#should i have figured this out when i was younger am i having a quarter life crisis

[gulabilli]

my problem is i torture myself with my wasted potential and the older i get the worse it becomes

[quiet-desperationn]

Roger Waters: Another crack in the wall

Original The Times article

No paywall alternative (the formatting gets a little bit messed up)

About craving a father figure

"Not surprisingly, the young Waters craved a father figure. 'I used to get up before six every morning and help [the milkman] deliver the milk. I did it every day. My mother said it used to break her heart because she knew I was so desperate to connect with men. We’d have political meetings in our house and these men would come in and I would immediately start doing somersaults, leap around, desperately trying to get these men to notice me, give me attention. She said it was sort of pathetic to watch.' "

About his relationship with women

"Waters admits he has struggled to understand women.  [...] He shakes his head: 'Learning to understand women has been an incredibly difficult journey for me. I hate anger in women, I’ve never known how to deal with it. The way I have always dealt with it was by crying, and I think women hate that.

'I have cried an enormous amount in my life. Under any kind of emotional stress I would burst into tears — in fights with the band, in fights with women, I would just weep. I’m being honest. I am not what people think.'

He blames the lack of a father figure for his problems with women. [...]

'If you live in the company of women all you learn is their power, you don’t learn how to be with them, you learn how to do as you are told.'"

About his ex band mates

"[...] Waters’ anger has not cooled with time: 'If you find it difficult to be creative the easiest way out of that is to say, ‘Oh, he wouldn’t let me do it, he was controlling, he was this and that.’ You either are a writer or you’re not; you are good at organizing or you are not; you are a leader or you are not. Well, I am all of those things and they are not any of those things, so it was necessary for them to say that I was a horrible person who did all of these things in a horrible way so it didn’t make them look weak.'"

About the 2010 The Wall tour

"Is this about the money? He smiles: 'It would be a drag if I was doing this to 50%-full houses and I lost money, but no, it’s been a much bigger thing for me. I think always in my mind, this was something for my dad.'"

About socialism

"Waters got rich. Surely that is a difficulty for someone reared by communists? 'When I finished Dark Side of the Moon, I started to realize I was going to have more money than I could spend; by definition a capitalist. I gave a quarter of it to a charitable trust and I still give money away, but I don’t feel guilty.'"

About fatherhood

"The boy who grew up without a father admits he didn’t excel at fatherhood himself: 'When I was younger I was just absent a lot of the time. I had no idea how to be a dad, I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do, and I think I allowed the mothers more power than I should. I’m glad I’ve come through with the kids, the older we get the better and better we get on.'"

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Six

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE Previous Chapter Tumblr Link HERE Posted First On A03 Here  I t’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always Read Safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Notes: I just want to say chapters wont always be updated so quickly. I just have a lot of free time rn and am a bored goblin obsessed with pirates.

Chapter 6: The Beginning of Friendship

“Okay you can’t hate The Good Witch Azura without actually reading it.” Luz sighed taking the book from Hunter and returning it to her chest.

    If he was just going to complain about every option, why did he ask.

    “Even the summary sounds cheesy.” Hunter stated. “I’m not a child.”

    “The Good Witch Azura has plenty of heavier topics.” Luz informed. “Just because it was targeted for a younger audience doesn’t make it bad.” 

    Hunter let out a little annoyed huff, and Luz wanted to be happy he was actually having any sort of actual personality, but why did he have to be like that?

    “What are you wanting to read?” Luz sighed, turning to him. “Maybe that would help? Anything you’re looking for?”

    He shrugged.

    If Luz wasn’t a good person she’d slap him.

    “Fine, how about you pick one.” She gestured to her chest and moved so Hunter could bend down and look inside. 

    Of course the boy instantly reached for the their own writing her and Amity were creating putting themselves into The Good Witch Azura world.

    “Not that one.” Luz was fast to stop him.

    Hunter didn’t comment, just ignored the book and looked through the others. It took him a bit of picking up different books and reading the backs before he finally settled on one.

    “Rulers Reach?” Luz scoffed.

    “Better than The Good Witch.” Hunter stated. “I heard this one is popular.”

    “Okay.” Luz shrugged. She was not about to go on the spill of how King wrote that book, and how Eda had surprised him by publishing it on his birthday under the pen name Princely.  She hadn’t realized it was popular on the mainland, they only published it so King could see his book as a book. Most everyone on the ship had a copy now.

    Hunter then must've decided the conversation was over as he took the book and started heading out of the crew's quarters. 

    “Don’t I get a thank you?” Luz shouted after him.

    Hunter turned back to her for a split second. “Thank you.” he said dully before leaving.

    At least he was showing interest in something. Even if rudely.

-----------------

    It was silly to want to read when he should be focusing on other things, but reading had always been his escape back home and he longed for it again. It wasn’t like he wasn’t watching as he did his chores, trying to spot a weakness in the crew. Just in those quiet moments when there wasn’t much to do Hunter would allow himself to read, instead of sitting aimlessly waiting.

    It was nice to have something to look forward to in a day.

    He was still paying attention to everything around him. Even when he was rushing his chores so he could possibly sit down for just a moment. He was watching. 

    He pretended he didn’t notice the eyes on him waiting for him to do something. He had grown accustomed to the eyes of people on him waiting for him to screw up. What difference was it if they were waiting for a betrayal. At least they weren’t stupid.

    It became a routine. Doing the chores Eda was trying to occupy his time with- He did notice he had more chores than the others- he didn’t really mind. Always watching as the children who babysat him talked or tried to have him interact with others. Keeping track of every member of the crew while the day goes by. Trying to figure out how to exploit their weakness and somehow capture at least just Eda and Lilth. Then at the end of the day he would allow himself time to read.

    It was perfectly healthy. 

    He could probably trick any of the children into doing what he wanted. They were kids after all. Alador seemed easy to convince when he was working on something else- he saw Amity do it. Perry was more of a thinker than a threat, but if Gus was on board he’d probably be on board as Perry seemed to care a great deal about the boy. Harvey was more strict on making sure Hunter wasn’t getting in trouble but his husband Gilbert cooled him down easily. Steve was easy going even if he did stare a bit to long at Hunter for his liking.

    The problem being was the ‘authority’ on this ship. Eda was a wildcard, hard to predict and made strange decisions. She always had her eye on Hunter from across the ship and when Hunter looked towards her she’d make some stupid face or wink at him. 

    Camila was the first mate. She was- weird. She acted so sweet to everyone making sure they were getting things done but also taking time for themselves. She had expressed interest at Hunter reading. Also apparently Amity told her of his attempt at borrowing beforehand. She had defended herself with a “you told me not to tell Eda.” So he still technically owed the purple girl a favor.

    Lilith was always holding her head high around Hunter. Like any time he’d seen her back in the navy. The judgemental scoffs, stares at bad decisions, and always watching him. It was annoying. The only thing that got her attention away was the cursed bird Hooty. 

    Those three would be his real challenge in pulling anything off. They needed to trust him first, and in order for that to happen he had to exploit their weakness- Luz.

    All three loved the loud girl very much and if he could have Luz thinking he was trustworthy. Perhaps they’d soften up. If they did, the rest of the crew would follow. Then it was a matter of figuring out the next step.

    Hunter had learned an effective method on getting his chores done faster and earned himself time to sit. His current babysitter was Gus, who liked to give Hunter space and was talking to Willow across the deck. Gus was probably his favorite babysitter he got assigned. Matt was annoying, Luz was loud, Amity was too bossy, Willow always helped, Edric tried to get Hunter to answer meaningless questions and Emira tried to convince him to pull pranks. 

    Gus gave him space, so Hunter could actually enjoy his breaks.

    He was using this one to observe Luz, trying to come up with a plan. She was being chased around by the little creature King who was screaming about Luz needing to pay for her crimes. Luz was laughing and easily dodging the poor attempts at attacks. 

    Kings hood fell off in the chaos of chasing the older girl. underneath was a mess of black hair and finned ears. Hunter hadn’t realized before but now with the sun reflecting off of him, he could make out Kings skin wasn’t skin, but scales, that started a human tone and slowly gradient to black and white.

    Hunter read about mermaids and sirens being able to almost mock human forms.

    They were bad luck to find. Why would a pirate ship choose to keep one?

    “I demand a formal apology!” King shouted as he chased the girl around, he didn’t seem to mind his hood was off now.

    “You’ve got to catch me first!” Luz chuckled, leaping up on a barrel easily to escape the child's attempt at a bullrush.

    “Francois defend your ruler!” King threw the little octopus doll at Luz but missed by a good few feet and the little doll landed with a squeak. 

    “Oh!” Luz leapt over to the doll and swiped it up. “Looks like I’ve captured your soldier. What you gonna do about it.”

    “Francois no!” King pushed himself back up to his feet and tried to reach the doll from Luz’s much taller grasp.

    It was ridiculous but Hunter couldn’t help the smirk as Luz threw the doll up into the air and King pushed her down so he could catch it before her.

    “It’s okay Francois.” He comforted the doll before shoving it in Luz’s face “Get your revenge!”

    Luz was cackling as she tried to stop the doll.

    “You can join them if you want.”  Eda appearing beside him made Hunter jump. He clutched his chest trying to calm his heart. Eda chuckled at him. “They are always down for more playmates.”

    “I don’t play games.” Hunter stated tensing as he could feel Eda’s judgement.

    “There’s no harm in it.” Eda shrugged. “Unless you want more chores?” She offered.

    “Nope, I’m fine.” Hunter stood and started walking to the two children. He already was struggling finding time to think with the amount of chores he had already.

    He could feel Edas smirk as he approached the creature sitting on Luz hitting her with his doll.

    “Hunter?” Luz stopped now holding Kings arm from hitting her- proving she could’ve done it at any point.

    “It’s the angsty blond kid.” King piped in looking up at Hunter, not paying any mind to the fact Luz proved she could stop him.

    “Who calls me that?” Hunter hadn’t meant to snap.

    “Hooty.” King and Luz said at the same time.

    Whatever it didn’t matter .

    “Do you need something?” Luz asked.

    “Eda wants me to hang out with you.” Hunter crossed his arms. Though he wondered if Eda was even still watching or if he could’ve opted out of this. It worked with building trust anyway.

    “Isn’t Gus watching you?” Luz pushed King off of her and King sat next to her on the deck.

    Hunter shrugged. “Yeah, He’s talking to Willow.” He motioned his head the direction of the two.

    “Are you gonna play with us?” King asked with big eyes.

    He didn’t play games.

    But if it meant building trust.

    He shrugged.

    Luz grinned. That was probably a good thing?

    “Yay!” King jumped up to his feet. “This is Francois.” He introduce the octopus doll to Hunter. “If you want Francois not to kill you. You’ll bow to your king!” King did a little pose to try to be scary.

    Hunter was not going to bow to this child. 

    “Francois attack!” King threw the doll Hunter but Hunter caught it.

    “Maybe this game isn’t right for Hunter.” Luz reasoned with King.

    “Who wouldn’t enjoy bowing to me?” King pouted crossing his arms. “Okay, fine. What do we play instead?”

    Luz looked to Hunter as if to silently ask ‘what do you want to do?’

    Hunter didn’t know, He never had time for such silly things as games . He shrugged.

    “A game for a navy boy?” King pondered aloud. “A game for a navy boy. I know!” He waved his finger in the air. “Let’s reenact the story book! The chapter where the girl finds the crazy witch.” 

    “I don’t think Hunter’s read it.” Luz sighed at the childs idea.

    “It’s fine! We’ll tell him how to act. Make him be that little demon dog thing the witch had.” King insisted. “I’ll be the evil witch and Luz can be the human girl!”

    “What is he talking about?” Hunter scoffed.

    “It’s this book Edas been reading to him.” Luz explained. “Just go along with it.”

    Which is how Hunter ended up following King around as he pretended to be an evil witch. Cackling at random things, mixing ‘potions’ and selling things of no value for a high price. Hunter mostly just observed Luz and King play the game as they said lines of dialogue from said book, he only responded when they told him what he was supposed to say. It was mostly little roars that Hunter put no energy behind.

    It was strange.

    It wasn’t until they ‘finished the chapter’ that the two were done. King decided he was done playing and gave Luz a hug before leaving to the captains quarters.

    “That was really cool of you.” Luz leaned against the rails with Hunter.

    He just made a fool of himself. How was that cool?

    “I know you were bored the whole time.” Luz continued. “It was a nice thing to do.” 

    He did something right.

    “I didn’t mind.” Hunter lied. He was insanely annoyed by the child's demanding ways but in the end it seemed to have been worth it.

    “You so did.” Luz gave a little punch to Hunters arm.

    Why did she punch him? It didn’t hurt but still? He thought he done good?

    “Woah.” Luz put her hand in the air in defense. “It wasn’t an attack, don't look at me like that.”

    “You punched me?” Hunter questioned holding the spot she had. 

    “It was a friendly punch.” Luz explained. “Sorry I didn’t mean to insult you.”

    Oh. Who does that?

    Hunter didn’t respond. He shouldn’t have jumped to defense so quickly, that wasn’t how one earned trust.

    “Are you enjoying Rulers Reach?” Luz changed the topic after a few moments of silence.

    Right, the book. That was something to talk about.

    “Yeah.” Hunter did not lie. He was enjoying it. “There’s a lot of violence but it's an interesting read. I like how Princely describes the world.”

    “Complex.” Luz repeated as if she didn't agree- which she'd be wrong not to. “How far did you get?”

    “Luzara just killed that evil mayor. '' Hunter shrugged. “I can’t remember the mayor's name but he was an asshole. Hiding all the stuff from everyone. I was so happy he died.” He bit his lip to fight the urge to ramble about everything he’s read already. He needed this girl to like him and not be annoyed at him.

    “Well I won’t spoil anything.” Luz smiled. “Just treat my book good.”

    “I am.” Hunter assured. 

    “If there’s any new tears in it I’ll know.” Luz teased with a little glare.

    Luz’s weakness was that she trusted too easily. She was so kind to him when she didn’t know him. She was naive.

    Which was great for Hunter.

-------------

    It was a week now that Hunter had joined the crew. He still was stand-off-ish and only talked when spoken to, except on special occasions. Gus had been surprised to see the boy playing with King and Luz. It clearly wasn’t his taste so Gus had to assume someone- probably Eda- had pushed him to do it. 

    Gus also noticed that the boy had started reading. Luz had lended him her copy of Rulers Reach and when Gus asked about it to Hunter the boy seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it as he ended up rambling about this part he was on before cutting himself off. 

    Hunter was nervous to be himself.

     or

    Perhaps Hunter didn't allow himself to be himself.

    Gus could recognize it. He himself used to have the nervousness of fitting in back home. No one liked the boy who had “visions.” He’d gotten used to the behavior of others and overtime met Willow. Willow who needed him as much as he needed her. Until they got caught up with Luz- the pirate.

    Luz had a way of breaking into people's hearts. It was only a matter of time before Hunter was attached. He already seemed to be on track of calling her a friend. Even if the ex-navy denied it.

    Hunter seemed to still be one of the main conversations of the crew. As Bump’s island grew nearer they were curious what the boy was going to do. Luz was worried he’d leave, but some were worried he’d stay.

    Gus had a feeling the boy was going to stay. 

Luz was up in the crows nest calling the ships and which side they were on as they approached Bumps island. They had no worry of coming up on a fight around here as this was neutral area. Everyone knew better than to fight in Bump’s zone. He was a powerful ex-captain to make upset. 

    As they pulled into port Gus could make out the busy docks. It seemed everyone was stopping here right now. 

    “Alright kids.” Eda called from the top story of the deck looking down at the kids who always seemed to gather as they anchored. “You know the deal, everyone grabs a partner. Don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of, and don’t let no measly merchant scam you but always feel free to scam them” She waved. “We’ll be in port for at least three days unless Alador deems we need more time for repairs.”

    Gus could see Hunter talking to Luz already planning to partner with her. 

    No that wouldn't do. 

    “Hey Amity.” Gus gave a little pat to Amitys shoulder. “Doesn’t Hunter owe you a favor?” He motioned his head to Luz. 

    He could see the gears in Amitys head turning. “Yes, How do you know about that? Oh nevermind Hunter!” She went after Hunter so she could trade partners. 

    Edric and Emira were already paired up which just left.

    “What’s taking so long?” Matt demand. They always ended up pairing up. Matt was a hard person for most to get along with.

    “I am actually supposed to be with Hunter.” Gus lied. “You can ask Willow?” He suggested walking away before the other boy could whine and complain about sticking Hunter with Willow.

    “Hey Hunter?” Gus smiled as he reached the blond boy. “Need a partner?”

     Gus had suspicions about the boy.

     And he was going to get answers.

7TH Chapter Tumblr Link

[lifetimeshipper]

Life's New Adventures and Secrets

Chapter 7

~~~~~~~~~~

Nightback ran to Wheeljack and Arcee's quarters and knocked on the door. Arcee opens the door, "Nightback, here to see Seajumper?"

"Yes, ma'am, and I'm really sorry about yesterday."

"No worries, at least you kids are safe."

"Is Wheeljack here? I wanted to apologize to him too."

"Yeah. Wheeljack, come to the door."

Wheeljack walks to the door, "Hey, Nightback."

"Hi, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. And I promise it won't happen again."

"No worries, kid."

"Is it okay if Seajumper can come out to play?"

"I thought you were grounded."

"I am but Mom said that Seajumper could come over to play."

"Oh, okay. Seajumper!"

"Yes?" Seajumper asked slowly coming out of his room.

"You want to go play with Nightback?"

"I thought you were grounded for the day."

"I am but Mom said you can come over to play."

"Cool. Do you think Emberwing would want to play?" The younger mech asked as they went outside.

"I'm afraid to ask."

"I know, what if she doesn't want to play with us, or if Thunderhoof and Metalsound say they don't want us to play with her anymore."

"Yeah," Nightback said looking down at the ground.

"You could just ask," Grimlock said as he approached the two boys.

"What if they yell at us or something?"

"I'm sure if you apologize they won't yell... Maybe," Grimlock replied as he pondered on the thought.

"Guess we can give it a try," Nightback says looking at Seajumper. Seajumper nodded, and then they went to see Emberwing.

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

"When did you tell our son that we were once enemies and why?" Strongarm asked Steeljaw as she sat next to him on the berth.

"The other day," he replied feeling his ears fold back. "The reason I told him was because he was shocked at how quickly Emberwing bucked him off her back, so I was explaining to him that he should never underestimate a femme."

"Ah, I see. I still can't believe I beat you. Are you sure you weren't going easy on me?"

"I'm sure, plus you kept throwing things at me," he chuckled.

Strongarm chuckled as well, "Well, it helped me take you off guard. You were too busy shaking your helm from the hit of the items you didn't know I had went air born for a kick to your face until it was too late."

"I guess I deserved that for throwing sand in your optics," he chuckled as he leaned his helm on her shoulder, "I'm sorry for that by the way."

"Eh, it was battle. Gave me a lesson actually."

"And what was the lesson?"

"That you should always look out for cheap tricks from your opponent, even if it's dirty."

"Yep," his tail slowly wrapped around her waist.

She giggled, "I'm glad we had that fight, it brought us together. Sounds strange but true."

"Yes, it did," he whispered as he kissed her neck.

"If it wasn't for that fight you probably wouldn't have fallen in love with me and we wouldn't have gotten together. You would be in stasis with the others right now."

Steeljaw made a sound in agreement as he kissed down her arm, "I'm just glad we met and you gave me a second chance after I screwed up."

"I couldn't stay mad at you. I figured it was only right to give you another chance."

His arm wrapped around her stomach, holding her close he slowly moved back to her neck, "Thank you," he said as he held her close and took in her scent. Strongarm just smiled.

"You're free to leave, Steeljaw. So you two take your sentimental scrap to your room please," Ratchet cuts in. Steeljaw chuckled as he let go of his mate. Slowly getting off the berth he took her servo and led her out of Med Bay and to their room.

They get to their room and Strongarm helps him lie down, "Can I get you anything?"

"Just your love," he replied with a smirk. She smiles at him as she lies down next to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he nuzzled her neck once again.

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

The boys are at Emberwing's place now, and Seajumper knocks on the door. Thunderhoof opened the door and looked down at the two boys, "Do your parents know you two are here?"

"Well, mine does but his don't," Seajumper replied

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday. How's Emberwing?" Nightback asked feeling smaller than he ever had before. Thunderhoof scared him.

"She's healing but very sore."

"Can we see her?"

"No. Metalsound and I don't want you around her.... at the moment at least. Maybe later after Metalsound and I are more calm and relaxed about the situation."

"Okay," Nightback said quietly, "Can you tell Metalsound I'm sorry?"

"Will do."

"Thank you," he walked off, his tail tucked between his legs. Thunderhoof shook his helm with a sigh as he went back inside.

"Don't worry about it, Nightback, he said only for the moment," Seajumper says trying to comfort his friend.

"But who knows how long that will be. What if they never let her play with us again?"

"Just give them some time to cool off."

"You're right. So, what do you want to do?"

"Um, wrestle?"

"I don't feel like it. Wanna race?"

"How? We're confined to the scrapyard and don't forget you're grounded."

"You're not grounded?"

"Yeah, I am. Why do you think I was so surprised when Dad asked me if I would like to come out and play with you?"

"Ohh, maybe we can help Fixit or Soundwave with anything?"

"Yeah, let's go see."

The two headed towards the Alchemor, both Fixit and Soundwave were at the monitors, keeping an eye out for Decepticon activity. The two boys run up to them, "Hey, Fixit. Hey, Soundwave."

"Hello, Nightback, Seajumper. How are you today?" Fixit asked.

"Doing good. We wanted to know if there was anything we could do to help."

A red X appeared on Soundwave's visor as he went back to the screen, typing away.

"Awwwwwwwwww," the two boys groaned, "Now what?" Nightback asked Seajumper. The younger mech shrugged before the alarm sounded making both boys jump. Bumblebee and the others come running.

"What's happening?" Nightback asked as he covered his ears.

"We got Decepticon signals," the Mini-Con replied.

"How many and where are they?" Bumblebee asked.

"There's only four of them, and they're near the lake where Decepticon Island used to be."

"Right, let's go!" Bumblebee and the others transform and roll out.

"Man, I wish we could watch," Seajumper said as the team left.

"Yeah, me too."

Soundwave looked at the boys for a moment before deploying Laserbeak to follow after the group. The group follows the coordinates to where the 'Cons are.

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

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

[sniffanimal]

can't figure out how to word a post but I've been getting a lot of perspective on past mistakes and stupid drama squabbles and such by realizing we're all just products of our experiences and sometimes your experiences are that you're only 18. or only 25. or only 35. etc. you know? I'm not saying the older you get the less excusable mistakes are/less mistakes you make, not at all. I'm saying like when you make a mistake, or have conflict, or something, if you can step back and say "is this because I'm X years old?" it can give you perspective on the situation.

warned you I can't figure out how to word it and also my sleep meds are kicking in and so I'm not coherent but anyways I found myself sighing at some tiktok drama I was reading about bc the parties were both like, 22. and really I'm not much older than 22, but God I'm a lot less stupid than I was at 22, and I'll probably be even less stupid in 5 more years.

humans grow and change and that's the beauty in watching teens and young adults squabble over art styles on tiktok. ah to be young and have no bigger fish to fry than your social media call-out over something with no real world repercussions.

sidenote I'm so glad I didn't medically transition til I was like 24 and therefore hated my voice for nearly a quarter of a century because I never got into making video content about stuff I did. epic dysphoria win. instead I decided to get a job that keeps me off the Internet for 6 hours a day and touching grass with real people.

oh god I just realized my student (a paraplegic) probably hasn't touched grass in a long time, potentially ever. I should bring in a pot of wheatgrass for her. I give her sticks and leaves a lot but how have I neglected touching grass this whole time

a character on greys anatomy said she's 25 out loud on screen and I shriveled a little bit bc it's so weird being older than TV drama characters. I had just gotten over being older than high schoolers on TV but now I have to reckon with being older than people with medical degrees. there's a good chance the nice nurse at my doctor's office is younger than me, he looks younger than me. oh god the passage of time!

genuinely I can't wait to be 30. I think after 30 it'll be easier to understand I'm 30. "nearly 30" feels like cheating, I'm not even 27 (in like 6 weeks I will be). at 30 I think I'll feel the solidness of a number divisible by 10.

I am excited for 27 though, it's my golden birthday and my favorite number. and a nice cube. weird al likes the number 27

what was this post about again

[unseededtoast]

Antedate | Bucky Barnes

Part 5/13 | Part Four, Part Six

Summary: Sometimes making the right decision feels like the wrong one. That decision can stick with you for years and leave you wondering what would happen if you had chosen something else. But the alternatives likely lead to a much darker path; you'll never know for sure though. One thing is for certain, the decisions I have made will have lasting consequences.

Prequel to Rectify

Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, physical and mental abuse, mention and description of death

a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!

"Show them that Hydra has the answers to all their problems."

I peek from behind the curtain to see a multitude of people sitting in the audience. My father wasn't exaggerating when he said that this was sure to attract a crowd. I look at the faces in the front row, and I recognize them all. The world's most elite and wealthy. I wipe my palms on my black pants and straighten out my red blazer. This outfit isn't one I would've chosen for myself, but father wanted to make sure my appearance was exactly the way he envisioned.

I take a few steps back from the stage and close my eyes. I've memorized my speech and I know for a fact my program is going to work. I just hope my father didn't review it, or if he did, that he doesn't understand it. I made some slight changes to his request, but hopefully he'll never figure that out.

I look to my right and see my father, along with Dane, laughing with some people of notoriety. Their smiles make me sick to my stomach. I see them coming my way and gather my composure, this is supposed to be the biggest day of my life after all. I plaster a perfectly fake smile on my face as my father introduces me to someone.

The man is younger, can't be over 35, blonde, big glasses. I've never seen him before but surely I'm about to hear all about him. As they approach I notice the man look my body up and down with an almost predatory gaze. This should be a treat.

"This is my daughter, Adalyn. One of Hydra's biggest and brightest brains." My father stands beside me and wraps and arm around my shoulder. Dane stands on my other side, and the mystery man in front of me.

"What a pleasure it is." The man reaches for my hand and kisses the top of it. I suppress the sickening shivers that want to course through my body. Time to put on the show of a lifetime.

"Pleasure is all mine." I say, responding to him in English instead of my native language.

"What a lovely accent, Miss Averina. I look forward to our meeting later." The man looks over me once more before Dane escorts him elsewhere. My father quickly removes his arm from around me, and I look at him quizzically.

"That was Mr. Pierce. He will be our first contractor. Paid a pretty penny to be the first. After the demonstration, you are to meet in the asset's quarters. Make a contract with him, whatever he wants." My father says quietly so that others passing by can't hear. He leads me to the edge of the stage, which is hidden from the audience by thick curtains.

"Go out there and make me proud. Show them that Hydra has the answers to all their problems. Show them that I am at the forefront of the market. Show them how great of a leader I am." I nod my head quietly. As he finishes reminding me of my assignment, someone comes over and hooks us up to wireless microphones. My father's goes on first, and then mine. As my microphone is being hooked up, a man with a large camera quickly walks past us to get into his position.

Once connected, my father gives me one last look before I see the curtain rise and the spotlight focus on my father. I see the chair in the center of the stage. The audience erupts in applause as my father waves and smiles to them all. I see Mr. Pierce in the front row, eyes trained on my father as he talks.

"Thank you, thank you all for attending tonight. I am here to promise you that tonight you will witness history being made. Tonight is the night that Hydra prevails. But without further ado, I am here to introduce the one who made this night possible. Please welcome my daughter, Adalyn Averina to the stage." My father gives a slight bow as he exits stage. He gives me a nod and I walk out.

The lights are blindingly bright and hot. I hear applause as I walk to stand beside the chair. I wave and smile to the crowd as their cheers die down. I lick my lips and begin the speech I've spent a week memorizing to perfection.

"Thank you. Yes, as my father said, tonight you will have the privilege and honor to witness history being made. My father and I have managed to take something with great potential, but was deeply flawed, and make it into something perfect. Gone are the old days of Hydra has-beens, and here are the days of prosperity, under my father." I pause and look into the crowd.

"What you will see here tonight is only the beginning. The success of this project is going to be phenomenal, something nobody has ever seen before. And yes, this asset will be available to all of you. My father so graciously wanted to bless his people with this, and worked tirelessly to ensure it got done. I thank you all once more for your attendance and support of Hydra. Hail Hydra." I say, and the audience responds.

I step to the right side of the stage where the cryogenesis chamber has been placed and beckon for the agents to wheel it to me. I place my hand on the cool metal,

"This is a cryogenesis chamber, and one that houses the asset. While this technology is old, we have made it into something new. The asset is contained in here, unless working on contract missions. Tonight, you all will see the emergence of the new Winter Soldier." I say and see some people in the crowd lean forward in their seats.

I open the chamber and guide the Soldier to the chair. I see him squint in the bright light, his arm begins adjusting quickly. I know he's confused and scared. My father insisted the audience see the whole process, instead of staging a fake programming like I had suggested earlier. I sit the Soldier in the seat and strap his wrists to the chair, a gimmick my father wanted to have to show people how dangerous he is.

I reach up and quickly turn off my microphone. I act like I am adjusting something on the chair, but I lean in close to the man and whisper into his ear something I can only hope brings him a little bit of comfort,

"I am so sorry." I turn my microphone back on and meet the man's eyes for a split second. They're wide and full of terror. I want nothing more than to run out of this base with him, give him a second chance. I quickly suppress my emotions and walk to the computer stationed behind the chair. All focus is supposed to be on him.

"We will now begin the activation process. Please do not be alarmed." I say as I boot up the program. The headpiece on the chair comes down and quickly begins sending electricity into the man's brain, scrambling it, implementing the program I crafted. The man begins screaming and grasping the arms of the chair.

I close my eyes and will myself not to cry on stage. If I do, I'm not sure my father will be able to forgive that. The screams go on for two minutes straight, each one breaking my heart all over again. As the screaming ceases, I know there's more to be done. I grab the red leather book and prepare myself.

"I will now finalize the process." I say and walk to stand in front of the man. I stand slightly to the side so the audience can still see. Quietly, I undo the restraints on his wrist and open the cover of the book. In my native tongue, I begin speaking,

"Longing."

"Rusted."

"Furnace." I notice that as I say the words, the man's mechanical arm begins adjusting. I keep an eye on him as I continue the process. My palms are sweating immensely from the nerves.

"Daybreak."

"Seventeen."

"Nine." The man's breathing becomes more labored. His chest rises and falls dramatically, and he blinks his eyes rapidly.

"Homecoming."

"One."

"Freight car." I shut the cover of the book dramatically, showing the audience that it's completed.

"Soldier?" I ask. The man's head hangs, his chin near his chest.

"Ready to comply." He responds and looks straight into the crowd without an ounce of emotion on his face. It worked.

Audience members begin rising from their seats and applaud, some whistling loudly in celebration. I'm glad they have something to celebrate, I'm mourning the loss of an innocent man's free will. I smile into the crowd and bow.

"Thank you all very much for attending tonight. I surely hope we met your expectations. Please, if you have any inquiries, get into contact with my father. Hail Hydra." They all reply and I walk in front of the broken man in the chair to undo the restraints on his wrists. Then, I beckon the Soldier to follow me off stage.

I feel the man behind me as we walk off stage. Dozens of people backstage congratulate me and I thank them all, not meaning any of it. I take my microphone off and hand it to an agent standing around. We make our way through the crowd, knowing I have to get the two of us back to his room to meet with Mr. Pierce.

Dane steps in front of us, blocking my path and putting a hand on my shoulder. He has a sinister grin on his face. However, that grin is quickly wiped off his face as the Soldier grabs Dane's hand with his metal one and rips it off my shoulder. Dane cries out in pain but quickly cover it up with a laugh.

"Oh, I like him." His voice is laden with ill intentions. I ignore him for now, having a bigger issue to worry about.

After making our way through the crowd, the Soldier and I go back to his quarters. I open the door and see Mr. Pierce sitting down with my father. Mr. Pierce smiles as we walk into the room. I don't fear him much, seeing as how the Soldier will protect me.

I sit down across from Mr. Pierce, the Soldier stands beside me. I place the red book right in front of me and my father smiles as he rises from his seat.

"My daughter will be more than delighted to take care of your needs Mr. Pierce. I look forward to working with you." He walks out of the room, probably to go mingle and set up business with other attendees. I smile softly at the man as he starts talking. All I know is that I'm supposed to set up a contract with him.

"Must I say that was quite the presentation. And here he is, right in front of me." The man looks amazed to see the Soldier in front of him. The Soldier stares at him with piercing blue eyes.

"Thank you, now what can we do for you?" I accept his compliment and lace my fingers together. The man licks his lips and I can tell he's getting down to business.

"I have an obstacle that I need removed and I think that your asset's capabilities are just what I am looking for." I nod, reading between the lines. This is a murder for hire.

"Of course, Mr. Pierce. I understand you reached an agreement with my father regarding price?" I know my father is just worried about the money and I want to be sure they struck a deal.

"Yes, we have." He says and I decide to take it a step further, just because I don't like him.

"I'll take your word for it. Understand that if I find out that isn't the truth, you will be the obstacle that needs removing." I say in a sweet voice. The man clears his throat and shifts in his seat. After a moment, I lean back and smile,

"Now that we are all on the same page, let's work out the finer details." I say and we get down to business. I get the subject's name, location, appearance, and known family members. We reach an agreed upon date, and Mr. Pierce signs the contract. I escort Mr. Pierce back to the rest of the crowd, and know it's time to put the Soldier up.

I walk back to the room and rearrange the furniture so that the chair can be brought back from the stage. The cryogenesis chamber was already brought back right after the programming was commenced.

I gently lead him back to the chamber and make sure he gets in without complication. I sigh, not knowing what I can say to him. I swallow the lump in my throat,

"I am so so sorry for what I've done to you." I say and lean up, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. I close the chamber and initiate the sequence, making sure he's under before I walk away. I would go out and mingle with the crowd, but I'm far too tired and in too much distress to do so.

I wait in the room for what seems like hours. The crowd should have all left by now, I can't imagine my father would want people roaming around base for too long. I grab the book off the desk before I quietly leave the room and make my way to my own. As I walk down the cold and empty hall, I hear hushed talking around the corner. I walk on my tiptoes to hide the sound of my walking and lean against the wall to listen in.

I realize the voices are from my father and Dane. What could they possibly be talking about? I intensely listen, hoping it's nothing about my performance tonight.

"We already got one contract paid for and at least ten more in line. We made forty million tonight alone. But I worry that we could have made more if it weren't for her." I hear my father say. What can he mean by that?

"I told you, Mr. Averina. Have her marry me, she can still do the scientific part in the background, but I'll take over all publicity. Think about it. Two of the most powerful Hydra agents wed to one another. The power will be all yours, people will see your dynasty in all its glory, you will be unstoppable. Plus, I did bring in some generous new clients." Dane speaks. I feel like I could throw up, there's no way my father would fall for a plan as bogus as that.

"I think you may be right. However, I can't help but think that maybe we should send her to the Sokovian base. I mean, the others in her field are there." Sokovian base? I've never heard of it.

"Mr. Averina, do you really want people to know about that? If people want contracts they'll want to see the asset. We can't risk people seeing what's going on there." I feel my heart sink to my stomach. What else could possibly be worse than what's going on here? Not only that, but why is my father listening to Dane? I hear my father sigh,

"You're right. I will tell her about the agreement." I hold my breath as I hear their conversation come to an end. Hopefully neither of them walk this way. My lungs burn as I watch Dane walk down the opposite end of the hallway, avoiding me.

I let go of the breath I was holding and quickly make my way into my room. I feel a fire in my veins, how could my father pawn me off like that? Does he seriously think that Dane is acting in his best interest? How does any of that plan make any sense? It doesn't. Somehow Dane has managed to manipulate my father into believing every word that comes out of his mouth.

I close and lock my door as I reach my room. I feel a rush of emotions come over me as I take in what all has happened. I ruined a man and I was pawned off to another. I let the warm tears roll over my cheeks and I let myself sob on the hard floor for as long as I need to.

Eventually, I get up and sit in my old, run down chair. I open the red leather book and flip to the back pages. I made Zola's old notebook my own, it just seemed more efficient to keep the notes all in one place. I hold a pencil in my hand, but can't seem to find the words that will bring justice to what I feel.

I sit in the chair until I hear guards changing post in the hall. It must be morning already. I look back down at the empty page and just start writing what I feel. Maybe that will ease some of the burden. I write how I wish it would be my life over his. I wish I would have had the courage to take my own life instead of the innocent man's. If I hadn't created this, then maybe nobody would have to suffer this severely.

[yukyunotabibito]

A strange commission has arrived at the Officers Academy: The Duke of a lesser house in Adrestia has recently unearthed a family heirloom believed to have disappeared along with his great-grandfather shortly before their family fell into disgrace, and he desires a handful of “Reason-gifted individuals” to assist him. Although the details were vague, you accept the commission nonetheless and arrive at his home where he welcomes you cordially. You notice that he is much younger than you anticipated, and quite beautiful. The family heirloom, he explains to you, is some sort of alchemical recipe for a potion that can transform one’s visage into the epitome of beauty. Well, that explains his appearance. He wants your help adjusting and testing its recipe, while he devises a way to market it to the masses. However, that night as you’re returning to your room, you catch sight of the Duke’s shadow from his room, writhing in pain. You glimpse the twisted figure of a monster before the door slams shut and glass shatters behind it. Yet, by morning, everything appears normal again, the Duke included. Will you stay to uncover the mystery? Or will you find a way to get out of the commission you volunteered for?

Nasir could have even be blamed for wandering around in the dark of the night before. If the Duke did not want them to wander, then perhaps he should have shut and locked all of the doors within the manor and barred them from entry. Sharp grey eyes had scanned every corner as quiet feet plod gently against the floor on the way back to their quarters.

And then, in the dark, a shadow had erupted against the wall of a nearby room, heaving against the light. There had been a door slamming, and the sound of glass.

Then...

Nothing.

"And that's when I decided it was best not to pry, for your sake, Lord Gévaudan. I am a man who greatly values my own privacy, and as such, the privacy of others. You seem to not be injured in any fashion, so I think it is best that we leave." Nasir casts a glance at their companion, an upbeat girl who was a friend of Kurthnaga's. Though... they had a feeling that she was going to much less willing to leave than they were.

"No, no, please stay. I insist. There is not need for you to go just because you saw something a little strange at such a late time. It must have just been a trick of the light! Please I need you to stay!" Duke Gévaudan seemed desperate for them to stay, too desperate in fact.

Nasir did not like where this was going, "And I beg of you to allow us to leave. I get the feeling we are only going to end up seeing things that you do not wish us to see if we stay any longer. I would like to let you have the entitlement of keeping some of your secrets, my lord."

There was something suspicious going on here, and Nasir was privy enough to dark secrets that a bad feeling started to bubble up in their chest. They tug the young girl closer to them, so they are able to whisper in her ear. Just barely loud enough for her to hear, but certainly not the duke. How odd though... to be on the recieving end of - what seemed to be - a scheme for once.

"You will listen to whatever I tell you to do, alright? That man is hiding something dangerous, and I don't know what, but we cannot stay here. We may both meet our ends if we do."

@aglaean

If The Duke Wants to Transform Into a Monster, I Think That's His Business

Recovery | The Duke's Comission

[jane-gunson123]

Met His Match

In which John Shelby meets his match in the form of a pretty, bold, resilient northern gangster.

Disclaimer: This is set in 1919, just after ww1 and John hasn’t married Esme but he does have his 4 kids still.

requested by @wildheartsalwaysburn

John Shelby masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

Main masterlist 

John’s morning had been somewhat mundane, nothing out of the ordinary, his kids arguing, Tommy stressing at the betting den but about noon that had changed. Tommy had word of a rival gang from up north sniffing around Birmingham, looking to take over the race tracks. 

Tommy had given him and address and a name and sent him on his way, 39 Armory Road, Mr. O’Callahan. That should be easy right, at least John hoped it would be.

The house he arrived at was no different to his home on Watery Lane, that surprised him. He of course had walked passed this house from being 5 aloud to roam the streets, so he knew what the house looked like but h would of thought a rival gang with money would of chosen a nicer head quarters.

He had heard of the O'Callaghan's from his earlier years. They were a family of gypsies who had risen in power to the top. They were exactly like his family apart from no one had ever seen the Mr O'Callaghan himself and lived to tell the tale at least. 

John has met his 3 brothers when he was younger but there was a forth and it was the fourth who was in charge. 

Knocking on the door and waiting for an answer was probably the most nerve racking thing he had ever done.

“Yes?” A young woman, no older than 21 answered the door. John was star struck, that was not who he had expected to answer the door. He auburn hair flowed gracefully in the breeze as her dress clung to her figure in all the right places.

“What's the matter, Dukes not bit one of yours has he?” The emotion in her eyes was fathoms deep, yet they carried the warmth and life of the sunlit surface. They had a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel radiating in softly swooping arcs.  

“No, no,” John stutted, this woman was making him question if he had nocked on the wrong house, “I’m looking for a Mr O’Callaghan, love” 

“You better come in then,” The woman sighed. 

John was quick to follow behind the woman into her kitchen. “So is he in?” 

“I’m assuming your not after Carl or one of the other two, you want him don’t you?” She didn’t sound upset, more intreeged and it was like she was riddiculing him. 

“Yeah, we need to talk.” John answered, “Whats yout name, love?”

“Ruth,” she answered smirking.

“Mam,” A little boy, who John assumed was Duke ran into the house through the back door, his dirty bloned hair messy while his bright blue eyes caught a glimpes at John.

“Yes, Duke.” Ruth asked, picking up the boy to cuddle him in.

“i’m tried and who’s that ugly thing?” Duke said pointing at John.

“hey, thats rude appoliges.” Ruth snapped, putting the boy down passing him a cup with jucie in and a blanket from over the back of the chair, “Go to the sofa and lie down, I’ll be through in a mintue.”

“Okay and sorry,” The boy whispered to John, he was no older than 5 but clear a hand full like most gypys kids he had seen, his were the same.

“I’m sorry about him, buts he right, who are you?” Ruth asked.

“John Shelby.” 

“Ah, so your the infumase peaky blinder, everyone keeps takin about. I dont see the obsession, your not all that.” Ruth said, sitting back down at the table.

Never in john Shelbys life had he ever been so insulted by a mother and child in the space of 5 minutes.

“Rude.” John mutted lowly.

“what, do you want me to apoligies?”  Okay, now she was deffintly riddiculing him.

“What have you got to do with Mr O’Callaghan?” John asked.

Never had he seen a woman laugh more at a serious question. “I am Mr O’Callaghan, darlin’” Her geordie accent was strong and John was suppriesed he could understand her half the time.

“Your the mysterious gangster that controls most of England.” John marvelled.

“You say it likes its hard.” Ruth said, she was relaxed, very relaxed.

“So its you behind the Callaghan Mob, a woman, no rich man.” John was uterly speakless.

“Honey, I am the rich man.” Ruth answered, “John, you have been a while, what exsactily do you want? And be careful what come out of your mouth next, because if you remember I am a ruthless gangster.”

“To talk, we have had word about you wanting to take over the race trackets south of Manchester.”John was calm but in reality he was shitting himself and Ruth could easily see through his facade.

“I have no intensions of taking over race tracks, I can assure you, John. It would be pointless and its not what my boys do.” Ruth paused, poping her head into the living room to check on her son before continguing, “I have a much better propersition for the peaky blinders but I feel like im taking to the wrong brother.”

“Possibly, what you thinking love?”

“The Peaky Blinders re an up and coming gang and a powerful one at that, but you are not going to get to the top by petty street crimes and fighting men who think they are something like Billy fucken Kimber. So what I prepose is we team up. I’m looking to expand, I already control from the scottish boarder to Nottingham but me, my brothers and main cousins are already very streached out, I have someone who controls Scotland under me and some for Walses as well as Luton to the end of the counrty. This is where you come in, I need a gang to tak eover from Nottingham to Luton before I go to ireland to eventully concquere there. So what do you say, me and my connectiongs help you control 1/4 of England in the next 3 years aswell as every race coures on my side of the treaty aswell as your own. All we want is 50% of your profits for the first 3 years then 25% every year after, but I hav e to warn you, double cross me and i will make sure that not one of your family is left.”

“I’ll tell Tommy your preposion and he will be in touch.” John answered, taking in all of the information he had just recieved.

“I hope to see you soon, and if everything work out will be parterns in running the UK’s underworld very soon.

Ruth had to be the one woman that had made John speachless. She was truly an enigma and he was weirdly draw to her. 

John Shelby had finaly met his match.

[phykios]

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

1)

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12). 

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog. 

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation. 

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.”��

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut. 

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door. 

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass. 

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other. 

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.” 

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets. 

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…” 

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks. 

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.” 

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up. 

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…” 

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements. 

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.” 

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.” 

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?” 

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun. 

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.” 

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.” 

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response. 

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?” 

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.” 

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper. 

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise. 

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!” 

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” 

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release. 

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all. 

2)

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene. 

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says. 

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…” 

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea. 

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?” 

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--” 

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much. 

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.” 

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit. 

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses. 

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles. 

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door. 

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen. 

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

3)

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom. 

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street. 

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing. 

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things. 

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.” 

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else? 

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Who are you working with?” 

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question. 

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?” 

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand. 

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks. 

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.” 

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile. 

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice. 

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…” 

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared. 

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear. 

Annabeth, behind him, coughs. 

“S-sure. No problem.” 

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him. 

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend? 

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice. 

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far. 

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?” 

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps. 

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly. 

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…” 

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?” 

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps. 

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock. 

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before. 

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his. 

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could. 

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.” 

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.  

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today. 

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor. 

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit. 

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision. 

4) 

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…” 

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.” 

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him. 

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together. 

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together. 

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all. 

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time. 

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him? 

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode. 

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes. 

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust. 

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner. 

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. 

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks. 

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops. 

He squints at one of his doodles. 

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar. 

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books. 

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response. 

Percy approaches the table. 

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra. 

Percy picks up the book, squinting. 

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself. 

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares. 

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look. 

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?” 

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness. 

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch! 

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth. 

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?” 

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance. 

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes. 

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

5)

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?” 

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes. 

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask? 

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.” 

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says. 

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.” 

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.” 

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head. 

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21. 

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music? 

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth. 

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly. 

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill. 

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it. 

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…” 

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

+1

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake. 

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window. 

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos. 

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.” 

Jamie looks up. 

There’s a four year old staring at her. 

“Hi,” Jamie says. 

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks. 

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her. 

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.” 

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.” 

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit. 

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him. 

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin. 

She really should have just stuck with German instead. 

[gliphyartfan]

@yandere-linked-universe @stars-for-thought @linked-heroes @ice-cream-writes-stuff

@imprisioned-in-the-hole I loved your prompt and couldn't resist! Hope I did it justice!

Wind has a strong presence in this one, that wasn't planned by the way.

Enjoy!

'I'll be fiine guys.'

She totally should have saw this coming.

'This is Wars' era, wandering the market won't that bad.'

Yep— these past few days had been too damn calm for the all of them,

'I'll be gone for an hour! Two hours tops! Promise!'

Of course something like this was going to go and happen.

'This. fucking. sucks!' She grunted, slowly slide down the rope she made out of the sheets in the room she was trapped in.

This is what happens when you jinx yourself.

'Everything will be fine!' Oh suuure, the first hour was delightful.

Saw some items,

Chatted with some folks,

Even got to pet a few dogs!

But the second hour-

'His Grace wishes to discuss some things with you.'

'Sorry, you got the wrong person. Plus I don't feel comfortable with-'

'That wasn't a request.'

'...-!!'

She should have know there would have been someone behind her.

It's always when it's out of your mind that it happens.

And now she was trying to escape her own wedding. And the crazy Duke that wanted to marry her.

She wasn't a hero damnit!

'I'm gonna get lectured so badly after this!' She grunted as she reached the end of the rope, her feet dangling in the air for a moment as she tried to figure out what to do next.

'Damn you laws of physics and gravity!' She whispered to herself.

Physics and gravity decided to take her insult personally as the rope loosened its hold on the railing, causing her to fall into the bushes two feet below her.

'Urk-branch! Branch!' She hissed in pain, reaching underneath and removing the branch poking at her back.

As she rubbed the area, brushing the crumpled sheet from her head, she checked her hand to make sure she wasn't bleeding.

Before she could plan her next move, she stilled as she heard the heavy thuds and clanks of armour approach nearby.

The movement came closer, she used her place in the bushes to keep hidden. Slowly parting the leaves next to her with one hand, she used what visibility she had to discover that yes, it was a pair of guards and the conversation that flowed through the air confirmed they weren't Hyrule guards.

Drat.

'Is the Duke really gonna marry that girl?'

'Seems to be the case. He's been very pleased with himself too. Looks like he's trying to get the wedding done by tonight.'

Double drat.

'I don't blame him, you've seen that girl? Bet he's eager for the wedding night.'

Okay. NO.

'Haha! A beauty like that for a wife would be quite the status boost.'

The guards walked past the bush and it's hidden occupant.

Had they looked back, they would have seen a displeased glare directed their way.

(y/n) huffed and looked around, trying to remember where the exit was.

With another glance around, she picked up her dress and slowly made her way out of the bushes, pausing momentarily before taking off the heels she was forced to wear

'I can't run and climb in this dress.' Trying to think about what to do next, she looked down at her clothes.

'Hmm...'

--

'WHERE IS SHE.'

'Link please-'

'Don't tell me to calm down Zelda!'

Wind bit his lip as Warriors marched up to the princess' face and growled.

'Impa is having her men search the castle and surrounding areas, we will find her.' Zelda tried to reassure him, taking a step back when he glared.

'It's been a WEEK and you have nothing to show for it!' He ran a head through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm down.

'You know I've been busy with-'

'With the Grand Duke of the farther kingdom who is here as a token of peace and unity between kingdoms.' Warriors recited irritably. 'Yes, very understandably important when someone went missing under the watch of YOUR men.'

'She was last seen in the market, we have blocked the gates and are inspecting every individual leaving the city.' Zelda gave Warriors a look.

'And might I remind you that they are also your men?'

'Apparently not anymore with how you let them slacked off!'

'Excuse me-'

Wind sighed as they started arguing again.

They were getting nowhere.

'This is going nowhere.' Wind turned and saw Hyrule coming up next to him, watching the arguing duo.

'Any luck with the others?' He asked quietly, not surprised when Hyrule shook his head.

'Twilight is using Wolfie to catch any scents but the storm has made that difficult. Time is with Legend and Wild speaking to the merchants and Four is with Sky speaking with the guards.' Hyrule replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Wind felt the same way.

None of them were able to sleep well since she went missing. The only reason they slept at all was because they needed to be rested enough in the event a fight comes their way.

But the lack of her presence was deeply felt.

'Any luck here?' Hyrule asked hollowly, already knowing the answer but still asking.

Wind simply gestured to the still arguing duo.

'Is she even still in town?' He couldn't help but ask, not wanting to think of the possibility that she was far away, but it was necessary.

'She has to be,' Hyrule reassured,smiling weakly. 'The town went on lockdown almost immediately.'

Wind returned Hyrule's smile with a weak one of his own.

They turned back to the duo, feeling more tired as they listened to the princess justify her duties.

'I am already dealing with the Grand Duke and I can't give anymore of my attention to this than I already have.' Warriors just gave her a look.

'I wouldn't be bothering so much if you allowed me access to his guest quarters.' It was Zelda's turn to glare at him.

'You know I cannot do that, he is a guest and has nothing to do with her disappearance.' Only Wind and Hyrule noticed the way Warriors hand twitched, as if desiring to reach for his sword.

Not that they could blame him.

'I am not accusing him Princess,' he said through gritted teeth. 'I am merely requesting-'

'That I allow you access to his quarters.' The displeased expression on the princess' face only matched the captain's.

'Annnd they're arguing again.' Wind muttered, watching them fall back into another verbal brawl.

'The only place we haven't looked is the guest wing.' Hyrule whispered, wringing his hands.

'You think we should sneak in?' Hyrule looked at the arguing pair and nodded.

'Yeah...it's better than assuming nothing is there.'

'Alright...Wars!' The angered captain looked at them, a scowl on his face.

'Rulie thinks he has a lead at the market so I'm heading out with him.' Wind kept a casual look on his face, staring Warriors in the eyes.

Warriors was quiet for a brief moment before he grunted and turned back to arguing his case with the princess.

But he was less tense than he was a moment before.

He understood what they were going to do.

'He'll keep her distracted.' Wind murmured, tugging Hyrule out of the room.

'And Impa?' Wind sighed and rubbed his shoulder.

'Still searching the market place I bet, we gotta be quick.'

And with that, they both headed to the guest wing of the castle.

---

The guest wing wasn't too far away, probably for the convenience of whatever foreign guests came to visit.

But it was walled off and the Grand Duke's personal guard was patrolling the area, forcing the duo to sneak their way in.

'I really hope we find something.' Hyrule whispers, the two stilling as a guard passed by their hiding place.

'Best place to look is the most obvious place.' Wind reassured. 'And the most obvious place is a area that's being guarded by enemy guards.'

Hyrule didn't correct him about the guards.

If she was here, they were enemies.

'Let's look through the rooms! Top or bottom floor?' Hyrule hummed.

'We're good at escaping from higher levels, and there's only two floors, let's start low and move up.'

They worked together, both alerting the other when a guard was close.

Soon they snuck passed the majority and reached the first set of rooms.

Then the second set.

Then the third.

They moved up to the second floor and quietly searched through each room.

It was in the Grand Duke's room that they found incriminating evidence on his desk.

'I can't read this language,' Wind whispered harshly as he glared at the papers in front of him. ' but I know (y/n)'s name anywhere!'

'Take it, we can sure it to the princess.' Hyrule whispered back, keeping watch at the door. He tensed when he saw a couple of guards round the corner. 'We need to go!'

'This is the last room and we haven't found her!'

'We found evidence and that's a better than what we had before, now move!'

It took some time to shuffle out the window and climb down, but they were successfully able to make their escape from the guest wing without notice.

'A lead, that's good.' Wind gasped, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

'But still no (y/n)' Hyrule bite his thumb nervously. 'I hope she's okay...'

'We can't lose hope!' Wind grunted, stretching his back and sighing.

'Let's go, we need to show these papers to the others before we give it to the princess-'

The sailor went rigid, eyes snapping forward, widening.

'What's wrong Wind?' Hyrule asked worriedly, hand on the younger teen's shoulder.

The teen bit his lip to keep his expression from crumbling and his breath was shaky,

'(y/n)...?' Hyrule's own eyes widened and his head snapped to look when Wind was staring.

There, in a torn dirty white dress, no shoes, and messy hair, was their beloved goddess looking around, visibly distressed.

'(y/n)..?' Wind raised his voice, hope as visible in his tone as it was in his eyes.

Hyrule's heart felt such relief as their beautiful goddess' head snapped in their direction.

The smile she gave them was simply magnificent as she immediately ran toward them.

The moment she was close, she wrapped her arms around the both of them and began to cry, relief filling her.

'You have no idea how happy I am to see you two!' She hugged them closer.

'WE'RE happy to see you!' Wind sighed happily, resting his head in her shoulder, both him and Hyrule hugging her as tightly as she was hugging them.

Just having her in their arms was a blessing they treasured so much.

'Where have you been? How did you escape?' She sighed and shook her head.

'I'd rather tell it one time.' She looked around.

'Please tell me the others are near by?' She whispered, absolutely exhausted and didn't want to deal with any more drama.

'Well...no. They are looking for you in town. We snuck into the guest wing to look for you.' Hyrule answered apologetically, heart clenching when she sniffled.

Wind frowned for a moment before he gasped in excitement.

'I'll rally them up!' Hyrule and (y/n) looked at him in confusion as he reached into his pouch.

'Wild has the slate! And if he has the slate-' he pulls out what he was searching for.

'Then we can reach him with this!' (y/n) tilted her head.

'A...stone?' Wind grinned at them, the pirate's charm dangling from his fingers.

'A COMMUNICATION stone!' (y/n) gasped in delight and gave Wind another hug.

'Call him! Call him!' Wind laughed and activated the stone.

'Um, I've been meaning to ask...' Hyrule quietly said to (y/n) who looked at him innocently. '...About your..outfit...'

Wind ignored them for a brief moment as Wild's tired voice came from the pirate's charm.

'What is it sailor?'

'Guess who me and Hyrule found!' Wind grinned as he heard gasps.

'You found her?! Is she safe?!'

'They found her?!'

'She's okay! We're by the-'

'HE WANTS TO MARRY YOU?!'

Wind turned his head so fast, he winced at the pop he felt, the loud yells coming from his charm filling the air.

'WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?!!' (y/n) winced as she realized the panic she just caused

'Uh-'

He couldn't help it, Wind laughed, soft and just a little hysterical.

Of course an insect had to pop up when they let their guard down.

---

'Where is she.'

'Sir, we have our men searching for her this very moment.'

'I want her found by TONIGHT, the wedding will go as planned.'

'Of course sir!' The Grand Duke scowled as his guard walked off.

He is so close to raising his status.just another day and he would have been on top of the social world. He sneered, like a child, storming down the halls of the guest wing.

'Should have simply left with her when I had the chance.' He ran a gloved hand down his face.

To think he had one of the heroes of legend in his grasp only for her to have slipped through his fingers.

He'll have to make sure to teach her a lesson.

'Sir!' He sighed irritably, turning to see another one of his guard approaching him.

'What is it? Did you find her?' The guard looked nervous.

'Sir, Princess Zelda is requesting your presence in the throne room at once.' The Grand Duke tensed and stared at the guard.

'Are you sure?' The guardsman nodded, stepping back when the Duke growled.

'Of all the times...' He looked back at the guardsman. 'Continue looking for the girl.'

After the guardsman nodded, he decided to get it over with and headed to the throne rooms.

--

--

'Grand Duke, thank you for coming at such a short notice.'

'Your Highness.' The Grand Duke bowed to her, as he rose he noticed the nine gentlemen standing to either side of her.

The heroes of legend.

The Grand Dukes greed brought to mind the rise in his status at what might be a possible meeting with the legendary nine.

He was to arrogant to realize the cold looks he was receiving from them.

She smiled, nodding in greeting. 'I apologize for disturbing your day Grand Duke, I understand how frustrating it can be, but I heard of a strange rumor recently and I had hoped you would clarify it for me?'

'Please rest assured Princess, I will do all that I can to assist you.' He said, smiling openly, the perfect gentleman.

'Splendid. Now,' She dropped the smile. 'Did you conspire to abduct the heroes' companion and force her to wed you?'

The Grand Duke froze, paling as the question registered in his head.

'Wha-'

'Ah. Before I continue, allow me to properly introduce the gentleman before me-'

'There is no need your Highness,' calmly interrupted Time, coldly gazing down at the nervous Nobleman. 'He is as aware of our identities as we are aware of his.'

'I-'

'And you seem to be very aware of the identity of our most dearest companion.' Legend hissed from his place next to Time, glaring daggers at the unsettled man.

The Grand Duke's expression twisted into fear, anger, and panic.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he cleared his throat. 'I'm sure I don't know what you're speaking of.' He calmly answered.

'Perhaps a misunde-'

' A misunderstanding? I'm sure.' Warriors scoffed, looking at Zelda with a raised eyebrow.

She sighed "Lets not fool ourselves here, we all know what this is about.' She stared sternly at him. 'You abducted the young woman known as (y/n) and were conspiring to wed her for...status?'

'She isn't very happy about being kidnapped.' Wild said casually, as if he was not wishing he could jam a bomb down the Grand Duke's throat and detonate it.

It seemed the arrogant man could barely handle being talked down in such a way. His clenched fists trembled in anger.

'I will not allow such accusations to be made against my person!' He looked at Zelda, face flushed in anger.

'If you believe that our kingdoms will be allied after this, I assure you that-'

'If your kingdom is full of noblemen like you, than Hyrule would benefit by NOT allying with you.' Warriors interjected, ignoring Zelda's stern look towards him, looking down his nose at him.

'You have no proof!' Warriors sighed and nodded.

'I suppose I don't.' He was silent until the Duke looked smug before he matched his expression with one of his own, pointing behind the Duke.

'But she's proof enough.'

'Oh, so I'm demoted to proof now, am I?'

The Duke went rigid, his mouth snapping shut on the words just spoken as he slowly turned his head-.

An dispassionate look directed right at him.

'Apologies my Angel.' Warriors smiled softly at her. 'No insult meant.'

'Hmm.' She raised an eyebrow, a brief glance at Warriors before looking at the Grand Duke.

'(y/n) I ask for complete honesty.' Zelda commands. 'Was the Grand Duke the man behind your abduction with intention to force you to wed him?' (y/n) nodded.

'Yes your Highness.' Zelda closed her eyes and sighed.

'Very well, I will arrange for his departure tonight.' The Grand Duke's face a unique combination of red and enraged yet also paling.

'T-This will not stand! When my king hears of this-.'

'We have already sent your king the information of your crimes.' The princess proclaimed to the unsteady nobleman.

'Y-you-'

'You are no longer welcomed within the borders of Hyrule Kingdom and are henceforth outlawed from ever returning. Impa shall escort you to the guest wing to retrieve your belongings.'

Zelda then turned and strode away, but not before sending an apologetic glance at Warriors.

He simply returned her look with a blank one.

(y/n) walked passed the royal knights that now surrounded Grand Duke and made her way to the group.

'I'm so glad you guys found me.' She said with relief in her voice.

'You ended up saving yourself dear.' Time chuckled, reaching up and cupping her cheek. 'And we were panicking like we lost our minds.'

'I was panicking when Wind and Hyrule popped up.' She admitted. 'Trust me, I was so happy and relieved to be found by you guys.'

'We'll always find you (y/n)!' Wind chirped, wrapping his arms around her waist, causing her to giggle.

'Well I guess it has it's uses.' She clapped her hands.

'I'm hungry and demand all the cuddles! I hated this week!' Wild was already pulling out his slate and looking through his inventory.

'I'll make a meal that'll taste so good, you'll forget this week ever happened!' (y/n) grinned in delight.

'That's what I want to hear!'

The Chain surround her as they guided her out of the throne room, the angry cries of the Grand Duke not worth notice.

Yet two members of the group lingered behind.

And they were eyeing the fuming nobleman with calculating eyes.

'We could have been a bit more...hands on with his punishment... ya know that don't you old man...?' Wind commented, his treasured wind waker in one hand.

'As enjoyable as it would be, I don't want to spend a moment longer away from Her.' Wind sighed but nodded in agreement , crossing his arms, tapping his wind waker against his chin.

'So the storm will kill him?' Time nodded, inspecting his Ocarina casually.

'I have more than enough magic to conjure one strong enough.'

'You've already had Wild damage parts of the ship correct?' Wind nodded. 'Than once I summon the storm, make sure the winds finish the job.'

Wind hummed. 'Kay.'

They both looked at the shrinking form of the dead man walking.

'Ugh, I hate bugs.' Wind huffed, a disgusted look on his face.

Time stared at the Duke until he could not see him no more.

'Hm..So do I...'

That night, the group of nine celebrated the return of their most beloved member, lavishing her with their affection and as she requested, all the cuddles she asked for.

(That night, reports were received by two kingdoms that notes a vicious storm appeared as the Grand Duke's ship sailed beyond the Hyrulian sea borders. Destroying the ship beyond recognition. There were no survivors.)

[stiltonbasket]

My kingdom for the Yunmeng culture/fix it fic where it's realised Jiang Fengmian cannot burn both ends of the candle doing double duty and someone sends for Wei Changse. Cause if we're breaking tradition with no Jiang-furen doing her bit we'll break tradition here too (argue concerned fellow sect members). Featuring smol WWX and Yu-furen having to deal with that jealousy issue of hers.

Jiang Fengmian doesn't know what he was thinking when he wrote that letter.

In fact, he doesn't know if he was thinking at all.

All he does know is that A-Li had a cough again last week, and he sat by her bedside all night because he still hasn't forgotten what ordinary colds did to her when she was just a little younger. He knows that he didn't sleep last night either, because he's been taking audiences for two or three days straight, and night-hunting on all of those days save for one.

In short he was exhausted, so much so that he could barely put one foot in front of another by morning, and at some point he must have written (or pleaded, rather, though who knew how it came across in ink and paper) to his ex-right hand, Wei Changze, and begged him to come home.

I can't do this, he thought: although hopefully, he didn't actually put that down in writing. Changze, please. Come back.

“You look terrible,” his friend frowns now. He rode into Lufeng out of nowhere this morning, astride a great black horse with Cangse and A-Ying clinging to his waist, and Jiang Fengmian was so surprised to see them all that he dropped his sword into a puddle. “A-Xiao, what have you been doing to yourself?”

“I’ve been wasting away because my brother-in-arms gets to run wild over the jianghu, while I have to stay here and be responsible,” Jiang Fengmian laughs. “Don’t worry about the letter, A-Li was sick and I was worried. How long will you and Cangse be staying?”

Liu Cangse stares down at him, her eyes flickering up and down his pathetic figure like a vulture scrutinizing a carcass.

“We’re back to stay,” she says at last, throwing out one careless arm to keep Wei Ying from falling off the horse. “Are Changze’s rooms still empty, or should we go find lodgings in town?”

Wei Changze’s rooms are still empty, but Jiang Fengmian added a desk and a few cabinets and turned it into a study to keep it from being repurposed after his friends’ wedding. He says as much to Cangse, who declares that a bed big enough for two and a basket to lay little A-Ying in is good enough for her.

“We sleep under the stars, most nights,” she tells him. “A-Xiao, even a roof over our heads is better than we usually have.”

“Then those quarters are yours,” Jiang Fengmian exhales, trying not to dread the confrontation ahead of him.

He dreads it all the same.

______

Yu Ziyuan is thirty-six years old, and she has never been as angry as she is at this very moment.

That woman is back.

Cangse Sanren, her husband’s first love. The only woman he has ever had feelings for, here to stay with Wei Changze.

Yu Ziyuan is so angry that she could draw her sword and challenge the wretch here and now. To think that Liu Cangse believed she could come slinking back here, years after she made it clear that she had no feelings for Jiang Fengmian--has she no womanly shame at all?!

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demands, when he passes her on the bridge between his study and the children’s lesson room. “Have you finally lost all shame, then? You’ve decided to bring her into the house, and make sheep’s eyes at her in person instead of pining after her?”

“She does not come or go at my command,” Jiang Fengmian replies. “I wrote to Wei Changze and asked him to come back, and of course his wife came with him.”

“You--”

“I am the master of Yunmeng Jiang. The deputies and retainers in this house are my concern, and no other’s,” he interrupts. “And the families they bring with them are no concern of mine, as long as they agree to abide by the sect laws. Excuse me, San-niang.”

He bustles off, vanishing around the corner with his head held high, and refuses to look back no matter how loudly she shouts at him.

If it were Liu Cangse--if she told him not to bring another woman into their home, then Fengmian would have listened to her.

Ziyuan grips a nearby post to steady herself, and blots her angry tears on a corner of her sleeve.

It will not do to look out of sorts before that woman. From what little Yu Ziyuan has seen since her return, living in the wild has taken none of Cangse Sanren's beauty; her face still glows like a lotus in full bloom, its radiance undimmed beneath her grey weimao, and Ziyuan could not hope to rival her even when she was at her handsomest.

For some reason, it occurs to her that while motherhood did diminish her once-famous good looks, Fengmian looks like an absolute death’s head compared to the man she married. 

He spent the last decade yearning for his faithless shidi’s wife, though he had a perfectly good wife of his own, and she is suddenly--spitefully--glad that his misery is all he has to show for it.

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

PART 1 🌸 PART 2

Namjoon Werewolf Au!! 

Pack Head Alpha Namjoon and mate OC!

Arranged marriage sort of?

Pack dynamics / strangers to lovers. 

Part 3

“You did not think to tell him no? To demand that you had every right to stay there?” Her mother in law looked disappointed ,  eyes trained on her as Jiah carefully pulled the blouse of the tunic down over her tummy, frowning when she realized that it didn’t do a thing for her figure.

She felt self conscious, the grey cotton of the tunic making her feel drab and lifeless. Why did she always choose clothes in colors like this? Why did none of them fit her right? Why did she never make an effort to look at least a little good. Her hair was limp, a mousy brown and while it was thick, it had no luster… Why didn’t she use one of the hundred powdered mixtures the village healer liked to give the younger women?

“Jiah, are you listening to me?” Namjoon’s mother said sharply and Jiah jumped a bit, guilty.

“I didn’t want to be a bother..”  She said nervously, not sure how to handle her mother in law. On the one hand she seemed to be understanding of her many hang ups, but she also looked impatient and upset, anytime Jiah failed to stand up for herself.

Lady Kim drew herself up to her impressive height and Jiah cowered. She’d hung around enough pack bonfires to recognize that stance and that gaze. The woman was about to give her a piece of her mind.

Sure enough, her voice thundered when she addressed her.

“If you keep viewing yourself as a bother, I’m not sure how others will begin seeing you as anything else. You’re the head alpha’s mate. Your place is by his side, helping him with the crown on his head. It’s not a choice. Your duties are not mine and I am tired of doing them for you.” She snapped.

It stung. Guilt churned and Jiah could feel the beginnings of one of her episodes. The ones that always left her shaking and breathless. Much to her surprise, Lady Kim’s gaze softened at that and the next second she was being drawn into a warm embrace.

“Good lord child, why are you so terrified? Has my family not been kind enough to take away this stark terror out of your veins?” She sighed deeply. “You must not let your fears dictate your life. I want you to live your life, pleasing the person you’re bound to .”

Jiah felt her shoulders sag. Please the person she was bound to.  Of course. Namjoon. It all came down to the alpha wolf. And how was she supposed to please him, if he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her?

“Yourself.” Lady Kim’s voice, laced with amusement made her jump.

Jiah frowned, pulling back to look at the older woman in confusion.

“You’re bound only to yourself , Jiah. You need to please yourself. To do and be the person you want to be. And then everything else will fall into place.”

Jiah watched as the woman went back to the door, calling for and directing a few more workers as they finished setting up the outer courtyard of her living quarters. Still a little chilled, she grabbed a thick coat from the small cupboard by the door, draping it over herself and tying it together with the sash. She moved quickly to the door, watching her mother in law talk to the workers, looking them straight in the eye , firm and clear in her instructions.

It was fascinating.

Lady Kim’s stance fairly vibrated with power and her voice brooked no disobedience. People looked at her and listened. They saw someone who knew what she was talking about and many a time, Jiah had felt it herself, the comfort of someone reliable. Someone who wished no ill on anyone.

Namjoon’s mother had lost her husband at a young age. Namjoon had scarcely been a babe of two when it had happened and the entire pack had expected the young wolf to lose his birthright as the heir. It was unheard of for a mate to take over the head alpha’s duties but Lady Kim had risen to the occasion with an elegance that had stunned everyone. The woman had met pack leaders and settled disputes, had negotiated boundary conflicts and made elaborate plans for new buildings , all while carrying around a babe that was still fed at her breast.

What was more, she had defended her position against the men who had wanted to usurp it. Mnhyuk and Jaejoon were two of her husband’s cousins, eager to sink their fangs into the woman to mate her, just to be able to get their hands on the pack. They were terrible men , even worse wolves. Their ideas on how the pack ought to be run dripping with archaic ideals and oppression of women.

But Lady Kim had humiliated them, told the whole pack in no uncertain terms that the next pack alpha would be Kim Namjoon. Her son would be raised to rule the pack with kindness and understanding and she would make sure of it.

The tales were told with hushed tones of disbelief and admiration and Jiah had listened to them with hunger and aching. Had felt such a huge surge of affection for the matron , had wanted to hug her and tell her she had done a great job.

And standing here as her daughter in law, she realized that she would be a fool not to listen to her. Not to learn from her. Especially when it was obvious that in the entire pack, the only one who didn’t seem to hold Kim Namjoon on a pedestal, was ironically his own mother.

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

“ They’re going to challenge you again. I can feel it.” Taehyung said gruffly, dropping the bundle of scrolls on the table and Namjoon flinched, head throbbing.

“That bad?” He asked hesitantly and Taehyung nodded.

“They want you to re-negotiate that treaty about courtesans owning property. Think it would make them quit the profession… if you let them own stuff” Seokjin said quietly and Namjoon bristled.

“They are no different from any of us. They work for their pay too. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to do what they wish with money that they’ve earned?” He demanded angrily.

“You’re a good man Namjoon. A fair one. And you’re striving to build a pack that treats all it members as equals . Obviously people who thrive on abusing their power aren’t going to like that. Especially Minhyuk and Jaejoon’s pups. Those two are terrible.”

“You should accept their challenge and just rip their throats out someday.” Taehyung said firmly AND Namjoon gave him a glare.

“I’m not going to shed blood without cause, Taehyung. Don’t suggest that. Even in passing.” He said firmly and the younger beta bowed politely in apology.

“Where is Jiah?” Seokjin asked casually.

Namjoon glanced at him, brows raised.

“Since when are you so familiar with my mate, hyung?”

Seokjin rolled his eyes.

“She used to come sit with me, when I watched over the herds on the outer pastures. Sweet little thing really. Very funny too.”

That made Namjoon pause.

“Funny?” He asked, completely confused.

“Witty. She would make these clever little riddles and jokes that would always leave me in stitches. We made a game of it. I would give her one of my funny jokes and she would give me a riddle. Is she feeling better now?”

Namjoon who was still kind of struck dumb by the idea of his cowering, reticent mate doing something as…. Normal and friendly as laughing and being witty….. could only stare at Seokjin in confusion.

“I…. Yes. She’s well. We’re expecting a pup.” He said softly.

Both Taehyung and Seokjin went still.

“What?!!! Why didn’t you say that first?!!” Taehyung exclaimed, offended.

“It’s not that important…” Namjoon waved it off, reaching for the scrolls , “ what about the treaties, then? You did tell Jungkook we aren’t changing anything right?”  

Seokjin scoffed.

“ Only you would say that these treaties are more important than your own pup.” He snapped.

Namjoon sighed a bit at that.

“I don’t mean that. I’m just saying, what she needs now is to rest and take care of herself and the baby. I’m not what she needs . I’ve arranged for her to stay in some private quarters with the other women.”

Seokjin sighed deeply. After years of being one of Namjoon’s trusted friends, he could feel his heart ache for the younger and all that he hid from the people around him. He reached out and gently placed a palm on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“ Namjoon, you don’t have to do all of this by yourself. Tae and I , we can take over duties a couple of days a week… You can relax… Maybe spend some time with your new wife….”

“She hates me.” Namjoon said softly. “ I spent a whole month trying to talk to her, all she did was tremble and shake. Even when we…” Namjoon exhaled sharply, “ Even in bed , she made me feel like I was some kind of…. Predator.”

Taehyung bit his lips, looking worried.

“You’re not… You’re not going to break the bond are you?” He asked nervously.

Namjoon sighed.

“I’m not. I may have considered it, before . But now… She’s with pup. I can’t do that to her. I don’t want to either.”

“Why did you pick her?”

Namjoon stayed quiet.

“Because you wanted a wife who wouldn’t ask or demand or complain.” Taehyung said distastefully.

“That’s not… You make it sound so terrible. I’m supposed to be taking over pack duties, supposed to renegotiate every single treaty we’ve drawn in the past twenty years, not to mention get the entire pack ready for the winter…. Of course I wanted a wife who would adjust. Have you seen the omegas in our clan? The ones I could court ? They want to leave on trips… They want to visit the neighbouring packs…. They want me to arrange festivities and feasts for every damn thing…. You think I can marry someone like that??” Namjoon snapped angrily. “none of them understand a damn thing about helping me out. They’re shallow and vain. Jiah… I chose her because she didn’t seem like one of them. She seemed like she could understand what it means to be my wife. But I was wrong. I thought she understood my responsibilities and was giving me my space…. Turns out she just thinks I’m some kind of monster she needs to run and hide from.”

Seokjin reached out, patting his back soothingly.

“Namjoon I understand… It’s been hard on you, and you’ve been doing all of it by yourself. Its bound to take a toll. And that’s why I think you should take a few days off, a week. Give us all the instructions. We’ll carry it all out. You can relax.”

“That’s exactly what my uncles want. For me to slack off. They’ll summon the council and want to challenge me again. I can’t afford it. “ Namjoon shook his head.” Not until the babe is born and my position as pack alpha is solidified. I can’t let them use this against me.”

Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged looks.

“Joon-ah….”

Namjoon gave both of them a tired smile.

“I’ll be fine hyung. It’s going to be okay.”  He said reassuringly. “ The council’s meeting tomorrow right? I’ll try to go over these tonight.”

“Its already past sundown.” Taehyung said worriedly.

“Then I better ask the maids to keep enough oil for the lamp to last.”

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

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon blinked, staring at her like she was out of her mind and Jiah flinched. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. But the sight of him made something curl in the pit of her stomach. He looked exhausted. Like he had been up all night. She wondered if perhaps she ought to retreat. Go back to the private quarters he’d arranged for her.

No. No , you will not chicken out of this.

“ You have a council meeting, this evening. Could I come with you?.” She said softly, watching his face carefully. She tried to read his emotions, tried to look for traces of irritation or anger but all she found was a sort of hopeless resignment. Like he had stopped trying to fight whatever was bringing him down.

“Come with me….?? ” Namjoon stared at her like he wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about.

She inhaled sharply.

“Your mother told me I could go. As your mate, I’m allowed to sit in on council meetings. She told me it’s a new provision. That you were the one who had it written in. So perhaps, you should… let me come with you.”

“My mother-“ He paused, sighing. “ You don’t have to do everything my mother asks you to.”

She blinked, the words throwing her off. The truth was, she had been the one, tailing the older woman all day, trying to see what she did and how she did it. Lady Kim had merely offered to help her do her duties. She had mentioned in passing, that for centuries , mates hadn’t been granted many rights of their own. Namjoon had spent the past couple of years making a lot of amendments to pack laws and the council hadn’t taken to kindly to all of them.

“ Of course. I just thought that, as I am your mate , perhaps I should accompany you. ” It was a miracle, the way her voice came out, steady . Not at all betraying the nervousness coursing through her veins.

“Jiah…. I’m not sure.” His voice dripped with hesitation and she flinched. Oh, well, no one could blame her for not trying.

“If you don’t want me there, that’s fine.” She said quickly.” I’ll go…”

She turned around, feeling her face burn red as she quickly descended the stairs to the courtyard.

“Jiah wait!!” His voice made her still.

She turned around swiftly.

“I didn’t mean to imply that I did not want you there. I just….Council meetings aren’t short. They tend to go on for hours. Will you be alright?” He asked gently, gaze dropping surreptitiously to her middle.  

It took her a minute to understand what he was even talking about.

“I… Oh.” She quickly pressed her palms to her stomach, confused. “ I mean… I may have to be excused a couple of times to relieve myself. I’ve been doing that way more often than usual.” She laughed.

Namjoon’s lips quirked in a hint of a smile and she flushed. Surely, her stern mate didn’t want to hear about her body functions? What was she even doing…

“But, yes. I wouldn’t mind sitting with you. Truly.” She said quickly.

Namjoon nodded.

“Well, then. You can come with me. It’s an hour before sundown… I’ll come fetch you myself.”

“Yes , alpha.” She said brightly, curtsying lightly and immediately feeling like a fool.

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

“They’re called red feathers …” The healer, a middle aged woman called Selma,  opened a small earthenware jar to show her the contents. Jiah peered into the jar, catching sight of a bundle of dried flowers and roots.

“These can help me…?” She asked dubiously and Selma gave a quiet chuckle.

“They help you sleep better and also help you relax. They’re good for you. You won’t feel this anxious if you take them regularly.” She said calmly.

“Oh… alright.” Jiah nodded, glancing carefully at her mother in law who was standing elsewhere, looking through an assortment of salves and tinctures. “ Can I…. is this safe for Namjoon?”

Lady Kim stilled, turning around to glance at her sharply and Jiah stiffened. God, her impulsive mouth. She wasn’t even sure why she said it. Just the whole , helps sleep better , had immediately reminded her of how tired Namjoon had looked.

“I’ve already tried to get him to drink some of it. He refuses.” Lady Kim said tiredly. “ He feels that it may affect his mental faculties”

“Auntie Selma?” A high, soft voice rang through the hut and Jiah glanced up. She went still, catching sight of Jisoo, dressed in red velvet and all of her ornate jewelry.

“Ah… Jisoo…you’re back.” Selma said cheerfully. “ How can I help you child?”

Jisoo stared at her, eyes steady and unreadable.

“I need some wild carrot seeds and ginger roots.” She said softly and Lady Kim scoffed.

“I hope the man you’re taking into your bed is not who I think it is , Jisoo.” She growled. The younger woman merely bowed.

“I’m but a courtesan, my lady. I go where I am asked to.” She said softly.

Lady Kim sighed.

“Then perhaps you should go back home. Now.” She said sharply and jisoo flushed and ugly red.

“Your son wants me to visit him for tea , this evening. I was hoping to meet my lovely lady there…but I hear you no longer stay in his hut.” Jisoo turned to her, tone dripping with acid and Jiah swallowed nervously.

“I… I’m…” She couldn’t quite talk, much less think of something to say.

“Because she is with child.” Lady Kim said sharply, a hint of triumph in her tone. “ Namjoon’s child.”

Jisoo had gone paper white, her face pale and bloodless.

“What?” She whispered.

“It’s true. She carries my son’s heir. You know what that means, Jisoo. It means they are bound, for life. I like you. I respect your courage and admire your talents. You are beautiful and you deserve a mate of your own. Do not pursue my son.” Lady Kim said firmly.

Jisoo didn’t respond for a few seconds.  

And then she bowed again .

“Like I said, my lady. I only go where I am called.” She said quietly.

She turned on her heels, stalking away and Jiah could only stare after her, heart pounding a bit at what had just happened. She wasn’t sure why she felt so much disquiet. She’d never had high hopes of fidelity from Namjoon. The entire village knew that Jisoo had been his paramour. But now that she had seen how dismissive the younger girl was of her, she felt the unaccountable urge to fight back. To stake her claim.

“You look pretty upset. Don’t let her bother you. Namjoon will not break his vows.” Lady Kim said quietly and Jiah gave her a soft smile, although her heart still raced. She remembered how pretty the girl had looked in all her brocades and velvets. She stared down at her own murky yellow dress. She couldn’t go to the council meeting, dressed worse than a courtesan. Couldn’t embarrass Namjoon like that.

“ My Lady….” She turned to her mother in law. The older woman hummed, returning to examining the shelves.

“What is it, child?”

“Can we stop at the seamstress’ hut on our way back?”

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

Whatever Namjoon had been expecting, as he knocked on his wife’s private quarters, it hadn’t been this.

He stared , or to be more accurate, gaped at his wife, completely thrown by her appearance.

She looked…. Cheerful.

That was the only word he could think of, taking in the warm yellow and green fabric of her gown, all with an abundance of ribbons and lace. She had also clearly made some effort to tame her hair.

Not a very successfully attempt, considering the dozen strands sticking out of her bun and curling over her bare neck and shoulders …..but an attempt nonetheless.

Which reminded him.

Why was her neck bare?

“I…. have you forgotten… part of your dress…?” He asked awkwardly, gaze trained on the pale, blemish less expanse of skin in front of him. Too much of it was on display he felt.

“Oh?” Jiah twirled about for a second, glancing at herself. “ Not at all, my alpha. This is how it is.”

Namjoon blinked.

“Right… the night is getting colder. Perhaps a shawl?” He suggested tactfully.

Jiah frowned, sticking a hand out of the door as though to the gauge the night air.

“Really? Feels quite warm to me.” She said thoughtfully.  

“It may be cold for the baby.” He said quickly and that made her pause. She glanced back down at her tummy and he wondered what she expected to see, every time she did that.

“Perhaps you’re right alpha….let me be back.” She floated back into the hut and he sighed in relief when she reappeared with a white fleece shawl over her shoulders.

“Shall we go ?” She asked quietly and he hesitated before slowly offering her his arm. She gripped it lightly, and they began the short walk to the main village square where the council usually convened.

“You… You’re better adjusted to this place now?” He asked carefully, trying to find the girl he had taken to his bed. The terrified, nervous , trembling young girl.

Jiah didn’t respond at once.

“I… I’ve been drinking some of Selma’s potions. They help.” She said quietly and he frowned.

“Potions? Potions for what?”

“They help with my nerves. I get scared easily…imagine things ….” She trailed off nervously.” I’m very anxious by nature and it gets worse in a new place. With new people.”

Namjoon considered that carefully. That made sense. Perhaps, that was why she had been so odd.

“The potions help?” He asked carefully and she nodded.

“Yes…that and your mother.”

“My mother?”

“She’s very kind to me.”

Namjoon laughed a bit at that. In all the years he has had people talking to him about his mother, the word ‘kind ‘ had never come up.

“ I’m being honest….she has helped me adapt to this place. To see how things are run. I… I don’t want to be a bother. I want to pull my weight. In the pack. To help in any way I can…”

Namjoon felt a sudden unaccountable fondness bloom in his chest at the innocent words.

“ That’s very virtuous of you.” He said seriously and she flushed.

They didn’t say anything else, continuing the rest of the path in companionable silence Namjoon spotted the seven council members gathered around a blazing fire and lightly stepped closer to her.

“You can stay close to me. You don’t have to answer them.  If they try to draw you into any controversial topic, just ignore them. I’ll handle it.” He said quickly.

Jiah gave him a wide eyed, nervous look but nodded quickly, fingers moving from his forearm to his palm , linking with his own and gripping tight.

“I’m here. You’re not alone.” She said quickly and it was ridiculous, how the words actually helped him relax just a little.

Taking a deep breath, he led her on to the meeting.

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

Author’s Note : i thinks its about time i accepted that this is a full blown fic and not just a drabble. fuck my life. 

Note : Red feathers are actually herbal medicines used as anti depressants. So this is just werewolf au equivalent of therapy. 

[awesomerextyphoon]

Speculum Cupido

Summary: You’ve been Dr. Strange’s apprentice for some time now and you wanted to prove your best friend wrong. It goes awry and both of you find yourselves in a ‘dark mirror’ universe where the Captain, the Asset, the Kraken, and the Fallen Angel want to make both of you theirs.

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Female Reader x Dark!Ransom, minor Dark!Bucky x OFC x Dark!Sam

Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Word Count: 3,072

Warning: Dub/Non-Con Smut, Oral (m & f receiving), Daddy Kink, MMF Threesome, Double Penetration, Spit Roasting, Non-Con Drugging, Breeding Kink, and Artistic License w/Biology

A/N: This is my gift to @labella420​ for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​, @chrissquares​ , and @amythedvdhoarder​’s Happy Hoelentine’s Day Challenge.  Dividers are by the lovely @firefly-graphics​. Shout out to @saiyanprincessswanie​ for letting me borrow an idea of hers for this fic. Thanks to @the-soulofdevil​ for the beta.

Back to Masterlist

Another Valentine’s Day, another day for the world to mock me being single.

You were having enough of a ‘meh’ week as it is. Dr. Strange had to return to Kamar-Taj for an in-person meeting and Wong was who knows where. They had instructed you to work on your portal and transfiguration spells while they were away which was fair since you’ve been lacking in that department.

It’s just that you longed for some excitement.

Luckily you wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s completely alone; Isabeau, your best friend, was coming over due to as she put it, ‘no one cares about a day where all one gets is somewhat good sex’.

Fast Forward two hours and you’re getting your room ready for Galentine’s Day Movie Night. You had decked out your room with homemade baked goods, drinks, best friend movies, all the good shit.

“I have wonderful news!” Isabeau burst in with gusto yet again.

You shot her a bemused smile, “What is it this time?”

“I have a new crush! It’s Eric from IT!”

“Are you sure this won’t end up like last time?” you queried in reference to the time when Isabeau’s crush turned out to be a complete asshole.

“Oh hush! This won’t be like that at all,” Isabeau retorted, “Now how about you? Have you had any luck with a hot sorcerer?”

“If only I’d be so lucky,” you muttered as Isabeau started on the Toffee Crunch Cookies you made.

A few minutes later, Isabeau’s eyes narrowed and her full lips curved upward in a mischievous smirk.

She had one of her ideas again.

“Hey, why don’t you try an ambiance spell. They’re harmless and you always feel better afterward.”

You didn’t like casting them due to something always going awry, but you relented once Isabeau broke out her puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, alright, I give,” you submitted, “I’ll try a simple floating star spell. Let me find the book.”

 Both of you went to the library for the book but it was nowhere to be found. All of the ambiance and illusion books were blank.

“Is this a sorcerer thing? I’m not seeing any words or illustrations,” puzzled Isabeau as you went through book after book in the library only to find them blank.

“No. Maybe we should just go back to my room,” you suggested as you made your way to the exit.

“Wait! There’s one book left. You could try that one.” Isabeau pointed to the last book on the shelf. It was a little worn like many of the books that resided in the library, but the inscriptions seemed odd; like it wasn’t supposed to be there.

Yet it was the only book that had anything in it.

“Fine,” you relented as you took the book back to your room.

  The spells in the book weren’t anything out of the ordinary, but one spell seemed to stand out to both of you.

“Speculum Mundus?” Isabeau wondered.

“It means Mirror World in Latin.”

“Oh,” her eyes got a mischievous glint to them again, “I bet you can’t cast the spell.”

“Not this again.”

“Oh come on,” Isabeau goaded, “It’s a simple mirror world spell. You’ve done it before. What’s the worse that can happen?”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you gonna chicken out again?”

“No! Just give me a minute,” you mumbled as your hands got into the starting position and recited the incantation.

  The room changed instantly.

It was filled with prism-like structures and kaleidoscope imagery giving the space a surreal ambiance.

It wasn’t unlike the last time you went into the Quantum Realm with Dr. Strange and Wong, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and a chill shot through your spine.

You heard a gasp and turned around to see Isabeau with her protruding eyes opened wide and her mouth gaping. Following her line of sight, you saw four of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.

Though something was amiss.

For one thing, there were two Steve Rogers; one with a beard and one clean-shaven. Bucky Barnes’ arm was silver and not dark gray with gold highlights. All of them were in black uniforms with sections of vermillion and/or maroon. Clean-shaven Steve had a black tactical suit with a vermillion Kraken on his chest. Bearded Steve had a skull with tentacles on it. Sam had three vermillion stripes and one maroon stripe across his chest and shoulders with a falcon’s head in red surrounded by a black circle between his pecs.

But the thing that set off all your alarms was the fact that Bucky’s outfit was a dead ringer of his Winter Soldier days.

Instinctively, you grabbed Isabeau’s hand and made a mad dash for the hallway. You needed to get some distance so you could ground yourself.

You tried breaking the spell but to no avail. Not only did the spell not break, but your hands also burned at each attempt.

“We won’t lose you again!” one of the Steves yelled as you and Isabeau turned a corner.

“Come here, mici prințese!” another voice, probably Bucky’s shouted as the two of you made your way into a closet.

“I think we’re okay for now,” you breathed telepathically as the four Adonises crept past your hiding place.

“What’s the plan now?” Isabeau asked fearfully as her heartbeat started to rise in terror.

“I don’t know but-” you were cut off by a strike to the back of your head and your vision rapidly fading to black.

  Muffled voices and the beeping of medical equipment brought you from the void.

“Nothing is wrong….they’re…good, sir.”

“Be sure that they are. We can’t leave anything up to chance.”

Groggily, you open your eyes to find yourself in a sleek hospital room lightly chained to a bed. Several other people were monitoring your vitals. One of them is Dr. Bruce Banner, or what seems to be Dr. Banner.

Bruce turned to see you looking around with a slightly confused expression, “Ah, you’re awake,” he turned to one of his aides, “Contact the Captain and Lieutenant. Tell them to come to get their bride.”

You blinked. Bride?

“Where is Isabeau, my friend?” you inquired as one of the aides brought you some water.

Bruce scowled, “Don’t think about her. You might be able to see her if the Captain and/or Lieutenant wills it.” he remarked while eyeing you up and down in a condescending almost lecherous manner, “Hmm, looks great for breeding,” Bruce noted as he fondled and prodded your curves.

You’ve always been proud of how you looked, but at that moment you wanted to shrink in the corner after giving this Bruce a roundhouse kick to the groin.

You were about to tell Dark!Bruce to fuck off when Tony Stark, fuck it, Dark!Tony entered the room. This Tony looked a lot more sinister with his silver, gray, light, and steel navy blue armor. His face and hair were mostly uncovered with his facial expression positively predatory.

“Cap’s one lucky bastard. He gets a sexy bunny along with Lieutenant Smart Ass.”

Recalling how some megalomaniacs liked shows of submissiveness, you lowered your head and asked where you were.

Whether it be out of pity, spite, or malice, Tony answered your question, “You’re in another earth, another universe.”

You nearly swiveled to look outside the window. NYC’s skyline was radically different. There were fewer buildings and HYDRA insignias everywhere.

“HYDRA took over this world.” You deadpanned. FUUUUCK!

“Sexy and smart.” Tony praised sardonically.

It didn’t take time for HYDRA to regroup after WWII. Zola and his associates were able to convince Howard Stark to give them the Tesseract with the promise of great renown, riches, and no longer being bound by the laws of weaker men. They were able to create a superweapon with the help of Dr. Whitney Frost and have been ruling the planet ever since.

It could be worse. HYDRA knew they had to offer the people comforts in exchange for their obedience. They eradicated all diseases, created a good standard of living, and ended all petty conflicts under the new world order.

Though Tony didn’t feel the need to tell you. You’ll figure it out on your own.

The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and his younger, clean-shaven counterpart in all their masculine glory.

“Good, you’re here.” Bruce welcomed smirking at your silent pleas.

Both soldiers walked over and inspected you.

“Hello, kitten. Name’s Ransom.” The clean-shaven soldier drawled as he moaned from your scent, “Nice set of lips you’ve got there.”

“We’ll definitely have some fun with her,” Steve noted as licked his lips ogling your curves.

You had to use all of your restraint not to spit in their faces.

“We’ll take her.” Ransom decided while Steve nodded.

Several of the aides breathed a sigh of relief as Steve broke the chains on your bed like they were nothing.

“Don’t have too much fun now!” Tony called as Steve picked you up bridal style.

“Who am I kidding? they’ll breed her like a Catholic rabbit!”

  “Um, where are you taking me?” you queried, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You will address us as ‘Sir’ in public unless instructed otherwise. Is that understood?” It took all that Steve had not to push against the wall and pound your pussy with his cock he was so enraged.

No, he needed to wait. No one was to see what’s theirs.

Ransom, for his part, chuckled and shook his head, “Best not to anger this one, kitten. He hasn’t been in the best of moods.”

  You gasped once the doors to their living quarters opened.

The place was huge!

It had a modern yet retro design; it should’ve been confusing, but it worked. Grand windows showcased the skyline with a balcony in the middle with a huge kitchen next to what looked to be a restaurant-style fridge and a huge living room with a TV and a fireplace.

Yet there seemed to be something missing.

“Place needs a woman’s touch,” Ransom commented sending a smirk your way.

“I’ll see you in the guest quarters Ransom” Steve deadpanned as he led you down a hall.

  The bedroom was enormous yet sparse like they didn’t know what to do with it.

You were about to say something when Steve dropped you onto the incredibly soft mattress. His eyes darkened with lust and you knew what he wanted. You couldn’t think of a way out of this, not with the magic inhibitors Bruce placed on your wrists.

Maybe you could give escape one last try; you just had to wait for the right opening.

Steve smirked upon seeing you removing your clothes. He liked that you knew your place, his pretty little princess.

You could only gasp when Steve removed his uniform top. He had an incredibly defined musculature: broad shoulders, beefy biceps, chiseled pecs and abs, and a seriously drool-worthy Adonis Belt. The light shining behind him made his body appear even more glorious.

Steve looked like an ancient god brought to modern times.

With a predatory smirk, Steve slowly crawled to you loving the smell of your arousal. “Let me lay out a few rules, sweetheart. You will make our meals, clean our rooms, bear our children, and be our good little whore. You must earn the right to wear a bra; panties are out of the question.”

Each rule was emphasized by a kiss or a love bite to your jaw, neck, collarbone, and shoulders.

Finally, you are to address us as Sir in public and Daddy in private. Say it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you muttered with your eyes downcast.

Steve lifted your chin up with his forefinger, “That’s a good girl,” and brought you in for a kiss on the lips.

The kiss was demanding yet soft. You were surprised he was capable of such gentleness.

Steve was about to push his tongue into his mouth when Ransom strolled into the room.

“Does she know the drill?”

Steve broke the kiss with a smirk,” Just finished explaining it.”

Ransom shot you a sardonic smirk, “You got the rules, kitten? Good. Now if you misbehave, I’m gonna send you to the dungeons for a few days.”

Steve started up again, “But...if you’re good-”

“A good little wifey,” Ransom interjected caressing your right cheek and leaning in for a kiss.

This kiss started off soft then intensified (really know how to lure a girl) into one filled with passion and dominance. Ransom forced his tongue into and moaned at your taste. A few seconds later he was pushing what felt like a small tablet past your tongue forcing you to swallow.

“Did you do it yet?”

“Cool it, grandpa! I did, don’t you worry. She’s gonna feel it. Aren’t ya, kitten.”

You started to feel strange. Your body temperature skyrocketed, your mind was in a deep haze, your thighs were clenching on overtime you were so turned on. You needed relief and fast.

“Please Daddies!” you begged as you tried your best not to touch yourself.

“See grandpa? She’s ready.” Ransom purred as he grabbed your thighs and placed them over his shoulders. He planted a few kisses near your entrance and groaned at the smell of your arousal.

It only took one long, slow lick to your slit to turn you into a moaning mess. You couldn’t believe the pleasure you were feeling. It was like a bolt of lightning shot through you.

Ransom groaned at the taste of your juices. Not even Stark’s overpriced chefs could compare. “Fuck, she tastes divine,” he groaned and dove in for more. Ransom attacked your folds and swollen clit with insane intensity and precision alternating between his tongue and fingers.

You were on cloud nine. Each motion took you further to the precipice of an orgasm. Ransom kept bringing you back from the edge only thrust you back into his level of tumultuous.

Steve got in on the action by covering your moans with a kiss of all-consuming passion and started playing with your breasts.

“Fuck, these tits are amazing! Can’t wait until these are filled with milk” Steve purred as he took one of your nipples into his mouth and the other between his big and forefingers.

After twenty minutes of teasing, Ransom finally let you come. A volcanic eruption of ecstasy erupted from your core and Ransom lapped up all of your juices.

“Rogers, you’re in for a treat!” Ransom exclaimed as he hopped off the edge of the mattress.

“I get her pussy first since you got to eat her out,” Steve uttered as grinned at your blissed-out state.

With a tsk, both of them got you into position with Steve’s thick, muscular thighs on either side of your hips and Ransom standing in front of you taking off his pants.

He was huge! His cock was long, thick, and veiny. It wobbled against his masterfully sculpted abs with each step he took. You wondered how that was going to fit in your mouth. Turns out Steve’s was no smaller if his tip being coated with your slick is any indication.

“This won’t hurt, kitten. You were made for us.” Ransom cooed.

You didn’t know how right he was.

Steve made his move by pushing into you inch by delicious inch and moaned at the sensation. “Fuck, she fits like a dream.”

“Don’t take forever, grandpa.” Ransom chided.

“Shut up, ya punk!” Steve retorted as he began thrusting into you loving the way your pussy clenched around him like a vice’s grip.

“Open wide, kitten,” Ransom started to push his throbbing cock into your mouth.

It took a bit of time and effort to loosen your jaw enough for him to fully enter you. He started fucking your mouth before you were ready. You tried not to gag he was so rough.

What happened to the man from earlier?

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Ransom breathed as he was approaching his climax.

Steve came with a primal roar that reverberated throughout the room after making you come two more times.

“Swallow it, kitten” Ransom ordered.

Funny thing is, you didn’t need the order. You delighted in the salty, tangy, and slightly sweet flavor.

Two minutes after you swallowed all of Ransom’s spent, both men decided it was time to move. Ransom got onto the mattress and pulled you on top of him with his tip nudging your entrance. Steve got behind you and placed kisses along the juncture between your neck and shoulders while positioning himself at your ass.

“Please...please don’t do this!” you pleaded, the pill’s effect slipping for the tiniest of moments.

Steve grabbed your neck with just enough force to pause, not hurt.” Best be a good girl now, sweetheart,” he warned.

Ransom slid in first, “Holy fucking shit!” he moaned, “Sam owes me $40.

“That depends on how well their bride is taking to them,” Steve pointed out.

“Eh, we’ll say ours is better.”

Ransom moaned again once he bottomed out and grabbed the globes of your blessed backside. He couldn’t wait to grab and smack it around in their quarters.

Steve moved slowly causing both of your breathing to hitch, his from pleasure and yours from slight pain.

With a grin and smirk, they started moving in tandem. Your body almost couldn’t take the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“I could get used to this,” Ransom remarked.

“Well, we have the week,” Steve breathed past your ear.

Both kept at it until they came in you twice. You nearly passed out after your twelfth orgasm.

“Rest kitten,” Ransom purred as you finally gave in to your exhaustion.

  “The bride took to our seed,” Steve reported to Director Pierce.

“Good. We found their parents along with the rest of the resistance.” Pierce imparted.

Steve scowled at the information.

You and your friend, Isabeau, were the only ones to survive the Eve Project. HYDRA wanted to genetically groom compatible brides for their top soldiers. You were promised to Steve and Ransom and your friend to Bucky and Sam. Both of you were whisked away to another Earth by the resistance and your treacherous parents.

Now you were back where you belong.

“When do we leave?” Ransom growled.

“Once Strange and Wanda crack the protection spell. In the meantime, enjoy your bride.” Pierce turned to leave, but stopped before turning off the screen,” I want to see some little ones soon.”

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Lullaby Reacts to Time’s Batman Level Adoption Bullshit

@tortilla-of-courage I offer you mercy. Also no one mentioned wanting to be tagged on the last story on this series so it’s just you for right now I guess.

Also, this fic is called ‘Aunt Lullaby/Uncle Sheik On Time’s Sudden Acquisition Of Kids’ in my docs, but I’ve been using the ‘Batman-Level Adoption Bullshit’ for so long that this is the title now.

Also! Some of the boys have some heavy topics to their backstories (Wars comes to mind as an example), so let me know if I need to tag this with certain warnings or stuff. Nothing is actually shown, but I figured I’d just put that out there.

-----------------

Lullaby, who was still just Zelda then, had been very excited when Time, then just Link, had called her to tell her that Malon was pregnant.

She had gotten the call first, as Link had found it important that she knew before anyone else. After everything else in his life, he said, he wanted the person who he knew would always be there for him to know first, and that he was going to be making a few other calls later that day.

Link had never had an easy life. When his father died when he was 10, he’d ended up devastated. Zelda and her Aunt Impa had found him hiding in an alley a few days after, once he’d run away from the social workers. His sister Navi had been with him, and the two were sorting through the very few bits of snack food they’d had. Link’s father had been a foster parent for a lot of strays, orphans, or abused kids needing another place to stay. Link had fallen into the orphan category, and so the social workers had planned to cycle him back into the system. He’d lost contact with his sister Saria, whom he still hadn’t found out how to make contact with again, and so all he had was Navi. Impa had taken them both in on the spot, much to the annoyance of Zelda’s father initially, but the two grew on him. Navi went missing when Link and Zelda had been 17, after an issue with a man who really had wanted to see them both dead. Link hadn’t given up hope yet, but with every passing year it looked worse and worse for her to be okay.

Zelda had known Malon from day one, and had loved Link’s wife and was so happy to see him find that bit of happiness. The one thing she knew he wanted more than anything else was to have a solid, stable family of his own.

The pregnancy was a wonderful bit of news, and she couldn’t be happier for her brother.

She had spent some time over at their house, her then-girlfriend Ruto coming as well, helping Malon with some of the housework and such since she wasn’t supposed to be doing too much of the ranch work while pregnant.

She had arrived at the hospital less than thirty minutes after she got the call that Malon was in labor, and spent the time pacing in the hall, then supporting Link when he got kicked out after panicking too much. Apparently Malon had enough of him.

She could relate.

After Link had his whole ‘we made a whole baby person’ moment where his brain short-circuited after he was handed his son, the next person who got to hold him was Zelda. A chubby baby, who slept almost the whole time. He had his mother’s nose, thank Hylia.

Zelda saw him open his eyes only once that day, and she could swear she saw in his cobalt-silver eyes that same spark in his father’s eye. Singular, since Link only had the one.

Zelda’s family had a long tradition of naming their kids after family members. Her name was her grandmother’s and her great-grandmother’s, so on so forth. Her father had been pressing to pick a family name the entire pregnancy. Her mother had kept telling him to back off a little. Fortunately, Malon’s family also had a set of passed down names, hers being one of them. So the idea of naming the child after family wasn’t a big deal for her, even if it was a different set of names.

However, there was one thing to take into account here, and that was Link’s family.

No one knew what the naming traditions in his family were, he didn’t even know his birth parent’s names. But that didn’t change the desire to find a way to work them in too.

There was only one name from Link’s family that anyone knew.

The baby was named Link.

Zelda’s father stopped complaining a week later. Her mother was very clear about it.

At Zelda and Ruto’s wedding seven years later, Link Jr. was the ring bearer.

Junior stopped being his nickname when he was thirteen.

(---)

Zelda got a call from Link Sr. about a day after it happened with a simple request.

“Who was in charge of the paperwork when your family adopted me?”

Zelda blinked once, then twice. “Come again?”

“The lawyer who arranged for my adoption, who was that?” Link asked again.

“Why?” Zelda asked, her wife leaning around the doorframe to give her a concerned look. Zelda shot her a thumbs up.

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the phone. “I think I’ve acquired another son,”

Zelda came over.

This new nephew of hers, apparently, was a sweet boy. A series of scars littered his entire left side, burn and explosive damage if she were to guess, and he had no idea how he got them. He had amnesia. The one thing he did know was his name.

His name was Link.

Zelda had to take a minute. She was trying very hard not to laugh. This was exactly the kind of luck her brother had.

“Zelda, stop mocking me, this wasn’t my call,” Link whined, though he’d never say it was a whine.

“Link, you have to see the humour here,” she gasped, waving at the two boys in the living room where Jr. was trying to show Scars how to use a lasso. This was Zelda’s idea, but she wasn’t taking responsibility for it.

Link just sighed heavily. “Link found him on the street. Malon looked into it and his parents died in a car crash a year ago, he has nowhere to go. We’ve agreed to let him stay, you understand that,”

Zelda nodded, sobering up some. “Yeah, I get that, kinda. The lawyer we hired was named Rauru, Mom should have his contact information still, you should call her,”

Link sighed, relieved. “Thank you,”

“Of course, just don’t make it a habit,”

(---)

The first inclination this would be a habit was a year later.

Wild, the younger of his sons, was in the same class as another boy named Link. This boy had lived with his uncle his whole life, and got the call his uncle died when at school. Sheik was about ready to punch someone for doing that to the boy, and just before christmas no less.

Wild brought him home, insisting he could stay at least for the holidays. The agreement wasn’t even a question, there was no way he was going to be forced to spend a holiday at an orphanage.

When Sheik and Ruto showed up on christmas day, not that their family cared much for christmas but they were all off anyways, the newest Link had been named Legend.

He was a little more shy than the others, understandably, and a little snappish.

Not a bad kid, just one grieving and in need of family. That was something their family had never hesitated to provide.

Sheik’s mother teaching him how to spin a butterfly knife was probably not the wisest decision, but considering Rottla heard a therapist say “Your kids are traumatized, they need to feel safe again,” and decided to sign them up for every martial arts she could, well, it should have been a sign that she wasn’t the best in that regard. Time, Link Sr., had made it very clear he felt Sheik took after her. Sheik had no idea what his brother was talking about.

Legend didn’t leave after that. One call to Rauru, and Legend was a permanent member of the family.

Sheik took great pride in being the favorite Uncle of Legend’s, after his late guardian of course. He pointedly ignored that he was the only Uncle, and only part-time.

Time could suck it.

(---)

Lullaby, since so many of her nephews’ friends were named Zelda apparently, received a call at five am.

True, she knew her brother and his wife woke up at sunrise to do yard work and such, but usually they were kind enough to let her sleep in.

Not so this morning.

“Wha?” She mumbled into the phone, trying, and failing, to not wake her wife.

“Zelda,” came Malon’s clipped tone through the receiver, “do you know about a missing person’s case for one Jerimiah Smith?”

Zelda blinked heavily, and had to convince herself not to go back to sleep. Who, why did Malon care? It was five am, the sun wasn’t even up yet.

“Why?” She asked to buy time, still working on a quarter of thought. Ruto rolled over and held her. Not helping, Ruto.

“I have a Link Smith in my barn claiming that his grandfather went missing, and he’s run away from a temporary foster home,” Malon explained, and okay that was worth waking up for.

Lullaby sat up, pushing Ruto’s arm from her waist to her lap, causing her wife to grumble, and turned on the lamp, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Okay, okay pause. Pause and back up,” she half-swallowed a yawn, squinting into her bedroom. “What is going on?”

“I got up to do some work, since Link is still asleep, and I came into the barn to find a boy asleep in the hay, here you are,” her voice dropped away from the receiver, likely talking to the boy in question, then came back. “So I found a boy in the hay, and I woke him up. He says his name is Link Smith, and he was living with his grandfather since his father was overseas in the military. His father wasn’t home enough to care for him, so his grandfather had sole custody after his mother died or something, there was a lot of tears at this part. Anyways, his grandfather went missing a week ago, and he’s been through three foster homes and none of them were very accepting of, he apparently has a ‘mental thing’ that he’s dealing with. I was wondering if you could confirm his story?”

Lullaby leaned over the bed, grumbling, and grabbed her laptop, Ruto giving up on getting her back to bed and sliding up the headboard with her to drape over her shoulders while she pulled up Firefox. “Hold on,” she told her sister in law, plugging the name into Google. Jeremiah Smith, went missing a week ago, blah blah blah, oh there we go.

Link Smith, grandson of Jerimiah Smith, left in limbo after his grandfather’s disappearance. Oh, that was interesting. According to this article, which most certainly was breaking some privacy laws and if Link Smith was staying it would be coming down, the boy had multiple personality disorder.

“Yeah, he’s telling the truth,” Lullaby said, switching the phone to her other ear so Ruto could nuzzle up better without bumping it. “Also, I found his weird ‘mental thing’. According to this article, which I’m pretty sure isn’t legal, he’s got dissociative identity disorder,”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Ruto mumbled, still mostly asleep on her shoulder.

“No, not really. He’s actually more likely to be in danger than a danger,” she twisted to kiss her wife’s head, then went back to Malon. “He probably really needs someone who’ll be supportive enough through all this, both the disappearance and his condition. DID isn’t something easy to live with, I can see him having some issues with foster parents,” Lullaby had never been so glad that she got bored one day and decided to look it up after she heard people talk about it so negatively. You never know when information like that would be useful.

“He’s fine to take in?” Malon whispered after a moment. “I just, the other boys,”

“Will need to be patient, but unless one of his alters is particularly bad for dealing with threats, perceived or otherwise, in an unkind way then he’s fine and safe to be around. I’d ask him about that, but don’t force him to admit anything that can be bad for him, but I don’t see any more risk than taking in Wild or Legend,”

Malon sighed on the other end of the line. “Alright, I’ll bring him in and wake up Link, so he can call Rauru about all this while I sit with him and try and get him to relax,”

“Wonderful, I’ll call the office and see about what I can do about this article then. And for the record, if you ever call me at asscrack of dawn o’clock in the morning again, then next time we meet I’m clocking you,”

Malon had the nerve to laugh.

Four, as he’d been nicknamed by the time Lullaby and Ruto showed up to meet him, was a fascinating person. Green, the host of his system, was a brave, if occasionally airheaded, boy who wanted to try everything, and had been fascinated by his grandfather’s old-timey forge. Time had plans to make one in the yard for him. Red, the emotional and spiritual protector of the system, was empathetic and sweet and compassionate. No one had a bad word to say about Red. Vio, short for Violet, was the gatekeeper for the system and kept the four of them working on the same page. Bright and clever boy, his nose stuck in a book most of the time and willing to offer up the most random and yet useful information. Blue, the physical protector, was a little gruff and definitely someone you just got used to, but he cared deeply about his ‘brothers’ as they called each other, and the external brothers he acquired grew on him quickly enough too. It was a bit of a fight to get custody of him, but Rauru was the best there was, so it was only a week or two before the paperwork was going through for him.

Lullaby had a feeling this wasn’t the end by a long shot, and prayed that Hylia would be merciful about granting Time’s wish for a family.

She was going a little overboard.

(---)

Sheik wasn’t surprised in the least at the newest addition when he walked in the one day. No, mostly he was just confused as to why he hadn’t gotten a phone call before he got there.

Usually there was a phone call.

He was very upset by the way the boy looked, however.

This new addition, Warriors as he’d learn later that Time acquired yet another Link, was curled up in the corner of the couch with his scarf wrapped around him like a blanket, clearly trying not to be seen. Voices floated out of the kitchen, and Sheik picked up that Twilight brought him home, and was lobbying for a new brother.

Ah, that’s why there was no phone call.

Ruto went to investigate the conversation, so Sheik decided to introduce himself to his newest nephew.

Upon closer inspection, the boy looked about Twilight’s age, and had a bruise on his temple, maybe a day or two old now. Looking closer saw a few more on the left side of the boy’s face. Someone hit him, with purpose.

Sheik sat down next to him and said nothing, waiting for him to make the first move. Eventually, he poked his head out of his scarf.

“Hello,” Sheik offered once it became clear he wouldn’t be saying anything.

“Hullo,” he mumbled into the fabric, glancing away and back at his feet.

“My name is Sheik,” Sheik offered lightly. “Time is my brother,”

The boy looked up, eying him. “Twilight is your nephew?”

“Yes, he is,” Sheik nodded, smiling at him. “You’re a friend of his?”

The boy shrugged. “Kinda,” a beat of silence passed, then he shifted around. “He said I’d be safe here,”

“You will be,” Sheik agreed, trying to be comforting. “I can assure you of that,”

He hummed and snuggled back into his scarf.

“May I, if this isn’t overstepping, can I ask why you need somewhere to be safe?” Sheik asked after a moment.

He tensed up, eyes darting to him and at the doorway, and then back, wide eyes a little panicked.

Sheik was just about to apologize when the boy spoke.

“I ran away from home,” he admitted, looking away. “My uh, my parents aren’t, great people. I can’t go back, so I need somewhere else to go. Twi said I could be safe here, that his parents would fight for me,”

“They will,” Sheik said with enough conviction it almost startled him. “I know my brother, and he can’t turn away from someone in need, and his wife is the most strong willed woman I’ve ever met. You won’t find another pair of people more willing to go to war for you than them.”

He blinked at Sheik, then nodded, relaxing a little. “And, if my parents come for me?”

Sheik grinned. “My family is very rich, and we have a small army of very good lawyers. You won’t be going back there, I assure you,”

He smiled, and leaned over towards Sheik a little. “I’m Link,”

Of course you are, Sheik thought. He held out an arm for ‘Link’ to lean into, not getting attached to the name since it would be changing. The boy leaned into his side easily, deflating against him with a sigh. He looked so tired.

“Link,” Sheik asked carefully, watching his words. “Can I ask about the bruises on your face?”

The boy blinked up at him, biting his lip.

“They uh, my dad did that,” he admitted in a small voice, curling into Sheik’s side, and the sheikah pulled him in close to his side, hoping to provide the comfort Link was seeking. “Right before I left. I packed up and went through the window. My twin sister is still there, and I’m a little worried about her, but I can’t go back again. I, he,” he paused, sucking in a breath. Sheik rubbed his arm and side, trying to help him calm down, ignoring the tears on his shirt.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Link finally admitted in a small, scared voice.

Sheik knew he never had very many parental instincts, and he and Ruto agreed no kids before they even got engaged, but for the first time ever Sheik felt that flare that Time and Malon described everytime something threatened their kids. It was then and there Sheik decided this boy would be part of their family, whether Time was the one who took him in or not. No kid should have to say that and mean it. No kid should be scared their parent was going to kill them.

Oh, the lawyers Sheik was planning on bringing down on whoever these assholes were would be many.

Time took the boy in, as Sheik predicted (thankfully), and sure enough the immediate support was immense. His parents never even put out a missing persons report. Sheik added child negligence to his list of growing charges to lay out.

Two months after Warriors moved in, he got a call from his sister. She got out and was safe now, and wanted to be sure he was as well. This made him very relieved. They met up once or twice, and seemed to be getting back to normal.

Two weeks later, Legend and Wild got suspended distracting Warriors’ parents so Twilight could sneak him out the back of the school. Four didn’t get suspended, but only because when Vio messed with the security cameras to cover up the escape he didn’t get caught. Time took all three out for ice-cream and junk food when he picked them up.

Lullaby saw an opportunity and took it without hesitation. Lawyers were called and organized, and without much wait there was an order for both of them to appear in court on child abuse and negligence charges. The kidnapping charge laid against them in retaliation was almost laughable.

A few weeks later, Time and Malon had full custody of Warriors pending a proper criminal trial for full punishment of his parents, at which time Linkle, Warriors’ twin sister, planned to testify as well. If they couldn’t get things settled before Warriors turned 18, then they planned to push through an adult adoption the day he did. A birthday present, Time had said. Lullaby laughed.

(---)

Sky was probably the most skittish of Time’s sons.

Lullaby wasn’t sure entirely why he was so skittish, but he was. He reminded her of a bird, or a rodent, or a cat who really, really didn’t want to interact with new people.

She had been briefed before she visited on Sky’s background. His social worker had been having trouble setting him up with a home where he’d stay for longer than a week or so, and in a last ditch effort had asked Time and Malon, with their long track record of housing troubled and unhousable youths, if they could take one more. They agreed.

Sky apparently had a friend, a bit of a troublemaker if Lullaby guessed correctly, who had gotten the two arrested. Time mentioned the event had Sky concerned about being ‘too much trouble’ and that ‘they’d get rid of him too’ or something. Time said this was ridiculous, as Sky caused him the least amount of trouble, but the boy was concerned about being thrown away again. He apparently had a few self-worth issues.

Lullaby found him on the back porch talking to the birds. Not in any human language, mind you, and Lullaby spoke many, but cooing and chirping back at them. He seemed very happy and at ease like that, singing at the birds.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked in a whisper during a pause in the conversation.

Sky jumped, eyes wide, and he squirmed a little when he saw her. “Uh, sure, I guess,”

She sat on the other end of the bench next to him, and calmly went back to watching the birds, and him interacting with them. He seemed much more at ease here than he did with people.

“Did you need something?” He asked, after a while, letting a blue jay grab a peanut from his hand.

“Not specifically,” she shook her head. “I had wanted to meet you, but nothing else,”

He blinked at her a little dumbly.

“Why would you want to meet me?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” She asked back, not sure what he was trying to say.

“Well, I mean, I’m not exactly special. And, it’s not like I’m staying,”

“I think you’re pretty special, most people can’t get birds to land on their hands like that,” Lullaby said gently, not liking how he spoke about himself. “And why would you think you aren’t staying?”

“I never stay,” he admitted, turning his eyes back to the birds, frowning. “No one ever considers me worth the effort,”

“You are very much worth the effort,” Lullaby countered, trying her best to keep her face soft instead of pinching up. “Trust me, however much effort you are, it is nowhere near the level of your brothers. Time wouldn’t have taken you in if he didn’t want you,”

“He’s just doing Impa a favour,” he said glumly, offering up more birdseed to the birds. “I won’t be staying forever,”

“I’m sure my brother has explained why that’s bullshit,” Lullaby said bluntly.

“But, I got arrested,” he mumbled.

“So have three of your brothers,” Lullaby pointed out. “Regularly. For much worse things. I promise you, that is not an issue,”

“But,”

“If you are going to say something bad about yourself again then I’m telling you right now I’m not going to listen to it,” Lullaby cut him off. “Time has told me a lot about you, and all of it is how much he loves you,”

“Really?” Sky looked up at her.

“You cause him the least amount of headaches of all his sons,” Lullaby smiled. “He adores you,”

Sky turned away, clearly trying to think that over.

“How about you tell me more about the things you enjoy doing,” Lullaby suggested.

“Huh?” Sky asked, turning back to her.

“I’d like to get to know more about what makes my nephew happy,” she smiled.

“Why?”

“Well, I’d be a bad aunt if I didn’t, especially since you’ll be sticking around,”

Sky looked like he didn’t believe her, but told her about his woodcarving anyways.

Lullaby was happy that as time went on Sky became less skittish and self-deprecating. He was a sweet kid, and as he got more comfortable and confident more of his true colours started showing through.

She felt a bit bad for Time, though. Apparently he was as prone to chaos as his brothers, he was just more subtle about it.

Time brought it on himself though. He should have known this when he adopted six boys.

(---)

The call about the next son had Lullaby’s head hitting her kitchen table, groaning loudly even when Ruto came to check on her.

Wild found a boy in the woods and they’d decided to keep him.

This was getting to be just a bit too much.

When Sheik and Ruto got to meet the boy, they were a bit taken aback. They had expected another Wild.

What they got was a quiet boy who mostly kept to himself. He was a bit shy, but he seemed to open up a bit more around Wild and, amusingly, Legend. He was a bit jumpy, but considering they had no idea how long he was in the woods that was expected.

What was surprising them most was that he did actually have a mother, who loved him very much, but who was very sick and so wasn’t able to actually take care of him, thus the wandering in the woods. His mother had been very worried, but physically unable to look. She had asked family to check but they gave up pretty quickly.

In light of her family being horrible for taking care of her son, and not knowing if she’d survive her illness, she asked Malon and Time if they could take care of her son for her since she clearly couldn’t trust her relatives and the boy’s father had abandoned them the moment she decided to keep him.

Time and Malon had taken one look at the boy and their sons, and agreed. They worked out an arrangement to keep the boy’s mother in the loop, and then they called Rauru. After which Time called his sibling.

This boy’s name was also Link. Sheik did not feel bad about laughing. Really, his brother had the weirdest luck.

They, for some reason, decided his nickname would be Hyrule. Why they decided to name him after the country, Sheik didn’t know. Apparently it was the only nickname he liked.

He had trouble reading, but he liked learning, especially if he could use what he learned to help people.

He fit right in, which made Sheik wonder exactly when his brother was going to stop adopting. He hoped it was before the ranch house ran out of room.

(---)

Eight. He stopped at eight.

Which was still too many, in Sheik’s opinion, but whatever.

The newest hellraiser at least didn’t come from the streets like almost all of the others.

This Link (because yes, his name was Link too) had recently lost his parents and his grandmother couldn’t financially support both him and his sister. So Time and Malon agreed to take care of him for her. The rest of their sons all acquired a grandma as well, it seemed.

They nicknamed him Wind, and he immediately latched onto his older brothers and started giving his new parents headaches.

When Lullaby and Ruto showed up next, she felt no sympathy for her brother. He brought this on himself.

She was more than a little pissed off when the brat stole her wallet though. Damn thief.

Time assured her that they’d talk to him about it. Lullaby wasn’t sure that’d help.

But, she reasoned, despite the chaos, Time was happy. Practically giddy. He lit up whenever he spoke about his sons, and he clearly loved them dearly.

Hylia had granted his wish for a family. She maybe went a bit overboard, but as long as Time was happy, so was Lullaby.

(---)

She wasn’t commenting on the ninth kid. She refused.

At least his name wasn’t ‘Link’.

[yuzuandshoma]

Yuzuru Hanyu’s hidden talent?

He shows no hint of focus here-its like he just does it WITHOUT THINKING

You think skaters talents are just doing quads and cool axels, but theres more to what you see. If you do a bit of research then you’ll find there hidden talents!

Some may not count this as a talent, but shoma sometimes blinks first on one eye then the other!

Yuzu can eat 1 full gyoza (known for his favourite food) into his mouth. Yes, a full gyoza.

On shoma’s channel, he and his good friend Kazuki Tomono did a spicy ramen challenge together and i’m pretty sure that Kazuki survived it! (Not many people do…jk) ps, Kazuki went to the nelborn trophy and for the SP he got 11th place, but for the fs he jumped all the way to 4th! I’m so proud of him, jumping all the way 7 places!

I’ll rlly miss yuzu’s competitions…as we know ice show programs aren’t just as good…(they are still good)

Another talent of yuzu is catching balls behind his back. Don’t judge me, but I can’t do that.

I really wish that when I was younger my parents made me start to figure skate because I sometimes envy other figure skaters meeting so many famous ppl, because if I were a figure skater although I am 8 whole years younger than yuzu, I would meet him first. He’s the reason i’m an fs fan!

Ntl i’d love to be that kid behind over there even though I just get to see yuzu, i’d still be thrilled. Someone has told me Yuzuru is pretty childish and a quarter of me agrees-not being mean, but childish by being cute and kind. Most children are like that.

My proof: Look at those cute skate covers!

If you didn’t know, once athletes retire, they get a bunch of magazines followed up before them! They have photo shoots and way more. (Before yuzu retired and before the news were out, he planned so many photoshoots. So if your favourite figure skater is having at least of 5 at a time, watch over them. I’m not saying they will retire, but the MIGHT.)

Yuzu’s magazine AERA has been released! Here where I am I can’t find any (sadly) but i’m sure in japan there are buckloads of those.

I’m so sorry if I keep apologising, but I want to avoid anything negative things.

Hehe sorry if this is too messy and I should make separate posts instead of long ones-but since I just started my account I want to make more and more content for you guys! Byebye, i’ll post again as soon as I can!

[thewriterowl]

👀 🖊📊🌝✨ for the fanfic ask game <3

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?: At this point, i seem to have no shame...but...let me think...I don't believe I actually have a project start but I have ideas. You know me, they are hella dark. Just anything with a Mand'alor Din kidnapping and breaking Luke seems to be my weird jam.

📊 Current number of WIPs: Erm...I have 17? XD not sure if all will see the light of day. But they are what I have started to the point they have their own document saved for me to continue. And all basically DinLuke or Luke focused.

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?: That is a toughie. I really am just so focused on Luke...it terms of just writing into a story, possibly Plo Koon or Thrawn. For more of a character focus (either main or a bit more in the forefront) Anakin.

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing: Not sure if I understand this...but maybe Dark, Ridiculous, Simping? XD

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP: A Lookout for Our Lonely (Luke raises his younger sister Rey and is in love with Grogu's Dad):

“Ok, Rey, three…two…” The little girl began to wiggle around on the couch, giggling excitedly as she hid behind her hands. Luke’s face dimpled at the sight. “One…one and a half…”

“Nooo, Luke!” She whined, wiggling around some more.

“One and three quarters…”

“Luuuuuke.” She continued to squirm but kept her hands over her eyes until she could peek.

He grinned and decided to show her some mercy, “Ok, open your eyes!”

She squealed in excitement and then promptly squealed again when her eyes landed on the boxed lunch presented before her. She pointed and bounced on her seat, “Ah, Totoro!”

The man laughed as he looked down at his handy-work, finding himself a little proud at the sight. 

The little lunch box, known as bento as he has discovered over the past year two years, had two nearly perfect triangle rice balls, specialized egg salad, sauteed vegetables, and a little bit of seasoned canned mayo-tuna. On the rice was dried seaweed cut to make a face to resemble a cat-bunny-thing. At least his skills were not that bad since Rey could figure out it was her favorite character.

To think a kid her age would hungrily demand that her daily lunches looked like this, vegetables and all. If it were in some anime she’d want to eat it.

He thanked whatever deity above that there was so much potential with vegetables and that rice was so cheap. She inhaled that.

Still, it would be nice to get her to be willing to eat more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches so he didn’t have to wake up as early to get this stuff made. Especially the rice. God…his rice-nightmares were still prominent. Burnt, mushy, undercooked…he drowned in the damned rice. He was still working hard on trying to get it down. One should never underestimate the work it took to make it.

‘She’ll eat greens and baked chicken and barely asks for dessert. Take what you got.’ He started to wrap up her box exactly as she likes. “Alright, so you approved of the Totoro lunch?”

“Yes!” She grinned, jumping to her feet on the couch and began to bounce.

“Feet off my bed, squishy.” He pinched her cheeks and helped her hop off. “Ok, I got your approval, so you go and finish getting dressed. I’ll do your hair as you have your milk and apple.”