#I HAVE A PILE OF AMBROSIA SAVED FOR YOU THAN

[ambrosiasaladofthebrain]

Ambrosia Salad of The Brain

Ch 1: Meet Jake

The teacher’s note read like it usually did: “Nice Job” written under a circled 100% and a smiley face creating a small triangle of pen ink. Jake knew it was childish, it was because he was far younger than all of his classmates that his math teacher always left small notes of encouragement and excitement on his tests, but he supposed he didn’t care. He still cut each one out carefully before throwing out the test and placing the scrap onto the growing pile in the box he kept under his bed.

 He would show his sister the pile someday and she would be impressed with how well he had done. That day would probably be soon, hopefully soon. For now he would stack them until the box burst. With the ringing of the bell the school day came to a close and he scrambled to collect his things and leave before the mass of bigger students could trample him.

He was quick to make it to the front steps, wanting to double check his items before he left. Someone had stolen his first aid kit but he still had his second one which was good enough. There was a father a couple blocks from school who had started robbing from the richer district people who came to feel better about themselves and show off. These people often had bodyguards with some pent up emotions they needed to release. Jake couldn’t stop the man from doing what he could for his kid but he could apply his basic knowledge of first aid. He might be an amateur but where he lacked in practice he hoped his mind and memory made up for it. He supposed living in a hospital and watching professionals daily had to have upgraded his skills somewhat. 

He also needed the bread he had saved from lunch, a pack of rats had taken root in an alleyway he had to pass to get to the hospital and their attacks on random passerbyers were getting worse, as long as he threw them a good chunk of food however, they seemed to leave him alone. Simon had tried to protest Jake’s sharing of half his lunch with rats but he understood that certain measures had to be taken, and not a week later after the incident he had started carrying bread for a gang of rats on his block as well.

With his rusted swiss army knife prepared he was ready to walk home. He just needed to check in with Simon and Piet who were unusually late. They were usually at their meeting spot first, skipping their class to share a smoke, or, he thought they still smoked, they promised they had quit but they still carried packs and lighters and the smell never left their fingers and breath, nor their sweaters he needed to return.

“Hey kid!” Simon called as he left the building and hopped down the steps, tripping on a hole, and stringing a colorful display of words together as he stumbled to a stop. “‘Hey! Hey,” he corrected his volume with the second ‘hey’, looking apologetic, “Guess wha’ we got.”

“We?” Jake looked around, expecting to see Simon’s ‘better half’.

“Yeah, uh.” Simon looked around, before swearing again, “I lost her. No! The love of my life! Gone! Sorry, gone,” he corrected his volume again, really trying not to be so aggressively loud. “I’ll nev’a see ‘er again. Lost, to the chaos of the school, or maybe the lunch lady,” he shrugged, flopping down on the school steps, “Beauty like that will surely be missed, I’ll nev’a love anoth’a,” he clenched a fist to his chest, suddenly being tackled from behind

“That’s right you won't! But maybe I will! Leave your girlfriend to the demise a the lunch lady? She works out y’know. Too buff even fer me an’ you leave me! Ah Jake, ‘ey kiddo. how’d’yer test go?” Piet sobered down sitting on Simon’s back, pinning him to the ground as she reached for the 100% paper Jake handed her. “‘Ey, nice job, though I wasn’t all that worried, the one about explainin’ how ya did the work kept trippin’ ya up when we studied but ya’always pull through.”

“Thank you,” Jake blushed.

“I nev’a doubted ya either,” Simon added.

“Ah shut up,” Peit smacked his head lightly, “Anyway you got the goods?” 

“Duh,” Simon rolled his eyes, pushing Peit off and pulling a small cardboard box from his cardigan pocket. “Here ya are mister smarty pants.” He ceremoniously tossed the box to Jake who fumbled with it a moment before catching it properly and giving it a suspicious glance. 

“You didn’t,” He mumbled, cracking it open. “How? Where? The school doesn’t have a-”

“Eh I found some chips lyin’ ‘round an’, well, Peit has some chickens so we jus’ needed a stove ‘n a few other things,” Simon shrugged, Peit shrugging with him. 

Jake picked up the two chocolate chip cookies from the box, they were sloppy and a little flat, nothing like the images he had seen online but the last time he had had chocolate chip cookies had been with Zoey. He wondered if he could save one and find some milk but quickly shook the idea from his head remembering the growing prices.

“Thank you,” he whispered into the cookies, almost too quiet as he tried to stop the prickling of his eyes.

Piet let out a soft swear, raising a hand; “‘Ey don’t cry now, we were bored.”

“Yeah, it really wasn’ that hard even!” Simon added. 

“Or expensive, I mean, we stole most’a the stuff.”

“Sh!” Simon elbowed her, “No, we bought it, promise, promise,” He lied.

“Thank you,” Jake whispered again, breaking one of the cookies in half, then breaking that into two quarters, “Here.”

“We couldn’-” Piet began.

“Really?” Simon asked, “You sure?” He grabbed a quarter with excitement. Piet looked disgusted at him for a moment before taking her piece. The treat was dry and somewhat burnt yet uncooked all at once. It was very sweet, which was better than bitter Jake supposed, it would definitely benefit from a glass of milk though.

“Oh wow,” Piet coughed.

“You, don’ ‘ave to eat that Jake,” Simon grimaced, “I can throw that out.”

“No!” Jake held the small box close, glaring, “No, I’ll keep it, they’re not half bad.”

Simon’s watch on his outstretched hand buzzed, “I gotta get to work, you’ll be ok by yourself?”

“I walk every day by myself.”

“Doesn’ mean I can’t be worried.”

“You got your stuff?” Piet interrogated, “Books, pepper spray, pocket knife?”

Jake shuffled through his bag then pockets making a show of making sure it was all in place and hadn’t been stolen throughout the day despite having just done these actions moments ago, “Yep.”

“Alright. Get home safe bud,” She waved bye dragging Simon along with her.

Simon was still calling out to Jake; “I’ll be at the gate in the mornin’, and make sure to watch out for those rats, oh and cases of,” as they rounded the corner his calls disappeared with them. Jake giggled at them as he took another bite of his cookie and started his own walk. His first stop would be the rats and he needed to come up with good names for them.

He was still thinking of names for the rats when he left their alleyway. Rats are terribly smart creatures and Jake had always felt akin to them in some odd way. He was close to his next stop now, which meant he should get his swiss army knife ready. The Robber Father would never harm him but this wasn’t always his haunt, it was a very popular place for muggings to occur either way. However, while most let him by some people had become very desperate with the rising prices and crack down on crimes the President himself had initiated to help clean up the district.

Jake slowed, nearing the alley and peaking in. At first he didn’t see anyone but someone shifted in the pile of trash bags and Jake entered recognizing it as Robber Father. He squatted next to the man poking his arm with the dull knife. 

“Sir?”

The man groaned, sounding in pain, Jake scrunched his face looking for injuries. When he couldn’t outright see any stab wounds or broken bones Jake slapped the man's cheek, trying to wake him.

“Sir?” he called a bit louder.

This scene was reminding him a little too much of when he had found his sister. She had been warm, Jake felt the man’s forehead but his temperature felt normal enough. She had also coughed a lot as well as had a scratchy breath that seemed to tug at her throat, trying to stick to the sides. Jake brought his ear to the man’s mouth. His breath was soft if not slow.

“Siiiiirrrr!” Jake drew out his call, slapping the man's face repetitively.

“Wha? Who’s ther?” The man slew out, sitting up and focusing on Jake, “Oh, hey Doc, ‘ere for my checkup?” He rumbled as he sat up.

“What happened?” Jake asked, wanting to get to the point.

“Eh, this rich prick came into town lookin’ for trouble, I beat ‘em up but he got a couple hits to my stomach. Nother one’a those hit where it can’t be seen’ things, ya’know?” He lifted his shirt to show off the patchwork of bruising, “Could’a done better but I forgot to eat today.” He chuckled, Jake didn’t join him, rolling his eyes at the obvious lie. He pulled his gift box with the last half-a-cookie from his bag and handed it to the man before he could change his mind.

“Eh? Wha’s this?” Robber Father took it with a quizzical look, and gave a soft oh upon opening it, “A cookie? In this economy? Pretty impressive kid, you're basically the richest kid I’ve met now,” He went to hand the box back only for Jake to shove it back to him.

“You can have it, my frie-” Jake bit his tongue on the slip up, “Simon and Piet gave them to me, I already ate one, you have the rest.”

“The, ones who babysit ya at school?” Jake nodded. “They rich or somethin’?” “Nah, just stupid.”

Robber Father huffed a laugh, “Teenagers. My Rose ‘s turnin’ 14 soon y'know, you wanna come to the party?”

Was that a joke? When most kids invited him to a party it was usually to laugh moments later. Also people usually brought gifts to birthday parties and he had no money or anything to give.

“You don’t have to bring anythin’ kid, your, like, six-”

“I’m 8 (timephrame),” Jake informed, then realizing he’d interrupted quickly added a “Sorry!

“Point is, you wouldn’t need’ta bring anythin’, it’s next week, at that one park near the gas station with slushies, I can tell ya more details later if ya want?”

Jake nodded before looking at his watch, he needed to continue walking if he wanted to make it for the cafeteria’s dinner. He quickly waved goodbye and headed back out of the alley, pocketing his knife.

By the time he made it to the hospital the cafeteria was bustling. Jake quickly grabbed his food, it was watery soup and bread today, before leaving the loud area.

Jake balanced his meal tray in one hand to knock on Zoey’s door. After a beat of silence he opened the door.

“Hey Z! I’m back from school, I still needa check in with Joy but I said hi to a couple other people on my way here so she probably already knows. She’s been real strict ‘bout knowin’ where I am lately. I think it's prolly ‘cause I got picked up by that gang last week, they didn’t do anythin’, I was jus’ hangin’ out with’em, but I guess social services didn’t like that I was hangin’ out with a,” he set down his tray and threw off his backpack to use his hand for air quotes, “‘violent gang’ such as the Cat’s Claws. They’re honestly not that bad.”

Jake drug the armchair closer to his plate and Zoey’s bed, picking up his milk carton to clink it against her feeding tube gently. He drank his soup slowly, enjoying the few pieces of meat and feeling proud every time he chewed a potato. He had been helping in the hospital garden when he could. Something social services had made him do to keep him off the streets but he still enjoyed it.

“Y’know, S.S’s been strugglin’ lately Z. Well, they always are, but really, after all that trouble I told ya ‘bout they’ve been breathin’ down my neck lately. They don’t like the idea of me livin in a hospital, this one worker told me I was goin to disrupt the peace, or waste people's time, y’know cause it’s a hospital and doctors an’ nurses need to focus, but I’ve been tryin real hard to blend in, I stayed out late to not clog the hallways but then they yelled at Joy ‘cause I kept gettin inta trouble, even when I wasn’t!

“Jus’ cause I hang out with criminals doesn��t make me one! I mean, someone has’ta take care of ‘em, else they’re all gonna die of infections, I tell ya, one time I met a lady who had let a lill’ stab wound get infected, it was so gross, but nobody wanted to help her so I looked at it and guess what, she just needed to wash it out a bit and properly bandage it. I showed ‘er how to make bandages from scraps like ya taught me. I’m ramblin’ uh.

“Oh yeah, so after they gave me that curfew I started tryin to make friends with the other patients and they were all real nice but S.S. didn’t like that either for some reason, somethin’ ‘bout it not bein professional, I can talk to other patients my age an’ that's it apparently. Like that makes sense. So now I ‘ave’ta check in every day after school, an’ before Joy leaves, an’ she locks us in here now! Have you noticed? She always unlocks it at five the next mornin’ but still. It’s been real borin.”

Jake pushed a strand of hair from Zoey’s face, it was to her shoulders now, she’d probably want to cut it when she woke up. Or maybe not, Jake was pretty sure she had only cut her hair in support of him having to cut his, she’d always had these really detailed hair styles before that. He wove a messy braid into a small bit of her hair and smiled at the attempt. 

“Sorry fer ramblin’, I know it’s annoyin’. But, uh, when ya wake up can you teach me how’ta braid hair please? Ok, I’mma go check in with Joy now, love you.”

He waited a moment, breathed in, breathed out. When nothing followed he quickly got up, pushing his chair back into place and collecting his dishes.

In the cafeteria it had quitted just a bit, most people had gone back to their rooms and work now. Entering the kitchen wasn’t really allowed but, like in many things, Jake was an exception. Entering the kitchen always felt like going under water and only hearing the muffled voices of the surface. 

The kitchen staff always talked in soft voices that mixed with the cling and clack of kitchen utensils. The sound of people in the cafeteria would worm it’s way through the walls and dance with the quiet music that played quietly from a trashy radio someone had fished out of a trash and repaired years ago. The smells of food stuck to a schedule just as much as the food. Today had been potato soup so the music was samba, Chef Maya’s playlist. 

She always danced her way around the kitchen but on samba days her movements would grow smoother like they’d been defrosted especially for the day. 

Jake quietly started running water over his dishes, happy to be looked over in the bustle. Tomorrow was fresh bread Friday so the kitchen was moving in a muffled hurry to prepare. Usually Jake would love to help, bread was one of his favorite things to make, but he still needed to check in with Joy so he quickly waved to the welcoming chefs and left. 

Joy was on the second level like always. She was checking in on a patient who had come in with a severe case of  Stardust yesterday. They hoped he would wake up in the coming days but it wasn’t likely. Jake hoped he woke up soon. From the door window Jake watched as Joy drew his blood and added it to her vial already filled with another liquid. She shook it until the red changed to a silvery metallic color, knitting her brows at the reaction, Jake mimicked her face, scrunching his brows in a similar fashion. 

Doctors had done this to Zoey every so often, more frequently when she first arrived, when they still had higher hopes. They’d let him shake the vials until the colors changed as a sort of morbid entertainment. 

Sighing, Joy zipped the blood sample into a contamination bag and checked the rest of the patient's vitals. When everything was in order she headed to the door, spotting Jake in the process. She knitted her brows at him and he quickly jumped off the stool he’d drug over to the door and carried it back to her desk. A minute later she walked out of the patient room and over to Jake, taking off her medical mask, and tossing her gloves into a garbage.

“See this line?” She pointed to the obvious silver and navy hazard line painted into the floor. 

Jake looked at it, taking another step behind the desk that was outside the line that separated the Stardust ward from the entrance of the floor.

“You see it, right?” Joy said again, tapping her foot on the line twice.

Jake nodded, eyes fixed on the simmering silvery lines nestled between the blue. Apparently the floor had been originally closed off with a temporary tape made for the epidemic but when it became a-

“You’re not supposed to be lookin round this floor,” She nagged, pulling Jake from his thoughts.

“I know,” he mumbled. When it became a permanent issue-

“If Social Services found out I was lettin’ you wander ‘round they’d move you again.”

“I know.” When it became a permanent issue they painted the line.

“That’d be what? 5 houses in 11 months? I mean, y’know they hate you livin’ here, and I can’t really disagree, it’s no place fer a kid.”

“I know.”

“As soon as a place opens up they’re gonna be itchin’ for a reason to kick ya.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she sighed, sitting on the floor next to him, “You're lucky we got yer sister moved for you, ya’know.”

Jake gave her the look, he gave her every time she said that, like he was lucky the hospital had given up on Zoey’s recovery enough to move floors, like they were waiting for her bed to open up, like he was lucky social services was so overworked that they were desperate enough to send a 13 year old [timephrame] to live in a hospital, in the same room as his comatose sister. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she sighed.

He scrunched his face more, hoping to double whatever feeling it caused.

“Stop,” she groaned, squishing his face, causing him to freeze, “Sorry, uh,” she withdrew her hands and tucked them between her legs, “Sorry, yeah, yer not lucky, but, yeah. Take the wins kid. You're close to her, I mean, you practically lived here even ‘fore you officially got signed over. And now you get to have me as your legal guardian!” She pointed at herself excitedly, “How awesome is that?”

“You?” Jake asked quizzically.

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Jake hummed, pretending to think hard about how great it really was, “I don’ know. I had this one real cool guardian who taught me boxin’.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” Jake popped the p, doing it a coupe times, liking the small pressure it caused in his chest and throat.

Joy chuckled, “How’d that work? Y’know, with the whole,” she waved her hands at him, not finishing her sentence.

“Uh, I don’ know, she jus’, took it real slow an’ had me practice with a dummy or spar with her but she wouldn’t spar back, only block. That took a while for me to be comfortable with. I almos’ got comfortable enough to have a normal practice, our goal was by the end of the month,” Jake smiled, remembering how excited she was to realize Jake trusted her that much.

“What happened? If you don’t mind?”

“Huh?” he cleared away the memories like a sticky residue,”oh, uh,” he thought for a second, trying to recall which offense matched her and not another guardian, “Oh! She was stealin’ from the district over, uh D-12, y’know the one with all those orchards, yeah they didn’t like that she was stealin all that produce, so she was sent to care for a field until she could properly make up for all the lost product. Should’a known somethin’ was up with how many smoothies she made me,” Jake smiled, remembering the apple milkshakes she’d make, at first he’d thought they’d be gross but let it be known he’d never turn down free food and sure enough they’d been a hit.

“Harsh. I think I hear Akuno’s passin’ a law ‘bout border crossin’ soon.”

“I think that’d do D-20 some good, wouldn’t have so many rich idiots passin’ through just to laugh at us.”

Joy hummed, patting her legs before getting up, “Alright, thanks for checking in, if not a bit late,” she added with a joking scolding voice, “I’ll check in before bed,” she turned to leave but suddenly turned back, “Oh, and, uh, so last week, right, Monday I think, we went to the library and I got the place’s number but I lost the slip and can’t remember it. I hate to do this but could you help me please?” She made an apologetics face clasping her hand in front of her.

Jake hummed trying to remember; last week, Monday, they had gone to the library, it had been sunny, but rain looked to be rolling in. Jake had been excited about that. He had wanted a book on observing vocal tone and needed to return his book on how to understand a person's body language. He’d found it, remembered where it was from the last time he visited, right next to a thick red book and a squat maroon book. When they left the librarian checking them out had talked to Joy, they’d had red hair, it was very pretty, Jake had thought their freckles were very pretty as well, he’d always liked freckles, the librarian had written down the library's number and handed it to Joy, and, oh! He had seen it then, in the exchange of hands.

“It was 218-734-345-3455, the five’s coulda been six’s though, they didn’t have the best handwriting.”

Joy wrote down the last number, making note of the five to six bit, “Perfect, thank you so much, I’ll call about that book fair for you asap, promise.”

“Ok.”

Jake waved goodbye, as Joy went to fulfill the rest of her tasks. First he went to the roof, helping with the garden, the potatoes had needed to be pulled today. Heading to the kitchen next they were still preparing bread and he found himself helping add things to mixers and memorizing recipes he was excited to try some day. Chef Ron loved to share tips on how to substitute expensive ingredients with cheap items. 

His brother, Remmy, always shared how to safely eat overdue food, he technically couldn’t share these items with the public but he would “accidently” leave items for Jake after “accidently” talking about the processes needed to safely eat the food or after they had already been prepared.  

Jake was writing a paper for his English class when Joy came to say goodnight.

“Hey sour patch,” she entered, chuckling at Jake’s huff of annoyance at the nickname he never understood, “Bed time,” she sing-songed, setting her bag on the floor, “Y’all ready?”

Jack hummed, focused on finishing his thought. Joy walked over to Zoey’s bed, flattening the odd wrinkles and fixing her stray hairs. Smiling at the girl, her eye’s softened for a second, then hardened with something like resolved. She inhaled, sipping air like it would solidify the emotions she was trying to press in place, not seeing the way Jake watched her. He had finished his thought, but finished or not he always secretly watched as Joy fussed with Zoey before getting him ready for bed.

Jake found himself copying her routine in the morning, making sure it looked just like how Joy did it. He could never perfect the tiny curl she would draw against Zoey’s cheek with a strand of hair.

“I’m ready,” he mumbled, setting the laptop in the nightstand drawer. 

“I better not find out you were on that all night,” Joy warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jake lied. 

They both knew it was a lie, But this was a lie he wouldn't get punished for because one: it wasn’t really a lie as they both knew the truth, and two: Joy encouraged studying even if she didn’t approve of him studying into the early hours of morning. It was his own fault if he was tired in the morning and couldn’t focus at school, and that was punishment enough. 

“Pjs?” Joy scanned.

“Check,” Jake lifted his arm, revealing his soft pig sweater.

“Teef?”

“Check,” he widened his gums as if to prove they’d been scrubbed.

“Bed made?”

He pointed at the small cot in the corner, perfectly made.

“Window locked?” She walked to the window herself, checking the bolt and trying to lift it open. She turned away satisfied when it stayed closed, “Alright, school tomorrow, then right back. Amanda,” she sneered the name with a fake and horribly inaccurate posh accent, “is checkin’ in at four, so best behaviors. Now, in bed.”

She herded him into his cot, pulling the blanket over him and tucking in his feet.

“We gotta cut yer hair soon, it’s like a curtain in-fron-a yer eyes, how-d-ya even see?”

Jake crossed his eyes, pulling a curl and watching it bounce. Dad wouldn’t be a fan of this length, it was already too long, long enough to pull, reaching his nose and covering his ears.

“I don’t really know,” He lamented, “I jus sorta look through the gaps.” He swayed his head, watching the curls move back and forth, then looking through the gaps made with the movement.

Joy huff, “Right, Well, for now, I’ll bring some hair ties with me tomorrow, I can cut yer hair later this week, a’right?”

“Ok.”

  Picking up her bag again she turned off the light, “I’m gonna lock the door now, you don’t need anythin?”

“Nope.”

“Ok,” she smiled, “See you two in the mornin.” 

Jake smiled back, “See you tomorrow, bye.”

Jake listened as she locked the door and her footsteps receded. He waited a minute before climbing out of his bed and into Zoey’s. He technically wasn’t supposed to do this, however Joy, upon catching him one too many times, had shown him the best way to sleep close to her while watching all the medical instruments plugged into her like a computer. 

“Hey Zoey,” he whispered, “I’m not gonna stay long promise, jus wanted to talk real quick see-” Someone jiggled the door knob to their room, and Jake zipped back to his bed. Joy must have forgotten something, she did that sometimes, forgetting to mention something or forgetting to give him something. The jiggling stopped, Jake held his breath a moment, waiting for Joy to properly unlock the door and walk in but nothing happened. Maybe one of the patients was walking around, sometimes they got confused.

Jake made his way back over to Zoey, crawling into the bed, “Weird,” he mumbled, “I heard one of the new patients is a sleep walker, I wanted t’talk to ‘em, see what it was like. I wonder if they dream when they walk, if the dreams affect how they interact with the world. Anyway, I scored well on that test I told you ‘bout. I knew I’d do good but confirmation is always nice. Oh, and I got invited to a birthday party today. I think it was a real invitation, not a joke, Imma ask more questions tomorrow. Oh, an’ Peit and Simon, y’know my babysitters, made me cookies today. With chocolate chips, I know they definitely traveled districts for that, maybe they’ll take me with ‘em one’a these days, probably not, I’m a bit of a liability. Plus, I think it’s like a date thing for them, I wouldn’t want’ta third-wheel.”

Jake paused, listening to the bustle of the hospital.

“Hey Zoey,” he looked up to her, patting her cheek. He told himself he wasn’t trying to wake her up, but there was always hope that maybe she’d rustle awake at the touch, “could I sleep with you tonight? It’s been 46 days since the last time I did.” Jake waited, a car passed outside; somebody walked past their door, casting a shadow under it; somewhere in the building someone laughed. “Alright, thank you.”

Jake curled himself into Zoey’s side and under the cover, inhaling and exhaling slowly, until sleep finlay came, and he woke up in his library.

The Library was not, against most people’s assumptions, organized. There was a desk when Jake first entered. Here a Jake that looked exactly like him sat, this Jake, he was often just called Desky, had a little laptop like Jake’s out in the real world and it ran somewhat slow. If real Jake wanted to remember something like “yesterday's lunch” this was his best bet but for things more complicated like the phone number from earlier today, he found it easier to travers his mind and find the memory he wanted with context.

Memories were often accessed like doorways for most people and Jake was no different even with his advanced memory. If he wanted to remember last Tuesday's lunch he’d first find last Tuesday in his library, then remember lunch time, who he’d been with maybe, what the menu at school had had to offer, something key like a fist fight breaking out. This sounded organized but his mind was still somehow a mess. 

Memories sat on the ground and were strewn across the shelves in odd orders, remembering a duck could remind Jake of green which would remind him of apples so of course those memories shaped like books were all currently stacked on top of each other on the floor. There was a crate somewhere in this library that moaned and tried to grab Jake’s attention but he had hidden it behind so many other random memories that he could only access it by really trying to remember those memories, or something reminded him of them, but he never wanted to think about them anyway so the box stayed hidden and Jake didn’t know were in The Library it was. 

Sometimes when Peit and Simmon wanted to talk without him hearing they’d ask him to think about how many pigeons he’d seen last Monday and he was always too naive to realize why they were asking at the time so he would delve into his library looking through Monday’s book, looking for birds he had seen and counting each one. When he would resurface the two’s conversation would be interrupted with his answer, their conversations had already been finished anyway.

As much of a mess as it was Jake loved his library. The odd ‘roof’ above was a deep swirling blue galaxy, shifting in hues and twinkling with stars. Vines laced their ways around  books and objects, red roses and other flowers blooming from oblong the body. Forget-me-nots timidly grew from crevices here and there, and while there was no smell inside his head except the wafting of a memory Jake liked to imagine it smelled of lilies and old books, crinkled and weary with age. 

The shelves ran high, decorated with ladders that stretched taller than buildings. The shelves housed more than books, flowers and shrubs burst from their counters. Toys and food stuck in time sat on display. Some of the books, placed between a puddle and a bowl of cereal were actually books he’d read and taken the time to perfectly reconstruct in his mind.

He was never lonely here either, versions of himself walked aimlessly, one version from each birthday, a version from hard to erase memories, and versions from mundane days. Each one would never exist again, only here could they remain like a copy of himself in that moment. Jake hated to even look at some of them but he knew even still, in some odd way he was never alone. Or maybe he should take Joy up on that offer of therapy. 

Sometimes Jake wished he could dream but being in the muted quiet of his head, organizing his memories and objects, he felt he was resting enough. Jake smiled as he picked up a book filled with all the recipes he’d learned, deciding to create a shelf for food related memories. Memories could be held on more than one shelf so he left this first version on the floor next to the book on pigs.

Jake spent his sleep organizing his memories on his new shelf, finally after some time he felt himself start to drift, starting to wake up. He stretched his hands over his head, it didn’t achieve much but he felt like one was supposed to do this after a bigger task so he did it anyway. Taking a step back to admire his work, something cold settled under his skin and panic wiggled it’s way into his heart as instead of hitting the hardwood floor or even waking up in bed his foot sank down. Instead of hitting the ground he fell into the floor.

Chapter 2

⭐️Hello hello! This is a story I've held close to my heart for a long time but haven't written a lot of. The other day I realized that when I started writing it I had expected be done with the first book by 2024. I'm goin to try n write a chapter a month (it'll probably be pocmarked with spelling mistakes ngl) but it's a challenge I hope I can keep up with 🌙

#chapter 1 #creative writing #first time writing here #novice writer #nervous writer #Original story #original character #original work #dystopian #dystopian story #post apocalyptic #post apocalyptic story #character with amnesia #main character is autistic #not diagnosed though #let me know if I'v written any aspect of him incorectly #always up for constructive criticism #Ahhhhh I'm actually kinda nervous to share this #enjoy #Ambrosia Salad Of The Brain #No Beta Reader #First draft #I might come back through to edit this

[damaskrose345]

"We Will Be Warm"

If you find this letter, I am dead, and our God and Devil turned out to be one and the same.  

I lost count of the prayers and pleas we had amassed for the Lord. So much wasted breath employed in begging a deaf deity for deliverance, so much finite vitality spent beseeching God to pass us away from that darkness and into the light— that of the grave or rescue, it mattered not to our frost-addled souls. We only wanted warmth, and if that warmth could only be found under pilings of soil, then let it be. All of our energy, that precious ambrosia that, once lost, can never be recovered, was blasted away in barren begging. We knew no heroes would break through the ice like Christ resurrected. As we starved and shivered, huddled tight in flocks of wind-worn leather, blistered flesh, and vacant voids of hopeless eyes, we knew this place was far beyond God’s reach.

Sun dogs refracted above our frames, washing us in sunlight devoid of true heat. It bore down like the eye of a cruel beholder, some verily depraved spectre who saw us rotting upon the floes of ice and took amusement in the scene, showering us with false warmness so that we could delude ourselves into feeling its kiss upon our skin, only to glance down through frosted lashes at where such a kiss was placed, and see a patchwork of stony flesh numb to all sense. Skin so mangled by the cold that it mocks you, unfeeling as iron and the color of pitch, of the coals that haunted our frigid dreams. We dreamt so viciously of heat that it became a part of our bodies, even as our souls glaciated. 

A small boy, having not even graced his thirteenth year, lay beside me one night on the tundra. The others were scattered about the site. Some were dead, some, one could not tell. But all was silent, save for the savage howl and snarl of wind and the laborious breathing of our cadaverous camp. The boy was pressed to my side. I could feel him shiver. I could feel every shaking breath he took. I could practically feel the life seeping out of him as the endless night marched on, forging ever onward across the wasteland, the moon the only lantern to be found. 

The silence broke. The boy’s voice creaked past his rocklike lips. 

“Is heaven this cold?” he whispered. The wind nearly stole his words from me, but I heard him well. 

I hardly possessed the spirit to answer. “No,” was all I could reply. 

Another lapse of iron silence. I awaited the boy’s next question. I knew he had one. All children are curious; even the frozen reaper could not change that. 

After an age, he spoke once again. “Will God warm us when we die?” he asked. 

My eyes were fixed on the sweep of stars above. They glimmered freely, for no cloud was there to bury them. One vastness above, one below. I knew no warmth existed in the open wild of space, yet I did not believe any wildness could be more desolate than the tundra. 

My tongue blotted at my lips vainly, trying to wet them so that my words did not share our fate. “Yes,” I told the boy softly, weakly. “The stars. They are warm. God puts us among them like….” Exhaustion leadened my mind, but I battled. “A hearth. We will be warm.” 

 Frost clung to my lashes. I would have wept, but my tears had been hardened to stones within my face. I watched the stars dance and scamper like children across the inky sky. Then, an interloping figure broke into my vision. It rose slowly, ever so slowly, and swayed in the same manner as a tree in a storm. The small branches of the tree emerged, curled and trembling. The trunk was wrapped in old leather and wool frayed by exposure, and with a sick wrenching of my gut, I realized whose arm I gazed at. 

The boy reached up to the stars. Against the backdrop of the heavens, I was reminded of just how delicate his frame was. How young. How moribund.

His fingers did not grasp at the sight in the way an infant might do so for its mother. He could not, for such a meager action would cause his fingers to snap clean off. No, he could not. He kept his arm raised high with his little hand edged in black. 

I know not when, but I eventually drifted into sleep. 

In the morning, when I awoke like a corpse recalled to life, the first thing my eyes beheld was the arm of the boy, remaining in its stretch towards the sky. His hand was virginal white and pallid blue, his fingertips the color of onyx. I looked at the boy’s face and saw only a youthful face leached of all life and hue. His eyes were closed, tucked into slumber behind his frosted lashes. He was dead. 

Myself and a handful of the surviving men spent the following day burying the child. Had we possessed our usual strength, the affair would have been done in less than an hour, but death loomed over us all, and thus one child’s burial cost us one full day. The grave was shallow, and as we laid the boy into the hardened earth, an obstacle appeared before us. 

The boy’s arm. 

It remained upright as it had been when he died and was all but cemented that way by the elements. The grave, I recall, was not deep enough to cover the child without all of him lying completely flat. The arm had to be lowered to entirely bury him. We had to either snap the arm to settle it or bury what we could and embark further on toward the mainland. 

I reached towards the corpse, clasping my own frostbitten fingers around the arm. It was so thin, I remember, so fragile like the wing of a songbird. I imagined the splintering crack breaking it would create, a sound that would echo in my mind for all my days remaining. I could not do it. I released the boy from my grasp, affirmed my fellow undertakers, and covered the small boy with snow and gravel. 

God forgive me. God forgive my cowardice and my cruelty. We left the boy as he died, arm eternally reaching up towards the high heavens and the God who was not here. There was no marker upon his grave, only a frail arm sprouting from the snow like a lily. 

The arm watched us as we turned and staggered across the wasteland, and each time I turned back to cast another look, it kept shrinking until, at last, when I turned, it had vanished entirely into the white nothingness of the tundra. 

My heart is heavy as I write this. My mind is forever preyed upon by the image of the child’s dead hand and the horrific sound of the mercy I could have shown had I simply snapped it. But mercy does not exist in this place. As I write this, I know my time on this earth is swiftly coming to an end, and I hope only that my final words to that boy ring true. 

I pray God will put us among the stars when we finally pass. 

I pray God will warm us. 

I pray we will be warm.  

#aspiring author #gothic writing #horror #original post #original work #writers on tumblr #writing #arctic #antarctica #exploration #halloween #female author #fiction #historical #historical fiction #original horror #winter #snow #arctichorror #dark history

[deathfavor]

@sortilegii​​ said: ❝  have you ever had something…missing?  like something just doesn’t feel right inside you but you don’t know what it is.  ❞ ( chief and serpent )

ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING

   High above the ground, a snake sat coiled in her spot. Serpent laid against the hoop the spun from the roof of the training room.  (  She’d raised hell with the guards to get it installed and now often spent much of her time there.  )  But right now the training room was empty save for the two animated, hallow shells that remained within its walls.

   “  That’s not a very funny joke, Chief.  “  Serpent’s tone was flat in contrast to her usual bubbly responses. In fact, a minuscule trace of irritation was audible in her voice as her index finger stroked beneath the chin of her black snake. She had yet to actually look at the Crina since she’d answered the room, and evidently the question was NOT a well received one by the frostiness in her voice.  “  You already know the answer to that.  “

  Her eyes closed and slowly her form slid off the hoop as if she was freefalling. But right before she hit the ground, her form seemed to suddenly explode into white feathers that floated down gently from high above.  (  She’d be tasked with cleaning it all up, but worth it.  ) In the disorienting moment, it was as if she had vanished entirely. But a few seconds later, Serpent’s arms snaked out to wrap around Chief’s shoulders from behind, cold and strong, though lacking any malicious in intent  -  other than the snake that rested against Crina’s shoulder.

   “  I’m not laughing. It’s not a good joke if people don’t laugh.  “  Serpent’s voice remains calm and composed, her rather than the stage version of herself. A hand lifts, gently brushing her fingers through Crina’s hair.  “  Your void is like a gaping chasm. You’re not just missing a section. You are like an island in the ocean of the void. Most people have a lake in their hearts from the misery. You are the opposite.  “  Serpent speaks calmly, patiently, as if explaining something.  “  Your shackles might have let you in, and I let you further, but it’s not one way. You’ve tasted Ambrosia, even if it had no effect. That alone showed me plenty.  “  Her voice is soothing as she speaks, slowly dragging her hands through those locks of hair..

  But then she untangles herself, stepping away as her snake coils itself around her arm once more.  “  Of course I have, and do. Although I know what it is, I think.  You didn’t forget that in getting your new Sinners, did you?  “  It was IMPOSSIBLE to tell if she was merely teasing or being genuine. Like a snake shedding skin, she seemed to slip from persona to persona with ease. Maybe there was truth to be said about those who turn themselves in being more dangerous.

   Serpent however shares no more, seeming to be avoiding the conversation as she got a groom and began to sweep the feathers into a pile before anyone could start yelling at her.

#sortilegii #really love how serpent still just pulls these stunts #and no one can figure out how #but also yIKES #she did not take that question well v.v #᛭ — [IC] happiness evades the longing heart [SERPENT]

[cherryonigiri]

Moment I: Crash Landing (NOT) On You

Son of Zeus!Bokuto x Child of Demeter!Reader || PJO x Haikyuu AU

Summary: Bokuto swears it’s all Akaashi’s turtledove’s fault. If it didn’t decide to fly over Cabin Four, he wouldn’t be in this mess, fearing death (or at least serious injury) by celestial bronze gardening tool. (Featuring Kuroo, Son of Hermes, still the provocation master).

wc: 2.1k || genre(s): humor, fluff || masterlist: turtledoves & daisies

A/N: this is the first fic I’ve written in a while, so I’d appreciate any feedback/comments. Also can i just say that I’m absolutely infatuated with Son of Zeus!Bokuto 🥺

“Bokuto-san, be carefu!l” Akaashi worriedly watches as his white-haired friend streaks through the sky. Bokuto has his hands outstretched, golden eyes wholeheartedly focused on the turtledove fluttering in the air in front of him. Zipping closer, he swipes at it again, trying in vain to capture the bird as it darts away from his grasp.

His fingertips brush the feathers, only for it once again dodge his hand. “Dammit.” Bokuto scowls as he continues to loop around the dove. As much as he loves flying, the sun is starting to hurt his eyes as he struggles to capture Akaashi’s turtledove. He knows Akaashi loves the bird, but by the gods, did it have a “free spirit” and then some. To be fair, Akaashi had befriended it during a quest, so it’s probably all magicked up or something. Which would explain why it was impossible for him to catch the stupid thing despite being a literal son of the skies.

Apparently the turtledove just wants to make his day harder because suddenly it dives downwards towards Camp Half-Blood, darting past the lava-belching climbing wall as it makes it’s way towards the fields. Bokuto gives chase, plunging after the damn bird, pouring on the speed as he tries to catch up to the (he’s now 95% sure it’s) magic avian. He can see his outstretched hand getting closer and closer towards the bird and he is finally able to just get his arms around it when suddenly he hears someone shouting his name.

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi cries out from a distance, watching in horror as his friend continues to speed towards the ground

“LOOK OUT!” a foreign voice shouts as several other campers scream. Twisting midair, Bokuto does his best to shield the bird from the impact as he plows through the soil, uprooting the rows of wheat, and—

Oh shit. He can see the golden stalks slowly floating down from the air. Please, please, please tell me I didn’t land where I think I landed. There’s a giant divot in the soil where he must have skidded to a stop. His head is aching, and he’s definitely scraped up, but otherwise he’s fine. Bokuto has never gotten seriously hurt from a fall before (courtesy of being a son of Zeus, he guesses). He’s a little banged up, and he’ll definitely be sporting a few bruises, but nothing a bit of ambrosia can’t fix. Groaning, he sits up, and gets a better look around him. There are several campers staring at him in shock, and an increasing number are beginning to look pretty pissed. In the distance, he can see emerald vines agitatedly waving in the air. There’s only one place within the entire camp where you could find moving plants, and oh my gods he is so screwed— Yup, he definitely landed smack dab in the middle of Cabin Four’s fields.

Gods he is in so much trouble- Demeter’s children are fiercely protective of the magical plants in their gardens, fields of wheat included. Grown from mysterious seeds gifted to them by their mother, the crops behind their cabin always seem to yield fruit regardless of the season and can regrow harvests overnight. (Bokuto can confirm this because he once spent an entire evening staring at a watermelon as it developed from bud to full fruit before the sun rose.) Cold dread settles in his stomach once he remembers that the plants only retain their regenerative abilities so long as they remain rooted in the soil of Camp Half-Blood. And he can tell with a glance that the piles of wheat surrounding him are most definitely not rooted in anything. Ah, that’s probably why more than half of Cabin Four looks like they wouldn’t mind tying him up and throwing him into the sacrificial flame before dinner.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he gulps as he stands, turning around to face a pissed off Cabin Four camper. “What the hell did you do to my plants Bokuto?” you scream at him. Bokuto is well known—his shockingly bright hair is recognizable anywhere, and he’s also a son of one of the Big Three, so it’s no surprise you know his name. Tilting his head, he tries to match your face to a name. Maybe you’re a new camper? A glance at the cord around your neck, filled with more than a few beads, assures him you’ve been at camp for a while. Damn, it seems like you’re one of the few campers he’d never crossed paths with up until now. Akaashi appears behind you, chest heaving from sprinting towards Bokuto. He makes concerned eye contact with Bokuto, and the owl-haired man nods reassuringly before revealing the turtledove safely tucked behind his arms.

“Um...I was trying to get this back to ‘Kaashi,” he blurts out, shoving the turtledove in your face. You raise an eyebrow before turning towards the bird. You coo at it, whistling and nodding as the bird chirps back at you. They’re one of the campers Konoha’s mentioned before - the ones who can talk to animals he recalls, watching in awe as you converse with the turtledove. You seem to nod before gesturing for Bokuto to release the dove, which he does hesitantly. Surprisingly, it calmly hops from his hand to your arm, chirruping and nuzzling your cheek with its head as you turn around.

Walking towards another section of the garden, you finally stop in front of a cluster of vines. Moving the dove to your shoulder, squat down, coaxing the vines to slowly grow outwards and around your hands. Your gaze becomes focused, and the spring breeze seems to dance around you as the vines intertwine, spiraling to form a beautiful cage. With a snap of your fingers it’s complete, vines retreating from your hands and moving back towards the soil, leaving you with a sphere of intertwining branches that somehow still look alive despite not being attached to a living plant.

With a small shrug, you nudge the bird towards the entrance of the cage, smiling when it happily chirps it’s satisfaction. Turning around, you hand the spherical container to Akaashi. “She didn’t like the metal cage, but as long as you leave the door open she promises to come back by sunset and not cause any trouble, right?” you pause to look at the turtledove out of the corner of your eye, but she quickly coos at you, assuring you that you shouldn’t be seeing any stray turtledoves for the time being. Akaashi quietly nods and thanks you, clutching the cage firmly to his chest.

For a moment, Bokuto breathes a sigh of relief - it seems like his days of turtledove chasing are over. That quickly changes as you whip around and stomp back towards him, seemingly with the wrath of Hades in your eyes. With one flick of your wrist he finds himself quite literally rooted in place with the surviving wheat stalks and surrounding grass tightening around his limbs. You pull something out of your pocket and oh gods is that a celestial bronze shovel?!

“You!” You’re glaring at him, pointing your shovel at his chest. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get those magical wheat seedlings growing right?”

Bokuto swallows nervously before shaking his head. Your scowl deepens, and now the shovel is definitely pressing into his collarbone and he’s just the slightest bit worried that he might actually meet an untimely demise (via. a highly enhanced gardening tool).

“You’re so lucky we just harvested this field yesterday, otherwise I would have personally gone to Chiron and requested that you be banned from participating in all combat-related activities for a couple of weeks!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Isn’t that a little much? It’s not like I destroyed the whole field or anything,” Bokuto protests. Sue him for being a little competitive, but he enjoys the chance to butt heads with other campers (all in good fun of course).

“It’s not like I destroyed the whole field or anything,” you parrot back at him in a sing-songy voice. “Yeah, and thank the gods for that, otherwise I’d actually whack you with this shovel right now.” On second thought maybe he shouldn’t talk back. Wounds caused by celestial bronze- even tiny scrapes and bruises - sting like a bitch and aren’t as responsive to ambrosia and nectar. He’d rather not deal with a stinging injury for the next couple of days on top of recovering from his untimely crash-landing into your field.

“Woah, woah, woah, y/n.” Bokuto sighs in relief when he hears Kuroo’s voice. The dark haired son of Hermes approaches you, waving his hands placatingly in front of his chest. “I’m sure we all realize that Bokuto probably shouldn’t have dive bombed your field—”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault bro!” Bokuto hisses at Kuroo.

“Shut up Bo, I’m trying to save your ass right now,” Kuroo whispers back, before going back to smiling sheepishly at you.

“--but I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t knock my best friend out with a celestial bronze object.”

Chuckling, you tuck the shovel back into your pocket. “I wasn’t gonna even touch him,” you retorted, “just wanted to scare him a bit since this is gonna be a pain in the ass to fix-up.” You sigh, looking at the carnage around you. Any plant grown from your mother’s magical seeds was temperamental at first— the first time you’d tried to grow this field of wheat the plants had almost overtaken all the land surrounding the cabins. It took a careful combination of soil preparation, plant magic, plus many hours of watering, shoveling and weeding, to coax them to grow without overrunning the rest of Camp Half-Blood.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and now that Akaashi’s bird isn’t trying to Shawshank Redemption its way out of a cage every ten minutes, I’m sure you won’t be getting any sudden sons of Zeus falling from the sky anytime soon,” Kuroo jokes.

“Doesn’t mean it’s going to be a walk in the park to get this back together,” you complain. Your eyebrows are pinched together, lips sticking out in a small pout, and for some reason, despite the fact you’re probably still pissed at him, Bokuto can’t help but find your expression slightly endearing.

Noticing the small pink spots that appear on Bokuto’s cheeks, Kuroo follows his friend's gaze. His smirk deepens when he realizes what’s caught the silver-haired man’s attention. Golden eyes glimmering at the opportunity to provoke you just the tiniest bit, Kuroo replies “Would you mind untying Bo? I mean I know you’re into some kinky stuff y/n but I didn’t realize that—”

“Oh my gods, shut up Kuroo!” you growl, cheeks burning with embarrassment. A rushed wave of your hand causes the vines to drop Bokuto unceremoniously onto the ground. Within a second you’re less than an arms’ length away from Kuroo, celestial bronze shovel pinned against his throat. “I will not hesitate to hit you with this if another word about that so much as leaves your mouth Kuroo,” you hiss.

Kuroo gingerly eases the deadly gardening implement away from his neck, backing away with Bokuto in tow. “Don’t worry about it y/n, after all, we did agree it was only a one-time thing,” he responds, laughing when he sees your back stiffen.

“I hope you go rot in Hades, Kuroo Tetsurou!” you huff, as you roll your eyes. “Go drown in the Acheron or something!” you add before stomping back towards your cabin.

“I’ll let you know when Nico or someone else from Cabin Thirteen has an opening in their calendar to take me down for a visit!” Kuroo barks out a laugh when he catches you flipping him off as you walk towards the cabins.

Stretching your hands above your head, the tension seeps out of your shoulders as the sun sets. You can see the lights of the mess hall glowing in the distance, but you’re too exhausted to bother with a big dinner or company from the other cabins tonight. Instead, you stroll back to your bunk in Cabin Four for a well deserved nap. (If you get hungry, you can always raid the cabin pantry later.)

In the distance, a pair of golden, owl-like eyes keep drifting towards your retreating figure, wondering, why, of all things, you have a celestial bronze gardening shovel.

Bonus Facts:

Y/n owns an entire set of garden tools made with celestial bronze. Bokuto discovers this later and is genuinely scared + concerned™

“That” refers to a secret game of truth and dare that happened one night when all the counselors got bored during their weekly meeting. Both Kuroo and y/n have sworn on the River Styx to never reveal any specific details from said truth and dare. To this day y/n wonders how Kuroo has gotten away with using it to tease them despite their oath.

Bokuto has actually met y/n before, but just in passing. They were responsible for setting plant traps before a particular game of capture the flag that allowed y/n’s team to waltz over the flag and win the game within a half hour, all while Bokuto’s team could do nothing but dangle from where they were tangled in plant stems and watch.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #fukurodani x reader #fukurodani #akaashi keiji #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu scenarios #pjo au #pjo x haikyuu

[hyacjnthus]

did someone ask for *dramatically takes off sunglasses* nico di angelo angst? nope, nobody asked for it

it’s been sitting in my google docs drafts for like months so here you go. read it on AO3

_____

who is in control? by plantedpluto

_____

For demigods, Friday was going great. It was just before Capture the Flag when Nico had followed Will into the infirmary to tidy it up. They both knew, especially with the skills those had learned from the Giant War a few weeks ago, people could fight brutally and Will might be stuck there for a while.

As Nico was flipping through the pages of Lou Ellen’s file - mostly potions-gone-wrong related injuries, screams erupted from down the hill, and Cecil Markowitz came barreling into the infirmary.

He was coated in water, a few cuts on his arms and a bite that looked like it came from a fish. Something wasn’t right. Something big wasn’t right.

“It...It’s Percy!” Cecil winced, waving his hands frantically as he talked. “He’s destroying the camp, summoning everything from the ocean!”

Will took Cecil by the shoulders to set him down, then looked back at Nico. He had a look that Nico knew anywhere, but now was the time to ignore it.

“You cannot be serious,” Will said, his voice hard.

“Will, you know what he can do.” Nico explained, a tinge of panic in his own voice. “If anyone can stop him, it’s me.”

Before Nico could leave, Will gripped his wrist, pulling him closer, and connected their lips together. Will had that warm and reassuring feeling, somehow more than usual. When they reluctantly pulled apart, Will hugged him. That only made Nico’s abrupt departure even worse.

To hide the fear, Nico sent a joking salute to the room with a smile, then left with the faux emotion dropping.

The scene was utter chaos. The magma of the lava wall had turned black into what he assumed was obsidian, a few cabins - including his own- crumbled to their individual materials, centre hearth completely extinguished with Percy standing over it, enveloped in water.

Nico hadn’t been very good at math, just now being tutored by Will to catch up, but he did try to calculate in his head the best plan of action.

Why was Percy doing this? Attacking camp with his powers? How were the gods, including Poseidon, just sitting there watching as their children avoided being slaughtered? Thank the gods there hadn’t been any casualties, but some were in such critical condition that Nico could feel their life force draining.

Prime example, Lacy from the Aphrodite cabin was whimpering on the ground, several cuts and bites on her skin. Nico knelt to her side, carefully running his fingers along them.

“Lacy,” Nico whispered, “It’s going to be okay, you’ll be just fine”

She picked her up under the knees and behind her head. He pressed his fingers to her neck and thanked the gods once again that she wasn’t dead. “Miranda!” he shouted at the closest child of Demeter. She looked inharmed, yet still in shock.

“Oh my gods, Lacy…” she muttered. “Nico what—“

“Take her to the infirmary, tell Will it’s critical, I’m going to stop Percy.” he explained before parting ways.

As Nico reached the middle, standing in front of the hearth, Percy’s white glazed eyes flickered to him when Nico drew his stygian iron sword. Riptide reflected in the water, glowing bright in the sunlight.

“Percy!” he called, purposely gaining the son of Poseidon’s attention before he could choke Pollux anymore. “What in Hades are you doing?”

Percy said nothing but let Riptide clatter to the stone. Was that a sign of surrender? Did he somehow begin to fear Nico when they were forced to fight against each other?

Nico placed his hand on the ground, summoning stone to lift him to almost Percy’s height, a few skeletal soldiers climbing their way up the sides, blocking Nico from the oncoming shark Percy decided to flick his way.

“Percy, stop this!” Nico begged, more soldiers replacing the crumbling ones. “You're destroying your home, what is wrong with you?”

Again, Percy would not answer, but his eyes flickered from clear, sea green to white and hazy. He was fighting for control, he was fighting against his power, he was fighting against what possessed him.

“Eidolon.” Nico whispered to himself. He needed Lacy, to charmspeak Percy out of his daze. Just as he heard Piper had done. But the oldest of the children of Aphrodite were gone, except for…

“MITCHELL!” Nico called to the splintering cabin ten. No answer. He called again, a boy stumbling out that he could barely see. Nico turned to Lou Ellen who appeared beside him, ready to fight, “Retrieve Mitchell, guide him to Percy for charmspeak.”

Lou Ellen nodded and a few warriors leapt from the top, fell to 201 individual pieces, then reassembled in a moment to follow the daughter of Hecate.

“I can destroy you alone, without destroying Percy Jackson.” Nico stated.

“Can you, son of Hades?” the possessed Percy asked, his voice like ice water. It made Nico shiver, almost like he was feeling someone die.

Yet, he really was feeling someone die. He was feeling himself die.

Nico could barely breathe. He felt like someone was squeezing his throat, someone repelling him closer and closer to Percy. He was forced to his knees, a feeling of heaviness towards his head. The chaotic nature of the sound around him seemed hollow until there was none, and tears streamed his face.

He could see his hands becoming paler, shriveling up like raisins when his blue and red veins depleted in colour in accordance with his leaking eyes, ears and now, nose.

Nico forced himself to his feet, fighting Percy’s control, pushing his palms firm on the stone to resist being smashed back down. He felt like he was doing push-ups with ten bricks on his back.

Getting to his feet, almost too weak to fight, he willed the undead to tear away the stones and crawl between the cracks close to Percy.

With one final thrust of his hands, an order, the undead attacked Percy and Mitchell whispered something in Percy’s ear. The son of Poseidon and Hades slumped down at the same time, undead crumbling to a pile of bones, retreating with the sloshing water back to the ocean.

__________

Nico felt himself get pushed up from behind, then laid gently across Percy’s knees. The eidolon was gone and he was captured in Percy’s sea smelled embrace. Percy tried to reach out for enough water to heal him, but no amount of ambrosia and nectar could replace all the blood that Nico lost that was now seeping into the grass.

Nico had minutes to live.

Percy studied Nico. His skin was transparent to the point where his veins were clearly visible under his pale tone. Dark blood seeped from his ears, starting to dry in clumps. A few tears escaped his eyes along with dark blood from the outside ring, eyes sunken in. Drops of blood from both nostrils slid down onto his lips and chin, which in turn spilled sideways as he was held.

“You controlled me,” Nico muttered.

“Not on purpose, I promise.” Percy said, feeling his eyes well up with tears. He furiously swiped them away, then stroked the hair from Nico’s bloody face.

“You’re Percy.” Nico enunciated, like he was reminding himself he succeeded. More glistening blood seeped from his lips as Percy nodded. “Your face…” he whispered deliriously. “Can I hold it?”

“Yeah, of course,” Percy said, drawing Nico’s hand to his cheek, holding it there.

“I didn’t realize the blood—“ Nico tried to pull away, but Percy kept his hand the way it was. If this was the comfort he needed, Percy could oblige.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Percy urged. Nico didn’t say anything to that. His breath hitched in his throat, Percy realizing he was forcing his body to stay alive for longer, for what he needed to say.

“I’m scared to die,” he finally croaked.

“You’re going to Elysium,” Percy insisted. “You are. You’re dying a hero’s death.”

Nico laughed precariously. “I’m not scared for me.”

Will, Percy realized.

He was terrified of leaving Will alone. He knew how much the son of Apollo had been through; losing his brothers in the Battle of Manhattan, becoming a counsellor for tons of his siblings at fourteen, losing and saving more after the Battle with Gaea - no teen like him needed to live like that.

For the first time ever, Nico sobbed - hard. Tears dripped down either side of his face, spilling down to his ears. More blood escaped his lips which only made Percy’s heart clench more.

“Please, don’t let him be alone,” Nico begged, his breath shallow and almost gone. “Don’t let him ever be alone...please.”

Percy let his forehead touch Nico’s when the son of Hades’ body went slack, and his pupils contracted like he’d been having a staring contest with the sun.

Not for one minute did Nico di Angelo fixate on himself, he was afraid for Will. Nico didn’t fear death, he feared the loneliness he knew his love would feel, and that pain hurt him more than the wounds that had slowly killed him.

#warning: major character death #nico di angelo #percy jackson #will solace #solangelo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirteen: We Make a Fort out of Thorns

Willow found us a nice little camping spot by a creek about a fifteen-minute walk outside the wealthy suburb where they’d left Orpheus. Luz was glad they could rest, she would never tell anybody, but despite her strength growing since arriving at camp, her weak little nerd arms probably couldn’t have carried Amity much farther.

Willow drew her sword and started weaving a protective barrier of foliage in a circle around us, large thorns protecting any monsters from barraging through easily. Gus reached into his stuffed backpack and pulled out something labeled “pop a tent” and opened the lid pointing it back towards a tree. Out popped, well, a tent. Luz’s mouth opened in awe. It was a six-person family tent, and it had already magically nailed itself down. Despite the rain, there was a slicker cover over it to shelter them.

Luz wanted to ask him where he’d got something like that, but her body was slowly starting to betray her. Her arms were now shaking carrying Amity’s weight over two miles, and when she opened her mouth nothing came out. She would have been embarrassed if Amity had noticed, but her worry was quickly overtaking her too. Amity had tucked her head against Luz’s shoulder and had somehow fallen asleep there, and her breathing was lightly coming in and out with every step Luz took.

Considering how shaky Luz’s steps had been, she must have really been exhausted to be able to fall asleep.

Gus zipped open the tent, gesturing inside. “Put her down in here, I’ll grab Willow’s medical supplies.”

Luz nodded and moved forward, ducking her head under the tent door and walking in. The inside was a decent size, with three sleeping bags already laid out on the left side of the tent. On the right side, there was a pile of blankets on the floor, a place clearly meant for sitting and relaxing. There were a couple of sleeping bags and other camp supplies stacked in the back corner. Luz hesitated, not sure where to go until Amity spoke up quietly from her shoulder.

“The blankets are fine,” she whispered. Her voice was raspy like she had just swallowed sand.

Luz gently set her down on the blankets, and Amity exhaled. Luz couldn’t help but perk up at that. It was almost a sigh of relief, but not quite.

As she collapsed into the blankets and settled in, Luz walked over to the camp supplies and took out an extra sleeping bag and a pillow.

Gus poked his head inside the door, dropping Willow’s bag near the entrance.

“Willow thinks she sees mortal hikers in the area so we’re going to try and magically conceal the campsite.”

Luz nodded, “Ok, I’ll be right out.”

Gus shook his head. “No, stay here. We won’t be long.” Gus left fairly quickly, with the promise that they would yell if they needed help.

When he left the tent, Luz walked back over to Amity and handed her the bag and pillow, who thanked her quietly. As she took it, Luz looked at her wrists and gasped. Her wrists were covered in deep purple bruises from the chains.

“Amity,” she started in horror, and the girl quickly covered her hands with her sleeves.

“It’s nothing,” she tried, but Luz shook her head.

“That’s not nothing,” Luz retorted. “And don’t try to tell me it doesn’t hurt either.” She wasn’t usually so stern, and with a jolt, she realized she probably sounded just like her Mami when Luz came home with an unexplained injury. Under different circumstances, she might have been embarrassed, but now she had a job to do.

She picked up Willows backpack and unzipped it, reaching inside to pull out the mortal first aid kit and a canteen of nectar. Underneath the canteen, Luz pulled out this Ziplock baggie of what looks like some kind of square food, and Luz’s brow furrowed. Amity chuckled at her expression, reaching over to take it from Luz and open the baggie, popping a square into her mouth and chewing.

It was like life immediately came back to her face. A lot of the bruises began to fade from her body, including the ones on her wrists. Her face started to go less pale and more to the tan color she’d had when Luz first met her at camp. Her gold eyes brightened, and Luz noticed with a smile that she looked a lot better. Amity finished chewing and looked at Luz, her cheeks pinkening.

“What?”

Oh, she was staring. Luz looked away quickly, her own face coloring.

“Nothing. I just have never seen that before. Does it do the same thing as nectar?”

Amity nodded, smiling softly at Luz’s curiosity. It was a weird look on Amity. For a while there when they met, Luz didn’t think she could do anything else besides scowl and stare blankly. “It’s ambrosia. If nectar is the drink of the gods, then ambrosia is the god's food.”

“I didn’t think the nectar would taste like my mom’s soup,” Luz admitted, and Amity laughed. It was a clear sound that rose in a crescendo, and Luz didn’t think a noise like that would have ever come out of her mouth. She wanted to try and make her laugh again.

“It tastes different to every demigod. It’s supposed to be your favorite tastes wrapped into one bite or sip.” She ripped off a little piece of the ambrosia, holding it out for her. “Here, try some.”

Luz hesitated, which was so out of character for her she almost couldn’t believe she’d done it. “Won’t it burn me up if I’m not injured?”

Amity laughed again, and Luz couldn’t help but smile. That was easier than she thought. “No, not an amount this small. Besides, I saw Orpheus step on your back. This will help with the pain.”

Luz felt her face heat up at the memory. Now that Amity had mentioned it, her lower back was killing her. But she would never admit it, not with Amity as injured as she was. “I’m alright.”

Amity pointed her nose up at Luz. “You’re not alright,” she said, mimicking Luz’s earlier tone. Luz’s cheeks flushed deeper and she decided it was worth shoving the ambrosia in her mouth if it meant Amity wouldn’t tease her anymore. The second she started chewing she hummed in approval. Her mouth was filled with the delicious sugary cinnamon taste of reganada’s.

“So good,” Luz said in awe, never wanting the taste to leave her mouth. Amity was quiet, watching Luz in amusement. When she finally did swallow, she realized that she had been right, the pain in her back was now gone, and the exhaustion in her arms from carrying Amity all the way here was also easing up slightly. Feeling embarrassed she’d almost denied needing the help, she smiled sheepishly at Amity.

“Thanks.”

She chuckled, “no problem.”

They were quiet for a few moments, neither of them sure what to say. Well, Luz knew what she wanted to say but her ADHD brain was running a hundred steps ahead of her. She wanted to ask about the prophecy, about what had happened in Colorado, about the man in the mountain. Amity seemed nervous, and she bit her lip, wringing her hands together. Just when Luz felt like she was about to burst, Amity finally spoke first.

“What did it taste like?”

Luz blinked. She definitely hadn’t been expecting Amity to ask that.

“Uh, reganada’s.”

This time Amity looked confused. “Huh?”

Luz chuckled softly, rubbing the back of her neck. “They’re like Mexican cinnamon cookies. When we lived in upstate New York closer to my Mami’s family we would have them after church or at baby showers and stuff. My Mami usually gives them to me when I managed to not get expelled from school that year.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Amity said with a smile, sharing the happy sentiment. Luz flashed her a nervous smile, fiddling with her hands. She always had a hard time making friends, and she didn’t want Amity to think she was a weirdo. She was lucky that Willow and Gus wanted to be around her, but she found that their friendship was easy, almost effortless. But with Amity things were tense and charged, likely because of their initial dislike for one another and the now shared double prophecy they were still skirting around together. Luz didn’t want to mess up and make Amity hate her again.

“What about you?” Luz asked, trying to keep it going. “What does ambrosia taste like for you?”

Luz knew it was a bad question the second she asked it. Amity’s face fell, and her mouth twisted into a frown. Luz immediately started apologizing.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s not a bad question.” Amity cut off quickly, shaking her head. After a short pause, she quietly added, “for me, it tastes like cherry pie.” She bit her lip, deep in thought, and Luz felt herself leaning in curiously as Amity seemed to get lost in the memory.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Luz began softly, and Amity hummed, looking at her with a smile, but it wasn’t soft like the other ones. This one was tense, almost sad.

“I’m sure Willow already told you anyway. When she first came to camp, she and I were friends. We used to play hooky from the campfire and steal cherry pie from the kitchens. We built a fort in the forest and ate it with our hands. We’d sit there for hours away from everyone else, keeping each other company.”

Luz smiles at the cute mental image. She had heard the story about how Willow and Amity had been friends, but when Willow had talked about it she was a lot more tense and upset about it. Luz couldn’t figure out why Amity was talking about it so nostalgically, especially since she had been the one to abandon Willow for her new friends. At the same time, she wasn’t opposed to Amity wanting to reconcile with her other friend, especially since they would be together on a quest and needed to work as a team.

Plus, Luz couldn’t help but think that she’d done something different with Amity and gotten her out of her shell a bit. Maybe she could create some shenanigans to get her and Willow back as friends. She was so lost in thought, she had to snap back to reality as she processed that Amity was still rambling.

“Nectar tastes like buttered popcorn for me. That’s another memory with Willow. We first became friends at movie night during Willow’s first week at camp. They were showing Disney’s Hercules, and all the other kids were mocking it for how incorrect it all was, but Willow just sang the songs to herself and smiling at me and soon I started joining in. After that night we were inseparable, even once she was sorted into the Demeter cabin and we couldn’t see each other as much but then after that year….”

She stopped, swallowing hard and looking ashamed. She tucked her knees up to her chest and looked away from Luz. “Well, I’m sure Willow told you what I did.”

Luz didn’t know why she felt sorry for Amity, especially since she just basically confirmed that Amity did in fact abandon Willow because of her interesting goldy parentage. As a friend, she should stand up for Willow, and call Amity out for being cruel. But instead, she just sat down next to Amity on the blankets, gently reaching out to touch her arm reassuringly.

“Look, Amity. We all do things we regret. All that matters is that we acknowledge what we did and try to move forward.”

The green-haired half-blood scoffed, keeping her eyes trained on the floor. As Luz scanned her face with her eyes, she realized that this look wasn’t just out of exhaustion or regret. She almost looked haunted. “I don’t deserve to have a person like Willow in my life. Why are you being so nice to me? I was terrible to you at camp.”

Luz shrugged, nudging Amity with her shoulder playfully, trying to cheer her up. “Most people tend to be terrible to me when they meet me. It must be a half-blood thing.”

Amity managed a half-smile and a weak laugh. Luz took that as a cue to move forward. Now she was more curious than ever. She just hoped she wouldn’t do her Luz thing and be too much. She leaned down to look Amity in the eyes.

“I know those memories must be painful for you, but what happened to you guys? And why are you both trying to hide it?”

Amity sighed tiredly, and Luz thought that despite being her age, Amity had an old soul that Luz could probably never understand. But Hades be damned she wasn’t going to try.

“There are a lot of things in my life that stop me from feeling like a real half-blood.” Amity started quietly, and Luz’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. She thought that Amity was as real a half-blood as she could get. I mean holy Zeus, she was chosen for the quest because of her skill and her reputation. But she didn’t voice this, instead, she did her best to listen and fidget as little as possible.

“I know you know that my mom is Aphrodite, but I don’t know if you knew that Edric and Emira are my full siblings, not just half like the other Aphrodite campers.”

She shook her head. She hadn’t known that.

“So, you guys have the same mortal father?” Luz concurred, and Amity tensed.

“Yes. But we also have the same mortal mother.”

Luz had never been more confused in her entire life. Thankfully, Amity didn’t want to continue.

“My parents are also demigods. They went to camp with Eda and Lilith as kids, and that’s how they met. They worked together to run a successful business inside of Olympus, and are well renowned by the Olympic Council. But they didn’t get together until after my father fell in love with Aphrodite. The twins were babies when my parents got married. My mother said she didn’t mind, she hadn’t planned on having her own children anyway. But then, when they were two and a half, Aphrodite left me on the doorstep. My mother was not happy about this.”

“Amity…” Luz began with a gasp, already knowing where this was going. Though it was clear how hurt she was telling the story, she still continued, swallowing hard before moving on.

“My mother told my father that because of their reputation on Olympus, and their status within the community, she would forgive him. She said as long as we turned out to be just as respectable as she was in the eyes of the gods, I would be welcome in their house. By the time I was three, I was taught to swing a sword. I already knew what camp was when I arrived, and I already had been given a standard to uphold. I had to be the best, the strongest, the most skilled, the most honored. Otherwise, I would always be a mistake.”

“So that’s why you stopped being friends with Willow,” Luz whispered softly.

“She was never the weak one, or the freak, or the half a half-blood,” Amity confirmed, her eyes betraying how ashamed she really was of this. “Willow is the strongest demigod I’ve ever met. And I had to be better, and that meant I couldn’t be her friend.”

There was silence, as Luz took time to process all of this. She couldn’t believe what Amity had just told her. She had known that being a half-blood was always going to be complicated, but Amity was like one of those massive puzzles her Mami never finished. How could you even unpack all that in one sitting?

“Is that true?”Luz and Amity jumped at the voice from the tent entrance, and Amity flushed with embarrassment when she saw Willow standing there, watching her with blank, unreadable eyes. Luz’s heart started hammering in her chest, worried that Willow was either going to snap at them both for talking behind her back or that Amity was going to yell at her for eavesdropping.

There was a tense and uncomfortable silence as the two of them stared each other down. Willow with those unreadable green eyes and Amity with gold eyes blinking in shock. Luz would have killed a thousand white eagles to know what would have happened next, but as all half-bloods have to deal with, they were unfortunately interrupted.

Gus screamed in terror from loudly outside the tent.

“Guys!” He yelped, and Luz could hear the click of his watch as he drew his shield. “We’ve got company!”

Luz jumped again, touching her ring and drawing the sword version of Aletheia. Willow and Luz shared a look before racing outside of the tent, and when Luz saw what was there she couldn’t help but think that maybe she was starting to understand why half-bloods were so unlucky.

Luz didn’t know a lot of Greek myths off the top of her head, but after meeting the guy, she had brushed up on his saga of quests with Gus just to see what all the fuss had been about. This monster was straight out of his legend, a massive man with the head of a bull, and huge horns circling his head. He was dressed in a Greek chest plate, and he was slashing down Willow’s thorns with his huge ax. They fell to the ground like he was slicing paper.

It breathed in a fury and roared so loudly that Gus shrank from behind his shield. Willow was soon at her side, and despite the fact that Luz knew she was way too exhausted to fight, Amity was there too, her own xiphos drawn, the amethysts glowing in the sun.

The four of them stood together, waiting for the Minotaur to tear down the last of the thorns and charge.

#the owl house #Percy Jackson AU #lumity #luz x amity #shelby speaks

[cattestfanciest]

Strawberries and Cream

This is a short piece that I wrote for @the-sloth-woman!

It is a Valentine’s Day au for her babs, Alrick and Lilly-

2549 Words 

WARNING NSFW

It was rare for Alrick to try this hard at anything- let alone seduction. His effortless charm and natural charisma was something that he couldn’t turn off if he wanted to. This was the problem with humans and their stupid holidays, at least once a year he had to think about what he was doing. 

He had sent Lilly out on an errand, which he knew was immediately the wrong thing to do- it was Valentine’s day, she obviously knew that he was up to something. He was smoother than that. He could have orchestrated some situation, demanding her attention. 

He grabbed another handful of rose petals and scattered them throughout the hall behind him. Alrick had seen this in several movies- a rose petal pathway leading to the romantic date spot. It seemed like the perfect combination of mystery and playfulness that Lilly would enjoy. He had a bunch of candles in the backyard, a thick comforter spread out on the ground, and a picnic basket full of sweet treats, fruit, and wine.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he had failed to notice that it was already growing dark outside. It wasn’t until he heard the engine of the car, and the crunch of gravel beneath its wheels that he knew that Lilly was home. 

“Fuck.” he muttered to himself. It was showtime, and he hadn’t even finished setting the stage. He ran towards the back door, dumping the rose petals as he ran. He let the door slam behind him- making him cringe internally. He knew that she would have heard that. Alrick dove for the comforter, trying to take up an effortless and sexy pose. He rolled up his sleeves- he knew that she would love that. 

Alrick found himself getting a bit stiff. He knew that Lilly had been right behind him, that’s why he had ran out of the back door in such a rush. Was she being held up by something? Was she punishing him for the obvious ruse? Was-  His heart stopped.

Was she mad at him for sending her out on Valentine’s day?

The idea was ridiculous, right? He was just psyching himself out. The whole “servant” thing was just a facade for his father, it had been months since he had acted like that to Lilly. The thought of her, crestfallen, thinking that they had taken a step backwards in their relationship was too much for him.

Alrick pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the grass and rose petals. He was going to set this straight, romance be damned.

“Alrick?” 

Alrick turned around, trying to keep the surprise from his face.

“Hey Lilly, did you get the groceries?” Inwardly he yelled at himself- The Groceries?! She’s right here, and that is your opening line?

“I did, I hope that I haven't been gone too long. We had to make an extra stop.” She looked at the spread behind Alrick and let a small grin over her face, “I hope that you haven’t been waiting too long.”

An eternity wouldn’t have been too long. 

“Not at all,” he said, “You are worth the wait.” He gestured towards the comforter. “I took the liberty of preparing dinner for us.”

“Dinner?” Lilly let out a small laugh, “All I see is a bit of fruit and cheese. If this is all that it takes to satisfy you, it looks like I’m about to be doing a lot less cooking.”

“I thought that it would be a good idea to stay out of the kitchen since the cake incident.” He pushed back his hair, some of his natural swagger returning, “Besides, I don’t want you to be too full for the main course.”

This was easier. The conversation was natural, and flowed from him without effort. He would crack a small joke, and she would giggle. Being with her felt like he had released a breath that he didn’t even realize that he was holding.

A dollop of whipped cream hit him squarely on the nose.

“Oops, looks like I missed.” Lilly grinned at him from under her red hair.

Alrick knew this game- he invented  this game.

“You know, this is very good whipped cream. I don’t break this out for just anyone.” He said teasingly, “And I can’t get this off myself. You’re just going to have to lick this off.”

She leaned forward, and licked his nose, her soft tongue tickling him slightly. Before she could pull away, he took a small handful of whipped cream and splat it against the side of her neck.

Lilly let out a small shriek.

“Alrick! You’re going to get me all sticky!” She said sternly. She wasn’t wrong either, the whipped cream was dripping down her neck onto her shirt- and worst of all, into her hair. Alrick smirked.

“Well, it looks like I have to lick it off of you now.” Alrick said with a devilish grin. He leaned forward with his tongue outstretched towards her delicate neck, only to be pushed back.

“No. You need to get me a wet towel.” She saw the protest in his eyes. “Please, Alrick? It’s in my hair.”

There was no fighting it. She had that look in her eye that he couldn’t resist. The way her face just looked so fucking cute. He rose to his feet, feeling slightly embarrassed, his grin slipping into a more sheepish grimace.

“I’ll be right back, Lilly.” He said, and was off. 

The hallways were dark, and with a passing thought he noticed that there were no rose petals by the back door. He stopped. He traced his way back to the main hallway where a small trail of rose petals ended in an abrupt pile, some blown in every direction.

Of course. He had forgotten that this was a stupid human tradition that he saw in a movie. If he had even thought for a moment he would have known that rose petals wouldn’t stay in place to form a neat path. And even worse, he had dumped the bucket in the hallway in his panic.

He shook his head and went to the kitchen to grab a towel, and moisten it with some water in the sink. Stupid human holidays.

Alrick absentmindedly opened the back door, thinking about what a flop this night had become, but froze stiff in his tracks.

Lilly laid effortlessly out on the comforter in a state of scandalous undress. His eyes wandered up her stockinged legs, up the thin trails of her garters. They followed the curve of her waist, her stomach, and up to the perfect pair of breasts, held in a cupless bra. She had been biting her lip softly, until she caught the expression on his face. 

She giggled, “It looks like it was worth the detour. I wasn’t sure if this was the right one, and it felt so awkward, like it barely counts as lingerie.”

Alrick slid over her in a moment, silencing her with a passionate kiss.

“Hey,” she teased, “I wasn’t done talking!” But the breathless tone of her voice, and the slight gleam of victory in her eyes said that this was exactly the response that she had hoped for.

“It looks like you still have some whipped cream here.” Alrick whispered into her ear as he traced her neck with his lips. He punctuated this with a small kiss- and a small bite. It wasn’t enough to break the skin- not even enough to really hurt, but he reveled in the small gasp that it brought from Lilly.

His hand traced over her stomach, following the lines to her hips, hooking his thumbs underneath the top of her underwear. Alrick peppered her collarbone with small kisses and nibbles, slowly working his way back up her neck and finding her mouth.

He sunk into a deep passionate kiss with her, their tongues lightly playing around each other, reveling in the taste of her. He bit her lip, eliciting another small yelp.

He pulled himself back to look into her eyes. She stared up at him in passion, in worship, and with complete desire. She wanted this as much as he did. He didn’t realize it, but she had unbuttoned his shirt while they had been locked in the kiss, and her hands were tracing lightly over his skin, every so often giving his shirt a needing tug.

He was going to take this slow- It’s Valentine's day after all-  he thought with a smirk.

He buried his face between her breasts. He could never articulate the feeling, so soft and warm, but he couldn’t linger, not just yet. He traced his hands downwards following with his mouth in a soft percussion of kisses. As he kissed lower and lower, Lilly’s gasps rose in intensity. When he was to her bellybutton, she was panting in desire. When he made it down to her thighs, she was lost in it. 

He slid a single finger into her, and her whole body stopped for a moment- as if a single breath would stop him.

Then the tension broke, as he plunged it deeper into her. Alrick caressed her thighs with his lips, slowly tracing back upwards to where they met. 

He could not resist. Her smooth thighs practically begged him to. So he did. He bit down into her left thigh, his fangs breaking through her delicate skin. 

“Alrick-” Lilly’s voice caught in her throat like a hiccup as a moan escaped her.

He drank her blood with fervour. It was sweeter than anything else that he could describe. Even if he had the use of all of his faculties, he would never be able to describe the taste, but to compare it to Ambrosia itself.

Alrick let his fangs slide free, keeping his hand moving in a constant motion, stroking her inner wall gently with every thrust. He kissed her gently, and then began working with his tongue.

Alrick lost himself in her, licking her. He flicked his tongue over her clit while continuing to tease her with his fingers. Every once in a while, he would pause to suck on it, long and hard, like he was passionately kissing her mouth. 

Lilly was softly panting his name, but seemed like she couldn’t get past the “Al-” part of it to save her life.Her hands twined and grasped into his hair, pushing his head downwards onto her.

Inside of Alrick, he felt a devilish grin. He knew what he was about to do to her.

Abruptly, he stopped.

“Ahhhh… Alrick?” Lilly whined up at him. Her eyes pleaded with him-

Don’t stop- for the love of EVERYTHING please don’t stop. They said.

Alrick freed himself of his pants, and the confusion left Lilly’s face, to be replaced with a look of- What was that? Smugness? Victory? Normally Alrick would have stopped just to win, but right now a raging storm pushed him forwards. He was physically incapable of stopping now.

He felt Lilly’s hands on his chest again, this time firmer- pushing him onto his back.

She was in control now- her head bobbing up and down on his cock. His shoulders rolled, and he felt tenser and more relaxed at the same time. 

Without even meaning to, a soft, “Fuuuuuuccck.” escaped his lips.

Lilly looked up at him, victory gleaming in her eyes. She slowly pulled her lips off of his shaft. She left her hand on his shaft, slowly rubbing its length, and pulled her lips right next to his ear.

“Is there something that you want, Master?”

It tore through him. One word- two syllables. It broke his resolve, leaving only raging tides of lust pulling him forward.

He grabbed Lilly by the hips, diving into her. Lilly’s weight pushed her down onto him, slowly enveloping him entirely.

“Ah-ahhhhhh.” A sigh of contentment and lust slipped from Lilly’s lips as their hips met.

Alrick never felt the cold, but he never felt as whole and as warm as he did when he was buried into Lilly entirely.

She began to slowly rock her hips, her hands planted firmly on his chest. She ground a steady rhythm, tightening and releasing as his cock slid in and out of her, sometimes coming dangerously close to leaving her warmth, but never quite coming out. His hips pulsed in time with hers, one hand clinging to her waist desperately, the other tracing up and down her body.

Alrick was intoxicated. With every thrust, his body felt a pulse run through him, as if every time their hips met it sent a heartbeat through his body. Every pulse wound him tighter, every time she settled down on his cock he felt his body grow tighter, and more sensitive.

Alrick gathered one hand on her waist, the other just below her shoulder, and sat up- pushing Lilly down further on his member. Her eyes widened in pleasure and surprise- her mouth making a soft, “Oh” shape.

All reserve gone, he pulled her to her back. He moved instinctually, knowing every curve of her body, every response she would have to every thrust. He felt his mind go blank as he kissed her, her breasts, her mouth, even the palms of her hands.

Alrick knew it was coming- he felt the tension in his hips, his chest, and in the way his thrusts grew more erratic. He knew Lilly was getting there too, in the way that she seemed to tighten around him. He wanted to pour into her, to see her filled with his thick, creamy-

She wrapped her legs around him suddenly, and he felt her tense underneath him.

“Oh fuck, Lilly” he moaned, letting go, arching his back and pouring himself into her, their bodies growing impossibly stiff as they panted in release to each other.

Lilly looked up at him, her breath shallow, sweat softly beading down her neck. Her arms wrapped gently around him. 

“I love you, Alrick.” she whispered. He felt a pull in his chest- it was sadness and warmth at the same time. If he had a heart- if he could love, he would have said it back. She was beautiful and perfect, he wouldn’t be able to help but love her. 

Instead of a response, he kissed her. It held the embers of the lust that had just taken them both, but it was still hot with their passion. He hoped that the kiss told her what he couldn’t say to her, and it seemed as though it did.

Alrick had let Lilly go to the bathroom, she needed to shower after their rendezvous. He had offered to join her, but she said that she actually needed to get clean- as if they couldn’t do both at once. He had already cleaned the comforter out back, and was sweeping the rose petals in the hallway. Normally he would have a familiar do it, but it felt nice to hold the broom, and to be doing something helpful. There were rose petals all over the foyer and hallway, and this would quickly become a chore. He chuckled to himself- if there was any day he was willing to put in some effort, it was Valentine’s day.

#alrick #lilly #lemon #gift writing #valentine's day #biting #i am not a writer #please forgive me #i tried my best

[black-wolf066]

TUA Season 2 Thoughts

Okay, I know I’m extremely late to the game here, and I’m sure a lot of people have already touched base on the good and bad moments of this season; so I promise that the bad points that I do touch upon, will be short cause I do want to focus on what I loved.

First and foremost, I want to say that I did love season 2 with my whole freaking heart! I was ooooooh so very wrong with a lot of my predictions (and right in others *cough* Lila *cough*) but as I continued watching, I couldn’t bring myself to care (not too much anyway, there were a few things I was mad at, but meh).

 I loved seeing Hazel and I loved that the big oaf at least got 20 years with Agnes before she finally passed on. While I wish we could have seen snippets of that life and love rather then just flash backs to them in season 1; I’m still happy that Hazel got to live his life the way that he wanted to live it. Sure, I wasn’t happy that they killed him off, but for plot purposes it made sense—but on a lighter note, at least he could cross over into the afterlife and be happy with Agnes again. Right?

 Elliott is a hoot and I feel so bad that he died. All that poor man wanted was validation that he wasn’t crazy (which he got) and for someone to eat his damn Jell-O (I love ambrosia btw, but even I wouldn’t eat that ambrosia he made… sorry Elliott).

The sibling interactions between ALL OF THEM!!! JUST AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! It’s everything I could have hoped for and then some!!! The slap fight between Klaus and Ben on the street, Ben’s “You’re so independent, you fight your own damn battles”. Five and Luther reuniting “She’s too young for you” “Dad should have left him on the moon” (I snort laughed at both of these sentences). Then there’s Klaus and Allison reuniting, Allison not even hesitating to jump into the pool to hug her brother. OR THE WHOLE FAMILY REUNION!!! That Vanya and Allison hug! That hug as Klaus joined in and planted a kiss on the top of Vanya’s head!!!! The whole interaction between Allison and Diego “Can’t say Hi to anyone?” just omg, I could go forking on and on with this, because the banter and snappy comments from all of them are just total sibling culture and I relate sooooooooo much to it. (best believe I will jump on someone’s back like a damn spider monkey to protect my siblings, but I’d also sooner shank them too)

RAYMOND AND ALLISON!!!!! I’m ALLLLLLLLL FOOOOOOR THIS RELATIONSHIP!!!!! LIKE OMG!!!!!! WHY DIDN”T SHE TAKE HIM WITH HER!!!!! THEY ALREADY SCREWED THE TIMELINE UP ENOUGH BY JUST EXISTING THERE IN 1963 ANYWAY!!!! Like seriously, I’m actually upset that she didn’t take him with her, and now it looks like her daughter doesn’t even exist either… like omg Allison, sweet heart. Nooooooo.

I LOVE Luther’s development this season, the fact that he goes to apologize to Vanya, and actually takes blame for what happened, just makes me happy to know that the big lug is trying. Yea I know he took the gun with him, but honestly, I can’t blame him either. He was obviously scared and didn’t know what he would walk into, would she try and kill him again? Like we know the gun wouldn’t do sh*t to help him, but Luther wasn’t sure of that. Plus he never actually pulls it, his hand is constantly on it, but he never pulls it out, which shows that hurting her was not the end game. He wanted to actually apologize and he hoped that his sister would hear him out enough to allow him to do it.

I loved sissy and vanya. The friendship that turned to romance was cute, and while I’m still iffy with it because Sissy was married, I also understand to a small degree that Sissy truly felt stuck. Even without Vanya’s interference, I highly doubt Sissy would have been able to get a divorce and manage to keep possession of her son. Carl is an absolute bag of d*cks, and with Carl having a brother in the police force, who’s to say that they couldn’t spin something that would allow them to take Harlan away from her? I honestly can see a divorce between these two getting messy and none of the outcomes working in Sissy’s favor. She would have never been happy inside or outside of her marriage. But Vanya gave her the hope that she might actually find it. (IDK, I’m still really on the fence with it, and the infidelity, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy Sissy/Vanya’s cute little moments while it lasted…)

Also, can I just say, Sissy blowing the scent of coffee into Vanya’s sleeping face, was truly and utterly adorable and such a dorky thing to do and I loved it.

ALL OF THE KLAUS AND ALLISON INTERACTIONS!!!! ALL OF THEM!!!

THAT SALON SCENE!!!

THAT DANCE AT THE SALON!!!

Also, not going to lie, Odessa was a bad ass b*tch and I love and will protect that woman as much as I will love and protect Raymond Chestnut. I don’t even care that Odessa was only in a few episodes, that woman stole my damn heart and I truly would have loved to see more scenes with her and Allison and the friendship they had.

The elevator ride going up to the light supper, the freaking conch shell, and the siblings’ interactions during the whole thing (Allison rumoring Diego to punch himself, and Vanya’s cheeky “oops” after showing off her powers, just *chefs kiss*).

Ben and Vanya!!! I FORKING CRIED!!! I had to bloody pause the damn episode because my tears were getting in the way of me watching!!!! (trust me, there was a long moment of silence for Ben after that.)

All of them piling into Vanya’s car on her way to save Harlan. That entire scene was a masterpiece “Child get in the back” followed by Klaus just flopping on top of Diego and Allison, like OMG!!! And Luther… poor Luther “If I hear one fat joke, I’m out”

Everything to do with Five and Older Five was hilarious. I’m sorry call me immature, but the fart jokes were funny (even if they did start to get old after a while). Also, poor Luther, once more. We stan one lousy spotter but a brother who tried his forking best anyway.

Luther being a big (little) brother and covering Allison AND Klaus during the hail of bullets.

Klaus being observant and noting things long before anyone else. Like even at the end, when Vanya was taking her power back, everyone else was watching her but not Klaus. He kept glancing around himself while also taking in the scene periodically. There is something there, I can forking feel it. Between that pill scene in season 1, him looking up to the moon with no reason to do so, him spotting The Handler and Lila, him knowing/guessing that Lila can only mirror one power at a time—despite never actually fighting her himself—it all has to add up to something??? RIGHT???

I didn’t think I would like the Swedes… yet here I am putting them in this column. Still mad that they killed Hazel (but as Five told Lila, the job was a job, it was never anything personal). They hardly had any lines at all but their personalities alone and the little things we saw were just… what the hell but I still loved it. haha.

 I CAN”T WAIT TO SEE IF WE LEARN MORE ABOUT THE OTHER CHILDREN MYSTERIOSULY BORN!!!!! Like I wanna see the sparrow academy kids, but I hope we might learn about a few others too. Like how many of those kids didn’t make it? How many of those kids were born with a twin? Were their any triplets??? Like can you imagine that poor woman who had to give birth to not one child, but two that she didn’t have an hour ago??? (and possibly three even though I doubt there were any triplets… but what if there forking was!!!)

SPARROW BEN!!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!! I mean, I’m glad Justin is staying on the show, he’s awesome and I do like Ben, but I’m a bit sad that this won’t be the Ben we’ve seen in the last two seasons (I’ll still eat it up, don’t get me wrong, cause I’m curious to see this alternate Ben, but I’m still sad).

 Also that Vanya and Diego interaction at the end, neither of them having to say anything but still leaning on each other for support, just AHHHHHHHH

The sibling bonds that have begun to form between all of them is what really killed me this season and I loved each and every second of it!!!

 All the one-liners were pretty good too, like the “Ikea mafia” “Think of Batman than aim lower” “Is it too late to be un-adopted?” just efgjoiwengjowegnwrjngwe

Vanya actually using her powers to save someone, and Ben solidifying that fact by telling her she isn’t a monster. 

the music choices!!!! 

 I’m sure I will add more to all of this in another post, I’m still forking reeling over here and can’t get all of my thoughts straight, but goddamn I loved this season! Dysfunctional idiots—the lot of them. But at least they were making dysfunctional decisions together XD

Okay, now for the things I didn’t like…

Again, I’ll be brief cause I know that there are probably plenty of people who have touched on this already and I’m sure you all are sick of seeing or hearing it by now (so feel free to skip over it all together).

Klaus not telling his family SEVERAL TIMES that Ben was there.

Ben possessing Klaus without his consent (and Ben breaking the rules that Klaus had put into place as Ben nearly got frisky with Jill)---like I can’t even say I’m mad that he possessed Klaus at the light supper. I didn’t like it, it made me uncomfortable, but from Ben’s perspective I understood it. to Ben, he felt like he didn’t have a choice, Klaus had constantly taken Ben’s choice away by not telling the family he was there, so if Klaus wasn’t going to tell them on his own, Ben had no choice but to try and do it himself. I get that, I did. But the whole “Burrowed” scene in the elevator made me cringe something fierce.

The fact that we get Klaus looking badass in the first five minutes of the season, and then Klaus basically being useless the rest of the season, pissed me the ever-loving fork off. I mean, come on!!! EVERYONE ELSE FOUGHT LILA!! WHERE THE HELL WAS HE!??? I’m hoping this is all just setting Klaus up to be something greater in the next season, that maybe now that Ben is gone Klaus will have no choice but to relay on himself and tap into that “Potential” that Reginald had hinted at in season 1 (my fingers are soooo crossed that this is the case)

Not getting their reactions to Ben sacrificing himself (I needed more then just seeing Klaus lying forlornly on a bed, I’m sorry, but I definitely needed more than that). Klaus and Vanya’s interaction in the car did not make up for any of it either.

I don’t know where to put my thoughts on Lila and Diego. While I liked them in the beginning, their relationship kinda lost me the moment she spiked him and basically kidnapped him. I like Lila, don’t get me wrong, but that scene made me really uncomfortable too.

The interactions with the Handler and Five. Like okay, I get that the Handler isn’t treating him like a child because basically Five is supposed to be 58, but it’s still forking creepy to see her swaying her hips behind Five who is stuck in his 13-year-old body. Just… no.

The fact that we only see Allison mentioning her daughter 2 times. Like sure, she’s had 2 years to grieve, but I want to see that grief!!!!

How the show tied Sissy and Vanya’s story line up, and how they tied Allison and Raymond’s story line up… like nooooooo. How the hell would Sissy be safe in the past???? Carl’s brother was a forking police officer??? Does she seriously think his brother isn’t going to come after her when he learns his brother is dead????? Also how is Raymond supposed to explain that he suddenly doesn’t have a wife anymore???? These things don’t just fix themselves!!! Like I understand Five saying they couldn’t come, that it could change things beyond repair, but all seven of them existing in 1963 in the first place has already forked everything up enough as it was.

(Ignore me, I’m just salty that we won’t be get any more Raymond/Allison interactions…)

Anyway, negatives pushed aside, I can’t stress enough how i did love the season!!! And I can not wait to see where season 3 goes!!! I HONEST TO GOD CAN NOT WAIT!!! In the mean time, I will be attempting to write several things for season 2… fix-its, in between moments, whatever I can think of. Let’s see where that goes.

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua spoilers #tua s2 spoilers #spoilers #my thoughts #likes and dislikes #i'm late to the game #oof #but at least i still watched it

[lilhemmo]

the forbidden fruit pt. eight

the forbidden fruit part eight: the oracle

ao3 | wattpad | masterlist | askbox | moodboards

summary: the reimagined persephone and hades au that nobody asked for. hades!sweet pea :)

word count: 3.9K+ warnings: brief ancient greek spoken - explanation at the end of the chapter part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

new parts every friday evening!

t h e    o r a c l e

Lilith's life is slowly slipping from his hands.

Sweet Pea holds his palm over her chest, forcing breath in and out of her lungs with the wave of his fingers as he wards off death with his words. He takes deep breaths as he tries to focus long enough to pull the poisoned words from her body, but his magic is not strong enough to rival the curse of Aphrodite.

"Η κατάρα του Ολύμπου," Sweet Pea mutters, forehead breaking out in sweat.

He knows the curse that Aphrodite placed on the mortal slowly dying in his arms all too well. It is one that she uses often to sicken humans, given that gods are not allowed to be directly involved with mortal deaths, it's one of the eldest laws. The curses the gods choose, however, usually weakens a person to the brink of death and then a natural illness takes them in their final moments, thus absolving them of any guilt but also giving them the satisfaction when the mortal dies.

Aphrodite's curse roots itself in the heart of the nearest living thing and turns their own emotions against them. The curse binds around the negative feelings and lashes out at the body internally, emphasized only to the extent of the negative aura emanating from the host.

Lilith's body has been poisoned so fatally due to her disdain for the gods and the resentment she holds for those who have scorned her. Her hate runs deep, and it is that very hate that is poisoning her body to the point of death.

"Πήγαινε στα κοράκια, την Αφροδίτη." Sweet Pea grunts in frustration, sitting back in the chariot. He looks down at the ground beneath them, the lush green grass almost waving in their direction, begging for her body to be returned to it.

Bubbles like seafoam dribble down from her mouth and Sweet Pea knows that it is a desperate move, but it is the last one that he has. He can hold off her death, but he will be strung out for the remainder of his life trying to keep this mortal alive, if one could even call it that.

He picks her body up daintily, cradling her head and legs as he steps down from the chariot and into the green field around them. Sweet Pea lays her body on the ground and the grass leans up to greet her.

"Παρακαλώ, γιαγιά, να θεραπεύσετε αυτό το θνητό. Απαντήστε στις προσευχές μου," he murmurs as he brushes his hands over the ground. Sweet Pea squeezes his eyes shut and rests his palms on her body, repeating the prayer until his lips turn dry.

Small strands of green wrap around her fingers and ankles, flowers bending towards her skin. Bit by bit, Sweet Pea can feel the curse lifting as his struggle to keep her breathing lessens. He holds his hand over her chest nonetheless, warding off her death until the Mother of Earth can work her own kind of magic.

It takes hours, but finally her skin turns back to it's beautiful, rich color, and the bubbles cease from foaming down her lips. A gasp parts her mouth and she sits up, breaking away from the chains of the earth with small snapping sounds. Flowers fall into her lap and settle in her hair.

"Σας ευχαριστώ, γιαγιά," Sweet Pea whispers as she bumps into his chest. He wraps the mortal in his arms to be sure that she is steady.

The feel of her breath against his shoulder relieves the weight he has carried for the better part of a day. Her hands tremble against his tunic, holding tightly as if to be sure that he is real.

"What is going on? Where is Aphrodite? Did she hurt you?" Lilith spouts, looking up into his eyes with such ferocity that he's afraid she might march back up the hill and get herself killed again.

Sweet Pea chuckles as he shakes his head, "No, my little mortal, she did not harm me. How are you feeling?"

"Like I tried to drink ambrosia," Lilith swallows. She blows a breath out of her lips and sighs, "What happened?"

He takes a breath, deciding whether or not to tell her of the curse Aphrodite placed on her heart. He cannot risk her running away to put her knife to the throat of the goddess who almost killed her.

"If I tell you, you must promise me you will not act." Sweet Pea speaks sternly, brow pulled in tight. Lilith does not answer, but the look she gives him is enough. He sighs, "Aphrodite cursed you when you angered her. The curse feeds off of the negative emotions in your heart. Your emotions were so strong that you nearly died."

Lilith swallows thickly, her throat bobbing. She runs a hand through her hair before pressing her palms to her face. "I'm sorry, Sweets. I just didn't know what to do when she started speaking to you in such a way."

"I've told you a thousand times and it seems I'll tell you a thousand more – I can handle my own against my family, Lilith. You, however, can be at a serious risk."

She licks her lips, and her voice is earnest when she apologizes, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Sweet Pea nods. He brushes a few blades of grass from her collarbone and allows his thumb to linger for a moment too long against her skin. "Hopefully this will have taught you that you might should listen when I give you a warning."

Lilith turns her head so her cheek is pressed to his knuckles on her skin, "You know me better than that, Sweets. I never listen."

"It will be your undoing," he answers, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

---

"The mouth of the river is not far from here," Sweet Pea tells her as he pulls on the reigns. The horses' hooves plunder deep into the ground, forcing them forward at god-like speed. "We'll be there in a couple of hours, you should rest."

Lilith glances up at him from her corner of the chariot. She holds the blanket of darkness tighter against her body, the shadow-like fabric giving her comfort. "The Oracle is there? At the mouth of the river?"

"Yes, that is the information the goddess gave me before I left her temple," Sweet Pea answers. He looks off into the distance, the rocks in his belly piling high as the reality of what they're doing settles further into his stomach.

"And you believe her?" Lilith deadpans.

Sweet Pea shrugs, "I had no other choice. Your life was at stake."

There is a pause of quiet, but Lilith's eyes never leave his face. She studies him in his pensive thoughts; jaw tight, muscles quivering. His eyes are dark and hard, almost onyx like with their jeweled appearance.

"Did you save me?" she asks after too many moments of silence.

He turns to look her in the eyes, watching her as she watches him. There is nothing but curiosity in her irises, the deft look of a little animal settled in her expression.

"I believe my grandmother saved you," he answers simply.

Lilith shakes her head, determination settling into her jawline. She swallows, "No, I felt something while I was dying. I-I felt you."

Hades' brows knit together, small creases appearing on his forehead as he plays dumb, "And how might you think that you felt me, little mortal?"

"If I had died, I would have gone to your realm, would I not?" Lilith asks. She sits up, the shadow blanket pooling around her waist. Goosebumps rise on her arms, but she presses on nonetheless. "Should my soul have left my body, it would have traveled to the Realm of Darkness, to Hades. You have the power to keep souls out, or to let them in."

She waits for him to respond. One minute. Two.

His silence is her answer. Lilith bites her lip before continuing, "I think I felt you keeping me here, like a tether. It was as if a rope were bound around my body and someone was anchoring me to this world."

"When mortals are about to die, they see and feel incredible, intense things," Sweet Pea shrugs, looking forward. He fights the blush on his cheeks that might tell her the truth. "I would not look far into your illusions, little mortal. You may spend too much time trying to make sense of them and yet, still nothing seems clear."

"I know what I felt," she says decisively, narrowing her eyes at him.

Sweet Pea turns and touches her cheek with his knuckles as he flashes her a smile, "And why on earth would the god of the dead save a mortal life?"

"Maybe because you just couldn't get enough of me while I was living."

Lilith is teasing, and Sweet Pea knows she is teasing, but it still causes some sort of swirling in his abdomen. He retracts his hand and uses it on the reigns, holding tight. Instead of looking at her, he forces his gaze forward, watching as the mouth of the river comes closer the longer they ride.

"You do know you're going to have to face it eventually," Lilith breaks the silence. She drapes herself across the chariot bench with her head in his lap, picking at the wayward strands of his pants.

Sweet Pea gapes down at her, unsure of where she pulled the notion that she was allowed to do such a thing. But, she does it with such confidence that even he feels like it's right.

"Face what?" he asks, voice uncharacteristically low as he tries to hide the surprise in his tone.

She looks him directly in the eyes, the stormy gray-purple of her irises searching him, "Zeus."

The single word sends a chill up his spine and so he does not respond, instead only looking forward. Sweet Pea watches as the sun fades to the moon and then the sun again, the mortal asleep in his lap. She snores lightly, her dark curls whipping around her face as wind stirs the chariot forward.

He finds the easiest place to rest his hand is on her hip, as not to disturb her and to be polite simultaneously. Somehow his thumb begins to brush back and forth in a lulling motion, more for himself than for her.

Sweet Pea's heart aches the closer they get to the mouth of the river, reality settling over him like a chill in the air. He should be used to the cold.

But somehow, the cool breeze feels nothing like home.

---

"Lili."

She hears it like a voice in a dream.

"Little mortal, awaken."

Lilith blinks her eyes blearily, rubbing at them with one free hand. She swallows and the sunlight filtering through the trees startles her eyes. She grunts, cowering back against the firm body behind her.

"Sweets," she gripes. Lilith slowly peels her lids back to look up, but he's already gazing down at her. There's a puzzled look on his face when he hears the all-too familiar nickname tumble from her lips.

"Did I do something?" she asks immediately, sitting up so she's face-to-face with him. Her eyes never waver from his, almost as if she's searching deeply for something he knows she won't find. He's too good at hiding.

"No, no," Sweet Pea shakes his head. "It's just-I've been waiting for you to call me something else."

"Why would I call you by anything other than your name?"

He licks his lips and his brows knit together, crinkles tethering to his forehead, "So, you do it deliberately, then?"

Lilith laughs and pats his knee with her palm, "Yes, and no." She bites her lip and leans into him, surprised at the warmth his body radiates, "I didn't know it was your name when I started calling out to you."

When she retracts her hand from his body, he feels cold where her touch once was. He wonders if this is the warmth playing with his mind again, forcing him to believe he feels something when in fact he is only being manipulated. He is cautious when he speaks to her again.

"I believed it was the way you mortals approached one another. An overly affectionate name, maybe, but you've proven you are unlike any other mortal I've ever known." He allows himself to chuckle as he takes her in again. It's as if there's a never-ending fountain in her presence; he finds himself unable to look away, to stop drinking her in.

"I'm sure any other mortal might find that to be something other than a compliment," Lilith giggles behind her tanned hand. She blinks, sunlight filtering like gold against her silvery irises. "Honestly, the fact that you did not throw me to the wayside has always been the biggest compliment you could have given me."

Sweet Pea's hands ache to reach out and touch her face, her arm, her knee. He just wants contact with her so he can feel that surge of safety she emits. Instead, he balls his hands to fists and cradles them in his lap.

"Mortals are not usually very entertaining. They all only want one thing when they come to visit me, and generally their forthcoming has something to do with trying to behead me."

They both share another laugh and then he asks the question he's been dying to know the answer to ever since he first heard his name from her mouth: "Why did you decide to call me Sweets?"

Lilith tilts her head, reminding the god of his pet Cerberus when he becomes confused. She bites the inside corner of her lip and her chest deflates, "It was the flowers."

Sweet Pea mimics her motions, cocking his head and leaning closer to her. She smiles in a reminiscent sort of way as she looks up at him, "The only flowers that grew by your temple were sweet peas. I assumed you either did it on purpose, or it was a happy accident, and so I just started calling you Sweets. It seemed fitting."

"Sweets seemed fitting for the god of the dead?" He snickers, resting his arm against the back of the chariot. "You really are a strange one, little mortal."

Lilith shrugs, "I never planned to make my legacy about being normal."

Sweet Pea can't help it as he stares down at her, trying to memorize her features just in case her visit to the Oracle burns her alive. There are some mortals that do not come back from their visit with the deity, but he knows this is not something he can talk his mortal into backing away from. 

"The Oracle is down by the riverbend," he starts, unable to pull himself away from her intoxicating presence. He nods in the direction of the Oracle, "I was going to go by myself, while you were asleep, but I assumed you'd rather strike me than let me go alone." Sweet Pea pushes her hair away from her eyes and lets his fingertips linger just a moment too long.

She nods, a fond smile creeping onto her lips, "You were right to assume."

They stand up and Lilith smooths out her skirt before stepping down from the chariot. Sweet Pea calls out for the Oracle, and a few shadows around the river begin to shimmer in the sunlight.

"Beautiful nymphs!" Lilith practically squeals, abandoning the god and rushing to the riverbed. She gracefully falls to her knees at the edge of the water, scooping her hands through the liquid and giggling as the nymphs come out to greet her. She gushes over them and the moment allows Sweet Pea to locate the Oracle.

She is a beautiful woman with flowing dark hair to her ankles, and eyes that look wise beyond her years. They are glowing white coals, stoked by the secrets of prophecies. Her skin is warm, glistening in the sun the color of honey. She has gold bangles wrapped around her wrist and hoops dangling from her ears. Her lips are full and dark, tantalizing at the thought of hearing your future.

"Truth Teller," Hades greets. He is gentle with his speech, approaching her slowly. "I need to hear a prophecy."

She turns and her eyes look eerily empty, her voice sounding far away, "Oh dear of the dark, hath you no other request from me?"

"No, Oracle," he answers plainly. He bows his head quickly, "I know I cannot hear the prophecy directly, as I do not wish to change the contents of its words. However, I brought with me a companion-"

"I can see the future, Hades, therefore I do know that you've brought a companion." The way the Oracle says the word resounds like an insult to Sweet Pea's ears. He narrows his eyes slightly as she continues, "I also know of the prophecy you seek. I should warn you that this will not end the way you think."

"I know," Hades grumbles, wondering when the warnings will cease. "That is why the mortal will be the one hearing the prophecy."

"No, you do not understand, the mortal is the-" The Oracle goes to speak, but Lilith has stumbled up the hill with a laugh, interrupting her. The human girl sighs, wiping her forehead before glancing up at the deity.

"Oh wow," Lilith gushes, "you must be the Truth Teller I've heard so much about."

Sweet Pea presses his palm to the base of her back, leaning down to murmur in her ear, "Please be careful, Lilith."

"Don't be silly, little god," Lilith winks, pressing her palms to his chest. She lingers her gaze on his eyes long enough to see the fear in them. "I will be fine. I'll get to the bottom of this and then we can go home."

All Sweet Pea can think about is how many mortals the Oracle has liquified with her truth; how many lives she has taken because her words are too heavy for the human heart and mind to bear.

He licks his lips and goes to speak, but she interrupts him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The god is stunned, hands hovering over her waist as she settles back to her place flat-footed on the ground.

"Be careful, or your hair might burst into flame," Lilith smirks. She gnaws on her lower lip for half a second and the same stirring in his stomach makes Sweet Pea's mouth burn. Lilith pulls on the front of his tunic, "I'll be fine."

"I know," he answers truthfully. Sweet Pea licks his lips and touches a stray curl against her temple one last time. "Call out if you need me. I won't be too far away."

"Sure," Lilith tells him. She presses her palm to his chest to push him away from her so she can look him in the eyes, "There is nothing to worry about. I'm a damsel, but I'm hardly in distress."

He fights a smile on his face but he the memories of what the Oracle has done to some mortals makes his blood boil. Sweet Pea swallows before boldly leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead.

Neither of them speak as he pulls away. Her hand trembles at his pectoral and their eyes meet.

"Careful," he repeats one last time before letting her go. "Please."

Lilith nods, her lips sticking together and words unable to be formed in her throat. Her fingertips linger on the threads of his tunic, but he takes another step back and she's forced to be free of him.

The Oracle begins to recite Ancient Greek and a shadow falls around the forest, encasing the two in a sphere of darkness. Lilith feels a chill start at the base of her spine and work its way around her entire body, freezing her extremities and drying out her mouth and eyes.

"Truth Teller," she speaks despite the sandpaper-feeling of her tongue, "tell me the Prophecy of Hades."

The ground begins to shake as the Oracle's eyes glow white-hot, blinding Lilith and bringing her to her knees. She digs her hands in the dirt but does not allow herself to look away, instead focusing her gaze on the Oracle's lips as Ancient Greek words spill like smoke into the air around them.

"You shall one day stake your claim,

choose to live or die, to kill or maim."

The Oracle's smoke-laden words wrap around Lilith's throat like a vice, a barely there veil of burning smog pricking at her skin. She steps closer, watching as Lilith trembles in the dirt, hands dug into the soil at her feet.

"You can choose to cast the traitor out,

but beware this will cause both fear and doubt."

Lilith's legs are encased in vines now, flowers sprouting up around her knees and knuckles as she kneels in the grass. Tears flow down her freckled cheeks, stony eyes unable to focus as the Oracle moves closer.

"Should the child of darkness grow in strength,

Zeus's reign will have reached its length."

The tendrils of the Oracle's words take Lilith by the ankles and the wrists, but cannot pluck her from the ground. The vines around her extremities are too strong, holding her tight like an anchor to the ground. Her spine strains under the stress of the two sides tugging her in such opposite directions. She holds in a sob and prays that the Oracle's final words are close.

"A lightning bolt will decide the fate

of those who have come at a later date.

The family of some may have chosen the future,

but the actions of one will begin the overture."

The world collapses and for a second, Lilith forgets how to breathe.

The Oracle retreats into the woods, off in the distance, to visit her next victim. Lilith clutches at her throat to try and find her breath again. She chokes as the air tries to enter her lungs, but it's like her esophagus has shrunk and cannot allow her to inhale.

A familiar voice echoes her name in the distance, but she knows she will be dead long before they arrive. And so, Lilith listens to the call of the earth around her and falls on her back into the grass and looks up into the sky. The trees create a canopy around her, but she can still see pieces of the blue sky above peeking through the leaves.

Just as before, vines wrap around her body and flowers sprout between her fingers and toes. The petals beg her to breathe and somehow she finds it within her to listen.

"Lilith?!" his desperate cry comes from behind the brush of the woods. Sweet Pea is frantic when he finds her body sprawled out on the ground. He cradles her neck and brushes his palm over her cheek to try and flush some color back into her face.

A gasp parts her lips and her body arches in the air, begging for more breath.

Sweet Pea cradles her head to his chest, nose buried in her hair, "I thought I'd lost you twice already."

"Won't be that easy," she wheezes into his pectoral. Lilith grips onto his tunic as if her life depended on it, knuckles turning white, flower petals still lingering on her skin.

He drops his forehead to press against hers, their eyes locking. The slightest of smiles upturns his lips and she wonders what exactly he's thinking about, but she's too exhausted to question it. Instead she brushes her fingertips along his jaw line briefly before whispering, "I know the Prophecy."

-

Greek Translations:

"Η κατάρα του Ολύμπου.""Curse Olympus."

"Πήγαινε στα κοράκια, την Αφροδίτη.""Go to the crows, Aphrodite."

"Παρακαλώ, γιαγιά, να θεραπεύσετε αυτό το θνητό. Απαντήστε στις προσευχές μου.""Please, grandmother, heal this mortal. Answer my prayers."

"Σας ευχαριστώ, γιαγιά.""Thank you, grandmother."

-

a/n: i know it’s been a while, but what do you think about part eight?!?! leave me a little love note in my ASK if you’ve been feeling or missing this story!!

-

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#sweet pea #sweet pea one shot #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea blurb #sweet pea x lilith #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x original character #riverdale #riverdale x oc #riverdale imagine #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #my writing #fic: the forbidden fruit #fic: forbidden fruit

[agwitow]

Persephone’s Birthday

an excerpt from Born in Between, the short story version of Hades and Persephone’s marriage as it fits into my Legend’s Legacy series

“Persephone Kore Olympiad!”

The young woman running through the field flinched at the sound of her mother’s voice. She debated whether she could pretend she hadn’t heard or not, but quickly pushed the idea from her mind. It wouldn’t have mattered how far away she was. Her mother’s voice would always find her, wherever she was, in the Between. As much as she wanted to continue exploring the dream-shaped fields left by the mortals who brushed against the Between, she knew her mother simply worried about her.

Persephone let the world around her ripple so, that in a mere three steps, she stood on the threshold of her home. What had been a simple two-room dwelling that morning was now a sprawling, multi-storied mansion. She grimaced. That only happened when the other Olympians came to visit.

“Mother? You called?” She stepped inside and let the Between whisper the new layout of the house to her. A ridiculous waste of space with rooms for dozens of guests, three separate courts, and even private bathing areas attached to both the gynaeceum and andron. 

“There you are,” Demeter said, exiting from a small antechamber between the courtyard and a modest throne room. Her hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves, with flowers, sheaths of wheat, and twining vines scattered throughout the loose strands. Her gown was a rich green with golden stitching, and she wore a hammered bronze necklace with pigs and snakes depicted in such detail they almost seemed real.

Persephone’s heart sank. Such finery meant her uncles were coming.

“Where have you been? I told you we had guests coming for supper.”

“I thought I had time—it’s barely past midday.”

Demeter shook her head and the scent of sun-warmed dirt and spring rain on leaves wafted from her swishing hair. “It is your seventeenth year, my love. They will have gifts and well-wishes to bestow upon you. Before the meal.”

She sighed. “Why do they even need to come? This might be my seventeenth year, as we count them, but I’ve watched almost 500 mortal years pass by. I’m too old to be paraded in front of them like…some sort of pet.”

“Persephone!”

“It’s true, Mother. Simply because I might be mortal, they treat me differently.”

“They are not accustomed to thinking about death. It is…not easy for us.”

Persephone crossed her arms and pouted. “Everything dies, eventually. Even immortals.”

Demeter’s lips quirked up into a brief smile before pursing into a frown. “Be that as it may, you are a grown woman now. It would be unheard of to not celebrate. Though, I suppose I could let the cousins know we’ve decided on a smaller affair.”

“No, if my uncles are coming, then I’d prefer our cousins come too. Some of them make me uncomfortable.”

“Hades does have that effect on people.”

“No, I meant—”

Demeter cut her off with an apologetic smile. “We’re running out of time, my love. May I prepare you?”

Persephone blew out a huff of breath before nodding and closing her eyes. It was a strange sensation to have someone else bend the Between around her. When the uncomfortable tingles passed, she opened her eyes and gazed down at herself. Her gown was cut similarly to Demeter’s, but in a pale green with shimmering blue stitching instead. No heavy, hammered necklace encircled her neck, but her long golden-brown hair was braided and piled atop her head like a crown. She was sure there were flowers woven into the braid, but didn’t particularly care which kind, so she didn’t feel the need to go in search of a mirror.

“Ah, my darling daughter, I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”

She smiled and hugged her mother. Demeter hugged her back so fiercely she felt as if her breath was being squeezed out. After a moment, Demeter took a step back and cupped her cheeks.

Tears swam in Demeter’s eyes. She laughed and pressed a kiss to Persephone’s forehead then stepped back and cleared her voice. “Come, let us wait in the dining hall. The Servers will let us know when our guests start arriving.”

They retreated to the end of the courtyard and passed through into a long hall filled with comfortable chaises, plush pillows, extravagant rugs, and low tables. One of the chaises in the middle of the room was wreathed in flowers and woven grasses. A small pile of bundles wrapped in colourful linens sat atop the table directly in front of the decorated seat.

“Mother,” Persephone laughed. “I thought I told you to only get me one gift this year.”

Demeter smiled. “It’s a mother’s right, and pleasure, to buy her daughter as many gifts as she wants.”

She shook her head with a rueful chuckle and eyed the pile with a mixture of resignation and curiosity. As soon as she’d settled onto her chaise, Demeter placed the first of the gifts in her lap. “Mother…”

“Shh. These are gifts just between us. I have another one, for when our guests are here.”

Persephone sighed and unwrapped the first gift. “Oh! It’s lovely!” She lifted the delicate flower out of a velvet-lined box. Golden petals curled away from the dark stamens and streaks of rich purple stretched out along the petals. She breathed in deeply and got lost in the soft scent of vanilla and distant waves.

“It’s a sunset glory.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Demeter smiled sadly. “It’s taken me a very long time to grow one. They were my favourite flowers back…well, before.”

Persephone’s eyes widened. None of the gods liked to talk about the world they had all fled from. Her mother always said it was too painful to remember. The little she knew about it consisted primarily of the fact that the six who first discovered how to escape to the Between formed the heart of the Olympians. Zeus, Hera, Demeter, Poseidon, Hades, and Hestia. They rescued as many others as they could, but so many more were lost when that world died. Though no blood tied them, they were forever siblings afterward.

Demeter cleared her throat and picked up another gift. “Anyway, open your other gifts, my love.”

Persephone nodded and gently placed the flower back in its box. The other gifts were all lovely and appreciated, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from returning to the box cradling a remnant of a lost world. It was by far the most precious gift she’d ever received.

The last present had barely been opened when a whisper of air brushed past Persephone and stopped beside Demeter. The invisible Servant said something and Demeter nodded. The Servant quickly whisked itself away and Persephone shivered. The Servants were unsettling. They were the memoryless remnants of mortal spirits, gathered up by the gods, once they left the realm of Hades, to do their bidding until it was time for them to be reborn into the world. But she could never shake the feeling that some of them retained something. Some of them seemed to watch with a hunger and resentment.

Her musings were interrupted by another Servant whisking away her opened gifts a moment before the first of their guests were shown to the dining hall. A gaggle of cousins seemed to tumble through the doors, chattering and laughing, while two servants carried their gifts.

“A pleasure, Cousin,” one of them said, barely sparing Persephone a glance before eyeing the hall.

At a gentle nudge from Demeter, Persephone smiled. “Thank you for coming. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth before they spread out around the room. They were more concerned with their flirtations than in celebrating her birthday. She didn’t particularly care—they were not any of the cousins she was close with—but she wished she had the power to smite them. Just a little. Just enough to make them mind their manners.

The next guests distracted her from daydreams of retaliation. From that point on, it seemed as if a steady stream of people flowed into the room. There were cousins from distant lands, and local cousins she’d only ever met a time or two before, and those she saw frequently. She was especially happy to see Athena and Hestia, and disappointed that Apollo had brought yet another of his mortal lovers. But once everyone was there, it was her aunts and uncles who dominated her attention.

“Ah, seventeen, what a lovely age to be,” Zeus declared. He winked and saluted her with a goblet of wine.

Hera snorted and rolled her eyes. “You old sot, do you even remember what it’s like to have been that young?”

“I’m not that old—”

“You are 172. You are old, my husband.”

Zeus huffed. “And what about you, my darling wife?”

Hera smiled and took a demure sip of wine. “I am a mere 61. You were already old when I married you.”

Poseidon laughed loudly, wine slopping from his goblet to splash against his beard. Amphitrite absently patted a napkin against the drip without breaking off the almost-whispered conversation she was having with one of her nereid sisters. “She’s got you there, Brother.”

“Oh, be quiet. None of us are young. Not even our baby brother.” Zeus scowled, though it didn’t seem to bother any of them.

Hestia tsked. “We are not here to throw insults at one another.”

“No, we’re here to welcome our lovely niece to the doddering ranks of the elderly, are we not?” Hera asked with a wry twist of her lips.

Zeus sighed with exasperation. “Hera, she’s seventeen. At least save your scathing bitterness until she’s had a few years to enjoy being an adult.”

Demeter cleared her throat and shot the pair a warning look. “I am glad you could all make it, but I would prefer if you would leave the domestic disputes outside.”

“Apologies,” Zeus replied. Hera merely gave a strained smile.

Demeter shook her head and gestured for the Servants to bring out the food. Platters of meats, fruits, pastries, cheeses, and nuts were piled on the tables. Everything had a faint golden glow, a telltale sign of it being made from ambrosia—the solidified sustenance they drew from mortal worship. Honey-sweet and rich, ambrosia was considered a delicacy. Persephone might have agreed if she was ever allowed to eat anything else.

She envied the mortals for their foods full of interesting scents and colours. Even the simplest of food held a robustness that ambrosia lacked. But her mother was very insistent she never let a morsel of mortal food pass her lips. Doing so could diminish what little divinity she possessed. Though she felt it was worth the risk, her mother certainly didn’t.

“Really, Demeter, couldn’t you have included something real amongst all this ambrosia?” Poseidon grumbled.

Demeter stiffened. “Do you have any idea how much this cost me?” she asked, her voice low and harsh.

“I don’t know why you expend so much energy, Sister,” he said. “Between the food and this place…wouldn’t it be easier to just take what the mortals so freely offer us?”

Persephone stilled, her eyes locked on the food in front of her. She didn’t want them to realize how closely she was listening to their conversation, but she desperately wanted to hear more.

“Shh,” Demeter hissed. “I won’t have you putting ideas into her head.”

“She’s made it to seventeen,” Poseidon said, lowering his voice only a little. “Whatever mortality you felt at her birth must have fled long ago. She is as immortal as any of us.”

“I will not risk it.”

Zeus drummed his fingers against his goblet. “It does seem a little excessive, Sister. You must be exhausted.”

She gave him a tight smile. “I would pay it twice over, to keep her safe.”

“You could always come live at Olympus,” Zeus offered. Hera rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree.

Demeter shook her head. “It is a kind offer, Brother, but I’ve never felt comfortable there. You know this.”

“Pay them no mind, my dear,” a soft voice on the other side of her chaise said. She turned to see Hades studying her with a worried frown. Only then did she realize she’d gripped her own goblet so tightly the stem was bent.

“I dislike being talked about as if I weren’t here,” she admitted, her own voice pitched low so as to not draw the attention of her mother.

His frown slid into a smile so small and mischievous it seemed as if it were binding them together in some playful secret. “There is more fire and stone in you than any of them give you credit for.”

Persephone flushed in delight. No one thought she was anything but a delicate flower, beautiful and to be admired, but also protected. Fire and stone could take care of itself.

“Now, I know the presents will all be opened later in the evening, along with much pomp, but I would love for you to open my gift now,” he said, that little smile still lighting up the hard planes of his face.

She shot her mother, uncles, and aunts a quick glance, but none of them were paying her any mind. She turned back to Hades with a smile. “It might not be the tradition, but it is my birthday.”

“That’s the spirit.”

He pulled a tall, thin box from the pile of gifts and pushed it toward her. The box was engraved in looping swirls, all stained a dark brown, like fresh-turned earth. Her fingers glided across the engravings, picking out the shapes of owls, rams, and snakes. She thought some of the other patterns might be plants, but it was harder to differentiate them.

“There is a gift inside the box,” Hades said, his voice holding the hint of laughter.

“Oh! Right, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, my dear,” he said. “It is…satisfying to see someone appreciate something I made.”

She blinked and turned to face him fully. “You made this?”

A flush crept across his cheeks and the tops of his ears. “I find working with wood is soothing. I, uh, thought some of it might be put to use.”

Her breath escaped her and it took a moment for her to reclaim it. “Thank you, Uncle. It’s a gift in and of itself.”

His gaze darted away, though the colour in his cheeks deepened. “Please, call me Hades. You’re not a child any longer. You’re my equal now.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re an Olympian, Uncle…Hades. I couldn’t hope to be your equal.”

His gaze jerked back to her and she felt like a mouse captured by a hawk. “Do not let anyone make you feel lesser, Persephone Olympiad. You have as much importance as any of us.”

“Persephone, darling,” Demeter said, her voice sickly sweet. “What are you and Hades discussing so intently?”

Persephone pulled away from his gaze reluctantly. “I was admiring the box he…his gift is in.” Some part of her knew no one else would appreciate that he had made it himself. Not when any of them could wave a hand and create something just like it with very little effort.

Demeter glanced at the box, her mouth twisting with distaste for a moment. “I suppose you must be bored and wanting to open your gifts. But I beg your patience, my darling. Our kin have not finished their meal.”

“I know. I was just going to open this one. The others can wait.”

Demeter blinked. “Persephone?”

She fought back her embarrassment. She’d never spoken to her mother like that before, but the words fire and stone seemed to be reverberating through her. This was a celebration of her becoming an adult. No matter how many traditions they adopted from the mortals, she would not forget that, by their own traditions, she was her own person now.

“Very well.” Demeter turned her attention to Hades and frowned. “Though I do not appreciate you encouraging her lack of manners.”

Persephone almost laughed again. Her lack of manners? How many of their kin had barely greeted her before seeking out a seat and wine? They didn’t deserve any more respect than they’d shown her. Any remaining misgivings she’d had about opening his gift early were washed away.

Despite her lack of care about being considered rude, she was acutely aware of her mother, aunts, and uncles watching her. She took a breath and focused on the box. She’d been holding it so long the wood had borrowed some of her warmth. She wondered if Hades’ hands would feel as soft and silky. The thought brought an instant flush to her cheeks and she shoved it ruthlessly away.

A simple clasp held the box closed. She lifted the top and reached inside to pull out the gift. A smile lit her face as she revealed a small, potted pomegranate tree. Three ruby-red fruits hung from its branches, like jewels nestled amongst the leaves.

“Pomegranates? A little risque for a young woman, don’t you think?” one of the nearby cousins drawled. Persephone had to strain her memory to remember the name. Aphrodite. Goddess of Love. They’d only met once before—Aphrodite had little patience for children, and Demeter didn’t approve of how many mortal lovers she took.

“They are not simply symbols of desire,” Hades said, his voice soft and rumbling. Persephone wondered if she were imagining the note of uncertainty in his tone.

“No, they’re also the only fruit that grows in your realm,” Demeter said with open distaste.

Persephone couldn’t help the delighted gasp as she turned to him. “Did you grow this yourself?”

“Ah,”—he shifted uncomfortably—“I know it might seem a foolish gift for the daughter of Demeter—”

“No, no, I love it. Thank you!”

“Hmmf. Just be sure you don’t eat the fruit, my darling,” Demeter warned. “Food from the underworld is even more detrimental to your health than food from the mortal realm.”

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[badjokesbyjeff]

Man wakes up in a slum with no memory of how he got there.

He wanders around aimlessly before he finds even one person who will talk to him. Some ratty beggar on the street turns out to be nice enough to explain where he is.

"You're in the afterlife!" he tells the man, "But you must have been a real shithead when you were alive, because this is the fourth ring, and only the worst people come here."

All of a sudden, a siren goes off, one of those air-raid things. The man is terrified but the beggar gets up calmly and leads him to a big, dilapidated warehouse where thousands of other similarly unkempt souls are gathering. When the man asks why they're all here, the beggar points to a line of folding tables against the wall. Each table has some moldy bread, cups of dingy water, and some bowls of broth so thin they could have just run out of cups. Only then does the man realize how hungry he is. A guard in heavy body armor blows a whistle and all the people arrange themselves into three lines.

The beggar is helpful enough to explain them for the man. "That one's the bread line, that's the broth line, and that's the water line. All the food here is free, but if you want to get out of this maggot hole, you've got to work, because the gate guards into the third ring ask five hundred dollars to get through. I've heard the food is better there."

So the man gets his food. It's abominable, and right then and there, he vows to make five hundred dollars and get into the third ring. Unfortunately for him, very few people need work in the afterlife, especially when all of them are saving up to emigrate. Even still, after ten years of hard work, eating the moldy bread and indistinguishable soup and water, he finally saves up enough money. The guards let him through and he finds himself in the third ring. It's nothing too fancy, if anything, it's a bit below average for a real city, but to his eyes it is paradise. All the guards look much friendlier, and the houses and buildings, while not spacious or lavish, are at least up to code. And to his surprise, he runs right into a familiar former beggar as he crosses the street.

"What are the odds?" they both ask and they get to conversing. The beggar, it turns out, only managed to make it in himself a few months back. Their conversation is interrupted, however, by what sounds like a school bell. When the man seems confused, the beggar leads him to what looks like a giant gymnasium. Here, people are gathering once again, and the man begins to understand. On a line of folding tables against one wall are stacks of hot dogs, big bowls of salad, and solo cups full of fresh lemonade. A cop shouts for everyone's attention and directs them all to stand in three lines. The beggar smiles at the man's wonder and points to each line in turn. "That's the hot dog line, that's the salad line, and that's the lemonade line." The man gets in each line in turn and gets himself his lunch.

While he's eating, basking in joy at not being stuck with old bread and water, the beggar encourages him, "The best part is, halfway through the year, they switch from hot dogs, salad, and lemonade to chicken, chili, and hot chocolate. You can never get tired of it!"

Sadly, this proved not to be true. After only a few days, the man did again get tired of the same meal every day. But he knew firsthand that he could change his lot, so one day he went up to the wall of the second circle. This time the guards were asking for ten thousand dollars. Well, the man didn't like it, but he figured he had his whole afterlife ahead of him now that he was out of the fourth circle, and he could certainly take some time to save up. After ten years of hard work, it wasn't too difficult for him to keep up the work ethic, and only twenty years later, he went back to the guards of the second ring with the money in hand. He went through the gate and found himself in a glittering, clean city full of glass and steel.

And wouldn't you know it, but there, standing across the street was the same beggar, only now he was wearing a well-fitted suit. The man greeted the beggar as an old friend and they started talking again. Once again, their conversation was interrupted, only this time it was by beautiful church bells. "Come," the beggar told him, "I'll take you to the evening meal." So the man followed and they entered a glamorous ballroom filled with beautiful attendees. Even the cops here looked good, dressed in suits and sunglasses like bodyguards. And sure enough, piled onto platters on huge mahogany tables against the far wall were plates of steak, bowls of the most delicious seafood soups, and glasses of champagne. One of the bodyguards cleared his throat loudly and politely requested that the attendees line up. Three lines were formed and the beggar pointed each line out in turn. "That's the steak line, that's the soup line, and that's the champagne line," and then he added, "and apparently here, they change the meals FOUR times a year!"

The man rejoiced, ate, and was happy, and for once felt that nothing was lacking. Four changes a year was enough for him. But one day, out of curiosity, he went up to the bodyguards that guarded the gate into the first and final ring of the afterlife and found they were asking for a million dollars to pass. Well the man was a bit disturbed by this, after all, the second ring seemed perfect to him. "What is it," he thought, "that could possibly be more wonderful than what I have here?" That question haunted him for weeks until he came to a conclusion. He was used to working hard and he had all of eternity to save up, so he wanted, just once to see what he could possibly be missing in the first ring.

Fifty years later, he returned to the guards with a million dollars. When he stepped into the first ring he fell to his knees. The architecture was glorious and inhuman, and the bodyguard had turned into shining angels. To his surprise, someone helped him up off the street and when he looked, he realized he recognized who it was--it was the beggar he met in the fourth ring, adorned in a golden robe and glowing, and when he looked down at himself he realized he looked much the same.

The beggar laughed jovially. "I got here only three years ago myself, but somehow I knew you would be right here behind me. I've come back to this gate every day waiting for you to make it in!" Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of angelic choirs and the beggar led the man off to a gigantic palace made of crystal and cloud. The room was filled with radiant citizens of the first circle and angels prepared everything. Sure enough, there was a line of massive altars against one wall, spilling over with glistening golden dragon meat, a pudding refined from clouds and dew and silk, and an ice cold tub of ambrosia and nectar ladled out individually into blindingly beautiful crystalline chalices. An angel fluttered from the ceiling and bowed silently to the assembled mass, who bowed respectfully back and then broke themselves into their lines on their own.

Smiling at the tradition, the beggar pointed to the first line. "That's the line for the dragon meat," he said before turning to the next line, "and that's the line for angeldust stew," then he paused, confused.

"What is it?" the man asked his old friend.

The beggar replied, "There appears to be no punchline."

#Hi I am Jeff and I tell bad jokes. Follow me for more jokes. I want to make you laugh!

[choupetit]

GOT Recap: Iron Throne

Airdate:  5/19/19  Season 8, Episode 6 (Finale)

Well, here we are, everybody!  The Game of Thrones Finale has dropped and I for one was completely loving it.  It was so riveting and they were totally able to justify Dany’s mad queen arc,  plus, the way they tied up all the loose ends was truly spectacu ---oh for the love of god, I can’t do this anymore!  Here’s the truth:  The finale was GARBAGE!  It was disappointing and boring and, honestly, we all deserved better.  I know people say “You can’t please everybody.”  I get that.  But, dude, when the majority of people ain’t happy, you’ve done messed up.

That said, it’s dunzo and now we all can walk around dazed, like the survivors of King’s Landing, trying to make sense out of the madness.  I suppose, in a way, I’m grateful that the previous episode was so god awful, because it really helped me prepare for a let down.  So in that sense, expecations were met.  Let’s remind ourselves how this series, as a whole, was truly a special thing…most of the time.  It’s just too bad it had to end this way.   This is by far my least fave episode to recap, but I can’t just let the final notes of the Song of Ice and Fire go unplayed, so here ya have it:  My final GOT recap of “Iron Throne”:

Yo.  The massacre of King’s Landing is over – or is it? Tyrion Lannister -clearly not considering his own life or survival- has decided to stick around and take a long walk through the charred human remains and toppled buildings.  Jon Snow and Ser Davos follow him, equally stunned by the devastation.  White ash covers everything. We see a handful of shell shocked survivors as Tyrion passes through the streets to make his way to the Red Keep.  Jon tells him not to go in without backup, but Tyrion insits on going it alone. He gets into the castle and makes his way through the ruined map room and down the stairs to check on the secret passageway that he told his bro about.  It’s all moody and sad…but also confusing, because we saw the ceiling collapse last episode and it didn’t seem like there would even be a basement left to go to.  But maybe I’m just being a stickler for things that make actual sense.  Tyrion finds a giant pile of rubble blocking a passageway. A hint of light peeks from the top and he manages to climb and pick his way past the blockage.  Seems totally safe to me to disturb the unstable structure and debris.  

On the other side, there is another huge pile of rubble and Tyrion spies Jaime Lannister’s golden hand peeking out of the rocks.  Yeah, that’s right, the ceiling - and presumably entire structure - came crashing down on Jaime and Cersei Lannister last episode and yet here we are with body pieces barely covered.  Tyrion clears away a few bricks and voila! He has excavated Jaime and Cersei – nestled close together.  That whole thing is so…whatever.  I mean, Tyrion seems pretty upset, but when you look at the surrounding scene you’re just like “So…if Jaime and Cersei had simply stepped a few feet to the right, they would’ve been fine?”  It’s all kinda dumb, if I’m being honest.  But Tyrion’s feelings are real, and he’s devastated to see his siblings dead in each other’s arms.

As Jon and Davos make their way through the city to the Red Keep, they come across Grey Worm with a handful of Lannister soldiers on their knees, about to be executed.  Jon’s all “Whoa, man.  The fight’s over, these dudes should be prisoners!”  And Grey Worm is all “I’m following my queen’s orders to kill her enemies.” Jon wants to talk to his superior – aka Daenerys – and Grey Worm’s all “Cool, let me know how that works out.” He proceeds to cut the throats of each of the kneeling men.  Yowzers, that is cold!  

Meanwhile, Arya Stark walks up to the crowd of Dothraki who are hooting and celebrating outside the Red Keep.  It’s nice to know that the symbolic white horse at the end of last episode was able to carry her a full two blocks and then disappear for his next Lyft fare in King’s Landing – it’s surge pricing right now, people.

The Unsullied stand at attention, lining the long stairway up to the Red Keep and Jon slowly walks up. Grey Worm is already there – dude, the Unsullied are FAST! Tyrion stands to the side.   Drogon swoops overhead and lands in the courtyard and a few seconds later, Queen Daenerys Targaryen walks out to the top of the stairs to address her loyal Dothraki and Unsullied troops.  

She speaks to the crowd in Dothraki and then High Valyrian and gives a super creepy Hitler-esque speech “Thanks for helping me liberate the city, y’all!  You guys have been so supportive and we are not going to rest until we have liberated the entire WORLD from the shackles of life!!!”  All of Dany’s supporters cheer. “Also, we are going to have a big potluck tomorrow to get to know our 27 surviving King’s Landing citizens! This is a reminder that I’m making my famous ambrosia salad flambée  and I really don’t want anybody one-upping me, so please steer clear from any and all other pineapple dishes with cool whip, m’kay?  It might just push me over the edge.  You guys are the best! See you tomorrow at 3pm near the charred moms and toddlers where the garden used to be!” Jon and Tyrion don’t understand a word she said, but they’re pretty sure it ain’t good.  Of course it’s not – ambrosia salad is not meant to be flambéed, it’s gonna be a disaster. But at this point, nothing Dany does would surprise me anymore.

Tyrion steps forward and stands next to Dany, who goes “You freed your brother, traitor.” And Tyrion goes “Yeah, but you just massacred a city, psycho, so there! Oh and btw, I don’t want to be your hand anymore.”  He removes his pin and tosses it down the stairs – y’all that is a bigger burn than what Dany just did to all of King’s Landing!    Daenerys’s guards escort him away.  Frankly, I thought she would just barbecue him right then and there, so things are going better than expected.

Jon stares warily at Dany who coolly gazes back at him and marches into the interior of the Red Keep. I don’t get how anybody can believe this is a sound structure, but then again all the building code enforcers are likely buried under a pile of rubble.  

Suddenly, Arya pops up next to Jon who is surprised to see her in King’s Landing.  She tells him of her plan to kill Cersei, “but your queen got there first.”  Jon is quick to remind her that Daenerys is everybody’s queen.  Arya retorts “Tell that to Sansa.” She also warns Jon that now that Daenerys knows his secret lineage, she’ll probably kill him one of these days.

Shortly after, Jon pays a visit to Tyrion, whose makeshift prison cell is a room filled with off-season Pier 1 decorative vases.  Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.  Tyrion attempts to turn Jon against Dany and gives him a whole spiel about how people with access to weapons of mass destruction and a penchant for mental instability somehow shouldn’t be allowed to be in power.  Jon’s all “Meh, it’s not really my decision to make. I’m gonna focus on the things I can control – like the tightness of my man bun and the number of steps I’m clocking on my fitbit.  Dude, this whole King’s Landing trip has got me up to 50K steps and it’s not even lunchtime!” “O-kay…but Dany really needs to be stopped.”  There’s a bunch of bumbling convo about how Tyrion really did love and believe in Dany and how love clouds reason. Jon tells Tyrion “Love is the Death of Duty” and Tyrion is blown away by the poetic insight, then realizes it’s Jon saying it and goes “Did you just come up with that on your own?” “Nah, man.  Maester Aemon said it to me once.”  “Yeah, that makes more sense.  Well, let me just take that gem, flip it and reverse it:  Maybe sometimes Duty can be the Death of Love…just sayin’.”  This wordplay is way too much for Jon to handle and he has to take a seat.  Probably as a defense for the writers to take Dany down the path of crazyville, Tyrion points out all the cruel things Daenerys has done in her pursuit of the crown and he says she was cheered on and thus validated in feeling that she is right and good.  When Jon tells him none of it matters now that the war is over, Tyrion goes “Is it though? She won’t stop till she’s the queen to everybody in this world – how is your family going to react to that?  And do you really think that she won’t kill you, too, one day – the person with a better claim to the throne?” Finally, Tyrion tells Jon that he has to make a choice – and has to make it now. Visiting hours are over and Jon leaves, making no commitments either way. Just Jon being Jon, folks.

Jon approaches the entrance to the throne room – Drogon is guarding it.  The dragon stirs from a pile of ashes, gives Jon a once-over and deems him worthy to pass.  Damn straight, ‘cause he’s a true Targaryen!

Meanwhile, Daenerys enters the throne room – or rather, what’s left of it.  The roof has been blown off with several of the exterior walls missing and the floor is covered with so much ash, it looks like a blanket of snow.  She stares at the Iron Throne - solitary in the open space -and walks toward it.  At last, she reaches it and touches one of the swords. This throne has always been so far from her grasp – even in her vision from the House of the Undying she never did manage to touch it - this moment has been a long time coming.

She turns to see Jon Snow at the doorway and she tells him a boring story about her childhood and how she assumed the Iron Throne was this gigantic behemoth of a throne.  Jon is just all “Hey, gurl…so…your soldiers are still slaughtering peeps in the street.  That’s pretty effed.”  Dany is all calm with crazy eyes saying things like “We can’t hide behind small mercies – sometimes you have to kill a whole bunch of innocent people to save an even bigger bunch of innocent people.” When Jon asks her if she’s actually seen all the children that she’s killed in the streets – children, women, men who had nothing to do with any of this, he insists that mercy has to be a part of the vision for a better world.  

Dany’s just all “I’m a visionary – I get that it’s really hard for you to see the grand scheme here, since you know nothing, but just trust that I know what is good and right.” It’s a callback to the convo Jon had with Tyrion just five minutes ago. Jon asks “Well, what about everybody else who thinks they know what’s good and right?” Dany replies, slightly flippantly “They don’t get to choose.”  She asks Jon to be a part of her awesome dream and of course he tells her “You’re my queen.  You always will be.”  They kiss and embrace.  

 Then, mid-hug, THWUMP! Jon plants a dagger into Daenerys’ chest. Dany didn’t see this coming and is flummoxed.  She collapses and dies in Jon’s arms, a trickle of blood spills from her mouth as he lays her on the ground.

Sensing a disturbance in the Force of the Mother of Dragons, Drogon flies up to investigate.  He sees him momma lifeless on the ground and gives her a few nudges with his nose “Wake up, mama!!!” It’s all kinda heartbreaking if you can forget the entire last half of the previous episode where Drogon and his mommy were burning up all of King’s Landing.

Drogon looks at the dagger in Dany’s chest and then at the Iron Throne and Jon.  He breathes in deeply and you can see the fire near the back of his throat.  Holy Moles, is he going to toast Jon and then we see Jon arise from the flames? Nope. He lets out a huge stream of fire…not on Jon, but on the throne.  What?!  Is Drogon a big dumdum for thinking the pointy throne killed his mom or is he such a genius that he understands the Iron Throne is a symbolism for power, the pursuit of which ultimately led to his mother’s demise?  We’ll never know, but either way, I think we can all agree it’s a weird reaction coming from the dragon.  But it looks cool, so I guess there’s that. Drogon melts the entire throne to the ground.  Then he picks Daenerys up gently in his talon and takes off.  Jon is completely unharmed and would ya look at that – no dead body!  Thanks Drogon!  Now Jon can be all “I dunno where Daenerys went…she said she was going out for some milk”, and nobody will be the wiser.  #PerfectCrime

We get a close up of Tyrion’s face – he wakes up from his prison cell floor and guards take him to the old dragon arena.  Judging by the length of his beard, several weeks have gone by.  Grey Worm leads him to a semi-circle of seated noblemen and women. It’s pretty much all the noble families left in Westeros - about a dozen or so peeps:  Yara Greyjoy, the new Dornish prince, Robin Arryn and his adviser, Ser Davos Seaworth, Ser Brienne of Tarth, Lord Gendry, Samwell Tarly, Edmure Tulley and a few faces we don’t recognize, plus the three Stark siblings: Bran, Arya and Sansa.

When Sansa asks where Jon is – he was supposed to be at this meeting - Grey Worm replies that he’s their prisoner and the Unsullied get to decide who earns a get out of jail pass to attend the Westerosi Nobles Summit.  Hold the door, people!! Wait a second.  First of all:  Jon’s milk cover story didn’t work???  Also, are we supposed to assume that Grey Worm has just been hanging out twiddling his thumbs waiting for somebody to tell him what to do?  Isn’t he second in command to Daenerys and thus the new person in charge?  Wouldn’t Tyrion and Jon be dead already for their crimes?  And who called everybody for this summit anyway?  Ok, none of these questions will be answered, so let’s get back to the action:

The gist of the gathering is that all the nobles have to decide what to do next, since there isn’t a monarch to make any decisions for the realm.  Tyrion, the prisoner, is the dude who gets to do all the talking and comes up with a plan where all the nobles should just get to vote on who should be king.  Sam suggests they try a democracy and everybody yucks it up. Lame.  Edmure Tulley tries to nominate himself and Sansa tells him to sit the eff down.  

Then Tyrion goes on to suggest that the person with the best stories should get to be the ruler – because, ya know, it’s stories that unite people.  And who has a better story than Bran Stark? Um…pretty much all the other perfectly qualified women in the half-circle.  Sansa objects that Bran doesn’t want to be king and besides, he can’t have kids.  But for Tyrion, this is a minor detail:  Who better to rule than somebody who doesn’t want the power?  And let’s just elect rulers rather than passing down the throne via birthright!  From now on, all the nobles will get to vote for their next king or queen.  When Tyrion asks Bran if he’s ok being the Big Kahuna, Bran with his super dead-in-the-eyes mug goes “Why do you think I came all this way.”  HOLD THE DOOOOOOOR, people!!!! Are you saying Bran knew this WHOLE time that he was going to be king?  Are you kidding me?  Is this the dumbest thing ever?  Do I now have to pick apart a gazillion instances that make this so messed up if Bran always knew where things were going?  No.  We’ll stop here.  

Everybody votes for Bran except for Sansa who goes “I love you little bro, you’re gonna be awesome as king but I can’t support you because the North is going independent baby. We’re ruling ourselves!!!” And Bran just nods.  Now everybody else feels like a total moron for not putting in any special requests for their regions when they voted “Aye” for Bran. Ha, suckers!

Finally, to conlude this extremely boring scene, Tyrion names Bran king and puts in a super offensive name in his official title:  Bran the Broken, first of his name…yadda, yadda.  Bran looks around at everybody super hurt and goes “You guys have been calling me that behind my back this whole time?!”  To get back at him, Bran tells Tyrion he has to be hand of the king. Grey Worm is all “You can’t do that! He’s our prisoner!”  And Bran’s all “I can do what I want cause I’m king! Nanny, nanny, boo, boo!  Also, Tyrion messed up big time and now he has to dedicate the rest of his existence to fixing his mistakes.”  Um, seems like a pretty cush job to me, frankly.  

They also throw in that the Unsullied can take The Reach as their own land, since pretty much nobody in Westeros lives there anymore.  It’s the equivalent of telling them they can have Nebraska, and guess what?  Nobody wants it.

Next, Tyrion visits Jon, whose beard is also looking cray from all the weeks of growing it out.  He gives him the news:  The Unsullied wanted Jon dead and the Stark sisters wanted him released, so Bran hit a compromise wherein Jon has to go back to the Wall and live out the rest of his days there, just like a regular Night’s Watchman:  No wifey, no kids, no lands.  Jon’s all “Why the hell is there even still a wall?” –“Duh, because.”

We see a freshly groomed Jon walk through the docks of King’s Landing, accompanied by two dudes from the Night’s Watch.  Grey Worm gives him the stinkeye from his ship – the Unsullied are heading to Naath. Hey, maybe Grey Worm can find himself another nice girl from there!  

Jon says goodbye to his siblings/cousins.  Sansa is now queen of the North, which is pretty much what she always wanted.  She laments that they lost their king, though.  When Jon tells Arya she can still visit him she’s all, “Nah.” She wants to explore the seas west of Westeros where the maps end – so basically, our girl is gonna hang out in Hawaii for the rest of her life, hopefully doing more Eat Pray Loving than colonizing.

Brienne of Tarth is seated with the big Knight-o-pedia book in front of her.  She finds the entry for Jaime Lannister and adds on to it.  She is sure to mention that he had the best sex of his life with her, in spite of his tiny cock.  Or, ya know, she takes the high road and puts in something really nice about him dying while protecting his queen.  Ugh, Brienne, why you always gotta be so good?

In the Red Keep, it’s time for the very first small council to convene.  Tryion gets all the chairs ready just so, and then in walk Ser Davos, Samwell Tarly, and Lord Bronn of the Blackwater – he finally got Highgarden, btw. They exchange some banter which falls short.

Soon thereafter Ser Brienne of Tarth and Ser Podrick Payne (awww he got knighted, too) enter with King Bran.  Bran notes they are still missing a few positions: boring, boring, and dullsville. Then he goes “Does anybody know what Drogon is up to?” He was last seen flying east and Bran excuses himself to do some Professor X-ing to see if he can find him.  But of course, we don’t actually get to see Bran warg.  The small council continues with the boring business of figuring out how to spend money on rebuilding King’s Landing and it all ends with Bronn gunning hard for new brothels.  Ugh.  Seriously.

At the Wall, Jon arrives to be reuinited with his good pal Tormund Giantsbane and also:  the bestest direwolf of them all, Ghost!  This time, Jon gives Ghost an affectionate cuddle.

We get a cross-cut of a bunch of dull scenes of Jon, Arya, and Sansa getting dressed and walking. Sansa is crowned Queen in the North, Arya sets sail on a ship with the Stark sigil and Jon walks out to the Castle Black courtyard.  

In the final scene, Jon heads out on horseback with Ghost and Tormund and a slew of Wildlings returning to their home. Has he abandoned the Night’s Watch? Is he Lord Commander again and can do whatever the heck he wants?  Is he finally a ranger and is just going out on a temporary jaunt with his pal Tormund? Who knows.  But it’s worth noting that the series finishes in the exact same way as it started:  Men leaving the wall to head North into Wildling territory. The end.

And there we have it: 8 years of Game of Thrones came to a lackluster end with the Starks all on top.  I’m still processing the weirdness I feel about the show ending this way.  Truly, watching the episode was so dull at times that I just wanted it to be over already. While this could have been a much worse end to the series, it certainly wasn’t satisfying.  But after the bombshell they dropped in the penultimate episode with Daenerys going nuts, I guess this final episode of the series didn’t have anywhere else to go that would have made it much better.

There are gazillions of cool things that were introduced throughout the previous seasons which were rendered somewhat pointless in the end.  I would have loved more exploration and explanation of the mythology and its origins:  The Children of the Forest, the Three Eyed Raven, the Night King, the previous defeat of white walkers and how they came back, the Lord of Light, all the fire priestesses in Essos, where the dragon eggs came from, the faceless men, etc.  Also, I guess Varys’ letters about Jon being Aegon Targaryen were never delivered – or peeps just didn’t care?  [shrugs] Oh well?

I thought this past season would be bittersweet to watch, but it took such an unfortunate turn in storytelling that I just wanted the bad plotlines to end.  Season 8 never did live up to the hype of fan theories that were swirling about for two years.  Can we blame it for coming up short?  Kinda and kinda not.    All I know is that I feel oddly cheated by the final season.  Taken as a whole, though, I still love the show.  I was always blown away by the sweeping visuals, the epic battle scenes, the engaging complexity of the characters.  The acting, sets, costumes and music were all amazing.  And of course, there was the joy of ruminating over all the possibilities of what might come in the next episode, and discussing the show with my fellow fans. Very few series are as special and engaging as Game of Thrones and I’ll miss it for sure.  It’s nice to know there may be some amount of redemption for the story, when George R. R. Martin finally releases the last two books. So I’m holding onto hope for a slightly more satisfying end to this saga.  Thanks for joining me on my recap adventures each week!  It’s been a fun ride.  And now my ‘caps have ended.  Sorry, but I had to.

#GOTrecaps #gameofthrones #GOT #Game of Thrones #GOTS8e6 #GOTFinale

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[starry-kfics]

incantation [poly!myungjin]

word count: 2948

warnings: magic is involved through this justa saying other than that you’re good

author: krys

extra info: admin krys’s own MYST au!!! it’s my take on the magical universe :D you might see me mention this in future fics, and if you have questions then i’m willing to answer!! also, Magistri is a shortened version of Magicis pistrinum, which means ‘magical bakery’ in latin. Cor meum is ‘my heart’ in latin as well!!!

♡

The cafe had a few customers lounging around when Jinwoo stepped in. He noted the usual scent of coffee was drafting through the air, and the familiar pockets of Ambrosia Dust floating around showed where groups of fairies came and mingled. Despite the front of the establishment looking small and unnoticeable to a non-local, the inside was comfortably spacious for a good amount of inhabitants.

"Welcome to The Magistri!" a voice moderately beamed above the hum of commotion. Jinwoo wiped his soot-covered hands on his sides- which were both scarred with ash from the previous times he had repeated this action- when a familiar Enchanti walked out of the back kitchen. Jinwoo let a kind smile grace his lips when he came up to the cashier.

"What would it be this time, Jinjin?" (Name) asked with a whimsical drawl, wand already in hand. Jinwoo's eyes curved as a subconscious smile formed from the nickname, and he looked to the side where the menu was.

"Um, I think I will have the Peppermint Leaf Coffee today." he requested with a lick of his lips. (Name) nodded as they accepted the currency Jinwoo decided to pay with. As they stored the currency, they couldn't help but steal glances at Jinwoo occasionally, which was quickly noticed by the Beastmaster.

(Name) noticed Jinwoo smiling from their own grins and was quick to explain. "You have some dragon scales in your hair again, and it makes it look like you're growing a nest of hatchlings on your head." Jinwoo put a hand to his head and chuckled.

"I was taking care of a dragonet, actually, before I came here. Really feisty, but I have someone watching her right now." You nodded in understanding and motioned for Jinwoo to come closer, in which he complied. You leaned over the counter the best you could as your began to comb some of the pebble-sized fuchsia scales out of Jinwoo's hair.

"I can tell, because you also have quite a lot of ash and soot on your clothes and face." you brought up with a hint of a grin. After a few heaven-sent heartbeats, you leaned back with a small pile of scales in your palm. Jinwoo almost pouted from being brought out of a daze from your soothing fingers messing around with his hair.

You grabbed a small, glass vial from under your counter and dumped the little scales inside before closing it off with a cork. As you passed the phial to Jinwoo, you grabbed a cloth from under the counter, re-enchanted it with a cleaning spell, and leaned over the counter to clean some ash off of your friend's jawline. Jinwoo scrunched his face slightly as you traced his cheeks with the cloth, but he allowed you to make some progress on his face before you allowed him to the take the cloth himself so you could finish his order.

"I think that you're the only Beastmaster I know of whom I have to always give anti-scorch enchantments to." you quipped up in a playful tone as you mixed the coffee with the magic from your wand. Jinwoo wiped the soot from his clothes, and noticed that the singed edges of his vest and shirt were made-new from the cloth.

Jinwoo scoffed as he placed the cloth back on the counter. "It's not the Familiars that get me all sizzled up, it's my colleague who tries to help me out." You giggled as you pushed Jinwoo's partly-made cup aside.

"Well, ask and you shall receive." The door opened, and Jinwoo can guess from your comment that the newcomer was the familiar Sorcerer.

"Jinwoo, you said that you would take only five minutes! It's been about seven and the dragonets are getting nervous without you there." Myungjun exclaimed, his robes and hair more acquainted with embers than Jinwoo's. More like he was getting nervous without Jinwoo there.

Myungjun noticed your angelic smile and stopped from attacking the Beastmaster to greet you.

"How are you doing today, (Nickname)?"

"Quite delightful, my gratitude for inquiring, MJ." you responded as you started working on another cup. "Persimmon Spice Shake for you?" Myungjun nodded as he took a seat next to Jinwoo.

"Did you leave Sanha to watch the shop while we're on break?" Jinwoo asked in a soft tone to his companion as they sat very close to each other.

"Well, let's say that I did, and let's say that he is currently doing a good job." There was a slight gap of silence, but before Jinwoo could respond, Myungjun put a hand on Jinwoo's thigh to stop him and turned to the barista. "(Name), I love the decorations you put around the cafe! Really puts you into the mood for Cor Meum!"

You turned to Myungjun and leaned in so you could converse with the duo as one hand absitmindedly flicked and twirled, the cups and glass bottles moving to according the patterns your wand made.

"You think so? It means the world that you like them, thank you so much." you quickly glanced over to check your work, missing the small hue of pink on the sorcerer's cheeks. Jinwoo quickly noticed this and shoved the shoulder of his partner in a teasing matter.

"Are you two going to have anything special to do for Cor Meum, like a picnic or a trip to the Firefly Fields?" you asked as you made the finishing touches on each drink manually. You didn't like to incorporate too much magic on your drinks, since that was was saved for the finishing luck incantations tailored specifically for each customer.

Myungjun turned to Jinwoo, expecting him to answer. "We are just going to run the Familiars shop like every year, since around this time a lot of couples like to get one or a pet." Jinwoo responded. You pursed your lips and nodded.

"Well, I'll be sure to give your drinks an even stronger charm so that you guys receive nice business." you stated, rolling your wand between both hands to warm it up.

'And to finally get you two together.' you thought. For months, you've been trying to get your two friends, Jinwoo and Myungjun, to confess their love to each other. The romantic tension between the both of them was evident when Jinwoo, your business neighbor, started bringing Myungjun more frequently. You also had some conflict within yourself as well, since you have taken a liking upon both the Beastmaster and Sorcerer after you met them individually. However, you were willing to give up your own love for the two of them to be together, since you respected their privacy with each other. It wasn't a case where you couldn't pick one, but that you loved both equally and that you wanted to be with both forever.

"Can you put a luck charm so that one day I will finally master those Fire Tomes?" Myungjun asked earnestly with hopeful, glowing eyes, his hand still on the other's leg, but you did not notice. Jinwoo smiled and turned his head towards Myungjun and you.

"Please, could you? I nearly got burned to a pile of ash from this idiot practicing in the middle of the shop. We were lucky that there weren't any customers walking in, or else it would look like a pack of the dragonets got through them." You winked at the duo as Myungjun made noises of protest.

"You can count on me for that." you assured as you whispered a series of incantations and glided your wand above the two cups. The magical properties from the charms caused the drinks to briefly change color, both from a deep red, soft pink, mellow gold, and then to the respective drink pigments. You placed the drinks in front of the duo and grinned as you pulled up a chair across the two. The two said their thanks before taking a swig.

"I have never seen my drink turn those colors before, even though I get the same enchantments each time. What did you do this time?" Jinwoo asked as he used a spoon to mix in the whipped cream with the rest of the drink. You swung around in your swivel chair and shrugged.

"Might be the change in weather, who knows?" you said in a questioning tone. Myungjun made gestures towards you with the hand that held his drink.

"Yah, if you made us guinea pigs for some experiment enchantment, then I'll be sure to practice my Fire Tomes in here. I thought that we agreed that you would only do that to Sanha." You smiled innocently and tilted your head with a smile.

"I promise that I didn't do anything too funky to your drinks. It's just a Cor Meum special that I'm doing for everyone." That was a whole lie. You spiked your friend's drinks with a Confessing Spell that would charm them to confess to their current crush, and you knew for a 100% fact that they both had crushes on each other. You were finally taking matters in your own hands.

"(Nickname), let's go sit over by the window so I can watch my shop. I don't trust Sanha in there alone." Jinwoo brought up, already moving to the open seat. You looked around and noticed that a great majority of the customers in your shop had left by now, since the lunch rush was near the end. You nodded and leaned into the kitchen for your assistant, Dongmin, to take over the front if another customer comes.

Following the Beastmaster and Sorcerer from a ways behind, you noticed that the two were walking in each other's personal-space bubbles. They weren't that touchy with each other, but their close proxemics as they walked was notable. Did you make the spell that strong for it to already be in work? You were stronger than you thought.

Myungjun had whispered something into Jinwoo's ear with cupped hands, who took a moment to look into the other's eyes before nodding. You didn't ask about this and almost ignored it, since you wanted the two of them to have their moment. You sat down first at the bar looking out the window. To your surprise, Jinwoo and Myungjun had decided to sit on either side of you, with Myungjun on your left and Jinwoo on your right.

"The street looks more lively this afternoon." Jinwoo pointed out as he nursed his coffee. You and Myungjun nodded. As you traced designs on the tabletop with your wand, you felt Myungjun lift his arm to rest his head in his hand, which was now very close to pet. You suppressed the urge.

"We should go out and walk around, right (Nickname)?" Myungjun asked, his head brushing the side of your arm. You nodded abistmindly, placing your wand aside and finally giving in to play with the Sorcerer's hair. Myungjun instantly calmed down, and gave a very tranquil, but shining smile into his hand as you styled his locks with feather-like touches. You turned towards Jinwoo and kicked your legs from under you.

"I think that you two would find a lot of fun walking through the second floor of the outdoor shopping district. I heard that the local Elven tribe opened a floating botanical garden that is nearly in bloom. That sounds like a great way to spend Cor Meum." Jinwoo nodded in response, observing what was beyond the window before tilting his head in your direction with a pleased smile.

"But you should come with us! Myungjun and I don't mind a third person, and we were meaning to ask you for a while."

"Mmhmm." Myungjun hummed, and he allowed his eyes to be half-lidded. "The three of us should go and we should all be in couple outfits so that we could match with the flowers. That would make the pictures pretty and we could ask you to join us for more dates in the future." Both you and Jinwoo turned your heads towards Myungjun, who took a sharp inhale in breath and lifted his head, your hand out of his hair.

"Did... I just say that outloud?" Jinwoo nodded with an unbelievable smile, and your wide eyes emitted your emotions perfectly.

"Okay, I think I should tell the both of you now, but I enchanted you two with a Confessing Spell so that you would confess your crushes to each other. I didn't mean for me to be in the middle of it, and I hope that this doesn't cause conflict. I'm sorry for doing this to you two and for making this an awkward confession for the both of you." you confessed, quickly glancing at your two friends. Your response was a gasp from Myungjun and a giggle from Jinwoo.

"What, w-was it something I said? I'm sorry..." you said in a confused tone, feeling very self-conscious about your poor choices. To save yourself from self-deprecation, Jinwoo shook his head with a wide smile.

"(Nickname), I don't think the incantation worked." You tilted your head in confusion as Jinwoo continued. "Myungjun and I have been dating for the past three months."

"I can't believe you didn't notice. I would think that Dongmin would have told you or something." Myungjun spoke up. You opened your mouth in surprise and quickly glanced back and forth between the Beastmaster and Sorcerer.

"Wait, so you two are telling me that you were in a relationship together, while I was here thinking that it was romantic tension the whole time? For the past- I don't know- five months or so?" Two heads nodded at their own beat.

You sighed with an open mouth and reached for your wand to give your hands something to play with. "Man, I need to be more attentive." Both Jinwoo and Myungjun shared a laugh, Myungjun's cackles being louder than the other's. Jinwoo smiled wide and shifted in his chair so that his frame was angled closer to you.

"Actually, I'll take that back, I think the incantation worked 100%." You tilted your head in confusion for a second time. Jinwoo glanced behind you to make eye contact with Myungjun, whose expression was encouraging.

"(Name), me and Myungjun have talked it over, and we both think that our relationship could have one more person. We have each other, but we both have had mutual feelings about, well, you, and we are both consenting of having you romantically join us in a polyamorous relationship. We were both scared to confess to you, since we weren't sure if you were open to the idea of polyanmory, but we would like to ask you if you could take the time to think about it." Jinwoo explained in a tumbling manner. Myungjun hummed in agreement from time to time to show his support for his boyfriend.

You caught the side of your tongue with your teeth, mainly to prevent yourself from spilling out all of your emotions from the past year. As you placed your wand back on the table, both the Beastmaster and Sorcerer were anxious about your response.

"We're sorry if this is a lot to take in at the moment, and if you are uncomfortable." Myungjun said in a small voice to fill up the silence. Though, both of their worries were put out by your growing smile you attempted to cover by rubbing your lips together.

"I-I-" you cut yourself off with a bashful chuckle, "I..." You didn't know how to respond, so you nodded your head with a giant smile.

Jinwoo lifted his posture up in his seat out of excitement. "Is that a yes? Do you accept?" You nodded vigorously again, finding the courage to state your choice. "Yes! I accept!" With that, Jinwoo clasped your hands into his own and waved them individually in an act of celebration. Myungjun put his hands on your shoulders and shook you around as well.

"To be honest, I have been feeling the same about you two, but I thought that you guys would never..." you trailed off once more, not being able the right words to explain your emotions, especially with an ecstatic Jinwoo still controlling your arm movement and a cheerful Myungjun rubbing the sides of your arms.

"Same here! I can't believe we were in the same situation. Who would have known?" Myungjun exclaimed happily as he slid off his seat so he could envelope you into a side-hug, his arms making a comforting ring around your body. This caused you to lean a ways downward so your head rested partially on top of the Sorcerer's.

Jinwoo pulled you so you could sit partially up, Myungjun's head still cuddling into your shoulder and neck. "(Name), this means the world to us, and I just want to say I'm so happy that you reciprocate these feelings and that we could be together now... I'm sorry, I just can't find all of the words to explain how happy I am." His eyes and mouth were in full crescent mode.

"Jinwoo, you look like an adorable puppy right now." Myungjun giggled into your neck. You nodded your head in agreement and laughed as well when said adorable puppy covered his face with your clasped hands. In response, Jinwoo pulled your hands close to his lips and kissed where your fingers were intertwined. Myungjun also turned his head so he could nuzzle a gentle peck on your shoulder, and you could feel his lips curve into a smile when he kept them there. You felt a pink warmness seep into your cheeks, and you thanked your original, mischievous intentions for getting the true confession out that day.

#happy valentine's day!! #imagines: jinjin #imagines: mj #astro #mj #jinjin #myungjin #poly myungjin #astro imagine #astro imagines #jinjin imagine #jinjin imagines #park jinwoo #park jinwoo imagines #park jinwoo imagine #mj imagine #mj imagines #kim myungjun #kim myungjun imagine #kim myungjun imagines #author: krys #posted by mel bc krys isnt home rn #also this is real cute pls give it lots of love n pls give krys lots of love #*mel

[theroseandthebeast]

Reylo fic recs

going though the piles of Star Wars fics so you don’t have to!

TFA + TLJ fics

The Road of Excess, by thefudge

They thread up the stairs, her hand in the crook of his arm, two indistinguishable figures, two halves of the same perfect, rotten whole. 

(Rey says yes)

i saw you in the wild (you were nervous, you were furious, you were very sure-footed), by diasterisms

This isn't fighting anymore; it's muscle memory.

smut hut, by DarthCaelus

Rey wasn't sure what she expected to feel when their fingers touched, but it wasn't this.

aka what would've happened if Luke hadn't interrupted.

Peace is a Lie, by BebeUnit

It took all of her control not to react, not to let him sense her complete and immediate rejection.

He loved her.

It wasn’t the bizarre obsession he’d had when she arrived, or the dark possessiveness that developed afterwards. This was pure, earnest, warm and yearning. And, of course, utterly terrifying.

Awakening, by SouthSideStory

Red, Kylo thinks. She’d been missing red, before this moment.

It fills him with more pride than it should, because red is the color of passion, provocation, and fury. He’s always heard that the red-blind are a cold sort. Pragmatic and patient above all else, until they meet the one who will drive them to take risks, to indulge their impulses, to choose selfishly instead of wisely. This is what he’s meant to bring her: the kind of love that burns.

Resistance, by shortcircuitify

"Please?"

"On one condition."

and find your way back home, by second_chances

To end the war, Ben Solo kills Snoke. To save Ben Solo, Rey kills Kylo Ren.

follow me (and I will bring you home), by BadWolfGirl01

“Please,” Kylo breathes.

(You’re not alone, he says, and he pulls off his black leather glove and reaches out.)

(Luke’s face, old and weary. No more Jedi, no more Sith.)

She takes his hand.

All the Stars, They Must Burn, by Ambrosia

“Go,” Rey tells him. “Go, go away.”

Kylo’s expression doesn’t change but Rey can feel his will in her own heart. He doesn’t want to leave. “Rey.”

“I can’t have you,” Rey tells him. “You won’t turn from your path and I won’t turn from mine, and that future we saw, it died. I can’t have you, but I don’t have to see you, either.”

World In My Eyes, by sasstasticmad

"The bond should be dead," Rey says through gritted teeth. "Just like you.”

"The bond is only this strong because of you," Kylo Ren tells her. "You're the one who touched me. You took my hand and let me hold yours. This is your fault, not mine.

Ashes in My Wake, by diningalone

AU where Rey finds an unconscious Kylo Ren on Jakku instead of BB-8.

Irrevocable, by VeryImpressive

In the light of day, he would walk away from it all, she only need ask.

And he feared the day she discovered that.

Weakness, by hormonal_trashbag

“All I was looking for was a place to belong,” she sniffled, “a family of my own.”

His voice was strangled. “You can’t find that with me?”

“Ben--”

“It’s not too late,” he frantically whispered, taunting, full lips brushing over the shell of her ear. “Please.”

How Long Is Forever?, by SouthSideStory

[Finn/Rey/Ben] - Finn brings out the best in Rey, her kindness and compassion, and he makes her happy. And Rey, she seems to soothe Finn, to make him laugh, where Kylo only ever manages to anger or frighten him. If he was a less selfish creature he could find some solace in the good they bring each other, but Ben has always been too consumed with his own wants to achieve any measure of peace.

AU but still ~Star Wars~ (i.e. Ben Solo, smuggler)

Innocents Lost, by  pontmercy44

“That’ll scar.” Han stood behind him, nervously. He’d always been nervous around him, first, because he was a baby, and Han didn’t understand babies, and then, because he had the Force, and Han didn’t understand the Force. “Girls like scars.”

“It’s not like it matters.” Ben looked out at the thousands of spires. “I’m going to be a Jedi.”

Jedi Mittens, by betts

Rey keeps track of how many days Uncle Luke is absent on a slate rock Ben chiseled for her years ago, just so she would stop crying about his trips. “Here,” Ben had said, shoving the slate and some chalk in her impossibly tiny hands, “mark how many days he’s gone so it doesn’t seem so long.”

He realized if he did that for his own parents, he’d need a much bigger piece of slate.

Sail A Steady Ship Through The Tempest, by banthafodder

“Say it.” Her voice is deep, and brutal. It cracks on the final syllable, and he wants to do everything she ever tells him to do. “The only one who can hurt you is me.” She's come to find balance in the Force, and she'll find it - and drag him with her.

Like Young Gods, by diasterisms

“What do you think?” Luke asks his nephew. “She has potential.”

“She bit me, Master,” is Ben’s stiff response. “Any opinion I give would be biased.”

Or: Everyone is connected, even if, sometimes, it's just by the skin of our teeth. Even in the midst of darkness, still, luminous beings are we.

The Jedi Path, by SouthSideStory

She’s Ben's world: the only thing he cares about, the only thing he needs, the only one who matters. That interest used to be focused on Rey's power, her talent, her fierce, uncompromising will. Platonic, if not innocent, but now—now he still loves her like a protege, but he wants her too. He wants her, and he can’t keep lying to himself about it.

Within Monsters, by AnonymousMInk

When work dries up on Jakku, a desperate Rey enlists with Galactech-- a tech company who will hire anyone with the right skills, and work for anyone for the right price. Now trapped onboard the Finalizer, Rey is both horrified and fascinated by the dark tales she hears about the leader of the Knights of Ren and the mysterious Force he controls.

But, when a chance encounter awakens a power within her she has never known, it may just be Kylo Ren’s fascination with her that becomes her undoing.

is this love?, by callunavulgari

“It’s okay,” her brother tells her on their wedding night, lowering himself to sit on the floor beside her, until his nose is level with her shaking knees. When he smiles, he looks like a monster. “You don’t have to love me.”

Then he goes to sleep on the couch, taking only a threadbare pillow from their marriage bed.

For the Love of a Wild Thing, by SouthSideStory

For a moment—just a moment—Rey allows herself to imagine a world outside of Jakku. A far away place, green and beautiful, where she could be free.

Murderer, Traitor, Thief, by SouthSideStory

Ben Solo is the worst kind of rogue, and he’s earned every name that the galaxy has given him. But when a scavenger girl tries to steal his ship on Jakku, he can’t bring himself to leave her behind. 

AUs outside of Star Wars (i.e. Rey, mechanic and barista)

ghostwalks (gin and fog), by diasterisms

"I don't like your manners," she sniffed.

"And I'm not crazy about yours," he retorted.

(So they were apparently Bogie and Bacall now, and maybe she could blame the alcohol in the morning, like all the good girls did.)

Charcoal, by luvkurai

Rey takes a break from her studies to go to the opening for an art gallery that just so happens to feature Coruscant's up-and-coming Kylo Ren.

Blood and Water, by ReylorTrashCompactor + SouthSideStory

Rey was twelve years old in a grown-up velvet dress when her cousin Ben placed his hand on her waist in the yearly family picture. The gesture was innocent, but she’s been in love with him ever since. Six years later, when the world is suddenly boiled down to only the two of them, not even the vast emptiness of Alderaan House will give them enough places to hide from what they both want.

The Girl In Terminal B, by nightsofreylo

There is no personal tag on the bag. Apparently, like Ben, its owner was foolish enough to travel without one. But the LaGuardia sticker is still wrapped around the handle, and Ben curses himself for his stupidity. He should have checked the name before he left the airport.

Rey Kenobi.

There’s no address and no phone number. Just the very unhelpful barcode slashed across the sticker along with the flight information. Rey was flying from Seattle to New York. The same flight he was on. The same terminal, the same luggage conveyor. The same goddamn suitcase.

Janus, by englishable

She moves into the apartment beside his, with her flowers and her singing and her brisk optimism, and Ben Solo knows himself just well enough to realize that a person like him really shouldn't have anything to do with a person like her. His good friend Snoke, of course, has other plans, because he gets a certain enjoyment from watching Ben - Kylo Ren, rather, as he calls him - screw things up. Which Ben inevitably does: but that's not where he wants them to end, and maybe Rey doesn't either. 

Nine Lives, by on_my_toes

The new barista at Jakku Java is going to give Ben Solo a god damn heart attack.

306.73 or: How to Woo a Librarian, by ReyloTrashCompactor

She was back again. Ben called her The Scavenger in his head because she liked to pick collections dry. (Though he knew from her library card that her name was Rey. Pretty.) There wasn’t a pattern to her hauls, only that she’d take almost an entire shelf with her in that ratty little messenger bag and leave him to pick up her mess. But, Ben didn’t suppose he was fooling anyone but himself: he had it bad for the Scavenger and she was back. He’d talk to her tonight. He would. 

#reylo #the last jedi #star wars #fics recs #tlj spoilers

[ameasureofpower]

The Beginning

@dr-vauclair

Prompt: Canon Drabble. (Walton) Meeting Page for the first time. There was nothing gentle about the hall that was kept secret from the world. Oppressive were its reaching, red pillars, and dark were its polished, marble floors. Reflections went on forever there, though no one stopped and looked down at the ground to see how far. All eyes faced forward. And up.

There, at the end of the long corridor that smelled of static and stone, high above any height of man, stretched a dark hand, the symbol of their ever reaching power. Midas might have been the carving’s mighty inspiration, but gold was not this one’s reward. Under long, squared digits of ashy volcanic stone was the world - rotating in all its azure, pearl and emerald splendors. A hologram, it flickered static as a man shrouded in black and white drew near.

“So good of you to come,” greeted a voice from the right, a low alto with a humored yet serrated edge. “Punctual as always.”

The shadowed visitor’s heavy footsteps halt beneath the turning globe, casting the hall in a silence broken only by the lighter step of a woman’s heels retreating to the distance. The man waits until her sharp clicks subside before his own voice slips through the air like cloth over metal. “I am here as requested,” he greets somberly with a tilt of his near-shaved head towards the host’s direction. “Though I have yet to learn why.”

The other grins beneath the shade of the dark hand. His teeth, as white and straight as the three-piece suit he flaunts, glimmer like fangs underneath the fire-red irises of the man’s augmented eyes and quaffed hair. With a swiftness he rises from his lean upon the statue’s wrist and closes the distance between them. The suited man’s step is formal, but not without a subtle rhythm. It echoes the confident dance of one who has not known need for quite some time. “Always business with you,” he chimes, his hand clasping the other’s shoulder, only to receive a patient stare in return. Red eyes narrow. “No matter…” He takes a step back. “Your appointment to FEMA should be finalized within the week,“ he continues, “I have already discussed the matter with the senator.”

The visitor’s dark lashed eyes flutter once with quiet interest, though his expression is dull and holds no outward mirth over his considerable lift in status. “I take it he was agreeable,” he asks, the softest notes of dark pride playing at the ends of his stoic words.

“He didn’t really have a choice,” the man in white replies, catching the hidden grin behind the other’s question, and playing it up with a smirk of his own.

But a brow quirks. “Has he been infected?”

“Oh yes.” The redhead responds quickly with an upward tilt if his chin. There is a snickering satisfaction to his voice. “Most certainly. When I mentioned that we could put him on the priority list for the Ambrosia vaccine he was so willing it was almost pathetic.”

With lips pursed in thought, the man trenched in black turns his head towards end of the hall - to the doors from which he entered the secret alcove. He did not share the host’s soaring pride over this particular detail. Barring coding, the man knew the mechanized virus and its effects intimately. He saw it day after day and in more ways than one. The other’s nonchalance troubled him. “This plague,” he speaks, softly still, “ - the rioting is intensifying to the point where we may not be able to contain it.”

“Why contain it,” the other boldly declares, gesturing out with an open hand. “Let it spill over to the schools and churches. Let the bodies pile up in the streets. In the end they’ll beg us to save them.” “I’ve received reports of armed attacks on shipments,” the man in black slowly advises, always the antithesis to the other in all except motive. “There’s not enough vaccine to go around, and the underclasses are starting to get desperate.” “Of course they’re desperate,” the redhead scoffs. “They can smell their deaths, and the sound they’ll make rattling their cages will serve as a warning to the rest.” Smokey eyes drift towards the other’s ember red. “Hmm. I hope you’re not underestimating the problem,” he says, pocketing his scar-laced hands into his coat’s deep pockets before casually leaning his weight onto one foot. “The others may not go as quietly as you think – intelligence indicates they’re behind the problems in Paris.” It is sudden - the change from simmering pride to boiling rage - and it is ugly upon the suited man’s handsomely groomed face. The fervor bares a terrible contrast to his previous smirks and snorts of confidence. “A bunch of pretentious old men playing at running the world,” he hisses between grinding teeth, the whites of his eyes growing beneath the shadow of a creased brow. But then, as quick as his anger came it went, and the man’s expression fell once again into a practiced grin. “But the world left them behind long ago,” he chides with a purr. “We are the future.” Unphased by the upset the man in black continues. “We have other problems.” “UNATCO?” A nod. “Formed by executive order after the terrorist strike on the Statue. I have someone in place though. I’m more concerned about Savage – he’s relocated to Vandenberg.” The host is quick to retort with yet another wave of a manicured hand. “Our biochem corpus is far in advance of theirs, as is our electronic sentience, and their…” slipping into thought, he rolls his head to one side, “ethical inflexibility has allowed us to make progress in areas they refuse to consider.” Something, a blush, perhaps born from a rare show of emotion, flashes across the visitor’s pale skin and emboldens the shadows below their eyes. It appeared purple under the light of the arched, red hall. “The augmentation project?” he whispers, gesturing for the man to answer. “Among other things - ,” a shrug, “ - but I must admit that I’ve been somewhat disappointed with the performance of the primary unit.” A sneer rumbles behind his words. 

Straightening, the visitor assumes another layer of professionalism to his usual calm. Like an officer giving a report he answers: “The secondary unit should be online soon. He’s currently undergoing preparations and should be operational within six months. My people will continue to report on his progress.” Without pause he adds: “If necessary, the primary will be terminated.” The answer pleases the man in white, whom nods approvingly and draws slowly towards his darker clad colleague. “We’ve had to endure much, you and I,” he sighs, resting a hand, once again, on the visitor’s shoulder, “but soon there will be order again, a new age.” A squeeze and a release. The man in black watches in silence as the other takes a step towards the dark hand, and tilts his head up to gaze at the fingers hooking the holo of the world. Their vision of Earth spins slowly, a gentle whirl of colour and hope surrounded by an unyielding stone of pocked grey. “Aquinas spoke of the mythical City on the Hill,” the man hums in awe, his breathy words severing the silence smothering the atmosphere of the cruel hall. “Soon that city will be a reality, and we will be crowned its kings.” He grins and gasps, dreams afire. “Or better than kings. Gods.”

#musings

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Fourteen: I Begin My Career in Bullfighting

Luz’s hands were shaking as the Minotaur charged again, slashing through the thorns with his ax. Willow swung her blade, and another wall appeared in front of it, buying them some more time.

“What do we do?” She yelped, as the beast bellowed in rage and reared back to swing again. Gus flinched behind his shield, and Amity stepped forward with her sword, her eyes hardened ready to attack. Luz’s heart hammered in her chest.

“Amity, get in the tent!” Luz ordered quickly, and the daughter of the love goddess whipped her head around to look at Luz with wide eyes.

“What? I’m not letting you do this on your own!”

“You’re injured and exhausted,” Luz retorted. She knew Amity was going to fight with her on this, but Luz thought that despite their little time, it was worth it. “You could get hurt. The three of us can hold it off.”

“I’ve dealt with worse these last few weeks,” Amity insisted. “Four demigods are better than three.” She turned her head back to the monster and Luz gawked in annoyance that she wasn’t going to listen to her.

Luz wanted to keep arguing with her, and she opened her mouth to do just that, but from her right, she felt Willow put a hand over her shoulder. When she turned, she was looking at her seriously, her green eyes shining with an emotion she couldn’t read.

“Let her fight. It’s no use trying to talk her out of it when she’s made up her mind. We’re out of time.”

She was right. With another roar, the Minotaur hacked down the thorns and charged, flying in their direction. Willow and Gus yelped, throwing their bodies to the right, but Luz just froze up, unable to tear her eyes away from the massive bull-man running at her at full speed.

Amity literally saved her life. She threw her body into Luz’s, knocking them both to the left. Luz felt her body skid and roll, and she scrambled to her feet, clutching her sword. She looked over and saw Amity struggling to get up, so she reached down and help pull her to her feet. The Minotaur wasn’t able to change direction fast enough and ran straight into the tree next to their tent, and the force of the impact caused him to roar in pain.

“Thanks,” Luz breathed out, and Amity simply leaned against Luz for support, the force of their fall clearly having knocked the wind out of her.

“Next time just pay attention,” she said, and while the tone was light, Luz felt a flash of guilt realizing just how close they’d come to being flattened. They needed a plan.

She looked over at her friends and saw that Gus was trying to get Willow to circle the monster around the tree. Thinking this was a decent idea, she charged forward with Amity on her heels and they spread out in a half-circle around it and took turns stabbing with their weapons. The Minotaur roared in annoyance, and its massive head swung around and around as it tried to pinpoint who had hit it where. But it was too slow, and with one particularly good strike from Amity, who stabbed it right in the thigh, it realized it was trapped.

Locking its eyes on Gus’ shiny sword, it reared back and charged, and the boy just barely had time to screech and dive sideways before it charged right where he’d been moments before.

It took the monster some time to do a complete full turn, but when it did, it’s eyes locked on a new target: Willow. As it reared back to charge, Willow swung her sword in a slashing motion, and roots sprung up from the ground, wrapping around its legs. The Minotaur tripped, falling to its knees, and Amity gasped.

“Now’s our chance!”

Luz had seen the opening too because she was already running. She knew Willow was doing her best to keep the thorns wrapped around its legs, and in Amity’s condition, she’d never get there in time before the monster broke free. She was the only one who’d be able to get there in time.

She broke into a long stride and leaped through the air right as the Minotaur broke free. With a swing of her leg, Luz managed to straddle it’s shoulder blades in a piggyback as it stood up, shaking as hard as it realized Luz was on it.

It took everything she had to hold on for dear life. The beast shook its head in a fury and began charging at random. Luz wanted to use Aletheia to stab as hard as she could into the back of his head, but she couldn’t keep a strong grip on both the sword and the Minotaur without being thrown off it.

The Minotaur kept charging at random, trying to shake Luz off while also keeping her friends at bay. Luz heard Amity shriek in surprise as it spun in a 180 and almost rammed her against a tree. If it’d not been for Willow, who’d seen it coming and was able to yank Amity out of the way, she’d also have been crushed. This spurred on new anger inside Luz. They’d come so far to free Amity from Orpheus, they were not going to fail her now. She couldn’t move her hands away from the monster's neck, but she did have her feet.

On one particularly hard spin, Luz used the momentum of the beast to throw her body up in the air, and come back down hard with her heel, slamming it into the back of the monster's spine. The Minotaur yelped and recoiled, and Luz finally had an opening. Luz reached into her pocket and slipped on the leather strap she only used on special occasions. When she felt it slide over her palm, she reared up her hand and slammed the buzzer down on the Minotaur as hard as she could. His whole body jerked as it was wracked with an electric shock, and the beast was frozen in paralysis.

Everybody around her moved at once. Willow and Amity used their swords to slash at its arms, and Gus charged with his spear, hitting it right in the stomach. There was a horrible squelching sound as all the weapons connected at once, and the beast went limp, dropping to its knees.

Luz leaped off it’s back and stabbed with her sword as hard as she could, and the blade went right through its heart. The Minotaur dissolved into dust, every part of it fading including its armor that melted away like butter. All that drop to the ground was a single silver chain around its neck, landing neatly in a pile on top of the monster dust.

Exhaling, Luz touched her blade and it turned back to a ring. Willow and Gus retracted their own weapons, and the three of them shared a look of exhaustion. How many more battles were they going to be in today? It was barely after two o’clock.

Amity tucked her xiphos back onto her belt, doing her best to stand straight, but Luz saw her chest rise and fall quickly. She was still favoring her leg, and while she knew nectar and ambrosia was all healing in a sense, she didn’t like that Amity looked almost just as exhausted now as she had at Orpheus’ manor.  

“How did it find us?”

Gus was the first to speak, his voice wavering fearfully. Luz was suddenly very aware of how much younger he was than Luz, Willow, and Amity. With his shield on his arm hiding half of his body and exposing his face, his features were still incredibly baby-like.

“The thorns should have kept our location hidden,” Willow mused, her own eyes dark with anxiety. “There’s no reason it should have spotted us in the forest like this.”

“Is there any way it could be tracking any of us?” Amity asked the question innocently, clearly not wanting to start any kind of pointing figures, but Luz’s blood ran cold. Her hands immediately popped up to her face, and her eyes widened comically.

“Holy Zeus,” she said guiltily. “I know how it found us.”

She then told them about the cellphone she had packed with them and forgotten to ask about. When she was halfway through the story, Gus groaned so loudly Luz winced. He looked like he wanted to smack Luz across the face.

“Are you serious?” He exclaimed, glaring at her. “There’s a reason cellphones are banned at camp.”

“That was very irresponsible, Luz,” Willow agreed, and Luz deflated, feeling worse about the whole thing.

“I’m sorry, guys,” she said, her face heating up. “I just wanted to have a way to keep in contact with my Mami. I put us all in danger and I’m sorry. I’ll leave my phone behind the next time we move.”

“We should move soon,” Gus said. Now that Luz had apologized, he looked less frustrated. He must have been able to tell how guilty Luz was feeling. “As long as that cellphone is on Luz, all monsters will know where we are.”

Amity, who had been quiet the whole time, was watching Luz with narrowed gold eyes. “Hold on, Luz, could you please go get your phone?”

Luz blinked, and Gus and Willow shared equally confused looks.

“Uh, okay.”

She went into her bag inside the tent and took out the phone, bringing it back outside. While she had gone to get it, Willow had waved her hand and grown back more thorns, but the act seemed to make her more exhausted than she’d been before. Luz’s curiosity spiked. She wondered how much energy summoning plants took out of her.

When she met back up with Amity, the gold eyed demigod held out her hand, and Luz dropped the phone into her palm. Amity pressed the home button on her iPhone 7 (Luz wasn’t allowed to have a new phone, she’d broken the X her Mami had splurged on her for Christmas last year and after that, she’d had to use her Mami’s old phone) and her eyebrows furrowed when it didn’t turn on.

“Has it been off the whole time?”

Luz frowned, she supposed she must have turned it off when they were in the chariot as they left Camp Halfblood. She nodded.

“Yeah, I didn’t want it to die on the trip in case I couldn’t charge it.”

Amity handed it back to her. “Then the monster didn’t find us from your phone.”

Now Luz was confused. “What?”

Gus sighed and nodded to what Amity was saying. He and Willow were now looking guilty.

“Monsters track the signal from the phone when you send or receive messages,” Gus explained. “So you’re phone wasn’t the reason the Minotaur found us.”

“Gus!” Willow hissed, looking around nervously. “Watch what you say.”

“Sorry, Pasiphae’s son.” Gus corrected. Luz now was so confused she just settled on the realization that she was never going to figure out this whole demigod thing so she just let Gus talk. “So we were traced here, but not by your phone.”

Amity had crouched down over the scatterings of Minotaur dust, and she pulled up a huge silver chain.

“This is it.”

Luz peered closer at it, and realized on the bottom of the chain there was a little old-timey message in a bottle hanging off the end. Amity popped the cork with her thumb, tipping it upside down to take out a small piece of paper. She unraveled it and read the note out loud.

“This is your last warning. Now that you have your friend, turn around now and go straight back to your camp. More horrors await you if you come after the hearth. -Theo”

Luz felt white-hot rage searing through her bones. “That jerk!”

“That’s some way to promise us they won’t hurt us if we turn around,” Willow said in annoyance.

“We should have known it was from him the second we saw what monster it was,” Gus added, turning to look at Luz guiltily. “Sorry for accusing you.”

“It’s fine,” Luz said, doing her best to control her temper. “I didn’t tell you that I’d brought it, so it’s also my fault too.”

“Hold on,” Amity said, and Luz was glad she wasn’t the only one who looked confused. “Who’s Theo?”

“We better get inside the tent and talk,” Willow said, her mouth forming into a hard line. “We have a lot to catch up on, from both sides.”

The four of them sat around the blanketed floor of their tent, each of them picking at the wraps they’d bought from Starbucks earlier that morning. The only one with an appetite seemed to be Amity, and she wolfed down the sandwich so quickly Luz wondered when the last time she’d had a real meal was.

Willow told their side of the story all the way from the beginning of camp, from when Edric and Emira had called on a favor from Aphrodite to take the chariot, to Antheia and the crowns, (which had finally wilted off their heads, and no flower magic Willow had tried seemed to get them back to health) to the white, sorry Caucasian, eagle. When she told Amity that the eagle had been killed in exchange for a ride, Amity winced.

“Sorry about that, Edric and Emira have a habit of just doing things without thinking.”

Luz shrugged. “It ended up working out. It got us all the way to Cincinnati in less than an hour. We met Theo… er… Theseus on the bus.”

Amity blinked, her gold eyes widening comically. “Like, the Theseus?”

The three of them nodded grimly, and Luz launched into the story about map reading and the bus ride from Indianapolis to Kansas City. When she finished, Amity’s face had gone ashen.

“That’s the third demigod rising from the dead to serve this man in the mountain. That is definitely not good.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot recently and I don’t want to push,” Luz began, and Amity’s face tightened. She knew she already had a feeling of what she was going to ask, but Luz’s curiosity had now gotten the better of her and there was no way she could stop the question now. “What happened in Colorado, Amity? What did Achilles want from you?”

Amity was quiet, and she reached down at her Southwest wrap and started picking at the pita. Luz wasn’t sure she was going to say anything at all, but then she started, and Luz and her friends were unable to stop themselves from leaning in eagerly.

“When I got to the mountain with Skara and Boscha, we thought we were going to face the man in the mountain… this Belos guy… right away. But before we even got up the mountain, there was some weird magic stopping us in our tracks. We couldn’t move. Our whole bodies started feeling cold, and even if we were in the mountains, it was way too cold for June. It started snowing, and I knew we needed to find shelter. It’s like this cave had appeared the second I had thought we needed it. When we went inside, Achilles was there waiting for us.”

Amity’s hands had begun to nervously climb up and rub her arms together. She looked lost in thought, and Luz didn’t want to push her to continue if she couldn’t. But then she steeled her expression and took a breath, and kept going.

“When we got there… Achilles looked directly at me. He called me ‘one half of the hero’. I had no idea what he was talking about… I thought he was calling me weak so I challenged him. That was such a mistake… he played at my pride and used it against me. When we were dueling, he leaned down right in my face and said that the prophecy would destroy me. I might have won if his words hadn’t rattled me so badly. I know the prophecy, I heard it and knew this quest was dangerous… but I hadn’t wanted to be the one to go down for it.”

She swallowed hard, and Luz had a hundred questions but it didn’t feel right to interrupt her right now.

“I thought after he captured me and sent Skara and Boscha away that I was dead for sure. I had almost lost all hope in anyone finding me… and then you three showed up and saved me despite all the terrible things I’ve done to you.”

Amity’s eyes had welled up, and Luz wondered if the tears were from terror, exhaustion, or relief. She turned to Willow and reached out with her hand to touch her arm. Willow didn’t flinch away, instead, she looked at Amity with wide, blinking eyes. Amity swallowed, looking shameful but also the most apologetic Luz had ever seen her.

“Willow, you were never too weak to be my friend. I was too weak to be yours. I can’t take back everything I did to you and Gus and Luz at camp, but I can promise that I will never let anybody hurt you guys ever again. I am so sorry.”

Willow paused, and Luz’s hands involuntarily went to her mouth. She couldn’t believe that this was the same Amity who had threatened to destroy her during capture the flag two weeks ago. After a moment, Willow blinked and tilted her head.

“I was listening to what you said before the monster attacked. I heard why you did it.” Her mouth twisted into the smallest of smiles. “I can’t say that we're friends just yet but… this is a start.”

Amity didn’t say anything, but the soft smile she gave Willow gave away just how relieved she was. Eventually, Gus and Luz were grinning too, and the tension broke like a knife. The four of them shared a couple more of the (very overpriced) Starbucks snacks they’d bought, and they talked and laughed about what Amity had missed at camp since she’d left for their quest, including the latest game of capture the flag where Edric had fallen into the creek and accidentally tripped the red team player running with the flag and accidentally won them the game. After the four of them had stopped laughing at the retelling of the story, Gus and Willow got to their feet.

Willow reached into her backpack and pulled out a baggie in the inside pocket. She fished around and pulled out three golden coins, and Luz gasped.“You’ve had gold all this time and we’ve been worried about money?”

Gus chuckled. “They’re golden drachma’s, Luz. “We should send an Iris Message to camp letting Eda and Lilith know that Amity is okay.”

“I saw a waterfall by the edge of the creek,” Willow said. “Where there’s a water flow, there’s a rainbow. Do you guys want to come?”

“As much as I’d love to hear from my siblings, I think I should probably rest,” Amity said, and Luz couldn’t have agreed more. Willow and Gus turned to Luz in question, and as much as Luz would have liked to hear from Eda, she didn’t like the idea of leaving Amity alone right now.

“You guys go, I’ll wait here.”

The two shared a glance, before shrugging. “Alright, we shouldn’t be too long,” Willow said, and Amity and Luz nodded to them in understanding. They got the code. If they were too long, they needed help.

As they left, Luz realized that she was once again alone with Amity. The two sat in quiet silence, it wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t steady either. The air seemed charged, and Luz realized it was because she was still itching with questions.

Unable to hold it back any longer, Luz finally felt like she could ask the question she’d been dying to know since Amity left.

“In the strawberry fields that morning, you’d asked me to watch after the camp,” Luz said, and Amity tensed, her hand freezing over the apple slice she was about to pop in her mouth. “Why did you ask me that of all people?”

Amity was quiet for only a couple of moments. Eventually, she put the apple slice down and looked up, her eyes conveying just how nervous she was to talk about this.

“The prophecy gave me some kind of indication that I would have to rely on other people besides the ones I knew well to finish the quest,” she said slowly, and Luz’s curiosity peaked. There it was again, that strange prophecy stuff. “I had been thinking so hard on it, that I felt like it couldn’t be a coincidence you were up that morning too. Then you told me about your dreams, and I knew something was off. Barcus’s prophecy had seemed so strange… like it told me nothing but everything all at once. You make me feel like that sometimes too. Like every time I look at you, there’s something big I’m missing just beyond my reach.”

Luz felt her face flush at the comment, and she knew it was because Amity had spoken just a little too freely. Luz got it, she really did, because Amity often made her feel the same way. Like that night of the skeleton attack when Amity had first opened up to her.

“When I got my prophecy, Barcus told me it was incomplete,” Luz said slowly. Amity blinked looking over at her in surprise. “He said that you’d only been given one half of it, and that I received the second part.”

As what Luz said began to process, Amity’s expression shifted from surprise to curiosity.

“A double prophecy? I’ve never heard of that happening before,” Amity mumbled, but her head was tilted curiously, so Luz smiled.

“Maybe if we each share our bit, we’ll understand the whole of it a little better!”

Amity suddenly got nervous, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know Luz… maybe your half is better than mine, but my prophecy wasn’t exactly optimistic.”

“That’s why you didn’t share it before you left?” Luz inquired, and Amity sighed.

“Yes.”

“But maybe the whole thing will sound better!” Luz tried, but Amity still looked nervous. Luz frowned, not understanding why Amity was being so hesitant.

“Look, my prophecy doesn’t exactly paint me in a very nice way,” Amity said, her face flushed. Luz realized she was now embarrassed, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. “I just… I don’t want you to judge me for it now that we actually seem to be getting along.”

Luz reached out reassuringly and put a hand on Amity’s arm. Amity’s face got, if possible, redder, the blush now reaching the tips of her ears.

“Whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you,” Luz promised, offering a white smile. “We’re in this together, remember?”

Amity paused for another moment before she nodded slowly. She opened her mouth and began to recite the lines.

“You shall go on a quest with those you hate calling friends,

From what you find in the nightmare, a hero’s life ends.”

Amity paused, her voice cracking on the last line. Luz winced as well. She had been hoping Theo was exaggerating about the “someone will die” part, but the prophecy seemed to be pretty clear. Luz did her best to steel her expression, not wanting to discourage Amity from continuing. It was like Eda said, prophecies can be misleading. They don’t always speak overtly. They could worry about this later. After a short pause, Amity continued.

“Left there alone, you cling to your past

Without better friends, your journey won’t last”

Amity finished her line, and Luz made a noise of understanding.

“I get why you didn’t want to share that,” she said gently, reaching out and wrapping her arm comfortingly around the other half-blood. Amity’s face was so red now it looked like she would pass out. Luz assumed this was from the nerve-wracking lines of the prophecy, so she squeezed her shoulder and smiled. “But the other half of the prophecy is a lot nicer. I’ll show you!”

Luz recited the lines as best she could from her memory.

“But with wisdom and life, the merchant travels and meets

The fallen heroes home, where they lose all their speech

It takes four to escape, and release the goddess caged

As a group restore peace, and dawn a new age.”

When she finished, she released her grip around Amity’s shoulders and grinned.

“See, we’re already off to a great start! It’ll take four of us to save Hestia, and now we have you on our side! Orpheus must have been the fallen hero since he used his lyre to not let us talk. So as a group, we’re going to save Olympus together!”

While Amity was not looking as upset as she was before, she was still biting her lip nervously.

“I don’t know, Luz. Don’t you think it all seems too good to be true?”

“There’s no such thing,” Luz insisted. “I won’t rest until we have this whole situation figured out. Repeat after me: we can fix this together!”

Amity sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, a little blush appearing on her cheeks. “We can fix this together.”

Luz whooped in excitement, pumping her fist in the air. “Yeah, we can!”  

#the owl house #lumity #luz x amity #Percy Jackson AU #shelby speaks