#but god DAm i hate probability | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cupcakeinat0r · 5 months

Text

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 6

The semester is almost over, and finals are just around the corner. Miguel and you had been tutoring students for test prep. Your help was greatly appreciated by Miguel, cutting his work basically in half, and he sees that you were good at it, too. It seems that paying attention in his class the whole year paid off. Granted, Miguel was fine as hell, so you never wanted to miss class.

You had to be honest, though, when you volunteered yourself to be Miguel’s little TA, you didn’t think it’d be this difficult. Is this what Miguel went through? For five years? Damn. Poor baby probably hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since he started this job. You didn’t know how he did it, and it’s only been your third day of tutoring.

Not to mention that some students were, and you hate to admit it… incompetent. There were moments where you had to refrain from making certain faces toward students who acted like they hadn’t been to a single class of Miguel’s. But because you were so kind and patient, you sat with those few and made sure they left that hour feeling prepared for their final. Now you understood why Miguel’s temper was a bit short. Yours would be too if you had to deal with students who never put in any effort. Of course, some classmates also knew as much as you did, only needing the sessions for review.

Aside from tutoring, you and Miguel’s relationship was evolving. Your heated kiss in the lecture hall has been on Miguel’s mind non-stop, replaying the scene over and over again as a bedtime story for the past week. He couldn’t believe that his dreams were coming true. You had him whipped. That one kiss was what broke the dam, and now, Miguel was unleashing kisses on you. He’d sneak one in at every opportunity he had. Every little interaction would go something like this:

Say you were on your way to a session with a classmate, it’s early in the morning, the hall is empty, and no one is around other than Miguel who you consequently pass by as he leaves his private office. The scowl on his face immediately softens when he sees you, all done up pretty like always.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He still sounds as if he’s just woken up, his velvety timbre filling the quiet hall. It felt like you were Juliet and he was Romeo, forbidden lovers meeting in secret.

“Oh! Professor O’Hara-“A small squeal leaves your lips when he pulls you into his embrace, his brawny arms enveloping you completely. You giggle into his chest, your hands snaking up his soft belly and around toward his back, where they almost touch. “Calmate, mama, no one’s around,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a sweet kiss there. You breathe in and smell a manly musk from the fabric of his turtleneck. You had to lift your head from his chest or else Miguel would not stop kissing you all over. It was like there was no ‘off’ button, there was only ‘on’ when it came to you,

“Miguel, I’m already running late, they’re waiting for me!” You loudly whisper, only half-trying to push him away since he felt so warm and soft, but you really did need to go.

“Lo siento, mamita, but how can I resist when you look like this? Can you blame a guy?” He steps back and raises your hand to twirl you like a princess. You smiled bashfully, your cheeks going red. He was so corny and he knew it, slightly cringing at his own effort to be “cool”. It made you laugh because he would NEVER act this way in front of anyone. Anyone except you. He smiled, laughed, and made cheesy remarks only for you. God, you needed this grumpy dork.

“Migggg, stop it, I really need to go!” You softly laugh, covering your cheesy smile.

“Nunca, preciosa,” His voice is low when he pulls you back in, “But alright… for now. how ‘bout a kiss before you go?” and with a smile, you get on your tip toes, and Miguel lifts you into a tender kiss, and when he kisses you, he breathes you in. It’s like you’re his life supply when he kisses you.

Just when you thought the kiss was over and you were about to be on your way, he didn’t let go of your hand. You look back, and you’re met with those damned puppy dog eyes, “Wait, one more? Please?” He was so pathetic, but how could you tell him no? Of course, you wouldn’t, so you come back and give him another deep kiss.

Once you two pull away, his forehead remains on yours and he whispers, “Otra mas? Porfa?” He coos. “I thought you said one more?” You teased his adorable pleading, but you took his chin with both hands and kissed him anyway.

Two more kisses turned to three, four, five, six… and Miguel wouldn’t stop; “One more?”, “Okay, now one more.”, “Another one.”, “Otro besito…”, “no, not yet, one more, one more”, “mkay, last one.”, “wait wait wait, one more…” and the two of you broke into soft laughs as he kept asking for more kisses, you slowly trying to pull away as you were passed late now. With each step back you took, Miguel would step closer, keeping your body against his with his bulky arms. The once silent hallway was now filled with quiet, giddy laughter as Miguel attacked you with pecks. There was something so innocent about it all, the harmony between your high-pitched giggles and his low chuckles, accompanied by the continuous smacking of his lips on yours in a peaceful, early morning within the high-ceiling school walls.

“Miguel O’Hara, please!” You snap at him, still in a whisper, but you both just laugh. “Okay, okay, fine,” he finally lets go of you, watching you leave with a content smile,” I’ll see you later? Don’t leave without passing by, please,” you smile back at the buff nerd and his concern for you. “I will! I promise!” You scurry down the hall to meet with the student who’s probably wondering where you’ve been. Miguel doesn’t step back into his office until you’re out of sight, his mind still a little foggy from the interaction.

If someone had told him at the beginning of the year that the grad student who always showed up in the cutest outfits, sat front row, and always gave him the prettiest, lip glossed smile would requite his feelings, he would laugh at their face (or simply just stare menacingly at them, more like). When he chose to settle down and take this job, he would’ve never thought he’d find you. You were that something he didn’t know he needed.

You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew. By fault of your sweet nature, you decided to take in a few extra students, which left you in the library hours later, your forehead on your forearm, a bit of drool pooling on the table, and snoring. Miguel had been doing some tutoring as well, though, he finished earlier than you and started doing some other collegiate duties. It was unknown to him that you did this, so he thought it was strange when you didn’t come by for that long. He knew you wouldn’t have left without saying anything, so he began to grow worried as hours went by. He made his way down to the lecture hall, but there was no sign of you there. He immediately started thinking the worst, a million different horrid explanations running through his mind as he picked up his pace through the hallway.

His heart eased when he saw your sleeping form in the library, the only light coming from the aged lamps on each of the tables, but the relief is short-lived once he realizes how long you’ve been working and how tired you must’ve been to fall asleep sitting like that. Making sure to be quiet as there were still two or three other students there, Miguel walked towards you, faintly smiling at your snoring.

“Mama… Mamita…” he whispers, nudging your back gently, waking you up. Your eyes, blinking continuously, adjust to the dim lighting of the library and you make out the large figure beside you. It’s your sweet, darling professor.

“Mph… huh?” you stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn, “Oh my God, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you say with a tired chuckle, your eyes still adjusting.

“Mama, what are you apologizing for? Ugh, I should’ve come to check on you sooner.” He sat beside you, but then one of the students quickly hushed him, giving him a dirty look for interrupting their study sesh. He raised his hand mouthing ‘sorry’.

"Did you need something?" you softly asked him, not wanting to be hushed as well, and he just replied by intertwining his long, girthy fingers with yours under the table where no one could see. "Nothing, mamita, however, I need you to go home. You weren’t supposed to stay so late.” He tuts, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles like he always did. He already didn’t like that you were tutoring on top of your own schoolwork, the only reason why he let you help in the first place being that you wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Oh, Miguel, always worrying about everyone but yourse-” You were cut off by another hush by the same irritated student. You both looked back at them, Miguel looking back with a scowl this time. He looked like he was about to say something, but you pulled away his attention with a sheepish smile, “Maybe we should go talk somewhere else.” You whisper. Taking your advice, he stood with you and followed you to a more private section of the library.

Settling in a small nook area where the two of you are surrounded by shelves of books, you sat on the floor, Miguel following shortly after. “So, care to explain why you’re still here?” He speaks while finding a comfortable position.

You both lay against the shelf, your head tilted upward as you respond, “I just figured I could help a couple more students, is all. I guess it was after I finished with the last student and started studying for my other classes was when I knocked out.” Miguel lifts his arm so that he can wrap it around you, offering a cushion between you and the hardwood of the shelves.

“Do you ever not study?” he raises a brow, but you’re quick to retaliate, “Do you ever not work?” You both chuckle. “Touché.”

“How do you do it?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” You lay your head on his shoulder. “You basically run this entire department on your own. All I’ve done was tutor for a couple of days and look where that got me.” Miguel chuckles at this. “I know sometimes it may not seem like it, but in all honesty, I love what I do, and you’ve gotta give yourself more credit than that, mama. You’ve truly been amazing, sweetheart. Always have been.”

“Well,” you snuggle into him a little more, relishing in his natural warmth that rivals the library’s cold air, “You helped.” Miguel returns the gesture by wrapping his arm tighter around you, sensing that you are becoming cold. “We helped each other, how ‘bout that.” you look up and smile at him, your cheek against the soft fabric of his cable-knit sweater (that fits juuust right on him).

“Speaking of which, what’s this class you’re studying for?” you sit up straight and let out a tired sigh. “It’s another lecture,” you grab a hefty textbook from your bag beside you, letting Miguel take a look at it, “On top of creating a thesis, I have to memorize all of this.” He looks through his glasses that are hanging low on his nose and skims over the material.

“How much of this have you memorized?” he still looks at the pages. “About half maybe.”

“Let’s fix that.” he sat up straight, positioning the book to where you can’t see its contents. “What’re you doing?” you’re suspicious of Miguel, knowing very well that he should be going home and not staying to help you study for a class that he didn’t even teach.

“I’m helping,” he clears his throat, “Which years did the ‘Modernist’ era in English literature begin and end? Please provide a short explanation of what catalyzed this period-” You ignore his question, attempting to take the book. “Miguel, you’ve done enough for today, you should be going home!” but he doesn’t let you have it.

“Mama, I just found you dead asleep while sitting up. You were gonna stay either way. I’d much rather be here so you don’t pass out again n’ make sure you get home safe. Please?”

He’s literally the most perfect man ever. The person currently sitting in front of you just left his office doing whatever important task he usually occupies himself with to check up on you and is willing to stay here until you feel ready for your final. You’re convinced he’d do anything for you, and you’re right in thinking so.

“Fine,” You’re beginning to realize how hard it actually is to say ‘no’ to Miguel, but you know Miguel was a bit of a pushover when it came to you as well, so you guess it’s alright, “But I feel like there should be some sort of incentive, though… some motivation.” you cheekily smile.

Miguel’s eyes shift above his lenses, intrigued by your proposition. “How ‘bout this. Every time I get something wrong… you get a kiss.” He chuckles. “Alright, and I’m guessing if you get it correct, then I should reward you with a kiss, right?” he says matter-of-factly, making you smile again. You were hoping he’d suggest something like this.

He’d ask a question, you’d answer, and depending on if you got it right, Miguel would give you a kiss, or if you got it wrong, you “had” to give him a kiss (not much of a punishment, to be frank). You didn’t even wait for him to finish asking you a test question at times, you would just give him a tender kiss on the cheek just because. Some kisses, though, Miguel would get distracted, taking it from an innocent peck to a heated, handsy kiss, and reluctantly, you’d get him back on the task at hand. It got to the point where you ended up seated between his legs, and you'd start getting all these answers correct, so Miguel would plant kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin there. They would surely leave hickeys for the next day, but you didn’t care.

With your back against his hard chest and tummy, it was very hard to not delve into both of your fantasies. It was when Miguel began faintly bucking his hips against yours, his hardness expanding as he got blinded by lust again. "Miguel! Not here!” you'd whisper, and Miguel would groan in defeat. Trust, if you two weren’t in public, you would’ve let him do anything and everything he was thinking about doing to you.

That, having to stay quiet, and making sure no one was coming, it all made it feel like you were both teenagers again who were out later than they should be, laughing and shushing each other.

The incentive being kisses actually worked in the sense that it kept you up, so not only was it an excuse to make out in the library, but it did technically help you memorize…

An hour or so passes by and you’ve gotten to the point where you know everything you need to for your final, but you didn’t want your time with Miguel to quite just end yet. You don’t know if it was the making out or what but you were suddenly wide awake now.

Miguel is about to test you on a topic one more time when he sees your eyes wandering the shelves, “You like to read, Mig? Just curious.” You look up at him. You were too tired to care whether or not you looked presentable enough for him, but he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. Your hair lost its volume, your lip gloss was no longer shiny, and your mascara was a bit smudged from when you fell asleep earlier, but he found it so endearing. He wouldn’t have minded waking up to the sight every day for the rest of his life.

He closes the textbook, taking this as your way of ending the study session, “Yeah, I like it. I’ll read recreationally when I have the time.” He chuckled, looking at you like you were the only source of light on the planet. You shifted your head from where it rested against his arm and laid down on the floor, your head now resting against his soft stomach like a pillow. Your gaze focused on his hand that was now in yours. Your soft touch brushes against his more calloused, warm skin, playing with his fingers as you speak.

“What do you like to read? Fiction? Non-fiction? Give me details.” You continue to fiddle with his fingers.

He starts to play with your hair with his free hand, moving any on your face, “Hm… I tend to gravitate toward non-fiction. You?"

"Anything romantic for sure," it doesn't take you even a second to answer, "Ever since I was a little girl, I always envisioned myself in those fairytale stories. Princesses, royal balls, a prince charming..." your eyes glanced up at him when you mentioned princes, and his smile grew.

"Oh, yeah?" He smirked, his brow raised. "Mhm. I kinda feel like I’m in one right now, actually.” His cheeks darken at this, licking his lips as he looks away to hide them. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome your smile is?” You add on, making him melt furthermore. He honestly can’t believe you’re saying all this about him. Miguel was usually the man that always knew what to say, but romance? Not his field of expertise, and much less when it came to you.

“Not really, no. Don’t show it much these days.” He looks back down at you, completely smitten by the angel currently lying in his lap.

“Well you should do it more often, it looks nice on you.” You’re not sure what came over you. It was so easy to praise him and watch him become goo from your words and touch.

“Then maybe I should spend more time with you.” Now it was your turn to be bashful. “I make you smile, huh?”

“Quite frequently in fact. It’s ruining my reputation, making me go soft.” You chuckle along with him. “Just face it, you’re my big, scary teddy bear.” Miguel’s heart skips when you say ‘my’. As much as his past self would’ve hated being called that, he loved the possessiveness in it. He was truly yours, since the beginning. “Only if you’ll be the princess I protect.” You smile like an idiot. You hated him (you wanted him so bad).

“This actually reminds me of a certain story...” He ponders on a specific story, one that brings old memories. A faint smile grows on his plush lips.

“Oh, yeah? Mystery, sci-fi, romance…?” you say romance with a badly executed French accent, making him chuckle, “Eh… maybe it’s a romance…” He says with a growing smile.

“Awe, I knew it, ya big softy. Which one?” You two began discussing your favorite romantic books. Turns out Miguel is a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, though, he’d never reveal that to anyone. You feel compelled to get up and search for your favorite book from the shelves surrounding you, which you both end up doing. Once you’ve found y’all’s respective books, you both return to the same position on the floor, but Miguel’s mood makes a shift. There’s a moment when Miguel’s spirit seems to die down, and you catch it. He looks down at the book with somber eyes. He flips through its pages, his brows furrowed and eyes narrow. “You alright, Miguel?”

Miguel clears his throat. “I’m fine. Um...” He thinks about what he’s about to say and whether he should even share it. There’s a beat between the two of you.

“What’re you thinking about?” You can see the gears in his head turn.

“Nada, mamita, I’m fine.” He lies. He looks at you with a weak smile, but his eyes say differently.

“Anything you have to say is important to me.” You give his hand a small squeeze. “Please?”

He squeezes back your hand and kisses your wrist. Miguel then worked up the courage to share something he hadn’t told anyone in what felt like years. Sure, his two closest coworkers knew about it, but that’s about it. Miguel didn’t have many, if at all, true friends outside of his work, but he felt you could be trusted. He felt that comfortable with you. Your softness tore down his tough walls.

You learn that he had a daughter. Her name was Gabriella. He mentions how much she loved playing sports, being outside in the park, and how much she loved it when he read to her. The book currently in his hand was what she would pick almost every night. He’d read it in different voices for each character, making the story come alive for his precious little girl. No matter how many times he read it to her, she listened as if it were the first time. Seeing the little smile on her face made all the fatigue from work melt away. That’s why he chose it as his favorite book.

He lost Gabriella to what he described as an ‘incident’, but you didn’t urge him to say anything more than what he was comfortable with, respecting his boundaries.

“Sometimes, I’ll come back to this book and it almost feels like she’s here again.” He opens the book to the first page. Its cover and spine were intricate, the title reading ‘Beauty and The Beast’.

He branched away from the book for a moment and began to go on and on about what Gabriella was like upon your request to know a little more about her, and instantly, his mood lifted. He speaks about her kindness, intelligence, curiosity, and her extensive imagination. He spoke about her favorite foods (sweets, of course) and even the foods she wasn’t a big fan of. He talked about their post-soccer game rituals of getting ice cream and how they would spend their mornings together eating their favorite cereal before school. With the way he spoke about her, a ball started to form in your throat. It was evident that he loved being a dad. You didn't think you could fall for Miguel harder than you already did until now.

Maybe that was why he was so hard on everyone in his class; maybe it was simply the paternal desire to see your pupils do their absolute best and succeed. It made you sad because this meant that not only has Miguel been alone for all these years, but he’s been alone on account of losing someone he loved so dearly. His precious daughter. And to you, that’s even worse.

You wanted to say how sorry you were for his loss, but you figured he’d heard that millions of times. You wanted to say something that actually meant something.

“Gabriella sounds like a wonderful person,” You say with a small smile. Miguel looks at you, not really expecting a response like that, “And If you were the one raising her, then I know for sure she was absolutely wonderful.”

“She was. Thank you.” Miguel looks down at you, you both sharing a quiet moment. “She would’ve really liked you.” He says softly, looking down at his lap where you were. His thumb caresses your cheek, making you smile even wider.

“Yeah?” You try to hold back any tears. This had to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you. “Yeah.”

The moment is so sweet and so soft and it felt so nice to be able to just relish in the small silences with him. And when you spoke, your voices were barely above whispers. “She would’ve thought you were a real-life princess for sure. I know I do.” You blush at this, Miguel’s hand on your face only adding more heat to your rosy cheeks.

“Well, I think I would’ve really liked her, too. I wish we could’ve met.” You place your hand on top of his. Despite you also feeling saddened by this, there’s still a sense of gentle positivity in your voice.

“Me too.” Miguel’s face softens at your response, scenarios playing in his head. Moments between you and his daughter. What life could’ve been like had his daughter still been here to interrogate you as soon as she had the chance, and then just as quickly become your #1 fan. He’s quiet when he’s thinking about this, and you feel the urge to hug him.

You sit up from his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, Miguel’s face buried into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for sharing that with me.” You whisper in his ear before kissing his head. You rub his back with your other hand, feeling his breathing deepen.

Miguel lifts his head to look straight at you as if to admire you, “Thanks for listening.” You can’t help but pepper kisses all over his face: forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, and Miguel feels like he’s in heaven. At last, he takes your face in both hands and kisses you on the lips. No other dialogue needed, the two of you sit in peaceful silence again, literally just appreciating each other’s existence. The moment is interrupted by the opening of a door in the distance. Surely a night-time guard.

“Y’know… we can get in an awful lot of trouble if we’re seen together like this.” You break the silence with a whisper. The teenage-like ambiance returns, winning a smirk from Miguel. “I know. I guess I just can’t bring myself to care right now.” His eyes trail all over your face, landing on your lips. He kisses you again, his lips descending to your neck and his hands squeezing the flesh of your butt. Ticklish and breathless, you begin giggling, ‘Miguel!” but he doesn’t stop, “Miguel O’Hara! What if they see us!” you whisper.

“Mm, like it when you say my full name.” he muffles into your neck. “Miguel!” you laugh again, trying to push him off. “Take me home! We have class tomorrow!” is what finally stops him. He may or may not have let the heat of the moment get the best of him. “Yeah,” He runs his hand through his hair and fixes his glasses, “You’re right, you’re right.” He stands up, offering you a hand. Without making it look suspicious, you both walk past the guard as well as a few students (who were either passed out or too deep in their downward spiral of an all-nighter).

Miguel drives you home in something you didn’t expect a college professor would be able to afford. He had his hand on your thigh the whole way, but not before he asked if that was okay, to which you happily granted. The entire car ride, Miguel had you smiling, blushing, laughing at his dated jokes. You were so sad when he pulled up to your place, still not wanting the night to end even though you were tired out of your mind.

“Thank you for taking me home, my knight in shining armor.” You lean over, puckering your lips as you wait for a kiss. “Of course, Princesa, anything for you.” You both share probably the billionth kiss of the day before he speaks again. “See you tomorrow bright n’ early?” you nod, letting out a soft ‘yeah’. “Alright, get some rest, beautiful. And don’t be late.” he playfully enters professor mode for the last sentence, and you play along. “Of course, Professor O’Hara. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Miguel kisses you again and bites your lip, the tension rising once again. “Mm, that’s one you haven’t called me in a while.” You giggle from how easy it is for you to excite Miguel, your absolute loser of a professor, but he’s your loser, and that’s all that matters. You feel his hand snake to your inner thigh, his tongue making its way down your throat, “Mm—Don’t get any ideas, mister, you should head home and get your sleep as well.” He lets out a defeated huff, “ay, Mamita, can’t keep doing that t’me…”

As much as you also wanted to be there with him, having him bounce you on his lap or taking it in the backseat, you also didn’t want for Miguel or yourself to miss class the next morning. Miguel agrees, sharing the very last, tender kiss of the night before finally saying goodnight to each other. You close the car door behind you and say one last thing through the window, “We should do this again. It was nice.” Miguel smiles at you, promising you he’ll take you to the public library one of these days.

In exchange for more kisses, that is. Or perhaps more.

a/n: Haiiiiii, I hope you enjoyed <3 He's so cute n needy ur honor!! He simply just wants to be held!! I have 5k ish words to prove it!!! (So sorry omfg)

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my masterlist, bae! <3

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi i @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu @mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @love4saturn @sukunash0e @tinythebunni

551 notes · View notes

g1rlr0b1n · 3 months

Text

Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!! 👹

Gods and Demons (Preview)

Damian's preparations for departure were almost complete when Superman hailed him down. For a moment, Damian considered pretending he had not seen him, but ultimately rose to meet the two men who had now landed gracefully beside him and Goliath. He was familiar with the man known as Superman, but the second man was a stranger to him. He was tall with wavy dark locks framing a sharp jawline and piercing steely grey-blue eyes, he bore a resemblance to the other man. He had a pretty good idea now of who he might be. The man's attire was peculiar though, causing Damian to wrinkle his nose slightly in disapproval. He wore a black suit adorned with shimmering silver stars, his deep crimson colored cloak billowing behind him. The most unnerving part of his uniform however, was the obvious missing "S" shield in the center of his chest, leaving the skin underneath exposed for all to see. Damian quickly averted his gaze, focusing back on Superman. “What’s this?” Damian's features contorted in suspicion as Superman extended a piece of paper towards him.

“An olive branch” he replied calmly, then motioned to the tall figure standing next to him, Kal-El cleared his throat, “this is my son, Zod-El. He will be stationed in Tibet with you for the foreseeable future.” There was a moment of tense silence as if to allow for Damian to process the information. Then, Superman spoke again, breaking the stillness. "Consider him an ambassador of good faith," he said firmly.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms, “Tt. More like a spy to make sure I behave," he retorted with a sharp edge to his voice. The Justice League's true intentions were clear, they had their own agenda, but he intended to manipulate it to his advantage. Despite their lack of trust in Damian's ability to change the League of Assassins, it gave them an excuse to keep him under observation and under their protection. They needed to keep Damian alive regardless of his intentions because the absolute worst case scenario for them would be for him to lose control. It was an obvious choice, he was the only option with ties to the Justice League and a genuine desire to make the world better, even if his methods had not been received well by them. He could only stand to benefit from such a relationship, nonetheless, he’d make them work for it.

Superman let out a weary sigh, his broad shoulders slumping in exhaustion, “you agreed to observation after the attempts on your life," he reminded Damian sternly. The mention of those close calls made Damian flinch slightly, the memories still fresh and painful. Ever since his grandfather’s passing things had not gone as smoothly as anticipated, with everyone with even the slightest of claims coming out of the woodworks, but he survived and he’d continue to do so. Of course, some extra protection would be prudent, even though he had managed to reunite his family giving him the most claim, the attacks still occurred. His mother had even begun to express concern, certain that there was a rat among his inner circle. Damian didn’t want to consider that, the notion that the people he cared for most wanted him dead. Although it was a reality that he hated to admit, he could probably benefit from an impartial set of eyes and ears. Yet, Damian was proud if nothing else and he refused to allow anyone to think him weak.

"That may be," Damian huffed, "but I never agreed to an indefinite placement and certainly not from one of your B-list cast offs." His lip curled teasingly as he surveyed the man clad in black in front of him. He was curious to see how he would react.

The man grit his teeth and extended a hand with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dam-”

Damian interrupted firmly, his piercing gaze fixed on the man's face. “You may call me The Demon’s Head.”

The man chuckled nervously as he pushed back some unruly curls from his forehead. “No offense but...” he hesitated before continuing, “I’d rather call you anything else.”

Damian's lips curled into a menacing smile, his pearly whites barred behind a mask of feigned politeness. "Then, may I have the pleasure of calling you Jonathan?" The man remained silent, his expression guarded. Damian pressed on. "surprised that I know your other name?"

He cleared his throat, his voice betraying forced calmness as he responded, "Not really...and it's just Jon."

The smile fell from Damian's face, replaced by a look of disdain, "I'd rather call you anything else." The lack of push back from his opponent was slightly off-putting, it was simply no fun if they just stood there and took it. But then again, what did he really expect from the son of the Big Blue Boy Scout, always so righteous and obedient.

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. Goliath finally broke the awkward silence with a restless shift, his large frame causing the ground to tremble beneath him. "I see there's no point in arguing with you," he grumbled, casting a patronizing look at Jon. "If Super Slut is ready to depart, then we shall." With the grace of a seasoned rider, Damian pulled himself up and swung himself onto his fiery red companion, feeling the heat emanating from its powerful body. Beside him, Jon effortlessly lifted himself off the ground and into the air. The bat dragon spread its massive wings and with a few strong flaps they ascended into the sky.

#posting the intro to another one of my current WIPs to act as a motivator to help me finish #this is part of a multiverse series I'm working on #Earth 12 #Damian is the Demon's Head (33)#Jon is Zod-El (31)#ok so does anyone know about Zod-Ur? Well in this fic he get's adopted by Superman and Lois and his name is changed to Zod-El #he's technically the son of Earth 3 Ultraman and Earth 12 Wonder Woman #that's why his outfit is kind of a mix between Power Girl and Donna Troy #I disregard canon lol #damijon #jondami #superdemon #cosmicbird #multiverse series #commissioned art

175 notes · View notes

t0rturedangel · 8 months

Text

╭ . . . 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 ੭

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ; ♰ ৎ﹕𝘦𝘹𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘢 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘶𝘮

TUMBLR DECIDED TO FUCK ME SO HARD BC IT CRASHED AND I LOST ALL OF MY ORIGNAL WORK. AUGHRRRRRRRR I'M GOING TO SCREAM SO HARD.

but here is scene two as promised my lovlies, I'm sorry that it's short

➷ ＰＲＥＶＩＯＵＳＳＣＥＮＥ | ＮＥＸＴＳＣＥＮＥ

With her fall,

the cherubim went mad,

with sorrow and hate

she now sat on jagged rocks

You glared at the sky, or whatever it was above you- the bottom side of heaven? whatever it was, this place was not the earth the angels created nor was it the hell your Lucifer was dammed to but there is one thing for sure- you fucking hated this shithole. There was no life here (no life that was thriving, all the nature that could have been here is now reduced to rotten carcasses of what they used to be), just barren land with not a single soul in sight- besides yours of course though your soul was practically torn to shreds.

For endless days of your damned punishment you'd scream at the top of your lungs, begging heaven for it's forgiveness, to be let back in- making empty promises of never betraying them again. You'd sob into your hands when your voice finally gave up, your tears felt unusually acidic and whenever you did cry a weird feeling over came your senses, almost as if you had to get your hands on whatever moved- just as long as it didn't watch you. Eventually, when your crying sessions would end, you'd make an attempt to fly to heaven though their skies, those clouds you'd always rest on, the clouds you and Lucifer would fly through in utter glee were now so far to reach, no matter how fast and strong you flew. For hours, you'd manage to make your wings fly and then- they'd give up, your feathers simply gave up just as much as you did then once again you'd plunge down into the mossy yet rocky ground.

˓˓ HEAVEN! ʾʾ you screamed out as you fell ˓˓ HEAVEN FORGIVE ME! I BEG YOU! ʾʾ though as always your words were never heard, you were sure they could hear you- at least even some of them, perhaps St. Peter?... yeah you heard of him, you heard of his arrival- from who or where you cannot remember but you knew he was now by the gates of heaven allowing good moral souls to enter- GOD FUCKING DAMN IT YOU ARE MEANT TO BE WITH THEM! those shitbags dont care about anyone but them, they're selfish little fucks who only want to see the good- never the bad! Cant they open their fucking eyes to see that they aren't perfect?!

Sharp rocks dug into your back as you landed on them for the umpteenth time for that day, or week, or month- you didn't know any more, time was a concept you lost the knowledge to a while go, as much as other things. Your old social behavior was sure to have faltered, gone wrong, your mind had probably twisted into something horrific. That Cherub that once thrived is now dead, in her wake a new angel- a weeper angel now takes her place.

Now with heaven's ignorance and silence

the weeper lost hope for salvation,

and then she turned to the ground beneath her feet

Out of sheer anger of the lack of reply from the heavenly skies, you kicked yet another rock out of your way- while flying from where it once stood the rock broke into several pieces. It's been so long. So long of you begging and pleading with heaven for one more chance and they have done nothing but ignore you, you'd tried so many times to reach out to them you flew for hours- screamed for days- wept so loud you were sure all three worlds could hear you crystal clear. ˓˓ GOD DAMNIT ʾʾ kicking more things you looked above you ˓˓ CAELO TE DAMNO! TE ANGELOS PATHETICUS OMNES ʾʾ 〔 DAMN YOU HEAVEN! DAMN ALL YOU PATHETIC ANGELS 〕 if heaven will not answer your calls, then you'll turn to hell. While yes, you saw Heaven as a choice first it was mainly because you could not bare to see Lucifer again, after you failed to keep his place in heaven he would surely hate you, he's want you to suffer but seeing as even heaven will not take you- Hell was your only chance of escapism, but how would you get there? Would you be able to stomp onto the ground with such power that the ground would crack and open up?

Perhaps not, after all what if you end up on the earth's land- with humans, eugh, the thought of them makes your stomach twist, full of virtue or full of vice they were disgusting mortals- your presence would send them into insanity, they'd all go mad and kill one another and plus they were dirty, vile creatures- you felt that if you even saw one, they'd end up dead by your hands. Something was wrong with you, you never thought that way before. It was this isolation that was breaking your mind, you needed to get out and fast.

again, but how? There was no way you were willing to break the ground, and the only other way to even get there was through the extermination- yes this was another thing you were aware of, after all Angels needed to pass through your current home to get to hell, so maybe just maybe while they're flying through the portal you'd be able to sneak in too. There was only one problem, you dont know where the portal appears, it never appears in the same place and whenever it does appear you're too far away.

But, it was your only chance and you had to take it, or else you'd go truly mad, turn into a beast and kill anyone and anything you set your glossed over eyes on. Now the waiting game begins, though it wont take long at all- the last extermination was 350 days ago, you counted. Only 15 days left until you could be free from this torture.

Forget heaven, forget it all- now hell is your new destination.

ＷＡＩＴＦＯＲＭＥＨＥＬＬ

𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 ⠆(want to be reminded when I post a new chapter? Lmk!) ⸺ @reverse-soe @jellibean2018 @aliazy @sugarrush-blush @littledolly2345 @immahuman @marsilis @c0sm1cstqrsx @redqueeen99 @persephosposts

219 notes · View notes

skaiplana · 7 months

Text

Read Harrow the Ninth. Went insaner. Read As Yet Unsent. Shitpost and thoughts:

- God's name is John. He makes dad jokes.

- I am glad this is a universe where God can be: a) killed b) fucked. We have empirical evidence

- on that note, let's do dios apate minor three but make it a foursome with me baby. Let me get that ancient pussy and/or dick

- rip Mercymorn that woman served cunt was a cunt and talked!! In an amazing! Way!! Do you think she would fix my scoliosis?

- rip Augustine he was a cunt too. Trying to send god to hell is iconic. Of course Ianthe would kill him.

- Mercy and Augustine... they hated each other. They worked together to kill god. They had a suicide pact. They wanted to be burried next to each other. They died only a few minutes apart.

- Ianthe that gay little pathetic snake.

- CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN THE 'GALL ON GALL' JOKE I DONT GET IT

- GIDEON (2) IS BACK!!! NOW WITH MORE FUCKED UP PARENTAL ISSUES!!!

- is Gideon (2) biologically Mercy's or Wake's kid? I thought she was Wake's because everything Mercy made died but I've seen some people say otherwise

- so like. Wake is evil virgin Mary. Gideon (2) is space lesbian Jesus.

- Gideon (1) is OUT, Pyrra is IN! What that entails I do not know but she seems cooler than him

- how do you get in affair with a commander of your enemy. How do you not use a condom or like kill your sperm. Why were you afraid it's your kid Gideon (Pyrra?).

- when John asked if Harrow and Ianthe are using protection what did he mean. Is he implying that there is a possibility of pregnancy? Is he concerned about infections and stds? They could just cure those? Is he saying that there are like dental dams somewhere on mithraeum

- Harrow. What can I say? She did a diy lobotomy. She's haunted. Every woman wants her. She's in love with a dead body. She made a soup out of her own bone and tried to murder someone with it. I want to hug her

- yk I'm starting to think that the Emperor Undying is a wretched liar a dick and a colonizer. Just a hunch.

- now I don't believe anything he's ever said and I'm thinking that Harrow probably did open the tomb

- Camilla is alive and well!!! Sex Pal is almost alive an fairly well!! Can we get him out of the bones

- Coronabeth is realizing how fucked up the nine houses are! Deuteros is not!

- Abigail!!! Magnus!!! I'm glad I got to see more of them. Abigail is actually so cool I want them to adopt me

- the actual Dulcinea! She's so cool too

- the alive Protesilaus being a poet udhdhehhehe and Ortus having internal beef with him

- Ortus is an interesting person now! Also the way everyone likes his poetry except for Harrow is peak comedy

- they actually summoned Nonius. Then he killed ghost Wake. Then they made a dnd party and went to to fight the Resurrection Beast and they WON I guess. These series is a comedy

- I actually understood everything most of the time except for some obscure words (please explain gall on gall tho)

#the locked tomb #locked tomb #harrow the ninth #gideon the ninth

107 notes · View notes

violetswritingg · 23 days

Text

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

A few seconds later......

"I'm just fine, you're the one who almost had a house drop on them." His words bit at her exposed nerve endings. Filling Riley with regret for even stopping to check on him, her stomach twisting in knots.

"Right. Okay then." Riley was tired, she was hungry, but also still nauseous, her head hurt and now her chest felt tight hearing the sharp tone that had left Tyler's lips. Something so familiar but so distant in her memory. It was how he always sounded when he was upset with her for doing something dangerous.

Or, at least, stupidly dangerous.

Riley turned on her heel and made it a grand total of two steps before the sound of skin against skin and a quiet yelp made her turn back around. Witnessing Tyler, holding his shoulder, glare at the dark-haired man beside him, who had appeared out of nowhere. Having been around the back of the house-turned-debris they were poking around. The new face simply raised his brows and put his hands on his hips, coffee eyes drilling expectantly into Tyler. His ever-present smile never really leaving his face, even present now, a slight curl to them as he nodded his head in Riley's direction.

Tyler glanced her way looking like a kicked puppy, barely meeting her slightly amused-mostly shocked expression and round eyes.

"Sorry" Tyler sighed, "I didn't mean that."

"Kinda felt like you did." Riley swallowed hard, eyes squinting as the sun started to shift positions in the sky, having to raise a hand to block the rays from fully blinding her. "I'm uh- I'm gonna go." She started to walk, Tyler's voice calling after her. His boots crunching against the ground in quick strides.

"No, wait, really, I'm sorry. I'm just still pissed off about that shit with Kate-"

"It's fine Owens. You don't owe me any-" She had barely turned around, desperate for Tyler to not see the hurt she was feeling, because she had no right. But also wanted to just drop everything and apologize and fall into his arms. After her day she knew a single hug from him, if they were still in good standing with each other, would probably make her feel like it would all be okay. Truly. If even only for a couple minutes.

"Please don't call me that." Riley stopped, angled away from the blonde man, shoulders raised. Tyler's voice barely carrying, but it was enough. A lead weight dropping onto Riley's chest. "Just..." The man looked around for a second, "This isn't your fault ya know?" Tyler's abrupt change, turning it on her, shouldn't have thrown her. Not after her experience with it firsthand. But she is.

"Easy for you to say," She sputtered, "It's easy for you, all you do is run around and shoot fireworks up into tornados or god knows whatever else your followers ask you to do next. But for me?" She should stop, She knew that, but once she had started it was like a single crack had suddenly blown open and the dam was crumbling more and more with every word that left her mouth unfiltered, "Every time I fail, it's a town that's hit. Family homes ripped from the ground. Torn to shreds. Parents without kids and kids without parents. So, thank you for saying that, but it is. I could have prevented this Tyler. I could have." She didn't know who she was begging to believe her. Him or herself. "But I fucked up. As per usual."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tyler scoffed, eye wide as he stared her down, hating how Riley's face dropped, her eyes losing any spark they had, but confused more than anything. She couldn't think-

"I'm not my dad. He was always so good at this, I'm sure he'd have it all figured out by now." Riley shrugged, small, pitiful little bubbles of semi-laughter popped up and out of her lips as she shook her head. Gaze eventually falling to her feet as her arms wrapped around her stomach.

She looked so small.

"Maybe..." Tyler started off gently, "but you can't know that. And I'm sorry, but have you met you? You are exactly like him, in a good way." Tyler points at her quickly as she went to open her mouth. "You are not a fuck up Riley. You're working harder than any other chaser I know to actually find answers, help people. But Jesus Christ Riley," He chuckled, beside himself, worry glazing over his eyes, "when is it going to be enough? You almost let yourself get crushed by a house! A couple hours ago! And then you just walked away like it was no big deal." Tyler couldn't stop more incredulous laughter from tumbling past his lips like missiles aiming right at her open wounds.

"So that a family could lay one of its members to rest intact!" Riley bit, chewing through every word. Nails digging into her palms.

The word hit him like a punch to the gut and flashes of that moment. Seeing Nathan's body, Riley sobbing under his weight and covered in her fathers blood. The woman, now grown, in front of him and lacking the rust-colored stains as the one in his memory.

"Ty, I'm sorry-" She wanted to kick herself. Screaming why?! Over and over and over. Tyler didn't let her finish though. Riley taking a step back at the shift in his posture, his shoulders slumping forward as his jaw dropped, quick breaths puffing in and out of his lungs.

"What about you? Is it me that's going to have to pull your body out of a house so I can bury you intact? Like I pulled you out of that truck?"

It felt like she had been dealt a physical blow, the way all the air left her body, as if punched in the stomach. That's what she would equate it to. That sounded right. Shit. Her eyes started to burn, still locked on Tyler's now wide-open orbs. His own shock painted so clearly in the blue-green waves, followed by guilt, and lastly, panic.

For the first time in a very long while, she was met with the familiar feeling of losing something she didn't think she ever would. But that was her fault, as per usual. It was all her fault.

"Riley-"

"Ri, there you are. I have been looking everywhere for you!" Riley was broken out of the fog she didn't even realize she had fallen into by the sudden jolt of a hand clapping her on the shoulder. Shaking her gently a bit before pulling her into his side.

"Daniel." She muttered, leaning more into his hold as exhaustion swept over her like a storm cloud on an April day in Oklahoma. Knees feeling like Jello all of a sudden.

"Hey there boss lady, we need your help with something." His arm over her shoulder anchored her, her hand coming up to grab his as he started to shift them away from the blonde man who looked like he was about to lose his mind.

"Wait- we were in the middle of something. Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it- Not like that-"

Tyler stops in his tracks, having followed behind a couple step without hesitation, as Daniel whipped his head around with a far nastier glare than Tyler ever though such a baby face could make. His breaths felt heavy in his chest, Pulling away from Boone as he felt hands on his shoulder and back. Dragging a hand down his mouth and shaking his head as he could only watch Daniel take Riley away.

"We were worried you had found yourself buried under some other little old ladies house, Sarah, Jenny, and I at least." His voice was gentle, but still joking. Trying to bring the old Riley back, the one who would hang out the Warlock's window in the middle of a storm. Their Riley. Their fearless leader and most looked up to person. Their hero. "You're welcome for the assist, by the way. I take payment in affection and head pats." The 20-year-old grinned down at Riley and the slightly older young adult shook her head. Slowly coming back to herself. Her grin practiced, not meeting her eyes, having almost perfected it after pushing herself to meet their expectations – everyone's expectations – for years.

"Can it Casanova, save it for girls your own age." Riley could see the pure relief sink into Daniel's face and her head ached.

"What if I don't like girls my own age? What if I don't like girls?" He grinned brightly, still supporting her but bouncing up and down as best he could.

"Then why you looking at me like that, huh?" Riley elbowed his side a bit, wincing when her body ached, her side stinging at the movement.

"This is just how I look at people Riley. What are you talking about?"

"You are really pushing your luck kid."

"Ooh. It hurts, I may never recover!" He pretended to sputter and keel over, almost taking Riley with him. Daniel trying to keep his laughter at bay, conscious of their surroundings even when goofing off. While Riley forced hers to cover the shot of pain that went through her side at the sudden jolt.

"Good."

Daniel gasped and clapped a hand over his chest as he straightened up. Riley audibly groaning and gripping her side as he pulled her up with him.

"Sorry!"

~~*~~

“Thanks Sam.” Riley grunted as she tried not to flinch away from the feel of the needle going through skin. Fixing her ripped stitch. “You’re a lifesaver, knew it was a good decision to bring on a med student.”

“Ex-Pre-med student. You’re just lucky I watched way too much youtube way too early on in life with no parental controls in place.” Sam finished off the stitch and pressed a clean bandage over the area gently. Dead silence filling the room as three sets of eyes drilled into his head.

“I’m sorry what?” Riley breathed through clenched teeth.

“You said you knew how!” Sarah gasped, “You said-”

“I said I knew how, you never asked from where!” Sam defended himself, taking off his gloves and throwing his hands up.

“I thought it was obvious why I was asking you! The med student!”

“I was pre-med. For like six months!”

“Oh my god.” Riley muttered, falling back onto the motel mattress, her shirt falling back down as she threw her arm over her eyes.

“We trusted you!” Daniel chimed in, definitely not as angry as he was pretending to be. If anything, just based on his voice alone Riley could tell he was holding back laughter and she couldn’t help but think this was an incredibly stupid thing to be experiencing right now. And so she started laughing.

Then Daniel cracked, which triggered Sam, Sarah being the last to break. Actors.

~~*~~

It had been a couple hours since the whole youtube doctor incident, Daniel and Sam made pretty quick exits once it was confirmed she wasn’t going to die. Sarah stuck around a little longer, flouncing around the way she does when she’s worried and didn’t want to leave Riley alone.

The blonde managed to convince the brunette she was fine and was probably going to turn in early. No storms on radar, not ones that looked like they would produce anything till late tomorrow at the earliest. If not dissipate before anything could even really happen. Tomorrow would most likely be just a inventory and restock day. A day for data analysis and writing a couple more chapters of her thesis that needed to be turned in by the end of next week.

Riley’s mood had slightly increased but she still couldn’t seem to shake the lingering feeling of Tyler’s words. How they clung to her skin and ridges of her brain, the hurt. It brought up a lot of other unresolved feelings that then made her restless.

Trying to turn on the Tv for some white noise didn’t even help like it normally did, not when it was immediately on a local news channel. The broadcast showing footage from the wreckage at Crystal Lake. She knew it was torture to make herself watch it when she spent all day in it, having only washed it off her skin and hair before Sam fixed her stitches. But the feeling of debris dust and dirt and dried blood would always be a sensation that would never leave her mind or her skin. Lingering guilt hanging like a sword.

What is the saying? Heavy is the head that lies the crown.

All the damage played out in front of her as dollar signs flashed at the top, how much can an estimation of the face value even really touch the priceless thing those people had just lost? The feeling of home. Everything they once had, shattered. It can’t be tallied. It’s impossible.

But they still try. It’s absurd.

Quiet knocks at her door cut through the Tv. Riley rolling her eyes and huffing, pushing herself off the mattress slowly, “I’m fine Sarah! You don’t need to tuck me in,” Her hand gripped the door handle, pulling it open, “I’m a big girl I-”

“Hey.” Tyler really tried to tamper down his grin, but he knew he was caught. He never could hide from her.

His laughter wasn’t out loud, but she could see it, and it made her want to shrivel up and die on the spot. Honestly hoping for a hole to open in the ground and swallow her whole. They were in the wrong state for that unfortunately.

“I uh- I heard through the grape vine you and your child army had moved out by the rodeo, and I uh thought you might be hungry. You always forget to eat after a bad chase…” Tyler kept going until it was almost physically painful, until he simply, awkwardly, held up the pizza box in his grip. Like a kid giving his first ever date to the school dance her corsage. It was like a shock to her system, how disarmed she could be for him when he was like this. No bravado, no smirk or cowboy hat. Hair a little messy and not all put together. When he was Ty.

Time to go. Is what her brain was screaming at her.

So she took the pizza, gave him a flash of what she hope passed as a grin and shut the door. His face turning down at every corner as the door clicked in place. Riley, as if made of metal walked over to her bed, sat down, opened the pizza, and looked down.

Pepperoni, sausage, and olives. Her favorite.

Fuck.

Her hands were finding the door before she could really think about what she was doing. Her eyes meeting Tyler’s in an instant, the man’s shoulders rolling back as he stood taller. At attention, waiting for her next move.

Riley opened the door a bit more, leaning on it, hand gently placed over her right side, “Find the dog?” she asked softly, head leaning against the door now as well.

He just looked at her, eyebrows raising.

“Of course you did, what am I thinking?” She answers her own question with a pitiful chuckle. Head dipping down as her eyes went to her socked feet.

“I’m sorry Riley. I feel like I’m saying that a lot lately, I just- there isn’t really an excuse for it. I’ve been an ass, and I apologize.” Tyler burst out after taking a breath, dipping his head down to try and meet Riley’s eye. He hated when she was like this, especially when she was like this because in part of something he said.

“Thank you.”

“How are you doing after all that?” Tyler swallowed, tucking his chin a bit and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Leaning against the door frame, but giving Riley her space. Mentally telling himself to pull it together.

Riley just shrugged, “You know me, can handle the storm but never the aftermath.” Not after becoming the aftermath. It was never the same after that.

“I thought that you might want to see something good after all that today.” He held out his hand. “I wanna take you somewhere, might help take your mind off things for a bit.” His grin was hopeful, but cautious. His gaze soft.

Earlier had been bad, as bad as it gets with them, but this feeling. That look. It always left her stomach filled with proverbial butterflies, made her think that as long as Tyler Owens cared about her enough to look at her like that, that everything would be okay. And it would be, because he would make it okay, because he cared.

It was a look she didn’t think he would ever give her again after last chase seasons dramatic, heartbreaking close. So, she takes his hand, gives it a quick squeeze. He turned it over and sees the blistering and cuts that dotted her palms. Wounds she hadn’t even realized were there until they got to the new motel. Her breath got caught in her throat and she pulled away out of instinct. Tyler looked crushed and that was just too much for her conscience to bear. Her mouth moves before she knows it is.

“Give me a minute? I need to get changed.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be out here.” Tyler grinned, a slight bounce in his step as he backed away from the doorway and moved back to the railing surrounding the walkway around the second floor looking into the parking lot and across the street. Riley waiting till the door was closed to let her smile slip, something feeling like it was sliding back into place and locking in. Like she had finally found the next correct piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

It was a nice feeling. Like something was going right for once.

~~*~~

#twisters #twisters fanfic #tyler owens #aint no love in oklahoma #angst #cowboy #forgiveness #glen powell #hot brisket summer #love

29 notes · View notes

neurodivenport · 1 year

Text

Chase Davenport SFW Alphabet

in collaboration with @firelitsparks!!

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Chase at first is incredibly nervous about it. He's not used to affection in any capacity, and is scared that it might scare you off. The minute you show affection towards him though? He's going crazy with it. He's practically attached at your hip, constantly touching you.

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Chase is... a bit of a pushover when it comes to wanting people to like him. He'll do practically whatever it takes to impress you enough to become his friend. The moment you become best friends, however, is when you really show interest in what he loves, and don't pick on him for the interests he has.

As a friend, he's probably just as obsessed with showing you off as if you were his romantic partner. He's just proud to have friends, tbh. He's definitely making your voice his ringtone.

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

VERY similar to affection, as soon as you open this dam, it's flooding the city. He's clinging onto you like an abandoned baby koala. He's following you into the kitchen like a lost puppy so he can hug you from behind while you make breakfast.

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

This boy falls fast, and this boy falls hard. One week into your relationship and he's already got your wedding planned out in his head. So, yes, absolutely he wants to settle down.

As for cooking and cleaning, I think he's an excellent cook (bionic genius and all that), but hates doing it. He loves cleaning, though, and will take any excuse. He can literally see germs with his bionic eye. He'd go insane. You two have a deal, you cook, and he cleans the kitchen after.

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

You'd have to be a horrible person for Chase Davenport to break up with you. That man will literally put up with so much shit, so whatever you did must be pretty fucking bad! I can see his reasons being like, if you're bad to his family, giving him shit for going on missions, if he found out you're actually using him or you're bad for the team.

How he'd do it? Depends how long you've been together, but I think he'd talk to you in person about it and probably just end up breaking down and crying half way through it.

F - Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Similar to domestic, he's ready to pop the question a week end. He's head over heels fast.

"Bree, how early in a relationship is too early to propose?" - "Chase, I swear to god-"

G - Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

His worst fear is hurting you. You'll never meet someone more gentle in your entire life. You'd practically have to beg him to not treat you like you're made of porcelain. He treasures your feelings and holds your heart in gentle hands when you're together.

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

That boy is a clinger. He's hugging you any chance he gets.

His hugs are certified bear hugs- tight squeeze with lots of love. He always hugs you like you're about to be sent off to war.

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Similar to getting married, boy is having a hard time keeping it contained a week into your relationship. It either goes one of two ways: 1) He's too scared to ruin your relationship and waits a normal amount of time, or 2) He accidentally blurts it out within the first week.

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

He is wildly insecure, so he gets jealous pretty easily. Not out of a sense of ownership, but out of just plain fear and self loathing.

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Same as hugs, Chase kisses you like you're going to war and this is the last time he gets to see you. He treasures every moment he gets with you to the absolute fullest, he's pouring his heart out into every single kiss he gives.

He'll kiss you anywhere, anytime, any place. As long as he can get his lips on you, he's happy.

You kiss him and he's blushing like a maniac, no matter where or when. He's going as red as a tomato.

L - Little Ones (How are they around children?)

I think he could... definitely use some more experience. He gets annoyed a bit easy with them and needs more practice.

M - Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

Your mornings are spent almost entirely in his arms, with him whining every time you try to get up and leave. The only exception he makes are bathroom breaks, which he insists to open the door wide enough so he can hold your hand. That is, until you actually have to get stuff done.

N - Night (How are nights spent with them?)

I think further into your relationship, he'd invent away for him to charge his bionics like in a capsule while still being able to sleep in a bed with you. He wants to watch you fall asleep and watch you wake up, and the nights away from each other are too lonely for him to keep dealing with.

He likes to fall asleep in your arms, safe and content.

O - Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

This fully depends on when you start dating.

Pre-Sebastian, he's an open book, ready to tell you everything straight away.

Post-Sebastian, he's weary and less trusting, but is still willing to spill whenever.

Post-Elite Force finale... he's pretty fucked in that area. He has a hard time trusting people and is kind of always questioning ulterior motives. I think the only way he'd reveal things early is purely accidental, and each time he freaks out about it. He's scared you might hurt him with it, so it takes a long time before he really starts opening up.

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

...Have you met the guy? He's practically got a "go crazy" button.

I think with you he'd be more patient, though. He loves you and is willing to take the time with you. He's short tempered with everyone except for you.

Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Everything. He's hoarding information about you like you're quantum physics. He has a special hard drive in his chip dedicated to you.

R - Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Chase's favorite moment in your relationship is the moment he realized that you actually want to be with him, not use him, not hurt them like everyone before you did.

It started out the worst day of his life, sharing something personal and vital to the team and watching you keep that secret safe within your heart as if it was your own. Chase cried that night, and not the sad tears he's used to, but happy tears.

S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is insanely protective. Especially with his experiences, he's scared one day something is going to up and take you. Most of the fights you two have had in your relationship is over his protectiveness and the restrictions he can try to apply.

T - Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He's putting just as much effort into you as he does missions. He's meticulous with how perfect they have to be, the slightest thing being wrong freaking him out. They end up being so traditional and romantic you think you're in the worlds cheesiest romcom.

U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Uh, lets see… control freakiness, over protectiveness, trust issues… I could go on, honestly.

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He absolutely cares about his looks, but especially what you think about about them. Chase sees himself as a short, unlovable nerd that no one wants to be around, but you don't so that's very important to him. If you say you like his hair a certain day? His hair magically always looks like that going forward. You like a specific shirt? He’s almost never taking it off. And he's definitely wearing his mission suit when it's not necessary.

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. Absolutely. You’re his entire world. He’d fucking crumble. If you die, he’s living the rest of his life single. He mates for life.

X - Xtra - (A random headcanon for them.)

When he makes scientific discoveries, he’s naming them after you, or something to do with you.

Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

He cannot date someone who’s bad to his family, bashes his interests and nerdiness, or if you’re using him for something. But like stated before, you’d have to be a vile person for him to really hate you.

Z - Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

He’s a light sleeper. With that bionic hearing he has to be. He wakes up the second you leave.

He has nightmares from time to time, so he often has water by his bed to calm him down after waking up from one. But with you in his arms, he rarely has any.

#chase davenport x reader #chase hcs

276 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 10 months

Note

whats one thing that bill loves that absolutely NO ONE wouldve guessed? like not in a TRILLION YEARS cause thats how out-of-pocket it is for him to like said thing???

also love your work <33 :) its one of the very few fanfictions where i can feel the true essence of bill cipher and that is very important to me

Thanks! I've tried to squeeze in as much Bill essence as I can.

"What's the most unexpected thing he likes" depends entirely on what you expect, and I feel like that's subjective. You could argue some of the things he likes in canon are pretty unexpected; while, on the other hand, even the unexpected stuff "makes sense" if you have the reason for it. So here's a list of random things that, while they make sense for Bill, might be surprising if you're trying to think of what would fit the image of an evil chaos party god:

First the canon. I feel like "silly straws" isn't exactly SURPRISING for Bill, but I doubt anyone would have expected him to like them enough to voluntarily bring it up if he hadn't. Like there's a long list of likable things he skipped over specifically to give silly straws a shout out.

Some people headcanon he can't actually play the piano and his little performance for Ford was all magic, but I like to headcanon he actually knows how to play and enjoys it. Which implies an unexpected amount of patience and dedicated practice out of a pretty flighty guy.

I mean I don't think anyone would have assumed that meditation fits his vibe.

Fandom's got a pretty good handle on associating him with brightly-colored busy patterns, but only with traditionally masculine or gender neutral aesthetics. Think bowling alley carpets patterns, lava lamps, Hot Wheels-style paint jobs, fire and lightning and lasers. But there's a tendency to overlook aesthetics that are associated with femininity. He WOULD be into Lisa Frank, decora, intricate neon nail art, magical girls that look like they're wearing hyper-saturated overly-complicated dance outfits covered in 24k gold and jewels as big as your thumb, extravagant hats, extravagant jewelry, girly drinks, girly desserts, glam fashion & decor, bubbles, bouquets, rainbows, and hot pink. To Bill, everything is gender neutral.

I think most people wouldn't expect Bill to be into surreal cerebral art films rather than, like, juvenile slapstick or action. But on the other hand, the line between "this is haunting" and "this is boring" is razor thin for him, so he doesn't always like the cerebral films.

He hasn't discovered this yet but he'd love the beach. Sunshine and swimming. The lake would do too.

I don't think anyone would anticipate that Gravity Falls is, actually, in fact, one of his favorite places in the dimension. He mainly keeps complaining about the town because every time he's there, he's TRAPPED AND CAN'T GET OUT.

He's really into math, just recreationally. He would read a whole book about proving Fermat's Last Theorem. He probably proved the theorem himself by 1700. Told no one. He was just bored that week.

Ford got him into DD&MD. Bill wasn't just humoring his human pawn, he genuinely enjoys it. Gets really into the roleplaying and storytelling. He hasn't had anyone to play with in thirty years. Prefers the 90s edition.

Everyone assumes Bill's just humoring Mabel by letting her put on Color Critters tapes. It's like Care Bears crossed with Rainbow Brite and the morals are twice as heavy-handed. But he actually does enjoy the show, it's just for the wrong reasons.

You'd expect the guy who destroyed his home dimension to hate it. There are books, songs, instruments, cars, plays, hotels, cities, convention centers, dams, field trip destinations, even rocks that he misses dearly and will never see again. He still writes to himself and talks to other shapes in his native language. He still constructs houses without ceilings. He still hugs with one arm and shakes hands sideways. He loves his dead dimension. Few people outside of the other surviving shapes know this.

So you decide which is most unexpected!!

#ask #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

77 notes · View notes

ijustwantogethigh · 2 months

Note

good evening, a request please, from apollo x reader poseidon (the reader is percy's half-sister, she arrived at the camp at the same time as him) the reader danced with the nayades in the river while apollo

He fell in love when he saw her dance (like Poseidon with Host), or when I can write you, there is no pressure or anything, I apologize if it is not understood, I use a translator

HEY ANON! thank you for requesting, I tried, but it was a long time ago since I read a Percy Jackson's book,so it took time bc I re-read the book to be more accurate it's a little OOC, I hope you don't mind,and i put more things to not make it too short so I love u for using the translator thank you!

Poseidon!Daughter reader x Apollo

dam jokes..A lot, Percy's nickname for reader is blobfish, she is 16 and Apollo..Yeah more than 15000 /it's Apollo not Lester my friend/ Apollo nicknames y/n as ASTERI that's star in Greek♥

Sunrise 𝓐pogeum.

It's been two weeks since the Manhattan war ended, and everything was fine, campier doing his chores, some others packing for the next summer ready to go home, he was standing next to Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the new Oracle, now he was complaining her to rest in the spare room in the big house, Rachel was pretty.

but not pretty as y/n, the gorgeous Demigod alive, if she wasn't a Poseidon child, will mistake her as a Aphrodite Daughter, her hair shine with the sun, her brownish-tanned skin, Kissed by the sun, her melodious voice!, he was so down for her, but she still was a demigod, and gods and demigods did not mix together but it is not like Apollo cares right?…right?.

Rachel was resting now, he come back outside, walking through it was the camp, when he saw her, again, the first time both meet, was during the war, she was undoubtedly angry, her hands bloody, and even a big cut in the side of her cheek probably will left a scar, she didn't take care of it, she fought side-to-side with him.

but she didn't even notice, now she was dancing dancing with a group of nayades in the lake, he felt so odd, she moved like swan, she was obviously wet, a beautiful girl,he felt like enchanting her to make her his wife, make her an immortal demigod, he was in love from a demigoddess, the Nayades feeling his predatory gaze against the girl, covers her, and the god leaves, not seeing his girl anymore, he gets bored.

Monday!

But he didn't let it die until this day, he left a poem for her, stick in the back of a mirror, with little seashells on the edge of it, and it was blue.

''In golden rays where shadows play, A sunlit heart beats bold and Bright, He casts his warmth upon the shore, While waves embrace their ancient lore. A daughter of the ocean's grace, With laughter bright, she weaves her space, Her spirit dances in a sea-like swirl, Unknowing of the sun that longs to twirl. He paints the sky with hues of fire, While she swims deep, lost in desire, The tides of dreams pull her away, From the warmth of love that seeks to stay. With every dawn, he rises high, A silent wish, a longing sigh, While she, beneath the azure dome, Knows not the heart that calls her home. In realms of water, air, and light, Two worlds apart, yet spark ignites, For in their depths, a tale unfolds, Of sun and sea, a love untold''

-The mirror is for you, so you can look how pretty you are, and to remind you that with no sun, it's not fun to go to the beach princess. att: 𝓐.

She smirked looking herself in the mirror expecting something, he saw through the distance, well hided, she looked both sides, expecting the stoll brothers to tell her is a weird prank.

but the smirk morphed into a frown, she didn't like those jokes, they were mocking about her appearance? How down!. Until Percy, comes out saying

''why is the door open, close it, I hate those dam fly's!''

''are you just worried about the fly's?''

'' They are mocking about me and you care about dam fly's?''

she says, holding the mirror in her hands, closing the door, keeping the mirror and the beautiful poem.

Does she just miss pretended everything? She was definitely Percy's half sister.

Tuesday?

Through the night, he left a little box with chocolates and cookies with seashell figure, and left a Puka shell necklace with a little sun charm, he was being obvious at this point and he left.

the beginning morning he was talking with helios, helios was kind of angry of seeing the god trying to get a demigoddess,

''hey no, I'm just trying to get her attention, I'll ask her when she is 18''

and the sun god just look bad at him, and he saw her, looking a bit sleepy, face swollen, she tripped with the box, Apollo was dying from anxiety, she picked the blue box up revealing the contend from it.

very pretty and must be delicious cookies and chocolates, WITH SEASHELL FIGURES! She ran inside, waking up Percy, to look at the present his secret admirer sent her

'look! IT'S A DAM DOLPHIN!''

''Blobfish…shut Up.. It's dam 9 o'clock..haha..A dolphin''

-he says sleepy, taking one from the box, eating it sleepy due the hour, he was just not a morning person.

'like..He or she is calling me skinny? Okay that's a big ouch''

The god only pushed his hands into his mouth to not scream from frustration, his princess just didn't understand.

Wednesday…

He was just stressed, this weekend his princess probably is leaving to go back home with her mom this time, he left a bracelet beads kit, and there's was a bracelet made up ''Asteri'' was in the blue, white and yellow beads, she smiled, feeling like a little kid, her mom used to bought her those for Christmas, until she ate one…whatever, And there's was another note.

'aye Asteri, I'm saying the truth, I'll never be mean to some one I love, do not miss pretend everything I do to love you'' att: 𝓐

she felt like faithing,, then it was a guy!, one who was too shy to ask her out, she smiled, and backed up to her cabin to show Percy the new thingy his 'secret boyfriend'' how Percy baptized him, get her.

'so, a Bracelet kit? How old are you, 6?'' ''tf you mean 6? Annie gifted you a sea creature coloring book..'' ''IT'S DIFFERENT, IT'S FOR COLORING!'' ''AND THIS IS FOR FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS! You ain't getting one'' ''Ain't letting you color in ma' book''

Thursday.

He got tired of letting his gifts in the morning, not a morning person either, and this time, she saw her, a little sad. Maybe he influenced her? ''why are you sad y/n?''

ooh OH! Her secret boyfriend didn't appear this morning..So she feels sad, even though she told me she didn't want a boyfrien-'' but she shut him until he finished.

'shut up, if he is a camper he could feel bad and,,uh no, it's not that'' she says, giving her new friendship bracelet to Annabeth.

''Secret boyfriend, what in the world is that?''

she says, whispering thank you, every person that was percy's friend got a friendship bracelet, even nico had one, and Grover, but no Percy.

'like a guy that is not his boyfriend but wants to be, all week has sended her gifts and today no'' he says, coloring in his book while talking, mocking his sisters disgrace.

'maybe yeah, he told me he would never hurt someone he loves, and why disappear in the middle of something!''

''You have the heart of a chicken'' he looked at her, with a serious expression.

And she gasped in horror.

Annabeth, with the Poseidon's kids, walked to the cabin,y/n just wanted Annabeth to see the disaster of cabin Percy had.

until in the stairs of the cabin, a glass box rested covered in some leaves, with …blue Cinnamon rolls?, she screamed like she saw someone eating caviar /it's actually an anecdote/ Annabeth was giggling and fangirling with Y/n.

'HE CAME OMG HE LOVES ME!'' ''YEAH.. Um? HE DOES!'' ''WHY THEY LOOK MUCH MORE EDIBLE WHEN ARE BLUE?!''

Percy screamed to gain the attention. And a new note was attached to the glassbox.

'sorry for making you wait for Asteri, I woke up late, I hope you and your brother like them. Did you think I wouldn't find out if you shared them? Take care Asteri'' att. 𝓐

She screamed, entering again, to share those very delicious Cinnamon rolls with her friends, Apollo, through the dusk of the sun that got from the windows, saw her putting the note, with the other things he had gifted her, it was mere luck she had liked them, it's not like he was giving her random stuff, those are things she liked when she was younger.

Friday

Today she was alone, this time he didn't appear. She gave him time, but he never showed up with a last gift.

She cutted one of the flowers,Percy and Annie give her like a goodbye, putting it in her hair, and, with all her things packed, she was on the lake, looking it, very very sad, it was more like nostalgia.

she was going home, but most of her friends weren't gonna be there, even if Percy told he they can always do Iris call's with Annie, she didn't want to interrupt those calls with his girlfriend.

Leo was staying in the camp,and pipes too. She felt so good, but at the same time sad, the winter was going to last too much, and the summer went like river water. Maybe she was just 16 to think like that, but she was just a girl.

It was dusk, the time when the sun is going down and the sky looks orange, she sigh, when getting up, until a bright like blinded her, in the water was a very, handsome man, golden hair, tanned skin and..Wet clothes, walked towards the water, she wasn't dumb-

'Apollo..?' why are you here?'' Elizabeth was the first to leave before the Manhattan war to his college, she was confused. 'II came for you *my 𝓐steri'' he pronounced, with a big bright smile, giving her a bouquet of sunflowers. She was confused, but more shocked, she grabbed the bouquet, looking at the most pretty sunflowers. ''y-you? You are,,'' she stuttered the words, her throat felt dry, and she got stiff from the panic. ''yes my Asteri, I am the one who has gifted you everything, now I have the brave to show up to you'' ''what I'm supposed to do I-'' ''you do not have to do something, just..Let me be with you, protect you'' ''i know this kind of thing, I can't be with you,, I'm so sorry'' 'don't be, I'm the fool who fell first, but please, let me be at your side..Please, to the time you'd have go, there's no sun, so I'm here to guide you, tomorrow in the morning we leave from here''

He was talking about guiding me to my home? What kind of deal was this? I nodded, and we both just talked in front of the lake, sitting making eachother company.

BONUS

''WOAH you meet him in person?! HE BRIGHTS IN THE DARK?!'' a little golden-brunette haired boy screamed.

''yes, but he is strong too, he used to gift me sunflowers''

''why daddy didn't get mad?''

''well, it's you daddy who gifted me the sunflowers my love''

The kid didn't catch it at first, but he kept eating his blue cinnamon rolls, while both were watching the TV, the sun was coming through its windows, the dusk had already begun.

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #apollo #apollo x reader #fem reader #pjo #oceaniiaistalking #character x reader #percy pjo #percy and annabeth #anabeth chase #i'am so proud of this

42 notes · View notes

ghostlspirit · 1 year

Text

Suffocated

(Male!Yan x gn! Mermaid/Siren Reader)

(part 1)

Masterlist

tw: Yandere, Imprisonment, mentions of cutting you open, Blood, idk I still try to keep things tame

note: Still trying to get comfortable lmao. I know mermay is over but I just had to write this. Exams are over and I can work on stuff now wohoo!! Hope this isn't too long. Happy Pride and I hope you enjoy~

You were a never-before-seen species. A mythical creature, a mermaid, a siren. Gifted with beautiful scales, a luscious tail, and captivating eyes. Every one is mesmerized.

Especially Krish, a researcher and part of the team of caretakers for you. He was also there when they found you, and boy, was that a day to remember. He remembers your open mouth full of sharp teeth trying to bite through the nets, and your voice, oh your voice, letting out screams and hisses as they dragged you up on boat.

He couldn't wait to research you! Who would have thought that a mermaid exists? Who knows how many more are out there, waiting to be discovered. He was beyond curious on your behavior and diet, how intelligent you are and if you understand humans. You must be curious too, Krish know it, you must be curious too, he says, while you look at him with those mesmerizing eyes. You never let him out of your sight, always watching him, hissing when he gets too close. You must be able to remember faces, he notes down in his notebook.

He watches you swim in your aquarium. Because of your size, and the lack of preparation, they opted to letting you stay in a Zoo aquarium for the meantime. Of course, no visitors are allowed here, and all the animals were moved, so you're alone in this...fake ocean, held up inside these glass walls.

You hated it. You hated everything, even yourself. Your mother always told you not to be stupid, not to be foolish and swim too high. Yet you just had to fight with her, argue and rebel, swimming in hopes of a new life, outside of your home. You wanted adventure, taste other seas and swim through different coral reefs. She was always against it, always so cautious and protective. You felt suffocated. What irony you find yourself in. Here you are, fake coral reefs surrounding you in a closed off space, swimming in water that tastes off, and some dammed creature watching you. You feel more suffocated than ever. This isn't what you wanted.

You're scared, terrified even. No tales, stories or warnings could have prepared you for this situation. What are you going to do? How are you going to get out? Will you ever see your mother again? Where even are you? What will they do to you? Are they going to eat you? Do they want your scales, or maybe eyes? You anxiously search for a corner to hide in to collect yourself, away from their gaze, away from his gaze.

Krish notes ever flicker of your tail, ever movement of your arms, everything you observe. You're probably struggling to get comfortable in your environment, is it too bright maybe? Or do you just need time? He has so many questions rushing through his mind, eyes practically shining like a kid opening presents.

The other researchers are just as excited as him, your very existence opening so many doors of possibilities. They have so much planned for you, from taking your measurements to opening you up to explore your insides. Not that Krish is unaware of their plans, he just suggests it would be more beneficial to observe and get to know you before putting you under the mercy of a scalpel. Thank God he has some authority, otherwise he doesn't get to experience your curiosity. Plus, who wouldn’t be more fitted for the task of getting to know you other than him?

Because of your sharp teeth he opts to getting you different kind of fishes, shells, and algae, to guess your preferences. Though for the first few days you seem to refuse to eat. After five days of having to fish out the remains of uneaten food, Krish comes personally to deliver the food at the opening at the top of the tank, in hopes of figuring you out. No, he isn't worried. You’ve been hiding, he is thinking of removing those hiding spots so he can have a better view. But that might make you more stressed, he can’t have that.

Krish has his blond hair in a bun, rain boots on, as he dangles a fish above the waters, occasionally dipping it in to create commotion. “Come one now, I know you’re hungry,” another dip, “It’s alright, you can come out,” he tries to keep his voice soft, as if he’s speaking to a puppy, “I know you want it.” Another few dips and now he’s keeping the fish in the water and swirling it around. Still no response. “You have to eat.” Still nothing. With a sigh he turns around and asks the assistant to dim the lights. He doesn’t notice the hand is still holding the fish under the water. He also doesn’t notice your predatory eyes, glowing in the depths, fixating on the fish.

A second passes, it’s as if time stopped, as you dart out of your spot. Krish turns around in time, and unaware, he meets your captivating eyes, right in front of him in the waters. He doesn’t even register anything else as everything happened so fast, he doesn’t even notice he has let go of the fish. With a quick bite you turn around, your tail splashing water in Krish’s face, as you dart back into your hiding place, fish between your teeth. The fish is leaving a trail of blood, and slowly Krish registers what happened. He blinks, dumbfounded, as your eyes and the sudden rush of adrenalin ignite a flame in him.

Drenched, he lets the voices of the worried assistance become a buzz in his mind. The trail of blood looking like a red string, connecting you both. It’s the proof that grounds his mind, knowing this interaction just happened, as short it might’ve been.

“The lights should stay dimmed”, he frantically scribbles in his notebook, “And order more of that fish.”

We wouldn’t want you to starve now.

#male yandere #yancore #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #original character #yandere male #yandere aesthetic #yanderecore #yandere resercher #mermaid

168 notes · View notes

nerd-cat-rambles · 4 months

Text

Danganronpa Manga Rant- Leon and Sayaka:

@yukiteruakari told me about a Danganronpa Manga edition, and OH MY GOD!!! Thankyou so much for this bro omg.

I'm only up to "Junkos" impaling, but it's so much better than the one I have.

I'll put some screenshots below, and the link too because so far it's translated to English.

Why the Manga is better, what it could do for the fandom:

It gives Sayaka and Leon so much more development as characters and seeing as Mondos case is next we might get to see what they talked about in the sauna. (<- there are so many fan theories for that one, and I'm excited to finally get more lore.)

It's hard to be a Danganronpa fan in 2024 because it all happened 14, 12, and 7 years ago. So like... Spike aren't going to just start explaining more lore on twitter randomly because they feel like it, Danganronpa is done, but this manga helps us understand the killers motive.

If ALL of the fandom read it I'd probably assume the "Mondo Brother Killer >:(" cliche that some of the fandom define him as would be gone, because it has his POV instead of a Monokuma flashback and a shitty animated clip of him doing it "for no reason" other than being "strong-strong-strong-strong-strong" (from the canon game and animation 2014.)

LeoXSaya Rant, Manga>>>Animation:

And yes, Sayaka was revealed to be a bit more of a "snake" (she isn't btw) but her motives were humane and we only thought she wasn't because Makoto is the protagonist and wouldn't think bad about any of his friends.

It also gives Leon haters a reason to stfu and enjoy his character design and small role while it lasts, and it's better than playing his FTEs because he's just gloating about picking up chicks and being better than everybody at Baseball despite hating in from what I've seen.

Also, the art is just BETTER.

The dialogue is just BETTER!

They gave Sayaka a reason to invite Leon over. Because in the anime and game yes it's "wow Sayaka is so hot" on Leons part, but wouldn't that mean Leon would've been the person to invite her to HIS room instead?

But in the Manga they explain her thought process, anybody who hasn't read it will probably just go "Sayaka's dumb for inviting a STAR ATHLETE to try and kill!" but she's smart because if she had killed him she already had an alibi. "We were friends! We bonded over music and drank tea together!" or something... saying that, Sayaka couldn't WIN because Makoto knew about the room swapping ofc. And she'd leave evidence and whatnot.

*Sighs* The Animation Butchered Our Boys...:

(BOYS BECAUSE THE ANIMATION BUTCHERED SO MANY CHARACTERS AND GAVE THEM PISSY MOTIVES AND SHIT-)

I hate the anime alot, but the thing that PISSED ME OFF THE MOST (about 1-1 of the animation) WAS LEON'S REACTION. He was having a mental breakdown, which was fine and accurate... probably good as well instead of him screaming "stupid" then losing it halfway through the word and realising his fate quietly.

They give him a moment of remorse.

"I didn't want to... I mean she... she was tring to... kill me... right? I just... didn't know what else to do... okay...?" (quote end)

but then he gets mad.

I don't know about you, but on first watch this ruined it for me. "He's just screaming now..." like... it makes me mad for almost no reason.

He was about to have a very humane moment of "I didn't have a choice..." he's looking down at the pedestal thingy in the court, he's defeated, he's sad, he's been caught. He's in despair.

Then he yells at the others "you would've done the same thing in my shoes!"

And you know what the writers did instead of making him cry after that? Anything... would've been better, but this is the dam animation we're talking about...

"I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE OKAY! THE CRAZY SKANK WAS GOING TO KILL ME, WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

He did have a choice...

The manga gave him a choice, he tried to save Sayaka. Then he ended up killing her, ON ACCIDENT. That line alone contradicts the fact of any of that happening, he and Sayaka had just bonded hours earlier.

Like, this is my opinion and I've never heard anybody talk about this before, BUT THE WRITERS NEEDED TO WRITE LEON BETTER!!! The game wrote Leon fine, but the animation was a second chance at giving him development!

I liked him trying to escape the court room though. That was a nice touch that I don't think was in the game.

BUT BROOOOO HE CALLED SAYAKA A SKANK HOURS AFTER ADMITTING HE WAS CRUSHING ON HER, DANGANRONPA ANIMATION WHERE'S THE LOGIC!

Like, the scene made me so mad on re-watch and I can't pinpoint why!

Like instead of this: https://youtu.be/CbQ6McYz7U0?t=59

(Good animation though imo, the closeup expressed his emotions nicely-)

HAVE THIS THOUGH, THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER!

IT JUST HITS WAY BETTER-

Anyway, that's my rant of the day because why not.

The game itself had issues, but compared to the animation it was just so much better, and makes me want to give it a 7/10 instead of a 6...

#danganronpa #dr1 #THH #Sayaka Maizono #Leon Kuwata #omg I hate the animation #Is this a fair opinion tho?#It used to be my favourite anime before I played the games-#On rewatch I wanted to throw my laptop to Africa or something #Somewhere so far that i'd never have to watch it again :3 #Manga #Danganronpa the Animation #danganronpa manga

23 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 1 day

Text

Chapter 22: WE TRASH THE ETERNAL CITY

Nico forced himself out from under Will's arm and tried to take an even breath as he took the book. He hated how he still felt as unsure of himself and his creepy death-drawn-to-him abilities as when all of this had started, gods if he could ball up his insecurity and chuck it in that trash he would.

But he couldn't. He could have something he found just as comforting though, and Will did indeed draw him right back to his side and it was always very nice and warm there as he read the new chapter title.

"You would," Jason frowned at Percy. Just Percy.

"It said we!" Percy protested. "Annabeth's probably blown up her own share of national monuments and just hasn't had it on print yet!"

"Yeah, I know," Jason tried hard to resist smiling as he kept his stern look in place, "it's just habit to blame you first."

"It's okay, I don't mind sharing the blame, Athena knows we share everything else," Annabeth chuckled. Jason finally nodded and looked away while Percy grumbled at the two.

The bridge to Olympus was dissolving. We stepped out of the elevator onto the white marble walkway, and immediately cracks appeared at our feet.

Thalia groaned and was more than happy she'd given the book up before she had to read that. The memory in her head of the ground falling from beneath her feet like so many a vivid nightmare had done to her was more than enough without her voice shaking to add to it all!

"Jump!" Grover said, which was easy for him since he's part mountain goat.

"The only ones at camp who can still beat me at the lava wall," Will chuckled. It was a running gag to get newbies to try and beat the slow, shaky legs of satyrs and have to do all the chores as consequences.

"Mmm," Nico said with interest for more insights into Camp as he studied Will's long, nimble fingers that had more calluses than someone who claimed to just sit around reading in the infirmary all day should have. It wouldn't surprise him in the slightest if Will just didn't think it important to mention what else he got up to around there, but Nico certainly wanted to know.

He sprang to the next slab of stone while ours tilted sickeningly.

"Gods, I hate heights!" Thalia yelled as she and I leaped. But Annabeth was in no shape for jumping.

She stumbled and yelled, "Percy!"

Percy felt a glowing sense of pride as he held her hand firmly and she just sighed from exhaustion and leaned against him without a trace of distress for this specific thing happening. It hadn't been a question if he'd catch her. Just a plea for help he'd answered as usual.

Thalia shook her head affectionately at the two. She couldn't even begrudge her little sister that happiness and peace she'd found. She actively tried to hope it might just last long enough Nico could get through this fast enough that whatever had happened to Luke while she'd once again been absent from Annabeth needing her would just pass.

Like that wasn't a wasted wish.

I caught her hand as the pavement fell, crumbling into dust. For a second I thought she was going to pull us both over. Her feet dangled in the open air. Her hand started to slip until I was holding her only by her fingers. Then Grover and Thalia grabbed my legs, and I found extra strength.

Jason had been toying with the winds in his mind, some part of him he didn't yet have full memory of but his muscles did was dusting all of their hair around like a sharp breeze he'd only vaguely been aware of. They stopped with a row of goosebumps for everyone though as he sadly at his sister.

He'd only ever heard of her problems with heights, seen the faces she'd made as an outsider of her life. The part of him that had been wanting to kick up the air and push them all to safety while he floated harmlessly over the void vanished though. She didn't need his help. She was there to keep them alive just like always. Thalia wasn't going to let them fall any more than he would, magic god powers be damned. Or dammed.

Annabeth was not going to fall.

There was something too tight in her grip though. It wasn't uncomfortable for him, but the way her nails dug in, the stress he could feel as he watched those stormy gray eyes glare at the book. Was she picturing that manticore and the sea below?

"I'm not ever going to let you fall," he promised her in surprise she could be doubting that.

"Yeah, I know Percy," she said it like she meant it too, smiling at him, but he could feel something about this was bothering her as she tried to dart her eyes back away.

He jumped up, but not away. She didn't release his arm as she tried to get up too. Instead he spun and was now kneeling before her, knees pressed into the cracked ground. His hands braced themselves on either side of her beanbag, still trying to meet her eyes that wanted to see what he couldn't. "I'm not going to let you fall," he repeated stubbornly.

"I know," her smile was sad, her grip too tight. He didn't understand.

She'd let him fall. She'd been unable to stop it as he fell off the face of the earth. Artemis had to step in to get her back where she belonged beside him.

He watched her silently and she just stared back with that sad smile because her failures were already out loud in every stupid word of this and if he didn't realize it already he would eventually. He'd stick around and not blame her but she needed to hold onto that blame or she'd forget to keep her focus.

"Let's just concentrate on this," she reminded, running her other hand through his hair. She wished Nico would keep reading and distract him.

Stubborn met stubborn for a very long, uncomfortable amount of time as the rest of them exchanged looks wondering if they were supposed to interrupt.

Yeah, Thalia decided. She did need to do that. "If you two don't stop this we're never getting out of here!" She fought hard not to get up and grab the bag of books and whack the pair with it. It would hurt Annabeth more than Percy, but even he might feel it as many as there still were left to go.

It really was like asking which would stop first, the immovable object or the unstoppable force. So they would have been equally surprised no matter who said what.

But it was Percy who leaned back and said, "fine, we'll finish this later," and settled back into his beanbag as if nothing had happened.

Annabeth had no doubts about that. She just knew she could distract him until she made that later set at her own time.

I pulled her up and we lay trembling on the pavement. I didn't realize we had our arms around each other until she suddenly tensed.

"Um, thanks," she muttered.

Annabeth let herself chuckle and whisper to him for at least some answer, "gods, you had your arms around me more this day than ever before. It was what I really needed, and I hated you for distracting me!" She gave him a light swat on said arm.

"Consider it my specialty wise girl," Percy grinned back. She wasn't sure if he meant distracting her, or holding her, but she liked the answer either way.

I tried to say Don't mention it, but it came out as, "Uh duh."

"You were pretty close Percy, only a few syllables off," Magnus told him in pity.

"Reading all of these could only have helped with his annunciation problems," Alex chuckled.

"Keep moving!" Grover tugged my shoulder. We untangled ourselves and sprinted across the sky bridge as more stones disintegrated and fell into oblivion. We made it to the edge of the mountain just as the final section collapsed.

"Maybe next time you decide to nearly die, do it on solid ground," Thalia groaned. She loathed how useless she constantly felt to Annabeth.

"I will pencil that in just for you," Annabeth promised.

Annabeth looked back at the elevator, which was now completely out of reach—a polished set of metal doors hanging in space, attached to nothing, six hundred stories above Manhattan.

Magnus did not like that. Not one little bit. It was horrifying literally, symbolically, and physically to imagine. Just doors floating in space now his cousin could not reach. No turning back, no more magical backup.

"We're marooned," she said. "On our own."

"Blah-ha-ha!" Grover said. "The connection between Olympus and America is dissolving. If it fails—"

"The gods won't move on to another country this time," Thalia said. "This will be the end of Olympus. The final end."

We ran through streets.

"Not away from the danger," Magnus needlessly clarified to no one. "Not towards safety and some magical ex-machina McGuffin! Towards the psycho Titan who could kill you all with a look, blasting you off the ground vanishing beneath your feet!"

"Can you even imagine us doing that?" Thalia smiled in surprise like he'd just told the funniest joke.

"I'd be so hacked off if Grover suggested that," Percy shook his head. "All that crap we did, building up to that! No fight! What was all that training for otherwise?"

"You should cut him some slack guys," Annabeth chuckled, "maybe Percy would have gotten into slightly less trouble if he'd been there to warn us what bad ideas you always have."

"Me?" Percy sighed.

"Don't underestimate your cousin Annabeth," Thalia scoffed, "I think he does it for show half the time now. He's far to indulgent of Percy and Alex's every whim. Have you heard him actually pretending he wouldn't help every step of the way once while freaking out?"

Annabeth smiled in agreement, which grew as Magnus sighed and right in line did not bother to deny that's exactly what he'd do while slumping into the arm of the couch.

Mansions were burning. Statues had been hacked down. Trees in the parks were blasted to splinters. It looked like someone had attacked the city with a giant Weedwacker.

"Was the we not even about Percy and you guys?" Jason asked, still smirking at Percy's put out look for being singled out. "It's already trashed before you even finished stepping foot around there."

"It would be a nice change of pace if so, these stupid things are finally targeting Kronos and Ethan," Percy shrugged without much care.

"Kronos's scythe," I said.

We followed the winding path toward the palace of the gods. I didn't remember the road being so long. Maybe Kronos was making time go slower, or maybe it was just dread slowing me down. The whole mountaintop was in ruins—so many beautiful buildings and gardens gone.

Annabeth couldn't help but grin at him as she told in a weirdly happy tone of voice after all that destruction, "it really hasn't gotten old yet to know what you focused on."

It didn't take a genius, let alone a seaweed brain to grasp she'd been seeing the same as him. He smiled right back. It was always nice to know they were on the same page even without a book between them.

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half.

To say nothing of their shattered, ripped, and broken bodies, Percy shook his head in sorrow. There had been as much ichor on the streets as rubble with as little mercy as had been shown.

Somewhere ahead of us, Kronos's voice roared: "Brick by brick! That was my promise. Tear it down BRICK BY BRICK!"

"That sounds like it would take a really long time though," Alex sounded grudgingly admirable of putting that much patience into something. "I'm surprised really, though I guess he of all of them does have the time to spare."

"Well it wasn't a very well kept promise, just like all of them," Percy rolled his eyes. "I saw plenty of half toppled buildings and bricks standing."

"Guess Hades has something new he can agree with his siblings about," Thalia smiled faintly, "their father is a terrible liar too."

"Hmm, I'm sure he'll be thrilled," Nico chuckled.

A white marble temple with a gold dome suddenly exploded. The dome shot up like the lid of a teapot and shattered into a billion pieces, raining rubble over the city.

"That was a shrine to Artemis," Thalia grumbled. "He'll pay for that."

"As opposed to all the other things he'd done he was just going to get some minor gripes over," Jason asked her mildly.

"Well it's not like the stakes were personal for any other reason," she groused without meeting his eyes. He sighed and quickly let it go.

We were running under the marble archway with the huge statues of Zeus and Hera when the entire mountain groaned, rocking sideways like a boat in a storm.

"Look out!" Grover yelped. The archway crumbled. I looked up in time to see a twenty-ton scowling Hera topple over on us. Annabeth and I would've been flattened, but Thalia shoved us from behind and we landed just out of danger.

"Thalia!" Grover cried.

"When, when it said we-" Jason was suddenly so stark pale in concern the faint tattoo on his lip was the clearest thing on his face.

"Relax, I'm not a ghost haunting Percy or anything," she said with a casual enough smile, but it did little to soothe him or Percy who shuddered in fear right along with him. Gods, if he'd gone into this battle with one of his best friend's deaths hanging over him like this, he'd be as reckless as she'd once accused Luke of being. The light fading from Zoe's eyes would have been the only thing he'd see in her dark blue gaze.

Jason couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe for a moment as he realized she could have died just then and he'd have never met her. He would have gone the entirety of his life never meeting her...he still wasn't sure if that was in his future at all except for this cosmic joke of a room!

"Thank you," Annabeth said all the same, her voice as small and full of warmth as that girl she'd found on the streets.

"Of course," Thalia bobbed her head as if acknowledging she'd given her the extra fries.

Annabeth sighed at once again realizing far to much how alike Percy and Thalia were. Always eager to brush off their own compliments and then worry they hadn't done enough.

When the dust cleared and the mountain stopped rocking, we found her still alive, but her legs were pinned under the statue.

We tried desperately to move it, but it would've taken several Cyclopes.

"Even I wouldn't have protested a team of them showing up right then," Thalia scowled as she fought the urge to rub her legs. She had about as much love for them as Annabeth did just seeing one pop up, but she might have tried to pull a Nobody at minimum or begged for help at worst to get that thing off so she could continue what she started all those years ago...

When we tried to pull Thalia out from under it, she yelled in pain.

"I survive all those battles," she growled, "and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!"

"Hopefully the height of your Greek tragedy?" Nico told her in mild concern, though it did come out as more of a question he at least hoped it for her. She did seem to have found some kind of happy ending with the Hunters in between all this.

"I'll get back to you on that," Thalia scowled at the dark ceiling. She dared not glance at Jason, or hear the Fates laughing in her ear.

"It's Hera," Annabeth said in outrage. "She's had it in for me all year. Her statue would've killed me if you hadn't pushed us away."

Thalia grimaced. "Well, don't just stand there! I'll be fine. Go!"*

We didn't want to leave her, but I could hear Kronos laughing as he approached the hall of the gods.

More buildings exploded.

"We'll be back," I promised.

"I'm not going anywhere," Thalia groaned.

A fireball erupted on the side of the mountain, right near the gates of the palace.

"We've got to run," I said.

"I don't suppose you mean away," Grover murmured hopefully.

I sprinted toward the palace, Annabeth right behind me.

"I was afraid of that," Grover sighed, and clip-clopped after us.

Magnus laughed into the awkward silence their joke had come to pass. Even Jason might not have been able to keep track of how many times that happened and went right over their heads.

He was to busy watching his sister in concern.

Thalia had watched them go feeling gutted, useless. As if she might as well go steal some seeds and plant herself there as a tree for another thousand years as Annabeth had dashed off after Percy with one last lingering look at her, mouthing something. She didn't know what. She didn't want to ask. A promise to save Luke? A promise to kill Kronos once and for all?

She'd struggled under that statue until she couldn't breathe from her burning muscles, hating herself for everything she'd ever done, and feeling a laugh echo in her head from a demigod she'd never met. Hercules might as well have appeared above her though, scolding her for trying to be like him. No child of Zeus should ever hope for more than just getting the chance to grow up, let alone be important enough to have some sort of final say in the lives she'd revolved around.

When she'd finally been dug out, when Luke's body was carried past her, she'd convinced herself she didn't care she hadn't been there. She'd gone back to the Hunters with a sense of peace that it was meant to be this way and she'd played her part as Annabeth and Percy had held hands.

But being back in the thick of this was really thinning out that resolve.

The doors of the palace were big enough to steer a cruise ship through, but they'd been ripped off their hinges and smashed like they weighed nothing. We had to climb over a huge pile of broken stone and twisted metal to get inside.

Kronos stood in the middle of the throne room, his arms wide, staring at the starry ceiling as if taking it all in. His laughter echoed even louder than it had from the pit of Tartarus.

"Which is strange, you think it would have far less of an echo in there. As big as that place is, it's still got to be slightly smaller than Tartarus," Alex offered.

"I should have recorded it," Percy frowned at her, "so I can make you fall asleep listening to it every night."

"What does Chiron take away if he catches you torturing someone?" Magnus asked in mild concern, more worried about other campers than Percy specifically. "Hopefully something worse than desert, right?"

Alex's laugh sounded far to amused. Percy had no idea that would truly be a comical noise compared to her usual dreams.

"Give us a little more credit than that, would you?" Will sighed at his usual theatrics. Any psychos the place had really collected over the years had quickly vanished to Luke's side, and hadn't been seen since.

"Finally!" he bellowed. "The Olympian Council—so proud and mighty. Which seat of power shall I destroy first?"

"Was he actually asking for advice?" Nico asked with a small smirk. He had some opinions.

"No, and I doubt he'd give you a vote. His loss," Annabeth rolled her eyes. She really hoped they'd stop with the jokes soon, this wasn't funny to her.

Ethan Nakamura stood to one side, trying to stay out of the way of his master's scythe. The hearth was almost dead, just a few coals glowing deep in the ashes. Hestia was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Rachel. I hoped she was okay, but I'd seen so much destruction I was afraid to think about it. The Ophiotaurus swam in his water sphere in the far corner of the room, wisely not making a sound, but it wouldn't be long before Kronos noticed him.

"Could Kronos himself sacrifice him?" Magnus shivered in unease. Zoe had only said it would give one power to destroy the gods, there hadn't been a clause mentioning a Titan was exempt.

Nobody answered him, which usually meant yes and nobody wanted to admit it.

Annabeth, Grover, and I stepped forward into the torchlight. Ethan saw us first.

"My lord," he warned.

"He needs to die first, like, seven backstabs ago," Alex said in a deep, guttural voice of anger.

To her surprise though, Percy frowned. He looked like he was fighting back a sigh and just seemed very, very tired. She'd thought he'd be at least wincing in pain over how this victory went down so close at hand, or even pleased he had at least some confirmation at his side those important to him lived through it.

It left her feeling unbalanced what was to come even knowing the outcome.

Kronos turned and smiled through Luke's face. Except for the golden eyes, he looked just the same as he had four years ago when he'd welcomed me into the Hermes cabin. Annabeth made a painful sound in the back of her throat, like someone had just sucker punched her.

Which was a very strange thing to ever exist in Magnus's mind for even a moment. He just imagined Percy's hand coming out of nowhere and snatching that fist away to break someone's arm if someone ever tried while Annabeth wound up to punch back.

"Shall I destroy you first, Jackson?" Kronos asked. "Is that the choice you will make—to fight me and die instead of bowing down? Prophecies never end well, you know."

"I must have a better track record than most," Percy muttered in absent surprise. He gestured to Jason in a subconscious way he must have learned from Rachel, like summoning his accountant. "Right?"

"Going by my numbers, yeah," he agreed. Though only two had been specifically about him, Percy's involvement did seem to be a good mark.

"Luke would fight with a sword," I said. "But I suppose you don't have his skill."

Kronos sneered. His scythe began to change, until he held Luke's old weapon, Backbiter, with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade.

"Why would you want that thing back?" Will asked in concern.

"Mental strategies and such," Percy grinned in his usual doofus way, tapping the side of his head.

Will wasn't fooled. Percy turned to Annabeth and gave her an exaggerated wink before his eyes slid back to the book. Will shifted through his mind for a few moments before he felt he'd landed on some sort of Percy like reason. He was trying to draw Luke out as much as he could. He'd seen the human behind those golden eyes enough times to at least hope he could draw him out.

Next to me, Annabeth gasped like she'd suddenly had an idea. "Percy, the blade!" She unsheathed her knife. "The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."

A broken promise could curse an item, in some myths. It had been a long shot, but Annabeth had rallied with absolute confidence as she'd looked upon her hero for the last time without the tunnel vision of the halo of light surrounding him. Maybe he didn't have to just be a hero to her if she did this right.

It seemed a miracle even Zeus couldn't perform it had all worked out, if not in the way she'd have once wished.

I didn't understand why she was reminding me of that prophecy line right now. It wasn't exactly a morale booster, but before I could say anything, Kronos raised his sword.

"I think this is one of those times where it's allowed for you to shout the answer without completing the sentence!" Alex threw her hands up with a groan.

"I don't judge how your mind works," Annabeth frowned.

Alex still had to sigh and grumble for a moment before letting it go, more eager to get to the answer than complain to her. For now.

"Wait!" Annabeth yelled.

Kronos came at me like a whirlwind.

"I cannot believe he didn't stop to listen to you," Thalia sounded far to sarcastic for her outrage to be real. Annabeth still wished it was. That some part of Luke would have hesitated even after all this.

My instincts took over. I dodged and slashed and rolled, but I felt like I was fighting a hundred swordsmen. Ethan ducked to one side, trying to get behind me until Annabeth intercepted him. They started to fight, but I couldn't focus on how she was doing.

Magnus sure could, he had no problems splitting his attention between wondering how Percy wasn't headless and how his cousin had survived with one entire freaking arm being a hindrance!

I was vaguely aware of Grover playing his reed pipes. The sound filled me with warmth and courage—thoughts of sunlight and a blue sky and a calm meadow, somewhere far away from the war.

Kronos backed me up against the throne of Hephaestus—a huge mechanical La-Z-Boy type thing covered with bronze and silver gears. Kronos slashed, and I managed to jump straight up onto the seat.

"If you're hoping that godly smiting thing redirects, I wouldn't think your luck extends that well," Jason cringed and glanced down at his seat for the first time as if to make sure it wasn't going to start strangling him by association.

"I didn't do it on purpose," but even to Percy's own ears he could hear how useless that would be to the God of the Forge. He definitely didn't think he'd get away with this one for nothing even if he won. Great. Any future hope of getting on a bus without it exploding had probably just vanished too.

Nobody looked twice at Magnus's mouth hanging open Percy had managed to jump that high only on adrenline. It was just another detail in the long list of Percy's fighting feats.

The throne whirred and hummed with secret mechanisms. Defense mode, it warned. Defense mode.

"I would move," Will oh so helpfully pointed out in case Percy had never tried to poke a high-voltage electrical fence before. That would strangle him. Then shock him back to life and kill him again.

"Thanks man, don't know how I got through this without you there," Percy snorted.

That couldn't be good. I jumped straight over Kronos's head as the throne shot tendrils of electricity in all directions. One hit Kronos in the face, arcing down his body and up his sword.

"ARG!" He crumpled to his knees and dropped Backbiter.

At least that got a good round of laughter throughout the room, Nico helpfully adding, "look on the bright side, of all the gods in there, he might be the sole one to thank you for helping him get more ideas of how to weaponize his chair."

"Yeah, just what I always wanted, to help a god figure out more ways to kill me," but Percy was smiling along something had gone right.

Annabeth saw her chance. She kicked Ethan out of the way and charged Kronos. "Luke, listen!"

I wanted to shout at her, to tell her she was crazy for trying to reason with Kronos, but there was no time.

"Literally in this instance," Magnus tried his best to say without an eep in his voice and covering his face like that would do any good to stop the words pouring in.

It was true though, Alex gave him a sad smile. Kronos was sucking up all the time for himself and refusing to share. He'd really been the worst.

Kronos flicked his hand. Annabeth flew backward, slamming into the throne of her mother and crumpling to the floor.

Gods that felt so deliberate, Thalia winced in disgust. She didn't know anymore how aware Luke really was in there, Kronos had been spying on them long enough, either of the personas could have done that to her with a purpose...or no care at all where she landed. She wasn't even entirely sure Athena would recognize which child it was right away to care past the insult.

"Annabeth!" I screamed.

Ethan Nakamura got to his feet. He now stood between Annabeth and me.

The most dangerous place to be, Nico frowned to himself. Nobody could say this guy wasn't brave.

I couldn't fight him without turning my back on Kronos.

The fact that he was in there alone having to deal with this fight was still a ragged edge inside Thalia that made every breath a painful exhale, every new breath feel wasted. Screw the stupid prophecy saying Percy was the only one to stand against this! This had not been an epic tale told around the campfire, but quick hushed words around Camp between the shouts of delight in Kronos being gone and the cries for the dead.

It really wasn't better to have it all inlaid in detail where she couldn't ever escape it again, but a chain she allowed upon her shoulders without regret if it would help Annabeth even a moment later at having to revisit this too.

Grover's music took on a more urgent tune. He moved toward Annabeth, but he couldn't go any faster and keep up the song. Grass grew on the floor of the throne room. Tiny roots crept up between the cracks of the marble stones.

Even among everything else going on, Magnus couldn't help but shiver as Hyperion came back to mind. Grover probably wasn't capable of single-handedly recreating that given past evidence, but he wouldn't put it past the guy to try.

Kronos rose to one knee. His hair smoldered. His face was covered with electrical burns. He reached for his sword, but this time it didn't fly into his hands.

"Nakamura!" he groaned. "Time to prove yourself. You know Jackson's secret weakness. Kill him, and you will have rewards beyond measure."

"The reward of, being killed last?" Alex's voice was disdainful and mocking and something else tied in such a knot it should have sounded only painful.

"He's not going to get to find out," Percy's voice was a cold menace, only tempered because Annabeth was in his arms now, breathing. Alive.

Ethan's eyes dropped to my midsection, and I was sure that he knew. Even if he couldn't kill me himself, all he had to do was tell Kronos. There was no way I could defend myself forever.

"Look around you, Ethan," I said. "The end of the world. Is this the reward you want? Do you really want everything destroyed—the good with the bad? Everything?"

Grover was almost to Annabeth now. The grass thickened on the floor. The roots were almost a foot long, like a stubble of whiskers.

"There is no throne to Nemesis," Ethan muttered. "No throne to my mother."

Will sighed deeply that so many of their worlds problems could have been solved if this had just been able to be solved with a quick lawn chair around the room. The power imbalance wasn't theirs to say, but that didn't mean they should be silenced for voicing it. There just had to be a balance. Percy might have stopped the war, but hearing that only reminded him there were going to be more battles down the road if something didn't change.

"That's right!" Kronos tried to get up, but stumbled. Above his left ear, a patch of blond hair still smoldered.

Jason laughed, a dark noise under his breath. His sister might not be in there to have done the deed, but it felt good all the same to know that chair must have fried his brain for even a split second before the Titan shrugged it off.

"Strike them down! They deserve to suffer."

"You said your mom is the goddess of balance," I reminded him. "The minor gods deserve better, Ethan, but total destruction isn't balance. Kronos doesn't build. He only destroys."

Ethan looked at the sizzling throne of Hephaestus. Grover's music kept playing, and Ethan swayed to it, as if the song were filling him with nostalgia—a wish to see a beautiful day, to be anywhere but here.

His good eye blinked.

Then he charged . . . but not at me.

While Kronos was still on his knees, Ethan brought down his sword on the Titan lord's neck. It should have killed him instantly, but the blade shattered. Ethan fell back, grasping his stomach. A shard of his own blade had ricocheted and pierced his armor.

Annabeth gasped, covering her mouth with her hand on instinct to muffle it. She'd been in white hot pain and pretty out of it, but the moment now replayed in her head in too vivid detail. That could have been her if she'd been given half a chance, if she'd struck out with her knife like she'd wanted to upon seeing him.

Kronos rose unsteadily, towering over his servant. "Treason," he snarled.

Jason wondered if Ethan so flagrantly taking back his once vow had done any good at this point. Had it weakend Kronos in the body he'd constructed of magic and power? Had it made Luke take even a fraction of a stronger hold inside seeing the boy so easily tossed aside as a god would do to him?

Grover's music kept playing, and grass grew around Ethan's body. Ethan stared at me, his face tight with pain.

"Deserve better," he gasped. "If they just . . . had thrones—"

Kronos stomped his foot, and the floor ruptured around Ethan Nakamura. The son of Nemesis fell through a fissure that went straight through the heart of the mountain—straight into open air.

"So much for him." Kronos picked up his sword. "And now for the rest of you."

Percy leaned forward in his seat, that scowl back on his face he'd never admit to. The one they'd first had described upon meeting Ethan back in that arena but had seen numerous times now.

About the same amount of times as Ethan had backstabbed, betrayed, and generally made the wrong decision again, and again.

Yet Percy had gone from shock at such a death, to this.

He would have helped Ethan. He would have offered his hand and pulled him back into that thrown room and gotten him ambrosia and taken him back to Camp after turning that look on Kronos.

Ethan had already lost his eye for his cause. Was this last minute change of heart enough to redeem him? Did he deserve anything else besides this?

Percy clearly thought so.

My only thought was to keep him away from Annabeth.

Jason felt a shaky sigh though, wishing he could stop Nico for a moment to really catch his breath, catch up with the whirlwind of emotions that gave him. He didn't know this guy, it wasn't an unsound guess to say nobody would mourn this loss. He wanted to, he just didn't know anything more on how to do it.

Grover was at her side now. He'd stopped playing and was feeding her ambrosia.

Everywhere Kronos stepped, the roots wrapped around his feet, but Grover had stopped his magic too early. The roots weren't thick or strong enough to do much more than annoy the Titan.

Which Percy was usually all on board with, but maybe now was a good time to hope for something a little stronger so he wouldn't join Ethan.

We fought through the hearth, kicking up coals and sparks. Kronos slashed an armrest off the throne of Ares, which was okay by me, but then he backed me up to my dad's throne.

"Oh, yes," Kronos said. "This one will make fine kindling for my new hearth!"

Our blades clashed in a shower of sparks. He was stronger than me, but for the moment I felt the power of the ocean in my arms. I pushed him back and struck again—slashing Riptide across his breastplate so hard I cut a gash in the Celestial bronze.

He stamped his foot again and time slowed. I tried to attack but I was moving at the speed of a glacier. Kronos backed up leisurely, catching his breath. He examined the gash in his armor while I struggled forward, silently cursing him. He could take all the time-outs he wanted. He could freeze me in place at will.

Will gave a shaky smile, that stupid old joke on his lips, but what he instead said was, "at least you can take all the breaks you want this time around."

Percy nodded with gratitude. The adrenaline, the near constant stress of the past days, hell the past years of his life had not been easy to all be tipped back into his brain a teaspoon at a time. It had felt, strange, but almost better getting to laugh with his friends about the absurdity of it all along the way and not feel like an outcast or alone through so much of it. He could look back on some of those more painful memories with a sense of nostalgia now.

My only hope was that the effort was draining him. If I could wear him down . . .

Magnus winced though at how that would wear Percy down faster than him. Even fighting over a body, Kronos had been raining hell down. Had he even bothered needing to sleep? Eat? But Percy was far more human. It didn't feel possible that could be the downfall of this battle, but could it be?

"It's too late, Percy Jackson," he said. "Behold."

He pointed to the hearth, and the coals glowed. A sheet of white smoke poured from the fire, forming images like an Iris-message.

"I really hope Hestia and Iris band together to at least make him regret using their shtick before he gets thrown back in the pit," Alex grumbled. She was personally imagining him just being trapped in a rainbow bubble he couldn't escape and watching Percy and his friends enjoy the victory party that was soon to follow all of this.

I saw Nico and my parents down on Fifth Avenue, fighting a hopeless battle, ringed in enemies.

It had been bad enough when he'd been in that situation, but being forced to see them doing this without him really was like Kronos had just thrown one of his worst nightmares right into his face with the burning hot coals being the least painful part.

In the background Hades fought from his black chariot, summoning wave after wave of zombies out of the ground, but the forces of the Titan's army seemed just as endless.

And yet Hades's forces had made all the difference, the reason Percy's mom was even alive, Will sighed in relief. Nico would have been overwhelmed trying to keep Percy's parents alive on his own. He couldn't help his thudding heart that had him squeezing Nico's arm again in relief to have him here now. The muscle only went into double time as Nico just grinned back at him.

Meanwhile, Manhattan was being destroyed. Mortals, now fully awake, were running in terror. Cars swerved and crashed.

The scene shifted, and I saw something even more terrifying.

A column of storm was approaching the Hudson River, moving rapidly over the Jersey shore.

Chariots circled it, locked in combat with the creature in the cloud.

The gods attacked. Lightning flashed. Arrows of gold and silver streaked into the cloud like rocket tracers and exploded. Slowly, the cloud ripped apart, and I saw Typhon clearly for the first time.

I knew as long as I lived (which might not be that long) I would never be able to get the image out of my mind. Typhon's head shifted constantly. Every moment he was a different monster, each more horrible than the last. Looking at his face would've driven me insane, so I focused on his body, which wasn't much better. He was humanoid, but his skin reminded me of a meat loaf sandwich that had been in someone's locker all year. He was mottled green, with blisters the size of buildings, and blackened patches from eons of being stuck under a volcano. His hands were human, but with talons like an eagle's. His legs were scaly and reptilian.

"I can see why he and Echidna make the perfect couple though," Nico said snidly.

"I'm back wondering why meatloaf sandwiches keep being mentioned so much." Jason rolled his eyes. "Does Percy's mind ever leave his stomach?"

"Not that I've heard," Thalia agreed.

"The Olympians are giving their final effort." Kronos laughed. "How pathetic."

Zeus threw a thunderbolt from his chariot. The blast lit up the world. I could feel the shock even here on Olympus, but when the dust cleared, Typhon was still standing. He staggered a bit, with a smoking crater on top of his misshapen head, but he roared in anger and kept advancing.

My limbs began to loosen up. Kronos didn't seem to notice. His attention was focused on the fight and his final victory. If I could hold out a few more seconds, and if my dad kept his word . . .

Typhon stepped into the Hudson River and barely sank to midcalf.

The fact that it covered half his foot gave Magnus's mind a weird influx of trying to figure out how to scale this guy in his head. None of it made sense, and he was sitting here listening to a book that had made it all real. This was his life right now.

Now, I thought, imploring the image in the smoke. Please, it has to happen now.

Like a miracle, a conch horn sounded from the smoky picture. The call of the ocean. The call of Poseidon.

Percy's grin was a wild thing. He finally felt like he'd been a part of this battle in a significant way, like he'd been crouched in that muddy water tense and waiting for the order to charge right along with his dad and godly and mermaid family. His dad had really listened to him!

All around Typhon, the Hudson River erupted, churning with forty-foot waves. Out of the water burst a new chariot—this one pulled by massive hippocampi, who swam in air as easily as in water.

"It's been an option to ride Rainbow or Blackjack this whole time?" Magnus yelped.

"I'm going to be chased by a whole herd of animals when I get out of here and it's going to be entirely you's two's fault," Percy sighed as he gestured between him and Alex. Neither looked the slightest bit repentant.

My father, glowing with a blue aura of power, rode a defiant circle around the giant's legs. Poseidon was no longer an old man. He looked like himself again—tan and strong with a black beard.

Jason smiled. He would have loved to have done a whole essay to study on how Poseidon depicted himself not truly on the shape of his realm but the way he perceived it. Now his home was in ruins but he was back to his favorite body. His eyes flickered between Percy and Alex as his hands itched with curiosity to get started.

As he swung his trident, the river responded, making a funnel cloud around the monster.

Nico laughed at having gotten to witness that once with Percy doing the same. The seaweed didn't flow far from the ocean on those ideas.

"No!" Kronos bellowed after a moment of stunned silence. "NO!"

"NOW, MY BRETHREN!" Poseidon's voice was so loud I wasn't sure if I was hearing it from the smoke image or from all the way across town. "STRIKE FOR OLYMPUS!"

Warriors burst out of the river, riding the waves on huge sharks and dragons and sea horses. It was a legion of Cyclopes, and leading them into battle was . . .

"Tyson!" I yelled.

I knew he couldn't hear me, but I stared at him in amazement. He'd magically grown in size. He had to be thirty feet tall, as big as any of his older cousins, and for the first time he was wearing full battle armor.

Annabeth had a hard time wrapping that one around her mind. She'd grown to like Tyson for how much he was like Percy, sweet with a big heart and smarter than most people gave him credit for. To hear of his ruthless size, that he was and could be as vicious as the monster who had once haunted her nightmares as clearly as the furies made it hard to swallow for a few moments even if she knew she'd hug him tight next time she saw him again.

Riding behind him was Briares, the Hundred-Handed One.

All the Cyclopes held huge lengths of black iron chains—big enough to anchor a battleship—with grappling hooks at the ends. They swung them like lassos and began to ensnare Typhon, throwing lines around the creature's legs and arms, using the tide to keep circling, slowly tangling him. Typhon shook and roared and yanked at the chains, pulling some of the Cyclopes off their mounts; but there were too many chains. The sheer weight of the Cyclops battalion began to weigh Typhon down. Poseidon threw his trident and impaled the monster in the throat. Golden blood, immortal ichor, spewed from the wound, making a waterfall taller than a skyscraper. The trident flew back to Poseidon's hand.

It was a strategy worthy of Athena, Percy and Annabeth exchanged grins. The timing was just glorious, the age old trick of just toppling your enemy with their own weight.

The other gods struck with renewed force. Ares rode in and stabbed Typhon in the nose. Artemis shot the monster in the eye with a dozen silver arrows. Apollo shot a blazing volley of arrows and set the monster's loincloth on fire. And Zeus kept pounding the giant with lightning, until finally, slowly, the water rose, wrapping Typhon like a cocoon, and he began to sink under the weight of the chains. Typhon bellowed in agony, thrashing with such force that waves sloshed the Jersey shore, soaking five-story buildings and splashing over the George Washington Bridge—but down he went as my dad opened a special tunnel for him at the bottom of the river—an endless waterslide that would take him straight to Tartarus. The giant's head went under in a seething whirlpool, and he was gone.

"I want to get a raccoon and name him Typhoon now," Alex nodded to herself. She had plenty of options finding them, it was just a matter of picking the right little monster to tame.

"Because that's the first thing someone should think after hearing all that," Percy said in resigned exhaustion to her. At least that should be the worst thing he should ever have to face, he could brush off Alex making light of it since he'd never had to be around that thing in person.

"It will be now," Thalia promised as she rubbed her temples.

"BAH!" Kronos screamed. He slashed his sword through the smoke, tearing the image to shreds.

"They're on their way," I said. "You've lost."

"I haven't even started."

He advanced with blinding speed. Grover—brave, stupid satyr that he was—tried to protect me, but Kronos tossed him aside like a rag doll.

Percy's heart thumped in his chest like it was trying to take the impact for his best friend. Grover had just thrown himself in front of a Titan for him! He didn't know how to even describe to himself how stupid and reckless and impulsive that was any more than how much it meant to him.

"He's our Protector Percy," Annabeth reminded his tense hands, which still held hers. He breathed and brushed his hand through her hair instead. It was all he could do.

I sidestepped and jabbed under Kronos's guard. It was a good trick. Unfortunately, Luke knew it. He countered the strike and disarmed me using one of the first moves he'd ever taught me. My sword skittered across the ground and fell straight into the open fissure.

"STOP!" Annabeth came from nowhere.

Kronos whirled to face her and slashed with Backbiter, but somehow Annabeth caught the strike on her dagger hilt. It was a move only the quickest and most skilled knife fighter could've managed. Don't ask me where she found the strength,

"Funny, because you're the first person I think of where that strength comes from," she whispered gently into his ear.

Percy huffed and wondered if that impact knocked a few columns loose in her head. Brilliant still, of course, but maybe kind of nuts.

but she stepped in closer for leverage, their blades crossed, and for a moment she stood face-to-face with the Titan lord, holding him at a standstill.

"Luke," she said, gritting her teeth, "I understand now. You have to trust me."

Thalia physically bit her tongue to stop herself waving at Annabeth, 'see! You did not Do Fine! You are still talking to that traitor!'

She didn't though because here finally was an answer to a question that had plagued her. How had it worked? No filter, nothing from her sister to glorify this moment. Just Percy finding the right thing to say.

Kronos roared in outrage. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"

I tried to move, but my body was frozen again. How could Annabeth, battered and half dead with exhaustion, have the strength to fight a Titan like Kronos?

Annabeth couldn't help but chuckle at the absurd way he phrased that. It wasn't the kind of strength she'd get by jumping in the Styx. He should know that better than anyone.

Kronos pushed against her, trying to dislodge his blade, but she held him in check, her arms trembling as he forced his sword down toward her neck.

"Your mother," Annabeth grunted. "She saw your fate."

"Service to Kronos!" the Titan roared. "This is my fate."

"The Fate's seem kind of bad at telling the whole story," Nico wanted very much to snap back in his face. He'd never sat around looking for someone to cut a string in front of him, and he wouldn't care now if they did.

"No!" Annabeth insisted. Her eyes were tearing up, but I didn't know if it was from sadness or pain.

Sadness and pain were to light of words for what she'd been crushed with looking into those golden eyes and trying to get through to him. This had been her moment. From the day she'd realized Luke had broken his promise she'd tried to stop this.

And she had.

But she didn't know if the cost would have been worth it to her before this day.

"That's not the end, Luke. The prophecy: she saw what you would do. It applies to you!"

"I will crush you, child!" Kronos bellowed.

"You won't," Annabeth said. "You promised. You're holding Kronos back even now."

"LIES!" Kronos pushed again, and this time Annabeth lost her balance. With his free hand, Kronos struck her face, and she slid backward.

There was a collective wince around the room, the anger and outrage that instinctively went around was heartwarming and something Annabeth had never seen before aside from Percy, all in her name.

I summoned all my will. I managed to rise, but it was like holding the weight of the sky again.

"It's a good thing you got all that practice in," Will nodded. Something about what Nico had said really paying off right now about history repeating itself with Percy. He brought it on himself in this marvelous kind of way.

Kronos loomed over Annabeth, his sword raised.

Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She croaked, "Family, Luke. You promised."

Thalia still couldn't believe what she was hearing with her own ears. How stubborn her sister was for still trying. For thinking that reminding him of this one last time would do any good.

That it had worked.

I took a painful step forward. Grover was back on his feet, over by the throne of Hera, but he seemed to be struggling to move as well. Before either of us could get anywhere close to Annabeth, Kronos staggered.

He stared at the knife in Annabeth's hand, the blood on her face. "Promise."

Then he gasped like he couldn't get air. "Annabeth . . ." But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward like he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding. . . ."

There was a triumphant air about her now that was to hollow to feel like a real victory. She'd done this with nothing. No knife, nothing to snatch out of her bag, no training from Chiron, she couldn't even really attribute this to her mother's wits. She'd just taken a breath and said something to Luke, as herself. That seven year old girl who'd been abandoned at every turn finally got to be heard, and it changed everything.

"My knife." Annabeth tried to raise her dagger, but it clattered out of her hand. Her arm was bent at a funny angle. She looked at me, imploring, "Percy, please . . ."

I could move again.

I surged forward and scooped up her knife. I knocked Backbiter out of Luke's hand, and it spun into the hearth. Luke hardly paid me any attention. He stepped toward Annabeth, but I put myself between him and her.

"Don't touch her," I said.

Percy was starting to get angry at how many times he'd had to say that lately. Annabeth was so strong and usually the one to lead him in the right direction. It was downright strange to have to defend her even when he stepped up to do it without thinking.

Anger rippled across his face. Kronos's voice growled: "Jackson . . ." Was it my imagination, or was his whole body glowing, turning gold?

Percy had been around a few to many gods who liked to burst into their godly form without warning to not know the danger that this came with. He wouldn't even be able to fight Kronos anymore. He would be truly unstoppable.

He gasped again. Luke's voice: "He's changing. Help. He's . . . he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—"

"NO!" Kronos bellowed. He looked around for his sword, but it was in the hearth, glowing among the coals.

He stumbled toward it. I tried to stop him, but he pushed me out of the way with such force I landed next to Annabeth and cracked my head on the base of Athena's throne.

Percy rubbed the back of his head and looked around at his girlfriend with the most exhausted puppy dog eyes. "Think this'll finally get her to cut me some slack? Or did I just dig myself deeper?"

"It's not like you decided which throne to crash into," she chuckled lightly for him, patting the back of his hand.

"The knife, Percy," Annabeth muttered. Her breath was shallow. "Hero . . . cursed blade . . ."

When my vision came back into focus, I saw Kronos grasping his sword. Then he bellowed in pain and dropped it. His hands were smoking and seared. The hearth fire had grown red-hot, like the scythe wasn't compatible with it. I saw an image of Hestia flickering in the ashes, frowning at Kronos with disapproval.

There was a soft but sincere laugh that echoed in the room for several moments. Last Olympian indeed, she'd done more to cripple Kronos with that one disapproving act in her own flames than all the others had done up to this point to thwart him.

Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands. "Please, Percy . . ."

I struggled to my feet. I moved toward him with the knife. I should kill him. That was the plan.

But Percy wasn't a murderer. He never had been. Even in the throws of battle, given chance and again to preemptively strike to protect, he only defended. When he did kill, only dust was left.

Luke was still just human enough, nobody considered he'd go through with it.

So the prophecy could really only end one way now.

Luke seemed to know what I was thinking. He moistened his lips. "You can't . . . can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can . . . can keep him controlled."

He was definitely glowing now, his skin starting to smoke.

Percy had never watched a baby chick crack out of an egg, but he had a bad feeling that's what he was about to see while throwing in a star exploding. There had been translucent cracks under his skin, like something was pulsing and glowing. Like the godly blood they all had inside of them was straining to get out at every pore possible at once.

I raised the knife to strike. Then I looked at Annabeth, at Grover cradling her in his arms, trying to shield her. And I finally understood what she'd been trying to tell me.

You are not the hero, Rachel had said. It will affect what you do.

"Please," Luke groaned. "No time."

If Kronos evolved into his true form, there would be no stopping him. He would make Typhon look like a playground bully.

Which Percy had an abundance of practice dealing with, but even the gods and great prophesies and all the forces in their world didn't mean a matchup could be possible. There would always be a bigger monster in the world, until there wasn't.

The line from the great prophecy echoed in my head: A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. My whole world tipped upside down, and I gave the knife to Luke.

There was still a small part inside of Thalia that resented Percy this moment. Even knowing she never would have done the same, and it would have ended the world as they knew it. She should have been there, even while Percy ignored her to tilt the handle to him.

But, like Luke had used her name in vain, like Annabeth had only needed her for a short time as a crutch, like Percy only needed her for a stepping stone to see what he shouldn't be like, like Artemis needed her to replace Zoe, she'd only been involved long enough to be a vague memory.

Grover yelped. "Percy? Are you . . . um . . ."

Crazy. Insane. Off my rocker. Probably.

Oh I'm sure Grover was going to say something much more colorful than that, Alex shook her head at this guy. Grover had been there for at least a majority of Percy's crazy stunts and this was somehow the most mad as a hatter of them all.

But she wasn't really surprised. It seemed Percy's innate ability to do the right thing for everyone, just like any proper hero from a story should. He was just real enough to be a bit of an idiot in their world to be doing it.

But I watched as Luke grasped the hilt.

I stood before him—defenseless.

He unlatched the side straps of his armor, exposing a small bit of his skin just under his left arm, a place that would be very hard to hit.

Percy waited for the jokes. For the teasing and laughter that Luke had actually used his armpit for his weak spot. Somebody to start making snide comments about worshiping his gut. Something.

There was just a long heavy silence. They'd won. They'd all wanted Luke and Kronos dead. But the moment was here. And there was just silence.

With difficulty, he stabbed himself.

It wasn't a deep cut, but Luke howled. His eyes glowed like lava. The throne room shook, throwing me off my feet.

Again. Jason could never turn off that part of himself, but he just blinked a few times as he held it back. Percy had been thrown off his feet three times in that thrown room.

He couldn't wait to find out what kind of patterns he'd find in his own past.

An aura of energy surrounded Luke, growing brighter and brighter. I shut my eyes and felt a force like a nuclear explosion blister my skin and crack my lips.

It was silent for a long time.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Luke sprawled at the hearth. On the floor around him was a blackened circle of ash. Kronos's scythe had liquefied into molten metal and was trickling into the coals of the hearth, which now glowed like a blacksmith's furnace.

Luke's left side was bloody. His eyes were open—blue eyes, the way they used to be. His breath was a deep rattle.

"Good . . . blade," he croaked.

Annabeth finally broke down in tears. She'd been trying so hard not to. She'd known this was coming and it felt silly and ridiculous but she couldn't stop the sob that shook loose and the hot feeling pouring out.

Thalia watched Percy gather her as tight to his chest as she could, her arms wrapping around his throat and pulling herself closer still. She'd never told the story of how Luke had come into the possession of it nor its even more sordid past with Apollo. She should though. She could see the questions and the hunger in more than just Jason.

Maybe when they got out of here though. These dark halls and corridors they couldn't leave were full of to many shadows.

I knelt next to him. Annabeth limped over with Grover's support. They both had tears in their eyes.

Luke gazed at Annabeth. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew . . ."

"Shhh." Her voice trembled. "You were a hero at the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium."

He shook his head weakly. "Think . . . rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."

Annabeth sniffled. "You always pushed yourself too hard."

"Oh, is that what he was doing this whole time? I always knew over achievers were the worst," Percy grinned at the one in his arms.

She coughed on a laugh and kissed his neck as she tried to convince herself to stop crying. The secure feeling of being in his arms was helping with that a lot.

He held up his charred hand. Annabeth touched his fingertips.

"Did you . . ." Luke coughed and his lips glistened red. "Did you love me?"**

Yes and no, no and yes. It depended on the way he meant love, it depended on what Percy had said to her within the hour, it depended on what year of her life he meant. Gods, if she'd been able to freeze time to this moment she still didn't know how she would have given him a better answer.

Annabeth wiped her tears away. "There was a time I thought . . . well, I thought . . ." She looked at me, like she was drinking in the fact that I was still here. And I realized I was doing the same thing. The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.

Nico fought the urge to surround himself with shadows so he could groan and vomit in peace for just a moment. He really hoped those two were done being the most sickeningly in love people. It was old.

"You were like a brother to me, Luke," she said softly. "But I didn't love you."

Annabeth rubbed at her flushed cheeks and was unsurprised to see it didn't look like the others believed her. She'd probably come across to all of them in her absence as some love sick princess not to be taken seriously. She grimaced though at the alternative of trying to justify herself and no one listening to her either, possibly not even Percy depending on how strong his crush had really been through all this.

He nodded, as if he'd expected it. He winced in pain.

"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can—"

"Grover," Luke gulped. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing. . . ."

Another cough.

He gripped my sleeve, and I could feel the heat of his skin like a fire. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it . . . Don't let it happen again."

His eyes were angry, but pleading too.

"I won't," I said. "I promise."

Luke nodded, and his hand went slack.

It meant something to Will that his last words were for others. The ones at Camp who hadn't fallen into complacency at their lot in life. Luke had gone about fixing it in the wrong way, but then, if he'd never done all of this, who ever would have figured out if there was another way to do it?

The gods arrived a few minutes later in their full war regalia, thundering into the throne room and expecting a battle.

"And not a single one of them even flinched," Alex muttered without surprise, elbows digging into her legs, head resting on her palms as she watched in jittery anticipation for Will's turn, for the real fall out of how the gods were going to act to all this. Sweep it under the rug? Try to just throw another party and move on like nothing had happened? The real story ended when the dust settled.

What they found were Annabeth, Grover, and me standing over the body of a broken half-blood, in the dim warm light of the hearth.

"Percy," my father called, awe in his voice. "What . . . what is this?"

I turned and faced the Olympians.

"We need a shroud," I announced, my voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes."

Jason could see that Nico was done. That this final page of Luke's life was at an end as he cradled the book and whispered something only Will heard. The son of Apollo gave him a rogue smile and whispered something back Jason didn't have a care to listen to, eyes on his sister.

He'd felt out of place here since the beginning. Mismatched. Alone. Everyone in here had someone they could relate to, even Magnus who'd thought himself a mortal had come in with one of his best friends and quickly found a companion in Alex.

Thalia should have been that for him. Instead, she'd been at Percy's side, keeping him out, at arm's length.

So he snatched up his beanbag and dragged it back to where it had once been without question and plopped back down beside her. One of them had to deal with this eventually and he didn't feel like waiting and hoping for a miracle from their dad for it to happen.

She jumped. Thalia Grace jumped. He'd startled her, and he grinned as her red-rimmed eyes narrowed on him and she had a wicked hunting knife in her hand he was not afraid of.

Nobody said anything more as Will took the book.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

*I will never forgive RR how he ROBBED Thalia of her resolution of being in that room with them. He really couldn't have come up with any better way for Hera to get her last lick in at Annabeth for this?!

And I haven't even gotten Started on Jason.

Is this some divine joke about ignoring Zeus's children in the narrative, or does he secretly have a grudge against the Grace children for personal reasons!?

Regardless, the majority of this fic has been soothing my teenage constipation of emotions of this topic, and I hope you've been enjoying the ride as much as I have writing it.

So, I'm already working on a draft for the next chapter because I'm so excited to almost be done with this, and I have a question for you all. What do you think Percy wished for before Zeus offered him immortality? We never get any moment in the series before this of Percy longingly thinking of Something he couldn't achieve-ably have that Zeus would even grant him before Luke died. I toyed with him wanting to gift his mom something, but A) the point of the first book was she didn't need Percy's help and that feels regressive for that to be Percy's first thought, and B) He is well aware that any gift a god gave him would come with some sort of kick-back price and he'd never put that on his mom so I'm stewing on ideas I'd love to hear from you guys.

**Ah the most controversial moment in this entire series. When I first read this I wasn't clear on how much older than Annabeth Luke was, I thought him like, seveteen to their fifteen so middle school me who already had a distinct lack of care in relationships just read right past this moment without thinking twice on it.

This series just didn't have much of an impact on my life except fondly remembering how it made me laugh in class with friends. I hadn't reread it in many years before deciding to do this series.

Now you can read back on this moment two different ways. RR is notoriously poor at cannon, changing it between series and sometimes books. You can imagine Luke whatever age you want to make this less creepy.

Or you can be one of the amount of people who send me comments saying Luke was a creepy creeper creep who groomed Annabeth and fell in love with a seven year old the second he met her at fourteen.

Regardless of your opinion on a piece of fiction, let's all just take a step back and appreciate that this story did have an impact on so many for the good of getting us into looking at other cultures and history. That's how I chose to look at it.

Hope you enjoyed.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #Annabeth chase #percabeth #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #alex fierro #magnus chase #fierrochase #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo

9 notes · View notes

echantedtoon · 7 months

Text

A Little Care

Boris was always a wild card. Sometimes he never even took care of himself until Alice stepped in.

That plan needed finishing. It was the only reason he got himself to get out of the godforsaken bed he was comfortable in. He felt terrible, like he couldn't keep anything in his stomach, everything was too hot, too dizzy. Too.....Sickly. By god was he sick!?...He shook that off rather quickly. Didn't matter. Work was needed. Work was the thing winning today and if he crashed off the road of sanity so be it. He might've already been losing it anyways with how much he was coughing and how sore his throat felt. He might as well been one of the walking dead as his body spun between heavy and lightheaded with how he looked. Wheezes and coughs were what came out of him and the only language he spoke right now was lack of no sleep and 'I need coffee'-nese, and he didn't even LIKE coffee. He winced as his sore throat throbbed and suppressed the urge to cough as it would only hurt more. Darnit he just had to get to the dam kitchen area. He KNEW he should've stayed in bed that day...but he had a lot planned today today and he was so close to being done. All he had to do was finish up a few things around Gowland's amusement park for him then he can bother Pierce some more. He knew if he just got enough caffeine he'd be able to make one more day and finish. He tensed in pain from his chest as he coughed a little, face scrunched up. DAngIT!! He LOATHED being sick Hated anyone around him being sick....Speaking of which where the heck was everyone? It was unusually quiet for Alice's home in the middle of the day. He sniffled again, slumped footsteps echoing out what he perceived to be the entire empty room as his runny nose got the the better of him.

Wow...He really did have a cold didn't he?

"ACHOO- ow." The body of the man shook as the sounds of a sneeze echoed through the entire place and if it weren't for his hand quickly latching onto a doorway he was passing, he would've suffered more than just stumbling and landing into the wall...he let out a whimper from his sore throat and head that the sneeze made throb. His tail lashing in annoyance making the fish piercing clank on its end. Huh....It was weird she hadn't asked him if he was ok' by this point. He scowled. Whatever. If everyone was out doing something he couldn't care less. Right now he had more important things to attend to, like getting his butt awake and figuring out if he wanted to dunk his head in cold water (probably not as he generally hated water being a cat) or just see how coffee worked out for him. Another sneeze wracked his body resulted in more scratchy voiced whimpers and mumbles as he walked his way somehow into the kitchen with his blurry vision and spinning head. The cold tiled floor sent a shiver down his swaying form- "ACHOO!!" He stumbled and threw his hands out thankfully grabbing onto the counter, gradually pulling himself along towards the upper cabinets above the Alice's kitchen sink. He reached up a hand and felt around for any spare cups of hers lying around. Sniffling as he did light headed. Eventually his hand wrapped around a simple white mug and he was able to easier reach it with his slumped body against the counter. ".......ACHOO!!" He shook his head and sniffled. Man he hated having a cold-

"Boris?"

A glass shattering rang from the sink as porcelain mug pieces scattered about in her kitchen's metal sink. Feet stumbled and at long last he was too slow to reach for the counter instead tumbling to the floor with a thud and sore heap as he laid there...Head spinning. Whimpering. Body sore...and only a cough escaped the sore throat causing more whimpers and sniffles. Footsteps approached but he could only weakly shake. GOD! He felt like almost crying-

"AH!! DONT TOUCH DONT TOUCH!! ACHOO!!" He rasped out in a croaky voice that sounded like he was smoking for fifty years as a white flash of pain passed over when when two hands grabbed his side out of nowhere all of a sudden, his head slumping as the headache throbbed again from another sneeze. Ears going to flat flat on his head.

"What's wrong with you!? Are you ok!?," a girl's voice sounded above him and he winced from the loud volume, "BORIS! Answer me you hairball! "Her answer? ANother loud sneeze making him whimper and curl in on himself on himself even more and she leaned back a bit before groaning. "Of all the things you can get yourself into you get yourself sick?!"

Hey. That voice sounded familiar. He turned his head slightly up and his vision was too blurry to make out who it was but he had a good idea of who it was. ".....A-Alice?"

"Yeah, it's me." She groaned shaking her head. "Are you so wreckless that you make yourself sick?"

"Is not my f-f-fa- AHCOO!" Alice quickly leaned away as he coughed and sniffled again from the sneeze. "F-Fault..*sniff*...W-Where is everyone?"

She made a cringe face and stared down at his weak form. "No one's visiting me today other than you just letting yourself in again."

"M-Must've s-slipped my mind. I-...I-I-AHCHOO!!" He whimpered again and curled in on himself until he was in a pained ball. ".....I hurt...."

Her whole demeanor immediately softened as she watched him wriggled on the ground clutching his stomach as he did sniffling. Her hands coming to hover over his body but not touching him due to his past reaction. "Are you ok?!..Can you get up?"

"ACHOO!!....*sniff*" He gave a small hopeful nod to her as the swimming/light headed/spinning feeling intensified and forced him to close his eyes as tears brought him up to the for front. He couldn't act like a wimp in front of her. SO whimpers aside he began to push himself up, stumbling and leaning more and more against the counter as his arms shook fumbling around for purchase against the cold tiled floor. A worried and annoyed feeling coming over himself as Alice didn't move from her spot, as if afraid he'd fall over- "ACHOO!!" His chest let a large pang of pain as he started coughing up again- "AH-" His legs gave out as he doubled over, in a bent over position, one hand gripping the counter and the other covering his mouth as the coughs kept coming and his body lit ablaze with hellfire! He couldn't stop! It was too much! Dear god make it stop! Black clouded in-

"BORIS!!"

......

...........

......................Well THAT could've gone better.

In panic, Alice did the only she could've done at that moment. Go get help! Luckily Dee and Dum hadn't been too far away and was quick to get Boris's unconscious form to a doctor quickly and find out what was really wrong with him. He was sick and exhausted with a fever and runny nose. Well it was a relief to her at least, and not too long after the wreckless furrball was carried back into her home and half woke up enough to blow his nose and take whatever medicine was given to him before clonking out again. While relieved, she was still worried so decided to stick around. Not like she had any plans for the day anyways. Which turned into her just reading and checking on him every few minutes...which became every one minute for the past hour still finding him fast asleep under the blankets where she left him. ......He looked cold. She'll go get a blanket after a lil bit....Which in reality was five minutes. Hesitant steps came down the hallway back down towards the bedroom. A blanket resting under one arm. The footsteps soon stopped in front of one door on the right and the boy paused. It took a moment before he was able to reach a hand up to knock on the door.

"Boris?", a voice forced out almost a whisper. No one answered so she knocked again a bit louder. ...Still nothing. So she gently grabbed ahold of the door knob and turned. "Boris? I-I brought an extra blanket-....Oh."

The dark room made it hard to see but she could make out the sleeping figure over in the corner. His chest rose and fell slowly in his sleep and a smile was present on his sleeping face. SHe hesitated for a moment, but decided it was best to keep her silent promise of getting him the extra blanket. So slowly stepping in she gently closed the door behind her with a soft click- She froze when he made a groaning noise but he didnt wake up, only buried his head halfway under the blanket. SHe sighed in relief before silently walking up to the bed, taking the blanket in both hands she flung it out. Then over the bed in the air. It gently floated down until it draped over his sleeping form. SHe stared down at the sleeping form of her friend for a moment, before gently smoothing the wrinkles out from the covers-

".....Alice?"

She froze. .....Slowly her eyes shifted up towards the bedframe. A pair of eyes blinked back up sleepily at her, wild purple bed head around his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh. I..Uh-" SHe quickly pulled himself away from the bed embarrassed and cleared her throat. Finger twirling around one of her locks of hair. "I-I-I was just delivering t-the blanket cuz you're sick and I t-thought i-it might help. *ahem* ....I-Im sorry if I woke you."

he blinked at her for a moment, before shifting his eyes down to his body. Indeed a new blanket was over his. ....He then looked back to her with a smile that made her heart skip a beat.

"It's ok. I don't mind. S-Sorry I fell b-b-back there...Must've been e-embarrassing."

"I- uh-.....N-NO! Of course not. You w-were just sick. It happens." God he could feel her cheeks growing more pink by the second. His amused eyes and smiled always seemed to make her forgive the doofus faster. Luckily he new exactly what to do- "W-Well I-I-Ill let you get back to sleep-" SHe froze when something grabbed her hand. SHe soon found out what when Boris now slightly sitting up in bed pulled her back a little more.

"Um- Hey. W-Would you mind if we-..." His eyes shifted to the side. Wait. Did he sound nervous? "Cu-.. Cuddle? Y-Y'know. J-Just as friends! I-Im s-still pretty cold from laying on the floor and I thought- ..."

"Uuuuhh-" Her eyes went back to them still holding hands.

" I-I mean. I-Its ok if y-you don't want to. " he let go of his hand-

"What?! NO NO!" he froze when she regrabbed her hand and looked back into his eyes. He seemed to freeze for a moment himself. "I-....I mean I d-don't mind it. I just...Im not sure if you would want to."

...he smiled. "Well I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't ok."

"Oh. W-Well...Who am I t-t-to deny a request from you...b-but you better not get me sick?"

He chuckled. "I make n-no promises."

he smiled again, before shifting over to make room for another, patting the spot next to him. SHe hesitated for a moment but gulped down what worries she had left and slowly lifted the blankets, before climbing in. He sat there for a moment un sure, but his face lit up like a million christmas lights when he felt Alice reassuringly huddle up against his side. He swallowed, hard, before allowing himself to lay back and lay a shaking arm around her his tail giving a happy flick. In response she shifted to lay into him more and sighed in comfort.

".....ACHOO!!"

"DANGIT BORIS!!"

#heart no kuni no alice #boris airay #Boris x Alice #Boris Airay x Alice Liddell #alice liddell #heart no kuno no Alice Boris Airay

16 notes · View notes

darkworkcourier · 5 months

Text

Hi, hello, I decided to be stupidly self-indulgent and write my Courier/Cooper Howard. I guess it's an AU in the sense that I'm writing this under the No Gods, No Masters ending of FNV? Mr. House whomst.

---

All these years on, Cooper still hates Vegas.

He did some work in there—movie scenes, photo ops, theater releases. Casinos used to pay people like him just to show up, to draw in big crowds eager to gamble alongside the stars. He'd throw down a couple dollars on a blackjack table or at the roulette wheel, then make a beeline for the buffet when his time was up. He never had time to go sightseeing in the Mojave, to gaze down the long concrete throat of Hoover Dam, to catch all the sunset colors at Red Rock Canyon.

He flew in and out, and felt dirty all the while.

Knowing what he does about fellas like Robert House, he feels a particular kind of dirty again as New Vegas wavers like a mirage on the horizon. He's passed through before, following bounties through NCR checkpoints and around Legion patrols back when those bastards still crawled like red mites through the canyons and gullies.

This time is no different. A bounty on a would-be gunslinger who put a bullet into a brahmin baron's son during a bar fight. His trail's easy to follow, as all Cooper has to do is the world's longest bar crawl and ask after a shaken-up little shit in a mouse-colored duster. Same color as his coward hide, Cooper says.

His route takes him to a little outpost called Goodsprings. It's quaint in the way that Wasteland towns usually are—just people trying to keep their heads down and still attached to their necks. They must see ghouls aplenty, as everyone from the bighorner rancher to the bartender doesn't so much as bat an eye at the sight of him.

The bartender in particular is his favorite kind of person. The only question she asks is what he'll be drinking, and then she slides him a shot of whiskey and the rest of the bottle.

"Good for the caps?" she asks.

He nods, knuckles the brim of his hat as extra confirmation. "Much obliged, ma'am."

She scoffs with a smile. "Heavens to betsy, but you're polite. Oughta teach some of our other menfolk 'round here to mind their manners."

"It's a dyin' art," he agrees.

She goes back to wiping out chipped glasses with a rag that probably gets them dirtier than not. As she does, the saloon door opens with a low, throaty creak, getting both of their attentions.

The bartender coughs out a laugh. "Been a minute since you darkened our doorway, honey," she says.

Cooper glances over his shoulder to the visitor, burned-up brows rising in surprise. On one hand, she's a Wasteland special—.308 rifle slung over her shoulder, tan face windburnt on the cheeks, aged brahmin leather rucksack over her shoulder practically busting at the seams with supplies. At a glance, he can't tell if she's a scavver, caravaneer, or mercenary—maybe all three.

But on the other hand, he doesn't see women like her all that often. She's probably in her late 30s or so, although he's absolutely shit at guessing ages these days. A pair of aviator sunglasses rest on top of her head—hair blue-black and tied back—like she's a movie star at poolside. And, hell, the rest of her looks that way, too. If it weren't for all the hallmarks of a life lived out in the wastes, she'd fit right in to his best Hollywood memories. Boxed at the edges, sure, but pretty as all get out.

He doesn't often bitch about being a ghoul, but seeing girls like her out in the wastes really makes him kick himself over getting irradiated.

"Trudy," she greets, sliding onto the stool beside him easy as pie. Like the rest of the town, she doesn't so much as blink at him. "How're things?"

"Just dandy," the bartender replies, sliding a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla, of all things, across the bar top. "How's Vegas?"

The woman snorts as she opens the bottle, sliding the cap into one of her many pockets. "Same as always. Loud. Full of people with more money than brains. I needed a vacation."

"Well, you know you're always welcome," Trudy says, reaching across the bar to pat the woman on the arm. "Now, Sunny'd kill me right dead if I didn't tell her you were in town. I'm gonna hop out back an' let her know, if that's alright."

"Sure," the woman replies. She grins, a little pinch appearing at the bridge of her nose. "Me an' tall, dark, and ghoulish'll keep an eye out for any ruffians."

And just like they've been friends for decades, the woman gently elbows him in the bicep. If it were anyone else, or anywhere else, he might take a little offense. But it's not often that any gal quite like her even touches him, and this town is nice. So he just smiles and nods, good as anything.

"Of course, ma'am," he says, touching the brim of his hat again. "Do what you gotta do."

"Much obliged," she says, echoing him. She looks back to the woman. "Lizzie, you be nice to this fella."

"Always!"

Trudy heads out from behind the bar, leaving Cooper with her—Lizzie. He watches her take a long drink of her sarsaparilla, following the line of her throat, the faint bob as she swallows. She's still got sweat clinging to her skin from the desert heat, but he can also see freckles on her bare shoulders and her cheeks. If he still had the network of blood vessels to get warm in the face, he thinks he might just.

Lizzie sets her drink down and turns to look right back at him. Not at all put off by his stares. She's all smiles, eyes crinkling with crow's feet at the corners. "See somethin' you like, cowboy?" she asks.

Flirting right out the goddamn gate. It doesn't sound like a joke coming from her, which takes him by surprise.

But it's just as easy to fall into a role.

"Suppose'n I do," he replies. "If you're into irradiated fellas, that is."

She breaks into a laugh, which he almost thinks is at his expense until she follows it up. "Cariño, I'm mostly into people who click the Geiger counter," she says, all matter of fact.

Color him surprised again. "S' that so?"

Lizzie leans over the top of the bar, elbow on the top, chin resting in her palm. Her grin's as wide and content as a cat. "I got a track record, won't lie," she says. "Y'know there's a dominatrix ghoul in Freeside?"

He didn't, but that's a fact he's going to be rolling around in the ol' decrepit gray matter for a while. "Huh," is all he says before taking a shot.

"If you tell her Lizzie Holliday sent you, she might give you a discount."

"I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart."

The nickname seems to make her preen, and she takes another drink like she's fortifying herself. She sets it back down, then gives him a long once-over that almost makes him self-conscious.

Almost.

"Wanna get out of here?" she asks.

"Ain't you got a friend wantin' to visit?"

This time, her smile shows some teeth. One of her top incisors is chipped, and some deep-set part of Cooper that still wants supplies the thought that he ought to test how that tooth feels on his own tongue.

"She knows my priorities," Lizzie says.

And that's all the invitation Cooper needs.

---

Holy-good-goddamn, but he missed this.

Lizzie's riding him like he's the last train out of Yuma, rolling her hips over his, hands braced on his shoulders with a grip that would hurt someone with more nerve endings. Her hair's out of its ponytail, messed up one one side where he raked his hand through it while she was sucking his cock earlier.

And holy shit did she have some technique. He doesn't have a reason to doubt that she's fucked ghouls before, since she put just enough pressure on all the right parts so that he could feel it. And not once did she shy away from him once his clothes were on the floor and he was sprawled out on her bed.

Her bed, in a converted ranch home that she's made positively cozy. He feels like a teenager sneaking in through the window, out of place amongst the artwork and Christmas lights and tchotchkes. He could almost put himself two centuries back, in some college girl's over-decorated dorm room.

But sorority girls don't have deathclaw skulls mounted over their dressers.

Lizzie suddenly catches him on an upward thrust that makes both of them hiss. Then she seats herself flush against him, and it's the closest to heaven he's probably going to get for the kind of bastard he is. She's warm, slick-wet around him and for him. Hazel eyes blown wide and cheeks dark with arousal. It's the first time in years he's felt wanted like this; like he's something worth wanting rather than the irradiated husk of a man.

Another thrust and she shudders, muttering in Spanish and squeezing her eyes shut.

He doesn't catch what she says, but he can't help a little self-deprecation for the road. "If you gotta pretend I'm someone else, by all means."

She swears—and that doesn't need a translation—before her eyes are open and fixed on him. "Give me a name to start moanin' and there won't be any confusion," she says, rolling her hips to punctuate it.

"Jesus Christ," he says through his teeth.

"I'm not callin' you that."

He wouldn't normally offer up his name to anyone not worth knowing he was a human once, but she's something different. He knows that the way the wind blows, he'll likely never see her again, but he'll keep the memory of her tucked nice and close for those lonely, long nights.

"Cooper," he says at last.

She smiles, eyes reflecting those ridiculous rainbow lights strung up around her bedroom. Something about her feels otherworldly, powerful. Either he's already in some weird endorphin-induced haze, or he's more into her than he thought.

"Cooper," she repeats. It's easy and warm as sunshine in her mouth, and he wants to hear it again. He bucks his hips for her, driving up into that heat, eager to get a gasp, a whisper—anything.

And she delivers. Leaning over, tits pressed to his chest, mouth by one of his scarred-up ears, she says his name over and over. Follows the rhythm of his thrusts, loses the syllables as he pushes her over the edge. His name is unstrung, a thread caught in her moans and keens. Then she's pushed to open-mouthed silence, riding it out in desperate asyncopation.

When she finally comes down, he's on the way up. She's clinging to his shoulders still, their chests pressed together, her heartbeat a riot of rhythm rushing through his chest.

Then her mouth goes back to his ear.

"It's Adelita," she says, sighs. "Lizzie to everyone else. Adelita to you."

It's a hell of a trade—a name for a name, a release for a god-fucking-blessed release. He comes harder than he has in years, her name warm on his tongue. He fucks into her, pulsing, filling her, earning another gasp and moan wrapped around his name.

When it's all done, she rolls off him onto her back, chest heaving for breath. He's wheezing for his through rotten lungs. But he watches her, the colors of the lights on her freckled skin and in her eyes, the tresses of her hair falling across her sweat-damp forehead, the scar—

His eyes catch on it. Two interlinked starbursts of scar tissue on the right side of her forehead.

Bullet wounds.

He reaches up to push her hair away from it, pads of his fingers brushing over her skin so that he can almost fool himself into thinking he can feel it. "Looks like there's a story up here," he says. Maybe jokes.

She's still smiling. A little weary, a little amused. "That's my hard reset," she says.

"Oh?"

His hand's still on the scar, and she reaches up to tap the back of his hand twice. Tap-tap, in hard sequence. "Two little 9mm bites," she explains. "Sent me into an early grave."

Cooper frowns, looks at her hand now resting on his, both pressed to her forehead. Now that he's looking, he can also see a faint, hair-thin scar that follows her scalp line all the way across. This girl's got some history.

"I gather that it didn't take," he replies.

Lizzie—Adelita—hums to herself, then sings, "There ain't no grave can hold my body down," before looking up at him. "I did get better."

"I see that. So, either you're the prettiest ghoul that done walked the wastes, or the Mojave's got better doctors than I thought."

"The latter," she confirms. "Myself included."

"No shit?"

Her dark brows rise, grin plain on her face. "Doc Holliday. Get it?"

The joke catches him by surprise, again. A lot of shit about this girl is a surprise. It pries a laugh out of him, then earns a few strokes through her hair. "That's good," he says. "That's real good."

"Gracias."

They lay there in a shockingly comfortable silence. His hand in her hair, combing the strands back and away from that scar. She leans up against him, eyes half-lidded, a dreamy expression on her face.

Then, she sighs, "This is already a damn good vacation."

"Glad I could contribute," Cooper says. "High-stress job?"

She sighs, blinks slow, then reaches up and rests an arm across his waist. "You have no idea," she says.

Curiosity gets the best of him. He's a man who appreciates people keeping their noses—or lack thereof—out of his business. However, he's also a bounty hunter, a man making his too-long living on asking the right questions and using those answers to his benefit down the road. It might be good to know something about her, to make connections, to network as some assholes in his past life might say.

"Merc work? Or somethin' worse?"

"Jack of all trades," she says. She raises up her gaze to him, and for one brief, strange moment, her eyes catch that unearthly light again that he can't entirely blame on the Christmas lights. "Mostly courier. An' mostly ruler of New Vegas."

---

Years down the line, Cooper Howard goes back to Vegas.

It's with company now—a vault girl he's tolerating a little more by the day, and a dog. They cross the Mojave, following the silhouette of Vegas by day and its glow by night, drawing in closer and closer like irradiated moths to Vegas' big ol' flame.

Just shy of Goodsprings, as the foothills lean forward like they're drawn in by the city, too, Lucy asks, "What kind of place is New Vegas, anyhow?"

Cooper shrugs and adjusts his pack as Dogmeat trots alongside him, tongue lolling out of her mouth. "Sleazy, dirty, bright," he says. Then, his eyes catch the tallest building in the row of casinos—the top a massive roulette wheel with its spire pointing to heaven. He has to amend his opinion, for the first time since he stepped foot in Vegas as a healthy human. "Ain't the worst watering hole, though."

"We're not going to get shot at right through the gate?"

Despite himself, Cooper smiles. He draws down the brim of his hat as low as he can without losing vision.

"Nah," he says. "All we gotta say is that Lizzie Holliday put in a good word for us."

#fallout #fallout show #fallout new vegas #courier/the ghoul #what would i even call this pairing like?????#ghoulier? mailghoul? coopzie????????

18 notes · View notes