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thewintersoldierdisaster · 5 months ago

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a/n: fic for #13 on the 13th! i love mat and squeaks so much and the fact that you guys love them so much too just makes my heart expand like the grinch’s 🤍 they’re my favorites to write for and i hope you guys enjoy this one! so much more mat and squeaks to come 🥰

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of past miscarriages, mentions of fertility issues, anxiety, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy and all that goes along with it

summary: you and mat have an early christmas gift for talia (and inadvertently, the rest of the family too)

It’s way too early in the morning, cold and dark outside when Mat finds you in the bathroom, head in the toilet while you vomit. He gathers back your hair in a fist and brushes the stray wisps off your forehead. Otherwise, he’s quiet, just providing support for you.

You finish with one last dry heave and he holds your hand while you get shakily to your feet, leaning your free hand on the countertop. He keeps a hand solid on your lower back while fishing out a miniature bag of oyster crackers from a drawer in the vanity and sliding the Listerine bottle closer to you.

One swish of mouthwash and a few oyster crackers later, you’re feeling better. Not even close to perfect or normal, but better.

Mat opens his arms for you to step in and lean your cheek against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your upper back and yours loop to rest at his lower back. He’s warm and smells like the bergamont and lime Aesop soap bar in your shower and Tide laundry detergent, a little like animal crackers too, which is probably leftover from Talia waking up after he got home from Toronto the night before and making him come lay in her bed with her until she fell back asleep. Of course, Mat had fallen asleep in the too-small bed, the both of them snoring quietly when you left your bed to go find him.

“Lucky number thirteen,” he mumbles against the top of your head. His breath ruffles your hair and you snuggle closer to his chest. The worn fabric of his undershirt is soft against your cheek.

“And three days,” you reply, stomach flipping slightly. Whether it’s nausea or anxiety, you’re not sure. Likely a healthy combination of both.

“And three days,” Mat agrees. His hands rub circles over your back and you’re soothed enough that you could go back to sleep. Too bad you have a million things to do today, things to check off your list with only three days to go before Christmas.

“Maybe we should wait,” you say after a beat of comfortable silence. “Maybe we should wait for fourteen or fifteen weeks. It’s longer.”

It’s safer, you think but don’t say.

Thirteen weeks is longer than any of your past pregnancies too, other than Talia’s. But it still feels so early and so fragile. You’re trying so hard to be excited, and you are, but that excitement is tamped down by fear and anxiety.

Mat kisses the crown of your head. “Doctor said everything looked really good last week. And you’ve still got morning sickness, which you —“ He cuts himself off, but you know what he was going to say.

‘Which you didn’t with the last few’ - your symptoms had disappeared so early and you thought it was a blessing, that you weren’t vomiting every morning, that you weren’t as tired as you’d been with Talia. Turned out to be nightmare after nightmare.

But you nod against his chest, feeling grateful for the morning sickness that’s shown no sign of stopping, as long as it means a happy, healthy baby in just over six months. June can’t come soon enough.

“We can wait to tell T,” Mat continues, picking up as if he hadn’t stopped mid-sentence. “If you want. But Doctor Harmon said we were okay to start telling people and I think she’ll really like that Christmas present.”

At a delightfully hilarious five and a half, Talia’s been asking about a sibling pretty consistently for two or so years now. Especially after hanging around the team and seeing all the siblings in action. You know she’ll be thrilled for a baby brother or sister and that’s what worries you a little. If it goes badly, if it ends like the others, it’s not just yours and Mat’s heartbreak. It’s Talia’s too.

And you can handle your heartbreak, but you never want Talia to experience that.

“I can hear you thinking,” Mat chuckles, squeezing you closer to his chest. “I know you’re worried, I am too. But how can we let that perfectly wrapped present go to waste?”

His joke lands and you giggle, knowing the box hidden under your bed with Talia’s gift is wrapped with messy corners and too much tape, a Mat Barzal specialty. He’d insisted on wrapping the gift, “contributing to the process” since you were keeping the real present all bubble wrapped and safe in your womb.

“Okay, yes, yeah,” you repeat a few times, convincing yourself. “Let’s tell T and just…just enjoy the ride.”

Just enjoying the ride is something you’d worked really hard on in therapy the last few years, some days easier than others - the pile of ratty Moleskine journals hidden away in your closet full of your every thought from the past five years, good and bad. The newest one, coincidentally started on the day you’d gotten a positive pregnancy test, is already a quarter full of your up and down thoughts and scribbles.

“That’s my girl,” Mat’s hands cup your cheeks, tilting your face up so he can kiss you, even as you protest, reminding him of your vomit breath. He laughs as he kisses you anyway, mumbling, “minty,” against your mouth.

You shake your head at him, smiling. He squeezes your cheek and guides you back into the bedroom, flipping the light switch off. You settle on the bed, dragging a pillow into your lap and watch Mat start to get dressed even though it’s so early.

“I’ve got practice at 9:30,” he says, voice muffled as he pulls his undershirt over his head. You unashamedly watch his stomach muscles work, ogling his chest even though your libido is temporarily dead and buried. “We can wake T up and tell her before I go or we can do it when I get back.”

“When are you getting back?” You wrap a blanket around your shoulders, smothering a yawn in the fabric. A wave of exhaustion hits and you blink slowly. It’s too early for you to be awake on a normal day, but the extra pregnancy hormones have you both exhausted and unable to sleep. There’s no chance you’ll go back to bed, not when you have to finish getting the house ready for your Christmas guests.

Mat shrugs. “Depends. But probably around eleven, eleven thirty?”

He rummages through his drawers for a pair of sweats and you remind him that he has to go and pick up both sets of parents and Liana from the airport in the afternoon. “So maybe we should tell her now?” You chew at your thumbnail.

Fully dressed in casual athleisure for his drive to the practice rink, Mat nods and reaches over to pull your thumb away from your mouth. You scowl at him.

“I’ll go wake her up,” he laughs. “Even though she definitely could use some more sleep.”

You wave him off. “She’ll nap when you’re gone,” you reply. “Unless, of course, she wants to help me get the house ready.”

Mat raises an eyebrow at you, laughs, and heads down to Talia’s room. You grin at his retreating back and get up to rinse your mouth with Listerine again and give your teeth a good brush. You always feel gross after vomiting. Once you feel fresher and more awake, you change out of your sweaty pajamas and into a Christmas-appropriate dark green waffle knit lounge set. You feel much more human with real clothes on and you pat your stomach, a faint outward curve already forming between your hipbones.

This pregnancy is showing quicker than all the others, physical proof that you’re holding onto for your sanity.

“Mommy,” Talia’s whine precedes her and you smile automatically when you see Mat come back into your room with Talia curled up in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck and her dark curls are wild with bedhead. One leg of her cartoon Grinch patterned pajama bottoms is pushed halfway up her skinny calf and her arms are locked around Mat’s neck, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, bunching it between his shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” you reply quietly, reaching out your arms for her. Mat transfers her to your lap and she curls up like a little cat, her cheek squished against your breast. “Daddy woke you up, huh?”

You smooth back her hair, the soft scent of her watermelon L’Oreal Kids shampoo wafting up to your nose. The French braid you’d tied her hair into last night is a wreck and you know she’ll complain when you have to brush out the knots later. But right now she’s so soft and sweet with sleep, seeming much younger than her five and a half years. You trace the tip of your finger over the slope of her nose and she wrinkles it at your touch, face relaxing again almost instantly.

“He said I had a s’prise,” she mumbles, blinking up at you. “But Christmas isn’t today.”

“Nope,” you agree and the mattress dips when Mat sits down next to you. “Christmas is in three days, but Daddy and I do have a gift for you early.”

That perks her right up, predictably. Talia blinks like a little meerkat, scrambling to sit up on your lap. She looks over at Mat, who’s grinning widely, and then back up at you.

“A gift before Christmas?” She asks, her ‘s’ whistling a little from the space left behind from the front baby tooth she’d lost a few days ago. “How come?”

Mat pulls the box out from under the bed and places it on Talia’s lap. “Because it’s a special gift and we wanted to give it to you early, since you’ve been such an awesome kid all year,” Mat says and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. It reminds you that all of your fertility issues and miscarriages weren’t just hard on you, they were hard on Mat and he was a rock throughout everything, no matter what you threw at him emotionally. You reach out and squeeze his knee, giving him a small smile. He returns it with a wink.

Talia pokes her fingers into the corner of the wrapping paper, her sparkly nail polish catching in the light, and gives Mat an impish little smile. “Daddy wrapped this,” she says. “The corners are all wrinkly.”

You laugh at the roast and Mat’s jaw drops in fake outrage.

“They are not!” He yelps, reaching out to tickle Talia’s sides. She shrieks and wiggles, laughter echoing around the room.

“No! No, Daddy! Stop tickling!” She shrieks between gasping laughter and Mat relents, laughing too as he leans back into his spot. Talia’s hair is even messier, her cheeks flushed from laughter, and you can’t wait to have another one running around the house. A lump of emotion clogs your throat.

“I don’t like tickling,” she grumbles adorably and Mat apologies. Talia forgives him and pulls at the paper on her gift again. “Can I open now?”

You and Mat both nod and Talia wastes no time in ripping into the paper. Scraps go flying and Mat gathers them up, crumpling the paper in a ball that he tosses back and forth between his hands. Talia stops briefly when she sees the gift box and then tosses the lid off the side of the bed. You roll your eyes slightly at her dramatics, but then she’s pulling the sweater out of its tissue paper and laying it over your legs.

“What’s it say?” She cocks her head. Immediately, she recognizes the first word, “big,” and then starts sounding out the next, “si-sis-sister?”

You’re holding your breath while she sounds it out, your heart pounding when she wrinkles her nose and repeats, “big sister?”

Talia looks at you and then Mat, frowning while the wheels turn in her head. It takes a second and she repeats, “big sister? Me?” pointing at herself. Her eyebrows lift on her forehead.

Mat nods and you grin at her, “you’re going to be a big sister, love bug.”

It’s a surprise when Talia bursts into loud, hiccuping sobs and you’re caught unprepared. Tears stream down her face and she chokes for air, holding the sweater in a death grip, turning her knuckles white. Mat looks at you, wide-eyed and terrified of Talia’s reaction, until she wails, “I always wanted a baby!”

“Oh,” you cuddle her close, stroking her hair and letting her cry and snot all over your shirt. “Oh, my baby, I know. You’re overwhelmed. It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“I get a baby?” She asks and you nod even though she can’t see you. Tears well up in your eyes.

Mat’s hand rubs circles on her back and he’s whispering quietly to her, inaudible over the blood rushing in your ears.

“You’re going to have a sibling, love bug,” you say into her hair, choking on your own overwhelming emotion. “It’s really big news, right?”

Talia nods against you and you hear her blow her nose against your shirt. It’s gross, but you don’t mind.

She keeps wailing, crying happy tears and mumbling about how she always wanted a baby sibling like all of her friends. It cracks your heart and mends it all at once, knowing how long she’s waited and how happy she is to be finally getting a built-in best friend.

Tears drip down your cheeks and you feel Mat’s hand on your back, pulling you close. You and Talia are folded into Mat’s embrace, his palms cupping each of your heads to keep you close. Her cries settle down to a few sniffles and eventually she pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

Her big hazel eyes, Mat’s eyes, are red rimmed and still watery. You push damp strands of hair off her cheeks and kiss her forehead.

“I’m so happy, Mommy,” she says simply, lunging to throw her arms around your neck and squeeze you in a hug.

“I’m so happy too, TB,” you reply, the easiest and most honest words you’ve ever said.

Mat, never one to be left out, laughs and chimes in, “I bet you’re not as happy as me.” He kisses the top of Talia’s head, ruffling her hair. You can see a suspiciously wet shine to his eyes.

Talia leans from your lap to Mat’s, hugging his neck to tight it almost looks painful. “Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head. “I’m the happiest. I’m the happiest cause it’s my baby.”

“Hey,” you tickle her sides lightly, “it’s mine and Daddy’s baby too.”

She shrugs and grabs for her sweater again, yanking it on over her head. She pushes her hair out of her eyes with the backs of her hands, looking for all the world like an electrocuted mad scientist. “I’m gonna wear this forever and tell everyone I’m a big sister like Reese and Winnie,” she announces proudly, a huge missing-toothed smile splitting her face.

Her smile melts your heart and she starts rolling around on the bed, chanting “big sister, big sister,” to make you and Mat laugh.

You lean against Mat’s chest, his hands coming to rest on your stomach. He whispers in your ear, “I’m so glad we told her.”

“Me too,” you murmur back. Talia rolls back over to you and smooshes her face up against your stomach and Mat’s hands.

“My baby’s in there?” She asks and without waiting for an answer, kisses your stomach and says, “hi baby, I’m Talia. I’m your big sister and I love you.”

And that’s all it takes for your waterworks to start, tears flowing free and fast, to the point where Talia looks a little spooked and Mat has to shepard her downstairs for breakfast while you follow along a few minutes later, still sniffling and wiping at your eyes.

Mat serves you up a plate of pancakes, plain and no syrup to be easier on your stomach, and you kiss his cheek in return. He looks incredulous, “I make celebration pancakes and I only get a kiss on the cheek? Wow, Squeaks, wow.”

You roll your eyes at him and plant a dramatic, loud kiss on his lips, making Talia giggle over her own pancakes. There’s already a smudge of chocolate on her Big Sister sweater’s collar and you can’t help but smile.

Mat’s off to practice a little bit later and then it’s just you and Talia since school is already closed for the two-week break. She’s surprisingly clingy while you get the guest rooms ready for everyone, following at your heels with a handful of Calico Critters clutched in each palm.

She asks a million questions about the baby - when is it coming? Is it a boy or a girl? Is it gonna live in her room? Can we name it Sparky? (Late June, it’s going to be a surprise just like she was, it will live first in yours and Mat’s room and then will get its own room, and no. Definitely not.)

You flip through the pile of Christmas cards that have gone unopened for a few days, enjoying looking through the family pictures sent by all the wives and girlfriends you’ve made friends with throughout the years. A particularly cute family photo of Matthew Tkachuk, his wife, and their son makes you smile. Talia climbs up on a stool to look at the cards with you, pointing out each player that she knows and recognizes.

(“Mommy, did we send a card of me?” “Yes, baby, remember when you took a picture with us and Santa at Daddy’s work? We sent that one out.” “Oh, we should’ve sent the picture of me and Minnie at Disney ‘cause I looked real cute in that, Nana said so.”)

At some point, Talia dumps the Calico Critters back in their designated box and picks up her Bitty Baby, carrying it around and hugging it tightly. The sight makes you wobbly, praying silently that this is the baby that stays.

Mat comes home from practice, wet hair shoved under his Stadium Series beanie, and barely drops his keys before he’s swooping Talia up into his arms and blowing raspberries on her cheeks. He’s got a giddy energy that isn’t just from a good practice.

“Big sister, ready to head to the airport in a little bit?” He asks, gamely accepting the minor blow to the head from a plastic Bitty Baby leg.

“Yes!” Talia shouts. “Let’s go now!”

You chime in, “you’d be so early! There’s still about two hours until the planes land. That’s four episodes of Bluey,” you add, anticipating Talia’s next question.

She frowns, but shrugs and tells Mat, “Mommy said we can’t name my baby Sparky. I like Sparky.”

Mat grins at you and winks. To Talia, he says, “how about we work on it? There’s a long time to come up with a good name.”

You know Talia’s likely not going to give up on Sparky, but over the next hour she offers up Princess Jasmine, Tweety Bird, and Bingo as alternatives. Every time she refers to it as “my baby” though, you feel like you could cry again. Mat was right, telling her was a really good idea.

Until it comes time for them to leave for the airport and you have to tell her, gently but firmly, not to spill the beans. You zip up her jacket, hiding the words on the sweater she still refuses to take off. She’d even refused the option to put another sweater over it. This kid.

“But I wanna tell ‘em,” she whines, batting at the hat you try to pull over her head.

“We will tell everyone,” you assure her, winning the battle. The knit cap is snug over her ears, flattening her dark hair against her forehead. She looks adorably grumpy, a miniature replica of Mat. “But Mommy and Daddy want to surprise them with a Christmas present, okay? It’s our secret. Can you promise?”

Talia hums and bounces from foot to foot, considering. You cross your fingers that she gets it.

“I guess,” she relents, grabbing up a Princess Jasmine doll in one hand and an Aladdin doll in the other. Bitty Baby has been relegated to her crib for a nap that’s lasted more than an hour and you’re nearly jealous of a baby doll.

Mat appears in the front hall with his car keys jangling and a grin on his face. “Ready to go, TB?”

She bounces around, nodding and chanting “yes yes yes” in response to Mat’s question.

You giggle and pat her on the butt. “Save that energy for the game tomorrow,” you tease, getting to your feet and holding the door open. It’s starting to flurry a bit, the light flakes swirling in the air prettily. Mat kisses you quickly on his way out, nudging Talia between the shoulder blades to get her moving.

“Bye, Mommy!” She shouts, waving over her shoulder. “Bye, Baby Sparky!”

You wave at them, closing the door just after watching Mat swing Talia around before opening the car door for her to climb inside.

By some Christmas miracle, all three incoming flights - your parents from North Carolina, Mat’s parents from Vancouver, and Liana from London - were scheduled to land within ten minutes of each other, so Mat only had to make one trip to LaGuardia.

He glides the Defender easily into an open spot at the Arrivals curb, praying that the trip from baggage claim to the car doesn’t take everyone that long.

“Remember,” he turns around in his seat, lowering the volume on the Disney Princess medley soundtrack Talia had insisted on, “Baby Sparky is a secret. So don’t tell everyone okay?”

“Okay, but what if I just told LeeLee?” She says, not looking at Mat, but playing with her dolls. “And then you and Mommy can tell everyone else.”

“No,” Mat laughs, despite himself. “You can’t tell LeeLee. Don’t say anything, okay, Tals?”

Talia shrugs and agrees. “Okay, I won’t say anythin’ about Baby Sparky.”

Mat reaches his hand out for a high five and Talia slaps his palm enthusiastically. She makes Mat turn the music back up while they wait and sings happily along to ‘Part of Your World’ until Mat’s phone vibrates with a text and he grins.

“Take a look out the window, T,” he says, pointing towards the airport. “We’ve got some visitors.”

Talia shrieks happily, kicking her legs and waving wildly at her grandparents and aunt as the five of them come into sight. Liana waves wildly back, making a silly face for good measure.

Mat gets out of the car to help with the luggage, accepting a hug and kiss from both moms. Liana punches his arm and then gives him a one-armed hug before helping him with the luggage at the trunk. They both wave off the parents for their help and gesture for them to get in the car.

“Hi Nana and hi Pop and hi Grandma and hi Grandpa,” Talia chirps excitedly as they all get in the car, in one breath in the way only little kids can manage. She tilts her cheek up to get kisses from her grandmothers as they climb into the third row of the car.

“Hi Talia,” Nadia grins, tweaking her cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” your mom replies, cupping Talia’s chin between her thumb and index finger. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hey, TB,” Liana calls from the back of the car, hoisting her suitcase into the trunk. “No hellos for your favorite aunt?”

Talia wiggles around in her booster seat to wave at Liana. “LeeLee! Did you know I’m gonna be a big sister?” She shouts the question and Mat freezes.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, remaining extremely still as all five family members turn to look at him. He gives his mother an awkward grin. All three women are aware of the issues you’ve had in the past, he knows. Liana especially since you’d confided everything in her during her visits and on multiple phone calls. When you couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to Mat, he was just grateful that you had Liana at least to confide in.

“Mat?” Nadia prods him for a response.

“Yeah!” Talia continues, oblivious. “Mommy said we can’t name the baby Sparky, but I wanna call it Sparky anyway.”

“Oh my god!” Liana yelps, reaching out to shake Mat’s arm. “Seriously?” She does a little dance in place.

Mat nods, laughing a little. “Yeah, seriously. We told T this morning, but,” he shoots the kindergartener a playful glare, “she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”

Talia’s still oblivious, chattering happily to her grandfathers, both of whom have huge grins on their faces. The moms are wiping away tears in the third row, reaching over into the trunk to hug Mat awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you guys,” your mom sobs, overwhelmed.

Mat accepts the huge hug Liana forces on him and finishes getting the bags in the trunk, the honking already starting from other cars waiting at the curb.

Once everyone’s in the car, Liana wedged in the middle seat and already starting to entertain Talia, Mat lowers the music and whistles to get attention on him.

“Look, T wasn’t supposed to tell you guys about the baby,” he says, easing out into traffic. “We wanted to do something special on Christmas, so if you could all pretend that you know nothing, that would be very helpful.”

Your mom sighs from the third row. “It’s going to be so hard to pretend,” she tells Nadia, who agrees. They’d both been discussing a baby shower, which Mat definitely thinks is a little premature, but he can’t blame them for being excited. He’s beyond happy himself.

“I get that,” he replies. “I really do. But remember, I’ve got a fragile, hormonal pregnant wife and she really wanted to surprise you all. Please play along and ignore Talia.”

“Hey!” Talia pipes up, abandoning her doll to Liana’s lap. “It’s mean to ignore, Daddy!”

Mat catches her eye in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, TB. But you did promise Mommy not to mention the baby and here we are.”

Talia squints at him, scrunching her face up and making Liana laugh at the expression. She pouts and kicks at the back of Mat’s seat. “I was excited, Daddy! I was so excited I cried, ‘member?” She grumbles.

Liana tugs at one of her dark curls. “Yeah, she couldn’t help herself, Mat,” she teases. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, promise.”

There’s no doubt in Mat’s mind that the five adults in the car will absolutely ruin the surprise the second they get home, but he crosses his fingers and hopes anyway.

Traffic is light, surprisingly, and you’re waiting at the door when Mat pulls into the driveway less than two hours after he left. You wave as everyone piles out of the car, catching Talia in your arms when she runs up to you.

“Mommy! LeeLee said she brought me sou-soubeniers?” She yelps.

“Souvenirs,” you correct gently, helping her out of her jacket and frowning when you see the sweater you’d forgotten she was wearing. “Go wash your hands, baby.”

Talia scampers off and you hope that buys you a little time to get her changed before everyone sees.

Your parents and in-laws parade into the house, all four of them giving you extra tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Your dad murmurs that it’s good to see you and Mike gives you a wide smile, hugging you for a moment longer than usual.

Nadia cups your cheeks in her hands and just looks at you for a few seconds before shaking her head and pulling you back in for a second hug. Strange.

Something prickles at the back of your neck and when your mom greets you with watery eyes, you know exactly what happened.

Liana shoots you a delighted smirk, wrapping one arm around you in a hug as she passes. “Merry Christmas,” she beams, kissing your cheek.

Mat is last, dragging suitcases behind him and wearing a sheepish expression. You hold the door open for him and deadpan, “blabbermouth junior told everyone, didn’t she?”

“Literally the second they got in the car,” Mat admits. To his credit, he doesn’t try and lie.

“I should’ve known,” you laugh, following him into the house. Your mom already has Talia on her hip, Big Sister sweater proudly front and center as she demonstrates to the grandparents that she can read the words. They all look up guiltily at you and you just laugh more. “Spoilsport ruined the news,” you say, flattening your hand on your stomach, “but Baby Barzal should be here in June. God willing.”

The sudden cheer overwhelms you and gets you teary eyed again before you’re enveloped in a hug that nearly smothers you. Mat’s grinning at you from the safety of the fridge, until he gets accosted by the moms. He pats them on the back, laughing.

After the excitement of the news, you fall into your usual visit routine - changing out of airplane clothes and placing an order from the Italian place that everyone loves before settling into the den to catch up.

“I was going to give you guys these on Christmas,” you start the sentence before you disappear upstairs and return with three boxes in your arms. “But might as well do it now.”

Talia whips her head around, abandoning the bag of pretzels she’d dug out of the pantry and is sharing with your dad and Mike. “More presents? For me?” She asks, clambering over the arm of the couch to fall into Nadia’s lap and poke at the wrapped gift. “Oh, Mommy wrapped this. It’s so pretty. It event has a ribbon,” she chirps, stroking the velvet bow loops.

“Ooh,” Liana laughs at Mat, “burned by your own kid.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Mat rolls his eyes at his sister and when he’s sure Talia’s distracted, flips her off.

“Behave,” Nadia chastises, tone firm even though she’s smiling. Talia’s already pulling the paper away from the box in her lap and Nadia lets her continue.

You curl up against Mat’s side and watch everyone open their gifts - Polaroid shaped Christmas ornaments with the baby’s sonogram in the little photo spot, Coming Soon scrawled in cursive over the bottom of it.

It would’ve been nice to surprise everyone on Christmas morning, but there’s something even nicer about doing it now. With everyone relaxed and excited and able to really enjoy the moment without the chaos of presents and breakfast and stockings.

“Wait?” Talia squints at the sonogram. She pokes her finger against the black and white image. “Is that my baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum watching your mom explain exactly which blurry blob is the baby. “That’s the first ever picture of the baby.”

“Do I have a picture like that?” She asks, appropriating Nadia and Mike’s ornament for herself and lying across their laps while she studies the image.

Mat nods. “Tons of them,” he replies. “We can show you later, if you want.”

She hums distractedly and you let the grandparents take over for a bit, spoiling her and distracting her while you relax against Mat’s side, his hand snaking down to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His palm is warm and dry and his fingers draw absent shapes against your skin. He turns the fireplace on from his phone and the room gets cozier, full of noise and laughter and joy.

It’s the best start to Christmas week that you could’ve ever imagined.

And it turns out that everyone knowing about the baby early is a blessing in disguise, because your mom and Nadia don’t let you do a single thing the next day. They get breakfast ready for everyone and the dads get the sidewalks and cars clean from the few inches of snow that had fallen over night.

You try to help, but are shooed away to the couch to rest. Liana and Talia join you intermittently. Your baby curls up on your lap with her Bitty Baby, listening as Liana fills you in on her love life in code that goes over Talia’s head.

Mat’s gone most of the day for morning skate and is back for his pre-game nap before disappearing again around 3:30.

Talia insists on wearing her Big Sister sweater again, but the combined powers of Liana and your mom work to get her to put an Islanders jersey over it for the game. The adults are decked out in gear too and you go for comfort over style in an oversized henley and vest with leggings. Your nod to team spirit is your custom Islander Nikes.

Since the whole family is there and it’s the last game before the holiday break, Mat sprung for a suite and you’re grateful for it because you can relax and not have to worry about Talia slipping away.

Periodically, the other girls pop in to join you and as much as you try to keep her distracted, Talia announces your news to everyone that stops in, chirping, “I’m gonna be a big sister!” with a big, chocolate smudged grin and a few bunny hops.

You’ve never been excitedly screamed at and hugged in your entire life, a permanent grin making your face hurt by the time the second is halfway done.

Mat finishes the game with a trip to the penalty box, a goal, two assist, and the team wins. Maxine Nightingale fills the arena and Talia shimmies along to the chorus, cheering for Mat as he’s announced as the first star and skates over to chat with Shannon.

“Congrats on the win,” Shannon grins and Talia hangs over the glass, waving at Mat. You hold the back of her jersey in a tight fist, ignoring the way your stomach swoops with anxiety every time she lunges forward.

“Thanks, Shannon,” Mat’s face is larger than life on the screen and his smile is megawatt. “Feels really good to get the two points at home.”

Shannon laughs and nods, “I bet! And with these two points and the Ranger loss last night, the Islanders are heading into the holiday break at the top of the Metro. Just another thing to celebrate, right?”

“Oh yeah!” Mat’s lips curl up in a cock smirk that has your dormant sex drive sparking slightly. “A lot to celebrate this year,” he looks up at the suites and you swear he makes eye contact with you, his smile growing more genuine. “Just really glad to get the win with my family here.”

“I’m sure they’re all waiting to start the holiday celebrations with you, Merry Christmas, Mat,” Shannon smiles and the interview ends with Mat wishing her the same and heading off down the tunnel.

“Bye, Daddy!!!” Talia shouts out, waving.

You snatch her back from the glass and she pouts at you briefly before skipping over to Liana to mooch some M&M’s off of her.

“Are we heading home before Mat or did you want to see him?” You ask, sitting down on one of the couches outside the suite. A yawn catches in the back of your throat and your mom brushes her hand over the top of your head. You lean into her touch like a cat, warmed by her affection.

“Let us take you home, baby,” she replies. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” you assure her, passing Liana a baby wipe from your bag so she can wipe the chocolate off of Talia’s face. “T likes to see Mat after the games, so we can all meet him out at the garage and split into the two cars.”

“I wanna see Daddy and Uncle Bo and Noah,” Talia calls out, wriggling away from Liana and the baby wipe she’s wielding.

“Jesus, stay still TB, you’ve got a chocolate five o’clock shadow,” Liana laughs.

Mat is waiting for you downstairs, immediately scooping Talia up and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “My good luck charms!” He grins, hair damp.

“Daddy, where’s Noah?” Talia drapes herself over Mat’s shoulder, looking around for her favorite defenseman. “I wanna show him my sweater.”

“You already showed Alexa,” you remind her. “She’ll

show Noah the picture you posed for. And remember, you’re going to see everyone at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s Christmas Eve party tomorrow.”

Somehow you manage to get Talia in her car seat in Mat’s car, the rest of the Barzals going with Mat too and leaving you to drive home with your parents. Mat kisses your forehead before he gets into the driver’s seat of his car and tells you to be safe.

You nod and end up in the back seat of your own car when your dad insists on driving home. You’re grateful for it, honestly, slumping against the door and yawning. It’s been a long day and you’re definitely ready to head to bed.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom murmurs over the Christmas music playing on the radio. She has her arm extended behind her so she can hold your hand. “Make sure you take care of yourself and if you need me to come and help, say the word. Whatever you need, right, hon?” That last bit is directed at your dad and he nods in agreement, a man of few words.

“Thanks, mom,” you can’t help the waver to your voice. Quieter, you continue, “I’m scared.”

“Oh, my girl,” your mom turns around in her seat and gives you a soft smile. “It’s only natural, after everything you and Mat have been through. But I’m going to go light a candle tomorrow and you’re going to stay positive and in June you’ll have a beautiful new baby to love on.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes, your free hand splayed on your stomach. In your purse, your phone vibrates and you pull it out to find a text from Liana - a video of Talia in her car seat, singing the wrong lyrics to ‘All I Want for Christmas’ loudly and proudly. She’s totally off key, but she’s having the time of her life. Before the video ends, you can hear Mat in the background laughing and saying, “T, next year you can teach Baby Sparky the lyrics.”

Tears flood your eyes again and the reality continues to hit - this time next year you’ll have a second baby all geared up to celebrate their first Christmas.

You can’t wait.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal fic #nhl fic

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medievalharlot · 4 days ago

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Tag, You're It 彡 Michael x f!reader

Find my masterlist here!

Pairing: Michael x f!reader

Synopsis: Your annoying roommate turns out to not be as annoying as you expected once you warm up to him, a game of tag leaving the two of you sweaty and panting.

Wordcount: 2,6k

Tags: Smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap (reader is around 21), bisexual reader because I said so, manhandling, p in v sex, Michael is a bit of a perv, sexual tension, unprotected sex, a bit of dry humping, creampie

A/N: I am so down bad for Michael that it was just a matter of time before I posted sm about him. We are so back! Keep in mind I am not British, tried as best as I could to put some slang in there but if it doesn't make any sense please don't come for me. Enjoy!

It was your brother that had begged you to let Michael stay at your place for a little while. His girlfriend, who you later found out was pregnant, had broken up with him and he needed a place to stay. You knew Michael, he came over every once in a while when you lived at home, you knew he was a typical macho guy. It made you a bit unsure about letting him stay. Did you want somebody, let alone a man in his late twenties, in your private space? But your brother kept begging and begging, even offering money. You could use the extra income, being in your last year at university meant that every bit of extra money helped you pay the rent, and you had a free sofa bed so with slight hesitance you accepted. It would only be for a few weeks and you wouldn't be home most of the time anyway. It would be fine.

That same day Michael moved in. He only had two bags and a few shoes in a garbage bag with him. He looked a little out of place in your livingroom. You liked decorating your rooms with little trinkets and color and Michael, well Michael seemed like the kind of person to have just a table, a chair and a sofa in his livingroom. You prayed that you made the right choice by letting him stay. You had made his bed, made space in your bathroom for his stuff and finally tidied up the place. In a whirl wind you had cleaned your appartement to make sure you didn't come off as messy. Between your job and school you barely had any time to clean, it would be a mess in a few days again.

You were strict with him at first. This was your house, your home, so that meant your rules. No smoking inside, he had to help around the house, no drunken behaviour, help pay the bills, no leaving the toilet seat up, no dirty laundry on the floor and especially no sex in your apartment. The idea of him getting his juices or somebody else's juices on your couch made you wince in disgust. When you told Michael he laughed at first. Like he’ll let you decide that. He said it was unfair, you got to have your girlfriend over so he should get to have a ‘lady friend’ over every now and then too.

Ah yes, your girlfriend. Sera. You two met at university and fell head over heels in a matter of months. She was even more hesitant about you having a man in your house. The times she came to visit she side-eyed Michael the entire time, a distrustful look in her eyes. Often she would tell you to kick him out, he would mess up soon anyway.

Something inside of you told you, don't give up on him just yet. Give him a chance. That didn't mean you didn't get irritated at every single thing he did. Due to his job he had to get up early, usually the other bin men were already waiting for him, and he never failed to wake you up. When it was your turn to get up, it was the dirty teacup he left on the kitchen counter. He always told you he left it there for when he came back so he could have a second cup. Somehow, the cup was always still there when you went to cook dinner.

Other days it was the mess he left in your bathroom. Or the fact that he forgot to seperate the black clothing from the colored clothing. It were little things, but over time you could tell he really tried. One time he attempted to cook dinner when you ran late. He fixed your creaky door and painted your windowsill the color you had always wanted it to be. Those moments made you mind his company a little less.

You tolerated his presence at most, until one night you came stumbling home clearly upset. To your surprised Michael was home early on the couch with a beer, watching tv. That was the last thing you wanted, to have to explain why you were upset. You tried to dash past him to your room to silently cry it out.

“Oi.” He had stood up and grabbed you by your arm. Something was off, you never quietly passed him. There was always something you complained about. Michael didn’t mind tho. Even if you complained, you still helped him with his laundry, cooked him dinner and most importantly put a roof over his head. Besides, he thought it was cute in a way.

“What’s happened.” He asked you, his eyes filled with empathy. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your tears. Michael was the last person you wanted to tell Sera broke up with you, but those big brown eyes made it hard not to walk into his strong arms and feel the warmth of his broad chess.

“None of your business.” You bit back, pulling your arm out of his grip.

“It is if I have to hear you bawl all night.” With a swift move he stood infront of you, blocking your path to your room.

You ran a hand over your face as you flopped down on the couch. He looked at you, his hand in his sides, waiting for you to talk. “We broke up.” You eventually said.

He said down next to you, looking at you. “You and that judgy twat?” Quickly, you shot him a glare. He was right tho. It was one of the reason you broke up tho. Repeatedly having to defend Michael got on your nerves and Sera claimed you picked him over her. “Why?”

“She said I was always taking your side whenever we talked about you.” Michael perked up, you talked about him? “I just couldn’t stand it that she called you a useless, nuts-for-brains, idiot when she doesn’t even know you. And well, apparently she cheated too.” You looked away as you bit back more tears. “Claimed we were fucking as well, so she should be allowed to fuck someone else too.”

Michael looked at you with a slight shock, was he really that important to in your life that you broke up with someone because of him? “Well she’s a proper bitch anyway.” He said while leaning back.

“Michael, be nice.”

“What! She basically called you a slag and a cheater and broke up with you. I’d say that’s proper twat behaviour.” He laughed and shot his hands up in defeat. “If she doesn’t see that you’re an amazing girl to have than that’s her problem.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment. He meant it, genuinely, and you could tell he did. Michael wasn’t the person to be dishonest.

“Atleast it’s better than my situation. My ex is pregnant with my baby and broke up with me.” Michael confessed, it wasn’t the full story but you didn’t need to know about that.

“Really, that’s fucked up.” You looked up at him. “You got a cig?”

“Since when do you smoke?” Michael laughed and got up to go outside with you. You pulled him down by his shirt.

“It’s freezing out.” You spoke as he sat down again. He shook his head, reaching for his cigarettes.

“Making me break your very strict rules, lost your mind Y/N?”

That night the two of you shared stories over a few beers and a few cigarettes, somehow you ended up with your head against his shoulder and his arm around you. Something had changed after that, you could almost say you had become the best of budies. You could feel yourself feeling less irritated around him, his stupid cup of tea was filled after Michael got back from his job. He noticed that you started baking for him, every week you shoved a new pastry into his mouth. His guess was that it was your way of showing you cared.

You tried ignoring how he made you feel. It was just innocent butterflies at first. The subtle wink he gave you as he made a joke whenever your brother came over to check in or when he tried folding your towels but ended up just leaving them a mess. They made your cheeks heat up and your stomach do somersaults.

Then, the butterflies turned into desperation and desire. He turned you on like nobody had ever before. You never thought a bin man with a messy love life could make you have the hots that bad, you always assumed you went for people that were smart, with a stable factor to them. Yet you couldn’t help stare as he licked a paper to roll his cigarette, wishing it were you instead. Or when he placed his hand on the small of your back when he passed you in your small kitchen. The way you could feel basically every curve of his dick against your ass when he did made your cunt clench around nothing.

Little did you know he felt the exact same way even before you broke up with your girlfriend. It would be a lie if he said he hasn’t wanked off to the polaroids on your walls. After nearly every shower he went in to sniff your towel, the smell of your soap stirring his cock. Oh how badly he wanted to knead at your thighs, softly sucking your tit while fucking into you, it was like a timebomb ticking to explode any moment..

You had just gotten back home, it was still freezing outside. Michael had already heared you come in, not that he bothered to get up. He leaned his head slightly back so he could see you in the tiny hallway. “How was uni?” He asked.

“It was fine, some freshers decided to interrupt Johnson’s class so we had to stay a little longer. Stupid brats.” You mumbled as you took of your coat and shoes. Michael watched you walk into the apartment. A smirk appeared on your face. The two of you started to play tag somewhere a few weeks ago and the game was still going. You happened to be ‘it’ and seeing Michael sit around made you think he would never expect to be tagged now.

You innocently walked behind the sofa, softly tapping his shoulder. “Tag, you’re it.” Before you even finished your words you took a little sprint across the room. Michael, being in a playfull mood, got up and started chasing after you. To your frustration you had driven yourself into a corner and were now being picked up and thrown over his shoulder by him.

This wasn’t the first time Michael manhandled you. He was a strong lad, he could throw you into to the air and move you around like you weighed nothing. Something about him manhandling you was hot, so you didn’t actually mind all that much, even if you pretended to hate it. You slammed your fist against his back, laughing. “Let me go you big ol’ bully!” A squeal left your lips as he threw you onto your bed.

He stood at the foot of the bed as you laid there, you watched him from inbetween your legs. It dawned on the both of you how sexual this looked. Michael didn’t intend that, but damn it made his dick rockhard seeing you there infront of him. His hands found your thigh, watching you intently to see if you were okay with this.

Your eyes followed his hand as he softly gave your flesh a squeeze. His hands were hot, calloused, rough. You wanted them to never leave your body. With a small wiggle you moved down on the bed, your hips almost met now. His eyes met yours, they were basically begging for permission. With your small nod he moved his hips forward, making them connect with yours.

A small whimper left your lips as you felt his boner against your clothed core. Michael leaned forward, his lips finding your neck as he softly sucked on the skin while writhing his dick against you. “Need this.” He mumbled between butterfly kisses and nips, hands were playing with the waistband of your panties. “These gotta come off love.”

For a moment he stood up straight again, his hands on your knees as he watched you once more. You took the moment to sneak off your jeans, your panties weren’t anything special. Sera was your first partner and she didn’t care much for fancy lace. To Michael it was endearing to see your striped knickers and he couldn’t wait to tear them off.

His hand softly brushed against your belly, lifting your sweater to see your breasts. Lucky him, you had decided not to wear a bra that day. Your nipples hardened at the cool air touching your skin.

“Such a beauty.” Michael whispers softly with a smirk as he looked down at you. Without waiting another moment he took off his shirt and unzipped his jeans so it hung slightly below his hips. Michael was quite buff, the daily hustling of the bins leaving him slightly toned. Yet you liked that he was just a tad chubby, it gave him a nice ass.

“I want you Michael.” You looked at him with pleading eyes. How could he deny you? He pulled his boxers down, his dick springing free. He had quite some length to him, but it was mostly the girth that surprised you.

“You know, staring is rude.” He broke your daze as he spit in his hand to give himself some lubricant. Not that you needed much, you were slicker than a seal from just seeing that. Michael took hold of your thigh again, pulling you just a bit closer. You could feel the head of his cock leaking against your slit. “You on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” With a thrust of his hips and a deep groan he slit himself inside of you. Michael leaned forward with his hands planted besides your head, a lose curl falling from his slicked back hair. God, you were tight and warm. “Jesus. Love, you’re gonna kill me.” It was a bit of a painful adjustment for you, but he waited for you to be comfortable.

As soon as you told him you were fine he started moving his hips. With each trust you tried to bite back your moans, didn’t want the neighbours to hear what you and your roommate were up to. His pace was slow, he didn’t like the idea of pounding into you. He wanted to take his sweet ass time fucking you.

Slowly, his calloused thumb rubbed circles on your clit as he fucked into you. He was coaching those moans and whimpers out of you. “You like that?” He teased you as he moved his thumb, receiving a whine in return. “I think you do..”

“Gonna cum..” You managed to mewl a little louder than you wanted. While gripping his forearms you felt your climax wash over you.

“Just a little longer.” Michael told you. With the way you clenched around him he was gonna cum any minute now. He needed a few more thrust before he burst inside of you, your sensetive pussy now filled with his seed.

When he finally pulled out, he looked down at your cunt. It was slightly leaking, both your juices mixed together. “Now that is a lovely view.” He chuckled, slapping the side of your thigh before looking at you with a smirk.

“Guess I broke your most important rule hmm?”

#joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #michael hoard #michael hoard x reader #michael hoard x fem!reader #michael hoard x you #joseph quinn x you #hoard movie #hoard michael #hoard #hoard film

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idksomethinggay · 3 months ago

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Jason was still on edge from his encounter with Bruce. Bruce took the identity reveal as well as expected. The window of the safe house was open. Jason pulls out his gun, scanning the apartment for the intruder. Everything is the same…except the tv has a PlayStation attached. There is a pizza box on the counter. The dishes were washed and drying. The toilet flushes followed by a door opening. Jason aims his gun.

Dick: Oh great your home.

Jason (sigh): Get out before I shoot.

Dick: Do you want to shower before gaming?

Jason (lowing his gun): What are you doing here?

Dick (walked past Jason): I washed your one tower and the rest of your clothes. I left some sweats for you in the bathroom. We should go shopping tomorrow, you need at least two towels.

Jason: Wait you did laundry?

Dick (flopping on the couch): I know how to wash clothes thank you. I’m an adult.

Jason: that wasn’t what surprised me.

Dick (pointing to the pizza box he just walked passed): Can you pass me a slice?

Jason (passing him the box): Did Bruce send you?

Dick (month full of pizza): Nah. He is still at the manor brooding. At least last time Tim updated me.

Jason: You aren’t here to convince to stop killing? You aren’t here to “take me in”.

Dick (while eating another slice): Take you in for what? Trying to kill the joker? That would be pretty hypocritical of me. I beat him to death. Bruce brought him back. And for the other people, I trust your judgment, if you say they deserved it, then they did.

Jason: You aren’t mad? You don’t think I’m a monster or a criminal that needs to be stopped?

Dick (getting up from the couch and walking up to Jason): You are my brother. I would love you no matter what.

Jason (tearing up): You mean it?

Dick: Of course. Now go shower because you stink. We are going to play Mario and eat so much junk food. Then tomorrow I’ll help you set up your apartment properly. I’m thinking a target run with Bruce’s credit card.

Jason: Get the game on. I’ll be back in 15. You are going to have to tell me about this new brother of ours.

#batfam #batman #dc comics #batman headcanon #dick grayson #batfamily #jason todd #tim drake #onlyingotham #fanfic

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cas-readsandwrites · 6 months ago

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Lavender: Interludes

Set in Jackson post TLOU S1 in the Lavender universe by @justagalwhowrites, a few little scenes of Joel, Doc, and the fam in Jackson. Listen I am not pregnant, I have no desire to be pregnant, so I don't know WHERE this came from, but I love soft Joel healing from his trauma and finding love and joy in his family! Content: Reader is described as pregnant. There is smut. And fluff. And love. Grab some ice cream and your heating pads if you're in the same time of the month as me. Minors DNI. 3.6k words

I am not quiet about the fact that Lavender is one of my favorite fanfics, in my two decades popping in and out of various fandoms. Doc and Joel are my distraction and angst and comfort when I need it. Sometimes my imagination runs a little wild.... many many thanks to Kit for creating these characters and being totally cool with the fact that I wrote a little fanfic of her fanfic :D So here we go!

~~~

Joel had walked into the house late one evening, after patrol had gone long and he had to wait to give report to the next crew going out. He was extra antsy and wanted to get home, now more than ever. This was his last patrol for the next several months, as he would not need to leave the walls of the town during the last month of your pregnancy and hopefully not for a month or two afterwards. He would be put on extra shifts on guard duty or with the carpenter crew, but as long as he was within a quick run down the street or an ear-shot of someone yelling for him with news of you, he was fine with that.

Anyway, when he had come home, you had been standing in the middle of the living room, seemingly all the sheets and blankets from the house around you and stacked in a laundry basket at the bottom of the stairs. All of the glasses and mugs were sitting out drying on the counter, as well as the few baby bottles you had brought home from the clinic (just in case you had said, hopeful that you would be able to breastfeed). All of the lights were still on upstairs.

“Baby,” he said, matter-of-factly, “what the hell are you doin’?”

You spun around, holding a fitted sheet in your hands, fresh from the laundry line outside. The town was encouraged to use the communal laundry whenever possible, to limit wear and tear on the machines in the houses, but understandably many families had middle-of-the-night unexpected messes or heavy loads that they would do at home if the mechanicals still worked. The dryer in their house was still inconsistent, as much as Joel took it apart and banged on it and put it back together, it gave them a few good spins before shuddering to a halt again. Thankfully Tommy and Maria’s across the street was still functional, adding to the growing list of ways that he felt like he was in… well, a commune, with his brother as their lives and households continually overlapped, something he suspected would only increase after the baby was born.

“I think I’m nesting,” you answered back, looking around at the piles of fabric and wiggling your fingers in the sheets. “It seemed like a good idea to have all the linens clean, and then I was hand-washing some things in the kitchen, so it seemed like a good idea to clean off some of the dishes and things we haven’t really used, they were kind of dusty and I didn’t want it getting in the bottles…” you trailed off and sighed. “Ok, it looks ridiculous, but trust me, it needed to be done!”

Joel wasn’t about to fight you on that, as much as he worried about your health and safety in what he viewed as an extra-fragile state, it seemed like you had come even more alive with an extra vivacity throughout your pregnancy. Even when you were throwing up, or cranky with hormones, you were even more feisty. Which was saying something, considering all the times you had verbally sparred back in Boston, along the road to Jackson, even back when you were taking care of yourself and your grandmother all alone. “Ok, well… can I help you?” he asked. “Seems like you got it in hand, but please don’t tell me you’ve been carrying laundry around all day.”

You waved your hands again, corners of the sheet scrunching around your fingers. “Ellie put up with me for a while and did the heavy lifting with the wet things. She wanted to go out for the evening, though, so it’s just been me and the folded piles tonight.” You looked around as you tucked the corners across and into each other, neatly snapping the sheet and folding the edges in. “I guess if you can take these all back up into the closet upstairs, then it will be mostly done.”

You looked around at the folded pile in the basket, mentally cataloguing your task, before seeming to snap out of it and look back at him. “But you just got home! I’m so sorry, blame my brain for being wired towards this.” You waded through the piles and threw yourself into his arms, even with your stomach grown with his baby, still fitting in just right where he could wrap around your shoulders and your back and you could lean into that space against his chest. Joel ran his hand up and down your back, around your side, warm palm against the place where your child grew. You hummed as he kissed the top of your head, centering himself as he always did when coming home on your scent and the warm gravity of you in his arms.

“Why don’t you go up to bed?” he murmured against your temple. “I’ll get the rest of this. You’ve been on your feet a lot. Please go lay down? I’d love to just… be with you tonight.” You nodded, tipping your head back to kiss him. He anchored himself to you, the press of your lips against his.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you said, squeezing him again before stepping away and looking around at the living room before walking upstairs.

They had been in this house for several months, well-established in Jackson, but he couldn’t shake the nighttime routines yet, circling the first floor of the house, checking that the exits were clear, locked, lights off, locking his rifle in the downstairs closet, keeping his sidearm in the nightstand next to his side of the bed. He heard you moving around the bathroom and treading the hallway into the bedroom. Thankfully, Ellie came home not too soon after as he was finished folding. She shrugged and tilted her head with an eyebrow raised in a nonverbal I don’t know, man, it wasn’t my idea. He handed her the basket and wordlessly gestured up the stairs. She just as silently tilted her forehead against his arm as she passed in a greeting and good-night, and they trooped up the stairs together. “Good night, Ellie!” he heard you call across the hall.

He showered, washing off the road and sweat, before climbing in bed behind you, already nested in your structure of pillows. “Mmmf,” you murmured, nestling back into his chest. He traced the line of the back of your neck with one hand and looped his arm around your front, resting on your stomach. You traced the back of his hand with your fingers in the dark. It didn’t seem to take much, even at this stage in your pregnancy, and soon you were bringing his hand below the slope of your stomach to that place between your legs that seemed so much more sensitive nowadays.

“Baby,” he murmured in your ear, “you gonna be ok? Don’t want to hurt you…”

You moaned quietly as his fingertips traced your clit, leading down to your center, tracing your entrance and just dipping inside. You gasped and tilted your hips, moving your leg to open that space for him. “Please, Joel,” you breathed, trying to be quiet, mindful of Ellie down the hall. “I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me, I want to feel you, please…”

He kissed the space below your ear, the scratch of his beard tickling the back of your shoulder. “Don’t gotta beg for me, sweetheart, always gonna give you what you need.”

Urged by your own hand, he felt the wetness from your entrance already, dipping his fingers in to coat them, coming back to your clit, warm and aching. It didn’t take long for the pressure from his fingers, alternating between circling and lightly pressing on your sensitive areas, before he felt you throbbing, heard your tiny gasps as you tugged on the corner of your pillow, thrusting your hips back into his as he brought you to your edge. Even after months of your reassurance that you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, had never done so, and you still obviously wanted him, he waited for your cues. He tried to ignore his hardening cock, but your thrust backwards had nestled him into the soft flesh of your ass, so warm and delightfully more from pregnancy, and he couldn't help as he rocked against you. Even as you came down, you pushed his hand back towards your center, hitching your top leg up to rest on his, reaching behind for his hip, holding him close.

He ran his hand down your leg, gripping your thigh against him as he moved to push himself against you, the heat and wetness from your center drawing him in. He lined the tip of him with your center, your body grasping to pull him in, as if promises over decades and the proof of your love growing inside you weren’t enough. He stopped only long enough to ask, “this ok, baby? You feel alright?”

You whimpered, tilting your head back towards him, and he ran his nose along what he could reach of your jaw, kissing the side of your neck, breathing against the edge of your ear. “Feels so good, please, don’t stop,” you whispered, rocking just so the tip of him slid in. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of you around him, pressed against him, as he slid inside you from behind. You bit your lip to stop from crying out, rocking back into him with abandon. He had to focus to stop from coming immediately - how could he not, the softness of the most round, plush parts of you pressed against his body and in his hands, your warmth even more enveloping. He focused instead on the lines of your body, kissing your shoulder, gripping your hip as he thrust in and out, syncing with the rocking of your hips. His hand slipped around your front to the top of your legs again, circling and rubbing against your clit. You were so lost in your pleasure, grasping at the blanket in front of you, and he wanted this to last as long as you needed. Unable to see your face or kiss you, giving himself into your body wherever you would take him, he used his words instead, punctuated by his own groans and pleasure. Words of praise and promise, your beauty, the sensation of your body, goddess that you were, holding both himself and your child together deep inside yourself.

-finally, “oh, fuck, there you go baby, I can feel you, so ready, come on-” and you turned your face down into your pillow, breathing heavily, as your body fairly shook with your orgasm, clenching and rippling around him, and he held on tight and rode it out with you, thrusting up once, twice, one more time until he felt himself come apart deeply and at home in your body.

The two of you lay together in the tangle of blankets and blankets, now kicked down around your legs and askew around you, his chest heaving with deep breaths against yours. He felt you melt into the mattress. After a moment he checked himself, not wanting you to need to move, and cautiously lifted an arm to brace himself against the mattress. You made a little noise and tilted your head back against him again. He reach in front of you and sat partway up, leaning over you to kiss you at an angle, reassuring you, and himself that you were still alright, that he hadn’t hurt you or pushed you too much in some way that he would have no way of knowing about, his memories of the only other pregnant woman in his life so far distant and embroiled in its own tinge of sadness and self-doubt that none of it was to be trusted. Only you, here, your daughter for all intents and purposes down the hall, the solidity of this house, was what he could count on.

He kissed you again and nuzzled against your forehead. “Lay down, baby, I got you. Need anything?” he felt you shake your head and settled against your pillow. He smiled. You often had a hard time falling asleep and staying asleep as you advanced in your pregnancy, but something about the release of sex would turn you into goo and put you to sleep afterwards almost right away.

He carefully sat all the way up, leaning over you to reset your pillows where you liked them, against the pressure of your knees, hips and belly supported against the mattress, under your arm, one against the small of your back. When you were tucked in and covered, he quietly stepped down the hall to fill your glass of water and set it down next to you, checking again the lights outside and the door to Ellie’s room, before sliding carefully back in behind you. Not able to get as close through your fortress of pillows, he rested an arm along your hip, breathing in the scent of your hair that always seemed to end up draped across his pillow.

He heard you sigh and shuffle, and was about to ask what else you needed, before you spoke quietly, through the cloud of sleep he knew was almost ready to carry you off. “I love you,” you murmured into the soft darkness of the bedroom. He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead on the space between your shoulderblades, just behind your heart. “Love you so much, baby,” he whispered, squeezing your hip, before sleep claimed you both.

~~~

Joel and Tommy watched as you and Maria talked in the living room of Tommy and Maria’s house after dinner, while they stood in the doorway of the kitchen drinking whiskey, judiciously keeping the scent of alcohol away from your pregnant self and Maria’s breastfeeding. Well, Tommy was watching Joel as Joel watched you shuffle on the couch, gently positioning yourself to rest your lower back. “She doin’ ok?” Tommy asked, trying to catch Joel’s eye.

Joel glanced over at his brother like he was unaware they were even in a conversation together. “Oh- yeah. She said her legs and back are starting to get real tired. Tried telling her to rest more, but you know her, says moving is actually better and she doesn’t want to leave the clinic yet.”

Tommy nodded, knowing this brand of his sister-in-law’s stubbornness and resilient streak. “You ever try doin’ the thing where you stand behind her and lift up her stomach?”

Now Joel was really looking at his brother. “What?” he asked. They didn’t really… talk girls. Joel did his best when Tommy was growing up to have The Talk (that went pretty well, living embodiment of the consequences of Joel’s actions usually screaming in her high chair in the background of those conversations when Tommy would be headed out the door to pick up yet another date) as well as trying to make sure his brother was generally a respectful and polite person to a partner, but other than that, they didn’t really talk about the ins and outs of each other’s relationships. Until you. Even way back when, yours and Joel’s relationship had been more real, more recognized, tangible, than most other things in his life.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, “you know, like you’re gonna hug her from behind or somethin?” He demonstrated in the air in front of him. “Get your arms around her and under her stomach, towards the bottom, where Maria always said was the most sore because it was heavy, stretching out some muscles, and just-” he linked his fingers together, glass carefully balanced in one bear-paw of a hand- “hup.” He demonstrated gently lifting a beach ball in front of him.

Joel watched his brother looking like he was trying to hula hoop in the middle of his kitchen. “Sure it doesn’t hurt her?” Tommy laughed and patted his brother on his arm. “Be gentle, man. Naw, Maria loved it. Would have walked around behind her for the whole last month for her if I could’ve.” Joel nodded, regretting already the time he missed in his brother’s life, refusing to accept his new marriage to Maria, blocking out the thoughts of his brother becoming a father, when all his brother had done for him was to step into Joel’s own life and take on Joel’s burdens as his own. By the time Joel and his girls had made it back to Jackson, several months had passed and Maria had already given birth.

Tommy patted his arm again. “She knows you’d do anything for her. Maria and I will, too. Need a babysitter or an extra hand when it’s time, just holler.” He gestured with his glass towards their window that overlooked the street, across which your home with Joel was softly illuminated by the front door light, waiting for you to come home. You caught Tommy’s movement out of the corner of your eye, looking up and smiling at your husband and your brother-in-law together again, as they should be.

The next day, you were walking slowly around the house while getting ready for a shift at the clinic. You were still the only doctor in town, though they had gained a few additional staff that, while not quite trained as well as you’d hoped nurses would be, were improving as medical assistants and able to triage and take histories and help with physical exams. One of the more senior nurses who had been in town for a while had taken on the heavier medical work before you had arrived. She had taken to your education and you had recently “graduated” her from your unofficial training and dubbed her a nurse practitioner, only needing to sign off with you on certain types of cases. The extra help meant that at least you could sit more and slow your pace to see a few less patients, but for now you said your brain and your energy were fine, and you weren’t going to let a few bodyaches get in the way of being present for the people who needed the knowledge that only you had.

Joel watched as you stood in front of your dresser, choosing which top to go over your precious few pairs of pants they had found to be modified with a maternity band. You sighed and rested your hands on the small of your back, leaning just so, trying to stretch - well, everything.

Joel begrudgingly remembered his brother’s words, knowing he was going to be eating shit for a while, Tommy being more of an expert in the “pregnancy and infancy caregiver in the apocalypse” duties. Joel still had him beat in the teenager department at least. For now, though, he walked up behind you to kiss your temple, slipping his arms around you as he often did to trace the contours of your body, holding your hips or placing a palm to feel the baby.

“Wish you would call it at the clinic, baby, I really do,” he murmured.

“I know,” you sighed, “not yet, though. My mind feels fine. I’m taking it as easy as I can there, I promise, and you know I’m in the right place if I need anything.” You looked down at his hands gently circling your stomach. “I know by now it’s useless to ask you to not worry, but please, take it easy on yourself, too,” you said, placing your hand on his.

Joel wanted to bury his face in your hair, carry you to bed, hold on to you and rub your feet and bring you tea for the next four weeks. He didn’t deserve you, mindful as you were towards his worries and the health of the entire town. “You’re askin’ for the impossible, babe, you know that.”

You laughed lightly. “I know. I can try. At least I didn’t leverage doctor’s orders this time.” You tilted your head back, resting on his chest. “I’ll take a few more days, keep making some plans with the staff, and see how I feel later this week. ‘kay?”

“ ‘kay,” he echoed. You moved to step forward and reach for a dresser drawer again, but Joel followed and gently tugged you back against him. You opened your mouth to softly protest - you did need to get moving, after all - but Joel slid his hands firmly under your stomach, warm and sturdy, and without even realizing what was happening, you felt the pressure in his hands increase and a blessed lightness spread across the top of your hips and your pelvic muscles.

Joel leaned back just slightly, the weight of your belly in his hands, and he heard you make a noise he had never even heard you make in bed. “Oh God,” you groaned, drawing it out in a soft sigh. “I didn't even realize how much that- please don't move, I just want to stay-” you let your arms drop, thoughts of a shirt vanishing as you let yourself be cradled in this temporary, bodily gravity defying relief.

Joel wanted to chuckle at your words, but the deep instinct to simultaneously protect you while bringing you so close, around him, be inside you, kicked up again. He could only rest his forehead on the crown of your head, remind himself that you were here and whole and healthy, and marvel at your innate strength and abundant spirit to allow your body to be changed for him and for your family. He would always strive to be worthy of you, he knew that now. For now, that meant standing quietly in your home together, swaying gently, holding you and your child, your whole universe in his hands.

#cas reads #tlou fanfiction #lavender #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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leodette · 10 months ago

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The Greatest Gift of Them All | LN4

fandom: Formula 1

pairing: Lando Norris x OC (not named)

names/faceclaims: -

summary: he gave a 'gift', and because of that she quit; set in between 2021 - 2023

warning: age difference (older woman x younger man), unplanned pregnancy, single mother, mild angst

requested: yes / no

**********

She was hanging the wet laundry outside, letting the gentle summer breeze through her hair. She never used a dryer. Why buy such an expensive piece of equipment, when you have a whole garden outside, with strings tied under the pergola, just waiting for another basket of laundry?

Also, it smelled better. She hated the too-artificial smell of softener, preferring sun and wind against it. That was how she was raised after all.

She took another piece from the basket, shaking it a bit and smiling when she saw what it was. A small dark green T-shirt, with a picture of a red car on the chest. She remembered it when she saw it for the first time - opening a package from her cousin and his wife, taking out that t-shirt and a cat plushie with a big bow around its neck, remembering the tears that rolled down her face when she thanked her cousin for such a pretty gift.

His eyes were green…

She shushed her mind, not allowing herself to walk that path again. Instead, she just hung the t-shirt on the string, making sure it was straight and would require minimal ironing once it was dry when a giggle interrupted her thoughts.

Too high for it to be her father or her brother, she smiled gently as she looked towards a small sandbox under a walnut tree in the middle of the garden. A small boy was sitting there, playing with a yellow plastic ball. His dark curly hair was making a small halo around his head, already growing too quickly and being so unruly that she gave up, his eyes being probably the only thing he got from his mother. Otherwise, he was a carbon copy of his father. His father who had no idea he had a one-year-old son. Who would never know that he had a son if she had anything to say about it.

---

She was always just an average girl from a small town in a small country. There was nothing special about her. She was on the quiet side, didn't like the attention much, experienced bullying all the way through secondary school and high school… and then suddenly, she was at university. And she learned how to fly. How to open her wings and show people around her that she wasn't a scared pigeon, but a beautiful parrot, who found her voice.

And her voice she found. When she changed her job for the second time in two years - claiming one was too stressful and the other too boring - she decided to be bold. Playing the card of herself being outspoken, she managed to send her resume to McLaren while writing another boring article about local politics in early January. Mostly as a joke, a dare, not expecting to hear from them, that email being buried in her sent box, without much more attention.

But, then the answer came. With a request for a video interview.

To say she was shaken would be an understatement. She was. At first? She thought it was a prank, spam, a mistake. But it was not.

And so two days later she connected to a Zoom call with McLaren HR and the head of their communication, being asked about her experiences and about her visions, where she saw herself in five years, and why she wanted to work for them. It was a school book example of a proper job interview for an international corporation.

In the final, two other people connected, and she was introduced to them, asking her own questions, and then promised to be let know about the results. Which came in another two days.

We are informing you that McLaren Racing would like to offer you a work contract…

She still remembers the words to this day, she even printed the response and put it on her fridge after she stopped jumping around and screaming with excitement.

And so she left her hometown, her home country, and went to the UK, to MTC, to start working for one of the biggest companies in motorsport.

And that was where she met him.

… green eyes and freckles and your smile In the back of my mind…

Is that how Taylor sings it? Probably. But that was how she felt when she was first introduced to him. He was young, only in his third season in Formula 1, but he still took her breath away.

Looking back, she had it coming. She always had a thing for either boys that were younger than her, or much older than her. The same age? Not interested, thank you very much. (Her therapist said one day that maybe it's the result of her being bullied by boys of the same age. If it was true, she would never know.)

But there she was, seemingly unnoticed easing her way into Lando Norris's life, being the one who kept track of his timeline, who was looking after his things - his passport gave her a number of headaches and few missed flights - and who sometimes had to confiscate his phone.

But otherwise? They were good. They found a common ground.

She was three years older, and sometimes their relationship resembled younger brother and older sister. Or maybe a babysitter. But they were good, having a very similar sense of humor, and few similar interests, and he seemed to enjoy when she talked about her home, about how her country was different from his. He hated it when she spoke her mother tongue, not being able to understand a word she said, and she soon learned to provoke him with it, on purpose calling her parents or her siblings when they were stuck in a car or waiting for like a driver's meeting or for media day. And he hated her for it but still seemed curious. Sometimes though, there was a palable tension. She knew he looked at her as a man would look at woman. She knew that look. But in that time, she wouldn't ever dare to jeopardize her job with something like a mild feeling of a shared attraction.

They managed that for some time until Sochi came. Looking back at it, she should never have gone into his room to check if he was okay. Looking back, she was berating herself for being stupid.

Because the tension that was building between them for the past few months snapped that fateful evening. Some people say that there are two best ways to let the frustration and anger out - punch it out, or shag it out. That evening, they did the second.

She sneaked out of Lando's room in the early morning, her hair a complete mess and her bra missing as she wasn't able to locate it in his messy room. He secretly put it in her back later that day, together with a teasing smile, that she returned with difficulty. They never did it again, and they never spoke about it.

The tension between them changed since that day, especially from her side. It became weird. Yes, she sometimes slept with younger men. But never with those she worked with. Even Daniel seemed to realize something shifted. And when almost two months later she ran out of her hotel room in São Paulo in desperate need of find pharmacy, she knew she was in trouble. Especially when two lines appeared on a cheap plastic stick, changing her life forever. She was scared, freaking out in her hotel bathroom, having a horrible reality check, and on the outside presenting herself as if everything was all right.

She couldn't tell him. He was with Luisa at that time already, the girl being an absolute darling, stunningly pretty, a perfect match to Lando's still-in-my-teenage-years personality.

So she waited. Suffered from nausea in private, kept to herself, no longer mingling around the paddock, going out only when she had to.

She watched together with the rest of the world how the young Dutchman snatched the championship from the more experienced Brit, throwing the world of Formula 1 into controversy that would not stop in the upcoming years.

After that, she handed in her resignation, never telling anyone her true reasons, stating homesickness and never-ending traveling as the main reasons.

She hugged Lando in the privacy of his Adu Dhabi hotel room, wishing him well, He looked sad that she was leaving but promised her that they would keep in touch.

They never did.

Throughout the upcoming weeks, there wasn't a single message from no one of her former co-workers. Not to mention Lando himself. And one evening, her patience reached the limit. She deleted her Twitter and Snapchat, went through her followers on Instagram and threw out everyone who even slightly could connect her to Lando, then put it in private settings. Similar to her Facebook, where she deleted almost everything, keeping it mostly for texting with other people through Messenger.

She, seemingly without care, cut off the last year from her life.

But, well, she did care. She grew angry more and more throughout the following months. She didn't delete Lando's number from her phone. But he didn't call, didn't text, and she wasn't the one who would kick the conversation out. It was like they never existed for one another. Yes, she knew he had a busy schedule. But even in his daily calendar, she knew he spent an ungodly amount of time on his phone.

And as her anger grew, so did her stomach. Her parents never asked anything, just accepted the fact that the father wouldn't be in the picture, not even to pay the child support. She didn't want it. Her grandparents left a small inheritance to their three grandchildren, and she soon found a remote job for a PR company in her hometown. Her mother accompanied her to her ultrasounds, crying softly when she saw the small form of her first grandchild on the screen.

She asked the doctor not to tell her the gender. She wanted to be surprised. And she was, when in the middle of July of the next year, a small form of her son was put on her chest, his dark curly hair still wet with blood and fluids, and her being sweaty and her voice hoarse from screaming in pain.

She named him after her own father, a person who supported her without fail throughout those past seven months, and in his birth certificate she left the space under name of the father blank.

Her baby boy got her surname, and after recovering, she moved with him into a small garden house at her parent’s property, just a few steps away from her family. Besides his looks, he got nothing from his father.

She never told anyone beside her parents who the father of her son was, not even the father himself. He stayed in the darkness, blissfully unaware of that fact.

---

Her mother asked her one evening when she put her son to bed, if she ever planned on telling Lando the truth. She just snorted. She was twenty-six, had a one-year-old child, had a job, and he never once reached out to her. Not a single time.

If she ever had anything to say, he would never know he had a son. Once her boy was a bit bigger and started to ask after his Dad, then she would have to come up with some explanation. But for now? She could keep him blissfully in darkness, enjoying the feeling of being the most important person in his life.

Her and Lando's lives didn't align. They weren't compatible. They were like Sun and Moon, like Heavens and Hell.

Maybe it wasn't her plan - being a single mother, still living at her parent’s property, considering her own mother as her best friend and biggest help. She had imagined her future. But, as she always said - if you want to entertain God, tell Him your plans.

#lando norris #lando norris x oc #formula 1 #f1 #mclaren

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kit-williams · 1 year ago

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Rein Raus

LETS KICK OFF 2024 OFF RIGHT

Remember when I said I would use Powerwolf titles for Black Templars... well none of them fit for this.

Thank you to @bleepblood236 and @egrets-not-regrets for wanting and encouraging me to continue Brother Roland and his Bäckerin

Thank you @bispecsual for double checking this

tw: smut, yandere, religious overtones?, black templars, scent stuff? appreciation of musky males

There's POV switching from what is happening and what led up to it

Rein, raus Rein, raus Rein, raus

She threw her head back as she could not stop the moan that ripped from her throat as her eyes rolled back and drool ran down her chin. She tried her best to suck it back into her mouth but still some splatted against Roland's broad chest. Her hands pushing hard into the muscle gut as his Bäckerin did her best to lift her hips but it was so hard given how spread she was.

A hand of his rested on her thigh as he couldn't wait to fatten them back up. He remembers the way she was when they had first arrived how soft and curvy his Bäckerin looked... she had lost so much of her softness... he would make sure she was back to her old self. She was far too lost in the pleasure to see the dark look in his eyes as soon she would be in his room fat with his sons.

The xenos were dead... and she had finally made good on her offer of bread as soon as there were some supplies. Perhaps Roland had gotten some ingredients from the ship... she smelt so good... so FECUND he tasted the air running his tongue against the gland on the roof of his mouth as she had kneeded the dough. Of course it would take time before the bread was done so it gave him an excuse to get away from her before he pounced on her.

Roland wasn't a monster... he had to make sure that she wanted him. Even if it wasn't to the same extent that he wanted her... she could learn to feel the same a crumb of her love would sustain him he would starve until he could eat her whole. He bit into the warm bread trying to not moan as it was the same colored as the sunkissed skin of hers... like her thigh.

She offered to show him her home... she led him into the musty ruined home as she just smiled sadly at how others had gotten in... food rotting from the ripped open fridge. He kept close to her and even the smell of rotting food could not stop her smell from reaching him. He wanted to run his tongue at the source and smear it over his face. He wanted that scent stained onto a purity seal... stained onto a cloth he would bring with him and just to INHALE his Bäckerin scent.

She moaned as one of his hands wrapped around her throat and just held it. He didn't need to squeeze but he watched her eyes flutter as she pressed her throat against his hand. How his Bäckerin rutted against his cock deep inside of her, her breasts bounced, her drool running down his wrist... the way her eyes were half rolled back.

"Oh they didn't take them!" She says so happily as she pulls a box out compartment in the floor. She looks at the little box of treasures, Roland doesn't understand the sentiment of them but they mean something to her. He sits on the mattress on the floor, his eyes flicking between it and her and then to something that just reaks of her. "Oh sorry I was told I was probably going to come back... so I left my dirty laundry... probably contributing to the bad smell."

"It smells like you."

"I hope you're meaning that in a good way."

"I do. Bäckerin." He purred out his nickname for her and he watched her look to him. "Come here... klein Bäckerin."

His throat went dry as she crawled over to him. Her eyes wide and he could smell her. He felt his will start to falter. He could still clearly hear her screaming how she wanted to have babies... so many babies. If we was recalling correctly. His legs were spread as the rough material of his tunic did little to deter his pulsing between his legs. He had to bite his palm as she started to sniff the air... he was always told how intensely he could smell all that testosterone... it could be an unpleasant musky smell... like her potent pheromone smell that wasn't much of a smell but it just made part of his brain itch. A prior partner did not enjoy his "musk"... but his Bäckerin? He watched her breathing deepen... and her face break out into a blush. Why he had to bite his hand? She dove between his legs pressing her face against the rough material near his cock and just inhaling. Her feminine smell growing stronger. Before she pulled away looking ashamed. "My Lord... I'm sorry... you... you just smelled so good."

Rein, raus Rein, raus Rein, raus

He chanted in his head as his hips rolled against hers. Her face buried into his tunic... more importantly the spot that was around his crotch. She was moaning against the rough fabric as there was no way for either of them to deny what they were doing by this point. Oh at first she could have said that she had fallen face first into his crotch... his heavy hand pushing her on accident back in... they were going to pray... her poor breasts with their small scratches on them from the rough material of his tunic. Yet she seemed to hardly care just focused on him fucking her.

"Please tell me you're close." She whined having already gotten off three times just by him thrusting in. His smell was the only thing keeping her wet for him.

"Ja, Ich bin." His hands gripped her hips harder as he moved just a bit harder and faster. He finally feels that cord inside of him snap and he feels his toes curl as he pulls her hips to his slowly grinding against hers as he moans softly painting her insides.

"Oh by the throne...." His Bäckerin moaned as he pulled his tunic away from her and pulled her to his chest.

He held his Bäckerin close just running his fingers through her hair. He felt so complete in this moment. "Bäckerin..."

"Hmmm?" She hummed to him as her hand trailed along an old scar.

"Come with me." He states and feels his throat tighten as a beat passes. "Come with me... you can still bake your breads on the ship. Honestly my brothers and I would appreciate them more. I can give you what you want. I can give you those babies you want... my dearest Bäckerin... come with me." He said softly

Good Girl End

She looked to him and her eyes sparkled with joy. "Roland... but... I... I don't know what to say."

"Say yes Bäckerin." He whispers to her leaving tender kisses along the top of her head.

"How long until you go? I've got affairs to wrap up. I've got to make sure the family business stays in the family... Oh by the throne. Oh Roland!" Her arms wrap around his neck as she kisses him hard. "Yes... yes I'll follow you."

This is how Roland dreamed of getting his Bäckerin just wooing her with his strength and devotion... their bodies joining cleanly at the waist... and her saying yes. It was all perfect.

Too perfect if you ask me.

Bad End? Persuasion end Bad Girl End

She looked to him with concern in her eyes as she slowly shook her head. "Roland... I can't."

For Roland his world turned to a finite point and he could hear the snap of that reality breaking. He keeps a calm face but inside... inside he is screaming. This was not how it was to go... she was suppose to be swept away... he earned her. By the will of the God Emperor they both survived... he prayed for her death if it wasn't meant to be.

"I've got to find my family... rebuild my business and my life... all these petty little mortal worries." She looks ashamed as she sits up on his stomach, she rubs the back of her neck where not even an hour earlier she was wearing pretty pearls... in her joy to find her heirlooms. "I just... I just don't think it would work."

Roland forced his hearts to beat slowly as of course it was her being a mortal... looking at the wrong picture. He saw her look at him with a worried expression, "Please don't be mad." She whispers softly.

He gave her a tender look, "Oh meine Bäckerin I could never be mad at you. Ja... perhaps you're right I was so caught up with it all. C'mere." He purrs sitting up and she easily and willingly crawls back into his lap. She sighs happily as their naked flesh moves against each other before his hand moves up and over her mouth and nose. She tries to pull her head back but that fails and he watches her eyes widen with fear and panic as she starts to make muffled cries.

Roland sat there like a stone statue as she desperately clawed as his skin... as her muscles grew heavier... her small hands clawing at his wrists. "Bäckerin this hurts me so much more than you. You'll thank me liebe. I'll give you so many sons... so many babies." Roland coos into her ears as he watched her eyes roll back and waited before he released her mouth and nose.

She didn't snap awake but was still alive. He hummed as he grabbed several items she had deemed important including that box of heirlooms. He pulled a dress from her closet on over her... the sundress was a bit too showy for Roland's taste but it would only be for a short bit.

And when she would wake up he'd happily explain himself. She would certainly understand... it was the will of the God Emperor! She would have to understand that he had no choice.

And his will must be done.

#warhammer 40k #yandere #yandere Space Marine #Space Marine #Black Templar #Yandere Black Templar #tw: smut #tw: yandere #tw: religious themes #tw: kidnapping #Bäckerin #Brother Roland

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unmaskthewriter · 2 years ago

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You’re A Great Man, Arthur Morgan {Sean Macguire x Reader}

Summary: Arthur would always look after his younger sister, in this life and the next.

A/N: This is a first attempt at a Red Dead fanfiction. I apologize if it’s a little OOC. I just finished the game for the first time and boy, oh boy, was I heartbroken.

I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, published and/or translated on any platform including Tumblr.

Word Count: 2092

Warnings: Angst, Implied Canon Death, Injury, Language

GIF IS NOT MINE: ALL CREDITS BELONG TO LEVITHESTRIPPER

Summer; Clemens Point, 1899

When only Dutch and Micah had returned to camp from meeting Colm O’Driscoll, you felt your heart sink to your stomach. You had been hanging the laundry out to dry when the two unmounted their horses. Slowly, you come around the clothesline and approach the two men.

“Dutch… what happened? Where’s… where’s Arthur?” You asked softly, looking between the two men. Arthur was your brother, only a few years difference in age. After your parents had passed, and the two of you had been orphaned, Arthur joined the Van Der Linde gang in hopes of procuring money to take care of you. You’ve been stuck with the gang ever since.

“We… we don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know, Dutch?” You raise your voice and take a step closer. Micah intervenes, pressing a rough hand to your shoulder and slightly pushing you back.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Micah! Where is Arthur?!” You began to yell, an aching in your chest at the grief your brother may be lost or dead to the O’Driscolls. Sean, your fiancé, appears and gently holds you from behind as tears stream down your cheeks.

“Shhhh, my love. It’ll be alright, won’t it?” He reassures quietly, his free hand gently brushing back your hair.

“Oughta put a muzzle on her, Dutch.” Micah grumbled but it wasn’t unheard to you or Sean. Sean quickly turned, letting you go and standing toe to toe with Micah.

“What are you gonna do, cowpoke?” Micah questioned, his voice low and threatening.

“What a pile of shit you are, talking to ‘er thattaway.” Sean responded, looking up to Micah from under his hat. You gently took Sean’s hand, bringing him back and centered. He slowly backed away from Micah, never breaking eye contact.

“You’re a dead man, Micah.” Sean threatened before retreating with you to your tent. He sat you down on your makeshift bed, and crouched down in front of you, holding your hands. You sniffled.

“What am I going to do,” You hiccuped and looked away, “He’s my brother, Sean… and Dutch… I don’t think Dutch has any plan to rescue him.”

“Oh, lass. ‘M sure he’s already thinking of something,” He gently kissed your knuckles before standing, “let me get ya something t’ eat. It’ll help ya feel better.” He says before leaving the tent.

“Pearson’s cooking could never work such magic.” You mumble under your breath, looking away for a moment.

As you and Sean ate dinner, you silently formulated a plan to rescue Arthur. You would wait until Sean had his nightly drink, passing out drunkenly on the bedroll of your tent. As you watched his breathing slow down, the empty whiskey bottle in hand, you quietly grabbed your weapon belt, clipping it around your waist. You tiptoed over your fiancé’s body, quietly leaving the tent and sneaking over to the horses. Swiftly, you mounted Dakota, a Missouri Fox Trotter breed you had found a little ways from camp.

“Going somewhere, miss?” A soft spoken voice interrupts the silence and you freeze, slowly turning your head to see Kieran emerge from behind a tree, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya. I just… I was worried about you, and I-I saw you coming… y-you’re gonna go find Arthur, aren’t ya?“ He slowly approaches, patting your horse on the neck.

“Kieran, please don’t tell anyone.” You plead, gripping the reins.

“O-of course miss. I’ll think of something if anyone asks.” He quickly replies before stepping back and allowing you to ride off into the night. With nothing but the stars above to guide you, you ride forth, trying to ignore the various situations procured in your mind about what happened to Arthur.

As you’re searching not far from camp, a familiar horse approaches with someone riding on his back. Your heart skips, and you squint your eyes.

“Arthur!” You shout, quickly pulling the reins to slow your horse. Arthur slowly falls off the side of the saddle, lying face up in the dirt. He was stripped to his union suit, bloody and bruised. You dismount and rush over quickly, kneeling down beside your brother.

“Arthur… what did they do to you?” You ask quietly, tears coming to your eyes. You look around frantically before sitting up and carefully lifting him to his feet with much struggle.

“You know… this reminds me of that time.. you, Lenny and I got drunk at the saloon in Valentine. You had to carry me out...” Arthur chuckles as you help him onto the saddle, and mount in front of him.

“Only you could joke at a time like this.” You huff, grabbing his horse’s reins with a free hand and begin trotting back to camp. The sun was barely creeping over the horizon when you returned.

“They’re back!” Javier shouted, standing guard outside of camp. He quickly rushes over to help as Dutch emerges from his tent. You dismount and watch Javier and Dutch retrieve Arthur from his horse.

“I told you it was a setup, Dutch.” Arthur groans softly at the sudden movement. His feet land on the rough earth beneath him, stumbling slightly before Javier helps him stand properly.

“My boy, my dear boy, what?”

“They got me… but I got away. They were gonna set the law on us.” Arthur explains, letting out a small cough.

“Oh, of course he was.” Dutch grumbles

“Mr. Morgan, Mr. Morgan, you’re safe now…” The Reverend reassures him.

“Let's get him to bed.” You insist, helping Javier lead him to his tent as Dutch followed.

“You’re safe now, Arthur… you’re safe now.” Dutch affirms as Arthur is carefully placed into bed. Javier backs away as you pull up a chair alongside his bed, keeping him company.

It takes a few days for him to wake. You would sit at his bedside day and night, often eating and napping in his tent. Sean would often stop by, offer his apologies and what not.

“You have t’ know, I’m sorry… if I had known, I woulda went with ya, lass.. instead of gettin’ drunk and sleepin’ on the floor.” Sean spoke quietly, standing at the foot of Arthur’s bed.

“This isn’t your fault, Sean… it’s just the life we live,” You reassure him, flashing a small smile, “Stay out of trouble, my love. I’ll be with you soon,” You grab his hand gently and kiss it, “I promise.” He smiles and nods, leaving the tent.

“You’re too good for him, ya know…” Arthur groans and you quickly turn, your face lighting up.

“A-Arthur, oh thank god!” You begin to cry as you take his hand. He rubs his eyes with his free hand, looking around rather confused.

“Hell… what happened?”

“They took you, Arthur.. the O’Driscolls and his men, while Dutch was striking false bargains with that snake, Colm… I found you out there riding by yourself.. thought you were dead.” You whispered the last part, looking down.

“Ah, I ain’t going nowhere, girl… been taking care of ya for as long as I could remember.” He chuckles, slowly pushing himself up. He indulges himself with the glass of water at the bedside. A moment passes.

“Do you mean it… that I’m too good for Sean?” You question, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re too good for anyone, but I see he cares about you a lot… why’d ya ask?” Arthur raises a brow, slowly setting the now empty glass on the nightstand.

“Well.. I-I.. this isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but I’m.. I’m pregnant.”

A few months later; Beaver Hollow, 1899

You sit at the campfire in the center of the almost empty camp, enjoying its warmth as Sean sits alongside you. Closer to the northern mountains, the fall brought a certain chill in the air that was difficult to shake. Not to mention, the area surrounding Beaver Hollow held a certain eeriness to it. You were aware Arthur and Charles had to clear the campsite of Murfree men and women before the gang’s arrival. Those who escaped still lingered in the woods of Roanoke Ridge.

Beside you, Sean’s red hair was creeping out from the edges of his hat, his eyes focused on you. Since you told him of your condition, he hardly let you out of his sight. Naturally, you would still assist in chores and such as seen fit, but you couldn’t help but spend most of your time worrying about your brother. He has been rather sickly as of late, no matter the herbs and flowers you provided to help him feel better. You watch as Arthur talks to Sadie on the outskirts of camp as she practices throwing knives.

“What’s on ya mind, love?” Sean gently grabs your arm, looking at you with love and concern.

“I’m worried about Arthur is all… he won’t tell me what’s wrong, I suppose he doesn’t want to worry me when I’m like this.” You sigh softly. Sean smiled weakly.

“It’s gon’ be alright, lass. Arthur’s a tough man.” He tries to reassure you. Arthur and Sadie ride off from camp and you sigh softly. ‘I hope so.’

“Do you ever feel like… all of this,” You gesture to the camp, “… is falling apart?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t go as far t’ say that. It’ll all work out in the end,” Sean tries to comfort you, placing a hand on your swollen tummy, “it has to.”

A few weeks had passed, and tensions between the government and the Native Americans were growing. You despised that your brother had gotten involved, considering Dutch had pushed the effort in order to take some of the attention away from the gang. While Dutch and the others were assisting Eagle Flies on his final stand, Sadie rode into camp rather frantically.

“Sadie, I thought you were with the others..” You stand, folding the last piece of clothing and placing it in the basket. She quickly dismounts her horse. Sean approaches you from the tent you both shared, placing his hand on the small of your back.

“They’re fine but… you need to leave. Dutch… isn’t himself and Pinkertons aren’t far.” Sadie explains, almost out of breath.

“What about Arthur?”

“Arthur asked me to do this, please, just hurry.” She pleads, helping grab your things. You look at Sean, lost.

“Did you know about this?” You question, and he sighs, taking off his hat for a moment.

“My parents were criminals.. and I don’t only have myself to think about anymore,” He explains, placing his hand on your stomach now, “After everything dies down, we can come back for Arthur.” He reassures before walking to the tent and grabbing his packed bags.

Sean helps you onto his horse, taking one last look at the camp before following Sadie to Copperhead Landing where Abigail and Jack were. You fought back the tears, a deep feeling settling inside you that you wouldn’t see your brother again.

—

It was the following day before John had met with us and the others at Copperhead Landing. He looked… lost, and hurt, but was putting on a brave face.

“John!”

“Pa!”

On his side was a familiar item that would make you crumble to your knees.

Arthur’s satchel.

John quickly greeted Abigail and Jack before approaching you. For a moment he was quiet, unsure of what to say.

“I-I’m so sorry. I tried... I tried to make him come with me…” John explained, his own throat getting caught on his words. Sean kneels down beside you, rubbing your back.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You grumble before throwing up your lunch, gripping the grass beneath you tightly. Sadie stood back, standing watch. Sean comforts you.

“There ya go, lass… let it out of ya.”

“I-is he gone… did you see him?” You slowly look up, wiping the edges of your mouth with a small handkerchief provided by Sean.

“I couldn’t.. Dutch and the Pinkertons.. he wouldn’t let me stay, I’m so sorry,” John told her, before reaching in the satchel for a letter, “he told me to give this to ya.” You grab the satchel from John, gripping it tightly and refusing to let go.

“I hate to break this up, but we better get goin’.” Sadie interrupts as Sean helps you stand and mount his horse. He clambers in front of you, gripping the reins. You can’t help but look to the mountains as the group rides off, holding the satchel to your chest as you all flee from your past, and into a future unknown.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #sean macguire #arthur morgan #sean macguire x reader #kieran duffy #dutch van der linde #van der linde gang #x reader #oneshot #fanfiction #rdr2 fandom #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption

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bubblepopsims · 1 year ago

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It didn’t take long for a notification to pop up on her phone and she immediately went to listen to it.

T: “Yeah. I’ll come over to smoke, I’ll bring supplies, and also stop by your favorite burger joint and pick you up something. I’m currently in the grocery store so if you need anything let me know.”

Rubys eyes wandered and her lips turned into a thin line. Finding herself both annoyed and happy at how good of a guy Tobias was and is. Picking up her favorite food.. asking if she needed anything, and the tone in his voice told her that he was genuinely happy and surprised at her message. “You do no wrong do you…” she sighed and responded back with her favorite snacks. Waiting impatiently for his arrival.

It took maybe a solid hour before Tobias arrived, Ruby had taken down her hair and let it hair dry for the most part, even put another load of laundry into the washer. her back was towards the door not even hearing the door open or close. T: "you should really start locking your door you never know who might come in."

Ruby slowly turned seeing the smug smirk plastered on Tobias face before it subtly turned stern. his eyes wandered over her and made his way to set the bags down in the kitchen before plopping down on the couch with a light huff. Ruby followed slowly watching him settle in before looking up at her with a certain concerned expression. "he wants to talk.... fuck."

T: "do I even have to ask?"

Ruby said nothing hoping, prayinnnggg to fucking god he would just leave it alone but. T: "whats going on? you send your brother to tell me you don't want to see me? i thought we were better than that." Ruby sighed "Tobias, please... i dont know what Josiah told you specifically but i didn't mean any harm with it."

Tobias sighed and looked down at the floor briefly just to raise his eyes back up to Ruby. T: "you could have just told me." R: "i know.." she let out a deep breath coming to the realization that this was not the last of it. so she plopped herself down next to him on the couch.

R: "honestly i dont want to talk about it..." Tobias groaned and leaned back against the back of the couch shaking his head. T: "you are frustrating you know that?"

Ruby huffed and nodded "Trust me i know i am.. its just he brought up the wedding okay? brought up Izzi.. and well you kinda know the gist of it." T: "A gist? say more like a corner of a whole foot-long sub." Ruby couldn't help but chuckle and gave him a reassuring look. R: "Look... This... is not something i can just turn on and off.. trust me i wish i fucking knew how but i cant.. everyday.. everyday i look in the mirror it's there.. right there on my face. the memories. And now i find out the person i was so into for so long.. dealt with trauma and heartache and pain is getting fucking married. and its not to me.."

R: "its not easy for me to just get over it. I am damaged in more ways than one, but i am getting better.. doesn't mean i won't have slip-ups or fall back into old habits of pushing people away... pushing you away. you've been there.. back then when i first arrived here, i didn't know where i was going.. i didn't know what i was going to do.. and than i tumbled into that shitty fucking bar -she chuckled- and see you.. you didn't ask questions, you didn't hit on me, you just passed me a beer and gave me a nod. you didn't judge, you weren't scared, you were just genuinely giving me space to breathe." A small smirk formed on her lips "Well that's until you passed me your number on a wet ass napkin."

Tobias shrugged with embarrassment and let out a small laugh "god yeah... i remember that... shit... ahaha... but i get that you need time and space to figure out your thoughts and feelings.. it wasn't that, that got under my skin.. it is- Tobias hesitated on stating what he truly wanted to "i fucking love you and i just want to be there for you damnit.. you are such a fucking stubborn woman." but decided against it.- just, I am sorry.. I took it personally when i knew I shouldn't have. i know that it must be painful to hear that the person you love is about to marry someone else."

Ruby's mouth fell open ready to object to the words love as a present tence but the more she thought about it. the more it was true. she did genuinely love Izzi... was Ruby still in love with Izzi was the thing she didn't quite know for sure.. but seeing tobias so concerned, and troubled by his own feelings, warmed her heart a bit. R: "i am usually not the one to request things like this.. but can i have a hug?" Tobias face softened and looked over at a vulnerable? Ruby and let out a sigh "of course, come here."

Tobias took her into his arms, this was the closest they have been in weeks and part of him missed it.. he could tell she washed her hair today, the subtle scent of florals radiated from the still slightly tamp set of curls that spilled down her back. To his surprise he felt her grip grow tighter around him, nuzzling her nose into shoulder and take a deep exhale.

"he smells so good... like fresh cut wood... tall forest trees and the lingering scent of a lake near by.. i oddly missed his scent...his arms around me, that warmth that radiates off of him. "

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#ts4 simblr #ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 story #the tribe #sims 4 #my sims #oc:ruby #oc: tobias

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shewritesinblackink · 1 year ago

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The horizon of Dawn - a walking dead universe fanfic - part 1: the edge of time

twdxf!oc!

part 2 part 3 part 4 ( links to come)

summary: Every day since the end of the world as we know it, Dawn watches the sun set on the horizon, and the moon rises like an ancient goddess watching her from above. Accustomed to the silence of solitude, she suddenly finds herself tangled up with a group of survivors. And the great scheme of things is disturbed.

Beginning at the quarry, before Rick is found by Glenn. Merle finds Dawn snooping around their camp and brings her to the others. What will they do? Will they trust her? Everything changes, but is it for the better?

reposting this fanfic because i think i mainly posted it on AO3, btw here's the link if you prefer to read there.

Dawn stumbled on some hidden roots as she walked in the forest, careful not to make too much noise. Who knows what lies in this forest..

A branch suddenly snapped a little farther ahead and she immediately scooted down, hiding behind some bushes. Voices erupted from nearby and a rustle of leaves being stomped on came to Dawn’s ears. Someone, possibly multiple people, were somewhere near and the thought alone made her stomach turn into a tight knot. People.. alive..

Frankly she didn’t know what to think nor do. She stood frozen in place, listening to the voices and sounds. She heard laughter and yelling. Those people weren’t really discreet, they could attract any geeks roaming around.

Put up a giant sign that says “eat me!” that’ll be the same.

Letting a soft sigh escape her lips, Dawn stood up slowly and scanned the area, searching for any signs of a human presence near her, when the shuffling of leaves started again. This time Dawn located where the sound seemed to come from. After a few seconds the young woman started walking slowly, as silently as she could, and soon enough she could make out the outline of a camp. a camp! From her hiding spot she could see a few tents and people. A woman was skinning fishes and another one was putting the laundry to dry. Rising against the trunk of a tree Dawn tiptoed to see further and noticed a lot of cars and a man on the roof of an old looking RV. He had a rifle by his side and looked toward the only road leading to and out of the quarry.

Some kids were running around, laughing and playing with toys. A man was carrying an ax and another one dry branches– presumably to make a fire later in the evening.

Dawn left her spot for another, nearer the tent and the woman preparing the fishes. She was talking to someone else and they were laughing.

Who are they? Why are they laughing like nothing ever happened? The world went to shit and they are just camping like a big friend group would.

Getting a little bit closer, she listened in to the conversation, hoping to learn something about this group.

Maybe they have food.. that thought made her stomach growl and she stopped moving, hoping the women didn’t hear it. She waited a little but they didn’t move so she changed her position again, walking along the edge of the camp, hiding behind tents and running bent down when she had nothing to cover her but bushes.

What Dawn didn’t realize was that someone was also watching her.

Merle was silently standing a few meters away hidden by low branches and bushes, his hands in his pockets, as he was watching someone going around their camp. When he first spotted the silhouette behind the trees he’d thought it was another geek, but then he noticed how the shadow had moved, from trees to bushes, careful not to step on crunchy leaves and to stay low. He thought that whoever was that person, they were used to walking silently even before the world went to shit, or they were smart enough to understand the basics of surviving.

Not like those jackasses we’re stuck with, a scowl appeared on his face at the thought.

At the beginning, he and his little brother Daryl had decided to follow the train of cars leaving the main road because they were heading in the opposite direction– not going for Fort Benning. They quickly drove on a dust road and arrived at the quarry and the brothers had thought it would indeed be smart to find a place to stay for a few days instead of being stuck on the road with all those things roaming the area.

But now, weeks had passed and they weren’t so sure of what to do anymore. Should they leave the group and try to survive by themselves, or should they stay? Merle couldn't bring himself to make a decision and Daryl didn’t seem much interested in leaving. A few nights ago they’d just talked about it and he had said to his big brother what’s the point o’ leavin’? Merle opened his mouth to retort something but felt silent, short on words. He didn’t know what to do so they silently agreed on staying until something happened, maybe an opportunity presenting itself or whatever.

A soft noise of leaves being moved brought the man back to the present, and his blue eyes moved frantically when he noticed the silhouette was gone. But he quickly remained calm as he spotted the person a little more on his left, peeking through the tents. Probably planning on stealing our stuff. His jaw tenses.

Quickly, he moved silently through the forest and came behind the silhouette as if hunting his next dinner. A sweet little deer would be perfect. Grabbing the person by the upper arm, he tossed them around and without giving a damn whether or not he was hurting them, he dragged them toward camp. “Look what i found!” he yelled at the others. The stranger immediately started to wiggle, trying to break free from his rude grasp but they were so close to the camp she didn’t have the time to throw a kick his way that he threw her to the ground heavily. The gravel hitting her sweaty palms, she quickly got up in a small cloud of dust, eying her surroundings expectantly.

Here under the hard sun of the early afternoon he could see the person more clearly. It was a young woman, probably in her early twenties, shoulder length hair the color of hazelnuts. Her eyes were scanning the people slowly gathering around her, jaw tight and twitching. They were whispering things and it made her feel uneasy, he saw her fingers move near her leg, as if they were itching. itching to grab somethin’ to defend herself, he scoffed to himself. Her gaze met his and it was defiant. Merle could see different emotions passing in her eyes, she was trying to suppress them, to control them. Anger, disorientation, fear.

He detailed her from head to toes; the hunting knife hung at her belt, her cargo pants, dirty hiking shoes and flannel button-down shirt. She was ready for the apocalypse, he thought and a smug smile appeared on his lips. She looked like the type of person who’s always ready for whatever comes their way.

This should be fun.

The women and men of the camp gathered around the stranger and were doing just like him; detailing her, watching every little detail about her. Her dirty face and hair, long nails untrimmed since a long time were dirty and bloody, some were broken or bite down. Multiple cuts on her fingers and hands had left soft scars on the flesh, and on her right arm he saw weird black lines running from her middle finger to hide beneath her sleeves. That detail picked his curiosity particularly.

Shit-head-Shane, like he called him in his mind, came closer than the rest of the crowd and held out a gun. S’he gonna shoot the deer?

“What the hell’s goin’ on?”

“Found ‘er snoopin’ around yer tents.”

Shane threw a weird look toward Merle, exhaling sharply as if the sound of his voice was enough to draw the worst in him. Shane opened his mouth, wanting to ask him what he was doing alone in the forest but he kept his mouth shut for once. He had to deal with something new.

“And you are?” His eyes were now fixated on hers, dark like charcoal and his brow furrowed. She didn’t speak, didn’t even open her mouth.

Shane’s patience was thin, Merle knew it. She’d better start talking or she’d end up with a bullet in her pretty head.

“Hey! I asked you something!” He took a step closer and moved the gun toward her head, almost yelling. Everybody watched as she swallowed hard, thinking.

“Name’s Dawn.”

“Dawn, okay. Well, what were you doin’? Planning on takin’ our food?”

“No.”

Her brow was furrowed as if she was telling the truth but Merle wasn’t a fool. What a girl, alone in the forest, good as sneaking around, would do close to their camp if not steal their food or anything useful to her? Maybe she even had a settlement with people waiting for her. But it seemed odd as Daryl and him had spent the last weeks hunting in the forest, they never saw anyone, not even the smoke of a campfire.

“What were you doing? I’m not gonna ask this a third time.” Shane’s tone was low and sounded like thunder. He seemed so angry, so on edge, Merle thought he’d shoot the poor thing right here right now, in front of the others, with the children watching in horror.

The girl– Dawn, took a look around her. She observed the people gathered in a large circle far from her but not too much. They were scared but still wanted to witness what would happen, they wanted a show, drama to unfold. Life at the quarry was becoming too dull and boring now that they were all settled in a little routine.

Her chest rose and fell heavily, as though she was out of breath. And maybe she was from trying to get free from Merle’s grasp. Maybe she was scared. But a second and a blink later, she became an entire new person, as calm as the surface of a lake. She rose to her full height, scanning the crowd once more, her breathing became more regular and calm.

“I was walking when i heard noises so i went to check it out.” her tone was flat, not pleading, not asking. Almost confident. Almost.

Shane let out a small laugh. hu-hu, mister shit-head is making fun of the new chick, that ain’t good.

“Why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You playin’ stupid on me?” Shane shook the gun, cocking his head to one side.

She didn’t answer, it was almost defiantly. Truly she didn’t even have an answer. Anything she would or could say would be for nothing as they would find something weird about it. As if during a zombie apocalypse a young woman traveling alone was the most bizarre thing.

Her gaze dropped to her dirt covered shoes, her hands hidden along her pants and too big shirt, making fists like she was trying to hold herself together.

“Don’t know,” she trailed off, looking up at Shane, eyes watery. “I was just alone when it all went to shit and..” She drew in a shaky breath, becoming another person again, Merle furrowed his brow in confusion. “And i didn’t know where to go.” She glanced at the crowd surrounding her like she was an actress on stage checking her audience, making sure everyone was listening. “Figured the woods would be safe enough for a few weeks.”

Merle noticed how everybody shifted from one foot to the other, crossing their arms or putting their hands in their pockets. Nobody knew what to do, and nobody wanted to deal with the situation if they were being honest. But they enjoyed the distraction. So did he.

***

When a big man walked up to her, Dawn didn’t know how she should play it so she started getting a hold of herself ; getting up to her full height, calm and unreadable face, arms on each side of her body. But she saw how the man talking to her felt more uncomfortable by her stance and attitude. So she shifted back to the scared young girl, maybe with a hint of naivety on her face. Eyes open big and watery, brow furrowed, mouth shut tight as though she was trying not to piss herself or burst into tears. She hoped her little character would convince them she didn’t mean any harm. Truly she was just alone in those woods when she heard the noises. But why would they believe her? why would hey believe anything i have to say?

The first to speak from the crowd of survivors was a woman. Short gray hair and worry written all over her face, she was clutching a little girl’s hand.

“Shane, i think you’re scaring her.” Her voice was soft and calm, almost a whisper.

So the big man’s name was Shane, okay, Dawn took notes mentaly.

“She’s just a lost girl, have a little sympathy.” And at that the short haired woman took a few steps until she was close to Dawn. So close she thought she was going to embrace her in a hug. The little girl stayed behind clutching her dirty teddy bear, eyes wild open.

“Carol.” Shane’s voice sounded like a warning but an old man stepped in. He had a hat and a sniper-rifle, Dawn recalled seeing him on the RV’s roof.

“Hey.” He offered her a warm smile and for no reason it made Dawn feel a little less scared. Because she was really scared, she just didn’t want to show it in the first place. She’d learned that, in life, showing weakness to the wrong person could end badly, so she always pulled on a stern face, trying to appear tough and hard.

The old man took off his hat, put it in the hand holding the rifle and held his now free hand out to Dawn. Was she supposed to shake it? Like everything was normal and this was just an encounter like they would’ve had before?

She shook it nonetheless. Her sweaty palm felt small and weak in his warm one. He smiled again and Dawn sniffed back tears, nodding slightly at him.

“Dale what the hell you doin’?” Shane had dropped his gun, but still held it firmly as if the newcomer would suddenly turn into one of those things and aggressively start eating whoever came too close.

“Welcoming a lost young girl by making her feel not scared, Shane.” The old man– Dale, threw a scowl at Shane. He insisted on each word, trying to put some sense into Shane’s head.

“He’s right,” another woman said, taking a step forward. She had long brown hair, curly from the humidity that stung in the air of the quarry. A little boy was clutching her tight.

Shane’s shoulders seemed to drop as his face distorted into something between laugh and incredulity.

“Lori–”

“No, Shane! Damn it! Look at her and tell me she looks seriously threatening to you?”

Dawn took it at her clue to look as scared and inoffensive as she could, and when Shane turned his head toward her she tried to muster some tears to make her appear even more frightened. He huffed in exasperation, not very convinced but turned on the safety of his gun and put it back in his holster at his waist.

Dawn took a good look at that scary man; he was wearing military boots and his pants and t-shirt looked awfully like some cop’s uniform. So he’s a cop, uh.

The young woman was trying to register as much information as she could while still appearing harmless. She hoped no one had seen her knife at her belt, even though she could easily make them believe she didn’t know how to use it. I’m not dangerous, she wanted to tell them, but was it true? Was she really as nice as she tried to appear?

Dale, placed a hand on her shoulder and started to walk her to the RV, the crowd started to dissipate as the show was ending. Carol and Lori followed them inside the vehicle.

***

After Dale took the new girl to the RV for whatever chit-chat he, Lori and Carol wanted to have, the rest of the crowd disappeared, everyone going back to their chores or whatever they were doing before. But as he stood in place, he saw the worried looks on some faces and the curiosity on some others, glancing toward the RV from time to time. Would they welcome her into the group or send her on her way? Or something else? He didn’t want to stand right there like an idiot but he was curious as to what kind of conversation the four of them were having.

Before even taking a step toward the RV, he saw in the corner of his eye the way Shane looked at him. That ain’t good. Merle spat on the floor.

Shit-face-Shane walked over to where Merle was still standing, his arms on his hips like he was the high commander of the quarry and the others his little obedient soldiers.

“How’d you find her?” It was a simple question but Merle found great pleasure in playing around with the cop.

He just shrugged and put on his best “go fuck yourself” kinda smile.

“Merle.”

“What?” Merle tried to seem surprised like a child caught with his hand in the candy jar, but he was more annoyed than anything. “ ‘was just walkin’ back to camp when i saw someone snoopin’ aroun’.” Shane didn’t know what to say, he was just angry and frustrated and needed to unleash his emotions on someone, and what better someone than Merle Dixon, the outcast of the group, uh?

“What now? You’d have preferred me to shoot ‘er before bringin’ her lifeless to camp?” He threw his arm open in a grant gesture and walked away before Shane could say anything back. If he stayed one more second in his presence he’d have his brain splattered all over the place in the blink of an eye.

After a long time in the RV, and a curious Andrea eavesdropping from the small window on the roof while she was on duty keeping watch, the three members of the group and the newcomer went out. Dawn was the last one to get out, her plaid shirt in one hand and her backpack in the other. The man noticed the black lines on her right arm he saw a few moments earlier, it was running along her arm from the fingers and was hidden by her t-shirt's short sleeves. From afar he couldn’t tell what it was supposed to look like.

curious.

Carol got back to her daughter and husband but Lori and Dale walked the young woman to Shane. They spoke a little and like a defeated man, Shane held up his hands in a surrounding motion. He then gestured toward the trunk of his truck and gave the girl a sleeping bag.

Her backpack wasn’t big and Merle couldn’t see any tent or camping materials. She’d have to sleep with the sky as only roof, but if she survived in the forest all this time without a tent nor a sleeping bag, he guessed she’d be just fine. Hell, who’s she?

That evening, the brown haired woman sat with the others around the campfire, eating one of the squirrels Daryl had brought back from his hunt. The man wasn’t there when Merle had discovered the woman so he had a curious look on his face upon seeing a stranger at their camp. His older brother vaguely told him the story.

She was now silently sitting between Dale and Glenn, staring at the embers in the foyer while eating her share with appetite. Obviously the young man had sympathized with her, they were about the same age and she probably felt less anxious with him. He was easy to be around, but even if she smiled shyly when he talked to her, she seemed more comfortable in the silence. When nobody seemed to notice her presence.

Shane didn’t took his eyes off of her, as if he could read her very deep secrets just by staring at her.

The others also noticed how hungry she seemed to be, and when the sweet Amy gave her half of her own share, she looked up at her in surprise. Merle knew that look. Afraid someone might snatch the plate away from her.

It seemed like no one wanted to go to sleep after dinner; beers were being opened and some people started asking questions to Dawn.

How is it being on your own? How did you survive the outbreak? Why didn’t you leave for Fort Benning like everyone else? Where is your family?

She started to shut off at that last question, which led a very thoughtful Glenn to ask other questions about her past, before telling her a bit about his.

“I was a delivery guy. What about you?” he gave her a weak smile, trying to be comforting maybe.

But she hesitated.

“Nothing special,” she let her sentence in suspens, shrugging.

An awkward silence fell onto the small circle of survivors, some of them sipping on their warm beers– no more cooler in the apocalypse.

They talked a bit more but she seemed exhausted like the rest of them, so one by one they started to head toward their tents. Dawn settled her sleeping back next to the fireplace.

***

The next few days went by pretty simply; Dawn took part at the activity around camp, helping with the laundry, collecting woods and helping preparing the food. But Shane made it a clear point that she wasn’t allowed anywhere near the kids nor in the forest without surveillance. She wasn’t allowed any weapons, so she had to, reluctantly, give her knife to the cop– he eyed her suspiciously when he saw the hunting sharp blade and almost made a comment, but decided against it.

She slept in the open air, under the stars and she liked it, even though it could get a bit chilly at times when the embers of the small fire wouldn’t last long.

She felt a bit like an outcast even if people would smile at her, they would still throw side-glance her way and whisper in her back. Thankfully some women tried to make her feel more at ease, usually by talking, they would laugh and have some good time.

Still, Dawn felt weird. Sure the people were nice, nicer she could have hoped and Glenn and Amy were about her age so she mostly spent her time with them. The other women were good people as well, Carol was really nice and gentle, Andrea was honest and straightforward, Jacqui was a sweetheart too; they all were really nice to Dawn. It was something she wasn’t used to and didn’t really know how to deal with. Usually she was by herself, not talking much to people or interacting with strangers, so everything was new for the young woman.

She didn’t have much friends before, and certainly won’t make a lot of friends now that the vast majority of humans had turned into eating-flesh monsters. She hoped this group would grow to like her more, and vice versa. She really wanted it to work, now that she had a taste at living in a small community fighting together against the rest of the world. It seemed surreal.

Eventually those people would abandon or reject her, and she would feel worse than she already felt. And maybe she won’t even survive this time. She tried her best to cast the dark thoughts out of her mind, and it was easier when she had something to do. It was easier when she was not alone with herself, alone with her thoughts running and running like mad dogs in her head. So, everyday since she arrived at camp, she watched as the sun would set on the quarry and how life would become quieter. It seemed everything became calmer and safer at the end of the day. But she wasn’t a fool, she knew what it meant when the sun would start his race toward the horizon to hide and let the moon rise.

She knew it meant she would soon enough be alone in her sleeping bag, staring at the stars silently while her mind would play tricks on her. Sometimes a single tear would escape but she’d quickly sniffle and whip it away, closing her eyes she’d try to think about other things and eventually fall asleep.

And the next day would be the same.

any comments or recommendations/thoughts on this first part is welcome! or if you have some ideas on where the story should go, let me know!

#the walking dead #twd fanfic #rick grimes #twd daryl #twd rick #twd merle #daryl dixon #merle dixon #shane walsh #fanfic #twd imagine #fmc #female original character #merle x reader #daryl x reader #rick x reader #carol peletier #reader x twd

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halothenthehorns · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 9: WE VISIT THE DEMON DUDE RANCH

Magnus looked personally offended at what he'd just read as the new chapter title. "I take it back, I don't want to know what the Triple G stands for anymore."

"Ugh, I'm with you on this one," Alex huffed. "Manly dudes strutting around being all macho with cowboy boots sounds as appealing as going shopping with Karen. Unless some Brokeback Mountain shit goes on, I'm out."

Magnus felt a very debilitating sense of hope as he realized Alex might not think muscular dudes like Hugh Jackman were his type...but wait, what did that say about himself?

"I'm sensing a lot of denim in this upcoming chapter and I am not going to like it," Thalia grumbled.

"Wearing a cowboy hat to cover up horns should be no one's idea of a good time," Jason agreed, though he would totally call in an I told you so to Percy if he guessed it right.

"But, but, cute animals!" Will protested. He enjoyed the south, thank you very much, and missed it quite a lot in the winter especially. It was really charming in the right places.

Nico was huddled up in his seat deep into his jacket. He'd been loathing this oncoming chapter and more of his crappy life on display. Will sighed, but all of the cute farm animals in the world and a merciful dry cold in the dead of winter had nothing on Nico's miserable brown eyes that just wanted to get through this.

We finally stopped in a room full of waterfalls. The floor was one big pit, ringed by a slippery stone walkway. Around us, on all four walls, water tumbled from huge pipes. The water spilled down into the pit, and even when I shined a light, I couldn't see the bottom.

"Now that would have been a badass Poseidon cabin," Jason said.

"I could do my own laundry without getting out of bed," Percy chuckled.

Briares slumped against the wall. He scooped up water in a dozen hands and washed his face. "This pit goes straight to Tartarus," he murmured. "I should jump in and save you trouble."

Percy winced uneasily at that. "I could never have a slumber party in my room though, I just know somebody's bound to fall in."

"Still think it's appropriate," Jason muttered. This area summed up his feelings about Neptune pretty well.

"Don't talk that way," Annabeth told him. "You can come back to camp with us. You can help us prepare. You know more about fighting Titans than anybody."

"You really did just stumble into a game changer of a friend in prison," Jason agreed.

"I will not be putting that in the summary, my mother would kill me!" Percy yelped.

"I have nothing to offer," Briares said. "I have lost everything."

"That's when you should build something," Alex said in one of his most serious tones of voice.

"Tyson would help," Magnus agreed with a gentleness to his voice that didn't surprise anyone.

"What about your brothers?" Tyson asked. "The other two must stand tall as mountains! We can take you to them."

"Oh, so he just needs a growth spurt, explains a lot," Percy chuckled, but it fell flat. Annabeth wasn't here to elbow him to shut up about still making jokes on that.

Briares's expression morphed to something even sadder: his grieving face. "They are no more. They faded."

The waterfalls thundered. Tyson stared into the pit and blinked tears out of his eye.

"What exactly do you mean, they faded?" I asked. "I thought monsters were immortal, like the gods."

Yet Percy looked as somber as anyone else for that question being said out loud. There had already been evidence enough immortal didn't mean one would live forever, Zoe had been more than enough of an experience for them to learn that; having been erased from history even before her death.

"Percy," Grover said weakly, "even immortality has limits. Sometimes...sometimes monsters get forgotten and they lose their will to stay immortal."

Looking at Grover's face, I wondered if he was thinking of Pan. I remembered something Medusa had told us once: how her sisters, the other two gorgons, had passed on and left her alone.

Something of that still nagged at Percy's mind, those two Bargain Mart Ladies that had chased him non-stop no matter how convinced he was they should have died from that bowling ball accident.

Then last year Apollo said something about the old god Helios disappearing and leaving him with the duties of the sun god. I'd never thought about it too much, but now, looking at Briares, I realized how terrible it would be to be so old—thousands and thousands of years old—and totally alone.

"Makes Mr. D a tad more relatable, huh?" Will asked sadly. "Stuck alone at that camp."

"He's not alone," Percy scowled, "he's got us ants there to torture!" He didn't really shout though. It did make a kind of sense put that way, even if he'd still forever wish they weren't Dionysus's punishment.

"I must go," Briares said.

"Kronos's army will invade camp," Tyson said. "We need help."

Briares hung his head. "I cannot, Cyclops."

"You are strong."

"Not anymore." Briares rose.

"Hey," I grabbed one of his arms and pulled him aside, where the roar of the water would hide our words. "Briares, we need you. In case you haven't noticed, Tyson believes in you. He risked his life for you."

I told him about everything—Luke's invasion plan, the Labyrinth entrance at camp, Daedalus's workshop, Kronos's golden coffin.

Briares just shook his head. "I cannot, demigod. I do not have a finger gun to win this game." To prove his point, he made one hundred finger guns.

Percy's heart flinched in his chest like it was trying to flee him. Looking at that given him a shot of pure fear, like looking down a military execution aimed right at him.

But it was just a game. A silly trick he'd done to help Briares escape, but like Magnus had said, it was a lesson the hundred-handed one was turning back on him now to leave.

"Maybe that's why monsters fade," I said. "Maybe it's not about what the mortals believe. Maybe it's because you give up on yourself."

"Wise words for a seaweed brain," Thalia shook her head affectionately. "Is that why you pulled him away, so Annabeth wouldn't punch you for mocking her?"

Percy grinned and mock wiped his brow in relief. "You caught me, please don't tell?"

"Nah, it can be our secret," she smiled.

His pure brown eyes regarded me. His face morphed into an expression I recognized—shame.

Percy knew even Tyson couldn't have stopped this guy and dragged him along, but he still sat there wishing he could. That he'd done something, anything else.

"I never said you have to reenact his faces Percy," Alex told him in exasperation. "Put the shame face away man, you did all you could."

"Yeah, I guess," Percy wanted to believe that anyways.

Then he turned and trudged off down the corridor until he was lost in the shadows.

Tyson sobbed.

"I lied, bring him back and stab him," Alex scowled, hands twitching for his garrote for anyone making Tyson cry.

"Maybe a tad extreme," Magnus put a cautious hand on his shoulder.

"It also disproves Nico's theory I can win any fight, because I sure didn't win that," Percy groaned. He wanted so badly to offer his brother comfort, but even back then he had no clue how.

"It's okay," Grover hesitantly patted his shoulder, which must've taken all his courage.

"I still say that was hitting Medusa, while blind, and flying," Jason grinned.

"Personal courage and battle courage aren't always the same," Thalia muttered.

Tyson sneezed. "It's not okay, goat boy. He was my hero."

"Grover should offer him a jar of peanut butter," Alex said, "nobody could be upset then."

"People allergic to peanut butter," Percy corrected.

"Have you met somebody with a nut allergy? Half of them live life on the edge and eat anyways for that stuff," Alex scoffed at his naivety.

I wanted to make him feel better, but I wasn't sure what to say.

"Never meet your hero's," Nico said casually.

Percy winced, and looked at him again. Percy had looked at him more today than he possibly had their entire time knowing each other.

Nico met those sea green eyes with a sense of relief he'd finally said it out loud for the first time. Not everything, like The Word, he still felt a cold chill run through him every time he realized he'd said that out loud, but it got slowly better every time he realized he did. Like a tight muscle unclenching itself after years of being knotted. As bad as it was for Tyson to learn, Will and Alex had been right. It was still better to know and feel the disappointment than live in ignorance forever.

Finally Annabeth stood and shouldered her backpack. "Come on, guys. This pit is making me nervous. Let's find a better place to camp for the night."

"Reason number 33 she should lead all quests," Percy nodded in agreement. "I would have just stood there until we all fell asleep trying to think of something to say."

"It's okay Percy, nobody accused you of your great strength being rousing speeches," Thalia promised.

We settled in a corridor made of huge marble blocks. It looked like it could've been part of a Greek tomb, with bronze torch holders fastened to the walls.

"Did you cross over to Egypt?" Magnus asked wearily. "Because it sounds like you're sleeping in a pyramid, and I've had enough nightmares of being chased by mummies without you adding to them." The kids in his class used to laugh at him for thinking that 1999 movie was anything remotely scary like it was his fault!

"Pretty sure the Labyrinth is restricted to America," Percy said with a shrug like that was any help at all, and also, no real confidence in that statement.

It had to be an older part of the maze, and Annabeth decided this was a good sign.

"We must be close to Daedalus's workshop," she said. "Get some rest, everybody. We'll keep going in the morning."

"Which means it's probably going to change to the modern equivalent of an art deco building when you wake up," Jason frowned.

"You and Annabeth can compare architecture tips later," Percy groaned.

"How do we know when it's morning?" Grover asked.

"When you all wake up together and happy," Will said, but the awkward laugh that followed was a little to real considering they'd all been living that problem themselves for the past few days under the ocean.

"Just rest," she insisted.

Grover didn't need to be told twice. He pulled a heap of straw out of his pack, ate some of it, made a pillow out of the rest, and was snoring in no time.

"Have I mentioned how awesome that is," Magnus grinned. "We could eradicate homelessness if more people were part goat."

"You heard it here first folks, genetic experimentation to turn all people into greek myths," Alex spoke into an invisible microphone, then tipped it towards Magnus. "Tell us, who would be your first test subject?"

Magnus hesitated for a moment, he really should have thought about that one first and not said anything, but it would be worse for himself if he didn't. And this wasn't just something he'd want to laugh off. So he looked him in the eyes and said, "anybody who denies there's a homeless problem."

Alex grinned and tipped the 'microphone,' back towards himself. "Great answer. Back to you Jason!"

"What did we say about eradicating news broadcasts?" Percy asked in exasperation.

"Only the nonimportant ones that don't check their facts," Alex grinned.

Tyson took longer getting to sleep. He tinkered with some metal scraps from his building kit for a while, but whatever he was making, he wasn't happy with it. He kept disassembling the pieces. "I'm sorry I lost the shield," I told him. "You worked so hard to repair it."

Tyson looked up. His eye was bloodshot from crying. "Do not worry, brother. You saved me. You wouldn't have had to if Briares had helped."

"He was just scared," I said. "I'm sure he'll get over it."

"He is not strong," Tyson said. "He is not important anymore."

"Note to self, start lifting weights," Thalia mock whispered and doodled on her palm, before smacking said invisible piece of paper on Percy's chest.

He brushed it off with an exasperated look at her, but didn't try to fight off a smile.

He heaved a big sad sigh, then closed his eye. The metal pieces fell out of his hand, still unassembled, and Tyson began to snore.

"Now that is a magical ability I bet plenty of people would volunteer to be willing to undergo experiments to do," Jason said.

"Depends on how optional the snoring is," Percy shrugged.

I tried to fall asleep myself, but I couldn't. Something about getting chased by a large dragon lady with poison swords made it real hard to relax.

Will stroked an imaginary beard as if in deep contemplation before snapping his fingers. "Then maybe don't do that again!"

"It wasn't voluntary!" Percy yelped.

"He says, as if he couldn't have turned right back around when he found himself in a prison cell," Jason rolled his eyes.

"To be fair," Thalia said of herself as much as him, "I don't think it's humanly possible to not be curious and look around when you pop up somewhere."

"It is if you don't want to die and or be chased by a large dragon lady with poison swords," Magnus frowned.

"Well look at you and your cushy life," Percy grinned.

I picked up my bedroll and dragged it over to where Annabeth was sitting, keeping watch.

Magnus fought the urge to cover his ears and start humming very loudly. They weren't old enough to have anything resembling a conversation that should warrant that. Yet.

I sat down next to her.

"You should sleep," she said.

"Can't. You doing all right?"

"Sure. First day leading the quest. Just great."

"We'll get there," I said. "We'll find the workshop before Luke does."

She brushed her hair out of her face. She had a smudge of dirt on her chin, and I imagined what she must've looked like when she was little, wandering around the country with Thalia and Luke. Once she'd saved them from the mansion of the evil Cyclops when she was only seven. Even when she looked scared, like now, I knew she had a lot of guts.

Magnus read that with a sense of longing that seemed strange to the others. He wished he could sit around and talk to Thalia and Percy about that time, hear more about her life outside of what Percy had gleaned.

It didn't feel like his business to ask of others though. He wanted to ask her first if she even wanted some weird kid in her life that was part of a family she clearly was on rocky terms with.

"I just wish the quest was logical," she complained.

"It really does sound like the worst scenario for her," Jason agreed with a pained grimace. "Like a real life greek myth, she finally got her wish and it's just mocking her."

"Jason, all Greek tragedy's were real," Percy reminded a tad smugly.

"I'm going to make your death a mystery," he rolled his eyes.

"I mean, we're traveling but we have no idea where we'll end up. How can you walk from New York to California in a day?"

"And without any bathroom breaks," Will agreed in awe. "That's got to be some kind of record."

"Who says I didn't stop and use the little Poseidon's room in that waterfall?" Percy said way to nonchalantly for that to be a joke. "It went straight down to Tartarus after all, and the automatic flushing was nice."

The others groaned while Thalia told Will, "you walked right into that one. Did you really think he wouldn't follow through on that set up?"

"Lesson learned," he promised.

"Space isn't the same in the maze."

"I know, I know. It's just..." She looked at me hesitantly. "Percy, I was kidding myself. All that planning and reading, I don't have a clue where we're going."

"You guys never know what you're doing and it works out," Thalia cheerfully waved off.

Percy gave her a strange, lingering smile as Jason read.

"You're doing great. Besides, we never know what we're doing. It always works out.

"Dammit," she sighed before they both started snickering.

Remember Circe's island?"

She snorted. "You made a cute guinea pig."

"And Waterland, how you got us thrown off that ride?"

"I got us thrown off? That was totally your fault!"

"It was literally her fault with that maximum height nonsense!" Alex argued. Mostly because they suspected he just liked to argue.

"Percy started it with dumping all that water into the ride to escape the spiders," Magnus cheerfully reminded on behalf of his cousin.

They probably would have gone on like that, like they all needed a live reenactment of Percy and Annabeth bickering. Jason had the good sense to clear his throat and silently remind them now wasn't the time.

"See? It'll be fine."

She smiled, which I was glad to see, but the smile faded quickly.

"Percy, what did Hera mean when she said you knew the way to get through the maze?"

"Lies and hypocrisy I assume," Alex scowled anew.

"Did she really show up to sow dissent between you guys?" Magnus sounded more troubled than Jason did about how these gods worked sometimes.

"I mean, that is a thing she would do," Nico said callously while Percy thumped his pen against his temple in frustration. "This time though, I honestly think it might have been meant as a helpful hint." Certainly more than he'd ever gotten, but if this was the kind of help he would have received he was just slightly grateful none of the gods had tried.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Honestly."

"You'd tell me if you did?"

"You have literally never tried to hide anything from her," Magnus said critically. "I can't imagine you starting now."

"Thanks man," Percy grinned. It felt nice sometimes to always be confident someone so like Annabeth saw the best in him too.

"Sure. Maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe if you told me the last line of the prophecy, it would help."

"And maybe if I told you what a binturong was you'd be able to cure cancer," Will snorted.

"What's a binturong?" Percy asked blankly.

"Don't change the subject," Thalia tisked at him, already knowing that was a lost cause trying to get him to pay attention to one thing at a time.

Annabeth shivered. "Not here. Not in the dark."

"What about the choice Janus mentioned? Hera said—"

"Stop," Annabeth snapped.

Percy sat back in his seat with a troubled sigh. She'd never snapped at him to shut it before. Their first fight? Or did that whole Athena hates Poseidon thing count first-

He was distracted from that as Magnus kept going in the slightly awkward pause.

Then she took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Percy. I'm just stressed. But I don't...I've got to think about it."

Nico felt the oddest sensation yet for her since he'd been down here. Sympathy.

Not quite pity, she had Percy to talk to about all of her problems if she wanted. He was still wrapping his head around the fact Alex and Will had bothered to talk to him. No, it was the recent knowledge of how overwhelming the thoughts in your head could be and knowing you needed to sit with them and yet having no where to start, no way to sort them out that didn't leave you in a mess.

He hoped she did talk to Percy about what was bothering her before it overwhelmed her. He wouldn't wish his confusing life on anyone.

We sat in silence, listening to strange creaks and groans in the maze, the echo of stones grinding together as tunnels changed, grew, and expanded.

The dark made me think about the visions I'd seen of Nico di Angelo, and suddenly I realized something.

"Nico is down here somewhere," I said. "That's how he disappeared from camp. He found the Labyrinth. Then he found a path that led down even farther—to the Underworld. But now he's back in the maze. He's coming after me."

"I guess I should have been more worried what kind of take me out he was going to do," Percy said glibly. He'd never realized you could assassinate someone or have them out for dinner with just one word.

Nico looked at him terrified, like Percy was going to snap his fingers and crush all his bones. Percy just gave him the least awkward smile yet, he'd thought a joke would help lighten the mood.

Thalia elbowed him, hard, while Jason and Magnus looked on with pure confusion. "What?" Percy protested.

"Percy, not everybody's so casual about, um, whatever you and Nico talked about," Thalia whispered to him.

"What?" He was more confused than anything, but he still felt a blush coming back. "Why? Will and Alex are both weirdly okay with whatever they say?"

"But not everybody is," she hissed quietly right by his ear. "Just, wait for him to say anything first before you do."

He had no clue what she was getting at, but he shrugged and let it go.

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "Percy, I hope you're wrong. But if you're right..." she stared at the flashlight beam, casting a dim circle on the stone wall. I had a feeling she was thinking about her prophecy. I'd never seen her look more tired.

Percy knew that feeling intricately. Sitting in the back of a truck with abused animals and gnawing over what could be so much it made everything hopeless while you stumbled into the next catastrophe.

Annabeth had never let him down on his quest though, and he was determined he would do the same for her.

"How about I take first watch?" I said. "I'll wake you if anything happens."

Annabeth looked like she wanted to protest, but she just nodded, slumped into her bedroll, and closed her eyes.

There had been so little light in that tunnel, his brain had been going haywire all night over the smallest noise. He'd flicked a spider off her at one point before she had to wake up and realize that. Her tangled blonde curls kept tickling her neck and she'd moved and brushed at them in her sleep, smudging that dirt on her cheek as she muttered.

He probably wasn't that good at guard duty, looking back.

When it was my turn to sleep, I dreamed I was back in the old man's Labyrinth prison.

"What's a level above a 3D experience?" Magnus looked at him tragically. "Percy's over here living a double life being in this place two times at once and it's depressing."

"You're telling me," Percy agreed with a thankful smile all the same. Anybody else giving him that pitying look would have made him uncomfortable, but Magnus seemed genuinely sorry for him.

It looked more like a workshop now. Tables were littered with measuring instruments. A forge burned red hot in the corner. The boy I'd seen in the last dream was stoking the bellows, except he was taller now, almost my age.

"That awkward moment where I'm not sure if I'd take juvie or this?" Alex grumbled. The freedom to be able to work in a prison was not something he'd tolerate though under any circumstances, so it was a moot point.

A weird funnel device was attached to the forge's chimney, trapping the smoke and heat and channeling it through a pipe into the floor, next to a big bronze manhole cover.

It was daytime. The sky above was blue, but the walls of the maze cast deep shadows across the workshop. After being in tunnels so long, I found it weird that part of the Labyrinth could be open to the sky. Somehow that made the maze seem like even a crueler place.

Magnus had thought much the same the first time he heard it. He lived the feeling every day of seeing everything he'd never have again as he pulled his jacket tighter around him.

The old man looked sickly. He was terribly thin, his hands raw and red from working. White hair covered his eyes, and his tunic was smudged with grease. He was bent over a table, working on some kind of long metal patchwork—like a swath of chain mail. He picked up a delicate curl of bronze and fitted it into place.

"Done," he announced. "It's done."

He picked up his project. It was so beautiful, my heart leaped—metal wings constructed from thousands of interlocking bronze feathers. There were two sets. One still lay on the table. Daedalus stretched the frame, and the wings expanded twenty feet. Part of me knew it could never fly. It was too heavy, and there'd be no way to get off the ground. But the craftsmanship was amazing. Metal feathers caught the light and flashed thirty different shades of gold.

Thalia shuddered at those things being strapped to her back, but Alex's breath caught in his throat at the beautiful imagery. He could turn into a golden bird if he wished, and yet the craftsman ship of somebody making the painstaking effort in those lit a unique fire in him to long and try the same.

The boy left the bellows and ran over to see. He grinned, despite the fact that he was grimy and sweaty. "Father, you're a genius!"

The old man smiled. "Tell me something I don't know, Icarus.

"Why do I know that name?" Magnus frowned. It was one of those moments he swore he'd heard through osmosis, something circled and passed around in word of mouth he'd swear he had no attachment to.

"Not sure," Percy agreed, "but a kid named Ick- anything must be happy to at least have some isolation from other kids."

Jason snorted in surprise while Thalia sighed in exasperation at the idiot.

Now hurry. It will take at least an hour to attach them. Come."

"You first," Icarus said.

The old man protested, but Icarus insisted. "You made them, Father. You should get the honor of wearing them first."

The boy attached a leather harness to his father's chest,

This boy adored his father, which left a strange silence in the room as Magnus read over that. Not one of them knew that feeling. Most of them barely had a relationship with their dad if they talked at all.

like climbing gear, with straps that ran from his shoulders to his wrists. Then he began fastening on the wings, using a metal canister that looked like an enormous hot-glue gun.

"And you said I didn't have any hand to scar knowledge," Percy grinned. "Try helping your mom out with some arts and crafts project and see if you come away without one of these," he prodded his ring finger where a slight discoloration of skin was, right below a sizeable deep scar from one of his early sword practices.

Or, it used to be.

"I would never accuse a kid like you of not knowing about hot-glue Percy," Alex grinned. "Your mom probably banned you from using them too early in life."

"A successful win, glad you know me so well," he chuckled, but it sounded choked up as he kept prodding at the flesh in his fingers that still moved like normal...yet he'd swear they were somebody else's hands for a moment. He knew that scar should have been there, Annabeth had told him to put water on it and he'd deliberately ignored her because a scar had sounded like the coolest thing to have in that moment...Were his memories coming back wrong...

Thalia had to nudge him again, hard, to get him to pay attention. He felt like he should have a bruise on his ribs by this point as often as she did that, but his creepy baby hands rubbed at the spot and somehow knew that wouldn't happen no matter how many times she did.

"The wax compound should hold for several hours," Daedalus said nervously as his son worked. "But we must let it set first. And we would do well to avoid flying too high or too low. The sea would wet the wax seals—"

"And the sun's heat would loosen them," the boy finished.

Magnus's mind nagged at him more stubbornly by the moment. A story about a boy who flew to close to the sun? He'd read an article once on where the idea was based on, and something of greek stories had played a part in it.

His stomach started sinking low as he put two and two together. There had yet been a Greek story that didn't end in tragedy.

"Yes, Father. We've been through this a million times!"

"One cannot be too careful."

"I have complete faith in your inventions, Father! No one has ever been as smart as you."

Thalia's stomach pitched unpleasantly. The gods never liked it when something like that was spoken into the air. The Fates themselves may have just sealed this boys fate before Athena could have concocted a plan.

The old man's eyes shone. It was obvious he loved his son more than anything in the world.

Alex studied the book intently for a few moments, annoyed that was an expression he could never replicate in a sculpture if he'd never actually seen it.

"Now I will do your wings, and give mine a chance to set properly. Come!"

It was slow going. The old man's hands fumbled with the straps. He had a hard time keeping the wings in position while he sealed them. His own metal wings seemed to weigh him down, getting in his way while he tried to work.

"I'm guessing this was a prototype experiment, maybe needs a few test runs before it's marketable," Jason muttered uneasily.

"I don't think his, um, investor is giving him much time to test the safety features," Thalia didn't need to remind him. If this wasn't a blatant escape attempt then there was a cake about to jump out of that bronze manhole cover.

"Too slow," the old man muttered. "I am too slow."

"Take your time, Father," the boy said. "The guards aren't due until—"

BOOM!

"That one wasn't me!" Percy said with a shaky attempt at a laugh that fell flat fast. The silence was starting to settle around them as they all expected his dream to end with the nightmarish image of someone's death.

The workshop doors shuddered. Daedalus had barred them from the inside with a wooden brace, but still they shook on their hinges.

"Hurry!" Icarus said.

BOOM! BOOM!

Something heavy was slamming into the doors. The brace held, but a crack appeared in the left door.

Daedalus worked furiously. A drop of hot wax spilled onto Icarus's shoulder. The boy winced but did not cry out.

Will winced horribly with him, wondering how much pain the poor boy had been through all these years to learn how to do that.

When his left wing was sealed into the straps, Daedalus began working on the right.

"We must have more time," Daedalus murmured. "They are too early! We need more time for the seal to hold."

"It'll be fine," Icarus said, as his father finished the right wing. "Help me with the manhole—"

CRASH! The doors splintered and the head of a bronze battering ram emerged through the breach. Axes cleared the debris, and two armed guards entered the room, followed by the king with the golden crown and the spearshaped beard.

"Well, well," the king said with a cruel smile. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm panicking right now and don't have a witty comeback for that," Percy admitted. He wanted to be in that cell, to hold off this horrible king and those guards while they escaped.

"Brave soul to admit that," Alex told him, just as impressed as if he had spouted some one-liner.

Daedalus and his son froze, their metal wings glimmering on their backs.

"I really hope he made a prayer to Zeus," Magnus muttered uneasily. "He sounds like he's really going to need all the help he can get." He found himself signing it, like he wished he hadn't had to say it out loud and jinx it. He missed Hearth.

He wasn't entirely sure why they were hearing about this either. He would have thought Percy would be dreaming of how Daedalus had created the maze and all its horrors. Why was the mans death so worthy of this nightmare?

"We're leaving, Minos," the old man said.

King Minos chuckled. "I was curious to see how far you'd get on this little project before I dashed your hopes. I must say I'm impressed." The king admired their wings. "You look like metal chickens," he decided. "Perhaps we should pluck you and make a soup."

"Maybe he'd like a pair of his own?" Nico said with a nasty smile. "Chicken's cannibalize each other. Daedalus would probably be more than happy to make a parting pair so he could join."

"Two sentences I'm sure have no relation to each other," Percy said with a strange look at him as usual when this king was brought up. The flash of outrage that always passed over Nico felt really personal and always amped Percy's headache up to eleven.

The guards laughed stupidly.

"Metal chickens," one repeated. "Soup."

"Shut up," the king said. Then he turned again to Daedalus. "You let my daughter escape, old man. You drove my wife to madness. You killed my monster and made me the laughingstock of the Mediterranean. You will never escape me!"

"All crimes I'm so sure this ass hole had no part of the fault in whatsoever," Jason scowled.

"That bad luck stuff really does come in threes," Percy chuckled. "Maybe he'll get lucky and a drought will come along so he can blame all his problems on the weather next."

Icarus grabbed the wax gun and sprayed it at the king, who stepped back in surprise. The guards rushed forward, but each got a stream of hot wax in his face.

Alex made a humming noise of pleasure and Magnus swallowed uneasily at the vivid mental image of him doing that to someone who next annoyed him.

"The vent!" Icarus yelled to his father.

"Get them!" King Minos raged.

Together, the old man and his son pried open the manhole cover, and a column of hot air blasted out of the ground. The king watched, incredulous, as the inventor and son shot into the sky on their bronze wings, carried by the updraft.

"Shoot them!" the king yelled, but his guards had brought no bows. One threw his sword in desperation,

"With hot wax in his face?" Thalia sounded incredulously impressed. "I hope that man got a promotion for dedication."

"Or more likely was beheaded first," Nico grumbled.

but Daedalus and Icarus were already out of reach. They wheeled above the maze and the king's palace, then zoomed across the city of Knossos and out past the rocky shores of Crete.

Icarus laughed. "Free, Father! You did it."

The boy spread his wings to their full limit and soared away on the wind.

"Wait!" Daedalus called. "Be careful!"

But Icarus was already out over the open sea, heading north and delighting in their good luck. He soared up and scared an eagle out of its flight path, then plummeted toward the sea like he was born to fly, pulling out of a nosedive at the last second. His sandals skimmed the waves.

Thalia looked a tad green around the edges of that being described in such vivid detail. Jason looked downright envious, it sounded magical and something he had a funny feeling he'd dreamed about doing in another life he might actually remember.

"Stop that!" Daedalus called. But the wind carried his voice away. His son was drunk on his own freedom.

Will was wincing over every other word though. This story was probably still so popular as a cautionary tale to listen to your parents, look both ways before crossing the streets no matter how sure you were. Will heard it as the boy having to much faith in his father's abilities. Either way you looked at it, this boy had not deserved such a miserable life only to die like that.

The old man struggled to catch up, gliding clumsily after his son.

They were miles from Crete, over deep sea, when Icarus looked back and saw his father's worried expression.

Icarus smiled. "Don't worry, Father! You're a genius! I trust your handiwork—"

The first metal feather shook loose from his wings and fluttered away.

There wasn't much shock, or a bunch of falsities this story was going to end happily ever after. Magnus read somberly, there was a sense of gentleness in the way he read that indicated this wasn't the first tragic story he'd heard and knew the right way to control his voice.

Then another.

Icarus wabbled in midair. Suddenly he was shedding bronze feathers, which twirled away from him like a flock of frightened birds.

"I feel the need to give a hats off one more time to whoever it is describing that, glorious, mental image," Alex said in a very restrained voice holding back awe, and laughter. He felt a little bad, this was a real kid that had really died, but also that was just to vivid an image to be expressed in only words. His hands ached for some clay to somehow memorialize that, as he was sure some Greek had once done.

"Icarus!" his father cried. "Glide! Extend the wings. Stay as still as possible!"

But Icarus flapped his arms, desperately trying to reassert control.

The left wing went first—ripping away from the straps.

"Father!" Icarus cried. And then he fell, the wings stripped away until he was just a boy in a climbing harness and a white tunic, his arms extended in a useless attempt to glide.

I woke with a start, feeling like I was falling.

Percy fought off the urge to startle in his seat now as he rubbed at his thudding heart, that bronze battering ram might as well have been pounding against his ribs. Maybe he'd been wrong before. He should be more grateful about the nightmares where his pants try to eat him.

The corridor was dark. In the constant moaning of the Labyrinth, I thought I could hear the anguished cry of Daedalus calling his son's name, as Icarus, his only joy, plummeted toward the sea, three hundred feet below.

Nico sighed as he studied his boots and imagined the rest of that kids passing. He was probably still in the Fields of Asphodel for all eternity, having lived an unremarkable life, but moments like this made him wish there was another option.

He'd been no hero, so there was no way he'd get into Elysium, but he'd also never been given a chance. He'd just had a miserable life, and it shouldn't just be the hero's who deserved to try for better.

There was no morning in the maze, but once everyone woke up and had a fabulous breakfast of granola bars and juice boxes,

"You guys are way to young to be eating old people food for breakfast," Alex sighed. "Where's the soda and cake because nobody can't tell you not to? Where's the vodka?"

"Alex's potential alcoholic sugar rush aside," Will said with his eyes closed like the idea physically pained him, "I for one am glad to see Annabeth is a smart packer!"

we kept traveling. I didn't mention my dream. Something about it had really freaked me out, and I didn't think the others needed to know that.

"Not seeing how it would have helped much," Jason agreed warily, "but I still think you should have. It might not have shined a light on your path problem, or anything, but it's still better to get off your chest, and maybe Annabeth would have opened up too."

"And you share every thought that comes to your mind huh?" Percy asked glumly. "Between the terrified peeps Grover kept making for every step we took and Annabeth muttering to herself about which way to go, I didn't want to break the awesome symphony they had going."

Jason wasn't going to keep arguing the point, he just wished Percy understood Annabeth might have liked for her troops to know they could confide any little thing in her.

The old stone tunnels changed to dirt with cedar beams, like a gold mine or something. Annabeth started getting agitated.

"This isn't right," she said. "It should still be stone."

"Why?" Magnus asked in ever growing concern why she still thought any of this should make sense.

"Dirt is the oldest thing on the planet, isn't that an even better path to lead to the oldest workshop?" Alex agreed.

Nobody was so much ignoring their questions, they just didn't have a good answer.

We came to a cave where stalactites hung low from the ceiling. In the center of the dirt floor was a rectangular pit, like a grave.

"Frankly I'm surprised you haven't come across more people deciding to just start digging their own graves," Will admitted with itchy skin. He probably would have if he'd been stuck in that Labyrinth.

Grover shivered. "It smells like the Underworld in here."

"I never really thought cemeteries would smell like pleasant mangroves, but thanks for the confirmation," Percy muttered.

Then I saw something glinting at the edge of the pit—a foil wrapper. I shined my flashlight into the hole and saw a half-chewed cheeseburger floating in brown carbonated muck.

"Nico, we have got to work on your signature exit strategy," Alex told him. "You get points for originality, but that must take way to long to orchestrate, and the waste!"

"I like to think of it more as a really fancy calling card," Nico grinned. "I've been here and you should all know and fear me."

"Hey," Alex grinned and even gave him a finger gun. "Good one!"

"Nico," I said. "He was summoning the dead again."

Tyson whimpered. "Ghosts were here. I don't like ghosts."

"We've got to find him." I don't know why, but standing at the edge of that pit gave me a sense of urgency. Nico was close, I could feel it.

Nico looked around at him in mild concern. "If you start tracking me like a bloodhound you will regret it."

"I was hoping you had some fries left over," Percy admitted with a sheepish grin. He was just to relieved the kid was okay rather than the surge of urgency he'd had in that place.

I couldn't let him wander around down here, alone except for the dead. I started to run.

Nico seemed genuinely touched. He even gave Percy a brief smile, the friendliest expression Percy had ever seen on him. Percy immediately smiled back, really hoping all this awkward crush business had just blown over finally.

"Percy!" Annabeth called.

I ducked into a tunnel and saw light up ahead. By the time Annabeth, Tyson, and Grover caught up with me, I was staring at daylight streaming through a set of bars above my head. We were under a steel grate made out of metal pipes. I could see trees and blue sky.

"Are you in another prison underground?" Magnus asked in trepidation. "Is the whole labyrinth just going to lead you to every prison on the planet?"

"I, really hope not," Percy said with a blank stare.

Thalia made an awkward noise as she tried not to agree. It was certainly an imprisonment for those poor animals.

"Where are we?" I wondered.

Then a shadow fell across the grate and a cow stared down at me. It looked like a normal cow except with was a weird color—bright red, like a cherry. I didn't know cows came in that color.

"Where did you think strawberry milk came from Percy?" Jason said with way to much confidence, it actually threw Percy off for a moment before they both chuckled.

"Um, they kind of can," Alex agreed, "but not bright red. More of a deep red color."

"No, I mean like, Rachel's hair red, I am not kidding," Percy promised.

"So our options on the dude ranch are cute cow shows where they die their cattle rainbow colors, or fiery cows that are going to kill you," Magnus sighed.

Will fought hard to stifle a laugh he was pretty close on that second one.

"Maybe Bessie's parents are there," Alex chuckled.

The cow mooed, put one hoof tentatively on the bars, then backed away.

"It's a cattle guard," Grover said.

"A what?" I asked.

"They put them at the gates of ranches so cows can't get out. They can't walk on them."

"How do you know that?"

Grover huffed indignantly. "Believe me, if you had hooves, you'd know about cattle guards. They're annoying!"

"Poor Grover," Magnus agreed. "I wonder if he can walk over any grate, like those giant ones you see in store parking lots."

"I get the feeling Grover doesn't frequent grocery stores very much for that to be a problem," Thalia reminded.

I turned to Annabeth. "Didn't Hera say something about a ranch? We need to check it out. Nico might be there."

"She also said to keep going past the ranch," Nico supplied with perfect clarity and a very confused raised eyebrow. "You're really ignoring the one good bit of advice she gave you?"

"Like I'm going to take some goddess's advice that stressed out Annabeth so much," Percy scoffed, "we still need to have a talk!"

"Right," Nico agreed with another surprised smile.

She hesitated. "All right. But how do we get out?"

Tyson solved that problem by hitting the cattle guard with both hands. It popped off and went flying out of sight. We heard a CLANG! and a startled Moo! Tyson blushed.

"Sorry, cow!" he called.

There was just friendly laughter going around the room for a moment, along with Alex and Magnus sharing some odd signs about finishing an animal book of noises nobody else followed.

Then he gave us a boost out of the tunnel.

We were on a ranch, all right. Rolling hills stretched to the horizon, dotted with oak trees and cactuses and boulders. A barbed wire fence ran from the gate in either direction. Cherry-colored cows roamed around, grazing on clumps of grass.

"Red cattle," Annabeth said. "The cattle of the sun."

"I was joking about them being able to breathe fire too!" Magnus groaned.

"No, no, you were right on the money with that one," Will chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"They're sacred to Apollo."

"Holy cows?"

"Are the Greeks responsible for every old saying?" Magnus laughed in surprise. "Like if I say the phrase till the cows come home, are you going to tell me it's based on a myth?"

"Um," Thalia gave him an awkward smile rather than admit, yeah, probably.

"Exactly. But what are they doing—"

"Wait," Grover said. "Listen."

At first everything seemed quiet...but then I heard it: the distant baying of dogs.

Alex did a weirdly good reenactment of that like they needed a live performance.

Jason laughed hard in surprise, for some reason he just knew he had a misplaced fondness for hunting dogs Mrs. O'Leary hadn't quite struck in him.

The sound got louder. Then the underbrush rustled, and two dogs broke through. Except it wasn't two dogs. It was one dog with two heads. It looked like a greyhound, long and snaky and sleek brown, but its neck V'd into two heads, both of them snapping and snarling and generally not very glad to see us.

"Cool," Jason grinned wider than ever.

"Not in the slightest," Magnus muttered, fighting off the impulse to make the warding off evil gesture at the idea of this thing anywhere near him.

"Bad Janus dog!" Tyson cried.

Magnus had no choice but to laugh too though.

"Do you think one head sniffs out truth and the other lies?" Thalia tagged in.

Jason gave her a startled look, something of the description of this dog and that tied in well-

but Magnus kept reading quickly, his dislike of canines wasn't subtle, and he obviously didn't want to linger on this.

"Arf!" Grover told it, and raised a hand in greeting.

The two-headed dog bared its teeth. I guess it wasn't impressed that Grover could speak animal.

"It's like speaking to a New Yorker," Will offered. "Just because you learn the lingo doesn't mean you're welcome."

"Fair enough," Percy said with a bright-eyed thanks, nobody had ever explained it like that before.

Then its master lumbered out of the woods, and I realized the dog was the least of our problems.

He was a huge guy with stark white hair, a straw cowboy hat, and a braided white beard— kind of like Father Time, if Father Time went redneck and got totally jacked. He was wearing jeans, a DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS T-shirt, and a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off so you could see his muscles. On his right bicep was a crossed-swords tattoo. He held a wooden club about the size of a nuclear warhead, with six-inch spikes bristling at the business end.

"That is a very manly dude on this demon animal ranch," Magnus groaned, fighting off the urge to chuck the book away from him at the chapter title once again being way to accurate.

"I bet he makes good barbeque though," Alex said like he was still willing to give the place a chance if someone let him pet the animals.

"Heel, Orthus," he told the dog.

"He named his dog twilight?" Alex asked with a very concerning, twitching smile. "Well, given the pet, I'm sure I can guess which team he was on."

"We all have our secret hobbies," Magnus said with an eye roll, he really hoped that wasn't one Alex secretly liked.

The dog growled at us once more, just to make his feelings clear, then circled back to his master's feet.

"Um, good dog?" Will said meekly. "It's always nice to express your feelings."

"Maybe not the kind that make you want to cover your throat," Nico frowned, he'd been on the receiving end of those fangs getting a little to close.

The man looked us up and down, keeping his club ready.

"What've we got here?" he asked. "Cattle rustlers?"

"Just travelers," Annabeth said. "We're on a quest."

The man's eye twitched. "Half-bloods, eh?"

I started to say, "How did you know—"

"Well you don't look like cow rustlers," Thalia snorted.

Annabeth put her hand on my arm. "I'm Annabeth, daughter of Athena. This is Percy, son of Poseidon.

"Why the actual fridge fart did she introduce you with your parents?" Jason demanded. "That tends to cause more problems!"

Percy was to busy repeating a particular part of Jason's question to himself to answer while Thalia shrugged nonchalantly. "Dog might have sniffed it out, most monsters know anyways, no point in lying."

Grover the satyr. Tyson the—"

"Cyclops," the man finished. "Yes, I can see that." He glowered at me. "And I know half-bloods because I am one, sonny. I'm Eurytion, the cowherd for this here ranch. Son of Ares.

"I'm curious if that whole, forever grudging hate thing Ares has against you for beating him is passed on through some kind of psychic link to all his kids, not just the ones at Camp," Alex asked, miming a head explosion to emphasize his point.

"You just want to hear about someone meeting me and beating the tar out of me," Percy frowned in accusation.

"Trying to beat the tar out of you," Alex corrected. "You're not wrong, but that's not entirely why I want to know," Alex agreed.

"Well I couldn't guess," Percy said in exasperation.

You came through the Labyrinth like the other one, I reckon."

"The other one?" I asked. "You mean Nico di Angelo?"

"We get a load of visitors from the Labyrinth," Eurytion said darkly. "Not many ever leave."

Will sat up straight in his seat, no more jokes or tiffs about silly things like being afraid of a two-headed dog as he looked seriously from Nico to the book and back. Nico had last said he'd gotten caught, but no more. He really hadn't been that worried about it since he was right here, but now his Apollo-healer tingle started humming if they had actually hurt him while holding him there for however long until he got out.

"Wow," I said. "I feel welcome."

"They should put a mat out instead of some old cattle guard," Alex agreed.

The cowherd glanced bend him like someone was watching. Then he lowered his voice. "I'm only going to say this once, demigods. Get back in the maze now. Before it's too late."

The short, sharp breath that escaped Nico wasn't his first in this room. He'd almost come to expect it in regards to Percy, the boy he'd actually known nothing about really.

This moment caught him off guard anew. That Percy could have run and come back when the quest was over. That he'd followed his impulsiveness to come find him but still had the chance to turn around.

"We're not leaving," Annabeth insisted. "Not until we see this other demigod. Please."

And they didn't. Neither Percy or Annabeth. With everything else weighing heavier on the line, they actually picked him at that moment.

Eurytion grunted. "Then you leave me no choice, missy. I've got to take you to the boss."

"If this guy's just the grunt, how big is the boss going to be?" Magnus frowned.

"You really want to know that?" Alex asked in surprise.

"No," he sighed, "but we're going to find out anyways."

"Well then you can either cover up your ears and ignore it all or make up a lie for yourself in the meantime," Alex scoffed.

I didn't feel like we were hostages or anything.

"And the amount of exposure you've had to that feeling makes me confident in your verification of that," Jason sighed.

"I always wanted an adventurous life," Percy shrugged.

Eurytion walked alongside us with his club across his shoulder. Orthus the two-headed dog growled a lot and sniffed at Grover's legs and shot into the bushes once in a while to chase animals, but Eurytion kept him more or less under control.

We walked down a dirt path that seemed to go on forever. It must've been close to a hundred degrees, which was a shock after San Francisco. Heat shimmered off the ground. Insects buzzed in the trees. Before we'd gone very far, I was sweating like crazy. Flies swarmed us. Every so often we'd see a pen full of red cows or even stranger animals. Once we passed a corral where the fence was coated in asbestos. Inside, a herd of fire-breathing horses milled around. The hay in their feeding trough was on fire. The ground smoked around their feet, but the horses seemed tame enough. One big stallion looked at me and whinnied, columns of red flame billowing out his nostrils. I wondered if it hurt his sinuses.

"I'm sensing a theme," Alex said with interest.

"If Orthus isn't immune to flames then I don't know how they get the herding done around there," Magnus said curiously, "unless they have a separate fire breathing dog just for that and Orthus is security."

"I just want to know what happens when you milk them," Jason chuckled. "Is that were the lava at camp comes from?"

Percy laughed along with them like he didn't have a care in the world.

"What are they for?" I asked.

Eurytion scowled. "We raise animals for lots of clients. Apollo, Diomedes, and...others."

"Like who?"

"No more questions."

"Are we really surprised?" Thalia scoffed. "If he was going to tell you his entire clientele he'd already be bragging about it."

"He didn't really answer my question," Percy insisted, "you know I'd never let something like that go."

Finally we came out of the woods. Perched on a hill above us was a big ranch house—all white stone and wood and big windows.

"It looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright!" Annabeth said.

"The building looks like a person?" Will squinted suspiciously.

"No, I think the guy is famous for organic architecture or something," Jason grinned. "I'm sure I've come across his name, though I have no clue why."

"The house is, edible?" Percy frowned. "It didn't look made out of candy and gingerbread."

"No, they're like, open, modern, utilize the best space," Jason said, his brow creasing with concentration as he tried to remember why he'd read about this. "Um, I think prairie dogs came up at one point?"

"We seriously need a book on what you've been up to," Thalia said, her selfish reasons aside in this case.

"Well, at least we're sticking with a farm theme," Will nodded like that was all the relief he needed.

I guess she was talking about some architectural thing. To me it just looked like the kind of place where a few demigods could get into serious trouble.

"Percy, that's every building you walk into," Magnus scoffed.

"I could put you in a rubber room and you'd find a way to make it explode," Alex agreed with pride.

No wonder he did so well on this very combustible farm, Nico kept to himself, and Percy didn't even explode anything. He was just in his natural element even out of the water.

We hiked up the hill.

"Don't break the rules," Eurytion warned as we walked up the steps to the front porch.

"He hasn't told us the rules yet!" Will protested like he expected the monsters to play fair.

"I guess he never got numb to the pretty scenery and was distracted," Alex rolled his eyes.

"No fighting. No drawing weapons. And don't make any comments about the boss's appearance."

"Oh," Thalia said in great exhaustion. "Percy's screwed."

Percy didn't bother to deny it, he was already tapping his pen against each knuckle with growing unease. Eurytion hadn't bothered him much, but something of this house was setting his instincts ablaze, and he had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with organic housing.

"Why?" I asked. "What does he look like?"

Before Eurytion could reply, a new voice said, "Welcome to the Triple G Ranch."

"Unless the triple stands for gay I don't think this is going to be any fun," Alex pouted.

"And here I was starting to delude myself the G stood for great," Magnus sighed. "Triple Great Ranch, where nobody almost dies!"

"Focusing on the wrong part of that," Thalia muttered low enough Percy couldn't hear.

The man on the porch had a normal head, which was a relief.

Percy wasn't phased by the smattering of snickers that covered the room. They were lucky they'd only had to hear the weirdness described.

His face was weathered and brown from years in the sun. He had a slick black hair and a black pencil moustache like villains have in old movies.

"What's with the evil mustaches in this book?" Will asked nervously, still watching Nico anxiously. He didn't seem particularly traumatized by this guy showing up again, but was back to fiddling with his ring uneasily. "Why can't someone be described with a friendly mustache like Santa?"

"Because nobody wants Nerus to come back," Percy rolled his eyes.

He smiled at us, but the smile wasn't friendly; more amused, like Oh boy, more people to torture!

"I dislike that you know that smile," Magnus groaned.

"It's the only way I've ever seen Mr. D smile," Percy shrugged.

I didn't ponder that very long, though, because then I noticed his body...or bodies. He had three of them. Now you'd think I would've gotten used to weird anatomy after Janus and Briares, but this guy was three complete people. His neck connected to the middle chest like normal, but he had two more chests, one to either side, connected at the shoulders, with a few inches between. His left arm grew out of his left chest, and the same on the right, so he had two arms, but four armpits, if that makes any sense. The chests all connected into one enormous torso, with two regular but very beefy legs, and he wore the most oversized pair of Levis I'd ever seen. His chests each wore a different color Western shirt—green, yellow, red, like a stoplight. I wondered how he dressed the middle chest, since it had no arms.

"People of different backgrounds don't always like their routines on display Percy," Jason rolled his eyes at him.

"That cannot be comfortable getting through your average doorway," Magnus frowned at this bizarre theme of mismatching body parts Percy had been coming across. "Guess that open floor plan was on purpose."

The cowherd Eurytion nudged me. "Say Hello to Mr. Geryon."

"Oh, triple Geryon, I get it," Alex grinned. Magnus just sighed in defeat and said, "yeah, that tracks."

"I'm done," Thalia raised her hands in exasperation at these boys!

"Hi," I said. "Nice chests—uh, ranch! Nice ranch you have."

"Percy, breaking the rules in one sentence," Will chuckled. "You really are a wonder of your own."

"Thank you," Percy grinned.

Before the three-bodied man could respond, Nico di Angelo came out of the glass doors onto the porch.

Will sighed in relief, he'd already been imagining him trussed up in the basement with fire-breathing feral cats or something.

"Bathroom break," Alex nodded in understanding. "Everybody needs that during a monster chase."

"I got caught by Eurytion who told me I needed to come with him," Nico told them in exasperation. Eurytion had actually offered to just keep on driving, but, well, he'd happily let himself be taken hostage too just like Percy for his own reasons. Huh, he'd never expected to be like Percy in this random way. "I agreed because I'd heard of him and needed to speak about, negotiations," he finished lamely. Nobody pressed him for details, they'd gotten mildly better at suppressing that not to hassle Percy to much, but he could feel their simmering curiosity like milk ready to boil over.

"Geryon, I won't wait for—"

He froze when he saw us. Then he drew his sword.

"See, Nico's breaking the rules too," Percy said with an accusing finger at him like that was the important part of somebody drawing a sword on you.

"It's not a competition Percy," Will sighed, "and Annabeth already started it and won regardless before the quest kicked off."

The blade was just like I'd seen in my dream; short, sharp, and dark as midnight.

Alex gave a very loud, longing sigh and flopped against the side of his couch as he gave Nico a hurt look.

"I don't see why you want to know how I got it so bad," Nico smiled at his theatrics. "You've never tried to find out how Annabeth or Grover got their reed pipes and knife."

"Oh, I will when I meet them," Alex promised. "I'm waiting to ambush Thalia about her shield when I can get a chance that doesn't involve her using it on me."

"If you jump out at me and scream boo, you will get a face full of Aegis," Thalia promised.

"See, bidding my time," Alex said with a very calculating look at Nico, who just chuckled.

Geryon snarled when he saw it. "Put that away, Mr. di Angelo. I ain't gonna have my guests killin' each other."

"But that's—"

"Percy Jackson," Geryon supplied. "Annabeth Chase. And a couple of their monster friends. Yes, I know."

"Monster friends?" Grover said indignantly.

Magnus twiddled his fingers uncomfortably as he wondered how Grover was supposed to be classified.

"That man is wearing three shirts," Tyson said, like he was just realizing this.

"I'd love to meet Tyson just to see what he says about me," Jason chuckled.

"That man is to smart to be this dumb," Percy helpfully supplied.

"I would have told you what he first thought about you, but now you can forget it," Jason huffed.

"No, wait-" Percy began to splutter, but Thalia gave them both sharp smacks to their knees to pay attention.

"They let my sister die!" Nico's voice trembled with rage. "They're here to kill me!"

"One of these things is not like the other," Percy said with a nervous chuckle.

"As opposed to a normal person, who would deny both claims," Alex said, framing his hands around Percy's face as if to capture such ineptitude.

Both Thalia and Percy winced hard, the guilt they felt in Bianca's sacrifice still very raw to be discussed.

"Sorry," Nico whispered again. "I know that was harsh, and not what happened now, and-"

"Nico, I don't blame you," Percy promised at once. If anything he still blamed himself plenty, prophecy be dammed. It was his idea Bianca had run off with. "You were just a kid, haven't you been listening? I really did just want to help!"

Nico gave him an understanding nod, but the dull feeling of pain from still being called a kid by him, the flash of nausea that raced through him when he still remembered what had come out of his mouth the last time he'd talked to Percy about this, and the ensuing pressure he still felt inside every time he heard his sister's name wasn't giving him a very eloquent response.

"Nico, we're not here to kill you." I raised my hands. "What happened to Bianca was—"

"Don't speak her name! You're not worthy to even talk about her!"

"What's the level of worthiness?" Alex was the only one who dared keep talking to him right now in anything resembling a light tone. "Just trying to get a scale on that?"

A flash of anger did burn through him, that this wasn't a joke, but he knew Alex didn't mean it like that. He'd never talked about his sister, he didn't know how.

Silence was his answer, but Alex wasn't deterred. He'd just try another way.

"Wait a minute," Annabeth pointed at Geryon. "How do you know our names?"

"I really stopped questioning that when Medusa did," Magnus shook his head.

The three-bodied man winked. "I make it my business to keep informed, darlin'. Everybody pops into the ranch from time to time. Everyone needs something from ole Geryon. Now, Mr. di Angelo, put that ugly sword away before I have Eurytion take it form you."

"It's not ugly!" Will said with a loud, nervous chuckle, his hands fidgeting around making calming gestures at nobody in here. He kept tickling the hair on the back of Nico's neck, and yet he didn't really have the urge to swat him away.

"Don't worry Will, I don't lose it at every insult," Nico sighed. His need had trumped his grudge for Percy, for the moment. He hoped Bianca had been around watching and smiled at that, he was already trying to live up to her wish without even knowing it.

Eurytion sighed, but he hefted his spiked club.

"I'm getting feelings of discontent," Jason said, sharp eyes clearly wondering if they could play these two against each other.

"What a strange child of Ares," Thalia agreed pleasantly.

At his feet, Orthus growled.

Nico hesitated. He looked thinner and paler than he had in the Irismessages. I wondered if he'd eaten in the last week. His black clothes were dusty from traveling in the Labyrinth, and his dark eyes were full of hate. He was too young to look so angry. I still remembered him as the cheerful little kid who played with Mythomagic cards.

Which hadn't changed much from the moment he'd been flung in here. Percy looked sharply away from him, his mind sucker punching him with guilt and memories he still hadn't tied together on how everything surrounding this kid seemed to have gone wrong.

Nico wanted to deny it. He wanted to summon an army of soldiers and dare anyone to call him weak and sad looking. He didn't want their pity!

But Will sighed, his arm across the back of the couch, his posture open, and exhausted. If Will had been talking to him this whole time out of some kind of pity, he couldn't find it. Alex tweaked his nose and gave him a knowing wink. The idea came across. 'I get it, life sucks.'

Reluctantly, he sheathed his sword. "If you come near me, Percy, I'll summon help. You don't want to meet my helpers, I promise."

"I believe you," I said.

"I really want you to hear what just happened Nico," Thalia chuckled. "This ding-dong has ignored gods, Chiron himself, and his mother every day of his life when she tells him to be safe. You, you he listened to without question."

"You mean putting the fear of death into you wouldn't work?" Percy rolled his eyes at her. He'd listened because he didn't want to try talking to Nico in front of these monsters and they needed to not kill each other until then.

Nico winced with guilt Percy had really believed that of him.

Geryon patted Nico's shoulder. "There, we've all made nice. Now come along, folks. I want to give you a tour of the ranch."

"Is there roasted peanuts involved?" Jason perked up at any mention of a tour.

"Athena set the bar to high," Magnus nodded, "I don't know how this guy is going to compete. I bet he won't even mention a snack bar."

Geryon had a trolley thing—like one of those kiddie trains that take you around zoos. It was painted black and white in a cowhide pattern. The driver's car had a set of longhorns stuck to the hood, and the horn sounded like a cowbell. I figured maybe this was how he tortured people. He embarrassed them to death riding around in the moo-mobile.

"You wouldn't believe how scary that thing can look popping up in the labyrinth," Nico scowled.

Magnus spluttered painfully as he tried to subdue a laugh, shaking his hands and gasping, "sorry! I believe you!" His face was turning red, he was probably signing to stay coherent like Nico actually understood that. "Just imaging that ghost getting freaked out by-" he had to stop and catch his breath.

Nico sighed and chuckled good-naturedly. Will even nodded beside him and said, "well I'm glad, I was worried you were dragged there kicking and screaming. This seems, less, um, bad?"

"I knew who Geryon was and wanted to make a deal," Nico nodded, not enlightening the others Minos had mentioned him as a potential ally. "I can't say I, regret, getting in," he sighed all the same his sister had finally shown up because of this mess. They'd saved a bunch of silly farm animals. There were worse outcomes that could have happened.

Nico sat in the very back, probably so he could keep an eye on us.

"The strategic move," Jason nodded.

"Hey," Percy frowned, "neither of us actually want the other dead!"

"If this wasn't a circular room I'd be staked out in the corner from you nutjobs," Jason smirked.

Eurytion crawled in next to him with his spiked club and pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes like he was going to take a nap. Orthus jumped in the front seat next to Geryon and began barking happily in two-part harmony.

Alex chuckled and very much wondered if he could turn into that dog. Oh the fun he could have.

Annabeth, Tyson, Grover, and I took the middle two cars.

"We have a huge operation!" Geryon boasted as the moo-mobile lurched forward. "Horses and cattle mostly, but all sorts of exotic varieties, too."

"Peacocks?" Magnus asked hopefully.

"Monster peacocks, now we're in business!" Alex agreed. "Oh, x-ray eyes! No, no, they look at you and expose the color of your aura!"

"I immediately regret this," Magnus sighed. For one glorious, childish moment the image of getting in one of those things had made him think of riding that with his mom at the zoo.

We came over a hill, and Annabeth gasped. "Hippalektryons?

"She always says these words with such confidence," Percy grinned. "I want to know where she finds the time to figure out how to say it in the first place while reading about the world."

"I bet she secretly has to practice clapping the syllables for weeks," Magnus offered. "Like dilophosaurus," he said from experience.

"A, dolphin dinosaur?" Percy asked, vaguely recognizing the name.

"It's the dinosaur that could spit poison!" Magnus grinned. "Fun fact, its been proved they actually couldn't do that, let alone had a frill!"

"Oh, how lame," Percy said. He'd loved the t-rex the most, and feared to much saying that out loud in case some god got a wise idea to sick one on his life.

I thought they were extinct!"

"I've only ever heard of them as actual made up animals too," Thalia grinned in surprise. "Like the lock-ness monster back then, used to scare kids into behaving."

"That's adorable," Jason chuckled. Thalia smiled, he probably wouldn't think it was so entertaining if he knew the real monsters that had haunted them as kids.

At the bottom of the hill was a fenced-in pasture with a dozen of the weirdest animals I'd ever seen.

"You have clearly not been at the bottom of the ocean long enough to see a fangtooth fish. They live with dead eyes and you cannot convince me otherwise. Your dads kingdom makes ancient greek monsters look normal," Alex confessed.

Percy's brain flipflopped back and forth between the idea of a fish being scary and Alex knowing a fish he didn't before deciding on moving on.

Each had the front half of a horse and the back half of a rooster. Their rear feet were huge yellow claws. They had feathery tails and red wings. As I watched, two of them got in a fight over a pile of seed. They reared up on their wings at each other until the smaller one galloped away, its rear bird legs putting a little hop in its step.

"That's adorable," Magnus couldn't help but agree with Will's little coo of excitement.

"I wonder if they're strong enough for Tyson to finally get that ride he wants," Percy nodded they weren't the craziest thing.

"Rooster ponies," Tyson said in amazement. "Do they lay eggs?"

"Once a year!" Geryon grinned in the rearview mirror. "Very much in demand for omelettes!"

"That's horrible!" Annabeth said. "They must be an endangered species!"

Geryon waved his hand. "Gold is gold, darling. And you haven't tasted the omelettes."

"Oooh, yeah, I hate him," Alex said in way to calm a voice for someone who was clearly now planning at least one major crime.

Will nibbled on his lip as he tried to offer, "there's clearly some kind of good balance? Ah, he's helping an endangered species stay alive enough to breed at least, that's more than they're getting being extinct? Baby steps?"

"No Will," Alex said in that continued eerie voice. "You don't get to optimistic your way out of this one."

"Right, yeah, I'll get the lighter fluid," Will agreed, and not just because those would be awesome to have around camp.

"That's not right," Grover murmured, but Geryon just kept narrating the tour.

"Now, over here," he said, "we have our fire-breathing horses, which you may have seen on your way in. They're bred for war, naturally."

"What war?" I asked.

"Any war," Jason gave him a strange look. "Sell those to some mortals and they'll just think they have a weirdly awesome murder horse that doesn't get hurt by flamethrowers." He had a funny feeling about this place. He was sure he'd never directly been, but something of this caused an annoying tick in his brain all the same.

"How about we not sit around discussing warfare," Thalia sighed. Considering camp was on the brink of one, it wasn't anyone's favorite subject right now.

Geryon grinned slyly. "Oh, whichever one comes along. And over yonder, of course, are our prize red cows."

Sure enough, hundreds of the cherry-colored cattle were grazing the side of the hill.

"So many," Grover said.

"Yes, well, Apollo is too busy to see them," Geryon explained, "so he subcontracts to us. We breed them vigorously because there's such a demand."

"For what?" I asked.

Geryon raised an eyebrow. "Meat, of course! Armies have to eat."

"Ugh, okay, that's disgusting," Will shivered. That was like eating a piece of his dads car tire. How could someone stomach even the thought of wanting to do that?

"So it's not okay when it's related to your dad?" Alex challenged.

"They're not related to me, that's not what sacred means," Will sighed. "I'm of the opinion you can't stop the world from being evil so you should try to make peace," he defended himself. "I'm also of the opinion this place is lucky it isn't raining plague arrows right now and my dad would not be happy about this so we should absolutely intervene before the whole place is set on fire and all the cute animals suffer. More."

"A compromise I won't ignore," Alex nodded.

"You kill the sacred cows of the sun god for hamburger meat?" Grover said. "That's against ancient laws!"

"And clearly nothing bad has happened to him," Percy muttered, his mind still on Chiron's dire warning about how many people were on this quest.

Jason still looked a little grumpy nobody had dumped an ancient library on his head so he could be studying all of this in depth like a psychopath.

"Oh, don't get so worked up, satyr. They're just animals."

"Anybody who ever says that deserves to be fed to animals," Thalia shook her head in disgust. "You know who never says that! Farmers who actually care and understand the balance and the welfare of what an animal needs in life!"

"How many black market animal traders have you guys shish kabobed?" Alex asked eagerly.

"Quite a few," Thalia said proudly, popping the collar of her silver jacket. "Stories I will proudly share."

Alex actually began rubbing his hands in excitement.

"Just animals!"

"Yes, and if Apollo cared, I'm sure he would tell us."

"If he knew," I muttered.

"The fact that he doesn't know is kind of getting to me right now," Nico admitted.

"Welcome to my world," Jason agreed. He'd lost track of what the gods did and didn't know and he was about to start making a list just to satisfy his peace of mind.

Nico sat forward. "I don't care about any of this, Geryon. We had business to discuss, and this wasn't it!"

"You are now the definition of someone who needs to stop and smell the roses," Magnus told him sympathetically. He'd been living a hard life and needed some fun, like a cute animal ride through a nice farm. Just not this one.

"Hard pass," Nico turned his nose up just because of his stepmother though.

"All in good time, Mr. di Angelo. Look over here; some of my exotic game."

"You were half right last time on the birds," Alex grinned at Magnus. "Going to take another shot?"

"I couldn't guess what was in there in a million years," he reminded.

The next field was ringed in barbed wire. The whole area was crawling with giant scorpions.

Causing the others to burst out laughing hard while Magnus threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Triple G Ranch," I said, suddenly remembering. "Your mark was on the crates at camp. Quintus got his scorpions from you."

"Quintus..." Geryon mused. "Short gray hair, muscular, swordsman?"

"Yeah."

"Never heard of him," Geryon said.

"Uhhu," Jason frowned, "and I'm a child of Neptune."

"We look nothing alike," Percy looked around in confusion. "Thalia could pass that off better."

"Yeah, because that's the weird part of what I said," Jason snorted.

"Could you two stay on one topic for five seconds," Thalia sighed.

"Well it's not like we know any more about Geryon or Quintus from this," Jason sighed. "So he bought some scorpions from a questionable ranch. The guy obviously gets around and wanted to impress the camp with a cool monster, and this is the kind of guy, um, monster who would sell his grandma for a penny. I'm not sold on anything."

"I'm now concerned this is where he got Mrs. O'Leary from though," Alex frowned. "Does he have a puppy mill somewhere in the back I am not going to like?"

"Let's just wait and see how this plays out," Thalia said. She honestly didn't know, though Annabeth had promised this place was being run by Eurytion and it was much better now so she hadn't gone to visit herself when she heard these atrocities. She didn't want Percy thinking to much ahead and remembering that though, let alone any other details, so was more than happy to keep them moving along.

"Now, over here are my prize stables! You must see them."

I didn't need to see them, because as soon as we got within three hundred yards I started to smell them. Near the banks of a green river was a horse corral the size of a football field.

Thalia smacked Percy with a very annoyed eye roll. "That field gets bigger every time this story gets told by the way. Last time I was around Camp, it was the size of Olympus."

Percy rubbed his arm with a confused smile. Hopefully all his friends hadn't died a very manly death on the dude ranch if it was a popular tale.

Stables lined one side of it. About a hundred horses were milling around in the muck—and when I say muck, I mean horse poop. It was the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen, like a poop blizzard had come through and dumped four feet of the stuff overnight. The horses were really gross from wading through it, and the stables were just as bad. It reeked like you would not believe—worse than the garbage boats on the East River.

Jason gagged at just the thought and covered up his nose. Alex, Magnus, and Nico had woken up in the worst of smelling places and still couldn't come close to imagining how the stench of that must have been vomit inducing, eye watering, disgusting beyond all words.

"You haven't been involuntarily shoved into a bathroom in this one yet," Thalia was waving her hand in front of her face like the book was letting out such an odor now. "I hope there's one handy around."

For once Percy couldn't even be annoyed at them for making that joke, if anybody needed a massive toilet it was those poor creatures.

Even Nico gagged. "What is that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, clearly hurt. "You think I go around sniffing corpses for fun?"

"You'd had this look on your face the whole time like I was about to start hacking pieces off of you," Percy said, a touch guilty, a little defensive. "Sorry to see you have a normal reaction to something."

He huffed and muttered but didn't protest further.

"My stables!" Geryon said. "Well, actually they belong to Aegas,

"Your shield owns horses?" Percy asked blankly.

"Aegas means cloaked, protection, and is most commonly associated with the word Zeus," Thalia shrugged.

"Oh, good, so it's not just Apollo who's prized animals are being mistreated. Equal opportunity and all that," Percy sighed.

but we watch over them for a small monthly fee. Aren't they lovely?"

"They're disgusting!" Annabeth said.

"Lots of poop," Tyson observed.

"The only takeaway we need from this place, as always, is delivered best by Tyson," Will sighed.

"How can you keep animals like that?" Grover cried.

"Y'all getting' on my nerves," Geryon said.

"Did he expect cheers and applause for these animals swimming in their own feces?" Magnus scowled. Horses he did like, and even if this was a pack of wolves, this was the definition of an inhumane environment.

"I hope he still does when I throw him in the nearest portapotty," Alex scowled.

"These are flesh-eating horses, see? They like these conditions."

"I'm not going to believe this guy," Magnus huffed. "Who knew a monster with three chests was heartless!"

Percy winced and gave him a strange look, but his vision went blurry and his headache didn't allow him a second of thought to wonder why.

"Plus, you're too cheap to have them cleaned," Eurytion mumbled from under his hat.

"Quiet!" Geryon snapped.

"Ooo, trouble in the dude paradise," Jason said with interest.

Percy let out a painful gasp and began rubbing at his forehead at that bouncing around his skull next, and Thalia placed a calming hand on his shoulder and a stern look at Magnus to finish.

"All right, perhaps the stables are a bit challenging to clean. Perhaps they do make me nauseous when the wind blows the wrong way. But so what? My clients still pay me well."

"Anything for that bottom line huh?" Percy asked with enough disgust to have his own manure heap packed in.

"What clients?" I demanded.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how many people will pay for a flesh-eating horse. They make great garbage disposals. Wonderful way to terrify your enemies. Great at birthday parties! We rent them out all the time."

"I find that very hard to believe, nobody would go near enough to this thing to be eaten by it, the way they smelled," Nico scoffed.

"Do monsters have birthday parties?" Magnus asked in surprise.

Alex doubled over laughing while Will grinned faintly in surprise. "I thought he meant mortal torture fests with kids mysteriously vanishing, but um, yeah Magnus, maybe."

"Monsters call in a celebration with beer and flesh-eating horses every time they come back?" Jason said ambiguously, with a very raised brow.

"I bet the invite list is really short notice," Percy chuckled along.

"I'll make it my mission to get on more," Thalia smirked, she and Percy high-fiving at the level of gatecrashing that would soon be involved if this was a thing.

"You're a monster," Annabeth decided.

Geryon stopped the moo-mobile and turned to look at her. "What gave it away? Was it the three bodies?"

"I try to overlook minor things like that," Percy scowled. "It was his shitty personality!"

"You have to let these animals go," Grover said. "It's not right!"

"And the clients you keep talking about," Annabeth said. "You work for Kronos, don't you? You're supplying his army with horses, food, whatever they need."

Geryon shrugged, which was very weird since he had three sets of shoulders. It looked like he was doing the wave all by himself.

Percy watched as those around him gave grudging laughs for that visual while their stomachs sank at finding an answer to a question they didn't have. Magnus had never sat around and assumed monsters needed to eat to stay alive like 'normal' animals and people, they just existed and chose to. Alex had sort of been assuming the Titan of Time could just make money appear at will for whatever he needed.

To hear that there was some kind of financial backer to all of this made it much more real, a new level to a threat they already had plenty of fear in without all of that.

"I work for anyone with gold, young lady. I'm a businessman. And I sell them anything I have to offer."

He climbed out of the moo-mobile and strolled toward the stables as if enjoying the fresh air. It would've been a nice view, with the river and the trees and hills and all,

Jason raised a disbelieving brow at the mention of a river in sight. Percy had once nearly flooded his own camp with one after a tiff with Thalia, where was that temper drowning Geryon now at all of this? He found himself impressed Percy seemed to grow up a little more every book, find a little more self control in him.

except for the quagmire of horse muck.

Nico got out of the back car and stormed over to Geryon. The cowherd Eurytion wasn't as sleepy as he looked. He hefted his club and walked after Nico.

"He could have at least left the club in the moo-machine," Will muttered, "you hadn't drawn your sword again."

Nico gave him a surprised smile, the sense of feeling his arm on the back of the couch had faded to a comfortable presence he was still getting used to.

"I came here for business, Geryon," Nico said. "And you haven't answered me."

"Mmm." Geryon examined a cactus. His left arm reached over and scratched his middle-chest. "Yes, you'll get a deal, all right."

"You haven't even told us how you were paying for the Happy Meals?" Alex asked. "How were you going to pay this guy for anything?"

"I was working on that," Nico said, doing well to keep the childish note out of his voice to hide he had no clue. He'd been basically making this up as he went along from Minos's outline.

"My ghost told me you could help. He said you could guide us to the soul we need."

"Wait a second," I said. "I thought I was the soul you wanted."

Nico looked at me like I was crazy. "You? Why would I want you? Bianca's soul is worth a thousand of yours!

Percy startled in surprise, and then smiled of all things. "That is the best reason I've ever heard for someone not wanting my soul!"

"You're, welcome," Nico muttered in surprise. He still kept expecting Thalia to launch a thousand questions at him over what he was doing, somebody to scold him and be disgusted he'd been willing to do this at all.

For now, it was just Percy touching his chest and smiling, and that was enough to not feel rejected again.

Now, can you help me, Geryon, or not?"

"Oh, I imagine I could," the rancher said. "Your ghost friend, by the way, where is he?"

Nico looked uneasy. "He can't form in broad daylight. It's hard for him. But he's around somewhere."

Geryon smiled. "I'm sure. Minos

"Minos?" Five people yelped so loud it seemed to echo to the walls and back again several times. The only person who hadn't was Thalia, and she looked plenty displeased anyways.

"The evil eyed, pointy beard king who locks people up is your tour guide!" Alex's hands were clearly itching for his garotte. "He needs to be killed properly, stat! Then we'll find the dumbass who didn't kill him properly the first time and do them next!"

Percy had Riptide drawn, the cap of his pen dancing innocently on the floor between his shoes as he sat in place but still looked ready to stab something. "I can't believe you ran away from camp to take advice from-"

There was all that anger Nico had long since been expecting, and his hackles instantly raised. "I didn't ask your opinion on this, or need it thrown in my face! Can you not shut it and just get through this!"

Percy opened his mouth in outrage, he was upset Nico was being manipulated! But the tension of the water was already building around them, and only a gentle clearing of Thalia's throat needed to be heard for now to remind him to clench his jaw shut. This had already happened, and if Nico didn't want to hear his opinion on something, then he should probably accept that lest the kid blurt out any more life confessions as he slowly bent to put the cap of his pen back over his sword.

likes to disappear when things get...difficult."

"Minos?" I remembered the man I'd seen in my dreams, with the golden crown, the pointed beard, and the cruel eyes. "You mean that evil king? That's the ghost who's been giving you advice?"

"It's none of your business, Percy!" Nico turned back to Geryon. "And what do you mean about things getting difficult?"

The three-bodied man sighed. "Well, you see, Nico—can I call you Nico?"

"No."

"You see, Nico,

"He needs to die. Like a lot," Alex scowled. He took nothing more personally than assholes who misgendered, misnamed, or bragged about being a douche.

"In more ways than you know," Nico said with a very satisfied smile for Alex, though neither of them spoke to loudly in case Percy took a hint as he scowled and still held his pen in hand like Minos was still creeping around in here.

Luke Castellan is offering very good money for halfbloods. Especially powerful half-bloods. And I'm sure when he learns your little secret, who you really are, he'll pay very, very well indeed."

Will made such a deep throated noise it actually sounded like a growl. Kids shouldn't be sold around like cattle! And Nico was more than just a powerful bargaining chip!

Nico was already feeling bad for his outburst at Percy, and realizing Will was actually upset on his behalf too made him feel even worse. "Sorry, Percy," he offered, not expecting Percy to accept it. "I, um-"

"It's cool," Percy shrugged with not a chip in sight. "I'm glad you like me better than the creep who would actually sell your soul."

"It's a thin margin," he grinned faintly in surprise while Percy immediately smiled back.

Nico drew his sword, but Eurytion knocked it out of his hand. Before I could get up, Orthus pounced on my chest and growled, his faces an inch away from mine.

Thalia's bow appeared in hand on instinct, no one in doubt she would have shot both of those heads without hesitation, and everyone in the room was starting to feel a little short of breath at all three of these guys finding themselves on edge. Their very presence overlapping each other made the molecules feel more volatile all of a sudden.

"I would stay in the car, all of you," Geryon warned. "Or Orthus will tear Mr. Jackson's throat out. Now, Eurytion, if you would be so kind, secure Nico."

The cowherd spit into the grass. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you fool!"

Eurytion looked bored, but he wrapped one huge arm around Nico and lifted him up like a wrestler.

Jason's hand clenched into such a tight fist it looked like his veins were spidery arcs trying to pop out of his arm. Like this maniac had no weapon except a weird gold coin and was willing to deck someone anyways. Magnus kept reading in the tense silence and hoped wanting to finish it wasn't a last-minute life goal as he shoved down his fight or flight instinct.

"Pick up the sword, too," Geryon said with distaste. "There's nothing I hate worse than Stygian Iron."

"So does that make it the absolute perfect weapon to kill him with?" Alex asked with could-not-fool a soul innocence. "Or are we supposed to find a way to kill him with money? I'm open to suggestions." The 'whatever it takes to get this guy dead,' went without saying.

"We can always start a list and just play around to see what works," Jason said in a very eerie kind of way, and Thalia's bow vanished as she looked at him in concern. She didn't disagree Geryon needed to die like any monster, but she did not like that cruel edge he got in his tone for it.

Eurytion picked up the sword, careful not to touch the blade.

"Now," Geryon said cheerfully, "we've had the tour. Let's go back to the lodge, have some lunch, and send an Iris-message to our friends in the Titan army."

"You fiend!" Annabeth cried.

Geryon smiled at her. "Don't worry, my dear. Once I've delivered Mr. di Angelo, you and your party can go. I don't interfere with quests. Besides, I've been paid well to give you safe passage, which does not, I'm afraid, include Mr. di Angelo.

"Paid by who?" Magnus yelped in surprise.

"Paid by whom?" Annabeth said.

"It's the correct grammar that really makes that sentence feel off," Magnus admitted, fighting off a grudging laugh.

"It's the fact that he's not going to answer that makes me not care," Percy scoffed.

"Well I sure do," Will's scowl seemed scarier the longer it lingered, all of the light in the room seemed to be sucking right towards him. "Who's paying for just some kids to get through and not all of them? Sorry Percy, you know I care about you, but I'm not okay with that!"

"Neither am I," Percy promised at once. "You really think I'll sit by and let that happen?" He asked casually, like he was asking Will what he had for lunch.

Will seemed mildly soothed by the reminder all the same, though the light went back to normal in the room with a little popping noise. Nico swallowed more shame and anger he'd needed help to get out of this. He'd survived in that labyrinth for months by himself. Percy had come around once, and he was back to being a useless kid.

"What do you mean?"

"Never you mind, darlin'.

Percy decided whatever bits he hacked Geryon into weren't small enough just for calling Annabeth that.

Let's be off, shall we?"

"Wait!" I said, and Orthus growled. I stayed perfectly still so he wouldn't tear my throat out. "Geryon, you said you're a businessman. Make me a deal."

Percy always knew he was doing something right when everybody looked at him in surprise like that. He smiled and fought off the urge to gag at the stench of dog breath still hot in his face.

Geryon narrowed his eyes. "What sort of deal? Do you have gold?"

"I've got something better. Barter."

"But Mr. Jackson, you've got nothing."

"You could have him clean the stables," Eurytion suggested innocently.

"I'll do it!" I said. "If I fail, you get all of us. Trade us all to Luke for gold."

"Assuming the horses don't eat you," Geryon observed.

"Either way, you get my friends," I said. "But if I succeed, you've got to let all of us go, including Nico."

"No!" Nico screamed. "Don't do me any favors, Percy. I don't want your help!"

"You didn't have to do that," Nico said again, more confused than he even had been to Will before. "I, wouldn't have helped Luke. I would have gotten out on my own, I work fine on my own."

"I would have done it for anybody Nico," Percy gave him a bizarre look for saying that at all. "I don't try to help you just because I feel guilty about your sister. You know that, right?"

"Right, yeah, I'm um, getting that," Nico promised awkwardly. He'd spent so long being mad at Percy and then so long avoiding him and then stuck here for what felt like an infernal lifetime now he probably didn't have a choice at this rate but to get used to him.

Geryon chuckled. "Percy Jackson, those stables haven't been cleaned in a thousand years...

"Hercules did it last time I believe," Will offered in some weird semblance of a peace offering and something nice to say while everybody was being held hostage now. "So it's not undoable."

"Great, let's see how I do a remix on that," Percy frowned anew, never pleased to hear his name again.

though it's true I might be able to sell more stable space if all that poop was cleared away."

"So what have you got to lose?"

The rancher hesitated. "All right, I'll accept your offer, but you have to get it done by sunset. If you fail, your friends get sold, and I get rich."

"Deal."

He nodded. "I'm going to take your friends with me, back to the lodge. We'll wait for you there."

"Err," Magnus really hoped he was just missing something in what he'd just read. Was that whole swearing on the Styx thing required to be said out loud? Because he didn't think this hillbilly dude to be a man of his word.

Percy looked so agitated though he decided not to bring it up, considering nobody had lost an eardrum yet to this latest debacle.

Eurytion gave me a funny look. It might have been sympathy.

"If this comes down to a vote, at least he'll be on your side whether the law agrees or not," Jason said.

"Seriously dude, are you like, in pre lawyer school or something?" Percy burst out in surprised laughter.

"I like to consider myself a good judge of character and taking in the terrain," Jason grinned.

He whistled, and the dog jumped off me and onto Annabeth's lap. She yelped. I knew Tyson and Grover would never try anything as long as Annabeth was hostage.

I got out of the car and locked eyes with her.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said quietly.

"I hope so, too."

"I hope so three," Thalia groaned. Here once again was Percy putting everything on the line in hopes he knew what he was doing. Good thing that always worked out or the world would be doomed.

Geryon got behind the driver's wheel. Eurytion hauled Nico into the backseat.

"Sunset," Geryon reminded me. "No later."

He laughed at me once more, sounded his cowbell horn, and the moo-mobile rumbled off down the trail.

"That is a weirdly menacing sentence," Magnus groaned as he began to hand the book to Alex. "I am sorry for laughing about that earlier Nico, and not just because Annabeth is in it now."

"Circumstances matter," Nico agreed nonchalantly.

#pjo #reading the books #fanfiction #Thalia Grace #Percy Jackson #Jason Grace #nico di angelo #will solace #alex fierro #magnus chase #fierrochase #solangelo #percabeth #big three kids #HDYSG

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