#image bank long curly hair

[ded-and-gonne]

[dualdeixis]

[Image description: Digital drawings of two original characters in black and white. The Ferrier wears a black, wide-brimmed hat; a shirt with puffy sleeves and an embroidered collar, cuffs, and hem; a vest with geometric patterns; a black, sleeveless overcoat with two lighter stripes near the hem; loose pants; and black sandals. They appear to have short, messy black hair, and their hat casts a shadow over their eyes.

The Sacrifice's clothes are almost entirely white and intricately embroidered. They wear a loose, long-sleeved shirt; a cropped and wide-collared vest which is buttoned together; dimije (voluminous pants which are gathered at the ankle); a cap with coins sewn into the sides; a very long veil which ends in tassels and is pinned to the cap; a necklace of coins; a belt of large metallic roundels; and black shoes. They have long, curly black hair and several moles on their face.

In the first drawing, the Ferrier stands while wringing their hands with an extremely flat expression. The Sacrifice stands behind them and carries a bag, looking off to the side with a small smile.

Next is a comic featuring the two of them, with all of the speech bubbles being cut out from Discord screenshots. There are full descriptions of all of the pages under the cut. End image description.]

first drawing based on this painting of a peasant and nun going to the market by amedeo preziosi; comic based on a convo between me and @wildcatfourteen that reads uncannily like our ocs LOL. happy birthday my friend <33

[Image description: Page one. The Ferrier has a small smirk as they point to an image which reads, "some of y'all would melt down in this situation. ONE HAS GOT TO GO: THE EYE, THE FORMLESS, THE ECSTATIC, THE SUN, THE WOUND, THE EGG." The Sacrifice replies with a carefree smile, "how can you choose ?? are they not all as g_d ordained ??" The next panel shows that the two are sitting on opposite sides of a rowboat, which is stopped at the bank of a river going through a forest. The Sacrifice says, "i mean i guess if youre talking like which motifs i personally like to use in my hymns … i dont do much with the egg so that one" The Ferrier frowns and says, "I don't know if I can forgive u for saying that. Egg… U GET RID OF EGG?" The Sacrifice: "WHICH ONE WOULD U GET RID OF??" The Ferrier: "The ecstatic"

Page two. The Sacrifice stares in astonished silence for a moment, and then says with a cartoony vein popping from their cheek, "I think ur saying that on purpose to piss me off. to get back at me for saying ehg. Why do u hold such hate in your heart" The Ferrier closes their eyes and says nonchalantly, "I'm sorry it's not out of hate." They look off to the side and mutter, "Except u started this with ur egg slander" The Sacrifice glares at them with dismay and says, "THE HATE IN YOUR HEART IS OVERTAKING YOU" The Ferrier glares back, smiling through gritted teeth, and replies, "LOOK IN THR MIRROR"

Page three. The Ferrier pinches the bridge of their nose and says, "I can't believe this is what's causing an argument" The Sacrifice puts their hands on their hips and snaps, "I WASNT EVEN SLANDERING EGGS? IM JUST SAYING PERSONALLY IF YOU FORCED ME? I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST EGGS I EAT THEM ALL THE TIME" The Ferrier: "ITS NOT ABOUT EATINF THEM EVEN THO THEY ARE DELICIOUS AND VERSATILE." They roll their eyes and add, "Sorry for wanting to shatter my shell and be birthed anew" The Sacrifice clasps their hands together with a smile, their eyes hidden by their speech bubble, and says, "see thats the thing for me there is no rebirth only resurrection . its not dying and being birthed anew its about dying and then undying . coming back from death with none of the catharsis of newness just being forced to hold on to the old and what you once were ." The Ferrier pulls their hat down over their eyes and argues, "You say that and yet that is the whole point there is never any real birth of newness but just the illusion of it and the necessity to keep that illusion bc there is no coming back anew but taking whatever dead pieces u have and reconstructing some choppy form of a fresh creature"

Page four. The two sit in silence for a moment. Then the Ferrier says matter-of-factly, "Just like how ecstatic state is fake" The Sacrifice glares at them and says, "how DARE you say ecstatic state is fake ." The background turns black as the Ferrier's eyes go wide, gazing dramatically down at the viewer. They thunder, "ITS TEMPORARY" The Sacrifice, also on a black background, holds their palms up with an ecstatic grin. One of their eyes is teary and a bright halo flashes around their head. They answer, "AS ARE ALL THINGS."

Page five. The Ferrier, looking irritated with a cartoony vein popping from their temple, says, "fine. Fine whatever." They turn away with gritted teeth. "I'm gonna go in my egg shell and not come out EVER !!!!" The Sacrifice smiles with a thumbs up and says, "ok you do that im gonna be out here achieving union with the Beloved 👍" The Ferrier turns as far away from the Sacrifice as they can and crosses their arms. "U go do that. Hmph!" The Sacrifice does the same. "HMPH -_-" A school of black fish swims through the river. A line at the bottom of the panel reads, "THEY STAYED LIKE THIS FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS." End image description.]

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

"'I should like to save the Shire, if I could—though there have been times when I thought the inhabitants too stupid and dull for words, and have felt that an earthquake or an invasion of dragons might be good for them. But I don't feel like that now. I feel that as long as the Shire lies behind, safe and comfortable, I shall find wandering more bearable: I shall know that somewhere there is a firm foothold, even if my feet cannot stand there again.'" - J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring, "The Shadow of the Past"

@aspecardaweek day 1 ⇢ asexuality || FRODO BAGGINS

[ID: an edit comprised of four posters in shades of black, white, grey, and purple (the colors of the asexual flag). Each poster has a light grey background and is framed on one or two sides with dark and light purple lines.

1: A horizontal, rectangular image at the top left shows pakistani model Nyle Khan in black and white. He is a young man with a serious expression and dark curly hair that reaches his shoulders. His head is tilted to the left and he is wearing a white shirt with a collar. Purple text at the bottom of the image reads "frodo" in block letters and "the ringbearer" in lighter purple cursive. White serif text below that reads "And here he was, a little halfling from the Shire, a simple hobbit of the quiet countryside, expected to find a way where the great ones could not go, or dared not go. It was an evil fate." / 2: A large image in the upper right corner shows a dirt track leading between banks of purple heather under a cloudy sky. White text below the image reads "I will take the Ring," / 3: Same format as Image 2, but the orientation is reversed, with the image in the bottom left corner and the text on top. The image shows purple mountains wreathed in cloud, and the text reads "though I do not know the way." / 4: A vertical image of Nyle Khan in the upper right corner shows him sitting back and looking at the viewer with a neutral expression, wearing the same white shirt as in Image 1. Vertical text to the left of the image reads "Baggins" in block letters and "of Bag End" in cursive. White text below the image reads "I am naked in the dark, Sam, and there is no veil between me and the wheel of fire. I begin to see it even with my waking eyes, and all else fades." //End ID]

[deluxewhump]

The Scry

Ch 14: Your High Table

Prev

CW: noncon drugging, captivity, whumpee with powers, forced to use powers, vomiting and illness, fasting, creepy comfort and carewhumping

Then began a time he forgot himself, a time he can remember only in bits and pieces. Because it was done so skillfully, so relentlessly, it took him a long time to realize on any conscious articulate level that he was being drugged.

Hazy late summer mornings, long evenings, sunlight on golden floors and a gilded Louis XVI desk, moving slowly as the eternal hands of the clock. He didn’t have his laptop anymore, or a phone. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t focus. Once, he remembered trying to find a landline in the sprawling brick house, but found only a vintage candlestick phone in an office, not in any type of working condition. He held the old round receiver to his ear, cool and silent, and closed his eyes.

He thought he heard voices on the other end, but it was just the beginning of a dream. He came back to consciousness hearing their echo. Even if the phone worked, who would he call? He couldn’t remember Max’s cell. Emergency services would take him, probably, but they would figure out what he was and give him back to Spartan. Or worse. He might be in trouble with the government now, for all he knew. Running away was certainly a breach of contract.

He looked for his phone, but guessed it was in the safe in Erik’s office the size of a vending machine, like you’d find in an old bank. The front and back doors of the house would not unlock. There was a mechanism of some kind preventing it that he could only guess was controlled by an app on Dr Holstrom’s phone or a device like a key fob. Max would’ve pointed it out as a fire hazard. For some reason that thought made him laugh. The first floor windows didn’t open, either. So curious. He didn’t have the energy to entertain breaking one. That seemed absurd, and violent. He was very tired, and mostly just testing his surroundings like one tongues at a sore spot on the roof of one’s mouth.

These ventures exhausted him to the point of delirium, and he could not scry for two days afterward. Dr Holstrom didn’t interrogate him for the reason behind this, probably because the house was full of surveillance cameras and he already knew, but tended to him until he was well enough to work again. 

The cycle was unending. Erik would bring him to his office to scry. Carlo’s senses were heightened. He could smell the bourbon on the doctor’s breath, the mechanical warm smell coming off the computer on his desk, the late summer foliage outside, ripe going to rot. He closed his eyes and listened to an old voicemail recording of Clara Holstrom, trying to focus on her voice instead of the way the magnolia leaves outside the window clicked together like the green carapaces of beetles. Clara was thirty, wherever she was, a Smith graduate with tightly curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a knowing smile, so subtle in most of her pictures it was like she was asking him what he was doing looking for her. 

Clara was hard to find. For weeks he feared she might be dead, and then what would happen to him? He’d never tried to scry anything about the dead, he didn’t know if it could be done. It was like an intricate network of telephone wires, or a web of mycelium under the earth, and he just had to pick through the threads that lit up when he touched them, a map to what it was he wanted. The dead were no longer a part of the network. Sometimes the information he sought came to him like an image, a clip of a movie, a word, a number, a phrase. Sometimes it was a strong emotion, hitting him with full force. That made him sickest. With Clara he got nothing but anger again and again. It felt almost good. Righteous. He shared it with her. But when he came back to the study with Erik Holstrom, he needed to throw up, and his head was pounding like there was an axe in it. 

Dr Holstom pushed him harder than Max during these sessions. “Once more,” he’d say, maddeningly gentle but firm. He’d place his hand on the back of Carlo’s hot neck once he was done vomiting stomach bile into a plastic bag. “Once more for me, now. I know. It’ll be over soon.” And he’d replay the cursed voicemail. He heard Clara’s voice in his dreams. 

But Dr Holstrom looked after him afterward, which was more than Martin Olsen ever did. He’d lay him on the green chaise in his study, covering him with blankets or angling a fan toward him, depending on if he was shivering or burning up. He’d give him sugary juice through a straw, pain medicine that Carlo was afraid to ask what it was but took it anyway, because it worked, and not like Tylenol.

One night Erik brought out an IV pole with a bag of clear fluid and put a needle in the back of Carlo’s hand. He’d whimpered in weak dread as his vein burned with the influx of fluid but stopped a moment later when a delicious, giddy peace washed over him. He no longer felt the throbbing pain in his head, or his churning stomach, or the anxiety of his situation. Later he would remember thanking Erik with an unbridled rush of disgust for himself, but in the moment Erik was inevitable as a god, all-powerful and luckily—by chance— merciful. Someone who cared about him when he didn’t have to. Like Max. 

“Shh,” Erik had responded to his drugged thanks, brushing his hair gently back from his forehead. “I think we are closer to her than you think. I know we are. I so appreciate you and your gift. You are an angel, do you know that? A divine tool. Providence.” Erik kissed the back of his non-IV hand and Carlo had to close his eyes to ride the next euphoric, drugged wave that flooded his every physical sensation. 

One evening he woke up and it was already dark. He stared at the clock on the bedside table for a long time, trying to understand if it was morning or evening. Finally he realized it was evening, and that’s why he could smell food cooking downstairs. It was dark because the days were getting shorter. It was autumn. How long had he been here?

He sat up, doing an inventory of his body and finding he was only a little achy, but not in pain. He felt clearer than he’d felt in weeks and weeks, and it was then he was sure he’d been being drugged. Of course he had. Well, and consistently. But how? He knew there were drugs in the IV Erik gave him when he was done scrying, but it was more than that. He’d wake up midmornings and be unable to keep his eyes open, fall back asleep til afternoon. He’d sit at the table at night and placidly fork whatever food was put in front of him into his mouth. He’d shower in cool water for twenty minutes at a time, getting lost in the way the rivulets came together and separated again on the frosted glass of the door. 

Tonight he dressed and went downstairs to dinner, but this time did not eat. When the doctor  asked him why he wouldn’t touch his food, he answered, “because I need to figure out how you’re drugging me. And because if I fast, I’ll get better results from scrying.”

Erik looked mildly perturbed rather than surprised. He set down his fork and took a sip of his white wine. “Is that so?”

“If I’m fasted, and clear headed, I can probably find her. You really haven’t been doing yourself any favors keeping me fucked up like that.”

“Mind your tongue at my table, child.”

Carlo took a sip of ice water. He was angry, and the little reprimand didn’t sting as much as it would otherwise. “If you compared notes with Martin Olsen, you’d have known that weeks ago. Or if you’d asked me before doping me up so bad I couldn’t remember where I was.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor.” Erik remained polite and composed, but Carlo could tell by now when there was a stiffness in his shoulders, irritation in his jaw. “I didn’t realize how painful your ability is for you to use. My goal was simply to keep you out of pain.”

Your goal was to incapacitate me. “I’ll be fine. I need to fast for a day or two, and then I’ll look for Clara. I don’t think she wants to be spied on. But I don’t really care at this point. If I find her, will you still hold up your end of the deal?”

Erik resumed eating, not bothered enough by Carlo’s antics to miss enjoying a meal. “Of course. I gave you my word.”

Carlo took another sip of water. His stomach growled. Good, he thought. Yes. 

[nanda-writes]

College girl sells soul to pay rent (not clickbait)

“So… your last wish is to make a deal with the devil?”

The ghostly woman nodded.

“It won't be possible, look, you need a physical body to perform this type of ritual,” said the medium “and I can't do it for you, because if I did, it would be my soul on sale.”

What if I possess you?

The spirit's voice echoed, the candles in the small clamped room in which the medium worked began to shake, transforming the trinkets scattered around the room into frightening dancing images. This could work… in theory.

“Not going to happen. Possessions are expressly prohibited on University internships. And honestly?” she added “I wouldn't endanger myself for a job that’s not even paid.”

I can pay.

The human raised one of her eyebrows. The candle flames flickered intensely, the ghost was desperate.

“Pay? Sorry, but we don't accept drachmas or whatever currency ghosts use, only cash or pix.”

She was joking, of course. What she didn't expect was the disembodied woman's response.

What's the key?

“Excuse me?”

Your pix, what is the key?

It wouldn't be possible that...?

Is ten thousand enough? Half now, half later.

It's worth a try, isn't it?

The medium shared her key. A few minutes later, she received the following message:

“Bank: Your pix has been received! Vellota ltd. sent you 5.000 reais”

Along with several confused emails by Grandma Vellota.

Looks like someone wouldn't have to worry about rent for a long time.

Kethelyn Correia — 21 years old, necromancy student at the Brazilian Federal University of Mystic Arts — is a medium in desperate need of additional hours for college and money. Kethelyn accepted the first internship that came her way without hesitating, realizing too late it was an unpaid one. Fuck it, we ball.

After months of late rent, days and nights on ramen noodles and various odd jobs to try to survive, selling a soul to the devil didn't seem like a bad idea. Anything was better than going back to her parents' house.

And that's how she ended up, three days later, on Carlos' — a college friend, master's student in demonology and ex-boyfriend — terrace at 2:30am on a Wednesday.

It was a nice evening, the sea nearby brought them a salty breeze, refreshing the warm summer night. The street lights were very close, illuminating the terrace together with the candles, revealing the unceremoniously dragged mess at the corners of the terrace. Carlos said they needed as much space as possible, the chalk circle in the middle of the terrace was the only clean space there.

“Okay, everything’s ready” said Carlos “candles lit, circles drawn, incense burning. Has she memorized the chants?”

Kethelyn nodded, they had practiced on this part together.

Carlos blew out the last match, looking around nervously. His eyes looked big behind the thick glasses he wore, his curly hair dancing with the breeze.

“Great, but seriously, this ghost couldn't have chosen a simpler invocation? Why go full catholic? There’s so many easier options…”

“Her name is Alice, I don't know about the choice for the ritual, but… thank you. Seriously. You didn't need to do all that.”

Kethelyn was being sincere. When she asked for her help, she expected at most a borrowed grimoire and some tips on how to not die.

“No problem, ha,” he replied, hands on his nape “it's the least I can do after that mistake I made.”

The “mistake” in question was the trigger for the end of their relationship. He cheated.

He cheated in a game of uno, shuffling the cards in a way that gave his friend — some 19 year old snake kid he befriended while traveling abroad — the advantage, causing Kethelyn to lose a bet.

“Ah, yes” She sighed, Alice's spirit approached floating upside down.

Hm? Share the tea, sis.

“Mind your own business.”

Rude.

“She’s here?” Carlos asked, shaking hands making the sign of the cross.

“I still can't believe that you work with literal demons, but are afraid of ghosts.” She laughed, “obviously she’s here, she's the one who's going to make the pact, duh.”

“Oh, my saint” Carlos sighed, repeating the sign “You how much of a bad idea this is, don't you?” he spoke gravely “After all, why does she want this? She's already dead!”

“It's quite a story…”

***

Alice Vellota was a young lady from a rich family, you see, her parents were rich, her grandparents were rich, her great-grandparents were rich and so on.

Alice had everything she could want, except the person she loved.

Coming from an extremely Catholic family, it is not surprising that her love for Maria Eduarda, a college friend, was a big scandal. Her parents threatened to disown her if she pursued her love, all empty threats of course. Fortunately, nothing can stop lesbians in love, not homophobic parents, not even death.

But when Maria Eduarda suddenly passed away, Alice was devastated. Her only consolation was the possibility of meeting in the afterlife. She knew Maria Eduarda would be somewhere in hell — she was a Satanist after all — she hadn't gone to heaven! But, she thought, hell is huge... how can I find her among so many people? So, she decided to solve this problem in the most logical way possible, selling her soul.

I'm already going to hell, at least I can ask to be close to her.

The plan was perfect. She home alone and everything was set, she just had to sing the chants and…

A window broke next to her and figures started to circulate around the apartment with loud wailing sounds. It was just the neighborhood kids playing football, but the scare was too much for Alice, she had a heart attack, dying before even starting the ritual.

***

“So, here's the problem. She's supposed to be in heaven now. “Kethelyn explained “technically she didn't make any pact, but the desire to join her girlfriend keeps her on this plane.”

“Why didn't you try… I don't know” Carlos shrugged “convincing her not to go to hell?”

“I tried, believe me.” Kethelyn's eyes were dead-serious “she's as stubborn as a mule.”

“Oh my saint, give me strength…”

“If everything is ready, let's begin.” The necromancer looked at Alice's ghost and signaled her to come “Get in loser, we’re summoning the devil.”

Suddenly, the coastal breeze refreshing the dawn stopped, the candle flames flickered without wind, Kethelyn bent over her stomach, the lights from the nearby street lights went mad. Carlos looked apprehensive when suddenly everything just… stopped.

The breeze, candles and the street lights returned to normal, only Kethelyn remained in the same position.

“Kethelyn? Are you okay?” Carlos asked worriedly. He was about to touch her on the shoulder when she straightened herself on a whim, her curly hair covering half her face, a smile weirdly wide creeping through her face.

“Boo” the ghost mocked him in the deep voice of the possessed, “still afraid, scaredy cat?”

Kethelyn saw everything in third perspective, she saw her mocking smile and Carlos' pale face. It was a funny feeling floating around, was that how her customers felt all the time?

She wanted to tell them both to start straight away, but she had difficulty vocalizing her thoughts, she didn't have a mouth after all. How did Alice do it? In any case, she didn't need to do anything. She saw her body go to the center of the circle, Carlos raised the barrier and sat on top of an old freezer away from the circle, she — or rather — Alice started singing the memorized chants.

As electrifying as a ritual to summon the bad thing itself may seem, it's pretty boring when you're just a spectator. Kethelyn spent the next 15 minutes bored to death — hah! — she passed her time enjoying her choice of outfit for the night, a pair of pink cargo pants and a matching tight crop top — what? You have to look stylish when you're going to meet someone famous, even if it's the devil.

Suddenly, a strong smell of sulfur filled the air and an unnatural fog began to rise inside the terrace. From within the fog lights glowed like flames.

There he was.

***

Kethelyn had a lot of expectations about the devil, but she wasn’t expecting that. A white man, bald, wearing a polo shirt and the most hideous goatee. Hadn't Lucifer been the most beautiful angel in heaven? What a glow down.

Disappointing.

The Demon stood still for a while, staring. All the corporeal beings present froze. He might have an ordinary appearance, but his aura certainly matched his fame.

“…So?” The Evil One broke the silence “What do you want, mortal?”

Kethelyn saw her body swallow hard, her hands shake. Alice finally took courage and said:

“I wan…” she hesitated “I want to have a reserved place, for me Alice Vellota and my girlfriend Maria Eduarda Almeida, in hell. A place where we can be together.”

The Fallen Angel raised an eyebrow.

“I want so that the moment this soul of mine leaves this body,” Alice kept going, more confident this time “I go straight to hell and meet her.”

Sathanas began to laugh.

“In so many centuries of work” his laugh was strondous “this is the first time I've seen someone who wants to go to hell!”

He continued laughing for a few more minutes, bending over himself and slapping his knees.

“So…” Alice was distressed “you accept the deal?”

“Ah, that, err…” Old Harry wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “No.”

“Why?!”

“Sweetheart, do you think I'm stupid?” He said in a fake-offended voice. “I know that the soul inside this body died a long time ago.”

He laughed mockingly.

“I am the devil” he stretched the last word as if he was RuPaul “having the courage to lie in the face of the father of lies?” he clapped his hands sarcastically “You’re a real one, baby.”

Kethelyn could see her shaking, Alice must have been desperate.

“To tell you the truth,” The enemy continued, looking at Alice again “your soul is worthless to me. But hers…” Kethelyn didn't have a body at the moment, but she felt her soul shiver the moment Satan made eye contact with her, grinning. “Oh, her soul is very precious”

Why did she think he wouldn't be able to see her? He was the devil!

Carlos, who was just watching, felt chills when he saw The Old One pointing into thin air, he did not need to see her to know.

The devil wanted Kethelyn.

***

The Serpent made Kethelyn and Alice switch places, the sale of a soul should not be done by third parties, and Old Nick was more than willing to buy Kethelyn's.

“Not gonna happen.” Kethelyn denied the moment she got her body back.

“Come on, dear” insisted the prince of darkness with the warm gentleness of a salesman. “There must be something you want, do you want me to help you summon more souls for your studies? I can make all the sinners in hell available to you! You want money? Fame? I can do it in the blink of an eye! I have great references, artists loved me in the 90’s. Just tell me your price.”

“Can you help me get my degree while keeping my mental health?

“Unfortunately, reality-bending miracles are my father’s department.”

“Then no,” Kethelyn was determined “I know what you want me for. I will not send innocent souls to your domain. I may work with spirits, but I still have decency.”

Beelzebub took a deep breath.

“Well, I wasn't called here for nothing.” His facade fell, the warm voice gave way to a cold, cruel tone. “Either you give up your soul, and stay alive for another nine years... or you both come with me to hell, now.”

That was the last straw. Carlos ran through the old furniture and Nick Nacks squashed on the terrace to get the holy water and his other emergency supplies. If he had to fight the devil, so be it, but he wouldn't let him take her friend.

However, before he could invade the barrier, Carlos heard a yelp:

“Wait!”

It was Kethelyn.

“Lucifer Morningstar, I challenge you to a duel!”

Carlos wanted to tear out his own eyes, Lucifer grinned.

“And what are your terms, mortal?”

“If I win, you leave me alone and fulfill Alice's wish.”

“What if you lose?”

“...You can have my soul, as long as you fulfill her wish anyway.” She looked in the direction of Alice's ghost. “I know that fulfilling her wish is no big deal for you.”

From outside the barrier, Carlos was jumping, shaking his head, making an ‘’x’ with his arms, and mouthing ‘nooooooo’'. Kethelyn might be crazy, but she wasn’t suicidal, was she?

Was she?!

Lucifer pretended to think really hard.

“Okay, I accept your terms.” he smiled “And what do you challenge me to, little girl?”

Kethelyn smirked.

“Uno.”

Carlos was banging his head on the support pole of the terrace, and Alice — if she had eyes — would have them wide open in shock. They both thought the same thing:

She wants to kill herself!

***

“I'm sorry I didn't notice you before, Carlinhos!” Lucifer patted an inconsolable Carlos on the back.

The barrier had been broken, but Lucifer could not and did not want to attack any of them until the end of the challenge.

“It’s okay, Mr. Capiroto… it’s okay” Carlos repeated defeatedly. The two had met before, college projects can take you to unusual places, huh?

“So” Lucifer looked at Kethelyn “how does this… uno thing work?”

Kethelyn and Carlos looked at each other.

If the devil doesn't know how to play uno... they have a chance!

Carlos' eyes shone. Kethelyn looked at him smugly as if she had predicted this from the beginning — although it wasn't the case.

The humans took turns explaining to the prince of hell the rules of the esteemed — and supposedly — human card game, even Alice tried to help, mentioning observations and details the couple missed.

***

The clock was already striking at 3 am when the game actually started. Carlos raised another barrier for the participants. This particular barrier prevented either of them from cheating, a necessary measure for those playing with the devil.

The house rules say that the deck must be shuffled facing away from the players by someone who is not participating. As the only corporeal being left, Carlos had to take the dealer's role.

Kethelyn and Lucifer sat at the table found by Carlos somewhere in the mess. They both held their 7 cards from the uno deck, the starting card was in the center of the table, draw deck on the side. Carlos took a coin out of his pocket to decide who would start; Heads to Lucifer, Tails to Kethelyn.

The coin was tossed. Seconds of tension dragged on like hours. The coin fell into Carlos' hand. He opened his palm:

Heads.

***

It begins, Kethelyn's cards had nothing special, just a +2 red card as a special card and a predominance of reds, leaving with only one card for each other color.

The initial card, taken from the draw deck, was a green 3.

Lucifer started his attack, immediately launching a +2 green card. Kethelyn was unfazed, launching her red +2 card, doubling the attack and reversing the damage. Kethelyn, however, did not expect Lucifer to have a trick up his sleeve, as he placed another card in the pile.

+4.

Kethelyn had no way to counterattack this time, the medium let out a frustrated sigh as she picked up her eight cards: three red, three green, one blue and a special card, a red reverse.

“Color?” asked the medium.

“Yellow.”

Kethelyn nodded and threw three cards of number 7 into the pile, the bottom one yellow, the top one red.

Lucifer had no choice but to draw and place the same color.

Kethelyn places her red reverse card — drawn from the batch she just took — and then two number 4 cards, red and green.

Lucifer draws again and soon passes.

Neither red nor green cards… maybe the advantage is coming back to me. Kethelyn thought.

Kethelyn places her card again, this time two cards numbered 0, green and red, respectively. But the card Lucifer had just drawn was also red, so he places it in the pile combined with another card, changing the game's color to blue.

The game continues with blue cards until the devil places a card numbered 2, where Kethelyn manages to change the game's color to red again. Lucifer draws, and passes. But just one round later, he uses the same trick on Kethelyn, this time changing the color to green, Kethelyn places a card, Lucifer draws and places.

It's number 1, green.

Kethelyn ponders, she has three cards at the moment, the numbers 1 and 6 in red and the number 9 in green. She could try to change the color to red, she knows that her opponent doesn't have any red cards, but it would certainly inconvenience her later. She knows that Lucifer doesn't have any green cards either, and getting rid of the green card would avoid inconvenience, so that was the most obvious option, right?

Kethelyn wasted no time, playing card 9.

Lucifer smiled demonically.

— Uno! — he exclaimed, throwing the yellow card 9 on the table.

Kethelyn wanted to bang her head on the table, how had she not realized he only had two cards? What will she do now? She doesn't have another 9 card and much less yellow cards, she doesn't know the number or color of the last card, if it isn't a special card! She can't lose this game.

I can’t… I can’t…

The necromancer's hands shook as she tried to pull the next card from the deck, so much that the entire deck slid off the table.

Carlos approached it with an intense look, he looked Kethelyn in the eyes, silently asking her to trust him. Kethelyn didn't understand, but trust she did.

Carlos picked up the cards from the floor and explained that he would have to shuffle everything again.

Wait, will he…?

The game of Uno that Kethelyn lost last time was changed after Carlos shuffled the game, he knew many card tricks, including how to manipulate a deck without looking suspicious, and would never hesitate to cheat his way to uno.

But how? The barrier would prevent…

Kethelyn realized.

Carlos was outside the barrier.

The barrier unables Kethelyn and Lucifer to cheat, but that didn't count the Croupier.

When Carlos put the deck back, Kethelyn's hands were stable, she pulled out the top card...

A +4.

Kethelyn almost cried with joy as she threw the card on the table.

Lucifer drew his cards resignedly and asked the color:

“Red.” Kethelyn felt triumphant.

Lucifer played his card and Kethelyn followed without any problems, this time she was the one shouting Uno.

She placed the red 6 card. The only card left in her hand was the red number 1.

But instead of passing, the devil placed a new card on the pile.

A yellow 6.

Kethelyn felt a growing despair. She still had a chance, but it was frustrating. She was so close…

The human pulled a card from the deck and almost cried with joy for the second time that day.

It was number 1 in yellow.

Kethelyn could hardly believe her luck.

“I won!” Kethelyn announced, throwing the letter into the pile and standing up. “I won!”

Lucifer sighed mockingly.

“It seems so” he replied, and added, narrowing his eyes “this time.”

Lucifer stood up, assuming a relaxed posture as he looked in Alice's direction.

“Are you coming or not?”

The spirit looked dazed, her form flickering like candlelight.

“Already?”

“Isn't that what you wanted? No going back now.”

“Yes, yes” Alice alternated her gaze between Lucifer and Kethelyn “I just need to do one thing first, quick.”

“You know you can't run away, right?”

“I know!” She yelled before disappearing.

Lucifer looked at Kethelyn and Carlos.

“Don't think it's over yet, kids.” He gave another devilish smile. “I have as many tricks up my sleeve as you.”

Alice returned before the humans could respond.

“Let's go!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, let's go.”

Lucifer looked at the couple one last time, and pointed his two fingers first at himself, then at them in an “I'm watching you” sign, and disappeared into the darkness.

Before Kethelyn could open her mouth, a notification.

Bank: your pix has been received! Vellota ltd. sent you R$5,000.

Carlos looked at the cellphone screen clearly impressed.

“You know,” he broke the silence. “I kind of saved your life just now, so, I don't know... you could buy me a burger? As a thank you.”

Kethelyn smirked.

“Yeah, I guess we're even now, huh? I don’t know if there’s a burger place open at this hour, how about an açaí?

“Deal.”

They laughed.

Kethelyn wouldn't have to worry about rent for a long time.

[madneedshelp]

Redemption - Josh Kiszka x FReader

Summary: After an accident leaves you on the brink of death, the images of your life flash by while you’re in this limbo state. All the moments with the best friend you never got the courage to confess to consume you at the end. Now, all you can do is beg and plead for one last chance with him. Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Description of accident, language, mentions of death, alcohol use

Note: Ok so I know this fic is just super out of pocket, the idea came to me at like 2 am during finals week when my brain was fried, but I wrote it anyway. Also, I tried to not insinuate any religious afterlife specifications just because obviously not everyone has the same beliefs, so I promise I don’t want to offend anyone. I hope you all enjoy my weird fic!

There was no way to describe the way you were feeling except as saying you felt nothing. It was almost as if you were nothing. You were in an abyss of nothingness, but in a warm and bright way. It was comforting, not terrifying.

Still, you were vaguely conscious of the fact that this was…odd. Time didn’t seem to affect you, so you weren’t sure how long it took you to remember what happened to you.

There was an accident. It had poured so heavily the day before, but you and your two friends were on a hiking trip and determined to do a trail anyway. There was a small break in the rain and both you and Josh decided you should seize your opportunity. Jake had tried to be the voice of reason, but the two of you pulled him along anyway.

You were about halfway done when it was like the skies opened up and rain swamped you all. There weren't any good options for shelter, so you pushed ahead as fast as you could. By the time you made it to the final stretch, the downpour was thick enough that you couldn’t really see and mud kept trying to take hold of your shoes, but all you had to do was make it uphill and you’d be at the parking lot.

Jake and Josh were ahead of you, just far enough to be out of reach when you slipped. The path was narrow and slick. There weren’t any trees of substantial size along the edges. The combination of all those things ended with you sliding right off the edge of the cliffside.

The last vague memory you had is the sounds of screaming and the flash of fear as you plummeted toward a boulder below.

Despite the warm place you seemed to be in, cold panic started to seep into your veins. Were you dead? You must’ve hit your head on the way down, and now you were…no, no, no, you couldn’t be. You were a year away from finishing your undergrad, you had future trips planned with friends, and you hadn’t even told your best friend that you loved him yet.

Josh. What about Josh? You couldn’t die before you got to tell him how you felt. You had so many opportunities, but you never took any of them because you didn’t want to lose him if he didn’t feel the same. Hundreds of chances, but you always banked on there being a next time. Now you might've run out.

—--8 Years Ago—--

“Josh, I swear if you don’t put that back where it belongs, I will shave your eyebrows while you sleep!” You shouted, taking a good ten steps back from the curly-haired boy.

You should’ve known better than to agree to go to the creek with Josh. He and Jake had been begging you to come down here with you for weeks, but the weather hadn’t been very warm so far. Now that it was summer break, the three of you had ventured out here.

Not that you minded the extra time with Josh. Yeah, he was your best friend, but something was different lately. Though you had never talked about the feelings with anyone before, you knew it was a crush. You really liked this boy, even if he was kind of annoying and a bit of a weirdo.

He looked between you and the newt in his hands with false innocence. “What’s wrong? It’s not gonna hurt you. Don’t you like lizards?”

You held out an arm to signal for him to stay back. “I don’t love them, and also that’s not a lizard. Now please, just put him down.”

“It’s not? Here, why don’t you take a closer look just to check.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he lunged toward you with the small creature.

You let out a small shriek and took off down the creek. He followed after you instantly while laughing maniacally.

At some point, he either dropped or let the newt go, but it turned into him just chasing you. With the threat of the best gone, your competitive streak started to come alive and you would be damned if you let him beat you. Your legs were just a bit longer than his and you were fast. However, Josh was a ball of energy and he was rapidly gaining on you in the rocky terrain.

Just as his hand closed around your arm you tripped on a slippery rock and the both of you went down with a splash. The two of you kept laughing for a minute until if faded as a silent realization fell upon both of you.

Josh had fallen to where he was on his hands and knees hovering over where you lie on your back. His face was only inches from yours.

Neither of you were sure why the other didn’t move. Whether it was due to actual feelings or simply the curiosity of 13 year old kids starting to wonder about what it would be like to kiss someone, you couldn’t tell. You were stuck with your eyes locked on each other.

Unfortunately, you never got to find out what would’ve happened. You both hesitated a moment too long and Jake’s shouting grabbed your attention. He must’ve returned from his trip back to grab some water.

“Josh! Y/N! Dad said lunch is ready!”

“Coming!” Josh shouted back, scrambling up from his position.

He offered you a hand, which you took shyly, and started to brush yourself off. Neither of you said a word as you made your way back to the grassy lawn where you left your stuff. Jake was already gone by the time you two climbed up the bank.

“Hey, uh, do you want my shirt?” Josh held up the article of clothing.

He was smart enough to have shed it before you played in the creek. Still, his question took you aback.

“What?” You felt your face warm slightly.

He seemed to get a bit more embarrassed as he explained. “Well your shirt got soaked when we fell, so I just wondered if you wanted to borrow it.”

“Oh, um, yeah thanks.” You grabbed the shirt from him with a small smile.

As soon as it was in your hand, it hit you that you’d have to take off your shirt to change. And you were pretty far from the house. And there were very few trees along the creek.

Even at 13 Josh was a good guy. His manners kicked in when it mattered. Without you asking, he swiveled to face the field away from you so you could change and made a playful remark about keeping watch, even though it was highly unlikely that anyone would turn up.

You quickly swapped out your wet t-shirt for his dry one and poked him on the shoulder. “I’m done now.”

“Great, let’s go.” He smiled at you.

He was still quiet on the walk back. Normally, you could handle a comfortable silence with Josh, but this afternoon things were different. The two of you nearly kissed in the creek, you were wearing his shirt, and now you were noticing that he smelt oddly good for a teenage boy.

You would never tell anyone how much you regretted not kissing Josh. He would’ve been your first kiss. You ended up wasting it on some boy at a school dance the following school year, and you didn’t even really like him. But how could you have kissed Josh back at the creek when you didn’t think he wanted the same thing?

—--3 Years Ago—--

“Babe, you look absolutely stunning!” Jake’s girlfriend beamed at you after she finished doing your hair.

You flushed and blew a playful kiss at her. “Stop it, you look gorgeous! I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face!”

You and her had become good friends in the time she’d been dating Jake. She’d offered to do your hair for prom if you would do her makeup, and the two of you even went dress shopping together. It was kind of refreshing considering most of the time you hung out with the twins.

“I’m more excited to see Josh’s face. Seriously, there’s no way he’s just gonna sit there all night and keep calling you his best friend. He’s got it bad for you and this is gonna break him.” She smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes at her. “Not true.” It was, though. She had figured out your crush on him a while ago, but you would never admit it.

You and Josh were going to prom together, yes, but just as friends. You broke up with your boyfriend a few weeks ago, and Josh and his girlfriend had ended things around the same time too. That left both of you single and in need of prom dates. It felt only natural to go with your best friend, especially when you’d planned on going with Jake and his girlfriend as a group anyways.

“You know I don’t believe you, but I’d rather go see the proof now, so let’s go.” She winked and pulled you out of her room and downstairs.

As expected, Jake found his girlfriend to be extremely pretty and told her so at least four times. If you hadn’t been paying attention to their goofball romance, you might’ve noticed that Josh was looking at you like you were a shooting star, bright and rare, like if he blinked he would miss you entirely.

Once you stepped over to him, he blinked and cleared his throat nervously. “You look really nice.”

“Thank you, you do too.” You smile at him, trying to keep your voice even. He really did look good. He’d done his best to tame his wild hair and he even got a vest for his suit that matched your dress.

He offered you his arm and the two of you followed behind Jake and his girlfriend to the front yard to take pictures. Everyone’s parents were present, and millions of pictures of everyone and every combination of each were taken. For the next few years you kept a picture of you and Josh from prom in your room, along with your other favorites.

After pictures and dinner, the four of you finally made it to prom and everyone scattered periodically to mingle. Jake and Josh went to talk to some of their other friends, and you and Jake’s girlfriend did the same. Eventually, you all snuck out the back and drank a bit from the flasks you snuck in and returned to repeat the cycle of talking and dancing.

Of course it wouldn’t have been prom without the cheesy slow song thrown randomly in the mix. The four of you happened to have already been on the dance floor dancing to the upbeat song previously played, so Jake and his girlfriend almost immediately switched into slow-dance-mode. That left you and Josh. You were just thinking it would be the perfect time for a drink break when Josh held out his hand.

“Dance with me?” He asked with a grin.

You returned it and nodded. “Of course.”

As the steady ballad crooned from the speakers, you and Josh drifted together. His hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, you looked like every other couple on the dancefloor.

“Crazy to think we’re already here and graduating in like a month.” He chuckled.

“Oh, don’t go getting all sappy on me now, Joshy.”

“Can’t help it, I guess this music is just getting to me. Can I be honest with you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and nodded. “Yeah?”

He chuckled under his breath for a moment before he sobered up a little. “Relax, it’s nothing bad. I’m just glad that I’m here with you.”

You felt the seriousness creep back into you then. “Me too. There’s no one I’d rather be here with.”

The thoughts you had been trying to push away for the past few months were threatening to surface. Graduation in May. Summer break in June and July. Then you’d leave for college in August. After that you’d be states away from your best friends and family.

Just tell him. Say it now while you have the courage. The small voice inside you was screaming, but there was enough of you too terrified to act. You couldn’t ruin prom and the whole summer together if things went south.

Instead, you settled for laying your head on his shoulder and mumbling “I’m going to miss you.”

—--Your 21st Birthday—--

Nashville was a fun place to celebrate your 21st birthday. Since you didn’t get to see your friends often, the three of you splurged on the event and decided to take a trip. While you had all been drinking way before it was legal, being able to go bar hopping was still exciting.

Needless to say, you were all drunk and having a blast. You’d spent the earlier part of the day sightseeing and exploring the city, but tonight was the real reason for the trip.

At the last minute, you invited your college roommate out of nerves. You had gotten lucky to have been matched with Katie, she was now a close friend of yours. That’s why you asked her to come. You hadn’t seen Josh since your last break from school and you were more than a little nervous. You kept in touch over the phone, but in person was different. You were still in love with him, despite the fact that you’d tried to fall for other people, so you brought Katie in case you freaked.

Unfortunately, you forgot about Katie’s weakness for long-haired men and Jake’s tendency to be a bit of a hoe (which you meant completely lovingly). The moment Jake started tipsy-flirting with her, her buzzed self folded. They had been talking for a good part of the night.

However, things between you and Josh were good. You two were cool. You were friendly for the whole day, and now that you were on the drinking portion of the trip, your crush was scaring you less and less. It was definitely the liquid courage in your veins.

It was the dancing at a club that took you all out. The alcohol finally developed its depressant effect and tiredness was beginning to seep over all of you. Thankfully, the Air BnB you rented wasn’t far and you all were able to walk back home safely.

Katie and Jake were dangerously close to making out on the couch once you’d returned, so you and Josh escaped to the balcony. The night air was chilly and the two of you snuggled close to keep warm.

“This is nice.” You murmured, a dreamy smile on your face.

“What is?” Josh mumbled.

“You being here. With me.”

“Hmm I like being with you too, baby.” He hummed happily.

You snuggled into his side. “I love you, Joshy. I wish you were with me all the time.”

He wrapped his arm tighter around you. “I love you too. You’re my best friend, just don’t tell Jake.”

Even in your inebriated state, his words hit you. Best friend. Nothing more. You suddenly felt less buzzed and giggly. You were starting to remember that you were just a girl who had loved her best friend since she was 13 and he didn’t see you as anything else.

Except that he did. You didn’t know it, but he loved you so much. He wanted to tell you that too, but you looked so sad when he said it back that he got too scared to say more.

The trip ended two days later and you all went your separate ways, no closer to the closure that you so desperately wanted from him.

—--Now—--

You wanted to kick yourself as your life flashed past you. So many chances with Josh. Now he would never know that you loved him and you would never know if he loved you.

This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t end like this.

Please.

Anything.

I’ll do anything for one more shot.

I’ll be brave this time.

I’ll make it count.

Please.

“Y/N?”

It was fuzzy, like you were underwater, but you definitely could hear it.

“Can you hear me?”

You couldn’t quite form the words, but you could hear more clearly now. There was a woman speaking.

“Can you hear us?” Another woman spoke.

This time you formed a hum that you hoped was audible enough to be taken as a ‘yes’.

“Do you think you can open your eyes for me?” The woman asked.

Everything was so heavy, but you tried so so hard. You felt someone brush your arm lightly, and realized you could feel it. You could hear and feel and holy shit that meant you weren’t dead. That was the little push you needed to open your eyes.

You were in what was definitely a hospital room and two women in scrubs were watching you carefully.

“Glad to have you with us, Y/N.” The older one smiled. “I’m Dr. Jones and we heard you stirring a couple minutes ago. You’ve had a lot of people pretty worried.”

“Where…” Your voice was thick and raspy, but after a moment it came back enough. “Where are they?”

The nurse answered as she was checking your vitals. “One of the two boys that brought you in went to the cafeteria a few minutes ago. They said your family was on their way. You’ve been out for almost two days.”

That thought made you nauseous, but then your mind went back to her first words. “Josh?”

The nurse smiled at you. “Yes, I believe that’s him.”

“Y/N?”

You looked over at the doorway to be met with the sight of Josh. He looked exhausted. His eyes were rimmed in dark circles and he just looked…sad. But he was your Josh and it was the best sight you’d ever seen for that reason.

“Looks like you’re stable and doing well, so we’ll give you two a moment. Just take it easy.” Dr. Jones said before stepping out of the room with your nurse.

Josh was at your side in an instant, tears in his eyes. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. We should never have went out there. They didn’t know if you were going to make it. We were so scared. I was so scared. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You placed your hand gently on his arm and shook your head. “It’s not your fault. I made the choice to go. It was just an accident.”

“An accident on the trip I planned. On the hike I suggested. Baby, I’m so sorry.” The tears were falling down his face now.

You slowly lifted a hand to his face. “You didn’t do this, Josh. You actually saved me.”

“No I didn’t. Jake’s the one that carried you in. I…I was too hysterical, I couldn’t calm down.”

“No, not that. I kept seeing you. I had to get back to you. I think that’s what brought me back.” You smiled.

“What?” He wiped at his eyes.

“I couldn’t go, Josh. Not without telling you that I love you. I’ve been in love with you for so many years, and I know this isn’t a great time to say it, but I’m too scared to wait for something else to happen.”

“You mean that?” He croaked.

“I mean it. I love you.”

A fresh wave of tears slid down his cheeks. “God, I should’ve told you sooner. I love you too. I love you so much, and I never want to lose you. I need you.”

This time you took your chance. You pressed a light kiss to his lips and he leaned into it. Sure, you wished the circumstances were different and you could really kiss him, but you would absolutely take this moment over the alternative.

You would spend the rest of your life making the most of your second chance.

[jacelandon]

Character Profile: Jace Landon

The Basics –––

Full Name: Jace Elios Landon

Age: Mid 20′s human equivalent

Birthday: February 2nd

Sign: Aquarius

Race: Half-elf (Quel'dorei & Human - more prominent)

Gender:  Male

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance –––

Hair:  Varies quite a bit! Sometimes short, sometimes longer, naturally brown but changes that up on occasion too. Slightly curly, usually messy.

Eyes:  Deep blue with a very faint elven glow

Height: 6′0"

Build: Slender but toned

Distinguishing Marks: Ears are slightly elongated and have a small point to them, calluses on his fingertips

Scars:  Has a few long, thin scars on his biceps and forearms. Has a few old self-harm scars on his inner thighs.

Tattoos:  Music staff w/notes on the top of both middle fingers, tree sound waves on his inner right forearm, Darkmoon Faire symbol on his left pec, violin on his inner left forearm, and 'musical DNA' running down his spine (See below images).

Piercings: Earlobes twice, but typically doesn't wear earrings unless it's a part of his performance outfit.

Common Accessories: His fiddle, a hat of some variety (used for busking), a pair of daggers in his boots, an evil eye necklace

Likeness: Tom Blyth

Personal Information –––

Profession: Musician at the Darkmoon Faire. His main instrument is the fiddle/violin, but he also plays piano, banjo, drums, guitar, accordion, harmonica, and sings as well. He's a musical prodigy and finds it easy to pick up instruments on a whim! When not performing, he acts as one of Silas Darkmoon's private investigators. He'll also take the occasional freelance PI contract if he has time and needs the money. Hobbies:  Playing music, writing music, learning new instruments, photography, painting, traveling, gambling, busking Languages:   Fluent in Common, Orcish, ASL, and Gnomish - knows a mishmash of many other languages as well Currently Living:  He has a private wagon with the Darkmoon Faire, but also rents a small apartment in Stormwind. Birthplace:  Dalaran Religion:  None Fears:  Abandonment, hearing loss, losing his found family, getting on the wrong side of Silas Darkmoon Personality:  Jace had always been too much of a free spirit to follow in the footsteps of his adoptive parent's profession. Banking was too boring and it never clicked with his creative mind despite their best efforts, and they often butted heads over it. As a child he was a musical prodigy and continues to be to this day; the man lives and breathes music and it has become a central part of his life. There are some rumors circling the fairgrounds that he did a deal with the Old Gods in order to be able to play like he does, but if you ask him he'll just smirk.

Once a shy introvert, music was able to bring him out of his shell and these days he's brimming with charm, confidence, and showmanship. He absolutely loves carrying on deep conversations with anyone he finds interesting, small talk does absolutely nothing for him. He's kind and compassionate when he needs to be, even if he does have a bit of a dark side to him. He can be a mystery, but that just helps him to fit in even more with the majority who work for the Faire. However, if you're not part of the DMF family, he's got no loyalty to you, nor will he feel the need to always be honest with you. Trust takes time and effort to earn.

Relationships –––

Biological Mother: Known Sin'dorei, but has yet to meet her

Biological Father: Unknown Human

Adoptive Mother & Father: Brynn and Aiden Landon - Both humans (now deceased) that lived and worked in Stormwind as bankers.

Siblings:  None

Spouse: Never married

Children: None that he knows about!

Other Family: His Darkmoon Faire kin

Pets: None

Sex & Romance –––

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Preferred Role: Dominant | Submissive | Switch

Preferred Position: Bottom | Top | Vers

Turn ons:  Free spiritedness, open mindedness, the musically inclined, confidence, a sense of adventure

Turn offs: Complainers, insecurity, indecisiveness, lack of ambition, the tone-deaf

Love Language: Words of affirmation

Relationship Tendencies: Not seeking anything serious, but happy for one-nighters, flings, and friends with benefits!

Art by Azperja

Traits –––

Bold your character’s answer

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional Information –––

Smoking Habit: Occasionally

Drugs:  Socially

Alcohol: Often

RP Hooks –––

DARKMOON FAIRE He's been a musician with the Darkmoon Faire for well over a decade now. Started as a backup band member, but has proven his musicianship and will occasionally be found on the mainstage being a one-man band or guest staring in a variety of groups on a variety of instruments - vocals included. He's best known for his fiddle/violin playing, and with the ease he's able to swap between the more freeform style of fiddle playing and the more classical stylings of violin playing - sometimes mashing the two up!

STORMWIND He rents a small loft in Stormwind City that he'll stay at on occasion when he's busking in the streets or when he's working on PI business.

BUSKING He can be found at any given time around various Alliance or Neutral cities busking with a variety of instruments!

Looking For –––

~Friends, frenemies, enemies, lovers, ex-lovers, pre-established relationships ~Any type of RP whether it be happy or dark, storyline or slice of life! He is not my main but I love to headcanon and do discord RP on occasion.

Contact –––

~Feel free to approach me on any platform IC or OoC! ~Here on tumblr through asks/submits, or through messages.  ~Also feel free to add me on Discord: dicenne ~In-game names, Alliance side: (Moon Guard - Jaayce, WrA - TBD) ~Follows will come from @turning-through-the-never

[krtart]

Art Fight 2023 | 05 - Twilight Meeting

Oscar is going to be so sad that he slept through this encounter, but Lilly wouldn't want to risk scaring Vahi away.

.

An attack on @ausp-ice featuring their esk character Vahi! (As well as my own characters Oscar and Lilly. ^_^)

Revenge Chain: (1: You are here) | (2) | (3) | (4)

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[Image description: On the bank of a mountain lake lit by the last light of sunset, a small rat looks up at a floating ethereal spirit as an old man dozes nearby with a book resting on his stomach. The nature spirit is an esk, Vahi, with glowing white eyes, two front legs and no rear legs despite a quadrupedal body plan, horns, flowers and ferns growing from their body and floating around them, and a long tail with the appearance of a dark night sky with moonlit clouds. The rat is Lilly, a fae familiar. The man is Oscar, a fat white man with dwarfism, a receding hairline, and a long beard that joins with his curly hair to form a wild ginger mane. End ID.]

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Several panels from Trigun Maximum. In the first, an image of Knives' sleeping face is overlaid on an image of a bank of plants in the same chamber as thousands of cold sleep pods. The second panel is dark and indiscernible aside from a few vague glitters of light, while the third seems to be showing a bank of glowing computer screens. Overlaid on the bottom corner of the third panel is a single small panel showing a flat of light.

The next panel, from a couple of pages later, shows Rem running, her expression frantic as she shouts, "It looks like there's an error in the fleet's piloting system! You two stay in your rooms and buckle yourselves in!" The second panel on this page shows the young Knives looking anxious, wide-eyed and visibly sweating. The next panel shows what seem to be more computer screens. End ID.]

...I wonder what the implication of that panel is that connects the sleeping Knives to the ship's plants? Within the manga, Knives has recently shown himself able to sense other plants and their condition over long distances. It's not shown that Vash can't do this, but we only really see him interacting/communing with plants when he's either touching them or at least has line of sight on them. What if Knives was able to sense/commune with the other plants on the ship, he just wasn't fully aware that he was doing it? He's asleep when this happens, after all. I don't think, at this early juncture, that he was trying to crash the ship, or that he wanted to hurt anyone, but what if simply communicating with the plants distracted them from their jobs? After all, some comments from the SEEDS crew suggest that the plants weren't just generating matter for them...

[ID: a panel from Trigun Maximum. It shows one of the crew members, a young woman with dark skin and curly black hair, drinking something from a cup as she says, "A delay in rebooting the neural network doesn't explain the thrusters' response lag?" End ID.]

Neural network. The plants may well have been functioning as a supercomputer, working together--which means that just distracting their attention could cause problems, no malice necessary. This has some fascinating implications for humanity's technological progress, but also speaks to a certain arrogance--plants are intelligent enough to be used as supercomputers, but they're not computers, they're living things...

[thehazbins]

About: Luxury

Nicknames: Lux

Race: Fallen Angel

Pronouns: Any

Sexuality: Pansexual, Panromantic

Default Appearance: Androgynous, longer wavy or curly silvery hair, darker dusty pink skin, freckles. (Full Image)

Personality: Charming, Flirtatious, Explicit

Backstory: (CW for Sexual Content, Prostitution ) Luxury wasn't always called that, they had another name once. What it was doesn't really matter. They'll tell you that. They were an angel once, but that life is long gone. They feel they are better for it of course.

Once they were high ranking, among the top angels in their time in heaven. Trusted, reliable, good, obedient... they were nearly perfect. Except deep down they were curious. They wondered what certain things were about, why things were the way they were.

What sex felt like.

...Not something an angel was supposed to wonder.

They did though, they were curious and they listened to humans, they kept an ear and an eye out. They were smart, kept their wonderings quiet.

Until they didn't. They were visiting earth once and they were not supposed to be there but they got caught. The human found them beautiful and started flirting. Luxury flirted back.

Luxury did more than flirt. When the human touch their hand they blushed- they leaned into it. When the human touched their lips with theirs, they reveled in it. When the human touched else where, they thrived.

They didn't fall instantly, no- a single curiosity like that wasn't punishable if no one knew. It was the doubts that followed that began to wear away.

Slowly they felt themselves doubting more and more about heaven. More and more about the higher forces. So they kept wondering and kept wondering. They had a few more mortal dalliances before confronting one of the leaders. They asked why they followed the rules so strictly. They asked so many whys... the one that really drove home how much they didn't fit was a simple enough question. "Why does sex feel so good if we, angels, shouldn't want it?"

They were cast out and fell.

In hell, they began to thrive. They took on the name Luxury because they were a luxury that few could afford in hell. Back home they were a dime a dozen. Now though, they were special. And they took that and ran.

Pleased to find their shapeshifting abilities thoroughly intact and perhaps even stronger, they began to use it to their advantage. First they were making bank when it came to having sex for money. It worked out well for them but when video became a thing in Hell... oh they were thrilled. They quickly became a well known porn name.

They thrived in stardom, but after a while they let themselves fade out. Intentionally.

So now, Angel Dust is the big name. Valentino seems to be the big name in where to go for porn. But Luxury is planning slowly to come back. They made such a name, all they'll have to do is announce their return and the market will be theirs.

Right?

A Note: Lux fell over 8,000 years ago. Possibly closer to 9,000 I'm not sure of the exacts but neither are they. They're as old as heaven. There is also a lot more to their story. This is the vibe they give off. They have some more potent moments in their actual bio that haven't been revealed at all yet.

[ded-and-gonne]

[bumblebeetlebee]

Maiden | 3/3

[ Image ID: The picture shows the queens forest at twilight. Many different versions of The Maiden, Changeling, and Angel of Justice wander through it, all connected with red string.

The bottom of the picture is underwater in the river. The Rusalka floats in the river holding Margaret. She has blue skin, thick stylized eyelashes, and long black hair that billows around her. Her head is severed and floats above her neck. She is screaming. In her arms Margaret is unconscious, her eyes closed and mouth open. Margaret has dark brown skin and long curly black hair that floats behind her. She is wearing a frilly green dress. Written in white next to them is: “You’ve heard this story before.” A red string flows from the words and around the characters.

At the bank of the river Travis (as William) and Margaret, from their married days, hold each other. Margaret is kneeling over Travis with a hand holding his cheek; She is smiling at him with their noses touching. Margaret is wearing a white backless dress, her hair loosely tied to the side, and she is covered in flowers and vines. Travis is leaned back on his hands. He is wearing a green coat and light yellow pants. He is also covered in flowers. They are smiling at each other. The red string comes from the left of the page and wraps around them before continuing backwards.

Further back in the forest bending and tree is the old Maiden and Changeling. The Changeling is leaning out from behind the tree. He has light skin, long black hair, and white eyes. He is wearing a gray shirt and brown pants, both of which are covered in vines and flowers. Peeking out from behind him is The Maiden. She has short brown hair, black eyes, and brown skin. She is wearing a green jumpsuit with bark around her calves. She is similarly covered in flowers. She is grinning up at The Changeling who gives her a slight smile in return. The red string is wrapped around The Maiden’s hair.

Emerging from the tree above them to gently hold The Maiden’s hair is the arm of The Angel of Justice. She has tanned skin that is broken up with black and white feathers, getting more concentrated closer to her elbow. One black and white eye is on her forearm and it is looking at The Maiden. The red string wraps up her wrist and falls to the other side of her arm.

Sitting with her back to the tree line is Margaret from her time as a black lily. Her hair is loose and she wears a gray sleeveless dress with a white blouse. She is holding a letter and looking upwards. A tattoo of a black lily is visible on her neck. The red string goes across her arm and lap before crossing over her shoulder.

Behind two trees in the background is Travis and Gable, in their present day appearances. They are walking with their pinkies linked together. Travis wears a green jacket with brown trim, brown pants, and a white shirt with a cravat. He is looking back at Gable. Gable is a very tall person with silver hair in a bun and with an undercut. They wear a purple coat and an unbuttoned white shirt. They are looking at Travis. The red string is wrapped around their interlocked fingers.

To the left of Travis and Gable is Gable’s sword stabbed into the ground it glows a soft yellow and a fire burns at its base. The red string loops around its hilt.

Hidden in the trees above Travis and Gable is the face of The Forest queen. She has brown bark-like skin and green hair that blends into the leaves. The red string brushes across her hair.

The sky is a blend of of purple and gray clouds and two feathers float at the very top. One feather is Uriel’s; it is made of fire. The other belongs to the prior Angel of Justice. It is black and white with three eyes. The red string is tied between the two feathers. End ID]

[voraciousvore]

Big Corp Inc. (21/43)

***This chapter contains vore!***

Chapter 21: Bucky's Belly

“Where would you like to eat?” Martin inquired. 

“I don’t know any of the restaurants around here. You choose,” Candy requested. 

“Well… there’s a new restaurant that just opened up downtown that I haven’t tried yet. I can’t guarantee that the food will be any good, but I figured we could try a new experience together,” Martin suggested with a smile. 

“That sounds good. I’m willing to give it a shot.” Candy rubbed his palm with her hand. Martin’s heart warmed at her light touch. He curled his fingers around her, holding her closer to his torso. She leaned into his warm body and sighed. Even with all her terrible troubles piled up on her, somehow Martin made her feel at peace, calming the turmoil within her. 

As the Giant left the banking district and wended his way towards the shops and restaurants of the more leisurely section of the city, the sun started to dip nearer to the horizon, bathing the Giant city in glowing orange light. The sky reflected the image of a sea, with swirling, golden clouds cresting like sea foam. The bright yellow sun swam through the shining clouds and gradually sank into the darkness of the earth, like the depths of the ocean, dimming to orange and red before snuffing out. Candy was happy to be able to share the natural beauty of the scene with Martin. The air had the pleasant cool of evening, overlaid with a light breeze. 

The downtown scene was pretty lively. Candy felt nervous and small, being surrounded by crowds of Giants, some of them rowdy and drunk. Despite this feeling, she trusted Martin to keep her safe in his huge hands. There were lots of clubs and bars with bright lights blasting loud music and advertising fancy alcoholic beverages. The smell of chicken wings and burgers filled the air from various restaurants. With Candy up against Martin’s body, she could hear his cavernous belly rumbling in response. 

“Sorry, Candy, it’s been a while since I’ve been out and about here. I forgot how crazy it can get on Friday nights,” Martin apologized. “This isn’t really my scene… I’m a bit too socially awkward for this sort of thing…”

“Aww, it’s okay Martin,” Candy shouted up at him. She had to raise her voice to be heard. She looked around. “Where’s this restaurant at?” 

“Right over there.” Martin pointed to an establishment with a patio area and outdoor tables under an overhang. Huge, stylized letters illuminated with bright neon red spelled “Bucky’s” over the entryway. Martin waited for the seating hostess to arrive. After a minute, she hustled over, hands full of silverware and menus, wearing a bright red dress with a white apron. She had curly auburn hair and long, slender limbs. 

“Welcome to Bucky’s! Would you like to sit at a table, or at the bar?” she asked, slightly out of breath. 

Martin glanced over at the crowded bar, which was brimming with boisterous Giants. “We’ll take a table.” 

“We...?” She finally noticed Candy, and her demeanor changed. She became very excited and animated. “Oh, a human! Did you see one of our job ads? Are you here to apply?” 

“That’s... no?” Candy replied, flustered. She hadn’t expected this development. 

The seating hostess gestured for Martin to follow her. “Well, you should consider it. This is a great place to work! We’re desperate to hire humans right now, but we haven’t attracted any yet! In fact, I can set you up with an interview with the restaurant owner, right now!” She guided Martin over to a table, dropping a bundle of silverware and a menu in front of him. Without waiting for a response, she proclaimed, “I’ll go grab Bucky for you right away!” She rushed off. Martin and Candy stared after her, at a loss for words. 

The pair hardly had time to process what was going on before a portly, perspiring Giant with a round, sanguine face, thinning blond hair, and a mustache ran over to their table. He wore the male equivalent of the garish restaurant uniform, with a red shirt and white pants. “You want to work here?” he questioned Candy gruffly as he wiped his sweaty forehead on his sleeve. 

“Um... ah...” Candy sputtered. “I wasn’t planning on it... I mean, I already have a job...” 

The manager leaned over her. “We can pay you in Small Stacks. I’m aware that other Giant businesses don’t do that yet. What do you think? I can at least give you a tour and show you the kitchen.” 

Candy was unsure, but the promise of being paid in money she could actually use was alluring. “Well... maybe...” 

“Great!” Bucky announced. Without warning, he grabbed Candy in his fat sausage fingers. She let out a yelp of shock as he carried her away into a swinging door marked “Employees Only,” with the seating hostess and a few waitresses following behind him with unnatural interest. Martin was too stunned to react. He blinked a few times, tapped the table with his fingers, and looked around the restaurant apprehensively. Something about the whole interaction felt suspicious. He didn’t feel right about this place. Alarm bells were going off in his head, but he couldn’t consciously place why. 

Candy found herself in a Giant kitchen, surrounded by Giants, hot steam, cacophonous clattering and sizzling, and the varied smells of food cooking. Bucky was yelling things to her, introducing some of the greasy cooks and waitresses and talking about the kinds of food the restaurant served, but Candy was too disoriented to take in what he was saying. 

“Now time for your interview,” the heavyset, ruddy Giant shouted at her, throwing her on a metal countertop. He grabbed a gigantic plate and set it down next to her with a loud clink. He followed it up with two thick slices of toasted rye bread, lettuce, tomato, onion, and cheese, which he hastily slapped together. Candy watched with increasing anxiety. She took a few steps back. 

“You know, I think I changed my mind...” she uttered, but she didn’t get a chance to run before she was splatted in the face and down her body with mustard. “Ugh!” she cried, wiping the mustard off her face with her hands. The Giant snatched her up and flung her into the sandwich, tossing the other slice of bread on top of her and clamping his massive chubby hands down on either side so she couldn’t escape. 

“Stop!” Candy screeched in terror. “What are you doing?” 

“If you’re going to be one of our entrées, I have to do a taste test to see if your flavor is compatible with our food,” the Giant explained, grinning. He licked saliva off his lips. The other employees who had been following him around the kitchen and knew what was coming watched with fascination. “I have a feeling you’ll be a huge hit with our customers!” Candy screamed in protest and wriggled, but she was clamped down in the sandwich and could only watch in terror as the Giant’s mouth yawned open in front of her. She was greeted by a dripping red maw full of craggy yellow teeth, a thick meaty tongue, and a wide dark gullet eager to swallow her. A gust of foul warm breath hit her face and she almost gagged. 

“Hold on!” one of the employees exclaimed. “You forgot to give her a pill to take. She won’t survive your stomach.” 

Bucky shrugged his thick mountainous shoulders. “Oh well. Obviously, she doesn’t want to work here anyways.” The Giant was too ravenous to hold himself back any longer. He opened his enormous mouth wide and shoved the sandwich inside, taking a prodigious bite around Candy’s tiny body. Candy cried out in fear as she was enveloped in humid darkness, the formidable teeth crunching down into the sandwich all around her. Mercifully, none of her limbs were severed. The sandwich around her was demolished by the teeth, and she struggled to stay away from their crushing force as she was jostled about by the chewing motion of the Giant’s jaws. He gulped the mush down, and Candy thrashed back in horror as she watched the masticated sandwich get sucked down into the void below, with the knowledge that she would soon disappear down the gullet as well. She imagined she could almost hear the gurgling gastric juices echoing from far below, calling for her to fall in. The Giant rolled her around on his tongue a bit, slurping off the mustard and tasting her. 

“Wow!” his voice thundered all around her, rising from his huge larynx in his throat. “She tastes like caramel! I’ve never tasted a human so sweet! What a shame, that she doesn’t want to work here.” His mouth filled up with drool in response to her flavor, and Candy found herself fully soaked in a river of smelly saliva. 

From outside, one of the Giant cooks sniggered, “She’ll meet a fitting end, with the illustrious honor of winding up in Bucky’s belly!” His joke was met with several chuckles. The boss’s propensity for gluttony, especially when humans were involved, was notorious. It was the reason he had opened a restaurant centered around gobbling up humans in the first place, after all. Bucky belted out a hearty laugh himself, with his mouth still full, and slurped the human toward the back of his mouth. 

“Martin! Help!” Candy wailed uselessly as she slid down the curve of the Giant’s massive tongue into the entrance to his throat. She tried to latch on to a huge molar, or anything to arrest her fall, but the inside of his mouth was smooth and slick, and her hands weren’t able to grip anything. The throat muscles closed around her legs as the Giant swallowed her, and she was plunged down the long tube to his stomach. 

While this spectacle was playing out in the kitchen, Martin waited impatiently at the table. He couldn’t shake his instinctive feeling that something was wrong. To distract himself, he opened up the menu and took a peek inside. His face went deathly pale. Advertised front and center, with a big “Coming Soon!” label, was a prominent picture of a smiling human woman in a seductive pose sitting on a mountain of oversized chicken wings, smothered in buffalo sauce. Martin jumped up so fast his knees hit the bottom of the table, rattling the cutlery. He raced into the door where they had taken Candy, not heeding the sign, into the kitchen. 

Martin dodged restaurant employees who tried to stop him as he scoured the kitchen for Candy. He saw a crowd of Giants and made a beeline for them. His worst suspicions were confirmed when he saw the restaurant owner holding a sandwich with a big, foreboding bite taken out of it. Without hesitation, he plowed through the gathering of red and white and smashed his fist into Bucky’s midsection, hoping desperately he wasn’t too late. Bucky doubled over with a groan. The other employees cursed and shouted with surprise, though they weren’t entirely unhappy with seeing their unsavory boss get punched in the gut. 

Bucky coughed and gagged, and to Martin’s relief spat up a shivering Candy, who immediately curled up into a ball upon hitting the floor, making herself as small as possible. Martin snatched her up in his hands, clutched her to his chest, and sprinted away in a panic. On his way out, he had just enough clarity of thought to grab a handful of paper napkins. He ran until he was certain nobody was following him after causing such a commotion. Breathing hard, heart pounding, he ducked into a secluded area and opened his hand to check on Candy. She was still shaking and seized up into a tiny ball. He touched her with his finger and she cringed away instinctively. Martin’s heart broke at the sight. 

“Candy, are you okay?” he asked her softly. 

“M-martin?” Candy whispered. She looked up at him, eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Martin! Thank the stars you were there! The manager ate me… I thought I was going to die...” 

“I’m so sorry, Candy,” Martin expressed with regret. “If I had known, I would have never taken you there! I didn’t mean to put you in danger.” He felt terrible. Yet again, he had nearly gotten Candy killed. At least this time he hadn’t been the one to ingest her. He did his best to dry her off with the napkins he brought, but the unpleasant odor of the inside of Bucky’s mouth remained on her. Martin wondered if Candy would be better off without him. With a Giant, dumb oaf like him taking her around to dangerous places, Candy was at constant risk, and that was unacceptable to him. 

“Please, just take me home, Martin,” Candy requested. “I’ve lost my appetite.” 

Chapter 22

Chapter 1

[peterpparkerwrites]

good looking

a/n: this is the last of the one-shots I’ll be posting on here :) on to the series! just a reminder there are more on my wattpad, I just didn’t want to flood all of them on here especially because some of them are pretty old (like 2017 so just old to me maybe lol). if you do want to read them the link to my wattpad is on my page! warnings: language, potential no way home spoilers (basically my interpretations based on the trailers), lot of back and forth between memories/current, overkill on the vine and tiktok references I’m not sorry pairing: peter parker x reader (but mostly spider-man x reader tbh) word count: 7k summary: spider-man landed on your balcony once and the rest is history (said every peter fic ever)

masterlist ~ requests are closed!

~

"Peter Parker is Spider-Man."

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your tote bag as you stared up at the screens in Times Square.

Peter Parker. It must've been a yearbook picture or something they used, because it wasn't a candid. He was smiling at the camera, and it almost looked a little forced. Your eyes focused on the bottom half of his face before moving to his nose, his curly brown hair, and finally his eyes.

Shit.

It could've been a lie. It could have been an awful prank, or misinformation, but you knew as soon as you saw this boy's face that he was your Spider-Man.

The realization hit you like a brick, and you suddenly wished you hadn't seen it. Because this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. You were supposed to find out when he was ready to tell you. You were supposed to do it on your own time, not like this.

You didn't stop to stare long, no matter how much you wanted to. This was a moment you had thought about ever since Spider-Man first landed on your balcony, ever since you first patched him up, ever since you became friends. Ever since he kissed you.

But this wasn't fair to him. Or you, but you couldn't think about yourself right now. Peter was probably losing his mind about his identity being revealed.

Peter.

You had to force yourself to focus on getting home, not getting lost in the idea of finally having a name for the boy you had been in love with for months. Even if it was perfect. And he was perfect. And better looking than you could have imagined.

Nope. You had to get home.

-

Spider-Man landed on your balcony for no apparent reason in the middle of a snow storm in December. You remember seeing a red and blue figure suddenly appear on your railing, and feeling the slight shudder as it happened.

It was freezing outside. What the hell was a superhero doing on your balcony this time of night?

He whipped around before you had the window fully open. "Uh, hello! Sorry if I woke you up."

"You didn't," you glanced at the way he was curled up into himself, his arms tucked underneath his armpits and his knees to his chest. "I was reading. Our heater is having issues and I don't think I could sleep until it comes back on."

"My heater broke, too," he admitted, and you laughed. You figured he was making some kind of joke, but then you paused.

"Wait, does that thing have a heater? That is so awesome!"

"Well, it would've been more awesome if it worked," he visibly shuddered, and you suddenly felt bad.

"Hey, I made some hot chocolate earlier," you said almost shyly, "Do...do you want to come inside and warm up for a little?"

"I-" he paused, "I mean, are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course. You've saved my life before, this is a really minuscule way to say thank you."

"I have?" He perked up, and you waved him inside before answering.

You told him how he saved you while you got a towel and a hot cup for him before sneaking back to your room.

"I was in a bank robbery," you almost shuddered at the memory as you passed him a cup of the hot chocolate. It was hard not to laugh at the image in front of you - Spider-Man sitting on your fluffy rug, a towel around him, holding a cup. Not how you imagined your night to go.

"You came in before the bankers really had a plan set. Everything went crazy, and they started shooting, and it became a panic."

"And I pulled you out of the bank first," he finished, and you looked up at him in surprise. "I remember...you tried to argue with me about your friend. You told me I was stupid for pulling you out first."

"Well, I couldn't abandon her," you tried to justify your actions, but you knew that it had been a stupid move. "But you were right, and I'm sorry I called you stupid. And you managed to save us both anyway, so I guess I was just frantic."

"Well, you were in the middle of a robbery with guns," he said softly, "It's bound to make anyone freak out."

You smiled a little, "Not you, though."

"Oh, I freak out all the time. Usually just after the fact."

You snorted, "Fair. Either way, thank you. I might not be here if it wasn't for you."

"Of course. It's my job."

"No, it's not your job. You do it because you're a good person. So seriously, thank you."

"Well...you're welcome." He finally moved his hands to lift his mask, and you didn't look at him as he did so. You weren't sure if he meant to have you catch a glimpse at the bottom half of his face, so you waited to see if he would say anything about it.

"This...is the best hot chocolate I've ever had."

You smiled widely, "Really? I tried a new recipe. Mexican hot chocolate, my cousins suggested it."

"I wish they sold this in stores," he took another drink. "This is perfect."

"Well, come back for some whenever you want," you said before thinking, and then scrambled to keep talking, "I mean, if you want to. I'll probably make it every day just to get through the winter. It's been unusually cold."

"I...I might take you up on that," you couldn't help but grin at his agreement, even if he did sound hesitant.

And he did.

-

You threw your bag on your bed, holding your phone in your hands and feeling tempted to throw it out the window.

Texts were flooding in. Of course they were - all everyone talked about was the heroes of New York. Spider-Man's identity being revealed was probably the biggest thing to happen since the alien invasion.

You forced yourself to read the messages, trying not to feel ill.

akira : there's no way in hell spider-man killed someone. i refuse to believe it. this is why i hate the media 😤

charlotte: idk...i mean they literally showed the footage...😃

akira: nah. i don't buy it. anyway, spider-man is hella hot 👀💀

mihika: AKIRA! HE MURDERED SOMEONE! HE CAN'T BE HOT! 🧍🏽‍♀️

akira: come on. spider-man saved y/n and i, remember? why would he just randomly kill this dude who we never heard of. you guys are whack. speaking of y/n, what are your thoughts on this babes?

You almost locked your phone, not having the stomach to reply right now. People thought Spider-Man killed someone? You didn't see that on the billboards, probably because you weren't paying attention until they showed his identity.

Now you had to look it up. Seeing Spider-Man's face, his actual face, made you heart skip a beat as you tried to find a genuine article on what happened.

None of this made sense. You could see it clearly in the video - Spider-Man ordering a drone strike. But you knew Spider-Man, maybe better than most people. He would never, ever do this.

So you sent a reply to your friends saying you agreed with Akira but didn't think there was any point in talking about it further, then got up and opened your window. It would be wishful thinking to think your boyfriend would show up today, but maybe he could.

Although, he was likely already taken into custody for a crime you know he didn't do. You looked at your phone again, an article with Peter Parker's face still up.

It didn't matter anymore that you shouldn't know his identity. You smiled a little at the photo, knowing it didn't change anything. You were still very much in love with him, and knowing what he looked like and what his name was made that more certain for you.

You hoped that this issue would be dealt with soon, so you could see him again and reassure him that none of your feelings changed. You knew he didn't do what they were accusing him of.

Peter...you finally had a name for him. You couldn't wait to be able to call him that.

You left your window open. Just in case.

-

"So, can I have a hint at least?"

Spider-Man huffed, and you could guess he was giving you a look underneath his mask. "No."

"Come on," you teased a little, putting down an Uno card while you spoke, "I'm not asking for your name or like, your social security number. Just a little tidbit of information."

"Y/N," he said warningly, before smacking down a +4 card. You rolled your eyes and muttered a curse before picking up four cards. "Information of any kind is dangerous."

"Well, I think we've ruled out that I know you in real life. That or you're an incredible actor, which I think you aren't. I can always tell when you're bluffing and I can't even see your face, so. What would be the harm?"

Spider-Man was silent for a while as you both continued, and you dropped it. He had been coming to see you for months now, long after you stopped making hot chocolate. You were sure he knew you were only ever teasing, but sometimes you worried you would push him too far and he'd decide he didn't want to put up with it anymore and just not come back.

You really didn't want that. You were thinking of a way to apologize and maybe crack a joke that would get him to relax again, but he spoke first.

"How about this. I'll tell you something about me whenever you want to ask, but you have to tell me something you've never told me before in exchange."

Well, that was a great offer. You wanted to know more about him since the day he landed on your balcony, but the problem was...

"I'm an open book," you complained, "I tell you everything. How am I supposed to come up with something?"

Spider-Man chuckled, and you found yourself wishing you could hear him laugh forever. You were constantly teetering on the edge of whether or not you had a little crush on him, and you were pretty sure that if he kept laughing at your dumb jokes, you were going to definitely fall over the edge for him sooner rather than later.

"My favorite color is blue," he said in response, putting down a blue five as if to emphasize the point. "Your turn."

You put your card down, trying to think of something. Well, you weren't sure if this counted, but you definitely hadn't told him this before. "Um...I picture you having brown eyes."

Spider-Man seemed to pause a second too long before putting his card down. "Really?"

"Yep," you felt your face warm up, "Warm brown. Like, in the sunlight, they almost turn golden."

He was quiet for a minute before putting his next card down. "Well, you're wrong, sorry. They're green."

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. Like you said, you always knew when he was bluffing. "Well, guess I get an F in the chat, then."

Spider-Man chuckled, "No biggie. There's like, only four eye colors, I think. Easy to guess wrong. You had a 75% chance of failure."

"Is that how math works?"

"How would I know. I totally definitely suck at math."

-

Your eyes focused on the uno deck sitting on your desk, almost wishing you could go back to that moment. While it was before Spider-Man and you were more than friends, and before you knew who he was...at least his identity was a secret. At least people didn't harass him constantly for something you knew he didn't do.

Plus, you hadn't seen him in person in two weeks now. You assumed he was in for questioning, but you hoped he was okay. Even though you knew who he was, you knew better than to stomp up to his school and demand to ask why he hadn't come to talk to you. If he only knew you as Spider-Man, no one else probably knew who you were.

You remembered watching the news when they let him go back to school. You were certain you had never run into him as Peter before - he was completely unrecognizable or familiar, except when you focused on the bottom half of his face. You could definitely imagine him with the smile he usually wore when you were lucky enough to see him with his mask halfway up.

He was never smiling in the footage they showed.

You hated it. You hated so much that he was being harassed by the media and protestors demanding he be thrown in jail. No details about the case against him had been shared with the public yet - it was clearly more of an international issue.

You just wanted to be able to help him. You wished you could see him to even just be there for him, since you knew this issue was beyond your ability to fix.

Once the press and government laid off him, you were sure he was going to come see you.

-

"Hey."

You let out a scream, making Spider-Man also jump, nearly launching the bag in his hands. It would've been funny if he hadn't crawled through your window with minimal noise and jump scared you.

"Jesus, what the hell! I told you I was watching a scary movie," you complained as he laughed.

"Coulda dropped my croissant," Spider-Man muttered, and you shot him a dirty look, turning back to your computer and shutting it.

"How dare you make a vine reference after that, I feel like my soul just ascended," you put a hand on your chest dramatically, "So what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you've killed me?"

"Well, I can make it up with snacks," he held up the bag he almost dropped, and you cracked.

"Only if they're from Mah-Ze-Dahr."

"Of course," Spidey sounded offended as he handed you the bag. "I know you too well."

You grinned and pulled out a cinnamon roll before handing the bag back, "Tell me a fact."

Spider-Man lifted his mask up just to above his nose, the most you've ever seen of his face. It took him a while to even do that, but even he couldn't resist your pumpkin bread when you made some last fall. He grabbed a brioche donut from the bag before setting it on your desk.

"Um...my best friend and I built a lego death star in less than three days. Three school days, actually."

"I can't believe it," you said in fake shock, "Spider-Man, a secret nerd? New York will never recover from this. I'm shook. Shooken. Shaked."

"Okay, okay, stop butchering the English language," Spider-Man protested, his face turning red much to your delight. "It's your turn."

"I've never seen Star Wars."

Spider-Man choked on his donut, "What? No, that's a crime. Totally illegal, actually. Sorry to do this Y/N but I have to take you in."

"Can I get a phone call at least? I know someone who would bail me out."

"Nope, this is way too high of a crime. Bail is like a million dollars."

"Okay, but to be fair, the movies came out like. Forty years ago or something."

"Y/N," Spider-Man frowned, "There were ones that came out last year. You didn't even see those?"

You shrugged, "Just...never got the chance?"

Spider-Man was shaking his head, "I can't believe you've done this. You understand now that we have to watch them, right? I'll bring my copies. Like, right now. I'll go get them."

You tried to hide the small smile rising on your lips. "Okay, sure."

"I don't even have to convince you? That was easy."

"Well, if you want to, go ahead. I'd love to hear your arguments." Spider-Man stared at you, and you assumed he was giving you a dirty look. "Okay, no, you don't have to. I'd like to watch them, especially if you like them."

Really, you were grasping onto any chance to get to know him better. Based on how passionate he seemed about these movies, you definitely wanted to watch them with him.

-

The familiar knock made you sit up straight and whip around, feeling your heart leap up to your throat when you saw Spider-Man perched on the balcony. You were quick to go open the window.

Neither of you said anything for a moment, but you opened your arms and he was already hugging you. You managed to pull him into your room, not bothering to shut the window considering he wasn't letting you go anytime soon - not that you minded in the slightest.

You missed him so much.

It was a while before he finally let you go, but you didn't let him go very far. You cupped his cheeks, giving him a reassuring smile before he could say anything about the identity situation. You didn't need words to convey to him that you were okay.

"Y/N," Spider-Man whispered, and you felt some kind of relief at the sound of his voice after so long.

"Peter."

He visibly relaxed when you said his name, and you realized it was the first time you were able to say it out loud. It was almost thrilling, even if you hated how you found out. His masked eyes shut as you held his face, smiling at him softly.

"This wasn't what I wanted it to be like," he said, his gloved hands moving down your shoulders to lightly hold your arms. "Is...are you...does this change anything?"

You moved his chin up so he could look at you, before hesitantly moving your fingers down to his neck. He didn't protest as you felt for the ends of his mask, going slowly enough for him to stop you if you wanted.

Once you pulled his mask off, you knew already that seeing him on a screen didn't do him justice. His eyes were warmer in person, and you felt like you could finally see him. You let your thumb move over his freckled cheeks, almost smiling at the way his eyebrows got messed up from the mask, but you couldn't move your eyes away from his.

"I knew you had brown eyes, you liar," you broke the silence, and his lips spread into a beautiful smile. You'd seen him smile a hundred times, but seeing it reach his eyes was so much better.

"And no, Peter. This doesn't change anything, not for me," you reassured him, and he shut his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours. "I told you it wouldn't."

"Hearing you say my real name...almost makes this all worth it."

"I can't tell you how happy I am that I know it," you smiled as he looked up at you, not sure how you'll get used to seeing his real eyes light up.

"Really?"

"I'm not happy about the circumstances, but I am happy to know you," you smiled weakly, "I can't believe they're accusing you of something like this. After all the years you've dedicated to saving people."

"I don't know if...I'm not sure how to go about this," he sighed, "They're watching me like a hawk. I'm lucky I didn't get followed here."

"You sure you didn't?"

"Karen has been keeping me updated on any kind of police activity and surveillance on me. Trust me, that's why it took so long for me to come see you. I wanted to see you the second they let me out, but..."

"It's okay," you promised, not able to look away from him if you wanted to. "I mean, you've been in Europe for so long before this even happened, so it's definitely been a while. But totally worth the wait."

"So long," he agreed, his eyes searching your face before lifting his hand to hold your face, "I've really, really missed you."

"Me too."

"I know it's been a while and a lot of insane things just happened," his eyes flickered to your lips as his thumb brushed against your cheek, "But...can-is it okay if I-?"

"Yes," you interrupted him, lifting up to press your lips to his. He held you closer, and you could feel the tense air seem to disappear as you finally kissed him.

"God, I missed you so much," he whispered when he pulled away, his voice sounding like it was on the verge of cracking. "This month has been hell."

"I know, sweetheart," you kissed his forehead, "Let's talk about it. If you want to."

"I do."

-

"When I became Spider-Man, I woke up with abs, which was almost more concerning than the powers that came with them."

You couldn't stop from laughing, eventually shoving your pretzels to the side so you couldn't choke on them if he decided to tell you another stupid piece of information. Spider-Man grabbed the bowl for himself, but you didn't mind.

"Your turn. And you better make it a good one, because that was some juicy information," Spider-Man chuckled, and you forced one in return, remembering what you wanted to say.

You had been building up the courage to tell him how you felt. It was hard to tell if he returned the feelings, considering his face couldn't give him away, but you were at the point where you figured you'd combust if you didn't tell him.

And hey, if it went bad, at least you didn't know who he was. You could probably avoid him forever.

"Um..." you took a breath, not letting yourself chicken out. Better now than never. "I...I have feelings for someone."

Spider-Man froze, his gloved hand stopping half-way to his mouth. "Oh?"

"Mhm," you didn't continue, and Spider-Man didn't bother eating any more. He let his hand drop and you tried not to stare too obviously at his lips as they turned downward, frowning.

"Who?" He asked quietly, and you grasped onto the almost jealous tone in his voice, hoping you weren't just imagining it.

"Well, you have to tell me a fact first. That's the rule."

He shifted a little, crossing his arms. "I...also have feelings for someone."

You stared at him, though he wasn't looking at you anymore. His gaze seemed to be focused on his hands.

"I never know what to do when I'm around her," he continued, and finally brought his masked eyes up to meet yours. "She's smart, and funny, and never lets me forget how many times she's beaten my ass at Uno."

"Uno, huh?" You asked weakly, and Spider-Man cracked a smile.

"She makes me nervous, but in a good way," he kept going. "I always want to be around her. I think about her all the time. I think about what I say before I speak so I could come off as smarter than I actually am, because I want her to think I am. I say stupid jokes because the sound of her laugh is my favorite thing in the world. I want it to be a song so I can listen to it every day. I think she's the most beautiful girl in the world. And I don't think I deserve her."

"Is her favorite bakery Mah-Ze-Dahr?"

"Yep," he said shortly, and you could tell he was nervous. But you felt like you just won the lottery.

"And she makes Mexican hot chocolate during the holidays?"

"Yeah. The very best."

You were grinning as you leaned toward him, wishing more than anything that you could see his expression. But the bottom half of his face was enough for now.

"Well, I'm pretty sure she probably feels the same."

"Yeah?" He prompted, sitting up and leaning toward you slightly, "How sure are you?"

"Like, 100% sure."

"Okay. Well, you still haven't answered my question. Who do you have feelings for?"

You didn't want to make it easy for him, but you were pretty sure if you didn't admit it already, you were going to combust. "You."

His wide smile made the nerves go away, and he was reaching for you before you could say anything else. "Oh, good. You had me scared for a second."

"Psh, as if it could be anyone else," your eyes moved to his lips as he brought his gloved hands up to your face. "It's kind of always been you."

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

"Never been so sure of anything."

"Then I can kiss you?"

"Well I've been waiting very patiently, so uh, yes please."

That cliche about fireworks erupting and butterflies doing jumping jacks in your stomach the first time you kissed someone you really liked was stupid, in your opinion. But when Spider-Man kissed you, carefully as if to make sure you had time to shove him away if you wanted, you knew that maybe that cliche had some truth to it.

Your hands moved on their own to hold the back of his neck, your body shifting upward to get a better angle as your lips moved against his. He was soft, and sweet, and you didn't ever picture kissing someone like this to be so amazing. His free hand moved to your waist and pulled you even closer.

You didn't want it to end, but after a minute you both had to pull away to breathe and process what just happened. Spider-Man had been a constant in your life for months, but you didn't think you'd get so lucky to have him return your feelings. But based on at least the bottom half of his face that you could see, he definitely felt the same.

"That was nice," he finally said, and you cracked a grin. "We could've been doing that this whole time."

"Yeah, well if someone dropped that beautiful confession earlier, maybe we could've."

"Glad my romantic rant worked on you," he grinned, and you laughed as you rested your head against his chest, not able to keep the stupid smile off your face.

"If that whole romantic rant wasn't about me, I would have actually kicked you out," you said, and his chest moved as he chuckled.

"And I would've deserved it," you felt his lips press against your head, and you felt like you were melting. "I...I know I can't be totally honest with you, and you can't know me completely. But I feel like you know me despite the mask, and you never really push me to tell you who I am. I love that. I love that you can trust me and be normal with me despite the whole superhero thing. I love who I am with you."

"I love who you are with me, too," you lifted your face up to look at him, "I love you."

His wide smile confirmed that he felt the same, but he said it out loud anyway.

"I love you too."

-

"Tell me a fact," you said out of habit.

A few weeks after the unexpected identity reveal, and nothing had really calmed down. Peter was still sneaking in to see you, and not as often as he used to. But every moment was completely worth it, and your feelings were somehow even stronger knowing who was behind your Spider-Man's mask.

"I don't have anything to hide anymore, sweetheart," Peter chuckled, and the sound of that nickname without a mask to cover it made your heart skip a beat. "You can ask me anything."

"Yeah, but I like doing it it this way," you grinned, "Besides, I'm sure I still have some things I could tell you about me."

"Okay, fine," he agreed, shifting slightly so he could look down at you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his lips lifting slightly.

"I hope you never stop looking at me like that," he admitted, which made you smile more.

"I won't. I don't think I'll ever get used to being able to see your face," you leaned up to give him a quick kiss, "And being able to do that whenever I want."

He didn't let you escape so easily, his hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place while he kissed you more.

"I hope you don't get used to it," he mumbled against your lips, and you couldn't help but laugh through the kiss. It might have been a few minutes before you fully pulled away.

"Your turn," he said breathlessly, and you chuckled.

"I want to meet your family," you said softly, and his eyes lit up, "I know with the whole identity thing going on right now it's...not really possible. But I'd love to meet your aunt. And your friends."

"I'd love for you to meet them. May would love you. So would Ned and MJ. I think you and MJ might get along too well, actually. She already wants to meet you."

"She knows about me?" You asked, maybe a little too hopefully.

"Of course, they all know about you," he scoffed, "I mean, they didn't always know. I told them when this whole thing happened. They were pretty upset I kept you a secret."

"Well, you don't have to anymore," you ran your fingers through his hair, and he shut his eyes, "I mean, of course...I guess right now wouldn't be a good idea. If anyone saw us together it probably would spark another newspaper headline about how your spider powers help you seduce women. They're getting really creative."

"Right," he didn't laugh like you thought he would, which made you frown.

"You okay?" You asked softly, even though you knew it was kind of a stupid question. Of course he wasn't okay right now.

"You're...the only secret I still have," Peter said quietly. "My whole life is being dissected every day, I get questioned at school, all everyone wants to talk about is me being Spider-Man. If people knew you existed, what you meant to me - it would ruin everything. Then you'd start getting questioned, and I don't want that for you."

"Well..." you trailed off, not sure how to reassure him that everything would be okay, because you weren't even sure if it would be. "That's kind of just the way it has to be, right? I want to be with you. That's something I can deal with when it comes to that point."

"I don't want you to have to deal with it."

"I wish I could fix this for you. I hate knowing you go through all of that."

Peter sat up suddenly, making you drop your hand from his hair. "Y/N, that's the problem. It's not me - I knew what might happen if my identity got exposed. I thought about it all the time, but I became careless, and I didn't think about it when I met you. You don't deserve for me to sneak around to see you. You should be with someone who can show you off, who can actually be there for you."

"Hey-" you started to protest, not liking the direction this conversation was going, but he was already on his feet and sliding the suit on.

"I need to go figure some things out. I think I might be gone for a little while, it's too risky coming here so often. I'm sorry."

"Peter," you tried, "Please don't leave. You haven't even let me talk about how I feel about what you just said."

"Because you'll try to change my mind," his eyes were pleading as he looked at you, "I need some time to think about this. I need to talk to someone who would understand."

You knew immediately who he wanted to talk to. Tony Stark. He also had his identity as Iron Man announced to the public (albeit he chose to tell everyone, unlike Peter), but at least he would have understood the consequences. Not for the first time, you wished he was still around to help Peter through this.

And you weren't the person who would understand.

"Okay," you finally agreed, "But you aren't allowed to break up with me. It's illegal."

He cracked a small smile, "Yes, it's very illegal. Much jail time. And just so you know, that wasn't what I meant. I'm not stupid enough to break up with you."

"Then no more talk about not deserving me or wanting me to be with some rando that can 'show me off'," you narrowed your eyes at him, "I want you. I don't care what baggage comes with it. You know that, right?"

He visibly softened, coming back over to your and cupping your face. "I love you."

"Love you more," you smiled, closing your eyes when he kissed your forehead. He was gone when you opened them again.

-

"I want to try something."

You looked up at your boyfriend (you couldn't believe you were lucky enough to be able to call him that). "Okay?"

"Close your eyes," he prompted, and you gave him a funny look. "Trust me. And keep them closed, okay?"

You definitely trusted him, so you shut your eyes and sat up a little straighter on your bed. Your eyebrows knit as you heard a rustling sound, and then felt the bed dip as Spider-Man got on it across from you. Then he took your hand.

You breath caught as you realized you could feel his skin, and not the usual rubbery glove feeling when he held your hand. He brought it up, and you almost stiffened as he placed your palm against his cheek. His bare cheek.

He wasn't wearing his suit.

You pressed your lips together, almost having to squeeze your eyes shut so you wouldn't open them no matter how much you wanted to. His breathing hitched a little as you moved your hand up to his hair, surprised by how much of it there was.

"You...have curls," you couldn't help but smile, your fingers moving through his hair. You almost thought he was pressing into your hand, so you didn't stop.

"I do."

His voice sounded softer without the mask, less muffled. It really was taking everything in you not to open your eyes. You let your hand move back down his face again, cupping his cheek. Your other hand moved around blindly until his fingers caught yours. Of course he knew what you were looking for.

You smiled as you intertwined your fingers, and you could feel him shaking a little. The fact that he was trusting you so much made your heart want to burst out of your chest.

"I wish I could see you," you whispered, and he sighed through his nose, his fingers tightening around yours.

"Me too. I would break every rule right now if I could." You wished you could hear his regular voice like this more often.

"Well, you're the rule-maker, so you could also be the rule-breaker," you chuckled, and you were sure he was rolling his eyes.

"You'd be worth it," his words made butterflies start breakdancing in your stomach, but you ignored them, "I think some Avengers would come kick my butt if anyone else found out about my identity, though."

"Fair enough. One day."

"One day," he agreed, and you felt him shift slightly, and then felt his hand on your cheek, "Can I kiss you?"

"You don't have to ask anymore."

"Just want to make sure."

It was different this time, and it made you crave for the day you could finally do this knowing who he really was. At least now, your hands could actually feel him instead of his suit. Your fingers could thread through his hair as he moved his lips against yours. His hands were warm as they cupped your cheeks, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

He didn't put the mask back on for a while. You were still riding off the high of knowing how much he trusted you, so you weren't going to complain at all about the difficulty of having to keep your eyes closed this long. So instead you laid on your bed with him while he talked to you, thrilled at the fact that you could actually touch him now without the barrier of a suit.

"Tell me a fact," you said after a while, your eyes still shut as you left your hand come up and play with his hair. You couldn't get enough of it.

"I wish now more than ever that I could tell you who I was," he whispered, and it was so hard not to open your eyes. "I wish we could be like this all the time. I wish I didn't screw up how we met - I wish I met you as the real me, and won you over without the mask. I don't know if I could've, though."

"You definitely could've," your voice felt weak after that confession, "I didn't fall in love with a mask. I fell in love with your personality, your stupid jokes, the way you suck at Uno. I fell in love with the real you, and I would've done the same if I met you without the mask. I know it."

You felt him sigh, his arms tightening around you, "Your turn."

"It's getting hard to think of things I haven't told you. Uh...I've never left the country?"

"Hm," Spidey hummed, "I'm actually going to be going to Europe in a month."

"Wait, really?" You luckily didn't open your eyes, but it was hard not to, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's just a school trip. Something about wanting us to have fun and be normal since the whole snap thing. It won't be that long, anyway. Like, a couple weeks max."

"Are you gonna bring me a souvenir?" You joked, and he laughed.

"Of course. To make up for all the time I won't be able to spend with you."

"Simp," you whispered, and he chuckled again, "I'll miss you too."

"Wish you could come with me," he pressed a kiss to your neck, making your chest warm, "Especially since you've apparently never left the country before. Also, you've told me that already, so you still owe me another one."

"Wait, I did?"

"Yep. When we first met. I remember very clearly."

"I think you're lying just so I'll say something else."

"Nah, Spider-Man can't lie. It's illegal."

"Well I'm not telling you anything else."

"Fine. Keep your secrets."

-

Peter came back a week later.

"I'm going to ask Dr. Strange to make it so everyone forgets who Spider-Man is."

"Dr. Strange?" You couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped your lips, "Is that a real name?"

"I have no idea," Peter chuckled with you, but then he scrunched his eyebrows and looked serious again.

"So...this guy with the weird name would have the ability to do that?"

"I think so," he frowned more, "He's the only person I can think of, at least. And...it would just be easier if everyone forgets. I could start back from square one."

"You don't need worry lines," you sighed, reaching a hand up and smoothing his out with your thumb, "You're, like, seventeen."

"And a superhero that was put on a watch list," he countered, catching your wrist with his hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. "But you're right. That's why I'm going to fix this. It'll make everything easier."

"Then...won't I also forget?" You couldn't held the sad tone creeping into your voice, and Peter's expression didn't reassure you. "Oh."

"That wasn't how I wanted you to find out. I did want you to find out, I promise - just...not like that. And I will tell you, the right way. Especially now that I know you'll like the real me."

"I already liked the real you, dork," you sniffed, "Just because I didn't have a name or face doesn't mean I didn't like the real you."

"I know," he smiled, and you felt your heart clench at the idea that you wouldn't know what it was like to see his smiles reach his eyes anymore.

"When will you tell me, then?"

"I don't know," he squeezed your hand, his eyes meeting yours. "I will, though. I promise. I've gotten way too used to you knowing me completely for me to want to go back to having to lie to you."

"It didn't bother me that much," you shrugged, "I mean, knowing that I was right about the brown eyes was definitely the peak part of this whole thing."

He chuckled, "I already miss this. Yeah, I'll have to tell you sooner rather than later."

"Well...you're going to figure it out either way. It's not like I'll remember you promising me you'll tell me," you joked, but Peter's eyes got a little sad. "But don't worry. Just know that no matter how long it takes, I'll be happy with who you are."

"I'll probably go to Strange tomorrow, then."

"Good," you forced a smile, hoping he didn't notice, "I hope it works out how you want it to, Pete."

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you tried to ignore the weird feeling that told you it might be the last time he did that for a while.

"Me too."

~

taglist: @lilbeatlebear @somefuckshit1 @hufflepuffseeker

[thejudgingtrash]

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

[falling-forever-upwards]

[Image ID: Three traditional sketches of Michael Shelley, Oliver Banks, and Annabelle Cane from TMA. The first is Michael. He is a fat white man with shoulder length blond curly hair, and a slightly concerned smile. He is wearing a t-shirt under a suit jacket.

The second is Oliver. He is a thin black man with a long angular face and short coiled hair cut square at the top. He has an industrial piercing in his right ear, wide sad eyes, and a mournful expression. He is wearing a polo shirt.

The third is Annabelle. She is a thin black woman with a round face and bleach blonde hair in an undercut. She has a gap-toothed smile, a slit in her left eyebrow, worm on a string earrings, and a conch piercing shaped like a leaf. She is wearing a jumper with small peaches on it under a pair of overalls, and her expression is joyful. End ID.]

Round one of "character portraits to nail down the cast's designs", featuring our loveable Michael, everyone's favourite coroner, and our iconic spider queen (pre-spidered).