#i hope he gets to punch someone in the face killing that minotaur was not enough i feel

[lanternlightss]

YOU'RE READING IT YOU'RE READING IT

YESSSSSSSSS

SHSJSKDK IM READING IT !!!!!!!!!!

only 59 pages in and i would fight all the gods for percy to have one (1) good day this kid deserves a BREAK 😭😭

[lazybakerart]

For things you could write: any thoughts on the first time greek god steve and minotaur billy met? or had sex? or how they worked together to deal with El?

The first time God!Steve meets Minotaur!Billy

(a prequel to, to hold a bull by the horns)

-

Billy hurls his sharpening stone at the newest gawker and hits him square in his forehead.

“Ow!” The lanky godling folds in on himself before toppling over onto the moss behind a pillar, clutching at his face. "Jeez, why'd you do that?"

Good aim, but not hard enough to make a god bleed, even one as young and weak as Billy.

He stands and glares, head bowed to point his horns, his tail flicking behind him—then quickly rights himself, chin up and hands curled into fists in front of him. His axe is inside. He hasn't perfect his swing yet. He can't hold it up yet.

Gawkers usually take the hint. A smack. A glare. A well aimed throw. They've gotten their fill and run back home.

Billy knows the score.

Better to take a peek while his dad isn't here and Billy's stuck with a couple cheap tricks to be left alone.

The kid right’s himself and it strikes with a sucker punch to his gut who exactly this is, who this kid's father is, why Billy can be in trouble if someone like Steve has decided to travel through his labyrinth to take a look at the newest monster.

Floppy brown hair and scrunched up earthly eyes peering out from under all the fluff—the golden child is not exactly what Billy had pictured.

He’s less intimidating and more pretty.

It’s hard to imagine him one day razing the mountaintop with terrible bolts of lightning.

Steve rubs at his forehead, ignores the warning Billy chucked at him and comes closer despite the darkening sky above them and the fog thickening around him, the tall grass growing taller while the ground shudders. The labyrinth's heart does not have visitors.

Billy has never had a real visitor.

Steve turns around as he walks barefoot, his red tunic too large for him slips over his shoulder. He takes in the cracking pillars and stone home and flowers planted a long time ago by Billy’s mother.

"Take another step and I'll spear you through." Billy warns him.

Steve stops, holding up his hands. "Do you live here?” 

“What do you think?” Billy says and thinks, Look at me, of course I do.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Um.” Steve says. He holds out Billy’s sharpening stone to him. “Thanks for that.” He point to the bump forming on his head, smiling and Billy doesn't get it. No one looks at him like that. An uncomfortable sensation coils inside him.

He shakes his head from it. He can't be distracted.

“You deserved it.” He says.

Steve's cheeks puff out and he laughs, shakes the ground with it.

"I did. Sorry."

Billy’s ears twitch, lie flat on his head—he has no idea what he’s supposed to do. Only knows what his dad had told him. To stay focused. Get stronger. If you're weak, they will kill you.

He snatches the stone back and steps away.

Steve follows after him.

“What were you doing?” Steve mimes grinding a rock on invisible horns on his hornless-head. It must be nice. 

Billy holds the stone to his chest, glancing to the tall grass tickling at his knees. His lips pull back in a snarl. 

He knows how this makes him look. He hopes it scares Steve off, another trick, but one look up at the taller godling says no, it won’t. 

Steve's that stupid kind of brave. Too curious to know better. The golden child who can do no wrong. A perfect god in the making and he's talking to Billy.

Looking at him like he isn't something wrong.

“Stars.” Billy bites out, feeling his face warm.

Steve cocks his head, his smile as joyful as when he'd cracked the air with his laughter.

“Stars?”

“I’m making them. Okay? So? Shove it. Leave. Or else.” 

Billy has to squint from how brightly Steve beams at him, bouncing on his heels, rushing over to Billy to plop down on the grass at his feet.

"Or else sounds fun." Steve tells him stupidly. “Can I watch?"

Billy gawks at him.

Unsure, Billy weighs his stone in his hands, checking over his shoulder at his home. His dad won’t be back for a few more days until his shift at the gate ends. 

“Why?” Billy says to his hands.

“I don’t know, I’ve never met anyone who can make stars.” Steve says. “I can make lightning, but so can my dad and, like, that’s kinda lame. It’s not as awesome as stars.”

Lightning is strength. Billy snorts through his snout, bitterness twisting in his chest.

Steve claps his hands, rubs his palms together and slowly pulls them apart. 

Cautiously, Billy sits down in front of him to watch.

In between his palms a thin beam of shaking lightning wavers then blips out in a crackling flash that prickles at Billy's skin. He pats at the curls on his head and feels the static frizz.

Steve’s fluffy, straight hair stands in all directions.

The sight of him cracks a laugh out of Billy, surprising the both of them—Steve laughs along with him and the fog retreats and the night sky brightens, sparkling overheard.

“Well, sort of lightning.” Steve runs his fingers through his frizzy hair, pats at his head to flatten it, shrugging it off easier than Billy manages when he fails to lift his dad's axe. “I’m not very good at it yet. My dad says I just have to keep practicing. Is that how you learned? Did your dad teach you?”

“He used to show me, before my mom—“ Billy shuts up. Snaps his maw closed, the bubbly sensation inside him wavering.

He lifts his rock to his head and runs it along one horn before swiftly scuffing it, sparks fly off. He closes his eyes and concentrates. Remembers his dad when Billy had been even younger, sitting beside him, showing Billy how to quiet his mind and imagine the constellations. 

His mom would say his horns were a gift. 

They built the night sky, just like your dad’s.

Billy thinks of Steve’s smile. His ringing laughter. A new sight and a new sound in all the quiet he's too used to. Dumb and big and goofy and weird—not what he’d thought a son of Zeus would be.

Kind. To him.

He never did believe his mom. He’s had to grow to know not to trust his dad and the bull that comes out of his mouth.

Billy opens his eyes to see one speck of the shower of sparks drift upwards, the reflection of it in Steve’s wide, awed stare as he tracks it on its flight as it takes its place in the heavens.

“Wow.” Steve says. Breathless. Honest. He means it.

“Whatever.” Billy turns his head away, reeling, hiding away, his curls fall in front of his eyes. He doesn’t like this. 

He feels a tap at his horn.

Steve’s fingertip is bleeding from it. He sucks it into his mouth and says around it, white teeth gleaming in a grin as bright as his eyes and any star Billy has made, “You’re amazing!”

Billy doesn't believe him. But he wants to.

[thebonggirll]

chapter eighteen

< previous: chapter seventeen

They were back on the streets of Manhattan.

Catching a taxi to Percy's mom's apartment, they rang the doorbell, and there she was - his mother, smelling of peppermint and licorice, the weariness and worry evaporating from her face as soon as she saw him.

"Percy! Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my baby."

She crushed the air right out of him. They stood in the hallway as she cried and ran her hands through his hair.

Y/N let them have their moment and gave some space.

Percy's eyes were a little misty, too. He was shaking, and was so relieved to see her.

"Oh, is that your friend?" she asked looking at Y/N.

She offered her brightest smile and said, "Hello, yeah we met at the camp. It's so nice to meet you!"

"Oh! You've made a lot of..friends?" she looked at him questioningly, asking if she was more than that.

He blushed and said, "Uh yeah she's just a friend. There's someone else I want you to meet too."

Y/N's smile faltered at the comment but she tried her best to not let it show. Pretty soon, they're going to be seen together right? She needs to get used to this.

His mother told them she'd just appeared at the apartment that morning, scaring Gabe half out of his wits. She didn't remember anything since the Minotaur, and couldn't believe it when Gabe told her Percy was a wanted criminal, traveling across the country, blowing up national monuments. She'd been going out of her mind with worry all day because she hadn't heard the news. Gabe had forced her to go into work, saying she had a month's salary to make up and she'd better get started.

Percy swallowed back his anger and told her his own story. He tried to make it sound less scary than it had been, but that wasn't easy. He was just getting to the fight with Ares when Gabe's voice interrupted from the living room. "Hey, Sally! That meat loaf done yet or what?"

She closed her eyes. "He isn't going to be happy to see you, Percy. The store got half a million phone calls today from Los Angeles ... something about free appliances."

"Oh, yeah. About that..."

She managed a weak smile. "Just don't make him angrier, all right? Come on."

"Um, I'll just stand outside. Take your time. I don't think.." she looked at Percy and he came close to her as she said the next words, "..if i get angry i might scream and probably hurt your stepfather. He's already pissing me off. I don't want him to use it as another weapon against both of you."

Percy said, "Trust me I'll be more than happy if you did that."

"Exactly," she chuckled, "Take your time. I'm right outside. And try not to kill him okay?"

"I'll try."

When Percy came out after some time, he had a smirk on his face. He filled in on about what went on. It looked like his mother got the bag with Medusa's head.

The last thing he saw as the door swung closed was his mother staring at Gabe, as if she was contemplating how he would look as a garden statue.

They were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated them as if they'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, they wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where they got to burn the burial shrouds their cabins had made for them in their absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful-gray silk with embroidered owls-Percy told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched him and told him to shut up. He stared at her face, while she talked to her cabinmates oblivious to the way he was looking at her. The same way he was too oblivious to notice Y/N. But, atleast in his case there was a positive answer.

Y/N who's heart felt heavy at the scene, clutched her shroud tight and avoided looking at them. She burned her shroud which was beautifully made with golden silk with embroidered music notes and instruments. She hoped her feelings for that boy would burn away just like her shroud.

Being the son of Poseidon, Percy didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and surrounded Y/N, praising her guts to question her father (she didn't really but they didn't need to know that) passing out s'mores, Percy was surrounded by his old Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past."

The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told they'd never forgive Percy for disgracing their dad.

That was okay with him though.

Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't enough to dampen their spirits. "Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get himself killed and now he'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday...."

When the Apollo kids were singing in the amphitheater, Harris approached Y/N with a huge smile.

"Oh I guess you should take it back," Y/N said as she took the necklace off from her neck and held it out.

Harris chuckled and said, "Consider it as a gift from all of us. It's because of you that so many of us are determined to work it out your way. We all want to question our parents but I guess there's some reason they didn't claim us all. We just have to figure it out ourselves."

He took it from her hand and walked behind her.

"What are you-" Y/N asked but stopped when she felt the necklace as Harris tied it around her neck. "Oh, um thanks."

"I'm..glad we talked before you left," he scratched the back of his head and asked, "We are friends now right?"

Y/N chuckled, turning around to face him and said, "Of course we are!"

"So?" he said sitting down, "how are you...feeling?"

"What?" Y/N asked sitting next to him.

"About them?" Harris saying looking across at the couple - the almost a new couple of the camp.

"I...don't feel particularly good about it. But as long as they're happy.." she sighed and looked down. Percy and Annabeth were holding hands and sitting very close to each other.

"You can vent if you want."

"There's nothing to vent. It was obvious. The weird atmosphere around them?"

"Annabeth's smart. How did she not catch on?"

"I hid it pretty good during the quest. Besides," she sighed smiling, "papa said I've a long life ahead."

"Aww, you call your father papa?!" Harris laughed and squeezed her cheeks.

"Argh, shut up."

Harris smiled and said, "Well, he's right though." He stared at her for some time and cleared his throat. "When do I get to experience your solo performance?"

Y/N laughed, "All in right time my friend."

next: chapter nineteen >

book one: the lightning thief

percy jackson x reader series

MASTERLIST

Tags: @the-natureofme @jumpingtrainsandflyingskies​ @idk-bye-no

[votederpycausemufins]

Chapter 19: Injuries

this is cross posted on Ao3 (my username is causemufins)

We finally find out what Lila was planning and it doesn't just cause emotional wounds to form.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Chloé watched at Marinette stumbled into the classroom. It was fortunately before the bell, but it was getting close. “Dupain-Cheng! Go back out there! We need to talk…”

    Marinette looked up in shock, bags under her eyes. If Chloe didn’t still have the earrings, she would think there was some late night akuma that kept the designer and Chat up. She opened her mouth to say something before Chloé grabbed the other girl’s arm and dragged her out of the classroom.

    “Chloé, what are you doing?” Marinette asked before Chloé put the earrings in Marinette’s hand.

    “It’s been a good amount of time. You can come back from your vacation or whatever. In the few fights I’ve had, Chat and I managed to win but it was always extremely close. It’s safer if you’re in charge.”

    Marinette looked down at the earrings before hugging Chloé. “You still did amazing! Thank you. Both for taking charge and… to be honest, also for giving me a break I needed.”

    “Of course. Maybe if you need a break in the future, hopefully a while from now, I can be Scarlet Lady again? Of course I don’t need to with Pollen which is why the warmer months are utterly ridiculous, and unfortunately my father can’t ban plants.”

    Marinette looked at Chloé, obviously confused. The blonde however, was just glaring at Lila, who was coming their way. “Hi, did I hear you have pollen allergies? One of my cousins has actually been working on a way to help cure them.”

    Chloé rolled her eyes. “Oh quit your BS Lie-la. I don’t know what demon you made a deal with to make everyone keep believing you, but it won’t work on a few of us.”

    The smile Lila gave next made Chloé want to snap her in two. “You mean people like Alya? I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I have ways to get around a number of problems such as her knowing I’m a liar.”

    Just before Chloé could step forward to strangle Lila, the bell rang and she begrudgingly had to go into the classroom and take her seat. However, as she entered the room, a few of the other students were moving away from Samantha, who was trying to keep from crying and starting to fail at that. While Chloé wanted to figure out what Lila had done, because it just had to be Lila’s fault, Bustier started her lesson.

    As the class went on, Chloé kept sneaking glances towards Sam. It seemed that she had managed to calm down somewhat with everyone mostly focused on class. Fortunately everyone that had been harassing Sam was sitting on the other side of the room. The only problem person near the newbie was Lila, who was keeping her mouth shut for whatever reason.

    What surprised Chloé most was Alya coming in late, looking like she had been crying, and the first thing she did upon entering, was glaring straight at Sam. Now that grabbed Chloé’s attention, especially when it seemed to make Samantha look worse. Fortunately, Marinette seemed to notice too, so if they had an akuma on their hands, she would be prepared.

    Because of class, things were theoretically calm. A number of people were tense from what happened earlier, especially the new girl, but no akuma came until they reached lunch. At lunch, things bubbled up again. Chloé quickly grabbed Sabrina and Marinette and dragged them over to where Sam had seated herself. Even if people didn’t like any of them. There still wouldn’t be as many people approaching a whole group as there would if Samantha were all alone.

    Still, not everyone left them alone. Alya stomped over, looking like she might kill or just seriously maim one of the group of girls. Chloé turned to face the reporter, making her hesitate slightly, but Alya didn’t fully stop. “You shouldn’t be hanging out with her.”

    Chloé wasn’t phased by Alya’s tone. “Oh really? What lie did Lila tell now?”

    Alya fumed for a few moments before responding. “Lila didn’t say anything. The other girls have been keeping me informed. Sam’s trying to steal Nino from me! I’m his girlfriend! You can’t just try to make him yours!”

    “I-I’m not trying to do anything like that. He’s just been-” Sam started but got cut off.

    “You’ve been practically hanging off of him outside of school and I saw him give you something, likely a gift.”

    “Have you been stalking her Césaire?” Chloé glared at Alya. “If you have, it was likely from a distance, so you can’t know everything.”

    “I wasn’t stalking them! I was looking for Nino the other day and saw them together. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now I know the whole story.” Alya explained, trying to get focus off of her.

    It didn’t work as Marinette spoke up. “Alya, someone who was in Bustier’s class with Nino and I last year has their birthday coming up. Nino can’t make it that day, but since Sam also does a bit of djing, she was asked to help with the party instead. Nino’s been helping her out since there’s not as much time to prepare. I know he gave her a mix on a cd a few days ago so that might have been what you’ve seen.”

    “Then what about what everyone’s sent?” Alya asked, showing off some texts and images she had been given.

    “Um, Chloé? Marinette?” Sabrina said meekly before Chloé cut her off.

    “It’s probably Lila using the other girls as proxy so you’ll believe it. I bet she’s a pro at photoshop so she can make images to trick people.”

    “Marinette. Sam is-”

    “Plus, Lila sent me a message last night.” Marinette held her own phone up to Alya, showing the texts from last night. “She wanted this to happen. Probably to-”

    This time Sabrina was able to cut the others off. “Sam already ran off and could be akumatized any moment!”

    The three other girls looked to Sabrina before noticing the missing blonde. “Marinette, you know Sam better than the rest of us.” Chloé said, taking charge. “I’ll go after her. Alya could make it worse since it’s about her and I know you’re still not the best in situations like this because of me Sabrina.”

    The other three agreed and people went their separate ways. Sabrina didn’t want to get involved. Alya started getting ready to record for the Ladyblog and Spot-Light. Marinette ran off to supposedly get people or things to help calm Samantha, but Chloé knew it was really to transform. At the same time, Chloé followed after the other blonde.

    It didn’t take long to find her as with Lunch, not many people were in the classrooms. Chloé started to open the door but it was shoved from the other side to keep it closed. “Don’t come in here!”

    “Sam, are you okay?”

    “Yeah. Okay no. But I’ve got a friend on video call and they’re trying to help. Just make sure not to let anyone in. I might be akumatized but I’m trying really hard not to be akumatized. It’s just, it’s so frustrating! How can people still believe Lila.”

    Chloé almost answered, but Sam’s friend managed to beat her to the punch. “Samantha, facts can easily be warped. And this girl has warped them into a labyrinth. A labyrinth she can change as she pleases. When they finally found an exit, she changed the path and brought them to the minotaur instead. It is those with golden thread like yourself who are able to escape her clutches.”

    “I know Min. I just… there’s too much going on. Even someone who knew the truth couldn’t escape. I couldn’t do anything.” Chloé could hear the pain in Sam’s voice. It wasn’t the same as Marinette’s had been that day in the bathroom, but it was similar. The voice of someone ready to give up.

    “Samantha, you’ll have to do it now. You have 4.28 seconds.” Now that part caught Chloé off guard. Do what now? And what was that timing? Chloé remembered Sam talking about her old friends and one of them who was around the same level of intelligence as Max, but their name definitely wasn’t Min or something like that. Was Sam actually lying to them too? Then there was some mumbling from Sam before her friend spoke again. “I know you don’t. I guess I’m-”

    They were cut off and Chloé could hear the faint bubbling that belonged to Hawkmoth’s power. Sam was akumatized. The blonde tried to run, but it felt like her feet were stuck to the floor. It didn’t take long for the doors to burst open, not by Sam’s hands, but by an explosion of music. It threw Chloé back against the fence of the balcony floor, grabbing onto it for dear life to keep from falling to the floor below. Just before her grip could give out, the music stopped and there stood Sam.

    She was extremely pink with her hair a bright bubblegum shade of the color. A lighter shade made a bodysuit that covered from her neck down other than her arms, which wore dark pink fingerless gloves. Around her waist was a translucent green skirt, and a similar fabric made faux sleeves at the top of the body suit. Light blue accented the bodysuit, and wings of a similar color along with some light pink were behind her, disconnected slightly and just floating there.

    “S-Sam?” Chloé panted out, really hoping Marinette would get here right now. The akuma looked angrier at the name so the blonde quickly corrected herself so she wouldn’t be sonic blasted a second time. “S-Sorry. Who are you now?”

    “I am Angel Rock! Wanting to work and improve my music ended up hurting me, so now I’m going to use it to hurt others!” One of the blue accents that made a small triangle on Angel Rock’s chest suddenly started growing as she grabbed one of the ears of her headphones. Chloé realized that probably meant they were about to attack so she quickly moved out of the way just before another music blast destroyed the fence barrier.

    A few people below who had been surprised by the new akuma were hit by the fence and were pinned under it. For a moment, Chloé watched in horror as the akuma started to move towards the other students. She wasn’t even thinking that much before she yelled at them. “What a loser! You think you could be hurt by music? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

    The blonde didn’t notice if anyone glared. She didn’t care if anyone who heard that hated her yelling at the akuma. All she cared about was Angel Rock was now focused on her, so she started running.

    As Chloé ran, she kept looking back behind her at Angel Rock. Her first thought was the akuma would be in the headphones, but there was one thing that stood out more. On Angel’s wrist was the gold bracelet Sam always wore. It had to be in there or at least the large golden gem on it.

    The blonde had to stop thinking about that as she turned and found herself at a dead end. There was still a classroom to go into, but there would still be no exit from there. If she had more time, maybe she would get the chance to become Abelle, but Angel Rock was too close.

    The shape on the akuma’s chest grew and suddenly rock music exploded into Chloé as she decided to reach for the door. The door was ripped off its hinges and both it and Chloé went flying into the windows on the opposite side of the room. The size of the door kept it from going out the window as well as Chloé as she mostly ended up pressed against it, but there were still broken shards of glass that managed to make a few cuts on the girl.

    Just before another attack could come, Chloé heard the whizz of Ladybug’s yo-yo and a moment later it had wrapped around Angel Rock and pulled her back. No longer held up by the pressure from the soundwaves, the door clattered to the ground along with Chloé. She felt a cut on her head. It was definitely bleeding, but it wasn’t much blood for a head wound, so she was probably okay.

    “My Queen, we may want to assist Ladybug!” Pollen popped out of Chloé’s purse which slightly surprised her in the fact that it was still there after all the akuma had done. “And even if we are not needed, transforming should at least help the injuries a little.”

    “You’re right Pollen. I’m helping out whether Ladybug wants me to or not! Pollen, Buzz on!”

[cadaceus]

c2e55

So... I finished Campaign 2, Episode 55 of Critical Role, Duplicity, and uhhhhh y’all. Guys. What the hell was that because I was stressed out of my mind for literally 100% of this entire 4 hour long episode. Lots of spoilers below. Also lots of caps lock and yelling, so uhhh. Be warned? (But I mean. This episode was so much so I think I deserve the right to a few many many caps lock liveblogs!) 

- Caleb saying that the rest of the cat (beyond it’s paw) is in his heart, and Jester replying with “so you’ve got a big heart?”.... folks that is soft :(

- why is matt whispering... why is liam rolling... guys i’m scared

- “Light them up, pretty” GUYS I’M SCARED !!!!!

- Nugget!!! Someone save Nugget!!! 

- Liam’s reaction to being charmed: Pure ecstasy Travis’s reaction to being charmed: Pure dread

- For some reason, Caleb turning against his party really shows just how powerful he is. Like it’s easy to see him as just a weakling wizard, but damn he has some powerful magic up his sleeves.

- The HDYWTDT against the succubus with Nott shooting right between Beau’s fingers as the creature is being held by the face and slammed into the stone repeatedly by the latter... dare I call this art?

- Jester closing the rift thingy!!! Hell yeah!!!

- Listen we all know that Nott and Caleb is one of my all time Brotps, like we get it, but hear me out: when Caleb was charmed Nott refused to do anything to physically harm him, she did cast Hideous Laughter but it had no effect, but when any other ally is charmed (in this case Yasha, specifically attacking Caleb), Nott doesn’t hesitate to physically harm her with two arrow bolts... I’m not saying protective goblin mom but like.... guys

- Caleb going down... thank gods for Beacon of Hope though, avoiding the Nat 1 on his death save :((((

- CALEB DOWN AGAIN AND LOSING TWO DEATH SAVING THROWS HOLY--

- CALEB DOWN AGAIN FOR THE THIRD TIME IN LIKE TEN MINUTES 

- Oh, so now Yasha succeeds a wisdom saving throw

- MATT COUNTING DOWN THE AMOUNT OF TIME TAL HAS TO TAKE HIS ACTION YOU’RE MAKING THIS WAY MORE STRESSFUL HELP

- CAD DOWN WITH TWO AUTO-FAILED DEATH SAVING THROWS SAVE HIM SAVE HIM SAVE HIM

- CALEB DOWN FOR THE FOURTH FREAKING TIME I’M HAVING HEART PALPATATIONS OVER HERE Y’ALL

- Beau: “So I’ve got Yasha on my ass?” DM: “You do.” Beau: “Just not in the way I’ve been dreaming.” Ayyyy

- WE HAVE YASHA BACK THANK GODS

- Beau saying to the male incubus: “You’re not my type” Unparalleled goddess disaster lesbian energy, I love her so much

- So 3/7 of the party are down, and 2/7 have (at least) one failed death save... cool cool cool cool cool

- BEAU RIPPING OUT THE HEART OF THE FIENDISH MINOTAUR THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT BABEY

- uh oh

- uh oh

- The moment of realization on Sam’s face when he says “It’s an explosive arrow” out loud,,,,,,, please don’t kill Cad 

- UH OH

- Awww the Wildmother being there, and the Traveler saying to Jester “I’m proud of you”.... tragic that Caduceus literally died but the scene with Jester reviving him was sweet

- “I saw your Wildmother :)” JESTER I LOVE YOU also the Team Cleric friendship is underrated

- Oooooh so now Beau can do ranged punches with lightning damage? Nice!

- So,,, it’s 3am on December 24, 2019, Happy Christmas Eve to me I guess, thank you Critical Role cast for a freaking stressful time

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Thirty-seven: Ajax

I am No Longer A Baby Panda

             Later, Pax would say he admired his mother’s stylish entrance.

           At the time, he was just horrified. And maybe a little annoyed. He’d been proud of himself for getting back Frank’s stick and not having to sleep with his sister (something, he realized, really ought to cue him in that he had hit an all-time-low) and now the Goddess of Night had to steal the limelight—haha, steal the light—and tackle Apollo out of the sky.

           Everything happened at once.

           As the sun fell, ghostly silhouettes groaned out of the blackness. The lingering ghosts spilled from the forests, out of the shadows they’d been watching, and cackled with gleeful war cries.

           Rotting corpses staggered towards Camp Half-Blood, an army at least four times larger than the one the Romans had been holding back earlier. Melinoe, her half-mummified, half-fireplace fabulous carcass, led the charge.

           The piercing notes of a pipe echoed through the fields and a huntress, a Greek, and a Roman[1] standing guard at the border collapsed.

           A suction of warm air eased away from the camp, and Pax knew the Mist shield—if it had been recovering—was completely down again.

           The ground rumbled. Pax hoped, but doubted, that it was Nico or Axel to the rescue with a secret, giant mole army.

           Instead, a massive black serpent exploded from—if Pax had to guess—that hole in the ground that Jack had voice-activated outside Hera’s cabin. You know, the major weakness of their defenses in the center of the camp that really ought to have a Welcome, Python, sign, We Forgot You RSVPed.

           By now, the screams were omnipresent.

           When Python collapsed onto the Apollo cabin, Pax liked to think there were as many screams afterwards as before Python decided to use the once-golden structure as a back scratcher.

           Romans spilled out of the barracks. Greeks scrambled out of their cabins, er, the cabins that were left.

           “Turn on the field lights!” Frank shouted from somewhere by the barracks.

           The Canadian’s orders came to light and brought the ghastly attackers to high definition. The thump of the field lights echoed around the strawberry field. Pax had to wonder if substitute sunlight could weaken ghosts, and, if so, whether the Romans should seriously consider adding horticultural LED grow-lamps to their infantry.

           Michael Kahale and Butch were with half-a-dozen demigods towards their edge of the strawberry field, apparently having been planning defenses for this evening. Well, surprise!

           In a breath’s pause, Butch looked towards Python and Kahale blinked at the advancing ghoul army. The debate on whether to help with Python or guard the border lasted all of Michael Kahale ordering the troops to stand strong on the strawberry field. “To arms! Defend our barrier!”

           What a mighty battle cry Michael missed out on; Pax would have said, Defend our berries!

           Pax felt like he was watching an old family movie as his mother tossed her Molotov cocktail up and down. The flame flickered, making the malicious zeal in her eyes glitter. She wore black tactical pants, a torn up red and black shirt with a circled and slashed A, a black bandana to conceal half her face, and—

           When she launched her Molotov cocktail, everything became too real.

           Pax wanted to say, Nice throw, since he’d forgotten his mother was a goddess and lobbing a bottle of alcohol was as easy as tossing rice at a wedding, though that probably was what she tossed at weddings. The bottle went clean over half the strawberry field, far beyond where Percy was cursing Eris at his throne of Saturnalia.

           The glass shattered.

           Michael Kahale went up in flames.

           There were more screams.

           He dropped to the ground, rolling, tearing at his armor.

           Two other soldiers dropped beside him. One went to rip Michael’s armor off, the other frantically shoved dirt onto him.

           Watching the fire and screaming centurion, Pax clutched Frank’s stick to his chest. He felt like the stupid thing could burst into flames by sheer peer pressure.

           A laugh with the same giggling mania as the Joker’s filled the battlefield along with the flick of a match.

           Eris jumped up and down in excitement as she tossed another bottle from hand to hand. “Terror Muffin! Come paint with me! I’ll bet I can make my masterpiece more vibrant than yours!”

           Pax, stupidly, went to shout a warning, like Michael Kahale and the others might be confused or capable of defending themselves from the whole “flaming bombs” thing.

           As he opened his mouth, something much louder made an inhuman wail about ten feet behind him.

           There was a crunch of metal and bone.

           At the same time, the Silver-Tongued helm attached to his waist shrieked.

           One of our brethren is in danger!

           Really, Pax wanted to ask the helm why it didn’t open up more often. He was offended by the lack of weekly coffee chats—Axel’s helm talked to Axel all the time--but now wasn’t the time.

           The shriek left him confused, with a lovely punched-by-a-minotaur-in-the-stomach sense of dread.

           One horrifying thing at a time.

           When he looked up to see the Molotov cocktail’s destruction, a blinding flash of light arched over the demigods.

           The bottle hit something, exploded along the arch, and burned out, leaving the split second image of a brilliant, mini rainbow.

           As the beams of colors faded, Pax could see Butch, the giant child of Iris, scowling hatefully in their direction. His arms were raised, one with a mister bottle, the other with a flashlight.

           Rainbows were some powerful shit.

           Pax wanted to slowly back up, put his hands in his pockets, and walk away whistling.

           But he had to stop his mother from withdrawing a grenade from her utility belt.

           He needed to chastise her: utility belts were definitely something that shouldn’t be used by evil. Only comic book heroes.

           “Mom! Stop!” Pax cried. The shock faded enough for Pax to sprint towards her.

           Her grenade didn’t even have a pin in it. From what he could see, it was held together by a hair band.

           As she slipped the hair band back onto her wrist and cranked her arm for the throw, Pax slapped her hand.

           The grenade tumbled out of her grip. While in mid-air, he kicked it as hard as he could towards Farm Road.

           In the last few moments, he tackled his mother away—

           An explosion popped his ears. Dirt sprayed his back.

           Before the dust had settled, his mother was already squirming to shove him off. Pax wished he could hug the homicidal out of her and have them all go on a nice, non-violent family picnic after this, whatever was left of his family. Merry wouldn’t hurt Hiro, but he’d watched Jason kill someone Pax loved before. He hoped Lapis and Axel were okay.

           “My Little Terror Muffin, what’s the matter?” she cooed, digging her talon-like nails into his recently-fractured shoulder. “The Greeks and Romans massacred all your friends and hunted you into hiding. This is the perfect opportunity for you to have a little fun. Don’t you want to honor your friends and let Momma have a nice Bring Your Son to Work Day?”

           Pax whined in pain. He fumbled to withdraw a dart from his belt with his hand with functional tendons. He feared he didn’t have the dexterity with the other. Pax didn’t know if his darts would knock out a goddess, or if he had any Morpheus dust left to do the trick.

           His belt wasn’t there.

           Axel had shredded it and Pax left the remains in the Hermes cabin. All he had was Frank’s stick and the Silver-Tongued Snake helm on a rope around his waist, because he feared the Hermes little ones would play with it.

           Pax wanted to cheerily brush his mother’s comment off. Instead, his mouth worked on its own. “Stop pretending all the messed up stuff you and Dad do is for me!” he snarled.

           Pax meeped when his mother lifted him up like he was a small child. When she stood, they were several feet higher off the ground than they should have been. She was feeding off the chaos around them, growing. He trembled to think she’d be more powerful with each second of this battle.

           But, Pax realized, he was her son. It ran in the family.

           Although he felt small and baby-panda-like, Pax could discern the delirious sensation coursing through his limbs, like it had during the pandemonium when the Heroes of Olympus collided with the Traitors from Mount Othrys.

           The feeling normally made him nauseous. Normally, he wished desperately he could get a high off a party, like Merry, or off two people in love, like Calex, or a song, like Kally.

           This time, Pax didn’t try to stop the tugging in his stomach. An uncomfortable acceptance settled over him, putting him at ease with the surrounding screams and mayhem: Greeks and Romans were going to die during this battle, he and his brother were never going to be the same after what Ares and Aphrodite did to them, his family was in tatters and needed major therapy, everyone in this camp would die if he, Kally, Alabaster, and a handful of fighters didn’t level up, and if he kept pretending his family was a pack of misunderstood puppies.

           Axel or Jack or someone else always came to the rescue. If Pax could let go, maybe if he stopped acting like a baby panda, he could protect other baby pandas still in Camp Half-Blood.

           “Terror Muffin, I only want you to experience life and glee as fully as I do,” Eris cooed. She was about to toss him, he could feel her winding up. But Pax was the Silver-Tongued Snake, the former spymaster from Kronos’ army, and known for weaseling his way out of everything. “What is that silly saying they have? Be the change you want to see in the world? I’m setting a good example for someone I love.”

           She nuzzled the top of his head with her chin. Her body tensed for the throw.

           In a motion Hunnie, Baller, and Nietz would have been proud of, he latched onto his mother, digging his functional fingers into the skin above her kidney and chomping down hard with his teeth.

           Eris lost her grip on Pax.

           He thrashed and squirmed his way out, springing off her to land on his feet.

           Pax stood a foot taller than the highest field light, his breath was ragged, and a hysterical laugh spilled from his lips. “I am not a baby panda!” he cried triumphantly.

           Eris touched her back, her fingers returning with golden ichor smearing them. “Terror Muffin?” she asked, her serial killer grin one of amusement.

           “Sorry. Internal monologue. It’s a main character thing,” he said. “Now, for the reprise. You and Dad always say you do this stuff because you love me.” Pax doned the Silver-Tongued Snake helm, feeling the warm enhancement of strength slither through him. He cracked his neck and withdrew Frank’s stick like it was one of his daggers. “If this is love, I don’t want to be loved!”

           Pax really hoped this battle would be over soon, else he wasted a kick-ass line.

           Eris’ wide, excited gaze turned adoring. “Your tricks won’t work on me, Terror Muffin. There’s no one you can turn into that would make me stop. You can’t puppet me the way you did the little Valdez. We have the same powers. You’re my son.”

           “I’m not just your son. And I’m not letting you, or anyone else from our family hurt these baby pandas,” Pax said. He wished he would have pickpocketed her lighter off her, but he hadn’t felt one when he weaseled away. Instead, he focused on Frank’s stick, hoping it was as easily influenced as he thought. He also hoped this thing had a “slow burn” option or an alarm that would flash with, Destruction of Canadian: Imminent.

           The tip burst into flames.

           Pax bit his tongue, whining at the blood dribbling out—how did Axel do this every time without complaining?--and said the incantation he’d only ever successfully recited during the battle for Mount Othrys, something he’d heard Frasco do before he died. “Xma’su’tal Xib, Liik’il Ch’iich’!”[2]

           Pax spit his blood into the flames. The red glow flared a brilliant turquoise. Pain flared as he felt his limbs elongate and his bones alter. What he was excited to say, and had rehearsed a few times in his head, was, “I’ll show you why you don’t mess with a Mayan warrior-prince!” but what came out was more of a, “Aye! Aye! OW! How does Axel do this all the time?!”

Sorry for some of the bravado, I’ll admit, I’ve been watching WAY too much anime recently.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

Footnotes:

[1] As Mel pointed out, excellent start to a joke, “A huntress, a Greek, and a Roman were standing guard…”

[2] “Abandon the man, ascend the eagle/bird.”

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 31: A Battle of Gigantic Proportions

               A hand skated down Peter’s back, resting right above the waist of his pants. His breath hitched in his throat. Everything was dark. Their touch felt familiar, and yet there was something discomforting about all of this. Something wasn’t quite right. The hand skirted around to his lower stomach, and he could feel the hot breath of someone far shorter than him against his chest. His first instinct was Eilonwy. He reached out to cup her cheek, but instead of soft skin he found rugged fabric and knotted dreadlocks. A disgusting chuckle reached his ears. This was not his love. This was the embodiment of his current hate. This was someone who didn’t give a damn about others. Someone selfish and coarse and cruel. He opened his mouth to speak, and then…

               Peter snapped awake, gasping. The ground beneath him shook, and everything around him was chaos. His men were scrambling to put on their pants and gather their weapons. Maybe it was the alcohol, or his exhaustion, but Peter’s mind felt as if it was working at half speed. Everything was hazy and dim. Before he could ask what was going on, Rhindon landed in his lap with a thud.

               “Rise and shine, kid” Bone called from the doorway. “We’ve got company.”

               And then Peter understood all too well the magnitude of their situation. It was what they had been sent there for in the first place. He leapt to his feet and peered out the window. Giants.

               The only time he had ever seen giants before in his life was during the Battle of Beruna, as part of the White Witch’s army, but even then they were nothing compared to this. He had not fought any of them personally, and from a distance they seemed drastically overexaggerated. But now, here they were mere meters away from him, the creeps of Ettinsmoor, and he would be lying if he said he was unafraid.

               He finished getting dressed as he ran downstairs behind the others. Time seemed to be moving far faster than he could keep up with, but before diving into the fray, there was one thing of particular interest that caught his eye. He glanced over his shoulder to find Bone standing by the back door of the tavern, grasping Rosalie’s hands tightly and whispering something to her urgently. Rosalie nodded, tears in her eyes, and squeezed Bone’s hands as he leaned in. His face was mainly hidden by Rosalie’s then, which blocked Peter from getting a good look when he pulled his mask down to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. It was something Peter had certainly not expected but filled him with such a strange feeling. He never would’ve imagined Captain Bone was capable of being soft and affectionate, and yet here he was displaying just that. Perhaps there truly was more to their relationship than he had initially believed.

               But now was not the time for sentiment. There was a war raging outside that Peter needed to become a part of. Rosalie hid herself away in the back room and Bone rushed toward the door. He punched Peter in the arm as he went, shouting back “Quit wasting time, we’ve got giants to kill!” Peter nodded once and then rushed off after him.  

               One by one, the giants scooped up scores of men and dwarves alike, squeezing them in one hand until they splattered or chewing them to pieces with their gnarly teeth. Soon the snowy battlefield was stained red with blood. Peter’s heart raced as he fought with everything he had, his palms beginning to sweat. Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea after all. His men were getting slaughtered, and there was nothing he could do to save them. He thought about their families, their wives and children, and how some of them would never return now. How he would have to break the news and watch them fall to their knees hysterical. He did this. This was his fault. He looked to Bone across the way, slashing at giants left and right, sweat beading on his brow. He was right. They likely would’ve been better off letting him and his men handle things. It was too late to turn back now, though. The battle had already begun, they were already devoted to the cause. He needed to stop focusing on the death and destruction, on feeling empty and worthless and disgusting, and turn his attention to the task at hand: protecting his land and killing the enemy.

               Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the alcohol, or both, that started affecting him. Maybe the heartbreak finally caught up to him. The battle wore on, and soon the High King’s vision grew hazy. A pale white hand reached out in front of him, sword drawn, and his heart raced. The snow around him melted to lush grass, the sun blinding. A familiar face, bathed in bright light, smirked back at him as her blade sliced through flesh in slow motion, splattering blood everywhere.

               You’re not supposed to be here, he thought. You promised you would stay out of this. She narrowed her dark eyes at him, her chapped lips pursed as if to say You don’t own me. You don’t tell me what to do. I am a warrior, and I will fight as it is my duty and instinct.

               A giant swooped down and swiped his hand across the field, sending every man in his path sliding toward the tavern. Peter choked, squeezed between three rather large men, before he heard the slam of impact. He turned around to find a body hunched on the ground, blood oozing from her side. I told you that you would get yourself killed if you came out here, he wanted to say. He fell to his knees, reached out to pull her in close, but all he found in his arms was cold, lifeless snow. Tears brimmed and a lump rose in his throat. She was never there, fighting alongside him, and she never would be again. She was just a figment of his imagination. A ruse. A sleepy stupor. He reached into his back pocket to caress the little scrap of red fabric, the last piece of her that remained. This was so wrong. She didn’t deserve to die. She wasn’t supposed to die. There was no way he could bring her back. The heavy footsteps of a giant on the run shook the ground from behind him. For a moment, he wished he would just end it all, send him to wherever people go when they die here so he can be with her again. But that was too selfish. He still had Susan and Edmund and Lucy to take care of. He still had a family he needed to return to. He still had a letter that needed a response. Besides, he knew better than to let himself get killed. He heard Eilonwy’s voice in his head, shouting at him to do something. When he looked up, however, he was met with Bone’s stony gaze. They really are quite alike, Peter thought to himself. Eilonwy would never have wanted him to do something so stupid. Just because she had died, didn’t mean Peter had to, as well. It was at that moment that he decided right here, in the place of her death, he would fight with every ounce of strength he had and defeat these terrible creatures with the scrap of her cape in his pocket and the sword she helped name in his hand. It was all for her. Everything he did, and everything he would ever do. He would honor her in the only way he knew how: by continuing to fight as she could not do.

               The battle raged until nightfall, the cloudy sky fading from dim orange to bleak navy. Corpses of giants littered the meadow—those who did not perish mostly retreated back home to nurse their wounds. The stench of the dead bodies was unimaginable. Peter removed his sword from the chest of a fallen enemy, sweating and gasping for breath. He had given himself completely to the fight, and worked for hours without so much as a brief respite. He was too high on determination, too desperate for victory. It was all for her, and now he was triumphant just as promised.

               “We did good work” he heard Bone announce, one foot on the bloody hand of the enemy. He surveyed the land, nodding with satisfaction. “This should keep us fed for the rest of the year” he added, and Peter nearly vomited in his mouth. The captain ushered everyone inside the tavern to get patched up, then insisted the able bodied begin carting the corpses away to be taken care of. To his surprise, Bone slapped Peter on the back as he entered, then nodded once and said, “You’re not so bad after all, kid.”

               The tavern’s dining room quickly filled with many a weary soldier, some of whose injuries were worse than others. Rosalie rushed to each man as quickly as possible, treating the worst first as was only appropriate. As Peter began to sober up, he surveyed the men around him in a sort of sleepy haze. He almost felt desensitized to the chaos after such an intense battle. Some men screamed in agony, blood dribbling down their lips and chins and staining their clothes. Tristan lay on the floor near the fireplace writhing in pain. He had lost his arm but not his life, or at least yet. The outlook was bleak. Peter hoped he would make it through the night.

               By midnight most of the severe cases had been taken care of and had passed out with the help of the ample supply of booze. Though his wounds were minor at best, Rosalie still insisted on treating Peter just as she had the others, pressing with a docile giggle that even kings deserve treatment. As the she-minotaur worked, Peter looked about at the dwarfs piled upon men, their sweetly calm faces and melodic snoring. There was a sort of relief to the peacefulness of it all that calmed the High King even further. There was one thing, however, that struck a strong tinge of curiosity in him.

               “Rosalie, where did Bone go?” he asked, breaking the streak of silence. Rosalie paused for a moment and gulped.

               “It’s not unlike Captain Bone to retreat to his chambers for some solitude after a big battle” she then explained. She kept her large eyes fixed on her work.

               “But what about his wounds? Shouldn’t he get treated, as well?” Peter asked. He was certain that despite his confidence, there was no way Captain Bone had left that battle unscathed.

               “I’ll cater to his wounds later” Rosalie replied. “Right now, he’s insisted on alone time to rest and recharge.”

               Peter was not about to argue with what Rosalie and Bone had previously agreed to, but he couldn’t help but stare at that back door utterly perplexed. Just another layer of mystery and intrigue added to the story that was Captain Elias Bone. A part of him wondered if he would ever uncover the whole truth behind this man, but as his eyelids grew heavier, he knew there was nothing else to be done.

               Come morning, Peter and his men packed their things and prepared for the journey back home. Had she been more assertive, Rosalie would have rejected the idea, insisting that his men needed more time to heal, but Bone stepped in before she could say anything and refuted her idea. It was time for them to go, and that was something even the worst of them understood.

               “I suppose you weren’t that useless after all, kid” Captain Bone said with a boyish nod as Peter and his men prepared to depart. The sky overhead was bright and clear, a fine day for travelling. He hoped the journey home would be smooth and quick.

               “Maybe now you’ll have a little more faith in your High King” Peter suggested, but Bone rolled his eyes and punched Peter on the arm.

               “I don’t like you that much” he replied gruffly.

               Peter gazed around at the little tavern and the clearing outside it, the snow still stained with blood, and for a moment he almost hated to leave this place. So much had happened in the short time he had spent there. And then there was the matter of Eilonwy. Leaving such a place almost felt like leaving her behind, knowing that it was here that she spent her final breaths. He wanted to cling to every last bit of her there ever was, and yet at the same time overstaying his welcome made him nauseous. He feared that if he spent too much time here, visions of that night might drive him mad. No, he was going home. This was for the best.

               “I expect you to take good care of the Northern border” Peter replied. “I trust that it is in good hands should the giants make the poor decision to attack again.”

               “Oh, they’ll certainly be back” Bone said. “Giants are bloody idiots. They’ve got puny brains for such large bodies. I anticipate they’ll no doubt make the same mistake twice. But when they do return, we’ll be ready for them, I’ve no doubt.”

               The High King gave a definitive nod, then peered back at his men. “Well, thank you for the lodging and the help, and I hope you both stay safe” he said. “Maybe one day our paths will cross again?”

               Bone rolled his eyes after a split second of hesitation. “Only in your nightmares, kid.” And with that, Peter bid them a polite farewell before leaping aboard Besnik and riding off. Bone and Rosalie watched from the doorway until the army disappeared into the thick forest, breathing a sigh of relief once they were finally gone.

               “There now, we can finally relax again” the she-minotaur said, locking the front door as Bone slid into a seat at a nearby table. He cleared his throat and rubbed his chest, making a sour expression. “Are you alright?” she then finally asked, inching closer. She poured the man a drink, which he gratefully accepted.

               Captain Bone tugged down his neck scarf and took a long swig of ale. He threw his hat across the floor and ran his fingers through his long, tangled hair. Then off went his leather jacket, and his overshirt, and everything else until he had completely dissolved his outer shell. He glinted at his reflection in his glass and pursed his lips. Pale skin, chapped lips, thick brows, bony and spindly and gross.

               Rosalie cleared her throat. “A-are you alright? Eilonwy?”

               The captain chugged the last of her drink and then threw the empty glass against the wall, watching it shatter across the floor. “I will be. Eventually” she scoffed. Then, after a few more moments, she buried her face in her hands, muttering “God…oh, God…”

               The she-minotaur scooted into the seat beside her and began rubbing her back gently. “It’s alright, Ellie. You’ll be fine.”

               “I can’t believe I did this…” the huntress whispered past the lump in her throat. She refused to let herself cry. “I told him the story, that I was dead. I could literally see his heart break, that…that look on his face…”

               “You didn’t have to do this, you know” Rosalie reminded her. “There would be no harm in having told the truth.”

               “No” Eilonwy shook her head. “No, impossible. This…this was for the best. This, here, is where I belong. Not with him, in that god-awful castle. No. No, I couldn’t do it. I-I don’t…” Her voice was breaking, and her thin hands began to tremble. Rosalie pouted sympathetically and pulled the woman into her arms, kissing her forehead softly.

               “I know that’s what right isn’t always what’s easiest, but I think you handled this very well, all things considering” Rosalie whispered. “I’m proud of you, Ellie, for your unwavering strength and bravery. And I’m honored to call you my dear companion.” It was at this that Eilonwy felt the hot tears begin to surface against her will. Gasping for breath, she buried her face in her hands and let herself finally break down.

[dumbledearme]

chapter seven—fools rush in

read Child of Land and Sea here

Act I — Storm At Sea

Part VII — Wise men say only fools rush in. Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?

Not everything was lost. They used the infinite LotusCash card to pay for a ride from Vegas to Los Angeles. The driver left them at the beach in Santa Monica with no clue of what to do next.

Then Andy had another one of her ideas.

It blew her mind to think that her own father, the one she had never met, the one that had abandoned her, the one that was a freakin' god, controlled the seas. Two thirds of the Earth's surface was covered in water. How could someone be that powerful?

Well, time to have a taste of it.

She walked into the sea.

"Andy?" Anthony called, a note of amusement in his voice. "What are you doing?" She didn't answer and kept on walking. "You know how polluted that water is? There's all kinds of toxic—"

That's when her head went under. At first, Andy held her breath, afraid of what would happen. It wasn't easy to willingly inhale water. When she couldn't take it anymore, she gasped. Sure enough, she could breathe normally.

Now came the complicated part.

Andy focused in the lack of memories she had of her dad. It was hard; there wasn't a smile, a caress or even a familiar smell. But there was the sea around her. The waves. The salt. All the things that made him the sea god. This is who he is, she realized.

"Please," she pleaded. "Please, help me." She closed her eyes and waited. When she opened them, the ghost woman was there.

"Andy Jackson," she said.

"Who are you?" Andy had to ask.

"I'm a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It has been many years since a child of the sea has been born. We have watched you with great interest."

"Why doesn't he speak to me? You know, personally?"

"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid said. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism."

"Even to their own children?"

"Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift." She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm. "I know you journey to Hades' realm. Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"

"With a little effort, I can burp the entire alphabet."

The Nereid narrowed her eyes. "You possess gifts you have only begun to know. The oracle has foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to adulthood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore, take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"Depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"Alright. What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can. He never willingly lets people leave his realm. Keep faith. And good luck, Andromeda."

Getting there wasn't that hard. They convinced the security guard to let them pass. His name was Charon. He put them on the boat and complained all the way that he was underpaid. The boat went on, crossing a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other strange things.

Anthony said it was the River Styx. He said it was polluted with dreams, hopes, wishes that never came true. Thinking of that and of all the dead people around her, Andy started to panic. She wasn't supposed to be here. She took Anthony's hand, needing reassurance that somebody else was alive.

Then, of course, there was the dog. The giant three headed dog really wanted to eat them. Andy didn't think they would pass that. But Anthony somehow managed to control Cerberus. Bossing him around, really. He was so bossy even the gigantic hellhound did as he wanted! The dog couldn't wait to do what he said, to be pet, to be given attention.

It was unbelievable.

"No," Anthony told her. "That was obedience school."

After a while, Andy came to the realization that the dead weren't scary—they were just sad. Most of them were doomed to a waiting line. A lot of them were condemned to the Fields of Punishment. Only very few went to Elysium.

Suddenly, Grover yelped. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward dragging him away. "Maia!" he yelled, but that didn't work.

Andy and Anthony ran after him.

"Untie the shoes," Anthony shouted. But he couldn't. He was being taken to a dark tunnel that got darker and colder the further they went. Fortunately, Grover hit the wall and one of the sneakers fell; he lost speed. Anthony caught up to him and helped him take off the other shoe.

They all collapsed, exhausted.

Anthony glanced at the end of the tunnel. "This is the entrance to Tartarus," he said softly.

"We have to get out of here," cried Grover. They ran the other way a little too slowly because Andy's backpack was weighing her down. Something seemed to be trying to inhale them.

Finally, they got out of the tunnel. "What was that?"

Andy glanced at Anthony; he was obviously nursing an idea, but he chose not to share. "Let's keep going," he said. "Grover, can you walk?"

"Yeah, sure," he swallowed. "I never liked those shoes anyway."

They kept going until the found the garden. It was strange and dangerous. All around them there was poisonous mushrooms and shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Right at the center, there was an orchard of pomegranate trees.

"The garden of Persephone," said Anthony, who seemed to know everything about everything. "Don't touch anything." Sure enough, the smell of the pomegranates was overwhelming. Andy really wanted to have one.

They walked up the steps of the palace. Andy's backpack weighed a ton now.

Hades was the third god she got to meet, but the first one who struck her as godlike. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He was wearing black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. Immediately, Andy felt like he should be the one giving the orders. He knew more than she did. He was smarter, more powerful, more graceful, more—

Snap out of it!, she told herself.

"You are brave to come here, little one," he said; his voice sounded bored. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or very foolish."

Andy stepped forward. "Lord Hades, I come with two requests."

He raised an eyebrow. There were shadows moving around him. "What am I? A genie? You arrogant child. You have taken enough."

"I've taken nothing," she said, defensively. The throne room shook and Andy almost lost her balance.

Hades bellowed, "You think I want war, godling?"

"Well, you did take the master bolt."

"LIES!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne. "Your father may fool Zeus, but I am not stupid. I see his plan."

"Excuse me?"

"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he accused. "Your father thought to keep you his dirty little secret. You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at that school, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open."

"Lord Hades," called Anthony and Andy could almost see the gears turning inside his head. "Your helm of darkness is missing, too?"

"Do not play innocent with me, son of Athena. You and the satyr have been helping the girl—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

"Sir—"

"I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me, I did not stop you. Return my helm now, godling, or I will stop death. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you—Andromeda Jackson—your skeleton will lead my army out of—"

"You're crazy," Andy snapped. "You're absolutely insane."

Hades seemed too shocked about the accusation to speak.

"You've been sending monsters after me because you think I stole something from you? Never occurred to you, I suppose, to prove that I had such item. Of course, Zeus did the same thing, didn't he? You are all out of your minds!"

"RETURN MY PROPERTY!" He demanded.

"I DON'T HAVE IT!" she yelled back at him. "I don't have your stupid helm. I don't have the master bolt. I didn't do anything wrong, so stop trying to kill me!"

Hades glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes. "I have not tried to kill you. I wanted you alive. I only ever sent the Furies to capture you. As for not having the helm and the bolt..." Hades grinned wickedly. "Open your pack."

A horrible feeling struck Andy. She let the pack fall from her shoulders and it hit the ground with a bang. Andy unzipped it and there it was it: the lightning bolt.

"Andy!" exclaimed Anthony.

"You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus' master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. Also, my helm."

Andy was feeling a kind of anger she had never experienced before. She wanted to go around punching gods in the face. They—all of them!—had played her. They were using her.

"This is wrong," she shook her head. "This is a mistake."

An army of skeletons appeared circling Andy, Anthony and Grover.

"There's no mistake," said Hades. "I know why you hesitate. I know what you want. You came for her." And then she was there, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was when the Minotaur took her. "Yes. I knew, Andromeda Jackson, that you would come to me. Now make your choice. I know you have pearls with you. But do you realize they each only protects a single person? Take your mother and pick one of your friends to leave behind. Go on. Choose. Or give me the bolt and the helm and I'll let you all go."

"Andy," Grover said from behind her. "Leave me here. You can't give him the bolt. Take your mom and go. I'm a satyr. We don't have souls like humans. He can't torment me forever."

"No," said Anthony. "I'll stay. You'll get your searcher's license. Get out of here. I'll cover you. I'll go down fighting."

"I'm staying," argued Grover.

"No. I am."

Andy turned to face them and handed each a pearl. Her heart felt like it was being split in two. "Andy—"

"I will find your helm," she told Hades before smashing the pearl. She could only hope the others had done the same. While she was being transported, Andy made a vow to save her mother. She would come back for her. She wouldn't fail like the prophecy said. She would save what mattered most in the end.

They were back at the beach. Andy looked out at the sea, but she wasn't really seeing it. She couldn't breath. She felt her body shaking, the tears streaming down her face. She couldn't fight it. She couldn't deal with it. Was she having a panic attack?

Suddenly, he was there. Anthony wrapped his arms around her and Andy sobbed against his shoulder. She sobbed out the fear, the sadness and the anger. She let it all out. She sobbed until there was nothing left. Then she straightened up and looked over Anthony's shoulder.

Ares was standing a few feet away, seeming genuinely pleased to see her or to see her crying. "You were supposed to be dead."

Andy marched toward him. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

He grinned. "Not personally. You're not the only hero who can run errands."

"Who?"

"Don't matter. The point is: you need to die in the Underworld. Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus' master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..." from his pocket he took out a ski cap that before their eyes transformed into a war helmet. "Pretty soon, there'll be war."

"But they're your family," said Anthony.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight."

"Why didn't you keep the master bolt to yourself?" Andy asked. Ares got a twitch in his jaw. He seemed to be listening to a voice inside his head.

"I didn't... I... Because... A power like that..." His face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble."

"You're lying," she said. "It wasn't your idea."

"Of course it was."

"You didn't order the theft. Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. The thing... That thing in the pit is ordering you around!"

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

Andy raised an eyebrow. "I never said you did."

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover with a smirk. "I will kill you now, kid. Nothing personal." He snapped his fingers and a wild boar appeared.

"Fight me yourself, you coward."

He laughed, but there was an edge to it. "Your only talent is running. So don't push me."

"Andy, looked out!" Anthony shouted as the boar charged. But Andy had had enough of that. She was done. It was time to put an end to it.

She uncapped the pen and knelt on the sand. The boar was there within seconds and she impaled him with the sword. The beast disappeared in smoke.

Andy stood. "Are you going to fight me now?"

Ares' face was purple with rage. "Watch, kid. I could turn you into—"

"Do it, then. Do your absolute worst."

"You are asking for it." A sword appeared in his hand.

"Andy," Anthony called. "He's a god."

"No. He's a coward."

"I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

"A smaller ego," she said. "If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine." Andy attacked. Ares was quick. He twisted and slashed and forced Andy into the ocean. He knocked the blade out of her hands and slapped her across the face. Andy lost balanced and fell.

She was seeing double, but she got up as the water healed her. Her senses were working overtime. She could see where he was tensing. She could tell which way he would strike. Andy picked Riptide and deflected when he attacked.

She felt the rhythm of the sea. She felt its power. She felt her dad.

She sent the tide over him and attacked at the same time. He turned in time to raise his sword but the water disoriented him. Andy changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel.

The roar that followed made Hades' earthquake look like a minor event.

The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded. He limped toward Andy, cursing, but something stopped him. He lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he told her. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Andromeda Jackson." His body began to glow.

"Andy, don't look!" Anthony shouted. Andy turned the moment the god revealed his true immortal form.

The light died. He was gone, but the Furies were there.

"We've watched the whole thing," hissed Mrs. Dodds.

"Return this to Hades," Andy said throwing the helmet at her. Mrs. Dodds hesitated, then disappeared.

Then Grover and Anthony were there beside her, watching her in amazement.

"Andy..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly..."

"Awesome."

"So awesome," Grover agreed.

But Andy didn't feel awesome. She just felt empty. Exhausted. There was nothing left.

"We have to go back to New York. Tonight."

"That's impossible," Anthony said. "Unless we—"

"Fly, yes."

Anthony stared at her. "Chiron warned you not to. Zeus will strike you out of the sky and—"

"No, he won't. Because he wants this back, doesn't he?" Andy pointed at the backpack and smiled.

[shuttershocky]

Fate/Grand Order NA edition: A Recap

A quick recap of some of the events that happened so far in the misadventures of Mash and Guda:

FUYUKI

A teenager (we shall call them Guda) answers an ad in the papers, ends up in a military base called Chaldea hidden in the Himalayas.

A bomb toasts everybody inside the base.

Mash and Guda time travel back to the edgiest version of Fate/Stay Night where Saber Alter rules with an iron fist.

Mash, a cute Chaldea clerk, fuses with the ghost of some guy, gets a massive shield to bludgeon people with. 

Cu Chulainn beats people up with the Wicker Man; Thankfully leaves out the bees.

Their boss turns out to be a bad guy and throws their other, dead boss’ ghost into a black hole, making her super dead-er.

The only staff surviving at Chaldea is the ghost of Leonardo Da Vinci and the absentminded doctor she’s fucking.

ORLEANS

Gilles de Raiss, unhappy with the canon ending, makes an edgy Jeanne D’Arc OC to fix it.

The real Jeanne is summoned without her Ruler powers, joins Mash and Guda on their merry stroll through France.

Some countries have roaches, others have rats. France has dragons.

It also has vampires.

Marie Antoinette pulls a drive-by shootout with the vampires to rescue Jeanne D’Arc and company.

They escape because Mozart makes the vampires vomit and/or poop themselves with a piano attached to the back of Marie’s carriage.

They bond. Marie learns what a homie is. Marie and Jeanne are super gay.

Kiyohime and Liz are first introduced. FGO is never the same.

They rescue the German hero Sumanai Siegfried from a castle. He’s pretty beat up.

They need saints to heal him for some reason. Good thing St. George spawns... on the other side of the map.

Do you really wanna hurt us this way George? Really? Take anyone else instead. Take this Mephistopheles, he’s just hanging around in my archive!

Big Bad Battle with Cheese and Dragons. Assassins recommended.

Jeanne vs Jeanne. The edgy OC is no match for the original of course.

Gilles is kicked back into the depths of FF.net where he belongs

SEPTEM

U M U

All of Nero’s forebears in the Roman empire form an alliance against her called Every Villain Is Lemons, also known as EVIL

Nero brings the company to Britain from Italy. On foot.

Mash suffocates under the overwhelming force that is Boudica’s boobs.

Nero chops down the ghosts of Roman emperors past one by one. No biggie.

Mash and Guda find their bad boss in the capital and oh shit he’s a demon from hell.

RIP AND TEAR 

The demon summons Atilla the Hun. He is later of two minds about this choice.

Nero punches Atilla in the face. Civilization will never die!

THE MOON FESTIVAL

Someone steals all the dumplings. Now Chaldea’s gonna starve.

Some booby archer pesters Mash and Guda about helping them recover the food.

Marie doesn’t remember her own homies.

Never mind she totally does.

Saint George is into photography.

Martha is into dumplings, bondage, and breaking faces. Tsk tsk, Saint Martha.

Martha makes her escape by jumping on to her dragon Tarrasque, who begins to fly by spinning around rapidly until it zooms away like a UFO. She probably puked at some point.

Altera, Atilla The Hun, the great destroyer herself, explains the differences of good and bad civilization.

Surprise surprise, Booby Archer is a bad guy- holy shit this is the goddess of the hunt?

Please don’t spook my guaranteed SSR gacha Artemis, I beg you. I’ll do anything you want just don’t come home.

OKEANOS

Sir Francis Drake, Pirate Queen.

Blackbeard. Weeb.

And lo, Captain Drake did shot the god Poseidon in the face, declaring with a mighty shout “Let there be booze!”, and the crew were drunk with infinite booze, and it was good.

Blackbeard wins the award for cringiest villain.

Drake and her motley crew recruit Medusa’s bitchy sister Euryale and her hot monster boyfriend, Asterios The Minotaur.

OH NO ORION AND ARTEMIS ARE BACK SOMEONE CALL THE COPS

The Golden Hind VS The Queen Anne’s Revenge, battle of two legendary pirate ships, FIGHT

Artemis and Orion board the Queen Anne’s Revenge during the fight in an admittedly cool action scene. Orion blows a hole into the ship.

Blackbeard is a tough bastard, but Drake literally killed the god of the seas for some booze so

Hektor, hero of Troy, won’t shut up about being an old man. Also he betrays Blackbeard.

Blackbeard to Drake: “Secretly, I admired you...r boobs.” *dies*

Drake trades upwards, gets the Argonauts as her new nemesis

Jason is just as much of a shitter in Fate as he is in mythology. Who would have guessed?!

Wait wasn’t one of the most famous members of the Argonauts the great hero Hera-OH GOD HE’S HERE WE HAVE TO RUN

Asterios vs Heracles summed up:

Guda: Well now that we lost our muscle we need reinforcements. Atalanta and David: Hi

Atalanta meets her God. She now believes in atheism.

David: Yeah I actually have the most dangerous thing on Earth with me as a second noble phantasm. Everyone else: It’s a box. David: I know. It’s got nerves of steel.

Who would win? A nigh-immortal demigod, son of Zeus and the strongest hero there is, or some box?

“Hey Jason, eat a dick.” - Medea Lily

Eating a dick turns you into a vessel for yet another Demon God. As Jason painfully finds out.

RIP AND TEAR 2.0

David: Yeah all of this time-stream dicking is my idiot son’s fault. It would be just like him, for he was an idiot. Roman: Nuh-uh! David: Yeah-uh!

Goodbye, Captain Drake. T’was an honor to be one of yer hearty crew.

HALLOWEEN 2015(17?)

An invitation? To a party? But all of history was dicked. Where are you supposed to hold a par-is that a castle?

Mash: hOLY SHIT I GET TO PUNCH GHOSTS Guda: Mash calm dow- Mash: WHEN THERE’S SOMETHING STRANGE

Kiyohime casually defies the laws of space and time (again).

Mata Hari: *Starts stripdancing* Mash: :O Kiyo: >:( Roman: :D

Carmilla uses her noble phantasm to clean a spot. I-I’m not even exaggerating this is actually a thing that happens.

Vlad is the supportive uncle who knits for his fellows.

Tamamo Cat; nothing she says ever makes any sense.

Elizabeth Bathory: Surprise! All of this was to prepare you for a special private concert from an up and coming pop idol star!

Everyone: Liz you are a bad Me, tears falling onto my phone: Liz you are a good

Liz: Y-you d-didn’t like m-m-my concert? Everyone: Boo you suck! Me: I LOVED IT BABY YOU’RE GONNA BE A BIG STAR ONE DAY

GODDAMNIT VLAD STOP BEING STUBBORN AND DROP THE GODDAMN CE.

GUDAGUDA HONNOUJI

Split psyche story

What you expected: Angry Nobu, sad Nobu, kinda freaky happy Nobu

What you got:

Rabbit season? Duck season? No. It’s Nobbu season.

A whole string of really funny jokes if you’re a fan of Oda Nobunaga’s place in Japan’s history.

Even more funny jokes that don’t require knowledge of the Sengoku Period

Arash chases after the crew while on fire and screaming “STELLAAA!!”, blows up over Ushiwakamaru’s army

Mash and friends somehow run all the way into the desert.

I give up. There is no way to exaggerate anything that happens in this event.

 It is just bonkers.

Oda Nobunaga and Okita Souji for best couple

THE SCATHACH TRIAL

DW: Boy we sure hope you’re not tired of the Fuyuki map!

Stupid, sexy Scathach: Greetings. Guda: Gaddamn. Mash: Senpai, for once can you not be a perv- Stupid, sexy Scathach: *flips her hair* Mash: Holy fuck I’m so gay right now.

Scathach casually kills ten thousand ghosts.

Scathach casually teaches her new students while crushing a skull with one hand and flexing with the other.

Scathach also gives the nicest headpats.

Brock from Pokemon Fergus joins the party.

Mash: And then, Cu Chulainn saved us in his sexy druid outfit. Scathach and Fergus: Druid outfit? AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Fergus: God I’m just super horny right now. Scathach: I’m pretty DTF myself but only the finest warriors can get some of this. Fergus: Well do I qualif- Scathach: No.

Altera: Hi Fergus: *Dies from nosebleed*

For the final part of the trial, Scathach summons another warrior to replace Fergus.

Diarmuid knows its fanservice day. He doesn’t even bother to put on a shirt.

Artemis: I’m baaaacckk~ Me: AHHH KILL IT! KILL IT!

Scathach to Artemis: From one booby servant to another, your kind of fanservice is super gross and wrong my dude. Domestic violence against men is a very real concern. Now I’m gonna spank you.

Scathach kicks divine ass. Thank you, Shishou!

Scathach: Now before I leave kids, what did we learn? Mash and Guda: That the road ahead of us is long and dark, but if we hold firm and believe in each other, we can be humanity’s saviors from the dark? Scathach: No. What did we really learn? Me: That now I can’t not have you in my Chaldea and must ask for an advanced paycheck this instant? Scathach: Good child.

[chatcolat]

Harlem Saints Chapter 2

Nico and Bianca grow up in Italian Harlem with their mom during WWII and form a group of superheros with a bunch of other halfbloods to save the city from monsters. 

There were around three hundred boys in attendance at St. Francis, the Catholic boys’ school on the edge of East Harlem, and only one was black. His name was Hernando Joaquin Vasquez. His father was a poet in Black Harlem as well as a jazz musician who played at the nightclubs where only wealthy white people went. He was pretty famous, even in Little Italy. Joaquin’s mother was Athena, goddess of war and creativity. This little fact was known only to his father, the di Angelos, and Marcella.

Joaquin was not the first Black Harlem kid to attend the mostly Italian school, but he was the only one there now. They had wanted him to play basketball and offered him free tuition. The joke was, Joaquin didn’t play basketball, he wrote novels in and played saxophone in his spare time. He was also Nico’s best and only friend but their relationship was usually confined to the school grounds because neither felt particularly safe in the other’s part of the city.

Fate was a funny thing - something Nico believed in without much effort and something Joaquin said was full of shit. But Nico thought there was no way that of all the schools that could have offered Joaquin a spot, it was the one with another demigod. How could it not be fate when they ended up in the same class every year?

“Coincidence, my friend,” was Joaquin’s reply any time Nico brought it up. “If you start calling every miracle fate, then you give those blind old ladies too much power over you.”

It was the last day of school before summer vacation, the classroom was sweltering and the Tagliocozza brothers were up to their usual antics. Joaquin was reading a magazine while Nico skimmed the recent issue of Captain America. Three years in and it was still his favorite comic. He never missed an issue. Their art teacher was no where to be seen, as usual.

“di Angelo,” Tony Tagliocozza called from the front of the room where he and his brother wrote crude things on the blackboard.

Tony’s stupider clone, Benny, had just finished drawing poor representations of male geneaelia on the board. Nico secretly hoped the teacher would come back now and catch them in the act.

“di Angelo,” Tony repeated, walking down the row of desks towards him. Heads turned to watch his progress. Everyone knew that what would happen: The Tagliocozza’s would make a horrible joke about Maria di Angelo, the unmarried owner of a nice apartment complex having two children with her name, then Nico would punch them. The odds would be uneven, though Nico would hold his own, until Joaquin set down his magazine and stood up to join his friend. At some point a teacher would come in, the boys would laugh and pretend they were playing, and the fighting would halt until another day when the Tagliocozza boys were bored.

“I saw your mother down by Giretti’s last night,” Tony sneered. Giretti’s was the bar near Marcella’s house. It wasn’t necessarily a prostitution den, but that wasn’t to say that morally upstanding women went there. Nico knew for a fact Maria di Angelo had never set foot in such a place.

“You saw wrong, then,” Nico replied. Joaquin was still reading and Benny was still drawing on the board. Nico did not like being in fights because Maria did not like him being in them. Every time he came home with another black eye, he would find her crying later, when she thought no one was watching. It ate at him in a way nothing else could.

“She was with Marco Giretti,” the son of Antonio Giretti, a mobster, and an infamous playboy who was too young to interest the likes of Maria di Angelo anyways.

Nico stuck to Captain America taking on the Nazis. He longed to be a hero from his comics, fighting bad guys and saving people. Nico wanted to be like Steve Rodgers. After all, what was the purpose of being a demigod if all it meant was going to Catholic school and hiding from harpies? Instead of defending the world from fascism, he was stuck in art class, trying not to fight with Tony. It wasn’t the fighting or the glory and fame that he was drawn to, but the whole idea of making the world safe. When Steve Rodgers agreed to undergo an experimental procedure to become a super human, he hadn’t been thinking of what he could do for himself, but what he could do for others.

“Wanna know what she was doing with Marco Giretti, huh di Angelo?” Tony did not like being ignored. Nico was about to tell him to shove off when something outside the classroom window caught his eye. A flash of green and grey feathers - the harpy from yesterday.

“di Angelo, are you hearing me? I said-“

“Not now, Tagliocozza,” he stood up so suddenly, Tony, who had been leaning in right next to him, stumbled back. Joaquin was looking up now, a question in his eyes. Nico jerked his head towards the window and started walking out of the classroom.

“Hey! di Angelo! Where the hell do you think you’re going? Class isn’t changing yet!” Tony called after him. “What? Not you too, Vasquez!”

There had been one time, and only one time, when the harpies had found the school and it had been chaos. Reported as gang violence in the news, the whole auditorium had been wrecked during an assembly. Joaquin and Nico had only barely missed the claws that sought them.

“What is it?” Joaquin asked as he jogged to catch up with his friend.

“Harpy,” Nico replied. He had no clue where he was going, he just knew they needed to get away from other people.

“You’re walking like you have a plan, but you don’t, do you,” Joaquin commented as they reached the stairs at the end of the hall. They were on the third floor.

“Getting to the first floor where we can’t be dragged out a window is step one,” Nico made that decision on the spot.

“Then?”

“You’re the son of Athena, plans are your thing!” Nico was taking the steps two at a time. Despite what he said, he was still thinking over some possible plan. School was too far from Our Lady of Mount Carmel, they could never get there in time. The incense of regular churches was usually enough to keep them from being tracked or sniffed out, but once they had been found, it was useless.

“I feel like being around people is our best bet right now,” Joaquin was in step with him. “Otherwise we’re easy targets.”

Nico shook his head. “Then other people could get hurt.”

“Just trying to come up with a plan, here.” Joaquin sounded irritated. He was brilliant and didn’t like being told he wasn’t.

“I know, keep trying,” he tried to sound encouraging, but fear was starting to build up in his chest. Was it just him, or were monsters becoming more and more common lately? It was like the war in Europe had gotten them all stirred up and ready for trouble on this side of the pond as well.

“Statue of Gabriel in the chapel,” Joaquin almost shouted as they reached the first floor and he pivoted left down the hall to the chapel.

“What about it?” Nico tried not to slip on the recently mopped floor as he followed after him.

“He’s holding a sword.” When realization did not dawn on Nico’s face, Joaquin added, “It’s detachable. Was built separately. We can pull it out and use it.” They were running at this point, or at least as close to it as they could get without arousing the suspicion of the nuns. Even though he couldn’t see one and there were no classrooms in this hallway, the sisters always seemed to know the moment someone switched from a fast walk to a run and the last thing the boys needed was an angry nun.

“Wait. Are you saying… You want to use the sword of Gabriel to kill a harpy?”

“Why is that so hard for you to understand, comic nerd? Obviously I want to use the sword on the harpy!” Joaquin barely kept himself from throwing open the doors to the small chapel adjoining the school. He and Nico peeked inside, then scuttled towards the alcove in the back where the statue of Gabriel was, looking for all the world like an avenging angel, his hallowed face illuminated with chipped paint that had probably applied to the statue long after it was made. In his hand, a sword of black iron stabbed into the devil crouched below him. The devil screamed in silent agony. Nico had never paid the writhing form of the devil near as much attention as the handsome face of Gabriel, but now he noticed how much its red and brown form looked like the Minotaur in the book Maria kept stashed away until story nights.

“Well,” Nico muttered, looking at the fierce-looking sword in the statue. It wasn’t so much a sword as an extra-long knife. The more he looked at it, the less he liked Joaquin’s plan. “Are you going to grab it?”

Joaquin hesitated. “I… something doesn’t seem right.”

There was something off about it, something about the naked black blade in the hands of the angel felt wrong. This was a relic from the Vatican, they knew, but the sword looked the exact opposite of holy. The shadows around them twitched and quivered, like they were being drawn to the sword. What sculptor in their right mind would put such a horrifying thing in the hands of Gabriel?

“Yeah,” Nico agreed. “Something about it… it’s not even a proper sword! There’s no handle or anything.” The blade was naked, no hilt to save the wielders’ hands from the raw power of the metal. But he wanted to grab it anyways. It called to him. He tried to fight against it. Dark magic swords were the sort of bad news he didn’t need in his life right now. He wanted to be Captain America, not a supervillain.

“It makes me feel cold,” Joaquin said, taking a step back. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I remembered it being bigger.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth then the door burst open behind them and the harpy hobbled in, her bird feet clacking on the stone floors. The stench of death rolled off her, filling the church with her foulness. The musty smell of incense was slowly being overpowered by the rank smell of harpy.

Her beady eyes found them, locking first on Joaquin, then Nico, then the statue. It could have been a trick of the dim church light, but Nico swore she looked straight at the sword.

“Hello, little halfbloods,” she cooed. “Why don’t you come over here and make this quick?”

“How about you come over here, and we’ll make it quicker,” Joaquin taunted. Nico shot him a look that clearly asked why are you inviting her over here?

The harpy cackled. “I’m not stupid, son of Athena. Stygian iron isn’t something you play with, boys.”

They glanced at each other. Stygian iron?

“Only those of the Underworld can touch it,” her eyes bored into Nico. He shivered. “So unless one of you is a son of Hades, I wouldn’t get much closer if I were you.”

She smiled revealing sharp, jagged teeth beneath her blood red lips. Nico had seen that color on the models in Bianca’s magazines, but he had a feeling the harpy wasn’t wearing Max Factor.

Nico wished Bianca was here now. It wasn’t that she was fearless – Nico knew her better than that – it was that she handled the pressure of her fear much better than he did. When she was scared, she used it to fuel her actions. Nico’s fear usually fueled him to turn and run. But Joaquin wasn’t backing down, so he couldn’t either. Besides, they had backed themselves into a corner. The only way out was through a harpy.

“I’m getting impatient, boys. I have a quota to fill. Zeus doesn’t want a bunch of you running around and causing havoc in the New World.” She snapped her teeth together a few times, like a bird snapping its beak, but when she did it, it sounded less like clack clack and more like it’s time for lunch.

She took a few steps forward. Joaquin tensed. Nico could see in his eyes he was searching for a way out of this.

She took another cautious step, her eyes fixed on the sword. She really didn’t like that thing, which made Nico like it all the more.

“When she charges, dive right,” Joaquin hissed. Nico barely had time to understand what he said when the harpy lifted her wings and flew straight towards them, not really flying as much as gliding towards them. Joaquin dove left, ducking under a pew. Nico, however, had already made up his mind. Faster than he knew possible, he turned and ripped the sword from Gabriel’s hands. He felt all the warmth drain from his body. The blood coursing through his veins felt slower, colder, turning to ice.

The harpy barely had time to scream, her feet clacking on the stones as she tried to slow herself down. One of her claws raked across his chest as she tried to stop herself, to back away from the sword.  Too late, she crashed into Nico, the sword coming down on one of her wings. She screeched. Her cries of agony bounced off the walls of the church. And she was gone. It wasn’t like when Bianca killed the weird dog things last month. That had dissolved into dust. This was more like the sword absorbed the harpy – like it ate her. Nico staggered back, blood seeping over his uniform. Maria would not approve.

“What the hell man,” Joaquin was shaken, coming around the pew, his wide eyes fixed on Nico.

Nico had no response. He tried to take a step, but the world seemed disconnected. It spun one way and he spun another. The sword clattered from his hands as he pitched forward. Joaquin caught him before he smacked his head against the unforgiving floor of the chapel.

“Nico, Nico can you hear me?” He tried to nod, but just keeping his eyes open was a struggle. He had never felt this tired before. He was so tired he felt sick. And cold. It didn’t feel like May, it felt like the dead of January when fuel for the heaters ran out. It was like all the energy had drained out of him. Moving his eyelids up and down took so much effort, it gave him vertigo.

“Nico!” Joaquin’s voice sounded terrified.

“Nico!” Another voice screamed. He knew that voice, but it was so hard to place it right now. He forced his eyes open again, but they wouldn’t focus.

“Bianca! There was a harpy. He grabbed the sword from Gabriel and it – I don’t know, the harpy just disappeared or something, and now, and now,” Joaquin was crying. Nico thought it was weird, but then he realized, I’m dying.

Dying might be a nice change. No more Tagliocozza brothers. No one cursing Italians under their breath whenever he, Maria, and Bianca left East Harlem. No more of this war and no more rationing. No more going to bed hungry, dreaming of being full again. No more lying in confession. No more hiding from monsters and mobsters. No more afraid.

No, he thought. Don’t think that way. You don’t want to die. Because dying meant no more of Maria’s comforting hugs. No more running with Bianca through the streets. No more playing marbles with Joaquin during recess. And no more Captain America. He could never grow up and join the army like Steve Rodgers. He could never help people.

I will not die.

“Here, give him some of this.” This voice was completely unfamiliar.

Something warm was pressed into his mouth. It tasted like the grapes fresh from the vines of his grandfather’s vineyard back in Italy. He hadn’t thought about them in years, but all the comfort of warm summer days, lounging under the grapevines with Bianca came back to him then. He felt strength return to his limbs. His fingers and toes tingled as the feeling he never realized he had lost returned. The pain in his chest dulled, thankfully, but he could still feel the skin there knitting back together.  

“Not too much! Too much might start to kill him all over again!” The voice from earlier shouted, the accent sounded weird to him.

He opened his eyes. The light burned so he closed them again.

“Bianca?” He croaked.

“Nico! Nico are you alright? Can you hear me?”

He tried to nod, but it made the nausea come back so he gave up. “I hear you.” Was he speaking English or Italian? He needed to speak English for Joaquin. For the person with the weird accent. He tried to open his eyes again. And again. Until finally it didn’t feel like the light was trying to gauge the balls from their sockets.

Bianca was crouched next to him, holding onto something that looked like a mix between baklava and cake. Joaquin was still supporting his head. Little rivers ran down both their faces. He tried to sit up. Both of them moved to help him.

“Not too fast!” The strange voice from earlier commanded. Now that his senses were returning to him, he could process it more. The voice definitely belonged to a girl, probably closer to his age than Bianca’s. And definitely foreign. Not foreign like an Italian from Harlem, but foreign like the fresh off the boat folks fleeing Europe.

He looked and finally found her, standing behind Bianca so that Nico had to peer around his sister’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of her. She had dark hair in a thick braid down her back and a silver hairband that definitely looked like something girls at Bianca’s school were not allowed to wear, but she did have on a uniform. Her skin was tan. Maybe she was fleeing the campaign in North Africa or the Middle East.

“Who’s she?” he croaked. He no longer felt nauseous.

“This is Zoe Nightshade,” Bianca introduced him. “She’s a follower of Artemis, a Hunter, who transferred to St. Agatha’s last week.” She had never mentioned it before.

Nico tried to keep the hurt from his face, but he could tell Bianca already felt guilty. She hadn’t mentioned another halfblood other than Marcella at school. He had told her the same day he met Joaquin that someone like them had shown up.

“Nice to meet you,” Nico forced out. His throat ached. His mouth ached. Everything ached. But whatever the thing still clutched in Bianca’s hand was, it had helped immensely. His senses were all back. He was awake enough to process some of what had just happened. “Thanks for saving me.”

“Pleasure,” Zoe replied without a drop of sincerity. “We really should be getting back now, Bianca, now that thou know he’s going to be okay. I can’t imagine the matrons being happy to discover us here.”

Bianca hesitated. Her dark brown eyes met Nico’s. “Do you think you’ll be okay? I’ll come get you as soon as school is out.”

Nico nodded as Joaquin helped him to his feet. “I’ll be fine. How did you know to come, anyways?”

Bianca shrugged. “Sibling sense? How did you know when the dog-thing was attacking me?”

He shrugged back as Zoe answered, “Telkhine. It’s called a telkhine.”

Bianca brushed the comment off and asked Nico one more time, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He nodded and Zoe practically dragged her back towards St. Agatha.

As soon as they left, Joaquin spoke up, “I don’t like her.”

“Huh? Bianca?” Nico realized this was the first time the two of them had a chance to meet each other, and what an occasion.

He shook his head. “Zoe Nightshade. Something about her spells trouble.”

Nico looked towards the door his sister had just followed her out of. He still felt a little wobbly. Was his near-death encounter affecting his ability to sense regular danger?

He turned to Joaquin to reply, but the other boy was turned away, looking at the black sword still on the ground, half under one of the pews. Nico couldn’t be sure if the blade itself was writhing or the shadows around it.

“I think that sword tried to kill you, too,” Joaquin said after they had stared at it long enough. So maybe that ruled Hades of the list of possible fathers.

“But it didn’t,” he responded. It made him think of the superheroes in comic books. Weird swords found in a church were definitely up there on the list of things that turned one onto the path of heroism. Or the path of evil. “Should I keep it?”

“Are you crazy?” Joaquin snapped. “It was definitely sucking at you the same way it did the harpy! And even if it wasn’t obviously evil, isn’t stealing from a church a sin or something? Father Ricardo would kick your ass!”

Nico nodded. “We should at least put it back.” But when they turned towards the statue of Gabriel, he already held a sword, this one looking much more like it belonged in his holy hands.

“I think it’s a sign,” Nico confirmed.

“You’re crazy,” Joaquin muttered. “My best friend is crazy.”

Nico di Angelo was not like most boys in East Harlem for a number of reasons. Most boys didn’t get attacked by harpies on the regular. Most boys did not see the triumphant face of the angel Gabriel and feel their heart race. Most boys were not demigods who came back from the dead.

_

ORIGIN STORY. Naturally Nico is a Captain America nerd. He would be. Since MoM isn’t invented... yet ;) He also may have a crush on Steve Rodgers as well as the angel Gabriel.