#hopefully jason gets his memories back soon

[avelnfear]

Chapter Eleven

Masterlist

Jason didn’t know how to feel. He’d just learned so much about someone he thought he knew in such a short amount of time that processing it all felt impossible. He knew that the others were having just as hard of a time with it all as he was, but that didn’t help his own knot of complicated emotions. His neighbor knew him through the kind of magic that allowed for reincarnation to happen. His youngest brother, because he could finally admit that the Waynes were really his family, had remembered for longer than his neighbor to spare them all from the horror of their second life. The person who he thought was a manipulative douchebag was actually pretending so that the world didn’t follow apart.

He felt like his life had somehow shifted even though nothing had really changed. …That was the issue though, wasn’t it. Nothing had truly changed even though it felt, however irrationally, that it should have. Such a big secret kept for such good reasons were still massive secrets. He felt betrayed, of course he did when such important people in his life were keeping such big secrets, but he didn’t feel justified to feel hurt by that betrayal. That would be like being hurt because the Justice League had defeated a massive world-ending threat. He was suddenly privy to information that made it seem like the world should have changed somehow, but everything had the audacity to stay the same.

It reminded him of his death in a bad way. When he’d seen what was happening in Gotham from his outsider’s perspective while at the League, and to some extent even when he’d come back, it had seemed like nothing changed. Jason Todd was dead, and he hadn’t been enough to even change the person he interacted with the most. He might have been the root cause of his death, but the fact that it appeared like nothing had changed, even to the other causes of his death, was so incredibly hurtful. Now, a somewhat similar, if flipped, thing was happening and nothing had really changed. 

Jason wondered if these same thoughts, or even similar ones, were going through his family's minds. It had taken something like ten hours for the family to stop asking questions of Talia, although she didn’t answer all of them, sometimes giving vague answers as well. If they were thinking similarly, Dick would probably be beating something up or bothering everyone with cuddling requests, Bruce was probably brooding or talking it over with Clark and Diana, Tim was probably trying to do some research or solving puzzles, Duke was probably just going about his normal life until he figured out how he wants to feel about it, Cass is probably keeping obsessive tabs on the family to make sure they’re safe, Steph is probably tagging along while munching on waffles in mostly silence, and Alfred is probably focussing on keeping his usual exceptional level of service while he works through his thoughts. 

If this was before Jason had met his new neighbor, who it turns out he’s known for longer than he’s even been alive apparently, he would most likely be taking out these feelings and issues on the town, probably in one of his little fits to add to that awful image. Now though, he was laying on his couch, staring at the wall. He’d started by sitting and staring at the ceiling, but he must have fallen over at some point. It was fine though, he didn’t plan on moving unless he had to, mostly in fear of what he would previously do happening again.

Jason’s mind wandered to what they’d found out about Existences. There were many names and titles that could go into an Existence’s, well, existence. The High King that Taila had sworn by was the ruler of the entire Infinite Realms, which should have been at least a little frightening yet instead brought comfort as well as questions that didn’t get answered that day. 

How long had it been since he sat down at his couch? He didn’t know, but that wasn’t as important as going over all he’d learned to try to process it so his brain should really start focussing.

His family was mostly composed of liminals, with Damian being the outlier as a Realms Blessed Existence Bonded Liminal, which was his fancy and full title, although Talia had hinted that it wasn’t his only title. The area in a Mortal Realm that was claimed by an Existence was referred to as a Haunt, and that place was almost like their own kingdom. All Existences who were strong enough could form a Lair, which was a place for them in the Infinite Realms, and it could either stand by itself as a door hanging out in the Realms or as part of someone else’s City, Town, Village, or Kingdom. Those four are pretty self explanatory.

There are some holidays celebrated by the entirety of the Realms, but otherwise it is pretty situational and/or regional when it comes to holidays. Talia hadn’t really expanded on what holidays they did celebrate, saying that it would be explained to them later or it didn’t matter. Come to think of it, that had been her answer to a large amount of their questions. It was partly annoying and partly understandable.

The reason the Pit’s Influence had stayed around longer for Jason than most other people was because he’d formed an Existence before being chucked into the Pit for full revival. Apparently that let the corruption in the stupid green goo latch onto him in a far different way than normal. Talia had said that his fits were the corruption trying to take control while relying on his instincts after hyping some of them up and suppressing others. Danny had been filtering the corruption out at a rate that didn’t make the corruption freak out in order to avoid hurting either of them, which meant it was slow work. The several months that Danny had been here meant that a few more weeks of filtering would make some of his suppressed instincts supposedly flare up.

In terms of the Infinite Realms and death and all that jazz, they’d gotten some information from Talia. The Infinite Realms contained all afterlives, but there was also a thing called Limbo that existed for those who didn’t want to have even the slightest chance of interacting with the world or those who were too young to make the choice themselves. The souls who were too young could age safely in Limbo until they decided for themselves what they wanted to do. The souls who chose to go there after being deemed old enough would never be able to change their choice. There was also a place called the Beyond where souls who were waiting for reincarnation or fading into the Void. The Void was just ceasing to exist. 

All of this information was supposedly the barest of bare basics that Talia felt comfortable sharing without more permission from other sources. She did share with them that she was technically an outsider because she wasn’t even very liminal. In fact, most of the family would be considered outsiders and treated as such unless they were in the company of at least one Existence. It was odd to think that such world breaking knowledge would just barely cover the basics that they would need to know if they ventured into the Infinite Realms, which Talia seemed to think was heavily possible.

What most intrigued Jason was that Existences of a certain level could change to different forms. Apparently Danny and Nellie both had forms more capable of surviving in the Infinite Realms. Damian was also able to live in the Realms, according to Talia, and Jason was supposedly also capable of it as well. However, the rest of the family would need special charms to be able to even breathe and a special device to be able to properly navigate. 

Jason continued to float within his thoughts for an unknown amount of time, not even noticing when his body acted on autopilot to make food, eat the food, clean the dishes, or even to go out on patrol. When he finally came back to proper awareness, he had one burning question that felt like it would once again change everything, but he knew that he had to ask it. There was this fire in his chest that wouldn’t let him forget that one question. Now he just needed to find Danny to ask it.

~`~`~

Nellie was excited, Pops was finally in the right state of mind to remember! According to Grampa Clocky, she needed to make sure that Pops went to his Lair with Da in order to remember, but Grampa had also said she couldn’t rush it, nor could she tell Da. It wasn’t fun, but the outcome would more than make up for that. She’d missed when Pops would read to her until she fell asleep. She’d mi- 

“Nope! Don’ even dare silly thoughts!” She called out cheerfully as she slapped her cheeks a little. Soon she wouldn’t have to miss that, so there was no point stressing over it.

Making sure the blanket of shadows that kept her concealed was still wrapped around herself, she set off for Wayne Manor, where Da was still talking with Damian about animals or memories of the past. If her template was anything like herself, he would have been sorely missing the ability to talk to someone about those memories. It would have only hurt more to talk to someone who knew of the past yet didn’t really know because they didn’t experience it.

Once she reached the limit of how far her shadows could take her before she started getting noticed because of them, she slipped into invisibility and dropped the comforting blanket with a short thanks to Gotham. Now, she could truly move fast as she sped through the air with the sole intent of curling around her Pa and being close to her ghoul as she waited for that blessed day of memory remembrance.

~`~`~

Tim was honestly still kind of reeling from the heavy revelations of that day a couple weeks ago. He’d once gotten so obsessed with a case that it caused his death. He knew that he could get carried away when he really wanted to solve a case, but he never thought of it as something that could be detrimental to his health before. Normally, he would focus on research or things that he could solve as a way to process everything that he’d learned, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so with the knowledge that it’d lead to his death once.

He was even more thankful than ever that Danny had given him a safe place to tell the family about the case, Danny had probably saved his life with that, which, now that Tim thought about it, was probably the entire point. Danny had apparently been saving all of them from one thing or another the entire time they’d known the family, longer even. It was admirable and only made Tim more convinced that Danny was an amazing person.

Damian of all people was the person to help Tim the most with processing everything they’d been told. He’d sat by Tim and helped talk through all of the questions shooting through Tim’s head like bullets. That wasn’t something that Tim ever expected to happen, yet was apparently the way that he and Damian had bonded in that first life.

What a thing to have confirmed in the most confusing way possible, the idea of reincarnation. Which actually wasn’t even an idea at all. Tim wasn’t very religious, but he would have sworn by almost any god that reincarnation wasn’t something that could really be proven. Now, his thoughts on the matter had entirely shifted. There wasn’t any concrete proof behind the idea, not like he would have basically demanded before, but there was something inside of him that knew what had been said was the truth.

He’d worried about finding his twin before, but the intense feeling of hopelessness around not finding his twin was gone now. He trusted that the Existence Danny had asked for help would be able to help. There was just a sense of building dread that the answer to the question wouldn’t be something that he’d thought of before. He had the overwhelming feeling that discovering who his twin was wouldn’t be easy, in fact, it would most likely be about as earth shattering as the revelations that had happened recently. He could only hope to be ready for such an eventuality whenever it finally came.

~`~`~

Talia sighed and stretched as she finally arrived back to her rooms after one final check on everyone. Dick was talking about everything with Babs and Harley while Ivy was doing something out of town, which gave her some sense of peace knowing that he was conversing with a good therapist, however insane, and in the company of someone who knew him very well. Bruce was working through his thoughts by alternating brooding and training, which had brought a smile to her face with its normalcy. Jason wasn’t taking it well, but she hadn’t expected him to with all the corruption in his system. Duke had talked it out with his near comatose parents, which had apparently helped even for how morbid it appeared. Steph and Cass were assisting each other through it. Tim had worked through it with Damian and was now dealing with the emotional stuff by himself. Alfred was the only real shock, she wasn’t aware that he was an… old friend of Clockwork.

She figured getting some sleep wouldn’t be a bad thing as she’d pushed her body to the limits to make sure that her family and their town was safe these past two weeks. Now, finally, she could get some of the rest she so badly needed while waiting for the next part of the sly old clock’s plan to take place. Knowing him, however, the rest wouldn’t be nearly as long as she longed for right now. Oh well, a little rest was still some rest after all. She’d done her part, so she deserved at least that much.

~`~`~

Danny basked in the sunlight while Damian talked to him about whatever came to mind. It was nice to finally be able to relax as he’d been forced to take a break from work due to them being worried he’d overwork himself enough to become one of the inmates. It wasn’t possible, of course. His going insane would result in so many bad things that he made sure he was always aware of how close he was to the line, always stopping well before he crossed it.

Danny knew the level of calm could never and would never last, but he was happy to take advantage of it for as long as it could last. He was happy to finally have his family, all of his family, know about what had transpired before they’d even been born in this life. They didn’t know everything, but they would eventually. His Death Day was also coming up, but that thought wasn’t enough to dampen his mood. He just wished they could stay in this happy time for just a little bit longer, just a little longer…

~`~`~

Damian smiled down at Danny now that they’d finally fallen asleep. He knew that they didn’t need to sleep as much as they once did, but he wanted them to fully enjoy this relaxing atmosphere before it descended into the chaos that was inevitable in this family. Peace didn’t last for long, but Damian would make sure that his important people made it out alive this time. He didn’t know if he could take being one of the sole survivors again, it was too heartbreaking.

His ghoul landed beside him and rested her head on his shoulder, and, just like that, he knew that Jason had finally landed on the question that would assure his Pops regained the memories of their past. Damian sighed, knowing that the peace was going to fade especially fast this time. Still, having his ghoul next to him gave him enough peace that he felt himself start to fade into sleep. “Love you.” He murmured as he slipped into a restful sleep, only partially hearing her response as he faded from awareness into the gentle void of a dreamless sleep that reminded him so much of his ghoul’s shadows.

Yes, everything would work out this time. He’d make sure of it.

Taglist:  @blacksea21090 @chrysanthemum9484 @samgirl98 @may-rbi @justwannaseesomebrozawa @serasvictoria02 @treepainting @fluffykster @enderglace @sigdexae @persephoneblackrose @angelofsongsoteira @lazy-bouqet @littlefeather345 @icedbluesoul @autumnwulf @thefearfullone @alixanterm @skulld3mort-1fan @dulceringo @vidimirrayne @betinaplayingwriter @the-legal-shipper @currant-owo @crystalqueertea @fisticuffsatapplebees @bugaboo25 @dannyphantomphan @botwadtict @kyrianclawraith @mnemovoid @lyra689 @demiourgias @d4ydr34min9 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @emeraldcorpral @bobred18 @emergentpanda-blog @apointlessbox @pastalavistamf @v-inari @shadow-otaku20 @hellomygay @dracotheghostdragon @writemeawake @spookytragedyshark 

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Three

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I’m realizing I’m struggling to find a good breaking point for reader, cause I want reader to break. I’m terrible at coming up with conflict though. (I’m not much of a writer, but I’m trying.)

A/N: There will be Romantic Yanderes. But, we’ll get to that later when we talk about each yandere. (Most will be platonic or start platonically at least.)

A/N: Hopefully y’all are noticing that Reader is in this constant state of just trying to cope. (If I wrote it correctly, that is.)

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

So, Reader’s childhood crush shows up looking fine and kind

Alfred informs the others of the unexpected guest.

Bruce isn’t home, Damian is out with Jon. Stephanie and Cass are busy in Gotham, Duke’s out on Patrol, Dick’s in Bludhaven, Jason meeting this guy is a bad idea, and Barbara’s at work.

Tim, being the only one home on a rare break (in reality working cases in the Batcave) is practically ordered to scope this guy out.

Which annoys Tim, because Reader is just fawning over their old crush and the truck.

The truck is surprising, not something he expected Reader to want. But, reader is practically crying over it.

Tim would have just brushed it off, but he notices how this guy keeps touching reader.

Practically clings to Reader. Even sniffing unaware teary eyed reader. (Teary eyed reader is…. Cute.)

Tim makes eye contact with this guy, and he looks… smug. Like he won the grand prize.

And, it pisses Tim off. (Why is he so smug? What does he know that I don’t?)

Childhood crush isn’t staying long, he’s going to catch a flight back to the smalltown.

Reader happily offers to drive him to the airport and Tim just hops in the backseat of the truck. (Why? Oh, I just want to get out of the manor for a bit. Hope you don’t mind.)

Childhood crush is peeved, but hides it from Reader. (Tim can tell. He’s a detective, it’s his job.)

The entire ride is Reader and Childhood crush reminiscing and catching up on smalltown gossip.

Tim is listening in on everything with intrest, realizing he knows practically NOTHING about reader. (Didn’t bother researching cause he was pissed and didn’t consider reader worth the effort when he had more important things to do.)

Now, he’s getting to see a side of Reader that no one in Gotham has really seen yet.

Reader is funny, approachable, a hint of a flirt, apparently sings, loves to spend time with people they care about, and a slight geek.

Tim is a bit entranced/intrigued. But, his biggest concern is Childhood crush.

Why is this guy so possessive of reader? What does he know that Tim doesn’t? Something’s amiss, and he’s going to figure it out.

(And, maybe he should get to know Reader some more. They’re trying to make him feel comfortable in the truck, including him in conversation, sharing happy memories and information with him, willingly. It’s nice. It’s soothing.)

Eventually, Childhood crush is dropped off at the airport. But, not after he tells reader, there will always be a place back home for them and to come home soon. We miss you. I miss you. Come Home.

The ride back to the manor is done in comfortable silence. Or, at least, to Reader.

For Tim, he has a lot to think about.

What does he know about Reader? What more is there to Reader? He wants to know more. He wants to know everything.

He asks questions on the way back, occasionally breaking the silence.

Reader happily answers, expecting this will change things between them.

It does for Tim, but not as much for Reader.

Tim jumps into discovering everything he can as soon as he gets back to the BatComputer, but he’s not ignoring reader anymore. He’s almost friendly. (He’s still busy as mess. Not much time to hangout.)

Which makes reader feel better, because Duke and Cassandra disappear for about two weeks after that. (Mission.)

Reader worries and wonders where they are.

Bruce says the two are taking a ‘small vacation’.

(Reader knows he’s probably lying, but in the off chance he isn’t, Reader feels a bit put out.)

Reader is really leaning on those phone calls to their friends and family. They spend hours talking on the phone while pacing the halls, their room, and the garden.

Everyone back in the town wants them home. They miss Reader soooo much. They just understand reader more than these rich city people.

They can’t wait for reader to come home visit.

Damian and Reader eventually have a confrontation.

Damian finds Reader cooking in the kitchen.

(Alfred lets Reader cook, and Reader helps occasionally with dinner and meals.)

Reader offers food to Damian, a peace offering.

Damian, obviously, rejects it.

Doesn’t matter that he’s vegetarian or if he’s not hungry, he was going to reject it regardless.

And then he verbally tears into reader.

Insulting everything about them, the food, their actions, their attitude, their clothing.

Nothing is off limits. (Damian’s had a bad day and is pent up. He wants an outlet and Reader is right there and the object of most of his doubts.)

Reader shuts down. Going cold and looking startlingly blank. (Eerily reminding Damian of Batman Bruce.)

After this all attempts for Reader to bond with Damian stop.

(Sometimes you just gotta cut your losses.)

It doesn’t help that Damian one day hears Reader on the phone when they’re pacing the halls.

Talking sweetly and softly to someone in such a loving voice. Before hanging up with an ‘I love you.’

Damian initially begins to try to interrogate reader. (Who was that? Are you having relations with someone? Does Bruce know?)

Only for reader to bluntly state that they were talking to their younger brother and it’s none of Damian’s business before brushing past him.

Damian would grab at them, but he’s a bit stunned.

He knew Reader had another brother. Bruce was going to try to bring him to the manor. (Still is trying to bring him to the manor.)

But, now doubts start to creep in.

Because he wants that. That unconditional love Reader so willingly gives to their brother.

He wants that love. He wants someone to say ‘I love you’ to him like it’s as easy as breathing.

Damian brushes it off at the moment, but it sits with him. (He’ll fix things eventually. He’ll apologize. He’ll have that one day. He will.)

[aangelinakii]

Request - you’re surprised by how affectionate/clingy Bruce can be when he’s barely running on any sleep

HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

— hold you tight, squeeze you right.

summary : your husband isn't always the biggest fan of physical affection. however, you come to find that when his body is exhausted, the only thing it can think to do, is look for you.

note : thank you so much for requesting ! i also got a request very similar to this for jason, so if that was you or you're reading this, so sorry i haven't published it, i'm so blocked trying to write it 😭😭 hopefully i can publish it soon, but hopefully this is good in the meantime :)

note 2 : also the moodboard ??? the leopard print ???? making me feel expensive asf

although batman was known as the superhero to actually not be super, you felt your husband did have a superpower of his own; being able to run on fifteen minutes of sleep, if that.

so it was a surprise to you that, when bruce returned from work at the office, after a long night of patrolling the dingy streets of gotham, the toll of lack of sleep was taking over. neatly-gelled hair sticking out in places, thin skin beneath his eyes dark, his inability to smile at you as he pushed through the door to your shared bedroom.

you'd already gotten in bed, teeth brushed, face washed, tucked up in the sheets, when he finally came home. the pages of a book were open in your lap, room illuminated by the amber gleam of your bedside lamp.

"hey," you smiled up at him, tearing your eyes away from the print, only to find him walk straight through thr door into the adjacent en suite.

must've been a tough day; and you were back to your reading.

from the bathroom, you could hear the flush of the toilet, the rinse of the taps, the scrubbing of teeth, a few coughs here and there: the sounds of your husband washing away his day, preparing to settle in bed beside you.

when the door finally opened, and you glanced up, bruce's tie was undone and hanging beneath his upturned collar, the buttons down his shirt had been let loose and his toned torso was left on display, and his grey blazer was hanging from two fingers, the sleeves just barely dragging along the floor.

he seemed slightly worse for wear, but with the kids on patrol tonight, hopefully that would change by the morning.

obviously, it had not been easy convincing bruce to stay home tonight, but everyone agreed he should take it easy for one night, at the very least. his dedication to this city was admirable — one of the very reasons you had married him — but even the heroes need to save themselves sometimes.

"you okay, honey?" you piped up, slightly worried by his appearance now, and lack of communication since he'd returned home. eyes remaining on him as he pulled open the ornate wardrobe on his side of the bed, you folded a cat ear on your page and carefully closed it on the front cover.

only a couple beats passed before bruce blearily swirled around, the smile at the corner of his mouth not quite reaching his eyes as he tugged the snake of a necktie from his collar. "just exhausted like you wouldn't believe," he managed to chuckle, turning back around to the wardrobe to remove and hang his white shirt.

"i think i could believe." placing your closed book on your side table, you shifted under the sheets to face bruce as he swapped out his slacks for the pair of linen trousers he wore to sleep. "i didn't get to see you at all today. you weren't here when i went to sleep last night, and you were gone by the time i woke up."

it was difficult to not sound upset, which bruce noted as he peeled back the made covers on his side of the bed and slipped in beside you.

as soon as his aching body hit the memory foam mattress you shared, it was like the shadow of sleep took over, the way he sighed graciously and closed his eyes; but he was determined to stay awake, to talk with you, the one he had married.

marriages don't succeed if each night and morning is the same — a cold bed to fall asleep to, a cold bed to wake up to.

one of your husband's muscular arms pulled you in close, so his head was tucked below your chin. the musky scent of his hair wax filled your nostrils, an indication that, along with the stony form of it, he had failed to wash out his hair.

"how was your day?" the movement of his lips brushed against your chest, and the shiver that ran down your body only caused him to hold you closer, a second arm miraculously squirming beneath you. his voice was low, half-muffled by the fabric of your sleep top, half-muffled by the sleep threatening to take over.

the hum of a laugh brushed past your lips, and your fingertips came up to brush along the nape of bruce's neck, the spike of his coming-in hair after his most recent haircut prickling against your skin.

"probably not even half as bad as yours," you chuckled in response, fingers grazing higher, breaking through that cast of waxed-down hair. at your touch, your husband sighed against you once more, nuzzling in closer; as if close wasn't close enough.

you allowed a few beats to pass before continuing. "work went smoothly today, nothing too horrible. how about—"

the tickle of a stubble on its first legs brushed against the soft skin of your collarbone as bruce's lips, smooth after brushing his teeth, pressed a kiss against the base of your neck.

"how about yours?" you managed to ask after a beat, unconsciously tilting your neck. "and your night — i haven't seen you since you got home yesterday."

vibrating against your pulse, bruce's reply was gravelly, almost incoherent. "long, tired," you think he said. "want to sleep, but i missed you."

you're sure he fell into slumber after that, with the way his soft breaths against your neck fell into rhythm, and the way his lips fell slack, no longer concerned with kissing or speaking.

perhaps, although selfishly, you wished he would come back from work tired every day.

[anjuschiffer]

Of Forgotten Memories and A Beloved Mother

Welp here's another entry for @official-timari-server's Shutterbug Station 2024!

Enjoy!

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Tags: @toodaloo-kangaroo @vixen-uchiha

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Context:

Damian is recovering from memory loss after a mission having gone wrong. With his memories barely in tact and only remembering his family's names, Damian was placed into 24 hour surveillance and staying home until his memories returned…hopefully. While at home, Damian was encouraged to do whatever he felt comfortable in doing, drawing and painting being one of them. Out of nowhere, Damian started to remember something from a very long time ago.

Chapter 1: Momma's Lullaby | A03

“Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,

Swim so wild and you swim so free,

Heaven above and the sea below,

And a little white whale on the go.”

Jason stopped half stride as he heard someone sing, ensuing him to figure out who it was. 

“Baby Beluga, baby Beluga,” Jason turned a hall, muttering in disbelief when the voice came from Damian’s room

“Is the water warm, is your mama home,” He couldn’t believe it…

“With you so happy?” It really was Damian singing, the boy lost in his painting as he slowly swiped his brush across the incomplete canvas in front of him.

In the few weeks that Damian was brought to them, Jason has never heard the boy sing. Hell, he never sang to begin with. So hearing him sing, nonetheless a song that seemed so familiar to the boy, Jason knew he had to get Dick.

Damian watched as the blue paint he dabbed onto the canvas started to morph into a small rubber whale, watching as his hands morphed into small chubby ones, holding onto said whale. He watched as he threw the whale just a few inches away from himself, laughing up a storm when he watched the whale barely sink upon hitting the water

His own squeals were soon accompanied by some distant giggling, Damian feeling his entire body lighten up upon hearing the familiar laugh, feeling the need to smile as he turned to look at the person next to him, her face resting on the edge of the bathtub. Large bluebell eyes smiled at him.

“Was that fun, Dami? Was it fun?” She asked him, Damian finding himself just squealing as she pinched his cheek. “Oh you’re just so cute! Let’s get you washed up, okay?” She tucked a strand of midnight hair behind her ear before she went to scrub his hair. 

“Way down yonder where the dolphins play,

Where you dive and splash all day,” She slowly rinsed the soap off, Damian watching the suds surround him.

“The waves roll in and the waves roll out,

See the water squirting out of your spout.” She brought his bath toys closer to him when Damian started to cry as he watched his beluga toy float away.

“Baby Beluga, oh baby Beluga,

Sing your little song, sing for all your friends,

We like to hear you.” She sang as she took him out of the tub and wrapped a towel around him, kissing his nose as she took him to his room.

The room was dim, only a lamp lit the room, speckling the room with tiny stars of light. She laid him on the bed and quickly put him into a soft pair of pajamas so that he would remain warm.

“When its dark and your home and fed,

Curled up snug in your water bed,” She sang as she tucked him under some blankets and laid right beside him.

“Moon is shining and the stars are out,

Good night little whale good night.” She sang, Damian feeling his eyes turn heavy, his consciousness fighting the drowsiness that enveloped his body.

“Baby Beluga, oh baby Beluga,

With tomorrow's sun, another day's begun,

You'll soon be waking.” He found himself closing his eyes.

Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea,

Swim so wild and you swim so free,

Heaven above and the sea below,

And a little white whale on the go.

You're just a little white whale on the go.” Damian whispered as he opened his eyes, lifting his paintbrush away from the canvas, finally leaning back to look at the woman staring back at him. Or at least, he knew the face of a woman was looking at him, but try as he may, for the life of him, he just couldn’t-

“What do you have there, Dami?” Dick asked, Damian controlling his flinching from the sudden call. “Who’s that? Someone you know?”

Damian felt something stir in chest, because the longer he tried to stare at her face, he couldn’t see her face. He could only see, he could only recognize the bright shade of bluebell that he adored to see everyday. He loved her attention. Her hugs. He loved her voice and yet… “Damian. Is everything-”

“I don’t know.” Damian answered in the quietest voice Dick had ever heard him speak since he had known the kid. “I don’t know who she is.”

“Well for someone you don’t know…she’s very pretty.”

“She was.” Damian found himself saying, feeling his mind muddle. “She was very pretty…and her voice was pretty. She’d always sing me the same lullaby while tucking me in for bed.” Damian admitted.

“She tucked you into bed? When you were younger?” 

“I think…I’m not completely sure.” Damian looked at her face one last time, but like always, he could only see her eyes. 

Eyes that he wished he could see again.

What he would give to be able to see her again. “But I know one thing. 

I used to call her Momma.”

“Momma! Momma don’t go!” Damian yelled as Talia pulled him back, Damian watching as Momma was guided out the League’s compound, her luggage carried by two guards. “Momma!”

Damian watched as she stopped and said something to the guards. She turned around and simply smiled. “Momma?”

“Take care Dami. Grow up and find me, okay?” She smiled one last time before she turned around, Damian watched her disappear into the exit that led to the outside world he was forbidden to go into.

“MOMMA!”

NEXT

[greeniegreengreen]

No because this hit me randomly while trying to complete my assignments and I wanna get out as much as I can before it disappears into the "I really should've written that down void"

Jason Todd x Reader

Duke Thomas x Reader

TO THE PEOPLE WHO DID PUT IN ASKS, THEY'LL BE DONE AND POSTED AS SOON AS I SUBMIT(hopefully tomorrow, Sunday, midday latest) Y'all put in some good shit for me to write and I actually wanna get it out proper instead of just drabbling it out in a rush - unless that's what you want

ANYWAYS BACK TO MY THOTS - well more like the one’s reader gone be looking into >:]

SUGGESTIVE = +18, MDNI

Word Count: IDK,,,just words enough to try and clear this out my system

Didn't have a set gender in mind so it can be Female/Male/Gender Neutral,,however you choose to perceive it.

For as long as you can remember, you have always been able to read people’s thoughts and feelings. Heck if you focused with little effort on a person you’d be able to see into their minds and get an exact picture of what was in there.

That little what you called a cheat is what helped you become one of the best Interior Designers in Gotham. You were able to get exactly what a client wanted and they absolutely loved you for that, not knowing any better of course.

Of course with such rising popularity the Wayne Family had to have to redesign a few spaces for them, be it at the Manor, Tower or any holiday homes that they felt needed a change.

With your budding romance towards a specific family member comes very specific thoughts and crafted images every time you seem to be alone together.

JASON

Why would you be seeing the kitchen? As you kept focused on what seemed to be a memory from when Bruce had hired you to work on the kitchen with Alfred taking the lead on the project as it was his space more than anyone else's. It seemed he remembered the exact outfit you had on that day too. A simple beige tee tucked in baggy pale blue jeans and grey converses to finish the look. Put together but not too stuffy. You stood right by the island with a pencil between your teeth and a large sheet of paper laid out in front of you. You had been looing at the most recent layout of the kitchen to give you an idea of how to play around with how everything was set. Alfred from the looks of things wanted it to be more effective but gain a more polished look.

Jason's obsession with literature was no secret to anybody who lived in the Manor so it was no surprise when he had called you in to take a look at the ever aging library. After seeing how you had set the kitchen per Alfred's request he was eager to have you work on it.

You had come in on day one wearing your beige blouse jumpsuit to discuss and get a general idea of what he wanted to get done. The mention of trying to fit more books in didn't sound as impossible as he had hoped. It was just a matter of using the pre-exisiting infrastructure to your advantage while adding new bits and bobs to reach the idea he had in mind.

On day two you had brought in your iPad and pencil to scribble some potential sketches that you were sure Jason would love from what you looked into the day before. With him now browsing at the layout options, you were sat across from him on a what had to be a Baltimora Bespoke Rococo sofa in a pale yellow eyeing his every move. He was very good looking, the white streak in his black hair brought out the evergreen in his eyes that shone a dark blue when the light hit them right. Build quite big and towering compared to you, it was a little daunting yet alluring when he looked down on you with a slight tilt of his head however sitting down even though he did still surpass you in height you would be able to maintain eye contact without feeling a type of way. He seemed to be taking his time with his choice so a little peak into his mind wouldn't be a bother.

The kitchen?

With your mind somewhere else you had not noticed him coming into the kitchen until he had made his way behind you to get to the fridge, leaving out a barely audible excuse me.

His failed attempt at pardoning himself had caused you to turn right as he tried to get past you. A trip in your feet at both shock of someone else being in the kitchen and bumping into them almost caused you to fall.

Jason had caught you right by your waist, grip tight and pulling you close to try and keep you both steady. You hands crunching up into the front of his shirt as this was the first thing you had grabbed. He at that moment was trying to calm his breathe as he was sure with how close your hands were to his chest that you could feel his increasing heartbeat. He'd seen you before on magazines and interviews, a few times around the Manor too but this was the first time he was able to meet you in person. Much less this up close. You were quite attractive and that didn't make this situation any better. You had looked up in that moment and by the widening of your eyes it seemed as if you had just understood who exactly you bumped into.

What felt like minutes on the day, moved by within seconds of you two removing each other from the other from the looks of the memory. Your hands sliding down his chest swiftly while his had taken a rather unhurried path to your waist before letting go completely.

You remember that day very well. You were too flustered by everything that you never ever tried to look into what he thought of the entire thing before apologising and resuming what you were planning on doing.

As much as you remember the memory stopped there, but his didn't?

He put in something.

Instead of his hands fully leaving your hips he had used his grip to pull you closer to his heating body. A small gasp escaping your lips at the surprise of the action.

He walked you backwards towards the island making sure you didn't hit the edge harshly. Before bringing up his right hand to place right by your throat keeping his eyes on yours. The gap closing between the two of you before lips met right in the middle. A kiss one that was filled with curiosity and excitement dragged on in his mind.

His hands coming to lift you so that you were sat on the counter, the perfect height for him to lean his hips into your open legs properly.

He let out a small grunt of the word, "Fuck."

You let out a small whimper before pulling away from the memory completely. Wanting to focus on the current moment.

"Everything alright?" Jason asked in a worried tone at the sudden sound.

"Dandy." You gave a small smile trying to brush off what you just saw.

DUKE

You and Duke got along. A little too well one would say. After meeting at a gala Bruce had hired you to furnish which lead to an invitation to the event, you had gotten closer each day.

Duke enjoyed the conversations he had with you about anything and nothing whereas you enjoyed the change of pace of things. It all felt nice and mundane outside of being able to read people's minds and being a vigilante.

Your most favourite things to do was watch cringe level rom-coms. What was better than being able to sit in front of the in-house theater with all your favourite snacks and foods, a blanket and pillows that created a plush nest of sorts for you too. Every Tuesday night, as random as the day seemed it worked perfectly. Dick was on night shift, Tim barely left the office on weekends much less weekdays and nights, Damian was always quick to disappear to the Batcave (Duke would just say he was in "bed") Bruce would end up holed in his study with lord knows what, Jason hadn't been home in 4 months after deciding he needed his own space and going back to his apartment and Alfred always excused himself early on Tuesday as it was never really busy around then.

Tuesday nights were always just perfect for you two. A nice time to just feel second-hand embarrassment together from what the characters did on screen.

However today was not the same as any other day. A new movie was released on Netflix the Sunday before so naturally you and Duke had decided to set it to the following Tuesday's movie night. Neither of you had bothered to look at the trailer believing in the skimmed over reviews and it being labelled a rom-com. What more did you expect but something to crunch your face over.

You had come in with your summer pjs as the weather was warming up and made your way to the theater, ready to help Duke set things up. He had already laid out his half of things while you proceeded to give him a quick greeting and putting everything you brought with yourself down.

Once all was set and the lights were turned off, you began the movie.

Nothing seemed out of place, it followed a typical girl who needed to move back to her hometown for reasons that always had to do with a job. As she gets back she reconnects with old friends, crushes and flings.

You and Duke share laughs at the obvious plot and proceed to make bets on who the end-goal love interest would be in this one. Would it be the guy she had a crush on in first grade? Or her male best friend that had the biggest crush on her her entirety of high school but never confessed? Or would it be the bad boy she had lost her virginity to on Prom Night as an impromptu thing as she didn't want to leave high school a virgin.

As fun as placing the bets was with the promise of pizza as the prize, nothing could have prepared you two for what you were about to witness.

Right on screen as the female lead and one of the potential love interests shared a kiss, it seemed to get heated?

A lot more heated than a standard rom-com would allow actually. And were they taking off their clothes?

What was the rating on this again?

It had to be +18NL with how things were playing out. Quite explicit too.

Removing your eyes from the screen to glance at Duke, you notice how he doesn't seem to budge. Eyes glued and focused as he gulps down the saliva building up on his tongue.

Curious to what his thoughts were on the unexpected sex scene that they were experiencing for the first time together, you were taken aback.

From what you could make out you were right under Duke, both of you bare chested like the characters on the screen, both of you breathing out heavily like the characters on the screen, both of you closing the gap like the characters on the screen. It's when the point of view changes to Duke's perspective of things that you realise he's projecting you both on what you're both watching.

Duke inches down your body maintaining eye contact as he gets to your covered bottom. Eyes flicking down to the material before looking back up at you as if begging to remove them. You give him a nod and he eagerly give a quick kiss through them before yanking them off hurriedly so. Duke gulps again both on in his projection and in person before going all in tasting every inch of you.

Your eyes move to watch the screen and not him and as it was all playing out in his head there the two characters were getting it on exactly as he projected it.

Grabbing for the remote, you pause it.

"I think we need a break from that, no?" You suggest feeling flustered thanking every being out there that allowed you to be in such a dark room at this moment.

Duke was a very good looking guy, his personality made him a solid catch too. But it was another thing to tell the guy you've been chilling with casually as friends that you felt heated from his thoughts and would be more than willing to play it out right there in the theater.

Duke gulped for a third time before nodding and agreeing.

Maybe on another time would you initiate something, just in the privacy of your home lounge this time.

[poseidonsdaughterthesiren]

The Daughter of Poseidon: Chapter Five

Chiron dismisses everyone to their cabins for the night. Piper looks like a hostage as she follows the Aphrodite cabin. 

Soon it is just Della and Jason. Della glances up at Jason whose eyes are examining her. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks. “You were pretty out of it earlier.”

Della smiles at him. “Yeah, I’m alright. I see I wasn’t far off with the Hercules bit…”

Jason laughs and runs a hand through her hair. Gods his laugh was a rich melody similar to the sea on a summer’s day. “Yeah, I suppose so…I guess that's what makes you Ariel?” 

Della lets loose a cackle. “I’m surprised that made its way through the amnesia.”

Jason scratches the back of his head but his smile gets bigger. 

“But I’ll let that nickname slide,” she giggles. 

“And I’ll let Hercules slide,” Jason says. He holds a hand out to her. 

“Deal,” They say in unison. Holy sea cows his eyes are spectacular. 

Someone clears their throat in the distance. Annabeth stands with her arms across her chest and just a hint of a smirk across her features. 

“Coming Beth!” she calls. She glances at Jason one more time. “Sorry, girl's night especially now that I’m leaving.”

“I get it,” he says, “have a good night.” 

“You too Wonder Boy.” Della smiles and rushes off toward Annabeth.

Annabeth reaches a hand out to Della. The girls make their way towards the cabins. They reach Cabin Three and make their way inside. Della plops down on her bed and buries herself in her blankets. She lets out a content sigh. 

Annabeth settles herself in Percy’s bunk across from her.  She nestles in Percy’s blankets and takes a deep breath in. “So…how’re you feeling?” Annabeth asks. 

“I told you I’m fine.” Della sighs. “I’m more worried about you.” 

“I didn’t have a vision and almost die today.”

“Beth–”

“No, don’t even. Del, you slipped out of my grasp and smacked your head–and then Will said if he didn’t catch you, you might’ve actually drowned, you were so out of it.” 

“I know–”

“And then,” Annabeth sucks in a breath, “and then if that weren’t enough, you said you could see Percy…what’d you mean by that?” 

Della stills in her bed. What did she mean by that? “I don’t–I don’t really know. I don’t know if it was real or all in my head.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It felt so real Beth, I could see him Riptide in hand and he was running, running by what looked like a freeway. Then–then…”

Annabeth seems to ponder her words for a moment. “Then what?”

“I-I had a “dream” of sorts. It started as a memory. A memory of the summer before Percy and I came to camp. Then Hera showed up–”

“Hera?” 

“Yeah, she told me to “free her” again.” Della thinks about telling her that Hera revealed she took Percy. No, she won’t take that well. Besides she’s probably already put that together. 

“Hmmm…and you’re sure you saw Percy?” Annabeth looks over at her. Concern glimmers in her eyes. 

“I don’t know. I think so, but how is that possible?” Della feels tears prick her eyes. 

Annabeth slips out of Percy’s bed and dips into Della’s and wraps her arms around her. 

This is usually Percy’s job before they go on a quest. But Percy isn’t here to comfort her this time. 

And just like that, Della can’t hold it in anymore and just sobs into Annabeth. She sobs for her missing brother. Sobs that she has to do this damned quest. Her first quest without Percy anywhere near her. She sobs because she’s terrified to do it by herself. And to make matters worse these three demigods will depend on her knowledge to survive. 

“We’ll find him Del,” Annabeth whispers, “We have to.” 

Della sniffles and begins to drift off to a (hopefully) nightmare-free sleep. 

⬳

Voices and images swish around Della. 

“Now, now guys. That’s what we’re here for. Welcome Percy, Della. Percy, you can have that spot on the floor over here, and Della you can take that corner.”

Luke? Gods, Della nearly forgot what he sounded like back then. He was handsome back then in her twelve-year-old mind. She’s whisked away from Luke. 

“Not bad Heroes,” called Annabeth. She removed her Yankee’s cap and became visible again. 

“Were you here the whole time?” asked Percy. His voice was so squeaky back then. Still sassy but squeaky. 

“You were here the whole time and didn’t help us?” Past Della said. Disbelief is laced in her tone. 

“Yes,” Beth said like it should be obvious. 

Ah, yes the moments before Dad claimed them, moments before their lives changed forever. 

Annabeth shoved them both into the lake. Her and Percy’s shouts are inaudible, but the symbol of Poseidon was clear. 

Then Della is thrown forward once again. 

“Peter and Danny Johson are here!” Mr. D? 

Della warps once again. 

“You shall be betrayed by one that calls you call friend,” Percy said, “The reason Clarisse is still here is because you never said anything to Chiron about her, did you?” 

Della’s eyes widened in shock. It was Luke. Luke had stolen the masterbolt. “Luke….” 

A ringing overtakes her senses. It’s a dream, Della, wake up. Della–

“You shall serve as their guide Daughter of Poseidon. Beware Eros’s sting for it might just be your undoing.” Hera…

The ringing fades away and is replaced with squawks. Seagulls. Della moves a hand to feel damp sand. She’s drifting in the ocean. 

Where the hell is she? She sits up and glances around she’s–she’s at their cabin again. 

“Hey,” says an all too familiar voice, “Hey, are you alright?” A sandy-haired boy emerges from the cabin. He rushes toward her. 

“Percy?” she groans. 

“Do I–I know you?” He tries to hide his bewilderment. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m your–Della. My name is Della. We knew each other.” She tries to hold in the tears that he doesn’t recognize her. 

“Della?” He rubs his chin for a moment, “I feel like I should know that name…do you know an Annabeth?” 

He remembers–he remembers Annabeth? Now Della really tries not to cry. “Ummm…” 

“Never mind,” he says. He clicks his pen revealing Riptide. “We gotta move.” Percy holds a hand out to her she reaches for it but her hand doesn’t actually make contact. 

“Okay…that’s weird…are you like a ghost or something?” Percy says. 

“Last time I checked, no. If I’m dead that’s news to me,” she quips back. 

Della?!? Del, you need to wake up!

“Annabeth…” Della whispers. 

“Annabeth, you know–”

Della’s vision spins until darkness takes over, and just like that Percy and the beach house are gone. 

⬳

“Della! Wake up!” 

Della sits up her hands grip at the blankets around her. Someone is screaming. Who’s screaming? Oh…oh it’s her, she’s screaming. Della slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Silence spills in the cabin. 

Annabeth is right next to her. Her eyes were wide and her chest heaving. “Was it–”

“No, it wasn’t my usual nightmare. What happened?” Della croaks. Her eyes are super dry and gross. She’s been crying…weird.

“You were talking in your sleep,” Annabeth says. 

Okay, at least that’s normal. Percy drools in his sleep, and Della talks in hers. 

“I woke up and you were thrashing around. Then…” 

“Then?”

“You called out for Luke.” 

Luke? Oh right, she was being thrown around like a ragdoll in her dream. 

“It was a dream or a memory, I don’t know. It was when Percy and I realized that he stole the bolt.” 

Annabeth nods, “Then you started crying and called out for Percy.”

Della nods. Should she tell Annabeth that she saw Percy for real? Well, maybe real, like she was in his vicinity and talked to him. Was that real? Regardless, he doesn’t remember Della but he remembers Beth. No, she’ll wait to see if this is a recurring thing or not. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to go on this quest?” Annabeth asks. She places a hand on Della’s shoulder. 

“I don’t have a choice,” Della sighs. She rubs at her crusty eyes. “The prophecy called for me to be the guide.” 

Annabeth doesn’t say anything. She sighs. “You should get ready, it’s early, but you should pack and make sure you have everything.” Annabeth rises out of Della’s bunk. “Beth–”

“I also, need to get moving. Don’t worry I won’t leave until you do,” she calls. She’s at the door now. “See you in a bit.” With that, she exits and closes the door behind her. 

Della sighs and rubs a hand down her face. What did Hera mean by “Beware Eros sting, it may just be your undoing?” What does the assistant to Aphrodite have anything to do with this damn quest? 

 She slips out of her sweat-stained covers. The cold floors meet her bare feet. Luckily, her shark slippers are right by her bunk. She slips her feet into the plush shoes and walks to her little dresser. Her backpack leans against it. She packs three days' worth of clothes, some leftover ambrosia, and an extra pair of sneakers (after Santa Monica she can never be too careful). 

She pulls on a pair of light-washed Levi’s and a Little Mermaid crewneck. She swaps her slippers for her navy blue Converse and pulls on her tan Carhartt jacket. Della makes sure to pin her duck pin on her jacket. Backpack in hand she steps towards the door and pauses in the doorframe. She looks around the cabin, gods she hopes she survives this quest. She has to see her brother for real again. 

The cool morning air hits Della’s face. She takes a deep breath in. Annabeth makes her way to Cabin Six. Weird she’d left a while ago. 

Two Cabins down, a door opens. It’s Jason he looks over and sees her. He gives a little wave and walks towards her. 

Della meets him halfway. “Morning Wonder Boy.” She shoots him a half smile. 

“Morning Mermaid,” he says. He looks her up and down. “Even got the sweater and everything,” Jason laughs, “You ready?” 

“No but it could be worse,” she jokes. 

“How–” His words are cut off by a metallic screech. 

The mechanical dragon they’d been trying to capture the last few days. It hovers above the cabins. The most startling bit, Leo. Leo sits atop it with a maniac’s smile. 

“Leo?” calls Piper. She emerges with the rest of her cabin. 

Older campers rush out of their cabins. The Apollo cabin has their arrows nocked pointing straight at the dragon. Some of the Aries Cabin have their swords and spears out. 

Della unpins her duck brooch. She taps the beak and unleashes Leda, her double-ended sword, which like Jason’s weapon can be a sword or a spear. Though her weapon is not nearly as grand as Jason’s. It is an artifact of the hero Theseus. She calls it Leda because the duck head on the hilt reminds her of the legend of Leda and Swan. 

Surprise paints Jason’s features at how her brooch just turned into a sword. Interesting coming from the guy who flips a coin and it is either a sword or projectile weapon. 

“It’s cool don’t shoot,” Leo shouts. 

The warriors back away, keeping their swords or spears at the ready. Hesitantly, the Apollo Cabin lowers their bows. Half the camp runs out in a mixture of pajamas and armor. Others hide behind the doors and windows of their cabins. No one is too anxious to get too close. 

Della lowers her Water Bird just a tad. 

“It’s beautiful,” Piper mutters. Everyone stares at her like she’s nuts. Della does agree with Piper but she’s still weary of it. She’s seen some of the creature's damage around camp. 

The dragon rears its head and shoots a column of fire into the sky. Della jumps a bit and once again points Leda at it. She’s not alone. Other campers were on high alert again. 

Leo calmly slides off the dragon’s back. He holds his hands up like he was surrendering, except he still had that crazy grin on his face. 

“People of Earth, I come in peace!” he shouts. 

He looks like he spent the night rolling in the remains of the campfire. His army coat and face are smeared in soot. His hands were grease-stained, and he now wears a toolbelt around his waist. His eyes are bloodshot, his curly hair resembles porcupine quills. And–and he smells strongly of Tobasco sauce. 

But he looks absolutely delighted, “Festus is saying hello.”

“Stand down,” Jason says behind her. He shakes his head in amazement. “Leo, what have you done?” 

“Found a ride! You said I could come if I found a ride. Well, I found a class-A flying bad boy!” Leo grins even wider. 

Nyssa and Annabeth appear out of the crowd. Nyssa stares up at it in awe. 

“It–it has wings.” Her jaw looks like it might drop off her face. 

“Yeah! I found them and reattached them.” 

“But it never had wings. Where did you find them?” 

Leo hesitates, “In the woods.” 

Della taps Leda’s beak again. She pins him back in place. That was not the whole story. He continues talking before anyone can question it. 

“Repaired his circuits, too, mostly, so no more going haywire.”

“Mostly?” Nyssa asks. 

The dragon’s head twitches. It lurches to one side, and a stream of black liquid, maybe oil–pours out of his ear, all over Leo. 

“Just a few kinks to work out.” 

“How did you survive? I mean, the fire breath…”

“I’m quick and lucky. Now am I on this quest or not?” 

Jason still in shock, scratches the back of his head. “You named him Festus? You know in Latin that means ‘happy’?” 

“Mmm, kind of cute actually,” Della admits. 

“You want us to ride on the back of Happy the Dragon?” 

The dragon twitches and shudders and flaps its wings. 

“That’s a yes bro!” Leo exclaims. “Now I suggest we get going guys. I already picked up some supplies in the–um woods. And the welcoming committee is making Festus nervous.” 

Jason frowns. “But we haven’t planned anything yet. We can’t just–” 

“Go,” says Annabeth. She doesn’t look nervous. Not a bit. Her smile is sad, wistful. She, like Della, is thinking about old times. 

“Yeah,” Della says, “This is certainly a good omen. Besides we’ve only got three days until the solstice. Let’s go.” 

Jason smiles at her, Piper, and Leo. “You ready partners?” 

“Absolutely,” Della smiles, “We’re burning daylight Wonder Boy.” 

Piper’s smile falters at the nickname. 

“Della,” Annabeth calls. She wraps her arms around her and whispers, “Good luck, be safe.” 

“You too,” Della whispers back. She lets go and heads toward the others. 

Jason, Piper, and Leo were all abroad Festus. Jason extends a hand out to her,

“Time to trade those gills for wings Jackson.”

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Jackson!Reader) - Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Here's a really, really long chapter, about 12K words! It wasn't planned either lmao, but I hope yall enjoy!

Love ya!

Leo keeps looking back. He half expects to see those nasty sun dragons toting a flying chariot with a screaming, magical sales woman throwing potions but nothing follows them.

Leo steers the dragon towards the southwest. Eventually, the smoke from the burning department store fades into the distance, but Leo doesn't relax until the suburbs of Chicago give way to snowy fields, and the sun begins to set.

"Good job, Festus," he pats the dragon's metal hide. "You did awesome."

The dragon shutters; gears popping and clicking in his neck.

Leo frowns, not liking the noises coming from the dragon. If the control disk is fading again – No, hopefully it's something minor. Something I can fix.

"I'll give you a tune-up next time we land," Leo promises. "You've earned some motor oil and Tabasco sauce."

Festus whirls his teeth, but even that sounds weak. He flies at a steady pace, his great wings angling to catch the wind, but he is carrying a heavy load. Two cages in his claws plus four people on his back — the more Leo thinks about it, the more worried he gets. Even metal dragons have limits.

"Leo." Piper pats his shoulder. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah . . . not bad for a brainwashed zombie." He hopes he didn't look as embarrassed as he feels. "Thanks for saving us back there, beauty queen. If you hadn't talked me out of that spell —"

"Don't worry about it," Piper replies.

But Leo worries a lot. He feels terrible about how easily Medea had set him against his best friends.

What bothers him more is the news about his mom. Medea had seen the future down in the Underworld. That is how her patron, the woman in the black earthen robes, had come to the machine shop seven years ago to scare him, ruin his life. That's how his mother had died — because of something Leo might do someday. So in a weird way, even if his fire powers aren't to blame, Mom's death is still his fault.

When they'd left Medea in the exploding store, Leo had felt a little too good. He hopes she didn't make it out, and would go right back to the Fields of Punishment, where she belongs. Those feelings he isn't proud of either.

And if souls are coming back from the Underworld . . . is it possible Mom can be brought back?

He tries to put that aside. Medea may have been brought back to life, but she hadn't seemed quite human, with the hissing nails and the glowing head, and whatnot.

No, mom's passed on. Thinking like that is just gonna drive me nuts. Still, the thought keeps poking at Leo liken an echo of Medea's voice.

"We're going to have to put down soon," Leo warns his friends. "Couple more hours, maybe, to make sure Medea's not following us. I don't think Festus can fly much longer than that."

"Yeah," Piper agrees. "Coach Hedge probably wants to get out of his canary cage, too. Question is — where are we going?"

"The Bay Area," Leo guesses. His memories of the department store are fuzzy, but he seems to remember hearing that. "Didn't Medea say something about Oakland?"

Piper doesn't respond for so long, Leo wonders if he'd said something wrong.

"Piper's dad," Jason puts in. "Something's happened to your dad, right? He got lured into some kind of trap."

Piper lets out a shaky breath. "Look, Medea said you would both in the Bay Area. And besides . . . even if we went there, the Bay Area is huge! First we need to find Aeolus and drop off the storm spirits. Boreas said Aeolus was the only one who could tell us exactly where to go."

Leo grunts. "So how do we find Aeolus?"

Jason leans forward. "You mean you don't see it?" He points ahead of them, but Leo doesn't see anything except clouds and the lights of a few towns glowing in the dusk.

"What?" Leo asks.

"That . . . whatever it is," Jason said. "In the air."

Leo glances back. Piper looks just as confused as he is.

"Right," Leo says. "Could you be more specific on the 'whatever-it-is' part?"

"Like a vapor trail," Jason replies. "Except it's glowing. Really faint, but it's definitely there. We've been following it since Chicago, so I figured you saw it."

Leo shakes his head. "Maybe Festus can sense it. You think Aeolus made it?"

"Well, it's a magic trail in the wind," Jason says. "Aeolus is the wind god. I think he knows we've got prisoners for him. He's telling us where to fly."

"Or it's another trap," Piper replies.

Her tone worries (Y/n). She doesn't just sound nervous. She sounds broken with despair, like they'd already sealed their fate, and like it's her fault.

"Pipes, you all right?" he questions.

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, fine. You don't like any of the names I make up for you. But if your dad's in trouble and we can help —"

"You can't," she says, her voice getting shakier. "Look, I'm tired. If you don't mind . . ." She leans back against (Y/n) and closes her eyes.

All right, Leo thinks, pretty clear signal she didn't want to talk.

They fly in silence for a while. Festus seems to know where he is going. He keeps his course, gently curving toward the southwest and hopefully Aeolus's fortress. Another wind god to visit, a whole new flavor of crazy — Oh, boy, Leo can't wait.

He has way too much on his mind to sleep, but now that he is out of danger, his body has different ideas. His energy level is crashing. The monotonous beat of the dragon's wings make his eyes feel heavy. His head starts to nod.

"Catch a few Z's," Jason replies. "It's cool. Hand me the reins."

"Nah, I'm okay —"

"Leo," Jason replies, "you're not a machine. Besides, I'm the only one who can see the vapor trail. I'll make sure we stay on course."

Leo's eyes starts to close on their own. "All right. Maybe just . . ."

He doesn't finish the sentence before slumping forward against the dragon's warm neck.

. . .

Leo snaps awake to Jason, Piper, and (Y/n) screaming.

They spiral through the dark in a free fall, still on the dragon's back, but Festus's hide is cold. His ruby eyes are dim.

"Jason!" (Y/n) screams. "Take Piper and fly out of here!"

"What? What about you and Leo?"

"We need to lighten the load!" Leo yells. "I might be able to reboot Festus, but he's carrying too much weight!"

"What about you guys?" Piper cries. "If you can't reboot him —"

"We'll be fine," Leo replies. "Just follow me to the ground. Go!"

Jason grabs Piper around the waist. They both unbuckle their harnesses, and in a flash they are gone — shooting into the air.

"Now," Leo said. "Just you and me, Festus — and two heavy cages and (Y/n). You can do it, boy!"

Leo talks to the dragon while he works, falling at terminal velocity. He could see the city lights below him, getting closer and closer. He summons fire in his hand so he can see what he is doing, but the wind keeps extinguishing it. (Y/n) uncaps her pen, grabbing the blade with her hand, cutting into the flesh of her hand, but it keeps a steady light so Leo can see. He glances back, nodding gratefully at the light.

He pulls a wire that he thought connected the dragon's nerve center to its head, hoping for a little wake-up jolt.

Festus groans — metal creaking inside his neck. His eyes flicker weakly to life, and he spreads his wings. Their fall turns into a steep glide.

"Good!" Leo says. "Come on, big boy. Come on!"

They are still flying in way too hot, and the ground is too close. Leo needed a place to land — fast.

(Y/n) taps the tip of her pen, and the blade shrinks back down, and she grips the pen in her bleeding hand.

On the riverbanks, Leo spots a white mansion with a huge snowy lawn inside a tall brick perimeter fence – like some rich person's private compound, all of it blazing with light. A perfect landing field. He does his best to steer the dragon towards it and Festus seems to come back to life. We're gonna make this!

Then everything goes wrong. As they approach the lawn, spotlights along the fence fix on them, blinding Leo. He hears bursts like tracer fire, the sound of metal being cut to shreds – and BOOM!

. . .

When (Y/n) comes to her senses, Piper is leaning over her. (Y/n) is lying in snow, covered in mud, grease, and blood.

"Where –" (Y/n) rasps.

"Lie still," Piper's eyes flood with tears. "You guys rolled pretty hard when – when Festus –"

"Where is he?" Leo sits up, his head feeling like it is floating.

"Seriously, Leo," Jason says. "You could be hurt. You shouldn't –"

(Y/n) rolls onto her stomach, pushing herself up, and then her leg sags underneath her weight, and she collapses on her face in the mud.

"Hey, hey," Piper's tone is gentle. "I've got you. Jason, come help."

Two sets of hands pull (Y/n) to her feet, and her leg collapses under her, but Jason and Piper keep her supported.

"Go help Leo," (Y/n) glances at Jason. "Go."

Piper's arm wraps around (Y/n)'s waist, and then (Y/n) sees the wreckage.

Festus must have dropped the big canary cages, as he'd come over the fence, because they'd rolled in different directions and landed on their sides, perfectly undamaged.

The dragon had disintegrated. His limbs are scattered across the lawn. His tail hung on the fence. The main section of his body had plowed a trench twenty feet wide and fifty feet long across the mansion's yard before breaking apart. What remains of his hide is a charred, smoking pile of scraps. Only his neck and head are somewhat intact, resting across a row of frozen rosebushes like a pillow.

"No," Leo sobs. He runs to the dragon's head and stroked its snout. The dragon's eyes flicker weakly. Oil leaks out of his ear. "You can't go," Leo pleaded.

And (Y/n) gets sucked into a memory.

The Hephaestus cabin is out of Greek fire. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters are scrounging for arrows. Most of the demigods had already ingested so much ambrosia and nectar that they didn't dare take anymore.

Sixteen campers, fifteen Hunters, and half a dozen satyrs are left in fighting shape. The rest had taken refuge on Olympus. The Party Ponies try to form ranks, but they stagger and giggle and they all smell of root beer. The Texans are head-butting the Coloradoans; the Missouri branch is arguing with Illinois. The chances are pretty good the whole army would end up fighting each other, rather than the enemy.

Chiron trots up with Rachel on his back.

"Your girlfriend here has some useful insights, (Y/n)," he says.

Rachel blushes. "Just some things I saw in my head."

"A drakon," Chiron says. "A Lydian drakon, to be exact. The oldest and most dangerous kind."

(Y/n) stares at her. "How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel admits. "But this drakon has a particular fate. It will be killed by a child of Ares."

Annabeth crosses her arms. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I just saw it. I can't explain."

"Well, let's hope you're wrong," Percy replies. "Because we're a little short on children of Ares . . ." A horrible thought occurs to Percy, and he curses in Ancient Greek.

"What?" Annabeth asks.

"The spy," Percy tells her. "Kronos said, 'We know they cannot beat this drakon.' The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn't with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can't kill."

Thalia scowls. "If I ever catch your spy, he's going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp —"

"I've already done it," Chiron replies. "Blackjack is on his way. But if Silena wasn't able to convince Clarisse, I doubt Blackjack will be able —"

A roar shakes the ground. It sounds very close.

"Rachel," (Y/n) says, "get inside the building. Please."

"I want to stay."

A shadow blots out the sun. Across the street, the drakon slithers down the side of a skyscraper. It roars, and a thousand windows shattered.

"On second thought," Rachel says in a small voice, "I'll be inside." Then she meets (Y/n)'s gaze. "Please be careful."

. . .

Clarisse's chariots circle the drakon. Lances break against the monster's skin. Skeletal horses breathe fire and whine. Two more chariots overturn, but the warriors simply leap to their feet, draw their swords, and go to work. They hack at chinks in the creature's scales. They dodge poison spray like they'd been training for this all their lives, which of course they had.

No one can say that the Ares campers aren't brave – Clarisse is right up front, stabbing her spear at the drakon's face, trying to put out its other eyes. But as (Y/n) watches, things start to go wrong. The drakon snaps up an Ares camper in a gulp, knocks aside another, and sprays poison on a third, who retreats in a panic, his armor melting.

"We have to help," Annabeth says.

She is right. (Y/n) and Percy had just been standing there frozen in amazement. Mrs. O'Leary tries to get up but yelps again. One of her paws is bleeding.

"Stay back, girl," (Y/n) tells her. "You've done enough already."

Annabeth, (Y/n), and Percy jump onto the monster's back and run toward its head, trying to draw its attention away from Clarisse.

Her cabinmates throw javelins, most of which break, but some lodge in the monster's teeth. It snaps its jaws together until its mouth is a mess of green blood, yellow foamy poison, and splintered weapons.

"You can do it!" (Y/n) encourages Clarisse. "A child of Ares is destined to kill it!"

Through her war helmet, (Y/n) can only see her eyes — but she can tell something was wrong. Her blue eyes shine with fear. Clarisse never looked like that. And she didn't have blue eyes.

"ARES!" she shouts in that strangely shrill voice. She levels her spear and charges the drakon.

"No," (Y/n) mutters. "WAIT!"

But the monster looks down at her – almost in contempt – and spits poison directly in her face.

She screamed and fell.

"Clarisse!" Annabeth jumps off the monster's back and runs to help, while the other Ares campers try to defend their fallen counselor. (Y/n) drives Tsunami between two of the creature's scales and manages to turn its attention on her.

(Y/n) gets thrown but she lands on her feet. "C'MON, you stupid worm! Look at me!"

For the next several minutes, all she sees are teeth. (Y/n) retreats and dodges poison, but she can't hurt the thing.

At the edge of her vision, (Y/n) sees a flying chariot land on Fifth Avenue.

Then someone runs toward them. A girl's voice, shaken with grief, cries, "NO! Curse you, WHY?"

(Y/n) dares to glance over, but what she sees makes no sense. Clarisse is lying on the ground where she'd fallen, her armor smoking with poison. Annabeth and the Ares campers are trying to unfasten her helmet. And kneeling next to them, her face blotchy with tears, is a girl in camp clothes. It's . . . Clarisse.

(Y/n)'s head spins. Why hadn't I noticed before. The girl in Clarise's armor is much thinner, not as tall. But why would someone pretend to be Clarisse?

(Y/n) is so stunned, the drakon almost snaps her in half. She dodges and the beast buries its head in a brick wall.

"WHY?" the real Clarisse demands, holding the other girl in her arms while the campers struggle to remove teh poison-corroded helmet.

Chris Rodriguez runs over from the flying chariot. He and Clarisse must've ridden it from camp, chasing the Ares campers, who'd mistakenly been following the other girl, thinking she was Clarisse. But it still makes no sense.

The drakon tugs its head from the brick wall and screams in rage.

"Look out!" Chris warns.

Instead of turning towards her, the drakon whirls toward the sound of Chris's voice. It bares its fangs at the group of demigods.

The real Clarisse looks up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate.

Percy had seen a look that intense only once before. Her father, Ares, had worn the same expression when Percy'd fought him in single combat.

"YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screams at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!"

She grabs her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charges the drakon.

(Y/n) tries to close the distance to help, but Clarisse is faster. She leaps aside as the monster struck, pulverizing the ground in front of her. Then she jumps onto the creature's head. As it rears up, she drives her electric spear into its good eye with so much force it shatters the shaft, releasing all of the magic weapon's power.

Electricity arcs across the creature's head, causing its whole body to shudder. Clarisse jumps free, rolling safely to the sidewalk as smoke boils from the drakon's mouth. The drakon's flesh dissolves, and it collapses into a hollow, scaly, tunnel of armor.

The rest of the demigods stare at Clarisse in awe. (Y/n) had never seen anyone take down such a huge monster single-handedly. But Clarisse doesn't seem to care. She runs back to the wounded girl who'd stolen her armor.

Finally, Annabeth manages to remove the girl's helmet. They all gather around: the Ares campers, Chris, Clarisse, Annabeth, Percy, and (Y/n). The battle rages along Fifth Avenue, but for that moment nothing exists but the small circle around the wounded girl.

Her features, once beautiful, are badly burned from poison. (Y/n) can tell that no amount of nectar or ambrosia would save her.

Something is about to happen. Rachel's words ring in (Y/n)'s ears. A trick that ends in death. Now I knew what she meant, and I knew who had led the Ares cabin into battle.

(Y/n) looks down at the dying face of Silena Beauregard.

"You're the best thing I ever fixed." Leo wails.

The dragon's head whirs its gears, as if he's purring. Jason, Piper, and (Y/n) stand next to Leo, but Leo keeps his eyes fixed on his dragon.

He remembers what Hephaestus had said: That isn't your fault, Leo. Nothing lasts forever, not even the best machines. His dad had been trying to warn him.

"It's not fair," he says. His dad had been trying to warn him. "It's not fair," he repeats.

The dragon clicks. Long creak. Two short clicks. Creak. Creak. Almost like a pattern . . . triggering an old memory in Leo's mind. Leo realizes Festus is trying to say something. He's using Morse code — just like Leo's mom had taught him years ago. Leo listens more intently, translating the clicks into letters: a simple message repeating over and over.

"Yeah," Leo said. "I understand. I will. I promise."

The dragon's eyes go dark. Festus is gone.

Leo cries. He isn't even embarrassed. His friends stand on either side, patting his shoulders, saying comforting things; but the buzzing in Leo's ears drowns out their words.

Finally Jason says, "I'm so sorry, man. What did you promise Festus?"

Leo sniffs. He opens the dragon's head panel, just to be sure, but the control disk is cracked and burned beyond repair.

"Something my dad told me," Leo replies. "Everything can be reused."

"Your dad talked to you?" Jason asks. "When was this?"

Leo doesn't answer. He works at the dragon's neck hinges until the head is detached. It weighs about a hundred pounds, but Leo manages to hold it in his arms. He looks up at the starry sky and says, "Take him back to the bunker, Dad. Please, until I can reuse him. I've never asked you for anything." The wind picks up, and the dragon's head floats out of Leo's arms like it weighs nothing. It flies into the sky and disappears.

Piper looks at him in amazement. "He answered you?"

"I had a dream," Leo manages. "Tell you later." He knows he owes his friends a better explanation, but Leo can barely speak. He feels like a broken machine himself – like someone had removed one little part of him, and now he'd never be complete. He might move, he might talk, he might keep going and do his job, but he'd always be off balance, never calibrated exactly right.

Still, he can't afford to break down completely. Otherwise, Festus had died for nothing. He has to finish this quest – for his friends, for his mom, for his dragon.

He looks around. The large white mansion glows in the center of the grounds. Tall brick walls with lights and security cameras surround the perimeter, but now Leo can see — or rather sense — just how well those walls are defended.

"Where are we?" he asks. "I mean, what city?"

"Omaha, Nebraska," Piper replies. "I saw a billboard as we flew in. But I don't know what this mansion is. We came in right behind you, but as you guys were landing, Leo, I swear it looked like — I don't know —"

"Lasers," Leo replies. He picks up a piece of dragon wreckage and throws it toward the top of the fence. Immediately a turret pops up from the brick wall and a beam of pure heat incinerated the bronze plating to ashes.

Jason whistles. "Some defense system. How are we even alive?"

"Festus," Leo says miserably. "He took the fire. The lasers sliced him to bits as he came in so they didn't focus on you. I led him into a death trap."

"You couldn't have known," Piper says. "He saved our lives again."

"But what now?" Jason asks. "The main gates are locked, and I'm guessing I can't fly us out of here without getting shot down."

Leo looks up the walkway at the big white mansion. "Since we can't go out, we'll have to go in."

. . .

The other three demigods would've died five times on the way to the front door if not for Leo.

First it's the motion-activated trapdoor on the sidewalk, then the lasers on the steps, then the nerve gas dispenser on the porch railing, the pressure-sensitive poison spikes in the welcome mat, and of course the exploding doorbell.

Leo deactivates all of them – almost like he could smell the traps, and he picks just the right tool out of his belt to disable them.

"You're amazing, man," Jason says.

Leo scowls as he examines the front door lock. ''Yeah, amazing," he said. "Can't fix a dragon right, but I'm amazing."

"Hey, that wasn't your —"

"Front door's already unlocked," Leo interrupts.

Piper stares at the door in disbelief. "It is? All those traps, and the door's unlocked?"

Leo turns the knob. The door swings open easily. He steps inside without hesitation.

Before Jason can follow, Piper catches his arm with her free hand. "He's going to need some time to get over Festus. Don't take it personally."

"Yeah," Jason replies. "Yeah, okay."

But still he feels terrible.

"Piper," he begins, "I know I was in a daze back in Chicago, but that stuff about your dad — if he's in trouble, I want to help. I don't care if it's a trap or not."

Her eyes are always different colors, but now they look shattered, as if she'd seen something she just couldn't cope with. "Jason, you don't know what you're saying. Please — don't make me feel worse. Come on. We should stick together."

She helps (Y/n) inside.

"Together," Jason says to himself. "Yeah, we're doing great with that."

. . .

Jason's first impression of the house: Dark.

From the echo of his footsteps, he can tell the entry hall is enormous, even bigger than Boreas's penthouse; but the only illumination comes from the yard lights outside. A faint glow peaks through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. The windows rise about ten feet tall, spaced between the walls are life-size metal statues. As Jason's eyes adjust, he sees sofas arranged in a U in the middle of the room, with a central coffee table and one large chair at the far end. A massive chandelier glints overhead. Along the back wall stands a row of closed doors.

"Where's the light switch?" His voice echoes alarmingly through the room.

"Don't see one," Leo replies.

"Fire?" Piper suggests.

Leo holds out his hand, but nothing happens. "It's not working."

"Your fire is out? Why?" Piper asks.

"Well, if I knew that —"

"Okay, okay," she says. "What do we do — explore?"

Leo shakes his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."

Jason's skin tingles. He hates being a demigod. Looking around, he doesn't see a comfortable room to hang out in. He imagines vicious storm spirits lurking in the curtains, dragons under the carpet, a chandelier made of lethal ice shards, ready to impale them.

"Leo's right," Jason says. "We're not separating again — not like in Detroit."

"Oh, thank you for reminding me of the Cyclopes." Piper's voice quavers. "I needed that."

"It's a few hours until dawn," Jason guesses. "Too cold to wait outside. Let's bring the cages in and make camp in this room. Wait for daylight; then we can decide what to do."

Nobody offers a better idea, so Piper helps (Y/n) settle on the floor, and they roll the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits.

(Y/n) rummages through her backpack to find a baggie of pastries like lemon barns. She breaks one in half, and nibbles off the corner.

Piper settles down next to (Y/n) against the wall.

"What does it taste like for you?" Piper asks.

"My mom's homemade blue chocolate chip cookies," (Y/n) replies, taking another bite of the pastry square.

"Blue?" Piper asks, taking a bite of a peanut butter Ritz cracker.

(Y/n) smiles slightly. "I'm pretty sure it was some sort of dig at my ex-stepfather." Piper tilts her head in curiosity. "He, was not a very nice dude. He was –" she pauses.

"Abusive?" Piper asks gently.

(Y/n) glances back over at Piper. "How'd –"

"I was trying to break you from Medea's spell," Piper glances down into her lap, not wanting to meet (Y/n)'s gaze. "I raised my hand, and you flinched, like you'd been hit before."

(Y/n) sighs, taking another bite from the ambrosia, feeling the godly food starting to repair her leg. Then she nods. "My mom was only ever with him to protect me," she says.

"How?"

"I'm pretty sure it was the smell," (Y/n) fiddles with Tsunami, who'd appeared back in her pocket. "Perc and I didn't call him Smelly Gabe for nothing. Mom explained it was because he was incredibly mortal, that he could, like, mask our smell." Piper just sits and listens, and (Y/n) doesn't know if anyone had ever listened to her like Piper was listening to her now – just letting her talk without interrupting. "What're you doing?" she asks, bewildered.

"I'm listening," Piper replies. "Go on," she smiles slightly.

That's nice, (Y/n) thinks, grinning at Piper. "Apparently, we demigods smell. Like really bad." Piper laughs. "Especially us Big Three kids, it's worse. My friend Grover says we smell like –" she falters.

"The sea," Piper finishes, and (Y/n) nods. And then she yawns, leaning her head against the wall. "You must be tired," Piper says. "Did you even sleep in the sewer last night?" (Y/n) glances over at Piper, and smiles sheepishly. "Sleep, oh my gods," Piper says with exasperation, though she looks amused. "Come on, now," she pats her lap, and (Y/n) lies down, resting her head in Piper's lap.

The top boulder is twenty feet tall, and really hard to climb, so the flag is clearly visible, like the rules said it had to be, and it didn't matter that the guards weren't allowed to stand within ten yards of it.

Percy sets Nico on guard duty with Beckendorf and the Stoll brothers, figuring he'd be safely out of the way.

"We'll send out a decoy to the left," Thalia tells the team. "Selina, you lead that."

"Got it!"

"Take Laurel and Jason. They're good runners. Make a wide arc around the Hunters, attract as many as you can. I'll take the main raiding party around to the right and catch them by surprise." She glances at (Y/n), who had been leaning on her shield, looking bored. Catching Thalia's look however, she nods.

"I got you," (Y/n) nods.

Thalia looks at Percy. "Anything to add, Percy?"

"Urn, yeah. Keep sharp on defense. We've got four guards, two scouts. That's not much for a big forest. I'll be roving. Yell if you need help."

"And don't leave your post!" Thalia says.

"Unless you see a golden opportunity," Percy adds.

Thalia scowls. "Just don't leave your post."

"Right, unless —" Percy says, and (Y/n) laughs.

"Percy!" Thalia touches his arm and shocks Percy. "Sorry," Thalia says, though she doesn't sound particularly sorry. "Now, is everybody clear?"

Everybody nods. We break into our smaller groups. The horn sounds, and the game begins.

. . .

Percy is two feet from the water when Zoe bolts across to her own side, slamming into him for good measure. The Hunters cheer as both sides converge on the creek. Chiron appears out of the woods, looking grim. He has the Stoll brothers on his back, and it looks as if both of them had taken some nasty whacks to the head. Connor Stoll has two arrows sticking out of his helmet like antennae.

"The Hunters win!" Chiron announces without pleasure. Then he mutters, "For the fifty-sixth time in a row."

"Perseus Jackson!" Thalia yells, storming toward me. She smells like rotten eggs, and she is so mad that blue sparks flicker on her armor. Everybody cringes and backs up because of Aegis. It takes all his  willpower not to cower. "What in the name of the gods were you THINKING?" she bellows.

Percy balls his fists. "I got the flag, Thalia!" He shakes it in her face. "I saw a chance and I took it!"

"WE WERE AT THEIR BASE!" Thalia yells. "But the flag was gone. If you hadn't butted in, we would've won."

"You had too many on you!"

"So it's my fault we lost!"

"I didn't say that."

"Argh!" Thalia shoves Percy, and a shock goes through his body that blows him backward ten feet into the water. Some of the campers gasp. A couple of the Hunters stifle laughs.

"Sorry!" Thalia says, turning pale. "I didn't mean to—"

Anger roars in my ears. A wave erupts from the creek, blasting into Thalia's face and dousing her from head to toe.

Percy stands up. "Yeah. I didn't mean to, either."

Thalia is breathing heavily.

"Enough!" Chiron orders.

But Thalia holds out her spear. "You want some, Seaweed Brain?"

"Bring it on, Pinecone Face!"

Percy raises Riptide, but before he can even defend himself, Thalia yells, and a blast of lightning comes down from the sky, hits her spear like a lightning rod, and slams into his chest.

Percy suits down hard, and (Y/n) runs over to him, jumping over the rocks and into the riverbed. There is a burning smell; and (Y/n) has a feeling it's Percy's clothes.

"Thalia!" Chiron says. "That is enough!"

(Y/n) helps Percy to his feet and the Son of Poseidon wills the entire creek to rise. It swirls up, hundreds of gallons of water in a massive icy funnel cloud.

"Percy!" Chiron pleads.

. . .

"Ahhhggggggh!"

(Y/n) leaps to his feet, thankfully her leg had completely healed overnight. She isn't sure what is more jarring — the full sunlight that now bathes the room, or the screaming satyr.

"Coach is awake," Leo says, which was kind of unnecessary. Gleeson Hedge is capering around on his furry hindquarters, swinging his club and yelling, "Die!" as he smashes the tea set, whacks the sofas, and charges at the throne.

"Coach!" Jason yells.

Hedge turns, breathing hard. His eyes are so wild, Jason is afraid he might attack. The satyr is still wearing his orange polo shirt and his coach's whistle, but his horns are clearly visible above his curly hair, and his beefy hindquarters are definitely all goat. Could you call a goat beefy? Jason puts the thought aside.

"You're the new kid," Hedge says, lowering his club. "Jason." He looks at Leo, then Piper, who'd apparently also just woken up. Her hair looks like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster.

"Valdez, McLean, Jackson" the coach says. "What's going on? We were at the Grand Canyon. The anemoi thuellai were attacking and —" He zeroes in on the storm spirit cage, and his eyes go back to DEFCON 1. "Die!"

"Whoa, Coach!" Leo steps in his path, which (Y/n) thinks is pretty brave, even though Hedge was six inches shorter. "It's okay. They're locked up. We just sprang you from the other cage."

"Cage? Cage? What's going on? Just because I'm a satyr doesn't mean I can't have you doing plank push-ups, Valdez!"

Jason clears his throat. "Coach — Gleeson — urn, whatever you want us to call you. You saved us at the Grand Canyon. You were totally brave."

"Of course I was!"

"The extraction team came and took us to Camp Half-Blood. We thought we'd lost you. Then we got word the storm spirits had taken you back to their — um, operator, Medea."

"That witch! Wait — that's impossible. She's mortal. She's dead."

"Yeah, well," Leo says, "somehow she got not dead anymore."

Hedge nods, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"

"Urn." Piper gets to her feet, holding out her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Glee — can I still call you Coach Hedge? Gleeson seems wrong. We're on a quest for something else. We kind of found you by accident."

"Oh." The coach's spirits seem to deflate, but only for a second. Then his eyes light up again. "But there are no accidents! Not on quests. This was meant to happen! So, this is the witch's lair, eh? Why is everything gold?"

"Gold?" Jason looks around. From the way Leo, (Y/n), and Piper catch their breath, he guesses they hadn't noticed the throne either.

The room is full of gold — the statues, the tea set Hedge had smashed, the chair that is definitely a throne. Even the curtains — which seems to have opened by themselves at daybreak — appear to be woven of gold fiber.

"Nice," Leo says. "No wonder they got so much security."

"This isn't —" Piper stammers. "This isn't Medea's place, Coach. It's some rich person's mansion in Omaha. We got away from Medea and crash-landed here."

"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Hedge insists. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"

Before Jason can decide if he wants to explain or just shove Coach Hedge back into his cage, a door opens at the far end of the room.

A pudgy man in a white bathrobe steps out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He has a white beard and one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. He freezes when he sees them, and the toothbrush falls out of his mouth.

He glances into the room behind him and calls, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room."

Coach Hedge does the obvious thing. He raises his club and shouts, "Die!"

It takes all four of them to hold back the satyr. "Whoa, Coach!" Jason sats. "Bring it down a few notches." A younger man charges into the room. Jason guesses he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He is dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that says Cornhuskers, and he holds a sword that looks like it can husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms are covered in scars – not unlike (Y/n)'s – and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.

Lit immediately zeroes in on Jason like he is the biggest threat, and stalks toward him, swinging his sword overhead.

"Hold on!" Piper steps forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine." Lit stops in his tracks, but he still looks wary. It doesn't help that Hedge is screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"

"Coach," Jason pleads, "they may be friendly. Besides, we're trespassing in their house."

"Thank you!" says the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"

"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper says. "Coach, you first."

Hedge clenches his jaw. "Just one thwack?"

"No," Piper says.

"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."

"No!" Piper insists.

"Meh." Coach Hedge lowers his club.

Piper gives Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile. Even with her hair messed up and wearing two-day-old clothes, she looks extremely cute, and (Y/n) feels a little jealous she is giving Lit that smile.

Lit huffs and sheaths his sword. "You speak well, girl — fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."

"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."

The old man in the bathrobe sighs, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."

Lit frowns. "Your Majesty—"

"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man says. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He does his best to smile, though it looks a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."

"Midas? Impossible," says Coach Hedge. "He died."

They are sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclines on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Jason keeps worrying the old guy would forget and uncross his legs. Hopefully he's wearing golden boxers under there.

Lit stands behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and flexing his muscular arms just to be annoying. (Y/n) wonders if she looked that ripped holding a sword. Sadly, she doubts it.

Piper sits forward. "What our satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be — sorry — dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."

"Interesting." The king gazes out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looks like a cluster of children's blocks — way too clean and small for a regular city.

"You know," the king says, "I think I was a bit dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"

"A very long dream, Your Majesty."

"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."

"But how?" Piper asks. "You didn't happen to have a . . . patron?"

Midas hesitates, but there is a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"

"We could kill them again," Hedge suggests.

"Coach, not helping," Jason says. "Why don't you go outside and stand guard?"

Leo coughs. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."

"Oh, yes," the king replies. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!" He fishes a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and presses a few buttons — a pass code, Jason guesses.

"There," Midas says. "Safe to go out now."

Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me . . ." He winks at Jason meaningfully. Then he points at himself, points two fingers at their hosts, and slices a finger across his throat. Very subtle sign language. "Yeah, thanks," Jason says.

After the satyr leaves, Piper tries another diplomatic smile. "So . . . you don't know how you got here?"

"Oh, well, yes. Sort of," the king replies. He frowns at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."

"The oracle," Lit said.

"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugs. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit — it's short for Lityerses, by the way — horrible name, but his mother insisted — Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."

"Oh." Piper tries to sound enthusiastic. "How nice."

Lit's smile is more of a cruel sneer. (Y/n) is now one hundred percent sure he didn't like this guy, and Jason is starting to regret sending Hedge outside.

"So," Jason says. "All this gold —"

The king's eyes light up. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!"

Jason looks at the brochures on the coffee table. The title says GOLD: Invest for Eternity. "Urn, you sell gold?"

"No, no," the king says. "I make it. In uncertain times like these, gold is the wisest investment, don't you think? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value!"

Leo frowns. "I've seen that commercial."

"Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators!" the king says. "I assure you, I can beat any price fora serious investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."

"But..." Piper shakes her head in confusion. "Your Majesty, you gave up the golden touch, didn't you?"

The king looks astonished. "Gave it up?"

"Yeah," Piper says. "You got it from some god —''

"Dionysus," the king agrees. "I'd rescued one of his satyrs, and in return, the god granted me one wish. I chose the golden touch."

"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper remembers. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."

"Repented!" King Midas looks at Lit incredulously. "You see, son? You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl, did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"

"Well, I guess not. They just said you learned how to reverse it with running water, and you brought your daughter back to life."

"That's all true. Sometimes I still have to reverse my touch. There's no running water in the house because I don't want accidents" — he gestures to his statues — "but we chose to live next to a river just in case. Occasionally, I'll forget and pat Lit on the back —"

Lit retreats a few steps. "I hate that."

"I told you I was sorry, son. At any rate, gold is wonderful. Why would I give it up?"

"Well..." Piper looks truly lost now. "Isn't that the point of the story? That you learned your lesson?"

Midas laughs. "My dear, may I see your backpack for a moment? Toss it here."

Piper hesitates, but she isn't eager to offend the king. She dumps everything out of the pack and tosses it to Midas. As soon as he caught it, the pack turns to gold, like frost spreading across the fabric. It still looks flexible and soft, but definitely gold. The king tosses it back.

"As you see, I can still turn anything to gold," Midas says. "That pack is magic now, as well. Go ahead — put your little storm spirit enemies in there."

"Seriously?" Leo is suddenly interested. He takes the bag from Piper and holds it up to the cage. As soon as he unzips the backpack, the winds stir and howl in protest. The cage bars shudder . The door of the prison flies open and the winds get vacuumed straight into the pack. Leo zips it shut and grins. "Gotta admit. That's cool."

"You see?" Midas says. "My golden touch a curse ? Please. I didn't learn any lesson, and life isn't a story, girl. Honestly, my daughter Zoe was much more pleasant as a gold statue."

"She talked a lot," Lit offers.

"Exactly! And so I turned her back to gold." Midas points. There in the corner is a golden statue of a girl with a shocked expression, as if she were thinking, Dad!

"That's horrible!" Piper says.

"Nonsense. She doesn't mind. Besides, if I'd learned my lesson, would I have gotten these?"

Midas pulls off his oversize sleeping cap, and Jason doesn't know whether to laugh or get sick. Midas has long fuzzy gray ears sticking up from his white hair — like Bugs Bunny's, but they aren't rabbit ears. They are donkey ears.

"Oh, wow," Leo says. "I didn't need to see that."

"Terrible, isn't it?" Midas sighs. "A few years after the golden touch incident, I judged a music contest between Apollo and Pan, and I declared Pan the winner. Apollo, sore loser, said I must have the ears of an ass, and voila. This was my reward for being truthful. I tried to keep them a secret. Only my barber knew, but he couldn't help blabbing." Midas pointed out another golden statue — a bald man in a toga, holding a pair of shears. "That's him. He won't be telling anyone's secrets again." The king smiles, and suddenly, he doesn't strike Jason as a harmless old man in a bathrobe. His eyes have a merry glow to the – the look of a madman who knows he's mad, accepted his madness, and enjoyed it. "Yes, gold has many uses. I think that must be why I was brought back, eh Lit? To bankroll our patron."

Lit nods. "That and my good sword arm."

Jason glances at his friends. Suddenly the air in the room seems much colder.

"So you do have a patron," Jason says. "You work for the giants."

King Midas waves his hand dismissively. "Well, I don't care for giants myself, of course. But even supernatural armies need to get paid. I do owe my patron a great debt. I tried to explain that to the last group that came through, but they were very unfriendly. Wouldn't cooperate at all."

Jason slips his hand into his pocket and grabs his gold coin. "The last group?"

"Hunters," Lit snarls. "Blasted girls from Artemis."

Jason feels a spark of electricity — a literal spark — travel down his spine. He catches a whiff of electrical fire like he'd just melted some of the springs in the sofa.

His sister had been here.

"When?" he demands. "What happened?"

Lit shrugs. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail, heading west. Missing demigod — I don't recall."

Percy Jackson – (Y/n)'s missing brother, Jason thinks. Annabeth had mentioned the Hunters were looking for him. And in Jason's dream of the burned-out house in the redwoods, he'd heard enemy wolves baying. Hera had called them her keepers. It has to be connected somehow.

Midas scratches his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalls. "They absolutely refused to be turned into gold. Much of the security system outside I installed to keep that sort of thing from happening again, you know. I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."

Jason stands warily and glances at his friends. They got the message.

"Well," Piper says, managing a smile. "It's been a great visit. Welcome back to life. Thanks for the gold bag."

"Oh, but you can't leave!" Midas replies. "I know you're not serious investors, but that's all right! I have to rebuild my collection."

Lit is smiling cruelly. The king rises, and Leo, (Y/n), and Piper move away from him.

"Don't worry," the king assures them. "You don't have to be turned to gold. I give all my guests a choice — join my collection, or die at the hands of Lityerses. Really, it's good either way."

Piper tries to use her charmspeak. "Your Majesty, you can't —"

Quicker than any old man should've been able to move, Midas lashes out and grabs her wrist.

"No!" Jason yells.

Gold frost spreads over Piper, and, in a heartbeat, she is a glittering statue. Leo tries to summon fire, but he'd forgotten his power wasn't working. Midas touches his hand, and Leo transforms into solid metal. (Y/n) stands, stunned, and can't move, and Midas touches her shoulder, and gold spreads across her body.

Jason is so horrified he can't move. His friends – just gone. And he'd been unable to stop it.

Midas smiles apologetically. "Gold trumps fire, I'm afraid." He waves around him at all the gold curtains and furniture. "In this room, my power dampens all others: fire . . . even charmspeak. Which leaves me only one more trophy to collect."

"Hedge!" Jason yells. "Need help in here!"

For once, the satyr doesn't charge in. Jason wonders if the lasers had gotten him, or if he is sitting at the bottom of a trap pit.

Midas chuckles. "No goat to the rescue? Sad. But don't worry, my boy. It's really not painful. Lit can tell you."

Jason fixes on an idea. "I choose combat. You said I could choose to fight Lit instead."

Midas looks mildly disappointed, but he shrugs. "I said you could die fighting Lit. But of course, if you wish."

The king backs away, and Lit raises his sword.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Lit grins. "I am the Reaper of Men!"

"Come on, Cornhusker." Jason summons his own weapon. This time it comes up as a javelin, and Jason is glad for the extra length.

"Oh, gold weapon!" Midas says. "Very nice."

Lit charges.

. . .

Piper wakes up cold and shivering.

She has the worst dream about an old guy with donkey ears chasing her around and shouting, You're it!

"Oh, god." Her teeth chatter. "He turned me to gold!"

"You're okay now." (Y/n) leans over and tucks a warm blanket around her, but she still feels as cold as a Boread.

She blinks, trying to figure out where they are. Next to her, a campfire blazed, turning the air sharp with smoke.

Firelight flickers against rock walls. They are in a shallow cave, but it doesn't offer much protection. Outside, the wind howls. Snow blows sideways. It could've been day or night. The storm makes it too dark to tell.

"L-L-Leo?" Piper manages, her teeth chattering.

"Present and un-gold-ified." Leo is also wrapped in blankets. He doesn't look great, but better than Piper feels. "I got the precious metal treatment too," he says. "But I came out of it faster. Dunno why. We had to dunk you in the river to get you back completely. Tried to dry you off, but . . . it's really, really cold."

"You've got hypothermia," (Y/n) tells Piper. "We risked as much nectar as we could. Coach Hedge did a little nature magic —"

"Sports medicine." The coach's ugly face looms over her. "Kind of a hobby of mine. Your breath might smell like wild mushrooms and Gatorade for a few days, but it'll pass. You probably won't die. Probably."

"Thanks," Piper says weakly. "How did you beat Midas?"

Jason tells her the story, putting most of it down to luck.

The coach snorts. "Kid's being modest. You should've seen him. Hi-yah! Slice! Boom with the lightning!"

"Coach, you didn't even see it," Jason replies, rolling his eyes. "You were outside eating the lawn."

But the satyr is just warming up. "Then I came in with my club, and we dominated that room. Afterward, I told him, 'Kid, I'm proud of you! If you could just work on your upper body strength —'"

"Coach," said Jason.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, please."

"Sure." The coach sits down at the fire and starts chewing his cudgel.

(Y/n) put her hand on Piper's forehead and checks her temperature. "Leo, can you stoke the fire?"

"On it." Leo summons a baseball-sized clump of flames and lobs it into the campfire.

"Do I look that bad?" Piper shivers.

"Nah," (Y/n) replies.

"You're a terrible liar," Piper says. "Where are we?"

"Pikes Peak," Jason replies. "Colorado."

"But that's, what – five hundred miles from Omaha?" Piper's eyes widen slightly.

"Something like that," Jason agrees. "I harnessed the storm spirits to bring us this far. They didn't like that – went a little faster than I wanted, almost crashed us into the mountainside before I could get them back in the bag. I'm not going to be trying that again."

"Why are we here though?" Piper asks.

Leo sniffs. "That's what I asked him."

Jason glances into the storm as if watching for something. "That glittery wind trail we saw yesterday? It was still in the sky, though it had faded a lot. I followed it until I couldn't see it anymore. Then — honestly I'm not sure. I just felt like this was the right place to stop."

"'Course it is." Coach Hedge spits out some cudgel splinters. "Aeolus's floating palace should be anchored above us, right at the peak. This is one of his favorite spots to dock."

"Maybe that was it." Jason knits his eyebrows. "I don't know. Something else, too . . ."

"The Hunters were heading west," Piper remembers. "Do you think they're around here?"

Jason rubs his forearm as if the tattoos are bothering him. "I don't see how anyone could survive on the mountain right now. The storm's pretty bad. It's already the evening before the solstice, but we didn't have much choice except to wait out the storm here. We had to give you some time to rest before we tried moving." He doesn't need to convince her. The wind howling outside the cave scares her, and she can't stop shivering.

"Jace," (Y/n) says, and Jason looks up to meet her sea-green gaze. "I've known Thalia and the Hunters for years. I promise you, that they'll be fine." Then she sees Piper shivering beside her. "We have to get you warm." She holds out her arms a little awkwardly. "Uh, you mind if I . . ."

"I suppose." Piper tries to sound nonchalant, though her stomach erupts with butterflies. She puts her arms around her and holds her. They scoot closer to the fire; Coach Hedge chews on his club and spits splinters into the fire.

Leo breaks out some cooking supplies and starts frying burger patties on an iron skillet. "So, guys, long as you're cuddled up for story time . . . something I've been meaning to tell you. On the way to Omaha, I had this dream. Kinda hard to understand with the static and the Wheel of Fortune breaking in —"

"Wheel of Fortune?" Piper assumes Leo is kidding, but when he looks up from his burgers, his expression was deadly serious.

"The thing is," Leo says, "my dad Hephaestus talked to me."

Leo tells them about his dream. In the firelight, with the wind howling, the story is even creepier. Piper can imagine the static-filled voice of the god warning about giants who were the sons of Tartarus, and about Leo losing some friends along the way. And she had noticed the quick looks exchanged between Leo, Jason, and (Y/n). Wonder what that's about.

Piper tries to concentrate on something good: (Y/n)'s arms around her, the warmth slowly spreading into her body, but she is terrified. "I don't understand. If demigods and gods have to work together to kill the giants, why would the gods stay silent? If they need us —"

"Ha," says Coach Hedge. "The gods hate needing humans. They like to be needed by humans, but not the other way around. Things will have to get a whole lot worse before Zeus admits he made a mistake closing Olympus."

"Coach," Piper says, "that was almost an intelligent comment." (Y/n) laughs.

Hedge huffs. "What? I'm intelligent! I'm not surprised you cupcakes haven't heard about the Giant War. The gods don't like to talk about it. Bad PR to admit you needed mortals to help beat an enemy. That's just embarrassing."

"There's more, though," Jason adds. "When I dreamed about Hera in her cage, she said Zeus was acting unusually paranoid. And Hera — she said she went to those ruins because a voice had been speaking in her head. What if someone's influencing the gods, like Medea influenced us?"

Piper shudders. She'd had a similar thought — that some force they couldn't see was manipulating things behind the scenes, helping the giants. Maybe the same force is keeping Enceladus informed about our movements, and had even knocked their dragon out of the sky over Detroit. Perhaps Leo's sleeping Dirt Woman, or another servant of hers . . .

Leo sets hamburger buns on the skillet to toast. "Yeah, Hephaestus said something similar, like Zeus was acting weirder than usual. But what bothered me was the stuff my dad didn't say. Like a couple of times he was talking about the demigods, and how he had so many kids and all. I don't know. He acted like getting the greatest demigods together was going to be almost impossible — like Hera was trying, but it was a really stupid thing to do, and there was some secret Hephaestus wasn't supposed to tell me."

(Y/n) shifts. Piper can feel the tension in her arms. "Didn't you mention something about Chiron acting the same way when you were meeting him in the Big House?" (Y/n) asks. "

Jason nods "He mentioned a sacred oath not to discuss — something. Coach, you know anything about that?"

"Nah. I'm just a satyr. They don't tell us the juicy stuff. Especially an old —" He stops himself.

"An old guy like you?" Piper asks. "But you're not that old, are you?"

"Hundred and six," the coach mutters.

Leo coughs. "Say what?"

"Don't catch your panties on fire, Valdez. That's just fifty-three in human years. Still, yeah, I made some enemies on the Council of Cloven Elders. I've been a protector a longtime. But they started saying I was getting unpredictable. Too violent. Can you imagine?"

"Why don't you talk to Grover?" (Y/n) asks the satyr.

The Coach lets out a grunt, and then mutters something along the lines of "– don't like askin' for help." Then the Coach scowls. "Yeah, then finally we get a good war going with the Titans, and do they put me on the front lines? No! They send me as far away as possible — the Canadian frontier, can you believe it? Then after the war, they put me out to pasture. The Wilderness School. Bah! Like I'm too old to be helpful just because I like playing offense. All those flower-pickers on the Council — talking about nature."

"I thought satyrs liked nature," Piper ventures.

"Shoot, I love nature," Hedge replies. "Nature means big things killing and eating little things! And when you're a — you know — vertically challenged satyr like me, you get in good shape, you carry a big stick, and you don't take nothing from no one! That's nature." Hedge snorts indignantly. "Flower-pickers. Anyway, I hope you got something vegetarian cooking, Valdez. I don't do flesh."

"Yeah, Coach. Don't eat your cudgel. I got some tofu patties here. Piper's a vegetarian too. I'll throw them on in a second."

The smell of frying burgers filled the air. Piper usually hates the smell of cooking meat, but her stomach rumbles like it wanted to mutiny.

I'm losing it, she thinks. Think broccoli. Carrots. Lentils.

Her stomach isn't the only thing rebelling. Lying by the fire, with (Y/n) holding her, Piper's conscience feels like a hot bullet slowly working its way toward her heart. All the guilt she'd been holding in for the last week, since the giant Enceladus had first sent her a dream, is about to kill her.

Her friends wanted to help her. Jason even said he'd walk into a trap to save her dad. And Piper had shut them out.

For all she knows, she'd already doomed her father when she attacked Medea.

She chokes back a sob. Maybe she'd done the right thing in Chicago by saving her friends, but she'd only delayed her problem. She can never betray her friends, but the tiniest part of her is desperate enough to think, What if I did?

She tries to imagine what her dad would say. Hey, Dad, if you were ever chained up by a cannibal giant and I had to betray a couple of friends to save you, what should I do?

Funny, that had never come up when they did Any Three Questions. Her dad would never take the question seriously, of course. He'd probably tell her one of Grandpa Tom's old stories — something with glowing hedgehogs and talking birds—and then laugh about it as if the advice was silly.

Piper wishes she remembers her grandpa better. Sometimes she dreams about that little two-room house in Oklahoma. She wonders what it would've been like to grow up there.

Her dad would think that was nuts. He'd had spent his whole life running away from that place, distancing himself from the rez, playing any role except Native American. He'd always told Piper how lucky she was to grow up rich and well cared-for, in a nice house in California.

She'd learned to be vaguely uncomfortable about her ancestry — like Dad's old pictures from the eighties, when he had feathered hair and crazy clothes. Can you believe I ever looked like that? he'd say. Being Cherokee was the same way for him — something funny and mildly embarrassing.

But what else were they? Dad didn't seem to know. Maybe that's why he was always so unhappy, changing roles.

Maybe that's why Piper started stealing things, looking for something her dad couldn't give her.

Leo puts the tofu patties on the skillet. The wind keeps raging.

Gradually, Piper starts to feel warmer. She stops shivering and settles against (Y/n)'s chest. Leo hands out the food, and (Y/n) takes a tofu patty, more to make Piper more comfortable; Piper doesn't want to move, talk, or do anything to disrupt the moment. But she has to.

We need to talk." She sits up so she can face (Y/n). "I don't want to hide anything from you guys anymore."

They look at her with their mouths full of burger. Too late to change my mind now.

"Three nights before the Grand Canyon trip," she begins, "I had a dream vision — a giant, telling me my father had been taken hostage. He told me I had to cooperate, or my dad would be killed."

The flames crackles.

Finally Jason says, "Enceladus? You mentioned that name before."

Coach Hedge whistles. "Big giant. Breathes fire. Not somebody I'd want barbecuing my daddy goat."

(Y/n) gives him a shut up look. "Piper, go on. What happened?"

"I — I tried to reach my dad, but all I got was his personal assistant, and she told me not to worry."

"Jane?" Leo remembers. "Didn't Medea say something about controlling her?"

Piper nods. "To get my dad back, I had to sabotage this quest. I didn't realize it would be the four of us. Then after we started the quest, Enceladus sent me another warning: He told me he wanted you three dead. He wants me to lead you to a mountain. I don't know exactly which one, but it's in the Bay Area — I could see the Golden Gate Bridge from the summit. I have to be there by noon on the solstice, tomorrow. An exchange."

She can't meet her friends' eyes. She waits for them to yell at her, or turn their backs, or kick her out into the snowstorm.

Instead, (Y/n) scoots next to her and puts her arm around her again, "Gods, Piper. I'm so sorry."

Leo nods, "No kidding. You've been carrying this around for a week?"

"Piper, we could help you," Jason adds.

She glares at each of them. "Why don't you yell at me or something? I was ordered to kill you."

"Aww, come on," Jason says. "You've saved all three of us on this quest."

"You don't get it!" Piper argues. "I've probably just killed my dad, telling you this."

"I doubt it." Coach Hedge belches. He is eating his tofu burger folded inside the paper plate, chewing it all like a taco. "Giant hasn't gotten what he wants yet, so he still needs your dad for leverage. He'll wait until the deadline passes, see if you show up. He wants you to divert the quest to this mountain, right?"

Piper nods uncertainly.

"So that means Hera is being kept somewhere else," Hedge reasons. "And she has to be saved by the same day. So you have to choose — rescue your dad, or rescue Hera. If you go after Hera, then Enceladus takes care of your dad. Besides, Enceladus would never let you go even if you cooperated. You're obviously one of the seven in the Great Prophecy."

One of the seven. She'd talked about this before with Jason, (Y/n), and Leo, and she supposes it must be true, but she still has trouble believing it. She doesn't feel that important. She is just a stupid child of Aphrodite. How can I be worth deceiving and killing?

"So we have no choice," she replies miserably. "We have to save Hera, or the giant king gets unleashed. That's our quest. The world depends on it. And Enceladus seems to have ways of watching me. He isn't stupid. He'll know if we change course and go the wrong way. He'll kill my dad."

"He's not going to kill your dad," Leo says. "We'll save him."

"We don't have time!" Piper cries. "Besides, it's a trap."

We're your friends, beauty queen," Leo said. "We're not going to let your dad die. We just gotta figure out a plan."

Coach Hedge grumbles. "Would help if we knew where this mountain was. Maybe Aeolus can tell you that. The Bay Area has a bad reputation for demigods. Old home of the Titans, Mount Othrys, sits over Mount Tam, where Atlas holds up the sky. I hope that's not the mountain you saw."

Piper tries to remember the vista in her dreams. "I don't think so. This was inland."

Jason frowns at the fire, like he is trying to remember something.

"Bad reputation . . . that doesn't seem right. The Bay Area . . ."

"You think you've been there?" Piper asks the son of Zeus.

"I. . . He looks like he is almost on the edge of a breakthrough. Then the anguish comes back into his eyes. "I don't know. Hedge, what happened to Mount Othrys?"

Hedge takes another bite of paper and burger. "Well, Kronos built a new palace there last summer. Big nasty place, was going to be the headquarters for his new kingdom and all. Weren't any battles there, though. Kronos marched on Manhattan, tried to take Olympus. If I remember right, he left some other Titans in charge of his palace, but after Kronos got defeated in Manhattan, the whole palace just crumbled on its own."

"No," Jason says suddenly.

Everyone looks at him.

"What do you mean, 'No'?" Leo questions.

"That's not what happened. I—" He tenses, looking toward the cave entrance. "Did you hear that?"

For a second, nothing. Then Piper hears it: howls piercing the night.

Word Count: 11828 words

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 13: I BUY SOME NEW FRIENDS

Annabeth woke up with the crystal clear feeling that something was right.

She felt the back pressed against hers, warm and breathing, and smiled. She wished she could just lay there forever, but she knew. They had to finish this. She had to get her boyfriend back.

The worries and fears still lingered in her like flickering shadows waiting to drag her down. What if Percy came out of this different, or changed? What if this latest interference was what finally pushed him to far? She'd have liked to stay up reading some more, but as soon as Percy had settled asleep she'd been right behind him, even as her mind lingered on Luke. She knew why Percy had seemed quiet, maybe a tad resentful of her yesterday, and it meant the world to her he hadn't pushed her away and slammed the door in her face as she lay on the ocean floor now, replaying her own quest over and over in her head without the aide of his memories.

One too many wrong assumptions on her part had started them off, of course.

The truths at the end of those tunnels still didn't sit right with her some days. Nico finding his sister only for a goodbye. Tyson had found Brairies, only for him to run away. Grover found Pan, but had to let him go. Percy found an incredible power within that almost destroyed him and scared him to abandon everything. She had found Daedalus, only to find he wasn't the savior she needed. They all found truth about the person they admired, known and dreamed most only to find them wrong.

Then it was her turn to accept the truth too. The memories Hestia had given Percy only reinforced that she needed to give her own past a good hard look.

Admitting that she had been wrong about her hero wasn't something she ever thought she could do. It's not easy when one's role model turned out to have a fundamental flaw in their character. It is often worse to lose the idea of them than to lose them to death. She now needed to accept the truth about Luke. She never knew him, only the version of her hero she'd met that first day. She made him her everything without completely knowing him and holding on it for a long time.

She'd held on to the past and lived in the present while planning everything for the future.

And lose a love...to worse than death.

Now that it finally came down to it, the truth that she'd avoided all along didn't hurt as much as she'd feared it would as she rolled over and gently placed her hand on Percy's arm. He slept on, even as he leaned back some and muttered where the sun had gone. She squeezed gently as she began to sit up and his muttering increased while the drool kept his face glued well to the pillow.

She was tempted to let him have his rest and go around to see if the others were awake, she had a feeling she was one of the first ones up, but the second her eyes went to the door, her nails sunk into her boyfriend's arm in protest. She didn't care she told herself it was paranoia, all she felt was the instant fear gripping her tight until she looked back down, and began vigorously shaking him awake.

...

There wasn't much commotion and fanfare as breakfast was had and they all settled in, Percy more eagerly than anyone to hopefully, finally, finish this once and for all. His life at least. He'd feel guilty later they'd have to start all over again when they got to Jason's and it was another long slog of nonsense.

Alex came in last, Magnus noticed as he fiddled with a kabab stick as a very horrible toothpick. She was adjusting a dark pink, full-sleeved popcorn shirt that showed off her midriff, running her hands around in joy over the material as her floor-length green skirt billowed around with a long slit up one side clean up to her hip, showing hints of the pink and green chucks beneath. She yawned her proper pronouns to the others while finishing pulling her hair into a twist on top of her head.

Thalia hadn't let herself be distracted from the important things though. Teasing Percy. "Your mom would be so disappointed in you!" She grinned at him as she read the new title, instantly distracting him and of course causing nothing but interruptions. "You're better than that young man, you can make real friends by sharing common interests."

"How much do I have to pay you to go away?" Percy rolled his eyes.

"You could never afford it," she snorted. "Rachel couldn't afford it!"

"The real friends are the ones you're stuck with along the way," Will snorted.

"Stuck like horse glue," Alex snickered, "do you think Blackjack would be offended by that or love it?"

"Depends entirely on who he's stuck to I'd guess," Percy sighed.

"You, obviously," Alex rolled her eyes while Annabeth swatted at her to get her to start already.

Mrs. O'Leary was the only one happy about the sleeping city.

"Dogs are just like that," Annabeth agreed with joy. "I remember one time I failed my spelling test and I got my dog to jump around with me when I made it a fake A."

Percy grinned at the idea of a five-year-old Annabeth in clothes that fit her, jumping around her furniture with a Doberman twice the size of her barking and bouncing along every step. "What was your dog's name?" He asked, pleased beyond words he could finally ask her something like that casually instead of hoping Magnus would know. Percy had a feeling even if he did, he wouldn't be happy sharing, with his obvious aversion to all dog-shaped things.

"Frostine," Annabeth grinned. "I used to play Candyland with her. She was Queen of the Ice Cream Sea, and my dog's eyes were that shade of blue. Plus, we all know raspberry is the best flavor."

Percy threw his head back and laughed at the painted picture, causing a ripple of the others to join in.

Percy wanted to ask what had happened to her, but Thalia had a sense that's why he leaned forward and seemed eager to continue the conversation, and Thalia started reading loudly to avoid that sad conclusion. Her stepmother had insisted the dog needed to be given up when she became pregnant. It was one of many times Annabeth had sat on her lap and fought back tears she didn't have to anymore as she played with the other homeless teenager's mutts.

We found her pigging out at an overturned hot dog stand while the owner was curled up on the sidewalk, sucking his thumb.

"Argus was clearly doing a great job," Jason snorted.

"I told him to watch her," Percy shrugged without concern. "As long as he was watching her eat, I guess he's technically still doing his job."

Argus was waiting for us with his hundred eyes wide open. He didn't say anything. He never does. I guess that's because he supposedly has an eyeball on his tongue. But his face made it clear he was freaking out.

"I would be too," Jason nodded. It was always a cautious, often stressful feeling to move around when others were asleep. He couldn't imagine fighting a whole war around that.

"What about the airport?" Magnus frowned. "And helicopters? I'm surprised you didn't hear those crashlanding by getting to close to Olympus or the pilots falling asleep at the wheel too."

"Hopefully like the cars they just, sunk to the ground nice and slow," but Percy was guessing at best, more than a few fenderbenders had been in sight. In fact the idea made his head hurt quite a lot what he was missing-

Annabeth gave him a little nudge. Just a gentle pressure and release, enough he looked around at her with the same quiet worry in his eyes she was so sorry to see every time.

He smiled at her though. Taking just that breath to appreciate the silence that spoke for them both of being there together before Thalia hastily read on.

I told him what we'd learned in Olympus, and how the gods would not be riding to the rescue. Argus rolled his eyes in disgust, which looked pretty psychedelic since it made his whole body swirl.

"Cool," Alex grinned. "Hey doc, which drugs do I take to make everyone look like that."

"None," Will frowned at her in concern. "Please do not ingest random things Alex."

"Killjoy," she huffed.

'Better than asking which god would curse her eyes to see that,' Magnus kept the thought to himself lest he set it upon Alex's brain.

"You'd better get back to camp," I told him. "Guard it as best you can."

He pointed at me and raised his eyebrow quizzically.

"I'm staying," I said.

Argus nodded, like this answer satisfied him.

"That was never in question," Thalia rolled her eyes. "He probably wanted to know what you planned on doing."

"Something crazy I'm sure," Percy shrugged.

"Well that went without saying," she snorted.

He looked at Annabeth and drew a circle in the air with his finger.

"To infinite and beyond?" Will scratched at the back of his neck, feeling weird for still being sort of out of the loop even this late in the game, but it's not as if every cabin had run every strategy by him while he'd been doing inventory on how much supplies they had.

"Yes," Annabeth agreed. "I think it's time."

"For what?" I asked.

Argus rummaged around in the back of his van. He brought out a bronze shield and passed it to Annabeth. It looked pretty much standard issue—the same kind of round shield we always used in capture the flag. But when Annabeth set it on the ground, the reflection on the polished metal changed from sky and buildings to the Statue of Liberty—which wasn't anywhere close to us.

"Whoa," I said. "A video shield."

"I was never really joking about you taking over the planet," Alex told Annabeth. "Now it's just one step closer to being true."

"That is a seriously overpowered thing that would have been nice to have all this time," Magnus said, "but I'm guessing the CIA's going to show up here in a second and confiscate it too, so," he trailed off with a deeply concerned look that his cousin might be on a few watch lists right along with Percy.

"I didn't have Deadulus's laptop all this time," Annabeth reminded. "And, um, well, Beckendorf had a few mistakes before he got it working right. That thing that might have exploded camp if he didn't keep an eye on it, yeah, good chance it was a prototype of this."

"One of Daedalus's ideas," Annabeth said. "I had Beckendorf make this before—" She glanced at Silena.

"Um, anyway, the shield bends sunlight or moonlight from anywhere in the world to create a reflection. You can literally see any target under the sun or moon, as long as natural light is touching it. Look."

"You have a gods eye view," Jason savored the words on his tongue. Words that felt powerful right down to his core, it made him feel lightheaded for a moment.

"I wonder if we can use it to spy on Hollywood, see what the next blockbuster is shooting today," Percy grinned, before he oofed as Annabeth elbowed him. "But yeah, Kronos too, obviously importante'," he finished with a strange, bad Spanish accent at the end.

We crowded around as Annabeth concentrated. The image zoomed and spun at first, so I got motion sickness just watching it.

Thalia turned verdant at the mere idea and knew she'd never be very good at using this thing.

We were in the Central Park Zoo, then zooming down East 60th, past Bloomingdale's, then turning on Third Avenue.

"Whoa," Connor Stoll said. "Back up. Zoom in right there."

"What?" Annabeth said nervously. "You see invaders?"

"No, right there—Dylan's Candy Bar." Connor grinned at his brother. "Dude, it's open. And everyone is asleep. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Percy threw back his head with laughter he'd tried his very hardest to suppress at the time, so they knew at least he was thinking what Connor was thinking.

"Connor!" Katie Gardner scolded. She sounded like her mother, Demeter.

"Isn't it so fascinating and impressive how we can emulate our parents, oftentimes when spending no significant development around them," Jason said in a whistful kind of voice, obviously a thought bubble that had been in his head long before this. It popped quite suddenly as he glanced at Thalia, and then grimaced at the idea of Beryl and Zeus/ Jupiter/ if he thought about it to long it gave him a splitting migraine because all he could pull together was Mrs. O'Leary but he knew that wasn't right!

"Not so much," Alex's tone was mild, but Magnus heard the stony anger layering beneath. He watched her for a few extra moments and saw with her hair pulled up like that, there was something on the back of her neck. He would have leaned in to get a closer look if it wouldn't have been super obvious.

"This is serious. You are not going to loot a candy store in the middle of a war!"

"Both sentences could coexist," Percy told her with a tragic frown. He'd only restrained himself at the time telling her because of responsibility and leadership and whatever.

"Oh I'm sure they did," Nico rolled his eyes. Hermes might have broken out of his murdery/ sad funk over Luke to praise those two for their priorities.

"Sorry," Connor muttered, but he didn't sound very ashamed.

"Yeah, I got that too," Annabeth sighed, making them all chuckle she was as aware as anybody no scolding had stalled many hands.

Annabeth passed her hand in front of the shield, and another scene popped up: FDR Drive, looking across the river at Lighthouse Park.

"This will let us see what's going on across the city," she said. "Thank you, Argus. Hopefully we'll see you back at camp . . . someday."

"Because that's not ominous at all," Thalia frowned at her. Obviously it was a dire situation, but that was just bleak.

"Ominous is what I voted Percy and Annabeth name their firstborn," Will smirked.

Percy choked on air and might have exploded on a blush while Annabeth gave him A Look that kept him silent for a bit as Thalia kept going.

Argus grunted. He gave me a look that clearly meant Good luck; you'll need it, then climbed into his van. He and the two harpy drivers swerved away, weaving around clusters of idle cars that littered the road.

I whistled for Mrs. O'Leary, and she came bounding over.

"Hey, girl," I said. "You remember Grover? The satyr we met in the park?"

"WOOF!"

I hoped that meant Sure I do! And not, Do you have more hot dogs?

"Both?" Alex of course had to play up the previous joke.

"Both," Magnus all to happily agreed.

"Both!" The two cheered before snickering.

"I need you to find him," I said. "Make sure he's still awake. We're going to need his help. You got that? Find Grover!"

Mrs. O'Leary gave me a sloppy wet kiss, which seemed kind of unnecessary.

"Entirely disagree," Will gave Percy a grin. Percy didn't have nearly as strong a look as Annabeth to keep him shut up, but he wished he did as Will continued, "and I'm sure it all depends who the kiss is from too."

"Will," Annabeth sounded more exasperated than stern while Percy tried to strangle his own chagrin. "Stop teasing him."

"Well you're no fun," Will huffed before flashing a grin same as her.

"And it's not going to happen Annabeth, he's been free game this whole time," Thalia shrugged.

"I know," she sighed. Mostly she was just jealous still she wasn't here for it all.

Then she raced off north.

Pollux crouched next to a sleeping policeman. "I don't get it. Why didn't we fall asleep too? Why just the mortals?"

"This is a huge spell," Silena Beauregard said. "The bigger the spell, the easier it is to resist. If you want to sleep millions of mortals, you've got to cast a very thin layer of magic. Sleeping demigods is much harder."

I stared at her. "When did you learn so much about magic?"

Silena blushed. "I don't spend all my time on my wardrobe."

"Only like, fifty percent," Thalia nodded seriously.

"Imagine how dangerous this girl would be if she wore sweatpants one day," Alex snorted.

Magnus was still lagging a few sentences backwards wondering about the intricacies of this magic spell. Would he have fallen asleep? He assumed he wasn't strictly mortal anymore, but he didn't assume he was half Greek either.

"Percy," Annabeth called. She was still looking at the shield. "You'd better see this."

The bronze image showed Long Island Sound near La Guardia. A fleet of a dozen speedboats raced through the dark water toward Manhattan. Each boat was packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flapped in the night wind. I'd never seen that design before, but it wasn't hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos.

"Scan the perimeter of the island," I said. "Quick."

Annabeth shifted the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry was plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck was crowded with dracaenae and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship was a pod of marine mammals. At first I thought they were dolphins. Then I saw their doglike faces and the swords strapped to their waists, and I realized they were telkhines—sea demons.

"Who got the short straws of coming via water?" Thalia looked pained at these pawns. It's like Kronos wasn't even trying.

"Or he's trying to make it so Percy can't be everywhere at once," Jason said shrewdly. While Percy went down to deal with two simultaneous attacks, the rest of Camp would have to fight without him.

The scene shifted again: the Jersey shore, right at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters were marching past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclopes, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of its way as it rumbled into the tunnel.

"Why does everyone get a tank besides me?" Percy sighed. "We should at least get something as cool. Like monkeys on horses, or the gargoyles coming to help. I'll take dinosaurs with machine guns!"

"Well now you're just asking for to much Percy," Jason said with a faint smile. "Would have been better off asking for another sand dollar."

"What's happening with the mortals outside Manhattan?" I said. "Is the whole state asleep?"

Annabeth frowned. "I don't think so, but it's strange. As far as I can tell from these pictures, Manhattan is totally asleep. Then there's like a fifty-mile radius around the island where time is running really, really slow. The closer you get to Manhattan, the slower it is."

She showed me another scene—a New Jersey highway. It was Saturday evening, so the traffic wasn't as bad as it might've been on a weekday. The drivers looked awake, but the cars were moving at about one mile per hour. Birds flew overhead in slow motion.

"Wow," Alex murmured. The idea did not sit well with her that the gods could combine their might and do this to the whole world if they ever wished. The kind of power that needed to be reminded every once in a while they could be toppled. Also one of the reasons she liked Percy so much.

"Kronos," I said. "He's slowing time."

"Hecate might be helping," Katie Gardner said. "Look how the cars are all veering away from the Manhattan exits, like they're getting a subconscious message to turn back."

"I don't know." Annabeth sounded really frustrated. She hated not knowing.

"Can you even imagine a time before Google though," Annabeth sounded just as annoyed now. "All those great experts expected to figure everything out because they were the first in untested waters, and half of them probably figured it out without their lives being threatened."

Percy agreed she was one of the greats who had managed that and just nodded he almost understood the idea. Being the only child of the Big Three around camp was as close as he could imagine.

"But somehow they've surrounded Manhattan in layers of magic. The outside world might not even realize something is wrong. Any mortals coming toward Manhattan will slow down so much they won't know what's happening."

"Like flies in amber," Jake Mason murmured.

Magnus was really worried for one second that if one more person even made a vague Jurassic Park reference they really were going to get a T-Rex in this, but he waved that off as just pessimistic thinking.

Annabeth nodded. "We shouldn't expect any help coming in."

Maybe not from the way she expected, but how about up? Nico thought to himself with a faint smile. He really hoped when they got to that part Percy wouldn't start freaking out about the zombie apocalypse and see him as a threat too, even for a second.

I turned to my friends. They looked stunned and scared, and I couldn't blame them. The shield had shown us at least three hundred enemies on the way. There were forty of us. And we were alone.

Percy and his friends had always been alone on nearly every quest they traveled, relying only on themselves and the occasional godly intervention. The weight of that didn't hit as hard on Annabeth as it might have some of the other campers as she'd looked to Percy, addressing them all. She'd been lucky, in one sense, having more experience than some of those guys older than her.

"All right," I said. "We're going to hold Manhattan."

Silena tugged at her armor. "Um, Percy, Manhattan is huge."

Annabeth swallowed the traitorous, painful knot in her throat as she wondered if Silena was pointing that out to discourage them. If she'd wanted them to surrender to Luke's side without a fight.

If Silena had thought they'd consider that for even a second, she'd been more delusional than Annabeth herself in her youth.

"We are going to hold it," I said. "We have to."

"He's right," Annabeth said. "The gods of the wind should keep Kronos's forces away from Olympus by air, so he'll try a ground assault. We have to cut off the entrances to the island."

"They have boats," Michael Yew pointed out.

"You have a Percy," Magnus snorted. He'd been flinging them around in here like plankton without even trying. He had complete confidence Percy could snap his fingers and deal with those boats.

The problem would arise when he looked at the kids on those boats, and how willing he'd be to disarm them. Nobody was going to sit around and tell Percy what the right answer to that was going to be.

Percy grinned in thanks. He did have a pretty good gut feeling that went well enough, which was always a good omen. They probably didn't have many of those left.

An electric tingle went down my back. Suddenly I understood Athena's advice: Remember the rivers.

"She was, warning you to guard from all sides?" Alex raised a brow. It seemed obvious advice to her, not something a wisdom goddess would fill the need to emphasize. She couldn't think Percy was That Dumb, or that her own daughter wouldn't consider such things.

Percy no longer had that sand dollar in place, but he ran his hand curiously over his beaded necklace all the same.

"I'll take care of the boats," I said.

Michael frowned. "How?"

"I can't believe he questioned that," Thalia scoffed.

"I don't think he was around that day I threatened to throw a river at you," Percy grinned as he glanced at Will, who nodded in silent agreement. Percy turned back to Thalia to fast to see his smile slipping away. "I'm sure some of the guys around there think what we can do gets exaggerated," Percy's grin was tinged with an adrenaline rush fueled by the end. His nerves were almost tingling with excitement. He was ready, he was excited to hear about the chaos he'd bring on these monsters who threatened his home.

"Just leave it to me," I said. "We need to guard the bridges and tunnels. Let's assume they'll try a midtown or downtown assault, at least on their first try. That would be the most direct way to the Empire State Building. Michael, take Apollo's cabin to the Williamsburg Bridge.

Will would bet one of his kidneys Micheal had been proud to be the first cabin named. That his older brother had puffed up his chest and grinned that same maniac smile Percy just had at being the first option to come to Percy's mind. He couldn't be mad, he couldn't even hold onto as much sadness as he knew would come soon enough when the results were plastered all over that page in blood. He just managed a proud smile for his siblings too for that moment.

Katie, Demeter's cabin takes the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. Grow thorn bushes and poison ivy in the tunnel. Do whatever you have to do, but keep them out of there! Conner, take half of Hermes cabin and cover the Manhattan Bridge. Travis, you take the other half and cover the Brooklyn Bridge. And no stopping for looting or pillaging!"

"Awwww!" the whole Hermes cabin complained.

"Percy just being a complete killjoy aside," Alex chuckled, "can we rewind back to the part where you decided to split that entire cabin in half?" She knew there were more kids in there than the others, but it still surprised her there were enough to split forces like that.

She only remembered as the comment left her mouth though that the unclaimed kids would have been in that category too. Any child that might have gone with any other cabin, or just not known where to go period also would have fallen in line with them. Gods, wouldn't that be a mess of a feeling? Loki had given her exactly two good things, an identity she could choose to ignore, and her shapeshifting. To not have that as she fought for her life was not an idea she easily pondered.

"Silena, take the Aphrodite crew to the Queens-Midtown Tunnel."

"Oh my gods," one of her sisters said. "Fifth Avenue is so on our way! We could accessorize, and monsters, like, totally hate the smell of Givenchy."

"No delays," I said. "Well . . . the perfume thing, if you think it'll work."

"I'm impressed you knew that was a perfume," Annabeth admitted, the brand hadn't rung any of her bells.

"Well I didn't assume they were sniffing purses," Percy shrugged.

Six Aphrodite girls kissed me on the cheek in excitement.

"Like, all at once in a flash mob, or did they form a line?" Thalia asked in mild concern if Annabeth had started stabbing her own troops before Silena got the chance.

"They formed a line," Percy frowned, "I should have charged them, one of them got way to close to my mouth."

"Drew's always wanted her chance," Annabeth grumbled.

"I'm over here offended for the Hermes kids!" Alex was still snickering. "You just gave this lot permission to go raiding their favorite store, but a few innocent water balloons filled with greek fire go missing and you're going to disaprove?"

"Depends how relevant that thieving is," Percy rolled his eyes. "No monsters going to blink at having a nice watch chucked in their face unless Tyson made it."

"I'm sure Rollex will get right on that design flaw," Alex chuckled.

"All right, enough!" I closed my eyes, trying to think of what I'd forgotten. "The Holland Tunnel. Jake, take the Hephaestus cabin there. Use Greek fire, set traps. Whatever you've got."

He grinned. "Gladly. We've got a score to settle. For Beckendorf!"

The whole cabin roared in approval.

Percy was flooded with the same sense of admiration as when he first saw that, those boys and girls who hadn't even hesitated to dive into what had gotten his friend killed by following his lead. He wondered if Nico were there, would he be so cavalier about following one of Percy's plans? Or would he be frowning in disapproval and trying to come up with his own ideas that would get him thrown in another cell under Hades's palace. He almost couldn't blame him as Bianca's ghost shimmered to mind right alongside Beckendorf's. How many more were going to join after today?

"The 59th Street Bridge," I said. "Clarisse—"

I faltered. Clarisse wasn't here. The whole Ares cabin, curse them, was sitting back at camp.

"She's not even there and she's out here ruining your day," Nico nodded.

"Girl strives for perfection at everything I guess," Percy scowled. He wasn't even sure how she would have responded upon being there. While she'd handed over the reigns to Annabeth without question during that quest, and she'd mellowed out quite a lot since dating Chris who also wasn't there, he just had that feeling like she would not have gone along quietly with wherever he assigned her cabin without some remark.

"We'll take that," Annabeth stepped in, saving me from an embarrassing silence.

"Woman's great at many a things, but that's definitely what she's best at," Magnus snorted.

Annabeth grinned with pride and gave her cousin a grateful nod while Percy didn't bother arguing the point. He'd just assumed Annabeth would be by his side during the battle, delegating her siblings hadn't even crossed his mind.

She turned to her siblings. "Malcolm, take the Athena cabin, activate plan twenty-three along the way, just like I showed you. Hold that position."

"You got it."

"I'll go with Percy," she said.

"You really shouldn't be wasting your breath right now guys, there's going to be enough trees torn down over in the battery tunnel in a second," Jason snorted.

Annabeth gave him a little smirk and promised, "I'll plant a few extra seeds when we get home to make up for it."

"Then we'll join you, or we'll go wherever we're needed."

Somebody in the back of the group said, "No detours, you two."

There were some giggles, but I decided to let it pass.

"Somebody get this guy a safety vest, he'll make a great crosswalk guard one day," Will nodded at him.

"That was you, wasn't it?" Percy frowned in vague recognition of the voice before puberty made it crack.

"No," Will blinked innocently, a look that Percy couldn't quite decide how much he believed.

"All right," I said. "Keep in touch with cell phones."

"We don't have cell phones," Silena protested.

Annabeth's brain still couldn't seem to stop itself overanalyzing everything she'd said and done. Had she not wanted to keep communication open? Why would she draw attention to herself at the idea? Silena was one of the few at camp that did have a cell phone and everyone knew it, she and Beckendorf had gotten a plan together for her birthday.

Though now that she thought about it, Annabeth hadn't seen it recently. She wondered if she'd tried to flush the thing away after the explosion.

I reached down, picked up some snoring lady's BlackBerry, and tossed it to Silena. "You do now. You all know Annabeth's number, right? If you need us, pick up a random phone and call us. Use it once, drop it, then borrow another one if you have to. That should make it harder for the monsters to zero in on you."

Everyone grinned as though they liked this idea.

Jason didn't, considering monsters were going to be crawling literally all over the city in moments, but he wasn't going to argue the point. He held his tongue and would not be the one to take away a second of hope.

Travis cleared his throat. "Uh, if we find a really nice phone—"

"No, you can't keep it," I said.

"Aw, man."

"You might as well go over and stomp on him already Percy, ruining this boy's day," Alex chuckled.

"I'm sure you and the Stolls will make me regret my morals someday," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Hold it, Percy," Jake Mason said. "You forgot the Lincoln Tunnel."

I bit back a curse. He was right. A Sherman tank and a hundred monsters were marching through that tunnel right now, and I'd positioned our forces everywhere else.

"The obvious strategic move, they'll never see that coming," Thalia laughed. She'd clearly gotten there at the perfect time to also save his butt. She and Annabeth could make matching shirts out of that one day.

Then a girl's voice called from across the street: "How about you leave that to us?"

I'd never been happier to hear anyone in my life.

"Yes!" Thalia cheered by doing an actual fist pump before jabbing a finger at Annabeth. "Take that you little nerd! I'd never get him to admit that out loud!"

"Yeah, yeah," Percy twirled his wrist around in mock agreement. "Thalia saves the day again, another story at eleven about gas prices going up, change the channel already."

"Well it's no fun if you agree Percy," Thalia huffed while Percy smirked that had not only been the point, but Annabeth could stop muttering about her sister calling her a nerd again.

A band of thirty adolescent girls crossed Fifth Avenue. They wore white shirts, silvery camouflage pants, and combat boots. They all had swords at their sides, quivers on their backs, and bows at the ready. A pack of white timber wolves milled around their feet, and many of the girls had hunting falcons on their arms.

"Thalia's back," Alex said pointedly in case anybody missed that. Though if somebody was actually sleeping in here it really was on them.

"And she didn't even threaten to shoot any of us, it was a great day," Will rolled his eyes.

The girl in the lead had spiky black hair and a black leather jacket. She wore a silver circlet on her head like a princess's tiara, which didn't match her skull earrings or her Death to Barbie T-shirt showing a little Barbie doll with an arrow through its head.

"No, no, now Thalia's back," Percy snorted.

"Yes, thank you for picking me out of the crowd I was in front of, your genius levels of perception go unmatched once again," Thalia scoffed.

"Thalia!" Annabeth cried.

The daughter of Zeus grinned. "The Hunters of Artemis, reporting for duty."

Jason grinned. He was still kind of, sort of hurt Thalia had never told him what she suspected the truth to be about even a sliver of where he came from, but that didn't stop his glow of pride that this was his sister. A badass with a title like that she didn't even need to back it up, rallying in for the backup Percy had always needed in times like this.

Thalia saw that grin and smiled hesitantly back. Even knowing she'd messed up, she didn't know how she'd go back and fix it, but it was a nice feeling for a second that they could still move forward.

There were hugs and greetings all around . . . or at least Thalia was friendly. The other Hunters didn't like being around campers, especially boys, but they didn't shoot any of us, which for them was a pretty warm welcome.

"We were even invited back to Camp for showing such restraint," Thalia grinned in agreement.

"Spoiler alert Camp still exists I guess," Percy rubbed at his temple but still smiled anyways as he repressed a shiver. Gods he wished this day was over with already, he was so sick of having a constant headache over things that should have felt as natural as the rainfall.

"Where have you been the last year?" I asked Thalia. "You've got like twice as many Hunters now!"

She laughed. "Long, long story. I bet my adventures were more dangerous than yours, Jackson."

"Still willing to hedge that bet?" Percy smirked.

"You spent a few weeks in the Labyrinth, don't get me started on my months," Thalia nodded. "What exactly are you willing to cough up?"

Percy opened his mouth, the two absolutely would have started sitting around gambling money neither of them probably even had until Annabeth got their attention in fond exasperation.

"Complete lie," I said.

"We'll see," she promised. "After this is over, you, Annabeth, and me: cheeseburgers and fries at that hotel on West 57th."

"What is it with you two and cheeseburgers?" Jason chuckled, still sounding a little awkward, but also leaning forward eagerly in his seat to be included. "Other food groups exist you know."

"And they can all go on a good cheeseburger," Percy nodded as if he'd agreed.

"Putting two things between a bun doesn't make a cheeseburger Percy," Thalia rolled her eyes. "I crave meat and cheese!"

"Sure it does," Percy was winding up for another fight already and Annabeth looked ready to pull her hair out. "Had this chicken parmesan leftovers the other night I put between two brioche buns," he paused and gave a chef's kiss. "Master Italian Burger."

"Can I disagree?" Nico frowned.

"Chicken makes it a chicken sandwich not a burger you bottom feeder! And if you put marinara anywhere near me without cheese sticks I'll smother you," Thalia huffed.

"Okay food police," Magnus laughed, "you two are making me hungry already and we've just started."

Jason and Nico exchanged exasperated looks they'd been accidentally ignored in those two over there, but had a quick muttered conversation to resolve this by making them give a cook off later. They could argue over a grill all they liked as long as they got to reap the rewards.

"Le Parker Meridien," I said. "You're on. And Thalia, thanks."

She shrugged. "Those monsters won't know what hit them. Hunters, move out!"

She slapped her silver bracelet, and the shield Aegis spiraled into full form. The golden head of Medusa molded in the center was so horrible, the campers all backed away. The Hunters took off down the avenue, followed by their wolves and falcons, and I had a feeling the Lincoln Tunnel would be safe for now.

"Just a feeling, a hunch really, a barely flickering lightbulb," Thalia nodded sagely as she tapped the side of Percy's head.

He swatted her away and called her a few things that would have made Aegis cringe.

"Thank the gods," Annabeth said. "But if we don't blockade the rivers from those boats, guarding the bridges and tunnels will be pointless."

"You're right," I said.

I looked at the campers, all of them grim and determined. I tried not to feel like this was the last time I'd ever see them all together.

"Well thanks Percy, now we're all thinking that," Alex said with an awkward smile. She'd never even met those kids and she knew they weren't all going to make it to the next camp bonfire.

Her tone wasn't light, exactly, she wasn't making fun of Percy, she was just being a smartass. Like she would have been had she actually been there and knew same as him that would be the last thing they'd hear from her.

"You're the greatest heroes of this millennium," I told them. "It doesn't matter how many monsters come at you. Fight bravely, and we will win." I raised Riptide and shouted, "FOR OLYMPUS!"

"Nice speech," Annabeth placed her hand on his shoulder.

He waited for her to follow that up with, 'for a seaweed brain' or something, but when she didn't he sat up straight in his seat. He put his hand over hers and wondered if this was how Zeus felt all the time being on top of the world.

They shouted in response, and our forty voices echoed off the buildings of Midtown. For a moment it sounded brave, but it died quickly in the silence of ten million sleeping New Yorkers.

Percy had never been a fan of silence. Sitting around waiting in hard plastic chairs for the teacher or principal to come yell at him. The disappointed silence when even his mother couldn't say a nice thing about why he'd been expelled this time. The long, absent silences when Annabeth either couldn't, or wouldn't talk to him.

This silence felt deeper. He already knew a predator was waiting in the next shadow for them all. The cheer from his friends followed by the deep, ear piercing night was like something right out of a horror film, and he was walking right into the final act. He glanced at Annabeth and worried with a deep fear he couldn't wait to shake how they made it out of this.

Annabeth and I would've had our pick of cars, but they were all wedged in bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Annabeth frowned that felt like some kind of metaphor in there for her past if she'd ever had the whim to draw one. This section of Percy's life had started with him and Rachel cruising down an open stretch of beach without a care in the world. Her? She got to pass her dream car of a 1967 Chevy Impala, it's fender in ruins, she hadn't even gotten a chance to look at the hood! While she and Percy were racing to end another world ending disaster. Again.

None of the engines were running, which was weird. It seemed the drivers had had time to turn off the ignition before they got too sleepy. Or maybe Morpheus had the power to put engines to sleep as well.

"That, hurts my brain," Magnus said, each word clearly a pain.

"We really haven't had any major instances of the gods toying with our machinery," Alex agreed, tapping her chin in fascination. "Hephaestus obviously benefits from it, but hasn't interfered with it has he?"

"I imagine they all have mixed feelings about each new thing invented," Annabeth grinned. Hermes was probably offended at the idea of ATM's because it made thieving just a bit harder. Zeus had probably made global warming increase by accident he'd be so happy about a lightbulb being invented. She'd tried asking her mom on an Olympus field trip once how she felt about the sowing machine and she'd given her a look of such mixed emotions she'd felt the need to hide under her cap before waiting around for an answer.

Most of the drivers had apparently tried to pull to the curb when they felt themselves passing out, but still the streets were too clogged to navigate.

Finally we found an unconscious courier leaning against a brick wall, still straddling his red Vespa.

We dragged him off the scooter and laid him on the sidewalk.

"Sorry, dude," I said. With any luck, I'd be able to bring his scooter back. If I didn't, it would hardly matter, because the city would be destroyed.

"You get credit for the consideration though," Will still said in delight the thought even crossed his mind. Connor and Travis probably would have tried to smuggle that into their backpack in parts.

"Where did you even learn to ride a Vespa?" Magnus asked rather than imagining his cousin clinging to Percy's back on it. "I didn't question you on Ares's motorcycle-"

"What? When?!"- Annabeth tried to interrupt.

"- because, godly machine, whatever, intuitive, but this?"

"Same deal as a motorcycle man, like you said. Just, hold down the lever thingy, twist the twisty part, and it goes," Percy shrugged.

"Lever thingy?" Annabeth groaned, for now distracted from her cousin not able to shut his trap about a mission Clarisse wouldn't want her to know about. "It's called a clutch Percy! Gods seaweed brain, how did you not get us killed?"

"I don't need to know the names of all the parts to get from A to Z Wise Girl," Percy rolled his eyes.

"It's A to B, gods," she groaned.

Percy had never struggled to see the family resemblance here and was actually amused it seemed to be growing more pronounced the longer they were around each other again.

I drove with Annabeth behind me holding on to my waist.

Alex could not let that one pass without a wolf whistle, of course, but Percy didn't care. Everybody in the room might as well have fallen asleep around him as he smiled at the memory of how warm she'd been as she'd held on without hesitation and put the helmet on while glaring at him as she buckled it up. He'd heard her grumbling about this model's gas intake and how she wished she had time to make modifications all the way down the street.

We zigzagged down Broadway with our engine buzzing through the eerie calm. The only sounds were occasional cell phones ringing—like they were calling out to each other, as if New York had turned into a giant electronic aviary.

"Never get tired of your visuals Perce," Nico said with a grin.

"I'd say any time, but I'm not going to lie, I'm looking forward to every one of you getting out of my head," Percy shrugged.

Our progress was slow. Every so often we'd come across pedestrians who'd fallen asleep right in front of a car, and we'd move them just to be safe. Once we stopped to extinguish a pretzel vendor's cart that had caught on fire. A few minutes later we had to rescue a baby carriage that was rolling aimlessly down the street. It turned out there was no baby in it—just somebody's sleeping poodle. Go figure. We parked it safely in a doorway and kept riding.

The acts of general kindness did surprise them. Will felt like hugging the pair. They were in the middle of bracing for a war and still taking the time to show why they'd won, how everybody had come together at the end without even realizing they were doing it.

We were passing Madison Square Park when Annabeth said, "Pull over."

I stopped in the middle of East 23rd. Annabeth jumped off and ran toward the park. By the time I caught up with her, she was staring at a bronze statue on a red marble pedestal. I'd probably passed it a million times but never really looked at it.

The dude was sitting in a chair with his legs crossed. He wore an old-fashioned suit—Abraham Lincoln style—with a bow tie and long coattails and stuff. A bunch of bronze books were piled under his chair. He held a writing quill in one hand and a big metal sheet of parchment in the other.

Alex narrowed her eyes and had a nice long rant about Abraham Lincoln ready to go if anybody gave her half a chance. The president that made her believe in politics and voting and how a good deed could still be layered with bad history.

"Why do we care about . . ." I squinted at the name on the pedestal. "William H. Steward?"

"That's why Mr. D called me that one time," Will popped the side of his head. "I never knew he was calling me someone famous!"

"Will, I worry about you," Nico looked at him strangely for somehow managing to remember all the variations of his name the god had called him.

"That's nice," he chuckled.

"Seward," Annabeth corrected. "He was a New York governor. Minor demigod—son of Hebe, I think. But that's not important.

"Bet it was important to him," Jason frowned. That was probably the most notoriety a child of Hebe had ever gotten. Percy probably didn't even know who Juventas was.

It's the statue I care about."

She climbed on a park bench and examined the base of the statue.

"Don't tell me he's an automaton," I said.

"Where did you get that idea from?" Magnus asked in instant dread while Nico swallowed a new pit of disgust. He probably had his own collection of kidney stones by now from the heavy feeling in him every time they were mentioned around here.

"The way she looked at it, you'll learn that expression quick," Percy sighed. Her gray eyes lit with excitement to examine something, the weariness and way she angled herself to draw her knife at a moment's notice. Like approaching a wild animal raised by people. She might have a good idea what she was doing, but didn't assume it was harmless.

Annabeth smiled. "Turns out most of the statues in the city are automatons. Daedalus planted them here just in case he needed an army."

"Why?" Magnus's voice cracked with pain as he said that right from his soul.

"I was thinking the same thing," Percy agreed way to casually after a statement like that.

"To attack Olympus or defend it?"

Annabeth shrugged. "Either one.

"That's not a shrugging kind of statement Annabeth!" Magnus yelped.

"I'm sorry Magnus," Annabeth said it like she actually meant it too.

"Don't feel to bad," Thalia shook her head as she grinned at Magnus's familiar look of constipation. "He freaks out like that over everything."

"I think hearing the smartest guy alive ever made an army for an ambiguous reason is worthy of some freaking out!" He protested.

"Yeah, but like, also, eh," Percy shrugged. "We have bigger things to worry about."

"No! No eh!" Magnus couldn't hold a scowl, he was to tired of dealing with this.

"Our little fruit cake, always keeping us in perspective of what normal people should freak out over," Alex helpfully added while Magnus looked at her in tragic betrayal because he couldn't deny a word of that while his cousin was still smiling a happier look than he'd ever dreamed she'd have with the miserable life he'd been hearing of her; so he decided to let it go too.

That was plan twenty-three. He could activate one statue and it would start activating its brethren all over the city, until there was an army. It's dangerous, though. You know how unpredictable automatons are."

"Uh-huh," I said. We'd had our share of bad experiences with them.

"I'd like it on record I'm on Magnus's side here with the particular shrugging off of what you're doing," Nico raised his hand.

"Duly noted," Thalia nodded her head fairly like the good child of a leader she sometimes acknowledged she was. "Any other objections before we move on to what happened, opinions be damned?"

Silence was her answer, and Nico and Magnus exchanged looks at being trapped in here with this group of nut jobs.

"You're seriously thinking about activating it?"

"I never question if Annabeth is seriously thinking about anything," Will admitted. "If the idea crosses her mind I just assume she's willing to do it."

"That's terrifying," Percy finally said like the situation called for, and all because he could now never again assume Annabeth didn't have a plan rolled up her sleeve to over-analyze the menu in food section groups.

"I have Daedalus's notes," she said. "I think I can . . . Ah, here we go."

She pressed the tip of Seward's boot, and the statue stood up, its quill and paper ready.

"What's he going to do?" I muttered. "Take a memo?"

"Shh," Annabeth. "Hello, William."

"Bill," I suggested.

"Bill . . . Oh, shut up," Annabeth told me.

"See if I ever try to help you again," Percy grinned.

"Yes, I'll wait with bated breath in fear of that day," she nodded.

 The statue tilted its head, looking at us with blank metal eyes.

Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hello, er, Governor Seward. Command sequence: Daedalus Twentythree. Defend Manhattan. Begin Activation."

Seward jumped off his pedestal. He hit the ground so hard his shoes cracked the sidewalk. Then he went clanking off toward the east.

"He's probably going to wake up Confucius," Annabeth guessed.

"What?" I said.

"Another statue, on Division. The point is, they'll keep waking each other up until they're all activated."

"And then?"

"Hopefully, they defend Manhattan."

"Do they know that we're not the enemy?"

"I think so."

"That's reassuring." I thought about all the bronze statues in the parks, plazas, and buildings of New York. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands.

"No, no, no, no," Magnus seemed stuck on a loop like that until Alex patted his shoulder, breaking him out enough to splutter, "this is how apocalypses get started!"

"Kind of already in one," Percy shrugged. "End of days, reaping of souls on the horizon, etc."

Magnus looked mildly apologetic, but not enough to actually say he was sorry his cousin was creating one while the other was in progress. Was he the only one who noticed she'd yet to mention how to turn them back off?!

Then a ball of green light exploded in the evening sky. Greek fire, somewhere over the East River.

"We have to hurry," I said. And we ran for the Vespa.

We parked outside Battery Park, at the lower tip of Manhattan where the Hudson and East Rivers came together and emptied into the bay.

"Wait here," I told Annabeth.

"As opposed to waiting in some other cliche location for her lost lover to return that isn't a beach?" Alex shook her head at Percy. "For shame, why would you ruin such banality?"

"Alex," Percy spluttered in pain.

Annabeth tossed her hair over her shoulder and sniffed, "I'm no one's damsel, thank you."

"Fair enough," Alex bobbed her head in agreement while Percy was glad to skip past whatever the heck had just happened.

"Percy, you shouldn't go alone."

"Well, unless you can breathe underwater . . ."

She sighed. "You are so annoying sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Percy asked with mild hope in his voice. That sounded better than her thinking him a coward at all times.

"Like the times he doesn't offer to make water cacoons for you?" Jason agreed it felt like Percy wasn't trying his hardest here, he'd throw a fit too.

"Yes, like those," Annabeth gestured impatiently at him while frowning at Percy. He knew she hated to be left out.

Percy gave Jason a dislikeable look. He had enough to concentrate on without splitting his attention.

"Like when I'm right?

"Yes, every damn time you're right," Annabeth sighed.

Thalia snorted, hard, as she tried to keep reading around the joke she had no idea she'd just made. More like every dam time.

Trust me, I'll be fine. I've got the curse of Achilles now. I'm all invincible and stuff."

Annabeth didn't look convinced.

Percy tried not to feel to hurt. He'd feel the same way if she walked off and left him behind to handle something. He knew they worked better together.

"Just be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. I mean, because we need you for the battle."

"You are strictly used as a weapon only, no other traits applicable," Alex said in a crappy robot voice.

"Yes, creator," Percy almost managed to say with a blank face and monotone voice before they broke out laughing.

I grinned. "Back in a flash."

I clambered down the shoreline and waded into the water.

Just for you non-sea-god types out there, don't go swimming in New York Harbor. It may not be as filthy as it was in my mom's day, but that water will still probably make you grow a third eye or have mutant children when you grow up.

Thalia made a few grumbling complaints about human pollution Percy couldn't blame her for. He didn't have to be attached to some nature god to feel the same. Being immune to the water was probably the only thing that saved him from floating in a pool of muck and trash. It was disgusting, and just kind of sad to see something connected to Pan that was barely visible for what it should be.

I dove into the murk and sank to the bottom. I tried to find the spot where the two rivers' currents seemed equal—where they met to form the bay. I figured that was the best place to get their attention.

"HEY!" I shouted in my best underwater voice. The sound echoed in the darkness. "I heard you guys are so polluted you're embarrassed to show your faces. Is that true?"

"I just heard it live," Jason sighed, making sure the others didn't miss it. "It didn't even cross his mind to say hey, mind having a chat guys? Nope, just straight to the insults!"

Percy mock-cleaned out his ears and looked around. "Sorry sparky, you say something?"

"Don't waste insults you were clearly saving up for Thalia, that's just lazy Percy," Jason rolled his eyes.

"Thank you for answering your own interruption," Percy nodded like nothing had happened as he watched Thalia.

A cold current rippled through the bay, churning up plumes of garbage and silt.

"I heard the East River is more toxic," I continued, "but the Hudson smells worse. Or is it the other way around?"

"Definitely the other way around," Alex added in helpfully as if she had a clue what she was talking about. "In some meanings, Hudson means Son of Hudd, and that just sounds like a gross profession." Percy had already known full well who his second pick would be next time he needed to tick off a god, but it was still nice to have it confirmed in moments like this as he nodded his thanks.

The water shimmered. Something powerful and angry was watching me now. I could sense its presence . . . or maybe two presences.

I was afraid I'd miscalculated with the insults. What if they just blasted me without showing themselves? But these were New York river gods. I figured their instinct would be to get in my face.

"It always fascinates me how Percy knows so perfectly well everything about New York but generally doesn't act anything like I think they would," Will said.

"Don't stereotype my civilians," Percy said in a posh kind of voice like he was ruler of New York. Possibly including the gods? Will knew he was overthinking a goofy joke, but he couldn't help it.

Sure enough, two giant forms appeared in front of me. At first they were just dark brown columns of silt, denser than the water around them. Then they grew legs, arms, and scowling faces.

The creature on the left looked disturbingly like a telkhine. His face was wolfish. His body was vaguely like a seal's—sleek black with flipper hands and feet. His eyes glowed radiation green.

The dude on the right was more humanoid. He was dressed in rags and seaweed, with a chain-mail coat made of bottle caps and old plastic six-pack holders. His face was blotchy with algae, and his beard was overgrown. His deep blue eyes burned with anger.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope," Magnus seemed all geared up and ready to get stuck in that loop again. For some reason Percy pissing off nature gods still seemed to surprise him. Or maybe it was just the description of a homeless person at the bottom of a river. Annabeth would assume the latter.

She spoke in a calm, soothing voice, "I always love the variety of how the gods make themselves appear however they want. It's so, unique, like a reflection of mortals and how we all look different."

"I don't think they'd like that take very much," Magnus looked around at his cousin with an amused smile, breaking him out of his funk at least. "Most of them don't seem to like us much, I can't imagine why," he concluded with a significant look at Percy.

Annabeth just gave him a sad smile he seemed to be lumping himself into 'their' category, as if his life were already doomed.

The seal, who had to be the god of the East River, said, "Are you trying to get yourself killed, kid? Or are you just extra stupid?"

"Actually neither, for once," Thalia chuckled.

Percy looked around at her why she couldn't ever give him something that wasn't a backhanded compliment?

The bearded spirit of the Hudson scoffed. "You're the expert on stupid, East."

"Watch it, Hudson," East growled. "Stay on your side of the island and mind your business."

"Or what? You'll throw another garbage barge at me?"

"Another?" Magnus sighed, already knowing he was alone in that and still wondering anyways how many disasters were blamed on gods just having pissing contests with each other.

They floated toward each other, ready to fight.

"Hold it!" I yelled. "We've got a bigger problem."

"The kid's right," East snarled. "Let's both kill him, then we'll fight each other."

"Have I mentioned how glad I am you just think I'm annoying when I'm right?" Percy sighed. He'd been pretty sure this would be their reaction and was still a little put out they'd decided to kill him over just trying to get their attention.

"You should mention it more," Annabeth said helpfully.

"Sounds good," Hudson said.

Before I could protest, a thousand scraps of garbage surged off the bottom and flew straight at me from both directions: broken glass, rocks, cans, tires.

I was expecting it, though. The water in front of me thickened into a shield. The debris bounced off harmlessly. Only one piece got through—a big chunk of glass that hit my chest and probably should've killed me, but it shattered against my skin.

Annabeth rubbed at her chest and glared at Percy. She didn't care that even without that curse he likely would have been fine, healing before he even came back to the surface. She didn't even care that rationally, it was just a joke as Jason made a very obvious checkmark on an imaginary peace of paper and Percy laughed it off.

She still wanted to strangle him for nearly dying on her. Again.

The two river gods stared at me.

"Son of Poseidon?" East asked.

I nodded.

"Did he think you were down there talking to him with a really good snorkel?" Will snorted.

"I don't think that kind of thing occurs to gods much," Jason shrugged. Man did he feel luckier every day Oceanus seemed to have some sense of who was down here.

"Took a dip in the Styx?" Hudson asked.

"Yep."

They both made disgusted sounds.

"Well, that's perfect," East said. "Now how do we kill him?"

"We could electrocute him," Hudson mused. "If I could just find some jumper cables—"

"Always appreciate cultivating that creative side," Alex chuckled.

"Don't worry, jumper cables were already on the list," Thalia promised Percy their growing list of items to be kept away from Alex in all emergencies was steadily growing in pages.

"Listen to me!" I said. "Kronos's army is invading Manhattan.'"

"Don't you think we know that?" East asked. "I can feel his boats right now. They're almost across."

"Yep," Hudson agreed. "I got some filthy monsters crossing my waters too."

"So stop them," I said. "Drown them. Sink their boats."

"Why should we?" Hudson grumbled. "So they invade Olympus. What do we care?"

Nico still remembered Hera's awful words stinging right underneath his skin. She'd claimed her family was safe. Yet her family didn't seem to give much of a ghosts fart about her. He was sure if he shoved this paragraph up her nose she'd just turn him into a butterfly or something next, but the idea was still pretty tempting to make her hear how her words made others feel.

"Because I can pay you." I took out the sand dollar my father had given me for my birthday.

Magnus opened his mouth, raising one finger with a very confused face.

The river gods' eyes widened.

'Answers that question,' he shrugged and dropped his hand. He wouldn't assume other water godly beings would care much, but he listened curiously for the explanation.

"It's mine!" East said. "Give it here, kid, and I promise none of Kronos's scum are getting across the East River."

"Forget that," Hudson said. "That sand dollar's mine, unless you want me to let all those ships cross the Hudson."

"Is that all friendship costs these days?" Will asked with a tragic face. "One whole sand dollar?"

"And what should the common, going rate be? According to you?" Nico grinned. His dad would hopefully loan him the money this time if he said it wasn't helping that Son of Posideon.

Will contemplated it for a second before deciding, "gosh, at least a whole nickel."

Causing a good laugh around the whole room that was sorely needed.

"We'll compromise." I broke the sand dollar in half. A ripple of clean fresh water spread out from the break, as if all the pollution in the bay were being dissolved.

It wasn't a great explanation, Magnus was still internally grumbling. Posideon was more powerful, obviously, got that, but the implication here was still that he might have the power to fix this and just, wasn't? With a measly dollar of sand at his disposal! Magnus's head still kind of hurt, but he felt like he'd already used up his quota for being 'adorably annoying' for the day and they'd only just had breakfast an hour ago.

"You each get half," I said. "In exchange, you keep all of Kronos's forces away from Manhattan."

"Oh, man," Hudson whimpered, reaching out for the sand dollar. "It's been so long since I was clean."

"The power of Poseidon," East River murmured. "He's a jerk, but he sure knows how to sweep pollution away."

They looked at each other, then spoke as one: "It's a deal."

I gave them each a sand-dollar half, which they held reverently.

"Um, the invaders?" I prompted.

East flicked his hand. "They just got sunk."

Hudson snapped his fingers. "Bunch of hellhounds just took a dive."

"Don't love the implication here he can just, murder sea creatures," Magnus couldn't stop himself making a face and saying anyways.

"Same," Nico tucked his coat tighter around himself. "I'm also back wondering what a council of all the sea gods would look like and there just aren't enough Percy's to even make that go well without a war."

Percy sighed and glared at the ceiling. What on earth had possessed his dad and Oceanus and any god to think that putting a bunch of ADHD kids the task of reading these in any sane length of time would go well was not in his frame of understanding.

"Thank you," I said. "Stay clean."

As I rose toward the surface, East called out, "Hey, kid, any time you got a sand dollar to spend, come on back. Assuming you live."

"Curse of Achilles," Hudson snorted. "They always think that'll save them, don't they?"

"If only he knew," East agreed. They both laughed, dissolving into the water.

Back on the shore,

Thalia couldn't finish that without a little wince though as she glanced at Percy too but chose to keep her thoughts to herself. It disturbed her a bit though, that killing those half-bloods hadn't even been a blip on Percy's mind, that he'd had no hesitation in telling the gods to destroy those vessels and they had without mercy. Percy toeing the line of godhood was not something she'd ever wanted to hear about up close, but this was just one of many decisions that he'd have to shirk off as he waged into the worst.

Annabeth was talking on her cell phone, but she hung up as soon as she saw me. She looked pretty shaken.

"Can't have one decent moment of something just plain good happening," Will lamented as he shifted around in his spot in more agitation than Nico had ever felt from him.

Will hoped that Percy had spent time jumping from bridge to bridge, helping out for pages and other side quests and adventures before he circled back to where Micheal was. He'd know, the entire time in the back of his mind what was waiting anyways, but he'd still like to leave his brother alive even in memory as long as he could get away with.

"It worked," I told her. "The rivers are safe."

"Good," she said. "Because we've got other problems. Michael Yew just called. Another army is marching over the Williamsburg Bridge. The Apollo cabin needs help. And Percy, the monster leading the enemy . . . it's the Minotaur."

"Dun, dun, dun?" Alex snorted in surprise.

"Not a cliffhanger I'd ever expect to get much attention," Thalia chuckled too as she got up to hand the book to Nico.

"You slayed that thing when you had no clue what you were doing," Magnus tried to chuckle in levity. "This will be nothing!"

Nico took the book without even looking at Thalia as Will tensed so tight beside him like a good poke would snap him in half.

[quotidian-oblivion]

Green Leafy Croutons

The title's clickbait, it's just salad and bread. But with a ✨twist✨.

TW: raw chicken, knives, eggs, human blood

I'm gonna try out the recipe i had mentioned in chapter 2 of Break Down. My parents put this rule that me and the oldest sibling after me have to cook lunch and dinner ourselves on the weekends so after much toiling, i remembered that i had a recipe in one of my fics. So I decided to try it out. Except, i'm gonna change up some ingredients cuz they're not available and turn this into a salad with a side of toasted bread rather than a legit sandwich.

Here's the extract from the fic:

He was flashed back to a morning when Alfred was on a vacation and Jason and Tim were alone in the manor with Bruce. Since Bruce couldn’t cook to save his life, it was up to Jason and Tim to make breakfast. Alfred had said that he trusted Jason with his kitchen before he left. Tim hadn’t known what that meant, but he soon found out when Jason set out ingredients and started ordering Tim around on what to do. Within a short while, three halloumi cheese, salad, avocado, salami, and rye bread sandwiches with cream cheese and scrambled eggs were sitting on the table. It was Jason’s own recipe. And it was delicious.

So, Tim grabbed the ingredients from what he could remember and brought them back to Dick’s apartment. Setting them out, he got to work. He cooked the halloumi on the pan, chopped the tomatoes, parsley, and onions, mashed the avocado, cracked the eggs and mixed them with salt and a bit of chili. After the cheese was a light brown color, he set them aside on a plate and warmed the bread on the pan with the heat off. With all the mis en place done, he started assembling the sandwiches.

Dick, somehow, slept through the whole thing. Either he was knocked out, or he was really tired. Tim was slightly relieved that he wasn’t awake though. It meant that he had some more time to ponder things alone with no distractions.

He ate his sandwich and chewed in contempt, recalling the memory of when he made this with Jason.

I'm making this in bulk for like around 6 ppl with various different likes and dislikes btw so keep that in mind. Now let's move on to the mis en place!

Ingredients:

Tomatoes

Onions

Lettuce/parsely

Chicken

Halloumi cheese/Bri cheese

Bread

Avocado

Cream cheese (optional)

Chili

Salt

Pepper

Lemon

Oil

Ginger garlic paste/chopped garlic

That's all I can think of for now. A note on measurements: don't ask me. Heck if i know. As Jason said, "The thing about original recipes is that you measure things with your heart. You have a meeting with your soul then take it to your brain and let your hands do the work." Wise words indeed. I admire the person who came up with them.

On with the cooking!

A note on the chicken: Am I totally winging the cutting the chicken part while having 0% real experience in cutting chicken before? Totally.

Alr i asked my parents and my dad said to cut it into long french fry-like strips cuz that's what salads have and-

Yeah that's totally french fry-like

Anyway, we're done

Oil in pan and heat up ft. my messy stove that hasn't been cleaned for 30172496 years.

Ginger garlic paste. If you dont have that, then chopped garlic.

Salt, chili, black pepper, ginger garlic paste

Put chicken in pan. Careful of oil splashes. That shit be flying.

Now add the stuff i told you before. Some GG paste, some black pepper, some salt, some chili. My desi instincts are telling me to put more chili. Oops.

Now you mix-

Wait.

Hold up.

*narrows eyes* This be looking a little too WHITE. Imma add more chili.

Might add more pepper and salt along with it.

Now you mix again and-

It still be looking a little white but eh. It'll sort itself out later. Hopefully.

Now put a lid on it and put it on low flame and wait till the water evaporates.

Till then, you can clear up the mess you made while in your hurry to get stuff. I need to pray Maghrib. But you can get started on the next step (if indeed you are following along and actually making this with me. If you're here for entertainment, that's cool too, you cna have the leftovers /j)

Alright, I'm back. I checked on the chicken and eyvfrbkead it's still WHITE. It's the water and ik the spices will absorb into the meat eventually, but i couldn't smell it all that strongly... so i added more salt and chili.

If the chicken ends up making my family visit the hospital to get a tongue and throat transplant, then it's not my fault. It's its own fault for not looking like the color of my skin.

Moving on! (Unlike your criminal past- jk jk. I swear it's a joke)

Time for choppy choppy.

I like to use a cerated knife. Don't ask my why. I just do. It's easier for me.

You then dice the tomatoes into small cubes. But i... did not.

Despite my height, i cannot chop tomatoes into short pieces. I cannot cop tomatoes period. Why? Because i don't usually cook.

Alright, i do cook but only occasionally cuz being a high school student and the oldest daughter in an ambitious and studious desi family means that you don't have time for a lot of things and therefor you become a dissapointment.

At least I know how to make biryani ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Time to stir and check on the chicen!

Look... i dont know whether that's good or bad, but i'm just gonna let it be for now.

Now... time for the most dangerous part of the recipe.

Onions.

I've peeled the onion and my eyes are already burning with the pain and sorrow of a million ogres.

Is it just me or is this onion be looking a little fishy?

I just checked the chicken again and a bit of it got stuck at the bottom oopsie. A reminder to stir your chicken, kids. May your chicken be forever stirred.

My chicken's looking like this:

And it's looking rightfully white on the inside (like me) so i'm just gonna switch off the stove and put the lid back on and let it cook on the switched off stove.

Back to onions! *sobs*

I don't need much onion so this will do. Excuse me while i go cool-dry my eyes.

Hmmm... i might need more tomatoes...

Oh well, i'll figure it out later!

Green leafy

You can use parsely too but my mom said that our family doesnt like the taste of parsely so i'm using lettuce instead.

I freaking love green leafy. Look at that lustrous green.

Aaaaaaaaand now you chopchopchopchopchop-

FUCK- I CUT MYSELF

NEED TO GET THE BLOOD AWAY FROM THE GREENSSSS.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK-

Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt that much.

Look at that little poozer.

My dad told me to put my hand up and let it dry before i put a band aid on so i'm gonna have to pause for a while. I'm so glad the chicken was done before this. Take care of yourselves, guys. Don't be me.

Now to reread the chapter while I wait.

My dad put a band aid now! I went around and showed the cut to my whole family. My li'l sisters were like "show me show me!" cuz those gremlins don't like being left out. My mom started scolding me (lightly) about being careful. My dad was the total opposite, telling me to put my hand up, get the band aid, etc. Anyways, back to chopping.

Doneeee! It was a little hard with the band aid on, but i did it! We did it, we did it, we did it. Yay! Lo hicimos. We did it! And good news, the lettuce is cannibal-free.

Fre shavacado.

My mom cut it for me ^_^

Time to serial-kill.

We serial-killed the heck out of that one, guys. Good job. I'm proud of you.

Time to break some humpty-dumpties (humpty-dumptys?)

We're gonna use the same pan (kadai) we used for the chicken because we hate washing dishes.

QUICK! MIX BEFORE YOU MESS IT UP! MIX MIX MIX MIX MIXMIXMIXMIXMIXMIX

I'm gonna have to leave you on a cliffhanger here cuz i'm allowed only 30 images on a post :(

Catch ya in part 2!

Part 2

Break Down ch: 2

[trash-monkey]

selcouth

(adj.) unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet marvelous

I watch as Aunt Sookie gets ready for her late shift at Merlotte's from my seat on her bed purposely letting her distract me from doing the homework I've been forced to bring home from my kindergarten class and do before bed, soon my mind wonders off.

'You heard right my aunt is *the* telepathic Sookie Stackhouse from the Ture Blood tv show which I've been reborn into after my human death of my last life but I'm lucky enough to regain my memories after turning four so it's hasn't been that long since then, my father is the *can't keep my dick in my pants* Jason Stackhouse from a relationship he had in highschool and been dropped off here straight after birth causing Sookie to name me as I didn't have one. I'm now known as Thackeray 'Tack' Stackhouse the eight year old son of Jason although everyone knows that Sookie and Gran are actually the ones rising me.'

"Tack I know what you're doing! Get to work on your homework little man!" Sookie pulls me back into the world right as she finish getting ready.

'And another piece of luck I have is that Sookie can't read my mind no matter how hard she trys all because I have the same power that Renesmee has from Twilight which blocks Sookie out.'

"Tack? You ok?" She questions softly while sitting by me on the bed and ruffle my dirty blond hair when I don't reply with my usual about hating homework.

"I'm ok, I was just thinking on how to get you to let me have a piece of Grans pie and get to watch tv before bed." She makes a expression that she can't believe I have just said that which I give her a amused smile in return.

"Fine as it's Friday but tomorrow you finish homework, promise?" She holds out her pinky which I quickly hook my own around hers with a smile.

"I promise!" I quickly put everything back into my homework folder and into my school backpack before running down stairs with Sookie trailing behind at a more normal speed.

"Gran! Pie please!" I give Gran a goofy smile after appearing in the kitchen which she smiles back as she open the fridge to get me a slice of the pecan pie she made earlier today right as Sookie finally walked into the kitchen. As soon as I'm handed my plate I speed to the living room where I place it on the coffee table before turning on the old box tv to watch old black and white westerns while I eat, Sookie strolls into the living room after talking to Gran.

"You know the rules so follow them" She lays a kiss on top of my head before leaving for work and after making sure that Gran is focused on reading her book at the kitchen table I sneakily pull out a small handbook I had hidden in the living room, the handbook contains what I remember of the tv show and ideas.

'I plan on stopping Godric from meeting the sun as he can change a lot of things in the future of both humans and vampires, I don't know how yet which it's either telling him death isn't salvation or show him my memories of the supposedly future if the events go as they should which I'll somehow get Jason take me with him to the camp so I can sneak into the basement where Godric will be hold in and hopefully stay there until Sookie comes or give him the book I had found that has a similar to his own which I put the letter I had wrote in it, although Godric did cruel things after being turned which I don't really blame him for doing so as he was taken from his home and not only enslaved by the Romans he was only shown cruelty. He probably thought for such cruelty to himself and others humanity should be punished so he became Death until lately he realizes cruelty will only cause more cruelty and trying his hardest to do better while feeling empty'

I'm taken out of my thoughts by a car pulling up in front of the house which I quickly turn to the clock to see it's way past my bedtime and that it's Sookie coming home from work.

"Shit" I whispered to myself as I quickly put my small notebook back into its hiding place before running up the stairs to my room to put on my PJs and with an ear against the wooden floor as my bedroom sits above the kitchen which I eavesdrop on their conversation from time to time unknowing until now that Gran had retreated to her bedroom some time ago, with silence I carefully made my way to a wall that's close to Gran's room to press a ear against it.

"Tack in bed?" Sook ask Gran as she sits on the bed and pet Gran's cat Tina, I smiled when Gran covers for me knowing I stayed up after my bedtime and soon I hear Sook tell Gran about how Merlotte's got it's first vampire customer which I quickly got into bed after.

'it's finally starting after four years of waiting'

I thought as I close my eyes hope for sleep but with my mind stuck on what's to come sleep escapes from me, after a while just laying and staring at the ceiling Sook sneaks in thinking I'm a sleep so she surprise when seeing me awake.

"What you doing awake?" Sook has her night gown on which slightly flutters as she come over to my bed and take a seat at the edge it, she run fingers through my hair.

"Can't sleep" I simply answer as I turn my body on my side so I'm facing Sook before she smiles at me.

"I know what can do the trick." She going to my large book shelf as I have a addiction to collecting books and pulled out my old story book before sitting against the headboard of my bed with me snuggled up in her side but half away through I asked a question.

"Aunt Sook, can a Villain ever change into a Hero?" I wonder about her response to the question for a while now.

"I believe so if they try hard enough no matter what others say."

"What if he's done something so bad that he believes death is the only way to right what he has done wrong?" Sook frown her eyes together at my odd question.

"Why you asking?" I can hear the worry in her voice.

"I saw a movie earlier about it." I lied through my teeth but hoping she'll still answer my question and seeing me waiting she does with a sigh as she close the book.

"Death is not always the answer to many solutions, when he had come to his senses about what he had done and believes he should repay the cruelty he had showed I think he shouldn't take the easy way out. Instead try his best to help and show others the right path as many doesn't have others to show them."

"What if he had killed many people and thinks that to save others is to end his life?"

"Then he's being a child throwing a fit, his death will do nothing then make the ones that love him sad even if he has done many things wrong, he deserves to live just like you and me. Just remember he's been rised differently then you and his past has might had caused him to do bad things." I nod in agreement at her statement.

"Now, enough of that as you need sleep." She tucks me in bed.

"Can I come to Merlotte's with you tomorrow?"

"You missing Lafayette cooking, don't you?" She smiled when I nod and said that I can go with her to work tomorrow, she lays a kiss on my forehead before leaving but keep a crack in the door and after had I finally been able to fall asleep.

_______________________________________________

[airasilver]

'Heart of Glass, Mind of Stone' by LylaRivers:

Here's the link to the first story and then go from there. You won't regret it.

I love this so i wrote a lot.

Under the read more because I know it's long.

It's so long and while I know most wouldn't have minded, hopefully, the replies following each other I didn't know how much AO3 would letr do. I think they are all in order but I had them in notes until I put them here so I'm not promising.

I love the way Tim just follows them and then decided to talk to Jason.

Tim doesn't even know how much he saved Jason and the family in general just by doing so. I'm so happy he met his brother and dad, even if he's scared, because yes, it got them looking for him and hopefully it'll bring him home faster.

^ Tim just wishes there wasn’t a massive secret hanging over their heads. He wants to tell the older boy that he knows about Robin- that Jason is a hero, that Tim has admired him from afar for years. 

He can’t, though. He doesn’t want Batman to try to put a stop to his nightly outings for good. Moreover, he doesn’t know what exactly Batman will do to him for figuring out the secret. ^

Jason will be flustered and then happy to know he's one of your favorite heroes. Take you into the family. That's what Bruce will do.

^ Ooops. Tim did not mean to reveal that. “They’re on a business trip. They’ll be back in a few days.” 

It’s one of the first true lies he’s told Jason. The lie sits heavy in his stomach, curdling the joy of being invited over to simply hang out.^

Tim, baby, you are going to need a lot of hugs and love. I'm prescribing your oldest brother's hugs. The others will help hug you but not as much as Dick. Love, you'll get from everyone. You're also going to find that it'll be coming back to bite you.

^ “I’ll let our housekeeper Ms. Mac know, since she watches me when my parents are out of town, but she should be fine with it,” Tim says. Another lie, this one tinged with truth, but still factually incorrect. Ms. Mac watches the house. He just happens to be in the house some of the time. ^

Yeah, you're good at this but I hope it'll clear up soon.

^ “Dick?” Tim asks. He’s pretty sure Jason is referring to Richard Grayson, the first Robin, but he probably shouldn’t know that.

“Yeah, my older brother. I cannot believe that any sane human would decide to use the nickname Dick for Richard. Like, seriously? There’s about a million jokes just built in, and you can’t counteract any of them, ‘cause you chose to call yourself after a literal penis. Rich and Rick were right there ,” Jason grouses. 

“Richard seems kind of formal,” Tim says. “I know that I hate being called Timothy. It’s what my parents call me when I’m in trouble.”

“Oh, the power of the full name,” Jason agrees wisely. “I have never seen someone drop out of the air so quickly as when B pulls out the ‘Richard John Grayson Wayne’ when Dick is about to break something by flipping on top of it.”

“What’s it like to have a brother?” Tim asks. 

“It’s mostly like being an only child, since Dick is older and we didn’t grow up together,” Jason explains. “B actually adopted me after Dick moved out. He comes by on weekends and we go out for ice cream or to the movies or whatever. He has an absolutely endless supply of terrible nicknames, which I suppose I should have expected, since he literally goes by Dick .” ^

I can't not think of him as anything but Dick. Rick, just makes me shudder and Rich would do the same. Just wait...you'll be getting full named soon if you haven't already, Jason.

^ Nightwing is the whole reason Tim was able to figure out the identity of all of the Bats. ^

I love how every story that brings Tim in differently has something like this in it.

^ “It’s one of my earliest memories. I have a picture somewhere, of us. Me, and my parents, and the Flying Graysons.” 

Jason bites his lip. “Dick doesn’t have many pictures of his parents. I don’t think they really had time to take family photos in the circus. Certainly they didn’t have a place to keep many photos.” 

“Do… do you think Dick would like to see it?”

“Probably. Like I said, I don’t think he was able to keep much from the circus."^

This makes me smile because Tim gives Dick back his parents in a way. With technology they should be able to do the picture of the three of the them...though I don't know how they take Tim out if Dick was holding him.

I love how Jason just casually mentions kidnapping his baby brother. Who’s freaking a bit because he did.

^ But Tim knows better than anyone how anything can be armor to shield a completely different personality with enough practice. His parents wear politeness and impeccable manners as a shield for the multitude of problems at home. Brucie Wayne is a shield for Batman- and possibly for the true Bruce Wayne, as well. 

What is Dick’s sparkling exterior a shield for? 

Tim is stabbed by a sudden shot of fear. “I don’t know where the picture is,” he whispers. 

Jason turns around in the front seat. “Don’t worry about it, Tim.” He might as well have told Tim not to breathe. But he also doesn’t have time to give in to the worry, because Alfred pulls into the driveway at Wayne Manor. ^

His anger. When he lets it out. Don’t worry Tim, you’ll be able to give it to Dick, let him see it later on.

Tim, you'll be lucky to leave Dick's arms...I'm exaggerating but nope, you won't be able to sneak around.

^ Tim crawls out of the car seat, carrying both backpacks. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Tim Drake. It’s nice to meet you.” Again. ^

Okay but this is making me think of Tim in a literal car seat.

^ Dick gasps, and covers Tim’s ears dramatically. “Jay, how could you use such language?” 

Tim ducks away. The skin on his ears feels warm and tingly where Dick’s hands were. “I’ve heard worse,” Tim says.^

Get used to it Tim, you’re the baby brother and you’ll be having this done a lot.

^ Tim doesn’t like missing information. Knowledge is power, and Tim needs more of it. ^

We sure Tim is Jack’s son? Because this is totally Bruce.

^ “I’m hurt! I’m wounded! My only brother, declaring me an asshole? What did I ever do to deserve this?” Dick asks, pressing a hand to his forehead.^

For now Dick, for now he’s tor only brother.

^ He can’t remember the last time he had a homemade cookie. If ever.^

You’ll soon have as many as you want Tim….hopefully soon.

^ “Yeah,” Tim lies. Being a bother is a much easier excuse than ‘I’m afraid you’re going to lock me up forever for knowing your secret’.

“Allow me to dispute this, Master Tim. You have been remarkably helpful with Master Jason’s infirmity, and with minimal prior friendship as reason for the help. You are one of the first friends that Master Jason has been motivated to bring home, infirmity or no. You are, in fact, the exact opposite of a bother.”^

Alfred would know. He knows everything.

^ “Bold of you to assume we’re capable of acting normally,” Dick says brightly. He launches himself into a front handspring, and leaps at Bruce. Bruce catches him, and backs away from the table.^

Bruce will always catch his kids if he's near them and they leap at him. Always.

^ “Could be worse,” Dick offers. Jason raises his eyebrows. “You could be dead,” Dick says. 

No one laughs.^

Dick, baby boy....if only you knew. Thank the Lord that you don't in this 'verse.

^ Tim wants to soak this warmth up like a sponge. He wants to recall every single moment of this joy, and bottle it up like one of his mom’s expensive perfumes. 

Is this what having a family feels like?^

It is baby boy. It is.

^ The conversation moves to other topics, and Tim can let his mind run wild. He has one shot to get this right. He needs to come clean, without making it weird. 

It’s going to be weird. He has to have an escape plan, too. They won’t want him to stay over if he tells them the truth, will they?

Will they?^

They'll want you Tim. You'll see.

^ Dick meets his eyes. For a moment, Tim wants to berate himself for bringing up his own memory, but Dick’s eyes are shining with gratitude. “I don’t have many photos of us, all together. Thank you,” he whispers. “Can I give you a hug, Tim?” 

Tim drops his backpack, and lets Dick wrap his arms around him. “I didn’t want to bring up bad memories. But you should have a copy of it,” Tim whispers. 

Dick squeezes his arms tightly. “I’d much rather have it, and be reminded, than not have anything at all. Thank you.”^

This made me cry and smile at the same time.

^ “Oh no, Dick got you into his tentacle-like clutches,” Jason says as they enter the den. “Tim, I hope you know that I’m not saving you. Every person gets to fend for themselves against Dick’s death hugs of doom.” 

“I don’t mind,” Tim says. 

“Jason,” Dick warns. 

“What?” 

“Why don’t you tell Tim about your experience with touch starvation, since he seems to think it’s normal.” Dick says as he drags Tim to a seat on the couch, not once letting go of him.

“My parents touch me,” Tim says, not even sure why he’s trying to defend them. “I mean… not like that. You know what I mean. They’re just not big cuddlers, that’s all.”

“Tim, you looked like you were about ready to cry when I hugged you. That’s not normal,” Dick says quietly.^

Tim is gonna gets lots of touch from his brothers, dad, and grandfather. He needs it. It'll also make it a bit easier to understand why he could follow them alot.... hopefully. (I want a Nightwing hug now.)

^ Jason casts a critical eye over the fort. “I dunno if there’s enough room for three in here, and you’re always complaining about how your back hurts when you sleep on it wrong…” he says. He grins when Dick pushes his lower lip out further, and furrows his brow. “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with Tim,” Jason says. 

Dick turns pleading eyes on Tim. 

“I’d like it if you stay,” Tim admits, sitting at the entrance to the fort. “I don’t want to keep you from patrol too long, though,” he adds absently. Then he freezes, realizing what he said.^

I don't know why this has me laughing but it does. Probably because of how Tim just blurts it out.

^ Screw it. He was planning to tell the Bats he knew tonight anyways. “Patrol. Because you’re Nightwing,” Tim says confidently. 

Dick raises his eyebrows. “What makes you think that?”

“Quadruple somersault,” Tim explains succinctly.^

Yep, Dick's fault. I love you Dick but this is totally your fault.

^ Bruce rubs his temples. “Dick, what did I tell you, over and over again, about style points?” 

“I’m a reckless showoff who’s going to endanger all of our identities, and style points don’t actually count for anything anyways?” Dick asks. 

Bruce splays both hands out in front of him, eyebrows raised. “And here we are,” he says. “I’m very impressed. Wraith . How long have you been sneaking out at night to follow us?” 

Tim grimaces. “A while?” 

“Define ‘a while’,” Bruce says, crossing his arms. 

“More than one year,” Tim hedges.

“Give me a more exact number.”

“Like… four years?” 

Tim can see the exact moment this settles with all three vigilantes, as they do the math. “You were running around the streets of Gotham at nine ?” Dick asks.^

Tell him Bruce! Why are you shocked Dick? You were his age when you started.

^ “So were you!” Tim retorts.

“Boys.” Bruce interrupts.^

Total exasperated dad here.

Love how Bruce started looking into Tim before this. They might have had an idea it was him but didn't know for sure.

^ “Jason, what was the ratio of actual business meetings to nonessential archeological digs?” Bruce asks, looking over at his younger son. 

“Like six to one in favor of archeological digs, in terms of actual trips,” Jason says. “In terms of time spent, the ratio was way higher. I don’t remember the exact number there, but I ran the report.”

Tim pales. He’s pretty sure the bottom has completely disappeared from his stomach. That’s… a lot of time. His parents always made it seem like their traveling was for business, and the archeological digs were a brief vacation in between business meetings.^

Ouch. That has to hurt. It hurts me just reading this.

^ “Drake Industries is primarily an American company, with few international contracts or interests,” Bruce explains. “Those few overseas holdings are primarily in Europe. As far as I can tell from the travel receipts and dig permits, any travel in Asia, Africa, or South America was archaeologically based.” 

That’s a lot . His parents have spent a lot of time in both the Middle East and South America- neither of which, apparently, have any Drake Industries assets at all. Tim can feel his eyes well up with tears. This is… he had no idea. Years and years of ‘we can’t possibly let the company down’, and ‘do you want to be the reason hundreds of people can’t feed their families, Timothy’, as excuses to leave with as little fanfare as possible- and that’s all they were. Excuses. Blatant, horrible lies with minimal grounding in reality. ^

Now I hope Bruce gets custody soon. Tim needs the family and probably therapy....if that'll work for him.

^ “I would like you to stay over, indefinitely, while your parents are out of town,” Bruce says.

“You can’t call CPS,” Tim says, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy, and breaking away from Dick’s loose hold. “You can’t . I won’t go into foster care. I’ll disappear.  I’ll… prove to the world that you’re actually Batman.”

“I’d prefer to talk to your parents, first, before any more drastic measures,” Bruce says. “That being said, it’s not safe for you to be living alone, particularly when we are more than willing to take you in, right next door.”

“You barely know me,” Tim counters. 

Bruce meets his gaze steadily. “I know enough,” he says calmly. “More than that, though, I will not willingly leave any child in a dangerous situation, particularly when there is a perfectly reasonable solution at hand.”

“That’s… that’s fine, then,” Tim says. Immediate danger dealt with, he lets himself collapse into Dick again. Tim pushes his head into the hollow underneath Dick’s shoulder, hiding his face so nobody can talk to him. He’s quite done with upsetting revelations for the night. ^

I know it's hard Tim but it'll get better in time. It'll take time but it will.

Thank God they were there for this panic attack but now I'm sad that Tim probably had others no one was there for and he didn't know what was going on. Sometimes you don't remember if you had any. Especially of they weren't as severe.

^ “Alright,” Bruce says. “You said that you don’t remember this ever happening before, right?” 

“Nope. Zero out of five stars, though. Would not recommend or repeat the experience. I’m exhausted.”

“I’m not surprised. Panic attacks use up a lot of energy,” Bruce says. 

“Can confirm,” Jason adds. He slides from where he was perching on the side of the couch to fully sit on the cushion. Tim never noticed him moving closer to them. “Panic attacks suck major ass. And yes, Alfie, this is a moment of distress, so I’m claiming exemption from the swear jar.” 

“Entirely fair, Master Jason.” 

“You…?” Tim starts to ask, but he can’t quite finish the sentence.

“Number one, living  alone on the street tends to leave some scars. Also, I’ve had a few traumatic experiences since then and now.”^

As I wondered above, Tim might have had some but can't remember or maybe he just slept then. At least Jason is helping even if it's to finally help Tim's curiosity in figuring out what happened.

^ Hopefully, he’ll finally get his suspicions confirmed. 

“Yeah,” Jason agrees. “But given that you've already had a panic attack this evening, how ‘bout we not talk about that tonight. ‘Cause it ain’t a pretty conversation.” 

“ I’m going to hold you to that,” Tim says.

“If you stay here, you’ll have plenty of time to hold me to that,” Jason agrees.^

Good reason Jason and good way of getting Tim to stay even though he's already agreed. Can't hurt to makes sure he is staying for sure.

^ “I’d rather stay down here,” Tim says. “We already got all these blankets out and built the fort. Also, where did this blanket come from?” He gestures to the weighted blanket around his torso and legs. 

“It’s one of the spare weighted blankets,” Dick explains. “The first time I used one, I fell asleep in like fifteen minutes, instead of lying awake for hours. After that, Bruce decided we needed about six more.”

“You can keep using that one if you like it,” Bruce says. 

“It’s nice,” Tim says. “Never heard of it before. But I like it a lot.” ^

I've tried a weighted blanket before and it didn't work for me. I'm glad it did for Tim. I just pile on blankets and then kick them off. (Probably why the weighted blanket didn't work.)

^ Bruce stops to hug both Dick and Jason. To Tim’s surprise, he stops to study Tim for a moment, then slowly and carefully leans in to hug Tim, too, before leaving the den, closing the door gently behind him.

“Do you need to go be Nightwing?” asks Tim from his cocoon. He doesn’t want to give up the comforting warmth of Dick holding him, but he knows that Nightwing has more important things to do than coddle one overemotional teenager.

“Nah, I’m the responsible adult for the night. Alfred’s running comms in the cave for B, so someone’s gotta be up here to make sure you don’t burn the house down,” Dick says. “I should probably change out of my jeans, though.” ^

Tim, you are more important right now. Besides Dick loves to cuddle, especially if it's his family.

^“Look, rich people compare the size of their stock portfolios the way normal people compare the size of their dicks.”^

Thank you for this image. Never seeing stocks any other way now.

^ “From what B said, it could have been so much worse,” Dick says. “You managed to take on the Joker, alone.”

“If B had gotten there even five minutes later, I probably would have died,” Jason says.

“The Joker?” Tim asks. “You said something about your bio mom and a car accident- clearly it wasn’t a car. But was your mom involved?”

“Oh, yeah. She did actually kidnap me, and tried to hand me over to the Joker to pay off her drug debts, to make a very long story short,” Jason says, voice forcedly light. “It sucked. Zero out of five stars.”^

Damn. He really is lucky.

^ “You’re so mean to me, Little Wing. You’re killing me- your first, oldest brother. I’m dying, and it’s all your fault.”

Jason rolls his eyes as they walk into the kitchen. “Dick, I’m your only brother.”

“B has an adoption problem. I’m sure it won’t be long until I’m not your only brother.”

“Hm. Pretty sure two adopted children isn’t actually classified as a problem.”

“He impulse nabbed me after my parents fell to their deaths during a show with him in the audience. He impulse nabbed you after you stole the literal tires off of the literal Batmobile,” Dick lists off. “With a track record like that, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until B sees another sad orphan or needy child that he’s just desperate to swoop in and save.”^

Your new brother is walking with you both right now. Giving Tim a hint, Dick? It seems like it.

^ The rest of breakfast passes in a blur. Tim has never had a breakfast quite like this one- fresh baked goods, company, light conversation, and delicious coffee that he didn’t make himself. It feels totally different, basking in the warmth of the kitchen against the chill outside. Bruce seems genuinely interested in what his children have to say, once he’s drunk enough coffee to wake up. 

Tim could get used to this. ^

Get used to it Tim. Once Bruce has custody, you will enjoy this for the rest of your life.

^ This is it. This is the ‘it’s been lovely, but you’re far too much trouble, and we’re going to lock you up forever to keep you from telling anyone our secret identity’. Or maybe they have some gadget that can wipe his memory. 

Tim forces himself to look at Bruce, despite the fear. Bruce rests both hands palm up on his lap. “I want you to feel safe here,” Bruce says. “That includes feeling like you can voice your opinions, and state your preferences. If you don’t enjoy a particular food, you don’t have to eat it. If you don’t like an activity, within reason, we will try to minimize the time you spend doing it. Obviously, homework and household chores need to be completed, but any optional activities are just that- optional. If you are interested in something, we will do our best to accommodate that interest. Do you understand me?”

It sounds too good to be true. Tim can barely believe what he’s hearing. 

But, Bruce’s words logically line up with his actions over the past two weeks, the few times he has interacted with the man behind the mask. In private, Bruce has been nothing but a loving, attentive father, who just so happens to go out in a leather and kevlar suit to fight crime at night. 

Tim wants to believe. ^

When Brucw says something he usually means it. He means this so believe Tim.

^ “I know, but it’s a big house,” Bruce says. “It’s okay to have boundaries- both on your time, your space, and your interactions. If you’re not ready to interact with them, they can wait to come back into the room, or you can go into a different room."^

Bruce is so patient with Tim. Dick and Jason really helped him out that way.

Tim is confused but he is going to learn and get help and love from his family.

^ On the one hand… doing something with Dick Grayson , the original Robin. On the other hand… he still doesn’t know the rules here. He can’t just change the schedule… can he? 

“Come on,” Dick says. “B converted one of the smaller ballrooms into a gymnast's heaven, cause he’s an extra Dad like that.”

“It was better than cleaning up broken glass from the chandeliers that you shattered in the first few months of living with me,” Bruce mutters. 

“What was that, Bruce?” Dick asks, smiling with all his teeth. 

“I mean I love you so very much, my wonderful eldest child,” Bruce says louder. Then he turns and winks at Tim. “Alfred and I cleaned up a lot of glass that first year. And cuts from glass. The gym was absolutely worth all the effort and expense for decreasing my gray hairs.” ^

Go have fun with your brother Tim. You love him Bruce. Also, how many ballrooms do you have? It's got to get more than three if you converted one into a gym for Dick and now Jason and Tim to use. (That way they don't always need to go down to the cave to get a workout done.)

^ Every so often, as they work, Tim has to stop and mentally pinch himself. Dick Grayson, the last of the Flying Graysons, the first Robin, is teaching him how to tumble. 

It’s a dream come true. It’s something he didn’t even know he could dream about, even. What are the odds that Dick Grayson would just teach some random kid gymnastics.

“Actually, the odds are pretty good,” Dick says with a laugh when Tim makes the mistake of saying it out loud. “I actually teach acrobatics at a gym in Bludhaven, so I do work with a lot of kids. If you’re in a position to know about Robin and Nightwing, the odds aren't actually that bad.”

 “It’s just a little surreal,” Tim says. 

Dick ruffles his hair. “Welcome to the Batclan, kid.”^

I love this part. Dick is so patient and just treating Tom not as one of his kids at work but family. The end of the chapter helps prove that. The boys are going to have a great relationship.

^ Tim darts across the hall to his parents’ room. This room too is lifeless- cold, sterile, impersonal sheets. No decorations or photographs along the walls. The only indication that someone lives here is the ornamented wedding ketubah between Janet and Jack Drake hanging over the bed. ^

I wonder....is Tim being Jewish canon or is it fanon? Because Bruce also seems to be Jewish in alot of stories. Dick, I think is nonreligious and Jason is Catholic. At least in a lot of fanfics I read, Jason is the only one in canon that I know of that was given an actual religion and that was an AU. (Okay, I just finished 'Robins Being Robin' and Bruce, according to Dick isn't religious. So I'm guessing it's headcanon/fanon for at least Bruce being Jewish.)

^ “It was that or be caught,” Tim says shortly. “I had some close calls that first year.”

“How close?” Bruce asks. 

“I wasn’t always as good at hiding as I am now. There were a few close calls, I think ‘cause of light reflecting off my camera lens or something. But I’ve always been pretty quick on my feet, so when I saw someone coming my way, I scampered, and no one ever caught me. No one expects to see a kid out that late.”

Bruce slowly exhales. “Tim, the reason no one expects to see a kid out that late is because it’s dangerous.” 

“Jason and Dick both did it,” Tim defends himself.

“That’s true,” Bruce acknowledges. “But, Jason and Dick also both had immediate adult supervision, both while out in Gotham and afterwards, in case they were injured. I didn’t let Dick patrol alone until he was sixteen. Jason has never been on patrol alone. I’m very impressed with what you’ve accomplished, but I also want to impress on you just how dangerous it was. You had no direct supervision, and no one at home if anything went wrong. It sounds like you were extremely lucky that first year.”^

Bruce is already becoming Tim's parent. Tim is defensive though because he is used to his life and not really getting I trouble...at least for leaving the house.

^ “Except for attention, support, and adult supervision,” Bruce says immediately. “Tim, children cannot and should not be left on their own. From a purely scientific standpoint, your brain isn’t developed enough to take care of all of your needs. Recent scientific research actually suggests that the brain isn’t fully developed until age twenty five, particularly the areas surrounding executive function and impulse management. From a more emotional standpoint, children need constant love and affection to grow into healthy adults.”

“I’m not a child,” Tim protests. “I’m a legal Jewish adult.”

“Which only became true this year, and has no bearing on your status under common law. And besides, teenagers also need consistency and comfort,” Bruce says immediately. “If you were left alone for only a few hours at a time, with regular adult supervision, we would be having a different conversation. But being left alone with minimal supervision is a serious detriment to your health and well being- not to mention exceedingly dangerous. 

“From a purely practical standpoint, you are simply not old enough to take care of many of your needs. As Dick pointed out last night, you can’t drive. While you’ve clearly done an excellent job adapting with the city bus and your bike, it’s still dangerous, here, more than anywhere else. This is Gotham . Surely I don’t need to tell you about the dangers of our various villains and the prevalence of organized crime in this city.”^

Okay, I will be shocked if Tim isn't Bruce's kid by blood. (I know, I know) He's to much like his dad and they haven't even really been a family yet.

^ “My life just got turned upside down, and it’s only gonna get worse when you call CPS on my parents and I get dumped into the foster care system,” Tim says, just as bluntly. “No one wants me. Ms. Mac seemed thrilled to not have to take care of me. Clearly my parents don’t want me that much, either. Bruce is only doing this cause he feels bad.”

“Maybe Ms. Mac is thrilled, as you say, because she was worried about you being alone,” Jason says. “I know I can’t really speak to the actions of your parents, besides being horrified at you being alone. However, I can safely say that Bruce doesn’t ‘just do’ anything. Some people dress up in a leather fur suit and fight crime to cope, and some people impulsively adopt sad children to cope. Bruce just so happens to do both, because he’s richer than G-d and can afford a crazy hobby and to support a bunch of traumatized children who also are filled with rage and want to fight crime.”^

Jason is such a good brother.

^ “Eh, we figured out pretty quickly you weren’t a threat,” Jason says. He leans over to ruffle Tim’s hair, and Tim lets himself relax. “How did you know to seek me out, anyways?”

“This is gonna sound stupid,” Tim mutters.

“Can I come sit next to you?” Jason asks. Tim nods wordlessly.

Jason shoves himself to his feet gracelessly, and sits next to Tim on the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t complaining,” Jason says quietly. “If B hadn’t been there, totally in the loop like he was, I woulda died. Full stop. If he had been even a few minutes later than he was to rescue me, or if he hadn’t even known I was gone, the Joker would have blown me to smithereens. Your warning saved my life. If you saw something on the street, or knew something was going to happen…”

“It was nothing so certain,” Tim scoffs. “It was just a feeling I had. I started Bat Watching at the end of Dick’s time as Robin, and there was this… distance between the two of them. In those days, I wasn’t good enough to get real close to Batman and Robin, but I overheard plenty of arguments.

“You had that same distance that developed really quickly, between you and Batman. But you’re a lot younger than Dick was, so it’s not like you could really strike out as your own hero as you are. I just…” Tim trails off. He still can’t quite put his finger on why he was so compelled to intervene.

Jason lets Tim pause and gather his thoughts.

"Okay, there was one other thing, but it's going to sound really stupid.".

“I dress up in traffic light colors and fight crime every night. Try me.”

“I had a dream something was going to happen,” Tim says quietly.  He feels stupid even uttering the words out loud. 

“Weirder shit has happened,” Jason says. “Have you had any other dreams that have come true? Or have you had any dreams you’ve acted on and changed an outcome?”

“Dunno.”

“Might be a latent meta gene,” Jason muses. “Or who knows- the multiverse is a strange place, and sometimes events from one timeline bleed over into another. It doesn’t really matter, one way or another. I’m just glad this timeline didn’t get fucked to hell and back, for whatever reason.”^

I just adore this part for some reason. Probably because I know canon and the way you wrote this part is so good.

^Did you, really?” Jason counters. “Tim, I know you’re not thrilled about having your life turned upside down, but the way you were living wasn’t healthy- and I say that on good authority, given that I lived on the streets for a few years. Dickie will expound on this until your ears fall off, but humans are pack animals. We’re not meant to be alone, especially as kids. People need other people.”

“My parents say that needing people makes you weak, and people will always disappoint you.” Their statement has certainly been true enough in regards to his parents. Tim honestly can’t say he’s had enough experience with other people to make a judgment call of his own, though.

His stomach lurches uncomfortably. His parents could have told him anything, and he would have believed it. Was this just one more way they lied to him, so he’d let them leave easier?

“I’m just gonna come out and say it, Timbit, your parents sound like shit,” Jason says bluntly. He wraps his good arm around Tim tightly, pulling Tim almost entirely on to his chest.

“I have a home to live in, and food to eat, and…” Tim starts to say, not totally sure why he’s defending his parents. It’s not like they ever defended him.

“And no one there to help you,” Jason cuts in smoothly. “Yeah, I’ll agree your circumstances ain’t exactly dire, compared to living on the street. But also, abuse comes in a lot of forms- not just physical. There’s emotional abuse, as well as neglect. Just because they never hit you or starved you or whatever doesn’t actually make them good parents, Tim.”^

I think Jason will get through to his little brother a lot better than Bruce. He's closer in age and had delt with a lot of things like Tim has.

^ Jason ruffles his hair. “I know, baby bird. But we want to convince you that what’s happening to you is wrong. Bruce wants to help fix it, but we can’t do much if you don’t let us.”

“Baby bird?”

“Do ya like it? Dick is fond of bird themed nicknames, for somewhat obvious reasons, knowing our little secret. If I’m Little Wing, and he’s Big Bird, that makes you Baby Bird.”

“It’s a lot better than anything else you’ve come up with,” Tim says, managing to sound grumpy despite the warm glow the nickname brings. The nickname, more than anything else that has happened in the last twenty four hours, convinces him that whatever is going on here is genuine.

“I mean, I’m not likely to abandon all the Tim themed nicknames in a hurry,” Jason warns. “It makes you puff up like a lil Robin yourself, and you get all indignant about it, which is totally satisfying, and I fully understand why Dickie likes doing it to me.” ^

I love how the baby bird nickname is brought in here.

^ “Bruce has a terrible adoption problem. I’m sure you’ll get to experience the joy for yourself.”

“You and Dick keep talking about Bruce’s adoption problem. What does that have to do with me?” Tim asks.

“Is it not obvious?”

“No.”

Jason pulls his head back, so that he can look at Tim fully. “Tim, I’m pretty sure the next victim of Bruce’s adoption problem is going to be you.” ^

Truth. Tim won't believe it but it's true.

The way Jason explains mental illness and the way Tim listens and breaks and then just packages it away....hurts. Baby boy needs help and he'll get it. It'll be slow but he'll get the help he needs. Slow, because Tim needs to learn how his parents are abusing him.

^ It takes barely one week to settle into a rhythm. It almost seems as if he’s lived here his whole life. ^

This sums up exactly what I'm thinking as I read this story. Tim, has become such a part of the family, it seems as if he was always there.

^ Tim presses his fingers against the glass surrounding what looks like the very first Robin suit. “This looks thinner than your suit.”

“I’m trying not to think about how you’ve gotten close enough to me as Robin multiple times to know that,” Jason says dryly. “But yeah, back in the early days, Dick mostly wore spandex. Or something similar, I think. After a few close calls, B finally convinced him to add some armor. It helped that Wayne Enterprises was testing out a super light armor weave at the time. Dick doesn’t like to be weighed down.”

Jason leads them through a wall of suits. “Here, of course, is my favorite suit- the Discowing. I have no idea why Dick thought fighting crime with his chest on full display was a good idea, but damn is it fun to tease him about it.”

“There’s not very many Nightwing suits here,” Tim observes.

“Yeah, Dick keeps his suits in Bludhaven for the most part. He only deigns to let Bruce display the really old outdated suits. Hence, Discowing.”

“He pulled it off.”

Jason gives him a sharp look. “He absolutely did not and never, ever, say that to his face. Come on. Let me show you the trophy room.”^

I love Dick but come on Tim. Dick doesn't have the best sense in fashion or keeping himself safe with his suits. At least he has family to help give him some armor....even if it's not as much as they want him to have. (Maybe he has more now in canon.)

^ “The penny and the T-Rex were before my time, so no idea how B got them into the cave,” Jason says. “I can tell you the story behind some of the other trophies, though. Dick tells the penny story best.”^

I actually want to know how Bruce built all of the cave without it being big news. Especially when he started bringing in some trophies, like the Penny and the T-Rex. Do any of the comics say, tell how he does it?

^ “Can we look at something else?” Tim asks quietly. The love that the Batfamily has for each other permeates the walls. Tim can’t even imagine his parents doing the same for him.^

Just wait Tim. You'll soon have your own place on the walls and will realize how much they love you.

^ “‘Kay, so you know how Dick was ten when he started out? Yeah, he thought it was hilarious, and B’s too much of a softie to try to change any of the names now.”

Tim giggles. He’s unlocking so much new Batman lore- he’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to Bat Heaven. “That’s amazing .” He walks back towards where Jason is sitting. ^

Considering the comics I just read had everything the same, just whatever their viligante name was, it seems as if it will follow every Bat.

^ Tim loses himself in looking at crimes across the city with Jason. He offers Robin several insights that the older boy praises as helpful. With every compliment, Tim glows with internal warmth. He’s helping to make a difference. His insights are valuable . It’s been a rare feeling in his life, and Tim chases it with the same intensity he might seek water in the desert.

He had no idea how starving he'd been, until he’d been fed. ^

I love this so much. Jason's just giving Tim compliments, like he should have had, and Tim is slowly realizing that he's never really been given any so when he gets some? He's hoaedinf them close.

^ Tim nods seriously. He may never have seen Alfred upset, but he can easily picture the kind of chaos the older man could wreak if he were so inclined.^

Alfred runs the family. Bruce might be the head of it but Alfred runs it. There's a reason why people are afraid of him.

^ “Well, as civilians Dick and Barbara Gordon were always hanging out and flirting, and Robin and Batgirl had the exact same flirtatious vibes, sooo…”

Dick slams his head on the table theatrically. “Am I your explanation for everything?”

“If Timmy could figure out this much about you just by watching, imagine what he’ll be able to solve as Robin,” Jason says.

Tim turns to stare at Jason. “What?”

“Oh, sorry, was that not the foregone conclusion when I graduate, eventually?”

“But… you’re Robin.”

“So was I, incidentally,” Dick says. “It’s not a gig that lasts forever.” He glares at Bruce. “Not that that was my intention at the start, though.”^

Yes, Dick. You are the answer to Tim figuring everything out. You always will be.

^ “Robin was my mom’s nickname for me,” Dick explains. “I chose the name to honor her when I was hunting down their killer. Robin became so attached to Batman, though, that when I was trying to step out of B’s shadow I changed my name. Someone decided it would be a good legacy superhero identity.” He ends this speech with a pointed glare at Bruce.^

Bruce is trying. He at least apologized and I can tell it helped because Dick and Bruce seem much closer.

^ He wants to join in the bantering and laughter, but he can’t quite figure out how. It’s so different from the silence he’s used to.

But maybe- just maybe- he can get used to it.^

You will soon Tim. You'll get used to it and then join in.

^ Tim stares at the email in dismay. “Bruce. Bruce, what do I do?” he whispers, holding the phone out to him.^

This opening sucks but it also shows how much Tim trusts Bruce to come right to him about his parents returning.

^ “Two things,” Bruce says. “Tim, I need you to look at me for this, please.”

Reluctantly, Tim pulls away from Bruce. “I’m listening.”

“Number one, we’re going to get you a wire and camera,” Bruce says. His eyes are steely and cold- Batman focused, even in civilian clothes. “The Commissioner has some gear for me to give to you, that should be easily concealed. We need to be able to prove neglect- try to get them to talk about how long they’ve been on their trip, about who’s watching you at home, things like that. Audio recordings will help us present an airtight CPS case that all the money in the world won’t let your parents wriggle out of.

“Number two, I’m giving you a Bat panic button, just in case. If something happens that endangers your physical safety, I want you to press that button, do you understand? If you are in physical danger, for whatever reason, we will come and get you, consequences be damned.”

Bruce doesn’t blink. “Tim. Do you understand me? We will get you out. I know that this is uncomfortable, but if we want to keep you- and we do, make no mistake- we have to play by the rules.”^

I'm hating why Bruce has these rules but I'm so glad he does. I'm also glad it seems as if Gordon is involved. It'll help if the Drakes find the wire and the camera...which is why Bruce had Jim get involved. That and they want to get Tim home to them for good. To do that, it has to be legal.

^ Still, it doesn’t stop the pit from forming in his stomach. He hadn’t been aware how much he thrived on being around people until it was taken away. He misses seeing Dick hanging from the chandeliers, Bruce’s inability to function until he has at least one mug of coffee in his system, Jason’s constant companionship, and Alfred’s silent but reassuring presence and sharp wit. He misses the constant bantering tossed from room to room- Jason’s sharp street drawl mixed with Dick’s excited tone.

Drake Manor is as silent as ever. Now that he knows what he’s missing, the silence is oppressive. Tim has the desperate urge to sing, or talk, or scream, or something , just to make the halls echo.^

You never has things like that before Tim. Once you had it, you want it all the time.

^ He misses the Waynes. He misses dinner with life and laughter- Dick perching on chairs, Jason arguing with anyone who will participate. He misses the warmth of eating with three or four other people who actually want to be around him.

He misses Alfred’s cooking. Ms. Mac is a good chef, but he had no idea just how much of a difference it made to have the food cooked fresh, not out of a microwave or reheated. ^

You miss your family. That's what you miss. Family that cares. Ms. Mac cares but you know for sure that the Wayne's do.

^ His father is angry . Tim wants to cower in his room and hide for the rest of eternity. “Do you want me to sit with you while you eat?” Tim asks. He’d rather be anywhere else.^

I thought Janet was bad with her distain for Jason...Jack's worse. He's going to hurt Tim isn't he? Not just verbally but physically also.

^ “Remember whose company this is, and remember where your power comes from,” Janet retorts. Her eyes are cold as ice, and her voice could cut diamond. Tim hides a shiver. These moods are rare, but dangerous. “Timothy. I expect you to act as perfectly befits the Drake heir. You will stay away from the gutter filth. Do you understand?”

Tim breathes out slowly. “It’s pretty pathetic that he needs so much help in school,” he says, matching his mother’s coldness with his own frozen tone. “I would certainly never seek him out.”^

I always thought Jack married in and just kept the name. This seems to help my headcanon on that fact.

Tim is more Janet than Jack in a lot of things. Like his tones in canon and fanon.

^ Tim stares at his reflection in the mirror. “It’s only a few hours,” he says aloud. “What’s the worst that can happen when we’re all offline?”^

A whole lot. Especially since you'll be getting hurt probably. Hopefully it'll help you get home faster...even if I dont like it.

^ Jason’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Twenty four hours,” he says, instead. An apparent non-sequitur- but a subtle reminder that the end is in sight.

“Twenty four hours,” Tim agrees quietly. He takes his cup of punch and moves away from the table. Jason gives him a small smile, but blessedly doesn’t follow him. ^

Less than that because your parents mess up. Of course Tim follows their rules and he'll still mess up according to them. Why they ever had him and kept him I'll never understand. (I'm glad but I won't ever understand.)

^ “He approached me. As a fellow classmate and gala attendee, it would have been impolite to not acknowledge him,” Tim says calmly. “Additionally, he believes we are friends, or at least study group partners. It does not benefit Drake Industries for me to act otherwise, as Jason Todd-Wayne stands to be a major shareholder in Wayne Enterprises one day.”

“You smart mouthed little bastard,” his father snarls. He unbuckles his belt. “Where is your respect for your mother? Jacket off.”

Tim takes a very deep breath, and holds himself with steel in his spine. “I followed my mother’s directions, in keeping my friends close but my enemies closer.” Sorry Jason , he thinks.

“Jacket. Off,” Jack snaps. “If you can’t get respect through your thick skull with words, I’ll just have to beat it into you.”

Tim holds his breath, and looks at his mother. Janet Drake has already closed off, emotions hidden behind a carefully constructed society mask.

“Well?” Jack demands. “You have thirty seconds before I take the jacket off for you. Now.”

Resigned, Tim takes his suit jacket off. All he can hope is that this will be brief. Before his father can ask, he takes off his shirt as well, making sure the button cam is facing towards the scene.

That’s all the comfort he’s going to get.^

For now baby boy, for now. This will help your case and the Drakes can't say it was forced on you or anything else because Jim Gordon helped make this happen to get you away from the Drakes.

^ “Get up,” Jack orders. Wraith slowly pushes off of his arms, and turns to face him. Facing his father makes reality sink in, and Tim rises to the surface, shaking and shivering.

“Pathetic,” Jack sneers. “You can’t even take your punishment like a man.”

Tim sniffles, and moves to put his shirt back on. His father sneers at him. His mother watches over the scene, serene as she was at the gala. “I wasn’t aware men still got whipped with belts,” he mutters, against his better judgment. His back hurts , the pain overruling his normally iron control.

“Say that again,” his mother orders.

Tim puts his suit jacket back on carefully, and turns to face his parents. He holds himself straight and tall, just as they’ve always ordered. “I said I wasn’t aware men still got whipped with belts,” he repeats.

“He’s inherited your hot head,” Janet says to Jack. She grabs Tim by the collar of his suit jacket, and drags him to the front door. “You can come back in when you’ve cooled down,” she says, opening the door to the outside. She pushes him outside.^

He's a fucking kid who just got hit ten times and told the truth, what he thinks is the truth, and you say he's hotheaded? Tim's exactly like you Janet! Exactly!

Bitch. I hope this brings you both down and the company goes to Tim, all of it. You locked your kid out in winter just because he talked back. You deserve everything coming for you. Everything.

I'm so proud of you Tim. You asked for help. Yes, you waited a bit but you still asked for help. That took courage.

^ The warm glow that was steadily building from the warmth, hot cocoa, and companionship is abruptly doused. “Oh,” Tim whispers. Right. His parents locked him outside of the house in the middle of February. And beat him repeatedly with a belt.^

It hurts to think about but it will help the case against the Drakes. You'll soon be home with your family for good. Not making the 48 hours isn't your fault, Tim. You did your best. It's your parents fault.

^ “Bruce?” Tim mumbles.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?” Bruce asks.

“They locked me out,” Tim whispers. “They never really wanted me, did they?”

“I don’t know the answer to that,” Bruce says. “But that doesn’t matter to me. We want you, even if your parents can’t see what they’re missing.”

Tim flinches. Shouldn’t his parents want him?

“‘S like I told you before, Tim. Some people ain’t fit to be parents, but they procreate anyways,” Jason says. “On the flip side of that, some people would be great parents and they never have kids of their own.” ^

Bruce is a great example of this. The way he cares for his kids, for Tim who he barely knows, shows this.

^ Tim shrugs. He’s getting tired of all of these endless questions making him make decisions, when the decision is patently obvious. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” Dr. Thompkins says. Tim watches dully as she pulls out her phone.

“Are you doing alright, Tim?” Bruce asks.

“Fine,” Tim mutters. Soonest done, soonest over with.

“I know it feels frustrating that we keep asking for your permission, but we have to verbally make sure that you consent to everything that Dr. Thompkins does,” Bruce explains. “It may feel very redundant, but it’s important that we document your consent throughout the process.”

“Okay,” Tim says.^

I don't think Tim really understands. He's trying to though. He's just so tired and just wants to be done and sleep.

^ “It’s hardly nothing,” Dr. Thompkins says. “The documentation we did today was important, and the damage could have been severe. Fortunately, most of the bruising seems to be higher up, away from your kidneys. Bruce and Alfred will have to monitor you for signs of kidney damage for the next few days, just to be safe. You can put your shirt back on, though. The cuts are all fully wrapped, Tim.”^

You might think it's nothing Tim but it's something. It is proving that the Drakes are abusing you and it's showing that you trust Bruce enough to go to him for help. You are helping your own case. Plus, as they said, it's better to be safe.

^ “Do you want me to get Dick to come pick you up?” Bruce asks.

“I can walk,” Tim protests. He doesn’t really want to, though.

“You look exhausted, though. Would you like to be carried?” Bruce asks.

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Bruce pulls his phone out again, and starts typing. “Dick and Jason are on their way,” he says. Tim shrugs again, and buries his head against Bruce’s chest.

“I hear you have a baby bird for me!” Dick says brightly.

“Good to be passed off?” Bruce asks.

“Kay,” Tim mumbles.

Warm, strong arms take hold of him around his legs and shoulders. “Come on, Timmers, let's get you into a bed,” Dick says.^

Let your family care for you Tim. I'm proud of you. You are making decisions and/or telling them if you can't think. You aren't hiding which is good.

^ Jason keeps up the soothing movements against Tim’s scalp. “How are you doing, baby bird?”

“I just want it to wake up from this nightmare.”

Warm hands cup his cheeks. Tim opens his eyes, and comes face to face with Jason. “It takes a long time. I still have times when I have to reprocess something that happened to me. But we’re all here for you, okay?”

“Kay,” Tim mutters, closing his eyes again.

“Go to sleep, Tim,” Jason says. “Everyone will still be here when you wake up.”

Tim wraps both arms around Jason, and falls asleep.^

You will Tim, you will. You'll wake up with your family and never leave them again.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #103

(taken january 20th; uploading surveys taken while gone)

What is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment? It's absolutely not for me. Though it sounds like a good recipe for getting hurt, I'm ultimately fine with others doing it SO LONG as all parties involved know exactly what the other wants.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner? I have an Olive Garden bias.

Name of your first grade teacher? Mrs. Jones.

Whose car were you in last…? My mom's.

Has someone ever choked you? Uh only consensually, let's keep it that way lol.

What will you dress up as for Halloween? It's funny you ask this because I just saved an idea in my phone literally yesterday: an adaptation of Bloody Mary where I try to make some Biblical Mary-looking costume, just with a lot of fake blood and maybe a spiked halo.

Who was the last person to piss you off? My mom finally told me Katie's (my oldest half-sister's) origin story a couple days ago and I now hate my grandmother more than I ever have. And I also want to wring her father's fucking neck. I was the kind of mad where I wanted to vomit.

Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos? Yeah. I'm saving up money/taking pictures for people again so I can get my cover-up tattoo HOPEFULLY soon, and I want an industrial ear cartilage piercing as well as my nostril re-pierced, but I doubt that's coming soon now that I know how expensive my cover-up is going to be.

Has anyone told you a secret this week? Refer back to the question about who last pissed me off. I've gone very nearly 27 years without knowing Katie's history BECAUSE I knew without knowing any details that Mom hates talking about it and now I very thoroughly understand why. It's so much worse than I thought it was.

What’s something that you like, that no one would think you’d like? Uhhhhh... OH, hunting video games. I've played them ever since childhood and just find them oddly relaxing. I have no idea how I got into them with how against trophy hunting I am, and I NEVER would do it in real life (even when I was a child, I knew this), but *shrug*

What does your best friend think of your crush/significant other? They're the same person.

Are you listening to music, currently? Yeah, I have this collection of electro remixes of various Rammstein songs on. I fucking love metal/rock mixed with electronic/techno-type music so I can binge the SHIT outta this kind of stuff.

Do you honestly think before you speak? USUALLY, yes; I'd say I tend to OVERTHINK what I want to say. However, I know that when I'm upset, I can be very impulsive with what I say and I am trying very sincerely to correct this behavior.

Who is someone you wish you got to know? It's insane how quickly I knew the answer to this: Jason's nephew Dominic. His brother's wife was pregnant with him when we broke up, and I even went to her baby shower very shortly AFTER we split. I wanted to meet and love him as an aunt so badly. I have literally cried over this, more than once. I know via his mom's obituary that they actually have two sons now.

Who is one person you regret meeting? The two boys that harassed me in pre-k and kindergarten come to mind because they absolutely instilled problems in me that have carried into today.

Where would you go if you got kicked out of your place? Either my dad's or Girt's, I'd guess.

Where is your boyfriend/girlfriend/crush? Home.

Where do you keep your old childhood memory items? In a big box in my closet.

Where on your body do you have a tattoo if any? Right wrist, underside of my left forearm, right shoulder, left shoulder, left breast, right collarbone.

Where on your body do you have a piercing if any? Bottom lip, both earlobes, tragus of my right ear.

When have you felt most depressed in your life? End of 2015 through all of 2016. Breakup aftermath. I genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, wanted to die every single moment of every day, but was too scared to kill myself until I ODed at the start of '17.

When have you been most happy in your life? Realistically probably my childhood. Otherwise, I don't know. Depression and stuff have played too big a role in my maturing/mature years.

Why do you believe/not believe in God? I could probably write my longest possible essay on this fucking topic. But look around you. That's all I need to say to have a strong case already.

How did you get your last bruise? I actually have no idea; I had a random one show up on my chest and I haven't the slightest idea where it came from.

How are you and your most recent ex? We have no form of connection and I plan on it staying that way for the rest of our lives.

How are your parents doing? I can't say for sure about Dad just because I see/talk to him so sparsely. I never really know what's current with him. My mom is okay, all things considered I guess; I was really happy to hear that her after-cancer management doctor is pleasantly surprised that her cancer hasn't reappeared yet with how severe it was. It's GOING to one day, but we're cherishing every single day it doesn't. She still does have health problems though, especially with her sugar being maintained at a safe level; it plummets very dangerously low very suddenly and quickly. She's always stressed financially. She absolutely hates living in this house with our shitty landlord/"friend" dangling her "great kindness" over Mom's head. She's constantly hurt over how my older sister treats her when it comes to being involved as family. My mom has never, EVER gotten even a fraction of what she fucking deserves.

Would you marry someone if they were unable to have sex? Yeah.

How long has it been since you had sex? Haven't had genuine sex yet.

Last reason you went to the ER? I was suicidal.

Were you a planned pregnancy for your parents? I'm not totally sure? Mom's said SHE'D planned on having another kid, but the wording made me wonder if my dad wanted another. I would hope it's something they agreed on, and it seems very un-Mom-like to make that decision on her own.

Do your parents like your boyfriend/girlfriend? They've always loved him. It'd be nice if Dad sees Girt again at some point though, like I still don't know if he even knows we're together. I do KINDA worry how Girt sees my dad/will react to him following the movie theater incident, but...

What if an ex asked to be back in your life? I'd totally be friends with Aaron again, but everyone else, the answer is no. Well, I mean... maybe I wouldn't turn Juan away if he messaged me wanting to get back in touch, SO LONG as he no longer flirted with me. I don't care if he's all the way back in Mexico, I would not be okay with that anymore. He was a person who could make me smile and laugh a lot and was very nice to me (emphasis on "to me," I guess...), so so long as he respected my boundaries, being friends again would maybe be okay?

Last gift you received? Ha ha oh man, so a few days ago I got a completely unexpected package of a big Silent Hill map blanket, and Mom was so confused and thought I'D somehow bought something or she'd ordered something she forgot about, but nope. A short while back, Girt showed me it, and I'd seen it before and casually commented on how I'd always wanted it with absolutely zero intention for him to actually buy it, but he secretly did lmfao.

Has someone had their arms around you in the past 7 days? Yeah. Normal hugs, but also on the 15th when I had my absolute emotional breakdown over thinking Girt was going to leave, he held me really tightly the entire time I cried my heart and lungs out and was constantly reassuring me.

Think back to the last person you kissed, how many times have you laughed with them? Probably more times than I've laughed with anyone else.

Do any of your close friends have children? No, no truly close friends.

Is your sibling missing someone right now? I have absolutely zero idea.

Have you ever made breakfast for someone? Yes. It's something I want to get back into doing... My family loved how I made scrambled eggs as a teenager, always with a bit of hot sauce from Taco Bell lmao, and I just want to be able to provide for others sometimes too. I haven't made eggs since Sara was here and I made breakfast, and that was multiple years ago.

What did you do after graduation? I actually don't remember, lmfao. I feel like I MIGHT have ridden home with Jason and hung out at his place?

Do you remember your first time? Haven't technically had it. I'm kinda surprised I don't really remember the first time Jason and I started to get actually sexual though, because it was not something I took lightly.

Favorite place to eat out growing up? Texas Steakhouse; that's where I had most of my birthday dinners. I loved it so much because it had a mechanical horse to ride, and I also liked seeing all the taxidermy.

What makes you feel sexy? lmfao oh HUNNY

What is your greatest irrational fear? Probably whale sharks. Like... they are COMPLETELY harmless.

How did you meet your pet? Venus: Morph Market. Roman: he was a kitten that my sister's mother-in-law had. Cookie: she was my former dance teacher's dog.

What are some of the phrases in your personal "bingo" card? lmfao GOD this is gonna be so meme-y. Uhhhh "mood," "same," "me," "rip," "oof," "gg," shit like that.

What song are you currently obsessed with? Referring back to the answer about this electro Rammstein mix, I REALY like its version of "Waidmanns heil."

Who is your favorite character in your favorite movie? I have a big soft spot for Mufasa, even if his role was very short. Wise, righteous, kind characters like him really appeal to me.

Who was your most intense sexual experience with? Jason. I don't actually remember which occasion I consider "the most" because I put no effort into remembering this stuff with him but I do know it was with him.

What colors has your hair been in your life? Dirty blonde, brown, black, red, purple, green... I think that's it.

What is the most flattering compliment you remember receiving? One of Jason's friends assumed I was a model lmfao but he only saw a picture of me.

What’s the most uncomfortable thing a stranger online has said to you? GOD who even fuckin knows, I've been on the Internet WAY too long.

Do you ever send anonymous messages of any variety? No.

What laws do you feel bothered by? Roe v. Wade being overturned and abortion laws becoming the states' responsibilities is one of THE most tragic political decisions made in my lifetime. I sincerely grieved. Literally cried.

Do you know how many people you have kissed? Four. Romantically, anyway. One though was because I felt obligated. I've kissed family on the cheek and my nieces and nephew on the head sometimes.

Do you or have you ever owned any sex toys? Bro I live WITH MY MOTHER so I wouldn't even if I wanted to lmfao

Have you seen your favorite band in concert? No, but the Grim Reaper ain't comin NOWHERE NEAR ME 'til I see Rammstein and have my eardrums fractured in two and have burns. :^) As much as I would absolutely love to see Ozzy, I expect him to drop dead like every day now so my hopes aren't high SOBS

Do you ever walk around the house naked? No. If I'm naked it is for THE shortest amount of time possible and I'm definitely not walking around my house.

Do you or would you ever wear fake eyelashes? MAYBE for my wedding, idk. I feel like they'd drive me batshit insane.

Does your best friend have a Tumblr? What is their URL? I can basically PROMISE you Girt does not have a Tumblr lmfao

Would you ever pierce yourself? I don't think I could.

Do you like the band In Flames? I know and love one song, "Where the Dead Ships Dwell," and I feel like there's another I like, but can't remember it...

What did you get on the last test you took? 100. Honestly impressed myself lol, I took the pretest for the advanced photography skills class I just started that just tested what you already knew and I wasn't expecting a 100.

One thing you miss about middle school? NOTHING.

What do you think of guys wearing colored skinny jeans? HOT but men can wear whatever the fuck they want so it doesn't even matter what I think

Who are all the people you have in your phone under “C”? Chelsea (friend) and Chelsey (brother's wife).

What about “M”? Mom, Mazzy, (Miss) Tobey

If you post videos on YouTube, what are they normally of (ex. tutorials, comedy, etc.)? I am very sincerely considering making Meerkat Manor tribute videos again. I've started making a list of ideas lmfao

What’s the longest your hair has ever been? To like, the small of my back. Maybe a bit lower.

Last thing you can remember yourself painting a picture of? Lesbian meerkat mermaids lmfao

[soulmate-game]

Curiosity Killed the Exorcist

“And then, see here? You have to be on the lookout for subtle signs like these. This indicates that he’s…” Marinette nodded as Tim continued explaining, pointing out various body language and other clues out on the Batcomputer. It had only been about six months since the Batfam collectively adopted the little ladybug into their menagerie of heroes, and started teaching her deductive habits and skills. She would not allow them anywhere near Paris on pain of death (some of them had already tried, and Bruce was still recovering from the bruise to his ego. The bruise on his ass from being teleported out of the city and onto the stone of the Batcave was gone, though) but she welcomed any help they could give from within Gotham’s city limits.

Usually, at least in the beginning, they did their mentorship at a distance over video call. But then Tim found out her identity, and Marinette made the excuse of wanting to meet with them in person to gauge their trustworthiness for herself and erase their memories of her identity if they failed her test— and, well, it all snowballed from there until she was teleporting to the Batcave every few days for detective lessons. She was practically a Bat herself, if not for her out of theme codename. And she found herself surprisingly comfortable with the thought of them being a… very eccentric extended family.

Tim was flipping to another saved video in the Batcomputer archives to show another example of his current lesson, when Tikki flew up to Marinette in a hurry. She was holding Kaalki’s glasses. The little kwami whispered something in Marinette’s ear, instantly making the teen blanch and force on the glasses.

“Sorry Timmy, gotta cut this short! I’ll come back tomorrow to make up for it! Okay? Okay! Awesome, you’re the best, bye!” She ignored all of Tim’s protests and rapid fire questions, instead opening up a portal and jumping through it as fast as humanly possible. The portal has barely disappeared before an all-too-familiar voice rose up from behind Tim.

“Maybe I’m still drunk, ‘cause I could’a sworn I just saw a portal closing in the damned Batcave, of all places,” the British-accented drawl was accompanied by the flick of a lighter and accompanying fizzle of a flame. Tim groaned, mentally making a note to ask how in the world Marinette had known that John “Annoying asshole” Constantine was showing up soon, and if he could be in on the warning next time. Bruce, cowl still off, walked over from where he had been sparring with Damian and crossed his arms. He had also heard Marinette’s hasty exit, and made a few mental notes of his own before focusing on the exorcist in front of him.

“What do you want, Constantine?” he grumbled. Any time the blond brit showed up, things only got far more complicated than he ever enjoyed. And he always gave Bruce a migraine, to boot.

“Two things actually, Batsy,” John held up to fingers as his free hand tucked his lighter away in his pocket. His unlit cigarette stayed in his mouth though, probably just for the familiar feel of it. “One; I’m gonna need you to tell me why there was a portal closing when I walked in, because I’ll be honest. The implications there are way more interesting than what I came here for in the first place.”

“None of your business. What’s the second thing?” Bruce immediately shot him down, but John was not one to be deterred. He never fucking was.

“But you hate magic! You make sure I know that all too bloody well every time I pay you a visit, so why the sudden change in heart? Huh?”

“Drop it, Constantine. What. Do you. Want?”

“Fine, fine. I need your help with…”

— * — * — * — * — *

A week later, Marinette was sitting with Jason and Damian in one of the manor’s sitting rooms, the three of them just minding their own business and silently enjoying one another’s presence. Even if two of them would never admit it. Jason was reading Jane Eyre for the millionth time, Damian was leaning against Titus on the ground as he sketched, and Marinette was embroidering a sunhat. Unfortunately for her, Alfred the Cat was currently asleep on her lap and thus holding her hostage.

Even as Tikki flew up to her ear in a panic and whispered, making Marinette prick herself with her needle. She hissed for a second but shrugged off the familiar pain, much more concerned with whatever news Tikki had given her. Damian and Jason were already on high alert from the second that a whispered curse had left her lips, and were staring straight at her and her kwami and Marinette frantically tried to find a way to get up without awakening the cat sleeping on her.

“Uh, what’s wrong?” Jason asked, feeling thoroughly confused and left out. On one hand, he knew that if they were in physical danger she would have moved Alfred the Cat without hesitation. On the other, he did not like the sheer amount of anxiety he could see her experiencing. Marinette’s frantic eyes shot over to him, pupils mere pinpricks and hands mouth agape as she tried to form some sort of plan.

“Uh— “

“Ah! You must be the fair maiden that the Bats are comfortable with using magic around them,” John goddamned Constantine threw the door to the sitting room open wide, making it bounce off of the wall and lightly smack back against his shoulder. He ignored it as he grinned at the three younger people in the room, waltzing in casual as anything. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “I’ve been awfully curious about you, ya know? Brucie boy knows a shit ton of magic users, but he never likes seein’ any of us do our thing. And to not only allow you to teleport without any apparent discomfort but to actively protect your identity from me? Now that’s a damn accomplishment and I really gotta applaud you for it,” he mockingly clapped his hands a few times. “So what’s your secret, huh? I won’t tattle.”

“No thanks. Kaalki, a little help?” Marinette carefully pushed Alfred the Cat off of her lap before diving into the portal that Kaalki whipped up for her, the entire process happening so fast that Constantine couldn’t even get out a proper “hey!” before she was gone and the portal closed. He just nodded, hooking his thumbs in his pockets.

“Ya know what? Fair. That’s fair.”

“Goddamn it, Constantine!” Jason threw up his hands in frustration. “Why the fuck do you have to scare away one of the only sane people in this family?”

“Part of my charm, little red riding hood.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“You know, I’ve been pretty damn nice not teleporting right over to you whenever you disappear. So why don’t you just tell me why you’re avoiding me now that we happen to be in the same room by complete accident, huh?” John asked from where he sat in one of Bruce’s lounge chairs sipping on a beer. Marinette mimed choking him, clearly fed up. He had been trying to have a conversation with her for the past three months, ever since that one time he caught the tail end of her portal closing in the Batcave. Three. Long. Months. And he hadn’t given up, because something about this little Parisian teenager intrigued him. She was sixteen, that much he had gathered from the Bats. But to be sixteen and not only in possession of the Horse miraculous but also clearly the Ladybugs, since he had seen Tikki more than once as well, now that was interesting.

Anybody being in the possession of more than one Miraculous was already cause enough to be keeping an eye on them, which was why he had been keeping an eye on the Paris situation and had pieced together on his own that the presence of Tikki meant that this little parisian teenager was none other than Ladybug herself. Now, that? That was a whole new level of concerning, especially since he knew firsthand that the old Grand Guardian was gone and passed his title down to— yeah, Ladybug.

After that deduction, his interest in Marinette had swiftly switched from curiosity to fuck-I-need-to-know-what’s-going-on-here. Because no kid should have to deal with that kind of weight, and Constantine always looked out for kids when he could.

But right then, Marinette was glaring at him. She had been just coming over for a normal “family” dinner with the Waynes, which she attended from time to time. And apparently they had decided to have Constantine already over so that they could chaperone a meeting between them that would hopefully appease the stupid british magic user enough that he left them all alone again until the next time he needed help.

“Believe me when I say, you’d rather not know,” she replied sharply, glaring Dick. He was the one who had convinced her to come despite her recent close calls with Constantine in the past few days. He studiously avoided her gaze. “I just would rather not cross your path, and there’s no reason for us to interact. Why do you care, anyway?”

“You see, now that is an excellent question!” he chugged the last of his beer and gestured to her with the empty bottle. “Normally, I wouldn’t give a flying rat’s ass. But I’ve put two and two together, since I know who Tikki is,” he nodded to the red and black Kwami. “And maybe I just wanna keep an eye on the new Grand Guardian to make sure she’s doin’ alright. That’s an awful lot of magic and responsibility that you don’t deserve, but I’m not about to try to take it away. Keepin’ an eye on you is the next best thing.”

“Try again,” Marinette shot back, crossing her arms. “You were interested in me before you learned about me being Ladybug.”

“I’m nosy, what do you want me to say? I saw a portal in Batman’s man-cave, I get curious. Sue me.”

“Well. I have Bruce and everyone else already watching out for me, so you can leave me alone now. If I need your help, I’ll make sure to ask every other magic user first before contacting you.”

“Woah, now what’s all this venom for?”

“Uh, maybe we should go and actually eat dinner?” Dick tried to step in, hands up. Constantine had stood up from the chair he was in, which was usually a cue to change the subject as fast as possible. “Before Alfred has to come get us?”

“Maybe I’ll be less venomous if you let the subject drop and leave me alone!”

“Context would be nice, though.”

“Seriously guys, let’s go! Food!” Dick was once again ignored.

“Context is the last thing you need in this situation,” Marinette’s voice was suddenly soft, her arms dropping to her sides. “We’ve had this conversation so many times in so many now-deleted timelines. Just drop it this time.”

“If those timelines are now-deleted, then I obviously don’t remember what’s so bad about telling me why you’re acting like I’m some hated family member you’re avoiding!”

Silence.

Pure. Fucking. Silence. As they all watch with front row seats as Marinette flinches at the word ‘family’.

Pure silence as Constantine’s shoulders drop at the sight of her flinch, realization slapping itself on his face.

“No.”

“See? I fucking knew you would— that this would happen. This always happens, you always hate finding it out, but you’re so— so stubborn!” Marinette was blinking away tears, digging in her pockets and bringing out Kaalki’s glasses. “You’ll drop it now, at least. You always do.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Constantine rubbed his forehead, still trying to sort through his amalgam of emotions. Marinette just shook her head, turning to Kaalki.

“Do you mind showing Monsieur Constantine the way out, Kaalki? I’ll grab you a load of sugar cubes afterward.”

“No, wait, hang on a second!”

A portal opened up under him, making John “Stubborn Idiot” Constantine drop ten feet down onto the hardwood, polished floor of his house. His bruised tailbone would take a while to heal, but his frazzled mind was by far the more concerning development. He staggered to his feet, reaching for the nearest bottle of tequila.

“Ugh, fuck my damn life.”

— * — * — * — * — *

“Marinette..?” Damian nudged the girl with his shoulder, frowning. It was after dinner that same day, and as much as he hated to admit it he had grown to actually like having her around. She was a good friend to have. And seeing her slumped back on one of their sofas, sketchbook covering her face and not a single rambling conversation to be had or heard? It was very concerning. She just made a groaning sound to answer him, prompting his frown to deepen. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe that such a sweet, adorable thing like you is half made up of Constantine’s genes,” Jason mused bluntly from the opposite couch, where he tossed a rubber ball up and down out of boredom. “But now I see where you get all of your Disaster Bi-ness from.”

“Shut uuuuup,” She groaned, chucking her sketchbook at him. He caught it in midair, replacing his rubber ball with it and tossing it up and down in the air. “I’m just frustrated. This timeline is still perfectly stable, so I can’t erase it. And I can’t exactly ask ‘hey, can someone commit a horrid atrocity that makes this timeline split from the main one so that I can erase it and we can start over from four months ago?’ because that would be horribly irresponsible of me. But seriously, Jason. If you’re gonna ever commit, like, city-wise arson? I’d probably condone it right now if only so I have an excuse to use time travel to get out of this situation.”

“Not committing arson unless you give me a better reason for it, Pigtails.”

“Damn.”

“But are you okay?” Damian asked again, seeing as she had completely ignored him.

“I’m fine, Damian,” she finally sighed. “And I know how this is gonna go. He’s going to totally ignore me now, until we meet during some magical crisis and he only interacts with me when necessary. Then he pretends we never met, we have a private little one-sided whisper-argument about how he will never make a good father figure and I would be better off leaving him alone, blah blah blah. Avoidance is a coping mechanism I guess I inherited from him.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m trying to bite that in the bud then, eh?” Marinette startled out of her sitting position, seeing John stumble into the room…

Drunk off his ass. But apparently still at least mildly coherent.

“I agree with deleted-me’s, I’m not gonna be a dad. Not me,” he tripped, landing on his still-bruised ass and hissing in pain before continuing from the floor; “So if you’re looking for another Daddy dearest, that ain’t me.”

“See, I knew this is how you’d—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how long the booze is gonna last and I need it’s courage here. ‘Kay? ‘Kay. Where was I? Right. But I know magic, ya know. The kind that doesn’t rely on little bobblehead gods to do. I got— like, a million books. Shit ton of books. At my place. Ya can read ‘em. My books. At my place. But I ain’t gonna parent, but I can lend ya books. Maybe give magic advice. Teach a little. Little bit. Didn’t think I’d have a child, but apparently I do and she’s the fuckin’ grand guardian and a damn hero, and I don’t know how the fuck I was able to help make someone like that. But whatever, it’s not like the world’s ever fuckin’ been easy on me,” He pulled out a sample-sized bottle of whiskey from one of the pockets on the inside of his trench coat and chugged it. After a brief wince and hiss at the burn, he kept rambling. “My door’s open, is what I’m tryin’ to say. No guarantee I’ll be in any state to talk to when you walk through it, but it’s open.”

Deciding to steadfastly ignore the tears streaming down her face, Marinette just swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I, uh. I think I can work with that.”

John barely made it to the nearby bin in time to vomit into it.

— * — * — * — * — *

I hate my imagination sometimes, guys. I started imagining a convo between Mari and Constantine at like 4am and it wouldn't leave me alone until I got it down. but by the time I wrote it, I kinda forgot like 60% of the original convo and just winged it. And this was born. I 100% blame @multifandomscribette because their Bio!dad John Constantine headcannons are amazing and even though this isn't in that universe, those headcannons are exactly what inspired this. So blame them, lol.

[thebibliophilevigilante]

Much to Jason’s chagrin, Tim actually had needed backup. He was massively outnumbered, even though he was wiley and could get himself out of any situation. Once the issue had been dealt with, Jason glanced at his watch. 12:10.

“What’s with you tonight? You got a hot date or something I pulled you away from?” the younger man sassed.

Jason was about to respond when his comms crackled again. “I think Red Hood is feeling a bit…blue.”

He hissed back into the comms, “You’re really trying to test me today, aren’t you, Nightwing?”

“Depends. Do I get an A?”

“For ‘Aggravating Annoyance?’ Absolutely.”

“Children, comms are for strategic discussions only, not bickering,” Barbara interjected, scolding the two oldest men.

“Sorry, Mom,” they said in unison.

Just then, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He slid it out, face instantly breaking into a gleaming grin as Madison’s name popped up on his phone. Thank God the helmet covered it. When he unlocked the phone and saw the photo, his mind instantly short-circuited. His short-term memory immediately recalled what she had been doing under that jacket on her freaking balcony, and she had the gumption to text him that photo with that caption? To her merit, she was right. She was thinking about him on the loveseat. He had to get back there as soon as possible.

“Yo, R-Red Robin,” he called out, voice cracking slightly but hopefully he could play it off as the modulator glitching out. “I need to head out. I’m sure you got this, yeah?”

He didn’t even bother waiting for a response.

As he quickly navigated his route to Madison’s, he lowered the volume of his comms. He would be damned if his cockblock of a family bothered him again. He then immediately flipped his phone to silent mode, but not before reading Dick’s text of “Be sure you wrap it before you tap it, Little Wing!”

Would Bruce believe he died in his sleep if Jason suffocated him with a pillow?

He finally landed on the roof of the building to the left of hers, and he could see her figure standing against the railing, his jacket covering her front like a Snuggie. From the distance he was, it almost looked like she was wearing nude pajamas.

He took a closer look with his opticals, and cursed under his breath. No. She wasn’t wearing nude pajamas. She was just…bare. She was bare, under his jacket, on her balcony after he had strictly told her not to.

Oh, she was playing with fire indeed.

Before some other interruption caught him off guard, he made a quick descent down the fire escape, careful to distribute his weight so the wrought iron didn’t reverberate and give him away.

When he got to her landing, he checked around the corner, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight of her, what he could see. It was just a glimpse of her skin from his angle…

So he decided he needed to investigate further.

Delicately, he hurdled himself over the wrought iron and over her railing, his combat boots making a thud against the floor of her patio to announce his entrance. He clicked his tongue in mock disapproval before he spoke, so the modulated voice wouldn’t completely catch her unawares. “You’re just looking for trouble, aren’t you?” he teased. “I tell you not to leave your patio door wide open, not to sleep outside late at night, and then I’m out on patrol and I find you out here in a compromising position. Not that I’m necessarily complaining, though…as your patio does offer the loveliest of views.”

When it comes to getting intel, there are several ways to go about it. One could ask politely, or ask the right questions to eventually draw information from their target. There is intimidation, threatening your target and demanding the information in exchange for remaining unharmed. Then there is incognito surveillance, appearing inconspicuous and melding in with one’s environment just listening and watching.

The current session was the latter.

A raven-haired man with a blanched tuft in his bangs kept his teal eyes trained on the book in his massive, calloused right hand. His left swirled his take-away cup absentmindedly. He was reading words, but they weren’t registering in his brain. His focus was more concentrated on the conversations around him, and what information he could gather before his next patrol.

The first three rules of real estate are location, location, location. Burnley Brewhouse definitely had that, especially for Jason Todd. It was conveniently placed right on the very edge of Burnley, practically at the juncture of where Crime Alley and The Bowery neighborhoods started (which were all Jason’s domain). By day, the neighborhood was full of regular citizens, students and tourists. By night, the whole area was crawling with denizens of the dark wheeling and dealing for their own personal gain and vices while putting others at risk.

Jason brought his cup to his mouth for a sip, his eyes flicking to the counter where two men with heavier builds were waiting for their order. One had a rough 5 o’clock shadow, the other a scraggly, unkempt blond beard, both wearing holy jeans and beat-up leather jackets. He recalled seeing them once during a patrol a couple of weeks prior, skulking around by the Freight Yards. They were definitely up to no good then, and could offer him decent information in the present. The barista handed both of them a take-away cup, and his eyes quickly glanced down to his book again, his peripherals watching as they meandered around to sit at a table caddy-corner from his in the back corner of the shop.

“Terry was telling me about that new candy order he has coming in,” 5 O’Clock muttered lowly to his friend. “Said it should get here overnight, and we can distribute to the stores first thing in the morning.”

Scraggles ran his nails over his beard as he listened. “Loaded with sugar? Y’know these kids can’t get enough of their sugar.”

“He said it was everything needed from the inventory list. He said he has his pal Molly coming in to help with the shipment too.”

There was a small pause before, “How many donuts did he get and where from?”

“11 for the crew. I think he said they’re from Declan’s over on 14th Street.”

Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Those two idiots were blatantly discussing a drug drop in broad daylight just as if they were talking about a regular candy store shipment.

He switched the book to his right hand as he snagged a napkin from the holder and a pen from the table. He scribbled a note to himself, writing the characters’ names from his book, followed by “PG 11, DL 14.” He knew his own shorthand; the character names were to keep up appearances. “PG 11” would remind him the drop was scheduled for 11, and “DL 14” would remind him the ship would be at Dock Bay 14.

His attention went back to his book as he brought the pen to his lips, teeth nibbling on the retractable plunge as he appeared deep in thought. He was about to tune back into 5 O’Clock and Scraggly’s conversation when the cafe’s entry bell rung.

His eyes flitted to the door to assess the entrant, and he froze. A young brunette with piercing dark eyes was glancing around, looking for a place to perch herself no doubt. She was breathtaking, and certainly unlike any other person he had seen come in to Burnley’s. As she turned to the counter, he couldn’t help the large grin that danced over his face. First he got lucky with the tip-off. Would he be lucky enough for that gorgeous girl to sit anywhere within his vicinity?

@rpwiththelilflower

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

not a date - extra!

story page | talk to me/join the tag list | the playlist

wc: 1.7k

*EXTRA - 73 QUESTIONS*

The doorbell rang, you twisted and tugged the knob to open it. Joe was on the other side, a camera crew and a handful of other people for lighting and sound.

“Hey Y/N,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you smiled. “Come on in!”

“Thanks so much, are you ready to answer all my questions?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be--but that’s already a question, so you only have seventy-two left,” you joked, a few steps further into your apartment and over to the tea kettle you’d put on.

“Great, let’s do this. You always say how you love New York City. How long have you lived here?”

“Since I was nineteen,” you said.

“And what’s your favorite part of living here?”

You smiled and reached for two mugs. “The food, definitely the food.”

“I totally get that,” he nodded. “What about your least favorite part?”

You made a face at the camera. “The paparazzi.”

“Where’s the coolest place you’ve ever traveled?”

“I went to Tokyo for my tour back in 2017. That was amazing.” You reached for two tea bags, draped them over the side of the mugs.

“If you had to live somewhere aside from New York, where would it be?”

“Hmm, probably London.”

“Do you go there a lot?”

“I just spent a few months there this spring,” you admitted, pouring the boiling water inside. “It’s an awesome city, a lot of cool people.”

“Is that where you get your love of tea?” He angled the camera down to the mug you pushed forward on the counter.

“Definitely.”

“Are you going back anytime soon?”

Your stomach flipped a little, remembered Mia asking about Jason’s planned return after the holidays. “I don’t know,” you said honestly. “Hopefully!”

“What’s your favorite part about your job?”

You picked up your mug and headed for the living room, Joe followed behind. “I love most of it, to be honest.”

“If you had to pick one part?”

“Performing and getting to sing to people who connect to my music. it feels really awesome to be in a room like that.”

“Do you have a least favorite part?”

You sat down on the couch. “The paparazzi,” you echoed an earlier sentiment, Joe laughed.

“What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?”

“Be honest with yourself and with others.”

“How about the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

You smiled, cheeks red at the thought of the truth. “That I’m funnier than people thought I was.”

“What’s your favorite childhood memory?”

“Going to the beach with my family. We used to rent a house in the summer and I just remember staying up late and playing outside, make s'mores, stuff like that."

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Two brothers--they’re a handful, to say the least.”

“Yeah? Do you get along with them?”

“Aside from some normal sibling rivalry, yes. They might disagree, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ugh, well, we recently rehashed a memory of me shoving my little brother down the stairs, but it was only a few steps and he was fine!” You defended.

“Whoa,” Joe laughed. “Why’d you shove him?”

“He was in the way, I was putting on a show with my little guitar and he was pissing me off, I guess.”

“Does he forgive you now?”

You rolled your eyes. “He better.”

“What’s your favorite midnight snack?”

“Ramen noodles,” you nodded slowly. “Or candy.”

“What’s your favorite meal of the day?”

You thought on it for a second, brought your eyes back to him when you had your answer. “Breakfast.”

“What time of day do you typically write songs?”

“At night, but, whenever inspiration strikes, I need to be ready.”

“Where’s the weirdest place you’ve ever written a song?”

“On a plane.”

“On a plane?” He asked, surprised.

“Thirty thousand feet over the Atlantic ocean,” you nodded.

“What's the song about?”

An embarrassed smile. “Wanting to spend more time with someone.”

“Got it,” his eyebrows rose. “Okay. Does that person know the song is about them?”

“He does now, yeah.”

“How’d you tell him?”

“I recorded a rough version and sent it to him in an email a few weeks after I wrote it.”

“Do you always tell people when you write songs about them?”

“No way,” you laughed. “Almost never.”

“What made you tell this person?”

“Well, right before I wrote it I got that advice: be honest with yourself and with others.”

Joe nodded, stood from the couch. “Do you want to go outside?”

“Sure,” you stood, led him over to the balcony off your bedroom.

“If you weren’t a musician, what do you think you’d be doing?”

“When I was young I wanted to be a lawyer, but--law school’s a lot.”

“Did you like school growing up?”

“On Fridays when we got extra recess,” you laughed, tugging on a jacket that Mia handed you off camera.

“What’s the most recent movie you watched?”

“Someone Great on Netflix. My friend and I watched it and cried like babies.”

“What’s your idea of a fun night out?”

“Dinner, drinks, something more low-key like that.”

You stepped outside and into the cool air. Joe did too, you took a seat as planned on the lounge chair and waited for the next question.

“How about a fun night in?”

“Take out, wine, a movie. Pajamas...definitely pajamas.”

“What’s your favorite song you’ve ever written?”

“I can’t pick one!” You laughed. “I love them all.”

“Do you have a favorite song you’re working on, right now?”

You had a few, went along with the bit when someone handed you a guitar. “I guess,” you shrugged. “It goes like this, so far…”

I don’t think we’re wasting time

But if you do I’m sorry

I can see a life with you

But if you can’t I’m sorry

If four months mean nothing

If none of it counts for something

Then I’m sorry

If spending every night in your bed

Has no meaning, then what are we?

You cut yourself off, handed the guitar back to the production assistant who waited nearby.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Joe said. “When did you write that?”

“The other night, on the couch in my living room. Inspiration struck, I guess!”

“Do you always write on guitar?”

“Mostly, but I write a lot on piano, too.”

“What type of song do you like writing more, love songs, or sad songs?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

Joe laughed. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking the questions! Do you think they’re the same thing?”

“I think most sad songs are love songs. Love songs don’t have to be happy.”

“Fair point. Speaking of, what’s something that makes you happy?”

“My family and my friends,” you said. “Let’s go inside, I’m cold.”

He stood and followed you again. “Do you like winter?”

“I like the holidays,” you said. “But not the cold, so much.”

“What’s your favorite season?”

“Spring…or summer, both, I guess.”

“What time do you wake up most mornings?”

“Depends,” you found your way back to the couch and picked up your tea. “If I’m not traveling, around eight, probably.”

“And when you are traveling?”

“Too early,” you nodded.

“What’s your most prized possession?”

“Hmmm,” you thought. “A necklace my mom gave me.”

“What’s the best gift you’ve ever received?”

“That necklace,” you smiled. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“What surprises you most about people?”

“That my friends are pretty good at keeping secrets.”

“Secrets? Do you have any?”

You giggled a little. “Depends on who you ask.”

“What’s something that a lot of people don’t know about you?”

You leaned back on the couch, smiled but rolled your eyes. “Uh, probably that I can get pretty anxious. I mean, my friends and family know that, but a lot of people don’t.”

“Is there anything specific that makes you anxious?”

“Aside from getting asked a bunch of questions?” You teased, “probably the future, not knowing what it entails.”

“How do you deal with your anxiety?”

“I try to talk to people, ask for support when I need it.”

“What’s something you wish people knew about you?”

“That I’m pretty silly, once you get to know me.”

“Do you have any nicknames?”

“Uh, my dad calls me lovebug, my brothers call me a variety of mean nicknames,” you admitted. “All in good fun, though.”

Joe laughed. “Any plans that you’re excited for?”

“Touring my new album next summer!”

“That's awesome, I can't wait to see another show of yours! What was the most recent dream you had?”

You laughed at the change in topic. “I actually dreamt last week that I was getting chased--which, doesn’t that mean something?”

“I think so,” Joe admitted. “Do you usually remember your dreams?”

“Not always, only if I wake up terrified like that!”

“What’s your favorite type of dessert?”

“Cake!” You stood from the couch again, led him into your office and sat at the piano that faced the window.

“What’s something you’re proud of?”

You played a few chords absentmindedly. “It makes me really proud when fans tell me my music means something to them or helped them in a rough time.”

“You do have some great fans,” he smiled. “What’s been your favorite moment in your career so far?”

“Definitely winning Grammys,” you pointed at the awards that sat on the bookshelf nearby. “That never gets old.”

“What’s a piece of advice you’d give to musicians just getting started?”

“Remember why you make music in the first place.”

“What’s your pre-show ritual?”

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “Well, I drink a cup of tea with honey, I use a vocal steamer, I do warm ups. I try to take some quiet time and just get ready to be on stage in front of all those people. Then I do a huddle with my band and we just get excited, say a few words, you know.”

“Do you ever get nervous before you perform?”

“Not so much anymore,” you confessed. “But if it’s a big show or if I know there are specific people in the audience, I definitely do.”

“What’s something you want to do, but you’re too afraid?”

“Skydive!”

“Who’s your best friend?”

“Blake Lively,” you smiled. “She’s way too good to me.”

“What would your best friend say is your best quality?”

“That I’m kind and loving, I think.”

“And your worst?”

You laughed, headed back out towards the front door. “That I overthink.”

“When did you feel most embarrassed?”

“When I fell on the red carpet at the American Music Awards in 2016. That’s a GIF people send to me all the time now.”

Joe laughed. “Yeah, I think everyone’s seen that. What’s your favorite part of your apartment?”

You looked around the open living room. “Probably the fireplace, or the balcony.”

“Have you been happy lately?”

You smiled, a tiny nod. “I have been. I am.”

“Okay, final question. Did you have fun today?”

“I did!”

“Alright, well thanks for hanging out with me today! See you later, Y/N!”

story page | talk to me/join the tag list | the playlist

tag list: @golden-hoax @fineelineee

AN: LMK if you wanna join the tag list!!!!! Thanks to everyone who submitted questions. This was fun to do! Part 10 soooon!

[bread-elf]

Aug. DWC 2022 - Day 7

Peace “Ooh my Goddess, you’re such a big girl now!” Jiroki’s heart squeezes in her chest as she dotes on her littlest child, Cylliah Glaivefall, the family celebrating the child’s first birthday. Food and cake already has been served and eaten. The rest of the children were off playing already, hyped up on sugar and horsing around on some low hanging trees. Sharpen Jadescythe is watching them, having his daughter Sunner strapped to him. The Glaivefall twins are young and trying to play with some of their older cousins, a Kaldorei boy named Andorus and a full blooded human Jaxon. The two boys can steadily climb the tree on their own, but Sharpen helps the twins to make sure they can climb partially without falling. Merli’neath stands nearby too, enjoying watching the children playing as she carries the toddler Taldreath. As she carries him on her arm, in hand he’s carrying his most favorite toy at this time, a blue elephant plush toy that goes by the name of Petunia Jenua. Just a bit off to the side resides the ‘party site’ where everyone had sat and ate. Some of the other adults that had attended are scattered a bit around the general proximity; Jiroki’s sister Estal with her boyfriend Szadek and her adult son, the twin’s father Drax’ara, as well as the mother of Andorus named Reillea, a dear friend to Jiroki and who lives on the land with the Glaivefalls. They subtly watch the children play in their own social circles, but for the time being Jiroki and Cylliah sit on a blanket with two others.

Jason Helsong has brought his own daughter to Cylliah’s birthday party. Just a few months younger than Cylliah, Gwen Frostseer has matching dirty blonde hair like her father’s, though her icy blue eyes belong to her own mother. Gwen has fallen asleep, tuckered from the festivities, and Cylliah is not far behind as her eyes flicker heavily from sleep. Jiroki is tucking her into a little makeshift napping spot where she can rest comfortably without rolling, though hopefully the joyful cries of the other children won’t keep the two girls up. “This means Gwen’s birthday is coming up in a few months…” It starts to sink in for Helsong that his own daughter will soon be one, only having just sometime after meeting Jiroki being able to have shared custody with his ex. “What- What should we do? Should we have it at the port? Oh no, Juvia’s father will probably be there…” Having a tremendous fear of his ex’s father, already paling at just the mere memory of the man. But the color returns to his face as Jiroki lays a hand on him and starts to rub his back.

“Relax.” Jiroki chuckles. “We can have our own birthday party for her here, but you should see what Juvia wants to do the next time you see her. She said she wanted to meet Cylliah, so maybe we can bring her and Taldreath over for a party. The twins might be a bit too energetic for it.” “You’re right…” Helsong watches as said twins are now trying to enlist the help of their father for higher tree climbing. Thankfully Drax’ara doesn’t seem keen on being too mischievous with all of the little ones around, and is now trying to interest them in some stone skipping at the lake they all border. Helsong looks back to Jiroki and his worries ease away, giving her a dreamy expression as he stares at her, content. “Don’t look at me like that.” Jiroki snickers, color blossoming on her cheeks as she has to shyly look away. But Helsong reaches over to take her hand, giving a loving squeeze as he keeps looking at her in the same way. “I think my face will get stuck like this living with you.” Trying to be funny, but his cheesy nature just making Jiroki giggle, which only encourages his behavior. “I- I love you. A lot.” “I know.” Glancing back at him, her smile full of joy. “How is your ear healing? Is it still sore?” “Oh- kind of.” Helsong reaches up to a new ear piercing he has. Just a single one on his left ear, having a sharp ended piercing until it’s fully healed and he can change the earring. Even though he confirmed it’s a bit sore, he touches it regardless, which reaffirms it is in fact sore and makes him wince. “Taldreath pulled it the other day… I thought I was going to die.” “Oh no!” Jiroki laughs at his exaggeration, even though she shouldn’t. “I’m so sorry! I’ll kiss it better…” Jiroki leans in, not actually kissing the piercing but at the top of the ear instead. Helsong for a moment tenses, then nearly shivers as he feels his lover's lips on him. “I- I might need more later. Tonight. To- feel better. It’s… really sore.” Trying to be vague yet flirty all at once, his efforts tickling the woman. She snickers, very much understanding his intentions. He keeps his sleeping daughter close to his chest, but Jiroki deigns to plant a few more kisses along his cheek. “You’re getting much more than some kisses tonight.” Jiroki whispers against his cheek, causing the man to blush furiously. His cloudy eyes dart around, seeing if anyone else happens to be close at all, and he gives a nervous but heart filled chuckle. “Is it my birthday?” He asks playfully, which makes her erupt in laughter. “MIN’DA!” A sudden urgent cry calls out from Anorahm causing the pair look over at her. “An’da said you can’t throw rocks! But I’ve seen you throw rocks and mpmph-” Drax’ara suddenly clamps a hand over his daughter’s mouth, trying to silence her before she summons the beast, but it’s too late. “He what?!” Jiroki feels challenged, too easy to bait, especially by loved ones. “Baby can you watch Cylliah? I need to remind Drake why he still works for me.” Already beginning to stand. Helsong rolls his eyes, a learned trait he’s been getting from Jiroki, but he just snickers and adjusts his hold on Gwen. “Of course my love. Knock him dead.”

Jiroki doesn’t stray from Helsong or their two children, just moving behind them until she’s close enough to tread along the lakeside, bending down to begin collecting her amo. There’s ripples in the water wading from where the twins and Drax’ara are skipping their rocks, and she plucks out some flat stones that she spots that’s directly in the water. Gaining some rocks, something that catches her eye that makes her stop and lose her thought process. At first thinking she sees some pure white rocks residing in the water, the specks of white she sees aren’t actually physical, but reflections from the water. In her reflection. Gone are the abysmal orbs given from sheer rage and grief, once more donning the eyes given to her at birth, the moon blessed eyes of a Kaldorei. “Just got ten skips in!” Drax’ara calls out, very much on board for their little competition as the twins get their practice in as well. “Darling, are you finding them ok?” Helsong asks from where he sits as she collects rocks, his eyes on Jiroki as their little girls sleep. Jiroki is shocked, pulled out of her thoughts as she hears her family around her. She looks up and to Helsong, then once more back to her reflection. Her eyes are in fact still the same abysmal orbs as they have been for the past few years, ever since she took up arms with her people in mourning for Teldrassil. Still her people mourn to this day, yet with the family she’s made, the family that keeps growing, all her friends and loved ones she’s met since losing her first family. After a forest fire growth returns, and peace is relearned. “Yea I’m fine!”

@daily-writing-challenge