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demons-and-demigods · 6 months

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Demons and Demigods Part Ten: Written Scene #6: The Hunt for Victory

Here it is! This will probably be the last part for a little bit while I get some more writing done as this'll pretty much get us caught up to what I had written before starting this blog.

Now, this part starts out kind of hand-wavey transition-y, but it's not enough to warrant its own post and it gets into proper writing pretty quick. This is probably the longest part yet, so be prepared. I also had some fun with making Percy a little eldritched in this one, hope you like it!

To return to our demigods, they’ve dealt with the ghosts and shit in Ithaca, Annabeth was antsy the whole time being away from Percy, Jason had his ‘oh look, I’ve been impaled’ moment, they met Hera who told them to subdue Nike, they got back to the ship to find that Percy had exploded all the plumbing while anxiously pacing the deck waiting for them to get back. Annabeth immediately went to his side to help them both calm down while Piper helped Jason down to the infirmary. Leo is cursing in Spanish somewhere within the bowels of the ship about Percy exploding the plumbing. Frank is hanging out with Percy and Annabeth to help them regulate again now that they’re back together and Hazel is helping Piper with Jason.

They set out for Olympia, and everyone is lowkey freaking out about Jason having been impaled and trying to figure out how to help him. Jason is annoyed with everyone hovering over him but too exhausted to do anything about it.

Finally, they’ve reached Olympia, about to face Nike and shit. They try to figure out who to send that Nike won’t be able to immediately pitch at each other’s throats. They’ve decided four of them need to go, two Greek and two Roman to hopefully help balance the unstable goddess. Percy and Jason shouldn't both go together, the Poseidon/Jupiter rivalry is pretty strong and they both already almost killed each other in that Kansas cornfield so it’d be best to avoid a repeat of that. Piper shouldn’t go because Nike, all about victory and competition, might see her as a threat because of Aphrodite also being about competition in a way. Annabeth and Frank probably shouldn’t go together since Athena and Mars don’t exactly get along either. That pretty much makes their decision for them, leaving them with two team options: Leo, Percy, Hazel, and Frank, or Annabeth, Leo, Jason, and Hazel.

Jason is still dealing with his Impalement Predicament, so that also knocks out the Annabeth/Jason/Leo/Hazel team.

Neither Percy nor Annabeth are happy with this. They’re still fresh outta Tartarus, and they have not been handling it well if the other is out of sight for very long (see the exploded plumbing when Annabeth went to the palace in Ithaca and Percy had to stay on the ship). They get jumpy and anxious, quicker to snap, sitting on a hair-trigger of violence, ready to lash out at any moment.

Nobody is sure that splitting them up for an unknown amount of time and keeping them probably miles away from each other is a good idea, but it’s the only option they’ve got.

So they split up to get ready to face Nike.

Percy and Annabeth wait on the deck for the others to gather what they need. While they wait, Percy and Annabeth try to prepare themselves for being separated. They stood silently, foreheads pressed together as they breathed slowly, soaking up the other’s presence. They squeezed each other’s hands tightly, slowly opening their eyes and pulling back slightly to just look at each other for a moment.

Percy soaked in the way Annabeth’s hair glittered in the morning sun, her blonde made gold and her streak of gray turned silver, as her curls just barely brushed her shoulders when they swayed in the gentle breeze. She had started to regain her natural tan and freckles dusted her cheeks. Some of the weight she’d lost in the Pit had returned, but she was still painfully thin. Her gray eyes met his and she stared at him just like she always had, picking him apart with her mind and gazing into his soul. Her lips, no longer cracked and bleeding from dehydration, were full and pink again as they quirked up in a small smile.

Annabeth let her eyes rove across Percy’s face, committing every detail to memory. His inky raven hair stood in stark contrast to the still too pale color of his skin and his streak of gray made nearly white in comparison. There were new scars scattered across his face, little white lines among jagged red ones still trying to heal. His eyes were as bright and vivid as ever, watching her as they always did, filled with a depth of warmth and love that always left her breathless. He smiled softly down at her, and she loved the way one just-too-pointy tooth poked over his bottom lip. She reached up with one hand to cradle his jaw and he leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

She resettled her hands on his waist as he reached up to cup her face. His hands were rough with calloses built from years of sword work, but his touch was gentle on her skin. He leaned down and kissed her brow, letting his lips linger there for a moment before pulling away.

He took a half-step back and reached one hand over the railing and an orb of water floated up to his palm. He looked at it and tilted his head, and the water began to shape itself in his hand until a miniature guinea pig hovered there. He squinted his eyes and it turned to ice. He broke out into a wide grin. He grabbed one of Annabeth’s hands and placed the little ice figure in it.

“Here,” he said softly. “Now, even though I’m in the city, I’ll still be right here with you.”

Annabeth gave him her patented ‘Percy, what the fuck are you talking about’ look, but he just smiled, waiting for her to get it. She squinted at the ice guinea pig, assessing it, before her eyes widened in realization and she laughed. She’d almost forgotten. The little ice figure looked exactly like Percy had when he’d been turned into a guinea pig by Circe when they were thirteen, right down to the indignant expression on his little rodent face and the spikey mess of his fur.

“It won’t melt. Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t melt, anyway.” He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “But, y’know, I thought it might help.” he ducked his head as his cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, Seaweed Brain. I love it,” she laughed, and leaned in to kiss him. “Here,” she said, carefully setting down guinea-Percy and reaching up to unclasp her camp necklace to put around Percy’s neck instead. She smiled, settling the beads, her father’s college ring, and the coral pendant Percy had given her against his breast. The leather cord of her necklace was longer than his own, so they layered easily enough. “Now, even though I’m on the boat, I’ll still be right there with you as you take on Nike.” She patted his chest and her grin sharpened. “And remember, we need her. Don’t get carried away, okay?”

Percy gave her a shark-like grin. “Of course, Wise Girl. We’ll bring her back alive. Can’t promise that she’ll be in one piece, though.”

“Uh,” someone said, and Percy and Annabeth both turned their heads to see Leo staring at them with wide eyes. “I didn’t hear anything,” he said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. “I heard nothing about you guys casually talking about potentially maiming or killing a goddess. Nope. Wait, is that a guinea pig ice sculpture? Where did that come from?”

Percy and Annabeth both just laughed.

A few minutes later, the others arrived on deck ready to go. 

Percy and Annabeth shared one last kiss before Percy disappeared into the city with Leo. 

Leo, who’d held a healthy dose of fear for Percy since the whole eidolon-possession-firing-on-Camp-Jupiter thing, was not ashamed to admit that that ‘fear’ had morphed into full-blown terror now. Like, Percy had always been a little scary. He was insanely powerful, even for a demigod kid of the Big Three, and he was scary good with a sword. At a glance, Percy looked like the type of kid that would have beat the shit out of Leo behind the school. He was tall and made of pure muscle with weird scars covering almost every inch of exposed skin. His eyes were unnervingly bright, his gaze intense in a way that made Leo feel like he was staring into his soul. He had the meanest rbf Leo had ever seen, and it somehow paled in comparison to the nightmare that Percy’s face became when he was actually angry. 

After spending some time with the guy, though, Leo had been able to relax around him. Percy was super down-to-earth for someone who’s supposedly done some rather insane stuff, and he was funny. He was laid back and always willing to help out. He was smarter than he let on, too, Leo had noticed. He was more than handy to have in a fight and honestly, he was weirdly easy to talk to. 

That is, until they got him and Annabeth back from the Pit. Something had changed in both of them down there, which was understandable. But . . . it was terrifying. Leo could feel that something was different about Percy, about his powers. His instincts screamed at him that Percy was dangerous, like a wild animal or a cornered beast. When Percy entered a room, Leo’s senses went on high alert, he was hyper aware of everything going on around him, desperate to keep Percy in a good mood. It was stressful. 

Part of Leo felt bad for being so afraid of Percy now. Percy and Annabeth needed support from their friends and Percy had never been anything but kind and friendly to Leo since they sorted out the eidolon thing. But he couldn’t help it. 

So, now, going into the city with Percy, alone, Leo was barely able to stop himself from freaking out. Especially after hearing Percy and Annabeth on the ship, joking about not getting carried away and making sure to bring a goddess back in one piece. Like, what the fuck. Leo had never questioned whether Percy could take on a god and come out on top, he’d just also known that Percy never would. Now, however, Leo had the feeling that it was less a matter of ‘would’ and more a matter of ‘when.’ 

Anyway, they’re wandering around Olympia, trying to find Nike, and Leo is just, so nervous. So nervous. Percy is just strolling along, hands in his pockets, chill as can be, and Leo is fighting hard not to run away screaming. Leo knows that Percy knows that he’s acting weird, and he knows that Percy knows he knows that he knows, and etc. But Percy is just too nice to bring it up, so Leo doesn’t bring it up either and they continue wandering around awkwardly while neither of them acknowledges the weird tension between them. 

It’s a stressful time. 

After wandering for a while, Leo and Percy sat down on a bridge that spanned some river or other and dangled their feet over the edge while they waited for Frank and Hazel to meet up with them.

Leo really wished they would hurry up. 

Look, he’d already mentioned how nervous Percy made him, but he figured it bears repeating because at that moment? It was just downright eerie. Percy stared intently at the river below them, his eyes a perfect mirror of the rippling water. Before the Fall, Percy had been a lot like Leo, always moving and trying to fill the silence. Since he and Annabeth had come back, though, it was different. Percy was quiet, he didn’t talk as much anymore and moved silently. He would sit, eerily still, so still that Leo could swear that he didn’t blink or even breathe, and always with this glazed sort of look in his eyes, like his mind had left the building or something. Despite that, though, Leo was under no illusions that Percy was still hyperaware of his surroundings. 

Leo wanted to say something, anything, to break the awkward, tense silence between them. But what the Hades do you talk about with a guy who just clawed his way out of Hell and had no doubt faced unspeakable horrors? It’s not like he could go, ‘hey, did you catch the new episode of Dr Who? Oh wait, sorry, you were fighting for your life through the Pit of Eternal Damnation.’ I mean, come on. Talk about insensitive. 

Leo was just gearing up to say something stupid, probably like ‘nice weather we’re having today’ or something equally as idiotic, when Percy spoke up first. 

“You met her, didn’t you? Calypso.” 

Leo whipped his head around to stare at Percy with wide eyes so fast, he probably gave himself whiplash. “H-how did you—” he sputtered. 

Percy shrugged, still staring at the river. “Someone mentioned that you’d gotten blasted off the ship and disappeared for a few days only to come back looking healthier than ever in clothes that were suddenly fireproof.” He shrugged again, and finally turned his piercing gaze from the river to meet Leo’s eyes. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.” He shook his head and sighed, looking back at the water. “I guess that means the gods broke another of their promises.” 

Leo wanted to be mad at Percy for promising to find a way to break her out and then not following through, but Percy’s comment gave him pause. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard stories about the Titan War and the Battle of Manhattan,” Percy started. “Most of them were probably exaggerated, especially if they were about me. But one thing you might have heard that wasn’t exaggerated, was that after Luke sacrificed himself to kill Kronos and the war was won, the gods offered me a reward. They offered me immortality. And I turned them down.” 

Leo’s eyes widened. He’d heard about that, sure, but he’d just assumed it was the other kids pulling his leg; like some sort of hazing ritual or something, trying to convince the new kid of something ridiculous so they could all laugh at him when he believed them. 

“Instead, I told the Olympian Council to be better parents.” Percy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fat lot of good that did. I told them to claim their kids and make sure they made it to camp by age thirteen. There were four months between the end of the war and Hera’s bullshit, and I get my memory back and find that two sixteen-year-old demigods had not been led to camp or claimed until after I’d gone missing.” Percy let out a low snarl and Leo shuddered. “That’s strike one.” he scowled down at the river that seemed to be reacting to his anger as it foamed and bubbled. “How many other demigods are out there, that should have been led to camp and claimed but haven’t been? If Aphrodite and Hephestus, two gods on the Olympian Council, and powerful ones at that, have already failed to do so, how many children of minor gods have slipped through the cracks too?” 

The sky darkened above them, and Leo felt the air grow cold and damp, surrounded by the feeling you got right before a big, coastal storm rolled in. The river below them swirled, and a quick glance towards what Leo could see of the beach from where they sat showed that the sea was affected, too. Waves crashed into the shore with large white caps and the boats in the marina rocked dangerously on the suddenly choppy water. 

Percy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and the water calmed as the sky cleared, returning them to the bright, sunny day they’d been having before. 

Percy continued like he hadn’t just almost caused a tropical storm. 

“I also made them promise to free Calypso from her island.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I should have known better than to trust that they’d do it. I had four months to check that they had followed through on their promises, and I didn’t.” He shook his head and let out a derisive scoff. “I can’t exactly blame her for being angry, but I’m not going to forgive her for what she did, either.” Percy clenched his fists and took a few more deep breaths. “Strike two.” Percy lifted his gaze to the sky and glared. “Honestly, I’m not fighting for them. The gods can go get fucked for all I care. The only reason that I’m fighting this war is to protect my friends and family. At the moment, the gods are the lesser of two evils. Compared to Gaea and her Giants, the gods are almost harmless. But one of these days, they’re going to stop being the lesser of two evils, and I’m going to stop protecting them by way of protecting those I care about.” 

Leo held his breath, his heart thundering in his chest. He was a little amazed that Percy hadn’t been hit by lightning or otherwise smote {smitted?) for talking like that. Percy finally looked up from the roiling river and locked his gaze on Leo, his eyes full of steely promise and Leo heard nothing but the truth in his next words. 

“They have one more chance to get their shit together before I stop playing nice. They’ve already hurt my family enough. One more mistake, and they won’t live to hurt them again.” 

Leo gulped.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to respond by the arrival of Frank and Hazel.

When they shared that they hadn’t had any luck finding the goddess either, Leo sighed.

“Well,” he said, standing up and brushing off his pants. “I guess we just start wandering around together and let trouble find us. It’s always worked before.”

Percy, too, got to his feet and stretched before shrugging. “Might as well. Come on, let’s go see the sights.”

The four of them meandered through Olympia, visiting ancient ruin after ancient ruin, each pile of rubble as impressive as the last. Which is to say, not very. Frank had a tourist map/guide thing that he used to lead them around and point out ‘interesting’ stuff.

They looked around for hours, but still nothing. Leo, for one, was ready to call it a day and get back to the ship. He could tell that being away from Annabeth for so long was really taking its toll on Percy, too, though he hid it well. He figured it wouldn’t take much provocation for Percy to snap and he wanted to avoid that at pretty much all costs.

He was just about to suggest they head back to the ship and pick up the search again tomorrow, when something Frank said made him stop.

They were at the ruins of an old temple of Zeus, and Leo thought he recognized it from somewhere.

“Hey, Percy,” he said, turning to the son of Poseidon. “That Nike statue we saw in the museum, the one in a bunch of pieces,” he gestured at the temple ruins. “Didn’t it use to stand here?”

Percy tilted his head and studied the ruins. “Yeah, it used to be inside before the temple started crumbling and the locals moved it to the museum to try and prevent further damage to it.”

“That makes this as good a place for her to be hanging out as any, right?” Leo asked, feeling his energy return a little at the prospect of maybe, finally finding the goddess they’d spent most of the day searching for.

Frank and Hazel traded glances and shrugged.

“I don’t see why not,” Hazel said.

“Alright, but if she is here, how do we draw her out? Promote Adidas shoes?” Percy said, crossing his arms and scanning around them consideringly.

Hazel gave him a confused look, and Frank cracked a smile. Leo snorted.

“Yeah, I bet that’s totally against her sponsorship deal,” he said, faux serious. “Those are not the official shoes of the Olympics! You will now die!” he shouted in a terrible falsetto. Percy laughed and Leo grinned. It had been too long since he’d seen Percy joke around and smile like that.

Then, a thundering voice said from behind them, “YOU WILL NOW DIE!”

Hazel squeaked and a horde of precious stones popped up around her, Frank yelped and poofed into a bulldog, and Leo’s pretty sure he let out a rather girly scream and jumped about a foot in the air.

Percy, however, had Riptide in his hand and was swinging his sword with a nasty snarl on his face before the rest of them had even reacted.

Leo watched in morbid fascination as Percy swung his sword in a glowing bronze blur at who had to be Nike. The goddess flapped her massive golden wings and jumped into the air, hovering just out of reach of Percy’s sword. Percy growled low in his throat and dropped into a crouch as Nike glared down at him.

“How dare you try to attack me, you insolent child!” the goddess cried.

Leo bit back the urge to make a snarky comment in defense of his friend, figuring it would only land them in more trouble, but it seemed that Hazel had no such compunctions.

“Hey! You’re the one who went and snuck up on a traumatized demigod teen who just escaped the Pit,” she said sternly, one hand on her hip and the other pointed accusingly at Nike’s face. “Don’t you go blaming him for reacting violently to something like that. He just spent who knows how long in a place where letting someone get the drop on you was a death sentence. If I’ve learned one thing about this time, it’s that we do not victim blame.”

Gods, Leo loved that girl. (Not like that, his heart lay solely on Ogygia, but, you know, Hazel was just fucking awesome.)

Nike sputtered indignantly as Hazel walked forward to carefully place a hand on Percy’s shoulder.

Percy blinked and lowered his sword, slowly standing from his crouch. He looked down at Hazel and gave her a soft, thankful smile before returning his gaze to the goddess.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I guess,” Percy said with a shrug, but Leo noticed that he didn’t sound very apologetic. He hadn’t put Riptide away, either.

Nike huffed, seemingly not keen on accepting an apology from or giving an apology to a demigod, but settled her feet back on the ground regardless. She was pretty, in her white sleeveless dress with her dark brown hair piled in braids atop her head beneath a laurel crown.

But those wings. What Leo had first taken to be golden-yellow feathers looked like they were actually made of gold. They glimmered and shone as they reflected the sun. They were near impossible to look at with how bright they were. He could feel the air around them heating up. He squinted and shielded his eyes when Nike shifted her wings slightly, redirecting a sunbeam directly into his face.

“Could you fold the flappers, lady? You’re giving me a sunburn,” he said. He also couldn’t imagine the intense heat was helping Percy’s headspace much and he’d really rather they not send the poor, terrifying guy into a flashback or whatever.

Leo heard the goddess huff and lowered his arm when he felt the heat lessen only to find her staring at him with dark eyes, a crazy glint lighting them up from within. He repressed a shiver. Man, this lady was intense.

She shifted her gaze to Hazel and Frank and her form flickered. She groaned and clutched her head. It looked like she was splitting in two. On the right side, she didn’t change, with her glittering white dress and laurel crown atop a head of dark braids, her golden wings folded behind her. On the left, she had changed; her dress was purple beneath her armor and her wings were a snowy white. On her head rested a tall, plumed helmet from under which peaked auburn hair.

“I am Nike!” the one on the right shouted.

“I am Victoria!” the one on the left cried.

“Woah, Nelly,” Leo said. “That’s trippy.”

“Shut up,” both sides of the goddess growled at him. He held his hands up in surrender.

“This is impossible!” Nike said.

“You are giving me such a headache!” Victoria said.

“There must be a winner!” They cried in unison.

Nike’s eyes locked on Leo and Percy as Victoria’s locked on Frank and Hazel.

“You must kill the Roman traitors!” Nike demanded.

“The graecus scum must die!” Victoria roared.

Leo felt the anger rising with him and clenched his fists even as he fought against Nike’s influence. He saw Percy’s face twitch, but the son of Poseidon otherwise remained calm. He risked a glance over at Frank and Hazel and saw that they weren’t doing much better than him.

Frank had a nasty glower on his face and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Hazel had closed her eyes and was taking deep breaths, her grip on her sword tightening. Gods, they were probably thinking about how easy it would be to take him out and the only reason they hadn’t tried already was because they knew they stood no chance against Percy. He should show them just how easy he’d be to defeat.

He felt fire wreathe his hands and shook his head. Stop that, he chided himself. They are your friends, not your enemies. You may have had your rough patches in the past, but you guys are over that now. They trust you and you trust them.

Percy snarled beside him, and Leo jumped, temporarily knocked out of whatever trance or some shit Nike had put him in that made him want to kill his friends.

“No,” Percy snapped, and the sharpness of his voice cut through the tension in the air like a knife. “There will be no killing each other. We are friends and we trust each other. Now, enough with your fucking mind games, because I have had it with gods trying to get me to kill my friends.”

A different pressure surrounded them, a smothering intensity that built up and up until Leo almost found it hard to breathe. The air turned cold, the temperature dropping until Leo could see his breath in front of him. He shivered.

The goddesses glared down at them, but Percy just glowered right back, his eyes darkened and his lips pulled back in a snarl. His teeth glinted in the dwindling light as clouds began to cover the sun. Even though they were miles from the shore, Leo swore he could hear the roaring of the tide, the crash of waves as they slammed against a rocky cliff.

And just for a second, Leo could have sworn he saw his friend change; Percy’s mouth filled with rows and rows of elongated teeth that morphed into sharp, serrated fangs. His eyes became swirling pits in which Leo could see the horrors of the ocean depths and all the monstrous creatures that dwelled so far from the light. His hair was an inky black that seemed to swallow up all the light as it floated eerily around his head, the streak of gray hanging limp and lifeless in his face. The scars that littered Percy’s body seemed to glow with a dark, golden light and his skin turned almost translucent, flickering and insubstantial where it looked to be stretched far too thin over his hauntingly skeletal frame.

Then Leo blinked, and it was gone. Percy was his regular (if absurdly attractive) looking self, no eldritch-horror-creature-features here, no siree.

Leo glanced to the side and saw that Frank and Hazel looked as shocked and lowkey horrified as he felt, so at least he wasn’t losing his mind and seeing things. Nike and Victoria, it seemed, had also been taken aback by the momentary shift in Percy’s appearance. Their mouths dropped open in simultaneous shock and their eyes near bugged out of their heads.

Their forms flickered again, so it was less like they were splitting in half and more like two separate images overlaid atop each other (like those 3D movies with the red and blue layered over each other so when you put on those cheap glasses the pictures pop off the screen, Leo thought). She leaned forward, so she could scrutinize Percy up close.

“You are more powerful than you should be, little half-blood,” she said, and her voice had taken on the same distorted, layered quality as her appearance. It made Leo’s head pound. “What are you hiding beneath that veil of Mist, little hero?”

Leo wiped a hand across his top lip, and it came back bloody. He shared nervous looks with Hazel and Frank, who both had matching nosebleeds. They needed to end this. Quick.

“NOthInG YOu wANt tO FiNd oUt ABoUt,” Percy growled in response, and his voice had gained a layered quality too. It was at the same time so deep that Leo could feel it reverberating through his bones and so high that it made Leo’s ears ring. He had a sneaking suspicion that Percy was broadcasting his voice at both ultra- and sub- sonic levels that were beyond the human body’s ability to register. He glanced back at Frank and Hazel and saw blood beginning to trickle from their ears. He was sure that if he checked, his ears would be bleeding too.

As Percy and the split goddess continued to glare each other down, the air continued to thicken and grow heavy with power. It was cloying, sticking to Leo’s skin and making his hair stand on end like the air was charged with static electricity. It was also suffocating, making it hard to breathe as the air in his lungs grew heavy and leaden. He tried to speak, but his throat closed up, choking on the power-soaked air. He let out a strangled gasp and staggered to his knees, two soft thumps telling him that Hazel and Frank had done the same. 

Percy appeared unaffected, locked in his staring contest with the goddess and paying no mind to what was going on behind him. They had to find a way to get Percy’s attention and stop this before it went any further sideways for the rest of them or any mortals unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire. 

Frank managed to grunt and pound his fist into the pavement. (At least, Leo thought he did. It was hard to hear properly over the ringing in his ears.) Thankfully, that noise was enough. 

Percy’s head whipped to the side, his eyes widening when he saw the state his friends were in, and just like that, the power he’d been exuding snapped back into place within him. Leo sucked in a desperate breath as the air grew lighter again. His ears stopped ringing and he could hear Frank and Hazel panting beside him. 

Percy ran over to them, kneeling at Leo’s side as he muttered curses under his breath. His hands fluttered around helplessly, unsure how to help as his gaze flicked between Leo, Hazel, and Frank worriedly. He spared the goddess one more look, a glare that said, ‘try anything, and I’ll kill you,’ as that oppressive aura slipped out for a moment to surround them, before he drew it back in and turned all his attention onto his friends. 

“Shit, fuck, fuckity fuck, gods I’m so sorry guys, are you alright? Shit.” Percy babbled, tearing a strip from the bottom of his shirt and dabbing at the blood dribbling down Leo’s chin and the sides of his face before moving on to give Frank and Hazel the same treatment. His brows were creased in concern and he gnawed on his lip anxiously. “Gods, I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

Hazel reached out and laid a shaking hand on his arm, making him stop. She gave him a weak smile. 

“It’s okay, Percy. We’re alright. A little nectar or ambrosia and we’ll be good as new. No harm done,” she said softly. When Percy still looked skeptical and guilty, she tutted at him and tugged him in for a hug. “Really,” she insisted, though her words were muffled from where she had buried her face in Percy’s chest. “We’re okay.”

Percy closed his eyes and buried his nose in Hazel’s curly hair, breathing deeply to try and calm himself down. If Leo didn’t know that they were both dating someone else and were ridiculously devoted to their respective partners, he’d have thought they were dating. As it was, he figured it was more of a sibling relationship that the two of them shared.

(He had to admit, he was a little jealous. He’d had plenty of foster siblings over the years, but none of them had ever tried all that hard to make him feel welcome or be his friend. Sometimes he wished that he’d had an older sibling growing up, someone who’d take him under their wing and teach him how to make the best of the foster system, to be there for him and show him that he wasn’t alone. After meeting Percy and spending some time with the guy, seeing him interact with the others and all the stories he’d heard about the son of Poseidon at Camp, well. In his private moments when he was alone and his insecurities were getting the better of him, he let himself imagine that Percy was that someone, let himself fantasize about Percy being there as he grew up and acting like his older brother. They were always nice dreams.)

Nike/Victoria looked on silently, watching them carefully. Her form had stopped glitching, and had instead settled on, Leo squinted, a sort of combination of the two? She looked mostly like how she had when they first met her, as Nike, but Leo could see some bleed over from Victoria in the handful of white feathers mixed in with the gold of her wings and the purple accents on her glimmering white dress. The goddess still wore the breastplate she boasted in her Roman form, and her hair was the same auburn color he’d noticed peeking out from beneath her helmet though it was now done up in the elaborate pile of braids with a laurel crown like her Greek form had it.

The crazy light in her eyes had faded away and been replaced by something curious instead. She tilted her head at them and watched as Percy slowly pulled back and helped Hazel to her feet, then walked over to help Frank up and then Leo as well.

“Interesting,” the goddess hummed, and they all turned to look at her. “Why did you come to find us, little demigods?” she asked, and though the question was directed at all of them, Leo had the feeling that she was really only talking to Percy.

“The Earth Mother is waking,” Percy said, calmly stepping forward. “Her children, the Giants, are rising to help her. We are working to unite our two camps to fight against her. There are seven of us, a mix of Greek and Roman demigods, that have set out to try and put a stop to the Giants’ plans to raise her in Athens. Juno herself appeared and told us to come find you. Well, technically, she said subdue you, but at the moment you don’t seem to need any subduing. When we first found you, sure, but you appear to have calmed down.” Percy gestured vaguely and raised an eyebrow before continuing. “Anyway, I figure we need you, or at least your blessing while in a more sound state of mind to get on with our quest and hopefully, y’know, achieve victory and all that.” He shrugged.

The goddess hummed, considering, before nodding once to herself. “Alright. Take me to the rest of your group.”

What? Leo thought.

“What?” Percy asked.

The goddess gave him an indulgent smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’ve impressed me, little heroes. I’d like to meet the others on this quest with you.”

Percy glanced over his shoulder to share a bewildered look with the others. Leo shrugged helplessly in response. “Uh, okay. This way, I guess,” Percy said, and they began the walk back to the docks on the other side of the city, Nike/Victoria trailing along behind them.

“Hey, what should we call you, by the way?” Leo asked, glancing back at the goddess. “You don’t seem like you’re fully Greek or fully Roman at the moment, and I don’t wanna upset whatever balance we’ve managed to achieve here by calling you the wrong name or something,” he elaborated when she merely raised an eyebrow at him.

She tilted her head, thoughtful. “I suppose you may use either my Greek or Roman name. I don’t believe it would ‘upset the balance,’ as you called it.” she shrugged. “Either name fits just as well as the other, and I haven’t a third name you could use instead.”

“Okay, cool,” Leo said awkwardly. And hey, cut him some slack, what else was he supposed to say to that?

The rest of the trek back to the Argo II was made in relative, awkward silence.

When they reached the boat, Nike nodded approvingly, and Leo tried not to beam too brightly, proud that his ship met the approval of a goddess.

Annabeth must have been waiting anxiously for them because she came flying down the ramp as soon as they were close enough and threw herself at Percy. He relaxed as soon as he had her in his arms, practically collapsing into her just as much as she had collapsed into him. They clung tightly to each other, muttering softly.

They stayed like that for a while, completely oblivious to the world around them until Nike cleared her throat.

Annabeth pulled back just far enough to look over Percy’s shoulder and glare at whoever had interrupted them. Leo, even though the glare wasn’t directed at him, flinched back. Nike just raised an eyebrow, resettling her wings behind her. Annabeth didn’t relent in the face of the goddess and instead just narrowed her eyes further.

“Nike? Or Victoria?” she asked, her stormy gray eyes raking over the goddess’ form, no doubt picking her apart and cataloging everything about the goddess.

The goddess merely smirked. “Either name works, daughter of Athena. I am neither one nor the other at the moment but am rather a mixture of both. You have your,” she swept her hand out in a vague gesture at Frank, Hazel, Leo, and Percy, “friends to thank for that.”

Annabeth ignored her and turned a questioning look to Percy, silently asking him to tell her what had happened. Percy leaned in and whispered something in her ear before kissing her cheek as he pulled away. Annabeth’s face betrayed nothing about what Percy might have told her. She just nodded and turned on her heel, grabbing Percy’s hand and tugging him back up the ramp and onto the ship.

Leo, Frank, and Hazel had no choice but to follow, and Nike, it seemed, deigned to join them.

Percy and Annabeth waited for them on the deck before leading everyone down to the galley where Piper and Jason were talking softly as Piper tried to get Jason to eat something.

“Look who I found,” Annabeth said as they walked into the room. “And they brought a new friend back with them.”

Piper barely spared the goddess a glance before turning her gaze onto her friends, looking them over for any injuries. Everyone looked to be as healthy as they’d been before they left aside from some dried blood crusted around Leo, Hazel, and Frank’s ears and noses. She’d have to ask about that later.

“My lady,” Jason said from beside her, though he made no move to get up and bow. If he had, she’d have wacked him upside the head for being stupid and forced him back into his seat.

The goddess merely hummed and swept forward to pull a chair out from the table. She sat down, looking every bit as elegant and poised as a goddess should, and crossed her legs. She looked down her perfect, aquiline nose at them with curious eyes.

“The deep bond of friendship and comradery between the four of you who found me was strong enough to heal my mind and bring my two aspects together, even if only momentarily, and for that I owe you my thanks,” the goddess spoke, and to Piper’s surprise she dipped her head at Percy where he’d found his own seat beside Annabeth. “And as my thanks, I shall tell you this: one of you four,” she locked eyes with Percy, Hazel, Frank, and Leo in turn, “Is fated to die fighting Gaea. There will be no victory for you without death.”

The goddess’ eyes were sharp and cold as she swept her gaze across them all, her face a neutral mask as she no doubt gauged their reactions.

Piper’s heart sank. She heard a couple of the others draw in sharp breaths and saw Percy stiffen, tightening his hold on Annabeth where she sat practically in his lap.

“There has to be another way,” Hazel said shakily, tugging nervously on a lock of hair until Frank reached over to take her hand in his and squeeze it reassuringly.

Nike/Victoria or whoever she was regarded Hazel consideringly. “I suppose Hecate taught you that, little witch,” she said, and sighed. “One of you will die. One of you must die if you are to succeed.”

Piper opened her mouth to protest but the goddess held up a hand to silence her.

“There is, however, a chance that perhaps the one who dies may be brought back. The physician’s cure. It is a powerful and dangerous potion, near impossible to obtain. Much stands in your way: the poison of Pylos, the chained god’s heartbeat in Sparta, the curse of Delos. Overcome the trials, and maybe you could cheat death.” The goddess stood and spread her large, glimmering wings behind her as far as she could in the galley of the Argo II. “I leave you with this: call on me when the time has come for your last stand, and I will come.”

She disappeared with a rustle of feathers like falling leaves and a flash of gold.

That was when Piper’s mind made the connection: To storm or fire the world must fall. They’d been operating under the assumption that ‘fire’ was referring to Leo, and that ‘storm’ meant Jason, son of Jupiter, the Lord of the Skies. But Jason hadn’t been one of the four to find Nike. She turned her gaze to where Percy now held Annabeth fully in his lap, his head tucked into the crook of her neck as she brushed her fingers through his hair. Piper locked eyes with the daughter of Athena and suddenly knew that she had realized it, too.

She and Annabeth had made the same connection, something they had overlooked before, something that had been practically staring them in the face. There was someone else on this ship the prophecy could have meant, someone else who had been there to find the goddess of victory, someone else who might be fated die. Piper couldn’t believe that they hadn’t remembered it sooner.

Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, lord of the seas. The Earth Shaker.

The Storm Bringer.

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antis-hero · 1 year

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If I were you I’d move with the possibility of disciplinary action towards that professor. You know that if the shoe was on the other foot, where a history professor suddenly decided to go on randomly about anti-feminist issues or right wing politics, about half the students in the class would publicly doxx her and have people send her death threats and continue to complain, probably to the dean until she was fired. You are making a valid complaint, respectfully, the way it’s intended to be made. If your professor has repeatedly done and said nasty shit despite the fact that it clearly makes people (not just you) uncomfortable, she doesn’t deserve to just be watched a little more closely when she knows she’s under review and thus will probably behave herself. It’s the type of situation that warrants disciplinary action. Otherwise once the heat cools she’ll probably do it again.

The more I get comments saying she needs to be disciplined, the more I realize that, yeah, I probably should move it up to a full complaint. That option is still available, as I can contact the supervisors again if I'd like and I can fill out a form to be sent to Admin if something else happens (which it might, if she can somehow go nuts in an online course).

I actually mentioned the bit about conservative professors possibly being handled differently to the supervisor I spoke to. I go to school in a red area, and there are a lot of conservative students, professors, and staff here. Right-leaning professors that I have spoken to are open about how they make it a point to avoid their own politics in class because A) that's not what they're there to do, and B) they fear repercussions. I told the supervisor that it was unfair that they do the right thing and avoid being open about their opinions even outside of class and fear repercussions for doing things that my history professor openly does. The response I got was that I didn't have to worry about them because Ed-codes would protect them if they were open about those things. When I told her that I had been called to my boss's office over an essay I had written (peer reported it for offensive content, and it was let go by my boss because, duh, there was no issue), she became immediately concerned with that too, so I trust that people like us are treated fairly by Admin. If they didn't, it would become a scandal, and they'd lose even some of their own over it.

It's hard reporting her to the fullest extent because of a lot of things going on. My summer was rough, and I experienced a lot of unfortunate events, so heading back to campus has been a bit of a drain. I would hate to have to do more paperwork, and possibly meet with the board and her to discuss this again. It's worth it, in my eyes, to do it if I choose. She really stabbed me in the back when she would tell me in private that she loved what I was doing and supported me, then ruined all of it when she showed her true colors while in front of an audience.

Thank you all for your kind words and support. You guys supporting not only the content I research, but my private endeavors on campus encourages me to continue what I do.

#not history

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heimeldat · 2 years

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Yaz, Dan and 13 for the character ask game, please :)

1. Who would you rather swap aesthetics/outfits with for a day?

Pirate Dan! Normally I'd pick the Doctor, but 13's style is a bit boring imo. Dan has more of a sense of fun when it comes to clothing.

2. Who do you team up with in a 2v2 volleyball match? Which side wins?

I'd team up with the Doctor. I think we'd both be absolutely terrible at it, fall over a lot, get our clothes full of sand, and have a hilarious time. Dan and Yaz would absolutely destroy us, but I'd have more fun being a non-sporty clutz with the Doctor than teaming up with someone who actually knows/cares how the game is played.

3. If each of them got one million dollars, who would waste/spend their money the fastest?

The Doctor, obviously. She has no idea how money works. She'd buy everything that caught her interest. Yaz would suggest donating to charities, and she'd get super excited and dump a bunch of funds to the first charity she liked the sound of. Then she'd be shocked at how fast a million dollars could be spent. Then she'd forget all about it the next day.

Yaz would probably give a bunch to her family, invest some, and give some to charity (maybe a fund for families of dead officers in her police force or something?) She'd use most of it pretty quickly, but in a worthwhile way.

I'm on the fence about Dan. A lot of people who've never had much money have no idea how to budget or invest or spend wisely because it's never been an option. I could see him getting excited and using a lot of it in one go, but I think he'd come to his senses before he spent it all, rein himself in, and manage some smart purchases to set himself up for the future.

4. Who would die first in a horror movie? Who would be the survivor?

Dan would die first, poor guy. He's in over his head and not quite quick or genre savvy enough to watch out for the horror tropes. Yaz would last a long time; she might even be one of the last two or three survivors. But in the end, she'd probably die sacrificing herself for someone else. The Doctor would live, because she always does. She'd hate herself for it, of course. She'd defeat the monster in the end, but not in time to save anyone else.

5. They're all on the run from the law! What crimes did each commit and who is most likely to get caught?

Dan stole something, probably something both impressive and hilarious like an ice cream truck or a flock of goats. Or a flock of goats aboard an ice cream truck. Yaz shot someone who was harming innocents and couldn't be stopped any other way. The Doctor...uh...well, her warrant list is longer than her arm, the lawmen coming after her are convinced half the crimes are too ridiculous to be true, and of course those turn out to be the truest ones on the list. The Doctor gets caught, either because she's the biggest threat and they send all their resources after her, or because she lets them catch her while the other two escape.

#doctor who #ask game #random thoughts #thirteenth doctor

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the-firebird69 · 5 months

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This morning repercussions to what's happening. And to him posting people are wondering what these people are doing what they're saying is insane they look insane and they're not giving him a break at all when it comes down to it they're going to have to get off him or they're going to be killed it yesterday good morning all around you sent the messages warnings they send it they won't respond to threats so we heard kill him then we have to and they're yelling with the standing thread s*** like that so I saw it where and when the gating a whole bunch of it and these guys are and he starts saying this I won't be impuned cuz I get some line says impute him so the idiot Trump started yelling again you can't have him say stuff and mostly they don't and it's not saying I don't like what I'm hearing goes through the math my son said something to him and daughter how many flips out starts quoting their laws it's mad my son says we're going to kill you anyways whether you pee your pants or not so he flipped out and people were attacking him you started getting hammered I need badly and he was getting beat up real bad and he was getting killed and he started saying this he doesn't care about people here and he's got a system of just beating the s*** out of us out there and he's defending himself he knows we don't have any options and he starts talking smack we decided to hit him real hard for what he's saying cuz it does it all day long and has no mercy on a son who's trapped here listening to his ass and I talk and really this guy Trump is a mental patient and you can see it then the sun says I really don't need him in the spotlight anymore he's such a retard and I want my people to not think I would associate with him and we did figure out what you're saying so the idiot might pick that up and we know those people are ultimate and badly and he will try and use it cuz she's a master of that s*** he says and is a poor boy and he needs a lesson a solid lesson as does his wife that piece of s*** and we're hearing from people who hate him and they're not friends and we know they need to kill him and they are trying desperately actually because he is a huge traitor and they're seeking him on special warrant there's a lot of them now and they're going after him very frequently and they are also taking his people in for questioning and they're finding out what happens to friends and relatives all over the world these trumpsters are being questioned and a lot of murders are theirs and they are going down the river and today has a big day for that because of information that came out of Mar-A-Lago and it's about nuclear weapons and the reason why he wants to be president is it there a secret stockpiles that are still being maintained and he wants his to access when people fall asleep or get busy or use the max as an excuse to try and blow up the planet that's what he was saying and when he goes to Titan that's what he wants that laser for it's not big enough for a lot of jobs but he says it's big enough for that and we agree that it probably would penetrate and hit them but when you blow them up there power only becomes what the detonator is for the most part and nuclear material and it's like unaware that some reason every day so we check for other triggers and even nearby and another reason why he wants the presidency is to try and rewire them so we don't want him as president obviously and a lot of people won't when they read this post and we're sick of him and his asinine personage

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

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planetofsnarfs · 6 months

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Expectant parents invite doctors and nurses into the delivery room, not police officers. But law enforcement agencies have backdoor access in New Jersey.

The intrusion starts within 48 hours after birth, when maternity ward workers prick an infant’s heel to collect blood for laboratory testing. The screening allows for early detection of rare conditions like cystic fibrosis and sickle cell disease.

All states do this. But afterward they destroy the paper cards they use to collect dried bloodspots. New Jersey keeps the blood.

Without telling parents, the state has stored samples from each baby born since the 1970s, creating a secretive database with millions of entries. Blood samples stay on file for 23 years. DNA data might last longer on third-party servers.

New Jersey does not say precisely what happens to the data, but the state gives itself permission to share the genetic markers it collects with anyone it wants for any reason, including law enforcement. The risk is not just hypothetical. New Jersey already has turned over infant blood samples to police agencies without a warrant, leading to criminal charges for at least one father.

Technically, parents can opt out of the screening if they object on religious grounds. But hospitals hide this option, and some families report threats of being reported to Child Protective Services if they refuse. A half-page handout from the New Jersey Department of Health claims “all” infants are “required by law” to give blood to the state.

The handout says nothing about long-term storage.

Erica Jedynak, a mother from Boonton, New Jersey, was blindsided on her delivery day. She did not learn until later that the state would keep her son’s blood on file for unknown purposes. The intrusion felt like an eerie scene from Gattaca or some other dystopian science fiction horror film.

“There is something morally not right that the government would be tracking him or almost assuming the guilt of babies,” Jedynak says. “I have to protect him from what appears to be a very creepy database.”

The shadowy scheme also concerns Hannah Lovaglio, a mother from Cranbury, New Jersey. “It is a little off-putting to think that my child’s blood is sitting in some state facility in New Jersey,” she says. “I try to keep track of all of my kid’s things, but that is just totally out of my control and unsettling.”

Rather than go away quietly, both mothers are fighting back in a federal class-action lawsuit in U.S. District Court for the District of New Jersey. Our public interest law firm, the Institute for Justice, represents the class.

The case builds on earlier lawsuits exposing invasive uses of baby blood samples without parental consent. Plaintiffs caught Texas turning over DNA data to the Pentagon for a national registry. Michigan was selling newborn blood for research. So was Minnesota. Court rulings forced all three of these states to stop.

Other jurisdictions respect parental rights voluntarily. But holdouts remain. California, for example, continues to stockpile baby blood spots for law enforcement and research. A state bill would give parents more control, but legislation should not be necessary.

The Fourth Amendment of the U.S. Constitution already guarantees the right to be secure against unreasonable searches and seizures. In the absence of a warrant, consent, or certain other conditions, all searches and seizures are unconstitutional.

Collecting blood from a baby just in case the child or a close relative does something illegal in the future falls far short of the standard. No judge, no matter how friendly to law enforcement, would authorize searches for evidence up to 23 years before a crime occurs.

Such warrants would put the United States in Minority Report territory. Yet this is where New Jersey wants to operate—minus the warrants. The abuse is just one way governments can treat people like criminals before they do anything wrong.

The Sheriff’s Office of Pasco County, Florida, uses a method it calls “predictive policing”—where people marked for scrutiny face surveillance, unannounced home visits, and hyper-aggressive code enforcement. All household members suffer. Tammy Heilman, who had a teenaged son on the “future criminals” list, endured five years of weekly and sometimes daily police harassment.

Houston, meanwhile, forces certain business owners to treat their customers like potential criminals. Since 2022, the city has required bars, nightclubs, convenience stores, game rooms, and sexually oriented businesses to install exterior lights and cameras, make recordings, and store the information for 30 days at their own expense.

Upon request, these businesses must hand over video files to the police without a warrant. The scheme follows the New Jersey pattern. Law enforcement agencies conduct searches in advance or make someone else do it, and then mine the data when a need arises. The difference in New Jersey is the seizure of biometrics—an extra layer of intrusion.

These Fourth Amendment violations must end. Even when a crime has occurred and the police have a suspect, they must follow the Constitution. Conducting searches and seizures in advance increases the risks of abuse.

If babies are not safe from the law enforcement overreach, then no one is.

#privacy #dna #biometrics #policing

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totallyhextra · 1 year

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This is the place I have the least audience, so I'm just going to vent here. Out in the open but not too open.

I've been having nervous breakdowns almost every week.

I'm not using the word facetiously.

It feels like the frame rate in my brain drops. Things get disconnected. My balance goes off. I'm not here. I'm crying, laughing, staring into space, scaring the shit out of my wife.

Scaring the shit out of myself.

There's not much I can do about it. I have an excellent shrink. I have excellent pills. My dad is not coming back from the dead. The deluge of family secrets will not stop upending my known history any time soon. I doubt the fight to save an experimental school for autism the wife and I worked with from a rebellious ABA cell will not be resolved in court any time soon. I doubt my wife will find a new job any time soon.

We did catch her breast tumour before it went cancerous, but she's still messed up from the scare. We both are. It's the third time I saved wife from cancer by being overzealous about making/forcing her to go to her doctor's appointments. I guess it's not really overzealous if it's warranted.

And then there's the deep sadness that I'm straining to help my mom carry. Because I feel what she feels, I'm very effective therapy. Because I feel what she feels, I am pulled under by it, often long before I realize it's happening.

This too will not end anytime soon. I have been helping her design my dad's gravestone. It feels like any other job, any other client. It has yet to hit me what it really is. No doubt it won't until I see it at my feet in stone.

There are other fragments on the periphery: the constant threat of the solace of my decades-old garden being destroyed by my new, mercurial landlord; the worry of one of my friend's sudden, mysterious heart condition; the worry of the children at the school who will suffer under ABA rule if the 20-year DIR utopia my close friend M founded collapses; the worry of my close friend M if it collapses; our finances, our unexpected, incredibly needy rescue, and whatever world events manage to break through this fog.

Wife decided tonight that tomorrow is going to be her last day. She got her job four years ago when M inserted wife into the cell (the business office) as a mole. The business office caught on soon enough and tormented her for four years, trying to make her quit.

Wife managed to procure copious amounts of proof of illegal dealings despite this, but in the end M failed to act on it in time and was ousted from by an emboldened HR, an easily-swayed BoD, and her own co-exec. Wife suffered for years, and in the end it could come to nothing.

Her last day is technically the 30th, but she's thrown the last of her sick days to make it the 23rd. Tonight we decided to end it tomorrow. We stayed up until midnight, playing the new Zelda in the dark, something unheard of on a workday night.

It doesn't matter.

We are hurtling into a new reality. It felt fitting to stumble around the underworld of Hyrule on the eve of what felt like Armageddon. We wondered how it was going to be on the other side.

I can't imagine. I don't know where I am half the time anymore.

Hex says chaos is neutral. There is no overweening agenda to fight. Sometimes surrender is the only option, she says, and madness its sanest harbor.

#mental burnout

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gotshadowbanned-feralfungii · 1 year

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Since Epic was giving out the New Vegas Ultimate Edition for free I've been playing it again and am therefore back on my bullshit. So, I'm gonna ramble about my Courier's. I have four main Courier’s for New Vegas with four very different motivators.

Murdoch: Helping people above all else, ends up getting in good with the NCR bc he's a stand-up kinda guy, but won't prioritize their agenda over the well-being of the helpless (ex. in the quest That Lucky Old Sun he diverts the energy to the poorest areas rather than the NCR base.) Goes for an NCR ending because he sees them as the Mojave's best protection against the Legion and other threats. Crack shot, when he isn’t plastered, though he often is incredibly wasted bc he is soft-hearted and doesn't know how else to cope with the kind of things he's seen.

Liberty: Individual independence above all else, she doesn't believe in helping people so much as she believes in giving them the power to help themselves. If they squander the freedom she grants them, that's their problem, at least they were free to do so on their own terms. Goes for the wild card ending because she believes a free Vegas is ideal, even if it ends up in chaos. Very much "no gods, no kings, no masters" sorta gal. Anarchy at its finest. Beats the absolute hell out of enemies with whatever blunt instrument she can get her hands on. Blades work too, but she doesn't find those as satisfying.

Carmen: Self-indulgence above all else. These violent delights have violent ends but those violent ends are also delightful to her. Selfish to her very core, no regard for others and in fact sees them as pawns for her to play with or as supporting characters in her narrative. Ends up helping out the Legion at first because the suffering they sow is funny to her, but when she reaches the point where they say "oh we would make you a Legionnaire, but you're a woman and therefore worthless, so we can't. We still want you to do our dirty work tho..." Well. At that point, all bets are off, and they've signed their death warrant. She pivots hard into a Mr. House ending bc taking it all upon herself seemed like a hassle and the NCR seemed like a bore. So, she'd rather hand control of Vegas over to House and benefit from his control and the fact that he owes her, so she can keep indulging in her violent, chaotic fun.

Brutus: Order above all else. The tragedy of Brutus is that he has a lot of qualities that could, in theory, make him a good man. He cares sincerely about his companions, he wants the best for the Mojave, he has a solid sense of right and wrong... Unfortunately, he thinks the best thing for the Mojave is bringing order to the chaos and, as far as he can see, the NCR just isn't equipped to bring about that order, and Mr. House is too focused on the Strip when order is needed on a much larger scale. Therefore, he thinks the Legion is the only viable option. He finds their methods distasteful, but puts his morals aside as he has a "you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs" mentality. He thinks they're a necessary evil to maintain order in the chaotic wasteland. He seems like a big bulky meathead but is actually very intelligent and gifted in science, repairs, medicine, and energy weapons.

So yeah those are my main Couriers. Maybe one day I'll draw them or smth lmao. Or at least post the Murdoch/Arcade fic I wrote.

#new vegas nonsense #courier six

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maple-the-awesome · 2 years

Text

Birthday Wish ||

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2,749

Requested by @sourpatchspinster: Hi hun,ay I make a request please? It's my birthday coming up in a month and I'll be 30 🙃, I'm totally having an existential crisis about it. Can I have a fluffy fic about the reader turning 30 and she is just being very dramatic like ... , She's single and think she going to die alone lol, but Bucky and his 106 year old ass tell it's going to be okay and she not going to die alone because he loves. Sorry this very specific, but I'm having a moment lol

I love this idea (mainly because I've had this same moment before😔). Here you go, sweetie, and I hope you have an amazing birthday 🥳

Marvel Masterlist 🖤 Fandom Masterlist 🖤 Requests

You should be happy. The weather's perfect and everyone you care about is near, many of whom you haven't seen in what feels like ages. There's also not a single threat in sight; no rouge super soldiers threating peace nor murderous aliens threating existence itself. It's just your friends singing 'Happy Birthday' terribly yet purposefully off key while being all smiles and laughter; a look so foreign for the Avengers these days. So, you should be happy...but you're not.

Three zero. Your hatred for the number only grows the longer you stare at those red and white candles. It's insane to think that as a child, you actually looked forward to turning thirty. What the heck was wrong with you then? No sane person wants to be thirty! When you turn sixteen, you can get a driver's license, turn eighteen to be considered a legal adult, and at twenty-one you can finally drink alcohol. What happens at thirty? Nothing except more body pains in places you'd never expect and the terrifying reminder that the clock is ticking down.

Staring at those two cursed candles, you wonder if they'll reverse time if you wish hard enough. Perhaps you could even pull Stephan aside later and strike some kind of bargain, begging him to work some of his wizard magic to make you younger somehow...No, you doubt he'll do that. He was already complaining earlier about the entire fiasco that occurred after he tried helping Spiderman. With Stephan not being an option, you're really just going to have to wish with all your might.

Alas, nothing happens when you suck in a breath and blow out the tiny flames; nothing except the cheers of the crowd as they’re the only ones celebrating your new age. Not wanting to hurt their feelings nor burden them with your inner worries on such an joyous occasion, you put on your best smile. You're happy, that's all they need to know at least.

Being the birthday girl, you get your first pick of a cake slice, deciding to feed that inner child within by getting the slice with the most intact cookie on top. From there you slip past the group, finding a quiet spot on the porch of the Wilson home where you can eat in peace and alone...as you worry you'll be spending the rest of your life.

In the past (meaning up until earlier last month), you've tried not to worry too much over the status of your love life. You went on dates and tried your best to land a guy without any red flags, but on its own that can be a difficult, time consuming task which only gets worse when added to your busy life as an Avenger. It doesn't help that you pretty much took a five year hiatus during the Blip, only managing to go on one or two dates during that time before realizing you're too depressed to try.

Now that the Blip is over and everyone is back, you've been trying to slowly get back onto the dating scene with little luck. Before you could usually find a guy or two who peaked your interest enough to warrant other dates or even the eventual title of boyfriend, but now you can't even recall the last time you’ve called a guy back after the first date. Did the Blip change you that much? Has your age made you more picky? Or perhaps...

To be honest, if you allowed yourself to dwell on it long enough, you'd realize there's a reason for why you had such a hard time dating during the Blip and why no guy has seemed to spark a light inside your heart afterwards. It's because deep down inside, your heart already knows exactly what type of guy it longs for right down to the name no one else has been able to compete with.

It isn't that you're necessarily blind to this fact, only that you're too stubborn to admit it. You’re thirty years old today which means you're also officially a beggar who can't be a chooser and far too old to hold onto a stupid school girl crush. It doesn't matter what your heart wants to make of all those gentle touches or the playful flirting that surrounds your purely platonic relationship; it won't wash away the line carved in stone and the sooner you cut that pesky rope of hope, the sooner you can return to your quest of actually finding someone before you end up being too old to grow old with them.

"Is the cake not good?" At this point you're certain Bucky hangs around watching you just in waiting to approach at the worst possible time. There's no other reason for him to drop whatever argument Sam and him had been having just to walk over to you with a teasing smile that looks way too mischevious to hold any ounce of innocence; like he knows he's caught you thinking about something forbidden even if that's impossible.

Luckily, he concludes by the way you lift your head with a raised eyebrow that you hadn’t heard his question properly. Poking his fork into his own cake slice, he nods towards yours," the cake? Do you not like it? I had no idea which to get; there were like fifty there. I honestly just got Oreo because I like it, but I probably should've had Sam pick one out-"

His last comment seems scolded more towards himself, but you cut him off by quickly scooping up another piece of the ice-cream cake which had already began to melt," no, no. It's good...You did a good job picking it."

Bucky smiles more at this, although he doesn't leave. Instead, he hovers there mere feet in front of you like a child waiting to annoy their mom over something. You, meanwhile, fight to keep your eyes on the plate, only barely glancing up to notice his eyes lingering over the sliver of space beside you. Getting the message, you scoot over," wanna sit?"

"Yeah...Yeah, I do," he chuckles in embarrassment before gratefully sitting beside you. Despite the amount of room you've provided him with, he still decides to sit close enough to have his arm and leg rub up against yours; a usual habit you've noticed he has not that it means anything.

The two of you eat together in silence, enjoying how nice the cool treat tastes against the warm weather. Everyone else has migrated into different groups to share conversations while Clint's kids and Sam's nephews chase circles around the adults. You actually manage to smile at the sight, happy to see everyone back with their families after so much recent heartache, however the feeling doesn't last long before being bittered.

You're thirty years old without a partner. How much longer will it take to find Mr. Right, and how long will it take for the relationship to progress into something considered stable? While marriage is optional these days as is the concern over concrete long term plans, there’s always the possibility that you might decide to start a family with your future partner. Will you be too old to get pregnant by then? Would even adoption prove to be too much?

"You alright, doll?" Doll...Another habit of Bucky's that means nothing aside from a prick to your heart at such a vulnerable moment.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem...distant," he notes, following your eyes to the group of kids who've successfully dragged Scott into their game of tag," is the party too much?"

"No, it's been great and I've enjoyed getting to see everyone again. I just..." You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, not wanting to get into it. Instead you pick up your plastic solo cup and fiddle with the smooth edge in desperate search for a good excuse," I haven't really gotten much done this week, so I'm gonna need to play catch up. I haven't been grocery shopping yet, 'need to clean the house...I might even update my dating profile, who knows?"

You mention the last part while lifting the soda to your lips and taking a long drink, ignoring the sudden change in Bucky's facial expression which scrunches up as if he has just been asked to solve a difficult math equation.

"...Dating profile, huh?" If you didn't know any better, you'd say his echoed words sound forced, but you don't dwell on that.

"Yeah, ya' know...Thirty's pretty old. I'd like to find a guy before I run out of time..." You hate how pathetic your voice gets with each word, reflecting your inner concern more than you'd prefer.

You really don't want to seem dramatic especially in front of someone you respect as much as Bucky, but you can't help yourself. You've lost count to how many times people have joked about your old age just today alone, never realizing the jabs they’re causing to your confidence not that they can really be blamed. This is the first time all day where someone's noticed your inner demons and it's making you fall apart at the seams.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that."

"Huh? What?" You raise an eyebrow, slightly offended at the way Bucky turns away and takes a drink from his beer bottle with a look of mild interest if it can even be called that.

"That you said 'thirty's pretty old', 'cause if you're old at thirty and running out of time, then that means I'm ancient and out of luck," he wears a smirk nearly identical to the teasing one from before, however the more you stare at him, the more different it seems. It's almost like there's a hidden pain of his own bitterness against the curl of his lips.

"...Well, I hate to break it to you, Barnes, but you probably do belong in a museum-"

"-Hey!"

"Don't 'hey' me. You're like what? A hundred?"

He bites his lip and looks away with a stubborn whisper,"...a hundred and six."

"Ancient," despite your sour mood, you still manage to smile at the way he nudges your arm playfully. This smile fades only slightly as you stare down at the dark liquid rippling in your hands, preparing to be a bit more serious with your next topic," but even so, I don't think you have as much to worry about."

"Why not?" He's generally curious, facing you fully once more with a cute raise of his eyebrow.

"Ancient people have mirrors in their apartments, right?" You pause solely to get a good look at his frown before carry on," because I find it hard to believe you'd have any problem getting a date with your looks. Even the other day when we went down to the docks to help Sam with his boat, there were girls giggling about you. I bet if you stood on the side of the street with a sign that said 'please date me', there'd be a line of men and women wrapping around Louisiana."

"I don't get that much attention," He leans back against the stairs, propping his leg up and bringing his beer to his lips yet never actually taking a drink. If anything, he's just using it to hide his face from you while pretending to be watching the party from a distance.

"You get all the attention. Everyone knows that...but if you don't believe me, we can do a vote-"

"-Nope. No need for that...Just sit your ass down, doll," you go to stand only for Bucky to grab your arm in a hurry and pull you back down, his cheeks dusted from what you assume is embarrassment as you laugh. Shifting uncomfortably, he mumbles," if that's your logic, then you shouldn't have much trouble with dates yourself."

"What makes you say that?" Now you're the one confused.

"Old people have mirrors in their apartments, right?" He quotes you from earlier, bashfully glancing your way for only a second before turning to pick at the peeling paint on the steps," you're a beautiful gal not to mention you're funny and caring along with countless other things- what I'm trying to say is, guys should be lining up around the block for a chance to date you."

There's a heat to your cheeks at his words, however you're quick to remind yourself of their worth as a simple build up from a good friend. Instead of letting them sink into your already fizzy heart, you curl your knees to your chest and shake your head," the problem isn't getting dates with guys, it's finding the right guy...Every time I go, I find something that doesn't work for me. I don't like his style or laugh. I don't feel anything when he holds my hand or kisses my cheek. It just always ends up feeling...wrong. Like..."

"...Like you're meant to be there with someone else?" You're shocked at how fitting Bucky's words are, a reaction he notes. Flustered, he gives a shrug while sitting up straight again," I get that. I went on a date not too long ago and ended up leaving half way through because I couldn't stop thinking about someone else."

"...Oh...?" You frown, fiddling with your fingers in mock distraction," why not just ask that 'someone else' out then?"

Bucky hums absentmindedly, certain you missed the way he glances at you a few different times in the corner of his eyes while weighing his choices in response. It feels like a good minute goes by, one where you watch the party in a somewhat tense atmosphere as if both of you are aware the conversation has hit the same stubborn door you’ve always somehow managed to find. It's a door that appears whenever Bucky leans his arm over your shoulders during movie nights or the way his words trail off as you both stand close enough to feel each others breath while enjoying the sunset on Sam's boat; a door that reminds you both that to pass through would be to cross that stone line of a platonic relationship into something not meant for friends.

"...I think she might be too old for me," Bucky finally confesses, his voice purposefully low to allow fate to decide whether or not you hear.

Fate decides that you do, shown through your confusion," too old for you? What girl is too old for a hundred and six year old man? Are you checking out the ladies at a retirement home or something?”

He shrugs, leaning forward slightly while cupping his hands together," I don't know…I just heard her say thirty is pretty old."

You blink once then twice, letting his words sink in," you..."

Chewing his bottom lip, he refuses to steal glances at you anymore, instead beginning to feel the suffocation of regret set in," look, I get it if you’re not interested. It’s weird, I mean, we’re friends and teammates, but I…I really like you, doll, and if you’d give me the chance, I’d like to be the first guy in line for a date with you- If not then that’s fine. I won’t bring it up again, I promise. I-”

“-I’m free Friday…”

“H-Huh?”

“Friday night. I’m, uh, free if you’d like to go out then,” you rub the back of your neck shyly, your face feeling like it’s on fire as Bucky stares at you in surprise.

It takes some time for your words to process in his head, the outcome where you agree to a date having never actually been considered for some reason. He figured it would be a longshot, one against his better judgment that would possibly ruin your friendship, but not in a good way; not in this way.

“Friday night,” he echoes breathlessly before seeming to snap back into it, his voice noticeably more uplifted as he nods frantically,” right, Friday, I can do that. Uh, how about we go dancing? Do guys still take girls dancing? I don’t have any idea how this modern dating thing works.”

You chuckle at his eagerness, finally finding the courage to look at him with an uncontrollable smile of your own,” I think any date would be amazing with you- as long as you don't take me to a bingo night somewhere that is."

“...Bingo's actually kind of fun, doll.”

“Maybe you are too old for me.”

“Hey!”

You laugh, standing up from the porch with your empty plate and cup in hand," Friday night dancing...It's a date then, Barnes. I'm looking forward to it."

Going on a date with Bucky might not be what you wished for today, but it's something far better, that's for sure...Maybe turning thirty isn't actually that bad after all.

#bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #marvel #x reader #reader insert

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therealvinelle · 2 years

Note

What would other vampires do if the Cullens' health started to rapidly decline from not drinking human blood for too long? (Bella is probably okay, she's not been on the diet for that long)

The Cullens, as in, all of them save Bella? And are we including Renesmee?

I think, for maximum chaos, we'll be assuming yes on both counts. All the Cullens save Bella start to rapidly decline.

We're defining Twilight vampires and hybrids declining as they are getting slower, weaker, need to feed more often, and they're having a harder time controlling themselves, concentrating, and remembering things.

Which is all terribly alarming.

Problem is, they've been without human blood for vastly different streaks.

Carlisle has been a vegetarian for three and a half centuries, but he turned four people so his system hasn't been without human blood. Still, that's 70 years Carlisle's been completely off the juice.

Edward drank Bella's blood in 2005, then tasted it again when turning her.

Renesmee enjoyed human blood the most recently, she had blood bags while a toddler.

Emmett, Esme, Jasper, and Alice have each had accidents, though we don't know when they happened. Alice and Jasper have to have slipped after 1950, though, for their slips to be part of the Cullen family history. They're going for 50 years or less, while Emmett and Esme are unknowns.

Rosalie was turned in 1933 and remains the only Cullen apart from Bella to never have tasted human blood. She's going on 70 years without human juice too.

In spite of these wildly different spans of time without blood, the Cullens suddenly get ill simultaneously.

Carlisle, notably, never got sick before this: he went almost two centuries without human blood, and it went well. Likewise, Rosalie has gone 70 years and been just fine, yet now Edward's suddenly collapsing after a few short years without the juice. Even more alarmingly, Renesmee is sick too.

The Denali, mind you, are doing perfectly fine.

Human blood can't be the cause of this.

You have seven vampires and a hybrid all declining, and the one unaffected is Bella, whose gift famously is a shield. They conclude that there are two options for what is happening here:

1: After thousands of years, a virus that attacks venom has finally evolved. How they became infected, why Bella hasn't been infected and why Renesmee is as sick as the others remains unknown.

Sire lines can't be a factor, as Alice and Jasper are affected while Bella isn't, and likewise the diet might have made them more susceptible but that doesn't explain why Renesmee is as weak as the rest.

The virus explanation is looking unlikely, not impossible but unlikely.

2: They're under the effect of a gift.

This would explain why they've been affected at the same time and why Renesmee is affected, but Bella isn't.

Whose gift this is is unknown, nothing like this has ever been observed before.

(A problem with the theory is that Bella shielding them accomplishes nothing, but that only implies the effects of this gift can't be reversed, but that is a conclusion too horrifying to warrant thinking about.)

Though- they did recently make themselves a threat to a powerful coven known for collecting unique and interesting gifts from all across the board, and this coven would want to take them out in a way that kept their hands clean in the eyes of the public, a way insidious enough that by the time the Cullens realized what was happening, they couldn't amass an army.

A gift is the only sufficient explanation, and the Volturi are the only ones with both means and motive.

Bella, the only healthy Cullen remaining, realizes that if she doesn't do anything the Cullens will all die.

She has to confront the Volturi in some way.

She goes to seek out the Romanians, knowing they are only two giftless people, but also knowing that if anyone would be able to help her with what to do next, it would be them.

Her other option, going to the Volturi themselves, is more likely than not merely playing into their hands, and would only result in the Volturi taking her captive and never letting her see her family again. Nothing would stop them from killing her family, either, just to make sure she has nothing to return to.

The Romanians are her only real option.

Carlisle, meanwhile, having heard Bella tell them what she was going to but having been too out of it at the time to do much more than grunt in her direction, realizes suddenly that Bella joining the Romanians could be... bad. Very bad. Legion of newborns and old enemies of the Volturi type bad.

He digs his fingers into the carpet and pulls himself towards a phone, which he uses to phone Volterra.

Aro, receiving the world's most disturbing call that's largely Carlisle slurring into the phone, something about the Romanians, ends up going to Forks to find out what the hell is even going on. There, he finds Carlisle lying on the floor with six other vampires and a hybrid.

First things first, he says to himself, and nabs a car of the highway and feeds the occupants to Carlisle. Have at, buddy, even vegan have to have fish oil every once in a while.

Carlisle recovers instantly.

Aro moves about the room with more people from the highway (well, Demetri does this, Aro is outside with Carlisle catching up and forcibly pulling him back when he tries to stop his family from massacring god knows how many drivers), and the conclusion drawn is that something, god knows what it was but it was certainly something, kicked in to make the Cullens all get really sick at the same time.

Edward, who is finally healthy enough to get up from the floor for the first time in a week, agrees with his currently absent wife that Aro most likely planned this whole thing from the start, he's just playing hero now.

Aro just stares, and asks if Edward is going to help get his wife to call off her overthrowing venture.

Edward is sure Aro would like that.

Yes, yes Aro would like that.

Aro is also realizing that it's not gonna happen.

He kidnaps the Cullens, and holds them ransom in exchange for Bella handing herself over. Come to Italy, or he lets Caius start burning vampire phalanges.

Bella hands herself over, and is summarily executed for conspiring against the Volturi. Aro can't afford not to do it.

And it of course wouldn't end there, because Edward would never let it end there. Somehow, and I don't even know how, this whole situation ends up with Carlisle and Renesmee living in Volterra while Edward is killed somewhere in Eastern Europe, where he was trying to rally a pair of very unimpressed Romanians.

#aro #carlisle cullen #bella swan #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #cullens #twilight vegetarianism #twilight vampires

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parvulous-writings · 3 years

Text

Home // Mother!Dimitrescu x Child!F!Reader

Request: Hi! may i request this scenario: what if lady dimitrescu had a fourth daughter? like child reader stumbles into the castle and lady dimitrescu decides to raise her as her own. thanks love!

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu adopts a new daughter.

Warnings: mentions of death

Words: 1.7K

Notes: My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

Cold. That was the only thing you could feel. The only thing you had felt for the past several hours, at least. Well, feel in a loose sense of the term. Your limbs were numb, stiff and unable to move. You had been shuffling forward with no real sense of direction for who knows how long now, with no end in sight, no shelter from the elements you were forced to endure. Your home had been attacked by massive monsters- not quite man, not quite human. You parents had ushered you and your siblings out of your home, but now you were the last of your family line. One by one, your family had been picked off by your attackers, but each time you had managed to wriggle your way out of the situation. At one point you had even ducked into the woods to escape the beasts, but now that you had returned to the village you didn’t know what landmarks were what; almost everything you could recognise had been destroyed. You did, however, manage to find the Maiden of War, a statue that was in the centre of a roundabout like pathway that tractors and wagons often used. In normal life at least. Nearby to that, up some stone steps, was a stone door with a carving that frightened most of the children of the village, even with the two reliefs missing. However, this time, the reliefs were there, and the gateway had opened ever so slightly. Void of hope, and with every other option exhausted, you shuffle towards it, slipping through the crack, and starting up the snow-covered pathway to who knows where. Though, by looking up, you assumed that it lead to the massive castle which loomed over the village and it’s surroundings.

The trek up there was probably much shorter than it seemed to be. There was a drawbridge that lay over a small, shallow body of water, and your footsteps echo off of it as you cross into a dark and rocky tunnel. It’s very dimly lit- nothing more than wall mounted torches and the fading remaining light to guide your way. You felt your way along to stone wall, the surface cold to the touch, not that you could tell all that much. Eventually, you came to a door. It was tall, much taller than you, although it was only about average height in reality. You pressed all your weight against it, and slowly- oh so slowly- did it creak open. You scurried inside, pushing the door shut once more behind you. After catching your breath you take a moment to observe your surroundings- you were in a rather lavish room, just large enough to be classed as a hall, with hard, marble floors and a tiny staircase onto a more raised floor. You clamber up them, and notice a rather detailed portrait in front of you, of three beautiful young women, with tied up brown hair, sitting together in what appeared to be a forest or woodland clearing; it was a little bit hard to tell since the women took up most of the picture. You tilted your head slightly as you got lost in the colours and brushstrokes, wondering who these women were and what they did to warrant such a wonderful portrait. Of course, there was a plaque beneath it- most likely holding some of the information you wanted- you couldn’t read it, and it was a little too high for you anyway.

The sound of an opening door somewhere down the hall to your left catches your attention. Without knowing what else to do, you start to walk towards it, staying close to the walls and running your hand slowly along it. You push through a few more doors, before coming to a large hall- occupied with a chair, small table, assorted plants and even a chest of drawers in a corner. Your eyes roam upwards, and this room alone could house the entirety of the village, perhaps two or three times over. You knew the castle was big- it often occupied conversation among the children of the village- but this took your breath away. Not only was it huge, but it was ornate, more ornate than anything you had seen before in your life. One mere trinket from this room alone could have fed your family for at least two months, had they been alive still to see this. You hear another door close behind you, and you spin round to see if who is there. You can only hope that the residents of this castle take pity on you. But, you see nothing. No one. You’re incredibly confused by this, and you have to glance this way and that to make sure that there’s no one around you. All you can find is a few flies. Wait. There’s more than a few. There’s three whole clouds. You give a small shriek and duck to the floor, covering your head and face to try and hide away from the bugs, making sure they didn’t get near your face. If they didn’t get near your face, you could pretend they weren’t there at all.

The only problem was, you could still hear the buzzing of their wings. You felt a few beat against your back, as the sounds began to warp and change. From buzzing and droning to... Laughter? Yes, it was laughter, three different laughs to be exact. Fearfully, you look up from your arms, to see three, rather fearsome looking young women in front of you. In surprise you bury your face into your arms again- if you couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see you, right? The three girls look between one another, slightly confused. Not at your behaviour, but more at how you- a mere child- had managed to get yourself up into the castle. The one standing in the middle, one with red, oddly shaved hair, crouched down in front of you, tilting her head curiously. She glanced over her shoulder at the other two fly women, who shrugged at her; they didn’t know who you were or how you got into the castle either. “Child?” The one in front of you spoke, her voice like silk to your ears, especially after their piercing laughs and the roars of the Lycans. You shakily lift your head up again, looking up at her with tears of fear starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. She holds her hand out to you, trying to give you a smile of reassurance. It works to some extent, though you don’t have too much of a choice other than to take the woman’s hand, so you carefully do so. She helps you to your feet, and you see the other two women staring at you. The blonde women looks to the last one, a brunette wearing a yellow variation of the pendant worn by all three. “Go tell mother.” The blonde said to her, to which the brunette burst into a cloud of flies in reply, swooping off down a hall. You give a yelp of surprise, hiding behind the legs of the woman who’s hand you still clutch to. She looks at you, confused for a second.

She sighs, and starts to tug you along. “Come on.” She urges, rather impatiently, dragging you off down a side hall, where you can hear a couple of voices as you approach another door. The blonde woman pushes the door open, “Mother.” She greets, speaking to someone sitting in a plush, velvety chair. Whoever is sitting down places a crimson glass on a small table in front of her, before getting to her feet. “Well, let’s take a look at the child.” She speaks, and your jaw practically drops at her height. You hardly even reach her knees. You’re not sure whether to remain in awe, or to let the fright and fear set in. She looks down at you, regarding you briefly before starting to smile. “Why... I don’t see why you were so panicked, Cassandra...” She spoke to the brunette stood beside her chair, sent ahead of the other two with you. “Look at her- she poses no threat. It was chance she happened upon us, was it not?” She looked to the woman, who has lowered her head respectfully. “Yes, mother.” She replied, before moving her gaze over to you again. “What are we to do with her? She is human, what if-” “Ah-ah.” The tall woman interrupts. “No what-ifs.” She says sternly, before turning her attention fully to you. “What happened to your family, little one?” She asks, not bothering to get down on your level. You take a moment to answer, which the Lady of the castle allows, considering you are merely a child, and in a strange new environment. She could understand any fear you may have, she has been there herself in the past. “The.. The monsters.” You squeak, and the woman hums softly, looking at her three daughters briefly.

In her mind, you were a child without a family, a child with need of a home and a family. She gave a curt nod to herself, folding her arms over her chest. “Well, then we shall be your new family.” She tells you, and the shock is clear on your face. “What..?” You whisper, your voice hardly audible to any of the other women in the room. “We shall be your new family.” She declares proudly again, “These are your new sisters. Bela.” She gestures to the woman still holding loosely onto your hand, with the shaved red hair. “Daniela.” She gestured to the blonde woman on the other side of you, “And Cassandra.” She placed a hand on the shoulder of the girl closest to her. “And you can call me mother.” She smiled brightly at you, stepping forward slightly, and bending down, opening her arms to you. “Come here, child.” She coos to you, as Bela drops your hand. You shuffle towards her, and as soon as you’re close enough, she scoops you up into her arms, resting you against her shoulder, cradling you with a warm smile. “Come now, let us find you a room...” She whispers, and as she starts walking through the seemingly endless maze of hallways you feel yourself drifting off to sleep in the arms of.. Well, your mother. Despite only just meeting her, you feel safe with her and her daughters, your sisters. You knew you’d be happy here, happier than you would be anywhere else, especially in the ruins of the village you once called home.

------

Part two

#tall vampire lady #lady d #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina x reader #lady alcina #alcina dimitrescu

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