#temporary mcd

[steddielations]

“Evening, sir.”

It’s the Harrington boy. Again.

“I told you, son, it’s Wayne,” he manages a smile, harder to do these days, like chipping it out of cement and dusting it off. But he gets it done.

Steve doesn’t have the Henderson boy with him today, that’s a first.

“Where’s the curly one?” He steps aside, letting Steve into the trailer door, more rickety than before. No money left to fix it after repairing the bulk of the earthquake damage.

“Dustin? He doesn’t wanna watch the game, and trust me, you don’t wanna listen to that kid complaining the whole time,” Steve walks by, sorta chuckling to himself, “I always miss the replay ‘cause he makes me change the channel to those D&D cartoons during the commercials, just like—”

He stops in front of the couch, looking over his shoulder at Wayne like he’s afraid he messed up somehow. Wayne noticed that look often from him, less and less, but still often. All that confidence he carries can drop on a dime, sorta reminded him of—

“Like Ed?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“S’alright. I don’t mind talking about him if you want,” Wayne manages another concrete smile, but he means it. Steve always waits for him to bring up Eddie first, like he doesn’t want to remind him if it ain’t on his mind, but Wayne likes to be reminded. It’s nice to feel like he’s not the only one missing him. “But the game was yesterday and y’know the cable’s out.”

“Yep, got it covered. I uh, I taped it,” Steve fishes a VHS tape from his back pocket. Fancy. Wayne would worry about him using that for his sake, but he has a feeling Steve’s folks aren’t around enough to notice.

“The Colts win?”

Steve flips the tape around, “Haven’t watched it, so we can bet on it if you’re feeling lucky.”

It doesn’t feel so dry and heavy when Wayne laughs a bit then, waving Steve to go ahead and start up the TV. He already caught the game on the radio, but he bets on the Colts anyway. Loser’s supposed to do the dishes after they scrounge together some soup, but Steve does them anyway.

Wayne would make a stink about it but he can tell Steve just wants to help, to feel like he’s helping. Same thing when the Henderson boy comes around to see him, wanting to hear all the stories, even the scary ones. So Wayne doesn’t mind letting Eddie’s friends feel like they’re helping him.

His nephew didn’t have many friends. Real, cover-your-six kinda friends. The boys he played his music with, they’ve come by a couple times, Wayne always liked Jeff despite the racket. That older fella that’s doing time now, Wayne wasn’t too fond of. And some of Eddie’s dungeon buddies he talked about were the only few.

Now, casual acquaintances? Anybody who didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he had an empty spot at his table? Sure, Eddie had those in spades.

His boy was good at that, putting on a good old show for his crowd, on a stage to keep his distance. That damn Al did him in good, never could trust easily, having his old man pop up and drag him into his mess before he took off again. And Eddie’s poor momma would’ve done right by him, if she hadn’t gotten sick so young.

Took Wayne a long time to get Eddie to depend on him, to trust this was his place to stay and he didn’t have to earn it, Wayne wasn’t just filling his head to scheme something out of him.

Love ain’t a transaction that way. He wasn’t ever any good at saying it, but he tried to show Eddie the best he could.

His boy though, always carried a debt with him. Like he owed Wayne something for taking him in, had to graduate quick and make it outta here, do something with the better life he gave him. Al dug him in so deep, Eddie stayed roped into whatever his latest scheme was (the cars, the dealing, the gambling, thank God Eddie wasn’t there when the goddamn robbery went wrong, 25 to life) like maybe it’d be enough to keep him from running off again.

The odds have never been in favor of people like them, poor folk in a town that’s stuck in its ways, where everybody’s just like their old man, but Al made his choices and Wayne made his. Rest their mother’s soul, she did her best. Part of Wayne was relieved when Al got locked up, at least Wayne had a better chance of keeping Eddie from going down the same path, try to raise him right.

Being a Munson wasn’t a crime. He didn’t owe a darn thing to anybody. Eddie could graduate at his own pace, play whatever games and music he wanted, dress however, that didn’t mean he was up to no good. And a lot of boys get into dealing for a little easy extra money around here, he was gonna grow out of that just like Wayne did.

It worked until all this mess.

That’s why Eddie ran off after what happened to the poor Cunningham girl. He gets spooked when something goes wrong, like it’ll be the last straw he can’t make up for so he runs off. Like the first time he didn’t make senior year, went and hid out with that Rick fella that Wayne never did like, got Eddie deep into that business he tried to keep a secret.

‘Course Wayne knew. He knows exactly what and where his boy hides. If those damn cops weren’t tailing him, he would’ve gone straight to get him.

That was before he knew it would turn into all of this. Now he wishes he would’ve done it anyway. Gone right to Eddie, told him it wasn’t his fault that everything got all turned upside down. Told him he knew he was innocent right from the get-go, and got him away from this rotten old town.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t go get his boy.

So now he’s just trying to be there for Eddie’s boys, since he can’t.

“You have a night shift tonight right? Gonna put on a pot of coffee,” Steve says once he’s finished up the dishes.

Wayne hums. There’s usually more noise going on during these visits. Steve’s still alright at carrying on, even without the Henderson boy’s chatter to fill any gaps.

It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.

Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.

“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”

Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”

That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.

Then bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.

“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.

“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”

“Oh, I can use a diff—”

“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”

Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.

Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.

“Y’know, he used to put everything in that sucker. Soda pop, soup, cereal, you name it,” Wayne shakes his head, mouth twitching into a smile, “I’d have to wrestle it away from him just to give it a good washing. It’s well loved, alright. Leaks now.”

As if on cue, Steve has to grab a napkin to sit underneath it.

Wayne lets out an amused hum, “He uh— Didn’t have much stability ‘fore he came to live with me, so he’d get real attached to things like that.”

Carried around a stuffed dragon they picked up at a garage sale ‘til Wayne couldn’t sew the wings back on anymore. Never wanted to throw anything away. Got real anxious about Wayne going to work sometimes, even when he was too old for a sitter. Held onto him saying “Stay home just today, Dad, please.” Which, he didn’t mind Eddie calling him that. It always softened him up, made him give in. Wishes now that he’d told Eddie upfront. Maybe he never would’ve stopped.

“Thought for sure he’d marry that damn guitar one day.”

Steve nearly sputters his coffee, laughing at that, “Yeah, those two are made for each other.”

It’s nice, seeing the way that story lit Steve up. Sorta like his boy can still make someone happy. Hurts like hell that he ain’t here to do it himself, but Wayne was always good at telling stories. That’s where Eddie learned it from.

“I’m uh,” Steve deflates after a minute, looking down at the mug, “God, I’m just really sorry, Wayne.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too, Steve,” he says, because, well.

Wayne gets the feeling that his boy was Steve’s boy too.

Read the rest on Ao3

[epnona-the-wisp]

Sage’s story! This entry is slightly less tragic than normal as well as creepier than I remembered

[hornedmagpieart]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish & Nikolai Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Nikolai (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare), Original Background Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Military Inaccuracies, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Blood and Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Author Has Never Played Call Of Duty, No Beta We Die Like OG 141, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Vampire Nikolai (Call of Duty) Series: Part 2 of All We Have Is Time Summary:

This was their last stop before finally returning home to base. Soap was always surprised by how much one could long for the mediocre facilities of their barracks, but he did. He always did.

Despite everything, he was happy with his life. He'd been working his ass off for the last couple of years to get here. Enlisting the day he turned 18, working hard and pushing himself in every part of his life. Reaching his goal of becoming a demolitions expert, and now, after realizing he has an affinity for the sniper rifle as well, finally being able to do this out in the field. Watching over his squad, keeping them safe. It was bittersweet knowing that he might be leaving them soon. As soon as he got back he was going to start the process of trying to join the SAS, and if everything went according to plan he could be getting a transfer in a couple of months.

-- or --

Soap is young and inexperienced, and the simple recon mission doesn't end well

[lightasthesun]

I've been LOVING going through the codywan kiss and sleep bingo and all its happy domesticity and silly miscommunications and BEAUTIFULLY crafted storylines however I have now reached a point of detoxification. I need some real good codywan ANGST.

[into-my-cringe-era-letsgoo]

First Meetings

haha I meant to post this with a small snippet of a story but then I realized I'm terrible at writing...

But the basis of that little snippet was that Nana was having a hard time having customers for her little bakery/market stall because Mei'fwa racism (also added on the fact that I want to have Ru'uan and Tu'la to have a rivalry with eachother. They haven't liked each other in years.) And then Aphmau comes up because she smells something really good, stumbles upon Nana and buys a tasty Peach Bread. In here, Nana would introduce herself as Ms. Momoko, kind of like a stage name.

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain XXVI

Master list link here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

Warnings: unconsciousness, restraints, blood, wounds, gore, cpr, mcd, grief

As the light faded around Nova and Jude, a shout from the crowd gathered outside of Sluagh erupted. Nova smiled grimly as she stared at Jude’s unconscious form at her feet. She had won. They had won. She sagged with relief as chaos erupted around her.

She could hear the sounds of civilians bursting through Sluagh’s doors. Heard the sounds of Henry talking to the civilians as they arrived. Heard the sound of cuffs fastening around Jude’s wrist. They had won.

“He won’t be hurting anyone anymore where he’s going,” the chief of police said as he and a group of civilian policeman carted Jude away. Jude lay still and unmoving as they cuffed him to both rails of the gurney. “Thank you for saving us, ma’am.”

Henry nodded, his good hand gripping Nova’s shoulder tightly. “Just get him out of here before he wakes up. Or he won’t be waking up.”

The chief nodded. “Really, thank you. Both of you for everything. Thanks to Liam,” the chief paused, and looked to Nova, “I am sorry.”

Nova rose to her feet in an instant. Liam. She slipped on the tile as she raced out of Sluagh. “Where are you going?” Henry called after her. He hurried to catch up.

“Where is he? Where is he, Henry?” Nova didn’t look back. She had to get to Liam.

Henry caught up. “I’ll go with you. He’s…he’s in the town square.”

Not far from here at all. Nova didn’t stop running until she could see the small crowd gathered around the stage at the base of the flag pole. Didn’t stop until they turned and stared at her. The mayor stepped forward. “He was always trying to protect us. We didn’t know. We believed. Oh God, we believed the monster. Liam is the true hero. I am so sorry for you loss, both of you.”

Nova elbowed past the mayor, not caring that she knocked the woman to the ground. “He’s not dead. I can save him. I can save him.” She scrambled to release the lever on the flag pole. Her fingers shook and trembled with exhaustion.

As she growled her frustration for a third time, a hand appeared on hers. She looked up to see the man with the red hair that Liam had saved all those years ago. “Let me help,” he said gently.

Nova stepped back, as she stared up at Liam’s body. His broken, bloody body. “Hang on, baby,” she murmured. Henry and three other people Liam had saved joined Nova on the stage and carefully they lowered his body to the ground. Henry choked back a sob as they gently laid Liam down. His pale, empty eyes stared up at nothing. His blood was still wet on the corner of his lips, the time freeze Jude had placed on him only just ending. The cavernous hole in his chest was larger than Nova remembered, deeper than she thought. She tried scan his pain, to scan how many injuries she had to heal once she brought him back, but she couldn’t find anything. She just had to get him breathing again. Then she could scan him once more.

This wasn’t real. He wasn’t dead. She could save him. She quickly cut away the tape from his wrists, freeing his hands. “Come on, baby, come on.” Nova began to glow again. “Come back to me. Please, come back to me.”

Nova desperately tried to shove her power into him. “Come on, baby, come on,” she repeated, trying to shove her light into anywhere she could. She ignored the tears streaming down her face. Ignored the crowd that had gathered around her. She only had eyes for Liam.

“Please, please, please,” she begged. She desperately tried to heal the hole in his chest, to reknit the skin, and to heal his destroyed heart. She desperately tried to call his soul back. “Come back to me, please, Liam. Please, God, let him come back to me.”

Liam’s words from yesterday came back to her. Heartbeat. She needed a heart beat. “Start compressions,” she ordered Henry.

Henry looked at her, tears filling his own eyes. “Nova, I can’t. Nova, I—“

“Then get out of here if you aren’t going to help me,” Nova roared angrily as she placed her hands over the hole in Liam’s chest. Her fingers barely spanned the hole’s entirety. She gave one tentative pump, crying out as his, somehow still warm, blood flowed beneath her hand. “Please. Please. Please.”

Henry didn’t leave. None of the watching crowd did. But none of them tried to help her. Why was no one helping her? “Nova,” Henry’s gentle voice came.

“Don’t say it,” she said as she glowed again. Surely this counted. Surely her powers would work now. But as she tried to shove her powers in once again, tried to scan where needed to be healed, and she came up blank, Nova froze. No. No. NO. NONONONONO.

“I think it’s truly impossible to heal the dead. Death is the final thing that claims us all. Your power is life and to bring life. But you cannot bring life back where there is none.”

“Nova, you said it yourself,” Henry said slowly, his hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Jude took his heart,” she said as it felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest.

“He’s gone, Nova,” Henry said as he knelt down next to her. “Liam is dead.”

Liam is dead. Liam is dead. LIAM IS DEAD.

Nova wasn’t sure if she was screaming in her head or out loud. All she knew is that she was screaming. She threw herself across Liam’s chest, not caring if she was covered in blood, or if other people were there. She didn’t care about anything anymore because Liam was dead.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, sobbing on Liam. She held his face, stroked his hair. Did anything to try and coax him back to her. Did anything but close his eyes. She couldn’t bear to close his eyes. Because this was the last time she would stare into them.

But he wasn’t there. They were just eyes. Eyes of the palest blue. Eyes the color of the sky at dawn. But they weren’t his eyes anymore. Because Liam was dead.

Tags: @dutifullykrispyland@jesssmolfur@parad0xical2@st0rmm@keeper-of-all-the-random-things

@pigeonwhumps@gala1981@allylovessweets@whumpitywhumpwhump @giggly-evil-puppy

@cravesunconditionallove @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @ay5ksal @celestialsoyeon

@hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @knightinbatteredarmor @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@whump-me-harder

[hp-mcd-fest]

what's up 2023

This year's timeline:

Prompting: June 1 to June 24 Claiming: July 1 to August 25 Submissions due: August 30 Posting begins: September 1

kill you soon, darlings 💜💀💚

[vylad-romeaves-autism]

I want to go into a bit more detail about some of the things me and @whorencezvahl have talked about for Vincent in our rewrite because we’ve accidentally made him a semi major supporting character to the main plot of our rewrite. So be prepared for rambling about Vincent that may or may not make complete sense, none of this is going to be in complete timeline order for our rewrite but it’s all some of the more important things. Warning again, this is going to be long rambles about our rewrite Vincent. Also some of this is just going to be brief explanations, so feel free to send an ask if you want to learn more

☆Like mentioned previously, Vincent was previously once Shad’s kind of right hand man and the first person Shad ever turned into a shadow knight. Shadow knights originally in our rewrite was kind of a way that Shad would be able to keep his friends alive/keep them around longer(both of the first two shadow knights he created ended up gaining their immortality, though Vincent is the only one we’ve fleshed out) Vincent at some point has met all of the other Divine Warriors, but doesn’t know them all as personally as he knew Shad.

★Vincent at one point did end up pulling away from Shad (as of writing this we haven’t talked about when or what caused it, we jump around timeline wise a lot so somethings do not have answers right now) and ended up going with his brother, who ended up becoming the first lord of Meteli. Stuff happens and Vincent ends up killing his brother and gaining his immortality, Vincent then chooses to stay in Meteli basically as long as there is a Meteli. He basically vows to always makes sure Meteli is fine and nothing bad happens to it, but he refuses to become a lord.

☆It’s not an entirely well known thing that Vincent is an immortal Shadow Knight, even through he’s been in Meteli since it was founded. He’s kind of in a sense more kept a secret. The current lord will obviously know that he’s an immortal shadow knight, but majority of the village doesn’t know. He has a good bit of say regarding the village, but he’s not fully in charge. He has full veto power regarding who becomes the next lord, so if he doesn’t think the person would be good to be lord then they won’t be. And most lords just know not to argue with him about that.

★Now actually onto stuff that is more relevant to rewrite. Due to him just being concerned about keeping track of possible resurgence of the Divine Warriors, he keeps track of Shad’s descendants (of course to an extent, mainly the ones who could potentially wield Shad’s relic) He doesn’t track the others descendants, mainly because there are not many descendants to keep track of its mainly reincarnations at this point. I’ll make a post later about how relics work in the rewrite.

☆Joh at some point just comes home with like preteen Laurence and Vincent has like one conversation with him and takes away two things. 1) at some point in the near future the Lucan family is going to completely die out and 2)this child is the reincarnation of Shad. Which obviously isn’t a good sign. And unluckily for him this won’t be the last time he meets one of the new divine warriors(labeled later on at least to refer to them by us, the relic holders)

★Last thing(not really this is all I want to write because my brain is going to much) he’s one of the last few shadow knights who can correctly make a shadow knight by Shad’s standards!!

[faejilly]

so, like a million years ago (aka over a year, time is a lie, shh, I refuse to double check exact dates) @awaylaughing prompted me for words! LOOK! WORDS!

Camellia (my destiny is in your hands) + Mass Effect (dealer's choice on all else) [OG prompt list]

This is, uh, perhaps more legacy than destiny, but it makes sense in my head. Hopefully it translates? Opening of ME2, F!Shepard, Joker, & Kaidan (with a little bit of Shenko for the tragedy of it all).

All Shepard could hear was her own breath, ragged and stuttering and too sharp in her throat.

For the first time in her life, she hated space, hated the bright lights that blinded her, the fact that the stars were too far away to matter, that her ship was exploding, her people were dying, the enemy was fleeing, its job done, the rest of them too small to matter, and she couldn't hear any of it.

Her heart beat so hard her ears throbbed in time, her breath too fast to match, too small, too shallow, yet she could still hear it beneath the whine of overlapping alarms. Her eyes burned with the flash of almost every alert possible simultaneously lighting up the edges of her vision, her HUD desperate to show her what she needed to know, desperate for her to fix it, help it, help them, fix them, fix everything, but still too dim to show clearly against the flares of lasers and oxygen burning burning burning.

Joker was swearing, the edge of pain clear in his voice, a hiss and a spark just audible beneath the rasp of his voice, and she was reasonably sure he'd just broken through a wall panel to access the system directly. As if he could refuse everything that had just happened, as if he could pilot an escape pod to come get her, as if his will was strong enough to turn around something without an engine or steering.

She almost laughed, felt it catch in her chest. If anyone could, it would be Joker.

“Shepard?” It was Alenko, his voice off-rhythm, unsteady, somehow both too fast and too slow, too low and too loud and yet so hard to hear over the silence around her. “Shepard, can you report? Status,” his voice caught, a swallow she could feel, could hear, “Shepard, please, damn it, Shepard.”

Her comms were still on.

Everyone could hear her breathing, Alenko had heard that almost laugh. Impossible though it seemed, that slight tremor of a breath wasn’t too faint for him, not with the way he always listened, always paid attention.

Especially to her, just as she’d always done the same for him.

She could hear Alenko’s breathing now, steady, let it steady her own, let herself pretend for just one inhale, one exhale, that there was something someone could do.

Something that Alenko could do, her Lieutenant, her XO, the best marine she’d ever worked with, that beautiful studied calm of his backing her up. He’d crossed every t, dotted every i, noticed every misstep around him, just so he could help someone take the next one and keep going…

He’d kept her going.

He’d keep them going.

He was the only one who could.

“Suit malfunction.”

Her voice sounded… normal.

Fucking N training.

She hated Anderson for a moment, almost as much as she hated space. Got her killed, the two of them, and trained her so well along the way that she couldn’t even panic about it, not when it would hurt someone else.

Kaidan.

She had to clench her jaw, close her eyes.

I’m sorry.

She opened her eyes.

“That final attack spread us all in different directions.” Her trajectory was almost exactly the opposite of Joker’s pod. Even if he could manage to steer the damn thing out of sheer fucking spite, he’d never be able to catch up.

Fucking physics. Newton was a bitch, and she’d tell him so herself when she met him.

Soon, now.

“Weaver,” Alenko’s voice was hollow in a way she’d never wanted to hear, especially not between the two of them, not when he was saying her name.

She just barely managed to mute her mic before she made a noise she couldn’t repress, rage and sorrow and cold, something that hurt her ears even more than the still whining alerts, something she couldn’t let him hear, not now, not like this, not as the last thing he’d ever–

She bit her tongue so hard she could taste copper and turned off the alerts so her mic wouldn’t pick them up, ignored the way the O2 sensor flashed as if it wanted to refuse her command.

“Get them home, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, ma’am.” His voice was solid this time, solemn, and she hated to think what it had cost him to put everything else away. “Understood.”

“Thank you, Kaidan,” she whispered. She thought she heard his breath again, just for an instant, something warm and alive and oh so far away, but then she cut her comm lines completely. She couldn’t bear to hear him say good-bye, would not allow him to hear what was going to happen next, what was already happening, the cold and the weight and the effort it took to inhale, the tremble in her arms, the battle she was about to lose to keep herself still, to stop herself from desperately scrabbling at the edges of her suit to try and find some way to fix everything that was broken.

Alenko would save as many of her people as could be saved, she had no doubts.

She just wasn’t one of them.

Good-bye, Kaidan.

[candy8448]

Febwhump day 13

"You weren't supposed to get hurt"

(Legend, Warriors, Wind)

TW: torture, blood, broken bones, waterboarding, beating, temporary main character death

Not a proper chapter but just ny notes i made for what o would have written

[claybyte]

one thing about me is that i never EVER read major character death. i cannot handle that emotionally

[zarnzarn]

the angsty prequel to this (ik there's plotholes now but shh I'll fix it in a bit) that i accidentally made after getting possessed and writing for 3 hours straight for what was supposed to be a short hc post jfc. angst ahead (brain damage talk, temporary mcd), but there's a happy ending!

-

zeus saying he's going to make athena's "kingdom fall" doesn't make sense unless you consider. the lightning bolt she takes to the face gives her brain damage.

no one notices at first. Athena brushes it all off, goes to odysseus, oversees their long-awaited reunion. stays in their house after- because it's not like they'll be around forever, after all. and she can do her work just as well from down here- there's no need, to be honest, to go back to Mount Olympus. anyone who needs her comes to Ithaka, and she's content, for the first time in a very, very long time.

and then one day odysseus comes across her seizing on the floor.

she doesn't know the details of what happened- only remembers the first terrified scream of horror, remembers warm hands on her face and being carried to a bed, remembers Penelope's voice shaking as she drags a wet cloth across her forehead. comes to confused and mute minutes later, wandering around and stumbling into walls, unresponsive to the voices begging her to stop, to rest.

finally, she reaches a familiar room with a familiar face, and she touches Telemachus on the cheek lightly before collapsing onto the nearest chair. panicked voices chatter above her and calloused palms lift her face up to meet her own grey eyes, worried and scared, and it finally dawns on her that something has gone terribly wrong.

(later she will find out odysseus held her and sobbed the whole night, knowing more than anyone else what had happened to her and what it meant; he'd taken the throne at thirteen for the same reason, after all)

(later she will find out that penelope wrote to every ally they had within the hour for healers and literature; letting more than half their cleverly planned schemes fall through in exchange for it as she begged)

(later, she will find out that telemachus went running barefoot through the market, banging on doors and shouting for the healers and making the alarmed roused villagers sing prayers for her even though it was the middle of the night)

she recovers under the attention; court abandoned in favour of emergency, odysseus proclaims when he bullies her into placing her head in his lap so he can massage her aching head, not having left her side for six straight days in a row. penelope comes in every few hours, feeding her the olives from the wedding bed she lies in, unable to move, and brushes out her hair. telemachus barely shows during the days, but he comes in every evening without fail, curling up by her side and hugging her tight.

but it happens again. and again and again, and each time she regains consciousness in one of the royal family's arms, no matter where she was at the time. she never remembers it, only has the disgusting taste in her mouth and dried spit on her chin and tears in the eyes of those around her to know it happened.

she loses time as well- has no idea how long it's been happening until she becomes aware of the sound of Odysseus' calm, steady voice dragging her out of a trance, gentle fingers tracing her palm as they stand next to an unassuming tapestry. she'll be walking one moment and be lost to everything around her the next, staring at nothing.

Odysseus has done this all before, she realises one day, when he seamlessly pulls her out of another relapse and ropes her into a cheerful, easy conversation about goats that Athena keeps having stilted replies to.

"Do you know how to do this because-" She murmurs, and his eyes go wide and then grieving.

"Yes," He murmurs sadly, and Athena feels guilt settle in her belly at making him go through this again. He massages at her temples, and she closes her eyes, listening to the smile in his voice. "But there is no hardship, Pallas Athena. The sadness is that you have to go through this, not for the taking care of a cherished one."

"And anyways, Laertes suffered madness in the wake of a terrible fever and the stress of a famine," Penelope says without looking up from the newest scrolls they'd received. Athena feels the guilt worsen at the sleep bags under her eyes, when she knew the reason and just didn't have the courage to- "Your sudden collapses could be due to this one witch curse we found, or perhaps a-"

"It was Zeus."

The room falls silent as two heads slowly turn to look at her.

"What?" Odysseus says quietly, with barely withheld rage.

Athena takes a shuddering breath. "I am sorry, my Penelope, that I didn't have the courage to tell you before." Penelope leaves the desk to cross the room to her, and Athena feels tears prick at her eyes as the queen takes her hand. "But when I petitioned the court of Olympus, Zeus did not take kindly to everyone agreeing to me over him- and such was his punishment. To make-"

Her breath hitches in a sob and she notes with surprise that she's crying. Penelope and Odysseus are both crying with her, staring down in horror.

"To make my kingdom fall, he said," Athena whispers, shoulders jerking oddly as she forces it out, acknowledges what he'd done. "But my kingdom is the mind and-"

Odysseus lets out an animal cry of sorrow and descends on her, pulling her to his chest as she breaks down into shivering tears, the fear running through her as she realises the scale, the enormity of the consequences. Penelope stands by the bed and trembles with anger for a full minute, before she crumples too, crawling into their bed and pressing Athena tight between them.

"I forget things," She confesses in a whisper, shaking. "I blank out during fights, cannot recall certain strategies- I- I do not know how much worse-"

"Easy, darling, easy," Penelope whispers in a rush, stroking her face. Odysseus really is so lucky to have her as a wife, she thinks disjointedly, pressing into the gentleness. "Don't say that. It won't get worse."

"And even if it does," Odysseus continues, pressing a kiss to her cheek, where the lichtenberg scars cross her right eye, to her brow. "We will write down everything you know, copy it a hundred times and keep it safe. So you will never forget."

"And we will find you a Lytrakas owl, to keep you safe when we are no longer here to do it," Penelope murmurs, lips brushing Athena's neck as she speaks. She relaxes finally under the combined reassurances, at the solutions and possibilities that would work, finding a content she has never achieved before in their embrace. "We will keep you safe, our goddess."

And they do. When she teaches the children of Ithaka sparring, at least one of them is there, ready to intervene smoothly if they sense something wrong. They make the books they promised her, and she sends it to her realm, so she doesn't lose them. They cannot come with her when she has to travel- she wouldn't ask it of any of them- but Telemachus is always humming a hymn when she's away so she remembers where to return. When she dissociates in the middle of talking, Penelope guides her over to the loom so she can weave until she feels better, muscle memory kicking in enough for it to help the gradual lift of the fog.

Odysseus always somehow knows when she's about to have a seizure, in the forty years after that they spend together. In all her time in Ithaka, she never woke up from one without the familiar gravely cadence of Odysseus singing under his breath above her, head in his lap and Telemachus perched on her thighs or Penelope by her shoulders.

-

But it can't last forever.

Odysseus kicks her out of the room when he dies, Penelope's breath already slowing on the bed behind him, peaceful in the way that means she won't survive the night. They all know Odysseus will go with her, and Athena feels herself tremble as Odysseus gently guides her outside.

"You are not watching us pass," He tells her firmly, as she opens her mouth to scream at him. He's an old man now, but his eyes are the same, and the different versions of him flash in front of her eyes as he gives her a crooked smile. "I will not have you watch, are you crazy?"

"Odysseus," She chokes out, gripping tight onto her spear.

"My beautiful, wonderful goddess," Odysseus murmurs adoringly, leaning up to press their foreheads together. She sobs. "Thank you. For everything. And know-" His breath hitches. "-know that, for the rest of your existence, remember it- that you were loved."

"How can I ever forget?" She smiles back through the tears. "I will never be the same."

"My Athene," He whispers, swaying them back and forth. She closes her eyes, trembling, and pulls him into their last embrace, last touch.

"You will always be my favourite," She confesses, half-laugh, half-sob.

Odysseus smirks at that, a trace of smugness, then turns to a sobbing, chuckling Telemachus, who's also been kicked out, pulls them both in a hug. "We will meet again, my son," he murmurs. "But Penelope is waiting for me now. Goodnight."

He closes the door, two bright last flashes of smiles aimed at them as it shuts and Athena and Telemachus both fall to pieces.

Telemachus takes twice the care of her than his parents did, somehow juggling ruling the kingdom and spending as much time as he can with her as he can. His wife is sly and mischievous, more fox than owl- but Athena loves her too, just as she loves their children. Telemachus goes with a smile on his face and an arrow in his heart, having taken an arrow for someone else, holding Athena's hand as he laughs for the last time.

It is horrible and she wanders around desolately for days, grieving. But then she sees bright eyes spying on her from behind a bush, carefully watching her to see if she's alright and Athena smiles and goes back to continue the legacy.

-

For 500 years, Ithaka does not fall- when it does, she makes sure the grey-eyed children all make it off the island, scattering on the mainland as at last, her job is done.

Which means there is nothing left for her here, and it is time to go back to Mount Olympus.

She's met with teasing quips and pointed comments, but general ignorance, no one bothering to ask where she was. After almost six hundred years of care, it feels untethering and strange, but the grief of losing Ithaka makes her relieved for it, even if she has to lie down sometimes, press her face into the roots of the olive tree scattered about in her realm and pretend there are three sets of hands in her hair, a familiar voice humming above her.

How did you do it, she wants to ask Penelope. How did you survive knowing what you were missing, she wants to ask Odysseus. Will you sit with me one last time, she wants to ask Telemachus.

Eventually, she can no longer bear the quiet, and one evening she sets out and crosses the pantheon floor to go gently sit down in Apollo's room.

Artemis is there, slouched on the floor with mud in her hair and an arrow in her eye as Apollo chides her. They both look up when she comes in, bowing and worriedly asking if something was wrong.

"Nothing," she says, ignoring the pang of sadness that that would be the only reason she was here. But the idea of leaving back to the books written in Odysseus' horrible chickenscratch penmanship is worse, and she takes a tentative seat in the corner. "Continue your work."

They do so hesitantly, conversation slower and interspersed with bouts of asking her if she wanted ambrosia or a new dish or something while she was here. She declines.

She feels awkwardness radiating off all three of them as she leaves an hour later, but it doesn't stop her from coming back again, stubborn. She will hold a conversation this time- it has been two decades since Ithaka, but that is nothing to her, and she cannot have forgotten how so soon.

Apollo seems to have prepared for the same thing this time, lighting up with a pleased grin like he wasn't sure she would come. "Enter!" He says cheerfully. "Come here, give me your wisdom on this piece I've been composing- I know, I know, owls are not songbirds, but just see if you can help, it's driving me mad-"

Athena closes her mouth and listens to the melody quietly. Thinks about how Telemachus' third daughter would have spun it, added her Ithakan folk style to it, interspersed the perfection with carefree, imperfect beats.

"May I?" She asks, holding her hands out, and Apollo's mouth drops, even as he scrambles to hand her the lyre. She concentrates, trying to pull the melody out from the strings. "Here," she says, manifesting her spear and shield and handing it to an increasingly wild-eyed Apollo. "Bang them together. Create a tempo."

They create something of a passing song in the next few hours until Athena's headache makes its way to the forefront and she has to retreat. Apollo accompanies her across the floor to her room, pressing herbs onto her even as he chatters a mile a minute, excitedly going on and on about new ideas and begging Athena to come by again. She smiles, briefly, and promises to return when she is free, going back to her pallet under the olive trees.

(She cannot bear to sleep anywhere else.)

The next day, Apollo is busy creating new songs and she knows better than to disturb him. She turns and goes to his twin's realm instead, shedding her armour for bark and a bow. Artemis and her women look as equally terrified as Apollo did at the start, looking at her like she's lost her mind, but they all straighten up when Athena raises an eyebrow and silently descend on the night.

"You must teach me!" Artemis enthuses at the end of it. She does not do anything other than scowl often, but she looks more like her twin than ever now, as she beams up at her. "I never knew there were so many strategies, how much smoother-"

"Peace," Athena chuckles, amused. "I will teach you, sister. Next fortnight?"

"Aye," Artemis says, hair matted and covered in filth, eyes sparkling.

"Here," Athena says, taking out her own ribbon- one of the many she has from Penelope, braided in her hair from all those years ago- and turns Artemis around to tie her mess of a mane out of her eyes. "Do not impede your vision in the name of wildness."

"Okay," Artemis squeaks quietly, and Athena snorts and squeezes her shoulder as she departs.

She sits in Aephastus' forge next, watching him create weapon after weapon, with the best of each round being blessed onto a blacksmith in the mortal world.

"Come to see if my work is up to par, Pallas Athena?" Aephastus says self-deprecatingly, a flash of resigned hurt in his eyes.

"No. I wish to learn," Athena decides suddenly, pushing herself up and removing her helmet at the blast of heat that comes from the forge as she nears. "It is shameful, I think, that I know not how my own tools are made."

Aephastus stares at her with surprise, then his kind eyes crinkle into a smile. "Only if you let me replace that," He nods to her admittedly rather dented helmet. "I have been wanting to fix your armour to something respectable for centuries."

Athena laughs.

Of course, once it is done, she has to use it. It fills her with excitement she had almost forgotten, the idea of a good, difficult spar, and she barges into Aphrodite's realm and bangs on the edge of the bed with her new spear, making the occupants screech and jump in fright.

"Good evening," She nods at Aphrodite, who looks to the side and then back at her as if she'll find an explanation somehow, stunned. She turns to her brother, and tries on a grin. "Ares, my brother. Would you care to spar? Aephastus has gifted me this new set and I find myself eager to test it out."

"...Are you fucking possessed?" Ares asks her, flabbergasted, and she clicks her tongue and smacks him upside the head.

"Yes or no?" She says, crossing her hands.

"Y- yes, yes!" Ares blurts out, straightening up. He looks something approaching disbelieving excitement, a small, tentative grin appearing on his face. "You are... not joking, right?"

"Do I look like I joke?" Athena jokes, smiling. Ruffles his hair in a bout of fondness. "You are the only one who will actually give me a good fight, as erratic as you are. I look forward to it."

"What did I FUCKING MISS?" Aphrodite shrieks after her as she goes. "Wha- Athena, get back here, you better have not fallen in love while I wasn't looking-!"

But Athena's not ready to face Aphrodite just yet, so she takes advantage of their height difference and strides back to her realm as her sister chases her, shouting.

The next day, they meet in the arena, and Athena feels herself freeze up as soon as she steps in. Sees the lightning scorch marks on the ground she had almost forgotten, and cannot move.

"ATHENA!" Ares booms, snapping her out of it. "TODAY YOU WILL MEET YOUR DEFEAT AT MY HANDS AT LAST!"

"WHY ARE YOU SO ANNOYING," She shouts back automatically, and Ares bursts out in a peal of laughter, surprised out of him. She knows he has three aspects- the boyish glory-seeker, the soldier filled with bloodlust, the hardened warrior- but Athena thinks the first one suits him best.

He readjusts his grip on his sword and grins. "Begin!"

-

She continues this, finding a strange happiness she never had before in meeting all the other gods, major and minor. She'd never known how intimidated they all were by her, but they open up readily enough, bringing her peace for a little while as she sits with them.

(She avoids Aphrodite, who is getting increasingly more frazzled by the day as she fails to find a hidden lover that does not exist and then switches to trying to find Athena a companion when it is clear that there is no one, in a comic game of chase around the realms that is a great source of amusement to everyone else.

She avoids Hermes too, because it hurts too much to see him. But she leaves him a book of riddles once in a while, when he's away, and he always takes it.)

Hera walks in her room one day, with her train of peacocks and attendants.

"God-Queen," Athena bows, setting her weaving down.

"Athena," Hera nods back. "I hear you have been visiting your siblings."

Athena nods, confused. "Yes?"

Hera studies her and Athena shifts, wondering what she's seeing. "The Pantheon is no longer silent, you know. The Olympians meet in the court almost every day, sharing their gifts with each other. Something I have found out is because of you."

Athena has no idea where this is going.

Hera shifts closer, opening her mouth to say something, then her eyes catch on the weaving, widening in shock. "What is that?"

Athena looks down, also unaware of what exactly she'd made. Then her heart skips a beat in fear.

"No, no, no, no," Athena snaps to her feet, shaking her hands out in dismissal, trying to stop the impending damage. "This is not what you think it is."

Hera's eyes are getting wider and wider, a manic grin on her face. "Athena! A wedding veil? Do you-"

"No!" Athena interrupts. "No, Hera, it's nothing like that, please-"

"Nonsense!" Hera says, grabbing it from her and holding it to the light, grinning wider than Athena has seen from her in years. "You must have made it for a reason. Do not worry daughter, I know you are shy, I will handle it all."

"Hera, it really is not like that!" She pleads. "I was simply weaving- I made a fisherman's garb the other day as well, it does not mean I want to get out into the sea!"

"Have you made the rest of the outfit as well?" Hera says excitedly, ignoring her as she moves to the wardrobe to rifle through. "Oh, Athena, how beautiful! Is this what you would like to wear?"

She pulls out a men's wedding outfit and Athena stops protesting to stare in disbelief. When had she made that?

"I must go announce this to the others," Hera squeals, bangles jangling. "Oh, I had almost given up on you, dear, but you have made me so happy today! I would have arranged something for you so long ago, why didn't you tell me you were interested?"

"Because I am not," She groans, pulling her hands down over her face. "Hera, please, I do not even have anyone-"

"Easily remedied," Hera dismisses her with the wave of a hand as she strides off. "Oh Aphrodite, you won't believe what I just found in your sister's closet! Look!"

A deafening din rises from the crowd there and Athena is forced to tackle Hera to the ground.

She laughs, surprisingly, and tosses the outfit over to Aphrodite, who snatches it up with a scream of excitement. Athena is immediately flanked by a crowd of screaming gods, each talking over the other, and Athena has to bellow at them all for two hours before the misunderstanding is cleared.

"Oh, but you really have outdone yourself with this one," Aphrodite gushes appreciatively as she lands next to a panting Athena. She turns it back and forth. "So soft, and such patterns! The Ithakan style, yes?"

Then her smile drops like a stone as she hears her own words and freezes, and Athena's stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat as she stops breathing. Aphrodite turns to her slowly, cold horror in her eyes, realisation solidifying at the terrified, raw, pained expression on Athena's face.

"The Ithakan style," She repeats in a whisper, horrified grief creeping into her voice. "Athena-"

Athena snatches the outfit from her and closes herself off in her realm, breathing hard in the dim blue light of the olive tree orchard. She suddenly realises she's holding the robes against her chest and unfolds it hurriedly to look at them.

It is the Ithakan style. It is, in fact, a mix of Penelope's and Odysseus' wedding outfits, in her size.

She throws it into a trunk and screams.

-

She does not know if Aphrodite tells Hera, but the latter does not stop coming by every day to pester her for details of an imaginary wedding.

So now she has three gods to avoid.

-

But of course, the effects of her affliction cannot be hidden forever. She gets up one day from the Pantheon floor to retrieve the threads from her room to be used in the game they are playing, and feels the room swim in a familiar, hated manner, and she only has a moment to feel dread before she tilts sideways and falls.

When she regains consciousness, she feels for a moment the delicate hands on her cheeks, the weight of a young man on her belly, the gravely singing above her- and then it dissipates and she becomes aware of shouting all around her.

"Can you hear me? Athena, can you hear me?" Hera says, shaking her. "WILL SOMEONE FIND APOLLO?"

Athena moans and pushes off the hands on her body, bruising in their panic. She pushes herself up, ignoring the dizziness. "Do not bother."

"Athena, what on Gaia was that?" Ares demands, ashen. "Have I injured you? What-"

"It is of no concern," Athena snaps, getting to her feet and glaring at them, mortification blazing through her. "All I need is rest. Goodnight."

They shout after her, but she's already at her room, closing the shields back up. It nearly knocks her out again to do so, and she barely drags herself to her bed before she collapses.

"What are you staring at?" Hypnos asks her the next day, confused. Athena blinks and realizes she's standing between the thrones, facing an odd patch of wall and losing time.

"Nothing," She sighs, and hefts her spear and walks away.

She fends off all other questions, curt and snapping, and the others uneasily let it go. She has not forgotten her purpose, after all, and will not do anything less than a perfect job, even with this impediment.

Yet-

"Athena," Aphrodite shakes her, and Athena blinks as she comes to herself. It is night, Pantheon bathed in blue and both of them in their nightclothes. Aphrodite is crying and Athena's face is wet.

"What-?" She murmurs.

"You were calling out for Odysseus," Aphrodite whispers, sounding stricken. "Asking him to stop hiding from training. Then laughing with nothing and telling Penelope to stop tormenting your allies."

It hits her straight in the sternum, making her gasp with grief that hits her so hard it feels new, and oh, she misses them, she misses them, she misses them so.

She sobs, and Aphrodite brings her close, holding her as she shakes.

"What is happening, sister? Why is this happening? Please, tell us," Aphrodite pleads. "We only want to help." She pushes her back to stare at her. "It cannot be just for them- something else happened to you."

Athena cannot reply for weeping, and Aphrodite's face crumples on seeing her tears. "You loved them." She says, her own voice catching tears. "You loved them so much, didn't you? That's who the dress was for. Them."

Athena sobs louder and doesn't reply.

-

Zeus' eldest daughter has not talked to him for over eight hundred years.

He still burns with anger some days, on remembering her insolence, her disrespect for his orders. Yet, now it has cooled off and he rather misses her quiet presence, her wit. She is angry with him in turn, cold and formal when they talk, never meeting his eyes.

"How fares Athena?" He asks casually one day. Hera stops removing her earrings and looks up at him sharply- she's been frosty with him since that day as well, disapproving of his actions. "I have not seen her in quite some time."

"That is of your own design," Hera replies blandly. "She spends time often with her siblings now. I am quite proud of her for it, actually- it is no mean a feat to get the entire Pantheon to sit down and indulge in few games without bloodshed."

"Games?" Zeus frowns. "With the others? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"

"Well, if you left your realm ever, you would know." Hera says distractedly, shrugging as she takes off her necklace. "They gather in the courtroom, usually."

The wind blows in, blows out.

Zeus ponders on this in silence, thinking of what to do next. Perhaps he should extend the first hand, since she had followed all the rules. He remembers her on the ground, beaten and burning, one hand extended to beg him to let that insolent hero she had pinned all her hopes on leave Ogygia. Frowns again in discomfort at the memory.

Her gamble paid off. Even as the Greek Pantheon declined in power, the story of her hero persisted to give the gods power, to keep them remembered.

Wise Athena, he thinks fondly. Smarter than him, he can admit now.

Zeus is just about to ask Hera if Athena would appreciate a spar when the rustle of fabric past the door of their realm catches his attention.

"Who is there?" He calls out, and Hera turns as well to look. No one enters and they both look to each other with a frown.

Quick footsteps sound out and both of them push themselves to their feet immediately, armed and tense as they rush to the door.

"Athena?" Hera calls out, confused, as they look down over the empty courtroom, Athena pacing erratically silently alone in the middle, no lights on. She does not reply. "Athena!"

Zeus feels foreboding creep up on him as they carefully walk down. "What are you doing up, Athena?" He calls out, voice authoritative. Hera glares at him, and he amends his tone, gentling it. "Is something the matter?"

Athena does not stop walking, at that same hurried pace, turning around at the end of the hall and continuing back towards them, ignoring his words. Zeus feels irritation spark, but the sudden glimpse of his daughter's eyes makes the words die on his tongue, unseeing and glazed over. She does not have her armour on, and her hair is tangled and open, he suddenly realises, along with the growing certainty that something is wrong.

And then Athena drops to the ground and starts seizing.

"ATHENA!" They scream as one, and all the gods of the Pantheon come awake, lamps catching fire as they all come stumbling out of their rooms and realms. Zeus reaches out and holds her hands down as she starts clawing at herself, drawing blood. The others start shouting and crying around them, Athena's head snapping back and forth gruesomely, eyes bleeding ichor. "Athena, gather yourself!" He shouts at her. "Cease this- cease this at once, you are stronger than this!"

"She cannot hear you!" Hera cries, falling to her other side, trying to straighten Athena out from the fetal position she is curling into with painful, stuff jerks. "She never does- she doesn't-"

"This has happened before?" Zeus bellows, outraged. His answer comes in the form of Ares pulling her weapons off her body, the ones who can't help holding onto each other and hiding their faces in each other's shoulders or staring at Athena with fear as they sob.

Her arm slips Zeus' grip and swings at him erratically before he can grab it again. It nearly knocks him down, so powerful in its animal madness that he actually feels his aspect waver to half its size for a moment- but he is her father and he pulls himself together enough to stay standing, pinning her down again.

"No, let her go!" Apollo shouts as he sits down besides them in his night robes, flipping through an old book of some kind, barely holding in his own panic and fear. "Don't hold her down, give her space."

Zeus grimaces but lets her go, feeling nausea and fear rise within him as she writhes and twists, unhearing of Hera's desperate sobs for her to stop. "What is happening to her?" He demands, unable to watch. He is furious, lightning blazing in his hands as he itches to find the culprit, to find who dared to do this. "Who did this to her?"

"I do not know," Apollo says horrifically, lips pressed thin, eyes flicking up to her and then back down to the book. "But I found this in her realm- she apparently is aware of it, this is some sort of book of instructions on the affliction-"

"Give me that," Zeus growls, snatching it away, and flipping through it. "Go get a bed," He instructs, the other Olympians springing up to do so immediately, desperate to help. "Olive- olive branches, she wakes to branches. Get water- no, get ambrosia, get a cloth to wipe her face. A change of clothes. A cold compress, if she has fever. It will stop on its own, let it run its course- Muses, what is this?"

"A lullaby," Euterpe says, pulling the book down to scan it. "From old Ithaka, if I'm not mistaken."

The gods all stop and stare at her. "Ithaka?" Zeus repeats, flipping to the front of the book. "Who has written this-"

"PENELOPE!" Athena screams suddenly, making them all jump in fright. Her back arches to a painful degree, spit running down the side of her mouth as her eyes roll back in her head. "PENELOPE, TELEMACHUS-"

Aphrodite puts her hands over her ears and squeezes her eyes shut, just as Athena takes a deep breath in and screams louder than before, "ODYSSEUS!"

(In life, he had only failed her once. But now he is dead, and cannot come.)

"Odysseus, please," She moans, in the old Greek that has not been used in decades. "You promised to help, please- Penelope, where are- where is- Telemachus, please-"

Zeus feels his heart break as proud, strong Athena breaks down on the floor, calling for mortals clearly much dearer to her than they thought. But it's not the end of it- he flips through the book again, desperately searching for something to stop this, a cause, an enemy- and then he sees his own name.

Curse proud Zeus, may his life never be happy, may his legacy forever be tainted, Odysseus has written, the letters harsh and burning with fury, even though the curse means nothing from a mortal, even though he risked the ire of the gods writing it. Below it, in what must be Penelope's neat handwriting, an equally furious and clipped diagnosis is penned- brain damage, extensive but occasional, caused by a lightning bolt to the face, that targeted her realm's power and left her with seizures, memory loss and dissociation.

A lightning bolt to the face.

Zeus stands there numbly, as the Pantheon scrambles and chatters worriedly around him, hesitantly singing along to the lullaby in the book as Athena continues to shake, unresponsive. His fault. It is his fault that she is like this, that she is left reduced to calling for dead mortals, crying blood over her siblings' feet.

He did not mean to, he thinks, feeling small and pathetic and monstrous. He did not mean for this to happen- only wanted to teach her a lesson, keep his pride; had not meant for her realm to sustain damage for so long. He thought she'd healed. He thought she hadn't been hurt, past the scar on her face that he'd felt vaguely guilty about, from time to time.

How stupid he was.

"Athena," He whispers, aching to reach out, but she screams again and it's drowned out completely. His daughter. All his own, no longer his- because she was never angry at all, these past years; she simply no longer saw him as her father. And why should she, when he has done the unforgivable, when he has done what no other had managed to do, and broken her.

What has he done?

"We are here," Hera says desperately, taking Athena's head in her lap. Ares sings creakily next to her, offtune and shaking. "We are here, love."

"Odysseus," Athena wails, unseeing. "Penelope, Telemachus."

Zeus steps back to let the others rush in, each providing their own solutions, some calling to Athena entreatingly to guide her back to herself. He is not needed here- he does not deserve it, and knows not what more damage he will wreak.

I am sorry, he wants to tell her, as froth escapes her mouth like a rabid dog. I am so sorry, I beg forgiveness, my daughter, please let me fix it.

But she cannot hear him and Zeus raises his head to look for Hermes instead. The messenger god is standing at the very back, well out of view, with a blank face as he meets Zeus' gaze. He feels a surge of fury at the lack of caring, before he remembers that Athena's hero and his son were descendants of Hermes- and sees past the facade to see the other's gods multiplied distress at that fact, unable to come forward to help without possibly making it worse with the likeness.

Zeus inclines his head and then tilts it towards Hades pointedly. Hermes twitches in surprise, then nods determinedly, running off.

Zeus exhales and looks back at Athena as she finally calms, breathing hard. Shoulders slump in relief, frightened muttering taking its place- this wasn't supposed to happen to gods, to Olympians.

Zeus steps forward and brushes her hair out of her eyes as Athena loses consciousness, as they pull her onto a makeshift palanquin and prepare to take her to her room.

"I am sorry," He whispers to her, but it is far, far too late.

[la-sera]

Fanart inspired by the fic Nothing is Forever (what a horror/what a joy) by @imperialkatwala , @polynomialpandemic

Warning: temporary MCD.

This fic made me stare at midnight and read it 2 or 3 times until I fell asleep without realizing it. The next morning, I drew a sketch at work and colored it this evening. I want to draw this scene ASAP. If you like Downfall Duo, you might like this fic. Please read this fic!

Fic link:

[comicaurora]

This Urban Fantasy Vending Machine thing sounds amusing.

I'll toss in the Yi Yuan I found in the change machine's quarter slot from back when I worked at McD's.

you realize the vending machine is actually a nuanced allegory for a pitfall on the journey to enlightenment. kuanyin appears in a shower of heavenly light to tell you the vending machine is her escaped tamagotchi, demanding endless sustenance and providing only temporary respite in exchange. a monkey offers to hit it with a stick

[brandileigh2003]

Wolfstar fic recs featuring disability, chronic illness, chronic pain, or characters who are deaf or blind

**please feel free to drop your own fic or recs in comments and I'll add.

~~~please give these authors love, comments and interaction means more than you know. ~~

orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond divorced wolfstar get back together, flashbacks to remus getting diagnosis, breakup, and Sirius dealing with alcoholism. Raising teddy. Hea.

-love finds a way by littleoldrachel: Jurassic Park exes to lovers

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe: @lavenderhaze get back together, raising teddy, the second has mcd but if you just read first you can pretend he's ok? (I know I have friends who don't touch mcd with 10ft pole)

-(really you can't go wrong with any of peachyybabe, disability, chronic illness and/or mental health/illness in all.

-Forget the World by @amberlink mcd. Sirius is a surgeon, saves remus' life and they marry for insurance. But ofc fall in love along the way as Remus' heart gets worse. this was so good and explored brief as well

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel remus owns flower shop and meets the gang (seizures and chronic pain

-Like Real People Do by third_crow coffee shop au, also sirius raising harry. So good.

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 remus has heart condition, written by person with chronic illness themselves

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-heat and balance by @eyra also interesting look into Sirius dual role of partner and caregiver

-We’ll Make It Out Alive by wolfstar_addict417 texting fic, raising teddy

-the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual get back together, remus is blind, raising teddy

-Found Heaven by fierrochase fluffy text fic, so cute together

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-The Sickness Unto Death by oliverdalstonbrowning university au, remus has cystic fibrosis

-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot bookshop au, sirius raising harry

-My Only Sunshine by Loua29xx: remus had cancer. Mcd

- Young Blood by viwrites @just--vi road trip au, jegulus main, remus has heart condition (I've been told the 2nd focus more on wolfstar, haven't gotten there yet)

-I Don't Care if My Heart Breaks by orphan_account: bookshop au, remus has cerebral palsy

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies remus is deaf

-Give Me A Sign by@theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. Wip

-Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon: @sophsicle jegulus main but remus is deaf. Hockey and University au

-Signs of Affection by KittyCargo: remus is deaf, teacher asl

-For the Love of Ducks by viwrites Remus has heart condition

-a lot of Lucigoo89 feature in some way. @lucigoo this is a great example- Finding my fate in the sensory room

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

- feel what its like to be new by peachyybabe: boarding school au, sirius is blind

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-one shot: Another New Potion? by depressed_and_nauseous

-wip: bite the hand by raggedypond: zombie apocalypse

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack Remus has ra, flower shop

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again: bakery au

-Casimir Pulaski Day by breadpoetssociety: cancer, mcd

-Forever Is a State of Mind by orphan_account (deaf remus)

-Living Like We're Renegades by orphan_account (hoh remus, university)

-Mile High by quidditery chronic pain

-this is not a temporary love (now my heart is in your hands) by littleoldrachel (pining, abandoned as far as I know, but worth it!!!)

-I Didn't Come Here to Party, I Only Came for the Cake by attheendoftheday gbbo Remus with fibromyalgia

-Six Feet Apart by Belle_Lestrange101 pandemic fic, Remus has hiv

-Beyond the Heartbeat by bizarrestars: ultimately a story about grief of regulus, with the middle soft wolfstar falling in love. Remus and illness is featured.

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account coffee shop fic, Sirius is deaf, Remus has epilepsy

-as it was by peachyybabe A story about falling in love with a stranger in a bookstore and learning how to live again.

-An Infinte Ocean orphan_account: teddy has cf, Sirius is amputer

-Blind Werewolf McWolf by orphan_account Remus is blind

-Message from Seat 25A by PleaseDonateBlood 1 shot lupus

-if you were a waiting room. by beaniesandblackcoffee

-Time May Change Me by Kaymardsa lupus

-Underneath It All by Kaymardsa: seizures, texting fic

-i don't want to be your muse by yellowmarshmallow muggle asexual remus with chronic fatigue syndrome

-waiting room by haey1

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-Physiotherapy by @missmoonfrost Sirius helping remus see his body and therapy in another light

***all of my fics have disability or chronic illness rep two of my faves: silence between us (deaf remus + disability) and inevitable (cancer, mcd)**

These are prb widely known but...

-Highland Fling [+podfic] by @picascribitremus has lupus. They meet when Sirius is backpacking

-Text Talk by merlywhirls: Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

-Blends by rvltn909 coffee shop (sequel names goes into it a lot more)

-A Cup of Sugar by MsAlexWP: both harry and remus disabled

-Discards by picascribit read tags , sensitive subjects: remus has hiv

-A Wolf's Heart by mizdiz : meet in bookshop, remus has heart problems, mcd

-Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement by @xinasvoice : get together fic, remus is an author has fibromyalgia

@just--vi did a tiktok video with these mentioned too that I forgot (give her some love)

-A Wolf, A Bear, A Dungeon Master, and Boy Wonder by ratmom819

-Forever is Definitely Punk Rock by orphan_account (lupus)

-Put Your Head on My Shoulder by jennandblit

-Sunshine on Leith by eyra

Spoons and Stars by Chlobliviate (Rec from glittery-grandma) chronic fatigue and pain, wolfstar in uni

Others who sent me recs:

With different eyes by Shadowmun: blind Sirius is a seer. (haven't read this but def it's on my list) Also check out ao3 or tumblr there are some others that aren't wolfstar @mundrakan

---feel free to check it my main rec list

I shall also direct you to some lists by the @wolfstarlibrarian I'm sure there is some in common but they also have more one shots that I unfortunately usually don't track for the most part (this is amazing account, and not mine, but give them lots of love)

Wolfstar + Chronic Pain, Wolfstar w/Disabilities, Deafness, & Blindness, Wolfstar Hospital AUs, Sick Fic Oneshots, Terminally/Chronically Ill Remus Fics

••new additions

-Finding Warmth by Moony (adashofinspiration): deaf remus and blind Sirius

•As I Held My Breath by moodymoony103, niffler934 (82k) modern get together, teacher remus, Sirius raising regulus' daughter

From tbr: •amicus curiae by femme_de_lettres: wip au law students

•Becoming Remus this Christmas by mybelovedmoon (wip, chronic pain ft trans remus

•Petit pas by Curiosities: ballet au, Remus injured in accident

•maybe time running out is a gift by messrsrarchives (wip, mcd) cancer

[serickswrites]

Make Me Your Villain XXII

Master list here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

A/N: ok gang, this chapter is......dark. Like very, very dark. Pay attention to what Nova's refrain is over and over. This will be important in coming chapters as we still have quite a bit of story left to cover. Full confession, I wrote this scene first. This was the first thing I had pop into my head. And then I had to write to get here. And a little afterwards to wrap everything up. I've put the tags below here (and in the tag section), but if any of them are squicks for you, you can always pm to ask what happened in the chapter. Please enjoy!

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, wounds, injury, self sacrifice, gore, blood from the mouth, character death, potential mcd, temporary character death

Jude returned not long after that. The brief interlude from Liam’s torture hadn’t been enough. He needed more time. And Nova was going to try and buy him some time, no matter the cost. Henry should be here soon, just perhaps not soon enough for her. But Liam is who mattered more.

“What were you two lovebirds chatting about, hmmm?” Jude said as he stopped midway in between Liam and Nova. “Anything good?”

“Just about where we will go on vacation after defeating you today,” Nova said quickly, not allowing Liam to speak. He needed time. She could feel the pain he was feeling. Feel all the injuries. He couldn’t endure another torture session.

But she could.

Jude rolled his eyes. He smiled. “I think I could go on vacation to Tahiti, or perhaps Bali? I don’t know though, I’m sure the celebrations here will be long, so I might not get away for another month or two.”

Liam opened his mouth to speak, but Nova beat him to it. “The only place you’re going is a hole in the ground.”

Jude’s smile faded. “Sweets, I think it’s your turn. Thank you for volunteering.” He took two steps towards Nova, his hands balling into fists. Nova braced for the pain.

“Leave her alone! You’re beef is with me, Jude!” Liam said angrily.

Jude only had eyes for Nova. Her plan had worked. “I’ll see to you soon, don’t worry. But I think I’m going to shut that pretty mouth of hers up for good.”

“Doing that won’t stop them from knowing about you. Doing that won’t stop the people from finding out what kind of monster you are. Because Nova’s right, we are getting out of here. And when we do, I will rain down hell on earth here. And then the people will know exactly what you are.”

Jude turned, eyes flashing with rage. “I wouldn’t say such things if I were tied up and powerless.” No! Liam needed time. Nova needed to keep Jude’s attention on her. She had to buy Liam time. To buy Henry time.

Liam’s eyes flashed. “I am never powerless. Not as long as I have my voice. I will never stop fighting you. And I will win. I will emerge victorious. I will always emerge victorious over you. Because you are nothing but a pathetic low life. A bottom feeder who thought they could rise above. But you will never win.”

“HOW DARE YOU!” Jude roared, taking two steps towards Liam. His clenched fists rising as he stepped.

“You are a soul sucker. A low life. There is nothing glamorous or wondrous about your power. You don’t have any of your own. You just suck the life out of people. Just like you’ve sucked the life out of this town.”

Nova could see the shadows at Liam’s feet growing and shifting as they started to rise. His eyes found hers and he nodded slightly. She could see Liam clumsily form sharp blades with his shadows, slowly growing them in size as he tried to lift them. She could feel her power once more, truly feel it. She began to glow, her light seeking to heal the tiny life growing inside of her.

Jude’s attention never left Liam. “I will end you. And when I do, the people will see the monster you were. And the town will heal. The people will heal. We will all heal and rejoice.”

Just as Nova breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the baby settle once more and she was ready to turn her healing to Liam, she saw Jude’s fist fly towards Liam’s chest. Her heart seized in her chest as she watched Jude’s fist punch through Liam’s chest, his forearm disappearing completely. No. No. NO. NONONONONO.

Blood filled Liam’s mouth as he gasped and choked. “I’ve stopped time in this moment, Liam. You won’t die until I’m ready for you to die, but you will feel pain, ” Jude said as he stared up into Liam’s eyes. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t happening.

Liam sputtered for air, blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth and chin. Jude leaned in close, but his voice carried. “I have your heart in my hand, Liam. It’s a delicate thing, your heart. Both physical and metaphorical,” Jude said with a chuckle.

“Please, please, please,” Nova’s words echoed in her ears. She sounded so far away. She wasn’t aware she was even speaking. “Please, I can heal him. Please, don’t kill him. Don’t hurt him. Me. You want me. You can have me. Please.” She couldn’t rip her gaze from Liam’s. Couldn’t tear her eyes away from watching pain fill his eyes. She could fix this. She had to fix this.

“I’m keeping you alive for this moment, Liam, so you can hear her pleading for your life. So you can hear her offer up her life for yours. So you can hear her despair, her screams, and her heartbreak.”

Liam’s eyes flickered away from hers for a moment to stare down into Jude’s as he gasped for air. His pale eyes found hers once more. His eyes were filled with a profound sadness as he stared into hers. No. This wasn’t happening. She could fix this. She could make Jude listen. She had to make Jude listen.

“Please, please. Jude. Please. Anything. I’ll give you anything. You can have my powers, my life. Please. Please just let him go. Don’t kill him. Don’t hurt him anymore.”

Jude looked over his shoulder with a wicked grin before he spoke again. He turned back to Liam. “Most of all, I’ve stopped time in this moment so you can hear me tell you that while your speech was pretty, and you waxed eloquently about how good would always triumph over evil, that you are wrong. Evil wins. You have failed. Evil wins because I always win. I always told you I would win because I’m evil. I don’t have to follow the rules you live by. So, Liam, you have failed. And I win.”

Jude’s arm twitched as Nova felt him release the time freeze. With growing horror, Nova watched as the light died in Liam’s eyes, his shadows suddenly evaporating, as Jude ripped his arm from Liam’s chest. No. NO. NO. NONONONONONO.

Blood spurted from the wound, flecking Liam’s jaw with bright red droplets, his arms falling forward as he slumped over, his limp hands no longer holding him off the meat hook. His whole body was limp as he hung on the hook, blood dripping from the tip of the hook and the hole in his chest onto the floor.

“NOOOOOOOOO!” Nova barely heard herself scream over the ringing in her ears. This wasn’t happening. There was still time. She could heal him. She still had time. She just had to get to him. She could heal him. She could heal anything.

“Oops,” Jude said as he tossed a gob of bloodied tissue onto the ground. He wiped his hand on his trousers. His arm was coated to the elbow with Liam’s blood. “Such a shame,” he said as he kicked out at Liam. Liam’s body swung on the hook, his head lolling with the movement. His jaw was slack and blood still dripped from the corner of his mouth and lips. “I wanted to spend more time getting my pound of flesh from your hide.”

Nova stared into Liam’s lifeless eyes. Stared into the eyes that were the color of the sky at dawn. Stared into them and couldn’t find any trace of the man she loved. She could heal him. She just needed to get to him. She could heal him. He wasn’t really dead. Not when he had her. She could save him. She had the power. She just needed to get to him.

“No matter,” Jude said as he released the chain used to suspend the meathook. Liam’s body dropped to a heap on the floor. Jude kicked Liam’s body once more. Liam didn’t cry out. Didn’t do anything except lay there and bleed. Like a corpse. He wasn’t dead. Not really dead. She could save him. She could heal this. She could heal anything. Jude smirked down at Liam, grabbing his body by the hair and began to drag him towards the door.

“Where are you taking him?”

Jude stopped. He released his grip on Liam’s hair and Liam’s head dropped, bouncing off the tile floor with a sickening crack. “Don’t worry, sweets, I’ll be back to finish you off soon. After all, you shouldn’t have to live without your lover for long.”

Nova didn’t relent. “Where are you taking him?” She would find him. She would heal him. And then she would kill Jude with her bare hands.

“Where all the town can see my triumph. Where the town’s people can see him. Can curse his name. Can spit on him. I’m going to put Liam where everyone can see. Where they can rejoice and sing my praises. And where they can dance with joy at the knowledge that the villain plaguing our fair city is dead.”

“The only villain plaguing this city is you, you fucking monster.”

Jude smirked again. He leaned down and grabbed Liam by the hair and began to walk towards the door once more, dragging Liam’s limp body behind him. “Such a mouth you have, sweets. How I look forward to you screaming his name and begging me to end it.”

Nova was alone again. Only this time it was so much worse. She began to sob as the reality of what just happened set in. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead. It was all her fault. She could save him. She could heal him. She could heal anything. He couldn’t be dead.

Tags: @dutifullykrispyland@jesssmolfur@parad0xical2@st0rmm@keeper-of-all-the-random-things

@pigeonwhumps@gala1981@allylovessweets@whumpitywhumpwhump @giggly-evil-puppy

@cravesunconditionallove @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @ay5ksal @celestialsoyeon

@hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @knightinbatteredarmor @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@whump-me-harder