#but his new friends from magic town aren't here with him

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In the Moonlight

Author's Note: This is a part of the Dancing With the Devil AU, but can be read as a stand alone. The Vamp!Rhys brain rot has taken over and there aren't enough fics to satisfy me so I wrote more ;)

Pairing: Vamp!Rhys x Reader x Vamp!Azriel

Content Warnings: SMUT, threesomes, oral (f and m receiving) blood, typical vampire stuff

Based on this post/ original fic

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You’ve always loved music, the steady flow of the strings, the heavy pulse of the drums; it’s always been something that moves and excites you, your body knows how to respond to it as if it's its basest instinct. Music was the siren song that had pulled you and Nesta to the dance floor all those years ago, as children, eager to dance and move and lose yourself in the steps of a blooming waltz that made the other mortal children dizzy. It had been one of your few chances at freedom, and you had chased that opportunity all the way to the Velaris Estate weeks ago, and had now found a new sense of freedom.

It’s still tied to music, by some humorous twist of fate. You’d learned early on that the Lord of the Estate had the set list planned: Something graceful and elegant to start, the slow thrum of the string section pushing people onto the dance floor, highlighting easy prey in those lingering on the edge with no partner to claim them. Then something more sensual, as the predators take the floor, snatching their prey with a charming bow and disarming smile. These will span several songs, get their prey comfortable with their presence, before the shift becomes something with more drums and base, music to disappear into the dark corners to. 

Their ability to move so seamlessly, so flawlessly that no one suspects there might be ill intent in the gesture is still mind boggling. You stand in the shadows of the upstairs veranda, watching Rhysand and his horde move as you sip from a full wine glass, content to study for now. The bargain had never specified when Rhys was supposed to turn you, for now, you attend his parties and do your best to study them, so when the time comes you’ll be prepared. 

There are new faces in the crowd tonight, less and less of your neighbors and childhood friends filling the expensive ballroom now that word had spread that you hadn’t returned home, all those weeks ago. As expected, your brother had nearly torn the Spring Estate to shreds when he’d found you gone. Nesta had apparently witnessed you sitting in Rhys’s lap--though by some magic or sheer luck, she hadn’t seen him drinking from your neck--and had gone straight to Tamlin to tell him. The betrayal had burned white hot, and not for the first time, were you thankful the ancient vampire hadn’t turned you yet, or else the destruction you might have caused in the aftermath would have made Tamlin’s look like a child’s temper tantrum. She hadn’t tried to explain herself, every one of your friends had turned their back on you, a couple of them had outright called you a whore to your face before vowing to never speak to you again. None of them were known to be tight lipped either, the whole town was sure to know that you’d “debased yourself with the Lord of Velaris”. It would have hurt less if you hadn’t spent the last couple of years protecting Nesta’s own secret lovers, but you had to admit, the newfound freedom of living here lessened the sting more and more each day. There were no governesses dictating your every outfit and hairstyle; no stewards limiting the amount of food you got at each meal to ensure you stayed pretty and thin for a would-be husband; no guards to regulate how much time you spent outside and where you could go. If you wanted to wear something, you did; if you wanted to eat you could go into the kitchens now and ask for it and the staff would do so eagerly; if you wanted to go outside and run until you got lost in the mountains, you were free to do so. There were no restrictions with Rhys, the fact alone was enough to keep you here, though the prospect of immortality pulled a little more and more each day. It wasn’t even the living forever thing, you really weren’t that interested in that part. It was the strength, the power, the freedom to be wild and unrestrained and never have to worry about being hurt or caged again. Once you were a vampire, no one could keep you locked away. 

You take another sip of wine as the music begins to shift and the lights dim. Feeding time. Rhys dances beneath you with a blonde woman, the neckline of her gown so deep you can see the heavy swell of her breasts from your vantage point. You shove down the pang of jealousy you feel upon seeing those hands on someone else’s hips with another deep drink from your wine glass.

Mor dances with a female on the edge of the crowd, the darkest part of the dance floor, where the judgmental eyes of the town won’t be so quick to spot her. Cassian hasn’t danced all night, has spent the evening prowling around the refreshment table, trying to get drunk despite his accelerated metabolism making it hard. He’d hoped to make a similar bargain with Nesta all those weeks ago, but you’re pretty sure he’d stepped on her foot and she’d left scowling in search of you before she’d found you in Rhys’s lap. Poor Cassian has been moping since.

You haven’t seen Azriel all night, but that’s how he likes it. He could be as charming as Rhys if he wanted, but he likes his solitude too much to risk it. When he steps out of the shadows to your left, as if your thoughts had materialized him, it’s little surprise. Rhys had explained that every vampire had their own unique abilities, among some shared traits, and Azriel’s shadow manipulation made him an excellent hunter.

“You’re not dancing tonight?” He says as he comes to stand beside you, scared hands resting on the banister railing. 

You take another sip of wine. “I didn’t know I was on the menu tonight.” A lie, Mor had helped you pick a gown with a neckline that plunged all the way down to your midsection with the intent of catching the Vampire Lord’s eye, but you had chickened out at the last minute and hid. Having the freedom to chose and the bravery to walk out in public were two very different things, but you hadn’t realized it until too late.

Hazel eyes roam the expanse of your exposed skin, the way your hair is pinned up out of the way so that the full expanse of your throat is available. It doesn’t hide the hickey’s Rhys had left a couple nights ago either, the dark marks smattered across your collarbones and lower, following the path of your gown. “So everyone knows your mine,” Rhys had purred in your ear and before the ball you had been thrilled to show them off. Until a few wandering eyes had lingered too long, the judgment clear on their faces. You’d spent the rest of the night hoping everyone would forget you’d existed.

“He’s looking for you,” Azriel says half-heartedly, eyes still exploring you. There’s a hunger there you can’t miss; that has you pressing your thighs a little tighter together. Azriel is as devastatingly handsome as Rhys is, and this is not the first time you’ve noticed the attention he gives you, but it has never gone anywhere. Especially not when his sire is the one leaving all these marks on your throat.

“He seemed plenty preoccupied with that blonde,” you reply.

A half-smile creases the vampire’s usually stoic face. “Jealous, little one?”

“No,” you say. “Just observing.”

The grin remains as he holds out a hand in silent invitation and when you take it, you can’t help but wonder how those large, scarred hands would feel on your thighs, spreading you open…

The world spins and flips as Azriel shadow steps the two of you down into what they call the Den, the unlit corners of the ballroom where they can feed in near privacy. There’s no doors to lock, though there are several glamors in place to keep wandering eyes from getting suspicious. 

Mor and a newly turned Emerie are already sharing a female on a couch in the corner, and the blonde winks at you as she sinks her fangs deeper into her prey.

On the opposite side of the Den, nursing a glass of whiskey under the light of the full moon peeking through the curtains, is Rhys. He looks like a god in this lighting, violet eyes glowing in the dimness. You can’t help but notice that he sits alone, his dance partner nowhere to be seen. While it’s never been discussed that you’re the only human he’s feeding on, a part of you is relieved to see that he hasn’t taken anyone else. It’s a strange sort of satisfaction, knowing there’s something in your blood that keeps him coming back again and again.

Violet eyes watch your every step forward with the intensity of a jungle cat on the hunt. “There you are, Darling,” he purrs. “I was looking for you.”

“Liar,” you tease.

He makes himself more comfortable in the large wing-backed chair, legs spread and you can’t decide if you want to climb in his lap or get on your knees for him more. 

“Did you spook your dance partner?” 

“No,” he says as he brings the whiskey back to his lips and takes a slow drink. “She was dull and she kept stepping on my toes.”

“You poor baby,” you croon and he grins as he sets the whiskey down on a small side table.

“I would have been spared if you hadn’t decided to be a wallflower tonight,” he replies, hand tapping at his thigh for an invitation for you to come sit. “What’s bothering you?”

The slit in your skirts makes moving them out of your way easy as you climb into his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Every time you think you’ll enjoy it less, but there is no feeling quite like this one, you could sit here forever. “I-”

Rhys presses his lips over a bruise on your neck.

“I was going to come down, but,” the words catch in your throat a bit, your cheeks flushed. “I think I should have worn something else.”

Slender fingers brush over your exposed skin making a shiver run down your spine. “Why would you do that?” He counters. “You look breathtaking. Doesn’t she, Az?”

You’ve almost forgotten the other vampire was still standing there, still watching in that silent, shadowy way of his. When you throw a glance at him over your shoulder, he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed into the exposed bit of your thigh from where the dress is split.

“Absolutely sinful,” he says softly.

Now you’re really blushing. “I-I was hoping you’d like it,” you stammer. “I just… I don’t like when people are looking at me.”

“I do like it,” he says so lowly that heat begins to build in your core. “So much so that I had to stop myself from taking you against the railing over and over again.” Teeth scrape lightly over your skin, teasing, not quite tasting you yet.

“Az was thinking about it too,” he hums into your skin. “You should hear the things he thinks about you.”

“Rhys-” Azriel begins, the apology on his lips, but Rhys pulls away from your neck to motion him over.

“What do you think, little one, should we give him a little taste?” You’ve never been more aware of your own body than you are with Azriel at your back, and the firm planes of Rhys at your front.

You glance back and forth between them, at the tension that rolls off Azriel, at the hunger that chases your every motion in Rhys’s eyes. In your mind he says, “It’s your choice, Darling.”

“You-you won’t be mad?”

His laugh is a beautiful thing, even in your mind. “Azriel and I have shared many females. Cassian too. I enjoy it, as long as my partner does too. And I know that you’ve thought about him, it’s hard not to, but only if you really want to.”

You’ve been studying all of them: The way they hunt, the way they move, what separates them from humans and other vampires alike. Rhys is refined in his ability to hunt, uses his charm and his wits to bait prey into the Den; he makes feeding an art form, something graceful and dazzling, an allure only someone who’s done this for a long time can make possible. Cassian is messy, he likes to splatter blood when he feeds, and while he’s calculating and strategic in the initial hunt, he has no qualms getting dirty. Mor thrives in the dark corners of the ballroom, meeting in secret with her lovers because she does not trust people enough to bring a stranger into the Den. And Amren, well you’ve only met her once, and she’d traded some of her books for a mere drop of blood from your wrist before she disappeared again. But Azriel, you haven’t really figured out. He always hovers at the edge of the crowd, only speaks or feeds when he needs to, as if denying himself the pleasure the others chase will absolve him of whatever darkness lingers in his past. You know it’s there, have heard it hinted at, but no one will say it out loud. The more you try to learn about them, the more a mystery Azriel remains, and you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t curious to see how he feeds compared to Rhys.

“I do.”

And there is no judgment there. Unlike everyone else tonight. The freedom to choose, to want, is enough to make you toss your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss the tip of his nose. Anywhere else he might be regarded as a monster of the night, but here, like this, you’ve never felt safer.

Rhys presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “And who am I to deny my little pet anything?”

Azriel’s hands settle on your hips, that immortal strength never failing to make you feel fragile and small in their grip. It sends a shiver of delight through you; there’s no denying how much you love the freedom of handing over your power and knowing they won’t abuse it.

His warm breath fans your neck as he brings his lips to your exposed throat. “Been thinking about this since you arrived.”

Rhys nips at where your neck meets your collarbone, hands skimming your sides until he finds your breasts, nipples peaked through the thin fabric. “How would you like to taste her first?”

Teeth scrape over your pulse point, savoring the rapid beating of your heart. “Turn her around.”

They move you together, fingers digging into your hips as you're positioned with your back to Rhys’s chest, legs spread by his knees. Your skirts get caught, bunched up around your hips, baring most of your legs and you give a little squeak of surprise as you try to close them, to spare what’s left of your dignity, but there’s no room as Azriel kneels between both yours and Rhys’s legs.

Heat pools in your core, even as your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “Someone is going to see us!” You squeak, voice more shrill than you would have liked it to be. You want this, you want it more than you’ll ever allow yourself to say out loud, but there is a crowd nearby and even with the glamor in place, it is still a far more compromising position than you’ve ever been in. At least before, your skirts hid your coupling, but there’s no hiding like this, as Rhys loops an arm around your waist and sinks his fangs into your neck.

The shadows that leak from Azriel drift off his broad shoulders, shimmering and darkening, as if they’re absorbing the moonlight seeping through the window. “Not unless you want them to,” he says as those scared hands drag up your soft skin.

Your hips buck despite yourself, body aching to be touched; for more, more, more. The aphrodisiac in Rhys’s venom takes hold quickly, makes your whole body molten. The combination of pain and pleasure makes you close your eyes and lean your head back against Rhys’s shoulder.

“Good girl,” Rhys purrs into your mind so he doesn’t have to release his grip on your neck. “Just relax, let us take care of you.”

Azriel must be linked into your conversation, because he says in your mind, “There’s not much room for creatures like us in temples, but I’ll worship here just the same,” as his own fangs sink into the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

It’s a far more tender spot than you thought it would be, a whimper of pain escaping you, body rocking back into the hard planes of Rhys’s chest and the growing bulge in his pants to try and escape. Their combined grip on you keeps you from getting far, but that whimper turns into a moan as Rhys drags a hand down between your legs to give you some relief. He chuckles into your mind when he finds you’re not wearing any underthings, but the slit in your skirts had made you nervous that someone would see the lacy underthings that kept appearing in your drawers if you moved too fast.

“Fuck,” Azriel moans as he unlatches his fangs from your thigh, fingers playing in the bit of blood that trickles out the puncture wounds. “She’s so sweet!”

Rhys, never one to make a mess, laps at what escapes from the wounds he made at your throat before saying, “I told you she was.”

Hazel eyes narrow into the teasing strokes the other vampire is making between your legs, watching with rapt attention the way Rhys spreads you open as he licks your blood off his lips. Vampires, you’ve noticed, have a strange sort of stillness about them, they can become still as statues, unmoving, never blinking, it was still nerve wracking, especially now that you know that predatory stillness comes right before they pounce, and Azriel has that same look about him, right before he leans in and licks a stripe up your center.

Rhys chuckles in your ear as you moan and try one more time to squirm away from their dual ministrations, body overwhelmed as he curls a finger inside you and Azriel follows with his tongue. 

You’re going to reach your high embarrassingly fast at this rate, especially when Rhys’s free hand slides your top to the side so he can roll a nipple between his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut, one hand reaching behind you to tangle in Rhys’s hair, the other in Azriel’s to try and ground yourself. The intensity of both their venom in your bloodstream has heightened everything beyond what you’d already thought possible, your skin burning, coated in sweat from this alone. Their efforts are somehow too much and not enough and you’ve lost the presence of mind to tell which of their names you’re crying out first, it might be both of them. 

Azriel feasts on you like a male starved, and the shadows not making a shield around the three of you writhe eagerly over your thighs, dusting your heated skin with cool touches that make you buck your hips as best you can against their master’s grip. Rhys adds a second finger, using your gathering wetness and Azriel’s spit to spread you open further, giving the other male more access to you, his nose brushing your clit, chin absolutely soaked in the mess you’re making. The move has you panting, stars blurring across your vision as an orgasm tears through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper, body shaking from your high.

Rhys peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders as Azriel pulls back, licking your release off his lips. “No wonder you’ve been hiding this one from the rest of us,” he says huskily. “I could spend all night like this.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little one?” Rhys purrs in your ear, breath tickling your still flushed skin. Their venom hasn’t worn off yet, body still not satiated, still begging to be touched and claimed. There’s not a chance you can close your legs, the evidence of your still budding arousal leaking onto his pants.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Which one of us do you want first, hm?”

How are you supposed to choose? There are too many things you want and it’s all getting muddled in your head. “Both.”

It’s Azriel’s deep rumble of a laugh that skitters across your skin as he says, “You can’t take both of us in this body, little one.” Scarred hands skim your exposed thighs, fingers kneading into the bite marks that are quickly turning into a bruise. “Humans are so fragile.”

And damn do you certainly feel it like this, tucked between the two of them. They could so easily break you, so easily overpower you. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. 

“Want…” your cheeks heat, a blush crawling its way up your neck and Rhys runs his tongue over it with a chuckle.

“Tell us what you want, Darling.”

You shiver, despite the flush of your damp skin. “Want to taste you then.”

You watch with rapt attention as those hazel eyes widen, the golden ring thinning until there is nothing but pupil as he processes what you’re saying. Still, you grind yourself down on Rhys’s bulge as you reach for the laces on Azriel’s pants, hoping he gets the hint as well.

“Greedy little thing,” Azriel tuts, but he steps closer anyway, letting you figure out how to get the laces untied in the moonlight. “I don’t think you’ve properly trained your pet, Rhys.”

Rhys’s fingers dip into the tender flesh of your hips mercilessly as he grinds you back against his erection, a rumble of a moan echoing through his chest. “Don’t want this one trained,” he purrs. “They taste better when they’re wild.”

You manage to get the laces undone, hands shaking a bit when you realize what you’ve just gotten yourself into. Rhys is a lot on his own, Azriel is… bigger than you expected. A lot bigger, his cock heavy and erect against his stomach. 

They must be having their own mental conversation, when you pause to consider how to even go about this, Azriel suddenly reaches out to grab you by the hair, pulling you forward as Rhys moves your skirts out of the way. Their movements are in perfect sync and you don’t know whether you should hiss from the sting of those large hands in your hair or moan as Rhys rubs the tip of his cock against your center. The sound that comes out of you is a little bit of both in the end.

“Are you sure about this?” Rhys inquires as if there could possibly be any thought in your head other than how much you need the both of them right now. Do they not share the same ache you feel? How are they not consumed by this thing that begs beneath your skin to be touched and soothed and filled?

You lean forward just enough to lick Azriel’s tip, catching a bead of pre-cum on your tongue as the male’s fingers tighten in your hair, a hiss escaping him. “Very sure.”

“Tap my thigh twice if it gets to be too much,” Rhys orders.

You nod your understanding as he slides slowly into you, letting you get adjusted to the feel of him from this angle. He’s deliberately slow, gliding in inch by inch, making your eyes roll back into your head, all your focus on the feel of him instead of tending to Az. 

“I see she gets her greediness from you,” Azriel teases.

You have to brace yourself against Azriel’s hips as Rhys rocks your forward, chuckling. “Just because I said I’d share, doesn’t mean I’m not going to have my fill.”

Stars dance across your vision as he hits an angle inside you he hasn’t reached before, mouth falling open as pleasure licks its way up your spine. 

Azriel grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him when all you want to do is squeeze your eyes shut under the pleasure. “Are you gonna put that pretty little mouth to use?”

You run your tongue over your lips, whimpering as Rhys settles fully inside you, “Mmhhmm,” is all you can manage to get out before he’s guiding you down to his leaking cock. 

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” Az whispers. “Always wearing that pretty shade of lipstick that would look so good smeared across my cock.”

You swirl your tongue over his tip again and his hips jerk involuntarily. It’s a greedy sort of satisfaction you get in knowing that you can reduce a thousand year old vampire to this with just your tongue, and you want to see how much farther you can push him. Keeping a hand on his hips for balance, you use the other touch him, tracing a line down the underside of his shaft that has him hissing as the muscles in his abdomen tighten.

Rhys takes as much time sliding out of you as he had sliding in, setting a leisurely pace you know is to help you get comfortable with this setting. As tight as his own muscles are, you know he’s holding back, and you’re grateful for it, as you start to take Azriel in your mouth. It’s going to take time to get used to, you have to focus all your effort into breathing out your nose and slackening your jaw. There’s no way you’re going to be able to fit all of him.

“Just like that,” Az moans, using the hand in your hair to guide you down further.

“Look so pretty like this,” Rhys encourages as he trails soft kisses over your spine. He’s far more gentle with you than a vampire ought to be, and you can’t help but think he might be getting attached to you; a notion that would have sounded absurd weeks ago, but makes your heart stutter a little now.

“Feels so good,” you tell him mind to mind.

He slides back into you with a groan, just a little more forcefully than before, making your head bob down Azriel’s cock until he hits the back of your throat. Az moans louder than someone who is usually so stoic ought to and you have to release him for a second to catch your breath.

He gives you mere seconds before he’s hurriedly pulling you back, groaning like he can’t bear to not have your mouth around him anymore. Rhys sets his pace to match, giving you a rhythm to follow as you get a hand around the parts of Az you can’t get your mouth around. 

This is a pleasure you didn’t know you needed; the way they both moan and pant over you has you rocking your hips back into Rhys, your hand pumping a little harder around Az. As much as you want them to ruin you, you want to do the same to them.

Rhys’s fangs scrape over your shoulder, fingers tightening into your hips in a move you know will leave bruises. He’s getting closer to the edge, all his praises whispered in pants against your skin.

Az throws his head back as he hits the back of your throat once, twice, then a third time, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust. 

They’re both so close, you not far behind, especially when Rhys slips his hand between your legs again.

“Fuck,” Az whispers. With his head thrown back like that, eyes pinched shut, muscled body bathed in the moonlight, he looks every bit a god. And if his tongue between your legs counts as worship, then so should this as you take him as deep as you can without gagging, face a mess of spit and pre-cum.

“Gonna cum,” he warns.

Rhys’s thrusts are getting harder, the chair groaning beneath him as he fucks up into you. This is usually where he likes another taste of you, you’re used to the routine of it, ready for him to sink his fangs into your shoulder, though the force of it this time is different, as if he’s losing control, the bite sloppy, teeth scraping against your skin before they push in.

Your whole body tenses at the sensation of a thousand year old vampire losing a bit of his usual control, pleasure building white hot in your core. You want to see him a complete mess one of these days. 

It’s your moan around his cock that pushes Azriel quickly over the edge, warm cum spurting in your mouth before he can pull away from you. Azriel, quite, broody Azriel groans and pants as he cums, the sound like music to your ears as you drink him down. His hand still hasn’t left your hair, now scrapping gently against your scalp as you release him with a pop that turns into a squeal as Rhys bites down on your shoulder a second time.

One more thrust, then a second before your own release barrels through you, white hot in the buzz of sensations swirling around your head. Your own release chases Rhys into his and he jerks forward with a cry as he spills inside you.

You fall back against his chest as you come down from your high, body trembling, breath escaping in pants. 

Azriel reaches out and wipes a bit of the mess he made on your chin with his thumb, muttering, “Beautiful.”

Still catching his breath, Rhys presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek, and judging by the wetness on his lips you think there might still be some blood on them, but you’re too blissed out to care.

“Did so well,” he praises in your ear, voice still low and husky.

You raise a hand to card your fingers through his hair, eyes drifting shut, beyond satiated. If someone had told you this would have happened because you’d decided to sneak into a party and dance with a stranger, you wouldn’t have believed them in the slightest, but now, it doesn’t matter how long it takes for him to fulfill his end of the bargain. There are new freedoms to be found still, new pleasures to experience. You know things will be different once he turns you, and you’re not ready to feel so different yet. Right now, you like this thing between you. It’s good. Freeing.

“I’m glad I met you,” you admit softly.

“How very human of you to say,” Azriel teases as he fixes his pants. Despite his words, once he’s done, he still leans down to kiss your forehead.

“You like that I’m human,” you counter.

Rhys manages to get you repositioned so he can stand and carry you upstairs to his room, where you know a warm bath will be waiting for the two of you. “That we do, little one,” he purrs. “There’s still so much more to explore before you turn.”

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi! Because someone just asked me, I'd love you hear your Top 5 favourite McLennon fics!

You made my day! Nothing could have made me happier than this ask.

I'm not going to evade your question. I will post my top-five, even though it hurts to choose. But you inspired me to finally write a longer (okay: very long) post about some (not nearly all!) of my favorites, which will be under the cut.

(Sorry for not knowing every writer's tumblr, by the way. Please feel free to let me know, so I can tag authors where appropriate. Thank you!)

My Top 5:

MIRACLE WORKER by @scurator. What can I say. Every time I need my heart broken and to feel an inkling of what grace truly means, I go to this masterpiece about Paul and Robert Fraser finding each other again at Cavendish in 1981.

COAST STARLIGHT by bookofapril is "Miracle Worker's" cosmic twin. The sun to its night. Paul and Robert Fraser on Fire Island in 1974. Nothing I can say will do it justice, so I won't try. This is the "other world" conjured in "Tug of War," so powerfully and joyfully imagined, it's real. (I'm always thinking of this story, but I did so extra hard when I came across a prompt recently: 'They aren't each other's first love, but they're each other's true love'.)

SAME AS IT EVER WAS by RedheadAmongWolves. My favorite Outsider's POV. An ageing newsstand owner from Liverpool remembers John and Paul as boys and young men. There's something magical about the relationship coming alive in these glimpses. A story filled with tenderness that reminds me to always look closely.

AN ORGASM OF SOUND by @pauls1967moustache. The insanity of John and Paul in 1967 got the tribute it deserves. I sleep easier since I read this story. It feels cosmically right that it exists.

PLANT A SEED by @eveepe. Paul in his slutty sailor outfit in Miami. He and John are into each other, and happy, and fuck slowly. Afterwards, Paul has an idea for a new song. That's it. Tender, glorious, hot perfection. Apply at least once a week for best results.

For more thoughts about some of my favorite stories, sorted into very much defined-ad-hoc categories, read under the cut.

Young Love:

I love the myth of their first meeting, and stories that speculate about the sexually loaded creative fireworks/gritty jealousies/tentative hand-holding/topping and tailing during the first years. Here are some faves:

Paul finds music, and John, and his life is changing. In STREETS OF OUR TOWN (@with-eyes-closed) you can taste the upheaval and promise of first love and growing up. Deeply sensual, even without on-page sex. The shaky, sweet, and all-consuming fire of John and Paul’s first kiss is immortalized in ALL I KNOW SINCE YESTERDAY (RedheadAmongWolves). In NON NOBIS SOLUM (@downtothe-lastdrop), art student John simply has to know how far grammar school boy Paul will go to please him. But Paul matches him play-by-play. In THE CAST IRON SHORE (@m1ssunderstanding) Paul earns extra money through music and sex. John finds out. They fall in love, and hide their mutual pining behind transactions—but in the end, they man up to pair up, and get their band back on track. (The first part is finished; I can’t wait for part 2.) John and Paul’s ’61 trip to Paris has been honored in fiction many times; WHEN YOU ARE YOUNG THEY ASSUME YOU KNOW NOTHING (@lilypadd23) is a slow-burning, blessedly long story that blossoms sweetly. DON’T THINK ABOUT IT is the concept by which Paul measures both his pining for John and their deeply satisfying (but surely not really queer?!) sex life. Perfectly realized Paul POV by @merseydreams. Finally: I NEED YOU DARLIN’ (verse) (by @beatlessideblog) would have fit many categories, but I put it here, because in the end, it’s about young John and Paul becoming friends, making music, having sex, and falling in love. No more, no less. Embedded in a late 50’s/early 60's Liverpool omegaverse in which there's a place for their bond. But, surprise (?!): It’s still complicated. I can’t overstate how charming and satisfying and funny and hot this work is.

Old John and Paul:

Is there anything as lovely as imagining John and Paul growing old together?

In HERE TODAY (@herspecialagent), John and Paul found happiness with each other in Scotland. On 8th December 1980, they invite friends for a party, and fight an inexplicable sense of doom. A reminder that our other lives can be closer than we think, and to keep our loved ones even closer.

GROW OLD WITH ME (@inherownwr1te): Old farmers and husbands John and Paul enjoy domestic bliss, deal with a broken arm, and make sweet love.

HAVING COFFEE (@feathersandblue): John Lennon and Paul McCartney, “one of the most iconic gay couples in history,” look back on their early love, the Beatles, and being outed in the 80’s, in this oh-so-glamourous, well-written 2020 portrait…

Magical re-tellings of J/P and/or the Beatles Story:

No matter where you come down on the blessed vs. cursed continuum—they were living through something magical.

In KISSING THE BLARNEY (@zilabee) the Beatles draw love and music from kissing Paul, and each other, until the stupid world interferes. But fear not, all ends well. How to tell the truth through whimsy: this story demonstrates it.

In WE ARE ALL TOGETHER (also by @zilabee), John and Paul switch bodies. It helps.

I WAS A YOUNGER MAN NOW (THEN) (POST HOC) BY @fingersfallingupwards: Paul is a time traveler and braids his life together with John’s, out of order, through the years. And yes, they do grow old together—but not without losing each other first. I’m in awe of this story.

A darker time-traveling story is A MATTER OF TIME (D12Fan), in which John and Paul love each other, over and over, and never manage to make it work—but Paul won’t give up.

FOR THOUGH THEY MAY BE PARTED (@downtothe-lastdrop): The misery of the 'Get Back' sessions and memory-stunting technology imported from “Severance” are not enough to kill off John and Paul’s attraction and longing for each other. Again, this is basically what happened, so.

John and Paul without the Beatles?

Yes, please! Sometimes, the best way to dissect and celebrate (and fix?) this mesmerizing and exasperating partnership is to lift it from its context and drop it elsewhere. Anything goes.

WHATEVER FATE DECREES by @dailyhowl: A gorgeous, finely spun, securely handled, self-contained vision of how John and Paul could have worked as artists in love, without a band to 'legitimize' and constrain their bond. I love this homage to their deep and complicated love that needed trust and breathing room.

1967 by @walkuntilthedaylight: What if John and Paul had gone to Spain together and not come back? This story not only explores their relationship layer by layer, it also dives into the the feelings of those who knew them 'before' and who now meet them again, as a couple. A fascinating alternate history. Not a fluffy one.

TOMORROW I'LL MISS YOU (@pauls1967moustache): Paul abandons John in Hamburg—or John stays behind without bothering to write, depending on who you ask. This "Before Sunset"—AU reunites them, years later. They ride a bus and write a song, and the love and tension are sweet and painful.

DOUBLE FANTASY (by @javelinbk): Modern AU in which John and Paul meet at John's flower shop and manage to ignore and creatively re-interpret their feelings for one another for a surprising amount of time, before fate has mercy. I love how their sweet, well-matched eccentricity makes the world a warmer place for both of them.

WE ARE STARDUST (Unchained_Daisychain): AU. John and Paul meet at Woodstock, fall hard and fast for each other, and have to decide what to do with it: Paul's life is back home in England...except...

Angst, darkness, and courage:

Pain, fear, grief, and other dark emotions are part of the real J/P story, so it makes sense to honor and harvest them in fiction. One of my favorite brands of McLennon angst is the one triggered by their feelings for each other, and the thing they become once they're together™. When they're scared of how much they need each other, and of what will happen next.

ONE AND ONE AND ONE IS THREE and MANAGING EXPECTATIONS (both by @pauls1967moustache), for instance. The first is a terrifying threesome with Yoko (at John's instigation, of course), in which trust is never rewarded and sex resolves nothing. The second is Paul wondering, in thoughts both messy and crystal clear, whether he exists independently of John. He turns to Brian for answers. They fuck. It feels like a human thing compared to what is going on in Paul's mind. Just astounding.

SUNDAY DRIVER (@boshemians) dives into the theme of Paul and John being afraid of themselves in the aftermath of Paul's accident (moped, sexual) with Tara Browne. This one, like "Managing Expectations," ends on a lovely grace note.

MACABRE (@dovetailjoints). Lennon and McCartney go too far.

OPEN HEART (@paisanas). Paul drinks John's blood. John lets him. But Paul starts to hate himself for how much he needs John, which John feels as rejection. I love how this story ends on Paul embracing his need. You can see the painful, bare bones of their malnourished love under the lush sensuality of the vampire sex. Raw and rich.

SILENCE (@ohjohnnysblog). Short and piercing. If there is someone you love—tell them. Don't wait.

THE LATE, GREAT JOHNNY ACE (@midchelle). Reeling with grief, Paul is recording an album in 1981. George and Ringo are there. John is not. But in the end—he is. And they touch. I've always admired Paul's resilience in the face of having to perform or "prove" his love of John in public, and this story showed me, without sugar-coating, where this resilience comes from.

Light, hope, and fixing things:

There is also much lightness and brightness in McLennon, because John and Paul were ridiculous, and horny, and weird. And also: they deserve a laugh. They deserve the fluffiest of happy endings. They deserve high-quality, life-affirming smut. They deserve silly, because silly is what they were. You know their names, look up their number.

1980. John is in BERMUDA (@scurator), Paul visits. Paul comes prepared, John just comes. Sometimes, it can be this simple. This story always leaves me in such a good mood. Paul is the (more) experienced one, and it...really works for me.

GOT TO GET DOWN (@eveepe): In praise of John's obsession with Paul's...precious. His small and perfect prick.

ADVENTURES IN TOTAL HONESTY (@merseydreams). Pithy and sexy, and, I quote from the tags: #Excessive Margarita Mixing.

ANINUT (@pauls1967moustache): The Beatles heal, together and separately, after Brian's death. Once more, I quote the writer: "The Beatles did not follow any of the Jewish mourning traditions, and frankly, they should have."

The unhinged weirdness of the Mad Day Out, with John and Paul escaping and Francie, Yoko and Mal not missing them...much, is rightfully celebrated in one of the insaner stories I read: JOHN, I'M ONLY DANCING (@skylikeaflame)

FAIR'S FAIR (@javelinbk): John and Paul are being silly during a press conference, resulting in acute arousal requiring John's skilled intervention. I love the unexpected care and tenderness in this one!

WHERE THE POETS WENT (RedheadAmongWolves): Tender and enchanted story in which Paul and John go to a bookstore, where they're not as famous as everywhere else. As delicate as the chiming doorbells and the pages murmuring around them.

TAKEN AWAY (@crumblingcookies) Extraterrestrial Intelligence intervenes to reunite John and Paul.

CAN I TAKE MY FRIEND TO BED? (manhattanvalleys). Paul fucks the band in sequence and gets off in the end, as is his due. This is a story like Prince's KISS. No filler, all effect.

THEY SAY IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY (@ohjohnnysblog). Warm and nostalgic phone sex in the 70's.

KEEP THE LIGHT WE'RE GIVEN (@backbenttulips). Amidst the rise of Beatlemania, Paul and John expect their first child. This is Paul's 1962 diary.

More Outsider POV's:

STILL MATES (@pauls1967moustache): in 1968, Peter Asher takes the leap to act on his feelings for his sister's spiraling ex fiancé. This isn't about Paul as much as about Peter, and who he wants to be. Gutting character study. It made me love Peter.

ANOTHER GIRL (@boshemians): Astrid reunites with the Beatles during the making of AHDN and registers their words and deeds with the same stark objectivity as her camera. I love how she seeks the shelter of obscurity while they are being dragged into the limelight. But she sees them, wherever they are. J/P in this story feels incredibly real to me.

WHY BUY THE COW (RedheadAmongWolves). The milkman sees everything on his early morning rounds: the arrival of a nice new family, the McCartneys, the mother's illness, the sadness after her death...and the arrival of a new love in the older son's life. He shouldn't approve—should say something, in fact. But a small inner voice holds him back.

SLEEPLESS IN WALES (thinkpink20). Mike overhears Paul and John whisper in bed. He doesn't understand everything they say. I do. Adorable.

Not each other's first love, but each other's true love

THIS YEAR'S FOR ME AND YOU (@skylikeaflame): After a long life, after deep and loving partnerships with other people, John and Paul, encouraged by their grown-up children, finally meet their mutual love head on. A festive story about waiting the perfect amount of time.

THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas): The Beatles are in the past; John and Paul's love is in ashes. Paul, who is fragile and bereft, lives with George, who is content. The four ex-Beatles unite for the second wedding of Mike McCartney. At times, the aching grief in this story is almost unbearable. But the love between George and Paul is unusual and real. This is unfinished. I'll keep waiting for the final chapter.

Beyond J/P

WANT ME WHEN I'M NOT THERE (@backbenttulips): Linda catches Paul cheating on her with John. She divorces him. Finally: a story that puts her most likely reaction front and center, with no mercy for the messed-up geniuses.

In the Rebecca-AU LOVE LIKE GHOSTS (@backbenttulips), Yoko becomes Mrs. Lennon. Soon, she discovers that her husband is haunted by the ghost of his first love. It's pleasing how well this re-telling matches the events as they (alas) (almost) happened. The ending is chilling. Genuinely horrifying. I love seeing Yoko as the sensible one and as the focus of empathy.

THE BASS LESSON (@aquarianshift). Paul and Stu fool around without letting go of their mutual resentment for even a moment. And it works. "Let's never do this again." I don't think so.

TELL ME ALL MY LOVE'S IN VAIN (@midchelle). Forget about quote unquote platonically obsessed male rock stars: This about about Maureen and Patti through the years. The web weaving continues.

SPOTLIGHT ON JOHN AND STU (@dailyhowl) A love story in letters—too brief, like Stu's life, but sounding as if the writer transcribed their dictation. Some of the best descriptions of what it must have been like to play on stage with the Beatles during the mania are in NO I IN THREESOME (@with-eyes-closed). George finds himself in the beam of attention between John and Paul, and nearly loses his mind. But he's determined to stay and become part of them. Paul is daddy and "fucks like music" as seen through George's eyes. The whole story is vicious and hot and uncomfortable—until there's the love and quiet at the eye of the storm.

Not for the faint of heart! WHAT THE CIGGIE CARTON SAW (@waveofhand): Paul McCartney having his way with cigarettes.

This is getting out of hand...but I'll stop here. There are so many more stories I love. And I can think of many other categories that would deserve their own post.

So, who knows: To be continued?

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

A/N: Oops, I made this chapter a little angsty. I do love Nancy now, flaws and all. Oh, the title is a play on for stuck between a rock and a hard place. Thought it was funny.

Chapter One

Nancy Wheeler was confident in her decisions, to say the least. She never really doubted when she was in the right. It was a constant struggle, though, to look at someone's else's side of things. It was why she loved looking at the facts, put plain and simply before her. The facts are that she was interning at the local newspaper and that the news reporters seemed to hate women or look down on them at least. They surely didn't respect them.

"I mean, like what year are we in now? There are tons of female news reporters. Get ahead of the times!" Nancy complained.

"Well, there's a reason why people call this town so conservative. Will this town ever be willing to change?" Steve asked, shaking an invisible magic eight ball. "Sources say: unlikely. I mean, now, they really won't be subject to change with the way this mall moved in and took away their businesses."

"The same mall you work at?" Nancy asked in amusement. "By the way, what the hell are you wearing?"

"I can't believe you're just now noticing. This is my uniform," Steve said and flipped the hat back onto his head.

Nancy had stopped by Scoops Ahoy after coming into the mall to try to find Holly a birthday gift. She had spotted Steve behind the counter and had to stop in. Now, here they were, in the back room conversing like old friends. Steve stood up from the table and slowly twirled around before striking a pose. His back was to her, and he peered over his shoulder, his hand over his mouth as though he was shocked. His rear end was sticking out. He looked like he got caught doing something he shouldn't. Nancy burst into a fit of giggles.

"You're an idiot, Steve Harrington," Nancy said softly.

"And you're - uh - anyway, yes, this is my uniform. It's completely fucking embarrassing but not as embarrassing as being too stupid to get into anywhere," Steve said.

"Despite what I said before, you're not stupid. Although, you can be an idiot at times. It's not who you are, and if your dad ever makes you feel like that, then just send him my way. I'll kick his ass," Nancy said.

"You're the only person in the world I believe could actually take that asshole," Steve said.

"Thanks. I should probably go. I told mom I would be home soon," Nancy said, getting up.

"One thing first, and I'm not sure it was my place to say, but this job of yours. . .you're not getting paid, your skills aren't being put to good use, you have to ask what else am I getting out of this? What else am I learning?" Steve asked.

"Well, I'm learning what not to do," she said, and he laughed.

"You know, it's okay to give up something that's not working for you, and it's okay to fight for it. Whatever decision that works best for you, Nancy, it's okay," Steve said.

"Stop saying okay. I hate that word," Nancy said softly.

It made her stomach turn the way he said it softly, reminding her of the way he said it that night he told her to go with Jonathan. A small portion of guilt nestled in her stomach. She shook it away and smiled.

"It was good to see you again, Steve," Nancy said. "We should talk again soon."

"Definitely," Steve grinned. "Did I help at all?"

"Yeah, actually, you did," Nancy said.

As she walked out of the break room, she passed Steve’s co-worker Robin. She gave Nancy the stink eye. She wondered if it was because she thought there was something between her and Steve. Was Robin jealous of her? Did she want to date Steve? Or was she dating Steve? God, Nancy hoped not. She blushed, realizing that she had no right to be jealous of someone she didn't have any interest in anymore. . .or did she? Nancy walked briskly away, moving out of the parlor and towards the exit as quickly as possible. Halfway towards the exit, Nancy realized that she had left her purse. When she walked back in, there was a closed for lunch sign out front. She went in and headed towards the break room. She paused by the door when she heard her name.

"You're friends with your ex?" Robin asked. "That's a little. . . Unusual."

"I take what I can get," Steve said.

"What does that mean?" She asked and paused. "What? Are you still in love with her?"

Nancy sucked in a breath and waited hopefully for the right answer.

"I mean, I don't know. I guess so. How does one fully stop loving Nancy Wheeler?" Steve asked. "I just want her to be happy. If Jonathan makes her happy, then I'm happy, too."

"It doesn't kill you inside every time you hang out to see her with another guy?" Robin asked.

"Well, this is the first time we hung out in a while. After it all. . .ended, Nancy invited me to have lunch with her Jonathan, but I couldn't. . .it was too painful. I spent lunch in my car blasting Careless Whisper and crying. I got my heart broken, and I didn't have any friends. I mean, the friends I had I walked away from. They were assholes, yes, but I knew Tommy all of my life, and he wasn't always like that. My parents were never home, still aren't, and I just had no one. The kids I started to babysit helped a lot, but considering they were kids and one of them was Nancy's brother, I couldn't exactly talk to them about this," Steve said. "Before we broke up, I tried everything to befriend Jonathan because I knew how much he meant to Nancy. I guess I just didn't want to admit how much."

Nancy pressed her hand to her mouth, tears filling her eyes as she tried to muffle her sobs. She didn't know anything about all of that or the fact that Steve tried to make friends with Jonathan.

"You didn't want to lose her. The fact that you tried to befriend him says a lot about you," Robin said. "I wouldn't have been able to do that."

"I can't hate her for making the choice that she did. I was never enough to be it for her, but I respect her choice even if I don't like it. I can't force her - " Steve choked up. "I can't force her to love me."

"So pathetic," Robin said softly with a hint of affection and Steve laughed.

"Definitely pathetic," Steve said and paused. "I miss her so much that it's stupid. I just wish that I could move on. I think I'm trying too hard. I guess I can't force that either."

"I think I can help with that," Robin said in a mischievous voice. "It requires me taking over the whiteboard, though. What are your preferences?"

"Men, women," Steve said.

"I meant like how do you want me to tease you mercilessly while I do this, but that is. . . That is good to know," Robin said. "Um, right, thanks for telling me."

Crying softly, Nancy quietly and quickly walked away. She'd get her purse some other time. She ran all the way to the bathroom and locked herself in a stall. What he had said then was something she always suspected about Steve, but she never asked, never wanted to be pushy about that part of his life in case he wasn't aware, but turns out, he was. It was all the other stuff that was overwhelming her. She couldn't stop picturing Steve alone in his car, crying. She had so wanted to believe that he had been fine, that he wouldn't be affected by what happened. Or maybe she just hoped that he wouldn't care because it was easier to escape the fact that she fucked up. She didn't intend to hurt Steve, but she did it anyway, and maybe there was another reason why she didn't want to think about how he felt or that moment at the school. She didn't want to think about him walking away from her after begging her to tell him that she loved him. She didn't want to think about him telling her it was okay or hearing him call himself a shitty boyfriend. It was easier to ignore all of that than to admit that she didn't feel like she deserved him.

Jonathan doesn't deserve for her to think that way either because her relationship with him means something, doesn't it? Everything happened so quickly. Maybe that was why she wanted it to happen so fast. Why she had acted the way she did with her feelings for Jonathan? She wanted to destroy her relationship with Steve, to make him hate her the way she hated herself, and she wanted him to feel guilty the way that she did with Barb. She was so mad at her before she died. Why couldn't Barb have understood that it was her choice to have sex with Steve? That the moment he talked to her, it was decided, and the very moment his lips touched hers. She bought a new bra, bought a new sweater, and she even lied to her mom about why she needed birth control.

"This isn't you, Nance," Barb had said.

"Why couldn't you have just gone home?" Nancy whispered to the empty bathroom.

The real person she wanted to be angry with was Barb, and how grotesque was that? How could she be angry at Barb for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? No, because if Barb had gone home and just let her make her choice, then Barb would still be alive. Nancy's stomach rolled. That's what Steve represented, not his guilt because he did nothing, but her own for being so angry with Barb before she died and for being angry after. The real person to be angry with, she knew, was Dr. Brenner. He was the man who started all of this, who led Barbara to her death. If she could bring him back and kill him again, she'd kill him a thousand times. She couldn't go down that road again. She knew the risks she took when she sought justice for Barb. She risked the whole damn town to do it. She wasn't sure she could put something like on Steve again because she still loved him, and he deserved better than that. Nancy wiped her face and came out of the bathroom to find Robin leaning against the wall. She was holding her purse.

"You left this. I saw you run in here. Damn, you're fast," Robin said and handed her the purse.

"Thanks," Nancy said, taking the purse and Robin narrowed her eyes at her.

"You came back for the purse. You heard us," Robin said, and Nancy didn't say anything. "You still love him."

"He deserves better," Nancy said.

"Doesn't he also deserve to make that choice for himself?" Robin asked.

"I - why do you care so much?" Nancy asked.

"I'm a firm believer in second chances. Without them, I wouldn't be here. My mother thought she'd never see my father again or to tell how she felt, but the chance came around again, so . . . Here I am," Robin said, raising her hands up in a shrug. "Gotta believe that there's hope for everyone."

Nancy stared at her for a moment, trying to figure her out. She washed her hands and dried them off.

"Don't tell Steve about this," Nancy said softly.

"Tell him what?" Robin shrugged and left the bathroom.

When Nancy walked into the house, Holly was playing barber shop with Mike's hair while he screeched that she was pulling his hair on purpose. Judging by the mischievous look on Holly's face, she was. Nancy smiled and shook her head before walking into the kitchen where her mother was making lunch.

"Hey, Nance. Did you find what you were looking for at the mall?" Karen asked.

"I think so," Nancy said softly as she stared at her mother.

She realized then where the choice she made with Jonathan was leading her. It was the path that she thought Steve would lead her down to: an unhappy marriage. She still liked Jonathan right now, and she wanted to continue to like him. Not that her mom didn't love her dad. It's just that she didn't like him very much. She wanted a partner that she not only liked but loved as well.

"We like Steve, but we don't love Steve," Murrary had taunted.

Nancy blushed furiously. He had been wrong. She should have said something then, defended Steve then because it was true. She liked Steve, and she loved him too. As much as she cared for Jonathan, as much as she liked him, she didn't love him the way that she loved Steve. The more she thought about Steve, the more she started to remember everything that she loved about their relationship. She remembered nights when they would curl up and watch Tom Cruise movies. They would both gush and giggle over him. Thinking about it now, he definitely had a crush on him like she did. She remembered watching him bake, and when a Bob Seger song came on, he would pull her in his arms to dance. He wasn't afraid to let her lead either. It wasn't just Bob Seger. It was Queen, Bowie, and Madonna. Occasionally, it was stuff like Eddie Van Halen, too. She loved the fact that he didn't just have a particular genre that he loved. He appreciated all sorts. And when she had to babysit Holly, he would come over to help, and he was always so good with her. He was good with both Holly and Mike. She loved the way that he wasn't afraid to be an absolute dork. Her dad was a quiet man, but he always some managed to pull a conversation out of Ted, and he loved to help her mother in the kitchen. She remembered all if without the cloud of guilt weighing her down.

"Nancy, honey, are you okay?" Karen asked.

"I messed everything up," Nancy burst into tears.

Chapter Two

[cluuny]

the future just got here

or, the wizard gem's arrival in tumble town

Here’s the thing.

No, no there was no ‘thing.’ This wasn’t a ‘thing.’ This was nothing. This was a temporary bump. Gem had messed up a teleportation spell, and was now in Mezelea instead of Mythland. Oops, but okay, fine, whatever.

And then the… whatever they were- appeared, and it became… a bit more of a thing.

“Where you goin’, missy?” One of them asked, sidling up to her on his horse. “Lookin’ for Tumble Town?”

Gem scowled. She wasn’t sure what that meant but it sounded like either a threat or an innuendo, and either way she wasn’t interested. So she kept marching onward, clutching her staff stubbornly, as the mounted men circled her slowly. She didn’t like this. She really really didn’t like this.

The men didn't stop, didn't leave, just circling around her, jeering her, occasionally letting out a laugh or a whoop, and she just kept walking. She had no idea where she was or whether she was in the right place at all. She didn't know where she was going. She just kept walking.

Suddenly, one of the men leaned down from his horse, grabbed her staff, and yanked. She yelped as a splinter stabbed into her palm, but didn't let go, whirling on the man, raising the staff defensively.

“Get lost,” She barked. “Or I'll turn you and your pathetic friends into desert toads.”

She couldn't, she didn't have the energy, but they paused. “Are you… wait, are you the Great Swamp Witch?”

Thinking fast, she nodded. “I am.”

The six men started murmuring nervously, glancing at each other. “Oh.”

One of them glanced behind her, his back straightening. “Shit, the Sheriff's coming.”

They all turned tail and fled, and she whirled around to watch a new figure approach.

They were tall and lean, their blond hair reaching their shoulders, their sharp brown eyes piercing through her as they slowed their horse to a trot.

“You alright, your highness?” They asked in a hauntingly familiar voice. “Were those ruffians botherin’ you?”

She blinked at him. “Jimmy?”

They frowned, a look of sudden concern flashing over their face. “I'm… where'd you hear that name? And… why are you dressed like that?”

She glanced down. She was wearing her typical green wool dress and purple caplet. She looked how she always did, which, sure, was far from practical in this environment, but she hadn’t exactly known she’d be coming here.

But Jimmy, on the other hand… she'd never seen them without their hood, but this couldn't be what they looked like. Especially since this looked every bit like a human.

What was going on?

“Princess?”

“What?” She asked, frowning at them. “What did you just call me?”

“Are you… are you having memory issues?” The Sheriff asked. “Should I call fWhip?”

Finally, a familiar name. She paused, sighed, and shook her head. “I just have to get to Mezalea. If I can do that, I can go home.”

“Mezalea?” They frowned. “Like… the old Porcelain City?”

“Yeah, that's the one,” Her shoulders relaxed. “I need to get there and talk to the King.”

“The King of Mezelea…” The Sheriff's eyes widened. “You aren't Princess Gem.”

“Uh.”

“What year is it?”

“382?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Before or after the Rapture?”

“The what?” She asked, glancing around for any excuse to leave this bizarre conversation. “What’s the Rapture?”

“Oh, for Joel’s sake,” The Sheriff groaned, their eyes sliding shut as one gloved hand came up to pinch the bridge of their nose. “Of course, this might as well happen. Can you come with me, Miss?”

“Not until you explain what’s going on.” She said, firmly.

They opened their eyes, narrowing them as they gave her a tired, cold look, before slinging one leg over the saddle, and hopping down to face her properly.

“There’s two things that can be happenin’ here. Either,” They leaned in, pressing a finger to her chest. “You’re a liar, and a con artist, who just happens to look like the Princess of Dawn, or-”

“Well, it’s not that.”

“-Or…There’s strange, strange magic at play. And you just happen to look like the Princess of Dawn.”

“That’s… weird, but it’s not my fault,” Gem said, stubbornly. “I don’t even know who the Princess is.”

“Right,” The Sheriff huffed. “But you somehow knew my name- the name not a single other person knows.”

“I… I knew someone named Jimmy,” Gem said, cautiously. “Who sounded exactly like you.”

The Sheriff tilted their head. They were the same height as her, maybe an inch or two taller, which was a strange experience for someone who was used to being one of the tallest in the room. She subconsciously put her shoulders back and her chin up, and they quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Alright, what’s your name?”

“Gem.”

“Just like the princess,” They murmured. “You can call me The Sheriff, or Law. I don’t care which. I’m going to have to take you in for a bit, until I can determine what your intentions are.”

“What?” She frowned, startled. “No, I have to get home, I need to go home to my family-”

“Sorry miss,” Law said, one hand snapping out, wrapping easily around her wrist. “You’re under arrest.”

[lesfir]

This is the kind of post that become a flight of thought and reasoning with a bit of hc. The Break Up with Lord Astarion Like: Asc Astsrion dickpic photo of a drunk ex - behavior nah well if drunk... still nah+meh Astarion has centuries of seduction experience. His brains aren't so smooth as to send Tav a "dickpic" in hopes of attention and success. He'll come up with a really nice and neat plan to get Tav to come to him on their own. He's got time. It's AU meme modernity ofc. It's hard to work. Without context, Astarion loses a lot. The medieval, vampirism and slavery is a big context. Depends on how painful it was. Let's say it went okay, a little uncomfortable, but normal. In modern times, if Tav was kind, he'd be something charitable, showy. For Tav and good for building influence, too. For love of the people. If Tav was more evil. He'd be doing something extravagant, still logical. Looking like a fool is not a best seduction tactic. For a good Tav, he'd create parks in the city, and support the arts, charities. For the evil Tav, he would seek influence in closed circles so that those she knows about (admires) would talk about him and his deeds like new skyscraper-hotels with casinos. In any field he would quickly become famous: a beautiful man with refined taste. Speaking of the Middle Ages, in Faerun. Depends on what Tav is interested in, it's magic - the best relics from around the world in Baldur's Gate. New opportunities for mages from all over Faerun. Come to Baldur's Gate. Warfare - don't even ask. Fella will climb into any dragon lair on his own to get to impress. (And have some fun). Astarion despite having goals, would quite enjoy and discover new things in the world. In general, he would get his way. I don't think it's even canonically obsessive, that you can't get off once, like a frenzy, nah.

He'd remember his personal plans, he'd party a lot, he'd be sad sometimes that Tav couldn't share the fun with him. Eventually he was able to taste the food again. There was so much around that he couldn't for 200 years. Seriously he would eat 10 kinds of desserts and enjoy them, forgetting everything. I prefer it when Tav loves everything and shares eternity, pleasures and decadence, the line of play. In this line-breakup I'm more interested in the “partners in crime” that Lord Astarion suggests. That's the fun line of the game.

Here, if Tav friendly agrees, he definitely:

Kinda Friendship Zone. But Astarion is ok with it.

-- Everyone on the Sword Coast thinks they're having an affair. -- He very often emphasized in the beginning that Tav was his friend, like a little poke. But he stopped doing that when Tav returned the favor. -- Astarion feels the need to touch Tav's hand. In general, touching Tav makes him feel better. This Tav is also tactile, she needs to touch someone she likes, someone she is friends with. -- That Tav is a druid. She turns into a frog if Astarion goes too far. And starts croaking. A thing that makes him angry, sad and happy. -- Astarion crosses the lines of edgy flirting while dancing. -- Sometimes Astarion thinks dark thoughts, but he always just thinks them. He has time. To lose her smile is to be a fool. -- He always sulks for about three days when their temprs clash. But that doesn't happen very often. This Tav is as calm as a toad in the sun. -- Surprisingly. He was so greedy for her time, literally, but he'd only gently invite her to join him - for a party, a walk, on a ship to Calimport. Tav had said no a few times. Needing to keep her distance, not to spoil the greedy dragon. And he'd just go like a cat and she'd be bored while he got the fun of traveling. He brought back souvenirs. But she would have liked to see his smile the first time he looked at this town. -- No friend in the Realms gets gifts like Tav. -- His legions of crows are on duty outside her house. Tav didn't mind, she didn't have the best opinion of the world anyway. They were showing up together, these rumors... who need to prick him, will prick her. -- At sunset they often walk together in the parks in the Upper City.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Starlight Symphony

Word Count: 676

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Sora x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the heart of the world that never was, where light and darkness blend into a twilight of possibilities, Sora found a companion unlike any other—a friend, a confidant, a partner in every adventure. She was a beacon in the ever-shifting shadows, her laughter a melody that could cut through the deepest gloom.

Their bond was unique, woven from countless shared moments and small acts of tenderness. Whether it was the first bite of a sea-salt ice cream under the radiant skies of Destiny Islands or the last piece of a star-shaped fruit as they watched the sunset from the clock tower in Twilight Town, Sora always insisted she taste the magic first. It was his unspoken vow, a promise of shared experiences and a life intertwined.

And then there were the kisses—soft, affectionate pecks on the tip of the nose that spoke a language of their own. Whether given or received, each was a whisper of affection, a fleeting touch that said more than words ever could. In these gentle exchanges, they found comfort and a reminder of the love that guided them through every battle.

"Sometimes, I wonder what lies beyond even the stars," Sora mused, his gaze lost in the celestial sea above.

She smiled, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "Wherever it is, I'm sure it's filled with new friends and adventures. Just like the worlds we've visited."

Sora chuckled, turning to her with a soft expression. "You're right. As long as we're together, there's no limit to the skies we can explore." 

"Have you ever thought about what it means to share a paopu fruit?" Sora asked, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of the universe's vast expanse.

She turned to him, her eyes curious. "Isn't it meant to intertwine our destinies forever?"

He nodded, his spiky hair catching the starlight. "Yeah, but it's more than that. It's about sharing everything—the good times, the tough battles, and even the quiet moments like this."

A comfortable silence settled between them, filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown over their journey. It was a bond forged not just in the heat of battle but in the peace that followed. 

Suddenly, a meteor streaked across the sky, its tail a blaze of glory that momentarily lit up the night. "Make a wish," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Sora closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Done. What about you?"

"I wished that no matter where we go, we'll always find our way back to each other," she confessed, her voice barely audible.

Opening his eyes, Sora leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek. "That's not just a wish. It's a promise," he said, sealing it with a gentle kiss on her forehead. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a paopu fruit, its star-like shape glistening in the dimming light. "Here, you should have the first bite," he offered, holding it out to her.

With a gentle nod, she accepted, taking a small bite. The sweetness of the fruit seemed to encapsulate their shared journey—a blend of joy, challenges, and unspoken promises.

"Thank you, Sora," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For sharing this moment, for sharing your heart."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with delight. "And thank you for always being my guiding star." Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss on the tip of her nose, a gesture that felt as natural as the bond they shared.

She laughed, a sound that danced with the wind, and returned the gesture, her lips brushing against his nose. "I guess we're just two stars drawn together, aren't we?"

"In every way," Sora agreed, his hand finding hers.

They stood up, hands still clasped, as they prepared to return to the Gummi Ship. "Ready to explore more worlds?" Sora asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Always," she replied, her heart full of anticipation for the adventures that awaited them, knowing that whatever worlds they would discover, their shared moments would be the true treasures they would cherish forever.

[bitchfitch]

Dead fish washed up along the banks. Their still twitching bodies boiled by the monster sheltering in their river.

The hero to be sighed his frustrations as he picked his way towards the source of this mess. The river steamed before it boiled, the water level lowered by the monster sitting in the middle of the bed. There was no water surrounding him, the heat of his small body evaporated any drop that got near.

The Villain, the boy, V, sat bare and alone, curled up on himself with his demonic tail whipping against the stone behind him. There'd been another incident, Connor hadn't stayed to listen to the details but this one was the first to have a potential body count. No one was dead yet, but the initial fire had left four badly burned and a stable without a roof.

V's powers were growing more and more with each day even as his ability to control them stagnated. It was a worrying turn of events for any young mage, a omen of the future to come for a prophesized demon king.

Connor undressed quickly when he was close enough. He may be fire proof, but his clothes weren't and V always made such a fuss when he accidentally seared something of Connor's.

"Go away," V snarled, not looking up from where he had his face tucked behind his boney knees.

"Nah. You successfully saved me from having to listen to another one of Madame Periwinkle's lectures about nature or whatever. I'm choosing to use this new free time to hang out with my friend," he sat behind V, leaning along his back and bumping their heads together.

"We're not friends." V curled tighter. He felt like a rock that had been warmed by the sun. Gentle and familiar even when Connor knew that if anyone else were to touch V when he was worked up like this, they'd have their flesh instantly evaporated. A part of him liked that. It meant V was safe even when Connor wasn't there to protect him.

"Yes we are. More than that even, we're practically brothers, V."

"You're going to kill me."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't escape fate. You're going to kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you. Ratna and I have already decided it. We're not going to let a dead guy decide out lives for us, and since we're ignoring the prophecy on every other front, I'm choosing to also ignore the part that says I'm going to kill my best friend."

"You have to kill me, there's no other choice. "

"Did you listen to anything -"

"I can't control myself Connor. I- I'm going to hurt people and I won't have anywhere to go and I'm going to be alone and hated and- and I'd rather you just kill me than make me have to find some other way to die."

"I'm here. Ratna wants to be your friend too. between the three of us... we'll figure something out, V. In her last letter she- don't tell her I told you -but she's started learning to control her magic. She's got this tutor, and thinks she might be able to help you too. Ratna wants to be the one to talk the teacher into it so we'll see how that goes-" he stops his ramble, "- What I'm saying is, you aren't going to be alone. Us, you me and Ratna? We're a set, and we'll do what we have to to stay together."

"I've never even met her," it was a weak protest.

"So? You will and you two will get along like rats and fleas," Connor let V settle into silence. The smaller boy was relaxing bit by bit and that was all they needed to worry about in that moment.

The water came back slowly as the heat of V's body calmed back to a normal for him level. Still too hot for anyone besides Connor to touch, but no longer was he so hot as to incinerate anything that so much as brushed him.

"Are they going to let me back into town?" V finally asked, his voice small and defeated.

"Probably. I talked to Lord Archibald before I came to find you and told him what actually happened. "

"That I let Devon get under my skin and burnt down a stable because of it?"

"No, that Devon and his lackeys were throwing stones and goading you while you were doing the cleaning."

"That's not true-"

"It is now. Archibald trusts my word over theirs and wants you in town for as long as possible. No need to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Most gift horses don't want to make you into a weapon."

"So? He's human, in the worst case scenario I can stab him to death for you," Connor grinned when that got a shakey laugh from V.

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

i've got to make a play

Pairing: Azul Ashengrotto x gn!Reader

Writing Genre: story

Genres: enemies to friends to lovers, fluff

Words: ~5.0k

Warnings: discussion of mining accidents/deaths (historically), me creating lore for Twisted Wonderland's mining industry -- and for Sage Island.

Notes: Since it's Azul's birthday I felt inspired to create him with one of my favorite tropes -- enemies to friends to lovers! I'd also like to note that I wrote this while I was sick, so hopefully it flows properly

Read it on ao3!

~~~

If there was anything more frustrating than your lack of magic, it was Azul Ashengrotto. The grandiose octomer with a cunning intellect masquerading as a benevolent wish-granter with no shortage of connections. You, however, were a deferential human with an honest attitude simulating a stubborn person with sharp wit swindling their way through a new world.

Needless to say, being partnered for a project together would be immensely frustrating… Professor Trein seemingly did not care, as he assigned you to work with the housewarden on the largest presentation of the semester.

That's what led you to a quiet argument with Azul in the library:

"Friede states here that the Kirchbarkau Mine is home to large amounts of silver and magestones.” you stated, taking note of the basic fact.

“Kirchbarkau does not contain magestones – the Lindewerra Mine does." the octomer corrected.

You huffed. "Really? And where did you read that?"

"The Economics of Mining Production in Pyroxene by Frederic Lyer."

"Lyer, huh? Where did you find it?"

"This library. Now are you done with your interrogation?"

You eyed him up and down suspiciously, "I suppose. For now."

Azul's eyes drifted to you from above his glasses, leveling you with an annoyed glare. You chuckled at his irritation before going back to flipping through the blue book in front of you.

—

The cool-toned lighting of the Mostro Lounge did not serve to soothe your grinding nerves. The cause? Octavinelle's housewarden and his kindness-laced condescension.

Looking over your notes? He crosses out what you've written and adds his paragraphs of thought.

Trying to divy up tasks? His back-handed words override your say.

And everytime you dish it back to him? A glare and retorts fill your eyes and ears.

Now, sitting across from him, you found yourself an inch away from grabbing and snapping his glasses.

"Are you finished ridiculing me?" you questioned with a sarcastic smile.

"Yes. For now." he spoke, reciprocating your smile and using your quip from the previous day.

You shook your head lightly at his actions before taking a sip from your lemonade.

"Anyways, I would like for us to go into town tomorrow to analyze and report on the island’s imports from Kirchbarkau. I would also like to visit the library there, since we have exhausted the colleges.”

“Alright. It sounds like a plan then, boss."

He huffed in vexation at your nickname before gathering his things and writing you one last note.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to return to work now. Jade will handle your bill."

You slid the paper toward you, who watched him with a smirk as he stood.

"What if you aren't excused?"

He looked slightly stunned at your audacity before asking, “And why wouldn’t I be?” 

You smiled smally and displayed a faux shy look as you stated, “I want to buy you dinner.”

He seemed dazed and somewhat embarrassed. “Why?”

You grinned roguishly, “Well, Mr. Ashengrotto, you’re handsome, charming, whip-smart and… quite frankly, I have a thing for humiliation.”

His flustered features quickly dropped into distaste as he scoffed and walked off. Your laugh sounded through the establishment, drawing a few eyes to you.

“It seems you’ve left quite the impression on Azul." Jade observed, setting a black leather clad folder on your table.

You hummed, "He is very easy to tease."

A smirk appeared on the vice's face, "Indeed."

—

We'll meet at 8 in the morning on Main Street near the gate.

You placed the note containing Azul's sprawling handwriting back into your bag. The streaming river passing by Sam's shop felt like a soothing brush over your unexplainable anxiety. As you ascended the stairs leading to Main Street, you admired the morning sun falling over the crown shaped arches leading to the Colosseum. The grey cobblestone under your feet eventually led you to the gate where the silver-haired mer stood.

"Good morning, Y/n." he greeted simply.

"Good morning, Azul." you returned.

"Before we leave campus, I want to go over today's itinerary. First, we'll visit a precious metal refinery before going to…"

The last of his words drifted to the background as you suddenly noticed how… pleasant… Azul looked this morning. A navy button-up, dark grey slacks, dress shoes, and a watch replaced his uniforms today, and the formal simplicity only added to his attractiveness.

“...and we’ll end the day at the Sage Island Library.”

You shook back to attention as he finished speaking. 

“Great! Now we just have to maneuver the zig-zag path down this mountain!” you added sarcastically.

He chuckled lightly in agreement, “I still do not see how the college has not come up with better transportation into town.”

You watched as he asked the nearby ghosts to open the large metal gates, slightly flustered at the different energy that surrounded your dynamic today.

—

The signature white and red colors of Sage Island reflected the morning light beautifully. The canaled water flowing in from the sea created a lovely reflection on the architecture, and you couldn’t help but admire the soft breeze as you followed Azul into a large shop titled: Precious Metal Refinery. A middle-aged man dressed in a white button-up, brown slacks, suspenders, and boots took notice of you and rapidly made his way to the door.

“You must be the students from Night Raven, correct? I’m Finley Heisenberg, the owner of this establishment.” he asked, sticking out his hand.

You exchanged names and formalities before he began guiding you through the small-scale factory as you and Azul took your own notes on his statements.

“First of all, we’re divided into two separate shops. Here, we take the precious metal scrap from Sage Island’s jewelers, dentists, crematoriums, and pawn shops, and isolate them through multiple processes to achieve them at their purest form. Afterward, we export them from the Southeastern Port where they travel north across the Coral Sea to the Queendom of Roses and occasionally south toward the Afterglow Savanna.”

He turned right, guiding you to an area where the air turned hotter.

“This is where we conduct pyrolysis. In this process, the noble-metalliferous products – your precious metals like gold, silver, and platinum – are released from the other materials by solidifying in a melt to become cinder and then poured off or oxidized.”

Finley walked further down the concrete floor to three vats.

“Here is where the metals can undergo the alternative initial process of hydrolysis. The noble metals are dissolved either in aqua regia, which is a solution consisting of hydrochloric acid and nitric acid, or in a solution of hydrochloric acid and chlorine gas. Subsequently, certain metals can be precipitated or reduced directly with salt, gas, organic and/or nitro hydrate connection.”

He took the both of you back to the front near a wooden door bridging the small factory to the next shop.

“Afterwards they go through cleaning stages or are recrystallized. The precious metals are separated from the metal salt by calcination. The noble-metalliferous materials are hydrolyzed first and pyrolyzed thereafter. The processes are better yielding when using catalysts that may sometimes contain precious metals themselves. When using catalysts, the recycling product is removed in each case and driven several times through the cycle.”

After his conclusion, he opened the door and gestured you through, “This is our manufacturing facility. Here we review, package, and track our exports. That’s about all there is to it within our side of it. Precious metals can be used for jewelry, electricity, medical technology, transportation vehicles, and so much more.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Heisenberg. I wish you great success.” you spoke with a nod.

“You’re welcome and thank you.” he stated.

—

By the time you left Finley’s refinery, the sun was nearing a perfect midday. The next stop on your schedule was a small business – Seville’s Jewelers. The owner was a young woman by the name of Lucia Seville. She told you that she had inherited the business from her mother, and that most establishments on Sage Island were generational. She shared her products, and you took note of the more robust yet charming look they had. According to Lucia, they were jewels she would purchase (with company money) from the local gem shows or import from the nearby Land of Dawning. She shared how funds were tight sometimes due to the process of acquiring materials, but with the money and connections that her mother established, it was never as difficult as it was for others she had met. With a few conclusory statements, you headed to your third destination of the day.

~

Dear’s Diamonds and Jewelry was the sign that a well-gardened and well–painted shop boasted. It was owned by a middle-aged man named Jim Dear IV, a third-generation jeweler of a company based in Pyroxene with a chain on the Isle. He said he relocated here since he had fallen in love with the environment back when he attended Royal Sword Academy. He stated that his own son was now enrolled there, and questioned if either of you knew him – unfortunately you had yet to meet.

After concluding your small talk, he showed you to one of the brightly lit cases containing shining rings, bracelets, and watches. He displayed the careful cuts of the jewels and even assembled a few pieces in front of you. He showed you how the watches were pieced together and discussed his sources for silver and platinum. When asked, he delved further into how the rings were heated, shaped, and went into the little details of refining them and personalizing them. Upon further interview, his charisma and pride for his business truly shone through.

After exchanging pleasant farewells, your interviews of the day were over.

You smiled as you strolled the streets, still infected by Jim’s enthusiasm.

Azul's gaze looked slightly perplexed before shifting to teasing, “You’ve never smiled so genuinely in my presence before, has my charm bewitched you so?”

A smirk bloomed on your face, “No, Jim Dear is just a dear.”

He chuckled quietly, “You’re insufferable.”

You reciprocated his chortle, “I could say the same for you.”

—

Your second to last destination – the Sage Island Museum. It was one of the largest buildings in town, and just so happened to have an exhibit dedicated to the history of mining. It was organized by most prevalent to least, with Pyroxene’s section first.

The Kirchbarkau Mine is a silver mine in the state of Aicher, Pyroxene. Its development led to the growth of the surrounding town and eventual capital, Hirschfeld, in the 1880s. Its orebody ran 24% silver, an extraordinarily high grade. It was acquired by Louis Richter in 1883.

Throughout the first decade of the 20th century, it was the most productive silver mine in Aicher. When the Industrial Revolution hit northern Pyroxene in the 1920s, the Kirchbarkau mine rose to become the highest silver yield in the region.

You shifted right to meet Azul at the History section.

The presence of silver ore in the Marloffstein Mountains of northwest Aicher may have been known as early as 1877, but the first mining claim was filed on 4 October 1878. In 1878, southern residents migrated north during what is known simply as the Northern Diffusion. One group in particular – the Visser Party, did not like the quality of the water. So, they sent 19-year-old Johann Visser to look for a better quality. During his search he found a spring along a very large cliff of limestone, known today as Burgfelsen, and on his return an outcrop containing silver in a canyon later known as Grabstein-Schlucht. When he arrived back at camp, he had his father send word back south to the city of Vaugervand, asking for the local government to file a claim over Johann’s findings. After a lengthy back-and-forth through post, the city agreed to file their claim and name Johann Visser in all notices of mining locations that he discovered. They provided him with money, materials, tools, food, and a map to the mining claim site, all in return for a share of future profits.

With this, the Visser family and their accompanying settlers formed the historic town of Hirschfeld in 1880. Similar to the appeal of gold in the west, the attraction to silver in the north drew the southern citizens there upon the spread of job requests for miners, and the average man needing a job. Quickly the town blossomed into a city, and had their own local government established. The name of the famous mine comes from the first mayor, Wilhelm Kirchbarkau, who personally endorsed the project. Soon enough, the Kirchbarkau Mine was operational and the amounts of silver ore being harvested boosted Hirschfeld’s economy greatly. With the rise in new technology and the importance of the noble metal increasing, more and more people gathered near its source, hoping to find the precious shiny grey themselves.

By 1883, the city had achieved its position as Aicher’s capital and cemented itself in history.

—

The soon-to-set sun casted shades of peach over the green, red, and white landscape. Many shadows fell upon the eastern island from the mountains, but the Southeastern Port was still illuminated. The warm cup of tea in your hand served slightly to fight the growing chill of the wind. The sounds of the water became louder as you heard the waves crashing against the side of the island. Port workers had begun to retire for the evening, heading back to their families for dinner. It was a pleasant reminder of life outside of NRC, and a refreshing break from your history project.

“I remember seeing this port once when I was younger.”

You turned your head to the left, witnessing an odd mix of emotions on Azul’s face.

“I had a… particularly rough day… and wanted a place where I could just be alone. I hid in the water between a few rocks over there, but curiosity drew me out. There were sailor's docking in for the evening, and one happened to drop a gold coin in the water. It was risky but I retrieved it,” he sighed somewhat contentedly, “If it weren’t for the sailor’s mishap, I never would have grown to enjoy coin collecting.”

Before you could respond, he abruptly straightened and spoke.

“Well, that’s all in the past now. Why don’t we head to the library? It’s getting dark and I believe they will close in just two hours.”

—

The Sage Island Library displayed gorgeous white bookshelves trimmed in gold. A small cafe was placed next door with large glass double doors separating it from the collection of books. The copious amounts of literature seemed like a herculean task to venture through, but luckily your silver-haired companion had a list prepared:

The Uncovered History of the Kirchbarkau Mine by Marguerite Beausoleil

Silver and Gold: How the Precious Metals Came to Be So Valuable by Eeva Laitinen

Pyroxene, A Nation Built on Nature’s Riches by Ira Brighton

After gathering the books, you found an unoccupied set of a table and two plush chairs. Azul left to fetch two hot cups of earl grey, and you settled into one of the chairs with the first book. Looking through the table of contents, you found the section you were searching for:

Chapter 4: The Devil Inside

The mining work conducted inside Kirchbarkau was extremely hazardous. After Louis Richter’s acquisition of the “Silver Queen”, the operators he appointed often routinely demanded that the miners work unpaid for long hours. They subjected the miners to intrusive physical strip searches, and followed dangerous practices like blasting while miners were in the mine and not permitting safety operators on drills and elevators.

A miner’s union was organized in 1914, when the mine was the site of a strike. Louis Richter resisted union organizing and illegally used private police to arrest more than 1200 miners and fellow protestors. They put them on railroad cars and expelled them from the city and area in what became known as the Hirschfeld Expulsion.

In one incident, a miner by the name of Herman Anson brutally murdered five of his coworkers in what is known as the Kirchbarkau Massacre. Anson had been stranded with his crew in the mine, but it is suspected that he trapped them. He used his tools to end their lives and they were not discovered until the following morning. Herman Anson was immediately arrested, and it was found upon investigation that it was not his first time killing. This tragedy has led to one of the most infamous spectral tales of the mine.

The sound of a heavy paper cup being placed on wood drew your attention from the grim details.

“I apologize, I was trying not to disrupt you.”

“No need, if anything it’s welcome.”

“Really?” he queried, sitting down across from you.

“Yes, the information is chilling.”

He grabbed his notepad before saying, “Would you mind recounting the details?”

As he wrote and you spoke, you couldn’t help the confusion you felt. From the start of the day to now at the end, something had seemed… different.

With more thought, you found that it was simple – you were more open to each other.

A small smile grew on your face as you finished relaying what you read. Maybe getting to know the octomer wouldn’t be that bad.

—

The following evening when you walked into the Mostro Lounge, you heard a shout from Floyd that Azul wanted to see you in the VIP room tonight rather than a booth. You sent an acknowledging shout back before venturing to the office.

Entering the room, you were greeted by familiar cool colors which popped when surrounded by dark woods, leather, and literature. At the forefront of the space was Azul, who was seated at his desk going through paperwork.

“Please, have a seat,” he began, gesturing to one of the leather loveseats, “I will have to continue working, but I would like for you to go over our notes from yesterday with me while I do so.” 

“Alright, sounds good.” you responded, sitting down on the left loveseat.

Seven different piles of paper sat on the oceanic coffee table, all from your trip into town. Three were of your interviews with Finley Heisenberg, Lucia Seville, and Jim Dear IV. The other four were notes from the museum and library. 

You grabbed the set from Finley first and got to work.

~

By the time you finished your review of the final book, your brain felt exhausted with the information. With a sigh you stood from the loveseat and approached one of the many shelves of books. You sensed eyes on your back as you scanned over the titles; many involved finance, economics, and history, but every now and then you found old mystery and romance novels. 

A book by the title Pleasure & Preconception drew your attention, and you reached out to grab it.

“What are you doing?” a seemingly weary Azul asked.

“I’m finished going over the notes, and you should take a break – there’s plenty of books in here so why not read one of them?” you replied, taking the spot closer to the silver-haired mer on the loveseat.

He seemed hesitant at the prospect, and even more so when he glanced at the book in your hands for a second time.

“What? Are you afraid I’ll find out you're just a hopeless romantic at heart?” you teased, opening the book to the first chapter.

He huffed before rising from his desk. He took the seat across from you on the opposite leather loveseat and settled in.

“I suppose I can spare a few minutes.”

With a small smile you began reading the classic romance aloud. The tale started with the protagonist and love interest’s initial dislike of each other. As you read further, you couldn’t help but see a growing parallel between their story and yours. Too immersed in the book, you failed to notice a rather exhausted Azul slowly falling asleep across from you. When you did, you quietly placed the book on the coffee table and decided to take a quick nap yourself.

~

Slowly, your eyes drifted open as your senses returned to consciousness. Rubbing your neck and lightly stretching your limbs, you noticed a still-sleeping Azul on the loveseat. His brows were furrowed, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. He seemed distressed, and when a hushed whimper left his lips, you decided to try and wake him.

Gently shaking his left arm, you calmly spoke, “Hey… Azul, wake up.”

After two more tries, he jolted awake with an element of panic. He was disheveled and his features looked perturbed as he took notice of your presence.

“Are you alright?” you questioned.

He cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and brushed off his clothes before standing from the loveseat.

“I’m perfectly fine.” he stated, trying to save face.

You sighed, not wanting to press any further, “Okay.”

He sat down at his desk and quickly shoved himself back into numbers and logistics.

As you gathered your things, you left him with one final sentence.

“Just remember that despite everything, I’m here if you need me.”

—

“What is it, Azul?” you asked groggily into the phone.

“I’m just calling in the favor you offered me.” he replied, sounding tiredly anxious.

You chuckled before dragging your hand across your face and shifting your blankets over.

“Remind me to never give you any leverage.”

“Why not?” he queried as light shuffling noises could be heard from the receiver.

“Are you really asking me that when you’re so infamous for swindling?”

“I could say the same for you. I’m not the only one that’s garnered the reputation of being a trickster.”

“I suppose you’re right.” you answered as you descended Ramshackle’s staircase.

“When am I not?” he teased.

You huffed as you turned on the kitchen light, “Your arrogance will be the death of me.”

“Are you sure it won’t be my charm?”

“Careful, Azul, you’re starting to sound like me.”

He snickered as you grabbed a mug and tea bag. You sat in a comfortable silence as you grabbed a kettle and filled it with water before setting it on the stove to heat.

“What are you doing?” you questioned.

“What are you doing?” he retorted.

You sighed halfheartedly, “If I tell you, will you tell me?”

“It seems like a fair deal.” he agreed.

"I'm making tea."

"What kind?"

"Chamomile."

He hummed.

"Now hold up your side of the bargain." you spoke playfully, taking the now whistling kettle off of the stove.

"I'm going through my records.”

“What kind?” you copied.

“My personal vinyl collection.”

You let quiet take over as he continued carding through the artists. You placed the tea bag into your mug and poured the hot water over the blend. As you left the kitchen and turned off the light, you decided to rest on the couch you had recently reupholstered for the dorm. A sage green blanket rested near two throw pillows, and you curled up into the cozy space before turning on the nearby lamp. A soft melody flowed through the phone, signaling that the silver-haired mer had chosen his album for the night.

Feeling comfortable and curious you asked, “Do you like music?”

“Quite so. It’s naturally something enjoyed by merfolk, but discovering the vast amount on land has been a lovely endeavor.”

“It seems so.” you said quietly before taking a sip of your tea.

The beautiful voice coming from the record only served to make the atmosphere restful, and soon you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open.

When you woke up the next morning to a frantic Grim shaking you awake and shouting about being late, you realized that you had fallen asleep on the phone with the housewarden.

—

Tonight, the environment of the Lounge faded to the background as your focus remained on its owner. You had come to begin assembling the final form of your presentation, but Azul had offered for you to share dinner first, and who would deny a good meal? Your food had been ordered and after a few bites you found it being set to the side in favor of inquisitive conversation.

"I am sure you already know plenty about me." Azul responded with slight playfulness.

"No, I truly don't! All I know is that you started collecting coins as a child, and that you enjoy Juliet Alderidge novels and vintage music." you retorted, stirring the special drink you had chosen for the night.

"And that is plenty."

You exhaled, "Okay, then what if I give you an irresistible offer?"

"I'm listening."

"I ask you three questions and you can ask me as many as you want, but I have to answer truthfully."

"Do you think you have any truly irresistible information?"

"You wound me." you said, feigning a pout.

"How unfortunate. I suppose I'll just have to satiate your curiosity, then." he spoke, leaning forward and folding his hands under his chin.

"I suppose so." you replied, mimicking his action.

With your charitable victory, you discovered three things about the silver-haired mer. One, when he was child, he would spend the occasional weekend preparing and gathering all kinds of little things to create his own dishes and serve them to his mother as if she were a judge. He commented that she always gave him a good rating even if he himself could tell it was not the greatest. Two, his first visit to the Southeastern Port was not the last, as his affinity for unique or rare currency, especially on land as a mer, grew. And three, his dislike for you had only been a facade since your first study day. He always enjoyed your banter and couldn't help but welcome the friendship you now had.

It brightened your mood to hear his stories, and you felt more of a bond with him afterward. When he told you the truth of his feelings however, you couldn't help but experience slight embarrassment and… happiness. You had to admit that you felt the same, it is lovely getting to know him.

Dinner and drinks continued until closing that evening, but neither of you seemed to mind.

—

Cream-coloured papers covered the entirety of the aquatic coffee table in front of you, black ink scattered all over them. Azul sat to your right on the leather loveseat, reorganizing the information as he saw fit. A notebook rested in your lap containing scribbled handwriting depicting different ideas and ways to connect themes from your studies. A few empty glasses sat forgotten on the edge of his desk, adding a worn feel that matched the crumpled balls of lined paper on the opposite loveseat. Tonight, was the final night of the two-week deadline the class had been given and everyone would be immersed in their work.

You ripped out the necessary pages of your notebook and spread them out on the loveseat vertically between you and Azul. He rose briefly to grab his own writing materials before you embarked on the hours-long journey of creating your final presentation.

~

A fresh glass of lemonade and butterfly pea flower tea rested in your right hand as you sighed contentedly.

“Now, just to revise and edit.” the housewarden stated, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

He leaned backward onto the plush backing of the loveseat, angling his head backward and sighing himself. Silence hung in the air as you simply stared at him, a peculiar admiration in your gaze. He removed his glasses and set them down beside him, and your eyes drifted to the delicate curve of his nose. He soon noticed your observance, causing his ocean blue eyes to meet yours. The eye contact flustered you, but your gaze didn’t stray.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, one of his silver brows quirking.

You waited for a moment before replying, “I think you’re beautiful.”

He seemed shocked – staring at you for a moment wide-eyed before looking away.

You chose to elaborate, “You know, two weeks ago I couldn’t stand you, but after our day in town I felt like something had shifted. We became more open to each other, and slowly as I got to know and see more of you… I found myself feeling more and more in love with you.”

He slowly appeared embarrassed, then stunned, and finally tender. He took a deep breath before turning back toward you.

“I have to admit that I carry the same sentiment.”

You gently grabbed his right hand in yours, caringly slotting your fingers between his and squeezing. Your hand left his before you slid it back under, tilting his fingers toward you. A kiss was placed on the back of his hand before your thumb rubbed over it. His eyes met yours once more, a determined look on his features and a light pink color to his cheeks.

In a bold move, he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. You were momentarily surprised by the action, but quickly softened to his touch. The movement of his lips on yours were fondly warm, and so was the kiss you left on his cheek as he retreated.

—

Professor Trein’s classroom of students went silent as they focussed on the presentation being given by you and your partner. Your voices sounded throughout the space, sharing the research that had brought you closer. Little glances would be shared as the other spoke, leaving a light sensation in your chest that would jump every time your hands brushed. They were simple actions, but they left you feeling like shining silver every time.

[alien-hybreed]

Story Master-List

Here you can find a complete list of my monster and transformation erotica that I've published to Tumblr!

You can also find summaries of my Characters on my Character Master-List (coming soon)

Aliens and Extraterrestrials -

They may not always come in peace, but they're certainly out of this world. Here you'll find a plethora of Aliens ranging from the almost human, to the utterly Monstrous.

Overtime: A nine-part series following a group of restaurant employees as their small town is gradually assimilated into an alien hive. Their manager just happens to be the hive queen turning everyone into drones and hybrids...

Contact: He awakes aboard their mothership. They tell him he is special, that's why they chose him to be their connection to humanity. Because he can repopulate their race. But what aren't they telling him?

The Abduction: Abigail's night is ruined. Her heart broken. Walking home late at night, she prays to God for a reprieve from her loneliness. But what answers her plea is something truly out of this world...

The Chimera: Jason has nightmares. So does his roommate Kelly. But is there perhaps a terrifyingly real element to their dreams of Alien abduction? And why are they suddenly so attractive to one another?

Insectoid Infection: A remote jungle planet, an isolated research facility and one very bored, frustrated soldier. But when she encounters an unusual lifeform, she finds herself developing a new appreciation for the local ecosystem...

Revenant: An ancient, alien demigod infiltrates a space station on the fringes of colonised space. The last of its kind, the Revenant is compelled to remedy that. A task it relishes when it imprints on one of the crew and plans to seduce her...

Replication Infestation: You trapped your friend in the room with an alien parasite. You wanted to see what would happen. Now that she has changed, she intends to repay you in kind...

Citation Needed: You know how you find diaries and research notes in a video game that gradually tell the story of how something terrible befell the crew of the empty Research station? Yeah.

Demons and the Supernatural -

The inexplicable bumps in the night, the entities that exist beyond the mortal coil. Ghosts, enchanted items, the Angelic and Demonic.

The Infernal Coronation: Part of the Demon Queen saga. The Demon Queen Allarielle was once mortal. A Paladin of fearsome remown. Then she was an Angel. So how does something so pure of heart become the Queen of Hell?

Demon Slayer's Descent: Part of the Demon Queen saga. Amelia is a living weapon, raised solely to destroy demonic trespassers and little else. However a chance encounter with an incubus may give her the chance to explore her darkest desires, but at what cost?

The Opening: Part of the Demon Queen saga. A haunted office is the last place you want to be at night. So when Danica and her boss, Glen, are called back in, is it at all surprising they are about to become the pawns of an otherworldly plot?

Ruined: A Relic found in ancient ruins inflicts it's bearer with a terrible Curse as he finds himself transformed into a giant spider-demon. Three women on the same expedition soon find themselves at its mercy, but even if they can escape... will they want to?

Purrfect Match: A late night hook-up takes a supernatural turn when a pair of enchanted collars are worn by a pair of lovers. Transformed into Werecats and compelled to complete an ancient ritual, these two may never be the same again...

Monsters and Mutants -

Not all monsters are born of Magic or in the vastness of space. Sometimes they're creatures lurking in the dark corners of our world or creations of our own science going horribly right.

The Experiment: Ally has been kidnapped. Her memory is shot, she's trapped in some kind of lab and a strange chemical now course's through her veins. But she isn't alone. Someone is in there with her and they're both being watched...

Date Night: It's Valentine's Day and Cam is late for his date. Because something happened to him. Amnesiac and consumed by his instinctive needs, Cam is compelled to make more of his kind.

Sticking Together: An adventurer is lost in the sewerage tunnels and stalked. But what exactly is this slime creature? What possible use could it have for him?

From the Depths: Nobody escapes their past. Especially when it returns from the bottom of the ocean, reborn as an enthralling, predatory mermaid. One way or another, she won't settle for anything less than her happy ending...

The Queen's Pet: Trapped in a giant underground hive, a man finds himself at the mercy of a giant bee-woman. Tormented, teased and coerced by his captor, its only a matter of time until his will to resist her begins to break.

The Willing: A monsterfucker gets the chance to experience her fantasy for real. It's everything she hoped for, it's put a spring in her step, her skin is healthy, people are finally noticing her. But what else is changing? And at what point will it stop changing?

Into The Meteor-Verse -

Superhero Multiverses are all the rage right now and Captain Meteor? She's the strongest hero there is! Which makes it kinda weird how she keeps failing and getting turned into a monster in every reality she exists in. How and into what... varies...

Lizard Brain: A horrible lab accident creates a monster that only a superhero could hope to stop. But when the mighty Captain Meteor is exposed to the Lizard creature, she finds herself experiencing a change of heart, mind and body...

[sea-owl]

So continuation on my hunter x witch polin au. I just kinda wanted to world build a bit.

"Colin!"

Colin jumped at the sound of his name. He had only just stepped through the door after leaving the witch's home, and three of his siblings were waiting for him.

Anthony and Benedict were still in their gentleman's clothing. Daphne, who was also with them, had yet to change out of her hunting dress with the removable skirt.

"Are you alright Colin?"

Colin nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. I just had to rest for a bit after tha fight with the gorgon."

Colin knows he should have told his family, or at least Anthony, about their new neighbors. He knows he should have, but damn it, he was curious.

Magical creatures don't just blend themselves around humans like this, especially humans of high society. Not since before the dark ages when the last of the ancient kingdoms fell. A time when humans were not only fighting wars amongst them but with magical creatures too. After that, magical creatures mainly kept to themselves in isolated areas. From Colin's experience, witches prefer the natural world and would be more likely found on the edges of coasts or hidden by the trees of forests. They don't end up in Mayfair!

Colin was also curious about that mind witch. He's almost positive she has put some sort of spell on him because why won't he stop thinking about her? And why would she heal him? Yeah, witches typically aren't on the hunters' radars, but that more has to do with them keeping to themselves, not that they like one another. If it was any other witch she probably would have left in the street for fate to decide what happened to him. That baby witch with that shotgun seemed to agree with that sentiment.

"You know you don't look like you've been in a fight with a gorgon," Daphne will tell him later as she looks him over for injuries. "Which is peculiar since I know that that gorgon managed to cut you with her claws right here." Daphne pinched Colin's side which had no signs of being injured at all.

Colin had to admit that mind witch did good work.

"Daph!" Colin exclaimed when Daphne pinched him again.

Daphne sat across from Colin. "Colin, what really happened after we were seprated?"

Colin paused. He knows he should tell at least one of his siblings about their new neighbors but he found he wanted to keep the witches across the square his secret for the moment. Or at least until he can satisfy his curiosity.

Damn what spell did that mind witch put on him?

-

"Felicity, do you need anything while I'm out?" Penelope asked as she adjusted her cloak and hood.

"Where are you going?" Felicity asked. The young witch was practicing her potions work. Particularly measuring out her ingredients.

"Mama asked me to get a few ingredients today. I'll be in Cambridge for a little bit."

Felicity let out an excited noise. "A papaya! If you're going to Cambridge, can you see if Phillip has a papaya!"

A papaya? Penelope turned to look back at her sister. No one in their coven here in England or in Ireland has never used a papaya in their potions or spellwork before.

Maybe Felicity was trying something new? She did make friends with that witch from the Americas recently.

Penelope found herself nodding. "I can see if Phillip has a papaya."

Felicity grinned brightly. Excitement in her eyes. "Thank you!"

Penelope adjusted her hood and walked into the library. Pulling out an atlas, she turned the pages until she found one of England. From there, she pulls out a moonstone and malachite compass and sets it over Cambridge. Leaking her magic into the compass the witch pictures the university town. Whispering in a language forgotten by mortals, she whispered, "Allow me to voyage on the beams of light."

A tug on her magic and Penelope has found herself in Cambridge.

"Now where is my favorite vampire," Penelope said as she tuned into the thoughts around her.

We shall celebrate with drinks tonight!

Mr. Hawthorne would be a good candidate to approach . . .but how to get his attention? All her cares about are drink and women

If I crossbreed plant A and plant C then should produce a bigger crop and a sweeter fruit.

"There he is," Penelope said as she made her way into one of the University's churches. Walking inside she let her hood drop.

But combining plant B and plant D could make the fruit ripe faster if crossbred.

Penelope glanced to her left. Sitting if the rear pew was a brown haired vampire. She took a seat next to him.

A vampire and a witch walk into a church. Penelope giggled in thought, sending the message from her mind to Phillip's. Penelope giggled.

And the hunters lost their minds. Phillip replied in his mind.

Penelope giggled again.

Phillip looked over at Penelope. Another pickup Penny?

Penelope nodded. With the season starting soon, Mama wanted to stockpile on roses for beauty potions.

Phillip nodded. Getting up, Penelope readjusted her hood over her head. Phillip made sure the brim of his top hat was low enough so the shadow would protect his sensitive eyes along with his tinted spectacles.

The two made their way to Phillip's rented home, which also doubled as his greenhouse thanks to spells he traded with the Featherington coven.

Every available surface was covered in some sort of plant. Phillip organized each room by the conditions each plant needed to survive.

Penelope took a deep breath as they entered. It always smells so lovely in here. One would never guess a vampire owned all this.

Phillip rolled his eyes. "I'm not exactly a normal vampire."

"No, you're not Pip," Penelope agreed smiling at her friend. "At least not like the ones they tell in stories around here. Who would have thought if you traveled further south, you would find vampires similar to fruit bats. And that they can produce offspring with blood sucking vampires."

"No one from around here would," Phillip said as he popped a raspberry into his mouth to suck on. "So what are we getting today?"

Penelope pulled out a list. "Mama requested a dozen red roses, a dozen white roses, raspberries, strawberries, and Felicity wants a papaya if you have one."

Phillip paused his gathering of the order. "A papaya?"

Penelope nodded. "That's what she requested."

"For spellwork or potions?" Phillip asked.

"I'm not sure," Penelope said. "Felicity made a new friend in the Americas recently and they've been writing to one another. I don't know if she wants to use it as an ingredient though or if she wants to eat it."

Phillip shrugged his shoulders and the two made their way into the tropical room. A flash of humidity hit Penelope when the door opened. The fruit Phillip picked up reminded Penelope of a squash in shape, the color green with a some yellow. Phillip then picked up two other fruits. One of them was rounder, the coloring being red and green. The other was a very dark green

"Here's the papaya," Phillip said handing Penelope the squash shaped fruit. "Both the seeds and the meat inside the fruit are edible. And if Felicity is interested in more tropical ingredients mangos and avacods are also popular ingredients. Don't eat the seeds for these those."

"Thank you Pip," Penelope said, placing all the new ingredients in her bag. "Do any of the spells need to be updated while I'm here?"

"The cold snap room could use a little bit of attention."

Penelope nodded. "Of course."

The cold snap room was a special area of the greenhouse that was mainly used as rest area for plants that go dormant during the winter months. Or if a plant benefits having some time in a colder environment. Stepping into the room Penelope could tell what Phillip meant. The temperature was a little warmer than what it should be. She'll have to adjust it.

They both took a seat at a nearby table Phillip took notes at. Penelope worked her magic on the spell around her.

"How is your new home? You recently moved to London correct?" Phillip asked.

"It is a new experience," Penelope answered. Her thoughts wandered back to the hunter. There was something about him that reminded her of the fay she grew up with. Hidden meanings in his words, like a puzzle or a secret to learn. Penelope always did like learning what those hidden meanings were. "I actually met an interesting neighbor the other day. He was a hunter."

Phillip looked up, concern washing over his pale features. "A hunter."

"He lives across the square from us actually," Penelope continued.

Phillip shook his head. "Your mama is gonna have a fit."

"Oh most defiantly," Penelope agreed. "Felicity actually almost shot him with sunshine."

Phillip couldn't help the laugh that came out.

[chronicas]

I've been following you for so long but I know nothing about your OCs (how? Idk.) so how about a basic rundown or something? Who's on the roster.

Ooooh man we've got a menagerie of guys over here in the Noxsylvaniaverse. Sorry I went overboard.

WELCOME TO THE NEW REQUIRED READING (joking)

ARRAY OF CICADAS Akira Akamatsu -> Devan Ranim -> Karma Gjalleon

Genre: Fantasy, Sci-fi Core themes: Comradery, grief, and redemption

Array of Cicadas is about a girl struggling with grief and the adventure that helps her come to terms with it. Akira is the protagonist (but not the main character) of AoC. Growing up in the magical realm of Genesis, Akira was raised as a Fire Mage, hiding from her family and everyone she knew that in reality she's an extremely rare Elemental Mage. She hid her power solely because she REALLY didn't like the son of the dragons (Ryuji, he's on this list in spirit) who would've become her teachers had she revealed herself. She moved from her magical homeworld to live on Earth and go to college after her sister's death. Family drama gets her thrown into Hveske where she meets her soon-to-be best friend, Devan! Devan is best described as Positive Change Personified. As the true main character of the story, there are very few people who's lives aren't improved by having this little guy in it. He meets Akira in the middle of his own personal quest to help his friends take down the Izebellian Empire, that's currently threatening to take over his home realm Hveske. Devan might still be just a kid, but he's always coming up with bright ideas that've gotten him and his friends out of dozens of scraps. Karma Gjalleon is the main antagonist of AoC. An unknown threat looms far greater and more powerful than that of the Izebellian Empire, that is the Regicidal Regent, Karma Gjalleon! She was once ruling regent of Hveske a few thousand years ago, but decided to broaden her horizons and now plans to conquer the entire universe! Her desire is to eradicate all tyranny by becoming the ultimate tyrant, once she has successfully done this, she wishes to be taken down herself by a righteous hero.

Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia Serendipity Grace Vulcan -> Salem Graves -> Qwynn Vandale

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Mystery Core themes: Identity, love (DIFFERENT from romance), stress/pressure

Array of Cicadas: Cryptadia is the second installment of AoC, taking place at the same time as the first. Akira disappears from the small Coloradian town of Adderdeen, kicking off a series of events that binds three of the town's most extraordinary people together to solve an interdimensional mystery. Serendipity is a teenage vampire who's adoptive family sent her to Adderdeen to study under the renowned Master Alchemist James Emperor. Serendipity lives with a poorly understood condition that makes it difficult for her to use her own magic, therefore she had to give up the family trade of witchcraft to learn about a more external magic like Alchemy. She struggles best she can to keep up with her magical studies as well as her high school studies as a foreign exchange student at Adderdeen High School. After she's found out as a vampire by her classmate Qwynn, she gets roped into a whole new world of mystery. She just hope her grades don't suffer too much as a result. Salem is a local celebrity in Adderdeen as host of a popular local radio show he titled The Nightwatch, a show cracking down on local supernatural sightings. He also balances his job as a mortician on top of it as well as raising his teenage sister single-handedly.. all while not letting it slip he's West Virginia's Very Own Mothman! After an encounter with an old moth-like spirit and a chaotic interdimensional entity at 13, Salem has to deal with being a towering moth monster when he's not in his glamored human form. He also takes on the daunting task of keeping the supernatural hotspot of Adderdeen a simple tourist town without letting the truth of the supernatural slip up. Qwynn is a simple teenage girl with simple aspirations. She wants to keep up her honor student status, get a good scholarship, get into a good, local, college, and also help her parents with their Monster Hunting Gig. Daughter of a human mother and a werewolf father, Qwynn is the only of her three siblings to not inherit lycanthropy from her father, much to her annoyance. Without claws or fangs to take down some of Adderdeens more unnatural inhabitants, Qwynn has to improvise with quick and flashy magic and even faster blades. All for the good of a town that will ideally never know the service her family provides. She makes it a point to investigate any strange happenings in Adderdeen, so it doesn't take long for her to figure out her new classmate is secretly a vampire or that the mortician who works with her mom is Mothman.

Array of Cicadas: [REDACTED] Penumbra -> Aranea Weltgeist -> Izebel Lucifer Walpurgis

Genre: Fantasy, Sci-fi Core themes: Knowledge, war, hope

Not much I can say about this installment as it would spoil the mysteries I'm setting up for AoC and AoC:C. But I CAN say this third and final installment of this story sets up the final confrontation and brings all our previously introduced characters together. Penumbra is a force by which many things have come to an end. Two thousand years ago she was merely a scientist who aspired to know more about the world around her. Her drive to learn more was inevitably her downfall. Her lover and enemy, Kirke, would later go on to use her findings to create a curse meant to Destroy the Universe. Aranea is a teenage visionary Created by her Father Out of Love using Alchemy. Her father, Issac Weltgeist, was found and murdered by the Izebellian Empire for his reasearch as a Master Alchemist. As a homunculus herself, Aranea was kidnapped in case she hid any secrets of her fathers research. Quickly dismissed by Kirke as useless to the empire's research on homunculi, Aranea was told to watch after the child Empress Izebel, who was only a few years younger than Aranea herself. Aranea spent the next two years searching for a way to escape the empire. Her plans where put into motion early when she found they had acquired the legendary sword Excalibur. Stealing the sword, Aranea made her escape. Izebel is a bit more of a figurehead as Empress of the Izebellian Empire. She was created by the sorceress Kirke to be the vessel for her curse. While she is a living source of destruction, Izebel is treated with respect by her underlings. However, the only person to truly show her kindness, was Aranea. Izebel quickly took to viewing Aranea as an older sister, and demanded she be treated with the respect an Empress' sister deserved. She did her best to give Aranea everything she wanted to make her happy, but refused to let her leave. When Aranea finally escaped, she left Izebel confused, heartbroken, and enraged.

Mother of the Apocalypse Alexios -> Asterius Polaris -> Armageddon

Genre: Cyberpunk, Fantasy, Tragedy Core themes: Family, lies, perseverance

MotA has nothing to do with AoC, and is instead it's own independent world. It's a story about a prophecy told by the Goddess of Fate to her oracles. That entails the end of the world at the hands of the Mother of the Apocalypse, only able to be stopped by the Savior of the Rim. How this prophecy ends, is up to Fate. Alexios is the son of Kepus, the Goddess of Life and Death, and himself, the Savior of the Rim. He much despises his own title. All he did to earn it was stop a Colossus that was bent on the destruction of a Spire. Now he's wrapped up in probably the dozenth prophecy in a life that's lasted over a millennia. Problem with this prophecy is that it wants him to kill someone to save the world, and he put such violence behind him centuries ago. With his newly adopted child to take care of, Alexios can't think much on how he'll save the world while sparring it's vessel of destruction. Asterius is the son of Taphion, the God of the Crypt, and Septentria, the Northern Star. However he spent the first 13 years of his live believing himself a demigod who had a human mother he never hat the opportunity to meet. Once his true identity was revealed to him, as well as his role in the prophecy as the Beast of the Crypt, a monster born to stand as the guardian of the Mother of the Apocalypse, he ran. He landed in the care of a hero, who he would later discover was the very man destined to kill him, the Savior of the Rim. After Alexios became determined to find a way to break the "curse" on Asterius (a clever lie the kid fabricated so he didn't have to reveal to his would-be murderer who he really was), the man came to see Asterius as his own child. As much as Asterius loves his new father, he can never bring himself to tell him the truth. Armageddon is the titular Mother of the Apocalypse. Daughter of Ignarus, the God of Destruction, she is destined to raze civilization to the ground. Unfortunately for Ignarus, she would rather die than have any part in the Apocalypse he curated for her. When the Savior of the Rim does finally come for her, she and Alexios' mutual interest in stopping the Apocalypse though means different than Fate has offered draws them closer together. Armageddon comes to believe that maybe their love will prove stronger than Fate herself.

LIZ and the Biohazards Logan Griffiths -> Samantha Griffiths -> Miriam Riveria

Genre: Horror, Sci-fi Core themes: Rebellion, survival, girlhood

Oh man I would love to tell y'all ALLLL about this comic, but as I am literally working on the script rn, you'll have to wait and see for most of it. But MAINLY, it's a story about a teenage science experiment who grew up in a lab and decides to break free and experience all the world has to offer. (Previously titled Unchained Phenomena) Logan Griffiths is labeled by most of the people who know him as a crazy conspiracy theorist, but Logan knows what he's seen and what he's heard. His son was sent to war almost 18 years ago and never came back. The last letter he received from his son detailed the horrors he had seen on the front lines, saying he fought beside people who "weren't people anymore". Ever since Logan has worked to crack down on the government's experiments on humans, and expose what decades of propaganda and coverups have worked so hard to hide. One disaster strikes the government base he's spent a decade studying, and his answers are delivered right to him with one phone call from some friends. He just didn't expect them to come in the form of a young girl. S-072, or Sam, as she prefers to call herself now, was created in a government lab after the Bio War ended in an attempt to bolster Texas' defenses as it stands on the brink of independence. S-072 was designed for espionage, with the original intent being to create a human who could alter their physiology to mimic anyone. However, while she can indeed alter her physiology, the raw-looking flesh and bone she is able to warp and change isn't going to pass as anyone alive. After the initial failure, they found that S-072 was better suited for just slaughtering things. She could withstand bullet wounds after training, she could warp herself into her own weapons, and was overall the perfect killing machine. Too bad someone started putting ideas in her head. Miriam is a survivor of war. She wasn't a soldier, but she was a sister, and a daughter. Her hometown was hit with a biological weapon and she lost her family and was left sick, disabled, disfigured, and traumatized. She did her best to survive, but unable to work, living on fixed income wasn't cutting it. When the government offered her an experimental cure for her illness, she took it without reading the fine print. Subjected to many experiments, but never a real cure, Miriam plotted a way out.

THE MIXED BAG OF RANDOM GUYS! "Charlie" -> Caelum Ketch - Jinlong

Dream Journal: The Central Mind

Genre: Horror, Sci-fi Core themes: The unknown, death, grief

This story is from a dream I had that I've reworked to make a story that I'd love to make into a short comic someday. The basic idea of the dream (maybe nightmare) was there was a family that lived on an island who were studying an interdimensional entity. Shortly after they moved to this island, their daughter died. Something, someone else.. came back. "Charlie" is the name of the person who is distinctly NOT Charlotte to anyone who looks close enough. A fragmented piece of a much larger entity with the mind and memories of the late Charlotte, Charlie is just trying to solve the mystery of why her family keeps acting so strange around her.

Cache of Sybaris

Genre: Sci-fi Core themes: Idk man it's just fun Space Pirates babeyyyyyy

The Sybaris Galaxy celebrates the many rich cultures that exist within it, art and culture is a top priority of the Galactic Union! So when the entirety of the latest Trivlexian exhibit on the planet Nik is stolen by Captain Wretch and her band of pirates, it becomes a Galaxy wide chase to steal it back! Especially to other pirate crews who might never have the chance to catch a better score. Ketch is one of such pirates who's crew is after Captain Wretch and her recently stolen goods. While most are after the art that was in the exhibit, the crew of the Red Death is much more interested in the Trivlexian technological artifacts. Namely because Ketch, the crew's finest mechanic, is Trivlex himself. Ketch knows well enough that anyone who isn't rich enough to be able to conveniently ignore is knows all Trivlexian artifacts are stolen, but he has no noble ambitions for his people's artifacts. He just wants to make better weapons and improve his crew's ships. Regardless of how many bounties it gets on his head in the process.

Shifting Stars and Moving Mountains

Genre: Fantasy Core themes: Grief, change, culture

SS+MM is a story that takes place in the same universe as Array of Cicadas, but remains mostly disconnected from the main story. It follows the dragons of Genesis, their politics, culture, and how they influence the rest of the realm. Jinlong is a young dragon, just a few decades over 500, who grew up during the Great Dragon Hunts. Jinlong lost both of his parents in the hunts, he survived the only way he could in such a time of hostility towards dragons, he lived as a human. A human family took him in and treated him as their own. Jinlong spent so long as a human he slowly lost touch of what it meant to be a dragon. After his youngest human sister died at the EXTREMELY impressive age of 200, Jinlong was taken in by Sage Ragnormr, an ancient dragon who advised him to rest. And rest he did, for 2000 years, Jinlong slept, regaining the strength he expended from holding his body in human form for so long. He awakes in the modern era, things have changed drastically, and this little dragon needs to learn what it really means to be a dragon again.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND I have 400+ other ocs that I won't cover on this post, but if anyone is ever curious about my silly little guys, there's nothing in the WORLD that brings me more joy than getting to talk about them with other people :)

[smashlovesscream]

Songs that remind me of Stu and Billy

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

OKAY, SO I HAVE THESE BY ALBUMS (I'll hear a song I like and make myself go through the whole album to make sure there aren't other songs I like.)

IGOR (By Tyler, The Creator)

New Magic Wand

I feel like this is pretty self-explanatory

"My brother said I'm on the spectrum

Don't call me selfish, I ain't sharin'

This 60-40 (isn't) workin'

I want a hundred of your time, you're mine," 

(Both point of view of Stu and Billy. Billy kind of wanted Stu to focus on him and surprisingly not in a relationship way but in general ‘cause in the start it was just them.)

"I wanna be found, passenger in your car (Don't leave)

You wanna be mean, mixed signals don't park (I can make her leave)

She's gonna be dead, I just got a magic wand (Don't leave)

We can finally be together,"

(Mostly Stu. Wanting to leave a mark on the world but with Billy, if Billy dies, he wants to be by his side. If Billy lives, he wants to be by his side but he’s conflicted with his sudden changes when it comes to his actions. One moment a display of love and another of disgust. He’s somewhat into it but confused as well.)

"Take one look in the mirror, implications so clear

I live life with no fear, except for the idea

That one day you won't be here

I will not fetch the ball,"

(Mostly Billy, of course he’s tricked himself into thinking “I love Stu but only because he’s the only person I have left.” kind of way. He doesn’t realize how much Stu matters, just like how he didn’t know how much his mom mattered until he left.)

"I got a plan, 'bout to walk in the pen

If you can't understand, I'm a hawk in the gym

Eyes on the prize, got weight on my chest

That I need to get off, or I ain't talkin' to them,"

(Also Billy, he has his eye on the ball. Nothing is getting in the way of killing his friends and terrorizing his town, he believes in the euphoric feeling he got when he killed Maureen and knows it’ll multiply by thousands once he’s done with Woodsboro.)

Puppet

Honestly, the entire song is just Stuilly (Mostly stu point of view, he knows he’s gonna follow, he’s gonna obey with his little snarky comments and his small acts of deficiency but nothing to ruin Billy and his mindset.)

Are We Still Friends?

"Don't get green skin (green skin), keep contact (keep contact)

Don't say, "Goodbye, smell you later" (bye, later)

Nah, I can't

I don't want to end this season on a bad episode, , nah,"

I feel like this describes when the plan kinda goes to shit and Billy leaves Stu in the kitchen, then Stu tackles Sidney, and they both die. (Both of their POVs, the first two being Stu and Billy being the last two. )

THERE IS A LOT MORE SONGS THAT IS STUILLY CODED IN THAT ALBUM BUT I LIKE THOSE THE MOST

PARALYTIC STALKS (By xxofMontrealxx)

We Will Commit Wolf Murder

"Something's terrorizing my psyche to get even

Lately, you're the only human

I believe in,"

"Now I'm considered ugly

From every angle

You're the only beauty

I don't want to strangle,"

(Billy's point of view, I really like how this song reminds me of this good disgusting feeling you get with someone. Anyways, how this fits him is his mom just left him, his dad betrayed his family, Sidney’s mother is to blame, Sidney can’t know nor will she even believe Billy, Randy isn’t as close to Billy like Stu is therefore he’s the one, he’s the purest thing right now.)

"I want to get all fucked up

And tell you how I really feel

(Billy again, feeling scared to admit he’s scared, sad, upset, angry, and overall feeling things but it’s digging at his throat and he wants to break down and dismantle in front of his partner in crime. His best friend. But can he really? Maybe with a push.)

Because your vibrant blackness

Coco artery is so unreal,"

(Stu this time because Billy is like a black hole that Stu loves. To Stu, Billy is that night time cold that is perfect to hide under the covers, the sun that beats on his back while he does yard work, and the thing that makes him feel seen.)

"When I die I want you to die too

Not try to stay in this all

In a dimension without you

Spit on this planet without you,"

(BOTH OF THEM OFC, THEY JUST WANNA BE THERE FOR EACH OTHER.)

AND THERE IS SO MANY MORE LINES BUT THESE ARE MY FAVORITES AND I EVEN SKETCHED OUT SOME OF THESE LYRICS

Sports (By Modern Baseball)

Re-Do

"I wanna complete re-do, maybe change my name

Report the losses grab the claim, it's a shame it's such a shame

We're pissing away our time 'cause we're pissing away these beers

No monumental moment ever came from saying

"Come on dude, just take one more shot","

"Maybe I could just move away or go extinct like a triceratops

But I love loving, watching movies, sitting back and also breathing

My family and friends would be crushed, but is it enough?

(Oh no, it's not enough)

Oh, the future freaks me out, but I guess I could just

Curl up in a ball and think,"

Now, this song is mostly an AU I've created in my head where Stu wakes up after dying and tries to change Billy's mind about killing the friend group. Not 'cause he dislikes killing but because he wants to live with Billy.

She Wants Revenge (By She Wants Revenge)

Red Flags and Long Nights

"You can occupy my every sigh

You can rent the space inside my mind

At least until the price becomes too high,"

(I feel like this could be about Tatum 'cause the "price" being her demise? If that makes sense, Stu's POV.)

"I can find a reason that we should quit

I can find a reason to do it

I can find excuses for all my shit

She tells me just to work right through it

(Mostly Stu thinking about Billy, stringing him along to the plan, catching his feelings for him.)

She's pretty, and I like her but she's too well

'Cause I need red flags and long nights, and she can tell

It's not that it's my fault, it's just my style

Beginning with a look and then a smile,"

(Stu when he's with Tatum 'cause as I said in an earlier post, Tatum is like the sane Billy.)

Tear You Apart

"Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak

And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak

An escape is just a nod and a casual wave

Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days,"

(Stu being in love lol??? Idk but it's just giving me them vibes)

"It's only just a crush, it'll go away

It's just like all the others it'll go away

Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know

You pray it all away but it continues to grow,"

(BILLY IGNORING HIS HOMO THOUGHTS!!!!)

"I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, and close your eyes girl

So lovely, it feels so right,"

"I want to hold you close

Soft breasts, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart,"

(IT'S THEM GUYS!! THEY WANNA BE IN EACH OTHER'S SKINS!!!) 

Basically the rest of the song is like this!! AGSJ

[sorcharavenlock]

42. A man of mystery.

I call Nea and Kitty the next day. As always, they are up for a new adventure!

Nea drives while Loki casts the spell Frigga taught him to divine the whereabouts of this magic quill.

After a few hours, we arrive in a strange little town called "Forgotten Hollow".

Nea parks the cars and Loki weaves his magic.

"Please let it not be in that creepy mansion over there," I say to Nea.

"It's in that creepy mansion over there!" Loki yells cheerfully over his shoulder.

"I should have brought Dean," Kitty grumbles. "This place is giving me the creeps."

"I kind of like it," Nea shrugs. "It's awesome in a spooky sort of way!"

It is early September, but snowflakes are already drifting down from the sky above. I shiver. This whole place is weird!

"Are you sure it's there?" I ask Loki.

"Do you not trust my magic?" He replies archly.

"Just cast the spell again please, just to make sure."

"Well, that answers that question," Nea grins.

Loki makes his way to the door.

"It's open," he says as he steps inside.

"Loki! You can't just walk into someone's home unannounced!" I follow him with a sigh.

"Why not? it gives us the element of surprise!"

The home owner sure seems surprised!

"Nea, isnt' that the guy we met in the club?" Kitty asks.

"What do you think you are doing just barging into my home?"

"My name is Loki, son of Odin, formerly prince of Asgard, god of Mischief." loki introduces himself politely.

"We are looking for a powerful atrifact and my scrying spell led me to your home."

"My name is Valentin," V says. "And whther you are a prince or a god doesnt' matter, you can't just come barging into my home!"

"My sincere apologies, we weren't certain what to expect," Loki apologises smoothly.

Valentin invites us to take a seat.

He seems rather taken with Nea.

"We are looking for Hela's Quill," Kitty explains. "Wwe are hoping we could borrow it so we can bring Loki back to life."

"Hela's Quill? I have it here, yes. It is not something I particularly care for, I have to admit. You are free to take it. Follow me."

We follow him down the stairs into the basement where we find an underground hedge maze.

"Well, this place just keeps getting weirder," Nea comments.

Valentin just smiles. "You should see the rest of the house. perhaps i'll show you around some other time."

"This is Hela's Quill. You are free to take it, but i'm afraid it won't do you any good."

"We have a capable author amongts us," Loki explains.

"That is not the problem. The problem is that the author has to write down the subject's life story before said subject dies. It wont' work posthumously, I'm afraid.

But feel free to take it. I'd rather be rid of it, if I am to be honest."

Loki takes the quill, not showing his dissapointment.

"Come, let's go," I say. "let's give Valentin and Nea a chance to talk!"

We walk out of the door just as Valentin sits himself down at his pie organ.

"See, he gets to have an organ," Loki grumbles.

"This is quite the place you've got here," Nea says.

"It belonged to my Father's family. They were strange people."

"And your mother?"

Valentin glaces at the door Loki just left through. "They are even stranger," he smiles.

"Yeah, that isn't mysterious at all," Nea mutters to herself. "You aren't going to tell me more about yourself, are you?"

"No, not right now," Valentin grins. "perhaps the next time."

"You said that the last time," Nea points out.

Valentin stands up and takes her hands into his.

"I promised you we'd meet again, and so we did."

"You couldn't possibly have known we'd walk into your house today," Nea points out.

"Couldn't I?"

"Well, I suppose I've seen a lot weirder stuff recently," Nea admits.

"Good. Because having me in your life means you'd better get use to the strange and unexplainable."

"Does that mean I'll see you more often?"

"Oh yes. I am certain we are destined to meet again," Valentin says with a smile that makes her go weak at the knees, not that Nea would ever admit to that!

"But you should go now, your friends are waiting for you."

"Farewell, my beautiful Nea. Until we meet again."

[cloud-somersault]

I agree with your point on wukong having other priorities that aren't just all Maacque. (as much as I love shadowpeach) I want to see wukong just like...fucking gardening, or building a fence, or shit going to his favorite spot off mountain to have a picnic and oversee a town getting sacked by raiders and just steps in cuz they are gonna ruin his lunch! Yeah I agree, they need to also live their life!

aw, that would be cute! Wukong gardening 🥺💕 Like, actually putting in the work instead of relying on magic. But yeah, he should have hobbies outside of his relationships. Aside from just watching television.

And I think he does in the show, though mostly he is just lazing around, we haven't gotten to see a lot of Wukong just vibing aside from in season 1. I think him having picnics and seeing scenic views and vistas is totally something he would do. Wukong has always liked traveling.

Also, just him going to the Celestial Realm more?? He ofc has his reservations, but the Jade Emperor and the gods aren't the only things up there. Wukong likes to just laze about a lot, let him laze about up there.

In Constellations specifically, since he's refocused on bonds, Wukong spends a lot more time with people in comparison to before. Also with his subjects in comparison to before. SWK was pretty social in JTTW, lots of parties and feasts, having over 70 people that he considered to be close friends. I think he'd return to that a bit, not to the extent as before, but he'd remember how fun it is hanging out with others and having a good time.

Because he also has a lot to learn. After being isolated, the world has changed in large ways. The internet??? Also, one hobby I love for Wukong to have is knitting. He's always been picky about his appearance and put together his own outfits or whatever (tiger skins, etc) so I like him making some of his own accessories or whatever.

Combining that with the internet is also just fun. Wukong just seeing all kinds of patterns and yarn and wanting to make new things for people? Let's go, MK has plenty of sweaters now.

And Macaque! He desperately needs more attention and hobbies. Hello, he loves new information! He'd love to see how the world's changed, how things got from point A to point B. I HC he's into musicals, especially historic musicals. I also think he'd be a bit of a film critic. He'd be particular about what movies he watches, often liking those by certain directors whose style he likes or finds intriguing or interesting premises.

Macaque, loving magic and, while getting caught up in what's changed, gets inspired to make his own spells again.

And Macaque has his own bonds to make and friendships to pursue. I'm here for him being friends with Mei and Tang for sure. And lately, I've been thinking of Nezha and Macaque friendship? I think that'd be interesting. And also Princess Iron Fan and Macaque.

Like there's so much untapped potential, and instead of running away from that or thinking that it doesn't serve shadowpeach, can I emphasize that it absolutely does? In developing Wukong and Macaque outside of each other, they can bring those new perspectives, hobbies, insights back into their relationship.

They've changed, so now their relationship can change. It only gives both the characters, and the way they interact with each other, more depth.

[love-toxin]

(1) Demon Eddie au-

There is a legend in Hawkins- about a serial killer who used dark magic or was possessed by a demon. What he did to his victims was so horrific, that he went down in history. Now, you’ve moved to this small, dumpy town and you’re eager to leave it all behind.

Insert Eddie the Freak, who resides in the upside down and cannot stay in normal reality for too long. He goes in and out- ageless and invincible, practically. All of his friends have died, and here he is- living, or surviving- barely.

N-NOT DEMON EDDIE IM-

hnghhhhh…..imagine…..it's been years since all those strange happenings in that tiny town in Indiana. you're a pretty young thing approaching the turn of the century in crappy old 1996 Hawkins, filled with little to nothing save for a couple farms, downtown, a new mall built in place of the one that burned a decade ago, and a bunch of oldies. not the way you wanted to spend the summer of your 18th year.

the only thing that differentiates Hawkins from any other small town in America is its storied past. news articles filled with crazy accidents line the local library–mysterious deaths, crooked lab shutdowns, missing persons reports, mass deaths, a serial killer, and alien theories. it's all bull as far as you're concerned, even though you're now one of very few young people populating Hawkins, since so many families have moved away to save their poor, innocent children from aliens and boogeymen.

surprisingly, though, you're tempted to believe one of those stories. one that you might be able to confirm yourself, because you've seen it. him. out in the woods.

some guy with long, greasy hair, and a worn out denim jacket over a stained white shirt and jeans. you first thought he was some creep coming to spy on anyone that came to make out at the picnic table behind the high school, but he was too….cautious. shifting his weight from foot to foot, humming along to some song and tapping the rhythm out on his leg with fidgety fingers. since you first saw him, you put your finger on the melody. an old Metallica song. interesting choice.

and because you see him more than once, and you're too curious to let it go, you take a look at some of those old newspapers. find the articles detailing how he murdered a cheerleader in his trailer and some kid out near the highway, his missing person's photo, some pictures you almost gloss over of him posing together with a bunch of kids for the Hawkins' Hellfire club group photo. 1986. that's the most recent year you can find photos from, the year that he died.

but you know it's him. this isn't some copycat or lookalike–he's wearing the Hellfire shirt, the same one from that photo, and the next time you see him he doesn't just watch you from the treeline. he comes up to the picnic table with a smile, asks if he can take a seat with you. you know his name, don't you? but he'll introduce himself anyways. Eddie the Freak. the name rolls off his tongue like he hasn't said it in a while.

and thus starts a new friendship….or something along those lines. there's been plenty of misinformation floating around the details of Hawkins' dark history, and Eddie turns out to actually be really sweet–and he's alive, or kind of, which is crazy in itself–so it doesn't make you hesitate in thinking that those stories aren't true. he just seems like a guy that was down on his luck and suffered some even worse misfortune upon trying to do the right thing.

oh, how naïve you are. you don't even realize what he's doing, how he's luring you in, making you safe and comfortable with him, even nurturing a romance with you, just to make it easier. easier to finally pull you into the upside down with him when it's time, and keeping you there with him forever, where he can have you all to himself for the rest of all eternity. how romantic, isn't it?

[thewidowsghost]

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Jackson!Reader) - Chapter 12

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Here's a really, really long chapter, about 12K words! It wasn't planned either lmao, but I hope yall enjoy!

Love ya!

Leo keeps looking back. He half expects to see those nasty sun dragons toting a flying chariot with a screaming, magical sales woman throwing potions but nothing follows them.

Leo steers the dragon towards the southwest. Eventually, the smoke from the burning department store fades into the distance, but Leo doesn't relax until the suburbs of Chicago give way to snowy fields, and the sun begins to set.

"Good job, Festus," he pats the dragon's metal hide. "You did awesome."

The dragon shutters; gears popping and clicking in his neck.

Leo frowns, not liking the noises coming from the dragon. If the control disk is fading again – No, hopefully it's something minor. Something I can fix.

"I'll give you a tune-up next time we land," Leo promises. "You've earned some motor oil and Tabasco sauce."

Festus whirls his teeth, but even that sounds weak. He flies at a steady pace, his great wings angling to catch the wind, but he is carrying a heavy load. Two cages in his claws plus four people on his back — the more Leo thinks about it, the more worried he gets. Even metal dragons have limits.

"Leo." Piper pats his shoulder. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah . . . not bad for a brainwashed zombie." He hopes he didn't look as embarrassed as he feels. "Thanks for saving us back there, beauty queen. If you hadn't talked me out of that spell —"

"Don't worry about it," Piper replies.

But Leo worries a lot. He feels terrible about how easily Medea had set him against his best friends.

What bothers him more is the news about his mom. Medea had seen the future down in the Underworld. That is how her patron, the woman in the black earthen robes, had come to the machine shop seven years ago to scare him, ruin his life. That's how his mother had died — because of something Leo might do someday. So in a weird way, even if his fire powers aren't to blame, Mom's death is still his fault.

When they'd left Medea in the exploding store, Leo had felt a little too good. He hopes she didn't make it out, and would go right back to the Fields of Punishment, where she belongs. Those feelings he isn't proud of either.

And if souls are coming back from the Underworld . . . is it possible Mom can be brought back?

He tries to put that aside. Medea may have been brought back to life, but she hadn't seemed quite human, with the hissing nails and the glowing head, and whatnot.

No, mom's passed on. Thinking like that is just gonna drive me nuts. Still, the thought keeps poking at Leo liken an echo of Medea's voice.

"We're going to have to put down soon," Leo warns his friends. "Couple more hours, maybe, to make sure Medea's not following us. I don't think Festus can fly much longer than that."

"Yeah," Piper agrees. "Coach Hedge probably wants to get out of his canary cage, too. Question is — where are we going?"

"The Bay Area," Leo guesses. His memories of the department store are fuzzy, but he seems to remember hearing that. "Didn't Medea say something about Oakland?"

Piper doesn't respond for so long, Leo wonders if he'd said something wrong.

"Piper's dad," Jason puts in. "Something's happened to your dad, right? He got lured into some kind of trap."

Piper lets out a shaky breath. "Look, Medea said you would both in the Bay Area. And besides . . . even if we went there, the Bay Area is huge! First we need to find Aeolus and drop off the storm spirits. Boreas said Aeolus was the only one who could tell us exactly where to go."

Leo grunts. "So how do we find Aeolus?"

Jason leans forward. "You mean you don't see it?" He points ahead of them, but Leo doesn't see anything except clouds and the lights of a few towns glowing in the dusk.

"What?" Leo asks.

"That . . . whatever it is," Jason said. "In the air."

Leo glances back. Piper looks just as confused as he is.

"Right," Leo says. "Could you be more specific on the 'whatever-it-is' part?"

"Like a vapor trail," Jason replies. "Except it's glowing. Really faint, but it's definitely there. We've been following it since Chicago, so I figured you saw it."

Leo shakes his head. "Maybe Festus can sense it. You think Aeolus made it?"

"Well, it's a magic trail in the wind," Jason says. "Aeolus is the wind god. I think he knows we've got prisoners for him. He's telling us where to fly."

"Or it's another trap," Piper replies.

Her tone worries (Y/n). She doesn't just sound nervous. She sounds broken with despair, like they'd already sealed their fate, and like it's her fault.

"Pipes, you all right?" he questions.

"Don't call me that."

"Okay, fine. You don't like any of the names I make up for you. But if your dad's in trouble and we can help —"

"You can't," she says, her voice getting shakier. "Look, I'm tired. If you don't mind . . ." She leans back against (Y/n) and closes her eyes.

All right, Leo thinks, pretty clear signal she didn't want to talk.

They fly in silence for a while. Festus seems to know where he is going. He keeps his course, gently curving toward the southwest and hopefully Aeolus's fortress. Another wind god to visit, a whole new flavor of crazy — Oh, boy, Leo can't wait.

He has way too much on his mind to sleep, but now that he is out of danger, his body has different ideas. His energy level is crashing. The monotonous beat of the dragon's wings make his eyes feel heavy. His head starts to nod.

"Catch a few Z's," Jason replies. "It's cool. Hand me the reins."

"Nah, I'm okay —"

"Leo," Jason replies, "you're not a machine. Besides, I'm the only one who can see the vapor trail. I'll make sure we stay on course."

Leo's eyes starts to close on their own. "All right. Maybe just . . ."

He doesn't finish the sentence before slumping forward against the dragon's warm neck.

. . .

Leo snaps awake to Jason, Piper, and (Y/n) screaming.

They spiral through the dark in a free fall, still on the dragon's back, but Festus's hide is cold. His ruby eyes are dim.

"Jason!" (Y/n) screams. "Take Piper and fly out of here!"

"What? What about you and Leo?"

"We need to lighten the load!" Leo yells. "I might be able to reboot Festus, but he's carrying too much weight!"

"What about you guys?" Piper cries. "If you can't reboot him —"

"We'll be fine," Leo replies. "Just follow me to the ground. Go!"

Jason grabs Piper around the waist. They both unbuckle their harnesses, and in a flash they are gone — shooting into the air.

"Now," Leo said. "Just you and me, Festus — and two heavy cages and (Y/n). You can do it, boy!"

Leo talks to the dragon while he works, falling at terminal velocity. He could see the city lights below him, getting closer and closer. He summons fire in his hand so he can see what he is doing, but the wind keeps extinguishing it. (Y/n) uncaps her pen, grabbing the blade with her hand, cutting into the flesh of her hand, but it keeps a steady light so Leo can see. He glances back, nodding gratefully at the light.

He pulls a wire that he thought connected the dragon's nerve center to its head, hoping for a little wake-up jolt.

Festus groans — metal creaking inside his neck. His eyes flicker weakly to life, and he spreads his wings. Their fall turns into a steep glide.

"Good!" Leo says. "Come on, big boy. Come on!"

They are still flying in way too hot, and the ground is too close. Leo needed a place to land — fast.

(Y/n) taps the tip of her pen, and the blade shrinks back down, and she grips the pen in her bleeding hand.

On the riverbanks, Leo spots a white mansion with a huge snowy lawn inside a tall brick perimeter fence – like some rich person's private compound, all of it blazing with light. A perfect landing field. He does his best to steer the dragon towards it and Festus seems to come back to life. We're gonna make this!

Then everything goes wrong. As they approach the lawn, spotlights along the fence fix on them, blinding Leo. He hears bursts like tracer fire, the sound of metal being cut to shreds – and BOOM!

. . .

When (Y/n) comes to her senses, Piper is leaning over her. (Y/n) is lying in snow, covered in mud, grease, and blood.

"Where –" (Y/n) rasps.

"Lie still," Piper's eyes flood with tears. "You guys rolled pretty hard when – when Festus –"

"Where is he?" Leo sits up, his head feeling like it is floating.

"Seriously, Leo," Jason says. "You could be hurt. You shouldn't –"

(Y/n) rolls onto her stomach, pushing herself up, and then her leg sags underneath her weight, and she collapses on her face in the mud.

"Hey, hey," Piper's tone is gentle. "I've got you. Jason, come help."

Two sets of hands pull (Y/n) to her feet, and her leg collapses under her, but Jason and Piper keep her supported.

"Go help Leo," (Y/n) glances at Jason. "Go."

Piper's arm wraps around (Y/n)'s waist, and then (Y/n) sees the wreckage.

Festus must have dropped the big canary cages, as he'd come over the fence, because they'd rolled in different directions and landed on their sides, perfectly undamaged.

The dragon had disintegrated. His limbs are scattered across the lawn. His tail hung on the fence. The main section of his body had plowed a trench twenty feet wide and fifty feet long across the mansion's yard before breaking apart. What remains of his hide is a charred, smoking pile of scraps. Only his neck and head are somewhat intact, resting across a row of frozen rosebushes like a pillow.

"No," Leo sobs. He runs to the dragon's head and stroked its snout. The dragon's eyes flicker weakly. Oil leaks out of his ear. "You can't go," Leo pleaded.

And (Y/n) gets sucked into a memory.

The Hephaestus cabin is out of Greek fire. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters are scrounging for arrows. Most of the demigods had already ingested so much ambrosia and nectar that they didn't dare take anymore.

Sixteen campers, fifteen Hunters, and half a dozen satyrs are left in fighting shape. The rest had taken refuge on Olympus. The Party Ponies try to form ranks, but they stagger and giggle and they all smell of root beer. The Texans are head-butting the Coloradoans; the Missouri branch is arguing with Illinois. The chances are pretty good the whole army would end up fighting each other, rather than the enemy.

Chiron trots up with Rachel on his back.

"Your girlfriend here has some useful insights, (Y/n)," he says.

Rachel blushes. "Just some things I saw in my head."

"A drakon," Chiron says. "A Lydian drakon, to be exact. The oldest and most dangerous kind."

(Y/n) stares at her. "How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel admits. "But this drakon has a particular fate. It will be killed by a child of Ares."

Annabeth crosses her arms. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I just saw it. I can't explain."

"Well, let's hope you're wrong," Percy replies. "Because we're a little short on children of Ares . . ." A horrible thought occurs to Percy, and he curses in Ancient Greek.

"What?" Annabeth asks.

"The spy," Percy tells her. "Kronos said, 'We know they cannot beat this drakon.' The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn't with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can't kill."

Thalia scowls. "If I ever catch your spy, he's going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp —"

"I've already done it," Chiron replies. "Blackjack is on his way. But if Silena wasn't able to convince Clarisse, I doubt Blackjack will be able —"

A roar shakes the ground. It sounds very close.

"Rachel," (Y/n) says, "get inside the building. Please."

"I want to stay."

A shadow blots out the sun. Across the street, the drakon slithers down the side of a skyscraper. It roars, and a thousand windows shattered.

"On second thought," Rachel says in a small voice, "I'll be inside." Then she meets (Y/n)'s gaze. "Please be careful."

. . .

Clarisse's chariots circle the drakon. Lances break against the monster's skin. Skeletal horses breathe fire and whine. Two more chariots overturn, but the warriors simply leap to their feet, draw their swords, and go to work. They hack at chinks in the creature's scales. They dodge poison spray like they'd been training for this all their lives, which of course they had.

No one can say that the Ares campers aren't brave – Clarisse is right up front, stabbing her spear at the drakon's face, trying to put out its other eyes. But as (Y/n) watches, things start to go wrong. The drakon snaps up an Ares camper in a gulp, knocks aside another, and sprays poison on a third, who retreats in a panic, his armor melting.

"We have to help," Annabeth says.

She is right. (Y/n) and Percy had just been standing there frozen in amazement. Mrs. O'Leary tries to get up but yelps again. One of her paws is bleeding.

"Stay back, girl," (Y/n) tells her. "You've done enough already."

Annabeth, (Y/n), and Percy jump onto the monster's back and run toward its head, trying to draw its attention away from Clarisse.

Her cabinmates throw javelins, most of which break, but some lodge in the monster's teeth. It snaps its jaws together until its mouth is a mess of green blood, yellow foamy poison, and splintered weapons.

"You can do it!" (Y/n) encourages Clarisse. "A child of Ares is destined to kill it!"

Through her war helmet, (Y/n) can only see her eyes — but she can tell something was wrong. Her blue eyes shine with fear. Clarisse never looked like that. And she didn't have blue eyes.

"ARES!" she shouts in that strangely shrill voice. She levels her spear and charges the drakon.

"No," (Y/n) mutters. "WAIT!"

But the monster looks down at her – almost in contempt – and spits poison directly in her face.

She screamed and fell.

"Clarisse!" Annabeth jumps off the monster's back and runs to help, while the other Ares campers try to defend their fallen counselor. (Y/n) drives Tsunami between two of the creature's scales and manages to turn its attention on her.

(Y/n) gets thrown but she lands on her feet. "C'MON, you stupid worm! Look at me!"

For the next several minutes, all she sees are teeth. (Y/n) retreats and dodges poison, but she can't hurt the thing.

At the edge of her vision, (Y/n) sees a flying chariot land on Fifth Avenue.

Then someone runs toward them. A girl's voice, shaken with grief, cries, "NO! Curse you, WHY?"

(Y/n) dares to glance over, but what she sees makes no sense. Clarisse is lying on the ground where she'd fallen, her armor smoking with poison. Annabeth and the Ares campers are trying to unfasten her helmet. And kneeling next to them, her face blotchy with tears, is a girl in camp clothes. It's . . . Clarisse.

(Y/n)'s head spins. Why hadn't I noticed before. The girl in Clarise's armor is much thinner, not as tall. But why would someone pretend to be Clarisse?

(Y/n) is so stunned, the drakon almost snaps her in half. She dodges and the beast buries its head in a brick wall.

"WHY?" the real Clarisse demands, holding the other girl in her arms while the campers struggle to remove teh poison-corroded helmet.

Chris Rodriguez runs over from the flying chariot. He and Clarisse must've ridden it from camp, chasing the Ares campers, who'd mistakenly been following the other girl, thinking she was Clarisse. But it still makes no sense.

The drakon tugs its head from the brick wall and screams in rage.

"Look out!" Chris warns.

Instead of turning towards her, the drakon whirls toward the sound of Chris's voice. It bares its fangs at the group of demigods.

The real Clarisse looks up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate.

Percy had seen a look that intense only once before. Her father, Ares, had worn the same expression when Percy'd fought him in single combat.

"YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screams at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!"

She grabs her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charges the drakon.

(Y/n) tries to close the distance to help, but Clarisse is faster. She leaps aside as the monster struck, pulverizing the ground in front of her. Then she jumps onto the creature's head. As it rears up, she drives her electric spear into its good eye with so much force it shatters the shaft, releasing all of the magic weapon's power.

Electricity arcs across the creature's head, causing its whole body to shudder. Clarisse jumps free, rolling safely to the sidewalk as smoke boils from the drakon's mouth. The drakon's flesh dissolves, and it collapses into a hollow, scaly, tunnel of armor.

The rest of the demigods stare at Clarisse in awe. (Y/n) had never seen anyone take down such a huge monster single-handedly. But Clarisse doesn't seem to care. She runs back to the wounded girl who'd stolen her armor.

Finally, Annabeth manages to remove the girl's helmet. They all gather around: the Ares campers, Chris, Clarisse, Annabeth, Percy, and (Y/n). The battle rages along Fifth Avenue, but for that moment nothing exists but the small circle around the wounded girl.

Her features, once beautiful, are badly burned from poison. (Y/n) can tell that no amount of nectar or ambrosia would save her.

Something is about to happen. Rachel's words ring in (Y/n)'s ears. A trick that ends in death. Now I knew what she meant, and I knew who had led the Ares cabin into battle.

(Y/n) looks down at the dying face of Silena Beauregard.

"You're the best thing I ever fixed." Leo wails.

The dragon's head whirs its gears, as if he's purring. Jason, Piper, and (Y/n) stand next to Leo, but Leo keeps his eyes fixed on his dragon.

He remembers what Hephaestus had said: That isn't your fault, Leo. Nothing lasts forever, not even the best machines. His dad had been trying to warn him.

"It's not fair," he says. His dad had been trying to warn him. "It's not fair," he repeats.

The dragon clicks. Long creak. Two short clicks. Creak. Creak. Almost like a pattern . . . triggering an old memory in Leo's mind. Leo realizes Festus is trying to say something. He's using Morse code — just like Leo's mom had taught him years ago. Leo listens more intently, translating the clicks into letters: a simple message repeating over and over.

"Yeah," Leo said. "I understand. I will. I promise."

The dragon's eyes go dark. Festus is gone.

Leo cries. He isn't even embarrassed. His friends stand on either side, patting his shoulders, saying comforting things; but the buzzing in Leo's ears drowns out their words.

Finally Jason says, "I'm so sorry, man. What did you promise Festus?"

Leo sniffs. He opens the dragon's head panel, just to be sure, but the control disk is cracked and burned beyond repair.

"Something my dad told me," Leo replies. "Everything can be reused."

"Your dad talked to you?" Jason asks. "When was this?"

Leo doesn't answer. He works at the dragon's neck hinges until the head is detached. It weighs about a hundred pounds, but Leo manages to hold it in his arms. He looks up at the starry sky and says, "Take him back to the bunker, Dad. Please, until I can reuse him. I've never asked you for anything." The wind picks up, and the dragon's head floats out of Leo's arms like it weighs nothing. It flies into the sky and disappears.

Piper looks at him in amazement. "He answered you?"

"I had a dream," Leo manages. "Tell you later." He knows he owes his friends a better explanation, but Leo can barely speak. He feels like a broken machine himself – like someone had removed one little part of him, and now he'd never be complete. He might move, he might talk, he might keep going and do his job, but he'd always be off balance, never calibrated exactly right.

Still, he can't afford to break down completely. Otherwise, Festus had died for nothing. He has to finish this quest – for his friends, for his mom, for his dragon.

He looks around. The large white mansion glows in the center of the grounds. Tall brick walls with lights and security cameras surround the perimeter, but now Leo can see — or rather sense — just how well those walls are defended.

"Where are we?" he asks. "I mean, what city?"

"Omaha, Nebraska," Piper replies. "I saw a billboard as we flew in. But I don't know what this mansion is. We came in right behind you, but as you guys were landing, Leo, I swear it looked like — I don't know —"

"Lasers," Leo replies. He picks up a piece of dragon wreckage and throws it toward the top of the fence. Immediately a turret pops up from the brick wall and a beam of pure heat incinerated the bronze plating to ashes.

Jason whistles. "Some defense system. How are we even alive?"

"Festus," Leo says miserably. "He took the fire. The lasers sliced him to bits as he came in so they didn't focus on you. I led him into a death trap."

"You couldn't have known," Piper says. "He saved our lives again."

"But what now?" Jason asks. "The main gates are locked, and I'm guessing I can't fly us out of here without getting shot down."

Leo looks up the walkway at the big white mansion. "Since we can't go out, we'll have to go in."

. . .

The other three demigods would've died five times on the way to the front door if not for Leo.

First it's the motion-activated trapdoor on the sidewalk, then the lasers on the steps, then the nerve gas dispenser on the porch railing, the pressure-sensitive poison spikes in the welcome mat, and of course the exploding doorbell.

Leo deactivates all of them – almost like he could smell the traps, and he picks just the right tool out of his belt to disable them.

"You're amazing, man," Jason says.

Leo scowls as he examines the front door lock. ''Yeah, amazing," he said. "Can't fix a dragon right, but I'm amazing."

"Hey, that wasn't your —"

"Front door's already unlocked," Leo interrupts.

Piper stares at the door in disbelief. "It is? All those traps, and the door's unlocked?"

Leo turns the knob. The door swings open easily. He steps inside without hesitation.

Before Jason can follow, Piper catches his arm with her free hand. "He's going to need some time to get over Festus. Don't take it personally."

"Yeah," Jason replies. "Yeah, okay."

But still he feels terrible.

"Piper," he begins, "I know I was in a daze back in Chicago, but that stuff about your dad — if he's in trouble, I want to help. I don't care if it's a trap or not."

Her eyes are always different colors, but now they look shattered, as if she'd seen something she just couldn't cope with. "Jason, you don't know what you're saying. Please — don't make me feel worse. Come on. We should stick together."

She helps (Y/n) inside.

"Together," Jason says to himself. "Yeah, we're doing great with that."

. . .

Jason's first impression of the house: Dark.

From the echo of his footsteps, he can tell the entry hall is enormous, even bigger than Boreas's penthouse; but the only illumination comes from the yard lights outside. A faint glow peaks through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. The windows rise about ten feet tall, spaced between the walls are life-size metal statues. As Jason's eyes adjust, he sees sofas arranged in a U in the middle of the room, with a central coffee table and one large chair at the far end. A massive chandelier glints overhead. Along the back wall stands a row of closed doors.

"Where's the light switch?" His voice echoes alarmingly through the room.

"Don't see one," Leo replies.

"Fire?" Piper suggests.

Leo holds out his hand, but nothing happens. "It's not working."

"Your fire is out? Why?" Piper asks.

"Well, if I knew that —"

"Okay, okay," she says. "What do we do — explore?"

Leo shakes his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."

Jason's skin tingles. He hates being a demigod. Looking around, he doesn't see a comfortable room to hang out in. He imagines vicious storm spirits lurking in the curtains, dragons under the carpet, a chandelier made of lethal ice shards, ready to impale them.

"Leo's right," Jason says. "We're not separating again — not like in Detroit."

"Oh, thank you for reminding me of the Cyclopes." Piper's voice quavers. "I needed that."

"It's a few hours until dawn," Jason guesses. "Too cold to wait outside. Let's bring the cages in and make camp in this room. Wait for daylight; then we can decide what to do."

Nobody offers a better idea, so Piper helps (Y/n) settle on the floor, and they roll the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits.

(Y/n) rummages through her backpack to find a baggie of pastries like lemon barns. She breaks one in half, and nibbles off the corner.

Piper settles down next to (Y/n) against the wall.

"What does it taste like for you?" Piper asks.

"My mom's homemade blue chocolate chip cookies," (Y/n) replies, taking another bite of the pastry square.

"Blue?" Piper asks, taking a bite of a peanut butter Ritz cracker.

(Y/n) smiles slightly. "I'm pretty sure it was some sort of dig at my ex-stepfather." Piper tilts her head in curiosity. "He, was not a very nice dude. He was –" she pauses.

"Abusive?" Piper asks gently.

(Y/n) glances back over at Piper. "How'd –"

"I was trying to break you from Medea's spell," Piper glances down into her lap, not wanting to meet (Y/n)'s gaze. "I raised my hand, and you flinched, like you'd been hit before."

(Y/n) sighs, taking another bite from the ambrosia, feeling the godly food starting to repair her leg. Then she nods. "My mom was only ever with him to protect me," she says.

"How?"

"I'm pretty sure it was the smell," (Y/n) fiddles with Tsunami, who'd appeared back in her pocket. "Perc and I didn't call him Smelly Gabe for nothing. Mom explained it was because he was incredibly mortal, that he could, like, mask our smell." Piper just sits and listens, and (Y/n) doesn't know if anyone had ever listened to her like Piper was listening to her now – just letting her talk without interrupting. "What're you doing?" she asks, bewildered.

"I'm listening," Piper replies. "Go on," she smiles slightly.

That's nice, (Y/n) thinks, grinning at Piper. "Apparently, we demigods smell. Like really bad." Piper laughs. "Especially us Big Three kids, it's worse. My friend Grover says we smell like –" she falters.

"The sea," Piper finishes, and (Y/n) nods. And then she yawns, leaning her head against the wall. "You must be tired," Piper says. "Did you even sleep in the sewer last night?" (Y/n) glances over at Piper, and smiles sheepishly. "Sleep, oh my gods," Piper says with exasperation, though she looks amused. "Come on, now," she pats her lap, and (Y/n) lies down, resting her head in Piper's lap.

The top boulder is twenty feet tall, and really hard to climb, so the flag is clearly visible, like the rules said it had to be, and it didn't matter that the guards weren't allowed to stand within ten yards of it.

Percy sets Nico on guard duty with Beckendorf and the Stoll brothers, figuring he'd be safely out of the way.

"We'll send out a decoy to the left," Thalia tells the team. "Selina, you lead that."

"Got it!"

"Take Laurel and Jason. They're good runners. Make a wide arc around the Hunters, attract as many as you can. I'll take the main raiding party around to the right and catch them by surprise." She glances at (Y/n), who had been leaning on her shield, looking bored. Catching Thalia's look however, she nods.

"I got you," (Y/n) nods.

Thalia looks at Percy. "Anything to add, Percy?"

"Urn, yeah. Keep sharp on defense. We've got four guards, two scouts. That's not much for a big forest. I'll be roving. Yell if you need help."

"And don't leave your post!" Thalia says.

"Unless you see a golden opportunity," Percy adds.

Thalia scowls. "Just don't leave your post."

"Right, unless —" Percy says, and (Y/n) laughs.

"Percy!" Thalia touches his arm and shocks Percy. "Sorry," Thalia says, though she doesn't sound particularly sorry. "Now, is everybody clear?"

Everybody nods. We break into our smaller groups. The horn sounds, and the game begins.

. . .

Percy is two feet from the water when Zoe bolts across to her own side, slamming into him for good measure. The Hunters cheer as both sides converge on the creek. Chiron appears out of the woods, looking grim. He has the Stoll brothers on his back, and it looks as if both of them had taken some nasty whacks to the head. Connor Stoll has two arrows sticking out of his helmet like antennae.

"The Hunters win!" Chiron announces without pleasure. Then he mutters, "For the fifty-sixth time in a row."

"Perseus Jackson!" Thalia yells, storming toward me. She smells like rotten eggs, and she is so mad that blue sparks flicker on her armor. Everybody cringes and backs up because of Aegis. It takes all his  willpower not to cower. "What in the name of the gods were you THINKING?" she bellows.

Percy balls his fists. "I got the flag, Thalia!" He shakes it in her face. "I saw a chance and I took it!"

"WE WERE AT THEIR BASE!" Thalia yells. "But the flag was gone. If you hadn't butted in, we would've won."

"You had too many on you!"

"So it's my fault we lost!"

"I didn't say that."

"Argh!" Thalia shoves Percy, and a shock goes through his body that blows him backward ten feet into the water. Some of the campers gasp. A couple of the Hunters stifle laughs.

"Sorry!" Thalia says, turning pale. "I didn't mean to—"

Anger roars in my ears. A wave erupts from the creek, blasting into Thalia's face and dousing her from head to toe.

Percy stands up. "Yeah. I didn't mean to, either."

Thalia is breathing heavily.

"Enough!" Chiron orders.

But Thalia holds out her spear. "You want some, Seaweed Brain?"

"Bring it on, Pinecone Face!"

Percy raises Riptide, but before he can even defend himself, Thalia yells, and a blast of lightning comes down from the sky, hits her spear like a lightning rod, and slams into his chest.

Percy suits down hard, and (Y/n) runs over to him, jumping over the rocks and into the riverbed. There is a burning smell; and (Y/n) has a feeling it's Percy's clothes.

"Thalia!" Chiron says. "That is enough!"

(Y/n) helps Percy to his feet and the Son of Poseidon wills the entire creek to rise. It swirls up, hundreds of gallons of water in a massive icy funnel cloud.

"Percy!" Chiron pleads.

. . .

"Ahhhggggggh!"

(Y/n) leaps to his feet, thankfully her leg had completely healed overnight. She isn't sure what is more jarring — the full sunlight that now bathes the room, or the screaming satyr.

"Coach is awake," Leo says, which was kind of unnecessary. Gleeson Hedge is capering around on his furry hindquarters, swinging his club and yelling, "Die!" as he smashes the tea set, whacks the sofas, and charges at the throne.

"Coach!" Jason yells.

Hedge turns, breathing hard. His eyes are so wild, Jason is afraid he might attack. The satyr is still wearing his orange polo shirt and his coach's whistle, but his horns are clearly visible above his curly hair, and his beefy hindquarters are definitely all goat. Could you call a goat beefy? Jason puts the thought aside.

"You're the new kid," Hedge says, lowering his club. "Jason." He looks at Leo, then Piper, who'd apparently also just woken up. Her hair looks like it had become a nest for a friendly hamster.

"Valdez, McLean, Jackson" the coach says. "What's going on? We were at the Grand Canyon. The anemoi thuellai were attacking and —" He zeroes in on the storm spirit cage, and his eyes go back to DEFCON 1. "Die!"

"Whoa, Coach!" Leo steps in his path, which (Y/n) thinks is pretty brave, even though Hedge was six inches shorter. "It's okay. They're locked up. We just sprang you from the other cage."

"Cage? Cage? What's going on? Just because I'm a satyr doesn't mean I can't have you doing plank push-ups, Valdez!"

Jason clears his throat. "Coach — Gleeson — urn, whatever you want us to call you. You saved us at the Grand Canyon. You were totally brave."

"Of course I was!"

"The extraction team came and took us to Camp Half-Blood. We thought we'd lost you. Then we got word the storm spirits had taken you back to their — um, operator, Medea."

"That witch! Wait — that's impossible. She's mortal. She's dead."

"Yeah, well," Leo says, "somehow she got not dead anymore."

Hedge nods, his eyes narrowing. "So! You were sent on a dangerous quest to rescue me. Excellent!"

"Urn." Piper gets to her feet, holding out her hands so Coach Hedge wouldn't attack her. "Actually, Glee — can I still call you Coach Hedge? Gleeson seems wrong. We're on a quest for something else. We kind of found you by accident."

"Oh." The coach's spirits seem to deflate, but only for a second. Then his eyes light up again. "But there are no accidents! Not on quests. This was meant to happen! So, this is the witch's lair, eh? Why is everything gold?"

"Gold?" Jason looks around. From the way Leo, (Y/n), and Piper catch their breath, he guesses they hadn't noticed the throne either.

The room is full of gold — the statues, the tea set Hedge had smashed, the chair that is definitely a throne. Even the curtains — which seems to have opened by themselves at daybreak — appear to be woven of gold fiber.

"Nice," Leo says. "No wonder they got so much security."

"This isn't —" Piper stammers. "This isn't Medea's place, Coach. It's some rich person's mansion in Omaha. We got away from Medea and crash-landed here."

"It's destiny, cupcakes!" Hedge insists. "I'm meant to protect you. What's the quest?"

Before Jason can decide if he wants to explain or just shove Coach Hedge back into his cage, a door opens at the far end of the room.

A pudgy man in a white bathrobe steps out with a golden toothbrush in his mouth. He has a white beard and one of those long, old-fashioned sleeping caps pressed down over his white hair. He freezes when he sees them, and the toothbrush falls out of his mouth.

He glances into the room behind him and calls, "Son? Lit, come out here, please. There are strange people in the throne room."

Coach Hedge does the obvious thing. He raises his club and shouts, "Die!"

It takes all four of them to hold back the satyr. "Whoa, Coach!" Jason sats. "Bring it down a few notches." A younger man charges into the room. Jason guesses he must be Lit, the old guy's son. He is dressed in pajama pants with a sleeveless T-shirt that says Cornhuskers, and he holds a sword that looks like it can husk a lot of things besides corn. His ripped arms are covered in scars – not unlike (Y/n)'s – and his face, framed by curly dark hair, would've been handsome if it wasn't also sliced up.

Lit immediately zeroes in on Jason like he is the biggest threat, and stalks toward him, swinging his sword overhead.

"Hold on!" Piper steps forward, trying for her best calming voice. "This is just a misunderstanding! Everything's fine." Lit stops in his tracks, but he still looks wary. It doesn't help that Hedge is screaming, "I'll get them! Don't worry!"

"Coach," Jason pleads, "they may be friendly. Besides, we're trespassing in their house."

"Thank you!" says the old man in the bathrobe. "Now, who are you, and why are you here?"

"Let's all put our weapons down," Piper says. "Coach, you first."

Hedge clenches his jaw. "Just one thwack?"

"No," Piper says.

"What about a compromise? I'll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I'll apologize."

"No!" Piper insists.

"Meh." Coach Hedge lowers his club.

Piper gives Lit a friendly sorry-about-that smile. Even with her hair messed up and wearing two-day-old clothes, she looks extremely cute, and (Y/n) feels a little jealous she is giving Lit that smile.

Lit huffs and sheaths his sword. "You speak well, girl — fortunately for your friends, or I would've run them through."

"Appreciate it," Leo said. "I try not to get run through before lunchtime."

The old man in the bathrobe sighs, kicking the teapot that Coach Hedge had smashed. "Well, since you're here. Please, sit down."

Lit frowns. "Your Majesty—"

"No, no, it's fine, Lit," the old man says. "New land, new customs. They may sit in my presence. After all, they've seen me in my nightclothes. No sense observing formalities." He does his best to smile, though it looks a little forced. "Welcome to my humble home. I am King Midas."

"Midas? Impossible," says Coach Hedge. "He died."

They are sitting on the sofas now, while the king reclines on his throne. Tricky to do that in a bathrobe, and Jason keeps worrying the old guy would forget and uncross his legs. Hopefully he's wearing golden boxers under there.

Lit stands behind the throne, both hands on his sword, glancing at Piper and flexing his muscular arms just to be annoying. (Y/n) wonders if she looked that ripped holding a sword. Sadly, she doubts it.

Piper sits forward. "What our satyr friend means, Your Majesty, is that you're the second mortal we've met who should be — sorry — dead. King Midas lived thousands of years ago."

"Interesting." The king gazes out the windows at the brilliant blue skies and the winter sunlight. In the distance, downtown Omaha looks like a cluster of children's blocks — way too clean and small for a regular city.

"You know," the king says, "I think I was a bit dead for a while. It's strange. Seems like a dream, doesn't it, Lit?"

"A very long dream, Your Majesty."

"And yet, now we're here. I'm enjoying myself very much. I like being alive better."

"But how?" Piper asks. "You didn't happen to have a . . . patron?"

Midas hesitates, but there is a sly twinkle in his eyes. "Does it matter, my dear?"

"We could kill them again," Hedge suggests.

"Coach, not helping," Jason says. "Why don't you go outside and stand guard?"

Leo coughs. "Is that safe? They've got some serious security."

"Oh, yes," the king replies. "Sorry about that. But it's lovely stuff, isn't it? Amazing what gold can still buy. Such excellent toys you have in this country!" He fishes a remote control out of his bathrobe pocket and presses a few buttons — a pass code, Jason guesses.

"There," Midas says. "Safe to go out now."

Coach Hedge grunted. "Fine. But if you need me . . ." He winks at Jason meaningfully. Then he points at himself, points two fingers at their hosts, and slices a finger across his throat. Very subtle sign language. "Yeah, thanks," Jason says.

After the satyr leaves, Piper tries another diplomatic smile. "So . . . you don't know how you got here?"

"Oh, well, yes. Sort of," the king replies. He frowns at Lit. "Why did we pick Omaha, again? I know it wasn't the weather."

"The oracle," Lit said.

"Yes! I was told there was an oracle in Omaha." The king shrugs. "Apparently I was mistaken. But this is a rather nice house, isn't it? Lit — it's short for Lityerses, by the way — horrible name, but his mother insisted — Lit has plenty of wide-open space to practice his swordplay. He has quite a reputation for that. They called him the Reaper of Men back in the old days."

"Oh." Piper tries to sound enthusiastic. "How nice."

Lit's smile is more of a cruel sneer. (Y/n) is now one hundred percent sure he didn't like this guy, and Jason is starting to regret sending Hedge outside.

"So," Jason says. "All this gold —"

The king's eyes light up. "Are you here for gold, my boy? Please, take a brochure!"

Jason looks at the brochures on the coffee table. The title says GOLD: Invest for Eternity. "Urn, you sell gold?"

"No, no," the king says. "I make it. In uncertain times like these, gold is the wisest investment, don't you think? Governments fall. The dead rise. Giants attack Olympus. But gold retains its value!"

Leo frowns. "I've seen that commercial."

"Oh, don't be fooled by cheap imitators!" the king says. "I assure you, I can beat any price fora serious investor. I can make a wide assortment of gold items at a moment's notice."

"But..." Piper shakes her head in confusion. "Your Majesty, you gave up the golden touch, didn't you?"

The king looks astonished. "Gave it up?"

"Yeah," Piper says. "You got it from some god —''

"Dionysus," the king agrees. "I'd rescued one of his satyrs, and in return, the god granted me one wish. I chose the golden touch."

"But you accidentally turned your own daughter to gold," Piper remembers. "And you realized how greedy you'd been. So you repented."

"Repented!" King Midas looks at Lit incredulously. "You see, son? You're away for a few thousand years, and the story gets twisted all around. My dear girl, did those stories ever say I'd lost my magic touch?"

"Well, I guess not. They just said you learned how to reverse it with running water, and you brought your daughter back to life."

"That's all true. Sometimes I still have to reverse my touch. There's no running water in the house because I don't want accidents" — he gestures to his statues — "but we chose to live next to a river just in case. Occasionally, I'll forget and pat Lit on the back —"

Lit retreats a few steps. "I hate that."

"I told you I was sorry, son. At any rate, gold is wonderful. Why would I give it up?"

"Well..." Piper looks truly lost now. "Isn't that the point of the story? That you learned your lesson?"

Midas laughs. "My dear, may I see your backpack for a moment? Toss it here."

Piper hesitates, but she isn't eager to offend the king. She dumps everything out of the pack and tosses it to Midas. As soon as he caught it, the pack turns to gold, like frost spreading across the fabric. It still looks flexible and soft, but definitely gold. The king tosses it back.

"As you see, I can still turn anything to gold," Midas says. "That pack is magic now, as well. Go ahead — put your little storm spirit enemies in there."

"Seriously?" Leo is suddenly interested. He takes the bag from Piper and holds it up to the cage. As soon as he unzips the backpack, the winds stir and howl in protest. The cage bars shudder . The door of the prison flies open and the winds get vacuumed straight into the pack. Leo zips it shut and grins. "Gotta admit. That's cool."

"You see?" Midas says. "My golden touch a curse ? Please. I didn't learn any lesson, and life isn't a story, girl. Honestly, my daughter Zoe was much more pleasant as a gold statue."

"She talked a lot," Lit offers.

"Exactly! And so I turned her back to gold." Midas points. There in the corner is a golden statue of a girl with a shocked expression, as if she were thinking, Dad!

"That's horrible!" Piper says.

"Nonsense. She doesn't mind. Besides, if I'd learned my lesson, would I have gotten these?"

Midas pulls off his oversize sleeping cap, and Jason doesn't know whether to laugh or get sick. Midas has long fuzzy gray ears sticking up from his white hair — like Bugs Bunny's, but they aren't rabbit ears. They are donkey ears.

"Oh, wow," Leo says. "I didn't need to see that."

"Terrible, isn't it?" Midas sighs. "A few years after the golden touch incident, I judged a music contest between Apollo and Pan, and I declared Pan the winner. Apollo, sore loser, said I must have the ears of an ass, and voila. This was my reward for being truthful. I tried to keep them a secret. Only my barber knew, but he couldn't help blabbing." Midas pointed out another golden statue — a bald man in a toga, holding a pair of shears. "That's him. He won't be telling anyone's secrets again." The king smiles, and suddenly, he doesn't strike Jason as a harmless old man in a bathrobe. His eyes have a merry glow to the – the look of a madman who knows he's mad, accepted his madness, and enjoyed it. "Yes, gold has many uses. I think that must be why I was brought back, eh Lit? To bankroll our patron."

Lit nods. "That and my good sword arm."

Jason glances at his friends. Suddenly the air in the room seems much colder.

"So you do have a patron," Jason says. "You work for the giants."

King Midas waves his hand dismissively. "Well, I don't care for giants myself, of course. But even supernatural armies need to get paid. I do owe my patron a great debt. I tried to explain that to the last group that came through, but they were very unfriendly. Wouldn't cooperate at all."

Jason slips his hand into his pocket and grabs his gold coin. "The last group?"

"Hunters," Lit snarls. "Blasted girls from Artemis."

Jason feels a spark of electricity — a literal spark — travel down his spine. He catches a whiff of electrical fire like he'd just melted some of the springs in the sofa.

His sister had been here.

"When?" he demands. "What happened?"

Lit shrugs. "Few days ago? I didn't get to kill them, unfortunately. They were looking for some evil wolves, or something. Said they were following a trail, heading west. Missing demigod — I don't recall."

Percy Jackson – (Y/n)'s missing brother, Jason thinks. Annabeth had mentioned the Hunters were looking for him. And in Jason's dream of the burned-out house in the redwoods, he'd heard enemy wolves baying. Hera had called them her keepers. It has to be connected somehow.

Midas scratches his donkey ears. "Very unpleasant young ladies, those Hunters," he recalls. "They absolutely refused to be turned into gold. Much of the security system outside I installed to keep that sort of thing from happening again, you know. I don't have time for those who aren't serious investors."

Jason stands warily and glances at his friends. They got the message.

"Well," Piper says, managing a smile. "It's been a great visit. Welcome back to life. Thanks for the gold bag."

"Oh, but you can't leave!" Midas replies. "I know you're not serious investors, but that's all right! I have to rebuild my collection."

Lit is smiling cruelly. The king rises, and Leo, (Y/n), and Piper move away from him.

"Don't worry," the king assures them. "You don't have to be turned to gold. I give all my guests a choice — join my collection, or die at the hands of Lityerses. Really, it's good either way."

Piper tries to use her charmspeak. "Your Majesty, you can't —"

Quicker than any old man should've been able to move, Midas lashes out and grabs her wrist.

"No!" Jason yells.

Gold frost spreads over Piper, and, in a heartbeat, she is a glittering statue. Leo tries to summon fire, but he'd forgotten his power wasn't working. Midas touches his hand, and Leo transforms into solid metal. (Y/n) stands, stunned, and can't move, and Midas touches her shoulder, and gold spreads across her body.

Jason is so horrified he can't move. His friends – just gone. And he'd been unable to stop it.

Midas smiles apologetically. "Gold trumps fire, I'm afraid." He waves around him at all the gold curtains and furniture. "In this room, my power dampens all others: fire . . . even charmspeak. Which leaves me only one more trophy to collect."

"Hedge!" Jason yells. "Need help in here!"

For once, the satyr doesn't charge in. Jason wonders if the lasers had gotten him, or if he is sitting at the bottom of a trap pit.

Midas chuckles. "No goat to the rescue? Sad. But don't worry, my boy. It's really not painful. Lit can tell you."

Jason fixes on an idea. "I choose combat. You said I could choose to fight Lit instead."

Midas looks mildly disappointed, but he shrugs. "I said you could die fighting Lit. But of course, if you wish."

The king backs away, and Lit raises his sword.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Lit grins. "I am the Reaper of Men!"

"Come on, Cornhusker." Jason summons his own weapon. This time it comes up as a javelin, and Jason is glad for the extra length.

"Oh, gold weapon!" Midas says. "Very nice."

Lit charges.

. . .

Piper wakes up cold and shivering.

She has the worst dream about an old guy with donkey ears chasing her around and shouting, You're it!

"Oh, god." Her teeth chatter. "He turned me to gold!"

"You're okay now." (Y/n) leans over and tucks a warm blanket around her, but she still feels as cold as a Boread.

She blinks, trying to figure out where they are. Next to her, a campfire blazed, turning the air sharp with smoke.

Firelight flickers against rock walls. They are in a shallow cave, but it doesn't offer much protection. Outside, the wind howls. Snow blows sideways. It could've been day or night. The storm makes it too dark to tell.

"L-L-Leo?" Piper manages, her teeth chattering.

"Present and un-gold-ified." Leo is also wrapped in blankets. He doesn't look great, but better than Piper feels. "I got the precious metal treatment too," he says. "But I came out of it faster. Dunno why. We had to dunk you in the river to get you back completely. Tried to dry you off, but . . . it's really, really cold."

"You've got hypothermia," (Y/n) tells Piper. "We risked as much nectar as we could. Coach Hedge did a little nature magic —"

"Sports medicine." The coach's ugly face looms over her. "Kind of a hobby of mine. Your breath might smell like wild mushrooms and Gatorade for a few days, but it'll pass. You probably won't die. Probably."

"Thanks," Piper says weakly. "How did you beat Midas?"

Jason tells her the story, putting most of it down to luck.

The coach snorts. "Kid's being modest. You should've seen him. Hi-yah! Slice! Boom with the lightning!"

"Coach, you didn't even see it," Jason replies, rolling his eyes. "You were outside eating the lawn."

But the satyr is just warming up. "Then I came in with my club, and we dominated that room. Afterward, I told him, 'Kid, I'm proud of you! If you could just work on your upper body strength —'"

"Coach," said Jason.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up, please."

"Sure." The coach sits down at the fire and starts chewing his cudgel.

(Y/n) put her hand on Piper's forehead and checks her temperature. "Leo, can you stoke the fire?"

"On it." Leo summons a baseball-sized clump of flames and lobs it into the campfire.

"Do I look that bad?" Piper shivers.

"Nah," (Y/n) replies.

"You're a terrible liar," Piper says. "Where are we?"

"Pikes Peak," Jason replies. "Colorado."

"But that's, what – five hundred miles from Omaha?" Piper's eyes widen slightly.

"Something like that," Jason agrees. "I harnessed the storm spirits to bring us this far. They didn't like that – went a little faster than I wanted, almost crashed us into the mountainside before I could get them back in the bag. I'm not going to be trying that again."

"Why are we here though?" Piper asks.

Leo sniffs. "That's what I asked him."

Jason glances into the storm as if watching for something. "That glittery wind trail we saw yesterday? It was still in the sky, though it had faded a lot. I followed it until I couldn't see it anymore. Then — honestly I'm not sure. I just felt like this was the right place to stop."

"'Course it is." Coach Hedge spits out some cudgel splinters. "Aeolus's floating palace should be anchored above us, right at the peak. This is one of his favorite spots to dock."

"Maybe that was it." Jason knits his eyebrows. "I don't know. Something else, too . . ."

"The Hunters were heading west," Piper remembers. "Do you think they're around here?"

Jason rubs his forearm as if the tattoos are bothering him. "I don't see how anyone could survive on the mountain right now. The storm's pretty bad. It's already the evening before the solstice, but we didn't have much choice except to wait out the storm here. We had to give you some time to rest before we tried moving." He doesn't need to convince her. The wind howling outside the cave scares her, and she can't stop shivering.

"Jace," (Y/n) says, and Jason looks up to meet her sea-green gaze. "I've known Thalia and the Hunters for years. I promise you, that they'll be fine." Then she sees Piper shivering beside her. "We have to get you warm." She holds out her arms a little awkwardly. "Uh, you mind if I . . ."

"I suppose." Piper tries to sound nonchalant, though her stomach erupts with butterflies. She puts her arms around her and holds her. They scoot closer to the fire; Coach Hedge chews on his club and spits splinters into the fire.

Leo breaks out some cooking supplies and starts frying burger patties on an iron skillet. "So, guys, long as you're cuddled up for story time . . . something I've been meaning to tell you. On the way to Omaha, I had this dream. Kinda hard to understand with the static and the Wheel of Fortune breaking in —"

"Wheel of Fortune?" Piper assumes Leo is kidding, but when he looks up from his burgers, his expression was deadly serious.

"The thing is," Leo says, "my dad Hephaestus talked to me."

Leo tells them about his dream. In the firelight, with the wind howling, the story is even creepier. Piper can imagine the static-filled voice of the god warning about giants who were the sons of Tartarus, and about Leo losing some friends along the way. And she had noticed the quick looks exchanged between Leo, Jason, and (Y/n). Wonder what that's about.

Piper tries to concentrate on something good: (Y/n)'s arms around her, the warmth slowly spreading into her body, but she is terrified. "I don't understand. If demigods and gods have to work together to kill the giants, why would the gods stay silent? If they need us —"

"Ha," says Coach Hedge. "The gods hate needing humans. They like to be needed by humans, but not the other way around. Things will have to get a whole lot worse before Zeus admits he made a mistake closing Olympus."

"Coach," Piper says, "that was almost an intelligent comment." (Y/n) laughs.

Hedge huffs. "What? I'm intelligent! I'm not surprised you cupcakes haven't heard about the Giant War. The gods don't like to talk about it. Bad PR to admit you needed mortals to help beat an enemy. That's just embarrassing."

"There's more, though," Jason adds. "When I dreamed about Hera in her cage, she said Zeus was acting unusually paranoid. And Hera — she said she went to those ruins because a voice had been speaking in her head. What if someone's influencing the gods, like Medea influenced us?"

Piper shudders. She'd had a similar thought — that some force they couldn't see was manipulating things behind the scenes, helping the giants. Maybe the same force is keeping Enceladus informed about our movements, and had even knocked their dragon out of the sky over Detroit. Perhaps Leo's sleeping Dirt Woman, or another servant of hers . . .

Leo sets hamburger buns on the skillet to toast. "Yeah, Hephaestus said something similar, like Zeus was acting weirder than usual. But what bothered me was the stuff my dad didn't say. Like a couple of times he was talking about the demigods, and how he had so many kids and all. I don't know. He acted like getting the greatest demigods together was going to be almost impossible — like Hera was trying, but it was a really stupid thing to do, and there was some secret Hephaestus wasn't supposed to tell me."

(Y/n) shifts. Piper can feel the tension in her arms. "Didn't you mention something about Chiron acting the same way when you were meeting him in the Big House?" (Y/n) asks. "

Jason nods "He mentioned a sacred oath not to discuss — something. Coach, you know anything about that?"

"Nah. I'm just a satyr. They don't tell us the juicy stuff. Especially an old —" He stops himself.

"An old guy like you?" Piper asks. "But you're not that old, are you?"

"Hundred and six," the coach mutters.

Leo coughs. "Say what?"

"Don't catch your panties on fire, Valdez. That's just fifty-three in human years. Still, yeah, I made some enemies on the Council of Cloven Elders. I've been a protector a longtime. But they started saying I was getting unpredictable. Too violent. Can you imagine?"

"Why don't you talk to Grover?" (Y/n) asks the satyr.

The Coach lets out a grunt, and then mutters something along the lines of "– don't like askin' for help." Then the Coach scowls. "Yeah, then finally we get a good war going with the Titans, and do they put me on the front lines? No! They send me as far away as possible — the Canadian frontier, can you believe it? Then after the war, they put me out to pasture. The Wilderness School. Bah! Like I'm too old to be helpful just because I like playing offense. All those flower-pickers on the Council — talking about nature."

"I thought satyrs liked nature," Piper ventures.

"Shoot, I love nature," Hedge replies. "Nature means big things killing and eating little things! And when you're a — you know — vertically challenged satyr like me, you get in good shape, you carry a big stick, and you don't take nothing from no one! That's nature." Hedge snorts indignantly. "Flower-pickers. Anyway, I hope you got something vegetarian cooking, Valdez. I don't do flesh."

"Yeah, Coach. Don't eat your cudgel. I got some tofu patties here. Piper's a vegetarian too. I'll throw them on in a second."

The smell of frying burgers filled the air. Piper usually hates the smell of cooking meat, but her stomach rumbles like it wanted to mutiny.

I'm losing it, she thinks. Think broccoli. Carrots. Lentils.

Her stomach isn't the only thing rebelling. Lying by the fire, with (Y/n) holding her, Piper's conscience feels like a hot bullet slowly working its way toward her heart. All the guilt she'd been holding in for the last week, since the giant Enceladus had first sent her a dream, is about to kill her.

Her friends wanted to help her. Jason even said he'd walk into a trap to save her dad. And Piper had shut them out.

For all she knows, she'd already doomed her father when she attacked Medea.

She chokes back a sob. Maybe she'd done the right thing in Chicago by saving her friends, but she'd only delayed her problem. She can never betray her friends, but the tiniest part of her is desperate enough to think, What if I did?

She tries to imagine what her dad would say. Hey, Dad, if you were ever chained up by a cannibal giant and I had to betray a couple of friends to save you, what should I do?

Funny, that had never come up when they did Any Three Questions. Her dad would never take the question seriously, of course. He'd probably tell her one of Grandpa Tom's old stories — something with glowing hedgehogs and talking birds—and then laugh about it as if the advice was silly.

Piper wishes she remembers her grandpa better. Sometimes she dreams about that little two-room house in Oklahoma. She wonders what it would've been like to grow up there.

Her dad would think that was nuts. He'd had spent his whole life running away from that place, distancing himself from the rez, playing any role except Native American. He'd always told Piper how lucky she was to grow up rich and well cared-for, in a nice house in California.

She'd learned to be vaguely uncomfortable about her ancestry — like Dad's old pictures from the eighties, when he had feathered hair and crazy clothes. Can you believe I ever looked like that? he'd say. Being Cherokee was the same way for him — something funny and mildly embarrassing.

But what else were they? Dad didn't seem to know. Maybe that's why he was always so unhappy, changing roles.

Maybe that's why Piper started stealing things, looking for something her dad couldn't give her.

Leo puts the tofu patties on the skillet. The wind keeps raging.

Gradually, Piper starts to feel warmer. She stops shivering and settles against (Y/n)'s chest. Leo hands out the food, and (Y/n) takes a tofu patty, more to make Piper more comfortable; Piper doesn't want to move, talk, or do anything to disrupt the moment. But she has to.

We need to talk." She sits up so she can face (Y/n). "I don't want to hide anything from you guys anymore."

They look at her with their mouths full of burger. Too late to change my mind now.

"Three nights before the Grand Canyon trip," she begins, "I had a dream vision — a giant, telling me my father had been taken hostage. He told me I had to cooperate, or my dad would be killed."

The flames crackles.

Finally Jason says, "Enceladus? You mentioned that name before."

Coach Hedge whistles. "Big giant. Breathes fire. Not somebody I'd want barbecuing my daddy goat."

(Y/n) gives him a shut up look. "Piper, go on. What happened?"

"I — I tried to reach my dad, but all I got was his personal assistant, and she told me not to worry."

"Jane?" Leo remembers. "Didn't Medea say something about controlling her?"

Piper nods. "To get my dad back, I had to sabotage this quest. I didn't realize it would be the four of us. Then after we started the quest, Enceladus sent me another warning: He told me he wanted you three dead. He wants me to lead you to a mountain. I don't know exactly which one, but it's in the Bay Area — I could see the Golden Gate Bridge from the summit. I have to be there by noon on the solstice, tomorrow. An exchange."

She can't meet her friends' eyes. She waits for them to yell at her, or turn their backs, or kick her out into the snowstorm.

Instead, (Y/n) scoots next to her and puts her arm around her again, "Gods, Piper. I'm so sorry."

Leo nods, "No kidding. You've been carrying this around for a week?"

"Piper, we could help you," Jason adds.

She glares at each of them. "Why don't you yell at me or something? I was ordered to kill you."

"Aww, come on," Jason says. "You've saved all three of us on this quest."

"You don't get it!" Piper argues. "I've probably just killed my dad, telling you this."

"I doubt it." Coach Hedge belches. He is eating his tofu burger folded inside the paper plate, chewing it all like a taco. "Giant hasn't gotten what he wants yet, so he still needs your dad for leverage. He'll wait until the deadline passes, see if you show up. He wants you to divert the quest to this mountain, right?"

Piper nods uncertainly.

"So that means Hera is being kept somewhere else," Hedge reasons. "And she has to be saved by the same day. So you have to choose — rescue your dad, or rescue Hera. If you go after Hera, then Enceladus takes care of your dad. Besides, Enceladus would never let you go even if you cooperated. You're obviously one of the seven in the Great Prophecy."

One of the seven. She'd talked about this before with Jason, (Y/n), and Leo, and she supposes it must be true, but she still has trouble believing it. She doesn't feel that important. She is just a stupid child of Aphrodite. How can I be worth deceiving and killing?

"So we have no choice," she replies miserably. "We have to save Hera, or the giant king gets unleashed. That's our quest. The world depends on it. And Enceladus seems to have ways of watching me. He isn't stupid. He'll know if we change course and go the wrong way. He'll kill my dad."

"He's not going to kill your dad," Leo says. "We'll save him."

"We don't have time!" Piper cries. "Besides, it's a trap."

We're your friends, beauty queen," Leo said. "We're not going to let your dad die. We just gotta figure out a plan."

Coach Hedge grumbles. "Would help if we knew where this mountain was. Maybe Aeolus can tell you that. The Bay Area has a bad reputation for demigods. Old home of the Titans, Mount Othrys, sits over Mount Tam, where Atlas holds up the sky. I hope that's not the mountain you saw."

Piper tries to remember the vista in her dreams. "I don't think so. This was inland."

Jason frowns at the fire, like he is trying to remember something.

"Bad reputation . . . that doesn't seem right. The Bay Area . . ."

"You think you've been there?" Piper asks the son of Zeus.

"I. . . He looks like he is almost on the edge of a breakthrough. Then the anguish comes back into his eyes. "I don't know. Hedge, what happened to Mount Othrys?"

Hedge takes another bite of paper and burger. "Well, Kronos built a new palace there last summer. Big nasty place, was going to be the headquarters for his new kingdom and all. Weren't any battles there, though. Kronos marched on Manhattan, tried to take Olympus. If I remember right, he left some other Titans in charge of his palace, but after Kronos got defeated in Manhattan, the whole palace just crumbled on its own."

"No," Jason says suddenly.

Everyone looks at him.

"What do you mean, 'No'?" Leo questions.

"That's not what happened. I—" He tenses, looking toward the cave entrance. "Did you hear that?"

For a second, nothing. Then Piper hears it: howls piercing the night.

Word Count: 11828 words