#again... me and percy if we had a yard...

[blistexenthusiast]

candle homes by Optometry World

[mean-scarlet-deceiver]

Something I think is interesting about Percy is his relationship with conflict.

His first appearance shows that he's very unafraid of it — as I loveeee bringing up, he was in service on Sodor for mere hours before he saw Henry wheeshing Edward and he decided to jump right in and wheesh this relative-to-him-absolutely-gigantic engine right back, and made said gargantuan back off, and he was totally chill about the whole thing. "Oh, that's nothing — you should hear them in the workshop." He's used to handling conflict this way. No doubt he's historically been unafraid to resort to his buffers or to sneak-attacks or, as we see here, just literally out-"shout" anyone and everyone.

We also see that his motives for jumping in are to defend others. He's instinctively David against Goliath and he fights for others, not himself. And I think this quality remains consistent with him — he's always very ready to take up for the underdog.

The way he takes up for them changes, though. One book later, when it's Gordon being a jerk to Henry, Percy is moved to act. But instead of challenging Gordon, he just comforts Henry. And I think this remains consistent, we never see Percy get into a good scrap in the yard ever again.

There are a lot of forces that would result in this rather rapid shift in Percy's approach to conflict. One is that Percy wasn't on Sodor very much longer before he found that he was out of his depth in some ways. He's used to handling himself in a yard, but his first venture on the main line nearly resulted in a massive wreck and, of course, it may be relevant in "Gordon's Whistle" that it was Gordon who was very gracious to Percy in the aftermath of that incident, perhaps Percy has a special respect for Gordon for that reason.

But, more broadly, Percy is a bit less exuberant than he was on arrival cos he's since grappled with how his new BIG environment means he's not as effortlessly comfortable in his own paint as he used to be.

Also, no doubt, Percy found that the Fat Director wasn't, like... wild about Percy's old habits of handling conflict. (I think it was Houseboat n' me who were joking once in the DMs about James loving to watch a good scrap — he wouldn't fight himself lol, he's more one of the guy who stands well back in the crowd and yells — and how this is one respect in which Sodor may have been a bit dull for him. Percy, however, woulda been one of the lads trading buffers lol!) I think Percy might have held his own against the rather repressive influence of the big engines longer (same with Thomas's undoubtedly overbearing moments when Percy is transferred to his branch line), but he doesn't want to upset his boss either, and that's a circle I dunno if Percy even to this day is sure that he knows how to square. He has a lot of genuine respect for the Fat Controller. This is better than the times he had bosses he didn't and couldn't and didn't even have the chance to respect — but it is constraining.

A lot of his canon stories afterwards (Wilbert stories and TVS) seem to feature "characterization drift," but I think a lot of them make sense in this context of Percy who no longer feels free to handle conflict in the way he best knows how. So sometimes he feels he just has to take it (ugh), or he has to seek advice/have someone better at railway politics intervene (phew), and I often think of a lot of his chronic TVS vocabulary confusion as a bit of Obfuscating Stupidity. Just not liking where the current conversation is going and therefore by chaotic but muted instinct throwing a curveball to try and derail things. Gordon and Thomas love explaining things to him like he's an idiot. So give 'em something to patronise him about. Then maybe they'll stop fuckin' acting Like That.

[togetherness23]

Conversation

implicit Edward/Henry

Additional Tags for AO3: Apologies, Conversations, Developing Relationships, did you know that Edward was at the site of the Flying Kipper crash in the TVS?, (Henry wasn’t conscious enough at the time to have known that, sadly), Friendships, no beta we die like Henry almost did with the Kipper

Summary: Henry tries to apologize; Edward tries to amend.

Notes: First proper TTTE fic?

“What’s got yourself in a stir?” Edward had asked him one cool evening. They were both waiting at the big station, the smaller engine having just tidied up the yard.

“Your wheels have been creaking rather loudly since you pulled in. Either you haven’t been to the Works in a while,” Edward mused, knowing that would’ve been unlikely, “or you have something on your mind.”

It had been a few weeks since he had went out for maintenance himself. That was the culmination of a broken crankpin and a special train that was hours late.

He had felt fortunate that Henry was the engine waiting at the station- he could tell that his face lit up as he heard him whistle triumphantly, wearily pulling into the station, was one with the cheering enthusiasts as they crossed the platform. But after Edward returned to the sheds, they hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk more.

However, though he meant to spark conversation, the bigger engine seemed rather uneasy.

“Reminiscing.” Henry said plainly, causing Edward to purse his mouth. “Not fond ones.”

“Did… someone…?” Edward wasn’t sure how to prod. Did someone prompt this?

“I’ve been seeining Percy with Gordon and James a lot more frequently. He’s been really… well, puffed up in the boiler as of late?”

“It’s nice that he’s come so far since then.” Edward grinned at the thought of Percy scrambling the inside of Gordon’s boiler with his antics yet again.

“Still, can’t help but think back on his first day.” Henry frowned. “When you were near the sheds with him and I stormed up…”

“Oh, but that was in the past!” Edward was quick to laugh.

“I can’t let it go.” The big engine sighed, a large hiss now exhaling out of his funnel. His eyes fell to the gravel beneath their rails.

Edward was just as quick to stop. Percy didn’t sing the tunnel song in front of him again, did he?

“Percy certainly likes you now,” he consoled. “Of course, he was quicker to the shunt, but surely he’s over it by now.”

“But I nearly did that to you.”

And, for whatever reason, Edward found himself unable to reassure.

“…But you didn’t. Percy stopped you, we had a laugh about it, and you didn’t try it on again.”

“I’m sorry,” Henry grimaced, “Won’t you at least let me be remorseful?”

“I’m not stopping you,” Edward replied. Was he?

“It wasn’t right of us- of me- to have ever doubted you”, Henry spoke further. “Of course Duck and BoCo were mad when we were chattering about you. They’re your friends. They knew you would’ve persevered from the start. Me, James, Gordon…”

“I can’t blame you for thinking these things,” Edward replied, selectively creaking his front wheels. “I was due for maintenance. You said it yourself, I was positively straining when I pulled that train!”

Henry didn’t feel any better with Edward chuckling at the memory.

“Well- but— you’re so much better than the lot of us—”

“Don’t put yourself down so much for my sake.” Edward firmly interrupted. “Aren’t we friends again?”

“Well, you were always a good friend.”

“Only because you’re a good one to have.”

“You’re just saying that,” Henry replied, still looking down. “You’re kind, Edward. You really know how to stoke one’s firebox. I admire you for it.”

“I admire you too.”

It was said so casually, so softly, that in any other conversation with the other engines, it would’ve surely been drowned out either through sheer noise or banter.

Henry had stopped hissing steam.

Edward kept going. “That night, when it was pouring and I made it to the station hours late with the visitors… you know, I didn’t make it through out of sheer kindness. You saw how red my face was by the time I pulled in.”

“You minded the comments we made. You heard about them.” Henry muttered.

“No, I hadn’t thought of what you said,” Edward replied. “I was reminded of what you did. Remember the days when you were in your old shape?”

“Whatever could you mean by that?” Now it was Henry’s turn to laugh sadly. “When you had to pick up the work after me when I broke down? Or when we completely shunned you while we were on strike?”

“It’s not any particular memory. But seeing you, an engine with problems noticeably worse than my own- who was doubted by so many, including the Fat Controller…”

“The Controller.” Henry’s stare went wide, then focused again. “That’s right. Y’know, I had never seen him so angry at you before- that night you pulled in late.”

“How you were able to bare it all those years ago, I wouldn’t know,” Edward grinned for a moment, but then let his face fall. “I almost couldn’t believe he actually said the possibility of sending you away. But in the end, he didn’t. I- we’re all glad for it.

And that’s exactly what I’m talking about, Henry. The odds looked impossibly stacked against you- your poor design and subsequent performance, all of that. And yet… here you are now. You persevered.”

“But that wasn’t all me. You picked up after many of my jobs. Who knows- if you weren’t there, maybe the Controller would’ve given up on me earlier.”

Almost like that one cold morning, Edward thinks to himself.

“Huh?”

“Oh, sorry, just thinking of one of those busy days. Carry on.”

Conversation for another night.

“Well…,” Henry began, retracing his route of thought, “wait, no. I’m still trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“That’s because I want us to be friends again,” reiterated Edward. “And I can’t very well do that while you’ve walled yourself up in shame yet again.”

There was another pause.

Then, a crack of a smile.

“Did you just say ‘Walled up in shame?’ I can’t believe you, Edward.”

Henry was in stitches, allowing a full smile to spread his bufferbeam. And Edward couldn’t help it- he laughed wholeheartedly with him, feeling funny in the boiler.

“But,” Henry switched back to a more neutral expression, “you shouldn’t feel like you have to be fine every time you see me.”

“It’s okay—”

“Edward.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Edward, you haven’t been okay for a while,” Henry said bluntly. “I can see it in your face. And in not being able to even talk about these things without chuckling it off.”

Edward, his eyebrows furrowed, stared directly ahead at him. Henry continued.

“I wasn’t alright either, all those years ago. And even now, I still go through the motions every other day when there’s something bothering me. But this doesn’t mean you won’t ever be okay again. Just that you don’t have to pretend that it never happened at all.”

“I’m sorry, yes. I just…”

Was this Henry, giving him wisdom? What could he say to that?

“I just miss you.” Edward almost blurted. “I don’t wish for you to feel like you have to make up so much for me. I’m not worth the trouble.”

“Of course it’s worth it to make up to you.” Henry replied, serious. Then, his face softened. “I miss you too.”

I want to do this together.

It couldn’t be clearer. Not where they were now and where they wanted to go- but that he was with him.

And we could be okay.

“If it’s any worth, you were always my favorite engine to share a train with.” Edward somehow beamed brighter.

Henry could feel the lights on him, causing his face to heat. Were the station lights always so warm?

“Well, I may have a longer train tomorrow. I don’t suppose a certain engine at Wellsworth would be willing to lend me a wheel over Gordon’s Hill?”

“They might, if you whistle loudly enough...”

——

The Flying Kipper was heavier than usual. The big green engine still hauled it with all his might, feeling rather emboldened.

Slowing down to a stop at Wellsworth Station, he whistled loudly with a peep! peep! peep! and called for help. A blue tender engine quickly chuffed up with a peep! peep! and buffered up to the end of the train.

“I’m ready!”

“So am I!”

And they set off together.

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:4 C:69]

(Siffrin) {Mal Du Pays} <Null> |Asterion| +Rosmarinus+ =Socks= [Loop] [(Saffron)] 

<The arrow slowed in the air as it flew towards you, and in one slice, you split it in half.>

“Good reaction!” <Ark shouted from across the yard.> “But your stance is off, bend your knees, spread your legs wider, and again!”

<She raised her bow, armed with harmless dulled arrows, pulled back, and shot again. This time you split the arrow just like before, but you could feel the strain on your muscles lessen.>

“Good!” <Ark lowered her bow.> “You’re a quick learner.”

“Thank you.” <You wipe the sweat from your forehead.> “You’re a good teacher.”

<You, Mirabelle, and Ramos had all gone down to Arks watchtower near the south gate. There was a clear yard next to it that she used for training, and that’s where you all were now, training. If you wanted to beat Perci, you had to be versatile.>

“Alright, let’s take a breather.” <Ark swung her bow over her shoulder and walked to the side, you followed.> “Mirabelle, Ramos, the floor is yours.” 

“Alright!” <Mirabelle jumped up with Ramos following, each with their rapier and tonfas respectively. You sat down as the two got into position.>

“Ramos looks way more comfortable today.” <Ark commented.> 

“O-oh yeah!” (You jumped back to front.) “They’ve been uh, struggling with some stuff, but it’s sorted now s-so. . .”

“. . . Let me guess.” (Ark shrugged, taking a drink from a flask.) “Nightmares?”

“Huh?” (You were surprised at the guess, but shrugged.) “Uh, n-no not that.”

“Damn.” (Ark huffed and shook her head.) “Lucky, me and Thai keep waking each other up in the middle of the night because of damn nightmares.”

“Both of you?!?” (You ask, surprised.) 

“Hardly.” (She shrugged.) “Y’know Dr. Gina? He’s been having trouble sleeping too, and that’s to say nothing about his boyfriend Eden, poor guy’s falling asleep standing up!”

<. . . Well. That’s good to know.>

(You blink, then turn back to the scene of Mirabelle and Ramos.) “. . . Most of us have been getting them too.”

“Crab, so it is a pandemic then.” (Ark laughs.) “Just our luck.”

(Right. . .)

<It’s affecting Percival and Merlon too. Ark, Thai, Gina, and this Eden person. Perhaps even the whole town. Hmm, idea.> “Have the sadness attacks at least let up?” 

“Of course not.” (Ark shakes her head.) “Nothing huge like before, enough that I can take care of it. Groups of three or four sadness at a time, usually the faster ones.”

“If it weren’t sadness that were attacking, I’d call those scouting parties.” +You look to the sky, thinking.+ “here there patterns leading up to the other two big attacks?”

(STARS do you just show up whenever you feel like it?!?)

<Are you new here, Siffrin. Always expect an unexpected visitor.>

+Hehe. Ark thought for a moment before responding.+ “. . . Yeah actually, usually there would be a few days with none of those ‘scouting parties’ getting close. Last scouting attack was yesterday, so if that’s true we should still be good.”

“Right. . .” +Still, it makes you nervous.+

(You watched Mira and Ramos fight. Mirabelles stance was somewhat consistent, a middle ground between offense and defence, although usually leaning on the offense. Ramos on the other hand had a clear line; they’d keep their tonfas in line with their arm on the defensive, and start spinning them like crazy on the offense. It really was the perfect weapon for a scissors/rock type.)

+Actually that reminded you; why is it that we all have different types? Aren’t we born with our types?+

<I don’t remember. But I have no type at all. Or craft skills, for that matter.  Not that I need them.>

(Well that’s apparent.)

+WAIT! No you’re not BORN with your craft type, your craft type is somewhat malleable until it solidifies into one as you mature!+

(LIKE A PERSONALITY!!!)

<Like us, huh. That could explain our differing types.>

(Weird! You dig around in your pockets and find a snack (toasted pecans) and munch on them. Ark held out a hand and you gave her some, after hesitating for a second.)

(After a few minutes, Ramos stepped back and held up a hand.) “I, need a second.”

“O-oh! It’s okay! We can take a break if you want.” (Mirabelle reassures, walking forward.)

“N-no it’s fine, I just. . .” (Ramos shakes their head.) “Just. Ark? You said you had spare weapons? May I try one?”

“Uh.” (Ark raised an eyebrow.) “Suuuure? They’re at the base of my tower, just inside.”

“Thank you.” (Ramos jogged over, grabbed their bag and cloak, then went to the tower. Mirabelle walked to you all as they went.)

“I wonder what that was about. . .” (Mirabelle was rubbing her shoulder.) “I-I hope I didn’t do something wrong.”

“I don’t think you did.” (You smile at her.) 

“A-are you sure?” 

“Very!”

(It only took a minute until the door at the base of the watchtower flew open, Ramos, maybe, running from it back to the field. This time, they had their cloak on, and a mask. A mask? Where did they. . . Oh! OH!!! That’s the mask hanging on the wall of their room that you saw!!! Why were they wearing it? And when did they take it down?)

(They stopped at the center of the field with their new weapon, and epee, and waited. You chuckled.) “I think you have a new challenger, Mira.”

(It took a moment for Mirabelle to realize what was going on, but when she did, she beamed.) “Right!!!” (She ran to the field.)

“What’s this about?” (Ark asked.)

“Savior things~” (You smirk.)

(You look at the two. Mirabelle bowed, and raised her rapier, and, as the first time you’ve seen it fronting, Nihil does the same with its epee. They inch towards each other.)

“Oh Change.” (Ark whistled, and stood up.) “This’ll be fun.”

“Huh? (You stand up also.) “What’ll be-”

<But you’re cut off by the sound metal on metal. The match had started. Mirabelle was blocking a flurry of strikes from Nihil and backing up. They were good, both very, very good. Nihil striked Mira on the arm and both stepped back.>

“Safe!” (Ark yelled.) “Point to Ramos.”

+Oh! Fencing! Duh.+

(RIGHT!!! You knew it looked familiar! The match continued, blow after blow. Another point to Nihil, but the third goes to Mirabelle when she deflects a blow down and striked its chest. The fourth point goes on for a while, neither gaining the upper hand until Mira grazes Nihils abdomen.)

“What’s the difference between a rapier and epee anyways?” (You ask.)

“A rapier is longer and designed for more intricate techniques.” (Arks eyes stay glued to the match.) “An epee is much lighter and faster.”

(Ah. You understand that.)

<You can just say you don’t, you know. The match continues, point to Nihil, and the next, then the next three to Mira. After that is one Ark couldn’t call, then one to Nihil.> 

“Match point!” (Ark calls out. The two were focused, having long since stopped their banter.)

<Strike in again, Mirabelle deflects blow after blow, stepping back and to the side. Nihil hops over a swing and thrusts, Mirabelle blocks deftly. They each back up, waiting for their next chance. Mirabelle thrusts in, Nihil deflects, counters, a near miss, Mira punishes the miss, and a moment later, it’s over.>

“Point to Mirabelle, for game!” (Ark clapped, you joined in.) “That was fantastic!”

(Nihil was standing there, breathing heavily as Mirabelle approached.) “A-are you alright? I-I didn’t go too hard did I?”

(Nihil looked at Mirabelle, tilting its head slightly. A moment later, Mirabelle jumped in place and laughed.) “C-change you scared me!!”

(Ark gave you a look as if to say “the crab just happened”, you shrug. Nihil stepped back, a hand to its head. It sat down for a moment breathing before taking off the mask and running a hand through their hair.) “W-woah, crab that was, intense!”

+Well, guess Ramos’ back.+

<Nihil probably wanted to try fighting with an Epee, and left as soon as it got attention. Ha!>

(Heheh, maybe. You go over and hold out a hand to Ramos.) “Nice show you two! It’ll be hard to beat Mira, she’s ra-pierless~” 

“PFFT-”

<Ugh.>

“NO!!!!”

+Hahah!+

“Hehehe!!!”

(Yes!!! Another successful joke!!! You smile as Ramos grabs your hand-)

“HA-” (Ramos yelps and lets go, falling back down, eyes wide.) “W-wha-aaathhe--”

“R-ramos!!!” (You kneel down next to them in a flash, Mirabelle following a moment later.) “A-are you alright??? D-d-did you break something??? O-or, or--”

“N-no it’s, I. . .” (They rubbed the palm of their hand, then sharply inhaled.) “I-it’s just, tender, I-I think.”

“You were fighting with that Epee pretty fast. Maybe you messed something up with your hand nerves?” (Ark suggests.)

“. . . WAIT!!!” (Mira perks up.) “I-it’s the same with Perci!!!”

“Huh?!?”

“What about Perci?”

“?!?!?!”

“W-well, his hands!” (She continued.) “They got a lot more sensitive from using mind craft so much! That gash I gave him back at the inn was still there when we last saw him. S-so. . .”

“Oh yeah!” +You snapped your fingers.+ “I think Gina mentioned something about that, craft overuse. And apparently doing that with mind craft makes your hands sensitive.”

“O-oh. . .” (Ramos looks down at their hands, hiding their face with their cloak. Aww, like you do!)

“. . . Iiiii’ll pretend I didn’t hear all that.” (Ark rolled her eyes and sat down.)

“UHM-”

“R-RIGHT, SORRY!!!”

“No biggie.” (She shrugged.) “Whatever you have going on, I got your back, saviors.”

“T-thank you, Ark.” (Mira says, relieved.) “A-and I, guess we should get you some gloves now, Ramos, right?”

“Y-yeah. . .” (Ramos looks away- wait. . . You look closer.)

(They’re BLUSHING!!!)

“. . . Ramos.” (You say with your most trustworthy smile.) “Can I see your hand, please?”

“U-UH-” (Ramos jolts to attention.) “UH- s-sure???”

(You gently take their hand and press into their palm. They immediately take it back, blushing harder.)

“. . . . . Ramos.” (You’re grinning.)

“FGBHANSDSMDAD” (They hide in the cloak.) “S-SHUTUP!!!”

(You all have a big laugh at that. Oh this is going to be VERY good information to have. You feel light headed.)

(It was about time for a break anyways, so you all start eating snacks and telling stories about your travels. Apparently, Ark was from some far off country on the other side of the ocean. She was in some, organized, army, thing, but she couldn’t remember specifics. But that was okay, because you just liked hearing them all talk.)

(You lay back and close your eye to think.)

(You, Null, Rosmarinus, and the others averaged levels 75 to 99. Saffron was only at level 50, and Socks was at level 6, impressive, for a cat. Mira, Isa, and Odile were levels 54, 56, and 55, and Nille was level 31. Ramo, Alex, Altiare, and Nihil were levels 35, 36, 33, and 51.)

(But most surprising of all was Bonnie, who’d reached level 40.)

(None of you had paid much attention to Bonnies level, they’re just a kid after all. But, well, with re-experiencing all of those loops, they got quite the boost in level. You didn’t like it, neither did Nille.)

(They’re going to be level 99 before they turn thirteen.)

(The thought makes you shudder.)

(You feel a weight on your stomach. Opening an eye, you see Ramos laying their head on your belly. You couldn’t help but smile and run a hand through their hair. . .)

“Cute.” (Ark chuckled, you didn’t even care that you were embarrassed. You just turn your head to the side, leaving Mira and Ark to chat.) 

(What a nice day. . . The grass was dry on this crisp, cloudless winter day. The cold drifted over your face, nipping but not stinging. You see a stranger pass by, pausing a second to look at you all before continuing. Not many people out today, it seems. Ha! Too cold for them, then. You always liked the cold, that’s why you liked to make trips up those snowy mountains to. . . To. . .)

+OH!!+ “I used to take walks up snowy mountains at home. I always liked the cold. And. . .”

“O-oh!! I’m on it” +You hear Mirabelle start writing. You sigh in relief, and go back to relaxing.+ “. . . O-oh! Siffrin has memory issues and sometimes remembers things so, we write it down for them!”

“Aww, that’s sweet of y’all.” +Ark hums.+ “Oh yeah, Ramos you can keep the epee.”

“R-really?” 

“Yeah go for it. I’ve never been a fan of an epee so by all means take it.”

“Thanks, Ark.”

“No problem, heh.”

(Today was a very, very good day!)

[ameagrice]

Capsize

percy jackson x f!reader

chapter thirty-three: run, girl, run!

That night, you sneak up to the Big House again, when all is quiet across camp. The balls of light floating around the camp store allow you to sneak past without falling down the hill, grateful to see the lights of the house still on.

He must have been expecting that you couldn’t just get in bed and fall asleep with so many things on your mind. You climb the steps of the porch, and slide in slowly through the open doorway. It’s warm again tonight, the air is hot and humid, but inside the Big House it feels homely as ever, cool. Chiron stands, reading through an old and tattered book in his hands. He looks up when you walk in.

“Hi,” you say.

“It’s very late,” he replies, snapping the book shut. “You want to know if I’ve considered what you asked, don’t you?”

You nod. It’s not like you’d asked anything else. “But I want to know what happened to Chris Rodriguez, too. How Clarisse found him. Why he went down there.”

Chiron sighs, like he’s tired, and waves a hand to the couch. You don’t hesitate in taking a seat.

“It started after you left with Percy for the summer…”

You spend the remainder of the night flicking through all the books in the house, on Ancient Greece, the gods, Daedalus mainly. Chiron talks as you read, of how Clarisse blew up an entrance to the maze somewhere in the country, of how it simply moved a few yards away. He talks of Chris going insane from what he saw down there, from what Luke’s men had him do. Chris currently resides in the basement, the only place he feels safe enough without panicking to high heaven. He refuses to come out, but at least nothing can hurt him down there. Clarisse was scarred from the maze itself, and vowed never to step foot in there again. It makes sense—the few hours you were down there with Percy were creepy enough.

“I dreamed of Nico, and Percy did too. He’s trying to raise the dead, and someone is guiding or helping him or something,” you offer over a cup of hot tea and The Odyssey. You close the chapter on your mother. “He misses Bianca. Makes sense, but…he needs help.”

“The boy is troubled,” he agrees. “He has been led astray.”

“We can get him back. He doesn’t have to end up in trouble. You thought Percy was the only child of the Big Three who would make a mess of things. Then Thalia turned up, and left. But now there’s Nico; do you really want him running loose, led astray?” Chiron tilts his head. “We all heard about the ‘dangers’ of the children of those three. Although I really doubt Percy could wreak havoc. He misses his mouth when he eats pizza.”

Chiron laughs, but it’s missing something. Does he think of all your failures in the past? Is that why he doesn’t want you to go on this quest? You wouldn’t blame him, because all you’ve done so far is evade your own death and cause other people’s. Not directly, but your choices spurred theirs. At least that’s how it feels.

“I know you think I’m not right for this, but I need you to trust me.”

“It isn’t that you’re not right for this,” he deflects. “It’s that things in our world are getting worse, and sending heroes off to fight these battles have more risks than before. You know what happened to Chris and Clarisse. I’d like to avoid that from happening to anybody else.”

“Well, sometimes we can’t change fate. What’s meant to be is meant to be.”

It’s like you’ve shot him. He stills, blanching. Chiron recovers his expression quickly, and gives you a tense smile. “You should go, now. It’s been a long day for you.”

After breakfast, Chiron called a council meeting. You and Percy headed down together, chatting about what it could be. A distraction, obviously—you both knew what it would be about. You met up with everyone in the training arena, compared to the usual meeting at the ping pong table. Mrs O’Leary chewed on a giant dog toy, bounding around the arena as you discussed the fate of everything.

Juniper the tree nymph accompanied Grover, Travis and Connor sat beside each other, Charles Beckendorf and Silena, and Lee Fletcher, a son of Apollo. Quintus and Chiron, by the sword racks, led the meeting at first, passing over to Clarisse and Beckendorf for input.

Finally, they turned it on you. Clarisse, addressing you properly for the first time, demanded your thoughts. “What do you think about this?”

You inhaled, sitting up straighter on the bench. All eyes turn to you, listening intently. “I think Luke knows about the entrance to the Labyrinth, and he’s probably known for a while. Think back years ago to when Percy was poisoned; the monster came out of nowhere, and so did Luke. The maze moves—maybe he lost it for a while, hasn’t used it since. But he’s definitely trying to get back inside camp, now, using the maze. He was here longer than anyone, wasn’t he? He probably knows it like the back of his hand.”

“The cave entrance has been there a long time. Luke used to use it.”

You raise an unimpressed brow to Juniper. “You knew about this? And haven’t said anything?!”

Juniper’s youthful face turned green in embarrassment. “I didn’t know it was important. Just a yucky old cave.”

You see Chiron rub his hand over his forehead in stress, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing—Luke’s been doing this under his nose for years it sounds like.

“She has good taste,” Grover defends.

“I wouldn’t have paid any attention, except…it was Luke,” she blushes further. You wave your hand in her direction, somewhat agreeing. Luke might have been good-looking, but he’s still a psycho.

Grover huffs. “Forget what I said about good taste.”

Quintus polished his sword as he spoke. “Interesting. And you believe this young man, Luke, would use the Labyrinth as an invasion route?” He raised his eyes to you.

“Definitely,” Clarisse came to your defence. “If he could get an army of monsters inside Camp Half-Blood, just have ‘em pop up in the middle of the woods without having to worry about the camp’s boundaries, we don’t stand a chance. He could wipe the place out easy. Probably been planning it for a while. He’s been sending scouts into the maze. We found one. You know…”

“Chris Rodriguez,” you mumble.

“Ah, the one in the…”

“The one in the what?” Asks Percy.

Clarisse glared at him. “The point is, Luke has been searching for a way to navigate the maze. He’s looking for something.”

You don’t miss a beat. “Probably Daedalus’s workshop.”

Percy shifted beside you. “The guy who created the maze.”

You hum in response. “He’s considered the greatest architect of all time. If the legends are actually true, his workshop should be in the centre of the maze. Except…the maze always changes so…where’s the centre meant to be. If Luke managed to find it, he could easily convince Daedalus to help him navigate his own creation.”

“The thing is,” adds Clarisse. “He wouldn’t have to stumble around watching for people or traps. He could navigate and go anywhere he wants safely. First to Camp, and then—well, Olympus.”

The arena turned very silent. Mrs O’Leary even grew quiet. Beckendorf straightened up on the bench, running a strong over his face. “Hold up. You said convince Daedalus. I thought Luke was—kicked off a cliff? Isn’t Daedalus dead? Shouldn’t Luke, in theory, be very dead?”

Your jaw drops. How stupid can you be? You chide yourself, looking at Chiron for some guidance. He’s watching you too, but doesn’t offer any sort of help.

“In theory, they both should be dead. Extremely, extremely dead. Uh—but Luke is not. Definitely not. And Daedalus…well, nobody really knows. People have said that towards the end of his life, he went down into his maze and stayed there. Others have said different. There are a lot of uh, disturbing rumours, stories. But long story short, he might still be down there.”

You’re aware of Travis staring at you from the other side, but you can’t bring yourself to look. You’ve barely spoke to him thus far, for being so caught up in everything. “We have to go into the maze. We have to find this workshop before Luke does. If Daedalus is alive, we can convince him to help us, not Luke. If, for some miracle Ariadne’s string still exists too, we make sure it doesn’t fall into Luke’s hands.”

“Why don’t we just blow up the maze?” Came Percy. “Block Luke off from the outside?”

You give him a gentle look. “Clarisse tried. The maze just moved.”

“It’s not so easy, stupid,” Clarisse snapped. “We tried in Phoenix. The best thing to do is to stop Luke from navigating it. Which means, we get down there first.”

“We could fight,” Lee said. “We know where the entrance is now. We can set up a line of defence and wait for the army to come through. We’ll be ready, waiting.”

“We will certainly set up a defence,” agrees Chiron. “But Clarisse is right. The best thing to do is for our side to move first. If they come through here…we won’t have enough to defeat them.”

You stand. “We have to get to Daedalus’s workshop first, then. Find Ariadne’s string, stop Luke from getting it.”

“But if nobody can navigate it,” Percy reached for your elbow, getting your attention. “What chance do we have down there?”

“I’ve been reading about it. I know more than we did before. We’ll be fine.”

“From reading about it?”

You clenched your teeth. “Yes.”

“That’s not gonna be enough.”

“It’s gonna have to be.”

“It isn’t!”

“Are you gonna help me or not?” You exclaim. You’re suddenly aware of everyone watching, listening to you argue. Mrs O’Leary violently ripped the head off her toy—EEEEEK.

Chiron cleared his throat. “First thing’s first. We need a quest.” Your heart stopped. “Someone must enter the Labyrinth, find the workshop of Daedalus, and prevent Luke from using the maze to invade.”

“Well,” Clarisse waved a hand in your direction. “We all know who should lead this. She’s got my vote.”

Much to your surprise, there was a murmur of agreement. Under the watchful eyes, you shift on your feet, hip to hip, uncomfortable, edging back to near Percy. “But you’ve done loads for this, too. You should be a part of it.”

Clarisse shook her head. “I’m not going back in there.”

Travis barked a laugh. “Chicken, Clarisse? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

She got to her feet, cheeks aflame, and visibly shaking. She pointed in Travis’s face. “You don’t understand anything, you hear me? I’m never going in there again.” She stormed out of the arena.

Travis sheepishly voiced, “I didn’t mean to—”

Chiron raised his hand. “The poor girl has had a difficult time. Now, do we all agree who should lead this quest?” Everyone nodded, every hand went up. You scarcely believed your eyes. Travis offered you a tiny hint of a smile, albeit a nervous one. Chiron, at last, turned to you directly. “Very well. My dear, it’s time you visit the Oracle. Assuming you return to us in one whole piece, we will discuss what will happen next.”

You’ve been up in the attic before. You spent the whole month before the summer break trying to get the mummy to talk to you. You don’t stop to offer assistance to Clarisse in calming down a frantic Chris in the basement, crying his heart out. Instead, you place your hand on the banister and trail up the four flights, to the attic where the Oracle sits waiting. You wind up the narrow set all the way to the top, an attic full of relics of years passed from heroes who passed through the same walls.

You walk slowly over the dusty floorboards, to the window behind the Oracle, and you watch for a little while the figures in the distant training arena, one figure in particular pacing nervously. Percy, pacing up and down the arena. You absentmindedly pull on the ends of your hair, before moving back and turning to the mummified girl, who seems to know what you want before you open your mouth. The room grew darker, and dark green fog spilled from the Oracle’s mouth. She came to life in a way you’ve seen only once before, this time just as scary as the last when she’d wandered out of the house. Her eyes open, dark, broken holes, and she spills the prophecy you’ve waited so long for.

You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze,

The Traitor, the Dead and the Lost one raise.

You shall rise or fall by the Ghost King’s hand,

The child of Athena’s final stand.

Destroy with a hero’s final breath,

And may lose a love to worse than death.

Cheery.

You want to grab the nearest baseball bat and scream. The child of Athena’s final stand? Worse than death? Why, oh why, did nothing work out for you? Frustrated tears burn your eyes. You’re unable to stop them, a sudden fear at your line, undoubtedly. You find yourself lowering to the floor, where you sit for a while, trying to think. You can’t make anything positive out of this one. Somewhere downstairs, the floorboards creak, and you jump to your feet, dust scattering in the air. You wipe your hands across your cheeks ridding them of tears and give yourself a minute to calm down before you tear out of the attic, back down to the arena. You must look a little out of touch, or something.

“My dear,” Chiron says. “You made it!”

You find your spot next to Percy on the bench, collapsing heavily and stare at the floor.

“Well?” Asked Quintus.

Turning your head ever so, you look at your best friend, who sits wide-eyed and waiting for you to say anything. “I got the prophecy. So…I’ll lead the quest to find Daedalus’s workshop.”

Chiron scraped a hoof against the floor. “What exactly did the prophecy say, my dear? The wording is important.”

Taking a deep breath, “Uh…well—it said you shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze…the dead, the traitor and the lost one raise—”

Grover perked up. “That’s Pan!” He proclaimed. “It has to be!”

“With the dead and traitor,” Percy, ankle touched yours. “Not so much.” I’m here, his touch said. I’m listening.

“And? What is the rest?”

“You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand, the child of Athena’s final stand.”

The murmur of excitement dropped. Everyone looked uncomfortable. Because you are the daughter of Athena attending.

“Hey, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions!” Silena urged sweetly. “You’re not the only child of Athena, it could be anybody!”

“But who’s this ghost king?” Beckendorf asked.

You had your suspicions, alright.

“Are there more lines?” Asked Chiron. “It doesn’t sound complete.”

That’s because it’s not. “Um, something about destroy with a hero’s final breath.”

“And?”

Feeling suddenly tired, you stand to make your point. “Look, I have to go in. I’ll find the workshop and I’ll stop Luke. I need help, though…” He must have expected it. Was that not why he was pacing, earlier? Percy’s bright eyes did not waver, set on your own. “Will you help me?” The last line worried you, but doing this without Percy worried you more. You didn’t think you could do it without him.

He didn’t even hesitate. “I’m in.”

You smiled. “And Grover. You, too. You need to find Pan, and we’ll need your help.”

“I’ll pack extra recyclables for snacks!”

“Two companions,” assured Chiron. “Are you sure on your final choice?”

You nod. You want to take Annabeth, too, but you’re not risking more than three ever again. Not this time. Not when the prophecy talks of a child of Athena’s last stand. You won’t do it to her. “Mhm.”

“Very well. Let us adjourn. The members of the quest must prepare themselves. Tomorrow at dawn, you will enter the Labyrinth.”

You tried not to cry again, you really did. But the lines were going round and round in your head, and the sudden hurry to go make a new weapon was nagging, and you couldn’t find your spare flashlight, and packing your things made you doubt you could do this. Which was why when he called out from the doorway, you melted. You paused looking through the wall of books for anything that could help you along the way.

“Knock knock?” He tapped on wood.

You turn to him, putting down the books on the side. “Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you.”

“You okay?”

“Just trying to do some more research, find something useful. Just in case. But, uh, nothing can seem to agree on anything. So…yeah. I know a bit but I just feel like we need more.”

He closed the door with a small thud, coming closer. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry so much.”

It’s all you ever do. Does he know you’re always on high-alert? Does he know you’re overthinking?

You shift on your hip, rubbing your hand over your arm. “I wanted this so badly.”

Percy’s bright green eyes keep you balanced, and he smiles reassuringly. “I know. You’re gonna do great.”

You’re so grateful to him. “I’m just worried I’ve made the wrong decision. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. Or Grover.”

“Hey, we’re your friends. We trust you. We wouldn’t want to miss this.”

You shakily exhale, throat closing up. Uh oh. “It’s just…” you almost gag as the words get stuck. Percy’s smile fades, replaced with a concerned frown.

“What is it? Is it the prophecy?”

You gulp. “I’m sure it’s fine,” you utter quietly.

“What was the last line?”

You squeeze your eyes shut before the tears can hurt anymore, and without any thought, you hold your arms out to him. And he comes right to you, just holding you. He’s warm and a solid figure in a shaky world. Percy’s hand awkwardly pats your back, and you can’t help the way you squeeze your arms around him.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “It’s—it’s okay.”

You’re shivering. He smells soapy, and cotton fresh, yet distinctly boyish. You shove your face into his shoulder and hope he doesn’t feel the tears soak in his shirt.

“It sounds weird,” you muffle into his shirt. “But I know this is right. I need you and Grover with me. It feels right.”

“Then don’t worry about it,” he sighs. “We’ve had plenty of problems before and we solved them all, right? We can do it this time too.”

“This is different. I don’t want anything happening to you.” You slip up. “Or to Grover. Or me.”

“Try not to worry so much,” he pats your back a final time. “We’re gonna be alright. We’ve got each other.”

When you finally part, Percy avoids your gaze, trailing his fingers across the maps laid out across the table you stand beside. “About your prophecy…the line about a hero’s last breath—”

You wipe your nose. “You want to know which one of us. I don’t know, Percy.”

“No, something else. You didn’t give us the last line, earlier. Hero’s breath should rhyme with the last line. Was it something like—did it end in death?”

You stare with hot eyes at the book on the table. “You should go, Percy. Pack your things. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He stands quietly for a moment, before putting his hands in his pockets. “Okay,” he says. “Just…try to sleep. See you tomorrow.” And he leaves you standing there to think about what you’ve done.

It’s easier said than done. You manage archery that afternoon, and news spreads pretty quickly of what’s coming tomorrow. Annabeth brings you back some food from dinner, and helps you pack your bag. Your siblings wish you good luck, Malcolm saying he’ll pray for you. Annabeth provides you with an extra flashlight, and then Clarissa, which makes three. You don’t know how long you’ll be down there, she says. It makes your stomach churn even more. You set out your outfit for tomorrow and pack a good few. The brief time in the maze the other evening was cold, so you lay out a pair of jeans, a tee and a jacket.

You lay in bed that night and raise your hand to pull back the curtain above your head, watching the stars. It might be the last time you ever see them.

When morning comes, you find yourself gearing up to go, after breakfast, backpack over your shoulders, accompanied by Annabeth past the cabins and into the woods, where the entrance last was. People had set up tents and would take it in turns to watch over the entrance, should anyone come through. Percy and Grover already stood waiting when you turned up, Chiron and Quintus standing with terse smiles.

“Good morning!” Chiron tried to be upbeat, but you couldn’t help the nerves. You couldn’t even smile. “You’re all here, at last.”

You want to tell him you’re shaking to your very core with nerves. You don’t.

“Take care,” Chiron offered. “And good hunting.”

“You too,” Percy nodded.

You follow after Percy and, after a few brief words from Chiron, a goodbye from your friends, and a last look at the woodlands, you find yourself facing the darkness.

“Goodbye sunshine,” said Grover miserably. You trudged forward after Percy, dropping down into the eery space that was the uninviting maze. “Hello rocks…”

It’s not unfamiliar in feel, only in…sight. Where the walls were brick last time, and cool to the touch, they’ve changed to smooth stone, dewy and threaded with hanging vines. Under your feet, tough ropes of them tangle and lead down the pathway.

Beside you, Percy breathes out slowly. You hear Grover’s teeth chattering, and your flashlight provides a good look at your billowing breath in the cold hall. You’ve inside, now, fully—the opening above has disappeared, closed up, and your friends are gone. You’re alone in here, the three of you, and already the claustrophobia is suffocating.

“Alright,” you start, sounding more positive than you feel. “Anyone have any suggestions, first, or can I just lead the way?”

“Lead the way!” Grover prompted. “Because I haven’t any idea what we’re doing.”

“That’s lovely, Grover, thank you for that.” You take the first step in the darkness, voice echoing. You shine your flashlight around, doing a quick circle of your surroundings.

“Oh, damn, it’s like something from a horror movie.”

“And thank you for that, Percy,” you smile sardonically. “Keep your eyes peeled for any clues.”

“This isn’t the crystal maze,” he laughs.

“I think I’ll give you over to the monsters personally.”

You really tried to keep your place in the maze. Left, left, straight on, down the slope, left again…you only got about a hundred or so metres before you were hopelessly, completely lost. Nothing looked at all as it had last time, as if you’d entered a completely different part of the maze. You backtracked following your memorised turnings, but stopped at a dead-end; the maze had changed completely in such a short amount of time. It was scary, and you could feel anxiety threatening to swallow you up, suffocating with every turn. Because not only were you terribly lost with a jittery Grover humming a tune every five minutes, but you’d forgotten about the threat of monsters around every corner, and the possibility of getting split up down here.

“So, new idea,” you voiced. The three of you stopped for rehydration, the tunnel growing warmer the further you walked. “I say we stick to the left wall. That way we aren’t getting split up, and we’re not losing contact with the wall itself, so it cant physically change.”

Percy nodded, raising his hand to your head and dunking you in light spirits. “Good idea.” He quickly lost his sense of humour when, shortly after voicing the brilliant idea, the left wall literally fell away, the bricks disappearing as if they were never there. “Well then.”

You kept walking the long hallway, changing from that of a metal container to a red-brick chamber, with holes in the ground every few steps. It was like playing a dangerous game of hopscotch, except you really didn’t want to relax. At the end of it you entered a round room, with eight different tunnels open and looming branching off the main circle you found yourselves in. Behind you, you watched with your own eyes as the entrance changed from red brick to yellowing, floral wallpaper and rotting wainscoting groaning quietly. Queasiness irritated you. You ran your hands through your hair with a stressful sigh.

“Which way did we even come in?” Grover hummed uneasily.

“Just go back. Turn around the way we came.”

Except, now it had changed, everything blended into one, a huge confusing mess, and nobody could decide on what to do or where to go. You swept your flashlight over the eight tunnel archways, like train tunnels, but none of them offered any differences…at first glance, anyway. Finally, you closed your eyes and stopped the flashlight—opening your eyes, you’d stopped the light on the left-middle tunnel. “That one.”

Percy entered your line of sight, looking unsure. “How can you be so sure?”

You shrugged. “Deductive reasoning.”

He gagged on a laugh. “So you’re guessing?”

Readjusting your backpack, you nodded to the tunnel and took off. “Just come on.”

You’d never do anything by chance again. The tunnel soon got so low and cramped that the concrete walls pressed against your shoulders your hips, bent over and trying not to hyperventilate. Unfortunately, Grover wasn’t doing the same thing. His erratic breathing happened to be the loudest thing in the tunnel.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” he whispered. “Are we nearly there yet?”

You had to admit that you were getting fed up with it as well. Percy remained quiet and composed—once, he smacked his head on the ceiling and bit back a series of words.

“We’ve been down here, like, five minutes,” you offered. “Calm down.”

“Why would Pan even be down here anyway?” He rambled. “I mean, look how dark it is! This is disgusting. What does the god of nature want with a place this dank? This is the opposite of wild!”

Just when the tunnel became so narrow you were about to call it quits, it spilled open into a huge room full of old mosaic tiles in golds, reds and blues, like something from an old Greek book in the Big House. And it was Greek—upon closer inspection with the tiles closest to you, they showed a myriad of images of the gods: Aphrodite in a white chiffon, all done up pretty; your mother in battle, wearing all gold; Ares in feast, at a table drinking dark wine. You leaned in closer, running your fingertip along the pictures.

“This is beautiful.” You straightened up. The ceiling, though dirty and dark, glittered in gold and silver, and an ornate three-tier fountain sat empty in the middle of the room.

“What is this place?” Asked Percy, tilting his head back to look up. “Ancient Greek?”

“Looks like it. Kinda reminds me of Olympus, the last time we were up there.”

“Before you guys came to camp,” Grover joined you, looking around. “We went up to Olympus in winter, before the solstice. Only the grounds but…it was amazing. Looked a lot like this.”

“How can it be here, though?” Asked Percy, “it’s so…out of the blue.”

“The labyrinth is like a patchwork blanket. It grows itself, decorates itself—it doesn’t end.”

“You’re making it sound like it’s alive.”

“It basically is, Percy. Look around.”

“Can we stop talking about it being alive, please?” Begged Grover. A groaning noise came from the tunnel before you. “Oh no,” he moaned.

“Alright,” you said, “onward.”

“Down that way with the noise?” Grover grimaced.

“Exactly that way. Things are looking older so…maybe that’s the way to Daedalus’s workshop. Since he’s old and…whatever. Shouldn’t the workshop be in the oldest part of the maze?”

Logically, it made sense. Literally, it didn’t. The maze didn’t abide by any rules of thumb. The maze soon went back to playing with you (and your sanity) as it turned into modern caves decorated in spray paint, and then a restaurant-esque room full of gleaming mirrors. Every few feet, the maze changed, the tunnels shifted, and the floor beneath your feet turned from cement to metal and back to cement again. Through a wine cellar Dionysus would adore and out into a basement, you were slowly losing your mind. It didn’t matter how much you backtracked or memorised, the maze just didn’t care, and kept changing, changing, changing. At one point, standing in a wooden warehouse, you could have sworn you heard voices on the floor above, but then again, you’d been down here for far too long.

The first skeleton you found appeared far too quickly for your liking.

“Oh, man!” You waved a hand in its direction. “Should we consider this a marker? We’re so far into the maze we’ve got dead bodies?”

Grover gagged. “Milkman!”

“What?”

“A milkman,” he reiterated. “They used to deliver milk.”

“Thank you, Mister. Obvious,” Percy smirked. “But that was like…a million years ago. What’s he doing down here?”

You shrug. “Some people just wander in and get lost. Like us, I guess. Some probably come exploring on purpose and never make it back. In fact, like a bazillion years ago the Cretans sent people in here as sacrifices.”

Grover gulped. “He’s been down here a loooong time.” The skeleton’s hands were frozen clawing at the wall, like he’d died being dragged. “And it smells of monsters down here, too.”

“Well, they’re probably everywhere down here.”

“Yeah…sure smells close, though.”

“We can’t just abandon ship, guys,” you try, “we need to head deeper into the maze. There’s definitely a way to the centre, we’re just going about it the wrong way.”

Percy cleared his throat, prompting your attention. “Maybe there isn’t a right way,” he suggested with a shrug. “I mean, it is a maze, and you said it’s always changing. Maybe the workshop moves with it?”

You hum, and try hard not to think that he might be right. “Nah. We’ll find it. We’re close to something; I can feel it.”

You could, in actual fact, feel the upcoming challenge the way your demigodly instincts always helped you to, like a weird feeling up your spine, a lingering over your shoulders. Your stomach was tightening just as you crawled through a metal air shaft, and came out���

In the tile room. Again.

Getting to your feet with a groan, aching from the constant ducking and diving, you almost yelled in anger.

“We’re just going ‘round in circles!” You yelled and span in one to get your point across. Percy came up after you, casually at first, and then Grover. Percy paled. Grover shrieked.

Spinning on your heels, you weren’t the only ones in this room anymore. You screamed, scrambling to shove yourself behind Percy, back-to-back. You fumbled around for your dagger.

A Greek hero, or what was left of him, sat at the fountain. He wore old armour, bronze and gold, only it was rusted with something you didn’t want to think about. His gold-blond hair lay messed and thick, like he couldn’t stop pulling on it. He lacked an eye, a wound, and looked like he’d been in agony for a very long time. The stuff of nightmares, honestly. A Greek horror.

The personification of struggle.

Percy stiffened at your back. His hand raised and caught your forearm, fingers tight around you, shaking.

“Come on!” A voice like honey drawled, though it was thick with sadness and triumph together. “You guys…what are you doing? You’re going through wrong way, you know. Turn back.”

You couldn’t turn back. You’d already made that mistake. He was trying to confuse you, that’s all. His voice grew louder and more aggressive, more persuasive, and got closer. You tried to block him out, and slow your heart rate. In your mind, you thought of all the songs you loved, humming the lyrics.

“Hey!” You heard Percy. “Leave her alone. Leave us alone.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Riptide was drawn. You really hoped you didn’t have to fight this guy. Though he was obviously an old spirit, or an old and minor god, you didn’t doubt he was powerful. Being down here was a nightmare enough without having to fight.

“Poor thing,” he drawled, like you would a hurt puppy. “Weak, bitter. But persistent. Only hurt lies ahead, you know? You can turn around, now,” he called your name. Percy’s fingers danced along your arm, a distraction. Being under fire made your skin crawl, and the aggression in the hero’s tone had brought on an anxious stomach ache.

Percy raised Riptide. Just when you thought you were done for, a scalding light filled the room, like a floodlight had suddenly appeared. Your heart skipped way too many beats; Grover raised his hand to shield his eyes. When the light died off, you kept your eyes shut.

“Are you causing trouble for these heroes?” A woman’s voice called into the terrible scene. You slowly unclenched your jaw, opened your eyes slowly, and shifted to peek around Percy’s shoulder, ever so slightly inching so you didn’t see the bloodied Greek. She stood tall and proud, beautiful brown curls the colour of chocolate dancing down her spine in a long braid threaded with gold ribbon. The plain, white dress she wore turned to rainbow when she moved, and you thought of oil on a river, the way it moves under sunlight, shimmering. Her milky skin was flawless, and you had the sudden feeling that you knew this woman, somehow.

His voice, mellowed now, shook. “No, milady!”

Liar. You exhaled shakily.

“I see,” she crooned. “Well, you’ll let them be on their way then, yes? You’ll leave them be, from now on? Leave these heroes to me. You’re creating unease.”

The woman turned to face you, Grover and Percy, and made direct eye contact with you first. She smiled, and it was like taking a chill pill, a strange and sleepy calm that washed over you. Whether the boys felt it too, you couldn’t say, but you were glad of it. The anxiety fell away, your heart slowed, and you became aware of the grip you had taken on Percy’s jacket, at the base of his spine, scrunched between your fingers.

“You must be hungry,” she nodded. “Come. Sit with me, let’s talk.” She waved a perfect hand, and the room came to life. Candelabra chandeliers lit in warm yellow, and the dirt fell away from the room. The fountain sprung to life, trickling water, and a pretty table and chairs set appeared waiting, the length of the table filled to the brim with sweet sandwiches cut in small triangles, and tiny plates holding delicately decorated chocolates.

You didn’t realise you’d gotten so hungry. How long hadn’t you eaten for? Time passed so different here, it could have been a whole day, or two. Grover got right to pouring the lemonade, adorned with fresh strawberries, gulping it down like he’d never taken a sip of it before. Understandable, in your eyes.

Gradually, you unclenched your stiff fingers from Percy’s jacket, hand falling away. “Who are you?” He asked, approaching the table.

You didn’t sit like the boys, but instead reached for a sandwich, and then another, and another, and another. Standing opposite each other, you blinked as she spoke with pretty, gentle eyes.

“I am Hera,” she smiled. “Queen of Heaven.”

Ah. That’d be the familiarity, then. Godly hierarchy. You didn’t feel unnerved up close to her, but so much more relaxed than before. She took the pitcher of lemonade from your still-shaking hands with the gentleness of a mother, and you didn’t even stop her from pouring you a glass. You thanked her quietly, and she reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked, lacking formality. Hera hummed softly, before snapping her fingers out of the blue. Instantly, you got cleaned up—your hair fixed itself without effort, feeling cleaner and less sweaty, tied back in a low bun. The dirt abandoned your clothes. The sweat and dirt cleaned off of your face.

“I came to see you, naturally,” she replied. The boys at the table shared a look.

You frown heavily. “I thought—I didn’t think you really liked heroes. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

Something changed about her, but you struggled to place it. She waved a perfect hand. “Oh, water under the bridge! Because of the little…spat, with Hercules? Goodness, so long ago. I had so much bad press because of one little argument!”

You wouldn’t call attempted murder an argument, but hey-ho. You can’t stop the words flowing out of your mouth. “Didn’t you try to kill him, though?”

Hera laughed, though it wasn’t funny at all. She flicked an imaginary piece of dust from her dress. “Oh, dear, no. Greek myths, am I right? Hercules was my husband’s son by another woman; my patience ran thin, I’ll admit. But Zeus and I have come out the other side, we have an understanding. Especially since that last incident.”

Percy choked on his sandwich, red in the cheeks. You bug-eyed him, a warning. Hera dropped her hand from your hair where she’d been, dare you say it, admiring you. It wasn’t uncommon—your family’s friends and even strangers commented on your luckiness. You wanted to call it more of a curse.

“You mean when Thalia came into the picture?” Percy just couldn’t help himself. Hera’s eyes turned frostily on him.

“Ah, Percy Jackson, isn’t it? One of Poseidon’s…children. As I recall, I voted to let you live at the Winter Solstice. I hope I chose correctly.”

She turned away, like Percy wasn’t worth her time, and her eyes shone like she’d hit diamonds on you. It wouldn’t be a good idea to shy away from a goddess, any of them, never mind Hera, so though you didn’t particularly like the attention or extra care that she wasn’t providing the boys, you didn’t move away. Who knew what dire consequences she’d send your way? Grover spied you looks every few seconds, like making sure you were alright.

A sunny smile plagued her. “Anyway, I bear you no ill will, my girl. I appreciate the difficulty of your quest. Especially when you have old Greek troublemakers to deal with. Brave girl.” Brave, though you hid like a child.

“Why was he here?” You shoved a chocolate in your mouth. “I felt like I was dying.”

“Hmm, he likes to do that. The minor gods…they enjoy causing trouble, scaring young heroes. The minor gods, you three must understand, have always despised the very small roles they play. Some I fear have little love for our Olympus, and can easily be swayed to support the rise of my father.”

Kronos. Luke’s new best friend.

“We have to watch the minor gods. They give lip to Olympus, and yet—”

“That’s where Dionysus went!” Exclaimed Percy. “He was checking on the minor gods.”

“Indeed.” Hera stared at the fountain. “You see, in times of trouble such as these, even gods lose faith. They put their trust in the wrong things. Petty things, should I say. They stop looking at the bigger picture and turn selfish. But I’m the goddess of marriage; I’m into persistence and perseverance. You have to rise above the arguing and chaos. You have to keep your goals in mind, demigods.” Spoken like a proud soccer mom.

“What are your goals?”

“To keep my family together, of course! The Olympians. Right now, the best way to do that is by helping you—the ringleader of the quest! Zeus does not allow me to interfere too much I’m afraid, but once every century or so for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish.”

Like something from a Disney movie. You’re Cinderella, and she’s the fairy godmother.

“A wish?”

“Before you ask it, darling, let me give you some advice. I know you seek Daedalus. His labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you! But if you wish to know his fate, you should visit my son at his forge. Daedalus was a brilliant inventor, there has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would know about Daedalus’s whereabouts, it’s Hephaestus.”

You consider this carefully. For anything, you could wish anything at all. But…

“How do we get there, then?” You ask. “That’s what I wish for. I want a way to navigate this maze.”

Hera’s shoulders drooped, and she looked disappointed. “So be it. But you ask for something that has already been given, I’m afraid.”

You blanch. “Huh?”

“The means is already within your grasp!” She spared a look over her shoulder…at Percy. “With him. Percy knows the answer.”

This time, you run cold. Unimpressed, you offer another, “What?” Percy sits up straighter in his seat, fumbling like a fish out of water.

“I do?” He panics.

“But you’re not telling us what it is,” you pry, being careful. “That’s not fair.”

Hera shook her head of pretty hair. “Getting something and having the wits to use it are two different things, darling. I’m sure your mother would agree.”

The floor vibrated as thunder rumbled from high above, reverberating all the way through. “That would be my cue,” Hera beamed. “Zeus is very impatient. Think on what I have told you,” she aimed at you, “locate Hephaestus, and the rest is smooth sailing! You’ll have to pass through the ranch I think, but don’t stop, and use all the means at your disposal…however common they seem.”

She pointed across the room, where two doors had appeared. They flung open, revealing two dark corridors.

“And one last thing,” she clasped her hands together. “Try not to run into any more troublemakers. The minor gods are unlikely to give you an easy time, and, well, I won’t be back. Farewell, my heroes. And good hunting, as they say!”

She waved a hand, and turned into a puff of white smoke. The food and the table disappeared, Grover and Percy falling off of imaginary chairs. The fountain stopped running, the walls turned grimy, and the room became dark again.

All that aside, you were pretty mad.

“What sort of help?…”

“Well,” said Grover. “She said Percy knows the way. That’s something at least.”

You round on your friend, whose cheeks are pink. “But I don’t!” He protests. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. Honest.”

You sigh deeply. “Alright. Whatever. Which way now, then?”

“Left,” said Grover, getting to his feet and hurrying along to the entry. “Because I hear something big coming from the right.”

Percy caught your wrist in his hand. “Left sounds good. I vote left.”

Together, you disappeared into the dark corridor.

AYO what do we think of this one then? Honestly I got a bit stuck, but I think it turned out alright. I had to replace Janus with my imagination (though after the day I’ve had it’s LACKING) because he creepy fucker scares me as much as the cat in the hat does.

taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx

@rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress

@distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky

@emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @tojismassivemantiddies

@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @i-love-books-and-the-bible @obxstiles @mxltifxnd0m

[multifamdomfan]

Could we possibly get some appreciation for Frank Zhang's muscles?

Absolutely! I've actually thought about this a lot and already wrote something about this but didn't publish it because I wasn't sure if anyone cares but I'll post it now.

The Frank Zhang Pull-Up Bar

Hazel had always known Frank was strong. She had seen him fight off monsters, lead an army, and, on more than one occasion, lift her like she weighed nothing at all. But lately, his strength had reached new levels. His Roman training had turned him into an absolute tank, and Hazel was not subtle about how much she admired it.

Percy, being Percy, was the first to call her out on it.

"You keep staring," he teased as they stood in the training yard of Camp Jupiter, watching Frank practice with his bow.

Hazel blinked, pretending she hadn't just been admiring the way Frank's arms flexed as he pulled back the string. "I do not."

"You so do," Percy said. "And honestly? I get it. I mean, look at those things. The guy could probably bench-press a centaur at this point."

Frank, oblivious to their conversation, had just finished his round of archery practice when Percy called out, "Hey, Zhang! How much weight do you think you can hold?"

Frank turned, frowning. "Uh. I don't know? Why?"

Hazel suddenly had a brilliant idea. "I bet you could hold both of us."

Frank looked startled. "Hold you how?"

Percy grinned. "Like a pull-up bar."

Frank blinked. "You want to—what?"

"You've got huge arms," Hazel said matter-of-factly. "We could totally do pull-ups on them."

Frank's face turned red. "That—that's not how arms work!"

Percy, ignoring him, had already moved into position. "C'mon, Zhang, don't be shy. Just hold them out like this—" He raised his own arms to demonstrate. "We'll grab on and see if we can do a couple of pull-ups. Easy."

Hazel clasped her hands together. "Please, Frank?"

Frank sighed, knowing there was no winning when Hazel looked at him like that. "Fine," he grumbled, extending both arms.

Hazel grabbed onto one. Percy took the other.

"Alright, on three," Percy said. "One, two—"

They both pulled up at the same time. To their surprise—and Frank’s—he barely wobbled.

Hazel let out a delighted laugh as she did a second pull-up. "Frank, you're amazing!"

"Yeah, dude," Percy said between breaths. "You're basically a living gym."

Frank, now fully red-faced, mumbled, "This is the weirdest compliment I've ever gotten."

Hazel, still hanging onto him, just smiled. "Get used to it, big guy."

Frank Zhang was used to being strong. He’d spent enough time training at Camp Jupiter to build muscle, and as a son of Mars, strength came with the territory. But he wasn’t used to people treating him like actual gym equipment.

And yet, here he was.

Percy and Hazel were hanging off of him like he was a pull-up bar, and worst of all? He was holding them up without even trying.

“This is ridiculous,” Frank muttered, though he didn’t actually put them down.

Hazel, still gripping his arm, beamed at him. “It’s impressive.”

Percy, hanging from Frank’s other arm, was grinning like an idiot. “Dude, you are literally the best workout equipment ever. We could start a whole new training regimen at Camp Jupiter. ‘Zhang-ercise.’”

Frank groaned. “You’re both insane.”

Hazel easily pulled herself up again, her braid swinging behind her. “Come on, Frank, just admit it—you’re ridiculously strong.”

Frank’s ears turned pink. “I mean, I guess—”

Percy tried to do another pull-up but wobbled slightly, adjusting his grip. “Okay, okay—serious question—if I shift my weight, can you still hold me?”

Before Frank could protest, Percy swung slightly to one side, putting all his weight on one arm. Frank, to his own surprise, barely felt it.

Hazel’s eyes widened. “Oh my gods, Frank! You’re not even shaking.”

“What is happening right now?” Frank muttered.

Percy cackled. “This is amazing. You’re, like, unmovable.”

Hazel, still clutching Frank’s arm, looked so proud of him that Frank felt like he might actually melt. “I always knew you were strong, but this?” She squeezed his bicep for emphasis. “This is next level.”

Frank, still holding them both like they weighed nothing, felt his entire face heat up. “I—uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’m just… glad you guys are having fun?”

Percy let go, dropping to the ground and shaking out his arms. “Okay, ten out of ten experience. I give ‘Frank Zhang, the Human Pull-Up Bar’ a perfect score.”

Hazel dropped down too, but instead of stepping back, she leaned up and kissed Frank on the cheek. “I give it eleven out of ten.”

Frank nearly forgot how to breathe.

Percy, watching this unfold, snickered. “Dude, your face is so red right now.”

Frank groaned and covered his face with his hands. “This is the worst.”

Hazel just laughed, slipping her hand into his. “No, Frank. You’re the best.”

[eddieisashifter]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 ☆⋆｡

I saw the game (found here) made by the lovely @withluvvenus and wanted to try it myself! I might do it again because I had so much fun! (also my liked songs on spotify is literally thousands so it was fun to find songs I forgot about!)

I. ☆⋆｡ vampire — olivia rodrigo

"I used to think I was smart, but you made me look so naive" . . . "you're so convincing, how do you lie without flinching?"

oh man, the first dr that pops into my head with this one is obviously my percy jackson dr. a lot of these lyrics are my thoughts towards luke post-betrayal. he was my mentor, I trusted him, saw him as a brother—and he not only betrayed us all, but he tried to kill me. it sort of set me off onto a revenge quest throughout the whole war with kronos

II. ☆⋆｡ no one must ever know — anthony warlow

"somehow I have to rebuild all the dreams that the winds have scattered, from what fate has shattered. I'll retrieve what mattered!"

okay, first of all, this musical literally slaps. jekyll and hyde my beloved. but, the dr that pops into my head with this song is my arcane dr. not quite the same, but it reminds me of how I struggle with my actions and choices after silco's death. but, then I get a burst of inspiration, remembering why I started this fight in the first place—the dream of zaun's independence.

III.☆⋆｡ i'm still standing — elton john

"and if you need to know while I'm still standing, you just fade away." . . . "pickin' up the pieces of my life without you on my mind."

obviously, this reminds me of my marauders dr. the vibe is immaculate, I love 70s music. but, it also is my mindset through most of my hogwarts years. I kind of have a nonchalant and unbothered demeanor, unruffled by most conflict or rumors. so, whenever people try to start stuff about my and my friends they know that I won't be shaken for a second by any of it.

IV. ☆⋆｡ welly boots — the amazing devil

"I know you're strong enough to do this on your own." . . . "how the fuck am I supposed to carry on without you here?"

oh I love this song so much and it, once again, reminds me of the period in my arcane dr where I'm coping with losing silco. I can imagine the lyrics of this song as his words to me as I take over his position as eye of zaun and ringleader of the rebellion against piltover.

V. ☆⋆｡ when he died — lemon demon

"when he died turns out he left a mansion full of other people's skulls. the odd thing is they never found his own, when he died."

literally love this song, and it reminds me of my sherlock dr. not because of something that happened there, but more so the vibe. this is the type of case that scotland yard would totally call us in for. I can already see sherlock poking around this dead guy's mansion muttering "how curious..." under his breath. he'd love this kind of puzzle. I also, unfortunately, could see my father setting it up.

VI. ☆⋆｡ transgender dysphoria blues — against me!

"rough surf on the coast I wish I could have spent the whole day alone with you" . . . "and you know it's obvious, but we can't choose how we're made."

this song could remind me of almost all of my drs, because I script myself as trans into almost every one. it's just part of who I am. but, specifically, this song reminds me of my spider-verse dr. not only because of the references to the coast and I'm very close to it, living in glasgow, but also the sound reminds me of my band, the mary janes.

VII. ☆⋆｡ primadonna — MARINA

"got you wrapped around my finger, babe. you can count on me to misbehave." . . . "I know I got a big ego, I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though."

oh this is such baddie energy that I hold in my percy jackson fame dr. everything about this reminds me of myself there and also my music. I am a bit of a drama queen, but I deserve my nepotism moment! also a boyfriend who adores me yesyes. bonus points of my associating this song with this dr is literally marina opening for me on one of my tours and we sing this song together.

VIII. ☆⋆｡ butchered tongue — hozier

"but feeling at home, hearin' a music that few still understand." . . . "in some town it just means 'home' to them, with no translator left to sound, a butchered tongue still singin' here above the ground."

oh I'm so glad I landed on this song. it's literally my favorite hozier song of all time, it makes me almost cry sometimes. it reminds me of all my drs, where I'm deeply connected to the culture I was born into, while here I didn't get that blessing. irish and scottish culture are deeply connected with each other, and while hozier is singing about ireland here, but I relate it to scotland—where our language is actively being killed. I'm literally so excited to shift and hear this language being spoken so freely, having survived persecution and colonization there. my gaidhlig mentor always would say "broken gaidhlig is better than no gaidhlig at all" and that's what I relate this song to. a language surviving, and me shifting to go home and hear it spoken like it should be.

[constitutionalweasleymonarchy]

LUCY: Friday

From the flash fic collection Days That End In Y

prompt: on a roof

.

“Lucy, you’re going to get in trouble!”

The faint sound of Molly’s urgent, exasperated warning had Percy on his feet in seconds and heading out to the garden.

The first thing he saw was his elder daughter with her hands on her hips, staring up at something above the house. Her eyes widened at his approach, and she cried up at the roof, “I told you! — Dad, I didn’t do it!”

“And what exactly did you not — Oh, good god!” he exclaimed when he followed Molly’s gaze up the high-pitched roof.

Lucy was sat at the very top, knees drawn up to her chest, face buried in her arms; but at her father’s voice she peeked up through round, cherry-red glasses.

“How did you — Don’t move!” he commanded, more sharply than he’d intended, drawing his wand.

Lucy hid her face again.

“I’m sorry!” she sobbed faintly from her perch.

“No — pumpkin, I’m not — ” He drew a breath. “Just stay calm, all right? Everything’s going to be fine.”

His heart was in his throat and he could actually feel his face having gone pale, but he needed to be the reliable one here.

Would a tumble down two storeys have harmed Lucy, being magical? It was somewhat unlikely — but not impossible. And Percy’s daughter was not going to be the subject of that experiment.

Neither was Percy foolish enough to attempt to Apparate on and off a steep slope. He was a wizard, not an acrobat.

“I need you to stay very still,” he instructed, raising his wand. “I’m going to lift you and float you right down — ”

“No!” she shrieked, her heels scrabbling against the roof in a panicked attempt to stabilise herself.

Percy’s stomach lurched.

“Lucy, don’t — ” Molly’s contribution was cut short as Percy raised a warning finger, his eyes never leaving Lucy.

“We are all going to remain calm,” he insisted, though he was anything but. “Lu, you don’t have to worry about a thing. It’ll be quite quick, and it’ll be like… it’ll feel like you’re sitting on a pillow, just floating down — ”

“No!!” she howled again. “I don’t want to, I can’t!”

“Well, darling, I have to get you down somehow.”

But Lucy had gone back to sobbing, shaking her head urgently and hugging her knees until she was scarcely more than a little brunette ball.

It felt like forever passed as Percy’s mind pitched and raced about what to do. In the end, though, there were really only two options: magick her down against her will and despite her terror, or…

“Fine,” he decided, “I’ll just come to you, then. Molly, if something happens, who do you Floo since Mum’s not home?”

“Nana and Grandad,” she recited.

“Good.”

He conjured a ladder, which he secured against the side of the house where it could reach the ridgeline of the roof. Then he pocketed his wand and began to climb, his eyes resolutely focused upwards, willing himself not to look down — not even when the ladder creaked, or the wind ruffled his hair, or his step faltered when he drew even with the first floor windows and he could feel the distance to the ground. At last he reached the pinnacle, where Lucy was sat a few yards along the ridge, and he extended his hand.

“Lu, do you think you can scoot, very carefully — ”

“No!”

“I’m just right here.”

Lucy whimpered.

“I promise you, there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

At that she gave him a heart-wrenchingly miserable look, her cheeks red and her breath shuddering with something more than terror. Then she took her little head in her hands and refused to look at him at all.

“Lu…?”

She hiccuped.

“Look at me, pumpkin.”

But she would not — and Percy was left with little choice but to clamber up onto the ridge and inch sideways until he was sitting right next to her, his elbows propped on his knees.

“I’m sorry,” she said tremulously.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I know it was an accident. I do wish you’d let me bring you down.”

Two fresh tears rolled down her round cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, wiping them away, though two more followed. “I don’t know why I’m not brave enough.”

Percy blinked for a stunned few seconds. “What makes you think that?”

“I know I’m too afraid.”

Percy’s mind blanked.

“I don’t think you are,” he ventured finally. “I think you’re just the right amount of frightened. And the right amount of brave. I think you’re the right amount of everything.”

“Then why am I the only one who gets scared?”

“The… the only one of whom?”

“Everyone.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Molly’s never afraid.”

Percy’s eyes flicked to Molly, who had sat down and was picking at blades of grass as she monitored this scene.

“Molly gets scared sometimes,” he replied in a low voice. “She just doesn’t like anyone to know.”

“You don’t.” She sniffled.

“I don’t what?”

“Get scared.”

“I promise you, I’m scared of a lot of things.”

“Like what?” she sulked in patent disbelief.

Failure. Decisions with no clear answer. Walking into a room where everyone was in on a joke except for him.

“Like… something bad happening to you,” was the answer he offered her. “Or your sister. Or your mum.”

Then he told her something he’d never really been able to convince himself of.

“It’s okay to be afraid.”

“But you said I shouldn’t.”

“When?” he asked in astonishment.

“Just now. When you said there’s nothing to be scared of.”

Percy was struck silent for a long moment, during which he and Lucy each contemplated their shoes. Then he tapped her knee, waiting until she looked over at him.

“That wasn’t very honest of me. It was… a poor way of trying to tell you that I won’t let anything happen to you. But you’re right, it is a bit scary up here.”

Lucy shrugged this off. “But I’m a witch.”

“And?”

“Witches aren’t scared of being up high! Molly isn’t. Molly flies higher than this. I hate flying.”

“I don’t care for flying,” he admitted. “Nor does your mum.

“So really,” he added with a gentle nudge, “Molly’s the odd one here.”

“I heard my name!” accused Molly from the ground, making Lucy giggle. “And what’s taking so long?”

Percy glanced at the sun hanging low in the sky.

“She’s right,” he said softly, stroking Lucy’s hair. “We probably should try to get down before it’s dark.”

“I know…” Leaning forward, Lucy peered down the slope of the roof, and then along the ridge to the ladder. “Which way?”

“Well, I promise you it’ll be much less frightening with magic. I could carry you down with me, but it’ll take longer. If you let me magick you down, you can just close your eyes exactly where you are now, and when you open them in five seconds you’ll be on the ground again.

“But you decide,” he added, taking her little hand. “I’ve got you either way.”

[pebblume]

guys i haven’t had time to write in weeks and it’s driving me INSANE. to help cope here are a bunch of percabeth fic ideas i have rattling around my brain that i may or may not get around to writing at some point

annabeth is assigned for cabin inspection and percy slept in (cue speed cleaning and attempted flattery and bribery to avoid punishment). this one is deeply unserious

since we didn’t get it in the show with the spider trap in the tunnel of love i’d love to write some other situation where annabeth gets scared by spiders and percy helps her through it and they talk about their fears 

ok ok. hear me out. pjo tv trio watching the lightning thief musical. i’m normally not into “characters watch their own media” type fics, but i think it could be fun to write while also allowing for some introspection! they’re just experiencing this weird uncanny valley where everything is familiar but it’s so different at the same time and also everyone is singing?? percy laughs at his own jokes of course and grover is a theatre kid so he’s nerding out and annabeth is confused (the only musical she’s ever seen is the wizard of oz) but entertained. i think it could be silly

lovesick au with an extra dose of angst. percy gets accidentally drugged with aphrodite’s love magic (and naturally annabeth is the first person he sees) so now she has to deal with a very clingy percy who's sweet and considerate and would do anything she asked but it's not her percy. like she wanted him to like her back but not like this ;-; happy ending tho obviously

hypervigilance and hyperfixation - annabeth has always had to be aware of her surroundings and never let her guard down (ptsd from her childhood and being a demigod), until this boy comes into her life and now all her attention zones in on him whenever he’s within a 50 yard radius. just a little drabble on all the little things you notice when you’re constantly aware of your crush and how even their annoying habits or flaws become hopelessly endearing

annabeth with glasses would be so cute?? (credit to @vicwritesfic for the idea!). basically just some percabeth moments told through glasses: annabeth first getting them and percy helping her feel comfortable with them when she gets self conscious, annabeth losing them in the lake and percy retrieving them, percy trying her glasses on because i think that’s a universal glasses wearer experience, percy finding her asleep at her desk with her glasses askew and taking them off gently, etc. etc. you get the idea

ok y’all know that saying that’s like “you know you like your crush when they get an awful haircut and they’re still attractive to you”? that’s it, that’s the fic. i’m thinking percy gets an unwilling haircut and he gets all embarrassed because his head is a fuzzy egg now, but annabeth still finds him cute because she's down catastrophically bad. he gets his curls back at the end tho don’t worry!

percy is cursed to be honest when he lies to a god and now he can’t stop telling annabeth how pretty her eyes are and how much he admires her; he can’t even use sarcasm - he’s defenseless! basically an excuse for me to torture percy and make him finally talk about his feelings

post tlt. annabeth ran away again after fighting with her father, but instead of going back to camp she goes to stay with the jackson’s (with the obligatory shows-up-on-their-doorstep-sopping-wet-and-pathetic scene and sally decides to adopt her immediately). it was supposed to be for a weekend, but percy convinces her to just stay until they have to go back to camp (about three weeks) and cute domestic shenanigans (and angst) ensue!

percy just got his driver's license after the titan war and takes annabeth for a ride to montauk to meet grover (she obviously has to tease him about the time he was 12 and crashed a car because he was too busy looking into her eyes). they sing along to their favorite songs and percy gets road rage and they stop for ice cream. basically a chance for them to be normal teens because they deserve it!

pen pal au where percy and annabeth write each other letters during the school year (takes place after tlt). just little moments in their lives told through letters and photos and mementos (sally insists on express mailing annabeth blue cookies after a fight with her parents ofc). it’s not the same as having each other there in person, but it helps with the distance. my way of coping with the hiatus between tlt and SoM ;-;

bi percabeth my beloved!! fic about percy’s bi awakening after reflecting on all his boy crushes (childhood friend, luke, beckendorf, etc). he comes out to annabeth after the war and they have this very touching moment where they talk and hug it out. then annabeth is like “oh also I like girls” “you couldn’t have led with that??” “i didn’t want to steal your moment!”

i've also been drafting out some percy pov chapters to my fics "i miss you like a little kid", "nothing's going to hurt you baby", and "punched in the gut (feels like being in love" so those are in the works!!

phew. and that's not even all of them (i think about them an unhealthy amount). i miss writing these two so much, but i won't really have a chance to breath from my school work until spring break so wish me luck ;-;

as always you can find my finished fics here :3

[masterj]

As the day wore on, the cool late-autumn weather drew across the island. As Edward puffed back into his station, he found it was empty, and there were no trains for a while.

"Good!" Said the driver, "Once we finish tidying the yard, we can have a good lunch break before we leave out again."

So after a great deal of shunting, they parked Edward in a siding, damped his fire, sheeted him snug with a large tarp like a cloak, and promised to be back as soon as they were done.

Edward, simmering nicely, was about to drift off for a snooze, when suddenly, he found he had some surprise visitors. A bird was perched on his buffer, and two squirrels and even a rabbit had clambered onto his footplate.

"Why hello there!" he greeted warmly. The little animals twittered as they nestled under the cloak and his warm boiler.

The old engine smiled. "Well, you lot are more than welcome to stay before I have to leave for my next train," he said, and so they did, as he rested peacefully.

@avaford2009 requested me to draw Edward wearing a hooded cape cloak, talking to some animal friends, rather unexpected for my first ask! After searching account for a bit more context, I figured it was to be Edward as a human, but I ultimately went with him as an engine as that was easier to work with, so my deepest apologies! As for the animals, I decided to go with the ones from the S15 episode, Percy's New Friends, not a good episode obviously, but I suppose it's a smidge more tolerable than other particular episodes from the likes of the Nitrogen era. Anyway, that's what got me a little more creative as I came up with the cute little snippet story, hopefully I can write longer stories and post them here at some point. Enjoy!

[the-zebra-dragon]

Cat Acclimation update day 1:

Crew Status:

Nyx: Free to move about the cabin.

Persephone: In the brig.

Yap: In the airlock.

Several months ago, we found a dumped cat on the grounds (front yard, specifically under the forsythia bush). We have since taken her in, providing meals and water and shelter, under the impression she would be staying outside and providing pest control (my mother does not know nor want to learn the downsides of outside cats. Believe me, I’ve tried. We’re lucky enough to have the two inside ones remain inside.)

In a twist of events, it turns out Yap is declawed.

While this raises serious questions about who dumped her (such as who are they, where do they live, and how fortified is their dwelling?) and other questions (how much is an aluminum baseball bat, again?), my parents have had a change of heart and decided Yap Must Become an Inside Cat. As much as my parents had to pivot hard, I saw this coming like a big red truck. Mom’s kind of a sucker for a little affectionate kitty.

Unfortunately, the two resident cats are… not exactly cat friendly. My black cat Nyx just about tolerates Persephone (the tortoiseshell), and Persephone pitches a tantrum whenever a neighbor’s cat shows up on the back deck. On one such occasion she actually became so frustrated she beat up Nyx, leading my mother to believe that Persephone is an aggressive little shit not going to accept Yap without a fight, which Yap has no defense against.

So. The plan, like I’ve been saying the whole time, is to introduce the animals incrementally. The house has an airlock door that’s mostly glass, so we put Yap in there. Persephone was placed in the sunroom for the duration (just in case) and Nyx was allowed to investigate Yap through the glass.

Nyx took one look at Yap, hissed, and ran all the way across the house. But she did circle back a minute later to look some more, with significantly less hissing. I heard no growling, aside from Persephone being very vocal about being tossed in Naughty Kitten Jail. Yap had no abnormal reactions to Nyx, and was eventually released back into the garage.

So basically this went about as well as expected. Both cats are having a big sniff of the airlock now, and perhaps tomorrow we’ll see what Percy thinks.

⬇️Nyx, wondering why she’s suddenly got a sense of Deja Vu. ⬇️

[hazel-of-sodor]

Something Holy This Way Comes

Ch.5 Cassandra

Other Stories

Other Chapters

Cassandra was soon shunted back into the shed alongside Tyto.

"I never got to thank you," Tyto said quietly.

"And you don't need to." She said firmly, "Even if it wasn't my Lady given duty, Scotsman did most of the work."

"He pulled them from the yard," Screech rumbled, "but you gave them a home."

Cassandra frowned, "would you ask to be thanked for pulling your trains to time? If you must thank someone for my role, thank The Lady."

"I see why they say you're more stubborn than Gordon." Ceri huffed with amusement.

Cassandra rolled her eyes.

Tyto suddenly laughed, "the inspector!"

Cassandra looked over, bemused, "come again?"

Tyto smirked, "That inspector you saved the other month. They were trying to catch you."

Cassandra snorted, "The only thing he was close to catching was the broadside of a truck. I asked Percy for a distraction..."

Ceri burst out into laughter, "You didn't..."

Cassandra sighed, sinking lower onto her frames, "Not my best plan I know but..."

Tyto snorted, and Cassandra gave her a dirty look.

"It was either have Percy cause a distraction or try to sneak a class 6 past the waiting inspector."

"And you chose to trust Percy," Ceri smirked.

"...I blame Thomas."

 "You are Thomas!" Ceri said, laughing along with Tyto, "Thomas is just what you go by when presenting male!"

Cassandra sniffed dismissively, "Exactly, male, I claim no responsibility for what he comes up with."

Tyto lost it, laughing hard enough to rattle the roof, steam billowing from her nose and funnel with every laugh.

 Abbey meanwhile had noticed something, or rather a lack of something. "Cassandra, where's your plow?"

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably, "in the works at home. I was towed behind a goods to Uman then ran here light engine."

"You need a plow!" Abbey admonished. "And why is your plow in the works?"

"Indeed, you wouldn't wanna get stuck again," Screech said innocently.

Cassandra glared, "You know the books." She said flatly.

"My old driver would read them to his daughter."

 "Of course." She sighed, she turned to Abbey, who was impatiently waiting for an answer.

"It's damaged..." She began.

"Of course it is." Tyto sang.

"You're far too rough with it." Ceri chimed in.

"I am Not." Cassandra's eyes, which had settled to a green, flickered gold in anger.

"Then why is it damaged?" Tyto demanded.

"Again," Ceri added.

"Because it doesn't Fit!" Cassandra wheeshed. "Every year I tell them it doesn't fit right, and every year they ignore me."

"Why would they ignore you?" Blaidd asked, baffled.

"Because they want everyone to have the same type, and no one else has the problems I do. It's my blasted bufferbeam."

Everyone glanced to the tank engine's bufferbeam, which sat lower than their own, with larger buffers.

"Why is it shaped like that?" Becca asked.

"When I took over my branchline, it still had rolling stock that predated standard buffer heights. I was given these so that I could buffer up to either height."

"And they never rebuilt the rolling stock?" Enid said with a wrinkled nose.

"The ones we owned, but some are private wagons... it's a right pain." Cassandra sighed.

"What even are you?" Enid asked curiously, wincing as Abbey glared at her.

Cassandra smirked, "I'm an LBSCR E2."

Gwyn looked up from where he'd been cleaning out Screech's firebox.

"If you're an E2 I'm the bloody queen."

Her smirk widened, "The NWR has the purchase papers."

Gwyn scowled at her, shaking a rag playfully, "You can't fool me lass, you're at least 10 tons too light to be a bloody Billington."

"Then why do I regularly exchange letters with my siblings in Southampton?"

She chuckled at Gwyn's glare, "The LBSCR sent an E2 to Sodor in 1915, I arrived. The NWR bought said E2 in 1920 and I became their Number One. As far as anyone knows or can prove, I am former LBSCR 110. Driver suggested writing letters to my siblings in the 20s, and we've been sending monthly letters ever since."

"Then you're an E2," Abbey said simply.

"She's nothing like a bloody Billington!" Gwyn spluttered.

"If the other E2s say she's their sibling, then she is," Screech said firmly.

Gwyn groaned in exasperation.

 Freda just laughed, "It's no use. I dare say the engines know better than you."

Gwyn grumbled under his breath.

Cassandra smiled smugly, "I was painted black with red lining originally if that helps, although I've been heavily rebuilt since then.."

Gwyn gave her a flat look, "that could be almost any railway, especially during the war." He sighed, "I guess it doesn't really matter."

"It's going to bother you until you figure it out, isn't it," Freda said, amused.

"Yes!"

Freda shook her head at her husband's antics. She turned to Cassandra. "Don't worry dear, we'll get you a plow that fits you so well you'll hardly know it's there.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2023: Day 28 - Which Way Now?

Lost in the Fog:

The Island of Sodor was hosting a visitor from the Other Railway. The visitor was a large, impressive tank engine who was helping out on Thomas’ branchline.

“I do love getting to pull trucks again,” the engine said cheerfully to Percy. “We don’t to pull trucks on my heritage railway.” “They might be fun, but you do have to be careful,” warned Percy. “Some trucks can be troublesome.” The engine chuckled. “Don’t worry about me, Percy – I’ll be fine!” Percy was doubtful. And yet, to his amazement, the visitor managed the trucks well. The trucks came along quietly, distracted from misbehaving by the songs the engine sang to them.

The visitor really did brighten up the yard every time they passed through. “Did you need a hand?” he offered to Toby as the old tram struggled with a long line of empty ballast trucks heading back for the Little Western. “That would be great,” grinned Toby. “Thank you.” With the visitor’s help, they managed the run in half the time it usually took – and better yet, his sing-a-longs kept the trucks from acting up.

“You really have a knack with the trucks,” mused Duck, watching in amazement as the big engine shunted them into their proper places. “I’m impressed.” “Thank you!” the visitor said. “That’s too kind!”

The visitor grew to be popular amongst all the engines. The speed and dedication they brought to every train won over even the gruffest of trucks and engines alike – not even James could think of a bad word!

Everyone was sad when it came time for the visiting engine to return back to their heritage railway. “Safe travels!” called Percy. “Don’t get lost!” warned Oliver. “Lost?” quizzed the engine. “That isn’t likely, is it?” “Well… no – but sometimes the signalman near Killdane nods off. Make sure you whistle to alert him to your presence.” The engine smiled. “Thanks for the advice, I’ll keep it in mind!” And with that, the engine set off into the setting sun.

Things went well at first – but then night fell. With it came the mist. The mist rose up out of every crevice, seemingly rising up out of the ground itself, swirling around and blanketing everything it touched in an impenetrable wall of grey.

The visitor peered into the darkness, trying to see which town they were passing through. The station signs were obscured – several station lamps flickered and died and a chill danced in the air, winding around the visitor and doing its best to freeze their boiler into ice. The visitor still battled onwards.

“We can’t stop here…” they said, narrowing their eyes to try and spot a familiar shape. “It’s the middle of the mainline. No trains can stop here.” “Then which way now?” asked the engine’s driver. The answer lay just up ahead, where a signal light shone green, piercing sharply through the mist to illuminate the world around it.

“Someone must be expecting us,” hummed the driver. “That’s good!” A station platform appeared on the engine’s left, and they slowed to a stop, waiting for some sort of instructions on where to go. The driver and fireman looked back, and then the driver groaned.

“That stupid signalman! Come on, you need to go remind him that he needs to drop the signal back to red.” “And you?” “I’ll go find us some hot coffee in the station house. This seems like a big station – there’s got to be someone around.” The two left their engine sizzling nicely under the station canopy, heading off to complete their respective tasks.

Normally, this would have been fine – and had the engine been anywhere else, this would have been a routine stop. But the name of the station illuminated by a flickering station lamp was Killdane. “Um… shouldn’t we whistle?” asked the engine. But his crew had already left.

The engine’s eyes darted around. Something felt off about this station. It wasn’t the electric wires running above the tracks, nor was it the eerily still lines of coaches and trucks in the sidings. No, there was something else. Maybe… the second set of points that felt like they shouldn’t be there?

“Oh, why hello there,” grinned a deep, almost gravelly voice from behind the engine. “Um… hello?” The visitor had never heard that voice before. There was no face to put to the sound – this voice was completely new, and it scared them slightly. “What’re you doing on our line?” “I’m waiting to continue on,” the engine replied firmly. “We’ll take you,” the voice replied. Before the engine could question that, they were buffered roughly from behind. There was the deep, almost howling honk of a diesel horn, and the engine was suddenly being shoved forwards, out of the station.

“Hey! You can’t do this! Stop! Stop! Driver!” The visiting engine’s driver sprinted onto the platform, just in time to see the shape of a long train of scrap leave the platform where their engine had previously stood.

The engine tried to apply their brakes – but they couldn’t. They tried to call out for help – but no one answered.

The diesel pushed the poor engine down a long, overgrown path that led down through a bricked path between rows of town houses. The mist was even thicker down here, engulfing the poor engine and making it almost impossible to see what was ahead.

At least, until the mist began to clear around a large industrial estate, littered with the rusting remains of engines. “Oi! You can’t do this!” shouted the engine. “I’m preserved! Preserved!” “No one will come looking here,” sneered the diesel, shunting the engine into a shed. “Your crew can’t save you now, steam kettle.”

The steam engine sat, cold and alone, in the shed. Ahead of them, a pair of massive sliding steel doors were clamped tightly shut. Suddenly, the engine felt a jolt. The scrap trucks had been shoved behind them.

Two identical diesels in grimy green paintwork with wasp stripes oiled up on either side of the visitor. “This time, there’s no escape,” one sneered. The other just shot the poor visitor an unidentifiable look.

The two rumbled backwards again – and then the engine felt another jolt, and they all began to roll forwards. The giant steel doors groaned open, revealing a room bathed in red. Molten slag bubbled on either side of the track, and a giant claw loomed overhead.

“This engine’s not for scrapping!” begged the engine. “I just want to go home!” The claw didn’t stop its descent, lowering down, down, down…

With a sickening crunch, it ripped into the visitor’s boiler, lifting the engine up into the air, and dragging it over to the molten slag.

“Just another poor soul, gone to meet its maker,” sneered Arry. Bert didn’t reply. He just silently rumbled away, a goal set in his mind.

This time, Arry wouldn’t get away.

Back to Master Post

[sparkarrestor]

Troublesome Coaches 3: Branchline Coaches

Written By: SparkArrester

After their ordeal with James, the Pullmans were very quiet for a few days, but soon enough, they were back to their old tricks. However, rather than going after engines with their insults, (Not wanting a repeat with James!) they went after other coaches instead! Soon, Duck would have to shunt the Pullman's away so as to not cause arguments! But, one day, that was soon to change…

Thomas had been sent to the big station to help around the yard. He had brought his coaches, Annie and Clarabel, with him to receive some cleaning and maintenance ready for the busy holiday season. They had been shunted with the other carriages as Thomas helped out around the yard, and were delighted to catch up with old friends and make new ones. However, their good mood was cut short all too soon…

“Ugh!” Snorted Oleander as she gazed at Annie and Clarabel, “Whatever is that rubbish!”

“We’re not rubbish!” They retorted.

“You are! I honestly don’t see the point in keeping things like you around!”

“And what about you?” Scoffed Annie, “I heard all about your little episode with James!”

“Too right!” Added Clarabel, “Coaches that endanger their passengers are not worth being here!”

At this, Oleander and the other Pullmans were quite upset, except for Ophelia.

“Uhhh… Maybe we should just let this one go?” She said cautiously.

“Absolutely not!” Seethed Oleander, “Listen to me and listen well, filth, you are both nothing but frankenstein abominations that should have been broken up years ago!”

 This caused another argument among all the other coaches and the Pullmans, but Annie and Clarabel didn’t join in. They were far too hurt to say any more. However, unbeknownst to them, Thomas had heard everything. He was very cross at what the Pullmans had said and made a plan to pay them out.

“Tell you what Duck, how about I shunt the Pullmans today?” 

Duck looked on in disbelief at Thomas, but, not really in the mood to deal with the Pullmans that day, accepted the offer. He watched as Thomas quickly ran off to fetch them before continuing his work. As for Thomas, he quickly ran to the carriage sheds. The Pullmans were most surprised to see him.

“Where is Duck?” They asked, but they didn’t get an answer.

He bumped them as he buffered up, and paid no attention to their cries of indignation. When they reached the liner terminal, Thomas enacted his plan. The Pullmans were caught off guard as Thomas sped up suddenly. They swerved over the points, and with a crack, they bounced off  the rails and hit the ballast with a crunch. Thankfully, they stayed upright, but the front half of the train was now in poor condition. But before the Pullmans could berate him, Thomas spoke in a quiet voice.

“Say anything about my coaches again, and it will be far worse next time…”

That shut them up right then and there!

The Fat Controller, while cross for the delay, didn’t really care about the Pullmans themselves. He had heard about their attitude from the other coaches. He simply confined Thomas to the sheds for the rest of the day. As for the Pullmans, they were taken away for inspection and minor repairs, with some regular express coaches taking their place. Oleander, who had gotten away with no damage, was put on a siding as the other pullmans were being repaired. But she wouldn’t be there for long!

“What is the meaning of this!” She shrieked, as Percy backed down with a line of dusty empty stone trucks!

“I can’t get to the Breakvans!” replied Percy in a sweet voice, motioning to the conveniently derailed truck blocking the brakevans, “And you’re the closest thing to one!”

“I absolutely will not act as a brakevan with filthy trucks and go up branchlines!” seethed Oleander.

But there was nothing she could do as Percy started off! Of course, having heard about all the things Oleander had said, Percy planned this whole idea out, and would make sure Oleander got the worst ride of her life!

She did. Percy and the trucks made things very difficult for her, and by the time they reached the top station of Thomas’ branchline (And after the guard had gotten himself drunk off wines he found in her mini-bar), she was filthy! But it didn’t end there! Mavis came and took her up to the quarry. That’s where she stayed until the end of the day, being covered in dust, grime, and stone chippings. The workmen, who hitched a ride in her, dirtied her upholstery even further. Of course, they were so eager to ride in a first-class Pullman, they didn’t take notice of her whining, and enjoyed themselves immensely. Oleander was just desperate to get back to Tidmouth by any means necessary!

The other Pullmans had been repaired, and were simply put in the carriage sheds until the next day. Of course, they noticed Oleander’s disappearance, and were wondering what had happened to her. They got their answer soon enough! They looked on in horror at Oleander, filthy and exhausted, and Percy, smiling happily as she shunted her at the head of the train. The other Pullmans visibly recoiled when her buffers touched their own. The cleaners had already left as well, so they had to spend the night like that. Just before they went to sleep, they heard a voice from outside.

“Ugh! Whatever is that rubbish!”

They weren’t sure, but they thought that voice belonged to Annie and Clarabel!

[curseofdelos]

2 & 6 for ask game !

2. Hazel & Nico in Tartarus AU

This is exactly what it says on the tin lol. Hazel and Nico fall into Tartarus instead of Percy and Annabeth at the end of MOA. Not much I can say here without giving away my secrets, but I have a lot of fun ideas for this one I'm excited to send off into the world <3 Also it's just really fun writing a Hazel POV fic <3

A snippet:

Hazel climbed to her feet, and looked around. The glass beach stretched inland around fifty yards, and then dropped off the edge of a cliff. She didn’t think she would be gone from the Argo II this long so she didn’t have any supplies, and they both lost their swords in the fall. Hazel concentrated on stygian iron and imperial gold, and managed to find Nico’s sword a short walk down the beach, but her precious cavalry sword was lost on the bottom of the Cocytus.  She had no weapon, no food or water, no nectar or ambrosia or unicorn draught. She was utterly defenceless.  Fuck. Hazel walked back to where Nico was still sitting on the ground and offered him his sword, but Nico waved her away. “You keep it.” Hazel blinked in surprise. “What?” “I hate to admit it, but… the jar took a lot out of me. My powers are weakened, and my reflexes are way too slow. Out of the two of us, you’re better equipped to fight right now, so you should be the one with the sword.”  Hazel couldn’t believe it. Nico loved his sword. It was one of the only belongings she ever saw him carry. “Are you sure you want to go through Tartarus without a weapon?” Nico let out a short, bitter laugh. “Of course I don’t, but the only way we’re going to survive down here is if we strategize and make sacrifices. Right now, you’re the better fighter, so you get the sword. I want it back when we’re done, though.” “Of course.”  Hazel certainly wasn’t going to complain about having a weapon, and especially having this weapon. Nico had allowed her to hold his sword before, although she had never used it in a fight. It thrummed with a power unlike any other weapon she had ever wielded. There was something about the stygian iron that made her feel strong, powerful. No wonder Nico never let it out of his sight. She wouldn’t either if her cavalry sword felt like this. 

6. 10 years later

This is one of the first fics I started writing for this fandom back before I started publishing stuff last October, but basically I wanted to explore what happens to Greek demigods after they leave CHB because I refuse to believe that they all just. die young. It was going to be an exes-to-loves solangelo fic focusing on them meeting again ten years after they left camp, while also exploring the lingering trauma they have from their time at camp, their relationships to their powers, their identities as demigods, and who they are now/want to be in the future <3

Not going to go into too much detail because while I don't see myself finishing this particular fic, I do like the ideas and their dynamic still so I might recycle them for a different fic in the future, we'll see what happens lol

A snippet:

Will dropped the pillow from his face. “Yeah, another rejection.” He sighed, leaning back into the couch-part and stretching his legs out across the bed-part. “Apparently someone else got there first, and the landlord already accepted them, so it’s back to the drawing board I guess.” Austin smiled. “You’ll find somewhere. There’s plenty of real estate in New York.” “I know. I just feel bad for mooching off of y’all for so long.” Kayla emerged from the kitchen with two bowls of cereal and plopped down onto the couch-bed next to Will. “Yeah, it’s such a tragedy that we have to split our rent three ways instead of two,” she drawled, handing one of the bowls to him. “Please, Will. Leave soon so we can go back to paying more rent!” Will rolled his eyes as he accepted the bowl. “Do you have to eat that here? I don’t want your crumbs on my bed.” “You’re eating here!” “Yeah, but I don’t care if I get crumbs on my bed.” Kayla shoved his shoulder, but made no effort to get up, and instead made a show of settling in. “You’re not the boss of me anymore, Solace. My apartment, my rules.” She looked Will right in the eye and took a big, slow spoonful of her cereal.  “Also my apartment,” Austin added, watching them bicker in amusement as he ate as if they were some sort of dinner entertainment. “Seriously though. We don’t mind you staying here. It’s kind of like being back at camp again. It’s nice.”

[rygoespop]

Thomas and Friends: Tales from Sodor (Story 112): The Feared and The Brave

Happy 2024 everyone! Here’s the first story to kick off 2024, enjoy!

Narrator: The Feared and The Brave

Scene opens at Brendam Docks, as a Rail Ferry arrived

Narrator: One day, at Brendam Docks, a pair of visiting engines arrive

The drawbridge lowered, revealing Gator as he puffed off the Rail Ferry

Salty: Yargh! Well I’ll be, Gator! Good to see you again!

Gator: Hello Salty! Long time no see!

Vinnie: *blew his whistle as he puffs off the ferry* Hurry up Gator! I wanna get this done!

Gator: Ok ok Mr. Grumpy Tender!

Scene transitions to Tidmouth Sheds, where the 11 Engines (Thomas, Edward, Henry, Gordon, James, Percy, Toby, Emily, Molly, Rosie, Stanley, and Rebecca) are at their berths and Toby on a siding

Narrator: One day, at Tidmouth Sheds, the engines were excited to see who the visiting engines are

Percy: Oh I’m hoping its Gator

James: Nah, I think its Axel

Stanley: Hoping its Sam, he’s friendly since he helped us build that museum

Just then, a whistle was heard

Thomas: That sounds like-

Percy: Gator!

Gator: *puffs in* Hello Everyone! It’s good to see you all again

Molly: Hello Gator, its great to see you again

Gator: Yes Molly! It’s great to see you too!

Vinnie: *blew his whistle* Alright Gator, that’s enough with the introduction

Thomas: *shocked* Oh no! Not him again!

Vinnie: Hello shrimp! We meet again!

Gator: Thomas! You know this engine?

Thomas: Yeah! He caused trouble during the Great Railway Show on The Mainland

Flashback shows footage of The Great Race

Emily: He almost tried to hurt Philip!

Vinnie: Pipsqueak had it coming

Thomas: Well I stopped you!

Percy: Gator, how did he come with you?

Gator: Well Percy, on the way to Sodor from Colombia, we had to make a stop in North America to pick up Vinnie

Just then, Sir Topham Hatt showed up

STH: He’s right, I called both The Colombian Controller and The American Controller to have Gator and Vinnie help out on expanding a new railway on the Island

Henry: New railway?

Gordon: What do you mean sir?

STH: It’ll be a while, but in the meantime, all of you get to work!

Scene transitions to Molly pulling 3 Express Coaches

Narrator: Soon, everyone got to work

Gator blew his whistle as he pulled 5 Trucks full of crates

Gator: Hello Molly!

Molly: Oh, hello Gator

Gator: Carrying Passengers?

Molly: Well, y-yes! I sometimes take the express

Gator: Well, that is kind of brave to see you pull something that is deemed scary

Molly: Y-yes, yes it does

Scene transitions to Vinnie arriving at Knapford Yards

Narrator: Meanwhile, Vinnie is up to old tricks

Vinnie: *sees Philip* Ah ha! There you are!

Philip: *shocked* Oh no! Not again! *oiled away*

Vinnie: *puffs after him* Come back here shorty, I wanna play with you!

Billy was puffing down and across a rail crossing pulling 3 Flatbeds of Oil Drums

Billy: *stops after he sees Philip* Philip?

Philip: Billy! Look out!

Vinnie: *crashes into the flatbeds as oil splashed on him* Raugh!

Billy: Hey! *crossed*

Vinnie: No where to run this time!

Philip: BoCo help me!

Just as Vinnie got up to Philip

Diesel 10: Hey! Leave the runt alone!

Vinnie: *sees Diesel 10* Oh, you again! Time to finish what we started!

Diesel 10: Come get me! *he clamps Pinchy and oiled out of the yards*

Vinnie: *blew his whistle as he puffs backwards* Get back here!

Scene transitions to Vinnie chasing after Diesel 10 through the countryside

Narrator: Soon, Vinnie and Diesel 10 raced through the countryside

Vinnie: Come back here! I’m gonna enjoy this!

Diesel 10: You’ll never catch me!

Diesel 10 oiled onto The Fenland Track, as Vinnie got on the same line

Diesel 10: Hope you like swimming in the marsh! *honks his horn as he oiled fast and off the bridge*

Vinnie: Huh?!

The section of the bridge broke and Vinnie crashed into the Muddy Marsh

Vinnie: Oh!?! Ah no!

Narrator: Vinnie crashed into the Muddy Marsh!

Scene transitions to Gator, who arrived with Rocky, to get Vinnie out of the Marsh, Sir Topham Hatt was there

Narrator: Soon, Gator arrived with Rocky to get Vinnie out of the muddy marsh, to make matters worse, Sir Topham Hatt was there, and he was crossed

STH: I don’t know who do you think you are Vinnie, but when you’re on my railway, you should have some respect, and I’m sure your controller is annoyed about this

Vinnie: Yes sir, sorry sir

Scene transitions to Gator shunting Vinnie to the Steamworks as the sun sets

Narrator: Soon, Gator shunted Vinnie all the way to the Steamworks

Gator: Hey, look on the bright side Vinnie, at least we’re here to help build an expansion to this railway

Vinnie: You know, your right Gator, we’re here to help out

Gator: That’s what I like to hear!

Vinnie chuckled as the camera pans to his mouth as he secretly makes an Evil Grin

Vinnie: Soon, I’ll get back at them

Gator: What was that?

Vinnie: Oh uhhh.. Nothing!

Gator: Oh

Steam clouds rolled in

Story End