#it can only end in disaster I think the twins would get along well enough with the other two but if push comes to shove. Yikes.

[breitzbachbea]

Me thinking of Massoud when I listen to Dussmann + the 'God only needed 6 days for all of this and one can see it' makes me think of the Sure that is still up on the pillar in front of the Palermo Cathedral. How do I get my Austrians to Palermo.

[wishful-thinking64]

One Hell of an Unpopular Opinion #03

Characters like Barbie Wire, Chaz, Crimson, Octavia, and Stella only exist as plot devices to garner sympathy for other characters. _______ I knew fully well that Chaz and Crimson were going to merely be plot devices for Moxxie the more I watched Exes & Oohs. And sure enough, Chaz was killed at the end of that very episode and Crimson is yet another wacky cartoon villain that the narrative expects for you to take seriously. Both of these characters existed so that the audience could gain sympathy (or at least pity) for Moxxie being raised in a Mafia family and having been abused as a child along with being betrayed by his ex-boyfriend (who also happened to be Millie's ex-boyfriend for some reason.) Other than Moxxie's Mafia family upbringing making zero sense the more you think about it, Viv has basically done this exact backstory before in the form of Angel Dust (with the whole mobster backstory who was also abused by his father.) However, the Exes & Oohs episode and title actually stems from one of the HH mockup episodes that was originally about Charlie and Vaggie coming across Charlie's ex, Seviathan (yes, that's what Viv named him), and his sister, Helsa, while they were at a dinner party.

Now, do I think Chaz and Crimson could've had the potential to be good characters? In all honesty, no. Especially not Chaz. The guy is a harmful stereotype of pansexual people and how, "They'll sleep with anyone," which no, they won't. I'm not pansexual myself but that thought process is as gross as it is fucking stupid. The only person who I've seen even re-writing Chaz has been Loves Art23 (I mainly know her for YouTube videos being critical on Hazbin Hotel + Helluva Boss along with other shows like the disaster known as High Guardian Spice) and I think she's done a fairly good job so kudos to her for making him work. Personally, though I'm scrapping him as that gives me one less character to worry about when re-writing HB. Crimson would have to be heavily and I mean HEAVILY reworked/re-written in order for him to make any actual sense. That and I'm tired of every character having some variation of the same daddy issues in the Hellaverse. Which means he's also gonna get axed from me. Moving onto the ladies I mentioned, let's start off with Barbie Wire.

Having been foreshadowed since the pilot of I.M.P. (as seen when Tilla was still Barb's and Blitzo's older sister rather than their mother) Barbie Wire was an anticipated character by fans for years! And then her actual appearance finally happened in Unhappy Campers, an episode hated by practically everyone who saw it, and no one really cared about her showing up, other than the fact that the writers thought that having her seduce a BARELY legal adult would make for a good joke, when in reality, it only made everybody uncomfortable and several people dislike Barbie because of it. Sure, near the end of the episode she had that "emotional" scene with Blitzo that wants the viewers to feel bad for him and Barbie before she left but in the long run it didn't matter as fans barely even talk about it because of how uneventful it truly was. So, with that out of the way, would I keep Barbie Wire around for a rewrite of HB? To that I say, yes! There are several paths Barbie Wire's overall character could go in. If you're mainly sticking to canon, then what you have to work with is a former circus performer who lost her mother in a fire caused by her twin brother that left his own best friend to rot and be disabled for the rest of his life. It's very likely that this very fire, caused her to be out of a job and probably even homeless for a bit which could explain why she ended up becoming both a drug attic and a drug dealer. Homelessness is one of the few things that nobody wants to experience. It causes people to be filled with a sense of overwhelming loneliness and desperation as many of them either believe that there's nothing they can do or they do anything and everything that they can to get out of it even if that means resorting to crime. If you wanted to have her be loosely based on canon instead, you could make it to where she never learned about who started the fire and actually stuck with Blitzo well into adulthood. Have her become one of the members of I.M.P. and later down the line have her learn through someone like Fizz or maybe Cash (her and Blitzo's father) what actually went down that day. Have her be rightfully pissed off at Blitzo for screwing over multiple people along with being the one responsible for killing their mom. Anyway, let's proceed onto Stella and her daughter Octavia.

As much as the narrative wants me to hate Stella with a burning passion cause she hurts Stolas, I can't do it for multiple reasons but I'll list my top three. #01.) Stella's just as (if not even more so) stuck in this arranged loveless marriage as Stolas is. #02.) If the man I had no choice in marrying not only cheated on me with a man from one of the lowest classes in all of Hell but IN OUR OWN HOME & SHARED BEDROOM NO LESS? OH, FUCK NO!

#03.) This woman had to spend 9 months having to nourish and care for a baby inside her stomach that she had with a man that didn't even want to sleep with her. On top of that, she had to have become pregnant with Octavia when she was a young adult since current day Stolas and Stella are only in their mid 30s. I need you to let that information sink in.

In short, I can't hate Stella for loathing Viv's pathetic self insert bird twink with every fiber of her being.

Having said that, would I have Stella in my HB rewrite? Well, considering that I plan on keeping the war that happened in the bible that caused Lucifer and several angels to fall from grace, one of which being Stolas. Kind of. Allow me to elaborate, I would keep Stella as Octavia's mother but I wouldn't have her marry Stolas. I'd have her be a surrogate mother that way Stolas still gets an heir and Octavia could still exist. Speaking of Octavia...

We all know that she exists to make Stolas look like a better person as several stans of this show love to say how much of a good dad Stolas is when he isn't. He neglects Octavia frequently in favor of Blitzo and only pays attention to her when she's gone although EVEN THAT doesn't last long as shown in Seeing Stars where HE KNEW Octavia was missing on Earth but rather than ACTIVELY look for his daughter, what does he do? HE SITS THROUGH A STUPID LIVE COMEDY SHOW CAUSE BLITZO IS PERFORMING! HE COMPLETELY SIDELINES HIS OWN DAUGHTER IN FAVOR OF A LIVE COMEDY SHOW!

God, Octavia deserves so much better than to have a dad like him. I'm keeping Octavia for my HB rewrite so that this poor girl not only realizes how much of a bastard her dad is but eventually gets the found family she deserves. I don't plan for it to be through I.M.P. though. In closing, the characters of this show deserve to be better developed but especially the women in them.

_______

That was a long one to get through cause it's been on my mind for a while. Thank you all for reading through it and bye for now everybody!

[femboyhorror]

🌲 pines family headcanons ✨ click the read more for more in-depth headcanon stuff!

this started out as a little silly edit of ford, then i decided to do one for stan as well and once that happened i knew i had to do edits for the pines twins as well. i might end up doing others like soos, wendy and pacifica but for now we have the main four pines.

🌲 dipper has glasses but prefers not to wear them. he thinks they look nerdy but wears them more often with the support of mabel and his grunkles. 🌲 bisexual disaster. 🌲 dipper will always be a transboy in my head. struggled with gaining acceptance from his parents but knows he always has a place where he can be himself in gravity falls. 🌲 CW SELF HARM IMPLIED: his dysphoria and dissociation from his body ends up worse for a while after sock opera. for a while turns to… not so great methods to remind himself that his body is his own. 🌲 became clingy after weirdmageddon, either clinging to his sister and grunkles before going back to piedmont or just staying by mabel's side often after. 🌲 probably has pierced ears but would wear very subtle earrings, to mabel's displeasure.

🌠 big decora kei vibes. so many stickers and hair pins. she also will often wear mismatched socks! 🌠 is the one to suggest she and dipper get a matching hair streak. blue was the only color dipper would agree to. 🌠 mabel gives me big pansexual vibes. starts to discover her own identity around the time dipper does, and ends up dating candy and/or grenda for a hot minute. 🌠 wholly supported dipper when he came out as a transboy and was his biggest ally growing up. 🌠 after weirdmageddon she asks ford for drawing lessons. the two bond over arts and crafts. 🌠 CW MILD ED suffers from a sort of survivor's guilt after weirdmageddon, guilt over being tricked by bill and almost staying in mabeland manifesting mostly in the form of being a people pleaser, forgetting to eat and sleep. the other pines thankfully notice this and put a stop to it.

🎣 i love long haired stan. i like to imagine after the series the guy feels comfortable enough to grow his hair out again. 🎣 stretched earlobes! 🎣 is a transman and also gnc as hell. he also is insanely good at using makeup. (dipper and ford don't really use makeup and mabel just likes to be Silly with makeup.) 🎣 (tbh i can also imagine stanley as being transfeminine as well, they're just That Gender.) 🎣 as soon as mabel saw his "glorious mane" she was practically begging him to let her braid it. he pretends to just go along with it for her sake but he secretly loves having her do his hair. 🎣 the adhd to ford's autism. he definitely suffers hard from rejection sensitive dysphoria and tends to panic if it seems like someone is upset with him. (i.e. ford confronting him over the broken machine, mabel upset with him for lying in the land before swine.)

✋ his sweater is a huge comfort for him. in general he likes heavier clothes to ground him. ✋ i like to imagine him with plenty of earrings and tattoos. earrings mainly themed around space and stars and ends up getting some tattos on his wrists to cover the burn scars from weirdmageddon. ✋ a touch of the tism. has a hard time distinguishing tone. (i.e. not being able to tell if wendy was complimenting him ironically or not.) ✋ while he doesn't mind if people see him as a man, he himself doesn't feel all that attached to the idea of being male. fine with any pronouns but probably likes to use neopronouns. (maybe star/starself?) ✋ achillean, mainly attracted to enbies and men. tried to date a few girls growing up to try and be "normal" (comphet's a binch) but at around high school enough bad experiences made him avoid dating for a while. ✋ he loves loves loves space and astronomy! it's sort of his hyperfixation. used to name constellations with stanley while spending nights on the stan o war and they bond over this on the stan o war ii!

[silverloreley]

Hey, Hope ya doing well. Do you have any headcanons about Gil?- @descendants-extended

Not many, but I do have some.

His full name is Gilbert Charles LeGume, picked by his mother. Gilbert like Lafayette, and Charles like the pirate Charles Vane. His mom chose that before Gaston could call him Gaston Fourth or something.

In one of the books, Gil talks about his father's wife and not a mom, implying that his mother is not married to Gaston. Either she isn't around anymore, or simply he's a bastard son. I tend to prefer the second idea and I think Gil's mother is a pirate (not of Hook's crew) who had a brief relationship with Gaston.

He cares a lot for his mom, although he has to use his father's reputation as he's the famous one. On the Isle, it's an unspoken rule that children are akin to a property of their parents, and damaging a kid invokes the wrath of the parent. The more important/strong/powerful the parent is, the more protection (real or perceived) the kid has. Also, the more prominent parents have the right to choose to take their kids in to raise or not, no matter what the other parent thinks. Therefore, Gil grew up with Gaston, even if his mother would have kept him with her.

Gaston isn't the type who wouldn't cheat, in fact, I believe he has several children scattered around the Isle, but he only recognized (in the legal sense of the term) the sons who were most like him or were strong enough, and none of the daughters. Gil happened to be born a rather sturdy boy and Gaston called dibs on him. Therefore, Gil isn't sure how many siblings he has, the only ones he's sure about are his brothers. He doesn't get along with them, especially with the twins, as they tend to remind him he's a bastard and like to bully him.

He does get along marginally better with his stepmother (one of the bimbettes), if only for the fact she sees Gaston's sons as an extension of him and thinks it's her duty to take care of them equally.

So, Gil's mother not only chose his name but took care of him for as long as she could hide him from Gaston (until Gil turned two) and still does by teaching him sword-fighting and other pirating stuff that ended up being useful when he joined Uma's crew.

After Gaston took him in, Gil only managed to see his mother again when he was about six and was allowed to roam around the Isle like the other kids, after which she found him. They have a great relationship and Gil doesn't resent her in the slightest, understanding all too well the situation on the Isle.

His himbo energy and brain-emptiness are genuine, no doubt. That doesn't mean he's stupid (unlike some of his brothers), it means he has more emotional intelligence and practical skills than else, he tends to reason in literal terms and forget things easily, which leads people to think he's an idiot.

He likes hunting as a sport, but only if he doesn't have to kill the animal (or person. yeah, that's a thing on the Isle), as for him it's all about the thrill of the chase and capture and once the game is over he'd let the prey get away free. His father calls him a weakling for that, but Gil learned not to care.

He thinks of his strength as a means to an end, not as a value on its own. He's happy he's strong because he can fight and move stuff easily and be useful for his friends and crew, but doesn't have any insane pride over it.

He can flirt but, for the life of his, he can't tell when others are interested in him for real. Harry is the one who gives him pointers, usually. (This doesn't work that well because Harry is a disaster at it too)

He doesn't care much about living on the Isle or elsewhere: as long as he doesn't have to be in close proximity with his brothers and possibly away from his father, he's happy anywhere. Still, he supports Uma's plans and wishes as she's the captain and a good one at it (this is one of his mom's teachings: good captains have to be followed loyally, bad captains deserve mutiny. He isn't really sure what makes a bad captain, though, but Uma is surely a good one)

Once out, he and Jay went exploring the world as planned. Jay helped him get better at writing so he could write to Uma, Harry, and to his mom. When he came back, he simply reprised his explorations, but with Uma's crew.

People think he's naive. He isn't. He just prefers to keep things simple and it's actually hard to fool him when it comes to deals and negotiations. He tends to ask lots of questions that unnerve the other party until they spill the truth, although he asks them to understand things, it's very useful not to get scammed. He gets even better at it after his trip with Jay.

He didn't really connect that the High King and the Beast from his father's story are the same person until he got older. Even so, he has no animosity toward Ben and his family. Not at all. He always suspected his dad's version of the story didn't add up and thinks both Gaston and the Beast were in the wrong and should have let Belle choose, perhaps after a fair fistfight.

He hates the taste of alcohol. Some find it weird, but since it was the most healthy thing to drink they had around, he sort of finds it boring and prefers to try different beverages. Sodas are his faves, but clean water is a strong contender.

He'd like to find out who are his sisters and convince Uma to add them to the crew. Little does he know that there is already one of them on the Lost Revenge (in my headcanon, it's Desiree).

Okay, I had more than I thought, LOL

[felixcloud6288]

Higurashi: Eye Opening Final Chapter

Shion's notebook is a giant mindscrew when you think about it. Previous arcs have ended in a way that implies the arc is a recounting of events that are a mix of what the writers know along with additional details to show where some of those investigations are wrong.

Abducted by Demons and Cotton Drifting are investigative reports into the murders Keiichi and Mion committed respectively.

Curse Killing is a recording of an interview with Keiichi after the Hinamizawa Disaster.

Time Killing is a book Akasaka and Ooishi put together about the mysteries of Hinamizawa.

Beyond Midnight is an article Arakawa made for a magazine.

But Eye Opening is Shion's notebook. We can assume it contains all the thoughts she's made over the course of this arc, but now the question is "When did she take the time to write all this?"

Ooishi says the last line of the notebook is "I'm sorry for being born." And that is the last line of the whole arc, but Shion's dead at that point.

The dates given for everyone's deaths brings up an amazing hint to the greater mystery of Oyashiro-sama's curse and the Great Hinamizawa Disaster that I plan to make part of the recap of this arc, so look forward to that.

She said they were always both Mion and Shion. They always shared everything until that day when her little sister was forced to be "Mion". Then Shion took "Mion" back and tore her to pieces until she was nothing more than a murderer. Then she took "Shion", skinned her and dropped the rest down a well.

She once again is both Mion and Shion, but she's really just the broken pieces that make up Mion Sonozaki, wearing Shion's skin. She's a murderer haunted by a vengeful ghost.

And Mion calls her out for breaking another promise. She promised she'd kill herself after killing Mion, but she's reneged on that promise.

Mion's hands got swapped partway through that one page. The first hand that crawls out of the covers is her left hand. And the index and middle fingers are rotting and missing their nails while the pinky finger nail is still attached but partially ripped off.

Then in the next panel, we see Mion's right hand and it has the exact same details on each equivalent finger. And it's not because her hands have matching damage. In the next panel, we see both hands. Her right hand is missing the nail on the index finger, but the left hand still has it but has lost the nail on the ring finger.

I'm moving on. Staring at Mion's fingers is giving me genuine nausea.

Shion seriously decided to kill Keiichi just to spite Mion.

When she woke up from her fall, Shion's hair had come loose. She's managed to come to her senses enough to be "Shion" again.

The Sonozakis have an ancient tradition where if twin successors are born, one must be strangled before their first cleaning. And yet Shion existed. And if Shion didn't exist, none of this would have happened.

But there's nothing saying which twin should die.

Shion blamed her little sister for everything, and thought she should have died by the Sonozaki tradition. But now she realizes that it would have been better if she had died instead.

She'd broken every promise she made. She didn't take care of Satoko, she didn't spare Keiichi, and she didn't die after killing Mion.

She wants to make everything right, but most of the promises she broke can never be fixed. The only thing she can do is apologize and fulfill the one promise she can still keep as she throws herself off the balcony to her death.

She promises Satoshi that if she ever gets another chance, she will do it right. And it's a promise she intends to keep.

In that ideal world where Shion made the right choice, Satoshi still isn't there, but she's part of the club and she cares for Satoko like she promised.

And in a few days, Ooishi will ask Keiichi about who really stabbed him. Ooishi most likely has concluded at that point that Shion had been impersonating Mion the whole time and tried to get Keiichi to realize that. But Keiichi still never assumes Shion would have done anything even when Ooishii is practically telling him that's what happened.

back

Spoiler Discussion

So who wrote the notebook? If I was to give a supernatural answer, I'd say it was Shion, but not this one.

I'm going to argue it's the Shion from the Cotton Drifting arc. She's already lived this experience once before and she knows how this story ends.

Just like the memories from Abducted by Demons will reach the Keiichi of Atonement, maybe the memories of the Shion from Cotton Drifting momentarily found their way to this Shion, spurring her to write the thoughts she had the last time she did this.

And it could very well be possible that Shion is becoming somewhat connected to the Shion in Massacre. Keiichi and Rena dream of the things they do in their dreams, and Rika only speculates that Shion may have also experienced the same thing.

The Shion here suddenly thought she was having a bad dream, and she'd wake up and Satoshi would be by her side.

And while her actions were real in this timeline, for a moment, she managed to suddenly reach herself in Massacre where all of this really is just a dream. And the Shion in Massacre was able to show her that for once, she fulfilled her promise to Satoshi.

[changingplumbob]

Chopra Household: Chapter 3, Part 2

Infants Savannah and Mercedes are adorable harbingers of chaos. Follow along as the twins get the better of me and I lose my mind over playmats. Despite this lots of cute infant shots.

Twin management powers activate! Rahul feeds Mercedes while Cassandra does the dishes. Mercedes is then passed to Cassandra for a diaper change. Savannah is picked up by Rahul and has some cheer up time after waking up sad. Disaster strikes! Mercedes has loosed her bladder wildly dousing Cassandra.

Rahul feeds Savannah who then spits up over him, everyone is messy now, parent life. Cassandra has managed to tame the pee disaster and puts Mercedes in her crib. Rahul then passes Savannah to Cassandra who will change her diaper since she's already pee doused.

Rahul kisses Mercedes good night and tries to soothe her to sleep. Cassandra is having a really bad diaper change experience with Savannah. Rahul ends up putting on a lullaby as Mercedes is having lots of trouble falling asleep. When Savannah is clean he puts her to bed and also starts her lullaby.

Cassandra: Who knew something so small could have such a large bladder

Rahul: If you're thinking of having a shower I might join you

Cassandra: Is that so

Rahul: Showering together could save time

Cassandra: Better try it then

And at last both infant girls are sleeping soundly in their cribs.

A grand total of 2 hours later Mercedes decides sleeping is boring. Rahul feeds her while Cassandra does some pumping, then leaves her on the playmat. Next up he feeds Savannah. Cassandra gets to the nursery and starts some tummy time with Mercedes. Cue the crying.

Savannah breaks from tradition and burps some bubbles. Cassandra is still working with a crying Mercedes when Rahul tries having tummy time with Savannah, she also cries because growing up is hard. Milestone music! Mercedes lifted her head! Savannah may look like she is but it doesn't count.

Okay let's try this sleep thing again. Both girls tucked in, lullabies playing. Parents are almost fully rested. Surprise! Intense Mercedes has the Early Riser quirk. Guess we're getting up at 6am so that she doesn't disrupt her sister’s sleep.

Super dad Rahul swoops in and scoops up an angry Mercedes for safekeeping. She is unsure about the back carrier at first, why is she staring at her fathers head? Rahul begins cooking breakfast and chatters away to her. Eventually Mercedes relaxes and begins looking about her in wonderment.

Rahul grabs some breakfast without skipping a beat. After showering Cassandra goes to the coop to feed and clean. I want to apologise in advance to these chickens for the lack of interaction today as shortly after sim lunch time everything will go sideways.

Mercedes gets fed right as Cassandra goes to grab breakfast.

Mercedes: *burps*

Cassandra: How is it that they even burp cute?

Rahul: It certainly makes up for the wailing

Cassandra: You wouldn't wail would you honey?

Mercedes: *smiles*

Rahul: You don't want to comment huh?

Cassandra: No cooing yet

It's meant to be Family Day today (my game version of mothers/fathers day) so Cassandra refuels and organises family lunch. Rahul changes Mercedes diaper which is close to blow out. He puts Mercedes down for a nap and changes Savannah. Not quick enough for Cassandra not to notice the smell though.

Cassandra: What was that smell? Was it you?

Rahul: No it wasn't this cherub, was it?

Savannah: *coos*

Cassandra: Well done honeybee! You coo away

Rahul: tickle, tickle, tickle

Savannah: *coos*

Cassandra: Have you done breakfast

Rahul: Only for Mercedes so far

Cassandra: Mama can fix that, can't I honeybee

Savannah happily guzzles down her morning milk, and manages not to spit any back up! Cassandra needs to pump so puts Savannah on the playmat. Savannah looks at the toys, considers them, then, grabs! She reached her arm out and did it! Cassandra is super impressed with her progress today.

Meanwhile Rahul takes time to go jogging. Getting some time away from the house is important, as is basking in nature. He still misses Henford-on-Bagley but Willow Creek isn't terrible. He almost collides with Agatha, does no sim look where they're going?

After a hug and a kiss it's time for another new milestone for Savannah, her first bubble bath! You know she needs it after her stinky diaper situation this morning. I love the little seat the infants get put in. Would have loved to see them in the sinks but bath is a good runner up option.

Rahul opens a gift before the guests arrive. He got plants seeds which suit him fine. Savannah tries to nap and what do you know, she's a Self-Soother! I put the lullabies station on just to make sure no one turns on metal and disturbs her. Casandra is happy her little brother Milton is here.

Mortimer hasn't shown up, he doesn't put much stock in public holidays. Everyone else is getting along swimmingly though, including the chickens! All the joy gives me a massive false sense of security, the clam before the storm. Things are going to hit the fan, by which I mean glitch to hell.

Things start to go downhill when Mercedes wakes up, furious that there are visitors having fun without her. Cassandra tries to give her a clean diaper but Mercedes releases her bladder at the wrong time, pee everywhere again. I manage to get a shot of Savannah reaching so maybe it's not a bad omen.

Cluckton and I are furious at the glitchy hokey pokey that follows.

🎵You put the infant down, you pick the infant up, you put the infant down and glitch it all about!🎶Four sim hours later and you want to ducking cry, that's what it's all about 🎵

Everyone's motives drop to new depths

Things start to get back on track at 11pm sims time. Those playmats are banished to the household inventory. Cassandra gives Savannah a bottle, a cuddle, and puts her to bed. Savannah laughs for the first time! I think it's in response to peek-a-boo and hour earlier? Me and Cassandra have lost track.

Last but not least Mercedes gets a nighttime feed and cuddle. I don't have pictures, but it took forever to get her to sleep. I'm talking a lullaby and kiss did not work. Rahul had to bust out a second lullaby and try soothing her to sleep. At last she closes her eyes and I can say the day is over!

Mercedes wakes up at 5am the next morning and poor baby is not happy. She's angry at waking up and still feels pretty tired. I'm so sorry little ladybug, I'm going to do my best to give you a better day, promise!

Papa Rahul comforts Mercedes and gives her a clean diaper. Then it's time for Mercedes to have her first bubble bath. She has just as much fun as her sister, enchanted by the rubber duck and freezer bunny sponge. Bubbles make everything better, right?

Cassandra wakes up feeling extra gloomy as she had a horrible family day. While she dejectedly pumps Cluckton goes and confirms that Savannah is now a spoiled egg. Cassandra trudges through the house, and is saddened seeing the stink cloud. No choice, she has to wake Savannah up to change her.

Previous Part ... Next Part

[angelictyphoon]

Vash's lips scrunch. His eyes narrow. He bounces his weight from one foot to the next after they divested themselves of material goods. The longer he hems and haws over the question, the longer Wolfwood can stand there staring at him hoping for a yes. 

"Want? No." Vash waves off the dismal cloud of reluctance lingering about his head with his hand as he climbs onto the saddle and flicks his fingers along the clutch and brake levers.

Ignition, engine start. 

Vash keeps one foot resting on the brake pedal as he grins over his shoulder at Wolfwood. "But will I? Yeah." 

There's a 'only because I love you' in there, but that doesn't need to be said. 

Nicholas has enough on his mind to sort through. Is handing off responsibility of getting them home to a walking disaster all that much better of an idea? 

Maybe.

Vash has only crashed a handful of times before and they've emerged from the wreckage mostly intact throughout their wanderings across the desert. 

Intact is the goal. He can manage intact. 

Traveling across the arid landscape back to Hopeland costs them what remains of the day and they do not roll up to Marlon's Monuments until the twin suns have long delved past the horizon line. 

As the kickstand comes down and Angelina quiets to the buzz-buzz of a distant swarm of worms, Vash gazes at the windows. The lights are on inside, and a battered news van with a wind-stripped globe logo is parked out front. Their roof has been replaced multiple times, leaving scars of ripped out bolts and broken seams from old weld work. It seems they eventually settled on worm canvas as a solution rather than attempt another patchy repair with sheet metal. 

Night has well settled, coaxing heat from sand and stone as temperatures dropped.

He can hear voices inside, indistinct, but judging by the quiet wheeze-click beneath the hood of the van the girls have not been here long. Vash is bent over, his arms half-buried in the side car to gather up as many goods as he can carry when–

"AAAIIIEEEE!!!"

Several tins of canned foodstuffs clatter out of his arms and noisily into the well of the side car when he startles from the ear piercing shriek that shatters the nighttime ambience. The sound carries far enough that neighboring shadows pass by their open windows to investigate.

Vash blinks a few times in rapid succession, then points at the window while looking back at Wolfwood with a pinched expression. "I think Meryl found the de-shelled worm in the sink."

Both feet lift off the ground as he leans over the edge of the sidecar and dives to snatch up the cans that slipped out of his grasp. Hugging them close to his chest when he rises again, Vash works to carefully keep his tin can stacks balanced as he turns towards Nicholas. 

They have a few options here. Knowing Milly, she probably already suspected that Vash would be entering shortly. What they would make of Wolfwood, however… 

"We could go through the front…ooor the back."

One way or another, he suspects everything they try to carry inside will end up on the ground at least once.

Wolfwood sniffs, then sniffs again. When he is reasonably certain that his face has stopped leaking, he pats around for something to wipe it off on, only to come up with one of the bandanas he'd flopped on their necks earlier.

It will do. He only needs a bit of it. The canteens are still out there with Angelina. He honestly did not expect to be here however long they have been here. He did not expect any of it. He uses a clean portion to blot Vash's face too.

And then, with all of that settled, he lingers close as Vash works with the computer terminal. Eyes downcast and at half-lid, he perches his chin on the other's shoulder, slowly macerating the carob pod in his teeth while attempting to regulate his breathing. He feels wrung out, not quite numb but fuzzy, cottony, grateful for contact as a point of grounding.

Among other things.

"You better be fuckin' fine," he tuts, grouses, and while the rasp in his voice might lend him a coarser tone, there is nothing truly harsh in his eyes. Nor indeed in the way he cranes his neck and bunts them together brow to brow, leaning into the touch at his cheek.

He knows that 'fine' is a stretch. It has been for some time. Or at least it had been since he knew Vash. The empty smiles were a veneer over something hollow and hurting, something so deeply guilty that it rang and sang with touch and breath and motion and action. There were moments, though.

Moments of 'okay.'

Nothing can be the same. Nicholas does not know what to expect. Does not know what expectations he could possibly have. All of this still feels vaguely dreamlike, a blurred pendulum swing between bliss and sorrow.

So much of his life's pain stemmed from this place. Brutality, violence. Trained, honed. Here is where he was forged as a weapon. Here is where he was sharpened for the inevitable cut. It is quiet here, now, quiet and empty, spirits quelled and Plant soothed, and in the fullness of light it feels far less...cursed. The shadows aren’t rife with grasping hands or the threat of drowning; they are simply dark spots in a building full of them, just alloy and polymer, just footpaths and walls and ceilings.

Memory can still strike deep, of course. There is no way to banish that. Like grief, it never truly vanishes; one must simply grow around it. He has a chance to grow now. And he hopes, in a pluck of connection, that Vash can sense his gratitude.

"It's alright. I s'pose we'll see what we see, huh? Heh."

Maybe they will have to weather an assault, maybe not.

Onward, upward, and out. The two of them can be pack tomas when they put their minds to it. Useful things, things to keep out of Terran and Federal hands—logbooks, notepads, changes of clothes, preserved foodstuffs, a stash of double dollars.

Some good drink. Direct from Chapel's desk.

"Yeah. I'll be gladder when we're out of here." Fingers laced to fingers, he squeezes right back. When they make their ascent, completing their loop through the repurposed ship, they emerge to the dusty desolation of the chapel on the surface, absent even of the flutter of worm-wings.

He glances from Angelina to Vash and back, squinting with a crooked smirk. The side car is rather full.

That isn’t the only thing that is full. Home, Vash called it. That means something.

"You wantin' to drive us back?"

Maybe he's testing his luck.

[princeanxious]

Part two to that supervillain roman au, context for this comic strip sketch under the cut:

So. For one, both quotes spoken arent mine they are raw lines sourced from a list of tumblr shitposts.

Somehow its come into my mind that the way that Roman came to be a supervillain was because of a dare/promise to his twin brother when they were kids when one of them had just been discovered as having super powers(they both had powers, but they’d both been raised trying to hide it and live a normal-ish life before getting dragged into what we’ll dub “super youth school” or whatever for the forseeable future, bc they knew that that was easily a life sentence to hero work whether they wanted it or not.) Remus got found-out first bc his powers control fluctuates with how much control remus has over his own head at that moment. Roman was dragged along with even if he hadnt been found out as twins were known to share the super power trait more commonly than if only one did, regardless of when/if their powers actually manifested at the same time.

So at like 13 they’re dragged to this super school thats def more like a training camp but a *littol more* ethical than u would think it was. Its not a super horrible place, honestly. But Roman’s still trying to hide his powers. This is made easier by the fact that he and Remus do not have identical powers but instead entirely seperate/opposite foils in a way? Remus has more access to offensive power-sets while roman is more defensive.

Well.

One day a super nasty Actual Supervillain plans and executes a sudden and devastating attack on the school, first aiming to collapse the building and then taking out any stragglers inside, because, yknow. These kids could be the future heros of his undoing(oh how right and yet so*wrong* that turns out to be) and taking a chunk of this generation out now atleast delays the eventual inevitable.

Its in this event that Roman is with a fellow classmate Remy, and Remus is in a dif part of the building, with classmates Janus, Patton, and Virgil. Remy wasnt gifted with super strength, but Roman had quick enough reflexes to summon a hard-light type shield from the collapse. Only he and Remy and maybe one other student out of their entire classroom makes it past the initial collapse, and while Remus has a quick regeneration factor, that doesnt mean he has invincibility so much as super strength in the sense that he wouldnt withstand the inital collapse but it probs would kill him.(lucky for remus, Virgil is a prodigy at teleportation and manages to get the four of them out safely and *far* away from the chaos. ….at the same time, this group roughly around ages 16-18 realizes this is their only real chance to run and escape this place for good and have a second chance at living low-profile normal-ish lives for a while, and thus make a *run for it*)

Roman and Remy manage to lay low and eventually get rescued by an active superhero, all the while Roman doing his level best to maintain the lightshield to keep the weight of the building from crushing them for *hours*

Essentially, the brothers end up believing that the other is dead from the disaster, the others even legally registered as such for years. And that silly kid promise of ‘if you win, we can become superheros, but if I win, we’re becoming super villains.’ It was just like, another one of their running jokes growing up. At a young age, Remus saw a major appeal in becoming a super villain, and Roman saw a major appeal in becoming a superhero, and as twins sometimes do, their young-adult counterparts came to the exact same conclusion(again, at different times but still the same decision in the end) after the collapse: “I’ll be the best super [hero/villain] i can be, for you, because *you* never got to.”

And Remus? His first order of business? Making his first superhero debut by offing the fucker that killed his brother and all the other helpless innocent lives that hadnt deserved to die.

[hyperfixated-homo]

Can I request a moceit dads thing?

-g

Mociet meet-cute

Janus takes the twins on a playdate. Their friend’s parent is much cuter than he thought they would be.

Ao3 link

I have no thoughts they’re just cute. its more mociet than dad content, hope that’s alright :)

———

"Slow down, you two! You're going to break something!" Janus called exasperatedly.

Remus and Roman ran faster, almost sprinting away from him and towards the house at the end of the neighborhood.

He silently apologized to all of the wonderful people he was sure they were disturbing in the quiet area. It was only nine in the morning and his boys were shrieking like he'd taken away their toys and left them in a closet to starve.

He hoped Mr Heart had some wine in his house. Janus didn't think he could handle dealing with the disaster twins for another day and a half without some alcohol.

There was a slight chill in the autumn air today. The leaves had begun to change to a spectacular display of reds and yellows. Here and there, some had begun to fall from their branches, only to get crushed beneath shoes and car tires. A cloudless blue sky covered a neighborhood of pretty little houses painted all the colors of the rainbow. The wind carried a mix of the tree's scent and the newly fallen leaves.

Janus smiled at the pleasant weather and grabbed the collar of his thick, warm sweater. He pulled it up and grinned at the sun. It was a good day for the kids to have chosen to have a play date.

He strolled towards the address Virgil's dad had given him over the phone (a light blue one, he noted, fifth down the street).

He could see his little eight year olds standing at the driveway. They were both almost vibrating with excitement, calling him over in voices that were far too loud considering he was less than five meters away.

It only made him grin harder.

He made it to them and the boys practically dragged him to the front door. Remus jumped up on the fence to ring the doorbell ("Once is enough, Squishy!") and before he knew it the door was opening with a quiet creak.

And Janus was promptly met with quite possibly the most stunning man he'd ever seen in his life.

The man stood a good few centimeters taller than him, but didn't tower over him by any means. His clothes are simple, a pair of beige khaki shorts and a light blue golf shirt that almost matched in shade with the walls of his house. Soft, kind eyes sparkled at him from behind thin circle glasses, and he wore a smile that made Janus want to know him.

To put it simply, Janus was very, very gay.

Thank god for his three years of theater in middle school, without it he might have just died on the spot.

"Hi there kiddos! You got here just in time, I just finished some cookies that I was going to give to Virgil." God, he sounded like a sweetheart too, this is so unfair. Who gave him the right to look and sound like that? He sounded like he was glowing. How the hell can a person sound like they're glowing?!

Janus felt himself slip into a smooth, honeyed voice almost automatically. He plastered a smirk that he hoped seemed sly and not completely infatuated onto his face.

"Of course, darling. Give the kids a sugar rush before they go out and play. I'm sure that won't end in disaster."

He winced internally at how condescending that came off, but was pleasantly surprised when Mr Heart just chuckled.

"Virge usually need some sugar before they go out. He doesn't like the outdoors all that much" he explained, voice still bright and shining.

"It's a wonder he gets along so well with mine then." Janus responded dryly, rolling his eyes for extra flair (the boys had to learn their over-the-top dramatics from somewhere).

The man laughed again and stepped back to let them in.

Roman and Remus said hello as quickly as they could before sprinting to the counter, yelling hellos at another kid they could now see sitting there.

"I'm Patton," he beamed, holding his hand out "it's nice to meet you!"

Janus took his hand, and instead of shaking it brought it up to his mouth.

"Janus King" came his reply, praying to a god he didn't even believe in that Patton didn't see past his clever facade.

And it seemed his prayers were answered, as Patton stuttered over his words, face turning a pretty shade of pink. Janus found himself staring at the freckles the color brought out.

"Cookies!" he exclaimed suddenly, "I- uh- I just baked some cookies if you want them? I could make you a drink too if you'd like- I mean most people want a drink with cookies-"

Janus found himself giggling at his new friend's poor attempt to hide his scrambling, but he took pity on him and decided to accept the change in conversation.

"Do you have any tea?" he said warmly.

"Ah- yes!" Patton turned on and started walking towards the counter. He only blushed harder when he realized that Janus wasn't planning on letting go of his hand any time soon. "What kind do you like?"

Conversation flowed enjoyably as they made something to snack on. Patton was easy to talk to, and he was charming and charismatic when he wasn't busy being a flustered mess. His sense of humor was not the kind Janus indulged in usually, but he found himself laughing along to his silly puns and dad jokes more often than not.

He laughed a lot around Patton. And not even necessarily in a flirty way either.

The smell of freshly baked shortbread cookies, sweet with the scent of vanilla and honey, waft through the air. The sound of their boy's joyful laughter filled any quiet that may have been present at the little house.

With sugar on tongue stars in his eyes, Janus decided that the twins were going to be spending a lot more time in this house.

[archived-kin]

caught in a twin courtship

note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it

(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)

(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean

pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine

warning(s): i don’t think so??

genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst

you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.

the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.

then they hear a yell in the distance.

jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.

a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”

aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”

“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”

diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before

so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself

it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from

you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling

lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place

aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute

one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage

(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)

strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially

aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed

the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city

all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation

you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated

lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire

luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!

you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple -  a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place

at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy

the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it

aether and lumine are basically star-struck

from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once

the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it

diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway

(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)

from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other

it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together

aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better

is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know

considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life

lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long

maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys

aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short

he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up

lumine is a lot more subtle

she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling

of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily

at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other

but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk

it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it

and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?

if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact

it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.

the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.

it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to

from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to

lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make

so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.

if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.

he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?

but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.

he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.

so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.

if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.

lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.

but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?

she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.

lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.

but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.

if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.

the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?

neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.

they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway

to their joyous surprise, you agree!

and from then marks the point of no return…

aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting  as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.

lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.

the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)

in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?

[leia-imogen]

aaron & the family he's found all by himself; vol. 1 // vol. 2

( ft. the first meeting & the first family game night )

okay, rundown of his first meeting w the vixens!

the vixens don't really like the foxes. they cheer at their games and all, but outside of that, they mostly stick with the football players

bcs, well, the foxes are,, intimidating and most of the vixens don't get how or why katelyn started dating one

especially one half of the terrifying duo that is the twinyards. like these tiny blonde angst goblins have absolutely zero chill, and this is the backliner one, the one that shattered the nose of a dude basically twice his size

they may be short as fuck but they're scary, and the vixens are worried that he might break katelyn's heart

but katelyn's sure about aaron minyard, and when cleo softly asks, "is he worth it?" she knows her answer is a yes

savannah and the rest of the girls aren't convinced tho, so she asks aaron if he'll meet them for one of the afterparties they have after games

he agrees after seeing the hopeful look on her face

and surprise, surprise, it isn't a complete disaster!!

see, aaron has a habit of mirroring the nature of the person he's with. in the book, we mostly see him as an asshole bcs it's from neil's pov, and neil, as much as i adore him, is an asshole

i think that when he's with nicky ( someone he loves and trusts ), he's like, nicer. it's not in his nature to be cheery or anything but he's less,, hostile? and way more relaxed

and katelyn's been nothing but sweet and polite to him, bcs katelyn's sweet and polite till you give her a reason not to be

so he's sweet and polite back, or at least, sweet and polite as aaron minyard can get.

yeah, he's definitely interesting enough, clever and quick-witted enough, respectful and loyal and insanely talented enough, that katelyn decides he's worth it. doubts he'll ever get boring

and yes, she knows this is a big risk, bcs she knows the foxes' rep, knows how fucked up he must to secure a place on the psu foxes, notices how aaron flinches when she makes any sudden movement

but you know what? fuck it

so when aaron tells her his strange, twisted little deal with his brother, katelyn's willing to fight for him

and after nearly 2 months of this, she drags him to the vixens with their fingers interlocked and a hope in her heart that they'd play nice like she's asked ( practically begged ) them to

aaron's buzzing a bit with nervous energy. it's very endearing, how his eyes had lit up at the sight of her, then how she felt her anxiety about the night melt away into excitement

sav tries, bless her, tries to engage aaron in half-hearted conversation about exy ( which she hates ) and aaron tries back, but that fizzles out bcs for someone on a full-ride exy scholarship, aaron doesn't like exy at all

thank god that marissa, who's been trying to be less of a bitch all night, bless her too, lets it slip that sav detests exy

"okay, i can't anymore. minyard, savannah actually hates exy and she hates the foxes too, but we're hoping that you're an exception."

aaron, holding back a laugh: honestly? same.

sav: oh thank fucking GOD we have something to talk about then

"yeah, the entire sport sucks, doesn't it? i literally play it at college level and i still have barely figured out the goddamn rules."

"exactly! and my entire family's fucking obsessed for some reason, it's so annoying! ugh and the foxes suck even more, they're all so goddamn rude for no reason. except maybe the cute goalie."

". . ."

"eww not your brother, i meant renee walker,, and maybe you're not too bad either, minyard."

"you flatter me."

katelyn watches their exchange with more than a little amusement. aaron's not smiling, but his features have softened and he's flushed from the alcohol he'd had and she can't rly believe that this is the boy who they all thought would break her heart

bcs later when aaron comes up to her with a cookie dough cupcake ( her favourite ) she didn't even know was served at the party, leans into her so his face is buried in her neck, whispers "thanks for taking me", when she takes in all her friends laughing and chatting and waving at her, when sav gives her a thumbs-up and nods to aaron, she's never felt more whole

like she was part of something bigger than herself

then aaron starts hanging around them more! yeah he saw the look on katelyn's face and he was going to TRY for her or so help him- usually just with katelyn, sav, and cleo

she invites him to the "family game night" sav is making them have, and he's like "sure why not."

he knocks on the door of sav and cleo's dorm and sav lets him in

"yo, minyard! glad you make it, katelyn's out on a donut run but she'll be back soon."

okay,, okay. so he'll,,, what? interact w people?? hell fucking no

then he realises that it's only cleo in the dorm, plugged into her headphones, playing mario kart, and thanks katelyn for ensuring there would only be ppl that like, he didn't mind

the other vixens were okay, but way too LOUD, and aaron wasn't rly up for spending a whole night w them

cleo hands him a controller, an invitation to play, and he takes it gratefully. he and cleo hadn't talked that much at the party, but she was perfectly tolerable so far, which was a good sign

and mario kart was a part of his childhood, one of the only few that nicky's parents had owned, so he and his cousin had spent hours curled up in front of tv trying to beat each other

even tho he beats nicky most of the time, cleo absolutely destroys him. he mentally tries to brush it off as him being rusty ( which he definitely is ) but damn, cleo's good. still, she brushes off the compliment when aaron blurts it out

okay so then katelyn comes back with like way too many donuts and they start playing monopoly gathered around the coffee table

sav insists on putting on some music. wannabe starts playing. she winks at aaron and aaron winks back, still not smiling. cleo snorts and katelyn kisses his cheek

listen, cleo is a monopoly master. soon, she owns over half the board and it's pretty clear she's gonna win, someone ( savannah riley jameson, everyone ) flips the board

"jameson, what the actual fuck."

"shut the hell up, minyard."

"come on, sav, i was winning!"

katelyn's trying to pick up all the pieces and aaron bends down to help her, shaking his head at sav, who pouts and joins them while cleo grins, headphones slung around her shoulders while she perches herself onto the arm of the settee and hums to wake me up before you go-go

next, sav begs them to play twister. cleo's great at most games, but she has a particular dislike for twister, so she's out quick

katelyn is super bendy, bcs she took gymnastics for years, and aaron holds his own surprisingly well, considering the fact that he's short as fuck

sav: katie, right hand red

katelyn, ending up right on top of a blushing aaron: okay, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

sav: i stopped spinning like 15 turns ago, i'm surprised you didn't notice sooner

eventually aaron collapses and katelyn is hailed as the queen of twister and they spend the next 10 minutes just calling out random spots for katelyn to try

she gets all of them, and aaron is actually smiling now and it doesn't matter that it's only a tiny quirk of his lips, it's something and katelyn cherishes it

they play some sort of surgeon simulator thingy next, and aaron "gonna be a future neurosurgeon" minyard is awesome at it, bcs duh

katelyn's not very good at this. her hands get SHAKY okay

cleo also sucks at this, bcs she keeps getting nervous and having muscle spasms. sav's just doing the dumbest shit bcs it's bringing aaron closer to the edge of cardiac arrest

aaron: jameson holy shit what are you DOING

sav, slicing open the spinal cord: okay so what if i take out the lungs through the back haha

and now sav is sulking over the fact that she hadn't absolutely murdered the others at a game

so she brings out the ultimate game. the game of bastards, one that tears families apart, sets friendships on fire, starts wars too gruesome to be started by anything other than this wretched, cursed artefact. . .

s c r a b b l e

aaron's already having war flashbacks. katelyn groans and goes to make popcorn, bcs this shit's gonna take FOREVER and she knows it. cleo, an english major, is preparing herself for battle with the force of nature that is savannah

"the fuck do you MEAN fergalicious isn't a word???"

"savannah, please."

"no, here, listen to this."

"sav, we were listening to that!" katelyn complains. sav sighs and switches the song back to her "90's bops" playlist, then changes it to "hell yeah feminism" which instantly starts playing run the world ( girls )

katelyn happily starts singing and aaron's not even reluctant to hum along

sav and cleo are still arguing. this has been going on for so long. sav looks ready to flip over the board again, so cleo does it first

katelyn: cleo what the heck

cleo, the tired mom friend: don't fucking curse

aaron is also tired, but in a good way, in kind of that soft lazy droopy way

he falls asleep leaning against the sofa and katelyn's shoulder, with god is a woman playing in the background while sav and cleo continue arguing. cleo is standing on the coffee table. it's true anarchy

he wakes up on the sofa with a blanket thrown over him and sunlight streaming in through the lacy curtains and katelyn making a complete mess of the kitchen in a futile attempt to make breakfast. sav and cleo are draped across each other on the floor

katelyn, struggling to pick up burning toast: morning babe, how did you sleep?

aaron, calmly using a pair of tongs: pretty well. who wants pancakes?

sav, instantly shooting up: DID YOU SAY PANCAKES

so he makes pancakes! nicky taught him as soon as he'd gained custody of the twins, so he's pretty much an expert. he tries to teach katelyn, but then just gives up bcs she's clearly not listening in favour of staring at him

and they all gather around the coffee table and cleo's humming along to the song on her headphones and wow these pancakes are rly good omg

while aaron is chatting to cleo about what video games they should play next, sav whispers, "kate finley, if you don't marry this boy just for his god-tier pancakes, i will."

"sav, you're a lesbian."

"not anymore, i've decided that i am pancake-sexual."

aaron hears all of this btw, bcs cleo stops when she hears them talking. he blushes, and smiles, just a little bit

( if anyone actually cares about this, tell me! shoot me an ask if there's any particular ask you want to see with these characters, or just the foxes! )

[dynyamight]

“Quit looking at me with that ugly mug” for the ask prompt!

send me an interaction ask bonus + action

“Quit looking at me with that ugly mug. “

“I told you to hold still!” A shrill voice echoes.

“Don’t yell so loud, onee-san!”

“I’m not yelling!”

Under his bed covers, Bakugou winces. It’s worse that he’s overslept, but now he’s already dreading going downstairs to the loud, living room.

The morning has barely started, and it sounds like the damn rascal twins are causing trouble.

More or less, Mahoro, than Katsuma. But, Bakugou still considers him an accomplice, regardless.

After a long, needed yawn, Bakugou rolls his way out of his bed, bare footed against the tiled floor. The cool surface sends chills through his spine, and definitely helps to awake his senses. With the ends of his sweats dragging, he trudges out of his bedroom; the safe, beloved confines from parenthood.

He knows when the kids hear his heavy footsteps, when he hears Mahoro let out a loud, dramatic gasp. “Oh no! The oni ogre from upstairs is awake!”

Popping his head from the rail, Bakugou growls, “The hell you just called me?”

The kids immediately shriek, faces painted in panic from his sudden appearance. Bakugou can’t help, but puff out an airy laugh, as he eyes at their frightful expressions. Like two little deers in the headlights.

However, it is short lived. Blinking, Bakugou notices the kids are standing around Midoriya, seated with legs crossed on the floor, and back facing away.

He does find it weird that his usually affectionate husband has yet to greet him. But, after looking even closer, the floor had several makeup products scattered, open and ready for use.

When he looks back at the kids, brushes in hand, Bakugou can only suspect what is happening. “Izuku, what the actual-.”

And, just like that, Midoriya twists around, face blown with the most hideous combination of bright colors and wobbly line work.

At first, there’s a warm, bright smile, but it quickly falls. A frown replaces it. “Put on a shirt, Kacchan. The kids are here.”

“You wipe that ugly shit off your face, first!” Bakugou yells.

Immediately, Mahoro’s arms defensively hug around Midoriya’s neck. “No! We are not done with the painting!” She pouts.

“I ain’t letting you finish!” Bakugou quickly descends down the last stairs, swatting his hands in the air. “Go! Gather up everything, now!”

Midoriya holds Mahoro in one arm, and Katsuma in the other. “C’mon Kacchan, we’re having a family bonding experience. Let the kids finish, real quick.” He says softly, looking up at Bakugou.

Now, despite their plenty of years together, Bakugou’s absolutely weak to those wide eyes. They string him along to their every request, no matter how resilient, or stubborn he may be. All Midoriya had to do was look up, pleadingly.

And, his damn husband knew it worked like a charm, always.

“Thirty minutes.” Bakugou huffs, walking past them and towards the kitchen. “Breakfast should be ready by then.”

Mahoro awes, “How did you know we haven’t eaten yet?”

Of course they hadn’t. Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Because your dumbass father never eats breakfast, unless I cook. Don’t be like him.”

He hears Midoriya whine from behind, calling him out for being too mean in the morning. No matter, obviously he isn’t mean, if he’s going to cook their starving family a good, warm meal.

Tuning out the shouting and laughing from across the room, Bakugou swiftly made grilled shiozake, tomago, and warmed up last night’s rice. But, even after the thirty minutes ran out, Bakugou decided to not end their weird fun, right away.

Especially after he turned around, and saw the bright smiles from his two kids and Midoriya.

So, with an added half an hour, Bakugou made a simple miso soup. Nothing too fancy or big. Just enough to make the kid’s eyes boggle at how much food was on the table.

And, that’s exactly the reaction they give, when he finally calls them out, a little over an hour later.

Now, usually, after a family meal, the kids are in charge of washing the dishes. But instead, Midoriya chooses to help with the empty plates, ushering the kids to clean the living room.

When it’s finally just them, standing beside each other by the sink, Midoriya lets out a short laugh. “We didn’t mean to wake you up, Kacchan. I know you had a hard shift last night, so I had the kids try to whisper.”

Staring down at the running water over his hands, Bakugou scoffs as he tilts the last dirty plate. “It didn’t sound like it.”

“Well, maybe Mahoro meant to wake you.” Midoriya chuckles, “She was wanting to do your makeup, next.”

“Fat chance. If it ain’t liner, I won’t wear it.”

“If Katsuma was the one to ask you, I do think you would.”

Bakugou offers up his plate, for Midoriya to dry with a dish towel. When Midoriya takes it, he huffs. “Let me guess. It was Katsuma who got you caught up in that shit.”

Midoriya whines, “He’s just too cute, when he asks.”

Like father, like son. “I keep telling you, he’s an accomplice.”

“He’s a younger sibling.“ Midoriya corrects, offhandedly setting the plate on the drying rack. “Obviously, whatever Mahoro says, he wants to follow.”

“Tch. Same thing.”

“They just want to have fun, Kacchan! Besides, I think I look very kissable, and pretty.”

Quirking a brow, Bakugou side-eyes his husband. He meets Midoriya’s gaze, face powdered with blush all over, streaked with magenta and blue on his lids, and black liner squiggly lines on his forehead. Not to mention the red lipstick that circles all over his lips.

Looking away, Bakugou snorts, “Yeah, pretty stupid.”

Midoriya lands a good punch on his bare shoulder. It only makes Bakugou cackle even louder.

Bakugou doesn’t realize Midoriya’s leaning close, until he’s stopped laughing. He grimaces, getting an unfortunate, close look to the makeup. “Quit looking at me with that ugly mug, Izuku.”

Rolling his eyes, Midoriya slides his arms over Bakugou’s shoulders. “Kiss me, first.”

“No.”

Midoriya’s teasing smile falls. “Why?”

“You have that ugly shit still on your face. I ain’t kissing you with it.”

“Kacchan, are you-” Midoriya’s lower lip trembles, “Are you calling me ugly?”

“What- No, not you!” Bakugou growls, “I’m talking about the fucking-”

Midoriya throws his head back, letting out a sad sigh. “My husband no longer finds me attractive! My world is collapsing right in front of-!”

Immediately, Bakugou lifts up Midoriya’s chin, and brings his lips over his. With his eyes closed, Bakugou graciously blinded from the shit disaster on his husband’s face. Other than it feeling a bit sticky, the kiss still felt fluttery and sweet.

When they pull away, Midoriya’s already smirking. “You look good with a nice red lip.”

Fuming hot, Bakugou shoves away his husband, stomping out of the kitchen. And, like salt to his wounds, Mahoro and Katsuma giggle, pointing out his red lips.

He’s going back to bed.

[nonstoplover]

happily ending catastrophies ~ Fred Weasley

summary: Fred is accidentally (and fortunately) at the right place in the right time, and is able to save a muggle girl's life.

pairing: Fred Weasley x muggle (female) reader

words: 5K

meaning of: (y/h/c) means 'your hair colour'

(kinda) warnings: (1) this plays after the war and Fred lives, because i refuse to accept anything else; (2) i'm not from the UK so excuse the possible mistakes i made about the underground; (3) also there are a couple time jumps, i didn't want to drag it for too long and had quite a few ideas i wanted to write

a/n: this was an idea born whilst i was studying for this year's most difficult exam at uni lol but i thought it was worth giving a shot so here it goes xx

my masterlist

(y/n) wakes up to the sweet scent of some kind of flower filling up her nose and lungs. Despite the panging in her head she cracks her eyes open to find the source, though as soon as she takes in the totally unfamiliar room around her, the flower immediately gets forgotten.

What the hell?

She frowns, pushing her upper body up on her elbows to get a better look around. She has never seen this room ever before. Or has she? Suddenly she's not so sure as a foggy memory appears in her mind. Her glance travels across the cardboard boxes beside the wall on the floor, piled high on top of each other, then a desk, a wardrobe, arriving to the bedside table that has a lamp and several strange things - looking like some foreign country's small candies in colourful wrapping - on the wooden surface.

Sitting up fully she tries to move her legs to place them on the floor, but finds that it's much harder than it usually is - than it should be. All her attention turn to her legs now and the weird feeling that surrounds her left leg she hasn't noticed before. Carefully she lifts the covers that wrapped her body in a warm embrace to see what's wrong with her leg. A gasp leaves her lungs right away as her eyes fall on the cast wrapped around it from her knees straight to her toes.

In that exact moment the door slowly opens and her eyes snap towards the entering figure - a flaming red haired young man - whilst her fingers scramble to get the blanket back on her lower body, hiding the lack of clothing she's wearing as she's in nothing else but her underwear.

"Ah, you're awake! How are you?" He asks when his eyes connect with hers and slightly widen.

And his voice brings back everything. Literally everything to her mind about how she got here, all the memories flashing by in front of her inner eyes.

- - - - - - - flashback - - - - - - -

Friday the 13th. The day of misfortune and disasters. (y/n) huffs as she makes her way down the street towards the underground station to go back to her apartment. Now she knows this fact from experience.

She woke up a bit late that morning and didn't have time to drink her usual morning coffee in the comfort of her home, so she had to wait until her first break at work to drink one. When she just finished brewing a cup for herself in the small kitchen at her work, the handle of her favourite mug she kept in there broke and the now handle-less mug full of the brown beverage fell to the ground and shattered to a thousand tiny pieces, and if it wasn't already bad enough, the coffee splashed on her white shirt, colouring it light brown and leaving a wet stain behind all across her chest.

After that she managed to get through the day quite normally, right until 3pm, when her boss called her in to his office.

"The company is facing a hard time," his voice still echoes inside her head, making her shiver in sadness and anger. "I'm sorry, (y/n), the performance you showed us in the past two years was truly great, but you gotta understand that I have to decrease the number of employees. And that unfortunately includes you. I'm sorry."

If the way she worked was actually 'truly great', then why do they fire her and not someone else?

Well, probably her boss told the exact same thing to everyone he kicked out today, she thinks, but it doesn't help at all - it doesn't get her her job back.

So half an hour ago she packed everything in a box and set off to go back home, mentally raging about the cursed day. She has never believed in any superstition like this, but today she's changed her mind. Maybe all these things are true.

And that's when the next string of catastrophies starts.

As she's moving along the pavement next to the tracks at the station, the heel of her shoe breaks and she stumbles, her box flying away from her grip, all the contents of it scattering all over the ground. (y/n) tries gaining her balance back, taking a couple steps back, but the pavement disappears from under her feet as she reaches the edge, completely unaware of it.

She falls back, down to the tracks, and an impossible pain shoots up from her left leg as she lands, the air totally knocked out from her lungs. As she tries catching her breath, her hands move to lay flat on the ground so she can push herself up, but the world around her seems like it's spinning and she feels too weak to move a single muscle in her body.

Everything decelerates into slow motion and she glances around to see what she could do when something bright catch her eyes. A shiny warm yellow circle in the distance, getting slightly bigger and bigger with every second. She observes it carefully, thinking about how pretty it looks as she wonders what it might be. It only takes a second or two for her mind to catch up and suddenly she's more than aware that a train comes towards her and she's not capable to do anything to stop the collision from happening.

Friday the 13th.

Out of nowhere she feels a presence next to her, and just as she turns her head that way to see what's going on and her eyes fall on locks of bright red hair and a freckled face, the man has already grabbed her arm and with a fierce pull hoisted her up to a standing position. It feels like her arm is ripped out from her body, for a moment even the unstoppable hurting from her leg fades out to give space for the one in her upper body and she gasps before everything goes black.

- - - - - - - end of flashback - - - - - - -

The following events go by as a dozen of blurry pictures (y/n) can't make out in her mind and she blinks a couple times to get back to the present, to reality. She focuses on the redhead again, the last person she clearly remembers seeing.

"Where am I?" Her voice comes out hoarse and quiet and she clears her throat, waiting for his answer, knowing how she behaves quite rude completely ignoring his question, but she just can't help it.

She hasn't a clue where they could be, she's never seen a place like this in her entire life. It's obvious it's not a hospital. And after what happened it's just as obvious that she needs hospital treatment.

"The Burrow," he replies with a small smile playing on his lips.

And though she thought his answer would help clear some of the fog inside her head, it only confuses her more. Fred bites back the chuckle that threatens to burst from him seeing her cute frowning expression and waits for her to ask again, knowing it'll soon happen.

"The what?" The girl speaks up again, her voice now much clearer.

"My family home."

The confusion still stays on her face, and Fred truly can't blame her for it - who wouldn't be distraught after waking up in a stranger's home? Still, seeing the same expression he first ever saw on her face brings him back to the Tube station in London.

- - - - - - - Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

He's rushing down the stairs to catch the apparently soon arriving underground train, cursing his twin brother under his breath for winning the bet that resulted in the usage of any and every magical thing being forbidden for Fred for this whole week. Now he has to run errands adjusting to the timetables of muggle public transport and he's running out of time. Everything takes so much more time in the muggle world, and in the past few days he's grown to appreciate being born into the world of magic more than ever.

Arriving next to the tracks he catches sight of a dozen or so people there and relief fills his body. So the train hasn't left yet. He slows down to a walking pace and tries to catch his breath, and that's when he notices something weird about the people, something he has never seen in the past days when he used the Tube. They're all moving closer to each other, slowly making a tight circle, all of them looking in the same direction, as if something was on the tracks.

Curiosity rises in Fred and he makes his way to the edge of the crowd, standing on his toes to tower over it and glance down. His eyes immediately fall on a young woman lying there, one of her legs twisted in an abnormal way. She's looking to the side, towards the tunnel from where the train should arrive any minute now. Her expression displays confusion and slight fear, but her breathtaking beauty is still obvious, and it makes his heart skip a beat. His eyes slowly turn to where she's looking and he can see the light that swiftly grows brighter and brighter inside the usually dark tunnel, but his mind can't comprehend what he sees as all his thoughts are still only about the gorgeous woman lying there.

"The train's coming!" Somebody in the crowd shouts and that's what wakes Fred from his daze. His head snaps back and forth from the tunnel to the girl a couple times, so fast it's a miracle his neck doesn't break.

His body moves before he can fully think about his actions and suddenly he's pushing people away to make a path for himself in the crowd and he jumps down to the tracks. He hears a couple gasps from behind him, even a couple voices trying to inform him again and again that the train is actually soon there, but he doesn't care. All he focuses on is the task in front of him.

Squatting down he grabs one of the woman's arms and drapes it around his shoulder, standing up again as fast as he can, pulling her with him a bit harsher than he intended. She lets out a gasp in obvious pain, but he knows there's no time to be more gentle. Both of his arms move around her, one around her shoulder blades and one around the backs of her thighs to lift her up bridal style as he knows one of her legs is broken and she can't stand on it. And he's thankful for his own speed and thoughtful actions as he feels her body go limp as she faints.

The head-splittingly loud sound of a horn fills the air just as he turns around, signalling that they were noticed by the people on the train. As he takes the first few steps back towards the pavement he glances up, seeing two or three men already there bending down with their arms stretching in his direction. Fred quickens his pace as much as he's able to and practically throws the woman in the waiting hands, helping them pull her up by pushing her body from under, the screeching of brakes, iron on iron being the only sound that can be heard.

He stays on the tracks until he's completely sure that she's safe, than he grabs the edge of the pavement and swiftly pushes himself up, crawling on the cold surface until his legs are lying there as well. He feels a breeze moving against his back as the train arrives to the station, but he doesn't care about it, neither the cheering that erupts from the people around him, celebrating his heroic act, not even the burning feeling in his muscles from being strained. He just pushes himself up and stumbles to the woman, falling back down on his knees to be able to get a better look of her.

From up close he can see how she's even younger than he has thought, probably close to his age. She's obviously falling in and out of unconsciousness every other second. The word 'ambulance' enters his ears from the people around them, and he finds himself with a new task ahead of him. Somehow he has to get the girl away from this place and back to the shop so he can take her to the Burrow. Muggle hospital treatment isn't enough now, the wizarding world offered much better methods of healing. His mother will know what to do.

- - - - - - - end of Fred's flashback - - - - - - -

"And why am I here?" (y/n) continues asking.

"You broke your leg."

"Yeah, I figured, but shouldn't I be in a hospital then?" She tilts her head, raising an eyebrow.

"This is better than a muggle hospital," the young man shrugs.

"Mu... a what?"

"Ah, sorry. Slipped out," he let out a small chuckle, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

Here comes the moment he dreaded. When he has to explain the existence of magic and the wizarding world to a completely clueless person and trying to do that without making a complete fool out of himself in front of the angel-like girl when she won't believe him - which he's sure she'll do.

"Wait, who are you? I don't even know your name," she speaks up again. "And how could I truly thank you for saving my life if I don't know even that?"

"There's no need to thank me," Fred protests.

"Of course there is!" (y/n) squeals as loudly as her weakened state allows. "Not everyone would jump down to the tracks when there's a train coming to save a complete stranger."

"Yeah, well, true," he mumbles, thinking back to how nobody did anything for her, anger filling his veins. Then he clears his throat, shaking his head to get rid of the negative thoughts and to focus on the girl again. "I'm Fred. Fred Weasley."

"Thank you for all you did, Fred. I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)," she sticks her hand out and a smile makes it's way to Fred face, matching the one on hers as he steps closer to shake her hand.

- - - - - - - 2 months later - - - - - - -

"I'm absolutely fine, Freddie, stop acting like I'm made of porcelain. I'm totally able to walk down the stairs on my own two feet," (y/n)'s giggling voice fills the air on the second floor of the Burrow when the redhead gently pulled her arm around his neck as he's done so many times in the past weeks.

"Alright, alright, I get it," Fred puts his hands up in surrender, backing away as laughter erupts from his throat and he turns his head away to hide the blush forming on his cheeks from the nickname she used.

Unfortunately he only gets completely face to face with his smirking twin brother who winks his way before pushing past him, a knowing chuckle sounding from him as he rushes downstairs, past (y/n), who follows him right away, only a bit slower, with Fred's careful, watching eyes trained on her back.

"See? I told you," the girl glances back at him over her shoulder after arriving downstairs, not stopping on her way to the dining table, only to stumble in a shoe someone left in the way. Fred immediately reaches out to grab her elbow and stop her from falling. From the strength of his attentive pull on her arm, instead of flying to the ground she crashes into his chest.

"I don't know, I'm not so sure," he teases, looking down with a smirk playing on his lips.

(y/n) moves her head up to connect her eyes with his, and Fred glances around her face, taking in the pink colour of her skin on her cheeks caused by the embarrassment of almost falling, then as his eyes reach the sight of her lips, he suddenly becomes almost too aware of how close the two of them actually are, and the breath hitches in his throat.

"Come on, kids, dinner's gonna get cold!" Molly's voice breaks the moment they shared and (y/n) regains balance, then gently pushing the boy away she turns around and limps the rest of the way to the dining table.

All of the Weasleys are already sitting there, watching the two of them appear in sight, and (y/n) has to bite back a giggle, still not used to the seemingly infinite number of redheads, all smiling wide and sweet at her. George pulls the chair she has always sat on ever since she was able to get downstairs out for her, offering a helping hand knowing that it's harder to sit down with only one properly working leg. Fred reaches out for her other arm just as she makes contact with George's hand, and the two of them don't let go until she's stopped moving.

She glances back and forth between the two boys sitting on either side of her, rolling her eyes at how overly protective both of them behave, when she's already told them hundreds of times that she's able to get by on her own.

The meal is delicious and the company is entertaining, just like it has always been since (y/n) stepped foot into the Burrow. Conversation flows without a hitch, only the occasional laughter breaking it for a second or two, and the (y/h/c) girl finds it hard to think about the inevitable - the moment that's coming fast, the moment when she has to leave these people and go back to her normal life. The Weasleys has become like a second family for her, and she fears that if she walks out that door, she'll never see them again. They're living a different life, in a completely different world. Their paths most likely will never cross again. She tries to brush off the sad thoughts, knowing that she'll have all the time to mope and grieve when she's back in her (ordinary and plain) flat on her own.

As she's helping Molly clean the dishes after the family finishes dinner, (y/n) pauses for a moment to glance at the redhaired woman. "Thank you for letting me stay here and for taking such good care of me."

"Oh, sweetie, you're more than welcome. It's our pleasure to have you here."

"That's true," Ginny chimes in with a joyful grin on her face as she places another dirty plate in front of her mother. "Your presence brightened up our boring lives."

"Boring?" (y/n) lets a loud laugh escape her throat. "Your lives are nothing even close to boring. Everything around here is breathtaking and spectacular."

"Is it though?"

"Try living my life for a week or so, and you'll know what boring really means," she shakes her head, the different memories and thoughts swiftly filling her mind as she turns around to lean the small of her back against the counter top, her eyes instantly connecting with Fred's, who's still sitting at the table, shamelessly watching her with searching eyes.

"I still can't believe there's a whole world of wizards and witches that we have absolutely no clue about. It makes me wonder how many things are there that's hidden from us. And it makes me scared how clueless we all are in the muggle world."

(y/n)'s only able to stand the intensity of his gaze for a couple seconds before she has to turn her head away, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and heat them up. She swallows, only hoping that it stays unnoticed by the boy, but when she finally dares to glance back for the shortest of moments, she catches sight of a small smirk playing on his lips and she knows that nothing has gone unnoticed by him. Clearing her throat she tries to find something else to say, speaking the first words that come to her mind.

The newly learned word still rolls uncertainly from her tongue, not sure if she says it correctly, but when her restlessly moving eyes accidentally catch Fred's again, she sees a new kind of glint sparkling in his eyes, and it's enough to let her know that she used it correctly.

"It's not your fault," Ginny places a hand probably destined to be reassuring on the older girl's shoulder. "We're just too good at hiding it."

The two of them share a laugh, and unbeknownst to (y/n), it turns the shape of Fred's eyes into something that very much resembles a heart. His own heart flutters at the sound, the temperature of the room suddenly feeling too hot for him to bear, and he abruptly kicks his chair back, standing up and swiftly moving out of the house to get some fresh air and somehow try to cool the fire that's burning inside of his chest.

(y/n)'s eyes follow him, an eyebrow raised in question, deep in her thoughts right until the door closes shut again behind the boy. The sudden noise brings her back to the present and she shakes her head to get rid of the things running around in her head.

"Anyway, I gotta go upstairs and pack. I really have to go back home now," she sighs, pushing her body away from the counter.

"I'll come help you," Ginny immediately offers, hurrying after her.

Two and a half hours and a heart wrenching goodbye later (y/n) and Fred come to a stop outside her apartment's door, both of them feeling a previously never felt sadness fill their hearts.

All (y/n) can think of is flashing images of the flaming red haired boy. The way he sat at the edge of the bed she was lying in, telling her everything about the wizarding world. The way he lifted her up so effortlessly as if she weighed nothing to bring her downstairs when she was unable to walk in the first weeks. The way he walked her around the house and the garden, showing her everything and explaining things to her, adjusting to her extremely slow pace without a word. The way he showed her multiple of the products he and his twin brother sell in their shop, sometimes only speaking of their effects, other times even showing her, not caring with the fact it caused something inconvenient for himself as long as he made her laugh - which she did so many times and so hard that it made her sides hurt. The clothes he let her have when winter set in and her own became too thin to keep her warm, and the way the material smelled like him. The lingering touches of his calloused fingertips against the skin of her cheeks when he thought she was fast asleep - when in fact she was completely awake, fighting back the urge to press her face further into his touch.

In the meantime all Fred can think of is flashing images of the gorgeous muggle girl. The genuine curiosity that sparkled in her eyes whenever he told her about the world he's living in, the endless amount of questions she's asked him about anything and everything, the pure interest she showed from the first time he told her about the existence of magic. The way she bonded with each and every member of the Weasley family, finding a common thing with all of them and eventually making them all grow fond of her. The way she told him all about the muggle world and her own life, sharing all the details with him without hesitation - trusting him right away. The way his name rolled from her tongue - even more when she called him Freddie. The bubbling, loud laughter that erupted from her throat when he told her about the shop and all the pranks George and him did back in Hogwarts or when he showed her the products they now sell in the shop, the laugh that always made his heart skip a beat, the laugh he couldn't help but adore along with the fact that she seemingly didn't care the slightest bit how loud she is or how funny her laughter might sound. The way she looked in his clothes, always taking his breath away, making him wish nothing more in the rest of his life than to see that very sight every day as long as he lived - and possibly even after that.

"Well, thanks for getting me home," (y/n) points at the door behind her back as she looks up into his mesmerizing eyes. "And for jumping down in front of a train for me. And for letting me into your family home. And for taking care of me."

"It was the least I could do," Fred smiles sheepishly, his mind spinning, trying to come up with something to say that would keep the girl in his life.

"Bye, Freddie," she hesitates for a moment, then decides it doesn't matter anymore and leans in, pressing a soft kiss on his left cheek.

Fred's eyes flutter closed, heart bursting with the sudden feeling of love from both her lips touching his skin and the oh so loved nickname. He freezes, unable to think anything else than eight very important letters.

The girl moves back, fiddling with her keys to find the correct one, pushing it in the slot and turning it, gently shoving the door until it's wide open. She steps in, her eyes taking in the furniture and decoration she once loved but now finds unbelievably plain and mundane. A sigh escapes her lungs and she turns around to close the door - and wave once more the boy.

Fred still stands in the exact same spot, obviously not moving even the slightest bit since she backed away from him. (y/n) raises her hand to wiggle goodbye with her fingers at him whilst moving to close the door with the other hand, already feeling the tears blur her vision as she tries to take in the sight of him as best as she can to be able to remember him forever.

"Wait!" Fred exclaims, placing a palm flat against the wooden material to stop it before it fully closes.

This time (y/n)'s the one to freeze, hand pausing high in the air and she even holds back the breath in her lungs as she waits for him to continue.

"Can we meet again?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. She always thought that he'd never want to see her again. That he'd be happy to finally get rid of her and be able to continue his life as before. He wants to meet with her again?

"I... y-yes, of course," she stutters, heart stammering inside her ribcage so wild and loud, she's almost sure he can hear it.

The extremely wide smile that splits his face in two hearing her answer makes it impossible for her not to mirror it, her own lips curving on their own accord. Fred, feeling the previous nervous shyness evaporate from his body and the always present confidence fill his vein up again, takes a step closer to her, then another until he's right beside the door, gently pushing it wider open again. (y/n)'s hand on the door handle inside goes limp, and she lets it fall down to hang loose beside her body as Fred steps inside.

When he's so close that she can feel the breath coming from his nose reach the skin of her face, his lips open again to let out a whisper. "Can I kiss you?"

The already abnormal rhythm her heart beats in gets even more uneven, and her head moves in a nod as she breathes out the word 'yes'. Fred's eyes sparkle up even more, and his hands slowly start moving up, one reaching out to gently caress her cheek whilst the other wraps around the small of her back. Slowly, extremely slowly he leans down, pausing for a second just before their lips could touch, and as a wave of impatience rushes through the girl, she raises her head and presses her lips against his.

Fred lets out a muffled chuckle at her eagerness before tilting his head and snaking his arm further around her torso to pull her flush against his own body, his hand that's resting on her cheeks moving slightly further back until his fingers completely disappear in her (y/h/c) locks, his lips moving passionately against hers.

She completely melts into his touch, feeling like she's floating in the air, as if she's only dreaming. But when they both run out of oxygen and pull away to fill their lungs again, their foreheads pressing against each other in search of support and their eyes connecting without problem, looking deep into his beautiful brown orbs (y/n) grows sure right away that it's truly reality, not just a dream.

"I love you," he breathes in-between his quiet pants, but it's enough to make (y/n) totally dizzy as a love-struck grin spreads across her face.

And in that very moment they both know that their story is just starting.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

[wanna be added to my taglist?]

[vaguely-concerned]

TF x Graves, 2500 words, complete and utter fluff

Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand I glance over at the window, which shows only the flat dark of a moonless night outside, before turning my eyes back to the line of T.F.’s naked back.

I’m already undressed and perched on the side of the bed, watching as T.F. is still in the middle of his nightly ritual of hanging or folding his fine clothes up all properly and neatly, lest they, I don’t know, unduly crease somewhere they ain’t meant to or somethin’. Listen, I keep my clothes in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed, right next to the shotgun, both within easy reach in the case of a middle-of-the-night emergency skipping of town. Our priorities in these matters don’t really intersect much, but to each his own and so on.

I don’t know why I’m waiting for him to come to bed to lie down myself, exactly — my eyes are already making a spirited attempt at staying shut on me whenever I blink, I’m pretty sure I’d be out and snoring in about three seconds once I got settled — but my skin has that thin restless thrum all through it that I know from experience won’t be satisfied until he’s settled into place against me and besides, the view is nothin’ to sneeze at in the meantime. He stands there shirtless, belt unbuckled and hanging loose around his narrow hips, though the fastenings of his trousers are still done up. In the light of the oil lamp across the room he’s in a rare state of relaxed unselfconscious disarray, his hair grown out long enough again that it spills over his shoulders and down his back while he fastidiously fastens the cufflinks back into place on the empty shirt so they’ll be easy to find in the morning. As he finishes up with the cufflinks he sings to himself under his breath, a good-natured jaunty little tune I vaguely remember the Brick would sometimes break out once you got a couple of drinks in him.

The hum under my skin grows higher and keener.

Stretching an arm out I hook my fingers into one of his belt loops and gently pull him in by it towards the side of the bed, until he’s standing between my legs. It prompts a half-bemused noise from him, but he goes along easily — when I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his belly he seems to catch on, though, a sound of amusement vibrating through his chest.

He slides his hand to the back of my neck, twining his fingers into the short hair there, thumb trailing back and forth along the hairline.

T.F.’s too damned scrawny to have much in the way of padding anywhere, but there’s the warm body softness to him here nevertheless, the sweet yield and shift of a living thing whose pliancy belies the supple strength beneath. I rest my cheek against the flat of his stomach and sigh, moving my hand at the small of his back in slow caressing circles.

“Come to bed already,” I murmur, too sleep-softened along the edges to worry overmuch about makin’ sense.

He chuckles, fingers stroking through my hair. “Well, I was on my way, but then I was waylaid by some deplorable fellow in the process. Hell of a thing.”

I grin and turn my face up to him, so that my chin is resting against his belly and my lips brush his skin when I talk. “Huh. Sounds like a real shady character. You want a trustworthy sorta guy to escort you safely the rest of the way?”

“With such dangerous reprobates skulking around in the area, that’s probably for the best,” T.F. nods somberly, fond amusement deepening his voice. He runs his thumb down the bridge of my nose. “Could I afford to hire the services of a strapping upstanding gentleman like yourself, though?”

I make a nonchalant sound in my nose, squeezing him closer against me for a moment. “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, this one’s on the house.”

His thumb drifts down to rest at the upturned corner of my mouth as he grins back at me. “Hey, looks like it’s my lucky day.”

I kiss his stomach and lean back enough so I can start in on the fastenings of his trousers — not with any sort of heat behind it, there’s no hint of sex in the air, but in a weird way this is equally satisfying, the everyday-textured contentment of being close without any particular purpose, being the one to slowly render him naked in front of me for no other reason than that he lets me, his hands still smoothing patiently through my hair while I work.

Once I’ve got all the buttons sorted I run my thumb along the sharp edge of his hip bone until I can tuck it into the waist of his trousers and use it to tug them down. We get them about half-way down his thighs like that before we have to pause for him to shimmy out of them the rest of the way on his own, his hand resting on my shoulder for balance as he does the traditional one-legged hop to extricate his foot. Serves him right for only ever wearing pants that might as well have been painted onto him. I mean, not that I’m complainin’, mind.

“Whoa!” he says, laughing as he almost overbalances at the last hurdle, but my hand shoots out to steady him by the hip before too much disaster can be wrought. “Well, not the smoothest strip tease I’ve ever pulled off, sorry about the inconvenience.”

I nose at the newly revealed crease of his hip over the edge of his underwear. “Eh, that’s okay, if I actually wanted a proper show I’d just suggest a round of strip poker again and sit back and watch while you lose.”

“Oh, that’s a strange yet beautiful dream world you’ve made up for yourself there, Malcolm. It’s touching, really, the things the mind will do to protect itself from the truth. Positively — aah!”

T.F. jumps as I draw some of the skin of his hip between my lips and use them to nip sharply at it. His startled yelp turns into a snigger as I let go, possibly ruining the castigating effects somewhat when I brush my lips soothingly over that spot right after.

“Let that be a lesson to ya,” I say sternly.

“A lesson on what, that your mom was apparently half turtle?”

I grunt, still trailing soft kisses over his skin. “That judge in Piltover was right back then, you are an incorrigible menace to all decent and right-thinking people everywhere.”

“First of all, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Malcolm, thank you. Two, including yourself among the ‘decent and right-thinking’ feels like the invention of some fresh new form of fraud by way of imposture unfolding before my eyes, and it’s an honour. And third, that seems to me to be some very selective memory you have there, considering His Honour Judge Highton had some even more colourful words for you after you blew up the entire north wall of the court building breakin’ me out.”

“He might’ve been given to wearing a damn silly mop on his head, but you couldn’t fault him on his vocabulary,” I concede. Before that whole incident I’d honestly thought the wigs were some sort of practical joke the Pilties would play on gullible outsiders, but as it turns out no, if you get sent to jail in the twin cities they add the indignity of makin’ someone wearing a dead badger on their head break the bad news to you. It’s a strange ol’ world out there, alright. In Bilgewater, where people are much more sensible, the justice system basically boils down to the bounty board, or — if you’ve really managed to make a nuisance of yourself — a bunch of captains may call a temporary ceasefire with each other and go get your ass together. I’ve found that the risk of getting on the bad end of an unfair trial is about the same in both places, though of course the Bilgewater one tends to be harder to come back from if carried out to its fullest. I consider myself a bit of an expert in these things.

T.F. makes a thoughtful sound. “To be fair I don’t think anyone had ever given him cause or inspiration for profanity like you did.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head before he straightens for long enough to work his second foot free as well, standing there in just the sleek silky underpants he somehow seems to have an endless fresh supply of wherever we go. (My money’s on some sinister underground ring of lingerie-oriented tailors across south-eastern Valoran, for the record; when it comes to secret societies the Noxians just can’t help themselves.)

“I do my best. Hang on just one moment, I’ll be right back,” he says and ruffles my hair before he turns around, which I would complain about except that the view is, as previously mentioned, impeccable, and I’m sleepy enough to be magnanimous.

After meticulously folding his trousers and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, T.F. moves over to the table across the room and extinguishes the oil lamp, then whistles under his breath as he produces a card from somewhere — he does this, seemingly from thin air and no matter how little he’s wearing; I prefer not to speculate too much about how, exactly — and lets a little magic into it so it gives off a low glow, only enough to light his way the short walk back across the room, ‘cause in T.F.’s world the stubbing of toes and smacking of shins against unexpected furniture in the dark is somethin’ that happens to other people. That probably says some things about him I’m not ready to go puzzlin’ out at this time of night, and that he wouldn’t want to have anyone go puzzlin’ about too hard in the first place anyway.

When I hold out my hand for him in the dark he smiles and takes it, twining our fingers together, and I use the hold to tug him in and deposit him, in a neat controlled wrestler’s roll held close against me as I lay down, to his side of the bed. He laughs again at that, a surprised delighted sound that edges dangerously close to a giggle but hey, I ain’t no snitch, so who’s gonna testify against him, huh?

The card ends up on the far side of his pillow after the tumble, still giving off a glow, enough to illuminate the bed and lend the shadows around it some warmth. It makes the bed seem a small cozy island, the rest of the world rendered a not-unfriendly ocean of darkness around it.

T.F. looks at me like the world’s most contented castaway, bourgeoning crow’s feet punctuating his smile on either side and fingers still linked with mine. His hair is mussed from the meandering fall onto the bed. If I were only fractionally less about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep, my body might start to get ideas about it. Well, tomorrow is always another day.

With the back of my free hand I brush some of his hair away from his brow, and he cranes into it like a well-pleased cat. Even with the blankets tangled around our feet and the not-quite-right positions we’ve ended up in, having tumbled into place rather than settled ourselves with purpose, everything feels warm and loose and comfortable, like I could fall asleep like this even with the decidedly odd angle my arm is at.

As if sensing that the drowsiness is about to claim me for real, T.F. brings our linked hands up to his face so he can press his lips to my scarred knuckles before he lets go, then reaches to pull the covers over us, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around my shoulder properly before snuggling under it himself, hooking his leg over my thigh as he settles into place. I shift until we fit together, the familiarity of how to rest against each other just right comfortable like an old and well-loved piece of clothing. On a sigh he rests our foreheads together, craning forward the tiny amount needed to brush our mouths together and humming contentedly when I meet him there. It’s a slow kiss, but it lingers, a dry sweet press of lips like one last spark sending the day off down into the gently drifting murk of sleep that’s about to claim me for a few hours.

When it ends — I don’t think either of us was really the first to pull back, at some point the kiss simply, in the way of snowflakes on tongues, melted into something different and less defined with the warmth — there’s a moment when my eyes can still fight against slipping shut. It’s weird, the way you can look at someone every day for years and still not feel like you’ve had your fill. T.F.’s sharp narrow face, his high pointy little cheekbones and mouth still curved with a smile as he watches me back — there’s something to knowing I’m gonna see all that again tomorrow morning that all the damn money on Runeterra couldn’t get you. And take it from me, from what I’ve seen of the world there ain’t a lot of things in this life enough money won’t buy. Stumbling across one of them long before we even knew what we had, by a stroke of little more’n dumb fucking luck… sometimes it feels like the biggest heist we ever pulled.

“Hey, Tobias?” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against his as my eyelids finally give up both the battle and the war and slide closed.

“Hmmm?” he says, cheerfully drowsy as well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmur, because I can’t think of any damn happier thing in the world to say to him.

He wraps his arms around me, his hand stroking meanderingly up and down the scar-crossed span of my back, fingers trailing over my skin with the perfect amount of firmness because he’s taken the time to learn exactly how much pressure it takes to make it comforting. As sleep starts pulling me under to calmer depths I tuck my head under his chin, so my face is pressed to the line of his throat and to his chest. He smells so nice, all warmly real and well-known like my own breathing.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees on a yawn, nuzzling at the top of my head and tightening his arms around me, just for a moment.

I've been trying to write stuff -- literally just anything, no matter how meandering and nonsensical -- to try to break out of a writer's block; it's not really working so far but at least I've got SOMETHING tangible to show for it at the end of the day, so, you know, uh... partial success I guess?? haha

The idea of T.F. having a judge somewhere out there who considers him the One True Nemesis of his career, J. Jonah Jameson style, even though T.F. barely even remembers his name, came from a wonderful conversation with @inversway, and the idea makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it.

ETA: Also put this on AO3, so I have somewhere to put these ficlets that isn't just tumblr! I'm grimly clinging on to this blue hellsite like a obstinate barnacle to the hull of the Titanic, but I do realize it's not the best place to archive uh anything lol

[purple-stuck]

Hi It's me again! I hope my excessive rambling in the tags wasn't too annoying I just really loved that drabble you wrote

If it's not too much can I request something with Sollux and Gamzee meeting in the subjugglator training ranks after Ascension?

I'd really love to hear what your headcanons might be or what fics you take inspiration from about subjugglators off-planet

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Gamzee's breath was perfectly steady, his heartbeat perfectly level, his mind completely calm. Even as he hopped from platform to platform, moving at speeds imperceivable to the naked eye, his body remained impossibly calm. Such was the Messiahs' gift to him and all purplebloods like him. With training, they could command their body to do the impossible.

Gamzee stopped atop a thin pole, claws digging into his perch as he got his barings. A sea of bloodied spikes spread out around him, ensuring him a slow death should he miss even a single pole or platform. But beyond that, lie his goal. His target. The horned outline of which was a mere speck in his vision.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Gamzee felt the wood begin to give way beneath his weight and lept to another perch, hoping between poles and bouncing away before the could bend against him. Thoughtlessly, he reasoned out the closest platform in between leaps. Automatically, he twisted his body to reach them. His body twisted in ways that crack and snap the bones of any other caste. If the graveyard full of mangled bones below him was any indication, even other purples struggled to make such moves.

Soon, Gamzee's shadow was cast over his prey. A club appeared in his hand, upraised so as to crack open his target's skull in one swing.

For the first time since this lesson began, his breath hitched.

Gamzee's feet hit the ground, his momentum stopped dead. His club hung over his target's shoulder.

Breathe. In.

Breathe. Out.

At this distance, Gamzee could see that his target wasn't even a troll at all. Rather, he'd been tasked with assassinating a mannequin, a hard plastic replica of his would be victim. Gamzee felt his posture relax before he pulled his club back and cracked the target's head of with one swing.

Purple paint sprayed over Gamzee as the body hit the floor and he turned to his audience and bowed.

The audience cheered as the lights flashed on, a cacophony of honks, whoops, and cheers as the stage was revealed in full. If he bothered to look towards the pit, Gamzee could see all the remains of the clowns who came before him and failed. He did not look.

"well, would you look at that."

"HE ACTUALLY MANAGED TO PASS."

Two ropes descended down around him, carrying the Twin Instructors, clad in their iconic matching masks. Comedy's voice was sing song, contrasting Tragedy's melancholy just as their half masks contrasted their mood. Gamzee looked up to see half of Tragedy's face grinning down at him.

"still, you haven't quite managed to beat our record."

"MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE HIM GO AGAIN."

The two broke into giggles, with the rest of the tent following. Gamzee heard a few voices call out for an encore and quietly hoped they wouldn't be heard. He didn't have it in him to go another round. He didn't know how Sollux did it so easily, controlling his body they way he did.

Tragedy leaned down and gave him an encouraging pat on the back, causing Gamzee to grin at him tiredly in between pants. Comedy leaned down to his other side, handing him a faygo and a rag.

"OH, BUT HE'S SO WORN OUT. WE WOULDN'T WANT TO BREAK OUR NEW FAVORITE."

"we'd love to share notes, but this isn't your show anymore. head to the lounge, it's time for the next act."

Gamzee chugged the bottle, nearly emptying it in two gulps as he walked off stage. He waved his thanks, to tired to talk, as he shoved his way through the curtains and into the lounge.

Gamzee finished his faygo as he lazily scanned the room. Normally, throwing a bunch of clowns into one room would be a recipe for disaster, but all was strangely quiet. It seemed like the others who passed the test were just as warn out from it as he was. It made him feel better to see his brothers and sisters laying around exhausted, half collapsed against walls or the couch. It made him proud to still be standing.

And then he saw Sollux, looking none the worse for wear as he hogged the couch. He smirked smugly as Gamzee made his way over, scooting over to let the shorter clown collapse next to him. "Jegus, you look like shit."

Gamzee flipped him off, causing Sollux to snort. "And you're acting like shit too. Maybe I'm a bad influence on you."

Gamzee snorted. "Shit man, I thought you didn't want me to be so friendly and clingy around you anymore." He wiped the sweat off his forehead, stopping to look at the facepaint that had melted onto his hand. "Although, a brother's got a point about. I ain't much to look at right now."

Sollux slid his half empty faygo down the table, which Gamzee guzzled happily. "Yeah, body control is hard. I've been doing it ever sense I grew hands and I still eat my swords sometimes. Nevermind the more advanced stuff."

Gamzee slammed the faygo bottle on the table. "Shit, man, my bones hurt. And my veins... and lungs. Fuck."

Sollux grunted and handed him a spare Nintendie Dualscream. "How about something to take your mind of it? It's been awhile sense I kicked your ass in Fiduspawn anyways."

It was Gamzee's turn to snort. "All right, you are on, motherfucker."

~

They were eight rounds in when the new clowns stopped coming in. Gamzee counted only five had made it in after him, but he was more focused on beating Sollux than keeping count. Either he'd gotten better or Sollux had gotten worse. The taller troll used to be able to kick his ass, now they were tied four to four. But, their fifth round was interrupted as two familar shadows were cast over them.

"DID YOU TWO BRING TOYS FROM BACK ON ALTERNIA ALONG?"

"just between the four of us, I've heard that's against the rules."

Gamzee and Sollux froze as the Twin Instructors leaned over them. Even Gamzee could feel everyone in the room staring at them. Gamzee had seen this set up before. Comedy and Tragedy learing over a helpless troll or two. Acting like they were just disappointed, like they were just going to give the rule breaker a stern talking to before they decapitated the mischief maker.

Instead, the twins doubled over into a giggling fit the spread through the room. The trolls around them joined in, some more nervously than others.

"JuSt KiDdInG!"

"WE KNOW OUR HIGHEST SCORERS..."

"....know better than to break the rules."

"AsSuMiNg YoU dId'T cHeAt!"

Sollux and Gamzee pushed themselves to their feet, hands moving to ask about their progress, but the duo pushed their hands aside.

"DON'T BOTHER WITH THAT."

"you're subjugulators now."

"YoU'rE oFfIcIaLlY fUnNy EnOuGh To LiStEn To!"

Gamzee let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He heard Sollux do the same before the cheers erupted around them. Tragedy grabbed his arm and hoisted him into the air with it to bare before the crowd, leaving him and Sollux to gaze at their audience.

"GIVE OUR BOYS A ROUND OF APPLAUSE."

"well, those of you who still have hands anyways."

Gamzee looked over at Sollux, himself being held up for all to see by comedy. It was strange to see Sollux actually look nervous, even if they were seemingly in the Twin's good graces. Sweeps of living according to their capricious whims was enough to instill a lasting fear in anyone.

Even when granted verbal permission to speak, the two didn't make a peep as the twins hefted them over their shoulders. The twins cheerfully waved off the crowd as they carried the two ascendants to their office.

Gamzee grunted as he was dropped into a chair to small for him, hearing Sollux swear off to the right as the same happened to him. Comedy and Tragedy flopped into their chairs on the opposite end of the desk, kicking their feet up on it.

"normally, we'd take the time to talk about boring business shit with you."

"PREP YOUR ASCENSION SPEECH AND ALL THAT BLAH BLAH BLAH."

"BuT lIkE wE sAiD, wE hAvE nOtEs."

Sollux and Gamzee shared a nervous look, before Sollux straightened up and spoke. "What, uh, about exactly?"

Comedy shook a chidding finger in their faces.

"WHY, YOU BOTH HESITATED."

"tripped at the finish line."

"DeRaIlEd A pErFeCtLy GoOd ShOw."

Gamzee looked over at Sollux in suprise. Sollux... hesitated? But he was used to killing shit. Hell, that was his idea of a date night. Gamzee hardly had time to consider it before Tragedy leaned in his direction.

"now you we perfectly understand. you've never dabbled with fresh paint before."

"YOU'VE ONLY BEEN OFF THE SLIME FOR JUST THREE SWEEPS AT THAT."

"BuT iT's YoUr BuDdY wE'rE cUrIoUs AbOuT."

They both turned to Sollux expectantly. He scratched the back of hia head. "I... well. Something made me reconsider." He rested his hands in his head. "There was.... a kill I'd been planning for a really long time. Something... big. Special. And, when I landed that kill, when I did kill her and savor killing her... it just felt empty?"

Gamzee knew what he meant. The image of a cart drenched in Cerulean blood flashes in his mind. "I'd... rather not get any more into it than that."

The Twins tented their hands as they nodded sympathetically. Comedy even reached over to pat him on the shoulder.

"oh, we've both been there before."

"I DID ESPECIALLY."

Tragedy bent down and fished around beneath the desk, nearly banging his golden mask on it in the process.

"I STILL REMEMBER MY FIRST KILL."

He placed a white horned skull on the desk, carefully preserved and cleaned even though it seemed to have been centuries old. Still, the more Gamzee looked at it, the more it looked slightly off. The horns seemed to be... fake somehow. Like they were made of some kind of old plastic. And the skull's facial structure was all wrong. Too thin, too light, too delicate looking. It looked like a troll but not quite. If Karkat were here, he'd call it a mockery of troll kind.

"you'd think he'd be honored."

"MY VERY FIRST KILL. SHE WAS SO CLEVER AND BRUTAL THAT I NEVER THOUGHT I'D PULL IT OFF."

He rubbed the skull fondly, clearly nostalgic. Part of him sounded almost remorseful over it too, strangely enough. Like talking about a long dead friend or a beloved canceled show.

"BuT iT fElT sO eMpTy."

Sollux cleared his throat, clearly annoyed, even if he couldn't outright say it. Gamzee couldn't blame him. The twins liked to talk about their first two kills a lot. "So, what's your point?"

Tragedy sighed wistfully and Comedy playfully roled her eyes and elbowed him to get him back on topic.

"THE POINT IS, I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO IT."

"and when it's over, it always feels...."

"AnTiClImAcTiC."

Sollux hummed and considered this, but Gamzee could tell he wasn't quite buying it. Gamzee could tell that something else was needling away at him. Something deeper than just that.

"you'll probably get that feeling too."

Gamzee straightened up as he realized they were addressing him again.

"HERE'S A TIP. DON'T LOOK INTO THEIR EYES. IT'LL ONLY MAKE YOU MISS THEM MORE."

Comedy slid two communicators across the desk.

"YOU CAN TALK IT OUT WITH YOU QUADS, NOW THAT YOU'RE ALLOWED TO SEE THEM AGAIN. YOUR BRONZE HEART AND RUST DIAMOND PROBABLY MISS YOU."

They nodded at Sollux.

"and the Empress will be happy to see her favorite clown is safe."

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 8

(Y/n)'s POV

I know someone at camp resents Percy and me because one night, I come into the cabin alone and find a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article takes me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I get, the more the words float around on the page.

GIRL, BOY, AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT

By Eileen Smythe

Sally Jackson, son Percy, and daughter (Y/n) are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.

Mother, daughter, and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.

Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past.

Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his sister's and his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson, (Y/n), Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free Crimestoppers hotline.

The phone number is circled in black marker.

I wad up the paper and throw it away, flopping down on my bunk on the far edge of the cabin under the window facing the sea.

I remain silent as Percy walks into the cabin, flopping down onto his bunk as well.

That night, I have the worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down!

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up, sure I'm falling.

I am still in bed in Cabin Three. My body tells me it's morning, but it's dark outside, and thunder rolls over the hills.

A storm is brewing.

I hadn't dreamed that . . .

I hear a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?" Percy asks, sounding uncertain.

Grover trots inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see the two of you."

"Why?" I ask, peeking through the curtain separating mine and Percy's side of the cabin.

'He wants to kill . . . I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, Percy and I get dressed and follow, sure we were in huge trouble.

For days, Percy and I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that we were declared children of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figure it's just a crime for us to be alive. The other gods had probably been debating on the best way to punish us for existing, and now Mr. D is ready to deliver their verdict.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looks like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain is coming in our direction. I ask Grover if we'd need an umbrella.

"No," Grover says. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy points at the storm, 'What the heck is that, then?"

Grover glances uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realize that he's right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm . . .

This one's huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin are playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysius's twins - Castor and Pollux - are walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everyone is going about their normal business, but they look tense; they keep their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Percy, and I walk up the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sits at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sits across the table in his fake wheelchair. They are playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D says without looking up. "Our little celebrities."

I wait.

"Come closer," Mr. D says. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortals, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashes across the clouds; thunder shakes the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus grumbles.

Chiron faints interest in his pinochle cards and Grover cowers by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus says, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron puts in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus says. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D - " Chiron warns.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relents. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rises, and the invisible players' cards drop onto the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you two must do."

Dionysus picks up a playing card, twists it, and it becomes a plastic rectangle. A security pass. He snaps his fingers. The air seems to fold and bend around him. He becomes a hologram, a wind, then he is gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiles at me and Percy, but he looks tired and strained. "Sit, Percy,(Y/n), please. And Grover."

We do.

Chiron lays his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, (Y/n)," he says. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Just hearing the name makes me shudder.

Chiron probably wants me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I don't feel like lying.

"It scared me," I admit. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You two will meet worse. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done?" Percy asks. "With what?"

"You're quest, of course," Chiron says. "Will you accept it?"

I glance at Grover, who is crossing his fingers.

"Sir," I say, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaces. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbles across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I can see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I guess. "They're fighting over something valuable . . . something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchange looks.

Chiron shoots forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover says, his eyes bright.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron orders.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes sparkle with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine," Chiron strokes his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, (Y/n), you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughs, looking nervous, "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warns. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron says, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?" I guess.

"Stolen," Chiron corrects.

"By whom?" I ask though I guessed what he was going to say.

"By you two," Chiron says and Percy's jaw drops.

"At least"—Chiron holds up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon argued. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't - We didn't -" Percy goes to say.

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron says. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you two as his children. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief.

"But we've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron and Grover glance nervously at the sky. The clouds don't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They are rolling straight over the valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy . . . ?" Grover says. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggests. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy.

"The Golden Net?" I guess again. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in it and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler?"

"Correct," Chiron says. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you two have come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But we're just kids!" Percy protests.

"Percy," Grover cuts in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, and that he's father, not one, but two mortal heroes who might be used as a weapon against you . . . Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I - we didn't do anything, Poseidon - our dad - he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Percy asks, and I remain silent in thought.

Chiron sighs. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a fullfledged war would look like, Percy? (Y/n)?"

"Bad?" Percy guesses.

"I'd guess that it would be like nature at war with itself," I say and Chiron nods.

"Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight," Chiron adds to (Y/n)'s statement.

"Bad," Percy repeats.

"And you, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

And then, it starts to rain. Volleyball players stop their game and start in stunned silence at the sky.

We had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of us.

"So we have to find that bolt," I say. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron says, "than to have the son and daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property.

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Percy asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression is grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Percy asks.

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I swallow thickly. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I exchange a glance with Percy, then Grover, who nods encouragingly.

Easy for him, I think. We're the ones Zeus wants to kill.

"All right," Percy says. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron says. "Go upstairs, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

. . .

"Well?" Chiron asks us.

We slump into our chairs at the pinochle table. "She said we would retrieve what was stolen.

Grover sits forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron presses. "This is important."

My ears are still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She said we would go west and face a god who had turned. We would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover says.

Chiron doesn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," Percy says. "That's about it."

He studies Percy's face, then meets my green gaze. "Very well. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I get the feeling he knows we're holding something back, and he's trying to make us feel better.

"Okay," Percy says, looking anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron says."if Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain."

"Someone else who wants to take over?" I guess.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Chiron nods. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbles out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh - what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminds him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but - but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protests. "Especially if he has found out Percy and (Y/n) are children of Poseidon . . ."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continues. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy and (Y/n) to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill these young half-bloods before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I mutter. "That's two major gods who want to kill us."

"But a quest to . . ." Grover swallows. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy and (Y/n) must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

A strange fire burns in my stomach. The weirdest thing is, it isn't fear. It's anticipation. The desire for revenger. Hades had tried to kill me two times so far with the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It is his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he is trying to frame me, my dad, and my brother for a theft we hadn't committed.

Grover is trembling now; he'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy had to complete a quest with me and Percy so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that is, but how can I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said we were destined to fail?" This is a suicide mission.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy tells Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron says. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used," Percy says.

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed you and (Y/n) now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs the two of you."

My dad needs us.

Emotions roll around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I don't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.

3rd Person POV

Percy looks at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said . . . I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

(Y/n) gets the feeling that there is a lot he wasn't telling them about the prophecy, but she decides that she couldn't worry about that at the moment. After all, she and Percy were hiding back information too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy says. "We're supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron says.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

(Y/n) looks over at Grover, who gulps down the ace of hearts.

"But I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asks weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy tells him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh . . ." He shifts his hooves. "No . . . it's just that satyrs and underground places . . . well . . ." He takes a deep breath, then stands, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his t-shirts. "You saved my life, (Y/n), Percy. If . . . if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let the two of you down."

Percy feels so relieved that he wanted to cry, though he didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover is the only friend she'd ever had for longer than a few months. Percy isn't sure what a satyr can do against the forces of the dead but he feels better knowing he'd be with them.

"All the way, G-man," Percy turns to Chiron. "The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looks surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

Percy's POV

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane -"

"No!" Grover shrieks. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me and (Y/n) anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.

"Percy, think," Chiron says. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackles and thunder booms.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, not looking up at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron says. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered if you will accept her help."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Gee," I say, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a suicide quest like this?"

The air shimmers behind Chiron.

Annabeth Chase becomes visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," she says. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks flush. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth is, I do. I need all the help I can get.

"A quartet," I say. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron says. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashes. Rain pours down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron says. "I think you should all get packing."

Word Count: 4018 words