#its so not apollo's birthday anymore but he will always be the birthday guy

[hyenakat]

birthday lunch <3

(for @/TuxPenguins (happy birthday!!) and also @/socialhermtcrab, hanru n @/Wotokay_)

[georgescatcafe]

the rising chariot — 1

rating: t  warning/s: none pairing/s: platonic dream team, karl jacobs/sapnap genres/tags: percy jackson and the olympian au, friendship, angst summary: Nick Pappas isn’t sure it’s normal for teenagers to be sent across the United States on a quest that could potentially kill them, but Nick has started to realize that everything he thought was normal is entirely false. George Davies doesn’t particularly want to spend three consecutive days with this new camper and that son of Hermes who snagged his win in Capture the Flag two weeks ago, but he knows he has to suck it up and go with them, no matter how irritating they may be. Clay Bryce just wants to prove himself and show that he’s more than that troublesome kid from Cabin Eleven, but even as the leader of this quest, he’s not sure how to when Nick has fire powers and George is practically capable of mind-control.

Yet what they feel and want will mean nothing if they don’t complete their quest. When a petty feud between gods has Apollo threatening to take the Sun from the sky, the three must head out to stop him, but not just that—they’re in a race against an ancient enemy of the god, one who definitely will try and kill him if it gets to Apollo first.

+ao3 +masterpost

Despite what the papers said, Nick didn’t mean to burn down his school. The only reason he wasn’t going to prison was because no one died and the police couldn’t find any solid evidence that it was his fault. That is, other than the fact that when the building stopped burning, there was just him standing in its charred remains, not a single hair on his head harmed. But seriously, he didn’t mean to burn down his school. Yeah, he hated sitting through English as much as the next kid, but he didn’t hate it enough to commit arson.

Not to mention he was turning sixteen in three days. Why would he actively try and get into trouble three days before his birthday?

But that wasn’t really a new problem. The burning, that is. Maybe on a grander scale this time—he’d never burnt down a whole building before—but he’d always had an unlucky relationship with fire. Or, his mom would call it lucky, if you overlooked the whole I burn everything I touch thing. She used to just laugh at the soot sprinkled across the living room carpet and run her fingers through his hair, telling him to only play with fire if he knows he won’t get burned. (And he’s never gotten burned.)

The last time he saw her, she was staring at him through the back window of a police car.

After that, it was like she was never there. Nick still thought about her, though, when his stepdad, a rigid, heavyset man, kissed his new wife on the cheek and patted Nick on the head like he’s still five and not fifteen-and-eleven-months, and he thought about her when it was his turn to stare at his family through the back window of a police car.

It was just a single policeman, polite and unassuming as he explained the full situation to Nick’s parents, and his parents just wanted to get this out of the way, so when the cop told Nick to get in the car, they didn’t protest, and Nick took his seat, the window cool under his palms as he watched his stepdad and stepmom get smaller and smaller.

“I really didn’t mean to do it,” Nick finally said, turning back to the officer.

“I know, son,” the cop in the front seat replied.

“Then why are you taking me?” he asked.

The cop didn’t reply.

Nick turned back to the window, watching building after building pass by. He tried to read some of the signs, but the letters got all jumbled up, and eventually, he just sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the window, pretending that the vibrations of it didn’t bother him. By the time he bothered sitting up again, the bustling city had disappeared and field after field stretched endlessly around them. Nick curled a hand around the seatbelt pressing into his chest.

“Where are we going?”

Again, the cop didn’t reply.

Nick tugged at the seatbelt. “Can I not ask questions anymore?” He tried to open the door, but it was pointless. The thing was locked, and every time he tried to undo the lock, it would pop right back into place. NIck turned back to the cop. “Look, man, I really didn’t mean to do it, and if you believe me, that’s great, so I don’t know why you still want me here. If you just let me go home—”

“That’s enough, Nick Pappas,” the cop finally snapped, and Nick’s eyes widened at the sound. His voice was raspy, and he pronounced his ‘s’s weird. “Be a good kid and sit quietly.”

“I just want to know where you’re taking me!” Nick banged his fist on the window, only wincing for the shortest second when it sent a tingle back up his arm.

“I said enough!” And then the car was veering off the road, Nick was flung into the window, seatbelt digging painfully into his chest and waist, ears ringing from hitting his head on the glass, and the cop was twisting out of his seat, stretching out over him, hat falling aside to reveal long hair, lips parting to reveal sharp, glistening fangs.

Nick scrambled back as far as he could, seatbelt constricting his movements. “I don’t want trouble! What is wrong with you?” He kicked at the cop, letting out a strangled gasp when his foot met soft flesh and not hard muscle. “You’re not even a guy!”

“And you are no uselesssss mortal either!” the cop hissed, grinning even as its fangs pop, terrifying and fascinating all at—the cop sprung forward, and nope, just terrifying, not even close to fascinating.

Nick was never particularly flexible, but one time he heard about a bus flipping over with a kid inside it and the kid’s mom pushed the bus back over all on her own in some crazy fit of adrenaline. He had the hazy thought that something similar might be happening then as his foot makes contact with the cop’s face and the fangs dig into the sole of his shoe instead of his face. In the seconds he had to spare, Nick quickly undid his seatbelt, flailing as the cop grabbed at his shoe and pulled, throwing off his balance. The satisfaction of smacking it in the head was small in comparison to the fear that welled when he saw rage flicker in its eyes.

“I don’t even know what you are!” he choked out when the cop-not-cop made another pass at him. “Let me go!” With each word he aimed another kick at its head, but most of his kicks missed, and dread continued to fill him up as all his pathetic fighting did was enrage the thing.

“You ssssstupid boy!” the maybe-cop-probably-not seethed. “I am Sssssandra the Sssssupreme! One of the mossst powerful dracaena in the mortal world right now!”

The information meant nothing to Nick. He finally landed a kick on the center of her chest, sending her back into the front seat as he worked furiously at getting the door open. “Okay! And I’m Nick Pappas and you really don’t want to hurt me!”

“Oh, but I do!” Sandra hissed because that’s what she was doing, no way else to describe it. “Your death would be sssssplendid for me!”

“Not for me, though!” Nick argued, screeching when rough hands grabbed at his waist and fangs were once again in his line of sight. “Let me out!”

He banged against the door some more before turning back to the—what’d she say?— dracaena, heart pounding as nails dug into his waist and fangs filled his vision. He swallowed, wondering if it would be better or not to look death in the face before deciding it’d be worse, a lot worse, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Nick was mentally preparing himself for the end, when there was a muffled noise from outside the car, and then the shattering of glass. His eyes flew open even as shards of glass continued to rain down onto him and the snake lady from the window opposite them. And there, between all those sharp edges, stood a short ginger kid that, had Nick been in a better state of mind, he would remember from his classes. As it was, however, all he saw was his savior, holding a hammer tightly in his hands, cinnamon hair glowing in the fading sunlight, and eyes absolutely filled with terror.

“Are you okay?” the kid shouted as the dracaena screamed above Nick, who did his best to push her off of him and open the door from the outside.

“We have to go!” Nick replied, grabbing the boy by the wrist and running, uncaring of where they went, so long as it was away. “That thing back there is not a cop!”

“You’re right!” the kid agreed, looking quickly over his shoulder before letting out a sharp noise and running faster.

With a bit more space to breathe and think, Nick could finally recall who he was: Floris, who, although they weren’t very close, he sat with more often than not, the dude letting Nick copy his notes and never pressuring him about paying attention in class—except for certain times, like in World History, when they were talking about Greece, and Nick had said his family was from there, and Floris turned to him with wide eyes and asked, “You know?” As if everyone didn’t have at least some clue as to where their family was from. After that, Floris would nudge him every time he started to nod off, pointing to the screen and reminding him to listen to the teacher. It was weird, but he just brushed it off as some ginger thing. Gingers are weird , man.

That seemed truer than ever now, watching Floris run with a hammer and his lopsided gait. “Do you know what that thing was?” Nick asked, shouting over the wind that had picked up in the fields.

“Do you?” Floris replied.

Nick checked over his shoulder. He could still see the car, left behind in a ditch, glass twinkling like stars across the asphalt, and—“You’re about to find out!” He took the hammer from Floris and threw it at the dracaena , cursing when all she did was duck out of the way. It doesn’t even hit one of her tails and oh, wow, she has two tails. The day just kept getting weirder.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered to himself, even as Floris yelled at their lack of a weapon.

“You have to do something!” Floris argued, turning to face him, gripping him by the shoulders and shaking him. “Or she’ll kill us both!”

“I know,” Nick swallowed, his own hands coming up to cover Floris’s, “I know.” He turned back to the dracaena, who continued to approach undeterred. “I can—I have to do this.” He stumbled as she hissed at him, fangs on full display once again. “Um,” he held out his hands in a stop motion, “look—we wouldn’t be better off dead! You want us to live! You really want us to—”

“Nick!” Floris snapped. “What are you doing?”

“Something!” Nick replied. “I’m doing something!”

“That’s not something!” Floris shook. “Doing something is burning down the school because you heard a kid talking bad about your mom—do that again!”

“I didn’t mean to burn down the school!” Nick looked at Floris in desperation, only for the dracaena to reach them, hissing and cursing their names. “I just—I wanted—I didn’t—”

“You are the ssssame as her,” the dracaena’s words became clear now that she was closer, “ssstupid, pathetic, unable to ssssave the one who needssss you most. Prepare to die, Nick Pappssss, son of—”

“Shut up!” Nick shoved at the dracaena, but that wasn’t what got her to stop. His hands were engulfed in flames, pressing into the snake lady’s police uniform, setting the cloth ablaze, sending smoke into the air and forcing a scream out of her throat. He pressed harder into her chest. “Shut up about my mom! You don’t know her! She didn’t do anything wrong! Shut up!”

He held his hands to her chest as she burned, his own chest heaving, lungs working in overtime as his brain attempted to understand everything it just witnessed. Everything it just experienced.

The dracaena’s screaming finally stopped, and then, there was just quiet.

Nick watched as her ash blew away into the wind, sunlight catching it and spinning it into gold. Flames flickered between his fingers before he curled his hands into fists. He turned to Floris. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“You,” Floris said timidly, “just slayed a monster.”

Nick grimaced.

Together, they walked in a tense silence, the sun setting to their right, moon rising to their left, up until Floris cleared his throat.

“What she said, about your mother—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’d be good to, though,” Floris tried. “It’s not good to keep all those things to yourself like that. They eat at you.”

“I think I know what’s eating me and what’s not, thanks.” Nick kicked a pebble, sending it clattering down the road ahead of them. “Talking—feelings talking—isn’t really my thing.”

“Still,” Floris said, “it’s worth a shot.”

Nick frowned, staring out at the open road ahead of them, town still a bit away. “What does it even matter to you?” He looked to the other. “You barely know me. We just sit next to each other in class. Who cares about my mom?”

“You do.” Floris stopped to pick a dandelion from the weeds growing along the road. He held it out to Nick. “And I thought we were friends.”

“We’re not in elementary school,” Nick replied, but he accepted the dandelion anyway. He puckered his lips, blowing out a stream of air and sending the seeds flying. 

“Did you wish for anything?” Floris asked, watching the seeds scatter throughout the sky.

Nick dropped the leftover stem to the ground. “No. And if I had, I wouldn’t tell.” He crushed the stem underfoot. 

They kept walking.

The sun set as they went, making the asphalt beneath their shoes glitter and shine. Not a single car passed, and Nick couldn’t stop the unease that crept up on him as they left the cop car behind them.

“Hey,” Floris said. “It’s fine.”

Nick looked over at him, disbelieving. Though no longer racing, his heart still pounded in his chest, and his limbs felt like jello, loose and clumsy. It was hard to imagine going home and sleeping, like he hadn’t just almost been killed.

“I mean it,” Floris continued. “You won. It won’t be coming back any time soon. You survived.”

Nick nodded. He survived. He’s not dead—he’s breathing in fresh air, listening to the night breeze, watching the streetlights reflect on the road. “It’s just,” he made a vague motion with his hand, “scary.”

With the action, he found himself watching his fingers as they curled and splayed. His hand, which had been encased by fire not long ago, skin unblemished and tan. As if there had never been any fire there in the first place. He let it fall back to his side.

He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to think about it at all.

They continued their walk in silence.

By the time they stopped in front of Nick’s doorstep, the moon was halfway through the sky, and Floris yawned every three seconds next to him. Nick straightened, clearing his throat. “Thanks,” he said. “For earlier. I could’ve died without you.”

Floris studied him. Nick stared back. Eventually, Floris reached a conclusion, whatever it may be, and gave a shrug. “You would’ve done what you had to do eventually.” Nick opened his mouth, but he continued: “I’m happy to help, though. That’s what I’m here for. Seriously.”

Nick frowned as the ginger bid him a cheery goodnight before turning on his heel and leaving, Nick standing alone in the doorway.

When Floris was gone from view, Nick faced the door, wiggling the doorknob to find it locked. He sighed, pulling out his house key. His brain was still struggling to process… everything, and his body was trembling minutely from shock and leftover adrenaline. He felt completely drained, exhausted, ready to collapse at the first sight of a cushion. It was brute strength he used in making it to his room and into bed, where he fell onto his Paris-themed comforter (don’t ask) and fell into what seemed to be the hardest sleep of his life. Right before he slipped into dreams, he wondered if perhaps he had died in the cop car that day, and this was all just an extra long hallucination.

[interbad]

Greek Gods

Summary: You got to places, but you don’t really remember how.

Warnings: Smut (of course) Angst

Also major character death

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 1,610

A/N: yes I had a cut of tea with Lucifer while writing this

You don't know how you ended up in a hot and humid motel room in the middle of Istanbul.

It felt like yesterday when you were on a mission, one that you enjoyed because you didn't have to do much. And the weekend before that you celebrated Bruce’s birthday and you were having the time of your life.

And now, you didn't know anything anymore.

Right now you on the balcony partly drunk. A bottle of vodka in one hand over half of it is gone. You inhaled and exhaled, a puff of smoke appearing the breeze hitting your skin, your other hand clamped down on hard metal railing your knuckles near breaking your skin. Tired was the best way you could describe yourself right now. There was still blood all over you, on your hands, cheeks, and forehead. There were a few cuts on your cheeks and forehead, you didn't feel them.

You were waiting for Steve to get out of the shower, you could get in with him but you didn't feel like it. 

You heard the bathroom door open, you didn't bother to look back. The damp sound of his feet on the wooden floor echoed throughout the room. You felt his calloused hands wrap around your waist. 

“You need to go wash up.” His voice sounded distant, like it was being carried by the wind. You didn't move- you didn't want to. Your mind started to flashback to that day.

A day you didn't want to remember but you do. Everyday.

“Y/n look at me-” He turned you around, your head hung low. He lifted your chin with his thumb and he looked into your eyes. You don't know why but you snapped.

“Hey, Clinntt-” you slurred “Missed you buddy- where did you go- have you seen Tony?”

“Y/N!” Steve whisper-yelled at you. His hands on your shoulder shaking you. You bopped him on his nose.

“Come on we gotta get you clean.” He dragged you into the bathroom, vodka still in hand as you downed some more. The bathroom was an ugly shade you yellow almost like mold with paper thin-looking walls, yellowed tiled floor and the yellow light above.

You let out a laugh, Steve looked so big compared to the small room.

“Hey, Stevie- you gonna wash me up- I just saw Clint- we were looking for Tony- seen em?”

He just sighed as he started to strip you of the blood-soaked uniform. He turned on the water to a warm but light spray. He only had some boxers on so he stripped and stepped in with you. Steve grabs the soap a washcloth and starts to wash you. You let out a small moan that turned into a whimper as he cleaned where your wounds were.

“Sorry doll” he cooed.

“It's fine” you whispered and pecked his nose “Where did everyone go, I can't find Tony and I only saw Clint- It's like their gone-”

A minute or so passed before you heard a soft sniffle and sob, you looked up and saw Steve crying, only you could tell his tears from the shower water. It was like his facade was broken he looked so strong and broken and he looked beautiful. It hurt Steve to see you like this broken and losing your mind he watched you hold the lifeless bodies of the people you loved most. He tried to hold it in to stay strong for you. It was the only thing he could do for you right now.

 He cleaned the blood off your face and kissed your forehead. He rinsed the soap off and then stepped out to wrap you up, and carry you to your bed. Gathering your clothes he helped you put them on and laid down with you and spooned you from behind. You heard another sniffle.

You faced him and saw him crying.

“Stevie,” you whisper. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, he hid his face in your chest and you let him as you bury your face in his neck. You start to drift off to sleep.

You have the same nightmare you been having for the past few weeks.

________________________________________________________________

Two and a half months ago

You and Steve stepped off the Quinjet as the fresh New York air hit you in the face.

“Good to be home” you sighed.

“You know it” Steve smiled at you. “15 till debrief, you know where to be.”

“Gotcha Captain.” You smirked

When you walked in the facility, you noticed it was awfully quiet almost eerie. You think much of it you just thought everyone went out or something. Heading to your room you changed clothes and headed to the conference room but decided to head to the common room instead for a snack.

That's when you let out the most blood-curdling scream.

Clint, Sam, and Bucky were slumped over on the couch with blood on them. You rushed over to them as Steve came running in. You checked their pulses.

Nothing.

“no” you whispered “no no no no no No NO” You kept repeating it like it would bring them back. You slumped on the floor with Clint’s body and held him tight as if you let go hell slip away from you. Sitting in his blood you started to scream which turned in to a sob as Steve held Bucky and Sam.

Tony-

You got up and ran as fast as you could to the lab running into walls along the way. 

“ no no no no no no” You shoved the door open- and that's where you saw him and Bruce lying in their blood Tony with his favorite wrench in hand still and Bruce with his cracked glasses. You fell in the puddle not caring and held Tony letting out the most heart reaching sobs. Steve rushed in and saw them he stood there motionless with tears in his eyes. 

You got up and ran toward the gym and saw Natasha and Wanda. You dropped to your knees, Steve walked in and you both lost it. You walked in the common and started throwing and destroying stuff. You punched holes in the walls and started picking up stuff with a strength you didn't know you had. Your hands were bloody and bruised and Steve stood there he let you be angry and cry. He knows how it feels.

________________________________________________________________

**

You continued to scream until we felt a pair of hands jolt you. You continued to thrash until you were you jolted awake.

“Y/N!” Steve yelled. You opened your eyes tear-filled, you were back at the motel. Steve squished you in a hug as you cried in his chest.

“I don't want to lose you.” You cried

“Your not, I’ll always be right here.” He kissed you hard as he climbed on top of you. 

“And I’ll make feel all better” he cooed. He started to travel down south to your core. As he pulled down his pair of boxers you were wearing, the light brush of his incoming beard grazed your tights your let out another sob. His mouth attached to your clit you sob became a moan. It was the only way he knew how to comfort you now.

**

As the days, weeks and months went on you two killed at least over 1000 hydra agents. S.H.I.E.L.D didn't even try to look for you two. They wouldn't like would they would find.

Your bites got gritter.

Your hearts got colder.

Your minds lost.

 **

You were in Berlin when he fucked you after killing some agents their bodies on the ground floor. It didn't matter to you, at this point, nothing else mattered.

The years of smiles were peeling away and it revealed what you were at the center.

Monsters.

**

In Romania, he fucked you senseless.

All you wanted to do was feel pain-pleasure it didn't matter.

But not happiness.

Because the pain was the most real thing you could ever feel.

Steve changed the color of his suit to black with red outlines. Why still have the title of “Captain America” with the countless people he killed? Yeah they weren’t innocent but still, that doesn't change things.

Just like it doesn't change the fact that everyone he loved but you were dead.

**

You went to Japan and killed a couple of hundred people.

It's funny how you remembered that Wanda liked Japan.

She never got to see it herself.

He grabbed your hair and fucked you against the wall right before you guys set the place on fire and watched it burn.

You would still have your mood swings and times you would act like you were talking to the team. Remembering the memories you had left beside a few pictures.

**

You made it to Greece. It’s funny because you loved Greece and its beauty.

You two stayed in the resort in Athens on the water.

When Steve was pounding into you the morning suns glow shone on both of you.

You saw that side of that you haven't seen in about a year and a half now. 

His pureness and true beauty.

You looked also equally as breathtaking, the afterglow of sex on you.

You two looked like Greek Gods bodies perfectly chiseled from marble.

Like Persephone and Hades with your darkness.

Enyo and Ares with your love for war and destruction.

Eros and Aphrodite with your beauty.

Apollo and Athena with your love for the arts.

Hercules and Megara because at some point you were heroes.

But couldn't protect the people you love most.

Just another Greek tragedy 

[headquarters90]

Following Through (Warrior of the Source 16)

Pairing: Darkiplier x French Goddess!Reader, Reader x Original Characters (Platonic/Family), Reader x Greek Gods/Goddesses!Characters

Words: 2,353 words

Warnings: Possible angst, depending on how you look at it

A/N: Hey guys! So, this is being uploaded on my birthday so happy birthday to me. This is almost over! Just one more part. However, the series is not over! There will be a sequel series, still thinking of a name of it but stay tuned for it!

Series Masterlist

The only noise that filled the air the pacing steps of a Monstre and Dark constantly sent him annoyed looks as he stood with his back against a wall and his arms crossed.

“Will you just sit?” hissed the entity and Sébastian whipped around to raise an eyebrow at him. “Your pacing is annoying.”

“The fact you are still here surprises me. Maybe we are wrong about you,” Sébastian offered, watching as the entity’s eyes narrowed at him.

“You must be the Monstre of Annoyance,” Dark muttered.

“Actually, Monstre of Wisdom and Warcraft but that’s a close second,” he chipped, walking up to the bed you rested on.

Dark snorted at the response, carefully watching the Monstre lift his hand to brush against your cheek. He felt the same annoyance he felt when Ares had made an appearance, the same annoyance that showed when Apollo spoke a line that others side wasn’t far from what you once said.

The emotions he felt was no doubt because of the Mark – or maybe it wasn’t. He had lied when he said that you didn’t hide the book quick enough. You did for him not to read but during your avoidance of him, he had gone searching for you, discovering the book. That was when he decided to send Anti out to fetch you.

“I would watch the jealousy, Dark.”

His eyes shot to the Monstre who held a knowing smirk on his lips and a scowl found its way onto Dark’s.

“I wonder how much energy Ivy would get from you.”

“Like she would dare come near here,” Dark scoffed and Sébastian raised an eyebrow at the entity before glancing at your sleeping form. “Who is she not friends with,” he deadpanned and the Monstre titled his head towards the ceiling in thought.

“A majority of angels, God, Jesus, the Monstres, the Titans, any pantheon that isn’t Greek or French...well, she might be okay with the Norse pantheon. That’s half of who Julie is. But then-”

“I get it,” Dark spoke dryly as his eyes fell on you. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that you were friends with anyone in Hell. You lived in the French Underworld after all and visited the Greek one whenever.

“But then again,” Sébastian continued and Dark looked at him in annoyance, “she treats everyone as her equal so saying she’s friends with everyone isn’t the correct term. She’s friendly with everyone. She’s only friends with those she has a connection with or helps her get an advantage on certain aspects – like going to war against William.”

“Get an advantage?”

“Lucifer’s General, for example,” Sébastian stated. “While the General had gone through a lot, Y/N doesn’t consider her a close friend but, because of the General’s abilities and-”

“Her ranking-”

“No, and because of her leading the Hellhounds,” the Monstre corrected. “The Hellhounds are very talented beings themselves.”

“Then Ivy must be like that as well.”

“Ivy is a close friend. Someone she can talk too if she couldn’t find herself to talk to Angel or André since they share a similar past. Julie is a close friend as well but those two are similar in personality so it was expected.”

Dark’s eyes fell on you as the information processed. It made sense, thinking back at the mention of what you called the War and who Ares was. It seemed like you took on him as your lover during the War, giving you an advantage. Sounded like something he would do.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Sébastian questioned as Dark watched you sit up with a grimace, rubbing your forehead.

“Like I got hit by a truck.”

“You look it, Goddess,” Dark claimed and he raised an eyebrow as your eyes turned to his, surprise filling them. He knew why too. He stayed. “Don’t look so surprised. No one would take me back.”

Sébastian raised an eyebrow at the entity but made no comment as he placed a hand on your forehead with a soft hum.

“Dark, go get Hades.”

“Why the hell do I have too?”

“Just do it.”

Dark grumbled under his breath as he shot the Monstre an annoyed look before walking out the door.

~

“We can’t just sit around and wait anymore,” Makaria spoke. “We shouldn’t be giving them the element of surprise. Haven’t they learned enough yet?”

“I’m all ready for this to be done and over with, daughter, but we have no choice,” Hades spoke. “We have no idea on a location to even give us an element of surprise.”

“Like Y/N and Hecate couldn’t pinpoint the location!��

“Makaria,” Hades warned, his eyes glancing at you from across the way. “I don’t think Y/N would deem them ready anyways.”

“Bella-”

“We all know Y/N is supposed to have the Crown,” Bellatrix added. “Your father does not bare the mark on his shoulder like the rest of the lovers. I’m not supposed to have the Crown.”

“We all know but her,” Iris butted in. “But Makaria is right. He’s already attacked Y/N.”

“Which, by the way, happened last time. The only difference is that he didn’t kidnap her. He revealed himself in front of her and Dark, found a way to distract, and did it,” Angel pointed out and the others agreed. “However, the only other two that would deem it would be Isabelle and Trystan.”

“Why them?”

“Because they know how William is,” you spoke as you joined them, only having caught the beginning and ending of the conversation. “However, we could always-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Hades warned as Angel pursed her lips. “It is not a good idea.”

“Actually-”

“No.”

“Hades, if you just-”

“Not happening.”

“Hades-”

“No.”

“Stop being an overbearing parent,” Bellatrix deadpanned as you turned your head to meet Dark’s gaze as he entered the room. “At least let her explain the idea before turning it down.”

“Dark would agree with me!”

“Why am I being brought into something?” the entity questioned and Hades’ eyes shifted towards him. “Was the Goddess the only one who realized I entered?”

“Yes,” Emma spoke as she turned to look at him. “Maybe Angel as well but Y/N is able to sense presences.”

“I didn’t use the ability,” you spoke.

“He knows,” Angel added and you nodded. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter if he would agree with you or not, Hades. She has a right to explain why and how it would work.”

“Ah, yes, let’s just give William what he wants. Without backup. Without anyone there to make sure she doesn’t fall to her panic attacks,” Hades spoke sarcastically and you raised an eyebrow.

“I’d have backup.”

“Ah, yes, because we will be so far.”

“For one, Sébastian is bound to me, Hades, and if you are so worried, Dark can turn me in.”

“What?” Dark demanded and you turned to look at him. “Do you realize how much you prove to be as foolish as I believed?”

“No, no, that could work,” André butted in. “He has your man, the whole reason why you were pulled into this mess in the first place. Turn in the Goddess he wants to get the man you claim you need.”

“And Sébastian can stay with you guys and I can call upon him when needed,” you added as Dark stared at you. “Damon can even send word! They haven’t caught on that he’s with us yet.”

“Do you know how cliché this all sounds?” Isabelle questioned before a sigh left her lips. “We need reinforcements again.”

“We have three armies willing to back us up,” Trystan pointed out. “Four,” André corrected. “Lucifer’s, Hades’, ours, and Ivy’s.”

“Right, true Sins. You’re right,” Angel agreed.

“And Hellhounds,” you added. “So, it wouldn’t just be Lucifer but Michael and Cadel as well.”

“It’s suicide,” Hades spoke with a sigh.

“But it would be something I would come up with. On one condition. Dark holds onto the ring.”

“Why the hell do I need to hold onto a ring? I didn’t agree to the damn plan either,” Dark deadpanned and you looked at him, watching emotions flash through his eyes.

“William knows Sébastian resides in the ring. If you have it, then he’ll think nothing of it and you’ll go along with it.” Hades waved him off.

“Says who?”

“She does.”

“I do?”

“You really suck at being assertive,” Hades deadpanned as you looked at him and you shrugged in response, a grin playing on your lips for a moment before turning back towards Dark.

“You can leave as soon as you have your man. Sébastian will take you home and you’ll never have to deal with us again.”

“Y/N-” Juliette started and you held up a hand, glancing over your shoulder at her before returning your gaze to Dark.

You watched as emotions passed through his eyes once more before the annoyance set in and he clenched his teeth.

“Very well.” He held his hand out and you stared at it for a moment before removing your necklace, dropping it in his hand. “Have the fool send word in an hour.”

You watched as the entity closed his fist around your necklace before he turned, the sound of his footsteps echoed through the room as he left.

“Y/N-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” The room fell silent after that.

~

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Angel questioned softly as she tied rope around your wrist gently, her eyes glancing over your shoulder and you followed her gaze to the dark entity speaking to Anti. “You should tell him-”

“It doesn’t matter,” you cut her off, shaking your head as you returned your eyes to hers. “Worst comes to worst, I’ll choose Apollo. Apollo’s a better fit for the rest of us anyways.”

“Don’t do the better fit, Y/N,” she warned with a scowl on her lips. “We may not like him and he may be one of the biggest assholes-”

“Angel-”

“-we know but if he makes you happy, that’s what matters.”

Lifting your tied wrists, you placed your hands on your sister’s cheek to the best of your ability before placing your forehead against hers.

“Your kindness is showing, sissy,” you teased softly before you lifted your head to place a kiss against her forehead. “I want to make up for the years you didn’t have your older sister.”

“I always had her,” Angel grinned wickedly. “I mean, who else would I beat at sparring?”

You stuck your tongue out at her before dropping your hands, following her to the others as Damon returned beside Pierre.

“He sends a location,” Damon spoke, holding a piece of paper out to Dark who took it with a scowl. “He’s surprised but pleased. He said something about a lover betraying a Warrior.”

A snort left your lips as you shifted on your feet, your eyes glancing at those around you before landing on the entity beside you.

“Let’s just get this over with,” the entity muttered, showing you the writing on the paper before handing it off to Anti.

“As soon as his man is handed over and you have the chance, Y/N,” Hades warned as he plucked the paper from the glitchy entity. “I mean it.”

“I know.”

“Go.”

Feeling a hand placed on your shoulder, you glanced at Dark before looking away, scrunching your nose at the sight of William, Décembre, and Monique standing by an entity with a pink mustache – Wilford Warfstache.

“There’s not even a chain around her neck. And here I thought it was a ploy to attack,” Monique mused as she tilted her head to the side. “Hello, granddaughter.”

Your lips stay shut as your eyes dropped to the floor, forcing a deep breath out of you to attempt to look as though you’re about to panic. Maybe having Dark do this was a bad idea. You felt as calm as you did before when he stood beside you. You should be panicking. Your hands are bound and before you stood the whole reason for your mental issues, for your nightmares. They’re expecting panic.

“Like those fools would danger this idiotic Goddess,” Dark spoke, his eyes rolling. “Give me Warstache.”

“The Goddess first.”

“I’m no fool,” Dark deadpanned, crossing his arms. “There’s no doubt you’ve had the pink fool do your bidding and that you’d like to keep him. The same reason I want him back. The idiot first.”

Décembre’s eyes stayed on the two of you and you knew why. He was God of Knowledge and Learning. If anyone can figure out the plan, it was him but you were his student prior to his betrayal. You knew how to lead him on.

“Clever. No wonder you’re a possible lover,” William hummed before placing a hand on Wilford’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that, sir,” Décembre spoke quickly and you fought yourself from tensing.

“Is he blocked?”

“Is who blocked?” Dark gave a dull look to the God who glanced at you. “The annoying Monstre? Made sure of it. Isn’t that right, Goddess?”

A wince left your lips at the slight tug of your hair, lifting your head and your eyes met his. He hadn’t tugged hard, the wince more of one of surprise than anything.

“Yes.”

The word was quiet as it left your lips and you watched a quick emotion pass his eyes before he covered it up, dropping your head as he looked back at those before them.

“Give him here.”

You watched from behind your hair as Wilford stumbled forward, his comments confusing you as he spoke to Dark as he reached him.

“Now, the Goddess,” William demanded and Dark looked at him, tilting his head to the side. “We had a deal.”

“I would think someone like you would know better,” Dark spoke as you lifted your head, hearing the quiet clinking of your ring moving on a chain – did he just-

“You fool!” Monique hissed, her hand lifting and you found yourself breaking the rope to throw a shield up before them, blocking the attack.

Sébastian, now would be a good idea.

Coming, Y/N. 

[flightfoot]

A Convergence of Apollos Chapter 2

I studied Hoodie Apollo’s face as we all ran out of Central Park. He looked guilty and bitter, though I wasn’t sure why. Because he sent us on this quest alone last time? At least, assuming he was right about being a mortal Apollo sent back in time by some method (note to self: ask how that happened). I didn’t think he was lying. The emotions he showed were too raw and genuine for that, plus there was God Apollo’s reaction to consider. But I still had a hard time believing it. A lot of strange things had happened to me since I became a demigod, but this would DEFINITELY go in my top ten.

“So where’s the Celedon?” Meg asked as we exited. Apollo thought for a moment, slowing down as a look of embarrassment swept over his face.

“I... uh... I... don’t know,” he admitted sheepishly. “Percy and Grover found her last time, I didn’t care enough to ask about it.” A bitter tone tinged the last part of that sentence. I was beginning to worry about this guy, whoever he was. He really seemed to hate his past self, or at least who he believed was his past self.  “But they found, stopped her, and brought her back to Central Park by sundown, so it can’t have taken TOO long. So, uh...? Percy, Grover... where do you think we should look?”

I blinked, caught off-guard. I’d been looking forwards to not having to lead the quest. Oh well. At least I had more help than I originally thought I would.

A diva who wanted to make a name for herself singing to the largest crowd she could...

“Times Square,” I said after a minute. “It’s in the theater district and is full of tourists just walking around, able to hear her singing.”

Apollo smiled at me and nodded appreciatively. “That makes a lot of sense. It’s where I’d go, if I was a Celedon. To Times Square it is!” He walked authoritatively for a few yards in one direction, then stopped. “Er... how do we get there again? Normally I’d just fly over there in my Sun Chariot, but right now...”

Meg sniggered. “Come on, Oh Great God of Getting Lost. I’ll show you how to use the subway.”

Apollo shot Meg a slightly annoyed look, which she ignored. He huffed and started after her, Grover and myself close behind.

As we rode the subway, I glanced at the dead-turtle-lyre God Apollo had forced onto Grover. “Hey, Grover? Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Well, uh... kind of? I learned the basics, and us satyrs have a natural affinity for music, so hopefully that’ll be enough?”

“I can play it,” Apollo chimed in.

I nearly smacked myself. OF COURSE Apollo could play his own lyre, mortal or not. Though if he was mortal...

“Hey Apollo?” I asked. “Does the lyre have any powers of its own? Will it still work if the musician is mortal?”

“Oh yes,” he said, looking like Annabeth does when someone brings up architecture around her. “This is the lyre I used the first time I was turned mortal, in fact. I helped build the walls of Troy using this lyre.”

Huh?

Did he use the lyre as some sort of divine brick-laying tool?

I mean, I’d seen stranger improvisations (I will always savor Rachel hitting Kronos in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush), but it still seemed weird.

My confusion must have been evident on my face because Apollo continued explaining. “This lyre conjures up items based on the music you play. Back then, that meant bricks. Lots and lots of bricks. But it can summon other things too.”

“Like a cage for the Celedon?”

“Yes, like that,” he agreed.

Grover handed the lyre over to Apollo, but he hesitated a bit as he slowly held it out to Apollo, as if struck by a nervous thought.

“Er... Apollo?” he asked nervously, starting to chew his shirt in his anxiety. (He’s a satyr, he does things like that. One time he got so nervous and hungry he had eaten massive holes in his shirt before he’d realized it was even in his mouth. It couldn’t be salvaged, so he took it off and ate the rest of it.)

“Just... be careful not to scratch it, okay? Please? Apollo - er-  the OTHER Apollo said he’d incinerate me if I did, and he’s really freaked out right now so I don’t know WHAT he’d do if it was damaged.”

“Incinerate..?” he said disbelievingly, his voice squeaking at the end. “I... said that?”

“if you damage it, I’ll incinerate you,” I recalled. “That’s what he said.”

“I...” the guy looked close to tears. “I... I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have even considered it. Your lives are worth more than a musical instrument. Plus you were doing a favor for ME. It was WRONG.”

He took in a shaky breath. “Grover, I know you’re not friends with me now, in this timeline. And considering how I acted, I’m surprised your counterpart is friends with ME in my timeline,” he said with a wry smile. “But I still consider you to be one of my friends, and I wouldn’t hurt you no matter HOW annoyed I was at you, even if you DO like Walt Whitman.” (I was confused at this, but Grover seemed to recognize the name at least). “I won’t allow you to be hurt either, not while I have the power to stop it.” his eyes gleamed softly, and for a moment I thought they were glowing. It was gone so quickly, I wasn’t sure whether it was a trick of the light. “If my past self gives you trouble, I’ll handle him.”

“Thanks,” Grover replied. “I thought with this quest that this would be a pretty bad birthday, but meeting you had made it less-bad than I thought.”

“It’s your birthday?” Apollo asked, looking surprised.

“Really, Apollo? You did this on Grover’s birthday?” Meg chimed in, sounding annoyed.

“I didn’t...” he closed his eyes for his moments and furrowed his brow. “I... thought it was Percy’s birthday?” he muttered to himself, eyes still closed. “Wait, but Percy’s next birthday he was turning sixteen, the Great Prophecy hinged on that, I KNEW this wasn’t his birthday...” he trailed off and opened his eyes.

He took in a deep breath and left it out, then took turns looking Grover and I each in the eyes.

“I didn’t care,” he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness and self-hatred. “It didn’t matter to me whose birthday it was, or what you were already doing. Because I was a god, I was more important, my needs were more important than yours. So why should I bother remembering that it was Grover’s birthday? It had no effect on me, and I was the only one who mattered.”

“Then I was turned mortal again, and had to live with you, amongst you, as one of you, AS EQUALS. And I cared.”

“I don’t know what made the difference this time, exactly. I didn’t care the last two times I was turned mortal. But then again, those times, I stayed separate from most mortals and their struggles. I didn’t experience what they did. And I was still partially divine, I still looked like myself, I still had ichor in my veins. Or maybe because this time, I was with people who needed me. Not because I was a god, but for who I was.”

His eyes shimmered with unreleased tears. “My children...” he whispered. “I barely knew them, but they did everything they could to make me comfortable at Camp Half-Blood, even though I just wanted to sulk. They embraced me as family. I’d only appeared in their dreams every now-and-then. They acted more like family towards me in those few days I spent at Camp Half-Blood, than I had towards them in their entire lives. I couldn’t even REMEMBER the last time anyone had cared about me that much, AS A PERSON. I didn’t deserve them. I DON’T deserve them. I’m their father, and yet THEY took care of ME. I can’t... I can’t think of myself as their father. Not really. I haven’t earned the title. But they’re my family, and I will protect... them...”

His eyes grew wide. “MICHAEL!” he shouted, startling the other passengers.

“Huh?” I said, confused. A nauseous feeling broiled in my stomach. Why would Apollo look so frantic about his oldest son? At least the oldest one at Camp.

“He... he died. In the Battle of New York City. I... I don’t know how. I and the other gods were busy fighting Typhon at the time. I don’t know if you can change anything. I don’t know if anything that happens now can change fate. But... still, please. Look after him?”

I looked at his pleading face, remembering the last time someone had asked me to look after their family. She had died a few days later. But...

“I’ll try,” I promised. I hesitated. “You know that I don’t have a great track record with keeping people from dying though, right? I promised Nico that I’d try to keep Bianca safe. I failed.”

“I don’t have the best track record with keeping people safe either,” he admitted. “I promised Thalia I’d check in on Jason, on her little brother. He went on a quest with me to help defeat one of the emperors, Caligula. He’d gotten a prophecy a few months before that said that if he and Piper helped me, one of them would die. He could have refused to help. No one could have stopped him. I certainly couldn’t compel him too, the way I am now. But he helped anyway, because more people would die if we didn’t help take Caligula down.”

He took a shaky breath as the tears ran down his face, unable to hold them in anymore. “The... the prophecy said that it could’ve been either of them. He decided that he would be the one to die. He couldn’t bear the thought of Piper dying. I... I said that we’d succeed without either of them dying. He just smiled and made a joke. But he... he asked me to make a promise. To.. to take the designs for some shrines he’d been working on back to Camp after he died, and... and  to remember... to remember what it’s like to be human.” He let out a choking sob. 

“Even then, even as he was about to march to his death, he was worried about his fellow demigods, OUR FAMILY, who we’ve mistreated so, SO badly. Because they were more important to him than his own life. He was a hero.”

His puffy and bloodshot eyes took on a steely glint. “I’m keeping that promise. I WILL remember this if I survive, if I regain my godhood. And I WILL make things better. I promise.”

This guy... he’d been through so much. He had so much self-loathing and self-hatred for what he’d done, and for what he’d failed to do. He recognized his mistakes and was trying to fix them. Because he CARED. 

I pulled Apollo into another hug. He stopped holding back his tears, letting out huge sobs.

“He would be proud of you,” I told him. “You’re trying. That’s enough. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up endlessly.” I didn’t KNOW Jason, but based on what he’d told me, I was fairly confident I was right. “Just try. That’s the best any of us humans can do.”

Apollo smiled as he pulled away, breaking my hug. “Thanks.”

As we pulled into our stop, I took another look at Apollo. He looked nothing like the god I had seen earlier. He didn’t glow when upset. Yet right now, as he stared determinedly at the doors, ready to help capture the Celedon, to make sure she didn’t harm any innocent mortals, I thought that he’d never shone brighter.

[spacecoyote]

For the ace attorney asks, let's go with: 2, 9, 15, 21, 24, 37, 45, 48 and 50 :D

haha thanks!

2. Favourite case?

Uhhhh I like a lot (1-4, 1-5, 4-1) I think my favourite of all of them is 3-5, Bridge to the Turnabout - the third game is still my favourite and it has such a different feel from the other finale cases, plus Dahlia is an awesome villain

Also, you get to play as Edgeworth with Gumshoe assisting (psycholocks) and it ends with Godot getting sent to fucking jail on my 23rd birthday which is the best ending for all of us, fuck that guy

9. Favourite witness?

I really like it when one of the main cast gets called up as a witness, but especially Phoenix in 4-1/Turnabout Trump, that was great (poor Apollo)

(for actual witnesses uhhhh Adrian I guess she’s ace

OR POLLY)

15. Least favourite ship?

Edgeworth/Franziska kinda weirds me out, so does Athena/Simon, but I don’t really spend that much time thinking about this (the only pairing is Edgeworth/Wright sorry I don’t make the rules)

21. Phoenix Wright or Apollo Justice?

I like them both! Phoenix is more interesting at the moment, if they develop Apollo further it’ll be great (I replayed AJ last year and he had barely any backstory in HIS OWN GAME)

24. College Phoenix or Hobo Phoenix?

I’m always here for AJ Era Nick (nobody calls him Hobohodo anymore, sad face)

37. Capcom suddenly announces that Phoenix will no longer appear in the Ace Attorney franchise! Your reaction?

I can’t wait for Athena Cykes: Ace Attorney (jokes they would never do this Nick basically took over Apollo’s game singlehanded)

45. One thing you think the Ace Attorney games can improve on?

I’ve been asked this one three times, so - thing two!

I’d like to see some more variation of the court system beyond the one Weird New Feature they get in each new game - they touched on this a little with the Khurainese court and the divination seance (which I HATED, I hope it never comes back) but it would be nice if the actual mechanics of the cross examination changed or something, I love these games but it can feel a little stale (in that honest trailer they say it’s like a choose your own adventure novel with only one correct path)

48. If there could be an Ace Attorney crossover with whatever franchise you’d like, which one would you choose? (Does not need to be a video-game franchise)

I remember you sending me a prologue for a Cabin Pressure crossover a few years ago, so I want THAT

you write, I’ll illustrate

50. Do you think Dual Destinies deserved its M-rating?

Uhhhhh… No more than any of the other games do I guess? I’m replaying it now actually, it doesn’t seem too extreme at the moment

Thaaaaaaanks ilu

[downtowndaegu]

FIC REC

"You'll give me that much, won't you, fluffy flower?"there are some I’m going to exclude, simply bc I don’t feel comfortable sharing them bc of some themes  ★ - favourites

Threes. | Vhope | Angst, Smut★

When Jung Hoseok tells his boyfriend to stop flirting with other people, he thinks Taehyung will at least put in a little bit of effort to do so. Instead, Taehyung suggests they have a threesome with someone to prove that Hoseok's just being overly possessive. When Jungkook willingly agrees to participate, however, Taehyung quickly realizes he's made a mistake. aybe Taehyung's the overly possessive one after all.

Cruel Intentions | Yoonmin | Fluff, Angst

"Hey, Suga Hyung!" Hobi called with a persistent nudge.

"What, Hoseok?" Yoongi grunted in annoyance as he attempted to focus on his food.

"See that fresh piece of ass from class earlier?" 

Suga lifted his head, turning his gaze towards where his friend was pointing."Yeah, what about him?"

"Bet you can't fuck him before the end of the semester."

Break Me and Recreate Me | Part 2 of Cruel Intentions

He's back, Jae-Hwa has finally made his way back home to his twin Jimin. According to Jae-Hwa, he's only back to reunite with his brother and make up for lost time. But Yoongi thinks other wise. Slowly but surely, things begin to take an unusual turn for the group of friends. Lies are told, secrets remain hidden, and for one friend in particular, 'What he doesn't know won't hurt him' becomes the string that has him dangling between life and death. Sequel to 'Cruel Intentions'

Bangtan Unleashed | OT7 | Smut 

Nobody knows the real Bangtan. What happens when the stage personas drop and the filter comes down? Pure insanity that's what.

i know you wanna go to heaven (but you’re human tonight) | Taekook | AU - Werewolf | Angst?

Taehyung just thought it would be a one night stand, but he gets more than he bargained for.

wonder | Jikook | Angst★

"You see, one loves the sunset when one is so sad." -- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

Look Closely | Yoonmin | Angst, Fluff★

All Yoongi had to do, was look at the boy closely and give him a chance. All Jimin had to do, was exist. All the others did, was watch the drama unfold from the sidelines, popcorn in hand. __________ Yoongi was always against Jimin joining the band. Jimin was as hard working as Yoongi. Love found it's way.

tell me how to make this better | Vmin, OT7 | Angst★

“Do you remember when I asked you to be my boyfriend?” Jimin asks, a few tears slipping from his eyes at the memory, phone clutched so hard in his hand it's hurting his fingers. “An-and you said that you couldn't possibly do that? Because of the band?”

Taehyung makes a sort of wounded noise, beginning to talk over him. “Jiminie whatever you're thinking please-”

Jimin laughs, hysterical and high pitched as he turns himself over into the fetal position, hardly able to stop himself from vomitting. “It was because you didn't like me, wasn't it?”

Welcome Home | Namjin | Part of series, it’s so cute <3

Seokjin is used to getting calls from social workers at all hours of the day, but never this late at night.

(In which Hoseok loses a mom and gains two dads and four brothers.)

This Confession Note Wasn’t Meant For You | Vmin | Fluff, Slight Angst★

When Taehyung finally musters up the courage to slip a confession note into Jungkook's locker but fails miserably and ends up putting it in Jimin's locker instead.

Cinnamon Crisp | Taekook | Fluff | AU - Uni, A/B/O

Jungkook needs his daily dose of cuddles and Taehyung likes to wear Jungkook's clothes. They don't care that alphas and omegas aren't supposed to be best friends.

I’m Sorry I Forgot About You | Dad Yoongi, Son Hoseok | Fluff, Slight Angst★

Yoongi accidentally falls asleep during the day, leaving his 4 year old Hobi alone thinking his Appa doesn't love him anymore

My love is a Man with Many Faces | Mainly Yoonmin, elements of Yoongi x Everyone too | Angst with a happy ending

Out of all the people Yoongi befriended, Jimin was the only one who remained.

love triangles are out of fashion (three’s not really a crowd) | Polyamory, Maknae Line | Fluff, Slight Angst | AU - college/uni★

Jeongguk didn't think this dating thing would really work, but then again he also didn't think he'd end up casually seeing not one, but two hot guys

& making a bet to see who could get a boyfriend first was not Taehyung's finest idea, but Jimin thought they would at least have different tastes in men

you have 1 new message | Namjin | AU - Non Idol | Fluff★

r u n c h r a n d a. fuck this is going to sound like the weirdest shit okay look i used ur selcas to catfish and this older dude is gonna buy me stuff but i have to send him a selca with a peace sign

~ * ~ pingkeu jin ~ * ~ hahahahahahaha wtf

moonless marigold | YoonMinSeok | Fluff, Slight Angst | AU - college/uni & soulmates★

Part one of Jihope Bingo - Team Hoseok: Soulmates

"You see in black and white until you meet your soulmate."

"Why? That sounds horrible, Mom."

"Because nothing else should bring to you the beauty of a flurry of colors like your soulmate should, Hobi."

Will You Stop Time?  | YoonKook | Smut | ITS PURE FILTH GUYS

"Jungkook knew he shouldn't have done it. He really shouldn't have.

But when his mouse hovered over the 'Buy Now' button on Amazon, he thought about what could happen."

OR

Jungkook secretly loves to wear chokers around the dorm and one day decides to buy a new one, though someone catches him-

make a wish | Jimin x Everyone | Fluff | DogBoy?? idk what that means

it's jimin's birthday, and the puppy boy is going to get a day dedicated to himself that he will never want to forget.

flowers love the sun | Taekook | Fluff | AU - Greek Mythology★

Taehyung, a beautiful mortal, had caught the eye of the Jeongguk, a god.

Based on the Greek myth of Apollo and his mortal lover Hyacinthus.

Of One Sided Crushes | JinKook | Fluff | AU - College/uni

Jeon Jungkook has three questions for the Gods of crushes and one-sided love. One, what are you supposed to do when your crush sees you like their younger brother? Two, what are you supposed to do when your crush who sees you like their brother kisses you? Three, what are you supposed to do when your crush who sees you like their brother is drunk when they kiss you?

Why Min Yoongi No Longer Hesitates To Apologize First | YoonMin | Fluff, Angst | Fem - Yoongi at some point 

Min Yoongi has a problem. Whenever he fights with anyone, he never apologizes first. He and his beloved boyfriend Park Jimin fight all the time but breaking up, by rule, is something they never do... Until one fight of theirs takes a particularly ugly turn and Jimin breaks up with Yoongi. What happens when Namjoon and Hoseok decide to go for a 'beyond the mundane world', eccentric solution to help out their brokenhearted friend patch up his relationship? Answer? Something none of them could have ever expected! But ever since then, Yoongi has stopped hesitating before saying sorry :)

These Tides Fall Over (shades of blue and you) | Taekook | Fluff | AU - College/Uni★

"You can't expect me to let my royal savior die in the middle of the library."

In which Taehyung calls Jeongguk "Prince Eric" every chance he gets, and Jeongguk suffers.

Dandelions (Do) Not Grant Wishes  | Taekook | Angst | AU - Childhood friends & Ghosts★

"You'll give me that much, won't you, fluffy flower?"

here’s SOME of the fics in my notes, do reply below if you want me to post the rest of the 200+ fics I have saved - Admin Kay

[metamorpheus-blog1]

c h a r a c t e r + q u e s t i o n n a i r e

[ tw for: drug/alcohol use, death, mental illness ] 

Holy shit, why the fuck is this so long

BASICS

Full name: Marcus Christopher Russo

Any nicknames?: Morpheus, Mark, Marky, Russ, plus a slew of unflattering nicknames from old Army buddies that belong solely to that group of people. 

Age: 35 

Birthday/Zodiac sign: May 9th, 1982 // Taurus. Marcus has a majority of the typical Taurus traits: practical, dependable, down to earth. Regardless of his line of work, this isn’t a guy with a hair-trigger temper or the type to get his rocks off on on the violence in what he does, though he does have a very grim self awareness of just what kind of person he has to be to excel without apology at this job. That sense of strong commitment that keeps him nailed down to assignments with single-minded dedication tends to be a double-edged sword in the way it can overwhelm pretty much everything else and push it to the side in favor of finishing the task at hand. He’s the type that really needs and values internal stability in himself and others, which is BIG when it comes to why his lack of it is so self destructive. 

Height: 5′10. Taller guys, don’t talk shit.

Any tattoos, piercings?: 15 y/o Marcus had a bathroom + sewing needle variety of piercing in his left ear that has long since closed up and been forgotten. Cocky young recruit Marcus got the ‘onward to victory’ printed in neat stacked black script on his ribcage, right side, that he shares with three other recruits from his hometown (this phrase picked from several equally dramatic Big Damn Hero quotes they threw around, all freshly eighteen and very full of aspirations of being badasses), and under that, in ascending levels of freshness, are the month/year arrival and return dates for his three deployments. Deployment #1 has one small dot beside it, #3 has two, tallying those in his squadron ‘fallen in line of duty’, as much as he hates that term. There’s no ‘falling’ involved in an IED on the side of the road blasting you straight to hell but - ! Marcus’ bitterness internalized again, we move on to, of course, this classic number on his left forearm. 

FAVORITES

Sound: He likes NYC’s urban flavor of white noise. Anything repetitive without harshness to it: wind chimes, a clock ticking, steady rain. Back when he used to live on the coast in South Carolina, Marcus went in for all those soothing beach sounds, but the bustle on the city streets has its own charm against waves and seagulls. 

Color: Marcus lives in washed out colors, closer to neutrals, with a side of beige and olive green. Even his black is a little less harsh, like a t shirt that’s still being worn years after it’s faded and started collecting holes. His mind is all vibrant orange though, that Mad Max sandstorm orange, Norah’s orange when he thinks of her every time he peels a tangerine, that kind of desert orange that’s still stuck on him after all these years -- even if in the scope of his service, six years in the real world isn’t very long at all. 

Person: He won’t forgive himself if he says Artemis. That’s too much responsibility to put on her shoulders. So maybe not favorite, but most important? That’s pretty hefty too. Whatever it is, Sunny’s calming influence on this guy can’t be overstated. 

Memory: BCT, or basic training. Now listen, a lot of basic is really really shitty. Shitty food, shitty schedule, shitty exercise, the same shitty drills over and over and over every day. You get tear gassed in basic training. You sweat harder than you’ve ever sweat in your life and you go to bed at night absolutely exhausted. But BCT was the first time Marcus actually saw his future falling into place in a way he could be proud of, when he started to figure out his strengths and advance, and where he found people he could relate to and build friendships with. Really, with that in mind, he’d happily take the shitty food again. 

Place: Lmfao his apartment, messy as he and it are on the inside. Always good to have a good secure place to come back to. Weirdly enough though, he is also pretty comfortable with/fond of the Westside Dock, just because of the sheer amount of time he spends camped out there supervising deals from a distance just in case anything goes wrong. Zeus would’ve kept him parked plenty busy on his main trade, but Hades spreads Marcus over more varied tasks, which is what’s led to his familiarity with every boat, rooftop, and shipping container in that yard. He used to frequent the Warehouse with weekly regularity for the good live music, but understandably some work disagreements have rendered that a no-go zone.

Vice: He’s got the holy trio of Drugs, Booze, and Cigarettes going on, but in light of Madi’s favorite vice mini-meme I’m going to go with his complete lack of any sort of positive coping mechanisms or drive to start trying to develop them. Marcus’ constant self-reassurance is ‘it could be so much worse stop being a whiny bitch’, even the very middle of a panic attack, so shout out to that toxic suck-it-up type of masculinity the Army cultivates along with an unhealthy dose of ‘mental illness isn’t that extreme’ mentality. Keep tellin yourself that, bud.

HAVE THEY EVER…

Been in love?: Yes, in both the high school puppy variety and his one experience in slow-burning, real n’ deep adult love. 

Done drugs?: Oh yeah, and a pretty big variety. Marcus’ hard limit is anything requiring a needle, he knows just how easy it is to fall headlong into addiction with something that potent. Most of his heaviest various drug use was high school and right after his discharge, but he’s settled into a routine of pot whenever the opportunity shows itself and the rare bump of cocaine when he really really needs it. The latter tends to allow him to get what he needs done done, but it understandably sends his mental state straight to shit in the fallout, not to mention it’s an expensive for a picker-upper.  Cocaine is down as something that happens a handful of times a year, maybe. Doing a line is, in his mind, a lot less extreme than shooting something up straight to your veins. Marky’s pretty willfully blind to the fact that something you snort can be just as addictive as something you inject. 

Killed someone?: 

Marcus isn’t really keeping track of that number anymore. There’s a lot of the emotional part of his psyche that gets turned off for this process -- it’s not a person, it’s not murder, it’s a mission, you get it done clean and fast and you get out. Never think of a mark as an individual, complex human being. You’re screwed the second you do.

Betrayed someone’s trust?: Not on the scale of large deceptions. Eurydice might just count, positive and unsuspecting enough as their interactions were before Cronus’ order came down and Marcus had a hit to carry out. But, he reasons, it is the mob. Their definition of trust stands on shaky ground. And thinking that, it’s hard for him to resist the urge to just laugh at how malformed his morality has gotten these past few years.

Had their heart broken?: I mean, yeah, but he did it his damn self and he still thinks it was the right thing. Ending the engagement would never hurt as much as going through with it and waking up twenty years down the road, miserably unhappy. Norah is the closest he’s ever gotten to feeling truly understood but shackling her to his troubled ass would only bog her down and foster a resent towards him he could honestly never hypothetically blame her for feeling. We’ll call it heart break in the name of the greater good. 

Lost someone?: Everyone in the combat zone has a story about losing someone, but Marcus never felt his squad buddies were so close to him he had that kind of ownership over their lives to say they were someone he’d ‘lost’. No close family members dead either, Norah might be something closer to loss if their split hadn’t been his choice. So no, there’s no one he’s mourning, just some still strangely vacant spaces in his mental roster and more than enough persistent ghosts left in his memories.

DO THEY…

Have any pets?: Nope, though he is very firmly a dog person.

Have a family they still talk to?: Yes, but he’s not overly fond of doing it, #1 Son of the Year. Maria and Randy are still firmly parked in Newburgh and it’s honestly just depressing to him to call home and visualize them sitting in the same shitty house on the same shitty couch living the same aimless repetitive lives. 

Have a best friend?: It’s tempting to say Artemis again, real tempting in the kneejerk way, but he’s got way too much insecurity around their relationship and how much pressure his problems can put on a person once they’re close enough to know about them to weigh her down with best friend, if that’s even the phrase for what their relationship is. He’s not about to try and compete with the likes of Apollo and Dionysus either, not when he knows how much they both mean to her. 

Want to get married and/or have kids?: Oh boy. Well, there’s a difference between wanting it and actually pursuing it. Marcus is of the give-your-kids-a-better-life-than-you mentality and he doesn’t think he could do that now that he’s pretty deep in an illegal lifestyle. As for marriage, we all know about his track record with that. 

Want to leave?: He might, if he had any idea of where else he could go without immediately falling into the mental Pit of Despair. NYC has pretty much everything keeping him somewhat together. 

THIS OR THAT?

CALL OR TEXT; texting is convenient but there’s too much in tone and word choice left up for interpretation and it can turn into a liability when he’s got time-sensitive information he needs to know. Marcus almost always calls, especially if it’s about a job; texting is for sharing contact information or an address, or more casual ‘off-duty’ plans.

WEALTH OR LOYALTY; loyalty wins out, but just barely. Wealth is mighty tempting to someone who’s never had it, but at the same time, he’s never had it. When it comes down to choosing one or the other, wealth is the one he’s most capable of living without (no matter how sweet it would be to have). There’s the added fact that genuine excessive wealth makes him almost uncomfortable?? There’s the conspicuous feeling off a sign taped to his back that tells more bougie people ‘this man considers Kraft the superior kind of cheese’ and that’s not gonna change if he suddenly pulls the winning lotto ticket at the minimart below his apartment. 

LOVE OR LUST; not that Marcus is some heartbroken cynic cruising bars every night, but lust is easy and manageable and the occasional one night stand gets lost in the big city without any of those pesky loose ends; it’s been six years and the soreness of parting ways with Norah isn’t so fresh he feels her absence like he did first time he went home with a girl in NYC. He’s not about to entertain any fantasies of romance. The pool of people with shared life experience, or at least similar enough experiences to understand, is... small, to say the least. Why rope some poor unsuspecting soul into his personal whirlpool of bullshit? 

5 FRIENDS OR 100 ACQUAINTANCES; that’s a lot closer to his situation now, Marcus doesn’t tend to accumulate close friends, or at least semi-purposefully he doesn’t. He’s good at that kind of (surprisingly) pleasant, simple interaction that tends to fix a version of himself in people’s minds that doesn’t invite further speculation or questions (though if you ask, he’ll nine times out of ten be an open book). What you see with Mark is what you get, unless you stumble into or purposefully try for something deeper. 

SUMMER OR WINTER; you’d think summer, considering Marcus’ open air approach to his apartment (though that’s more of a claustrophobia thing than anything else), but he finds winter a lot more manageable and he’s had more than enough time in the Middle East to properly enjoy heat, even though going outside when it’s warm and he isn’t wearing 60 pounds of gear is a little treasure in itself. People are easier to track during winter too, their patterns are more predictable, there’s less roaming outside when it’s fuckin cold. 

OTHERS:

Wanted plots/connections: will be linked soon!

[bloodystrider]

;D all of them

(ง •̀_•́)ง

Under the cut for most of them

3 Fears

My brother, Cops for the most part, corn fields 

3 things I love

Apollo, my dogs, my son

2 turns on

Biting, hickies 

2 turns off

Screaming, cages

My best friend

@givethemthesucc​

Sexual orientation

Goddamn gay

How tall am I

5′6″

What do I miss right now

My family

Favourite color

Red, gold or orange

Do I have a crush

Does my boyfriend count as a crush?

Favourite place

Anyplace with my boyfriend

What am I listening to right now

“Small bump” Its a song

Shoe size

I have no idea

Eye color

Amberish orange

Hair color

Blonde

Meaning behind my URL

I’m a strider and im mostly always covered in blood

Favourite song

I dont have one

Favourite band

Who knows

How I feel right now

Happy

Someone I love

@sufferedoracle​

My current relationship status

Taken by the best guy ever

My relationship with my parents

Never had any, they died when i was little

Favourite season

Summer

Tattoos and piercing i have

Tongue, upper nose, belly buttonNo tattoos 

Tattoos and piercing i want

I want my sons name on my wrist

The reasons I joined Tumblr

Older brother was here

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

Mmhm

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

I have not nor will i ever kiss Cal

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

Twenty minuets if i dont have time for a shower or else its like an hour

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days?

Mmhm

Where am I right now?

At home with my boyfriend

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

Loud

Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

Never have

Am I excited for anything?

Not at the moment

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

Not anymore

How often do I wear a fake smile?

Only when im with my family

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

My parents 

What do I think about most?

Murder

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind it, i dont really like my picture being taken

What was the last lie I told?

“I didnt just eat a whole box of popsicles in three minuets on a dare”

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Video chatting

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Not really

Do I believe in magic?

kinda

Do I believe in luck?

yeah

What’s the weather like right now?

Its raining

What was the last book I’ve read?

The trials of Apollo

Do I have any nicknames?

DI

Do I spend money or save it?

Both

Can I touch my nose with a tounge?

Mmhm

Favourite animal?

Dogs

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

Sleeping

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Any song Apollo sings honestly

What is my favorite word?

Hippo

My top 5 blogs on tumblr

Not sure what you mean

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

Hi, bye

Do I have any relatives in jail?

No but only becuase Bro turns into a tree everytime he gets close to jail

What is my current desktop picture?

Sunset

Had sex?

Yeah

Bought condoms?

Mmhm

Gotten pregnant?

I cant?

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

Nope

Had job?

Yeah

Smoked weed?

It messes with my meds so i cant

Smoked cigarettes?

Yeah

Drank alcohol?

Used to but not anymore

Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

Only when i cant go out killing for food

Been overweight?

My metabolism is to high

Been underweight?

More than not

Gotten my heart broken?

....Yeah

Been to prom?

No

Been in airplane?

Yeah

Learned another language?

Working on learning greek

Wore make up?

Couple times

Dyed my hair?

Mmhm

Had a surgery?

Yeahhhh

Met someone famous?

My big brother?

Stalked someone on a social network?

(K yes

Been fishing?

Once

Been rejected by a crush?

Twice

What do I want for birthday?

A griffon!! 

Do I like my handwriting?

Yeah

Where do I want to live when older?

Anywhere but texas and LA

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Nope! Im the master of escape no one has caught me yet

What I’m really bad at

Art

What my greatest achievments are

Eh? Who knows

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

"Youre the weakest link in this family, no one actually loves you they just pity you”....

What I’d do if I won in a lottery

I have no idea

What do I like about myself

My eyes

My closest Tumblr friend

Dirk

Are you outgoing or shy?

Mix

What kind of people are you attracted to?

points at my boyfriend

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Yes

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Nope

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Dirk

What does the most recent text that you sent say?

Stop stealing my goddamn jellybeans Cal

What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

I dont know

Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yes, just yes

Do you think there is life on other planets?

Eh, unlikely 

Do you like bubble baths?

Only if its with someone

Do you like your neighbors?

Yeah

Where would you like to travel?

Anywhere

Favorite part of your daily routine?

Nap

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

Stomach, just becuase of my scare there

What do you do when you wake up?

Go back to sleep

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

Naw

Do you ever want to get married?

Yeah

If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Mmhm

Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV

Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Naw

What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Book store

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Depends

Do you smile at strangers?

Yes

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Not that i know of?

Ever wished you were someone else?

Kinda? I mostly just wish i grew up normal

Favourite makeup brand?

None

Last thing you ate?

Fries

Ever won a competition? For what?

Best runner of my brothers

Ever been in love?

Mmhm

Facebook or Twitter?

Neither

Twitter or Tumblr?

Neither

Are you watching tv right now?

No

What colour are your towels?

Black

Favourite ice cream flavour?

Cookie dough 

First person you talked to today?

Apollo

Last person you talked to today?

Dirk

Name a person you hate?

Prince

Name a person you love?

Apollo!

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Prince

Do you tan a lot?

Not on purpose 

Have any pets?

Dogs and pokemon

Do you type fast?

When i want

Do you regret anything from your past?

Yeah

Ever broken someone’s heart?

Yes

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Mmhm

Is cheating ever okay?

No

Do you believe in true love?

Sometimes

What your zodiac sign?

Not sure

Do you believe in ghosts?

Eh 

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? (via catscuddlingandyou)

“Know?” she jabbed a finger over her shoulder. 

[georgescatcafe]

teaser for upcoming fic

the rising chariot

intended publish date: friday, april 2, 2021 rating: t warning/s: none (subject to change) pairing/s: platonic dream team, karlnap genres/tags: percy jackson and the olympians au, friendship, angst status: wip, chapters 1-5 complete summary: Nick Pappas isn’t sure it’s normal for teenagers to be sent across the United States on a quest that could potentially kill them, but Nick has started to realize that everything he thought was normal is entirely false. George Davies doesn’t particularly want to spend three consecutive days with this new camper and that son of Hermes who snagged his win in Capture the Flag two weeks ago, but he knows he has to suck it up and go with them, no matter how irritating they may be. Clay Bryce just wants to prove himself and show that he’s more than that troublesome kid from Cabin Eleven, but even as the leader of this quest, he’s not sure how to when Nick has fire powers and George is practically capable of mind-control.

Yet what they feel and want will mean nothing if they don’t complete their quest. When a petty feud between gods has Apollo threatening to take the Sun from the sky, the three must head out to stop him, but not just that—they’re in a race against an ancient enemy of the god, one who definitely will try and kill him if it gets to Apollo first.�� notes: feel free to put your feelings about this in the replies or tags (if you reblog it)!! i’ve worked really hard on this and i want people to like it so tell me if there’s anything you don’t like or really like!! :] ok to rb? sure! free advertisement babey

Despite what the papers said, Nick didn’t mean to burn down his school. The only reason he wasn’t going to prison was because no one died and the police couldn’t find any solid evidence that it was his fault. That is, other than the fact that when the building stopped burning, there was just him standing in its charred remains, not a single hair on his head harmed. But seriously, he didn’t mean to burn down his school. Yeah, he hated sitting through English as much as the next kid, but he didn’t hate it enough to commit arson.

Not to mention he was turning sixteen in three days. Why would he actively try and get into trouble three days before his birthday?

But that wasn’t really a new problem. The burning, that is. Maybe on a grander scale this time—he’d never burnt down a whole building before—but he’d always had an unlucky relationship with fire. Or, his mom would call it lucky, if you overlooked the whole I burn everything I touch thing. She used to just laugh at the soot sprinkled across the living room carpet and run her fingers through his hair, telling him to only play with fire if he knows he won’t get burned. (And he’s never gotten burned.)

The last time he saw her, she was staring at him through the back window of a police car.

After that, it was like she was never there. Nick still thought about her, though, when his stepdad, a rigid, heavyset man, kissed his new wife on the cheek and patted Nick on the head like he’s still five and not fifteen-and-eleven-months, and he thought about her when it was his turn to stare at his family through the back window of a police car.

It was just a single policeman, polite and unassuming as he explained the full situation to Nick’s parents, and his parents just wanted to get this out of the way, so when the cop told Nick to get in the car, they didn’t protest, and Nick took his seat, the window cool under his palms as he watched his stepdad and stepmom get smaller and smaller.

“I really didn’t mean to do it,” Nick finally said, turning back to the officer.

“I know, son,” the cop in the front seat replied.

“Then why are you taking me?” he asked.

The cop didn’t reply.

Nick turned back to the window, watching building after building pass by. He tried to read some of the signs, but the letters got all jumbled up, and eventually, he just sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on the window, pretending that the vibrations of it didn’t bother him. By the time he bothered sitting up again, the bustling city had disappeared and field after field stretched endlessly around them. Nick curled a hand around the seatbelt pressing into his chest.

“Where are we going?”

Again, the cop didn’t reply.

Nick tugged at the seatbelt. “Can I not ask questions anymore?” He tried to open the door, but it was pointless. The thing was locked, and every time he tried to undo the lock, it would pop right back into place. NIck turned back to the cop. “Look, man, I really didn’t mean to do it, and if you believe me, that’s great, so I don’t know why you still want me here. If you just let me go home—”

“That’s enough, Nick Pappas,” the cop finally snapped, and Nick’s eyes widened at the sound. His voice was raspy, and he pronounced his ‘s’s weird. “Be a good kid and sit quietly.”

“I just want to know where you’re taking me!” Nick banged his fist on the window, only wincing for the shortest second when it sent a tingle back up his arm.

“I said enough!” And then the car was veering off the road, Nick was flung into the window, seatbelt digging painfully into his chest and waist, ears ringing from hitting his head on the glass, and the cop was twisting out of his seat, stretching out over him, hat falling aside to reveal long hair, lips parting to reveal sharp, glistening fangs.

Nick scrambled back as far as he could, seatbelt constricting his movements. “I don’t want trouble! What is wrong with you?” He kicked at the cop, letting out a strangled gasp when his foot met soft flesh and not hard muscle. “You’re not even a guy!”

“And you are no uselesssss mortal either!” the cop hissed, grinning even as its fangs pop, terrifying and fascinating all at—the cop sprung forward, and nope, just terrifying, not even close to fascinating.

Nick was never particularly flexible, but one time he heard about a bus flipping over with a kid inside it and the kid’s mom pushed the bus back over all on her own in some crazy fit of adrenaline. He had the hazy thought that something similar might be happening then as his foot makes contact with the cop’s face and the fangs dig into the sole of his shoe instead of his face. In the seconds he had to spare, Nick quickly undid his seatbelt, flailing as the cop grabbed at his shoe and pulled, throwing off his balance. The satisfaction of smacking it in the head was small in comparison to the fear that welled when he saw rage flicker in its eyes.

“I don’t even know what you are!” he choked out when the cop-not-cop made another pass at him. “Let me go!” With each word he aimed another kick at its head, but most of his kicks missed, and dread continued to fill him up as all his pathetic fighting did was enrage the thing.

“You ssssstupid boy!” the maybe-cop-probably-not seethed. “I am Sssssandra the Sssssupreme! One of the mossst powerful dracaena in the mortal world right now!”

The information meant nothing to Nick. He finally landed a kick on the center of her chest, sending her back into the front seat as he worked furiously at getting the door open. “Okay! And I’m Nick Pappas and you really don’t want to hurt me!”

“Oh, but I do!” Sandra hissed because that’s what she was doing, no way else to describe it. “Your death would be sssssplendid for me!”

“Not for me, though!” Nick argued, screeching when rough hands grabbed at his waist and fangs were once again in his line of sight. “Let me out!”

He banged against the door some more before turning back to the—what’d she say?— dracaena, heart pounding as nails dug into his waist and fangs filled his vision. He swallowed, wondering if it would be better or not to look death in the face before deciding it’d be worse, a lot worse, and squeezed his eyes shut.

Nick was mentally preparing himself for the end, when there was a muffled noise from outside the car, and then the shattering of glass. His eyes flew open even as shards of glass continued to rain down onto him and the snake lady from the window opposite them. And there, between all those sharp edges, stood a short ginger kid that, had Nick been in a better state of mind, he would remember from his classes. As it was, however, all he saw was his savior, holding a hammer tightly in his hands, cinnamon hair glowing in the fading sunlight, and eyes absolutely filled with terror.