#i used to make hundreds of half empty google docs for every character i can think of (including ocs)

[rook2ii]

dude, why does accidentally messing up on RYM feel scarier that accidentally messing up on MusicBrainz :[

[aelaer]

For the fanfic asks: 2. What’s next on your ‘to-read’ list? (Fan fiction or otherwise) 5. What’s a crackship you love? 6. What’s the last thing you read that made you laugh? 7. What’s the last thing you read that made you cry? 11. Kid fic or childhood friends? 18. Do you have a fic reading/writing routine?

Hi neutron! I've been wondering where you were! Good to see you again. I hope you're doing okay in these insane times. I'm interested in hearing about it if you're interested in sharing. Also you now have a number by your name, that’s new!

This is a really rambly answer that meanders past the questions multiple times. I apologize for my verbosity, as well as some of the dry, uh, glass-half-empty tone that may leak through the answers. It's been a real rough 48 hours. Rambling while channeling Eeyore sometimes helps get it out, hah. Cut if you’re not reading this on tumblr’s dumb half-working mobile app.

2. What’s next on your ‘to-read’ list? (Fan fiction or otherwise)

For fanfic, I don't have anything on my immediate to-read list. I do have several longer bookmarked stories from both Sherlock and the MCU, but a couple of them deal with really heavy topics (like grieving over death or the aftermath of assault) and I'll wait until the world is more calm before getting to those. Others I know are in the works but I'm waiting for them to be nearer to completion before diving in. And then others are romance-focused and I honestly need to be in the mood to read romance-focused, novel-length stories. I can get through a romance one or two shot in a breeze, but I get really bored in most romance novel-length stories and honestly don't understand why the majority of women love them so much. Unfortunately platonic, family or found family novel stories are virtually nonexistent in the MCU with my guy so, y'know. I'll likely get to the romances when I'm in the mood. (Usually it happens on airplanes. I don't know why either.)

My "to review" list is actually longer, to get to the 1% of stories that actually fall into my favorite genre: platonic shit. Platonic shit doesn't usually get many reviews anyway so that's my immediate goal as opposed to reading since I've read virtually every gen story that contains Doctor Strange as a character already :D

Outside of fanfic? That's a really good question. I have no idea. I should check out the free ebook sites that are opening up. Anyone have any recs? Humor is awesome, don't want anything sad or with unhappy endings atm. Fictional or nonfiction all work.

5. What’s a crackship you love?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Does Stephen/Cloak count? I think that could count. It's definitely a bit odd. The really really weird ones are when the Cloak gets a humanoid form for The Exact Reason You're Thinking.

Stephen/tentacle monster is also one I've seen which is just fucking hilarious.

Oh, and anything with Groot. As an adult of course, whatever counts as adulthood for grootpeople. I haven't read anything mind you, but that seems like hilarity waiting to happen.

6. What’s the last thing you read that made you laugh?

Nothing that I can remember in fanfic :/ I could use a good laugh, but at the moment I've only been getting them via memes and Twitter. I can't remember the last funny scene in a fanfic that I've read. Nothing this year, I think. Likely last summer or fall with some of the couple lovely one shots that came around then.

My answers have really sucked so far. Gah.

7. What’s the last thing you read that made you cry?

The news. *rimshot*

Okay this one I can answer. Signature Move back in September. I remembered because I can count on one hand the number of fanfics that have made me cry over the last 16.5 years.

I think the last book to make me cry was The Lovely Bones well over a decade ago.

11. Kid fic or childhood friends?

Kid fic, except for de-aging fics. Fics exploring the characters as children or around children are fantastic. I'd honestly love to see more of this with Stephen (expect with a de-aged Peter, and with actual children, not teenagers who are almost adults.)

18. Do you have a fic reading/writing routine?

Fic reading routine: Let's see if there's anything new that I'm interested in. *three minutes later* Nope! (basically the people I follow here on Teh Tumblrlrlrlr tend to link their stuff here, so I get it here first, read it, tell em "yay!", then go about my merry way. I am usually very surprised if I find something that grabs me in browsing ao3, to the point that I only browse if I'm uploading something or replying to reviews. The fanfic I'm looking for comes out in limited amounts and I can only write so much of it *shrug*.)

When I do find something that looks interesting, I read it immediately if possible. If not possible, I keep the tab open on my phone until I get to it. That is usually in bed at night. I try to review immediately because if I don't it takes me like three friggin weeks to get back to review it; damn, I owe a few reviews that I really need to do before the end if the week.

If the something I found interesting is really really really long and compelling, I used to binge read into the wee hours of the morning. I control myself a bit better now, as I must do as a Supposedly Responsible Adult. Even doing this I think I still managed to read around 1000 Sherlock fanfics throughout 2017 and 2018. Oh how I binged.

For writing: It depends largely on the time of day, actually. If it's before 10PM, I usually take my laptop out. One of the Discord communities I'm in has a writing sprint channel, and if there's anyone doing a sprint, I'll join them. This has helped me get the hardest parts of chapters onto paper several times, those nasty filler parts that are just being really stubborn. If there's no sprint going on, I'll sometimes start one myself (though only if someone will join me).

I don't always use a sprint when on my laptop though. On my laptop in the first two to five tabs are the stories I'm currently working on (and five tabs after those is the story I promised to fucking beta read five hundred years ago but I'm clearly the worst person to ask for a beta as you can tell by the lack of it being finished, jfc me). Anyway, I'll review those, maybe jump around and scroll a bit to review my notes or what I've written, and once I get a bit more spark of inspiration while reviewing, I'll start writing. If no spark comes or I'm forcing myself to write a specific scene that's acting up, that's when I use the sprint method described above.

After 10pm, I write on my phone. Thank goodness the Google doc app exists. It's much slower, but it's still writing and that's really what counts. My creativity is very much a night owl and I've written a couple hundred words (or more) late at night many times. Sometimes it's just outlining, sometimes it's just pieces of dialogue. The smart phone has definitely made writing before bed even more convenient.

Thank you.

[thegladelf]

Practically Gushing

So, I wanted to get this finished before Batman #35/36 comes out and completely invalidates this idea. You can find this one on Ao3, but not FF.net because they don’t accept Google docs and the paste option went all weird on me.

Summary: After the JLA finds out about Bruce and Selina's engagement, Clark decides he needs to confront Bruce on his choice of life partner. Because there is no way this ends well... Is there?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson

Rating: G

Word count: 2120

Every time he visited, Clark couldn’t get over the fact that the Cave never really changed. No matter the season, no matter the fixtures that changed, it was always large, dark, and dank. And slightly claustrophobic. Which was saying something when the only thing standing between him and the surface were a few layers of bedrock and about three seconds. He would never understand how Bruce could spend so much time in here, but he did, and so here Clark was.

And he was probably going to regret it.

He touched down lightly, but as ever, it wasn’t lightly enough.

Bruce set down the armor-plated glove he was inspecting and sighed, glaring at the cave's ceiling. His belt lay on the counter before him, along with most of his gear, but he’d changed out of the suit into track pants and a muscle shirt. A soft, gauze bandage wrapped around his bicep.

"You know," Bruce said without turning around, "I'm going to revoke your security clearance if you keep showing up unannounced, Clark."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Because that would stop me."

"It will if I incorporate kryptonite into my security."

"You wouldn't."

Bruce turned finally and raised one eyebrow.

"Nevermind," Clark muttered. "I forgot who I was talking to."

His friend returned to inspecting his gear, reaching for a set of small tools when he found that one of the joins didn't bend properly. He didn’t appear to favor the injured arm as he worked, but then with Bruce that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Did he do this every night?

Of course, he did. Bruce was meticulous, always had been.

Which was why the issue at hand didn't make any sense to Clark.

"Spit it out, Clark," Bruce said gruffly, his eyes on his work the entire time.

"I feel like I should revisit the kryptonite issue and find out if you have any on you first," Clark half-joked.

"Why? Will I need it?" To his credit, he didn’t reach for the utility belt and the lead-lined pouch that Clark knew contained a kryptonite ring.

"You might not like what I have to say." Clark scratched behind his ear. This whole thing made him uncomfortable. With anyone else, he’d consider this progress for his friend. A sign that maybe Bruce could move past the cave and the cowl and the unhappiness.

"I already know what you have to say."

Clark crossed his arms. "I doubt it."

"Did you forget who you're talking to again?" The tools clinked against the work surface as Bruce set them down. He seemed satisfied with his repair job, because he moved onto the next piece.

"Was that a joke?"

Bruce grunted.

Clark didn't bother waiting for his full attention. Anyone who knew Bruce just accepted the fact that half of his brain was always working on something even in the middle of a conversation.

"It's about Selina."

Bruce didn't even blink. "Can you hand me that wrench?"

"Are you sure about this?" Clark continued, handing him the tool. He leaned back against the work table. "With her history...she's a thief, Bruce."

"And your point is?"

"I don't trust her."

"Lucky for all of us that you're not the one marrying her, then." Bruce finished fiddling with the wrench, setting it aside as he laid open one of his gauntlets. He picked up a soft cloth lying nearby and began to clean the inside.

"I'm serious.” He laid a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, but his friend shrugged it off. “How do you know she's in this for the right reasons?"

Bruce paused. "Just what are you insinuating?"

"You're Bruce Wayne." Clark waved his hand at Bruce. "And she's Catwoman. I don't think she could find a bigger score."

"Contrary to popular belief, I’m not the richest man in the world.” The temperature around them dropped with each clipped word. Bruce paused. He frowned at the gauntlet. “That would be your friend Lex.”

“He’s not my—” Clark sighed. Bruce was the most stubborn, pig-headed person he’d ever met.

“Besides, if Selina wanted my fortune, she wouldn’t need to marry me.”

“Feeling altruistic?”

Bruce shook his head. “I haven’t met a security system yet that she couldn’t get inside.”

“Bruce…she’s killed people. Hundreds of people.”

“It wasn’t her,” Bruce said, bending down to inspect a circuit in the glove.

“And you know that how?”

“Because she told me, Clark.” He pursed his lips together, his brow furrowing. “Someone she cared about was involved. Selina took the fall.”

Clark crossed his arms. Of all the people he knew, Bruce had always been the hardest to read. But certain things couldn’t be hidden. Like a heartbeat. And his hadn’t stuttered since Clark entered the cave. Bruce wasn’t lying. But that didn’t mean he knew the truth.

“And you believe her?”

The gauntlet hit the counter as Bruce turned on him. “I trust her.”

Clark blinked.

“Selina isn’t a killer. She may be many other things, but that is not one of them.” He picked his tools back up, returning to quietly tinkering with the instrument panel. “I know her, Clark, and more importantly, she knows me. She knows the worst about me and she still… has my back.”

There was something unspoken in that statement, a skip in his steady rhythm that said there was something else he’d almsot said. Before Clark could dig further though, he heard another sound.

“What is it?” Bruce asked.

“Engine.”

“Motorcycle?”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Oh, do you have super-hearing now too?”

“Kent.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Selina’s the only one not home.” He jerked his chin at the platform full of vehicles. All of them lined up neatly in their designated spaces. There was a conspicuous space between two of the bikes.

A moment later, the motorcycle’s growl filled the cave, the noise reaching into the furthest recesses. Catwoman cut the engine and coasted into the empty space. Bruce set down the tools he’d been tinkering with. And there it was, another skip, his pulse speeding up. Down on the roundabout, a different heartbeat answered in kind as Selina caught Bruce’s eye. A different person might have missed the subtle glance in Clark’s direction as she pushed her goggles and hood away from her face. Clark didn’t.

He started rethinking a lot of things.

“Hello, boys,” Selina said as she ascended the stairs. “Social call? Or is something nefarious afoot?”

“Social call,” Clark replied.

“You’re late,” Bruce said.

“Oh.” She grinned at him, carefully moving aside pieces of an armored panel as she took a seat on the counter. Bruce didn’t even sigh. She bumped his arm with her knee. “Were you worried?”

“Of course not.”

“Yes he was!” Dick called from inside the locker room. He emerged, toweling off his hair. He looked far more comfortable with the scene before him than Clark was. He sauntered over, leaning on the opposite side of the counter. “As evidenced by the fact that he’s still up…”

Selina snorted. “That’s hardly proof of anything. There are vampires that go to bed earlier than Bruce does.”

Dick considered this statement for a moment. “True. But he’s also tinkering. That’s what the fourth time you’ve been over all of this?”

“I missed corroded circuit.”

“Uh huh.” Pointedly ignoring the way Bruce’s hand moved from the table to Selina’s knee, Dick said, “Well, he’s not going to ask, but I’m curious…you run into trouble tonight?”

“Aw, were you worried about me too, Baby Bird?” She leaned back to ruffle his hair as Dick batted her hand away. “Nothing exciting. Harley and Ivy ambushed me...” Selina chuckled when Bruce stepped back, a look of concern on his face. She ran a hand over his shoulder. “Not that kind of ambush, Bat. Relax. They wanted to discuss a bachelorette party. Don’t worry, I told them someone else was handling it.”

Clark snorted. “I’d hate to see what Harley Quinn’s idea of a bachelorette looked like.”

“Most likely?” Selina shrugged. “A trip to the toy store and a night at some amusement park. Ivy’s the one you’d really need to worry about.”

“Yep.” Dick pick up a screwdriver and absently twirled it. “Her idea of fun usually involves drugging half of Gotham’s male population.”

“And ecoterrorism.”

Hew smacked himself on the forehead. “How could I forget the ecoterrorism?”

“She’s probably whammied you one too many times,” Selina shot back. She sighed. “Honestly, I’m having more trouble with…” She stopped, her eyes darting to Dick as she reconsidered what she was about to say. “The Birds. They apparently think it’s silly to wait until after I’m cleared of murder charges to go dress shopping.”

Clark tilted his head. “I assume we’re not talking about the Hitchcock movie.”

“The Birds of Prey,” Dick said softly. “Batgirl’s group. Selina works with them sometimes.”

Selina and Bruce exchanged a look.

Clark decided not to ask.

“Speaking of work…” Selina tapped the bandage wrapped around Bruce’s arm with one clawed finger. “I thought we agreed you weren’t getting shot again this week.”

“I believe the word I used was ‘try’.” Bruce reached up for her hand, pulling it away and lacing his fingers with hers. “It’s just a graze. It’s fine.”

“You’re not the only one that worries, you know.”

“I know.”

Clark got the distinct feeling that his presence had been forgotten.

Dick felt the same way, apparently, because he cleared his throat. Loudly. “Sometimes, I miss the days when you sent me to get evidence before you two got all touchy feely. And, yes, the double meaning was intentional.”

Selina laughed and the spell was broken. Both Clark and Dick let out a sigh of relief.

She leaned in, kissing Bruce on the cheek before hopping off the counter. “Well, I am off to bed. Some of us need our sleep to stay in a good mood.”

“Oh, is that Bruce’s problem?” Clark asked. He raised one eyebrow. “He’s sleep-deprivation makes him cranky.”

Dick muttered something that sounded like, “Hell, yes.”

Selina shrugged, a sly smile on her face. “I only know of one thing that improves Bruce’s mood.”

Clark braced himself. With this group, he should have known better than to ask.

“Justice,” Selina and Dick said at the same time. They hit the inflection perfectly.

Bruce shook his head with a sigh, but Clark caught a twitch at the corner of his mouth that could almost be called a smile. Dick held his hand up, leaning over the table and meeting Selina’s palm with a satisfying smack.

“You two are ridiculous,” Bruce grumbled.

“And you love it.”

Bruce didn’t reply, but as Selina brushed past him, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll be up as soon as I finish repairing this.”

She smiled, a soft, private smile and returned the gesture.

He watched as she took the stairs up to the manor, waiting until she was out of sight before he returned to his work.

Dick sighed. “You two are lucky you’re so adorable. Or I would complain. G’night, Blue.”

His footsteps echoed as he tread up the stairs, his towel slung over his shoulder. He was whistling.

Silence stretched between Clark and Bruce, broken only by the occasional clack of Bruce setting a tool down as he worked the circuit away from the hardened material.

“She really loves you, doesn’t she?” Clark said. He leaned against the table, his eyes on his friend.

“Does that surprise you?”

“Not as much as you loving her surprises me.” He held up a hand to cut Bruce off before he protested, but he’d forgotten who he was talking to again. Bruce never wasted words proving someone wrong when he could use actions. “Don’t get me wrong, I always knew you had it in you, but I never thought you’d allow yourself to feel that way about anyone.”

Bruce smiled that half smile again. “I’m not sure it’s anything I allowed to happen…it just…I belonged to her before I even knew what had happened.”

“Dear Rao, you’re practically gushing. Who thought I’d live to see the day that Batman was reduced to a lovestruck swain.” Clark grinned. He had never been more pleased to be proved wrong.

“Is there a point to this, Clark?”

Clark clapped his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, gently. “How crucial is it that that circuit get repaired right now?”

“It’s crucial that all my gear be in working order when I’m on patrol,” Bruce said darkly.

“Life is short, Bruce. This can wait until later.” He didn’t wait to see if Bruce would take his advice. It was high time he headed home himself.

After all, life was short.

[lesbianrewrites]

Blood of Olympus - Chapter 58

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page. This is a Lesbian edit of The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. This is the final chapter of Lesbians of Olympus, thanks for reading! Tomorrow’s update at 10am EST will be a link to the full edit. Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

LORENA WAS DEAD.

She knew that with absolute certainty. She just didn’t understand why it hurt so much. She felt like every cell in her body had exploded. Now her consciousness was trapped inside a charred crispy husk of demigod roadkill. The nausea was worse than any carsickness she’d ever had. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t see or hear. She could only feel pain.

She started to panic, thinking maybe this was her eternal punishment.

Then somebody put jumper cables on her brain and restarted her life.

She gasped and sat up.

The first thing she felt was the wind in her face, then the searing pain in her right arm. She was still on Festus’s back, still in the air. Her eyes started to work again, and she noticed the large hypodermic needle retracting from her forearm. The empty injector buzzed, whirred and retreated into a panel on Festus’s neck.

‘Thanks, buddy.’ Lorena groaned. ‘Man, being dead sucked. But that physician’s cure? That stuff is worse.’

Festus clicked and clattered in Morse code.

‘No, man, I’m not serious,’ Lorena said. ‘I’m glad to be alive. And, yeah, I love you too. You did awesome.’

A metallic purr ran the length of the dragon’s body.

First things first: Lorena scanned the dragon for signs of damage. Festus’s wings were working properly, though his left medius membrane was shot full of holes. His neck plating was partially fused, melted from the explosion, but the dragon didn’t seem to be in danger of crashing immediately.

Lorena tried to remember what had happened. She was pretty sure she had defeated Gaia, but she had no idea how her friends were doing back at Camp Half-Blood. Hopefully Jessica and Piper had got clear of the blast. Lorena had a weird memory of a missile hurtling towards her and screaming like a little girl … what the heck had that been about?

Once she landed, she’d have to check Festus’s underbelly. The most serious damage would probably be in that area, where the dragon had courageously grappled with Gaia while they blowtorched the sludge out of her. There was no telling how long Festus had been aloft. He’d need to set down soon.

Which raised the question: where were they?

Below was a solid white blanket of clouds. The sun shone directly overhead in a brilliant blue sky. So it was about noon … but of which day? How long had Lorena been dead?

She opened the access panel in Festus’s neck. The astrolabe was humming away, the crystal pulsing like a neon heart. Lorena checked her compass and GPS, and a grin spread across her face.

‘Festus, good news!’ she shouted. ‘Our navigation readings are completely messed up!’

Festus said, Creak?

‘Yeah! Descend! Get us below these clouds and maybe –’

The dragon plummeted so fast that the breath was sucked out of Lorena’s lungs.

They broke through the blanket of white and there, below them, was a single green island in a vast blue sea.

Lorena whooped so loudly they probably heard her in China. ‘YEAH! WHO DIED? WHO CAME BACK? WHO’S YOUR FREAKIN’ SUPERSIZED McSHIZZLE NOW, BABY? WOOOOOOOO!’

They spiralled towards Ogygia, the warm wind in Lorena’s hair. She realized her clothes were in tatters, despite the magic they’d been woven with. Her arms were covered in a fine layer of soot, like she’d just died in a massive fire … which, of course, she had.

But she couldn’t worry about any of that.

Calypso was standing on the beach, wearing jeans and a white blouse, her amber hair pulled back.

Festus spread his wings and landed with a stumble. Apparently one of his legs was broken. The dragon pitched sideways and catapulted Lorena face-first into the sand.

So much for a heroic entrance.

Lorena spat a piece of seaweed out of her mouth. Festus dragged himself down the beach, made clacking noises that meant Ow, ow, ow.

Lorena looked up. Calypso stood over her, her arms crossed, her eyebrows arched.

‘You’re late,’ she announced. Her eyes gleamed.

‘Sorry, Sunshine,’ Lorena said. ‘Traffic was murder.’

‘You are covered with soot,’ she noted. ‘And you managed to ruin the clothes I made for you, which were impossible to ruin.’

‘Well, you know.’ Lorena shrugged. Somebody had released a hundred pachinko balls in her chest. ‘I’m all about doing the impossible.’

Calypsi offered her hand and helped her up. They stood nose to nose as she studied Lorena’s condition. She smelled like cinnamon. Had she always had that tiny freckle next to her left eye? Lorena really wanted to touch it.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘You smell –’

‘I know. Like I’ve been dead. Probably because I have been. Oath to keep with a final breath and all, but I’m better now –’

She stopped her with a kiss.

The pachinko balls slammed around inside her. She felt so happy she had to make a conscious effort not to burst into flames.

When Calypso finally let her go, her face was covered in soot smudges. She didn’t seem to care. She traced her thumb across her cheekbone.

‘Lorena Valdez,’ she said.

Nothing else – just her name, as if it were something magical.

‘That’s me,’ she said, her voice ragged. ‘So, um … you want to get off this island?’

Calypso stepped back. She raised one hand and the winds swirled. Her invisible servants brought two suitcases and set them at her feet. ‘What gave you that idea?’

Lorena grinned. ‘Packed for a long trip, huh?’

‘I don’t plan on coming back.’ Calypso glanced over her shoulder, at the path that led to her garden and her cavern home. ‘Where will you take me, Lorena?’

‘Somewhere to fix my dragon, first,’ she decided. ‘And then … wherever you want. How long was I gone, seriously?’

‘Time is difficult on Ogygia,’ Calypso said. ‘It felt like forever.’

Lorena had a stab of doubt. She hoped her friends were okay. She hoped a hundred years hadn’t passed while she was flying around dead and Festus searched for Ogygia.

She would have to find out. She needed to let Jessica and Piper and the others know she was okay. But right now … priorities. Calypso was a priority.

‘So once you leave Ogygia,’ she said, ‘do you stay immortal or what?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘And you’re okay with that?’

‘More than okay.’

‘Well, then!’ She turned towards her dragon. ‘Buddy, you up for another flight to nowhere in particular?’

Festus blew fire and limped around.

‘So we take off with no plan,’ Calypso said. ‘No idea where we’ll go or what problems await beyond this island. Many questions and no tidy answers?’

Lorena turned up her palms. ‘That’s how I fly, Sunshine. Can I get your bags?’

‘Absolutely.’

Five minutes later, with Calypso’s arms around her waist, Lorena spurred Festus into flight. The bronze dragon spread his wings, and they soared into the unknown.

[lesbianrewrites]

Blood of Olympus - Chapter 54

*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page. This is a Lesbian edit of The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. Chapters will be posted every day at 10am EST. Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!

THE NEXT DAY, THERE WEREN’T MANY ANSWERS.

After the explosion, Piper and Jessica – free-falling and unconscious – were plucked out of the sky by giant eagles and brought to safety, but Lorena did not reappear. The entire Hephaestus cabin scoured the valley, finding bits and pieces of the Argo II’s broken hull, but no sign of Festus the dragon or his mistress.

All the monsters had been destroyed or scattered. Greek and Roman casualties were heavy, but not nearly as bad as they might have been.

Overnight, the satyrs and nymphs disappeared into the woods for a convocation of the Cloven Elders. In the morning, Grover Underwood reappeared to announce that they could not sense the Earth Mother’s presence. Nature was more or less back to normal. Apparently, Jessica, Piper and Lorena’s plan had worked. Gaia had been separated from her source of power, charmed to sleep and then atomized in the combined explosion of Lorena’s fire and Octavian’s man-made comet.

An immortal could never die, but now Gaia would be like her husband, Ouranos. The earth would continue to function as normal, just as the sky did, but Gaia was now so dispersed and powerless that she could never again form a consciousness.

At least, that was the hope …

Octavian would be remembered for saving Rome by hurling himself into the sky in a fiery ball of death. But it was Lorena Valdez who had made the real sacrifice.

The victory celebration at camp was muted, due to grief – not just for Lorena but also for the many others who had died in battle. Shrouded demigods, both Greek and Roman, were burned at the campfire, and Chiron asked Nicola to oversee the burial rites.

Nicola agreed immediately. She was grateful for the opportunity to honour the dead. Even the hundreds of spectators didn’t bother her.

The hardest part was afterwards, when Nicola and the six demigods from the Argo II met on the porch of the Big House.

Jessica hung her head, even her glasses lost in shadow. ‘We should have been there at the end. We could’ve helped Lorena.’

‘It’s not right,’ Piper agreed, wiping away her tears. ‘All that work getting the physician’s cure, for nothing.’

Hazel broke down crying. ‘Piper, where’s the cure? Bring it out.’

Bewildered, Piper reached into her belt pouch. She produced the chamois-cloth package, but when she unfolded the cloth it was empty.

All eyes turned to Hazel.

‘How?’ Annabeth asked.

Frances put her arm around Hazel. ‘In Delos, Lorena pulled the two of us aside. She pleaded with us to help her.’

Through her tears, Hazel explained how she had switched the physician’s cure for an illusion – a trick of the Mist – so that Lorena could keep the real vial. Frances told them about Lorena’s plan to destroy a weakened Gaia with one massive fiery explosion. After talking with Nike and Apollo, Lorena had been certain that such an explosion would kill any mortal within a quarter of a mile, so she knew she would have to get far away from everyone.

‘She wanted to do it alone,’ Frances said. ‘She thought there would be a slim chance that she, a daughter of Hephaestus, could survive the fire, but if anyone was with her … She said that Hazel and I, being Roman, would understand about sacrifice. But she knew the rest of you would never allow it.’

At first the others looked angry, like they wanted to scream and throw things. But, as Frances and Hazel talked, the group’s rage seemed to dissipate. It was hard to be mad at Frances and Hazel when they were both crying. Also … the plan sounded exactly like the sneaky, twisted, ridiculously annoying and noble sort of thing Lorena Valdez would do.

Finally Piper let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. ‘If she were here right now, I would kill her. How was she planning to take the cure? She was alone!’

‘Maybe she found a way,’ Penny said. ‘This is Lorena we’re talking about. She might come back any minute. Then we can take turns strangling her.’

Nicola and Hazel exchanged looks. They both knew better, but they said nothing.

The next day, the second since the battle, Romans and Greeks worked side by side to clean up the warzone and tend the wounded. Blackjack the pegasus was recovering nicely from his arrow wound. Guido had decided to adopt Reyna as his human. Reluctantly, Lou Ellen had agreed to turn her new pet piglets back into Romans.

Jill Solace hadn’t spoken with Nicola since the encounter at the onager. The daughter of Apollo spent most of her time in the infirmary, but whenever Nicola saw her running across camp to fetch more medical supplies, or make a house call on some wounded demigod, she felt a strange twinge of melancholy. No doubt Jill Solace thought Nicola was a monster now, for letting Octavian kill himself.

The Romans bivouacked next to the strawberry fields, where they insisted on building their standard field camp. The Greeks pitched in to help them raise the earthen walls and dig the trenches. Nicola had never seen anything stranger or cooler. Dakota shared Kool-Aid with the kids from the Dionysus cabin. The children of Hermes and Mercury laughed and told stories and brazenly stole things from just about everyone. Reyna, Annabeth and Piper were inseparable, roaming the camp as a trio to check on the progress of the repairs. Chiron, escorted by Frances and Hazel, inspected the Roman troops and praised them for their bravery.

By evening, the general mood had improved somewhat. The dining hall pavilion had never been so crowded. The Romans were welcomed like old friends. Coach Hedge roamed among the demigods, beaming and holding his baby boy and saying, ‘Hey, you want to meet Chuck? This is my boy, Chuck!’

The Aphrodite and Athena girls alike cooed over the feisty little satyr baby, who waved his pudgy fists, kicked his tiny hooves and bleated, ‘Baaaa! Baaaa!’

Clarisse, who had been named the baby’s godmother, trailed behind the coach like a bodyguard and occasionally muttered, ‘All right, all right. Give the kid some space.’

At announcement time, Chiron stepped forward and raised his goblet.

‘Out of every tragedy,’ he said, ‘comes new strength. Today, we thank the gods for this victory. To the gods!’

The demigods all joined the toast, but their enthusiasm seemed muted. Nicola understood the feeling: We saved the gods again, and now we’re supposed to thank them?

Then Chiron said, ‘And to new friends!’

‘TO NEW FRIENDS!’

Hundreds of demigod voices echoed across the hills.

At the campfire, everyone kept looking at the stars, as if they expected Lorena to come back in some dramatic, last-minute surprise. Maybe she’d swoop in, jump off Festus’s back and launch into corny jokes. It didn’t happen.

After a few songs, Reyna and Frances were called to the front. They got a thunderous round of applause from both the Greeks and Romans. Up on Half-Blood Hill, the Athena Parthenos glowed more brightly in moonlight, as if to signal: These kids are all right.

‘Tomorrow,’ Reyna said, ‘we Romans must return home. We appreciate your hospitality, especially since we almost killed you –’

‘You almost got killed,’ Annabeth corrected.

‘Whatever, Chase.’

Oooooohhhhh! the crowd said as one. Then everybody started laughing and pushing each other around. Even Nicola had to smile.

‘Anyway,’ Frances took over, ‘Reyna and I agree this marks a new era of friendship between the camps.’

Reyna clapped her on the back. ‘That’s right. For hundreds of years, the gods tried to separate us to keep us from fighting. But there’s a better kind of peace – cooperation.’

Piper stood up from the audience. ‘Are you sure your mom is a war goddess?’

‘Yes, McLean,’ Reyna said. ‘I still intend to fight a lot of battles. But from now on we fight together!’

That got a big cheer.

Zhang raised her hand for quiet. ‘You’ll all be welcome at Camp Jupiter. We’ve come to an agreement with Chiron: a free exchange between the camps – weekend visits, training programmes and, of course, emergency aid in times of need –’

‘And parties?’ asked Dakota.

‘Hear, hear!’ said Conner Stoll.

Reyna spread her arms. ‘That goes without saying. We Romans invented parties.’

Another big Oooohhhhhhhh!

‘So thank you,’ Reyna concluded. ‘All of you. We could’ve chosen hatred and war. Instead we found acceptance and friendship.’

Then she did something so unexpected Nicola would later think she dreamed it. She walked up to Nicola, who was standing to one side in the shadows, as usual. She grabbed her hand and pulled her gently into the firelight.

‘We had one home,’ she said. ‘Now we have two.’

She gave Nicola a big hug and the crowd roared with approval. For once, Nicola didn’t feel like pulling away. She buried her face in Reyna’s shoulder and blinked the tears out of her eyes.