#my muses call the shots

[perseabeth]

The Promise of the Wild Sea

< this is not an official fic yet, i had this AU in my mind for a while, and now i got the time to write few parts of it. if the story was to your liking, i might get encouraged to make it an official fic. i’d like to remind you that i do not own any of the characters, as they all belong to the original myths and Rick Riordan. except for the oc Callista. however, i made some alternation in the myths that could benefit my story. i hope you like these changes. also this is a fem!percy version. enjoy reading >

- 1184 BCE, The fallen city of Troy -

Apollo stood in front of Callista’s pyre, the flames not yet lit, his gaze fixed on her lifeless face. Her once radiant beauty now drained, her cheeks no longer flushed with the color of life. Her hair, dark as the starless night, framed a visage that seemed at peace, a peace she had found only in death. Yet, she had stolen his peace with her departure, leaving him hollow and bereft.

With painstaking care, he had smoothed away every bruise, every mark of the cruelty she had endured, wishing to present her to the underworld in the full splendor of her glory. His Callista, his heart. He clutched the two drachmas in his hand, the coins a symbol of her final journey, but to him, they were a cruel reminder of his eternal separation from her. How could he consign her to the underworld, knowing he would be condemned to an eternity without her by his side?

His soul ached with a grief that seemed too vast to contain. With a trembling breath, he placed the drachmas on her closed eyes, sealing her fate, preparing her for her voyage to the underworld. She deserved a realm free from the sorrows of war and the sting of death, a place of peace and light. He swore on his immortal soul that she would find solace in Elysium.

Apollo leaned down, his tears falling like rain upon her serene face, pressing a final kiss to her cold, unresponsive forehead.

“Farewell, my Callista... until we meet again, my angel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun god cradled her cheeks in his trembling hands, his soy blue eyes filled with the agony of days spent pleading with his uncle, the merciless lord of death, for this moment. She was there in his embrace, radiant as the true princess she was, her beauty untouched by the shadows of the underworld. Her black hair cascaded down her back like the soft night sky, a dark tapestry embroidered with stars in silken threads. Her eyes, those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, gazed up at him—the very eyes he had yearned to kiss open one last time before cruel fate tore her away.

But nothing unfolded as he had hoped.

"My lord," Callista whispered, her eyes shining with boundless love for the man before her. She wore a white, elegant chiton that clung to her form with an ethereal grace, adorned with a delicate laurel crown—a vision of Trojan royalty. Apollo shook his head, refusing to accept the words forming on her lips. "No, you are coming with me," he implored, tears welling up in his sky-blue eyes, each drop a testament to his anguish. He was begging, pleading for her to return with him to the world of the living.

The princess before him shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "No, my lord, I am dead. I am happy here," she said softly. She took his palm, still cradling her cheek, and pressed a tender kiss upon it, as if sealing their fates with that simple, heartbreaking act. "You must respect the rules of death, my love. You must go on and find happiness in the lands of the living."

Her words stabbed his heart, despite the delicateness of her voice, despite the sweetness of her words, and despite the loveliness of her eyes. She was pushing him away, each word like a dagger twisting deeper.

Callista looked at him again, her gaze filled with a sorrowful resolve. "I'm with my family, and you should be with yours. Lord Zeus will not be tolerable when he hears that you brought me back from death."

Apollo tried to reason with her, desperation lacing his voice. "But Uncle Hades has already accepted," he argued, only to be met with another tender kiss on his palm from Callista.

"I'm not letting you get into an argument with your father," she replied softly. She lifted her hand and gently caressed the strand of his hair falling on his forehead. Her melodic voice continued, soothing yet heartbreaking. "You will live on. You will find happiness again, I'm sure."

"My happiness is with you only," he insisted, his voice breaking.

But Callista only shook her head with a sad smile. "That's what you're saying now, because the pain is so new. But trust me, my love... time will go on, life will go on." She looked into his eyes, her determination unyielding. He knew there was no way to change her heart. She gave him a beautiful smile that could have brightened his days if not for their situation. "You did all you could. You made sure I found my final rest in a beautiful place. Now it's your turn to let go... to move on."

Apollo's tears threatened to fall, threatening to drown his eyes. He did the only thing he could do in that moment; he planted a soft, small kiss on her lips, a goodbye kiss filled with all the sorrow of a love that could never be. It was a kiss that spoke of unending longing and the crushing weight of farewell.

He would never force her to do anything. If she was happy, he would be happy, even if it meant an immortal lifetime of his heart shattering every day he remembered that she wasn't waking up next to him.

His time in the underworld was ticking away, leaving him with precious few moments to spare in the arms of his beloved. How cruel fate is, he thought, that even time refuses to grant him a longer respite to find peace in her embrace one last time.

He kissed her forehead once more, a goodbye kiss—the same kiss he had planted on her brow the day of her pyre, the day they consigned her body to the flames in a solemn ritual of farewell. He looked into those beautiful eyes one last time. "I swear to you, I’ll always find you in the stars, in the calm oceans, in the beautiful sunlight, in the warm flames, and in the serene mountains. You will always haunt me, forever haunt my life, Callista."

This earned him a sad smile from her beloved face, and he realized he loved all her smiles except this one. "Who knows, maybe someday you will find me again, amidst the moors or maybe in the wild sea."

He nodded, a silent nod, as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. He kissed her hands one last time and turned his back, leaving his beloved, leaving his heart, leaving the bane of his soul in Elysium, where she belonged. Before he stepped away, he turned to her one last time. "Someday, I’ll find you in the wild sea."

With that, Apollo left the underworld, each step a testament to the immortal lifetime of sorrow that awaited him, a sorrow he would bear for the love he could never truly hold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- December, 2007. New York City-

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll.

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Oh, right." Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and recognition, as if he had glimpsed a long-lost memory. The once vibrant blue of his eyes now bore golden freckles, a haunting reminder of his divine nature. "Callista?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding with confusion and uncertainty. Was he mistaking me for someone else, someone from his past? “No. I mean... no, sir."

Calling a teenager "sir" felt awkward, but I knew better than to offend an immortal. They were known to have volatile tempers, and tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up. and now Apollo seems to be on verge of blowing things up, or me perhaps.

His silence stretched on, his eyes still fixed on me, probing and searching. It was as if he was peering into my soul, unraveling the layers of my being with each passing moment.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to his sister, Artemis, who offered him a subtle shake of her head. Their silent exchange felt like a wordless, deep conversation, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words. Apollo cleared his throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air, before turning his attention back to me.

His gaze shifted abruptly from sheer confusion to a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite pinpoint. It reminded me of the way my mom once described my reaction to blue cookies or a serene beach—a mix of wonder and longing. Yet, as he looked at me, I saw something more. His eyes, now a crystal-clear sky blue, brimmed with an affection that seemed to encompass the entire world. It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling oddly nervous, knowing that he was a god who could unleash his power at any moment. If it were anyone else, I might have blushed under their gaze. But facing a god for the first time, unsure if he was friend or foe, left me feeling unsettled rather than flustered.

"Percy Jackson," Apollo's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, as if I were caught in a web of his penetrating gaze. I nodded silently. Then, without a word, he turned away, his attention shifting back to the group. The weight of his gaze that seemed to convey the burden of centuries, left me unsettled.

"Well!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice again, as if the past few moments were nothing, breaking the silence. "We'd better load up, huh? The ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

—

i’d love to hear your opinion about this.

[marathedemonoverlord]

Diavolo: You're my favorite human! :D

Mara: Everyday of my life I wake up with a brief moment of happiness because I believe I never met you and I feel at peace. Then you text and the illusion is shattered.

Diavolo: ... You're such a fun human! :D

[lunaetis]

one-liner call for yínyuè / rover ! give this post a like and i shall send the rover your way ! you're more than welcomed ( and encouraged ) to go wild with your response / lengthen it to your heart's content ! multi pls let me know who it's for !

[safyresky]

Warm Milk

(remember this poll? I sure did! This is the original shit I was talking about! Takes place a couple of hundreds of years after the events of Crystal Springs, Into the Shadows, etc. Some context: The dimensions between planes are thinning. Rosehaven is seeping into the living world, magibeans long dead returning to the world of the living—but for what purpose? Not even they know...)

(enjoy!)

___

Bianca padded down the stairs quietly. Eyes attuned to the dark, she trailed her fingers along the side table in the hall, gazing at the photos dotted about. Even in the lowlight, she could see how happy her daughter was in the photos she was in (laughing with Blaise, a little Jacqueline grinning in the bottom right, pointing; face pressed against those of the twins, the three of them grinning). And the ones she wasn't in (one of the twins stacked on one another, running down a beach; a candid shot of father and son caught up in a moment of laughter), Bianca could feel the love radiating from the photos.

She smiled to herself, continuing quietly down the hall. Every single bone and muscle creaked as she walked.

Bianca sighed, rubbing her lower back. I never thought I'd say this, but I do miss being dead, she thought to herself.

In Rosehaven, you didn't feel all the creaks of your bones and muscle pains and such. You felt fine. Safe. Okay. As young as you ever felt. As spry as Winter (senior) had been, despite looking as old as Bianca felt. Your body is there with you but it doesn’t age or degrade. You’re right as a flurry.

But back on this plane of existence…you felt it all and then some.

She sighed, turning into the kitchen. A light glowed above the sink. The dishes sat drying in the rack. A window was open, the sound of the wind rushing through the evergreen boroughs comforting. It was no mountain, but it was lovely regardless. It would do.

Quietly, she slid across the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk and staring at the contraption that supposedly warmed things with the click of a button. She squinted at it, rubbing her chin.

Perhaps she should wake her son-in-law? Or the grandkids? That is, the fiery ones, of course. It would be far easier for her to have them hold it for a moment rather than make the ruckus the. Contraption. Was sure to make.

She found the button to open the door. It went in with a deep crunch, the door swinging open with a loud bang that reverberated through the thing.

"Oh dear."

Straining her ears, she listened closely, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone.

Snores from upstairs. The wind. A soft voice? Murmuring?

Her ear twitched. She turned slightly, towards the right.

Her eyes readjusted. The table was empty; backyard door locked. The screen door, that is. The heavy door had been pulled all the way back, letting in the cold winter air. It smelt like the mountains.

Bianca made her way over, relishing in the breeze for a moment.

The voice was clearer now. She peeked outside; nothing and no one. Eyes travelling across the table, she peered into the cozy den.

A light was on.

Her ear twitched.

"AND he let me use his HAMMER MOMMA! The HAMMER!" said a delightful voice. Just hearing it made Bianca feel such joy. She crept closer to the den, head tilted towards the sounds.

"The HAMMER?!"

It was Jacqueline who was speaking now. Excited with a hint of panic. A tone Bianca found herself recognizing easily enough.

"YEAH! Hephaestus says I'm gonna make my own bow in NO TIME!"

"That's wonderful, sweetie!" Jacqueline replied, the smile in her voice loud.

"She's been taking to the change very well," a third voice said. Smooth and chipper, a hint of tired—but not quite. Hearing this voice made Bianca think of her Winter, wherever he may be.

Her heart panged.

"That's good! I'm glad," Jacqueline sounded relieved. "I'm really sorry about all this, love."

"It's okay! I'm just glad you're safe! We understand, don’t we, Joy?"

"Yeah! Safety is important! I learnt that today too," the child’s voice grew quiet, sounding proper chided.

"Did you now?"

"…yeah. I accidentally hit Hermes with a few arrows. He was a real good sport about it but I felt very bad and then Mater gave me the safety talk."

"We really should have done it sooner," the third voice spoke again.

"But! Better now than later, after she finds the lightning bolts! She was giving them the eyes earlier today."

Mater. Bianca ran the word through her mind. Greek, if she wasn't mistaken. For mother.

Jacqueline threw a hand up to her mouth, trying to mask her laughter. “Oh dear.”

This is wrong, Bianca, she thought to herself. Stepping back (having made her way to the arched entrance, lurking in the shadows), she walked towards the kitchen entrance, clearing her throat before reaching the den entrance again and knocking on the sideboard.

"Jacqueline?" she asked, peeking into the room.

He granddaughter shot up, pillows flying. "Oh! Hi Bianca. Everything okay?"

"I fear I've run into a problem. The contraption that heats things up? The little one."

"The microwave?"

She nodded. "How do you use it?"

"I'll be right with you. Just give me one sec!"

"Certainly. I'll wait in the kitchen." Bowing her head, Bianca backed up, keeping to the shadows between the two entrances.

The sprite curled back up, bringing the phone right up to her nose. The little display glowed, casting a dim light onto her face. The snow was gone from her hair, Bianca noted.

"Is that her?"

"Yeah. Technology problem."

There was a delightful giggle. "Off you go to save the day! My hero. I miss you.”

"We both do, Momma!”

Jacqueline smiled. “Awh. I miss you guys too.”

“I knew it!”

The loving voice laughed. “Alrighty, Joy. Say bye to Momma. She’s got a something cold to save.”

Jacqueline laughed. “It looked like it was a glass of milk.”

“She’s got a glass of cold milk to save!”

"Okay! I love you Momma!" the child's voice was filled with so much joy, Bianca could not keep back the smile that had snuck onto her face. It was hurting her cheeks. "I miss you! I hope I get to see you soon. I got a sword lesson and I wanna make one with you."

"Awwh, Joy! That's so sweet! I'll brush up on the blacksmithing just for you, okay?"

"Okay! I love you! KISSES! MWAH!"

"KISSES! MWAH! I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay! Bye Momma."

“Right, off you go! Go bug your grandad for a bit.”

“O-kay! Wee!”

Jacqueline laughed, watching the child run off, Bianca presumed. She pushed her hair off her brow, snuggling into the couch cushion. "She's doing okay?"

"She’s thriving! And wreaking so much havoc. That’s why we’re on Olympus now. Jupiter had enough so we’re hanging out with my mater’s side. Oh, Jacqueline, you’d be so proud! I know I am. She’s a hit over here!”

“Good! Good. I’m...glad.” Jacqueline’s smile dropped. She sighed, mussing her hair once more. “I’m so sorry about all this, Donnie.”

"Awh, babe, it's okay! You’re trying to keep us safe. We understand."

"I'll try to swing by tomorrow? If that's okay."

"Uh, duh! You're my WIFE! Why wouldn’t that be okay? I love you. I always want to see you.”

"And I you," Jacqueline smiled. "I'll see you soon, brown eyes."

"Not if I see you first, blue eyes."

Bianca tuned out, giving them space. Moments later, the blankets rustled.

"I know you’re still there, Bianca.”

Bianca felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She turned the corner sheepishly. “Sorry dear.”

Jacqueline smiled, leaning her head on the couch. "S’okay.” She pat the spot beside her with a slippered foot. “Come sit!"

Bianca obliged, sinking onto the couch. Her muscles thanked her. She sighed, falling back into the cushions.

"I miss being dead.”

"You WHAT?"

"Oh, sorry, Jacqueline. Sit back! I don’t mean it in a way that's concerning. I just…forgot how old and stiff my body was. I miss not feeling every single muscle every time I move."

"And warm milk helps with that?"

"Hmm? Oh!" she looked down at her glass of not warm milk. "Yes and no. It doesn't help my muscles. It helps my heart, though. Your grandfather said it was the cure for any ailment," she smiled fondly. "Lately I've been finding comfort in a warm glass of milk. It makes me think of him. But alas, your father went to bed before I could catch him and Lady only knows what would happen were I to wake your siblings."

"When they were younger, disasters! But now that they're older, they sleep like logs, for the most part. Just waking them up would be an impressive feat on its own!”

Bianca chuckled.

"You miss him, huh?"

"I do. And I worry for him," she admitted, bringing a fist up to her heart. "I don’t know where he is, or what he's doing. I know he's on this plane. But I can't…find him. And it hurts. Everything hurts. He'd love to see this. Knowing that your mother made a lovely life for herself? He'd be delighted! She found a love as true as ours," Bianca smiled down at her hands. "That's all we ever wanted for her. And I was so terrible! Afflicting you with the shard and sending you halfway across the world. Stealing her away from her family to try and bring back mine…and even after everything, you've all welcomed me here."

"Bianca. I gotta be real with you. In terms of blood relatives coming back from the far past? You're not the craziest we've seen."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Uncle Pyros is like, fifty shades of messed up. That guy is WHACK. But don’t tell dad I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me." Bianca sighed. "Those poor boys. I always hated being called to court. They never looked happy. Serafina was so strict; and Canicus was just as bad in other ways. I kept telling your grandfather, I said, you know, Winter, we could just snatch them up and take them home! And he'd say, he'd say, Bianca, we have our hands full with one, don't you think? Best not bring back old habits." she laughed. "We didn't, really. Your mother was a very calm child. Well. She was a child when we left; I've no idea how she was in later years, or for the rest of childhood."

Looking off into the distance, Bianca sighed.

"Well…from what I've heard, she's where we get most of our unhinged ideas from. The most chaotic of all the seasons as a kid. Still is to this day, if you ask my aunts."

"Oh, how delightful!" Bianca leaned back into the cushions, a soft smile on her face. "It's nice to see them both happy together. Your parents, that is."

"Makes you miss your hubby, huh?"

"We never did tie the knot, but yes! It does. Deeply. Achingly so, even.”

"I get it," Jacqueline wiggled against the couch, getting cozier. "I miss my wife."

That fond, loving smile was back on her face; so small and yet, filled with so much emotion.

"We did actually tie the knot. I mean, we were already referring to one another like that so we went, you know what? Frost it! May as well make it official! And then we did!" She shrugged. "The proposal went a little awry, but the wedding was nice! Especially since we found out we had a KID beforehand! Can you believe that? A whole entire KID. She was totally unplanned and I love her so much.”

“Oh, and I took you away from them, didn't I?"

Jacqueline nodded. "And I couldn't even remember them, because, you know, your mirror does that fun thing where it only makes you think of bad and sad thoughts? They were so fuzzy.”

Jacqueline smiled. "Magical objects just bring out the worst in people."

"I'm so sorry, Jacqueline. Really. I would never want to take anyone away from their families. That was a pain I'll never forget. Pain enough that it drove me to do that to you and your mother when I was shard-ed, just to try and restore my own."

"Indeed."

"Why do you even HAVE that mirror?"

"Cursed artifact that came into my possession when I was young. It splinters often, and the splinters get caught up all over the place, making people see only terrible, awful things. I used it in my younger years to do some truly bad things. Much younger, of course; I haven't been that bad since meeting your grandfather. I was glad it had come with me to Rosehaven. It wouldn't cause trouble ever again, I thought.” She chuckled coldly. “I thought wrong. Seems that was the worst place for it."

She opened her hands. The mirror appeared in them, empty but for two shards.

She sighed.

A warm hand landed on her knee. Bianca looked up.

Jacqueline was smiling at her, softly. Reassuringly. "We'll find him, and we'll find the shards.” She gave her knee a little squeeze. “I know you miss him. I miss my partner in crime, too! And I know you missed mom.”

"I'm glad to get to know her again. Odd to say but. Well."

"I kinda get it." Jacqueline pulled herself up a smidgen, phone clutched close to her chest. "Donnie and I had no idea Joy existed for about three years. She was born from the joy we both felt being reunited again after the proposal. I missed her baby years! Had no idea what she was like until recently."

"Hmm. I feel we have a lot more in common than just looks," Bianca mused.

"Indeed," Jacqueline replied, in an almost dead-on impersonation of Bianca's own accent.

She laughed. "I'm sorry I took you away from your wife and child. And still am, evidently."

Jacqueline shrugged. "This whole Rosehaven thing is weird. Scary, too. And after everything that happened to me? I don’t want to risk Joy. Or Donnie. She can handle herself of course, but I love her! I don’t want to see her get hurt. That's why I didn't mention them. I wasn't sure if you were…"

"Safe."

"Yeah.

"Wise. My reputation is. Quite terrible, really. Especially with children."

"Yeah, maybe gramps was onto something when he said not to bring back old habits."

Bianca laughed, looking at her granddaughter with a fond smile. "I'm glad you've found love, too."

Jacqueline scooched over the pillows, leaning up against Bianca. She put her phone in front of them, the screen blinking to life to reveal a photo.

There was a very tall, very strong woman. She was blonde, her hair tied up, laurels wrapped in the strands. She was beautiful. Jacqueline stood beside her. And between them, a small child, a tad darker than Jacqueline and a tad lighter than the woman. She grinned, a tooth missing, her strawberry blonde (emphasis on the strawberry) hair pulled up as well, falling right out of the scrunchie. Behind them was a big, feathery wing; and behind the girl was a smaller set of wings, looking more like butterflies than birds.

"That's the love of my life, Donnie. It’s short for Hedone."

"Hedone. That’s the Greek Pantheon…Goddess of…pleasure?"

Jacqueline flushed, nodding.

Bianca smiled. "And that's your little girl?"

"Joy. Embodiment of Joy. She's everything to me, goddess of the springs. The moment I met her, I was like, damn. I'd do ANYTHING for this kid. ANYTHING."

"I felt the same when your mother was born."

"Was she like, sick, or something?"

"Sick?"

"It's just," Jacqueline shifted, facing her grandmother with a look of placid curiosity. "I've heard that when she was born, there was something wrong? Or off, or something. I’ve only heard it offhand oh, once or twice. Nobody's ever explained it to me, and Mom doesn't even remember. So. I figured, you know, who better to ask than the person who birthed her, right?"

"Ah. Well, she wasn't sick. She was a miracle baby, though. See, I'd always wanted kids of my own. But I'd never managed to settle down with someone and have them."

"So you stole them instead?"

"Yes. And I used the mirror to do so. It's an ugly thing; it fell into my possession when I was quite young. It takes the beauty and love out of everything and makes you see only the bad. As you are, regrettably, well aware."

"You as well."

Bianca hummed. "When I finally did succeed, and the little boy's little friend came and found him, and saved him, I managed to cry the shard out of my eyes. And that's how Queen Frost found me. A pathetic, weeping mess in the highest reaches of the Nordic countries. She told me that I would find what I needed here in Crystal Springs; that it would heal the hurt. That I'd be safe. And…I was. But the hurt never left. See, the shard in my heart stayed put. And whenever a child would come near my domain, I'd keep them as long as I could, just to try and thaw my icy little heart."

"Oh. That's…how am I both heartbroken and appalled?"

"I am a woman of many talents, it would seem.” Bianca laughed, the laughter trailing off with a small exhale. “It's messy, I know. And it got messier still. Nothing worked. I was devastated; stayed up in the mountains with my storms and my lands and all that nonsense. I was there for eons…until your Grandfather entered my life."

Jacqueline watched as Bianca softened, her face lighting up. The mirror seemed to shudder; it did not like where her memories were going. It disappeared as she looked away, awash in them.

"Was it love at first sight?"

"Ha! No. I thought him annoying and irritating and all but blew him right off my mountain. But he was like one of your brother's stray animals. He just kept coming right back! One day, I found myself not blowing him off the mountain. And then I looked forward to his visits. And then I told him about the mirror and everything and he helped me gather the pieces and seal it away. And we fell in love, and one thing led to another and we found ourselves expecting. In the traditional way. By ordibeing standards, of course."

"Oh! So Mom was the first sprite to be born instead of made?"

"Yes, and no. It was the first any pair of sprites had managed to conceive a child on purpose. Emphasis on the on purpose. The only example they had to go off of was Fate-touched, so they had no idea how reliable that experience would be compared to this one.”

“That experience being?”

“The Twin Princes.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that! I just assumed they were made the way all sprites used to be made, you know?”

“The King and Queen tried, of course. Fate prevented it from happening like that. But it worked the other way.” Bianca shrugged. “Serafina was a rather clever warlock. She knew exactly what needed doing for a safe delivery and all, and got it done well before they were born. But your grandfather and I...”

“Would’ve had no idea, since it’s not like the monarchy shared these sorts of things. And given how sprites were made, it was probably to them like, one and done kinda deal, I’d bet. They assumed it would never happen like that again.”

“Ha! And your grandfather and I went and proved them wrong. They’d have hated that! They probably did.” She grinned. “At any rate, given the circumstances, healers monitored us closely; we didn't know what to expect. A sprite had never been formed like that naturally, you know. Lady only knew what would happen. But I tried very hard not to think about that. I focused on when I could feel her move about, and making a nursery, you know. All those things you do when you're expecting."

"I don’t know if I'd know that! We uh. We were NOT expecting at ALL when Joy showed up, dragging Jack Frostbitten Frost himself and Venus, goddess of frostbitten love, behind her, the three of them being pursued by the personifications of Despair and Sadness."

"Oh my."

"I know! I'd have loved to paint a nursery or have that whole build up to her arrival, but it was very sudden and violent.” She looked sheepish for a moment, running her hand through her hair and looking away. “I was very violent."

"Momma bear energy, yes?"

"Oh, big time. The moment Jack told me who she was and it all clicked and that connection was there, I just. I lost it. She's the personification of Joy, Bianca. Despair and Sadness wanted to consume her essence in the hopes that they'd feel something other than what they are."

"Oh. So you had a breakdown."

"Huge. I went feral. And in the end, as seems to be the case with this family, it was a hug that did it; Joy defeated Sadness and Despair with a hug."

"What an impressive child."

"She's so impressive. And she did that as a three-year-old. Which is HELLA impressive by sprite standards. Though she didn't quite age like a sprite? She is now, but she was aging like a human almost until she hit six. Regular six. Not six hundred."

"How old is she now?"

"Almost one hundred! I'm kinda relieved she seems to be taking after the celestial side more than the sprite side. I'm not sure I'm prepared for a century of trying to help her keep shape, followed IMMEDIATELY by a century of her keeping shape AND being a terror about it."

Bianca laughed. "The terrible two-hundreds."

"Mm. Mom and Dad say all four of us were pretty brutal, so I'm sure my kids will be no different. Sorry, I got so off topic. We were talking about Mom!"

"And then went into moms territory. Not off topic at all, sweetheart."

"But I wanna hear the rest of the story!"

Bianca laughed. "All right, all right. You don’t need to lose shape about it."

Jacqueline pulled a face. She lifted a hand, the entire thing AND her arm suddenly turning into snow as she tilted her head, crossed her eyes and went "BLARGH!"

Bianca wheezed. "Okay! I'm going! Pull yourself together, young lady!"

Cackling, Jacqueline's arm solidified. She curled up, snuggling back into the couch. "Okay. I'm behaving."

"You know, I don’t think you ever have."

"That's because you've been talking to Jack too much. He likes to play it up like I was the most troublesome thing around, but he definitely made it ten times worse."

"Now that I believe."

She giggled, her small smile reminding Bianca very much of a time when Winter was a child. A time well before The Call, before the repeat of her past mistakes, and before she was cast from Rosehaven for Lady knows WHAT reason.

"Bianca? You okay?"

She cleared her throat. Swallowed the emotion. Nodded. "As fine as can be, all things considered."

"We can stop if it's too much. I didn't mean to press."

"Oh! No. It's quite all right. Big feelings are big feelings. It's best we experience them. Least we steal children about it."

Jacqueline giggled.

"Where did I leave off?"

"Nursery. Prep work. That sorta thing."

"Right. Well…the time came, eventually. She was ready to arrive. And arrive she did. As a pile of snow and ice. Baby shaped, but lifeless. I…I sobbed. I sobbed, and sobbed, Jacqueline. I was beside myself. I refused to let her go, and your grandfather, bless his soul, stood by my side the entire time, and did not try to take her away from me. He did his own research; called Mother Gaia and her daughter, Tara. They came by and brought with them a life light. The thing you are given as a freshly made sprite to give yourself a form. They gave it to us, and it turned white as snow, and your grandfather and I placed it within Winter and she came to life, with the loudest cries. Oh, I was so, so relieved."

"She was brought to life. That was the miracle."

Bianca nodded. "And she was full of life. Very silly, a little goofball just like her father. And devastatingly savage when needed, just like her mother. She was smart and keen and we loved her to bits! It broke my heart, what we did. To think, fighting to keep our home safe for our daughter ended up with us losing her. And now I have that chance again, to know her, to love her…but it's been thousands of years. Thousands. Tara is far more her mother than I ever was. And my darling Winter Warlock isn't here to see any of it." Eyes downcast, Bianca looked at the cold glass of milk in her hands and sighed.

"Oh, here! Let me get that for you."

"No need, Jacqueline dear. I've got it."

Both winter sprites jumped a bit as Winter herself stepped through the archway, cloak draped over her arms. She placed it gently on the egg chair by the entrance, wiping something off of her cheek and cleared her throat. "Here. I can take it. I'll show you how the microwave works."

"Oh, it's quite all right, dear. I'm not even sure I really want it anymore—"

"Yes you do," both women said, in unison, in the same tone of voice. They looked at one another, giggling a little bit.

"You miss your boo thang, Bianca! Of course you'd want to indulge in something that makes you think of him!"

"I wouldn't argue with her," Winter agreed, gently taking the glass of milk out of Bianca's hands. "She's married to Cupid's successor. And has been having many sweets for the exact same reason you find yourself craving a warm glass of milk."

"Ah. I'm out numbered, it appears."

"And outwitted! Come on, up you go. Here." Winter offered her an arm. Bianca took it with a grateful look, gently prying herself out of the cushions. "Let's get those limbs of yours all warmed up."

___

Bianca let her daughter lead her into the kitchen. She tried not to lean on her too terribly much, but the support was…nice. They made their way to the microwave, stopping in front of it.

"The big button here opens it." Winter clicked it; there was a crunch and a low thrum and the door popped open again, the little light flickering on. "Just place the glass inside and click start a handful of times."

"A handful?"

"The number keys are preset. The one warms it for one minute, the two for two, and so on and so forth. The start button does thirty seconds which is usually all I need. Though I will admit, I don’t often use this thing. Usually I bring it to Blaise."

Bianca smiled. "I'd do the same, were I you. I briefly thought about it, actually, but didn’t want to wake him. He seems so stressed about this all…and the younger two? Goddess above. I daresay whatever would happen after waking them would be enough to send us all back to Rosehaven."

Winter laughed. "Fino and Fiera certainly are characters. They were worse in their younger years. I'm inclined to say they've mellowed out at sixteen hundred, but I'm not entirely sure I believe that. I don't think any of the four of them are capable of mellowing out, if I'm being honest."

Bianca chuckled quietly, gently closing the microwave door shut and tapping the start button three times. The noise it made nearly shook her bones; her jaw was most certainly knocking about.

"Dear me."

"Yes, it's a little loud. And a little too fancy for my tastes. But Jack was very excited about it, as was Blaise. I figured I may as well let them have their fun."

Bianca smiled.

Winter smiled back.

The microwave hummed behind them as the silence pressed on. Comfortable, but with something unspoken lingering between them as the microwave continued to tick down the seconds.

"How long were you—"

Bianca did not get to finish her sentence. The words were cut very suddenly as Winter wrapped her arms around her torso and pulled her in, squishing her very, very tightly.

"Long enough," she said, muffled against Bianca's chest. "I'm sorry."

"No." Bianca wrapped her arms around her daughter, cupping the back of her head and tilting it towards her, kissing the very top of it. "I am."

"Goddess above, that sounded so awful, I—" Winter lifted her head, looking up at her mother. "I couldn't even imagine any of that happening to me and my kids. I'd be beside myself."

"I was. And still am. And even though this situation is so messed up…perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I'm glad. I'm glad to see you living, thriving—" she smiled, wiping the tears off of Winter's face with both her thumbs. "It's all we ever wanted for you."

"I'd be devastated if it were me, and Blaise wasn't by my side to see everything the kids have done."

Bianca's grip tightened. She laughed. "It hurts, yes. Oh, I love him so much. He was my everything. Is my everything. I—"

"WAIT, HOLD ON. GRANNY BEE."

Her breath hitched as Jacqueline came sliding out the den, phone in her hand, looking frantic in an excited way. She'd called Bianca Granny!

"Jacqueline, careful!" Winter let go of her mother and reached out, grabbing Jacqueline before she could fall forward. "You know the kitchen is slippery in those socks of yours."

"I know, I know! But I just! Granny Bee." She caught her breath. "Hey. Hi. Woah. You okay?"

She sniffled, wiping away tears. "YES. GRANNY BEE IS JUST FINE."

Winter and Jacqueline shared a look. "O-kay…listen. I got an idea. I just need to ask you a few questions."

"Sure. Sure. Certainly." Another sniffle. The microwave beeped. "How can I help?"

Winter opened the microwave, passing Bianca the warmed milk. She nodded her thanks, taking a sip as Jacqueline started explaining.

"My wife. She's Cupid. Well, next in line to be Cupid. Right. Anyway, uh, because of that, she's really good at love stuff??? So HERE'S the THING. Would you say that the Winter Warlock is the—"

"Love of my life? My soulmate in all senses of the word? Partner in crime? My person?"

Jacqueline blinked. "Yes."

"Yes. Oh, absolutely, yes. That man. He's. I just—" her fingers tightened on her glass as she tried and failed to find the words to describe their love.

But for Jacqueline, apparently, that was enough.

She grinned, feral, whipping up her phone. "I knew it. Okay, so, I have this crazy idea. I think I know how to find him."

"What?"

"You do?"

"Yeah!" She put the phone up to her ear. "If you're okay with it, Mom. I know things have been kinda tough? I don't want to throw the other parent at you when you and Granny B are still working sleet out."

"Oh! Yes! Of course! If you're comfortable with it, Winter dear."

Winter's brow furrowed as she thought about it for a moment. "Well. I think before I know how I feel about that, we'd have to see if we even can find him first. And then, given the state you were in, Bianca…what state he's in."

"And if he has a shard in his eye, or worse, his heart…I shudder to think what part he'd be playing in this mess."

"Oh?"

Bianca nodded. "He was a brilliant warlock! Is a brilliant warlock. His mind…I believe Fiera would call him a giant nerd. Given that, and how he was like back before he met me, before he met Kris, even…I both hope and fear that he knows more about what is going on than all of us."

"Then we better go frostbitten find him, eh? How do we feel about a ladies trip to Mount Olympus…"

[triglycercule]

another doodle :3 mtt clothing swap!

DUST STOP SERVING WITH HORROR AND TAKE YOUR DEAD ASS BROTHERS SCARF OFF KILLER HES ABOUT TO HAVE A MOVIE REALISTIC PANIC ATTACK

[timeguardians]

Call Out My Name. I'll Be There

a Chicago Fire one shot: Violet Mikami X Sam Carver

Summary:

In the traumatic aftermath of Hawkin's death, can Violet allow herself to ever free-fall into love again? Is she ready to pursue a romance with a firehouse bombshell?

Will being bold pay off for Sam Carver or will he end up facing rejection.

________________________

Sam Carver is an infernal distraction! Albeit a more smiley, gleeful menace than vengeful viperish sort. There's something alluring about those damnably deep sea-blue eyes. At first their ceaseless fathoms are aloof, a mere temptation, that can easily be glossed over. Then, with a more discerning stare, they become deceptively inviting and hopelessly warm. It is in staring that something occurs to Violet. A thought she desperately wishes to suppress, despite how electrifying it is. He is the wildcard that she never saw coming. A shot at love that she had never truly considered.

Sam, as irredeemable as he feels, can find himself lost. Helplessly tangled in a ball of ceaseless knots. For the first time, in what feels like an eternity, there is a stimulation greater than what the piney taste of alcohol can provide. It's her. His angel of mercy is vivacious, alive like the breath of Spring.

Violet's sheepish glances, the ones she cast in his direction before catching herself and diverting, send his heart into a dizzyingly frantic frenzy. What keeps her pushing away? Was he so undesirable? Had he audibly mentioned something she found appalling?

A pinch of shame coils through Carver as Violet occupies herself once more instead of joining him at his table. In truth, he had chased Cap out of that damnably vacated seat opposite him.

Sam yearned for this shared time with a quieted sense of desperation. This time after shift, when she'd allow tension-riddled lips to unfurl into a glorious grin. A grin she would cast towards him. When she'd sit next to him. For a solitary moment, he could almost pretend to be whole, instead of the fractured soul he knew he was. He feels a deepening ache spiderweb palpably, branching out through his arms till it hits his curling fingers. What had he done? The thought blazes through his mind like a flashover, searing and suffocating.

Carver's presence is tantalizingly magnetic. The minute she enters Molly's, Violet's eyes instantly seek him out amongst the familiar brood of faces. The doleful dark orbs pursue him the way they once had Evan. And then it comes colliding back like a ferocious tidal wave, that crippling, clawing of razor-sharp guilt. Within seconds, her heart is in shredded tatters again. It's shallow thrum becomes agonizing.

How could she ever move on? Violet can't. Not now. If Sam gave her one of his patented empathetic glances, she might melt. She might liquify into his sturdy, capable arms of his. How shameful would that be? For her to put her beloved Evan in the rearview mirror so casually? Wouldn't it be better to shut that wantonly feeling part of her down?

Delving into wedding planning is just the diversion she requires. Hurried are her steps as she moves to leave. A month doesn't leave her with nearly enough time to finish all the things she must as the newly crowned Maid of Honor. She intends to depart from Molly's in order to inspect a place that Cap had recommended for a bachelorette party. She knows Sylvie has incredibly high standards. Standards she can't meet if she's preoccupied with Sam Carver.

"Can we talk?" A masculine voice, so sweet, and so honeyed beckoned. For the inkling of a breath, Violet wished there hadn't been the vaguest semblance of familiarity carried by every syllable. She swallows down a thick sense of dread as she turns, turns to him the object of incessant strife and even more pining.

Violet's exhale grows rigid as he reaches for her. His strong fingers gingerly anchor around her porcelain wrist. "Sure. What is it?" She manages to amble out, her whirling mind taking a few seconds too long to catch up to her mouth.

He laxes his grip as she willingly decides to delay whatever errand had her in such haste. Carver feels his shoulders crumble, just a hair. Her tone was every bit as amicable as it had been at the firehouse and yet, his intestines seem to coldly coil. "Have I," he starts, courage fleeting as his heart begins to drum more fiercely. "Have I said or done something to offend you?" Carver manages to breathlessly blurt out.

Violet recoils slightly. Jilting in the faintest fashion, as if scalded when reaching into an oven to retrieve a snack she forgot was hot. That is nothing in the ballpark of what she had anticipated to hear. "What?" Oh, how silly the questioning word sounded when it landed upon the shell of her ears. Her tongue wets the parched curve of her lip and readies with more intelligible speech when he patiently interjects.

"I feel like I should apologize. I'm just not sure what I'd be apologizing for." Sam manages, his hands raising into a gesture he hopes would be perceived as placating.

"I- I don't understand." Violet murmurs. Her dark brows scrunch together in confusion over the subtle slope of her nose. A part of her perfectly manicured facade crumbles as her eyes met his. His eyes are so turquoise, they engulf her like a readily foaming, Summer Seas. "Is there something you should apologize for?"

He plows his hand through his luxurious brunette stands. Averting his gaze, he attempts to tally up anything that might be misconstrued as rude or awful. "I don't know. It's just, you were ignoring me in there." His head cants towards Molly's door. "I thought I had said something to affront you."

"Like what? Offering to help me in a time of need?" She softly challenges. But then, Violet bristles. The misunderstanding now coming into closer definition. "I-" Her voice quavers as if it lacked solid substance. It was difficult to ignore now that the utterance had fallen precariously from his lips. She had been ignoring him. She had hoped he wouldn't notice."You've done --- done nothing. Believe me." Mikami reiterates, in a tone she prayed was more believable than the last she employed.

"Then what is it?" Sam treads dangerously closer, his tone as careless as a lover's whisper. The space between them closing intimately. Unfurling a clenched hand, he thoughtlessly presses it to her cheek. "Just tell me what I've done. I don't want to feel like we're waking on eggshells." He eagerly prods.

His sudden tender touch catches her off guard so much so that Violet seizes up. Aghast lips part, her eyes readily searching him only to startle at the intensity of his gaze. She'd seen that look from Evan. Was it even fair to consider asking Sam Carver to live in Hawkin's shadows?

It occurs to him to retract the hand pressed to Mikami's cheek. Yet, human contact, as little as it was, only fueled his yearning. Carver gently strokes his thumb along her wonderfully smooth skin. "Do I frighten you?" He asks, dropping his voice into an unintentional silvery sotte-voce.

Her face burns crimson beneath the ghosting of his delicate touch. She wills her clenching jaw to unhinge, to gift him an answer that he deserves. One, preferably, that would not drive him away forever. "No, I- I'm not afraid of you. It's just..." Violet finds herself leaning haphazardly inwards till they are nearly chest to chest.

Carver laughs a bit to expel the nervous energy swelling up inside his form. He once more entreats, "What is it?"

Violet swallows impossibly hard. How could she relate the sheer level of emotion that bathed over her every time he so much as peered in her direction? Ebony lashes flit downwards to grace the globes of her cheeks."I promised myself after ---" she feels her voice hitch, "after Evan, that I would never fall in love again. But you're here and you're making that promise so damn hard to keep! I don't want to end up with my heart broken. Statistically, avoiding the heartbreak is ---"

Her words are smothered under the sudden heat of his lips as they crash with her's. Oh, he knows he ought not to have crossed that line. Controlling his impulses had never been one of his fortes.

All he can think of is how beautiful Violet is under the golden glow of the streetlights as they slowly flitter to life. He makes no urgent effort to withdraw from her space, even if the name of Evan does bring up a pinch of envy. A pinch that seemingly traverses his spine in the amount of time it takes for his next breath to be drawn. He knows she's still burned, still devastated from that loss. He could never hope to compare, he could never even think about trying to replace a man who was so dearly treasured.

"I don't want to replace him, Violet." Sam ventures to express while she is still visibly reeling. "Lord knows I never could." He reminds her. "I just want to take care of you, to help you. I want you to know that it's okay to let somebody in. Anybody. Doesn't have to be me." He adds. His thumb blazes another trail over her skin again.

Violet blinks up at him in bewilderment. The astonishment flooding through her veins wars across all of her suddenly warm features. He just kissed her. Was that real? Had she imagined it? Had she imagined how silky and comforting being kissed by him could be? Her hand gradually unfurls against his chest, she's only half listening as he ambles out his speech. Was this Evan's way of letting her know that it's okay to let go? That she should embrace this new avenue while it was presented. But Carver was a firefighter, a feckless one at that. She's already had to treat him a few times in the back of the ambulance.

Relentless thunder fills her eardrums as her eyes flash back upwards. "I ---" She swallows again, revisiting his offer to help and protect her. It was sweet. Sweet in all the ways she had been longing for. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this." She whispers, afraid the fragile quality of her own voice might ruin whatever kind of moment was transpiring between them.

"Take all the time you need," Sam assures her. "My father used to say the right one is always worth the wait." He relates, allowing himself to be quite open in a way that made him feel vulnerable. "Just know that you can call out my name. I'll be there in a heartbeat. All you have to do is ask." He swallows, his own voice quivering a degree. "On the nights you feel outnumbered, I'll be out there somewhere."

[nuravity]

Like for a starter. Will be selective with these.

[troublcmakcrs]

//i do kinda wish more people in the sp fandom played the kids as their actual age kfjdskjdf

[tvrningout-a]

excuse me while i go loco crazy silly with these memes : )

[sunoflegend]

now my question is when am i gonna have a TF movie that gets starscream in it.. please starscream come home i miss you.....

[wanderingpages]

Don't worryyyyyy about that lol make it a multi chapter!!

Lmaoo I’ll seeeeeeee

[cajuncardtricks]

quick little tag dump! feel free to keep scrolling.

˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  out of cajun seasoning.    //    ooc. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  listen to me very carefully.    //    psa. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  time to leave it to the luck of the draw.    //    prompts. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  live life like it’s one big game…cause it is cherei.    //    games. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  i shot out uh there sayin what’s up doc!    //    crack. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  the ragin cajun.    //    remy. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  after all this time i still manage to impress myself.    //    isms. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  i knew if i wore this trenchcoat long enough…i’d event’ly come in handy.    //    musing. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  did you get my calling card?    //    wishlist. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  i played my card and you play your game.    //    romy. ˚. ✦.˳☁︎·˖  leave it up to the chance of the cards.    //    jambit.  (vinterstarn.)

[glacialswordsman]

ᴛᴀɢ ᴅᴜᴍᴘ 𝟏 / ?

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ behind the scenes. ⊰ ooc ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ on stage. ⊰ ic ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ beneath the mask. ⊰ headcanons ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ fanmail. ⊰ answered asks ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ pass the script. ⊰ ask prompt ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ shine the spotlight. ⊰ promo ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ intermission. ⊰ queue ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ character study. ⊰ musings ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ afterpiece. ⊰ dash games ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ between engagements. ⊰ dash commentary ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ break character. ⊰ crack ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ center of interest. ⊰ self-promo ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ cinematography. ⊰ video ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ artistic director. ⊰ my art ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ expository scene. ⊰ closed starter ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ curtain time. ⊰ thread ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ curtain call. ⊰ thread end ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ death at the box office. ⊰ dni ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ dramaturgy. ⊰ aesthetic ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ encore. ⊰ music ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ aesthetic distance. ⊰ wip ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ mise-en-scène. ⊰ art ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ improvisation. ⊰ open starter ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ melpomene. ⊰ introspection ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ dressing room. ⊰ visage ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ soliloquy. ⊰ one-shot ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ public address system. ⊰ psa ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ theater program. ⊰ pinned ⊱ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ slapstick. ⊰ meme ⊱

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⸺ callbacks. ⊰ saved ⊱

[mercmth]

[sukebansworn]

Starter call! Like this post for a starter from Mariko.

[tsukimirecs]

geto suguru // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

curious cat

lucky shot

dishonorable

what if i penned you like a tragedy, because i couldn't save you, but maybe it's enough that i tried

an acquired taste

to the wolves

wish you were sober

too tired to think (hug me)

gentle glow / deep thought

subway stations

mermaid motel

twelve minutes

waltz for sweatpants

tutorial on how not to get over your ex

butterflies

wouldst thou like to live deliciously?

in another lifetime

let the right one in

stealing glances, stealing hearts

an inescapable fate

wash it away

you never called

forever mine nevermind

do not answer

love me until i love myself

sweet

lillies

all my love, suguru

sooner or later.

so you were......... nothing?

sharing a kiss on new year's eve

controversy

summer nights

a grave of the future

muse

what if you're someone i just want around (i'm falling again)

i'd wait for you