#have this in place of a snippet

[aroaceleovaldez]

i have suddenly become obsessed with a theme that HoO established but never proceeded to extrapolate on, which is:

You are Percy Jackson, and you have been swapped with a boy who was allegedly everyone's favorite person, but they have decided to replace him with you. They just met you. You stand next to his best friend and the people he's known his entire life. In his home. In his cloak. In his place. They stopped looking for him.

You are Jason Grace, and you have just found out you have a long lost sister who completely replaced you in her life with this girl you just met. Your lives and personalities are mirrors. She is you, living the life you were robbed of.

You are Annabeth Chase, and you have just become starkly aware that you have been inhabiting the void left behind by your best friend's long lost brother. You and Luke were just replacements for him. Now you have to look him in the eyes when he has nothing and know you took that life from him.

You are Piper McLean, and you have just found out your relationship is fake and built entirely on the memories of Annabeth Chase. You have been given a boyfriend when hers has been taken away. You have no idea how much of it is real or not but regardless you feel like if your relationship isn't exactly in their image that you have failed.

You are Leo Valdez, and you have just learned that you are the echo of your great-grandfather. You are not your own person. You just exist to be a mirror of him. A doppelganger. An actor and stunt double facing all the danger he never had to but wearing his face. To be there for his best friend decades later simply because he couldn't. You are playing a role. A seventh wheel and a pawn for a goddess who carefully sculpted your entire life for her own purposes.

You are Hazel Levesque, and the only reason you are alive is because your brother couldn't save your his sister. You are a consolation prize. An apology. Your existence here is misplaced in every way but you inhabit it anyways.

You are Frank Zhang, and you are a shapeshifter. Inhabiting your own body feels strange and clumsy when you could be literally anything at any time. You are anything and everything and live your life with the simple certainty of knowing exactly how you will die.

[laddertek]

etho said actually you _don't_ understand the intricacies of how tango is my boyfriend and bdubs is my ex

(and how tango and bdubs kiss too)

Scar: We went on that little adventure, you know! Etho: Yeah, yeah, we had our adventure, that's true, that's true. Scar: You disparaged your teammates. That's it, all right, no more spoilers. Etho: (laughs) Our team has -- our team has some weird dynamics this -- this season. Cleo: (overlapping) Really, Etho? Is there trouble in paradise? (pause) Who's third-wheeling with you, again? I can't remember. Etho: (laughs) Uhh. The -- Cleo: Genuinely can't remember. I know it's you and Bdubs. And...Tango? Tango. Tango. Etho: (loudly) Why -- Why is Tango the third wheel? Why -- why isn't Bdubs the third wheel? Cleo: Because it's you and Bdubs. I'm sorry. I understand how that relationship goes. Etho: (dissatisfied) Hmm.

[dtilmnh]

"If James was here-", Molly said, clearly not done yet and Sirius actually laughed. Of all the arguments she could have chosen, she went with that one.

"James would have never allowed me to be locked up here", he said. Sirius had never truly been sure if he deserved James's love and friendship, but if there was one thing he knew it was that James would have defended him until the very end. Remus opened his mouth, presumably to warn him not to leave the house.

"Relax Remus, I'm not going anywhere", Sirius said, waving him off. "But you and I both know that James would have burnt this place down before letting me so much as step foot in here again."

This time, no one said a word as he spun on his heel and walked away.

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

'friends in higher places' au masterlist

tumblr posts:

the thread that started it all - part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

dinner scene - part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 (is planned)

poseidon snippets (not chronological) - part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (i have an idea)

other bits - potential future thoughts | a potential angsty idea |

ao3:

chapter 1 | chapter 2 (coming soon?) |

[sandflakedraws]

so i'm readin various stuff on the xray cause this silly film is my current source of joy and

wait

hold up.

what...

WAHT ??? WHAT

XRAY CAST DESCRIPTION????

YEARS???

xrAY dESCRIPTION eXPLaIN!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN FLOYD WAS HELD CAPTIVE FOR YEARS, WHAT SECRET INFO DO U HAVE ACCESS TO???

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[wildstar25]

Honeymoon finale - Solution Nine

[G'raha] : "So you have been asked to fight for Solution Nine's entertainment... My love, it's not that I doubt your judgment, but are you sure this is something you should get involved in?" [Arsay]: "If I can use my skills to uplift the people of this place, don't see why I shouldn't, yeah? Plus, I'll need to find something to do while Shtola's investigating the gate." [Y'shtola]: "And here I've been preparing for your inevitable begging to join." [Arsay]: "Even I can admit there's work you do better alone. ..That said, I'll miss you every tick." [Y'shtola]: "I'll be but a call away, dear. What of you, Raha?" [G'raha]: "Likely continuing our in-depth report of the golden city; for the Student's records. Should the opportunity present itself that I may spectate a match featuring my most beloved star however..." [Y'shtola]: "Then you shall ensure you cheer her on with enough fever for the both of us." [Arsay]: "Heh! I'll be sure to keep you apprised of my schedule. ... <sighs> I guess this means our vacation is over. It's been fun, ay? Every moment I share with you both is a memory I will forever treasure; but these past two weeks... I've no words for how wonderful it's been. Shtola, Raha, I love you." [Y'shtola]: "And I, you." [G'raha]: <nods> "Beyond measure." [Arsay]: "Now, with this being our last night of fun and all; I've an idea in mind on how to spend it."

<<prev.

[thepenultimateword]

Types of Confessions : Public Confession

CW: Murder

“I love you!”

For a moment, the entire street seemed to go quiet. Cameras whirred from behind blockades. Nervous feet scraped the asphalt as police shifted, attention briefly moving from Supervillain to the battered hero who had just thrust their way into the line of fire.

Supervillain could only stare, the edge of their knife pressed to the Director’s throat. Just a smidge more pressure, and he’d bleed like the pig he was.

But there was Hero, breathing hard, hair sweaty and ragged in their face, costume in tatters. Supervillain had sent several of the syndicate to hold onto them until this business was over, but apparently they didn’t compare to a legal power user when they really wanted something.

“Don’t do it,” Hero said, stumbling forward another step. They were bleeding through one leg of their leggings. “You do it, and every officer here shoots you down. Or they catch you and dissect your brain until they figure out what went wrong. Why you can still hurt people.”

Supervillain raised their brow. “And if I do stop? What? Mr. Director here forgets I ever threatened him?”

Hero took another step. “I made a deal. I-if you stop. We can leave. Together. They won’t stop you. You don’t have to be trapped in this city anymore. You don’t have hide.”

Supervillain could feel the director’s shoulders relax a little. He was confident that Supervillain would take this out. Exchange all his bitterness for a happy ending.

“This is my magnum opus,” Supervillain said. What I’ve built my career on. You want me to give it up?”

“I love you!”

“Why should that matter?”

Hero choked.

The director stiffened.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you. This is about us. And everyone this city exploits. And crushes. And pushes under the rug. This place is supposed to be some sort of powered utopia but it’s a scheme. And I like it better when I’m the one behind the curtain.”

“Please. Please I don’t want to lose you.”

Supervillain’s heart pounded. Hero’s words only now just soaking in. They didn’t make a difference. But they felt warm in their chest. Hopeful. Grateful. Regretful.

They might never get the chance to actually kiss them. To hold them. To go on a date with them. To tell—

They could do that part. They’d intended to never say it, but well…

“I love you too.”

“Supervillain…” Hero sounded pleading. They knew it wasn’t the sort of ‘I love you’ that expected longevity.

“We could always do both.”

“Supervillain, no wait— I don’t even know if I— This isn’t how—”

They gazed directly into Hero’s eyes. “Save me, my hero.”

Then they slit the director’s throat.

[varpusvaras]

Fox had never really interacted with children before.

There had not been any time or opportunities for him to interact with the younger troopers on Kamino. They were all divided into their respective age groups, and then further by their ranks in training, so Fox had been surrounded only by his immediate peers for the first decade of his life. He had seen glimpses of the younger clones, of course, through the windows of the training rooms and passing by him on the hallways every now and then.

There were a lot more children on Coruscant, and Fox had even talked to many by now, but they had been fleeting moments as well. Just a few words here and there. The longest conversation he had ever had before this had been with the younger Jedi, who always greeted him and his troopers enthusiastically whenever they happened to be near the Temple. The young ones were nice enough, and always asked him so many questions, but still, there had always been a very distinct barrier between him and then. Never able to get too close, never able to from anything meaningful, not like some of his brothers with Padawans did.

All in all, Fox had never really thought that kids would in any way be an important part of his life, ever. It wasn't like he was ever going to have his own, after all. Some of his brothers enjoyed that sort of thought, having a family and all of that after the war was over, but Fox had always been a realist. The chances of the majority of them surviving long enough for any of that were slim, and even though they were slightly higher for the clones stationed on Coruscant, Fox wasn't betting on any of them. He was a soldier, and a Commander at that. He always had to be ready to die for the Republic at a moments notice. There was no room for dreaming about the non-existent future.

So, no, Fox had never imagined himself as a father, nor had he ever had any allusions that he would even be any good at it. Children were tiny and fragile in a way that he had never been and expected and needed things Fox had never received while growing up, and he had no delusions about being able to provide something he had no experience on to someone else.

All of this was going through his head as he clicked on yet another hair-braiding tutorial and started watching.

The Twi'lek on the screen made it look absurdly easy for someone who didn't even have hair. Was this some innane ability that all Nat-borns possessed? That didn't seem correct, but Fox wasn't sure what else it would be. He didn't have clumsy hands, quite the opposite, but this all seemed very complicated, and from the way Leia had asked him to do it, Fox had the distinct feeling that there were expectations placed on him about it.

Had his other future self done this too? Stared at one tutorial after another and practiced until it came as a second nature to him? So much so that Leia now held some sort of presumption about Fox's skills on the matter? If so, Fox cursed him to the deepest pits on Coruscant's lowest levels. Fox already had enough expectations placed upon him. He didn't need this as well.

He wasn't complaining out loud, no. This was not on Leia, after all, this was on Fox's dumb other future self who had decided that it was a good idea to play house with people who were absolutely, definitely, irrevocably way out of Fox's league. Well, what Fox had always been was an chronic overachiever, so maybe it all had been inevitable in some sort of twisted way, and had now led to Fox sitting in his office and staring at yet another tutorial. Leia was thankfully still content in playing games on Fox's datapads, as she had been for a better part of two hours by now. Were children supposed to be spending that much time staring at screens? Fox was pretty sure that he had heard one of the Senator's complaining about their children having too much screen time and being all whiny because of it. Fox didn't know. He had spent the majority of his life staring at screens. Well, the other future Fox could only blame himself for it all, since he had been the one who had decided to have a kid and learned to braid hair in the first place.

Fox watched the tutorial to the end, and then rewinded it a couple of times more. This one didn't look too complicated. He could do it. It was just hair.

"Alright", he said. Leia snapped her eyes up from the pad to him. "Come here, let's try it."

He didn't need to tell her twice. Leia hopped down from the couch immediately and ran to him, leaning against the edge of his chair in a very distinctly practised way. Okay. Fox could do this. It's just hair.

Leia had very soft and very long hair. The military-graded soap that Fox had had to give her had not yet scrubbed away all the nice products that she undoubtedly had been using so far, unless she just happened to have very soft hair naturally. Maybe that was just a thing. She was a princess, after all. Fox could imagine a princess just having hair like this.

Right. Divide to two parts. Easier to work with when you have less hair at once in your hands. That was easy. Tie up the half of the hair you aren't braiding yet. Easy as well. Then start from the top of the head, from the right, over, then left, over, bring more hair into it as you go. Right, over, left, over, right, over, left, over. Do not get distracted and mess it up. Right, over, left, over, right, over, left, over. Bring more hair into it as you go. Remember to keep it equally tight all the way. Tie up firmly at the end and fluff it up a little, like so. Then take the other side and try to make it as symmetrical as possible. Start from the top of the head, from the left, over, then right, over, bring more hair into it as you go. Left, over, right, over, left, over, right, over. Tie up, fluff it up a little.

Fox felt like he had held his breath the entire time. To Leia's credit, she had stood completely still the entire time, not complaining about Fox pulling at her hair maybe a bit too tight even once. Fox was sure that he had pulled her hair a bit too tight a few times. Not that he had meant to, but still.

It wasn't like he had been made for this.

"There", he said, as he had finished adjusting the hairtie on the second braid. He did not ask her what she thought. Fox could very much see all the places where he had left the braid a bit too loose and where he had not managed to pull all of the strands properly into it and where they were now sticking out. At least he had made two braids, and he had tried to tie them up tight enough so they would last more than ten minutes.

Leia straightened her back, and very carefully, she ran her hands over the braids, before standing up on her toes to see her reflection on one of the screens on Fox's desk. Fox braced himself a little, almost on reflex. They were just two braids, and not very neat ones at that. He had seen so many ways to braid hair in much more complex and beautiful ways that she probably expected from him, rather than the ones Fox had managed to construct on her head. She was a princess, after all, and princesses were supposed to get all of the best things in the Galaxy.

Not whatever mess Fox was capable of.

He watched as Leia turned her head a bit to see her hair better from the reflection, and then how her face split into a bright, toothy grin.

"Thank you Buir!" She turned around, and before Fox could say anything, she had climbed halfway onto his chair and wrapped her arms around his middle as far as she could reach. "Can I play a little more?"

"Uh", Fox tried to figure out how to speak with his suddenly very uncooperative tongue. "Sure. Just a little more."

"Okay!" Just like that, she was off again, skipping across the room back to the couch, her braids bouncing up and down with every step, and she jumped onto the couch and pulled the datapad back on her lap. She looked up at him one more time, and grinned at him again, before going back to whatever game she had been playing before.

Fox looked at her for a moment longer as she played. She was wiggling her feet happily as she did so, like this was all up to the bar she had come to expect in her life until now. As if Fox had managed to do something correct, just like her actual parents.

Fox swallowed, and turned back to his work. His heart was beating very loudly for something so little.

He didn't hate it.

[aliferous-ly]

Zed doesn't notice at first. His mornings are always rushed, so he'd gotten up, stuffed food in his face, thrown on some pants and a T-shirt, and grabbed a red jacket on his way out. He has Things to Do and Places to Be.

It's chilly out, but he doesn't notice that, either. Warmth seems to emanate from the jacket as he soars through frigid skies. He has a hankering for exploration, but maybe he should nether-travel to get to the outskirts of hermit-tread lands. Zed lands, walks into Pearl's house to search for a nether portal, and pulls at his jacket. Wow, she keeps it warm in here!

Eventually he finds what he's looking for. He hops through and nearly collapses at the wave of stifling heat. Sweat seems to evaporate the second it appears. Zed's mouth goes dry and he smacks his lips, taking deep, heaving, uncomfortable breaths. What on earth...?

He stumbles backwards, back through the portal and to the overworld. The jacket is the first to go, then his T-shirt and pants, and suddenly Zed's standing in Pearl's basement in his boxers.

He feels immediately better, especially after chugging some water he found in his ender chest (it's probably fine). He shivers as a draft cools his skin despite his body being horrifically warm.

Zed picks up the jacket, holding it out and thinning his lips.

Yeah. This is definitely Tango's.

[drowned-cypress]

“There’s something that’s been bothering me,” said Robin. “You said you copied yourself to my brain. Does that mean you’re not the original Al-An?”

“By definition, yes,” Al-An replied with equanimity. “But the distinction is negligible.”

Robin boggled at his dismissiveness. “Not to me! The original you that was in storage died! And the one before that, before you went into storage died as well!”

“Your statement is not false,” Al-An said with infuriating calmness. “But you are ignoring the facts of the situation. My pattern remains.” There was a pause, then, “This appears to be provoking an emotional reaction in you that does not seem commensurate with the circumstances.”

“Well, yes! It’s kind of an upsetting thought!” The Al-An in that storage cube had died right in front of Robin, and she hadn’t even realized it until now. She took a deep breath. He was right, she was getting emotional about this. She should probably try to calm down. It’s just… “Are you even the same person?”

“Of course.”

“But you’re not the original! You’re just a copy and your original self no longer exists. You can't be the same person. There’s no… no continuity of consciousness.”

“Please, Robin, do not minimize my existence.” Al-An’s voice was sharper than usual. “I am not lesser for having been transferred.”

Robin cringed, mentally kicking herself for her phrasing. “Sorry! I didn't mean it like that. Obviously you're still a person. I just meant… doesn't it bother you?”

“No, it does not bother me. Continuity of consciousness is an illusion. Is your consciousness not broken every time you experience unconsciousness? Every time you sleep?”

“Yes, but that’s different. I’m still in the same body.”

Al-An was quiet for a moment before responding, “The question must be asked, how do you know?”

What did he mean, how did she know? It was obvious! “Because I remember!”

“I also remember being in my previous vessels. Is that not the same?”

“No!”

“But I remember it. From my perspective, I have always been myself. Choices that I made in previous vessels continue to affect me even now. The fact that my data has been transferred has no bearing on my identity.”

“I don’t know how to articulate to you that it’s not the same,” Robin said with frustration. “You're a being with the memories of several other, nearly identical beings, mentally speaking.”

The momentary silence between them had a sudden, brittle quality to it. “That,” Al-An finally said, “is an enticing perspective. It would mean I am not responsible for actions taken in previous vessels. But it is not a perspective I can accept without compromising my scientific integrity. You are perceiving an arbitrary boundary. Are you not also a being with the memories of a previous, slightly different being? Are you not changed by your experiences? Not even my people ever remain exactly the same.”

“Well, no, simply changing as a person doesn't make me no longer the same person that had those previous experiences.” Robin wondered why not being responsible for his past actions was appealing to him. Had he done something he regretted?

“This is true,” Al-An agreed. “And the fact that my previous vessels are gone does not make me any less the same person who existed in them as well.”

“It… it’s not the same,” Robin replied helplessly. “The Al-An in the storage cube had a consciousness, and the Al-An before the storage cube had a consciousness, and you have a consciousness now, but they’re not the same consciousness.” And even if they were, there would be no way to prove it because he would believe himself to be the same being either way. This wasn’t an argument either of them could win, Robin realized.

“For my people,” Al-An continued, oblivious to Robin’s train of thought, “our data patterns contain our essence. Our vessels are not our selves. I am data. As long as my data exists, I exist.”

Ah crap, she was also invalidating his identity, wasn’t she? “Okay… okay. I guess if you’re satisfied, then it’s not my place to tell you how to feel, even if I feel differently.” 

“I appreciate the consideration,” Al-An said. Robin wasn’t sure if she was imagining the wry undertone to the comment.

[wikiangela]

several sentence sunday

so this is another fic I started on my vacation (I started three, and had one idea I haven't started yet lol - and one is already posted) - also, the two weeks here might change bc I'm struggling with the timeline (which doesn't matter but also it does lol) but I'll figure it out haha

(I'm still writing all my other wips btw, and gonna get to all the asks, but the writing beans have been gone lately, and I've been too exhausted lol - and my brain is so all over the place with my wips, idk what I wanna get to more)

___

Evan knows he’s in love with Tommy about two weeks into their relationship.

(...)

They still barely know each other, but Evan knows. He can’t explain why, can’t explain how, he just knows. Tommy Kinard is it for him.

The moment he realizes it with utmost clarity is nothing special, really. He just spent the night at Tommy’s – not the first one, but it’s still new enough to fill him with nervous, giddy excitement, butterflies swirling in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt in years before Tommy. Everything about Tommy makes him feel like this. Tommy’s eye-crinkling, nose-scrunching adorable smile; Tommy’s eyes, always so fond when he looks at him; Tommy’s lips that taste so amazing Buck never wants to stop kissing him; Tommy’s big, big hands that feels so good in Buck’s, those strong arms and broad shoulders… – just everything about Tommy. At first Buck thought it’s the newness of this, of Tommy, of knowing about his bisexuality. But he’s also gotten so comfortable with Tommy in such a short time, and it doesn't even really feel new anymore, he knows it must be just him, must be Tommy making him feel like a giddy teen with a crush. Except the way this feels… Buck’s a grown man with tons of experience, and he knows how infatuation feels, how a simple crush and attraction feels, how real love feels. And he knows, deep down in his core, in his soul, in his heart, that this is real, that this is definitely more than a crush. This is what love feels like.

___

no pressure tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed):

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @kinard-buckley @evansboyfriend @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @reformedplayerbibuck @spotsandsocks @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @girlwonder-writes @perfectlysunny02 @dadbodbuck

[stygiansauce]

🦃 morning / afternoon / evening!

Scarian is the classic <3 ive only written them once for a friend and it took me… months… got stuck on one scene and avoided it for ages (and then got into taurtis x grian but that’s another story)

Cub and Scar being brotherly and inseparable is soo <3333 everything to me. Have you read “closer to another shore”? Oh my god. Changed my life. And scar and Cub within that book… absolute peak. Devoured it twice over and once more on top of that. Very much recommend if you want to tear your own heart out and crush grian like a bug!

ooo! I'll have to give that one a lookie!

I have this whole scale AU for Scarian that I'll write one day. it's bound to be my hardst work yet (yeah including the historial research and mapping nightmare that is Dealing Despair), because Splinter is one of those fics you have to plan every single scene out to make it all come together in the end.

My goal with Splinter) whenever I get around to writing it, it is to have like a fraction of coolness Birrdie's as above, so below has?? It's still one of my favorite fics of all time and I strive to write an AU like that one day. Splinter isnt the same thing? it's like a past life kind of thing, but the part im trying to emulate from aasb is the "oh something is happening here...I am scared of it" vibe.

Eitherway, if you want a good Grian fic (with some Scarian) THATS the fic. This is the fic I give to all my friends new to the fandom/to fanfiction. I shove aasb and Dirges in the Dark at them because those are the two fanfics I want on my shelf YESTERDAY. Like physical copies. (I am working on that actually....)

OKAY I'VE YAPPED ENOUGH! Time to clock in for the writing shift today <3

[moonstruckdraws]

RAAAAAGH THEY WERE ALL SO GOOD

THE PREMIERE WAS SO GOOD EVERYONE WAS SILLY AND HAVING FUN AND EMOTIONS ACK—

I. LOVE. THIS. MUSICAL!

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

okay! here's the first poseidon 'snippet' . this takes place before and during this scene!

second snippet

there's a masterlist now!

hope you guys enjoy! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

*a few months after poseidon had left apollo’s infirmary finally all free of holes all healed up*

*up on olympus*

zeus: *bored outta his godly mind after 20 years of entertainment (especially those last 10 years)*

zeus: *suddenly struck with an idea*

zeus: *to no one in particular* i think i’m going to go pay my brother a visit… just to check on how he is…

zeus: *disappears in a flash of lightning*

hera: *entering the room*

hera: *stares at the scorch marks on the ground where zeus just was*

hera: *to herself* as long as its nothing to do with a woman or illegitimate child… then i don’t care.

*below the sea in poseidon’s palace*

*poseidon enjoying some peace and quiet; when in a flash, zeus on one of his very rare visits, appears in front of him*

zeus: *looking around the room* so… how are things?

poseidon:

poseidon: *sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose*

poseidon: what do you want zeus?

zeus: *ignoring poseidon’s question* where’s your queen?

poseidon: amphitrite is out visiting her sisters…wait never mind that-

poseidon: what do you want?

zeus: *now looking at poseidon* can’t i come see my big brother?

poseidon: you never bother, unless you want something.

poseidon: *anger now in his voice* so out with it.

zeus: *putting his hands up in front of him* whoa! no need to get angry…

zeus: *putting his hands down and a smirk appears* ...remember how that ended for you last time?

zeus: *smirk gets bigger* how you let odysseus beat you like that, i have no idea…

poseidon: *glaring at zeus* do not speak that name in my home

zeus: why my dear brother? are you perhaps… scared?

poseidon: *falling right into zeus provocations*

poseidon: i am NOT scared of that mons- mortal!

poseidon: he merely took advantage of my state after using a lot of my power!

zeus: *under his breath to himself* that power still didn’t kill him though, did it?

zeus: *to poseidon this time* but you’re not in that state now, are you? nor have you been since you left olympus… so what’s holding you back now?

poseidon: *raising an eyebrow at zeus* holding me back from what?

zeus: *knows he has poseidon hook, line and sinker*

zeus: i understand you can no longer hurt him or his family; unless you want to incur the wrath of my daughter… and i suppose even my wife

zeus: but you can make trouble for him still, can’t you?

poseidon:

zeus: *notices the slight hesitation*

zeus: or maybe you are truly fearful of him now? the mighty god of the seas, terrified of a mortal king.

poseidon: *blinks and then goes back to glaring at zeus*

poseidon: i told you i am not sca-

zeus: -then what’s stopping you?

poseidon: NOTH- *coughs* nothing.

poseidon: *crosses his arms and looks away from zeus*

zeus: *laughs knowing he’s done what he came here to do*

zeus: well, i shouldn’t stay too long away from olympus... enjoy the rest of your day brother.

zeus: *disappears in another flash of lightning*

poseidon: *looks at the scorch marks on his floor*

poseidon: he always leaves a mess…

poseidon: *thinking over the conversation again*

poseidon: i’ll show him who’s scared.

*outside the shores of ithaca*

poseidon: *looking the nice clear weather and seeing the merchant ships coming to and from ithaca*

poseidon: it would be a shame if something disrupted this...

poseidon: *smirks* *summons his trident & lifts it to the sky*

*the wind picks up and storm clouds quickly start forming*

poseidon: *can hear distant shouts of mortals reacting to the sudden storm*

poseidon: *laughs to himself* perfect.

poseidon: well, i guess i’ll leave this to brew. i’ll check back later to see what damage has happe-

poseidon: *a full body shiver comes over him out of nowhere*

poseidon: *turns to look at the ithacan docks where he can see..a mortal?*

poseidon: why i am i bothered by that mo-

poseidon: *sees deep red eyes and realises who the mortal is*

poseidon: -oh no.

*the king of ithaca odysseus stands there, glaring into the storm*

odysseus: *in a cold voice* I am going sailing with my son. There will be no issues, is that understood?

poseidon: *even though he knows odysseus can’t hear him* aye aye captain!

poseidon: *with a whimper calls off the storm immediately and quickly dives back under the water*

poseidon: *before he can completely leave, he can hear the voice of odysseus saying “good.”*

poseidon: *about to head straight back home but pauses*

poseidon: *remembers odysseus said he was going sailing with his son*

poseidon: *knows he may be god of the sea, but he can’t always be there to control what the residents of said sea get up too*

poseidon: maybe i should just make sure there’s nothing to make him angrier at me

poseidon: *secretly follows & stays near odysseus’ and telemachus’ ship*

[crimsongrimoire]

my boys. i miss them