#their time spent at camp had never been shown before but it's exactly like the fanfics

[hannibard]

GERALT AND JASKIER ARE BACK BABY!!!!!!!

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

Do Your Worst

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel��s lover is having a hard time, but no amount of acting out can push him away

Warnings: mentions of violence (torture)

Notes: Sorry for the silence, I’ve been having terrible writer’s block but I think I did okay with this one!

Image Credit: Pinterest

Today was rubbish. Probably one of her worst days yet. 

It had been exactly two months since Hybern captured her from Azriel’s post and took her to their war camp deep in the Spring Court’s woods. Exactly two months since she’d been tortured for information she’d die before giving up. Exactly two months since she’d made peace with her death. Rhys couldn’t track her immediately, Mor and Feyre’s searches came up empty each time, and even Azriel’s shadows couldn’t pick up a clue. Azriel had driven himself mad, downright insane, trying to find her. Each day he spent every waking hour looking for clues, scouring the forests for her scent, and each day he returned to bed with nothing to show for it. It took Amren and Nesta a month to finally locate her. In that month she laid cut and bruised, chained to a wooden post like an animal, struck, cut, and burnt for every question she refused to answer. They left her in the middle of that camp, exposed to the heat of the day, the cold of the night, the rain, the wind, and the thunder. They made her into a spectacle. 

She only thought of her family, her Azriel, the entire time. My Azriel, she’d think each time they brutalized her. My Azriel, my Azriel, my Azriel. Rhys collapsed when she allowed him into her mind after they brought her home. He would never forgive himself for sending her on that mission, nor would he ever show his brother what she’d shown him, for Azriel very well would have sent Prythian to immediate war. 

And while the cuts, bruises, burns, and broken bones would heal completely, the skin of her back would forever be changed, marred with angry, raised scars from a heavy leather whip. She could barely walk. 

The first time Azriel saw the lashes on her back, he was helping her undress the night she returned home. Each movement caused her to cry out in pain. She tried to bite her lip, clench her fist, grip Azriel’s arm, tried anything to keep from crying, but nothing helped– the pain was too much. It would’ve been a mercy from the Mother to fall apart, limb by limb, bone by bone, instead. 

Azriel had seen all the other scars when Madja was working on her; those alone made him sick and wild with a hideous rage, potent enough to crumble the mountains surrounding the city into nothing more than powder on the ground. The lashes on her back– the thought of some wretched male stripping her and lashing a whip over her soft, warm skin in the mud and rocks– filled him with a fury so intense, so horrid, he could’ve wrapped his bare arms around the sun and pulled it down to earth. Set everything on fire. 

That very night, with names in his ear courtesy of the shadows and Cassian and Rhys positioned at her door, Azriel made each of those names pay. He was back by sunrise, tucked into bed beside her, wing draped over her restless body, and she was none the wiser. 

“You’re killing it,” Madja’s appointed physical therapist, Jarrah, encouraged as he watched her do her exercises. He was tall and muscled with glittering, golden-brown skin, looking ever the Summer Court high fae that he was. 

“It’s killing me,” she ground the words out, mincing each syllable as they passed through her teeth. Pain gripped her legs, lower back, and upper arms like a vise as she fought to complete a rep, the movements squeezing every last bit of energy out of her and collecting on the mat below in puddles of sweat. “I can’t do it, Jarrah.” 

“You can and you will,” he squared his shoulders at her, smile fading as he willed her to find her strength again. In recovery, he’d taught her, there were good days and there bad days– healing was not a linear process. 

Some days she did well in physical therapy and pushed herself– the pain only meant she was getting stronger. Azriel would be absolutely beside himself with pride and their friends echoed as much. 

Other days, her body seemed to give out in protest, the pain too unbearable, and she’d wonder if she’d ever be the same again. Azriel would encourage her– she knew it wasn’t pity– but she couldn’t stand it all the same. She’d collapse onto the floor against her will during physical therapy, shoving Jarrah away with shame when he’d tried to help her up each time. Sometimes, she’d wake up in the dead of night, clammy, and nauseous from a nightmare that felt more and more real each time she had one. Azriel held her to his body whenever she’d jostle awake, heaving and shaking, stroking his warm hands up and down her arms. Other nights he held her hair back as she retched her dinner into the toilet, panting and crying silent tears. 

“To expect linearity is to set yourself up for failure,” Jarrah lectured during their very first session when all she wanted to do was get to the hard stuff, to prove that she was alright– that she was still whole. Jarrah did not mind her bad days, but something died within her every time she left training without making any notable progress– every time her body failed her when her mind seemed to be giving its all. 

From the moment they started their session this morning, Jarrah noted her body was fatigued and her mind was somewhere else. Oh dear.

“We can take a break–” 

“No!” She buckled down and held her position, determined to prove to herself that even on her worst days she could succeed. It was the most enthusiastic response Jarrah had gotten all session from her so he allowed it. He watched her body tremble from the strain, the sweat bead at her temples, the fatigue in her eyes as she fought the pain in her spine. 

Her body could not bear it anymore. She felt her traitorous legs give out beneath her and the ground came up faster than she could register, faster than Jarrah could react. A strangled cry crawled from her throat as she collapsed and her body trembled in a pain her mind could barely process. 

“Fuck,” a familiar voice rang out from the gym’s entrance and Azriel ran in. Just great. What was he even doing here? After the first training appointment in which Azriel could barely keep himself from choking out Jarrah and coddling her, he agreed to not interrupt her sessions thereafter. His disregard for their agreement made her feel so small. 

“Fuck,” Jarrah echoed. He was at her side in two steps, arms outstretched to help her up, but she scooted away as fast as her leadened arms would allow, turning her face away in shame. 

“Don’t touch me!” She croaked. 

Jarrah stopped himself by the time Azriel was at her side, crouching beside her and taking up what felt like all of the oxygen in her space. Breathe, she tried to remind herself but with Azriel hovering and Jarrah a foot away, both watching her crumpled pathetically on the mats, she couldn’t. 

“Are you alright?”

“Get her some water!”

“That’s enough for today, let’s get you some food.”

“... My love?”

Azriel’s soft voice pierced through her terrible thoughts. She felt his strong hands reach under her armpits to help her up but she pushed against his biceps, swatting him off in a desperate attempt to move away. But the pain made her so dizzy, it was difficult to create any real distance. 

“Don’t!” she cried out, for it was all she could do, and Azriel dropped his hands immediately. “I can get up on my own.”

Azriel didn’t move. Jarrah placed a comforting hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “We should give her some space.”

Azriel clenched his jaw but it didn’t stop the twitching of his upper lip. He stood abruptly, swiveling on his heels so his face was only mere inches from Jarrah’s, who’d since quickly retracted his hand to himself. To his credit, he kept his shoulders square, but even he wasn’t immune to the pure threat in the Shadowsinger’s glare. 

“My mate is in pain, she can’t even stand up, and you want to leave her like this?” He growled. 

Anger grappled her lungs, stealing whatever air she’d managed to collect. That was the problem. “I can stand up, Azriel. I’m not made of glass.” 

It took her a few minutes, but she did it. She first rotated her hips so she was on her hands and knees. With one foot underneath her, she pushed herself up, trembling, sighing, moaning as her body resisted the upward movement, but she finally stood. 

Azriel clenched his hands at his sides to anchor himself back, to resist from helping her. He knew she was capable of doing anything, that she didn’t really need him. Part of the reason he was so hesitant to pursue her all those years ago was because she was so independent that it intimidated him. Azriel wasn’t sure what he brought to the table, what he could do better that she already did for herself, how he would fit into the life she’d built for herself. 

But that didn’t change the fact that he would still do anything for her. It didn’t take away that primal need to protect her. He tried his best not to suffocate her but sometimes he couldn’t help his instincts when his love for her outweighed everything else.  

She allowed Azriel to link his arm with hers as she waved goodbye to Jarrah, silently apologizing for Azriel’s outburst. 

“Let’s get you something to eat, yeah?” His voice was soft as he led her out of the gym and to the townhouse’s sunlit sitting room. “You did so good today, love.”

“I’m not hungry.” Was all she replied. She couldn’t stomach anything after such a rubbish session. Fear that she would never be the same ever again set in, but nobody would understand. No one could even fathom what it would do to her if she couldn’t keep doing her job, going on these missions, protecting this city. If she was relegated to a desk for the rest of her life, she’d have lost everything she’s ever worked for.

“Sure you are. At least something small to keep the medicine down.” 

Madja had her on a cocktail of herbs and elixirs– something for the pain, something for the scars, probably something for how fucked her mind had become– she couldn’t keep track. Azriel kept track for her. She swallowed the pills and the bitters he gave her and allowed him to rub the salve into her scars before bed. Whatever. This was life now– being shoddily held together by some combination of antibiotics, gauze, and ointments. 

She shook her head in defiance and Azriel sighed, stopping her just before the doorway to the living room where the rest of their friends sat. She was so stubborn– if she didn’t want to do something, no one could get her to do it. It was a quality he admired but also a quality that drove him downright mad at times like this.

“What’s bothering you?” 

“You mean besides healing at a snail’s pace and sitting on my ass all day in this house while everyone else goes to work– fulfills some sort of purpose? I’m doing just great.” The smile did not reach her eyes. 

Azriel tilted his head as if to say No, really. I know there’s something else. He could read her like a damn book– it had always been that way. 

She hesitated for a moment before confessing, “I don’t know if I’ll be the same ever again.”

Azriel’s face softened at the anxiety that weighed on her shoulders so heavily they sagged. 

“Of course you will, love. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It’s been two months and I can’t even climb the stairs without needing a break. My body hurts by the time I go to bed. I can still feel my back– the scars–” the words caught in her throat and she quickly cut herself off before she choked on them, unable to talk too much about it without feeling her body and mind repulse. 

“Come here,” Azriel wrapped his strong arms around her frame and pulled her into his body so close their hearts beat in sync before each other as if in private conversation. “The physical training, the medicines, the therapist, you’ve got it all going on. No one here is working harder than you right now.”

“But what if it isn’t enough,” she mumbled into his chest, a single hot tear catching on the fabric of his sweater. She turned her face into his chest to wipe the tear away completely and Azriel’s heart broke for her. He wished he could reach into her chest and pull out the pain with his bare hands, fly with it to Ramiel and drop it at the peaks where it could never find its way back to her ever again. “You know better than anyone, you could do everything right and it still wouldn’t matter. I just need to get better. Be myself again.”

“I will love you no matter what happens. Even if you are never the same, I will still love you. This changes nothing.”

She pushed him away abruptly, hastily wiping away tears as if Azriel couldn’t see them. He didn’t get it. This wasn’t about him, about him loving her. This was her life. If she couldn’t get back to who she was, fill the roles she’d spent her whole life caring about, where would she stand among her family? Where would she stand in this life? In this world? 

“But it changes everything for me,” her eyebrows furrowed incredulously. “I want my body back, my mind back. Thanks for letting me know you’d still love me if I were to be this fucked up forever, but that’s literally the last thing on my mind right now, Azriel. I don’t want to be fucked up forever, I want to get better, and I need you to want that for me too.”

Azriel tried to find the right words, stuttering in his search to say the right thing. He didn’t mean it like that. He only ever wanted the best for her– would kill for her to have what’s best for her. “I-I didn’t mean–”

“No, I’m sure you didn’t.” She huffed, storming past him into the sitting room. Instant guilt flooded her as soon as she left him. Azriel helped however he could. Perhaps it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t put himself in her shoes in this very situation, but he’d gone through something traumatic too, and Azriel definitely knew a thing or two about helplessness. Still, she felt so alone. Azriel tried, but he wouldn’t understand what it was like to be a woman tortured in a camp full of males. What that took from her. She wouldn’t explain it. 

Azriel watched her storm off, feeling as if he was failing her all over again. Every night, he watched the dullness in her eyes grow as he handed her the medicines. When she laid down in their bed with practiced monotony so he could rub the salve into the scars stretched across her back, he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from crying. They were nasty things, raised and swollen with blood and she flinched every time he touched them, as if he were delivering the lashings all over again. She was hurting and he felt so helpless. He vowed to always protect her and take away her pains but he could do neither of those things and the thought of it ate him alive everyday. Only the Mother knew the true lengths he’d go to for her. That man would do anything. 

In the sitting room, Azriel brought her a sandwich that he put together in the kitchen. Nuala and Cerridwen insisted that would make it, but he politely refused. He wanted to be the one to do it. 

“Az, I told you I’m not hungry,” She murmured as he handed her the plate. 

“You need to eat something if you want to keep the medicines down,” He reasoned again. 

“I know what Madja said, I was there,” She snarked, crossing her arms. She was so tired of people telling her what to do. Jarrah telling her what exercises to do, Madja telling her what medicines to take, Rhys telling her that she shouldn’t try to work again so soon, Feyre telling her she should take more walks, Cassian telling her to drink less wine, Azriel forcing her to eat more food. 

“Okay, darling,” He placed the plate on the table when she wouldn’t take it from him. 

“Turkey and swiss, okay!” Cassian peeked at the sandwich, nudging her arm. “And he cut it in half too.”

“Just the way she likes it. In half though, not diagonal– too much crust in one bite if it's cut diagonal,” Azriel smiled from where he sat across the table from them. She could have cried at the sight of him, at the love in his eyes, in his voice. Words were never his strong suit but Azriel more than made up for it in acts of service. This was how he showed his love. This was him reaching his hand out, begging for her to take it, to let him in. To let him help. 

And she didn’t know why she had such a hard time letting him in. She didn’t want to seem incapable of anything, and letting herself fall apart the way Azriel would allow her to terrified her. She’d never fallen apart before. She didn’t know how she could do it without completely tearing herself and every past wound open again. It broke her heart to watch his smile falter when she didn’t reach for the plate. 

“I’m going to bed,” she stood up as quickly as her body would allow and left the room. It was too much. Azriel’s disappointment, everyone’s expectations, watching her, studying her, readying themselves to be there for her if she did explode. She never needed this much attention in the past– to receive so much of it all of a sudden made her feel like she was made of porcelain and everyone was expecting her to shatter at any moment. She could hardly breathe in that room and needed to get out before something within her cracked further. 

The stairs loomed before her, mocking with how many there were. Grabbing the bannister until her knuckles paled, she hoisted herself up one step at a time, maneuvering her body so that her entire weight wouldn’t be on one leg for too long. 

Nesta appeared behind her, climbing the steps she’d taken over the course of minutes in just mere seconds, with a stack of books in one arm and a handful of her gown in the other. Nesta stopped a couple steps ahead, turning around and looking down at her through long eyelashes. 

“Well this is pathetic,” Nesta snorted. 

“Fuck off,” she meant to sneer, but it came out in a breathless huff instead. Pathetic indeed.

 Nesta let her skirts fall from her right arm as she extended it toward her. 

“I don’t need your help.”

“You definitely do.”

“Don’t you have those smutty little novels to get back to?”

“Shut the fuck up and take my arm, or bust your ass on these stairs, I don’t care.” 

Begrudgingly, she took Nesta’s arm. Neither of them spoke, but Nesta patiently guided her up the stairs, supporting her where she needed it. Out of the entire Inner Circle, she got along the most with Nesta. Their conversations usually followed a very similar pattern as this one did, but only because they each saw a little piece of themselves in the other, even if they never mentioned it. 

“Heard you being a bitch downstairs,” Nesta finally spoke when they cleared the last stair and stood at the landing so she could catch her breath. 

She couldn’t find it within herself to take offense. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone. I don’t know why I do this,” she confessed. She didn’t need to explain further. Nesta automatically understood. When they locked eyes, that silent comprehension flowed between them again and for the first time since arriving back home from the war camp, she felt relief. The kind of relief that made your heart beat out of your chest and go a little dizzy. The kind of relief that came from being completely understood without having to spend the energy trying to put the thoughts and feelings into comprehensible words. 

“I know. It’s not your fault.” The words fell softly from Nesta’s lips. It was the last thing she said before she led her to the library. They sat in arm chairs across the fireplace and read for hours in each others’ company. No one came looking for her. No one tried to force a plate of food down her throat. No one wanted her to do those stupid mobility stretches. Nobody was asking her if she was okay. It was everything she needed. So why did she still feel restless, like something was missing?

Azriel.

She left the library after she’d calmed down. In the quiet, amongst the books, when she thought that was all she needed, she felt misery instead. She needed Azriel. She wanted to lay in bed with him forever, feel his skin on hers forever, stay in his warmth forever, feel their heartbeats sing side by side forever. Azriel forever. Nothing else would compare. 

When she reached their room, it was empty. Disappointment flooded her chest, but she knew Azriel was giving her space. As she moved closer to the bed, she found a new plate of food waiting beside a note. A remade sandwich, cut down the middle as always. 

Your favorite. Was all the note said. 

Indeed it was. She polished off the sandwich in a matter of minutes, as ravenous as she was. Actually, she was hungry when Azriel first offered one to her in the sitting room, but she was too stubborn to take it then. 

The bath towel beside the note on the bed was warm to the touch. From the soft sound of trickling water in the bathing room, she knew he’d run her a bath. The air above the tub smelled of sandalwood– his scent. As she stripped off her clothes and lowered herself into the warm water, the scent encompassed her as if he was in the room with her right then, waiting to join her. 

Surely, an hour or two must have passed. Her eyes pried open, the water and soap around her body in the tub still warm and feathery like a winter duvet. She didn’t know when she’d fallen asleep, only that it was the best sleep she’d gotten these past two months. For the first time since coming home, she slept with no nightmares and no nausea to rouse her from rest. She didn’t even dream. She simply passed out.

When she finally left the bathroom, her body wrapped in the towel he’d warmed for her, she found Azriel sitting on the bed with a book nestled in his large hands. As she stepped through the doorway of the bathing room, he looked up, smiling softly. Pure love shone in his eyes like a beacon, flashing and blinking in the darkness that war camp left her in. 

At the sight of his soft smile, the gentleness of his features, the relaxed sag of his shoulders, she felt something break. 

Sensing a shift in her demeanor, he lowered the book, eyebrows knitting together. 

"What's wrong?"

Those two damned words. She bit the inside of her cheek, walking weakly to Azriel's side of the bed. He placed his book on the nightstand and sat up straighter, anticipating her next move. 

She climbed into his lap, straddling his hips, and laid her upper body against his torso, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Her arms wrapped around his body tightly, breathing him in like he was the oxygen she lived off of. Anything else, anything that was not Azriel, and she could just die right there. 

He brought his arms around her tightly, heart sinking when he felt her hot tears on his neck. She did not shake. She did not sob. He only felt the wetness on his skin and the erratic heaving of her chest against his as she fought to regulate her breathing.

He did not say anything else. He held her, unmoving except to rub her back or run his hand over the back of her head, smoothing her hair. His other hand held the back of one of her thighs to keep her in place as she grew increasingly limp in his arms. 

"I've been such a wretch." Her voice was heavy and filled with sorrow. "I've been such a wretch to you. I'm sorry Az."

"Oh my love," He held her as close as he could, willing her to feel the love he held for her in his chest. His love for her ran everywhere his blood did, from his toes to the top of his head, every day and every second, his astonishment of her coursed his body like an electrical current keeping him alive. Without her,  there was no pulse. 

"How do you put up with me?" He felt her wipe her nose on his shoulder and he couldn't help the smile on his lips.

"Because I love you, and I know your anger has nothing to do with me."

"But you should not have to put up with it."

"I will put up with anything when it comes to you. You don’t ever have to worry about that when it’s you and I,” He pulled her back so he could look into her eyes. “You went through something horrible. You’re going to need time to work through it all, but I will be here for every moment of it. I’m sorry if I’ve been suffocating you, darling. I only do it because I can’t help it. When I see you hurting I wish I could take all of it from you and put it in me.”

“I never want you to hurt,” she told him earnestly. The thought of him going through what she did filled her with rage so sudden and consuming she couldn’t begin to imagine what Azriel felt when they finally found her at the camp. 

“I could never when I have you looking out for me,” He smiled that cheeky, boyish smile that came out so rarely. 

“I’ve just been having so many bad days. I should be happy that I’m back home, that I’m safe now. I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, and it comes out at the wrong times in the wrong ways. But I don’t know what I’d do without you, Az.” 

“Even on your worst days, you’re the best of us. So do your worst. I can handle it." 

The disbelief in her eyes melted away when he cradled her head, smiling earnestly– and gods, she wished she could commission Feyre to paint him like this– a man smitten. With all the tonics and creams Madja had forced on her, she had a sneaking suspicion that none of them would truly heal her. They helped the symptoms, but never the cause. She’d accepted that it would take a damn miracle to heal the cause. And here Azriel was, pleading and lovely, looking like her damn miracle. 

She let him undo the towel from around her body and lay her into the soft covers, warm from where he sat while she was in the bath. Turning over, Azriel smoothed the salve over her scars as he did every night. But for the first time in months, she finally replied to his attempts at starting conversation as he worked. For the first time in months, she laughed genuine laughs that felt only slightly foreign– much like old friends– in her throat. For the first time in months, as he tenderly slicked Madja’s balm over her scars, praying to the Mother for her health over each one he touched, she did not flinch. 

[annwrites]

⸻ farmhouse living room

· pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: the group debates what is to be done with randall. shane is the only one interested in your opinion. dale is sure you'll agree with him. · word count: 1,687 · a/n: in this version of events, shane & andrea have never had sex. & while i think her feelings toward him only really manifested after that afternoon in the front seat of his car, i've implied in this that she has a thing for him anyway.

Shane looks at you then. “Y/N-baby, been awful quiet. Like to hear your thoughts on it.”

Dale speaks before you can. Not that you want to. You don’t entirely like being made the sudden center-of-attention to begin with anyway.

“Well, obviously, she agrees with me. She’d never advocate for cold-blooded murder like this.” He looks at you. “Right?”

You shift from one foot to the other. You look at Daryl then. “You’ve spent more time with him in the barn than most of us. What, exactly, has he said to you?”

Daryl glances from you, to Dale, to Shane, then to the floor. “Told me this one story, ‘bout the guys he was with. How this one night they came across this camp—a dad and his two daughters. ‘Real cute-like’ was how he described ‘em. Said the other guys took turns, made the dad watch. That they didn’t even bother to kill ‘em after. ‘Course he told me that ‘he isn’t like that’. It was just somethin’ in the way he talked about it. Like…I don’t know. Like he got off on it, or somethin’. Made me wanna put an arrow through his skull.”

Your stomach turns. You’re quiet for a moment, glancing to Shane, then you look at Dale. “I understand his standing by as witness. I’m sure if he’d so much as tried to stop them, they would’ve killed him. It was self-preservation. He’d be dead and…they still would’ve done it anyway. But to talk about it in the manner Daryl described…”

You shake your head, and cross your arms. “To describe those girls like that…it’s clear what kind of man he is. If he’d shown any amount of remorse, I’d feel differently. So I agree with Shane.”

Shane gives you a small smile, standing up a bit straighter.

Dale looks absolutely flabbergasted. “I can’t believe I’m getting out-voted over something so…so—”

Shane cuts him off, shifting his weight from one hip to the other.

When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on you all the while. “If I ever saw that bastard near her,” he nods his head in your direction. “I’d drop ‘em several times over. I ain’t about to take any risks over the woman I…”

He pauses for just a moment. The two of you had said it a handful of times so far. And only after the first time you’d had sex. That warm, perfect day far away from the farmhouse. Far from the rest of the camp.

He’d taken your virginity, just like he’d offered to, and in that moment, with him sheathed inside of you, whispering sweet nothings against your ear as he made love to you so painstakingly slowly…something shifted. And the both of you could no longer deny that something more—some invisible bond—was binding the two of you. Had been all along since he saved you from staying back at the quarry.

But the two of you had agreed to keep your new, blossoming relationship just between you. To keep moments of true, physical intimacy either in his tent, or in that field you returned to time and again to feel your bare skin upon one another.

You didn’t need to risk someone sticking their nose in your business and trying to come between you—trying to ruin what you’d just found; just formed, and were slowly building.

You’d both lost enough. You weren’t about to lose one another, too. Especially after Shane had put forward so much effort in saving you over and over again. In taking care of, and protecting, and providing for you without asking for anything in return, but for you to finally try and live. For him, if nothing else.

You both knew people in the camp suspected.

Shane was gradually, as time went on, trying less and less to hide it. He’d give you a quick kiss on the cheek or top of your head here or there, whisper something in your ear—both of you pulling away from the other laughing—or giving each other lustful looks, heat pooling between your thighs as he told you the things he’d been thinking about doing to you all day. Or, you’d serve him lunch, him even once pulling you into his lap when it was late and half your people were gathered around the campfire chatting or eating.

Lori had cornered you one day in the kitchen about it. You’d just finished helping Maggie tend to the garden—pulling weeds and harvesting the fruits and vegetables that were ready to be eaten—and were washing off, and cutting up, and preserving when she’d come inside, seeking you out.

She’d asked Maggie if she would please give the two of you a moment alone, which she had of course obliged.

And then she’d asked if something were going on between you and Shane, and what it was, exactly, at that.

You’d remained quiet for a moment, setting some tomatoes in a bowl to begin drying off before you’d simply shrugged and said how you didn’t see it being anyone’s business but yours and his.

She gently grabbed your arm, turning you around toward her, the look on her face one of pure concern. “Honey, I don’t think you understand the kind of man he is. What he’s done, and-”

You’d promptly crossed your arms over your chest. “We’ve talked at length about the things he’s done. And even if none of them had anything to do with me, I still granted him my forgiveness when he asked me for it, because it was that important to him that he have it.”

She’d been left speechless for a moment. Long enough that you’d turned back around to begin scrubbing the potatoes of the dirt and soil they were covered in.

“Y/N, you’re young. And Shane is…he knows what he’s doing. He’s been with plenty of women before. Whereas you’ve-”

“Like you?”

She had shut her mouth instantly. “If you think this is jealousy, it isn’t. I’m just trying to look out for you; trying to prevent him from taking advantage of your youth, or your vulnerability. You don’t have anyone left to do that for you anymore.”

“Except him. He’s the only one who bothered to save me time and again when all I wanted—more than anything—was to give up and die. He refused to let that happen. I wouldn’t be standing here listening to someone else lecture me on how they know better than I do without him.” You’d turned back around then, bowl of tomatoes held between your arms. “I need to get these to Patricia, excuse me.”

Just as you were nearly out of the kitchen, you threw over your shoulder “Feel free to help if you have nothing better to do.”

You and Lori hadn’t spoken since that day. You had thought, after, that perhaps you’d been too harsh. You knew where her concern primarily stemmed from: the night in the library at the CDC. When Shane told you about it…you’d remained silent for a long while after, unsure of what to do. What to say. You felt afraid of him, even for a moment. The fact he could even think to do such a thing…to anyone—it didn’t matter that she had jilted him or not. It was inexcusable.

When you had looked at him, he’d been staring at you, his eyes red, and he’d told you he understood if you wanted him to stay away from you from now on. That maybe it was true: you deserved better.

You’d told him you didn’t want that, but that that action…it wasn’t for you to forgive. He’d nodded, understanding what you meant. He’d promised he would never hurt you like that, no matter what the future held.

You believed him.

Even Andrea had seemed a bit…jealous when she saw Shane so close to you nearly all the time now. Whenever he was in camp—he refused to let you go on runs unless it was with him, which typically translated to finding an abandoned house so you had a proper bed to have sex in—he was almost always pressed up against your side, his hands on your hips, your lower back, cupping your cheek, gripping your chin… A few times his hand had been high on your thigh, sometimes nearly touching you there—his way of silently asking to be alone with you for awhile.

She’d given you the cold shoulder for a couple days after she had once asked Shane if he wanted to go on a run and he had told her he didn’t intend to go out that day, but had then loaded you into his Hyundai later that afternoon, slipping a few small square wrappers into his pocket, adjusting himself over his pants, before climbing into the driver’s side and taking off from the farm like a bat out of hell.

Shane sighs for a moment, glancing down to his boots, then back up to you, silently asking for permission to finally give them all the truth you’re sure half of them are already well-aware of you.

You give him a small smile.

He continues. “I ain’t about to take any risks over the woman I love. I’ve almost lost her three times already. I ain’t about to let there be a fourth. I’ll put a bullet in his chest before that ever even comes close to happenin’. You can all bet your damn lives on that.”

You hear someone scoff, and you’re sure it’s Andrea, but you don’t care. Let them think what they wish. You were growing tired of people like Lori and Hershel treating Shane—someone who had kept the group alive and for so long—like the devil.

She had taken him for granted. Tossed him aside like he’d never mattered in the first place when Rick came back to her. You understood her reuniting with her previously-thought-dead husband, but to act like Shane had never been of any importance to start with? After all he’d done for her and Carl? After tearing himself apart, thinking his best friend was dead for all that time?

You wouldn’t be making that same mistake.

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 2: The Ties that Bind

The Athena cabin was the most brightly lit in Camp.

Not Apollo's, whose kids spent to much of their time outdoors or they'd all kill each other. Their music got the best volume and audience down in the amphitheater anyways, and the others dispersed in the archery range or med bay or anywhere else they pleased, like flirting down at the lake. No, the sun god's cabin got the most warmth through the beautifully constructed windows, but the lights inside were rarely on.

The large gray cabin had every light in the house on, often times bright as the crack of dawn in the dead of night. Currently, with one lone occupant in its center. Her curly blonde hair was a tangled mess, her orange shirt was more wrinkled than her bloodshot eyes as she stared down at a test with a B- on it as if it held the answer to all her prayers.

The name at the top said Percy Jackson.

He'd kissed her goodnight with one of the proudest smiles she'd ever seen on his face. He'd been going on about mailing this to his mother and threatening Hermes himself if it didn't arrive, he didn't want to wait for winter break to end to show his mom.

It was just a mock test, they'd come to camp together that winter holiday teasing and laughing each other they wouldn't get anything done, but he'd sat dutifully beside her every day after training. She gave him the test verbally, and it turned out she'd found a very helpful way to encourage him to focus on his studies involving gummy worms.

She'd never seen him smile so bright when she swore on the Styx she hadn't curved the grade for him, that had been his work on that paper, and he'd looked at her and said, "maybe I should go back to slacking off," teasing and squeezing her hand. "I'm worried if this becomes a thing Wise Girl, you'll stop calling me Seaweed Brain."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she'd kissed him gently and promised they'd drive to New York to hand deliver it to his mother. They'd spend the whole drive bickering where they'd spend Christmas. With Sally and Paul, or here at Camp, or maybe even risk finally introducing Percy to her dad as her boyfriend...

There was a corkboard, books, maps, a full plate of food, and more books piled around her than even her mothers temples could imagine holding as she sat in the center. Her siblings must have been staying at the Big House or something after the last time she'd chucked her earrings like throwing stars at the door for Malcolm opening it with worried eyes on her. They were still embedded. Her gray eyes fractured as the fluttering of pages went unnoticed by her from where she'd hurled her last attempt to find an answer against the wall.

He hadn't shown up at breakfast, a worrying thing all its own...

Annabeth felt the presence of someone arriving, but she didn't take notice. If it was one of her siblings crawling through the window for their toothbrush or Chiron again to exchange plates of food and no new answers, they held nothing important for her.

His cabin had been spotless. His bed made, not a speck of dust in sight, the wrappers stacked in the bin rather than ringing it. Somebody had cleaned up.

She was alone again.

Don't do this to me, she wanted to scream in Zeus's face or the universe itself. Haven't I suffered enough?! Please, do not do this to me! I can't take anymore!

The best outcome was a quest, one so time sensitive he had to go before he could tell her, to save someone. The logical answer.

But she was only mortal. It had been to long. There was another solution to this.

He was dead.

Or he had abandoned her too.

When exactly panic had turned into reality he was just, gone, vanished into thin air had been no set point in time. She kept expecting the terror to fade, dull slightly, but it never did. It was always there, like she'd grown a second heartbeat, pulsing away no matter what little sleep her mind claimed from her brain's frantic searches before she snapped awake again in full panic.

Calling Sally had been the worst of it. The dead feeling she knew she could never resuscitate in herself no matter the outcome. Her last desperate chance he'd just taken off to see her alone, and the choking words to explain when his mother was as lost as she was.

Will Solace had threatened to carry her over his shoulder to the med bay and strap her down if he heard of this continuing, and she'd chucked her backpack at him, dislocating his shoulder last she heard.

She'd prayed to every single God, sobbed until she passed out for air into Grover's shoulder as he held her tight, but they were the wrong arms. Pleaded with her mother to give her another clue and she wouldn't fail her again. Demanded of Hera to take her instead if this was some punishment. Waded into the frigid December Long Island Sound up to her chest and begged for Poseidon's help, sacrificing her hat strung onto her beaded necklace into the still water.

There was just a moment. A warm flash. It had felt like a promise her sacrifice had been seen, but dismissed.

She'd stood there waiting until she was blue for more, Chiron had dragged her out kicking and screaming because it didn't vanish. Her most precious object only stayed floating on the surface. He put it on her nightstand for her where it stayed.

The clock on the wall kept ticking. Over seven days. In mere hours it would be one hundred and ninty-two hours. Every second was another moment for her world to fall apart beyond the scope of her putting any of it back together.

Chiron had been beside himself trying to comfort her, trying to get her to sleep and eat. Will had apparently gone missing too, but all she'd heard was that the wisest person at Camp didn't have an answer for her if more were on the way. She hoped she was next.

All she'd found at the Grand Canyon were angry storm spirits as lost as her, empty and chasing their own tails...

Her dreams were a worse torment than being awake. She never knew if the awful pain she kept seeing Percy in was real or her imagination. The whispers of her mother's voice that things were wrong and out of place, like missing chess pieces on a board. She'd felt a presence snatch her away, she'd felt the distaste in that flying sensation and knew it must be Hera, showing her a vision, that a boy with one shoe would be her answer- there had been a fraction of a second, where she'd stopped in a room and looked right at Percy before it all went black.

"Annabeth Chase."

The use of her last name speared something in her, the last dregs of her sanity she'd been clinging to. She was on her feet with her dagger drawn to sever ties with anyone on this mortal world who dared imply she had anywhere to go back to.

"Artemis!"

She sat delicately on a stack of discarded books over Tartarus's many entrances, the number of which people could accidentally fall into much larger than Annabeth had anticipated.

The goddess of the moon and hunt had the same sad, soulful silver eyes as when she'd taken the burden of the sky away from her.

"Thalia," Annabeth's voice came up as her last breath, her knees trembled. "Is, is she..." of course. Of course this had happened. She'd begged for her sister's help that first day and Thalia had sworn she'd find him, slashing the Mist connection with vengeful eyes practically before Annabeth had finished explaining to get started. Now her patron goddess was here to tell her Thalia was dead in the search too-

"My Lueatinent is safe," Artemis said evenly, but there was a tick to her mouth. The kind of anger that a goddess could use to level natural disasters if she didn't smooth out her features again. "I can take you to her, and the one you seek, Percy Jackson."

There was no sense of movement. Annabeth's knife was embedded into the floor point first, she was on her knees in front of her savior once more as she spoke without hesitation, "I swear on the Styx, I'll do anything to help. What do you need?"

No god did anything without wanting something in return. She would pay that price.

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance, and her cold eyes turned warm as she smiled and stroked her hair. Artemis reached for her hand and Annabeth blindly took it without care of what came next. "That answer will suffice."

...

They interrupted the Titan of the Ocean and the Titan of Fresh Water and Nourishment having dinner.

Annabeth landed on the kale chips and heard the disturbing crunch under her rump while Artemis delicately plucked a shrimp out of her loose, brown hair.

The canyon like room was so dark Annabeth couldn't see the walls, the mosaic tiles were grimy and the floor had more tread it in than her favorite book. There was an empty chandelier hanging on by a single bolt above her head threatening to give out any moment with empty candle holders and dripping diamonds. The ceiling's white marble was so structurally unsound not even the best job involving duct tape would fix it. The one decoration that stood the test of time was an enormous, lovely stained glass window above the arched door. The happy couple gazing into each other's eyes in every shade of blue and green. It glowed as the only source of light.

Oceanus's bursting sigh caused it to quiver in its frame and one of the mottled chairs to collapse out of sight from her perch on the center of the long table. "Listening to Kronos really was the worst decision of my existence," he said as he stabbed at his salad. "Those kids don't go five minutes without disrupting my peace, now we can't get through dinner without gods popping in on us?"

"Artemis, it is lovely to see you again," but Tethy's smile was strained even as she pulled out a clipboard and flipped to a new page. "Something we can help you with? Why have you brought this mortal."

Oceanus stared blearily at her like he was seeing her for the first time through the mirky swill. There were cobwebs swaying around on his bullhorns.

"I cannot stay long, my lady," she tipped her head respectfully, but there was still a tightness about her Annabeth wasn't used to seeing in how the gods carried themselves. It seemed as if she was concentrating on her every word. "Poseidon played a dangerous move interrupting Hera's plan," Artemis kept her childlike appearance, sitting smaller than Annabeth in her chair, her forehead only just visible from where Annabeth sat. Her voice carried power in the room. "I do not follow Zues's wishes, and I do not appreciate being kept out of the loop."

A silver fork leapt off the table and flew across the room into the darkness. There was an ominous blue glow of a fish Annabeth couldn't hope to identify coming to life and eating it before the light faded back away.

"My second greatest regret," one of Oceanus's crab claws jutting from his ear started tapping his temple. "Harboring these children has been nothing but a miserable headache! If we didn't share a domain I wouldn't even care to make peace, but the fight isn't worth another pain in my-"

"You have not just dishonored Poseidon," Artemis's voice stayed calm, but Annabeth was starting to wonder if she had better luck against the fish too at the danger in the air. Some of the other silverware was starting to gravitate towards the goddess, and she didn't want to know what Artemis would do with a butter knife. "Typhoon nearly destroyed Olympus, you did us all a disservice by attacking Poseidon's home and keeping his attention from the true battle."

"Poseidon's choice-" Tethys came to her husband's defense.

"Now listen here young godling," Oceanus's flower robes began swirling dangerously around him and Annabeth really wished she hadn't left her knife in her cabin.

"I have come to offer a solution," Artemis smoothly kept talking as if Annabeth's hair wasn't standing on end from the danger crackling in the room. Perhaps the goddess could meld all of the silver to her in defense. Annabeth didn't like her chances as much.

Silence, and then the two Titans finally seemed to remember to look at her.

"Me?" Annabeth squeaked.

"She is a natural leader, she will keep your charges calm. She should have been there in the beginning," Artemis's voice was laced with mercury, it was plain as her forehead she was still angry Thalia had been taken without her knowledge, but the slight rift of movement in her auburn hair meant she probably just crossed her ankles and smoothed her shirt before continuing. "I am offering her to be in your court now to keep the god's children in a more quiet peace."

Silence was her answer, Annabeth felt sweat break out on the back of her neck, but she jumped to her feet with confidence. Crumbs fell from the seat of her pants. Her empty hands wished to readjust the straps of her bag and twist up her cap, but she had nothing but her wits about her. The same she'd always had.

"I will not only do this," she promised, wishing she knew what in the god's grand scheming was going on she was promising to do, "but I will do you one better Lord Oceanus. I will design you a new home, an even better retirement home. With soundproof walls."

That got his attention. He finally stared directly at her, his fractured eyes like a tempest.

The Titan was unfathomably old, and tired. Whatever Kronos had promised him for his services, Annabeth had a feeling it had not come to pass.

"I thought you were already in that room," he finally said.

"No dear," Tethy's voice was still patient and calm, if just as strained as her husband's. "The two that are giving me insurance hell are still in there. I'm still on hold, and haven't gotten a single call back from my representative of claims!"

"Ah," he tapped his chin, or tried to, as he tapped one of the crab claws that tapped back like a strange miniature version of paddy cake. "On one condition Artemis. You must take one of them with you. If you're down here interrupting my dinner, than we may have even less time before the rest of the gods such as Hera herself figure out our ploy and I have been assured I will not be involved in that business. My hands are free of this mess once those kids finish their homework and are gone. Any extra soul is already pushing the boundaries."

"A fair trade I will see to myself," Artemis assured. "I have permission to enter your bathhouse?"

"Yes, yes," he waved, eyes still on Annabeth who mouthed bathhouse with dread. "I have your word mortal? On the River Styx? Soundproof walls?"

"With luxury recliners and the best earmuffs in immortal existence," Annabeth assured.

There was no other explanation before Armies jumped on the table and took her hand again, and the last glimpse she had of one of the first immortal beings was the couple exchanging hopeful smiles again like the picture behind them.

...

They were standing in an empty hallway on the cracked floor right in front of a door that had a massive hole through the middle. Inside was a circular room that gave her heart failure, it was in more disrepair than the room she'd just left, its structure hanging on by divine intervention.

There were people inside sitting on green couches and cushions. Strangely only one of them seemed to be talking, their voice coming to her a bit forced as if they were reading something rather than just speaking. She'd practiced enough speeches in the mirror from her many botched and rewritten battle plans to hear the difference in someone's voice.

That voice, she knew that voice...she'd heard it so many times in her life. Exhausted, strained, about to crack with stress, but forcing a smile like nothing was wrong. Happy, laughing, saying her name in every way possible-

Without another glance at the goddess, she pushed the door open as Percy said;

"So," Beckendorf said, "I'm guessing you don't want me to mention that little scene to Annabeth."

"Oh, gods," I muttered. "Don't even think about it."

"Tell Annabeth what?" Annabeth said from the doorway.

[ivecomeforsouls]

Hello to all Linked Universe Fans on Tumblr. Please give me feedback on my first Fanfiction. Let's me know if I should keep writing. Thank you!

----------

Summary: The portal splits off the Chain into mostly there own eras. Wind fights the war if ages, Wild heads off on his second adventure, Time has kids, ect, and they all reconvene five years later to continue there adventure.

I only have one chapter ready at the moment. Do I continue with this story idea or try another one?

----------

Chapter One- Final Watch

Legend had the final watch that night. As he sat not-so-comfortably on a stump that very courteously had decided make its sharper sections known, a small, white portal appeared just behind the sailor.

Legend drew his weapons and shook Time awake, who then proceeded to pull out his own sword and kick Twilight.

"Get up!"

"Out of bed! Weapons out!" Captain ordered as he quickly climbed out of bed. "We've never seen this kind of..." he faltered. He was about to say something more when the portal came and swallowed Wind whole.

"Hyrule! Move!" Legend shot towards him and yanked him backward and away from the portal that had shown up behind him. "Do you recognize these portals? That question had been directed to Warrors, but he was still in a frenzy over Wind.

"Wild!" Time and Twilight shouted in unison and began to pull him out of a portal. As they were doing so, Hyrule was ripped from his arms and through the white circle, and Four's yelp was heard from across camp as he, too, vanished without a trace. Without a trace. At least they were all keeping there stuff. A shout of surprise sounded from Time, but the Captain was too late. He'd already fallen through.

"Who's still here?" Warriors asked as he help Twilight hold onto Wild.

"You, me, Wild, and Twilight." Legend answered.

A loud snore escaped Sky's blanket, and it immediately diapeared on a flask of white light. The Captain did the same and Wild fell through before he noticed that Twilight wad missing. Legend let the portal take him, but he did not allow himself to go unprepared.

----------

No preparation had been necessary. All of his belongings were sprawled across his living room floor, and Ravio was sitting up groggily from where he had fallen asleep at a desk covered in books and maps.

"Mr. Hero?" Ravio yawned. "Welcome home. I have some new deals on display if you'd like to check them out."

"No! Shut up or I'll make you start paying rent!" Legend ran through the event in his mind, attempting to figure out exactly what do next but to no avail. Ravio was fully awake now, and realized that Legend came alone and without the chain.

"Is it over? The adventure?" Ravio asked quietly.

Legend shook his head. "It couldn't be. We didn't do anything. At least, nothing that could have pulled it to a close."

Legend spent the next couple hours talking to Ravio about what happened, and what it could mean.

"So we are absolutely clueless." Legend let out a defeated sigh.

"So it would seem Mr. Hero." Ravio paused for a moment. "Didn't you tell me once about an Orical?"

"Which one? There are three."

"I recall you called her Nayru. The orical of ages? If anyone would be able to provide answers about what's happening in different ages, I think it would be her."

"True. Nayru could probably give me some answers, though I'm not sure if she'd be able to provide something helpful."

They sat there for a moment in silence. Except for Ravio who had slowly made his way back to bed and was lying there suspiciously still, and particularly quiet.

Home | Next Chapter

[socialseasons]

The rest of their journey continued in silence, the gentle rocking of the carriage even managing to lull Francesca into a short sleep before they arrived at the inn. Their stay did not last as long as she had anticipated and honestly she was grateful for it -- As much as she knew that Ben needed to rest, the time that they spent away from camp was needling a restlessness within her, the knowledge that anything could be happening in their absence encouraging thoughts of what exactly such happenings could entail.

So it was a relief to finally be back on camp soil -- Francesca may not have been a resident for an awfully long time prior to this mission, but returning certainly awarded a level of familiarity that she welcomed with open arms.

"Camp is not a place for gowns anyway," she added, knowing without even looking that the hem of her dress had already been dusted with dirt. With a sideways glance towards him, Francesca could not help but notice the stiff way in which he carried himself, a needle of concern pricking against her better judgement. "Are you all right?"

But before an answer could be given, Anna Strong appeared before them, a welcome sight after the events of the days prior. It was mere moments before Francesca was being led away, undoubtedly to tell Anna about the mission and Ben's injury, and in her haste to leave she did not bid goodbye to Ben. It was only when she was about to turn the corner that she glanced over her shoulder, but he was already gone.

--

The next couple of weeks saw an agitation fall across camp that Francesca had not witnessed before, the looming unknown around supplies affording everybody a certain anxiety that tended to come out as snippiness. Working on the sutler cart with Anna had its positives, of course, but it also turned eyes towards her that had not bothered to glance her way before -- "You learn to grow a thick skin," Anna had said, but Francesca was not sure that she would grow used to the unnecessary glares and snipes.

Perhaps that was why, when a woman named Mrs Barnes started showing friendly interest in her, Francesca fell into an easy comradery with the older woman. The kindness that was shown to her led her to realise just how much she had missed female companionship -- There was Anna, of course, but she seemed to be preoccupied these days, a permanent worry in her eyes.

The lack of supplies was surely aiding in that, word spreading across the camp like wildfire. Francesca heard the whispers, the worried assumptions and nasty blamings, and found herself wishing that she could tell somebody about what had happened that night -- How it was not anybody's fault except the cruel men who had chosen to taint their food with poison.

"You all right, love?" Mrs Barnes had asked as they sat to do their mending, icy blue eyes filled with a warmth that reminded Francesca of her mother.

With an unsteady breath, she nodded, plastering on a threadbare smile. "I suppose all this talk of our food supplies has me a little on edge, that is all." It was the truth, after all, and the older woman hummed in agreement, letting out an exasperated huff.

"I've a right mind to think we're not bein' told the whole story," Mrs Barnes replied, her voice hushed lest prying ears overhear. "Whenever anyone asks, there's never a straight answer from the higher-ups. Either they know somethin' we don't or they're as lost as we are -- I just wish someone else had been there when that Major Tallmadge found out about the plot and maybe they'd know something."

"I was." Her voice was quiet yet the words hung heavy in the air between them, punctuated by the widening of Mrs Barnes' eyes, the sparkle that alighted within her gaze as she put down her mending. Francesca swallowed, desperate to tell somebody, yearning for someone to tell her that it would be okay -- And so she spoke.

The older woman listened in silence, taking hold of Francesca's hand and squeezing gently. When the story was complete, she leaned in closer, a newfound intensity in her gaze, a giddy mix of anticipation and excitement that sent a needle of unease through her veins. "You know, I think I might know a way we can help. I'm goin' to need you though, if you were really there with him."

"How?" she asked, brows furrowed in curiosity.

"Not here," came her swift response, glancing around with an almost theatrical air. "Tomorrow night after sundown, meet me down at the clothes fence." She paused, a fire in her gaze as they locked eyes. "Don't tell a soul."

"Shouldn't we at least tell-"

"That Major o' yours? He'll send you back to your tent like a scolded tot - He doesn't care about you, love. He doesn't think you're strong enough. This is something we women have to do alone."

He doesn't think you're strong enough.

"All right." Francesca nodded, a fierce determination flooding through her as she agreed to the plan, an elation within at the thought of being of use at last. Mrs Barnes smiled back at her, giving her hand an affectionate pat.

"Good girl."

Ben supposed he shouldn't be surprised by the query; still, he blinked at her all the same, tapping his fingers together with a hint of hesitance. "Yes and no," he finally allowed. "Growing up under my father's tutelage, he raised me to have pride in this land -- in our self-reliance and perseverance. By the time I wrote to a dear friend encouraging him to enlist, the passion to serve was deeply ingrained in my heart. I couldn't have resisted the call even if I wanted to." He shrugged, looking away. "I imagine that to a woman of refinement, it must seem barbaric...the whole urge to take up a musket. But I can assure you, Mrs. Stirling, God has asked men to go into battle before, and under far direr circumstances than this, so in my heart, I believe I am being encouraged to do what is right."

"Then I pray that you will win."

He hesitated at that, genuinely startled. Ben wasn't sure why, but Francesca's words brought a deep, aching slice between his ribs, crumbling and twisting about as a lump formed in his throat. I have to win, he thought. If he didn't, Hale and Samuel would have died in vain -- he could never let that happen.

Turning his head away, Ben glanced out the window in time to disguise a lone, errant tear, salty and warm as it trailed down into the corner of his mouth. Weak, weak, he was so weak! Why had Samuel not been the one to survive? Why must the world rest upon his incapable shoulders?

Exhaling through his nose, long and slow, he forced back any further sentiment, and resigned himself to a quiet trip.

--

Although Ben was still unwell, he managed to convince Francesca to only rest in a neighboring town for a short while -- barely even a day, truth be told -- and the moment they re-entered camp, he finally felt as though he could breathe again.

With a hand pressed to his midriff, he walked stiffly along the grounds, all the while guiding Francesca with his other arm. "We need to get you back into lower class garb," he decided. "Although it may not be befitting of your rank, if you are truly to blend in with the other camp followers, they will not think much of you if you continue wearing a gown. You'll be heralded too soft to wield a laundry bat."

In truth, she probably was too soft, and the thought brought a crooked smile to his mouth.

Anna appeared around the corner then, nervously twisting her hands. "I heard talk of your arrival," she said, forgoing any greetings. "Just so you are aware, your message was received, and we dumped the tampered flour into the sea...under the pretense that it was first accepted, of course."

Ben breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes shining earnestly. "Thank God," he said. "But why do you seem so nervous?"

"The officers are on edge," she replied. "Where there is one faulty shipment, more are certain to follow... We cannot reject all provisions, Ben. We will surely starve."

He gave a tight nod. "I know," he agreed. "But one problem at a time -- for now, I need you to take Mrs. Stirling and get her into suitable clothing."

"Of course." Anna touched Francesca's elbow, then observed his midriff with a hint of unease. "What happened to you?"

"Never you mind," Ben grumbled. "Just get her taken care of, and then we can worry about the next steps."

[evilkitten3]

multiple people have been complaining about my takes on luz's mom... like ok first of all i never disliked her, not once. believe me, when i don't like a character, i'll say so.

but to get to the point, camila's role in the story is complicated. and you aren't supposed to automatically know exactly what she's thinking. the show opens with the concept of "local middle school weird girl is being sent to bore-ification camp by her mom who wants her to be less weird". that's a scenario that a lot of neurodivergent people can relate to, yours truly included.

a lot of the time irl talks about autism focus on how difficult it can be for the parents, to the point where for a lot of us it's exhausting just to hear someone bring it up. bc we know it's tough on the parents, but it's tough on us too. but in camila's case, it's handled really well. whether luz is autistic or adhd or both or neither, we're not shown a mom who hates her daughter for being true to herself, we're shown one who's concerned about her child's future and just wants what's best for her. you never get the impression that there's anything but love between them. and this show doesn't exactly skimp on the mommy issues.

that said, the story follows luz. so when she's being sent off to camp, you see how upset she is by it, how she feels that who she is is being rejected. as an adult, it's easy for me to understand where camila is coming from. but when i was 14? no way in hell.

luz's mom is probably one of the best fictional moms i've seen in a long time, kids' show or otherwise. her relationship with luz is a lot like mine with my own mom (except unlike luz i do not speak spanish fluently, and my spanish is limited to what little bits my mom drops in here and there). my mom has also sent me off to places for my own good (not sure how many of y'all were here when i got shipped off to wilderness therapy, but... that was A Time), has also had difficulties with accepting me for who i am, and sometimes needs to take a step back and let me explain where i'm coming from.

camila is a flawed person and an imperfect mother. this is actually extremely normal. she has made mistakes and bad decisions. this is also normal. acknowledgement of this, be it in meta or jokes i make while watching the show, is not an attempt to demonize her, to give off the impression that i personally dislike her, or even to imply that she's a bad mom. i have, and this is true, been making jokes about all of the characters this entire time.

but all that aside, for the majority of s1 and a good chunk of s2, we don't see camila. she's spent most of her time as a character so far as more of an idea, as a goal for luz to reach - getting back home to her mom. to be clear, before she pops back up in s2e10, all we've seen from her is her sending her kid off to sad camp and her not realizing that there's a fake luz (which i'd say is justified bc like. why the fuck would she have any reason to think the girl who looked and sounded exactly like her daughter was anyone other than her daughter???). that isn't really a lot to go on.

tldr: i am watching this show for the first time after avoiding as many spoilers as i could. i do not have prior knowledge of these characters. let me consume the story at my own pace and stop expecting me to know things that haven't happened for me yet.

[merakiui]

hello!!<3 can i request an angst scenario (it can have a happy ending it's up to you!!) childe x fem!reader where they are together for some time and she didn't know he's fatui (she hates them bc her parents were in debt and overall they ruined her life and he's too scared to tell her) but she finds out and wants to broke up?? THANK YOU

In which you discover Childe’s ties to the Fatui.

cw: angst, debt, small mention of depression as a result of debt, female reader note - I woke up and chose pain with this one. >:) it also got long;;; oops!

You hate the Fatui. And although that’s such a strong, hurtful word it's your true feelings. You’ve never experienced their wrath firsthand, but you have witnessed what it can do to people. Your sweet, loving parents, who took loans out of the bank in order to pay for repairs to their shop, were reduced to frightful messes at the mere mention of that harrowing F-word.

It’s horrible to see them in such a state, especially since a few agents had come by once and practically demanded the money. As a result of such a distasteful discussion, you refuse to go into any sort of monetary career: trader, merchant, and even a wandering saleswoman. You’ll find a way to make things right by getting a job that will bring in lots of riches for your poor parents. Then the Fatui will have no choice but to leave your family alone.

Your own funds have dried up, having gone into another Fatui agent’s gloved hands. You can’t even argue because you have an inkling as to what will happen when you finally run out of money to give. Ever since this entire debt charade, your parents have become hollow shells of their former selves: paranoid, depressed, and starved of the happiness that comes with being in a regular, debt-free family.

Childe tunes into your rant as if someone had just turned on the switch that designates his listening skills. The two of you are sitting on a lovely hilltop, watching the stars twinkle in and out of focus. Liyue Harbor can be seen from afar, glittering in warm colors of gold and red. If Childe remembers correctly, another festival should be right around the corner. He’ll have to take you when he finds time to slink away from his work.

Speaking of his work, he’s never actually told you about it. When you asked, he simply said it was a job that allowed him to travel. It sounded like a traveling merchant to you—perhaps even a fishmonger specializing in exotic types—considering he was seemingly loaded with Mora. It made you jealous that he was so well-off with his finances, but you couldn’t complain when he so readily emptied his pockets for your sake.

“And then that stupid agent shows up at our door right when I get home! It’s the worst timing ever. My parents were pretending to be out of the house and I showed up and ruined their plan.” A heavy sigh tumbles from your lips as you flop back onto the grass, where Childe fixes you with a lopsided, sympathetic grin. “I hate it. They’re not even themselves anymore. It’s like they lost all sense of life. I’m picking up as many commissions as I can, but it doesn’t even help. The Fatui just take it all faster than I can save it.”

“They’re the worst, aren’t they?”

“And the sky isn’t blue. Of course they’re the worst!” You inhale softly. “No use getting mad about something that already happened, though.”

“You’ll just give yourself more stress and you don’t need that.” He joins you on the plush grass, turning his head to look at you rather than up at the inky night sky. “I can help with your commissions, you know. I’ve been itching to smash some hilichurl camps.”

“I can handle it myself. It’s fine.” Only it’s not and you’ve started realizing that. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Funny. I was going to ask you something, too!”

“Oh. Uh...”

He chuckles, staring at you with blue eyes that don’t sparkle. “There’s this festival coming up and I wanted to take you. It’ll be just the two of us for one night. You can forget all about work and money—”

“What about you? You said your job has you traveling all over the place. That’s why we’ll rarely see each other in the future. Once you’re done here in Liyue, that is.” You move onto your side, holding yourself up on your elbow. “I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Well, my boss doesn’t have to know. It’ll be our tiny secret!”

You roll your eyes, smiling a little. Deep inside you’ve always felt like something was off about his story. For the past few months, he’s remained in Liyue and once you even caught him slipping into Northland Bank when you were running some errands. You hope he isn’t in a similar situation concerning debt and poverty. No, he wouldn’t need to be. He’s shown you just how many lavish things his funds can afford. Why would he be in debt if he has a stable job?

“Are you...doing something bad?”

You could’ve phrased that better, but it’s already out in the open now. Sheepishly, you avoid his befuddled stare, opting to watch the moon as its light becomes obscured behind a dark cloud. An airy chuckle escapes him, but he doesn’t say anything. His silence confirms your fears and it dawns upon you that he hasn’t been truthful this entire time.

“This mask.” It’s in your hands before he can stop you. You’re tapping at it with a finger, equal parts curious and apprehensive. You refuse to beat around the bush; your doubtful gaze catches his and it hardens at once. “You’re Fatui, aren’t you?”

He sits up calmly, holding out his hand. “That’s quite the accusation, my dear. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusion. I’m right, aren’t I?” Now you’re sitting up, staggering to your feet to find some sort of leverage over him. He’s taller than you and far more powerful than he once let on. “Childe, why would—“

He sighs, lowering his hand out of defeat. “I suppose there’s no point avoiding it now. You were bound to find out one of these days.”

“One of these days? What? Like, when my family’s on the streets because the Fatui took our house?”

It hurts that he wasn’t honest and it hurts even more knowing that he has the power to help. He could’ve spent his time working out ways to get you out of debt, yet he decided to shower you in affection and useless trinkets! Trinkets that are only good for selling and receiving money to pay off the debt. You could cry; that’s how much it hurts. And when he makes no solid effort to comfort you, the tears begin to form.

“Of course not. I’d never let that happen!”

“Then why would you lie about it? Why not help me? Why can’t you just be honest? You always avoid questions you don’t want to answer and I hate it! I’ve been with you long enough to know that that mask is bad news. I was just waiting for you to confirm it, but you didn’t.”

You think it’s selfish for wanting his help—for wanting help from a Fatui agent, no less—but you’re too upset to care.

“(Name), you know that’s—“

“What else haven’t you told me? What else have you lied about? I don’t care if you’re trying to protect me. I’m already on a list. The Fatui still show up to my house and you just...let them. Why?”

“If I interfered, it would look bad in front of Her Majesty. You know I can’t go against her orders. I want to help you—I do. But...”

You’re fumbling for new words, at a complete loss with yourself. No matter how many questions you spout, he’ll evade them like they’re optional. And even if you want answers and honesty more than anything right now, you know he’ll fail to provide it. You shove the mask into his hands, shaking your head in disbelief. A swell of emotions overcome you: sadness, anger, and regret. You feel utterly betrayed. The sweet Childe, whom you once thought was your perfect match, is working for the Fatui—the people who have turned your life into misery.

And that’s probably not even the half of it.

“Let’s break up,” you say before he can spin another false tale. Another easy excuse to avoid this downfall. Childe stops short to stare at you in surprise and it’s weird to see that emotion scrawled across his face. He’s usually smooth and collected; he always knows what to say and how to act. Not this time, though. “It’s not going to work if we’re together while the Fatui are hounding my parents. And they wouldn’t approve of our relationship either.”

“Now, (Name), wait a moment. You’re not thinking straight. You’re just—” He struggles to find the correct words and in that small moment between foggy clarity and paralyzing uncertainty he plasters another plastic smile on. “Look. I know you’re upset, but I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was going to tell you eventually. Just had to find the right time to do it, you know?"

“I know. And that’s why we should go our separate ways.” Like Childe, you also put on a faux show, building up your walls as high and strong as his are. You don’t think you’ll last another minute in his presence, as you’re far too close to tears. “Thank you again for tonight. I’ll take my leave now.”

Rather than pain, it’s bitter when your lips fall upon his soft cheek. And the gesture stings harder than a slap on the wrist. 

The searing pain returns when you pull away and begin the descent from the hill as fast as your trembling legs will allow. You refuse to look back and fall into his arms in hopes that he’ll reassure you. The fact that he doesn’t chase after you—doesn’t even call out—stabs your conflicted heart and it’s more than enough confirmation. Childe isn’t exactly boyfriend material. He’s callous when it comes to a battle and he’s driven by his own ulterior motives. Surely this relationship was just a means of spending his extra time when he found himself bored and lacking a fight. Maybe he thought of his work when the two of you were on secretive dates. Maybe his heart was empty when the two of you were intimate. Maybe you were just the glue holding this crumbling bond together.

Childe remains on that hilltop, watching you disappear into the distance. And it’s then when realizes he’s lost you. The feeling is different from the battlefield and it’s far more real than when he’s snooping around as a Harbinger. You’re just a normal, good-natured citizen and he...ruined that part of you. With his ties to an enemy that has crushed your family. He’s partly, if not fully, responsible for what transpired just now and for the first time in a while real guilt gnaws at him. He’s left wondering why he did all of that—why he couldn’t just face your questions head-on.

It’s his fault, isn’t it?

On that windy hilltop, under the silent, disapproving darkness of the sky, he’s left to pick up the pieces of a fractured relationship. And it’s all because he couldn’t admit the truth to his precious girlfriend.

In a way, the Fatui have taken something from him, too, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to patch it up with honeyed promises. 

Looks like we won’t be going to that festival anytime soon...

[asciendo]

Secret Mission

Zuko leaves on a mission with Sokka without telling. 

He expects to be. welcomed with open arms when he returns, but you have other plans for him.

I think I read a fic in the past that inspired me for this one!

It’s been two weeks since Sokka and Zuko left on their secret mission. It wasn’t really a secret on what they were doing but the fact that they left without telling anyone was what made it a secret.

Azula’s ships were spotted two mountains down from the campsite and Zuko knew she was carrying heavy explosives for the war. Him and Sokka were adamant on tracking her ships and destroying the explosives, but they all knew that her ships were heavily guarded.

“Look, we don’t even know if the explosives are actually on the ship!” Katara argued. “No, I do know! I was there when they were planning the transaction!” Zuko paced around the camp.

“I agree with Zuko, it could make a huge difference for the war!” Sokka joined Zuko standing up as well. “Knowing Azula she probably changed her plans since you betrayed her.” You stated as you sat near the campfire because you were cold. “But what if she didn’t because she knew she’d be heavily guarded?!”

“That’s exactly my point! It’s too risky for the just a possibility that the explosives are on those ships!” Katara rolled her eyes at her brother. “THEY ARE ON THOSE SHIPS!” Zuko yelled back.

“Katara’s right. It was such a close call last time...I say we should wait it out.” Aang stated as he fumbled with air between his hands. Two weeks ago, Katara and Aang were trying to infiltrate one of Ozai’s camps to get information on their war plans, but Ozai hired extra mercenaries to protect the camp, which almost got them caught.

“That settles it. We’re not going.” Katara stated and headed back to her tent. The rest did too except you and Zuko. You sighed watching him slump on the floor in defeat. Zuko’s been struggling on his place in the group. He still feels like he has to prove he’s on their side and that he was useful. He never told you that, but you could tell it eats him up inside.

It’s been four months since you both were “officially” together after your failed friends with benefits run.

It was great being out in the open, you didn’t have to hide your affection towards each other, and you had more clarity on your relationship. You were honest and knew each other to the deepest core of who you both were. Although, neither of you could never rest when one was out on a mission while the other was back at camp, worrying on what could happen.

The time you and Katara went to steal food from a fire nation camp, Zuko stayed up all night until both of you returned. You remember seeing his shoulders slump in relief as you walked towards him, you simply winked carrying a crate of food, which he then took from you to carry, then placed a long kiss on your forehead. When him and Aang went to search for the fire bending masters you couldn’t sleep till he returned and jumped at him when he entered your now shared tent.

“Zuko.” You sighed as you sat next to him and leaned your head on his shoulder. He didn’t respond but continued staring at the fire. “Zuko, it’s too dangerous...and knowing Azula, she probably changed her plans with the explosives.”

“I know they’re there. I just know it.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Come on, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”

“You go ahead, I just need to think about some stuff.” You stared at him with a worried expression, but he immediately kissed you on the lips as a form of reassurance. You smiled then left. That was the last you saw him before he and Sokka took off on Appa.

2 weeks later, they still hadn’t shown up and the gang was getting nervous. Aang tried to hide it but he spent his mornings pacing around. Katara would stare at sky hoping for signs of Appa, so did Sukki, Toph would throw boulders while at first you wanted to try to find them, but had no idea where they were, would spend your days around the forest hunting and gathering food to distract yourself.

You were all laid out on the floor when suddenly Suki sat up. “Guys, I hear something.”

“So?” Toph scoffed, “No, it’s coming from above!” Suki jumped on her feet. “Yeah right.” You rolled your eyes, there were so many close calls thinking Sokka and Zuko were flying home that you didn’t want any false sense of hope that you’d see him again.

“NO SHE’S RIGHT IT’S APPA!” Aang ran towards you then fell in excitement. Your heart stopped, could it really be them? You sat up and stared at the sky. It was Appa. And you saw two figures on his back, Sokka and Zuko.

“YIPEEEE!” Aang danced around on an air ball. As soon as Appa landed Katara ran to Sokka and hugged him, so did Suki. Aang was next and squished both Sokka and Zuko in a huge hug and Toph high fived them both. Zuko laughed at all the attention then looked at you with a huge grin expecting you to run up to him as well, which automatically dropped when he saw your angry face.

“GUYS I’M SO HAPPY!” Aang continued to dance around the two. “Me too, but that was SO stupid!” Katara placed her hands on her hips. “Well...guess who destroyed two of Azula’s ships including all the explosives?” Sokka gloated as he strutted around the fire.

“NO WAY! I should have gone!” Toph stomped her foot on the ground which made the earth shake. “So there were explosives on the ships...” Katara blushed in embarrassment. “Told you.” Zuko said, but he was still looking at you with worry in his eyes.

“What took two weeks though?” Suki asked as she plopped herself on Sokka’s lap. “Okay, so good news, all the explosives were gone, bad news was we were captured after.”

“WHAT?!” the rest of you shouted in unison.

“BUT! We escaped and torched the Fire Nation camp that captured us.” Sokka winked.

“Sokka! That is so DANGEROUS! You two could have gotten killed!” Katara was yelling in Sokka’s face. “But we DIDN’T! And now we have a higher chance of winning the war.” Sokka smirked.

Katara and Sokka continued to argue while you and Zuko just stared at each other, both not knowing what to do. Obviously, you were happy he was back and safe but so angry he left and didn’t tell you. A few moments passed and you decided you needed some space.

“Well, I’m glad you both are safe.” You stated and walked into the woods. The gang became quiet and Zuko looked like he saw a ghost. “Uhm, I’m sorry man, but...you’re smoked.” Sokka shrugged and Katara hit him. “OW!”

You needed to be alone for a bit so you were taking your usual walk in the forest, forgetting for a bit that the trail was the same one you and Zuko took every night.

“Y/N!” you heard footsteps running behind from you, but you kept walking. “Hey, come on.” He placed his arm on your shoulder, so you turned around.

You looked at him with painful eyes and he softened his grip on you. “What’s wrong?” he placed his arms on your shoulders.

Both of you stood there for a bit, him waiting for you to say something, trying to read you. Suddenly, your soft expression turned into a hard one and you slapped Zuko right across the face.

He stumbled back grabbing his cheek that was now slightly pink. “WH-WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”

“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” You yelled and continued walking. “DO WHAT?” Zuko followed you but now he was mad as well. “LEAVE!”

“I had to leave! Those explosives could have hurt hundreds of people, and we destroyed a fire nation camp as well.” He tried to explain himself but you kept walking away from him.

“I was right, wasn’t I? The explosives were on those ships!”

“That’s not the point Zuko!” you raised your arms in exasperation. “We destroyed the explosives that would be used against us! How could you be mad about that?!”

“That’s not why I’m mad!” you rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “Then why don’t you tell me instead of us wandering around here like idiots!”

“Y/N, will you please stop walking!” Zuko groaned in annoyance.

“No.”

“You’re impossible.” Zuko growled but still continued to follow you. “Then go back to camp!”

“No, I’m not leaving till we fix this.” You could hear a bit of desperation in his voice.

“Then too bad.”

“Y/N, we did what had to be done! It’s not like we left for no reason!”

“You really don’t get it, do you Zuko?” You stopped walking then looked at him, clearly he was clueless. “No, because you won’t tell me!” you sighed then gave up.

“You could have told me you were leaving!” You pleaded for him to understand but you could tell he wasn’t getting what you were trying to say. “It was my choice and you would have told me not go.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Yes but I would have known where you were.”

“What difference would that make? I still would have gone.” There was a pang in your heart because Zuko still had no idea what it was like wondering if he was alive every single day.

“Zuko...do you know what it was like waking up and you were gone. Not knowing if you were alright, if you were captured or or—“ tears started to trickle down your face. Zuko’s eyes widened and his hard expression quickly turned to softness and worry. The only time Zuko’s ever seen you cry was when you received news that your childhood home was burned down in the Fire Nation as they considered your father a traitor. The truth was, he was like Zuko, he knew what they were doing was wrong and left.

“You just left...without telling me...and I wondered everyday, every night, if you were okay and just hoped that I’d see you sleeping next to me somehow and that this was all just a bad dream.”

“Y/N I—“

“What if you died, Zuko?!”

“I didn’t—“

“But you could have and I’d be here...not knowing what even happened to you!”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes were pleading and you could see the remorse in his face.

“Do I mean that little to you?” Zuko’s face dropped and he instantly walked towards you and grabbed your face.

“Y/N...you mean everything to me.” He whispered as he caressed your face. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I thought it would be better...because you wouldn’t know what we were doing, so you wouldn’t feel guilty if anything happened...” he looked down, realizing how wrong he was. Zuko suddenly remembered all the times you went on a mission without him and how helpless he felt that he wasn’t there to protect you. He’d spend days with no sleep, pacing around the camp while looking for any sign of you returning. “It wasn’t better! Even if I didn’t like what you were doing but at least have the compassion to tell me!” you tried to pull away from his grasp, but he held on tighter.

“I know... I wasn’t thinking. I was just so sure I was right and I knew it would make a huge difference and I just wanted to—“

“You just wanted to prove you deserve to be on Aang’s side.” You finished and Zuko nodded slowly. Zuko was always skeptical if the team really trusted him, especially due to the fact that he used to chase them around trying to capture Aang.

“Zuko, it’s been months. Everyone trusts you and respects you, remember we’re on the same boat here, I’m from the Fire Nation too, you know.”

“I do...it’s just, I did horrible things to them. I always feel like I have to make up for it.” he turned away from you. “Zuko, you don’t have to make up for anything, I’m so proud of you for all that you’ve done, and how much you’ve changed. I just thought I had a bigger place in your life for you to tell me.”

“You are the biggest part of my life, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt that.” he cupped your face with his hands once more. “I’m so sorry I ever made you feel that way, it was selfish and—“

“And I’m so proud of how brave you are...it just scares me sometimes that you could just be gone...”

“Don’t you think I feel the same way when you’re out on missions?”

“At least you know where I’m going.” You smirked and he sighed but laughed after.

“I’m sorry, I should have been more considerate.” You smiled lightly. “But don’t ever think you mean little to me. You’re the only good thing in my life.” He kissed you on your forehead and you melted into his arms.

[probably-haven]

Spoilers Galor ...... it is time.... for me to do what ive been considering for quite some time

this is my arguement... on why, whether romantically or platonically, i think you should ship or bro-ship,...... Childe.... and Albedo

HERE ME OUT I SWEAR PLEASE IT MAKES SENSE IN MY HEAD- JUST GIVE IT A CHANCE! rarepair shipping is painful- join me

OR DONT EVEN IF YOU DONT WANT TO GIVE THE SHIP A CHANCE I DO A LOT OF ANALYSIS ON ALBEDO AND CHILDE’S CHARACTERS INDIVIDUALLY, AS WELL AS THE FATUI, THEYRE METHODS, AND THE RELATION WITH MONDSTADT- AND OTHER STUFF- just- if you like reading different analysis-es of the game or ship material or anything- 

please just consider skimming it possibly- 

so for the first section of my argument, i will cover why this is a largely feasible possibility, so let’s set the stage

- Childe is from Snezhnaya, and he is shown to have a large amount of ties to his home, including but not limited to; his family, ice fishing, and just a large number of nostalgic references in his voice lines. 

- Because of this it’s a pretty common occurrence that he finds himself feeling homesick, as with many of the other Fatui.

- This is why he, like many of the other Fatui, so frequently visit and camp within Dragonspine, where the cold snowy atmosphere serves to remind them of home and the things they left behind.

- also in his birthday letter, it says he canonically visits Dragonspine, but explaining it this way gives it feeling 

- so considering that he would be in Dragonspine relatively often, and given the large number of Fatui camps in there regardless, it’s pretty clear he’d have heard of Albedo. So onto Albedo (unfortunately i wasnt there for his event so i dont have as much fuel, but it is what it is)

- there’s a few things that need to be asked first- It’s pretty clear that Albedo must have some interaction with the Fatui given the sheer number of them that camp in Dragonspine. Evidentially, he’s still alive so the question is why? and there’s a few possible explanations for this.

     - He just sneaks around a lot or avoids them (this i think is unlikely, as it would limit his actions while conducting experiments as well as the places where he’d be able to conduct them, which isn’t a big deal, but when there are other options I don’t think this is the one he’d pick)      - He just pulls a traveler and kills them (i don’t think he would do this except for as a last resort, he’s rather disconnected from any sense of empathy yes, but his time is better spent elsewhere. If it comes to that, it comes to that and he will, but he wouldn’t do it as his first option) (also i dont use geo characters much so idk how good he’d be at breaking their shields in this case)      - The Fatui don’t bother or attack him out of their own choice

- i think the third is the most likely, which sounds dumb but hear me out. 

- something that is stressed time and time again during the mondstadt archon quest is the fact that nobody wants to increase the always present strain on diplomatic relations between Mondstadt and Snezhnaya.      - Sure the Fatui do not care very much about this and have many ways to get around this. Signora attacking Venti (technically not a diplomat, and by disappearing she had plausible deniability; traveler’s words against her own, and really both traveler and Venti weren’t supposed to survive that, hence “leave no trace”), or the Fatui constantly attacking the traveler, (who’s canonically travelling alone with only Paimon, always on the move and encountering many unfamiliar dangers, not hard to clear up)      - However despite this, I still believe that Albedo’s safety(and by extent that of Sucrose and Timeus) on Dragonspine is maintained by a mixture of political agreement, situational convenience, and Albedo’s own actions

- its difficult for this to work but i believe it’s the most likely answer, combining all three possibilities that i mentioned above.  - Albedo is an official Knight of Favonius, so his death would cause a pretty dramatic commotion, and since he’s been in Dragonspine for as long as he has, if he was found dead outside of his lab- or suddenly disappeared, the first person to blame would be the Fatui.

- “But Flurp! what about the stuff you mentioned earlier, with Senora’s attack and the Fatui always going after the traveler?”

- context is key. The traveler is a traveler, and Venti was a necessity to achieve their goal. The traveler is also a huge threat to what they are trying to do, since the Fatui have probably heard of their accomplishments. Them attacking Venti was inevitable, no matter the strain it would cause. The fact that the traveler was there as well was merely coincidence in my opinion

- again “leave no trace” means the intent was that both the Traveller and Venti weren’t meant to survive. This is important because if the traveler disappeared, they would have vanished shortly after finishing what they had to do in mondstadt and thered be no reason to suspect anything had happened to them, just that they had moved onto Liyue. 

- Venti would pose risk, but again, the pros outweighed any risk it could have posed to their relations.

- with the Fatui regularly attacking the Traveler, again, that’s easy to clear up and would be difficult to pin on the Fatui, assuming how long it would take to realize they were gone (because despite helping so many people, its still natural to assume they’ve just travelled elsewhere)

- Albedo on the other hand, is technically a legal official, because of his high rank in the knights. He is also only ever really found in Dragonspine and Mondstadt the city. And he is well familiar with the dangers of Dragonspine, so if he were to die there it would be assumed to be either at the hands of the Fatui, or one of his own experiments.

- Thus attacking him is very high risk(unlike the traveler), and since he has nothing to do with their plans, low reward(unlike Venti). 

- So most likely he doesn’t needlessly interact with the Fatui, but should an experiment need to expand into the space of one of their camps, it’s likely he would need some kind of documentation to do so. At the same time, Albedo himself would also not be able to harm the Fatui who frequent the mountain. I TOOK WAY TO LONG TO EXPLAIN THAT UGGGGHHHHHHH anyways

- So set the stage, Childe is visiting Dragonspine, right? And he hears from whichever Fatui Camp he happens to stop in about the one Knight of Favonius that they keep seeing around Dragonspine, the one who just last week came to them with a stack of documents saying they would have to move their camp, it’s annoying but they have orders not to attack him. 

- and then there’s Childe, who’s been living in Liyue, surrounded by people who basically fear Dragonspine as if its some kind of deadzone, and he just assumed that for anyone not from Snezhnaya, thats exactly what it was. He assumed nobody but the Fatui would dare even visit there, let alone be there as frequently as whoever this person was. 

- And he’s got to be pretty important for there to be orders not to attack him, right?       - cue Childe’s unique brand of curiosity, so he asks more, apparently the fellow has a geo vision, and had been spotted taking down or even just lurking by a number of Dragonspine’s dangers as though it was merely routine       - cue flashback to when he first met the traveler, instantly hesitant, hostile, and potentially even afraid towards him as soon as he realized he was Fatui, even before revealing himself as a harbinger.

- so what was it about this guy that made him so convinced he could walk into a Fatui camp alone, order them around, and still walk out alive. Even Childe could admit how underhanded the Fatui were at times, their true orders could have been anything

- He’s not just going to leave now, no. So he asks more questions and figures out that they did at one point scout out his lab while the Knight was out, and give him the location. He’s a harbinger, what are they gonna say “sorry sir, can’t tell ya” no, these bitches see him with the same amount of fear they’d have for Dotorre or Scaramouche or La Signora or any of the others- you don’t just tell a harbinger “no”

- So anyways Childe decides to check it out 

- in the case that Albedo’s mid experiment in his lab when this happens, he’ll probably assume it’s a Knight, since the Fatui haven’t tried anything in quite some time and would just send off a quick “I am in the middle of an experiment right now, I would prefer not to be disturbed”      - and Childe would laugh at his voice because let’s be honest, he thinks of himself as a Chad and it just sounds “weak” to him, and then the scenario leads into what would happen even if he wasnt mid-experiment

and now a look into Albedo’s perspective

- let’s assume that the Knights heard about the Traveler’s role in what happened in Liyue, since it’s kind of common knowledge that Childe was the one who did it, and the traveler doesn’t exactly try to hide that he fought Childe. So considering how often the knights and the Fatui clash, and what happened with Signora, they would likely ask the traveler about it, in order to be better prepared, and for that same reason i feel like the traveler would tell them some of it. 

- so in this situation, it’s likely that Albedo would recognize him and likely know an amount of his combat abilities, and the thing with the fake seals of permission/Osial, but I don’t think the Traveler would have given told any more than that

- so here’s Albedo, surrounded by Fatui camps, knowing that he knows more about this Harbinger than the other thinks he does and assuming that Childe knows more about him himself, but just how much does he know.

- it’s the first time one of the Fatui has come to his lab in- he doesn’t know how long (other than the occasional instance of a wounded member risking the encounter in a moment of desperation. He’s observed that those who wield hydro have never been present in any of these instances, and are most likely designated as healers, but he isn’t in the best position to find out.)      - and the fact that the first Fatui to come to his camp(out of anything other than necessity) is a Harbinger, is certainly very off putting, as he knows that Childe most certainly has the ability to change the orders of the Fatui around him whose cooperation with him is something that he recognizes as very fragile

- and he knows it’s unlikely, in the back of his mind he keeps recalling that this specific Harbinger is the one who resurrected a dead god for the purpose of destroying a city (flashback to the famous “if I destroy Mondstadt” line) but he reminds himself that it’s highly improbable and thus illogical to jump to that conclusion, but he is nonetheless very on edge with Childe’s presence

- However, as with the rest of the Fatui, his hands are legally tied, and unless Childe moves to attack him, any move he makes would only serve to reflect on the rest of the knights

- As such neither would attack the other in this scenario, though Childe would very much want to, and Albedo would very much be prepared to.      - and both of these people are very observant (Albedo in the general sense and Childe in the ‘reading body language for combat’ sense) so both of them are completely aware of that, though Albedo would probably acknowledge that it may just be a result of his own paranoia

- However, unless Childe has orders otherwise, he tends to approach interactions with a more amiable attitude, extending his hand and introducing himself as “Childe,” less flamboyant than normal, because yes he’s extra, but not an idiot, he’s not gonna say “hey girlie, hold still” when the guy obviously has his hand tensed like that, “discretely” ready to reach for whats assumed to be a weapon, a melee one based on the position, sword or polearm probably

- Albedo, isn’t really one for pleasantries though, he has a number of things he still needs to do, and he does not want this Harbinger in or nearby his camp. “I’m aware” he says, giving his full attention, so as not to be caught off guard, and to get this over as quickly as possible. “I assume you have some purpose behind this visit. I am rather busy at the moment, so i would prefer that we keep this interaction brief.”

- and Childe is a little shit who still doesn’t know how to associate violence and hostility with any kind of bad vibes so he just laughs and holds up his hands “relax relax, I’m not here on business, no need to be on edge, right?”

- But Childe has a tendency while speaking to, knowingly or unknowingly, give his words a rather ominous tone. That and the fact that Albedo is in his lab, one of few places in Dragonspine where any misfortune that might befall him could be pinned on his own experiments keeps him from letting down his guard just yet. 

HOWEVER i cant do dialogue... and this isn’t technically a fanfiction so i can summarize-

- Childe is basically all like “so why the shit are you in dragonspine comrade? i thought yall hated it”

- and albedo is all “experiments and this is where my lab is, is ” but like- not key details cuz he isnt going to reveal stuff to the fatui

-and Childe basically be like “ why up here, isnt there other places,” cuz he legit doesn’t get it. He gets that his mindset isn’t the norm, so he’d assume Albedo would want to do anything to avoid Dragonspine and its dangers like what seems to be the norm for what most people hes interacted with have generally agreed

- and Albedo says some flowery words for like oh “In the pursuit of knowledge if one allows themselves to be dissuaded by potential dangers, then they will find it quite difficult to progress beyond that which is already known”

- which, is important cuz it reflects Childe’s mindset on getting stronger, so he’s like yeah, checks out, and being the extroverted shit he is, he has the guts to ask “aren’t you gonna ask why im in dragonspine?” or something because honestly he likes talking about himself, and thats a topic that doesnt have to do with the fatui so it’s an easy way to make conversation.

- and Albedo, who has by now slightly relaxed just enough to resume preparing the experiment he was preparing before Childe came in. and all passive aggressively is like “The same as the rest of the Fatui, most likely. Now if you don’t mind I do have a number of experiments to conduct and I’m afraid it can get rather dangerous, so it would be best that you take your leave now”

- and Childe gets the message that he’s essentially being told to fuck off but he’s also cheeky as shit and absolutely loves to test his luck so he’d be all “I thought you said not to be dissuaded by potential dangers” sounding all proud of himself for using the other’s words against him 

- and Albedo doesn’t have time for this so he just turns back towards Childe, same tone and same face as before, and repeats “it would best that you take your leave”

- Now Childe doesn’t see this as a challenge persay, but he sees how easily it can turn into one, and speaks the two cliche words “make me”

- but Albedo is also a little shit and just turns to resume his experiment, letting out a sigh “Stay if you’d like. I didn’t consider this possibility but I may have to request my lab be made off limits to the Fatui. A shame, I didn’t plan to return to Mondstadt for quite some time”

- and Childe, he’s decently smart- and he knows a number of things, 1 the other harbingers are gonna be pissed if they find out he caused more work for them again, 2 this individual is interesting and he very much wants the opportunity to fight them in the future, and 3 he’s not involved in politics and should Albedo follow through, the Harbingers wouldn’t give 2 shits if he asked them to try and get the change reversed.

- and so he leaves, but he’ll be back

- Albedo’s threat may have given him the upper hand for now, but it also served as a challenge he wouldn’t forget.       - of course it’s not really that big a deal though, just if he’s ever in Dragonspine again and there’s nothing nearby to kill, he’d keep it in mind, and hey, best case scenario he can get more information to contribute to the Fatui

OKAY

- so now that Childe is gone and Albedo is able to reflect on the interaction, at first he’s just relieved nothing bad happened

- within the following day he reflects once again, deciding that the Harbinger most likely wasn’t lying about his intentions, he truly did seem seem to merely have been curious as he had claimed

- in hindsight he also realizes that conversing with him may also allow him to confirm or deny a number of the theories he had on the Fatui, or perhaps raise more questions for him to look into that he had not yet considered... or at least it could as long as he was careful about how he asked.

- AND THUS there a few more meetings, many are purely conversational, each trying to get knowledge from the other while being fully aware that the other is trying to do the same      - not the type of battle Childe is used to, and it does get boring at times, but it’s all part of the game so he persists

- and eventually, as Albedo recognizes this as a regular thing, he begins enlisting Childe’s help in a number of experiments. Just figuring that since he’s doing an experiment and Childe is there regardless, it’s the most efficient option. That and it keeps the more dangerous questions to a minimum, often redirecting the questions towards alchemy, a much safer topic that he does not need to step so carefully around in order to discuss.

- There comes a point where Childe decides to point out the fact that Albedo most often has him help out with combat-requiring aspects of his experiments, and questions why

- Albedo, figuring it was obvious, reminds him of the conversation a few visits ago, where Childe mentioned his drive to get stronger, and(to requote) said that if he didn’t feel these opponents were sufficient to increase Childe’s strength, he could always bring in a couple Oceanids to fight. He then points out afterwards that ruin guards are a bit easier to fight with a bow

- Mixed responses from Childe including but not limited to      - quickly refusing in the language of hydro vision panic, followed quickly by      - oh, so he’s been trying to help this whole time, to-      - how the fuck would he bring Oceanids to Dragonspine, is that even possible?      - followed by curiosity

- and so he brings up the point that he’s never seen Albedo fight, which is a shame. “If you can’t take them down on your own just say so, no need to make excuses.” because heck yeah he’s going to taunt him, I mean this is Childe

- which of course Albedo returns with “If you want to see me in combat, follow your own advice” because of course, by now he knows about Childe’s combat obsession, like you don’t need to know him that long to figure it out, its kind of obvious. 

- but he recognizes the intention, so he finishes what he’s doing checking what he needs for his future plans before exiting the lab, Childe following behind him, eager to see his future opponent in action

- so albedo goes to a ruin guard/grader/hunter(one of those), because otherwise it’s hilichurls or abyss mages and he knows enough to be able to tell that’s not exactly the kind of opponent Childe meant, and he would prefer not to have the topic brought up again, if he knew how to avoid it.

- so Childe stands back and Albedo, who is well accustomed to having to defeat the enemies in Dragonspine in order to get components for his alchemy knows exactly how to kill this bitch cuz honestly, the number of these guys he’s probably killed for research purposes is astronomical, so it’s done rather quickly and methodically, as if just another part of routine, exactly the way that it had been described when Childe was first asking the Fatui at that one camp about the alchemist.

- And that interest/intrigue that had started in the side of Childe’s mind and grew over time into one of the reasons(tho not the main reason) that he would often go to Dragonspine... it multiplied exponentially

- cue a few more visits and a new turning point occurs

Klee

- Childe comes to visit, and upon arriving at the lab he sees a child

- cue Childe approaching again, amiable grin on is face “and who’s this young lady”       - because it’s literally canon that he’s good with kids

.....

- but Klee isn’t any kid

- and Klee was there for the briefing so she has just as much information on Childe as any of the other higher ranking knights      - and only that much information

- a short time later they’re cleaning up the scattered remains of what was Albedo’s last experiment, lucky that the explosion was set off near the entrance so the damage wasn’t too extensive

- “Please don’t tell Master Jean, Dodocco said he was sorry”

- Cue Childe’s “I’m not a bad guy... okay I’m kind of a bad guy” quote       - “but I mean no harm, I’m a friend of Albedo’s”

- and Albedo’s standing there like when I agree to that but he wants to see how this plays out

- and I’m really unfamiliar with Klee’s characterization, but you get the point Childe is canonically god at kids, he’s gonna learn that Klee’s basically Albedo’s little sister, Klee’s gonna get attached to him and remind him of his siblings back home, Childe’s interaction with Klee is basically what gets Albedo to start actually somewhat trusting Childe as opposed to just using him from a metaphorical distance and subtly helping in ways that wouldnt really negatively impact the knights

- and now that hes no longer actively distrustful his mind is more open to actually becoming attached, as he now begin to recognize that that which he initially believed to be mere manipulation tactics was actually just... Childe being genuine, or as genuine as a person can be in their situation

OKAY OKAY OKAY NOW THAT ALL THAT IS ESTABLISHED I CAN GET INTO THE DYNAMIC 

- so theres the obvious things i already mentioned, like their mutual extreme drive to improve in their respective fields that separates them from others, even within their own respective groups/organizations which already(to an extent) separate their members from most others

now lets talk about this point specifically

- both Childe and Albedo are capable of helping each other grow in their respective fields.

- two things that have the potential to cause Childe trouble and lessen his combat ability and the problems with his delusion and his foul legacy transformation

- these two things are things likely unlike anything that Albedo has been able to study before (tho delusions he might have some experience with- but it’s unlikely) and it would likely be able to expand his knowledge, were he given the opportunity to experiment them, while simultaneously helping childe improve his strength

HOWEVER

- both of them know just how fragile the relationship(whatever it is) between them is, how quickly tensions can shift and orders can change, so in order to protect both the other and themselves they both understand that actually going through with this wouldn’t truly be safe and both sides could get in trouble for it

- because no matter what they do there will always be a constantly present risk hanging over their heads, but ill come back to that

- Dragonspine      - in a lot of Albedo ships, the other character has to go through the effort of going to Dragonspine, which tends to serve as an obstacle for the relationship to be overcome (exception of sucrose and... idk do people ship him with Timeus? just in case, recognizing them both as potential exceptions)       - However, in the case of Childe, who legitimately enjoys coming to Dragonspine, he wouldn’t hesitate to visit Albedo      - with most it becomes “wow, i haven’t seen Albedo in a while, gee, i wish he’d come down the mountain, nonetheless i am a good lover so i shall make the harsh trek to see my beloved”      - with this bitch Childe tho it’s more like “oops, feelin’ homesick, Imma see how Albedo’s doing, hope he’s made progress, wonder if Klee will be there” or “Wow I haven’t seen Albedo in awhile. Finna finish up these fatui duties real quick and head over, if i say im checking on the Fatui stationed there, I dont even have to ask to go on leave” (he gets in trouble for not officially asking for a day off anyways)

-anywho, Childe is largely used to interacting with the Harbingers, who always seem to have some other secret second layered plan of sorts that he’s not always informed about (ex: him being intended to fail when he summoned Osial, but being kept in the dark about it), which conflicts with Childe’s relatively straight forward nature      - Albedo also possesses the potential to be similar, however he doesn’t often see the need for such things, preferring to be frank about his goals and expectations, so unlike with his fellow harbingers, Childe knows that when Albedo tells him something or asks something of him, what he’s being told is usually exactly what actually is true/intended. And if it’s not, Albedo is the kind of person to explain that it’s something he can’t tell him, which he understands, since he has his own share of things he cant share because of his Fatui alignment.

- there is going to be an interaction where at some point Childe is rambling about his family back home, and Albedo questions him about what they look like, a few days later handing him a surprisingly accurate drawing of his siblings      - “I did have to try to check appearance with the traveler but unfortunately they weren’t in Mondstadt, do I do hope there aren’t too many inaccuracies”      - Homeboy doesn’t cry(probably) but he gets really fucking close      - cue socially isolated Alchemist boy misunderstanding and trying to apologize, which Childe responds to by just hugging him- because both of these boys are touch starved and honestly they fucking need it. 

- and now that Childe knows Albedo doesn’t actually have a significant boundary on physical affection, as with most Childe ships... it happens a lot

- headcanon that Childe tends to just lean/rest his head on things like a dog.  - additional headcanon that Albedo tends to have a need to keep his hands busy at all times     - so just cue the scene where Albedo is working on experiments as usual, Childe watching from behind with his head rested on his shoulder and Albedo just absentmindedly playing with his hair with one hand while the other continues with his work

- also talking with Albedo gives Childe a a lot of harmless fun facts and he loves rubbing it in they’re faces when he gets to correct one of the other harbingers on something because of this

- Albedo does also have a tendency to overthink things though, and Childe’s more straight forward mindset gives a new perspective that helps him work around issues more often than he would have expected

- Also Albedo’s love language is totally words of affirmation (i will die on this hill, he doesn’t even realize he does it probably). So he wouldn’t hesitate to sincerely thank or praise Childe whenever he helps or does something good. And Childe is a Fatui, most of the praise he gets is from the subordinates who admire him yes, but also lowkey highkey fear him, and especially after all of Liyue knows he summoned Osial basically, he is pretty damn starved for affirmation and praise and wouldn’t even notice just how much until Albedo gave that to him.      - like Childe is over here melting into a puddle of fluff and Albedo probably wouldn’t even realize what he’s doing, he’s just stating his observations out loud

- Childe and Albedo making a pinkie promise, Childe does the little Snezhnayan chant, and Albedo’s gaze just shifts slowly towards the nearby frozen lake in intense concern

- They go ice fishing with Klee who introduces Childe to fish blasting and it’s a whole new world of possibilities now. Albedo has many regrets.

- the harbingers have all basically figured it out by now and are concerned about security but mostly they just mock him for it      - the Fatui stationed in Dragonspine however, probably know because 1 they’ve seen Childe with Albedo almost every time he visits, and Childe brags about it regularly           - at this point a majority of them ship it and needless to say Albedo’s risk of death via Fatui has gone down significantly, and it’s had a surprisingly positive benefit on relations between the knights and Fatui overall

- the Knights took a bit longer to catch on, since Albedo isn’t exactly in Mondstadt all that often, but it’s the city of freedom, what are they gonna do? say no? again, they are concerned about security risks, but trust Albedo to recognize what should be withheld.

- also its canon that Childe enjoys cooking, and Albedo has a line about like... let me look it up rq- It’s his “Least Favorite Food” line which talks about how he doesn’t eat at restaurants cuz he has a small appetite and doesn’t want to waste food, which is unfortunate cuz then he has to spend time making his own food      - idk its kind of small but i just saw it and thought it was kind of a cute detail

- Childe is a chaotic bean and we love him for it      - on the other hand Albedo is more calm and patient, able to put up with this, and realistically, he has enough experience with Klee to not accidentally put him out or down or otherwise dampen his natural personality...... it’s just when the two of them get together that Albedo experiences true fear.

- Albedo: I have an idea for an experiment but the Jean has suggested that the risk is- - Childe: you should do it! - Albedo: -that the risk is too great and has disallowed me from continuing it - Childe: Oh? well she can’t tell me not to it, now can she?  - Both: *mutual gremlin noises*

anyway... im probs gonna add more to this later.... I’m just really bad at coming up with ship dynamics- so my main point in this is to get people to realize that it possible and that it could work- because there is... nearly 0 material on it- and i just think it has the potential to be so wonderful but I do not have the potential to make it that way. Like it has the potential for so many different dynamics and iconic moments and theres so many reasonable ways they could meet and just so many possibilities and im just really hoping to show the ship to more people because, y’know, it’s rare and i want them to suffer from the lack of content too, because I’m just a kind person like that.

i would have put it under a cut if i could, but i have no idea how to do that so... apologies...

[aftgandotherbooks]

First time Neil cries in front of the foxes- Aaron

Aaron’s experience in witnessing Neil cry for the first time is quite different, and much more… passionate and confusing? You see, besides having Nicky take the twins in, and obviously having Katelyn in his life, Aaron hadn’t had much experience with kindness. Not many people have shown him what kindness is like, and thus he doesn’t know how to be kind. Which explains his asshole attitude

For Neil, until he met the Foxes, he had never experienced true kindness from anyone he considers family, or just anyone at all really. His perceived experience of kindness was the fierce and harsh protection his mother gave him. Aaron can relate to this as well with having his brother and his questionable means of protection.

One day Neil was in the library after Kevin’s 30-minute rant of why he has to actually try to pass his classes to be able to play exy.

He was sat at a computer trying to do the research for his psychology paper on the history of the DSM and how diagnosis of mental illness has progressed over the years.

Aaron, who also had a bio exam to study for was in the library trying to find a good spot to camp out for a few hours trying to wrap his head around the many factors of the nervous system.

After almost 8 months of joint therapy with his brother, he learned many things about himself, his brother… and unfortunately of Neil. One was Neil was fiercely protective of Andrew, as much as Andrew hates loves it. Aaron respects that.

It’s because of this begrudging respect, when Aaron saw Neil in the corner of the library hunched over a computer, he decided to sit next to Neil and pack out all his books and start studying.

Aaron had it all planned out, he was going to get through the parasympathetic nervous system the first hour and then move on to the sympathetic nervous system the next so that he can avoid falling behind with his meticulously made study schedule.

That is until he looked at Neil’s computer on what he was researching.

You see, Katelyn wants to be a neurosurgeon one day and has done a few psychology courses already. Aaron always loved listening to her passionate rants about mental illness and how completely unfairly the medical system had been treating and stigmatising those suffering with mental illness over the years and still today. Aaron himself has gotten very passionate about the topic.

So, seeing Neil who was completely oblivious to Aaron sitting next to him while trying to understand the journal articles he’s finding on mental illness and huffing every few seconds when not understanding half of what they say, Aaron kept an eye on him

After 5 minutes of Neil not moving past the same highlighted sentence, Aaron made a decision.

Aaron sighed as if trying to be nice is the worst chore he’s ever had to do, he said “the null is that’s there’s no difference between the two variables. You want to reject that there’s no difference”

Neil jumped, only then noticing Aaron as the person who was sat next to him. He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, “in the results section, where it says the research null hypothesis for the study was rejected, it means that what they were trying to find… was proven to be found in the study they conducted. That’s good, that’s what you want to hear.”

Aaron was… actually being helpful… kind…for once. Neil furrowed his eyebrows and read the sentence he’s been stuck on for the last 5 minutes again. And. Lightbulb moment.

It finally made sense! He clicked back to the other tabs of articles he’s been trying to figure out and it was like he just figured out a whole new language.

“Um… yeah thanks, that… actually helped a lot.” Neil said, refusing to look at Aaron.

“Yeah well… Katelyn’s been chatting my ears off after doing psychology stats last year” Aaron said, looking back to his own work.

Neil took a minute to process that Aaron actually helped Neil. Aaron, who spent a majority of his freshman year antagonising, or ignoring Neil’s existence completely… was being nice to him. Granted Neil wasn’t being very polite back.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Neil spoke again.

“Um… I actually found an article on the long-term effects of the different types of medications for bipolar. You should show it to Katelyn, she told me the other day that she’s interested in neuropsychology. She um… might find it interesting” Neil said in attempt of making conversation.

You see, Aaron and Neil having been trying to be civil after a major breakthrough in therapy when Andrew actually snapped and started yelling at Aaron about how ungrateful and pathetic Aaron had been acting for the few years they’ve known each other. After that, they started to communicate more, even if that communication meant playing video games with the occasional comment here and there, and sometimes grabbing lunch when they had a break between classes. Andrew and Aaron made a promise that they’ll actually try this time to be brothers. And this meant trying with their partners as well.

So, when Neil threw the ball, Aaron caught it.

Slowly and gruffly at first, Aaron started talking about what he learned from listening to Katelyn talking about how medication for mental illness should only be given when all other types of therapy have been attempted.

This conversation then moved onto medical trials and how unfair it is that medical trials were forced upon juveniles.

Which moved onto Andrew.

Turns out, when Betsy talked about the medication Andrew was forced to take and how severely Andrew was affected, Aaron spent days figuring out what exactly the medication was.

Aaron then told Neil about what he found. It was medication for major depressive disorder, and the medication specifically targeted the dopamine system… which would have been effective if the dose wasn’t so excessively strong for Andrew. Aaron told Neil about how instead of levelling the chemicals Andrew’s brain was lacking, it increased it past a healthy point, which resulted in making Andrew manic a majority of the time.

Neil listened to Aaron talk, taking notes for future research on ways to help Andrew overcome the trauma and side effects he faced from the long-term use of the medication alone.

The more Neil listened to Aaron’s passionate rant about the unfair treatment and mishandling of mental conditions, the more he saw how much Aaron really cared for his brother.

It got to the point where they were going on about how much Andrew changed over the last year and how he adapted to such terrible conditions throughout his life.

Talking about this was taxing to both boys. Neil actually started to get tears in his eyes, and Aaron too. Both refused to look the other in the eye, instead focussing on the computer screen in front of Neil.

When Aaron’s phone alarm went off to remind him to start studying the sympathetic nervous system, they both went quiet. They then looked at each other.

Aaron said “you’re still an insufferable asshole”

And Neil said “and you’re still an ugly midget dickhead”

“You’re dating my twin!” Aaron sputtered

“So?” Neil smirked and raised his eyebrow

And so, they both wiped their eyes, packed their things and left the library, (separately of course) and never spoke about their hour of bonding again.

[wildlyglittering]

Good at Starting Fires

I really hated the overly sexualised way that Cassian looked at Nesta in ACOSAF and ACOSF when he commented on her drastic weight loss. Instead of being concerned that she was losing weight at a drastic pace he was more 'boobs man, great they're still there' and it wound me up no end.

I was sent a prompt by an anon that said 'angsty Nessian set in the Illyrian camp where Cassian sees Nesta in her underwear for the first time' and I found that I wanted to try and right that 'wrong' in relation to the above. Probably not quite what the requestor had in mind but hey ho.

Some mention of weight loss and concerns surrounding it.

***

The rain lashed onto Cassian’s exposed skin.

The deluge hadn’t turned into a full storm quite yet but still, this was the worst weather he had seen in a long while, the wind barrelling into him warranting his full concentration in order to continue to fly upright.

Cassian would have chanced some different manoeuvres to make flight easier but he wasn’t flying alone.

The female in his arms had said nothing to him since they left the ground, perhaps planning to ignore him for the remainder of their eternal lives. Cassian would usually provoke her into retaliating against some jibe but tonight, with thick darkness surrounding them and the harsh pelt of the cold rain against their skin, goading wasn’t suitable.

Instead, Cassian flew through the onslaught, clutching onto a shivering Nesta.

They’d exited the river house in silence. Cassian thought she would fight the decision, fight Feyre, fight him, but she hadn’t. Her lips pursed together with her spine rigid and shoulders defiant; a stubborn refusal to give any indication of defeat.

Nesta hadn’t looked at any of them, or spoken either, instead turning with clenched fists to walk out the door she’d walked in from.

“Bye then,” taunted Rhys from his place by the fireplace.

A sharp rebuke came from Feyre while Cassian rubbed his hands over his face before glaring at his High Lord. His next action was to move fast to follow Nesta.

Feyre had been on his heels but if Nesta wanted nothing to do with him she wanted less to do with her sister. Cassian reached her first and Nesta stared at him with cold eyes. “We go now,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

“Nesta!” Feyre called out from behind, half running towards them.

“Now,” she demanded again her voice thick and trembling.

For a moment it seemed like Feyre was going to shift into her wings and fly after them but maybe there was something in his expression, or Nesta’s, which stopped her.

Nesta had clung to his neck the way a child clung to their mother but he got the impression she really wanted to use her hands on his throat in a different way. The rain followed them from Velaris to the mountains; Nesta spending the entire flight with her face buried into his shoulder.

Cassian would pretend along with her that it was only raindrops falling onto her cheeks.

If the betrayal had cut her, she’d resolutely decided to not let the wound show. She’d been cornered like a wild creature by one sister and the other, the one Nesta adored with the fullness of her heart, hadn’t shown to say anything at all.

When they arrived at the cabin it was Cassian’s pity for her which made him absorb the spite spilling from her lips. The force of his landing caused mud to splash up their legs and Nesta pulled away from him the second her feet hit the dirt.

Despite the rain and with dripping hair and sodden clothes she was beautiful. The words from her mouth, decidedly not so.

“Pathetic,” she hissed at him over the roar of the thundering rain and he somehow understood her meaning underneath – how Cassian was a grovelling sycophant to his High Lord who would never place a wing out of line and never fight back.

Nesta spoke with fists clenched at her sides. Cassian wondered if there was a part of her that wanted to strike him and he wondered if there was a part of him that would let her. She turned away, her back as rigid as before, every bump of bone showing through the fabric.

Cassian frowned. The dress was drenched, clinging to her flesh in a way it hadn’t when dry, illuminating what the material would otherwise hide.

He shouldn’t have been able to see the sharpness of her spine.

“Do we have a place to go or are you reducing me to sleeping in the mud?”

Those words were small, sharp cuts which stung though Nesta had no knowledge of how Cassian’s nights as a youth were spent doing just that, with the smell of putrefying leaves on his skin and clumps of dirt under his nails.

“Well?” she snapped, turning her head to glare at him from the corner of her eye. This was a glance which said he was beneath her, that she didn’t need to turn to address him, that the sight of him offended her glorious eyes.

What Cassian saw painted a different picture; tinged pink eyes, and a red nose. The skin around her eyelids swollen.

He let the stings dissipate. Nesta had been thrown from one world into another and from that one into something new. He would hold his tongue.

“This way, sweetheart.” Well, to an extent.

They trudged across the mud, Cassian’s feet sinking into the earth as he overtook Nesta to show her the way and he didn’t bother glancing behind him to see if she followed. She had no choice, there was nowhere else for her to go.

Rain had seeped into Cassian’s clothes, his skin damp and his wet hair dripped water down the back of the neck. He was feeling wet and miserable and wondered how worse this was for Nesta in her heavy woollen dress.

His siphons emitted a soft red glow and that was all there was; them, the rain and the glow in the darkness. Not even the moon greeted them.

***

The cabin was a welcome sight.

Their belongings were there, mostly Cassian’s with some provisions Feyre had arranged for Nesta. The door creaked on the hinges as Cassian stepped into familiar, if slightly musty, surroundings.

A perfume of earth and open skies lay underneath the dust and he inhaled the scent through his nose and into his lungs. He hadn’t been here in so long with wars and commitments keeping him far away; but if Velaris was his home, this place was his sanctuary.

There was a shuffling behind him and for a moment, lost in euphoria, Cassian forgot he wasn’t alone.

Nesta stood in the entrance, surveying her new domain. Her wet hair had unravelled from her coronet braid and tendrils clung onto the side of her face. A fat raindrop travelled from her temple past her cheek and hung from her jaw before finally dripping onto her collar.

Cassian frowned again.

Nesta’s dress buttons had popped open in the flight and he saw her neck and collar bone, a strange sharpness protruding from the stark white of her skin. Shadows, he told himself, from the candle that had flamed into life. They cast shapes and make everything harsh.

Nesta’s fists were now balled into her gown as a puddle grew around her. If she noticed Cassian’s gaze she never let on and continued to sweep her eyes around the room with a bored detachment.

“This is it,” she said, “my prison for the indefinite future.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “If Feyre was going to keep me caged she should have at least made a gilded one.”

Yes, he wanted to say, because your residence was so lavish.

“Move,” but Nesta didn’t wait for Cassian to step aside before pushing past him, head high and eyes forward. She stopped in the living room, her head turning left to right as she took in more of her surroundings. Her face gave nothing away as she scrutinised the spacious open living space which branched into the enclosed kitchen.

Cassian shook his head and ground his teeth as he closed the door behind her, the wind bringing sheets of rain into the cabin. A trail of water led across the floor to where Nesta stood.

The middle of the cabin was lighter, framed by the multiple fae lights and candles, and Cassian saw so much more. Nesta’s skin was white all over but her pale hands had red, cracked knuckles and dark circles like old bruises hung underneath her eyes. A shudder rippled through her.

Rain smashed against the window panes and Cassian looked to the vast inglenook fireplace which took over one full side of the cabin.

The hearth was filled with grey ash and lumps of half burnt wood and the basket aside the fireplace held strips for kindling. There were no pieces sizable enough to get a full fire going and getting a fire burning was exactly what they needed.

“Upstairs and to the left,” he said and Nesta turned to him. “That’s where your room will be. Mine’s next to it, same side. Both will warm up quick when the fire’s lit as the floorboards heat too.” Cassian jerked his head to the stairs, “Go and get changed, I’ll grab wood for the fire.”

Her face, one of permanent indifference and as smooth as porcelain, changed. The expression lasted only seconds before Nesta schooled it into something passing for neutral.

“Fine, I shouldn’t have expected you to be prepared.”

She stormed past him, leaving enough space so not a single part of them touched, not her dress brushing against his leathers – nothing.

Cassian waited until she’d gone before releasing a sigh. He hadn’t imagined what he saw; her eyes wide in alarm, flickering to the fireplace and back, a jerk of her body like someone had slapped her with the palm of their hand.

He’d best watch for that again.

***

A sandstone path ran down the left side of the cabin which wound around a small vegetable patch, a smaller pool and down into the sloped garden. At the very bottom was an alcove of trees and the shed containing Cassian’s axe, a chopping block and, if he was lucky, some pre-cut pieces.

Through the haze of rain, the distant lights of a camp flickered beyond. Cassian was fortunate to have this place for himself, not that he didn’t reside in the centre of camp on occasion to make his presence known, but this was his slice of comfort in the otherwise endless trudge.

Now, this place was also hers, for however long deemed necessary.

The rain bounced off the paving slabs as he approached his destination. The shed was old but well-kept and thankfully, stocked with thick slabs of timber.

“Thank you, old friend,” he said with a hand to one of the trees. They were fast growing and long burning, a house warming gift from Rhys half a century prior.

Cassian gathered what he needed and turned back, the cabin an angular silhouette outlined upon the backdrop of the night sky, the mountains looming some distance away. The candles and fae lights had lit the building up from within and shone through the dark at every window.

He was halfway up the path when he noticed how bright they lit Nesta’s new room.

Cassian had never been concerned with decoration, shoving a blanket onto a bed and gossamer curtains onto the window had been enough, but now he realised how thin those curtains were, how visible the room was from the outside.

Nesta wouldn’t be able to see him, not with his leathers black against the night, but he saw everything as though she stood before him in the flesh.

She’d untied the laces that bound the stays of her dress and Cassian imagined the wet thud as it fell to the floor.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wanted Nesta in front of him, unrobing for him, those long, graceful fingers sliding up her collarbone and dipping down towards the ribbons of her bodice. In his dreams he would help her, his thick fingers weaving into hers, pulling at the material until it gave way to pools of silk and satin on the ground.

Imagination gave him options.

Maybe she would have been naked, with expanses of creamy skin readily available for his viewing or maybe there would have been a delicate piece of chiffon covering her like there was now, something flimsy for him to move aside.

He would have started by kneeling. His fingertips would trace the skin of her ankles before moving upwards to her calves, her knees and to her thighs which he would have kissed until she was breathless. Finally, he would have travelled upwards with his mouth, towards the apex.

This was his fantasy. Smoothing his palms over her curves, travelling up the cord of her spine, his tongue sliding over her skin, teasing with his teeth and all the while her breath would turn into pants, his name a prayer in her mouth.

This was a dream. Nothing more.

He stood alone in the dark, pounding heartbeat thundering in his ears and pouring rain saturating his hair as he spied on a female he now never hoped to hold.

By the Mother though, her body was far from what his mind had conjured and his heartbeat turned into a pain sinking between his ribs.

He’d thought he’d seen glimpses but here was the truth.

Her collarbone jutted out severely while her breasts and curves of her buttocks shrunk as her starved body ate away at whatever flesh it found. Nesta’s ribs - Cauldron her ribs – Cassian was able to count every one, the indents of her bone visible as though her skin was the thinnest paper. When she turned, he saw the same with the column of her spine.

He swallowed the lump in his throat down, a sting in his eyes that was nothing to do with the chilled wind.

***

Inside the cabin, Cassian dried out the wood and lit the fire, the red and orange flames dancing in the hearth.

Nesta might not eat but he would try and convince her, starting with something simple and small which would fill her but not make her sick. Shoving a plate of meat in front of her face was a bad idea so he decided on a light broth consisting of flavoured water and leafy vegetables and herbs grown from his garden.

Cassian was surprised she came when he called her down but was pleased when she did. Nesta stepped along the floor with bare feet, a new gown just as thick as the last covering the bones of her body.

She stayed close to the wall when she passed through the living space, the fire cracking and snapping opposite and she eyed the flames as though they would reach across the room and snatch her.

Cassian wasn’t sure where this fear had come from, tried to dredge any memory of where they’d faced fire and came up wanting. He’d ask her – not now – but when they’d reached a point of peace.

Still, she walked toward him, her throat moving as she swallowed fast.

“I’ve made us dinner,” and he gestured to the two watery bowls in front of him. Opposite each other. Face to face. Her eyes narrowed but she sat, suspicion on her face.

“What is this slop?”

He took a deep breath. Imagined her words as darts and his skin as impenetrable armour.

“An Illyrian broth; vegetables, herbs, some spices and the thinnest slices of poultry you’ll ever find.”

“It looks revolting.”

A muscle twitched in Cassian’s jaw. The dish was plain, colourless and watery but was filled with flavour and had what Nesta needed nutritionally.

He would refrain from telling her this was the staple of Illyrian’s recovering from sickness or injury, that he’d spooned this liquid into the dribbling mouths of multitudes of his brethren over the years and how he wasn’t above doing the same to her.

“Try it,” was all he said. “You might like it.”

“Doubtful.”

But she picked up the spoon, a tremor in her hand. Fear, withdrawal, or exhaustion he didn’t know. Maybe all three. Maybe rage.

Nesta bent her head forward, bringing the spoon to her lips and as she did, her dress, far too large for her frame gaped at the collar once again showing Cassian the sharpness of the bone under her skin.

Something sat heavy in his stomach, something like guilt and shame. He’d once thought of her as sharp tongued and soft curves, his mouth watering at the promise of the swell of her breasts and the shape of her backside.

His thoughts had been occupied with images of grabbing her with his hands, fingers digging into the folds of her flesh while they pounded the force of their desires onto each other. Nesta was no less beautiful now but when he thought of her body, thought of what he knew, he considered differently as to what his body would do with hers.

His fingers would likely bruise her, leaving crescent moons into her skin and the bones of her spine would be obvious to his gaze. Now, he wanted to use his build to hover over her, to envelop her with his wings and cradle the back of her skull with the palm of one hand and cup her cheek with the other.

Cassian needed to make this situation right but he didn’t know where to start other than this meagre offering of broth.

Nesta ate two spoons, possibly three, but at least she ate, her eyes fluttering closed as she savoured her meal, the shadows of her eyelashes playing on her cheekbones. He smiled at her enjoyment, however brief, feeling his heart soar.

Nesta opened her eyes and looked straight at him. Cassian dropped his smile and her eyes narrowed.

I’m happy you like the broth, he wanted to say, however little you take. I’m happy you tried. I think you’re dying. I don’t want you to die. I want you to want to live.

A log fell in the hearth and banged against the grate, popping into the air and Nesta flinched, her eyes snapping towards the sound.

The flames seemed to hypnotise her as they whirled among the wood, consuming what they needed in order to grow. Wherever she was in that moment she wasn’t in the room with him.  

The moment passed and Nesta snapped her head back to Cassian, slamming the spoon into the bowl.

“I’m not here for your entertainment.”

“I know that.”

“Then stop staring at me like I’m a festival showpiece.”

Cassian frowned, “I wasn’t staring.”

“Tell your gawping eyes that.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched again. He was exhausted, not only from the long day but from arguing with Rhys about the plan, and from convincing Feyre that he and Nesta would be fine. His blood, already on the rise, had gained extra heat when Amren made her parting comment to him and all this was before he began flying.

“I wasn’t staring,” he repeated, “believe me when I say there’s nothing worth looking at.”

His temper was still hot, irritation singing a song in his veins and this was default for him, the well-travelled road to flinging insults.

It was a road Nesta travelled herself.

“Well, believe me when I say that even if I’m nothing I’m still worth twice of you, bastard.”

“You’ve been exiled to the camps so that’s not what your sister thinks. Either of them.” He gestured around with his hand, “Do you see Elain begging to be let in the door?”

Nesta’s nostrils flared, her hands now clenched into two fists, those red cracked knuckles on display.

“Well, this shows what your ‘friends’ think of you, if I’m worth little to nothing in their eyes and they have you taking care of me?”

“You should be thankful, sweetheart. No one else volunteered to listen to your temper tantrums.”

“Let me ease your burden then.” She stood, jolting the table and the bowl moved, spilling liquid over the side. “I would hate to bore you with one of my childish tantrums.”

“By all means, take yourself off to bed. You’re obviously in need of a nap.”

Nesta bared her teeth at him and Cassian schooled his face into one of boredom. She turned, her gown brushing against the furniture and as she passed through the living room, she grabbed a thick blanket draped across one of the chairs.

There was a change to her face as she went, fleeting but not fleeting enough for his sharp eyes. Regret? Yes. What she regretted he didn’t know but the snarl had also turned into a smirk, a twist of her mouth which screamed, I am victorious.

What had she won? The prize was a night alone in an unlit room with a blanket and empty belly.

As she left, the bored expression slid from Cassian’s face to be replaced by a furrowed brow.

Nesta was playing a game, one which required her to start fights so she could flaunt from the room as though leaving were her choice. He’d seen her grip, the furrow of her own forehead and the stark whites of her eyes.

She didn’t like the fire and she didn’t want to eat - or she couldn’t eat.

All Nesta’s choices had been stripped away from her in one afternoon and her decision to exit swiftly and in outrage was all she had.

He let her. He goaded her, stoking the small flame she held burning until she felt something, even if that emotion was irritation and anger - anything as long as it wasn’t cloying fear. If Cassian told her to leave then she would have stayed in her misery to spite him.

Cassian lifted a clay pot lid, surreptitiously positioned beside him on a chair, to cover her bowl. He would leave the dish outside her door with a slab of buttered bread. Maybe she would eat if it wasn’t in front of his watchful eyes.

He would eat his own in his room, the space of the kitchen and the living area seeming too big now, too empty without Nesta’s presence.

As he passed by the hearth, he lowered the flames with his siphons, letting them burn down. As he did, he thought of another fireplace, in another home, in a time which seemed forever ago.

He would help her even if she hated him for it. Cassian would prefer her vitriol to the nothingness living inside her where even her scent had turned glacial; ice cold to the bone.

So yes, Cassian would let the embers burn low for now but he was a creature of air and flame. He was good at starting fires.

TAGGING:

@nehemikkele

 You are the only person who has ever requested a tag from me so thank you so much! :)

[perseabethj]

i don't really have an explanation (i.)

When Percy started his senior year in yet another school, he promised himself he would try his best to make sure nothing strange happened; sure, it wasn’t really up to him monster-wise, but he could at least try not to say anything strange to his new classmates or curse in ancient Greek. Besides, the last two years had been a mess and, with his kidnapping, it was not like he had much to say when he was told to introduce himself the first day of class -‘’hey, my name is Percy Jackson, my dad is a Greek god, and I was kidnapped last year and my memories were erased; oh, and I like blue food!’’. Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.

Thus, Percy was known as the quiet and reserved kid in his school. This was a first for him; sure, he’d never had many friends, but he was always causing trouble. This time, however, he knew that Annabeth would kill him if, for any reason, he messed this school year up and he couldn’t go to New Rome University. He made friends -a first, excluding Grover and Tyson, who didn’t really count if you kept in mind that, well, they were his protector and his brother, and a satyr and a cyclops. He didn’t tell his friends much about him -his step-dad was an English teacher, he had been expelled from way too many schools, he had ADHD and dyslexia, he was very athletic, and he was going to try and join the swim team. He made sure to exclude everything that could be linked to his other life -he didn’t talk about his summer camp, his other friends, his huge dog, his father, or his girlfriend; Percy liked how both things didn’t go together, and he felt like it made everything easier. Whenever he talked, he sounded like a normal seventeen-year-old, and he was glad about that. He had had enough of monsters for a lifetime and, even if a hydra or a hellhound bothered him every other day, he could truly say that he could see a future for him and Annabeth that didn’t include them dying in the next five months. All in all, things were good.

When his school organized a homecoming football game, however, he did invite Annabeth; she was in a boarding school in the city, but it wasn’t that hard for her to sneak out with her New York Yankees cap, and he did want her there; it was a milestone for them. After all, Percy wasn’t supposed to reach senior year. They had agreed on meeting at the school; Percy had told Annabeth he’d meet her at the entrance once she texted him that she was close, since he was already at the bleachers with his friends. He wasn’t used to having a phone yet, however, which, in his opinion, gave him an excuse as to why he wasn’t checking his texts. Moreover, his ADHD tended to slow time down for him, so he was pretty sure that he still had thirty minutes before Annabeth was supposed to arrive.

‘’I swear, man, she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,’’ his friend Matthew said, leaning over Kayla so he could see him.

‘’You say that about every girl you meet.’’

‘’I don’t say that about you,’’ Matthew told Kayla, who elbowed him in the ribs and, promptly, shut him up.

Percy couldn’t help but laugh at Louis’s mocking expressions behind Matthew. He’d only known these people for less than a month, but they had accepted him into their little club as soon as they’d met him and he was infinitely grateful. As Louis opened his mouth to, probably, laugh at Matthew over his ability to fall in love at first sight everyday, Matthew and Kayla stopped laughing when they looked at Percy. Percy tensed up, his hand moving to his pocket to make sure that Riptide was with him in case he needed to kill a monster, but, when a pair of arms linked themselves around his shoulders from behind, he tensed up for a whole different reason.

‘’I didn’t think I’d see you here, Jackson,’’ a female voice said playfully close to his ear.

Percy disentangled himself from her arms and turned around to stare Mary in the eye.

‘’An athlete at a football game. Who would have though, right?’’ he ironically said.

Mary rolled her eyes and rested her hand on his shoulder. Percy had to resist the urge to slap it away, but he didn’t want to cause a scene -he knew a lot about causing scenes and, with his luck, slapping her hand away would lead to a monster trying to kill him, and he didn’t want to be expelled before he could even take his first test. He didn’t know what he’d done to gain her attention -she was popular and decidedly pretty, and he was an outcast. He knew he wasn’t bad-looking -if Piper described him as a Greek god once more, he might die; Annabeth telling him that he looked exactly like his father also didn’t help, since the two times Poseidon had shown up in the past year while he was with Annabeth had always led to Percy wondering whether his girlfriend found his father attractive-, and he spent so much time swimming that one would have to be blind not to notice that he had a nice body. However, the whole school knew about his experience with being kicked out of school, since some teachers had made sure to remind him to behave during the first week of classes, and the swim team wasn’t regarded as highly as the football or the hockey team. All in all, he wasn’t a mess -unlike thirteen-year-old Percy-, but he was guarded and serious enough not to attract the attention of preppy girls. Mary, however, seemed to be obsessed with him from the day he got her phone out of the swimming pool after she dropped it while flirting with another guy in his team -‘’keep it wet, keep it wet’’, he’d had to remind himself-, and he regretted being a nice guy ever since then. Honestly, if his mom hadn’t raised him to be such a good kid, most of the problems in his life wouldn’t have happened.

‘’You could sit with us if you wanted,’’ Mary told him, signaling to her girl friends.

Percy knew the invitation only extended to him and not to his friends, who were quiet during the conversation. They had been at that school for three years, so they knew Mary and her gang, and Percy knew they sometimes wondered why he didn’t drop them for the popular kids. He also knew that he would rather face the Minotaur again than sit with the popular kids.

‘’I’m quite happy where I am, thanks,’’ he politely answered, trying to end the chat before he said anything rude.

‘’But you would have more fun with us, I’m sure,’’ Mary insisted, running her finger down his arm.

In moments like this, he almost missed being the young kid he was when he first arrived to camp, skinny and short and with a voice way too high for anyone to consider him a man.

‘’No, thanks,’’ he said again, using his other arm to take his phone out of his pocket, hoping Annabeth wouldn’t take much longer. ‘’Besides, I’m waiting-‘’

‘’Perseus Jackson!’’

‘’Man, I am going to need a massage after this’’, he though as he tensed again. He noticed his friends drive their attention away from Mary, who had also looked towards the origin of the voice with furrowed brows, her finger still on Percy’s arm. Before turning around, Percy quickly looked at the time on his phone, silently cursing in Greek as he saw the multiple texts and missed calls that he clearly hadn’t heard.

‘’Why is there a beautiful blonde goddess walking towards Percy, yelling his full name and looking like she wants to kill him?’’ Matthew quietly asked, forcing Percy to stifle a laugh.

He turned around slowly, half-expecting her to have a dagger at his neck. She was still far enough for him to be able to think of a few excuses, but he knew that wouldn’t work. Man, he had been offended the first time she’d called him Seaweed Brain, but she’d really hit the nail on the head.

‘’I can explain,’’ he said while she was still a few metres away.

‘’Explain, then,’’ she told him, now standing in full height before him. He was quite taller than her, but a standing Annabeth with folded arms and a stormy look in her eyes before a sitting Percy who knew he’d messed up was definitely scary.

‘’I…’’ he started. ‘’I didn’t think I’d get this far, honestly. I think this might be the first time you let me explain and I’m not ready for this responsibility.’’

He knew that was the right answer -her eyes were now shining with mirth and he could tell he was holding back a smile. She still had her arms crossed, but he figured she wasn’t going to kill him in front of so many people, so he tugged at them and forced her to sit next to him before he could regret it.

‘’I really thought it was earlier. You know how I am with the time, and I’m still not used to the phone.’’

She finally unfolded her arms and shook her head as she smiled softly, and Percy knew she wasn’t mad any longer.

‘’The fact that I have experience navigating labyrinths doesn’t mean that I want to navigate your high school, Seaweed Brain,’’ she told him.

‘’Completely understandable, Wise Girl.’’

He threw his arm around her shoulder, all his previous conversations forgotten, and he was about to ask her about her day when another voice interrupted him.

‘’Excuse me, Percy, but who is this?’’ Mary asked from behind him.

Annabeth turned around, a fake smile on her lips as she took in the brunette girl sitting behind her.

‘’His girlfriend,’’ Annabeth said. ‘’Nice to meet you.’’

She offered Mary her hand, though still wrapped around Percy’s arm, and Mary took it automatically, a shocked expression on her face. Her friends looked back between her and Annabeth, equally confused.

‘’His girlfriend?’’ Matthew whisper-yelled.

Both Louis and Kayla nudged him with their elbows, earning a laugh from Percy, which made Annabeth look at them with a raised eyebrow.

‘’Guys, this is Annabeth, my girlfriend,’’ Percy introduced. ‘’Beth, these are Kayla, Matthew and Louis.’’

‘’You’ve mentioned them,’’ Annabeth said, extending her hand and offering a real smile. ‘’It’s nice to meet you. Anybody who manages to put up with Percy deserves to be admired.’’

‘’Hey!’’ Percy whined.

His friends sat there, flabbergasted, but he didn’t really mind. Sure, he could have told them in advance, but he also didn’t think it was that important that he had a girlfriend; he was not the first guy in school to have one, and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t have time to talk any more before the game started, but he did manage to hear Matthew whispering to Kayla and Louis as the players made it to the field.

‘’So not only is Percy the hottest guy at school, but he’s also dating the hottest girl in New York? How is that fair?’’

Percy smiled softly and pressed Annabeth closer to him, enjoying her warmth and having her next to him. This was how things were supposed to be.

[kiivg]

.I decided to just go with my three heroes instead of like all my dragon age romances because I’ve got someone for Blackwall, Gaspard, and I’ve got a mind for someone with Dorian too. Then I’ve got a whole load of OC x OC as well, and trying to draw all of them would be time consuming. However! During drawing this, I realised that, technically, Andrastopher, Anders, Marcus, and Zevran, have all slept with one another. Whether that’s between two people or more just depends on when in the timeline haha…. ,’:)c.

.Anyway there’s some things about my Heroes and their love interests below :), thank you for asking! I’m always excited to talk about my OCs.

...

.Andrastopher and Zevran’s relationship starts out as quite a basic thing. Something that’s not talked about in camp or on any of their journeys, but everyone knows it’s happening. On Andrastopher’s side, it’s something to make him forget for a little while, something to take his mind of everything that’s happening to him. Zevran, after all, offers this to him as more of an incentive to keep him alive knowing that Andrastopher most likely will end up killing him. Something that Andrastopher wasn’t exactly quiet about, he did actually plan on presenting Zevran’s head to Arl Howe at some point.

.Of course, everything changes with the course of time. Fighting beside one another in such dangerous situations, it was bound to leave them closer than before. They save each other’s lives, they tend one another’s wounds, and one night, Andrastopher doesn’t slink back to his own tent with a satisfied hum in his belly and stays curled around the other man. There’s a tenderness that blooms between them both, and what was not talked about before, is shown more and more openly.

.Zevran, I think, falls in love with Andrastopher before Andrastopher falls in love with him. He’s too broken to glue himself back together long enough to even think about such a thing. It probably doesn’t help that Zevran had started off by complimenting him on his looks above anything else, and Andrastopher knows he’s a weird looking man; more of a curiosity than a crush to anyone who looks at him. Anything Zevran had said after that was taken with the knowledge that the man would be lying.

.By the end of the blight, something that Andrastopher had hoped to die in, he’d found a reason to live again. Completing Morrigan’s ritual was a risk to take, but one he did so willingly so he could waken next to Zevran another day. However odd their beginnings were, neither man was willing to see the other one gone.

.After the blight, Andrastopher struggles with everything he knows. There’s no place for him in the world, and he cannot hide in Zevran’s arms as if there is nothing wrong. He takes a year to himself, sacrificing himself to the Qun, accepting that he needed a restriction in being who he was meant to be. It was a hard time apart, but the reunion was a sweet one. Though time and work takes them apart for perhaps months at a time, they remain loyal to one another. They marry at some point, a small thing which really only included the pair themselves, a chantry Mother, and Oghren who was both amused and embarrassed about it all.

.To this day they remain together, and regrets have been spoken about how they had initially started out. Andrastopher knows he should have treated Zevran better, something the man has forgiven him for over and over throughout their years. 

...

.Marcus and Anders’ relationship was in-game the rivalmance because it’s so much more delicious than the basic romance. But, in my mind, it’s different.

.They start off butting heads in Kirkwall, Marcus needs Anders’ help, and Anders’ needs Marcus’ help. The idea of anything between them isn’t really on the table at the time since Marcus has been spending his time between Meeran’s legs more often than not. They both find each other insufferable for a variety of reasons; Marcus is egotistic, narcissistic,  overtly cocky, and spends most of his time either fighting or fucking or playing that ridiculous lute he won in the Hanged Man. Whilst Marcus thinks Anders’ fight has been blown to unrealistic proportions, and he’s championing something that can be overcome easily enough, the man has a hero complex that grates on his nerves. Marcus is a Fereldan apostate who lives freely, and he can’t understand why people don’t just escape from the circle; his father did easily enough.

.After the Deep Roads expedition, coming home after eating nothing but mushrooms and drinking rock water for weeks, just to return to Carver’s newfound templar job really makes him rethink his attitude in Kirkwall. Marcus becomes openly supportive of the Templars, he has no choice; Carver’s relation to a mage has him under valiant watch, and though money helps, Marcus has to be on his best behaviour. Being seen with Anders can only damage his reputation, but they had kissed in that foggy desperation in the Deep Roads, not that they’d spoken of it, but it remains a memory that tasted sweet despite their breath.

.Marcus spends most of his time in the Blooming Rose in the next few years, wealth and desire letting him flaunt his time in rented beds. Anders yet plays on his mind, pulling him back time after time whenever he hears the man needs his help. They fight and disagree, snapping with magic curling in their fingertips. Anders feels like Marcus is betraying the very core of himself; denying that he’s a mage in every positive song he sings of the Templars. He hates the man with an intensity that boils over in the need to return to that time in the Deep Roads; when mages and templars didn’t matter, and the once fat Fereldan apostate gave away his shares of tasteless fungi to the mage who knew how to heal wounds. They fight and kiss, biting at each other with teeth and nails, and it is Marcus who storms away; burning with confusion and singed footsteps, and awaiting a visitor at the end of the night.

.When things get particularly bad, Marcus gives in to Anders’ way of thinking, apologising for what they had been through over the years. He gives him a key to the Hawke estate. It’s a safe place to hide, a safe place to smuggle mages in and out. He warns him on Carver’s inclusion, Marcus can’t be seen helping; it would only come back upon his brother and he’s not willing to risk such a thing.

.Anders stops by the estate more and more, and the animosity between them settles into something of a comfort. The man is there when Leandra is killed, he is there to stop him from killing Merrill just a few nights after, he is there to drag him home from the Blooming Rose when he drinks too much to remember where he lives. Marcus knows he doesn’t deserve any of it, and he is selfish when he kisses Anders for the first time in years, selfish when he tries to drag him into bed, selfish when he asks him to stay the night. Marcus’ rise to Viscount is the only thing that keeps Anders safe, and is the only reason that Anders is able to be smuggled from Kirkwall after the explosion.

.It’s a year and a half before they see each other again. Justice has been calmed over the months, and Marcus’ attempts at keeping Kirkwall sane had slowly been overthrown by a group of zealots. A mage couldn’t hold position for any longer, and he had no choice but to flee. He’d spent six months building a home for himself in the ruins of Lothering, and he welcomes Anders with laughter and disbelief when he sees the man again. Years had passed since they had first met in Darktown, but seeing Marcus with a small herd and a weight settling in his gut, it’s the most real he’s ever been.

.They settle together, never intending for it to be permanent. But there is a loneliness that could only be combatted together, and when mages begin to find them it’s hard not to fall in love with one another when they work to rebuild what was once lost. A small village sprouts around them, mages seeking safety and succour found under the guidance of a heavy stranger named Conchobhar, and that taller fellow named Jarl.

...

.Goddard and Yetta’s relationship isn’t actually an in-game thing, since he’s seventy-one at the beginning of Inquisition, and like what options do I ever have apart from making him a sugar daddy (I missed a thing there for sure AH), so I gave him a wife called Yetta.

.Essentially, it’s an arranged marriage for them. Which begins terribly, because neither want to marry the other; Goddard is still holding out hope that he will find his first love again, and Yetta was betrothed to him since she was a child so she’s never had a choice. Their wedding is awkward, Goddard tries to convince his little brother, Milward, to take his place, and Yetta is caught trying to escape from the actual event. Goddard also turns up in Orlesian finery in an attempt to insult Yetta’s family and to remind them that he spent a good few years in bed with a chevalier. It works, but, the wedding still goes ahead, and they’re both miserably married by the end of the day.

.Despite his tactics, Goddard promises Yetta that he’d stay truthful to her regardless of whether or not they end up in bed together. And, in the beginning, neither of them wanted to. Goddard spends his nights sleeping on the floor, and there’s a more than obvious rumour floating around that they haven’t yet slept together. Despite all the pushes and shoves they receive; Goddard being pushed into Yetta’s room as she dresses for the day, Yetta being forced into the bathing chambers whilst Goddard is alone in there, conversations of sex being brought up at their meal times, and even being locked in their bedchamber for so long that Goddard ends up bum rushing the guards who bring them food at meal time.

.It’s not the best beginning, but there is a camaraderie that begins between them in their joint frustrations. Their attraction to one another begins in the written letters they send over the years. With Goddard working in Ferelden, and Yetta remaining in Ostwick, it’s the only way of communicating they have. And though it takes years, it’s hard to deny the way that their feelings grow each time Goddard gets some weeks away from the military.

.Together they have three children over the years, agreeing to stop trying after that due to Wakefield’s complicated birth. They remain happy together until this day, accepting a few blips over the years, and the rather gargantuan blunder of Goddard having an affair whilst incapacitated and presumed dead in Ferelden. Everything that is thrown at them is tackled head on and together, and it is obvious in almost everything that the do together, that their love grows ever stronger every minute they spent beside one another.

.TL:DR: all my heroes are happy and loved and alive :)c.

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 12: TWO SNAKES SAVE MY LIFE

Annabeth was fiddling with the ends of the pages, letting them run through her fingers as she nervously stared at the title. Great, just what she wanted, more of her screw-ups on display, now from Luke's father himself. Gods knew what else about her past mistakes had been shown in Percy's life she hadn't gotten to yet. This was going to go so well!

"So," Alex broke the awkward tension in the room. "We're not even close to being half done with this one, and Percy's already invincible. I say we start placing bets now on how many more times he should have died."

"At least three more, minimum," Jason grinned.

"We have three, do I hear four, where's four?" Alex grinned in delight, still pointing at Jason and doing a fair impression of an auctioneer.

Annabeth sighed, very loudly, and started reading. Knowing Percy hadn't died was only, like, her fifth worst thing about dealing with this considering it made a living ball of anxiety in her snap taught every time it had almost happened.

It didn't help her problem Alex immediately started snickering again at the chapter title. "George and Martha make an epic return apparently."

"I bet Percy doesn't even offer George a rat, again. You're so ungrateful," Thalia mock wagged her finger around.

"I'll make sure I have plenty for you Thals," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Unless it's two other random snakes who just happen to be in the right place at the right time. I think a rat snake would come in handy," Magnus said with the hope the traitor would be revealed already before any more damage was done.

"We haven't even started yet and I'm already one-third of the way on my bet," Jason nodded at Percy, clearly impressed.

"And you're probably lowballing it for the gag," Percy rolled his eyes.

I love New York.

"Wow Percy, I never would have guessed," Thalia gasped, planting her hand against her forehead and falling back in her seat.

"It's not like it crosses your mind every other thought we hear or something," Jason smirked.

"You can both kiss my big apple," Percy rolled his eyes.

You can pop out of the Underworld in Central Park, hail a taxi, head down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping along behind you, and nobody even looks at you funny.

"I swear your brain is made of Mist," Alex snorted. "That would happen anywhere, they don't see her!"

"I don't mind him like this," Magnus chuckled, "I feel like it'll be really easy to tell if he's ever body swapped someday if he doesn't mention New York and forgets how the Mist works."

"Is that something you're concerned with happening a lot Magnus?" Annabeth asked with interest.

"More than you guys give credit for," he said seriously. He wouldn't put anything past these gods.

Of course, the Mist helped.

Percy stuck his tongue out at these guys, but none of their smiles faded much. He still seemed like a goofball for being surprised by it years later.

People probably couldn't see Mrs. O'Leary, or maybe they thought she was a large, loud, very friendly truck.

"The only garbage truck I'd ever want on my block," Will grinned.

I took the risk of using my mom's cell phone to call Annabeth for the second time.

"You used a cell phone while exiting the Underworld?" Annabeth looked ready to cry at him. It really somehow felt worse hearing he put no thought into tempting the world with his insanity.

The others were more confused why she was surprised at this point anybody else would be his call.

"And you didn't pick up," Percy told her with a tragic expression. "What were you doing that was so important? Prepping another war council or something?"

"It was on the charger," she scowled rather than admit she hadn't checked it for nearly an hour because she'd been running all over camp trying to figure out where he'd vanished to when she'd come knocking on his door for exactly this reason and he hadn't been there!

The amount of minutes she'd spent at camp wondering where he was had probably worn out the string on her life by decades.

I'd called her once from the tunnel but only reached her voice mail. I'd gotten surprisingly good reception, seeing as I was at the mythological center of the world and all, but I didn't want to see what my mom's roaming charges were going to be.

"With any luck and hoping you'd call, she probably has unlimited data?" Magnus said with only some idea what he was talking about, homeless shelters occasionally handing out phones. He usually just traded his away for food, but he might keep the next one if Annabeth asked if he had a number.

"Either way, she won't care when she finds out why you were calling from the center of the Earth," Will agreed.

This time, Annabeth picked up.

She'd only just heard his first message when he did call the second time, and there had been a horrible split second where her mind swiveled to it being Sally and having to explain she didn't know where Percy was before she snapped open the phone fast enough to break it in relief. She patted her empty pocket miserably now.

The only thing getting her through the past week was her daily phone call with Percy's mom, neither of them having an update, but the same hopeless hope in both their voices promising the other he was still alive somewhere out there. Now Annabeth couldn't pick up her phone still resting on the charger again to promise her it was true.

"Hey," I said. "You get my message?"

"Percy, where have you been? Your message said almost nothing! We've been worried sick!"

Annabeth read that with a little to much oomph in her voice. Like she wasn't just reading that, or saying it from memory. A large part of her still felt that, and Percy leaned forward automatically. He wanted to put his hand on hers like she had for him, hold her close.

She was radiating unapproachable. He'd pissed her off one to many times in his recent memories and now with Luke's dad on the horizon she clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

He sighed and slouched in his beanbag all the same, shifting his weight to be as close to her as he could without being 'in her space.'

It seemed to do the trick. Her voice relaxed a notch as she kept going.

"I'll fill you in later," I said, though how I was going to do that I had no idea.

"Hopefully you start with the part where you ran into Nico and then go in chronological order?" Magnus frowned in confusion.

"I get the feeling if Percy tried to give Percy back his own memories it wouldn't be half as coherent as these are," Alex snickered.

Percy couldn't even deny it.

"Where are you?"

"We're on our way like you asked, almost to the Queens—Midtown Tunnel. But, Percy, what are you planning? We've left the camp virtually undefended, and there's no way the gods—"

Jason's head hurt. The kind of splitting, aching feeling that made him wonder if he'd crash landed without a helmet recently.

His vision kept wanting to double up, overlay proper war efforts, a whole group of people dividing duties. A girl with dark hair and a purple cloak at his side- his vision was blurring with tears and pain he quickly swiped away. They'd seen. He knew for a fact his ragged breath hadn't gone unnoticed.

Thalia was studying him with heartbreak in her eyes. It had never occurred to her to ask what the Roman kids had been up to all this time. Their camp was right under the base of Mount Tam. Did their Greek Titans attack them? Or would they have been safe in some cosmic ignorance?

Judging by the fact that he was here, that Oceanus could even pull him in here, Thalia suspected otherwise. She was sort of hoping, and just as afraid to hear of what he'd been up to during this time.

Both of them stared longingly at the other pile of books, a deep feeling of want to know how the parallel battle had gone.

Patience. Jason grit his teeth and pushed his problems aside, a feeling he managed with clear cut precision that should have worried him some other time. Percy was nearly caught up, no way would he interrupt with his little problem.

"Trust me," I said. "I'll see you there."

I hung up.

Annabeth could practically still hear Malcoml asking her if he'd told what the plan was and she'd had no good answer for him. He was so frustrating she'd nearly thrown her phone out the window.

My hands were trembling. I wasn't sure if it was a leftover reaction from my dip in the Styx, or anticipation of what I was about to do. If this didn't work, being invulnerable wasn't going to save me from getting blasted to bits.

"Percy, what do you do?" Jason tried to ask while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sounds like an average Wednesday for him to be honest, don't know what's got your panties in a twist," Alex snorted.

It was late afternoon when the taxi dropped me at the Empire State Building. Mrs. O'Leary bounded up and down Fifth Avenue, licking cabs and sniffing hot dog carts. Nobody seemed to notice her, although people did swerve away and look confused when she came close.

I whistled for her to heel as three white vans pulled up to the curb. They said Delphi Strawberry Service, which was the cover name for Camp Half-Blood. I'd never seen all three vans in the same place at once, though I knew they shuttled our fresh produce into the city.

The first van was driven by Argus, our many-eyed security chief.

"I'm curious if you've just stopped bothering to try and count his eyes or you finally believed your brain when they said they move and regrow," Thalia grinned.

"Little of both," Percy admitted, squinting suspiciously at nothing in here as his mind was still convinced a new eye had either grown between his nose and lips, or it had moved from his cheek.

The other two were driven by harpies, who are basically demonic human/chicken hybrids with bad attitudes. We used the harpies mostly for cleaning the camp, but they did pretty well in midtown traffic too.

"I will not be able to unsee every New York driver as a human/chicken hybrid now," Magnus sighed. "How did you even get those guys there?"

"Just like every other monster, they showed up, but we manage a symbiotic relationship," Annabeth shrugged. "We get lucky all they want is the trash scraps. Chiron said the Criocentaur that he paid before kept stealing all the kid's clothes and it just wasn't working out."

Magnus felt like his brain was rebooting with an outdated modem as he debated whether to ask what the heck that was before Annabeth took the option away and kept reading.

The doors slid open. A bunch of campers climbed out, some of them looking a little green from the long drive.

Will chuckled, he'd almost felt nostalgic being back on a bus. Katie had gotten a sing-a-long going, it had sent him back to some of the best times being in that old van with his mom as he passed out cold water and advised some of those more woozy it helped to focus on a singular spot inside.

I was glad so many had come: Pollux, Silena Beauregard, the Stoll brothers, Michael Yew, Jake Mason, Katie Gardner, and Annabeth, along with most of their siblings. Chiron came out of the van last. His horse half was compacted into his magic wheelchair, so he used the handicap lift. The Ares cabin wasn't here, but I tried not to get too angry about that. Clarisse was a stubborn idiot. End of story.

Hopefully not the very end, Jason tried not to shiver as Annabeth's words sat haunted in him. For all Percy knew, this was going to be the main battle and Kronos would still send forces to destroy the camp while they were all there, and they'd come back to see their home salvageable, with the Ares cabin obliterated.

I did a head count: forty campers in all.

That number didn't sit any better in Jason's mind. He'd always known in theory there was something fundamentally different about this place he'd never understand, never be able to comparatively wrap his brain around. Forty? Only forty warriors in total? That wasn't even a portion of- his brain slammed a metal gate shut on wherever that thought was leading, leaving him unsettled more with every word that progressed.

Not many to fight a war, but it was still the largest group of half-bloods I'd ever seen gathered in one place outside camp. Everyone looked nervous, and I understood why. We were probably sending out so much demigod aura that every monster in the northeastern United States knew we were here.

"Yeah, but, they were already on their way for this big showdown," Alex said unperturbed. Magnus genuinely wondered what it would take to make him perturbed.

As I looked at their faces—all these campers I'd known for so many summers—a nagging voice whispered in my mind: One of them is a spy.

Percy bit back a groan of pain. His brain was a tilt-o-whirl of all their faces flashing through his mind making him more sick than any New York driver could manage. The worst part was, he didn't even want to know the answer.

But I couldn't dwell on that. They were my friends. I needed them.

Then I remembered Kronos's evil smile. You can't count on friends. They will always let you down.

Annabeth came up to me.

Percy chuckled deep in his chest, that she always managed the best timing, that she seemed like an exception to every bad thing in his life. His eyes flickered to Will, who still had his arm casually around Nico. Less like he was holding him in place these days and much more like they were just chilling. His guilty thoughts then flickered to Annabeth and his traitorous arm and how that probably wouldn't feel like just a casual thing.

She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.

"I have faith she can do both at the same time," Alex nodded with confidence.

"Only after I'm interrupted the third time," she said with a wicked grin of a little to much seriousness.

She frowned. "What is it?"

"What's what?" I asked.

"You're looking at me funny."

"Hate to break it to you cuz," Magnus grinned, "but that's how he's always looked at you from day one." One of the first expressions he'd come to recognize on a stranger's face was Percy just kind of staring into space when Annabeth entered his mind.

Annabeth blushed and cleared her throat hard before continuing.

I realized I was thinking about my strange vision of Annabeth pulling me out of the Styx River. "It's, uh, nothing." I turned to the rest of the group.

Annabeth resisted the urge to smack him with the book. He called her being his lifeline nothing?! Gods, if he had told her that she would have melted to a puddle and needed to borrow crutches for the rest of this fight!

Okay, so maybe it was a good thing he hadn't told her, but she still wanted to smack him anyways.

"Thanks for coming, everybody. Chiron, after you."

My old mentor shook his head.

There was a dull sense of sadness in Percy as he realized none of them were going to laugh at his use of the word old there like they had in the past. The truth was, Chiron was his only mentor, and his age was as legendary as some of the heroes he'd taught. It made the impact of this moment feel greater when his friends really couldn't crack a remark at him.

"I came to wish you luck, my boy. But I make it a point never to visit Olympus unless I am summoned."

"Is there a story there, or?" Magnus asked with the kind of familiar dread of not being sure if he wanted an answer.

"No, he's just very respectful like that," Thalia sounded as baffled as Magnus so often did though at clearly not understanding this concept one bit.

"But you're our leader."

He smiled. "I am your trainer, your teacher. That is not the same as being your leader. I will go gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help. Meanwhile, you called the campers here, Percy. You are the leader."

I wanted to protest, but everybody was looking at me expectantly, even Annabeth.

"Are these guys nuts?" Percy asked far to late after already being inducted.

"No," Annabeth said simply with a smile.

Percy looked from her to the book and back several times dubiously. Chiron, Annabeth, Beckendorf, heck Thalia had more a claim to a leaderly role than he'd ever thought of.

Again he waited for someone to laugh, Alex or Thalia being a top contender for never failing to make sure he had humble pie shoved in his face when he needed it.

Neither of them made a peep.

All he'd been in here, heck, all he'd been his entire life was a destructive, impulsive, decent fighter. He'd never asked for people to put their lives in his hands.

He took a breath and told himself this was his Iliad. He hadn't asked for this by having Posideon for his dad, but it was as much a part of his path as bestowing the prophecy upon himself as well as this curse.

I took a deep breath. "Okay, like I told Annabeth on the phone, something bad is going to happen by tonight. Some kind of trap. We've got to get an audience with Zeus and convince him to defend the city. Remember, we can't take no for an answer."

Magnus tried hard not to wince at the idea Zeus was just going to blink and blast them all to bits for Percy's latest impertinence now rubbing off on the rest of the kids at Camp. The lightning god didn't seem like the kind who would take being told what to do lightly.

I asked Argus to watch Mrs. O'Leary, which neither of them looked happy about.

"I can't imagine why, we already know from Peleus he hands out the good treats," Percy said with regret.

"She just didn't want to leave you Percy, she's been enjoying your bonding," Alex said like the expert on dogs she clearly proclaimed herself to be.

Chiron shook my hand. "You'll do well, Percy. Just remember your strengths and beware your weaknesses."

It sounded eerily close to what Achilles had told me. Then I remembered Chiron had taught Achilles.

"Did I read a myth once right, that Hercules accidentally killed Chiron?"* Jason asked as he rubbed the side of his head. What a horrible time for that odd memory to resurface, but he had a feeling it tied into all this somehow.

"Almost, but Zeus told him how to heal the wound," Annabeth nodded with a sad smile. "It's how the idea of Camp actually came about, he needed a safe place to rest from his injury and Heracles helped find the place that felt sacred and safe enough."

"Cool," Percy and Jason chorused in surprise.

That didn't exactly reassure me, but I nodded and tried to give him a confident smile.

"Let's go," I told the campers.

A security guard was sitting behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a flower on the cover.

Magnus and Alex once again exchanged grins over a random book appearing that went way beyond and over anyone else's head. Magnus flashed up a sign and then finger-spelled something. Alex nodded slowly in understanding as he got the interpretation.

"You know sign language?" Annabeth said in understanding without taking in a word.

"Um, slightly," he blushed and dropped his hands like he'd been caught, though he looked a little proud too his cousin had sounded impressed. "Hearth's deaf, he's been teaching me."

"I've been wanting to learn another language recently that isn't hard-wired in," Annabeth grinned, still watching his hands fidgeting in his lap like a new book. Percy grinned at the way she said it like a challenge, a new feat for an ADHD kid to learn. It sounded perfect in fact, since they were all so fidgety.

"I wouldn't mind showing you the basics, that I know," Magnus happily nodded, that they might actually have something in common, might actually have a reason to hang out away from this place where they weren't forced into each other's company. Gods, it had been so long since he'd been around family, the idea almost frightened him. Hearth and Blitz had been the closest he'd had for so long, and now he wasn't even sure if they were okay. It was a dizzying kind of relief and guilt and pain all at once.

He glanced up when we all filed in with our weapons and armor clanking. "School group? We're about to close up."

"Oh the deja vu," Magnus chuckled. "I hope another fury doesn't pop in. We've had enough of them."

"You know guys, I think Chiron might have been onto something when he told me those Greek myths would be important in my life," Percy nodded solemnly as he got a chuckle out of everyone, his heart leaping with pride even Annabeth managed a small but genuine laugh as she flashed him a smile before she kept going.

"No," I said. "Six-hundredth floor."

He checked us out. His eyes were pale blue and his head was completely bald. I couldn't tell if he was human or not, but he seemed to notice our weapons, so I guess he wasn't fooled by the Mist.

"I am so fascinated by the implications here!" Jason's blue eyes glinted with their own light when his voice got that high-pitched with excitement. "Do they only hire mortals who can see through the mist? Is he like Paul and just accepts something is going on but doesn't understand what? Is he the god of security?"

Annabeth grinned at his curiosity. "I've asked on the field trips we went on, it's usually the same mortal. Chiron told us that, but Luke told me this legend about how he once darted across traffic to save a kitten and Mr. D granted him with the best pension and clear sight to keep doing his great work of keeping solicitors out."

Percy felt a wavering sense of jealousy as his eyes darted between Jason spluttering how cool that was and what other gifts she knew gods had bestowed, and Annabeth just casually mentioning Luke's name like someone else wasn't wearing his face.

Why had she attacked-kissed him if he was apparently the least interesting person in her life?

Will had gotten roped in now debating with Annabeth if that one super soft blanket everyone kept stealing was a godly gift or an enchanted item from the attic, and Thalia decided to cut in before the last dumb-struck blonde could get over his usual 'I have no clue what's going on' face to join in and this became a whole thing since Alex and Nico were being zero help and just enjoying the show.

"I thought we were all tired and wanting to go to bed?" She groaned. "This is not the kind of three AM conversation I'd stay awake for." They really hadn't even been at this that long, but Nico and Percy were dragging bad and it was only late afternoon at best.

"Only because we don't have any sugar sticks handy," Percy smirked at her. "I can go get some."

Annabeth shook herself and got back on track. "Every time you eat sugar before you go to bed you roll over in your sleep more than a rotisserie chicken."

She kept reading loudly over any lingering looks of why she'd know that.

"There is no six-hundredth floor, kid."

"Is this not the same guy who you showed off that lightning bolt to?" Magnus asked in surprise. "I thought you'd be a pretty memorable guy from that."

"It's been a few years, I've had a growth spurt despite what some people say," he shot Annabeth an aggrieved look who merely grinned. "I guess it's possible some other kids have come and gone through with purple backpacks full of godly items."

Not ones Magnus particularly wanted to meet as he tried not to crawl under his seat at the idea of being forced into this kind of job as a reward. Yeah, it sounded like he'd get to read ninety percent of the time on the clock, but the downside was, well, kids like Percy showing up out of the blue.

He said it like it was a required line he didn't believe.

"I want him to say there's no tooth fairy and easter bunny too," Alex chuckled. "I just want to hear someone say that like they hope it is true."

"I can't even help you with that Alex," Thalia grinned, "I hope they aren't real too, because I just know they'd be monsters I'd have to deal with."

Alex gave a long, exaggerated, forlorn sigh.

"Move along."

I leaned across the desk. "Forty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want us hanging out in your lobby?"

He thought about that. Then he hit a buzzer and the security gate swung open. "Make it quick."

"Has any visit to Olympus been quick?" Magnus asked. Every time he heard of the place there were councils and parties, neither of which felt like a ten-minute visit.

"The trip back down when Zeus tosses you," Percy said. Hopefully not from personal experience.

"You don't want us going through the metal detectors," I added.

"Um, no," he agreed. "Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way."

Percy chuckled as he ran his fingers over his beaded necklace. This might have only been his second time this way, but yeah, he'd say he had a pretty good idea.

I tossed him a golden drachma and we marched on through.

We decided it would take two trips to get everybody up in the elevator. I went with the first group.

Different elevator music was playing since my last visit—that old disco song "Stayin' Alive." A terrifying image flashed through my mind of Apollo in bell-bottom pants and a slinky silk shirt.

Will groaned and covered his eyes in pain at the idea while Alex of course had to escalate it, "afro, of course, and shag carpet walls, oh, oh, and a disco ball flashing a rainbow of colors!"

"Never, ever, let this one have a video camera. Our life will be over," Jason said in fascination, which Will full-heartedly agreed with.

I was glad when the elevator doors finally dinged open. In front of us, a path of floating stones led through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering six thousand feet over Manhattan.

I'd seen Olympus several times, but it still took my breath away. The mansions glittered gold and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloomed on a hundred terraces. Scented smoke rose from braziers that lined the winding streets. And right at the top of the snow-capped crest rose the main palace of the gods.

Percy thought Annabeth sounded fondly disinterested, like she was reading of an old lego set she'd knocked down herself for her sixth better attempt.

Because she was. She still remembered the first time seeing this place and being just as in awe...and yet mapping in her head how she would have done it different, done it better. Her mother either would have been proud of her thoughts or scorned them and she'd whispered to Luke in fear of this, and he'd smiled and assured her Athena had no reason to punish her when this wasn't the goddess's personal layout.

Now, it was hers. Annabeth had nearly finished her remodeling of Olympus. This was just an old doodle she'd find in an old scrapbook.

It looked as majestic as ever, but something seemed wrong. Then I realized the mountain was silent—no music, no voices, no laughter.

Annabeth studied me. "You look . . . different," she decided.

Nico looked at her strangely. "What are you talking about? He didn't actually look any different when he wasn't slaughtering my dad's army."

Annabeth shrugged, she couldn't have described it to him or anyone. Like someone had weaved an image of Percy together and inlaid it over him from the day before. He had looked identical, he still had that mole on the inside of his right arm, he'd still studied everything around him with those green eyes that always left her guessing what was going to come out of that mouth.

...He'd just been, different. The way he carried himself, making him seem taller. His confidence of accepting the responsibility Chiron had bestowed upon him.

"Where exactly did you go?"

"Down to the Underworld for a bath," Alex oh so helpfully reminded.

"Now where were you when I needed that answer," Annabeth sighed.

Alex laughed he'd probably been sleeping in a dumpster a few states over, which would only be funny to him.

The elevator doors opened again, and the second group of half-bloods joined us.

"Tell you later," I said. "Come on."

Annabeth still took the time to look around at Percy with a really punctual stank eye for leaving her in the dark on this the others had no choice but to laugh at when Percy just gave her an innocent smile back.

We made our way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops were closed. The parks were empty. A couple of Muses sat on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but their hearts didn't seem to be in it. A lone Cyclops swept the street with an uprooted oak tree. A minor godling spotted us from a balcony and ducked inside, closing his shutters.

"So, like," Magnus scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. "When you showed up last time and they were on the brink of war, did these guys all just think that was casual Friday, or, am I missing something?"

"Zeus and Posideon throw those kinds of tantrums to often for them to care," Thalia reminded in exhaustion. "Now their either helping the war efforts or in hiding." Long, long after the fact of when they should have been.

We passed under a big marble archway with statues of Zeus and Hera on either side. Annabeth made a face at the queen of the gods.

"Hate her," she muttered.

A feeling that had only grown worse over time, the manipulative peacock she was. If Annabeth could tie her up over the pit of Tartarus and chuck golden apples at her once a day she would.

Percy was here, she reminded herself with some kind of mental calm, but it was like dropping a pebble into a creek. It barely rippled across the surface before it was rushed away into a storm of problems of who would try to take Percy away next and what all this was a plan for.

"Has she been cursing you or something?" I asked. Last year Annabeth had gotten on Hera's bad side, but Annabeth hadn't really talked about it since.

Percy glanced in concern at her now. The idea bothered him a lot of what all she'd been through out in California, what she'd never told him, or Chiron, or Thalia, or anybody because she was trying to deal with it on her own when he'd known from that first blown up bus they worked better together as a team.

"Just little stuff so far," she said. "Her sacred animal is the cow, right?"

"Right."

"So she sends cows after me."

I tried not to smile. "Cows? In San Francisco?"

"Cows are no joke Percy," Alex told him in a weirdly serious kind of voice. "More people die from cow attacks than practically any predator you can name."

"Well yeah, more people are around them," Jason said fairly. "If we hearded sharks by the thousands and actively tried to breed them with people around at all hours their numbers would be much higher."

"More people are killed by coconuts than sharks, not the best animal to pick," Thalia chuckled.

"How did we get here? How do we go back?" Annabeth sighed, before she kept reading loudly over them.

"Oh, yeah. Usually I don't see them, but the cows leave me little presents all over the place—in our backyard, on the sidewalk, in the school hallways. I have to be careful where I step."

"That sounds more like she was trying to convert you to go country than any real 'you'll regret this' vibe." Magnus wasn't ungrateful an all-powerful goddess hadn't placed some deadly curse on his cousin like Ares had to Percy, but it seemed mild in comparison from what little he'd gleaned of the big Hercules, Hera debacle.

"Well I have had practice with a gun or two if it works out like that," she chuckled at standing in her dad's camel and mock spewing a hail of bullets down on the next row of monsters before rushing off to remind him she wasn't in the car for him to be pulling out.

"Look!" Pollux cried, pointing toward the horizon. "What is that?"

We all froze. Blue lights were streaking across the evening sky toward Olympus like tiny comets.

"Are we throwing a concert right now?" Alex sounded mildly amused and partly concerned. "Did the god of theatrics stick around for morals and make his own audience?"

"When is it ever something so friendly and innocent?" Percy sighed.

They seemed to be coming from all over the city, heading straight toward the mountain. As they got close, they fizzled out. We watched them for several minutes and they didn't seem to do any damage, but still it was strange.

"That was the most ADHD sentence I've yet heard," Will snorted. "We all just stood around and watched the fireflies get zapped in the middle of our very important mission."

"No worse than getting sidetracked to the arch, or a siren song, or- ouch-" Percy yelped more in surprise than pain as Annabeth pinched him when she realized he was only listing her sidetracks.

"Like infrared scopes," Michael Yew muttered. "We're being targeted."

"That was already obvious," Jason tried to say like this was of no real concern. Kronos had never made it a secret this was his plan.

Still, his skin twitched in anticipation at the idea of giving someone who stared down an arrow shaft a scope for better aim and a more high-powered weapon to boot to return fire. This guy was going to make some monster's life hell.

"Let's get to the palace," I said.

No one was guarding the hall of the gods.

Nico had been a little preoccupied back when Percy's first adventure had been recounted, but some part of him back then had been equally fascinated and disturbed at how easily his father's helm had been stolen as well as Zeus's bolt. The gods of myth were so lax, Percy's dream of them more like toddlers arguing over a toy felt more grounded every day.

Which wasn't a worldview he was happy to be shifting into. He worried the next time he didn't kneel before his father because he was to busy trying not to laugh about wondering what Percy would call Persephone's throne. Probably something to do with it being made out of Skittles.

The gold-and-silver doors stood wide open. Our footsteps echoed as we walked into the throne room.

Of course, "room" doesn't really cover it. The place was the size of Madison Square Garden. High above, the blue ceiling glittered with constellations. Twelve giant empty thrones stood in a U around a hearth. In one corner, a house-size globe of water hovered in the air, and inside swam my old friend the Ophiotaurus, half-cow, half-serpent.

"Bessie's back!" Alex cooed in delight. "I hope he's been getting to stretch his legs more than that little bubble!"

"I'm sure he's beach-balled around Olympus plenty," Percy agreed, slightly guilty that he was relieved his old friend wasn't wandering around the ocean getting caught in more nets and bullied by orcas. He might be under supervision up there, but at least he was safe.

...then he grimaced at his own thought. Gods, he sounded like an overprotective parent. Just because he could destroy the world didn't mean he'd ever let his dad ground him out of the ocean. When this was all over, he might have to find a way to liberate Bessie instead and throw him in the lake at Camp. Apparently it was easy enough to bust in and out of this place even when the gods were around.

"Moooo!" he said happily, turning in a circle.

Despite all the serious stuff going on, I had to smile. Two years ago we'd spent a lot of time trying to save the Ophiotaurus from the Titans, and I'd gotten kind of fond of him. He seemed to like me too, even though I'd originally thought he was a girl and named him Bessie.

"That's one of the reasons I decided I did like you Perce," Alex fondly reminded.

"Yeah yeah, my ability to entertain you has been the highlight of my amnesia trip down memory lane," Percy shook his head.

"Hey, man," I said. "They treating you okay?"

"Mooo," Bessie answered.

"I bet they give him lots of sweet grass and remind him of vegetarianism every day," Magnus nodded before they all started snickering, leaving Annabeth to sigh and give a green glare to the quest she'd missed out on the most.

We walked toward the thrones, and a woman's voice said, "Hello again, Percy Jackson. You and your friends are welcome."

Hestia stood by the hearth, poking the flames with a stick. She wore the same kind of simple brown dress as she had before, but she was a grown woman now.

There was no point in questioning why a goddess would make herself appear older in her own home than the girl she'd been when first meeting Percy, but it was still a change that interested Jason a lot. Did she always do this on The Capitoline Hill to make herself appear older, more mature, in line with her siblings?

I bowed. "Lady Hestia."

My friends followed my example.

Annabeth read that strangly to Percy's ears, because she didn't say it like it was any big thing. No laugh in her voice, no hint of agitation it wasn't her in charge, the person who obviously should be. He still found it harder to wrap his head around the idea he had his camps, Annabeth's blind trust, when about this time five years ago he'd been the whispered traitor to at least half of them.

Hestia regarded me with her red glowing eyes. "I see you went through with your plan. You bear the curse of Achilles."

The other campers started muttering among themselves: What did she say? What about Achilles?

"Bear the curse of I kill these monsters," Nico helpfully interpreted with a conspiratorial wink at Percy. "She obviously wasn't giving away you just gave yourself a massive upgrade and a huge weak spot somewhere on you in a room with a possible traitor."

"Thanks man," Percy nodded, "I'm sure that's exactly what they heard."

"You must be careful," Hestia warned me. "You gained much on your journey. But you are still blind to the most important truth. Perhaps a glimpse is in order."

Annabeth nudged me. "Um . . . what is she talking about?"

"You see Annabeth, Achilles was this hero that- okay, ow," Percy broke off in a laugh as she elbowed him.

I stared into Hestia's eyes, and an image rushed into my mind: I saw a dark alley between red brick warehouses. A sign above one of the doors read RICHMOND IRONWORKS.

Annabeth immediately knew what Hestia was about to show him. She really should have seen this coming, with the path the goddess was on to show Luke's trail. It didn't make her happy about it, as was evidenced by her hands tensing tight enough around the book like she was imagining strangling it for a few seconds rather than choking out what came next.

"Annabeth?"

She looked over at Percy watching her in concern. It instantly reminded her it didn't matter if a bunch of strangers heard this. The most important person to her already had.

Two half-bloods crouched in the shadows—a boy about fourteen and a girl about twelve. I realized with a start that the boy was Luke. The girl was Thalia, daughter of Zeus. I was seeing a scene from back in the days when they were on the run, before Grover found them.

Luke carried a bronze knife. Thalia had her spear and shield of terror, Aegis. Luke and Thalia both looked hungry and lean, with wild animal eyes, like they were used to being attacked.

Thalia laughed a noise that didn't sound pleasant in any way. Some days she still woke up in her tent with this memory the last thing her mind lingered on before she jumped into her day. Sometimes it was fondness and made her smile as she went around. Some days it made her so irritable Phoebe would threaten to tie her to a tree.

"Are you sure?" Thalia asked.

Luke nodded. "Something down here. I sense it."

A rumble echoed from the alley, like someone had banged on a sheet of metal. The half-bloods crept forward.

Old crates were stacked on a loading dock. Thalia and Luke approached with their weapons ready. A curtain of corrugated tin quivered as if something were behind it.

Thalia glanced at Luke. He counted silently: One, two, three! He ripped away the tin, and a little girl flew at him with a hammer.

"Whoa!" Luke said.

The girl had tangled blond hair and was wearing flannel pajamas. She couldn't have been more than seven, but she would've brained Luke if he hadn't been so fast.

"Annabeth," Percy said again. She looked around. He was still scrutinizing her intensely. She thought he was going to say something sweet, or profound, or even awful about Luke. "How many monsters did you manage to debrain with that? I wish I knew all these years I could have been calling you Thor."

She laughed, enchanted as always at Percy keeping her so grounded. "It was a strategy worthy of a god, if I do say so myself," she mock blew on her nails and brushed them against her grungy shirt. "See, I lured them in with that noise and caught them off guard thinking they were going to be dealing with something much bigger. I managed to nail two different monsters."

Percy laughed, and the thrill that she seemed to mean half as much to him as he did her still rocked her socks in moments like this. Where Thalia chuckled along on her other side and everything just felt right.

He grabbed her wrist, and the hammer skittered across the cement.

That had been her father's favorite hammer, the one he rarely misplaced because his years of using it had the grip just right. She'd taken it the night before and tried to bash all of those spiders away but only managed to put a hole in the wall her stepmother would have never let her hear the end of.

She hadn't bothered to go looking for it when he put her down moments later.

The little girl fought and kicked. "No more monsters! Go away!"

Percy chuckled and called her a spitfire, but Magnus couldn't manage anything but a painful wince. Gods, his cousin had really been through the kind of crap that made people never bother to think they could turn their life back around. All before he'd even been attacked by wolves two years ago.

"It's okay!" Luke struggled to hold her. "Thalia, put your shield up. You're scaring her."

Thalia tapped Aegis, and it shrank into a silver bracelet. "Hey, it's all right," she said. "We're not going to hurt you. I'm Thalia. This is Luke."

"Monsters!"

"No," Luke promised. "But we know all about monsters. We fight them too."

Slowly, the girl stopped kicking. She studied Luke and Thalia with large intelligent gray eyes.

"Was he still dangling you by your good hammer arm while promising that, cause uh, I have opinions," Jason frowned.

"Like a legitime rename of this chapter could be called hammer time," Alex snickered.

"No, he'd put me down when Thalia put her shield away," Annabeth assured.

Percy still wasn't a fan of the way she was slightly blushing as she thought back on this moment, like a part of her brain was wondering if he'd thought she looked silly while fighting for her life, but it wasn't his memory to really be commenting on to bring it up.

"You're like me?" she said suspiciously.

"Yeah," Luke said. "We're . . . well, it's hard to explain, but we're monster fighters. Where's your family?"

"My family hates me," the girl said. "They don't want me. I ran away."

Annabeth paused and licked her lips and still hated the part of herself that didn't know how to move on from that feeling at a time like this. There were far more important things going on. She knew her dad regretted neglecting her for so long, letting it get this bad, but somehow even now years later while they were trying to put together their relationship, this memory was the first time she rememebred that, oh yeah, she should tell her dad Percy's alive too. The last in the long list of people to share the best news with. And whether that would make him stop what he was doing long enough to hear her anyway.

Looking up in surprise at a noise, she saw Magnus trying to rub his nose and pretend like he'd sneezed.

Gods, her cousin was in here. A part of her family she hadn't thought about in so long he felt more like a memory than Frostine was.

She kept waiting for something that clearly wasn't coming as she smiled awkwardly at him and he did the same back. She glanced at Percy, pretty convinced if Magnus had been in here cussing her out for doing this to his life Percy wouldn't be so casual around the guy.

She just didn't know what else to expect from someone of her family being in here.

"Is it, better now?" Magnus finally broke the awkward silence as he asked. "You, um, you've been staying with him a bit, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed softly. "It's, better." Not great. She sat at the table for family dinners and was included in conversation...just, ones she had little to partake in. She was okay in school, but her brothers were doing great with their consistent methods, so that was sticky. Her dad and step-mom asked her how her day was, but there was a thinly veiled fear as they awaited her answer to know if any monster sightings had been spotted.

She knew what she was wanting, what she kept expecting to happen. The ease she had with Sally and Paul to finally lull her into feeling comfortable there. It hadn't happened yet, but she'd keep trying as long as her dad did.

Thalia and Luke locked eyes. I knew they both related to what she was saying.

"Oh really Percy?" Thalia's voice was acidic with the kind of internal frustration that she was surprised had never made her spontaneously combust. "Is that what you picked up on?" Gods, where was this boy's perception skill when Annabeth was involved?!

Annabeth gave her a sad, understanding little smile, and that just made it worse. She was smiling about this memory because it was the best day of her life, and just like that moment all those years ago, Thalia shoved everything she was feeling aside to make sure she didn't scare Annabeth off. She'd made sure that girl ate before she bothered to take a bite, she'd made sure Annabeth always had Luke to turn to no matter what she needed to get off her chest. She regretted none of it, not even when she'd given up her life for the sibling she'd finally managed to do right by.

It only angered her because looking back on all this, she couldn't even convince herself she'd done the wrong thing by not snatching the kid away and leaving Luke there. It never, ever would have happened. Percy had been right, in one of his more annoying features. There hadn't been anything different she could have done, not to save Annabeth or Luke from what happened.

"What's your name, kiddo?" Thalia asked.

"Annabeth."

Will faux gasped. "I thought we'd been transported into one of my memories!"

"You wish you could swing around a hammer in flannel pj's," Nico snorted.

"Got to keep those hopes and dreams alive somehow," Will chuckled.

Luke smiled. "Nice name. I tell you what, Annabeth—you're pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you."

Annabeth's eyes widened. "You could?"

"Oh, yeah." Luke turned his knife and offered her the handle. "How'd you like a real monster-slaying weapon? This is Celestial bronze. Works a lot better than a hammer."

Percy hadn't a lot of room in his head from Hestia beaming this memory right into his brain for his own thoughts to get much in, but he felt a great swirl of them like someone had pulled a plug on a tub of water. Gods, she'd always looked so fierce with that knife, and she'd been given it by Luke. Why did that annoy him so much, and yet not surprise him all at once.

The fond smile on her face made any little minor problems he had with it worth everything. He'd do anything just to see her smile, it was worth any cost, including putting on a brave face and getting through this without throwing out insults on Luke.

"What's the first monster you killed with that thing?" Jason asked, holding his coin tight. He knew he was projecting, a longing he could know something like that, but he wanted to know more about her too.

"An amphisbaena,"** Annabeth smiled with pride. "A dragon with a head at each end," she explained to several confused faces. "Thalia and Luke were keeping one head distracted, and I managed to stab her deep enough right in her other brain."

"At seven?" Magnus repeated as he wondered how much therapy cost.

"Probably one of the youngest, biggest kills at camp," she agreed with pride. She still remembered telling her eldest sister at the time when she'd showed up about this and having leadership nearly shoved into her lap by the relieved girl.

Maybe under most circumstances, offering a seven-year-old kid a knife would not be a good idea, but when you're a half-blood, regular rules kind of go out the window.

"I really want to know who you think that PSA is for?" Nico snickered in surprise.

"I want to know how often Percy recreated that 'this is your egg-brain on drugs,' one," Magnus snorted.

"Enough that my mom banned me from using a frying pan for seven months," Percy sighed.

Annabeth gripped the hilt.

"Knives are only for the bravest and quickest fighters," Luke explained. "They don't have the reach or power of a sword, but they're easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy's armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling you're pretty clever."

He'd instantly clocked her as a child of Athena, Annabeth remembered feeling pride for the first time in her life. Her dad had always described that golden cradle of her arrival as something that had been a distraction he'd never wanted, but when Luke looked at her and seen her mother's eyes he'd made her feel for the first time what her mom was supposed to be capable of.

Annabeth stared at him with adoration. "I am!"

Thalia grinned. "We'd better get going, Annabeth. We have a safe house on the James River. We'll get you some clothes and food."

"You're . . . you're not going to take me back to my family?" she said. "Promise?"

Thalia could have said what came next with Annabeth. They were supposed to be each other's family. They were supposed to protect each other from ever getting left behind again.

Her anger at Luke failing that promise, repeatedly, didn't seem to be shared though, as Annabeth read what happened next gently, like she was still leaning down and vowing the words to herself all those years ago.

She glanced at Percy and knew her little sister had still gotten her family, if not the one she'd been promised. At least it had worked out for her in the long run. It was enough to stop her feeling like the useless part in this she'd played as a tree.

Luke put his hand on her shoulder. "You're part of our family now. And I promise I won't let anything hurt you. I'm not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?"

"Deal!" Annabeth said happily.

Magnus was happy for her, that she seemed happy now. That the problems she'd had in life all the way up to this moment didn't seem to leave her with lingering regrets because she read that with the kind of smile of someone looking back at their old stuffed animal. She didn't need that security item anymore, but she'd never replace the ice cream stains all over it.

"Now, come on," Thalia said. "We can't stay put for long!"

The scene shifted. The three demigods were running through the woods. It must've been several days later, maybe even weeks.

The best weeks of Annabeth's young life, the time that had truly carved out who she really was. She couldn't have cared less about not having a roof over her head or the array of squashed, half eaten, or stolen food. They'd listened to her.

Luke and Thalia had believed her every time she said she saw a monster on the street and either prepared for battle or rushed her away, promising they'd find out what it was at the next stop to know better. The freedom of just being able to talk and laugh, even when they did have to quiet her down when they heard something she didn't because they weren't telling her the monsters weren't real. They'd been telling her to look alive and focus on them.

She loved Camp. She loved Chiron and the campers and that place was her home. But she always still craved this adrenaline rush of speeding off to their next destination and what they'd find along the way.

All of them looked beat up, like they'd seen some battles. Annabeth was wearing new clothes—jeans and an oversize army jacket.

"Just a little farther!" Luke promised. Annabeth stumbled, and he took her hand. Thalia brought up the rear, brandishing her shield like she was driving back whatever pursued them. She was limping on her left leg.

Thalia shifted her weight around, grumbling about that old Teumessian fox. Her tail had been on fire, which probably helped a lot in that whole 'can never be caught' part of her myth. The predator learned something about her that day too though, don't ambush her little sister in their den if you didn't want a shield in the face.

They scrambled to a ridge and looked down the other side at a white Colonial house—May Castellan's place.

"All right," Luke said, breathing hard. "I'll just sneak in and grab some food and medicine. Wait here."

"Luke, are you sure?" Thalia asked. "You swore you'd never come back here. If she catches you—"

"We don't have a choice!" he growled. "They burned our nearest safe house.

"They?" Jason asked in concern. Monsters he knew the trio could deal with, but if some minions of Kronos or something had been after them all the way back then, that was even worse.

"We'd been fleeing from this fox and dog at war with each other. The fox can never be caught, she's called the Teumessian fox, and the dog always catches his prey, he's Laelaps. They're in this eternal struggle now thanks to the gods, and we happened to be caught in the middle of it."

"Aren't those also constellations?" Percy asked. He didn't know why, but he tended to remember stories better when they had stars. Maybe because of Zoe.

"Yeah, Zeus supposedly tried to end the paradox by turning them into Canis Major and Canis Minor, but you know how long that kind of thing lasts in our world," Annabeth said with a proud smile at Percy.

And you've got to treat that leg wound."

"This is your house?" Annabeth said with amazement.

"It was my house," Luke muttered. "Believe me, if it wasn't an emergency—"

"Is your mom really horrible?" Annabeth asked. "Can we see her?"

"No!" Luke snapped.

Annabeth shrank away from him as though his anger surprised her.

It was the first time he'd ever snapped at her, Annabeth frowned. In all that time, he'd never raised his voice at her, only shouting at their enemies.

It was no surprise to her Hestia was showing these memories. This is what had saved the world, Luke had chosen to remember these little moments, their family, his promise.

"I . . . I'm sorry," he said. "Just wait here. I promise everything will be okay. Nothing's going to hurt you. I'll be back—"

A brilliant golden flash illuminated the woods. The demigods winced, and a man's voice boomed: "You should not have come home."

The vision shut off.

"Rude," Alex spluttered like someone had just turned off his favorite program.

"Most things in my life tend to be," Percy nodded without surprise.

"This wasn't your life," Thalia looked around at him in consternation.

"I witnessed it, part of my life now, influxing the rudeness," Percy grinned.

"In-influencing?" Magnus tried to correct.

He was ignored as Annabeth rolled her eyes and called Percy a seaweed brain, which meant Oceanus could have popped back in and it would have fallen on deaf ears.

My knees buckled, but Annabeth grabbed me. "Percy! What happened?"

"Did . . . did you see that?" I asked.

"See what?"

I glanced at Hestia, but the goddess's face was expressionless.

"Gods forbid she show a hint of regret for throwing other people's lives on display," Nico scowled.

"Where do I sign up?" Jason sighed. He wouldn't even complain at this rate if his life was beamed into someone else's head, at least they'd explain it to him.

Nico wanted to assure him he'd get his life back, but he worried it felt like an empty promise. Nico had been trying to get his past life back for years and still only had scraps.

I remembered something she'd told me in the woods: If you are to understand your enemy Luke, you must understand his family. But why had she shown me those scenes?

Percy gulped as Thalia and Annabeth had very similar looks of wishing to smack him. "Okay, got it," Percy tried to save himself from a bruise even the curse couldn't prevent. "I was still stuck on Hermes' voice popping up at the end of that when he wasn't in the rest."

"Gods you and your one track mind," Annabeth sounded so exasperated by him like she'd been dealing with him all her life.

"I still say we should try using different treats to motivate him, maybe the right combination of barbeque and candy will open his mind wider," Thalia clearly brought up an old argument with her.

"I'm worried we'd piss off Zeus by making him even more unstoppable," Annabeth shook her head as if this were a legitimate worry.

While Percy sat between them still frowning and trying to figure out why Hermes had shown up when he did.

"How long was I out?" I muttered.

Annabeth knit her eyebrows. "Percy, you weren't out at all. You just looked at Hestia for like one second and collapsed."

I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I couldn't afford to look weak. Whatever those visions meant, I had to stay focused on our mission.

Percy jolted in surprise as everyone around him in the room sighed. "What?" He demanded, trying to shake off his vision. He'd heard Annabeth continue reading and hadn't heard anything significant.

"Never change Percy," Alex reminded fondly.

"Or Zeus might destroy you," Magnus muttered.

Percy looked blearily at them, then at Annabeth for what he'd missed, but didn't protest as she kept going again.

"Um, Lady Hestia," I said, "we've come on urgent business. We need to see—"

"We know what you need," a man's voice said. I shuddered, because it was the same voice I'd heard in the vision.

"Last time he showed up he gave you a bunch of limited edition stuff and sent you on a monster cruise to get his kid to act right, only half of which worked out as planned," Will winced. He knew nobody had even died from this visit and he still felt a pit of worry at Connor's dad showing back up in Percy's life. At Luke's dad making an appearance at the most inopportune time just like the mail he often delivered. Why did he always seem to remember to send those rare birthday cards days after the event for that extra punch in the gut?

Annabeth found that a strange way to sum up their time in the sea of monsters, but not inaccurate either.

A god shimmered into existence next to Hestia. He looked about twenty-five, with curly salt-andpepper hair and elfish features. He wore a military pilot's flight suit, with tiny bird's wings fluttering on his helmet and his black leather boots. In the crook of his arm was a long staff entwined with two living serpents.

"The saviors of this chapter, spoiler alert," Thalia chuckled.

Percy chuckled for her, but Annabeth sunk lower into her beanbag.

"I will leave you now," Hestia said. She bowed to the aviator and disappeared into smoke. I understood why she was so anxious to go. Hermes, the God of Messengers, did not look happy.

"I guess nothing in his contract says he has to be smiling while delivering in all weather, apocalypse included," Magnus said with a nervous smile.

"The real question is, what's he there to deliver?" Alex said with narrowed eyes. Judging by all appearances, it felt like it was going to be a death threat rather than a letter this time.

"Hello, Percy." His brow furrowed as though he was annoyed with me, and I wondered if he somehow knew about the vision I'd just had.

"Wouldn't surprise me!" Percy threw his hands up in exasperation. "Somewhere out there, the gods are laughing their asses off at me having to get my memories back via them! I can't do anything in my life without hop-scotching from ticking off one to pleasing another!"

He was building up miniature storm clouds over his head the longer his anger of this started to brew, gearing up for a fight like it had been Ares to appear in the room instead.

Annabeth had a feeling she knew why as she slowly lowered one arm back down to his side. The other followed reluctantly as he watched her, trouble in his eyes, but a soothing, confident smile on his face like he was just posturing.

Gods she loved him.

I wanted to ask why he'd been in May Castellan's house that night, and what had happened after he caught Luke.

'Caught,' Thalia winced at Percy's choice of words. Like Luke had done something wrong by going back there. Like his thief-like inherited skills weren't up to par by the god witnessing him sneak in and out.

The worst part was, Percy seemed to have experienced that from Luke's eyes, judging by Hestia's 'gift' to him. So Percy was still channeling how Luke might have taken all that in.

I remembered the first time I'd met Luke at Camp Half-Blood. I'd asked him if he'd ever met his father, and he'd looked at me bitterly and said, Once. But I could tell from Hermes's expression that this was not the time to ask.

"Is now ever a good time with you to ask Percy?" Alex sounded bemused. She couldn't believe Percy had once restrained himself by asking Luke all those years ago, here he was still showing he did have some self-restraint by holding back again against another god when they all knew he was more than capable of blurting out the question.

"Saturdays seem to be the go-to, just to ruin my one day off," Percy sighed.

I bowed awkwardly. "Lord Hermes."

"I feel like you only did that because you bowed to Hestia," Thalia accused. Percy wasn't known for his bowing skills.

"Hence the awkwardly part of that," Percy nodded.

Oh, sure, one of the snakes said in my mind. Don't say hi to us. We're just reptiles.

"Obviously only amphibians should be greeted, they get the most dunked on," Alex nodded seriously.

Considering Percy couldn't name an amphibian off the top of his head, he wasn't up for disagreeing.

George, the other snake scolded. Be polite.

"Hello, George," I said. "Hey, Martha."

"I do love the casualness," Jason chuckled, it still boggled his mind being that chill around a god.

"I'm more surprised Percy didn't bow to the snakes too," Nico smirked.

Did you bring us a rat? George asked.

George, stop it, Martha said. He's busy!

"Am I?" Percy asked blankly, like the appearance of Annabeth's past crossing his mind had wiped out why he was there. Which really wouldn't surprise anyone else.

"Zeus, world saving, Kronos on the way," Will helpfully reminded.

Percy shook himself. "Right yeah."

Too busy for rats? George said. That's just sad.

"Honestly though. Snackage should always be at least in the top five priorities at any given time." Alex grinned.

"Says the person who showed up in here like a talking watermelon, that doesn't surprise me," Percy snorted, not that he disagreed in the slightest.

I decided it was better not to get into it with George.

"You really should take that back Alex," Annabeth chuckled. "Percy clearly does know how to prioritize."

"Above snacking! I can't say I approve," she shook her head with such misery Percy might have chucked a cupcake on the floor.

"Um, Hermes," I said. "We need to talk to Zeus. It's important."

Hermes's eyes were steely cold. "I am his messenger. May I take a message?"

"I feel like his voice message box is always full and he'll get back to you in a thousand years or so," Thalia frowned.

"I got that vibe too," Percy sighed, "as well as the fact that any packages I might send would explode on sight."

Behind me, the other demigods shifted restlessly. This wasn't going as planned. Maybe if I tried to speak with Hermes in private . . .

"So that he can rip your bones out one by one without an audience? Jee Percy, you sure are considerate," Nico frowned. He never liked not knowing why a god was pissed at Percy this time.

"That's me, just the most helpful guy to all parties," Percy sighed.

"You guys," I said. "Why don't you do a sweep of the city? Check the defenses. See who's left in Olympus. Meet Annabeth and me back here in thirty minutes."

"Scavenger hunt on Olympus!" Alex gasped in delight.

"No Alex," Magnus frowned.

"They should at least start by building a moat and drawbridge, setting up spikes with all of Aprhitdie's infinite hairbrushes," Thalia offered.

"Yes, she gets it," Alex cackled. "Use Demeter's cows as quick plows for that, I bet Ares wouldn't even be mad if you used his sacred oak paintings of himself as material."

"We're all going to be cursed when we get out of here," Magnus sighed.

Silena frowned. "But—"

"That's a good idea," Annabeth said. "Connor and Travis, you two lead."

The Stolls seemed to like that—getting handed an important responsibility right in front of their dad.

"Which hopefully deterred them from doing anything to crazy," Nico said without much hope.

"Nothing got shoved down their pants, they stuck to things that would fit in their pockets only," Will said in that unhelpful way of unknown sarcasm.

They usually never led anything except toilet paper raids.

"So this really isn't much of a step up, honestly you guys, you should try giving them something of actual importance," Thalia rolled her eyes.

"Next time I need to save the world I'll ask if they want to go ahead," Percy nodded.

"We're on it!" Travis said. They herded the others out of the throne room, leaving Annabeth and me with Hermes.

"I feel like the title already should have been changed to, Annabeth and Two Snakes Save My Life," Percy frowned.

Annabeth forced a chuckle that sounded like she was choking. Percy had in fact saved her life. His faith it was the opposite warmed her heart as much as she adored him for that.

"My lord," Annabeth said. "Kronos is going to attack New York. You must suspect that. My mother must have foreseen it."

"Your mother's not psychic Annabeth," Magnus said, then frowned and asked hopefully, "right?"

"No more than the other gods," Annabeth sighed. "Foresight of good planning."

"Your mother," Hermes grumbled. He scratched his back with his caduceus, and George and Martha muttered Ow, ow, ow. "Don't get me started on your mother, young lady. She's the reason I'm here at all. Zeus didn't want any of us to leave the front line. But your mother kept pestering him nonstop, 'It's a trap, it's a diversion, blah, blah, blah.' She wanted to come back herself, but Zeus was not going to let his number one strategist leave his side while we're battling Typhon. And so naturally he sent me to talk to you."

"I sense a bit of saltiness like Percy's dad showed up instead," Jason said uneasily.

"I want to know what Ares had to say about Athena being his top strategist," Alex grinned.

Annabeth sighed that they seemed to have missed the big picture where her mother had been right! May Zeus have mercy on them if they could actually hear this or they'd all be obliterated by now.

"But it is a trap!" Annabeth insisted. "Is Zeus blind?"

Thunder rolled through the sky.

"I'd watch the comments, girl," Hermes warned.

"Oh how the turn tables," Percy said with a delighted smile. "I see he's thinking of taking the diplomatic approach with me."

Annabeth gave him a blank look, she felt like that was a dig at her telling Hera to clear off but that didn't feel right.

"Zeus is not blind or deaf. He has not left Olympus completely undefended."

"But there are these blue lights—"

"Yes, yes. I saw them. Some mischief by that insufferable goddess of magic, Hecate, I'd wager, but you may have noticed they aren't doing any damage. Olympus has strong magical wards. Besides, Aeolus, the King of the Winds, has sent his most powerful minions to guard the citadel. No one save the gods can approach Olympus from the air. They would be knocked out of the sky."

"Why can't they just put that around your camp, and, just around Kronos? Keep him stuck in one spot for good this time," Magnus frowned.

"Because that would be to easy," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Because that's the kind of direct interference they actively try to avoid," Thalia scoffed.

"Because it wouldn't hold him indefinitely, no prison ever will," Annabeth frowned at these two being unhelpful to her cousin. Poor Magnus and what all he must have been through down here.

Magnus didn't really like any of their answers though so it was kind of a moot point.

I raised my hand. "Um . . . what about that materializing/teleporting thing you guys do?"

"Excellent question Percy," Alex nodded.

Percy grinned because he so rarely got that reaction. Usually, they just laughed at him.

"That's a form of air travel too, Jackson.

"Ooo, last names, I am in trouble," Percy rolled his eyes with far to much nonchalance for a guy about to die, again.

Very fast, but the wind gods are faster. No, if Kronos wants Olympus, he'll have to march through the entire city with his army and take the elevators! Can you see him doing this?"

"Yes," all eight of them said in varying levels of confidence. He'd gone through so much already, his determination wasn't going to be stopped by a little thing like an elevator. He'd probably do something even more psycho, like take a staircase all the way up there.

Hermes made it sound pretty ridiculous—hordes of monsters going up in the elevator twenty at a time, listening to "Stayin' Alive."

"I mean, it's an apt song for them," Nico said fairly.

"I know at least Bigfoot will stay on beat," Alex nodded along.

Still, I didn't like it.

"Maybe just a few of you could come back," I suggested.

"There's some obvious answers to pick and I'm still not sure what good they'd do," Will shook his head. Posideon might have helped turn the tide on defeating Typhon, but he still believed in the idea that it took the gods and their children's combined power to stop all these threats in their own ways. Any god coming back to offer assistance would have interfered in Their quest, when a minor helping hand along the way was all that they had needed to win.

Hermes shook his head impatiently. "Percy Jackson, you don't understand. Typhon is our greatest enemy."

"I thought that was Kronos."

"Percy Jackson, over here telling the gods who their greatest enemy is," Jason sighed while rubbing his temple.

"He wouldn't be Percy if he wasn't impertinent at least once a year," Will nodded.

The god's eyes glowed. "No, Percy. In the old days, Olympus was almost overthrown by Typhon. He is husband of Echidna—"

"Met her at the Arch," I muttered. "Not nice."

"Percy Jackson, still over here casually interrupting the gods," Nico sighed.

"He wouldn't be Percy if he didn't blah, blah, blah," Thalia chuckled as she waved at Will, who still nodded in agreement.

"Are you guys done now?" Percy sighed.

"I wouldn't count on it," Annabeth gave him a stranger than usual look for asking such a dumb question.

"—and the father of all monsters. We can never forget how close he came to destroying us all; how he humiliated us! We were more powerful back in the old days. Now we can expect no help from Poseidon because he's fighting his own war. Hades sits in his realm and does nothing, and Demeter and Persephone follow his lead. It will take all our remaining power to oppose the storm giant. We can't divide our forces, nor wait until he gets to New York. We have to battle him now. And we're making progress."

"What I just heard was a painful amount of ego," Alex rubbed her ear as if it were bruised all the way down the tube.

"Godly sized, some might say," Percy nodded.

"Progress?" I said. "He nearly destroyed St. Louis."

"Yes," Hermes admitted. "But he destroyed only half of Kentucky. He's slowing down. Losing power."

"Only half you say?" Magnus asked mock brazenly.

"It needed some Kentucky fried reducing I'm sure," Alex snorted.

"You two are not funny," Jason sighed.

"I want to know how you cook chicken without power, isn't that food poisoning?" Percy said much to Jason's further dismay.

I didn't want to argue, but it sounded like Hermes was trying to convince himself.

"Glad it wasn't just us," Magnus nodded in thanks.

In the corner, the Ophiotaurus mooed sadly.

"We too should hold a moment of silence for all the sudden chicken prices that will be going up," Alex had to get one last crack in despite multiple grumbles of protest.

"Please, Hermes," Annabeth said. "You said my mother wanted to come. Did she give you any messages for us?"

"Messages," he muttered. "'It'll be a great job,' they told me. 'Not much work. Lots of worshippers.' Hmph. Nobody cares what I have to say. It's always about other people's messages."

"That was deep," Percy said in surprise, wondering if he should have thanked the mailman once in a while.

"Percy getting to witness some philosophy in person, what a historic day this shall be," Thalia snorted.

Rodents, George mused. I'm in it for the rodents.

Shhh, Martha scolded. We care what Hermes has to say. Don't we, George?

Oh, absolutely. Can we go back to the battle now? I want to do laser mode again. That's fun.

"Wouldn't that, hurt their eyes?" Magnus asked in vague concern for the godly snakes.

"George is clearly speaking Hermes' real thoughts there," Annabeth said with a nervous chuckle she tried to hide, she enjoyed hearing them laugh one last time before the fit hit the shan, as her stepmom would say about her next bumble.

"Eating rodents and all?" Percy asked with doubt.

It easily worked, and what was once a casual smile at the snake's comment easily spiraled up into laughter and Alex asking for more crazy options of what the snakes could shoot out of their eyes. She kept smiling for what she wished was a lifetime but was only a few moments more until it culminated in Nico and Jason trying to have a serious discussion if Zeus would allow different colors of lighting before Thalia threatened to shoot rats into the mouth of the next person who wouldn't can it.

"Quiet, both of you," Hermes grumbled.

The god looked at Annabeth, who was doing her big-pleading-gray-eyes thing.

"Oh he's doomed, nobody can resist that," Percy said with the kind of confidence of saying blue was the best color. The sort of biased statement that he couldn't prove but damn anyone who bothered arguing the point.

"Bah," Hermes said. "Your mother said to warn you that you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if I didn't know that. Why they pay her to be the wisdom goddess, I'm not sure."

"They pay her?" Magnus asked, clearly wondering how many infinity signs could fit on a check.

"Pay her in compliments," Percy rolled his eyes while Annabeth frowned at the two.

"Anything else?" Annabeth asked.

"She said you should try plan twenty-three. She said you would know what that meant."

Annabeth's face paled. Obviously she knew what it meant, and she didn't like it.

"You don't like direct advice?" Jason looked at her like she was nuts. "From your mom!" Clearly some lingering humbleness of getting any god's advice was kicking itself awake in him, Percy rolled his eyes.

"Not this plan, you'll see," Annabeth made a face. Those statues had helped, but she still saw some of them wreaking havoc in the city months later and it was nearly a weekly chore to send kids out to keep trying to deactivate them all.

This answer wasn't up to scratch for any of them who had heard it far to much and made the exact same face back at her.

"Go on."

"Last thing." Hermes looked at me. "She said to tell Percy: 'Remember the rivers.' And, um, something about staying away from her daughter."

"She's still on that?" Thalia asked mildly, clearly unimpressed.

Percy was blushing to hard to form an answer and Annabeth was smiling smugly how well that worked out to bother.

I'm not sure whose face was redder: Annabeth's or mine.

"I vote Percy's," Will said with a laugh as he watched them now.

"Doesn't count," Percy had a distinct wine in his voice. "She's not, now, and back then, I-" he felt like someone was yanking on his tongue as he kept swallowing a blush that wasn't shared, the traitor!

Annabeth just smiled indulgently at him and kept reading.

"Thank you, Hermes," Annabeth said. "And I . . . I wanted to say . . . I'm sorry about Luke."

As Annabeth had guessed, all previous enjoyment drained out of the room like Annabeth had perfectly installed and then pulled the plug.

The god's expression hardened like he'd turned to marble. "You should've left that subject alone."

"I don't think she's capable of that," Thalia muttered low enough only Percy heard, and he nodded and swallowed a snide comment of his own as his hands twitched. He wanted Annabeth's hand safely in his right now more. He could sense danger coming.

Annabeth stepped back nervously. "Sorry?"

"SORRY doesn't cut it!"

George and Martha curled around the caduceus, which shimmered and changed into something that looked suspiciously like a high-voltage cattle prod.

For some reason that one hadn't made the mention of their previous guesses of preferred weapons, though Alex had come close with the joshing comment of Godzilla sized bug zapper.

"You should've saved him when you had the chance," Hermes growled at Annabeth. "You're the only one who could have."

Percy might have switched into laser beam mode, as much as he hard focused on Annabeth. The water itself grew tense around them, as if holding all the oxygen hostage.

Annabeth didn't seem to notice. She did a terrible job of breezily reading over that as her lip trembled and one of her hands dropped from the book to wring nervously through a few curls of her hair as she kept going.

I tried to step between them. "What are you talking about? Annabeth didn't—"

"Don't defend her, Jackson!"

There were no jokes this time, though Jason bit his tongue down to stop himself from telling Percy that was three times Hermes had used his last name, which felt like a bad omen before this whole new death threat business got started.

Hermes turned the cattle prod toward me. "She knows exactly what I'm talking about."

"Maybe you should blame yourself!" I should've kept my mouth shut,

"I think that's the first time Percy's ever acknowledged that," Will was all about those helpful comments. "Progress."

"Maybe one day when he's got arthritis he'll learn to act on that thought first," Nico rolled his eyes.

"He once admitted to himself he should sow his mouth shut, something I'm still all to happy to help with," Alex reminded.

"I'd be actively considering it under other circumstances," Percy said with a leveled look at the book, no interpretation needed saying he'd rip out any stitches to keep that god's anger off Annabeth.

but all I could think about was turning his attention away from Annabeth. This whole time, he hadn't been angry with me. He'd been angry with her.

"That, is a very new experience for you Percy," Thalia sounded grudgingly impressed and slightly murderous of no one in here. "I don't even blame you not picking up on that."

"Thanks," Percy said with a wayward frown at her, his body wanting to throw him into overdrive and dive in front of Annabeth this second despite the fact she was ignoring the pair and trying to read over them as if this was as normal as his usual occurrences with other gods.

"Maybe if you hadn't abandoned Luke and his mom!"

Hermes raised his cattle prod. He began to grow until he was ten feet tall. I thought, Well, that's it.

"Those are the least most inspiring last words ever," Jason frowned at him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, now that I have some warning I'll write out a novel- oh wait!" Percy dragged his eyes away from Annabeth as he spoke to Jason with a massive eye-roll the ocean should be envious of.

But as he prepared to strike, George and Martha leaned in close and whispered something in his ear.

"Something?" Will yelped in protest. "We don't even get to hear the awe inspiring words that saved one of the greatest heroes of our time with the all mighty wise words of the snakes!"

"Who are you trying to impress?" Percy stared oddly at him.

"I genuinely want to know," he looked actually a little pouty. "Those could have been passed on to generations of impertinent demigods to stop them repeating your steps."

"I've found making your own path is better anyways, I've done better than Hercules repeatedly," Percy shrugged.

Hermes clenched his teeth. He lowered the cattle prod, and it turned back to a staff.

"Percy Jackson," he said, "because you have taken on the curse of Achilles, I must spare you. You are in the hands of the Fates now. But you will never speak to me like that again.

"That's all they said?" Will still looked like someone was dangling a candy bar above his head on a fishhook.

Percy shrugged again. "Don't know what to tell you man, guess if you want the next set of kids to live like me you'll have to push them in the Styx."

Will sighed and bit back a groan because he wasn't really sure how much Percy meant that.

You have no idea how much I have sacrificed, how much—"

His voice broke, and he shrank back to human size. "My son, my greatest pride . . . my poor May . . ."

He sounded so devastated I didn't know what to say. One minute he was ready to vaporize us. Now he looked like he needed a hug.

"The dichotomy of these gods really is, something," Magnus couldn't help but unintentionally mimic Will's exact tone on that word.

"I think it's Percy," Annabeth corrected, her voice only mildly trembling. She was pretty sure she'd never thanked him before for saving her life, but it was par for the course for the pair of them and she'd been in her own world, her own hurt during that. "I certainly didn't want to give him a hug."

She couldn't help her eyes flickering back to the text, wanting to know if Percy had wanted to hug her or yell at her for her part in Luke's life too, even if she did feel guilt for her cousin clearly wanting to chat about this more. Any other day of her life she would have been ecstatic to talk with him about this side of her life, but she needed this more. Percy needed this more.

"Look, Lord Hermes," I said.

"I always love it when you try to up the respect after they decide not to kill you," Alex's tone was a faint hint of sarcasm though showing he didn't really mean that.

"Hopefully they just remember the last thing I did rather than the whole eviscerating part," Percy shrugged.

"I'm sorry, but I need to know. What happened to May? She said something about Luke's fate, and her eyes—"

Hermes glared at me, and my voice faltered. The look on his face wasn't really anger, though. It was pain. Deep, incredible pain.

"Wow," Percy whispered under his thudding heartbeat. He couldn't help his mind instantly going to his dad, if that's the look that had been hiding under the surface when he'd said he was sorry Percy had been born. If, gods forbid, something had happened to his mom and he'd taken up Luke's mantel.

Hermes depicted himself nothing like the lord of the sea, but Percy still saw his power and sadness in the godly weight of those shoulders that all the gods must carry, whether they showed it or not. Hades had in his brief time speaking of Bianca, even Zeus whether he'd admit it or not had looked upon Thalia in their short time together with some mixed-up emotions.

The rule of the gods keeping their distance from their kids felt stupider the longer he watched.

"I will leave you now," he said tightly. "I have a war to fight."

He began to shine. I turned away and made sure Annabeth did the same, because she was still frozen in shock.

Annabeth's voice was still softened. Humbled and chagrined and tired and a million other things Percy couldn't imagine. He wished he could wrap his arms around her now and shield her face into his chest, feel her wide eyes and shaking breath warmer than that supernova of a god vanishing. Her unsteady heartbeat had been a more rocksteady hope even when he had no clue what to do about things with Luke, or even why it all mattered as the guy should be long dead in his own husk.

Good luck, Percy, Martha the snake whispered.

Hermes glowed with the light of a supernova. Then he was gone.

There was no last mentions of Geroge and rats and why Hermes would spare Percy except for some curse that shouldn't have stopped a god tossing him into outer space as a pile of dust. Percy felt an ugly feeling bubbling up in him, never far from his mind when the room got quiet and his memories of his life grew louder than the laughter of his friends. He didn't act on it. He knew he never could. He would not even look at the fork that had made Luke into Kronos's puppet.

He still wished he knew another way out of this anger, and just plain exhaustion of dealing with the godly side of his family.

Annabeth sat at the foot of her mother's throne and cried. I wanted to comfort her, but I wasn't sure how.

"A hug would be nice," she grumbled, more for herself than meaning to say it out loud.

Percy gave her a look all the same, he'd heard of course, as close as they were sitting.

His green eyes watched her, a sadness of confusion and uncertainty she'd never expected to see there that hurt as much as remembering all of her screw ups with Luke all over again.

Why did this keep happening to her? Why was everyone in her life destined to leave her or forget about her, or somehow both!

He shifted his weight around, his arms moved up with a hesitancy like he wanted to hug her now, but she sighed and kept reading. She didn't want him to do it because she'd told him to. His arms dropped back to his side as he slumped in his seat, but she'd swear she heard a sad sigh under his breath like he might regret not acting faster. Gods what she wouldn't give to be in his arms having to relive this.

What she wouldn't give up though was her patience. She'd wait for him to get there without hesitation, again. As long as it took.

"Annabeth," I said, "it's not your fault. I've never seen Hermes act that way. I guess . . . I don't know . . . he probably feels guilty about Luke. He's looking for somebody to blame. I don't know why he lashed out at you. You didn't do anything to deserve that."

"I could give you a pile of evidence this girl murdered someone and you wouldn't believe me," Nico grinned.

"That's called entrapment Nico and it's illegal," Percy said with all the confidence of one who had watched, like, two cop-drama shows. One was even based out of New York.

Annabeth wiped her eyes. She stared at the hearth like it was her own funeral pyre.

"I have a strict promise from my siblings about what my shroud should be and everything," Annabeth managed a dower joke, which Percy smiled at of course, but it was too sad to make her heart flutter like usual. He was just humoring her.

I shifted uneasily. "Um, you didn't, right?"

She didn't answer. Her Celestial bronze knife was strapped to her arm—the same knife I'd seen in Hestia's vision. All these years, I hadn't realized it was a gift from Luke. I'd asked her many times why she preferred to fight with a knife instead of a sword, and she'd never answered me. Now I knew.

"Now you knew why she didn't answer, not the oh so important distinction why she prefers a knife," Jason said with a concerned analyst smile on Annabeth like he hoped he could sweet-talk her into an answer. Percy was a little terrified he could too, so he cleared his throat and she reluctantly stayed on track.

"Percy," she said. "What did you mean about Luke's mother? Did you meet her?"

I nodded reluctantly. "Nico and I visited her. She was a little . . . different." I described May Castellan, and the weird moment when her eyes had started to glow and she talked about her son's fate.

Annabeth frowned. "That doesn't make sense.

"Which part?" Magnus gave her a confused brow. "What happened after Hermes showed up?"

Annabeth didn't answer. She gave him the sad-big-gray-eyes and he caved and instantly nodded back to the book to get her out of this subject he'd brought up.

But why were you visiting—" Her eyes widened. "Hermes said you bear the curse of Achilles. Hestia said the same thing. Did you . . . did you bathe in the River Styx?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Percy! Did you or not?"

"Who's changing the subject now," Alex sighed, completely on Magnus's side even if she couldn't begrudge Annabeth finally getting the option to share this in her own time.

"Me," Annabeth nodded without looking up.

"Um . . . maybe a little."

"Just a couple of toes, maybe his whole leg, hard to say." Nico nodded.

"I'd kill to see that actually, just him having to wield Riptide like an arc of pure destruction while having to be on his hands the whole time," Jason laughed.

"I'd just set a chimpanzee on my opponents at that point," Percy rolled his eyes at the pair.

I told her the story about Hades and Nico, and how I'd defeated an army of the dead. I left out the vision of her pulling me out of the river. I still didn't quite understand that part, and just thinking about it made me embarrassed.

Annabeth did blush faintly at that again, much to Percy's delight, and yet still looked around at him like she wanted to strangle him for not giving that detail. It really was like old times for him where he couldn't figure out anything she'd do next when it came to him, which was kind of refreshing.

She shook her head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

"I had no choice," I said. "It's the only way I can stand up to Luke."

"You mean . . . di immortales, of course! That's why Luke didn't die. He went to the Styx and . . . Oh no, Luke. What were you thinking?"

"So now you're worried about Luke again," I grumbled.

She stared at me like I'd just dropped from space. "What?"

"What expression is that exactly?" Thalia asked with mild interest. "I'd like to see your aliens are real face."

She gave a half-hearted scowl to her sister for mocking her right now, feeling very alone in her protective feelings of Luke she'd hope Thalia would give some consideration to instead of Percy mouthing a thanks at her sister.

"Forget it," I muttered. I wondered what Hermes had meant about Annabeth not saving Luke when she'd had the chance. Clearly, she wasn't telling me something. But at the moment I wasn't in the mood to ask. The last thing I wanted to hear about was more of her history with Luke.

"And we are finally at full levels of Percy ignoring the one bit of good advice a goddess has given him lately," Nico said quietly to Will.

"Yeah, but, I wouldn't push her either," Will sighed, and not because Annabeth scared the piss out of him too. She seemed fragile right now, on the ropes with everyone, even her own past. They were taking this at Percy's pace, but her's shouldn't be discounted either.

"The point is he didn't die in the Styx," I said. "Neither did I. Now I have to face him. We have to defend Olympus."

Annabeth was still studying my face, like she was trying to see differences since my swim in the Styx.

"Those old diplomas and dolls don't appear under his skin from time to time do they?" Magnus asked, mostly joking.

"I have my own hopes and dreams to flush away," Percy said for her.

"Mastery of toiletry and all, I have faith he'll get it done," Annabeth grinned, a sight for sore eyes after this monstrosity of a chapter, so Percy couldn't even get mad at her for now adding in to bringing up that horrendous joke repeatedly.

"I guess you're right. My mom mentioned—"

"Plan twenty-three."

She rummaged in her pack and pulled out Daedalus's laptop. The blue Delta symbol glowed on the top when she booted it up. She opened a few files and started to read.

"Here it is," she said. "Gods, we have a lot of work to do."

"And the usual amount of time to do it," Jason sighed. Just once he'd like to hear of Percy and Annabeth having all the time in the world on their hands to get a plan set up. It would make them unbeatable. Even when they did everything on the fly they were wild and unstoppable about it. He'd just like to hear more of their plans in detail before they inevitably went off the rails and went to 'Crazy Plan Time.'

"One of Daedalus's inventions?"

"A lot of inventions . . . dangerous ones. If my mother wants me to use this plan, she must think things are very bad." She looked at me. "What about her message to you: 'Remember the rivers'? What does that mean?"

I shook my head. As usual, I had no clue what the gods were telling me. Which rivers was I supposed to remember? The Styx? The Mississippi?

"Hopefully you're not on the wrong side of that Naide still," Alex offered. "I bet she'd still try and kick your ass if this mess gets anywhere near Texas."

Percy crossed his fingers and nodded in agreement.

Just then the Stoll brothers ran in to the throne room.

"You need to see this," Connor said. "Now."

"I really wonder what they would have done if their dad had still been in there. Invited him along or apologized for interrupting," Thalia said with interest.

"You're all insane for never knocking," Jason frowned. Every party mentioned had a tendency to barge in on gods that would decimate someone without blinking. It was a miracle Mr. D never had to any of them.

The blue lights in the sky had stopped, so at first I didn't understand what the problem was.

"One less visible problem always equals two bigger ones on the horizon," Alex nodded.

"Why can't Godzilla and mothera ever be on our side," Percy huffed.

The other campers had gathered in a small park at the edge of the mountain. They were clustered at the guardrail, looking down at Manhattan. The railing was lined with those tourist binoculars, where you could deposit one golden drachma and see the city. Campers were using every single one.

Magnus squinted in confusion at that. Who were those for? The gods could apparently just be anywhere they wanted, and all the minor gods and other deities running around up there probably didn't have much care to be spying a thousand feet below unless they'd dropped a squirrel from that height just to see where it landed.

I looked down at the city. I could see almost everything from here—the East River and the Hudson River carving the shape of Manhattan,

Percy's skin itched on the back of his neck. He scratched impatiently, feeling as usual his brain was trying to cook him alive for nothing. What the heck did he care about that being mentioned?

the grid of streets, the lights of skyscrapers, the dark stretch of Central Park in the north. Everything looked normal, but something was wrong. I felt it in my bones before I realized what it was.

"I don't . . . hear anything," Annabeth said.

That was the problem.

Even from this height, I should've heard the noise of the city—millions of people bustling around, thousands of cars and machines—the hum of a huge metropolis. You don't think about it when you live in New York, but it's always there. Even in the dead of night, New York is never silent.

But it was now.

"Wow," Alex said with a faint smile only she could manage. One who was suddenly struck with the idea of an actual apocalypse happening, and being curious rather than horrified at the implications of what else was going to come of it.

I felt like my best friend had suddenly dropped dead.

"No, Annabeth was still standing right next to you," Will assured in a honeyed voice.

"You're lucky I don't drop kick you off there when we get back," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you meant New York," Will gave an exaggerated nod of relief. "Yeah, okay, makes more sense."

"What did they do?" My voice sounded tight and angry. "What did they do to my city?"

I pushed Michael Yew away from the binoculars and took a look.

Will's smile wavered and Percy didn't notice, looking right back at the book with somehow even more murderous intent than he'd even just felt for a god threatening Annabeth. Gods did that hurt more than he'd expected it too. Was that going to be Percy's reaction when the bridge collapsed? Just pushing everyone who had been there aside from his mind and move on to the next fight?

In the streets below, traffic had stopped. Pedestrians were lying on the sidewalks, or curled up in doorways. There was no sign of violence, no wrecks, nothing like that. It was as if all the people in New York had simply decided to stop whatever they were doing and pass out.

"Is there, a city of sleep?" Magnus asked his usual dopey question, Alex couldn't help but grin.

"Not unless Rudyard Kipling's taken over," she reminded, causing Magnus to turn to her with renewed excitement for a book dissection they could both get into guilt-free when Percy's life was done being gutted in front of their eyes.

"Are they dead?" Silena asked in astonishment.

Ice coated my stomach. A line from the prophecy rang in my ears: And see the world in endless sleep.

I remembered Grover's story about meeting the god Morpheus in Central Park. You're lucky I'm saving my energy for the main event.

"Well then," Jason said in a tiny voice. "I guess this is a mildly better interpretation?"

"Now let's work on that reaping of blades just being a nasty paper cut and we'll be gold," Percy tried his hardest not to say with a shiver like ice wasn't creeping up his spine.

"Not dead," I said. "Morpheus has put the entire island of Manhattan to sleep. The invasion has started."

Annabeth somehow managed to say that in the same tone Percy once had, Will noted in admiration. The horror, of not downplaying this sucked with a capital f, and the power behind her voice, of determination that this was the tipping point in the scale. No more games, no more squabbling. This was going to end one way or the other, and it was not going to happen quietly.

"Should we, get to bed?" Thalia asked before she tried to take the book. Nico was still rubbing his eyes a little to often and Percy was still stretching and rubbing his neck, always in need of a nap.

"It's still to early," Percy protested. Gods they weren't even half done with this one and had dealt with more interruptions than any other with it being so late in the day. He'd lived long enough with that prophecy hanging over his head and wanted this over with!

"Yeah-" Nico meant to agree with Percy, but a yawn cut him off.

"We can finish tomorrow," Percy reluctantly corrected. He couldn't be frustrated with anyone but himself here, he knew he couldn't have made it through the rest of this without a nap, but it didn't make his agitation any less. He wanted to be through with this already.

Nobody argued the point with him, and he got up and shuffled out.

Annabeth only hesitated a moment before following.

When they got to the room Percy had been sleeping in, he turned to her without surprise and grinned. She smiled in relief and followed him in, side by side, so they could curl up on the floor again.

This time, she slept through the night.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

*A myth I'm surprised never got brought up in this series, it blew my mind when I found it. The following is my headcanon/interpretation though, when in the story Chiron actually died and became the Cenatur's constellation because it was un-healable Chimera venom on Hercuels' arrow he accidentally shot Chiron with.

** If you know why I referenced an amphisbaena specifically you get a cookie. If you need time to look it up and come back, you get a cookie as well for doing your due diligence.

[carol-effing-danvers]

Steve Rogers is a Monster

Yeah, that’s a hell of a title, isn’t it? Strap in, it only gets worse from here. 

(click here if you’d prefer to read this on AO3)

Forewarning, if you enjoyed the epilogue for Endgame, this particular essay is not for you - and no, I am not bashing the Steve/Peggy shippers, you are beautiful human beings who make the fandom brighter and I’m happy that at least someone in this fandom got the ending they wanted.

Additional warning: if you expect this to be another Civil War debate, you will also be disappointed. There has never been a measurement invented that can adequately describe how much I loathe the verbal dick measuring contest that seems to pass for human interaction between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in this franchise. It’s not funny or entertaining - it’s exhausting, uncomfortable, and frankly it’s rather lazy writing.

This is about the very specific way that the epilogue in Endgame completely changed the way the character of Steve Rogers can be interpreted, and I don’t just mean the very illogical and contradictory way that time travel is explained, both in the movie itself and the fact that the writers and directors have two completely different views on how that worked out. 

I mean that the choice made by Steve Rogers in the very last minutes of that movie alters the way I view each and every one of his actions starting from The First Avenger and that alteration is exactly what I want to talk about, because whether you view it as deserving or not, what Steve does at the conclusion of Endgame was the most selfish thing humanly possible. Time is a thief, but somehow Steve managed to steal even more than Time.

Side note here: I understand that I am a completely biased Stucky shipper, a friend to Barnes and Noble, a Starbucks aficionado - sorry. Anyway, I’ve always believed that Steve and Bucky were destined blah blah blah, but I was never expecting a Stucky ending. Disney wasn’t going to do that, and I knew that, I wasn’t bothered that Steve and Bucky weren’t doing the smoochies by the end. But Bucky’s facial expression during those last minutes was gut-wrenching. Like...I have no idea what kind of cues the script and directors gave him, but in the future, please don’t ask Sebastian Stan to look sad unless you want soul-crushing devastation. It’s not Seb’s fault, his features are just arranged that way - but the fact that the editing staff allowed Sam to be sad though elated to be entrusted with the Shield and Bucky looked like his soul was being physically torn out of his body was an… interesting choice. 

Other side note: if you’re writing about time travel, I’m begging y’all to get your facts straight. Or just don’t write about time travel. It almost always sounds better on paper than it does on screen and it means that you’ve opened doors to more questions than you’ve probably got the answers for. I know this was about trying to set up the idea of the multiverse, I get that, but there were better and less messy ways to do that, and I know that because I’ve done it before. @Marvel: Let me write you a six-way orgy you fucking cowards~

By going back in time, Steve robbed Peggy of the future that would have been hers - not only that, he’s robbed her of even the chance of making the choice between those futures, because you honestly could not tell me with a straight face that Steve told her the complete truth of what he had done and she would be okay with him alternating the very course of the future. It doesn’t help his case that he has a history of not disclosing truths that he knows will be painful or inconvenient for other people in his life.

He robbed his loved ones - Sam, Bucky, Wanda - of the years they would have spent with him. Sure, he ‘came back’ after Peggy passed away, but they are adults in the prime of youth who knew him sixty years ago in his own time and he is an old, old man who has lived an entire life completely separated from them. He is practically a stranger with a name they know, but a history that no longer belongs to any of them - not even his oldest friend. They have him back, but judging from his age, they’ll be lucky to get even ten more years with him. Assuming of course, that any of them can stand to speak to him - I certainly couldn’t blame them if they tell him to go to hell and take his dad jokes with him. 

Steve has stolen away their friend and dropped off an elderly and dying near-stranger in his place, and this is treated by the writing (and the majority of the acting) as a wild and unexpected but not tragic event. 

Is it really that unexpected, though?

I recall seeing a Game of Thrones essay on Daenerys across my dash (I’m sorry, love, I don’t recall who you are since it’s not a fandom I’m in, but if someone knows who wrote that, please post the link!) which detailed how her ending in the series was foreshadowed many times by her penchant for bloody killings and her habit of surrounding herself with her own fawning friends.

Months after reading that, I had the thought: though Steve is never really shown thinking about Peggy after Civil War, except in a few scattered scenes in Endgame, was this foreshadowed? Whether you believe that his actions are justified or not, what Steve does is still, in the end, selfish at its very heart, and Steve Rogers is not a selfish person. 

Oh no, my dear friends and readers. Because taking this action has solidified and clarified Steve Rogers as the biggest and most selfish asshole in this whole universe.

Steve does not do the right thing, Steve does the thing that will most make him feel better. The fact that this often happens to be the right thing in the end is more the result of happy coincidence than any special sort of moral authority that the man holds. 

Rescuing Bucky Barnes and his fellow captives in a prisoner of war camp from being experimented on by an insane Nazi eugenicist? That was not a moral stand, that was endangering himself, Peggy Carter, and Howard Stark because he couldn’t handle the reality of his best friend being killed in war.

Sacrificing himself by putting the Valkyrie down in the Arctic Circle? That was not about sparing human lives, that was about Steve seeing his friend die right in front of him and not being able to deal with the grief. There were ways he could’ve prevented the plane from killing people without killing himself.

Trying to make Bucky remember who he was? And later on, saving him from the government agencies who wanted to hunt him down? Although, arguably, that last one is also just good common sense - Steve was already shown that government agencies could and were corrupted by HYDRA and he’d also seen how dangerous the Winter Soldier could be when unleashed. 

Steve did, I think, truly believe that this was the right thing to do, but it was also about keeping his connection - his very last, since Peggy had descended into dementia caused by Alzheimer’s before she ultimately died - to a past that for him, was only months or years ago, rather than decades. In some ways, this is completely understandable - Bucky might be the very last person left alive who truly knows who the real Steve Rogers is, because the rest of these people only know Captain America and we are consistently shown through multiple movies how uncomfortable this makes him.

This gets...considerably less and less understandable as we are shown Steve’s growing relationships with Natasha, Sam, Wanda - even Sharon, though she barely gets any screen time and they share the most awkward kiss I’ve ever seen - and indeed, what might be the most uncomfortable kiss in cinema history.

Side Note 3: This is made even more awkward by the director’s choice to have two of Steve’s friends watching them the whole time - seriously, who even does that? Why would you make them do that? Only sociopaths make out with their friends staring at them like that. It’s so fucking creepy - and don’t even get me fucking started on the fact that she’s also apparently his own niece. AHHHHH!

But we are shown, over and over again, that Steve is capable of building close meaningful relationships with people in the present. They don’t know his whole history, but they do know Steve Rogers rather than Captain America and they care about him deeply. 

Side Note 4: Notice that I don’t count Tony Stark among those people - despite this strangely persistent narrative that the various writers and directors tried to sell to the audience, Tony and Steve were not friends. They were never friends. They were colleagues at best, but these were two men who neither liked nor understood each other very well, but had to work together. And sometimes that’s okay, too. (Oh dear, I just gave the Stony fans a fit too, didn’t I? Sorry, guys. Enemies to Lovers is a great trope, I support you!)

But let’s set aside Steve’s gross betrayal of the people who loved him. We’ll also ignore the question of whether the motive for these good actions has tainted the actions themselves. Because even without questioning these, the conclusion of this story arc still transforms Steve into the biggest monster this franchise has. 

The very fundamental way that the writers and directors can’t agree on how the time travel mechanics in their own story work mean that Steve has just done one of two things and they range from shady and very questionable to absolutely fucking horrific. 

The first, that he’s created his own alternate universe to exist in, is morally dubious at best. Even the people who support this theory and liked the ending seem to feel that it wasn’t necessarily a ten out of ten on the moral goodness spectrum. They’ll say things like ‘he deserved to have his happy ending’. Even that phrasing seems to acknowledge that doing this was the opposite of the right thing. It just considers doing the wrong thing as being justified rather than horrifying. 

But let’s examine this first idea for a minute - even this, the more innocent of the two implications, means that rather than really processing his grief or dealing with the repeated tragedies and losses that have occured in his life, even as he was running group therapy sessions and grief counseling, Steve Rogers chose to escape his current life by creating an alternate universe that specifically allows he himself to live out his own fucking fantasies of the way his life should have turned out. 

That, in case you are not aware, is wildly fucked up. I thought I was playing pretty fast and loose with Steve’s characterization when I turned him into an extremely polite serial killer but as it turns out, I clearly just wasn’t setting the bar high enough, because that’s somehow even more fucked up than being an undercover child soldier with a small sadistic streak. 

Hm, and now I feel I should have been more creative there...

The second, and even more horrifying option, is that this older Steve Rogers has been in this world the whole time, watching as things unfolded just as we’ve seen over the past decade, taking ‘the slow way’ through time. 

Side Note 5: I do kind of understand why you would do it this way, because that’s really cool and shocking when you say that! Until you think about it for longer than three seconds and suddenly you realize…

Everything that has happened here, every tragedy and downfall these people experienced, happened because Steve Rogers lived his happily ever after with his beautiful wife and did absolutely nothing to stop it. He got to fuck Peggy Carter and watched as his wife built an empire of intelligence networks, knowing that her efforts were completely in vain because her agency was rotten to the core and he never told her.

Every horrifying act committed by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD was permitted through Steve Rogers’ negligence. And that’s just the wider big-picture worldview, large and shocking, but not personal. 

What about the people that Steve claims to actually care about? 

This means that Steve lived his whole life in contentment with his wife and children while his best friend was physically and psychologically tortured for over seventy years and just...let that go. 

He allowed one friend to murder another in the nineties, when the Winter Soldier was sent after Howard and Maria Stark. Then their child was being advised by a greedy self-interested warmonger who paid terrorists to drag him off to be tortured and slaughtered, and Steve did nothing about that, either. 

Bruce Banner was exploited, experimented on, and made into a monster against his will in the failed pursuit of recreating what was done to Steve, resulting in billions of dollars in damage and dozens or even hundreds of lives lost, and Steve allowed that to happen, too. 

Like Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov was physically and psychologically tortured for others to use her as a living weapon - except that this was probably happening to her since early childhood, and a man her future self loved and trusted implicitly did nothing to save her from this upbringing. 

The Maximoff twins are shown to have not wealthy but loving parents who are murdered in front of them and they both endure days of laying in the rubble of their ruined apartment, wondering if the bomb in their living room would go off and kill them. Later, they are taken in by HYDRA, experimented on, and recruited as child soldiers to the cause when they show signs of having supernatural powers. They start a series of events that result in the destruction of a major city and the loss of what is probably thousands of lives. Pietro is murdered while trying to help the Avengers to stop this, and Wanda suffers the loss of the very last living person she loved. None of these things seem to have bothered Future Steve. 

Steve “I can’t sit on the sidelines when I see a situation go sideways” Rogers, planted himself on that fucking sideline and observed for nearly eighty years as friends, colleagues, and his own wife were lied to, brainwashed, tortured, vilified, and hunted down like animals.

And then there Steve Rogers himself - not the Endgame Steve Rogers, the Steve Rogers who brought down a Nazi plane and will lie beneath the ice for seventy years while everything he knows disappear (mostly) innocent of these horrors, the life he would’ve lived stolen from him by a stranger with his name and his face from another universe.

What I’m saying here is that if you consider this idea for any amount of time, it took Steve Rogers less than ten minutes to become the most evil and disturbing figure in the entire MCU, only (not really tho) contested by Thanos himself. 

Gross and poorly reasoned libertarian ethics aside, Thanos genuinely believes that he did what he did for the sake of the entire population. It’s made fairly explicitly clear that Steve didn’t do this for anyone but himself. 

Call me crazy, but if everyone you know needs to suffer and multiple planet-wide devestations have to happen in order for you to get your happy ending, you might be the bad guy. 

Maybe I’m just old-fashioned?