#my accident prone son

[peaches-creek]

“What if they don’t like me.” You say.

“They have begged me for months for a day like this, do not worry my love.”

“So, what if they finally meet me and they-“

“They will love you, just as I do.” He interrupts.

As you walk up the stone walkway leading into Konig’s childhood home, you can’t help but feel insecure. You have been dating for a little over a year, and have a small apartment off base together. You haven’t met them yet due to busy work schedules. Though you did feel as though you were putting it off, you couldn’t help but felt as time passed that they must resent you, keeping their son away from them for so long. You walk up to the door and Konig gives three loud knocks to the white-painted wooden door.

Now you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but with the way Konig explained his mother, you would’ve thought she was a tiny old lady. He had said his parents were a bit older, having him in their late thirties, making them around 65-70 years old. He mentioned two siblings, a brother who lives in the states, and a younger sister who lives at home. His father and mother owned a bakery in town, right near a church. He worked there when he was a teenager.

Anyways, as the door opens, you have to look up to greet her. She had to be about 6’2, with grayish blonde hair, and just the right amount of wrinkles that tell you she has lived a happy life.

“Hallo! You must be the girl I hear so much about. Come in, come in, we have so much to show you.” She greets, guiding you inside, she seems like one of the nicest women you have ever met, she looks young for her age.

The house is beautiful, everything looks handcrafted. Then you see his father and realize Konig gets his height from his mother, his father couldn’t be only taller than 5’8

“How do you like your tea?” He asks.

“Milk and sugar please.”

For the next hour, you will see countless albums of baby Konig, kid Konig, and even awkward phase Konig. All so adorable and dorky. His mother is nothing but kind, asking you questions about yourself and seeming genuinely interested. His father is more quiet, but he has this kind smile that just rests on his face, you can see it as he catches up with his son. It was a wonderful afternoon.

“So you two live together?” His mother asks. Konig and his father were outside, talking about their garden.

“Just a small apartment off base, not too far from here actually.” You say.

“That’s nice, it seems very serious between you two.”

“Well it is to me, your son means the world to me.”

“That’s a very refreshing thing to say to a mother you know,” she starts, “I was always so worried about him, He is very hard on himself, I was even more worried when he joined the military.”

“He is very good at his job I hope you know, I worry as well but he is very diligent and precise.” You soothe

The front door jingles as if a key were being used. In walks in a woman, about the same size as your boyfriend. About 6’9, same red hair, and same sweet smile.

“Hello.” You greet.

“Ah, it’s very nice to meet you.” She says giving your hand a firm shake. She sits down at the table right across from you.

“Yes, I agree.” You say.

“So how did you to meet?”

“We met through work, I’m a medic.”

“Yes, I met her when she had to give me a few stitches,” Konig interrupts, walking back inside, “She was very gentle compared to the rest of the medics that work there.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You say.

“I disagree, anyways she didn’t actually talk to me until we were on a job, She had to reset my knee, again very gentle.”

“As gentle as a person can be while pushing a bone back into its place.”

“You seem very accident prone, my son.” His father adds.

“Yes, he is, I think he does it on purpose.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Konig says.

“When did you get the courage to ask her out.” His sister asks.

“She had to ask, I was very nervous and backed down many times. She asked if I liked tea, to which I said yes, and then she asked if we could go get some the following morning, I said yes.”

“Very romantic.” His mother gushes.

The afternoon turns to evening and it’s time to go back to your apartment.

“It was very nice to meet you all, I don’t know why I was so nervous, you guys are so lovely.”

“Come back anytime, I can teach you how to bake strudel.” His mother offers.

“I would really like that.”

You exchange goodbyes and get into Konig’s truck.

“Wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He points out.

“No, it was awesome Your family is so kind, I see where you get it from.”

He grins, and continues driving.

What you didn’t know, was that his mother slipped his grandmothers ring in his hand before you guys left.

[tobyislame]

some ticci toby headcanons

consider this a headcanon salad cus these were all randomly thrown together as they came to me

- fragile masculinity up to the NINES with this one

- totally an ice eater what a sicko

- he's double jointed in so many places. also freakishly flexible. likes to freak people out by popping his joints in and out of place lmao

- has the crackiest bones ever. you think you hear sticks breaking in the woods its just toby's crack ass ankles

- weed partaker but stays the freak away from the bottle cus yk he doesn't want to find out if that "like father like son" stuff is true

- plays guitar and makes up shitty 1 minute sad guy with a guitar songs. fingerstyle typa guy

- plays ONLY FOR HIMSELF and gets embarrassed but tries to act like he's not if someone walks in on him. like he'll just hastily stop n scramble to put away his guitar n act all cool like he totally wasn't playing guitar just now and go "whaddyouwant"

- definitely sneaks into concerts and shows. it's easy for him to blend in there. gets suuuper fucking beat up in the pit cus yk he doesn't realize how battered up he's getting in the moment until he gets a glimpse of himself and is like oh hell my lip's busted and my nose is in a different place than it was before

- think he'd have an owen wilson nose on account of how much he's broken it

- also one of his canines is missing

- just a SUUUPER accident prone guy. has no sense of self preservation. like ZERO (cus he was never really taught how to manage his cipa) (well he was yk before The Incident but he doesn't remember much of it)

- has sun spots cus he's outside all day all the time. also tonsss of freckles and moles

- burns his playlists onto cds

- he'd like every music genre but in particular i think he'd listen to late 90s/early 2000s teenage boy music. also 80s music. specifically new wave stuff

- knows a lil bit of asl for his verbal shutdowns

- also i hc him as audhd

- along with his stutter (which i don't consider to be related to his tourettes) he also just has a speech impediment. like sometimes his r's or l's come out as w's and he has trouble pronouncing certain sounds or words and just says them wrong and people correct him consistently he just doesn't really listen or care to correct himself

- not too good at spelling or any of that grammar stuff

- i really want to stress that he's NOT stupid. he hate hate hates how people patronize him and make him out to be some sort of incapable dunce. it makes him feel small and he hates feeling small. he's smart, he's just not good at communicating it. no matter what he tries his words just come out wrong. "i'm lots smarter in my head" is what he'd probably say

- always has a fidget spinner/cube on him

- he kinda just vomits when he gets overwhelmed. like when he has to ride in a car he leans his head out the window like a dog the whole way, partly just cus he likes it and it's fun to play airplane with his hand in the wind but also cus he could spew his guts at any moment

- collects spider-man comics and cool rocks. also unironically looks up to spider-man cus he always gets back up despite all the shit he gets put through. he feels like he could learn from that. he thinks it makes him seem like a kid though which is something he really wants to prove that he's not so he keeps it to himself

- super gross oh my god he's so gross. like doesn't wash his body in the shower cus "the water will get it" picks his nose and eats it kind of gross. will also get all obnoxious and in your face about it if you rightfully tell him he's a sick fuck for that

- honestly that'd be his response every time someone criticizes him

- like you could be like "you fuckin reek" n he'd be like "oh yea?" and grapple you into a headlock with his armpit shoved in your face

- his speech pattern is a little funky. like his sentences just come out like they were sorta haphazardly put together. he doesn't make much sense a lot of the time

- i wanna say he's endearingly dorky but he's just fucking weird. like he probably flirts in a napoleon dynamite-esque fashion. he has a vague idea of what flirting is he just doesn't quite got it but hey he's got the spirit

- he really just has a vague idea of what conversation is in general. he just doesn't have that good of a grasp on how people talk to each other. he feels a major glaring disconnect between himself and every other human in the world and it just makes him feel even smaller

- a lost fucking puppy when it comes to talking to women. just completely and utterly helpless. he stutters a lot more he trips over his words a lot more which just makes him red it's brutal to watch

- my voiceclaim for him is whoever voices bumblebee before he loses his voice box in the michael bay transformers movies (just looked it up it's stiles fucking stilinski)

- his voice cracks all the time ESPECIALLY when he raises his voice. he gets red and embarrassed every time it does and he really badly tries to hide it which just makes it even funnier to everyone else poor guy

- wants so badly to be perceived as a big intimidating muscle man but he just isn't no matter how hard he tries

[turbulentscrawl]

Alva Lorenz General HCs

You'll have for forgive me for any typos--this man's been on my mind for two days and I have to get these out. I'm too impatient to check everything hahah

-Alva did not actually betray Luca by passing off any pf Herman’s work as his own. Though he did always maintain some interest in the concept of a perpetual motion machine, Alva didn’t dedicate much time to working on it after Herman’s death. He did, however, start the fire which killed Herman in an outburst-fueled accident similar to how Luca later killed him. Alva, however, escaped suspicion of the event and was not legally punished.

-Alva knew Herman had a son and, though he never personally met Herman’s family, knew who Luca was through grapevine rumors. He agreed to take Luca on as his student partially out of guilt for his unexposed crime, and partially because he had no children of his own and quickly felt a certain parental urge for Luca. They shared a lot in common and got on very well, very quickly, and their relationship was great right up until the accident. The documentation that seems to indicate their relationship deteriorating is coincidental. (ex, Luca’s experiments slowly transitioning from both he and Alva signing off on them to just Luca was Alva giving Luca more independence because he trusted him, rather than them growing apart or secretive.)

-I think Alva may be autistic. He doesn’t require much in the way of accommodations, and he doesn’t have the sensory issues that Aesop does. However, his speech is sometimes overly flat, his view of the world a bit rigid, his social energy levels are low, he’s prone to bouts of depression, he fixates on his work a lot, and he often fidgets with things like pens and clothes. He enjoys touching various textures, and often expresses appreciation for the material of people’s clothes. Additionally, he’s made a living out of his special interest: inventive engineering.

-Alva is a solemn and polite man. He’s rather chivalrous, but reserved, and as a result was admired by many for his mysterious-gentleman air. “Hermit” is an apt name for Alva, however, as he rarely enjoyed the company of others. He especially felt overwhelmed in large groups. He has always preferred one-on-one socializing, and even that he had a smaller tolerance for than was typical for men of his class. Luckily, he doesn’t have much in the way of a temperament, so when he’s tired of socializing, he’s just that: tired. Sexy Old man.

-To specify, when I say chivalrous, I mean he’s the kind of man who holds doors open for others, offers his hand to help them up from a seat or down from some height, share his umbrella in the rain, and would even lay his coat in a puddle for a lady to cross over. He offers chivalry moreso to women than men, but if a man presents as meek or shy enough in his presence he will extend the gestures to them as well, hoping to make them feel more comfortable.

-Alva’s only family at the time of his death was his wife. She was barren, and they had no children, and all the rest of his family had passed due to age or illness. Luca therefore became something of a surrogate son to Alva over the years. Though he sometimes struggled to show it, Alva cared for him like blood and always looked out for him.

-Alva didn’t care much about his overall predicament, after being resurrected. His religious proclivities were more for show than anything, so being a chosen of some…eldritch-cat-god is hardly the worst of his concerns. Until the manor, he hadn’t been expected to do anything he considered reprehensible or very immoral, so he’s always been fine with just completing his orders so he could go back to his work.

-After joining the manor, Alva’s only real comfort is his work. In life, inventive engineering was his method of self-expression, the way he interacted with the world, his reason for living. That changed a bit when his wife came along, and then again for Luca, but with those gone he’s back to his reclusive nature. It takes a long time for Alva to make friendships in the manor. He’s familiar with Ann out of necessity, but they’re merely cordial. With time, he becomes friendly with a small handful of others, but his melancholy is still pervasive.

-Inevitably, with enough time at the manor, Alva craves reconciliation with Luca. He doesn’t entirely blame Luca for what happened. At the end of everything, Alva knows the accident was an accident as well as a misunderstanding. (And also probably some kind of ironic, cosmic retribution for him killing Herman.) The trouble is, Luca does not remember him at all, or what happened. He knows from a few conversations that the boy’s cleverness is still in-tact, but his memories are almost entirely gone. As far as Alva is concerned, this means he’ll never get the closure of genuine, mutual apologies, and he’ll never have his “son” back. Not really.

-When Luca was his student, they were a powerful duo in public. Alva, despite being respectful and courteous to individuals, has never ‘jived’ with society as a whole. He doesn’t care about public opinion and is easily exhausted from public exposure. Luca, meanwhile, is a social butterfly. They were both charming, and worked out a system for any public appearances Alva needed to make: Luca would handle most of the talking—unless Alva’s interest was specifically sparked by some topic of conversation—so Alva could do his best to actually enjoy the atmosphere. And when Luca was ready to go, you best believe Alva was ready with their excuse to bail. The two were always favorites at any party or event, and always had interested suitors close at their heels.

-Despite being overwhelmed by conversation and crowds, Alva does enjoy the set-up for a lot of public events and parties. He likes the artfulness of decoration, and always takes time to appreciate the hard work put into setting up things like that (and once again, he loves to touch, feels the textures). He especially loves flowers. He occasionally finds loud music to be a bit overstimulating. Similarly, he likes fireworks, but requires earplugs to enjoy them fully.

-Alva’s age (at time of death) was somewhere between 40-45. His undead body is no longer aging, so physically he’s the same. Sometimes Alva misses his longer hair, but unfortunately that’s not growing anymore.

[thcfountain]

Summary: The local news and media outlets have dubbed the serial killer haunting their town as 'THE SWEETHEART KILLER'. But in this little town, evil recognizes evil and love is formed in the darkest places.

Part One of Two. Part Two.

Tags: murder, oral male receiving, handjobs, implied sex but also detailed sex, horror, manipulation, implied bullying, talk of self harm, talk of suicide, talk of depression, degradation kink, cum swallowing, implied god complex.

Word count: 2,349

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PROLOGUE. 

He's a good boy with shit luck.

You could have asked anyone in that little town and they'd all tell you the same thing - Noah Sebastian was a good boy with the worst string of luck they'd ever seen.

His bad luck train had started in high school. Back then, he'd been a quiet boy who kept to himself and that had made him the easiest target for bullies. Ask anyone, they'd tell you about the times they'd seen John Marks push him around and sneer, calling Noah crass names and giving him the occasional, unwarranted black eye.

But then one day Noah stumbled out of the local woods, shaking like a leaf, fear written across his face. It wasn't uncommon to hear gunshots in hunting season, but this was far from hunting season and Noah swore up and down it had been an accident. He'd been lured out there by John and a fight had ensued for the gun - John's father's gun, the one that had never once been properly put away.

When Noah took the stand and pleaded self defense, of course everyone believed him, why wouldn't they, when they knew exactly how malicious John had been in real life. And even though it had been self defense, every day for a month after the trial, Noah showed up at the Marks’ residence, begging for Mrs. Marks’ forgiveness, bringing her flowers, doing menial chores here and there as if the loss of her son had been pure tragedy and not an accident in the woods, where he had planned to kill Noah.

Bad luck followed Noah to college, to a girlfriend that he followed around like a puppy, waiting on her every want or need, no matter how ridiculous. She was a sad girl, prone to self mutilation, writing despairing notes in her journal on a daily basis from a young age. It wasn't really a shock to anyone but Noah when they found her hanging.

Poor Noah, what despairing luck that boy had. What trauma it had brought him.

He came back home with a body covered in tattoos and the necessary degrees to teach kindergarten. The kids loved him and the way he managed to make them excited to learn and their parents sang him praises.

Wonderful Noah. Sweet Noah. The man who can do no wrong.

Of course, everyone who knew him had been so ecstatic when he found the man of his dreams, Oli - a man who was just as kind and sweet as Noah. They got married so quickly and the chapel had been packed with people who had come to celebrate the lovebirds on their joyous day.

Oli integrated himself into the town and into everyone's lives easily, opening a bakery in town. Noah's class loved him, the little old ladies who stopped in on early mornings for fresh pastries thought he was such a gentleman. 

Everyone knew that if you were in need, Noah and Oli would always come to your rescue. 

Such a sweet couple. Such kind-hearted men. Poor sweet Noah deserves this happiness after all that previous misfortune.

And then tragedy began to strike the entire town. The newspapers dubbed the serial killer that plagued them as ‘THE SWEETHEART KILLER’. 

A man who eluded authorities at every turn. Loving couples kept turning up dead in their own homes.

At least we have sweet Noah protecting our kids during the school day. At least we have kind Oli, selling us sweets and making us laugh when we need it most.

PART ONE: EVIL RECOGNIZES EVIL.

That first kill, all those years ago in high school, had left Noah feeling almost orgasmic. He was surprised, when he had walked out of the woods after shooting John, that anyone had believed his story. He kept expecting them to see how turned on and excited he had been by the murder, kept expecting someone to realize something wasn't quite right. 

But they never did and he had gotten away with it.

He chased that high all the way up to college, where he carefully chose his next victim. A woman who was easily manipulated into taking her own life.

He got away with that one too and it emboldened him.

He'd been a kindergarten teacher for a few months the next time the urge, the desperation to kill hit. He had picked a target at random - a beautiful man at a seedy bar who was just passing through town, someone no one would really look for or miss.

Except somewhere between the bar and the shady motel at the edge of town he and Oli had realized they had both picked each other for the same reason. They had both intended to make a victim out of the other.

Evil recognized evil and a dark romance was born and sealed in blood as they killed a homeless man that night together.

The rush of it brought them back to Noah's place. Clothes had been ripped and torn off each other (and the next day burned) and they hadn't even made it to the bedroom before Oli had shoved Noah against a wall, fucking him mercilessly - drawing out cries of pleasure that Noah hadn't even been aware he could make.

They had recognized in each other something they couldn't share with anyone else in the world. A need for violence and bloodshed. They got off on it and that had been the start of their whirlwind romance.

They had agreed to be good, of course, in the beginning days of that romance. They satiated their dark desires in the bedroom with knives and whips and toys meant to make each other bleed. For a while it had worked, their sexual depravity and consensual violence towards each other had staved off their joint desires to kill.

For a while, at least.

PART TWO: URGES.

Not long after their marriage in that little white chapel in town, the urges had crept in on them both. Neither could deny that those little promises of being good, of how their first kill together had to be their last, had faded. It was like an itch that couldn't be reached (well, that metaphor was lost on Noah, who Oli had excitedly learned, could bend in almost inhuman ways, contorting himself at times, or even easily putting his legs behind his head when Oli fucked him.). The more they tried to ignore that itch, the more annoying it became.

“You know,” said Noah, broaching the topic softly and curiously in the same manner that one might bring up the desire to adopt a pet, “one of the kids in my class is being abused. He comes to school black and blue some days and no one does anything about it. I know CPS has investigated at least once but the parents are so good at playing the loving, wholesome couple,” he gives Oli a dark and knowing look, his words full of unsaid implications.

“It sounds like it would be in that child's best interest if his parents were out of the picture,” replies Oli, who fully understands what Noah wants but won't say. 

They chose a day in which they knew the boy wouldn't be home, away on a playdate because his parents couldn't wait for a night of silence away from him.

Of course they had invited Oli and Noah in, they trusted the two completely, knew them as upstanding and loved members of the community.

Noah held a hand over the woman's mouth, muffling her scream as he forced her to watch as Oli slit her husband's throat. 

When both the man and woman were dead, their blood splattering the living room walls, the carpet, the furniture, the two snuck out in the cover of night.

They stumbled into their home, drunk on their own adrenaline and the overwhelming urge to fuck, just like that first time together.

Blood stained clothing quickly became discarded between open mouth kisses that barely left either of them with time to breathe.

Noah drops to his knees on the soft carpet of their living room, he's already semi hard, but it's not his own arousal he seeks to indulge in this moment - not quite yet anyway, and Oli knows what's coming and anticipates it with a hitch of his breath.

He watches as Noah's tongue darts out, licking his lips teasingly as he looks up at Oli with dark eyes, gazing through feminine lashes before placing a soft kiss to the head of Oli's cock. Slightly wet with saliva lips part just enough for Noah to take an experimental lick across Oli's slit, earning him an intake of breath, almost bordering on a gasp, from Oli.

Noah knows what he's doing - he knows how to slow things down enough to tease his husband and so he trails kisses over the length of Oli's cock and back down again. His breath tickles Oli's skin, draws a shiver down the Brit's spine before suddenly and without warning, Noah takes him into his mouth.

Oli almost chuckles, he knew that no matter how much Noah liked to tease, he also wasn't very good at being patient. He hollows out his cheeks, sucking on the head of Oli's cock or swirling his tongue over it until he hears that first moan resonate deep in Oli's chest and feels Oli's fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his skull. It isn't long before his nose is pressed to Oli's pubic bone and then as quickly as it happens, he pulls back, opening his mouth and letting Oli's dick free. He licks his lips and looks up at Oli mischievously.

“Little fucking tease,” whispers Oli, his voice lust heavy and soft as he lines his dick up to Noah's lips. “Finish what you fucking started,” he growls and Noah's mouth open obediently, seconds before Oli snaps his hips forwards and begins to fuck Noah's mouth.

This high is now his and his alone, head thrown back as he fucks Noah's mouth at an unforgiving pace. “Such a good fucking slut for me,” Oli babbles out praises half coherently as the telltale feelings of pleasure curl in the pit of his stomach. He chases that high until he starts to cum down Noah's throat.

It's unexpected, coming without warning and Noah pulls back, choking on cum and saliva immediately, catching the last ropes of Oli's cum across his face. 

He looks up at Oli, his own cock leaking precum, painfully hard, with tears in his eyes that crest down his cheeks. He's covered in saliva and cum and his mouth drops open in a soft and needy whine as he palms a hand over his erection, wordlessly begging for Oli to give him release.

“Look at you, covered in my seed and the blood of our victims and begging for me to let you cum,” Oli looks almost godly in that moment. He feels like it too. He's played judge, jury, and executioner tonight and now his husband sits on his knees as if in worship, as if he's practically praying to Oli to cum.

Grabbing a discarded, blood covered shirt, Oli pushes Noah to lay back against the floor and Noah obeys. He wraps the still sticky, not yet dry, blood covered shirt around Noah's cock, using someone else's blood almost like lube, and begins to move his hand up and down in a twisting motion. Whimpers leave Noah's lips and Oli watches in dark curiosity as blood gets wiped off on Noah's cock this way. Noah bucks his hips upwards and his own cum spills out, coating the already ruined shirt.

Later, when he's gotten Noah cleaned up and settled into a warm bath, Oli struggles with a dangerous desire to keep the blood and cum ruined shirt as a trophy, but ultimately decides against it, adding it to a burn later pile.

PART THREE: ONE YEAR LATER.

They sit on their couch together, Noah on Oli's lap, wrapped up in his arms as they gaze over the local paper together.

“Sweetheart Killer strikes again,” muses Oli before peppering kisses to Noah's cheek and neck. “What a dangerous town we live in, where they can't even catch a single predator.”

Noah tosses the newspaper to the floor and twists around in Oli's arms until they're face to face and Oli's hands rest securely on Noah's ass. “I heard that the FBI is setting their sights on our little town in hopes to stop this serial killer.” He teasingly grinds down against Oli's crotch, earning a sly smile from him.

All pretense and game is shaken off as Oli slides one hand down the front of Noah's shorts now, giving his soft cock a teasing touch. “I bet we could earn new monikers in different places,” he says, pulling his hand out of Noah's shorts and tapping his index and middle finger against Noah's lips.

Noah opens his mouth and obediently sucks Oli's fingers, swirling his tongue around them as Oli talks. 

“Why don't we shoot for the stars, see how notorious we can become, baby?” He asks and then pulls his saliva covered fingers out of Noah's mouth and dips them back into Noah's shorts. Wet fingers caress Noah's slowly hardening cock. “Make this country think there's an influx of active serial killers, make them fear us, make them pray that we never find them and deem them not worthy of their lives.” 

There's a gleam in Oli's eyes, one that Noah misses as he presses his forehead to Oli's shoulder, shuddering with pleasure at the feel of Oli slowly jacking him off in his shorts. The idea of spreading out their territory is terrifying and fascinating all at once and it doesn't take much before Noah cries out, cumming in his shorts and over Oli's fingers.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Oli chuckles, kissing Noah's head. “Why don't I plan us a vacation, a romantic getaway?” and Noah grins, knowing they're about to take this metaphorical show on the road.

[megamindsupremacy]

Misc PJO Fic Recs (Part 4)

The Stolen God by TsarinaTorment

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

-

Baby Blofis College Fund by zipadeea

Valerie calls her an hour later.

“Sally, what the hell?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Bad? Sally, it’s gold. I went from squirming in my seat to crying genuine tears. And that twist, making him a Greek god, it’s exactly what we’re looking for right now. How soon can you get me the next chapter?”

***

In which Sally Jackson realizes by the time the new baby is eighteen, a semester of college will cost an arm and a leg. And those Fifty Shades of Grey books sure did make a lot of money.

-

to bet on losing dogs by furnaceglow

The thing is,” Apollo said, the coolest prisoner of war in all of time. Prometheus wasn't prone to jealousy, but even he felt a drop of envy at how relaxed Apollo was in maximum security. "How to define a man…are we talking ontology here? That’s broad scope, bigger picture. We can include ourselves in that definition. Philosophy otherwise! Our good man Diogenes. You remember Diogenes! Or are we specifically talking about man for the sake of man? Is this about anthropology, is what I’m saying.” “I’m open to all interpretation,” Prometheus said. “Been a while since I’ve had good conversationalists here. Krios is all grunting, and Hyperion is solely interested in making his quarters nicer.” “Well, he has an eye for interior design, I’ll give him that,” Apollo said.

In which Percy Jackson ascends to a reluctant godhood, his mother loses the war but wins a battle, and for once, Prometheus picks the winning horse.

-

and if your eyes don't speak by Pixelfun20

Estelle Jackson is seven years old when she meets her nephew for the first time, over a grainy Facetime call.

OR

Estelle grew up with stories of Percy Jackson, but it takes meeting his son to realize who he really was.

-

the carriage held but just ourselves by Writeous

The official story is this: Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, just two months shy of their seventh wedding anniversary, hurtle off a cliff on a lonely mountain road. A tragic accident, a sharp turn taken too quickly. Their 2023 Prius was found buried under debris, three hundred feet below where witnesses claim they fell. Paramedics declared them dead upon arrival, suffering blunt force trauma as their car collapsed with them inside.

The real story is this: Percy and Annabeth watch as Hecate’s children create perfect duplicates of them that are promptly hurled off a cliff. Percy loved that Prius.

(Or: at the end of the Titan War, Zeus offered Percy immortality. Percy was mistaken in thinking it was an actual choice.)

-

Dawn Rises From The East by TsarinaTorment

During the Battle of Manhattan, Michael Yew fell into the East River; his body was never found. Two years later, a homeless kid known only as Ferret has a chance encounter that changes everything he knows.

-

Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145

Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit.

Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries.

Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.

-

is it really a crime if you don't exist? by MidnightBunny

"So, what you're saying is," Percy said, staring at the man in front of him. "you're me from the future."

The man took a drink out of the coffee cup in his hand. "Yup."

"And you're here," Percy said slowly. "Because Annabeth's brother's boyfriend is trying to prove the existence of the multiverse."

The man nodded.

"And you got sucked in when he turned it on."

Nod.

"And now you don't know how to get home."

Nod.

"And how did you get sucked in, again?"

The man mumbled something.

"What?"

"I was coming back from the bathroom and opened the wrong door."

-

(I'm so excited this one is back y'all, the author privated all her works but just unprivated them a few weeks back so now I'm recommending you read all of her stuff, especially this fic)

Son of Sea Foam by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

“She’ll never claim me,” he whispered. Silena shook her head, eyes wild as she looked around for anyone who could be watching.

“My mother doesn’t remember half of her children as it is,” she said with a note of bitterness. “If you do something to impress her, it won’t matter. Return the bolt in her name. She’ll claim you if you act the part. If you stay unclaimed then they'll figure out what you really are," she said, squeezing his hands tightly. Percy's heart sped up.

"I - I don't know the first thing about Aphrodite-"

"My mother was born of sea foam," Silena cut him off. "And if you're really who I think you are... you are the sea. You can pull this off," she said and touched his cheek. "Get the bolt. Survive," she said. Percy swallowed.

"What if I can't act the part?" He asked. Silena's expression went blank for a moment. Slowly, she slipped off her bracelet and placed it in his hands.

"If you're going to be one of us... you better learn."

Or

AU where Percy has to hide the fact he's a Big Three kid otherwise he'll be killed on the spot. Unfortunately for him, unclaimed kids tend to raise the most suspicion... but he might have found a loophole in the form of Aphrodite.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Joining in with the group excited about oddduck! - maybe Bruce asking Clark’s permission to take reader to a gala that’s sponsoring something she’s interested in just as a thank you Clark it’s not a date stop looking at me like that

"Hey," Clark said, frowning at the sounds of glasses clinking and people laughing over classical music, "Lois and I were wondering if you were free tonight?"

"I'm a little busy-"

"Oh is the school doing a thing? We could-"

"I'm in Prague, actually."

"Oh with- why?" His frown deepens. Over the phone he can hear your heart kick up and you sound tense.

"I-"

"Y/N?" the deep voice calling your name made Clark freeze for just a second and he almost dropped the phone. "Everything okay?"

"I've gotta go," you tell him, putting your phone back in your bag, "I'll text you."

And when the line goes dead, Clark growls to himself. "That son of a bit-"

"Clark? Is Y/N coming or-"

"She's in Prague," Clark growled, "With Bruce Wayne."

"Oh I hope she wore the red Velvet dress- she looks so pretty in it-"

"Lois."

"Clark," she snorted. "She's a doctor. She's your age. If she wants to go to Prague with a Billionaire who probably read all of her books this week and hangs on her every word... What's it hurt?"

"It's not- he's not-"

"Jesus Christ, Smallville," Lois snorted. "You're not her dad. She doesn't even know her dad-"

"But-"

"If he breaks her heart, you can hold him while I hit him. Until then let her live. What's the worst that could happen? He pays for her to bounce around and follow rabbits down holes to her heart's content? You gotta watch them kiss sometimes? She gets to be loved like she deserves?" Lois smiled a little. "She's stronger than you think she is Clark. And Bruce won't let her get hurt."

__________

"Everything Alright?" Bruce asked, offering you his jacket against the chill.

"Fine," you answer, smiling a little, "I- Clark called and it's usually better to answer. He worries."

"Can't imagine why," Bruce chuckled, "Hard to see what trouble you could get into-"

"Depends," you answer, "I did sprain my ankle at Versailles once and gave myself an appalling cold researching at a castle in Bavaria when I got caught in the rain-"

"Harrowing ordeals indeed-"

"And then there was once where I got kidnapped in Berlin and the time I nearly got arrested in Istanbul. And the Time I did get arrested in London-"

"How?" Bruce asked incredulously, chuckling in disbelief.

"I'm very accident-prone," you tell him, nodding earnestly. "Except for the kidnapping it was mostly just a series of misunderstandings."

Bruce smiled and started to lead you back inside, snagging you a glass of champagne, "I'll have to keep an eye on you then. I'd hate for something to happen before I get to read your next book-"

"You read-"

"Of course I did," he said, cheeks darkening. "Your research and narrative flow really- I mean. I'm just ashamed I didn't read them sooner."

"I- oh- um-"

"How do you do it?" he asked, "make all that so easy to understand?"

You look down, feeling flustered. Embarrassed. And take a deep breath, hoping he wouldn't laugh. "I just tell the stories I wanted to read when I was little." And when he doesn't laugh. When a gentle hand tucks a lock of hair back behind your ear, back out of your eyes, you look up slowly.

"Beautiful and brilliant," Bruce hummed. "Lucky me."

[sleepyfan-blog]

Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-Tallis fic! Previous. Next

Tagged: @the-pure-angel @egrets-not-regrets @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: none? Ask me to tag anything if it bothers you

Summary: you find that the astartes you serve has had an accident of the magical kind.

You had never once dreamed of getting the honor of becoming a serf to one of the mysterious but generally well loved and revered Legiones Astartes. Not even after Lord Tallis had rescued you from the warp storm that had obliterated the ship that you'd served since you’d been born. Not until he'd asked if you wished to stay with him and work alongside him sometimes you were still in just as much awe and uncertainty of the giant, graceful mer you diligently served as the first day that the two of you had met

Other times… Like now, for example, as you silently made your way over to your lord, you wondered internally how he had managed to survive for so long without assistance.

You'd found him in his ritual chamber, spellbook open to some half-finished incantation, laying partially across the runic circle etched into the floor and filled with gold ceramite. The Lord Astartes whom you served directly was clearly passed out as well.

You'd briefly panicked and rushed over to his side, realizing that he was - from tip to tail - half the length of your open palm. You could see the steady rise and fall of his chest as you swiftly knelt down at his side, relief sweeping through you before another wave of concern hit you hard. You called out to him “Lord Tallis, will you permit me to pick you up and take you to the nearest Apothecary?”

You had no idea how he had managed to shrink himself into such a small form - nor why he'd done it. You weren't sure if you wanted to believe that the shrinking had been an accident or unfortunate side effect, or he'd done this to himself on-purpose. Any of those scenarios were equally likely, as you had learned in the time that you had spent serving Lord Tallis.

The thousand son stirred from where he lay prone on the floor, a groan leaving his lips as he used his hands to push himself upright, looking around and then up at you, blinking on confusion and mild alarm “How have you gotten so large? I told my brothers not to cast any spells on you without informing me first and asking you if you'd agree to such a thing. How are you feeling? Amy headaches, hunger, dizziness? How is your sense of balance adjusting to your change in height and mass?”

You suppress the urge to sigh - or grin - and answer “I’m not the one who's changed size, my lord. You are, and I can only guess this happened by magic somehow. I think I need to get you to an Apothecary, to check you over while you try and figure out how this happened.”

He floats up and settles comfortably in your hands, despite the sullen expression that flits across his handsome face. “I'm… Not Entirely sure why I shrunk down to this size. the effect I was trying to create on an inanimate object was to increase its size, not make it smaller.”

You hum in acknowledgement, holding him carefully as you make your way to the infirmary you weren't the only serf assisting the thousand Son they served to the medbay either. One of the astartes was a violent shade of green. Another was hiccupping a steady stream of multi-colored bubbles out of his mouth, nose and ears. A third had somehow caused his fins to change shape and size constantly.

Sorcery was a tricky art to master, especially When practiced within the warp. The fortress world you'd been brought to within the warp was heavily guarded against the larger predators that lurked in the chaotic currents. The Thousand Sons were much more free to practice their sorceries here, rather than put in normal space where the uninformed and terrified hunted them as witches and heretics for using and learning about abilities they were born with.

You were keenly aware of the risks and dangers of warp magic, having seen all sorts of strange and terrifying things. Lord Tallis had offered to drop you off at a relatively stable Imperial Planet of your choice… But he had saved you from certain death or far, far worse. You’d pledged to be in his service until either you died or he was tired of your presence at his side… A boon which he had generously granted. You’d genuinely come to care for Tallis in the months you’d spent dutifully serving him and delighted in the person he was beneath the imposing armor of a space marine.

You waited patiently in the triage line, humming to yourself as you held Tallis close to your chest. At this size, he was cool to the touch, which concerned you as Tallis had always been warm to the touch before this latest magical mishap.

[monsterrae1]

📈📈Fic's stats meme📉📉

Rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @hippolotamus @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life

Most hits:

Till now I always got by on my own (I never really cared until I met you)

After Abby packed her bags and left, Buck felt suffocated by LA and the reminders of her, so he throws himself into his work until Bobby makes him take some vacation time, Buck ends up taking a small roadtrip from Texas to LA, until his jeep breaks down in El Paso and he finds himself pulled to his mechanic and his adorable son, and somehow finds himself staying in Texas trying to help them get a surgery for Chris, when other options don´t work, Buck decides to ask Eddie to marry him so he can use his insurance. Sure things can´t get too complicated right?

Second most kudos:

You're not my homeland anymore (so who am i defending now?)

Buck thought that he and Eddie were in the same page, when Eddie starts dating Ana its very clear that they werent, so whos gonna mend Buck's broken heart?

Third most comments:

Tumblr prompt dumps

Collection of prompts ive answered on my tumblr, figured they could be accesible in one place.

Fourth most bookmarks:

Suddenly thunder and everything's changed

Before Eddie even transferred to the UCLA medical center ER’s rotation Buck was already a house hold name, during Eddie’s very first week he had heard the horror stories about the accident-prone firefighter who had been brough in after a firetruck had crushed one of his legs, had an pulmonary embolism during his recovery, he’d been caught in a tsunami a few weeks after the embolism, and one of the nurses even told Eddie that he had been brought in after chocking on bread and having to have an emergency field tracheostomy while on a date. Eddie thought he was ready to meet the firefighter, he expected some cute dude, charming enough to have all the nurses wrapped around his fingers, he was not ready for the 6’2” Adonis with the most adorable smile he had ever seen that was currently lying on his ER bed with a busted lip. “Mr. Buckley I assume” Eddie said walking to him, Buck nodded at him. “That would be me, have they warned you about me?” * Eddie's the newest ER Doctor in UCLA, he never thought his new beginning would mean he'd fall in love with a firefighter, he never expected the firefighter to be taken away from him by a lightning strike

Fifth most words:

It's the Tumblr prompts dump again

Least words:

Tumblr prompts dump sterek edition

Collection of prompts ive answered on my tumblr, figured they could be accesible in one place, this time for Sterek

Tagging if they wanna do this @brokenribsdiaz @loveyourownsmiilee @cowboy-buddie @buddierights @alyxmastershipper @heartshapedvows @prettyboybuckley @rogerzsteven @bigfootsmom @spotsandsocks @giddyupbuck @jesuisici33 @folk-fae @housewifebuck @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus and whoever else wants to do it!

[archivalofsins]

Lope: Ah, this one is a bit... Well, to say very little I feel a bit bad for them.

Lope's Commencement

Daniel Prisoner 001

Mirelle Prisoner 002

003- Zareth Johnson

Place of birth: Essex, England

Date of birth: 10/12/2010

Age: 13

Ethnicity: Jamaican-Polish

Childish in all the wrong ways, this kid keeps playing various sports despite a sizable lack of proficiency in anything physical. Offended easily, he’s prone to throwing fits when upset. A side note, he managed to get into the guard training room- Perhaps this is enough incentive for the higher ups to allocate us a larger budget…? Unlikely, but we can always dream.

Prisoner Color: #C3FBF4

Permanent record

With a GPA of 2.3, Johnson has had several altercations with his peers. However, he engages in class frequently- particularly in group projects. Not very organized, he has trouble understanding more complex lessons but is willing to accept follow-up explanations.

Suspension notice

Dear Mr and Mrs.Johnson,

We are sending this letter home with Zareth to inform you that he has received a two-week suspension from school due to being involved in a physical altercation. He may return to school on F-

XXXX: Good afternoon this is XXXXX calling to speak to the mother of Zareth Johnson.

Mrs.Johnson: Yes, this is she?

XXXX: Now, I’d like you to remain calm.

Mrs.Johnson: Uh-huh alright I’m calm is there something going on with my son?

XXXX: Yes, there has been an accident at school involving your son.

Mrs.Johnson: And? Are you going to keep beating around the bush or tell me what happened?

XXXX: Well, you see….

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,

Due to the nature of the incident that transpired we will not be rescinding our institution’s decision to expel your son. Our institution recognizes there are many victims in this situation. However, we believe proper consequences were implemented for all parties involved.

We wish Zareth luck in finding an institution more suited to his needs and our offer for recommendations still stands. It would be in the best interests of everyone involved, including Zareth, if this matter was not pursued further.

Best regards,

XXXX

[mk-oc-imagines]

This is legit stuck in my mind so here's a small snippet:

!!!!TW: CHILD LOSS, IMPLIED SEXUAL CONTENT!!!

Reiko knows both women are dangerous. The younger one - she's from his timeline - is prone to sudden mood swings, unpredictable and her subtle manipulation tactics fooled even the Fire God. They are all aware but they can never tell when she does it. Blue eyes full of youthful mischief, becoming crazed when fight, a battle, mindless bloodshed is near.

And yet, it is none of those things that are dangerous, it is the innocence, his Valeria still has, despite everything that happened and what she knows - what was, what is and what will be.

Looking up at the sky, searching for a threat that is not coming, waking up violently from a nightmarish memory, screaming that everything is consumed by fire, yet nothing is burning, always looking for something, asking about invisible threats. She's on edge around certain people, eyes flicking around the room, calculating.

Reiko knew that something is wrong when Valeria would rather jump into the embrace of Havik, than Raiden.

But it doesn't stop her from jumping trough foliage, disappearing for long periods of times into the forest, returning at sunset dirty from mud. She's playing tag with Reptile and Smoke, giggling like a small girl who knows no horror in the world.

His Valeria is young and innocent, yet is troubled and suffering.

Fire God Liu Kang, Reiko thinks bitterly, failed more people than he helped.

The..other Valeria, from different Timeline, is older, wiser and veteran in combat.

Her loyalty to the ones she loves is unwavering and Reiko respects that. She's a fighter, a warrior and rarely loses a fight - wiped the floor with all of them in 'training'. But what makes her dangerous isn't her fighting proves, her strength or swordsmanship. It's the way she can read people, take them apart with words and gestures.

It was an accident when Reiko first saw it, Valeria cornered one of the Lin Kuei - Bi-Han, the Grandmaster - he was leaning away from her touch, yet did not push her away or strike her for her insolence - then she's asking about his family, his father, brothers, mother, sister and Bi-Han tells nothing, until she's smoothing hair out of his face, taking off his mask, cooing softly, like a mother at his son and she's pulling him into a hug and he breaks. They sink to the ground and Reiko can't see if Bi-Han is crying or not, Valeria curling around him like a mother around her son, her brown hair a shielding curtain.

Reiko prides himself in knowing his general, the warriors who raised him - and one night proves him wrong.

Valeria and General Shao are keeping watch and she asks him about his child. "Son or a daughter?"

"The only one I could ever consider a son would be my second in command." Reiko's heart swels with pride but he does not dare to let them know he's aware.

"What about the ghost you see every time you step into the palace, yearning for life that was snatched away from you the moment your child was born?"

General Shao is silent, Valeria presses on. "It was a girl, wasn't it? A daughter. Behind your constructed walls, there is a certain softness that fathers have once their daughters are born."

General Shao sighs and shifts and Reiko can't tell what is going on with his general. "I wanted to have a family. There...was a woman. Who went against the system. We wanted our little family but the Empress was not kind. Snatched our daughter away the moment she was born. Didn't even let us hold her."

"Where were you?"

"Deployed. Far away."

"What happened to your love?"

"Grief killed her."

Reiko's heart clenches, painful and he wants to get up and march back into the Royal Gardens and murder Empress Sindel with his bare hands. Her daughters too if it comes to it. Or not. Kill her daughters and let her experience the grief that many parents had that had their daughters snatched away the moment they were born.

There's more shifting and he can hear his General inhale sharply. "It never goes away, does it? The pain. The want for a family. A normal life. It consumes us, until it destroys us."

"You know awfully lot, woman."

"I'm a mother of three myself , General Shao. Although I know....one of my children is safe and sound as much as she can be, I lost my two firstborns. Twins."

There's another beat of silence and more shuffling. Reiko is afraid to open his eyes in fear what he could see.

"If I could, I would carry your child."

She's dangerous because she takes people apart, studying them closely in what makes them tick and she's gentle, oh so gentle in what she does, knows that if she does one wrong move, they'll fall apart.

It's the way she moves above him, gently rolling her hips, gentle, experienced fingers running over his chest - he's gasping as if there's not enough air in his lungs, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes and when they spill, she wipes them away.

Valeria is cooing and singing praise but even she couldn't resist the pleasure, soft sounds escaping her, body arched and he can't help the sob that escapes him, finding his release. Valeria is gentle as she cleaned him up, peppering him with gentle kisses.

Reiko feels like he betrayed General Shao.

This Valeria is more dangerous than his Valeria.

Brown eyes have no guild in them, arms crossed, acting as if nothing has happened, as if just a hallway down, there isn't an Earthrealmer writhing in pain, the Dragon Lord being sealed away in the mortal's chest.

Her two companions aren't any better, the Shadow being ice cold as usual, the older actor - by the Elder Gods how could he let this happen? - there's a little bit of guild but otherwise, nothing.

Fire God is the one who leads Valeria away, wanting to discuss urgent matters, it is only then that Reiko approaches the older actor - he notes that they are not very different, this Johnny Cage is juts older and more mature.

"Why?"

And he smiles, melancholy in his eyes and Reiko sees how tired he is. "I got used to it too. Onaga is no longer screaming in my head. He's easier to bear now."

And Reiko wants to know more, so he asks again, even though he shouldn't. "Why?"

"It proved to work before. Why wouldn't she try again?"

And Reiko's blood runs cold - they all fell into her trap, carefully woven cobweb of motherly love, gentleness and everything and Reiko prays to every other God if they are out there - do not let his Valeria become whatever this woman is, otherwise they all will be in even greater danger than they are now.

(If anyone has any questions and something to say, don't be afraid to hit me up in my inbox)

[fiction-giga]

Boo-Boo's

30 Day Blurb Challenge - list link here

Day 18 - Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.

Dad!Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Warnings - Just some clumsy kids

Word Count - 0.7k

Special thanks goes out to my sister @ches-86 for helping me out! <3

You had always thought that Delilah would have been the worst kid when it came to being accident prone. She was clumsy, constantly falling over her own feet and tripping over small lifts in the rug. You thought she was as bad as it got, that was until you had Rowan.

Rowan was a carbon copy of his father. When Delilah stood next to her brother you were able to see some features on her face that resembled yours, something you weren't able to notice when it was just her.

Rowan's legs and arms were constantly bruised and scuffed. He tended to play rougher than to other kids, even more than his sister. He always looked like he had just walked right out some battle.

On his first day of preschool you were getting pulled to the side while trying to pick him, the teacher expressing her intense concern for the young boy. You reasoned with her, telling her that he practically came out of the womb with bruises.

You were enjoying some quality time with Eddie in the living room when you heard a ka-thunk from outside.

"Ow," Rowan whimpered following the mysterious noise.

You and Eddie paused mid-conversation, waiting to see if it was an emergency or something that could be dusted off.

"Mama!" You heard Delilah call for you. Both you and Eddie jumped into action, throwing the screen door open to find Delilah standing over Rowan who was splayed out in a starfish position in the grass.

"What happened?" You asked the young girl as you hauled Rowan up in your arms, Eddie coming behind you to check on the small boy.

"We were playing tag and he tripped over the hose." She explained.

You looked down at the ground below to find the culprit you had meant to put away a few hours ago. The hose.

This was not the first time this had happened and you were sure it wouldn't be the last. With your forgetfulness combined with Rowan's clumsiness, disaster was bound to strike at some point.

"Okay, you okay bud?" You asked your son, trying to soothe him with small little sways side-to-side. His face was tucked into your neck, his dark hair rubbing against your cheek. You tried to get a look at his face but he was cuddled up too close.

"Rowan," Eddie reassures him. He responded this time, popping his head out of your neck to look at his father. He cracked a little smile at the concerned look on Eddie's face.

Dramatic, just like his father.

"You little-c'mere!" Eddie laughed as he hauled Rowan out of your arms and into his, tickling him ruthlessly. The boy squirmed and giggled as he kicked at anything he made contact with.

"Daddy stop!" He yelped breathlessly. Eddie eased up on him, holding him with his small back leaning against his father's chest. He was now facing you, a smile stretching across his face as he looked up at you with those damn doe eyes. Those genetics must be strong as hell.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay momma." He giggled, finally answering your question. You felt Delilah cling onto your leg, your hand running absentmindedly through her locks. You spotted the forming bruise at the peek of his knee. You rubbed your thumb gently over the red spot. Rowan whined in response.

"Sorry," You smiled an apologetic smile up at him, leaning down to kiss his grass stained skin. "There," You smiled at Rowen. Above, Eddie was beaming at the sight of you being so gentle with the kids. "All better now."

Rowen's arms shot out and wrapped around your neck before you could go too far. You went wide eyed, staring up at Eddie as his tongue poked out between his lips in concentration as he tried not to drop his son. Rowen's little arms wrapped around you tightly, almost suffocating you with his sweet display of love.

Eddie grunted as he hoisted Delilah up on his hip, her arms wrapping around his neck too.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news here, but it's almost bedtime." He tried to whisper, unsuccessfully.

"No!" Rowen and Delilah whined.

"We have to! You got school in the morning!" Eddie matched their whining with his own pleas. "But hey, you know what comes before bedtime?" He asked the two younglings.

They both remained silent.

"Baths!"

"Ugh!"

[subterra-rose]

AITA for reminding my uncle of his dead brother?

For context, I [16M] am basically my uncle’s [60?M] adoptive son after our family died in a tragic accident before I was born. My uncle has a very stressful and important job and has many other people under his command. Due to this, he’s prone to outbursts and sometimes we get into arguments that escalate when I attempt to help him. However, he wasn’t born where we live and wants to visit home again eventually. He has raised and housed me for as long as I remember and given me many opportunities to better myself.

He’s always told me that the Titan has plans for me, I just have to be diligent. He’s been nostalgic for home recently and has been working me harder than ever. He never really told me a lot about our family or the accident that killed them except how they passed and seems to get upset when I ask him about it.

Recently, we got into a disagreement that was aggravated by my friends and I left his care. During this altercation, he was upset and said he “only wanted to help me.” I accused him of lying and in his anger, he called me by his brother’s (my dead father’s?) name. I am currently staying at a friend’s house, so I am safe for now. My friends think he exerted too much control over my life and he wanted to use me. I have to agree to some extent, and in my opinion it seems like he wanted me to be the person his brother could’ve been. Maybe we could’ve gone about this another way, but I don’t know how to feel right now, AITA?

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Riding Accident

Catherine of Aragon x son/daughter!reader (Platonic!!!)

Learning to ride your own horse had been something that you had pestered your mother, Queen Catherine, on for an entire year. Finally, both she and His Majesty had relented. Your father, King Henry, had realised that it was important for his heirs to learn such a skill so that they mastered it early on.

You had been having lessons alongside your older sister, Princess Mary, for a few weeks now. Both of you were progressing well, to the point that you were both riding through the grounds of the palace unassisted, with only your riding instructors seated on their own horses trotting along by your sides.

Mary and her instructor were progressing through Hampton Court grounds much more quickly than you were with your instructor, which perhaps was a blessing for Mary’s sake considering the events that soon followed.

There was to be a grand celebration for the next couple of days, and servants and courtiers alike were preparing a huge bonfire that was to be the centrepiece of the outside entertainment. However, the bonfire had been accidentally set alight too soon, and the fire was quickly rising up the firewood just as you were passing on your horse.

Your steed, Courageous, was not so brave as their name suggested, and was spooked by the fire. They bolted quickly through the grounds, and you didn’t know how to make Courageous stop or slow down. You screamed for help, but no one was able to reach you in time. Too soon, you were unable to hold on any longer and you were thrown off the horse, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground.

A chorus of “Your Highness!” and “Your Grace!” rang out as some of the courtiers ran to your aid, and others tried to retrieve Courageous. Catherine had been watching you and Mary ride through the grounds from a window, smiling to herself with pride for you both. So, when she saw your horse bolt she rushed down outside immediately.

She rushed through the crowds gathering around you lying prone on the ground, scooping up the layers of her kirtle as she knelt down by your side. Instantly, Catherine established complete control of the situation. After all, there was no shortage of people to help. “Duke Suffolk, keep Princess Mary away from this accident. Ensure she is properly occupied.” The Duke bowed, and then rushed off to find your sister and her riding instructor. Catherine did not want to distress Mary by letting her see you injured thus, especially considering her daughter’s delicate health. The two of you siblings were very close, and she knew Mary would be upset if she knew what happened.

“Cardinal, send for the physician to be brought to my chambers.” Catherine ordered, not even looking at the people she was instructing. “At once, Your Grace.” The Cardinal left in the opposite direction, his robes billowing behind him.

Catherine softly stroked your hair, looking up to the sky to pray that you would be alright. She tried her best to check you over for injuries, but it was difficult to tell when your attire covered most of you. “Sé fuerte, Y/N.” The Queen whispered into your ear, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead, before she noticed a shadow form over you.

Looking up she found the Spanish Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, kneeling down beside you. “Your Highness, please allow me to assist.” He held his hands out, gesturing towards you. “I thank you, Ambassador.” Gently, Catherine handed you over to Chapuys, standing in time with him as he picked you up. She made sure your head was safely in the crook of his elbow, stroking your head one more time before stepping back in order to escort the ambassador to her chambers.

Once they had managed to get you tucked into the grand bed, the physician was announced and entered the room. Catherine sat beside you while he examined you, holding your hand in hers and squeezing it every so often. “It is a miracle that this accident was not worse,” the physician began, getting the Queen’s attention. “Nothing has been broken, thankfully. The cuts and bruises will soon heal in time with good care and rest…” He paused, closing the pouch which held his medical supplies. “But…?” Catherine prodded, glancing at your unconscious state with a frown. “Well, the head injury is serious. I will need to monitor the situation to see if there is any improvement.” The physician stood and bowed to your mother before heading towards the door. “I shall return in a few hours. In the meantime, the usual remedies should be administered.”

The Queen allowed her ladies-in-waiting to tend to your minor ailments, but since she refused to move away from your bedside Catherine was in the way. No one dared to tell her so, however. “Ambassador,” one of the ladies, Mistress Anne Boleyn, finally broke the silence. “If His Majesty is not already aware, he should be informed.” Chapuys hesitated for a second, glancing at the Queen to seek her permission to leave. He did not take orders from that ‘putain’. Catherine slowly nodded her head, and so he bowed before leaving to tell the King what had happened to you.

The other ladies-in-waiting were still tending to a cut on your leg, but Anne dipped some cloth into a bowl and reached up to tend to the wound on your head. “No.” Catherine pushed her hand away, before placing both hands on your shoulders, shielding you from any interference. “But Your Grace-” Anne tried to argue, but Catherine held her hands out to take the bowl and cloth. Anne relinquished her grip, bowing her head before moving away from you. “I shall tend to this myself.” The Queen began cleaning your wound so tenderly, as if she was afraid that you would break under her touch.

The next hour was in tense silence. Catherine held her prayer book in her hands, praying that you would be well, as tears rolled down her cheeks. Eventually, voices could be heard outside, and the ladies-in-waiting stopped in their tracks. “His Majesty, the King.” The announced arrival was the only thing that had persuaded Catherine to move away from you, as she stood waiting to receive her husband.

“Let me see my child,” Henry’s voice rang out clearly, as he purposefully strode into the room. Catherine placed her prayer book down on the bedside table, rushing towards the King with fresh tears in her eyes. “Oh, Henry…” Catherine clasped his wrist with her hands, her head bowed. His worry matched hers, and though he was fighting for their annulment, he made no resistance to her touch, instead clasping her hands in his own. Together they sat by your side, Henry gently kissing your forehead, Catherine sadly stroking your cheek.

You were beginning to be vaguely aware of their touch, of their presence. A soft whimper escaped you, as you slowly moved your head towards them. “Y/N?” Your eyes fluttered in response, before you reopened them fully. The faces of your parents swam into view, glancing at each other with a relieved smile. Their child was okay. “Mama? Papa?” You murmured, your eyes filling with tears. “We’re here, you’re safe.” Henry squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips before giving your hand to Catherine.

“I must return to the celebrations.” The King announced, standing up abruptly. “I expect every care to given to Y/N so that they can recover quickly.” A chorus of “Yes, Your Majesty” rang out as he left Catherine’s chambers.

Catherine pressed her forehead to your own, cupping your cheek in her hands, and you smiled gratefully up at her. She could not have beared to lose you or Mary. She would win in the Great Matter for both of your sakes.

[kingworm]

got to ask: what is the story for the zagreus persphone au??

ah thanks! obviously it’s a bit self indulgent and not really canon compliant or whatnot, but here is the run down of my scattered thoughts:

persephone still runs away after zag is confirmed still born, only once nyx revives him she bundles him up & sends him off with charon (babey zag on the boat) once the boat reaches the surface persephone assumes she’s been caught — but then sees her baby! alive and well :)

i was interested in the ‘hades doesn’t have an heir’ thing, so i thought maybe persephone picking up a baby zag and declaring ‘you will be my heir’ imbues something into him. like the declaration of that allows him to survive on the surface of her cottage without dying. he gets more of a human-tan to his skin, his eyes are that little bit more human-like, and he catches on that his blood is actually amazing plant fertiliser lol (how he found out? he is still just, incredibly accident prone)

the catch is that he still can’t move further than her cottage without dying, which inevitably has him frustrated and restless about the origins of his birth. i thought maybe he somehow encounters thanatos on the surface, which sparks curiosity for both himself and than. i feel like persephone would tell zag bits and pieces, but not much, definitely mentioning cerberus (affectionate) and briefly hades (degrogatory)

my add-on is that one day he wonders out of the cottage, prepared to die once again, but realises it hasn’t happened yet (the closer he gets to hades the less likely he is to die) he eventually stumbles upon the gates and can’t help but go up to it. i feel like he’d try to open the doors, maybe knock, and then as a final last attempt (remembering his mother briefly mentioning cerberus guarded the gate) he calls for cerberus, mentioning that he is ‘zagreus, son of persephone’, the door opens and he’s tackled down by a giant and excitable three headed dog who has missed him plenty :)

[scarscraftingdead]

my overarching life series hc is that the loop interacts directly with the players bonds with each other. this shows up most prominently with double life (soulmates share features such as jewelry or clothing/hairstyles) but i think how i hc it would show up with the clockers in limited life is the most interesting.

as soon as the familial bond is established between cleo, bdubs, scar, and (to a certain extent) etho the world bends around them. suddenly scar and bdubs are half undead, born with body parts too green and sickly to be alive. bdubs snow white hair becomes something inherited from his dad, and scars brunette hair becomes white at the roots, a sign he has been dying it out of a distaste of its origin.

bdubs has more traits reminiscent of etho then cleo, he admires his dad and it’s prominent in his clothing. his shirt is solid white and his black pants are ripped and worn, the colors prominent in his fathers outfit and the shoddiness possibly from bdubs scrapping with others like his pvp god dad. even his bandana could be seen as an homage to his father’s, a son copying a man he so clearly holds dear. unlike etho, however, his clock is on full display across his chest. he wears it with pride, much like his mother and brother, and isn’t afraid of displaying it.

scar takes after cleo more as well, his clothing displays the same vibrant colors and almost 80s style. much like bdubs, scar’s adoration for his favorite parent is shown clearly in his design. scar’s, well… scars, are personally something i find being unchanging in all of his designs but along with that is stitches accompanied with green undead bits of flesh. scar is accident prone, what’s a mother to do if her son blows his hand off in yet another failed trap? i see scar’s hair being a more orangey brown, clearly dyed from its previous crisp white color. scars clock is around his waist, easy to reach for in times of turmoil. (i imagine whenever he feels lost or unsure, he fiddles with the hands of the clock to ground himself back into reality)

cleo is the family’s matriarch, headstrong and willing to do whatever it takes to keep her boys safe from danger and her estranged husband. cleo and etho are polar opposite in design, where etho is all saturated and muted tones cleo thrives on vibrant colors. the only exception to this is their worn and sunken in, the price of being practically a single mother of two chaotic boys (her eyes are the only way to tell if it’s cleo or gem piloting her body). besides this her entire style of attire is colorful and fun, contrasting her typically no nonsense attitude. (i honestly don’t have much to say for hcs on cleo’s design because i love her limited life skin so much oh my god)

etho is who i have the least to say about design wise because at his core he isn’t a clocker, not truly. he’s estranged from cleo, and by proxy his two sons. he’s a part of team ties through and through. this reflects in his design, his attire being more in line with the other members of his team. the only thing separating this however, is ethos clock. it’s undeniably broken, the hands have long stopped turning and the glass has been scuffed and damaged beyond repair, but he wears it as a necklace under his shirt. he wears it as a reminder of his disowned family, of the life he’s left by playing the role of absent father. a symbol of hope that maybe, one day, he can go to the clock tower and show his family that he’s kept it and them close to his chest.

[snowviolettwhite]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the lovely @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

From chapter two of: "little boy don't you cry, cause the child in you is still alive" My 9-1-1: Lone Star Early 2010s AU With Fourteen-Year-Old Tk moving to Austin, Texas with his dad Owen.

Tk is wearing his slightly oversized black and white striped sweater that has a tiny, embroidered patch reading rock ‘n’ roll with his dark washed skinny jeans.

He is sitting at the kitchen island swinging his legs back and forth, he is finishing his breakfast while Owen has an incoming phone call and packing lunch for Tk. “Yes, I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I just can’t talk right now. I need to get my kid to school.”

Tk could not make out who has on the other line or what they were saying but his dad let out a soft somewhat strained chuckle, “yeah, the little firefighter in training, not so little anymore.”

Owen and Gwyn and Enzo are still hoping Tk outgrows the firefighter phase. They do not want their sweet sensitive but extremely stubborn quick-tempered and accident-prone son becoming a firefighter.

Owen has seen firsthand people who he loved to lose their lives, dying on the job. Gwyn once being married to a firefighter; she constantly worried and still worries Owen would not make it home. She does not Tk to lose his dad.

She has seen the physical and emotional toll it takes on a person, the kind of trauma and damage that kind of job causes. Sometime Owen wonders if 9/11 never happened maybe they would still be one big happy family. Him and Gwyn would have never gotten divorced, he would have been overtaken by grief and neglected his family.

I tag, no pressure: @paperstorm @wheelerthefroghere @anewkindofme

@whataboutthefish @hopelessromanfic @serendipitous-magic

@bunny-lou @mylesimeblr @unsurpassedtravesty @actualalligator

@whaddaman

Happy New Year Eve, Everyone :)