#that's my silver lining for poor nico's face :(

[alpineshift]

How do you think Jack reacted to seeing Nico’s face being cut and all that blood?

Only to see him come back out like ten mins later and finish out the game.

Only to see him end the game with blood dripping down his face because the cut reopened.

ooooh boy 😳😳

-probably outwardly calm to those who only know him peripherally and outwardly & internally freaking out to those who know him well

-completely zoned in on the game while it happened (he's watching it at ass o'clock live in the US with the time difference)

-I imagine he's supposed to be getting some R&R post-surgery so he's definitely not telling Nico he saw the injury happen live

-I'm also imagining the two of them went on this ridiculous self-imposed no contact stint so "Jack can focus on resting and healing without me distracting him" >Nico (misses Jack so badly it hurts) and "I want him to be able to compete at 110% without me distracting him" >Jack (misses Nico so badly he's climbing up the walls)

-and everyone is like "a ten minute FaceTime is NOT going to ruin anything" but sadly they're lovely fools in love

-(detests all the photos that surface after with all the gory details)

-detests seeing Nico return in a 49 jersey with the energy of a cat that doesn't like where you've moved his water bowl (slightly to the left)

-detests the fact that Nico reopened the cut (and is kinda proud of him for pushing/playing hard but he's Not Happy and they Will Have Words later)

-and now the game's long over and it's missing Nico hours in his room, where he's curled up under a blanket, feeling achey, wearing one of Nico's old Devils zip-ups, hungry bc he hasn't eaten yet and tired from waking up early and wrist cramping from holding his phone up to watch. and all he wants to do is to fly to Prague and cup Nico's face between both hands and kiss the cut better but he can't, because he's here and Nico is so far away and they haven't talked in what feels like ages—

-he's opening up their chat before he can stop himself, typing out a message even tho he knows he's breaking their rule, hi babe, is your face okay?, and then immediately feeling bad because now he's distracting Nico, who's doing so well, who doesn't need him to act clingy, and Jack's so envious of everyone that gets to play with him after their season ended bc all he can think is that should've been us, together, chasing that silver dream—

-and then his phone lights up no less than ten seconds later (even tho he has to be exhausted, in pain, probably in dire need of a long rest) with a FaceTime request from 'Nico - LOML'

[eirianerisdar]

F, K, M!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I'm going to share one Silm-based one and one F1-based Brocedes one. This is going to get really long so I'll put it under a read more:

Excerpt 1: from chapter 30 of Icarus - Lewis and Nico's first proper meeting in years, after Lewis has grown out his wings again. Lewis thinks his newly-whole wings aren't up to the flight home and Nico has opinions about that.

Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.” Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.” Lewis bristles. “Easy for you to say,” he spits. “You’ve had six years to learn the air patterns and train up your wings. Don’t pretend we’re on equal footing.” Nico’s face whitens. For a moment Lewis thinks Nico will punch him; but Nico only exhales and looks over his shoulder at the cliff edge. “It’s not as complicated than it looks,” he says abruptly. “It’s just that new building down where the road splits, and that paved road cutting through the trees there. It breaks up the current that used to flow down from–” “Thanks, Nico,” Lewis says sarcastically. “I’m sure that’ll be really helpful when I’m trying to navigate something I can’t see.” “Just–” Nico closes his eyes briefly. His voice softens. “Just stay on my wing,” he says quietly. “I’ll guide you down.” Lewis looks at the cliff edge. He swallows. Nico’s eyes are a clear, intense blue. “I won’t leave you,” he says. “I promise.” Like that fucking meant anything the last time you said it, Lewis thinks. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because Nico’s eyes shutter. Lewis grits his teeth. He feels like an arse. He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?” Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong. “Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.

They're both yearning so much here but they've been fighting so long they fall back on old patterns of toxicity. But really what Nico is saying here is I'll believe in you even if you don't, because I've always believed in you, and Lewis is saying last time you promised me anything you left F1 and me behind. Nico's last line is ride-or-die I'm with you to the end of the line

Excerpt 2: From The Shadow of a Friend, when Celebrimbor and Elrond confront a captive Sauron in Valinor:

Annatar’s lips twist, his beautiful features flickering for an instant into a crumbling, decaying mask, and Celebrimbor has a sudden revelation. “No,” he murmurs, “You do not know me at all.” Annatar – Sauron’s teeth are bared in a snarl, now, but Celebrimbor looks at him and sees only the shadow of an old friend. “You do not know me,” Celebrimbor says, and stands straighter, shaking off Elrond’s hand on his shoulder. “And to say nothing of smith-work. You are a poor excuse for a smith, no matter how much I once taught you.” “Do you so insult your own skill?” Sauron laughs. “Why, I have succeeded in breaking you after all.” “No,” Celebrimbor says, meeting the false gold of Sauron’s gaze. “My youngest apprentice is a far greater smith than you. You only see beauty in the sharpness of a blade and the power of enchanted rings. You do not see the beauty in the pewter cup a mother brings to the lips of her child; you do not see the beauty in the brief glory of a summer flower, or the warmth of a fire, except to burn. You are broken, Mairon. I am not.” Sauron barks a laugh. “You are picking false silver from river-mud, old friend.” “Am I?” Celebrimbor leans closer, close enough that the hum of the enchantment that surrounds the cage rises to a ringing howl of warning. “Thou, craven filth, who was once the mightiest craftsman of Aulë’s people. Thou might have many more years than I, but I too was once welcome in Aulë’s house. Aulë’s smith-work was of beauty and of life. He thought not of the sharpness of a sword or the burning of a flame. Thou hast lost thy craft, Mairon. Even if thou knowest it not.” Sauron’s face twists in furious rage, and Celebrimbor knows he has struck the winning blow. “I have changed you!” Sauron’s scream ricochets about the walls as the throws himself against the bars of the cage; the runes glow white-hot, burning great chasms into the crumbling mask of Annatar. “I will haunt your waking dreams until Arda is unmade!” “No, you will not,” Celebrimbor says, and is surprised to find it is the truth. “I have passed through Námo’s Halls. I am healed. And though I believe it might require a little while, I cannot imagine thinking of you very often after another yení or two. You are but a single foul breath in the lifetime of the Eldar, and the westward wind is strong.”

^The whole first three chapters of the fic built up to this point. Celebrimbor realises he is loved and can love again, and that he is not defined by the terrible things that Annatar his once-friend did to him. He understands the hope of the Eldar in the West, and at last begins to heal.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Honestly probably Chapters 18-21 of Icarus. Daniel has hidden his injuries and Max is dealing with his abusive father to the point where Max ends up abandoning Daniel at the worst possible time. Cue the whumpiest, angstiest, hurt-no-comfort section I've ever written. The comfort comes at the end of chapter 21. But still.

(Sorry Zanna I keep blathering on about F1)

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I've answered M here! (Still deep in the F1 brain, unfortunately there's not many other premises I'm thinking about in other fandoms currently except for my WIPs I need to finish)

Send me a fanfic ask!

[sugar-and-pearls]

Christmas Dinner Party Rush

“Klarion! We’re going to be late!” Black kitten heels clicked across the hardwood floor. Light danced across cat eye glasses as her eyes scanned the room. Empty, like the last five rooms she had been in. Mai sighed and walked to another room. If she had known it was going to be this hard she wouldn’t have agreed to her Aunt Cheryl's invite to a Christmas dinner with the rest of her dad’s side of the family. Her black dress silky dress flowed like water as she walked from room to room. Filled with embroidered patterns of flowers and skulls, a gift from her mother for Samhain.

“Klarion? Come on, Dad is going to be here any minute to pick us up!”

She opened the door to her room only to find Klarion half hanging out from under the bed with Teekl laying on the bottom of it with a fluffy throw blanket. Her red painted lips morphed into a pout. 

“Please tell me you aren’t searching my room to see where I’ve hidden the presents?” she begged exasperatedly. Every year Klarion would try and find his present before Christmas. It bugged him to no end the fact that Mai was better at finding hiding spots for the gifts. He almost found them this year already when she left him alone to go shopping with Nico. Now she had them stored away in Chise’s attic, thousands of miles away from where they were. Still she had to let him think they were still here lest he go looking for them elsewhere. 

Klarion wriggled his way out from under the bed and stood upright. To Mai’s dismay his clothes were a mess. The previously ironed black suit was crinkled and dust clinging to velvet fabric.

“Come here”  Mai pulled him over to her by his tie, making him stand still as she tried to fix his appearance. He pouted  and looked away but made no attempt to move away from her. She knew he could see how nervous she was. Perhaps it was part of him being a Lord of Chaos or due to how long they had known each other. 

“Why do we have to go? You don’t even like them?” 

She fixed his tie. It's paisley pattern moved with his mood, swirling like ink in water making it stand out against the white of the shirt beneath. She thought of her poor dad and his bastard of a father. She thought of her uncle, aunt and cousin who let Thomas act the way he did and she felt a sharp anger rise up in her. 

“I don’t like them. But it's Christmas”

She licked the pad of her thumb and whipped a dark smudge mark off his robin egg blue skin. 

“ and their family” 

Fingers dusted away dust from the inky dark hair. Along with the dirt she dusted away the memories of self self dislike she had for herself. Even though Mai was now finally happy with her inhumanness she still wanted to know about her more normal side of the family. 

“And Christmas is a time for family”

She pressed her hands onto his suit and ironed the lines off. It wasn’t perfect but it would do. 

“Besides, how am I supposed to be a petty bitch if they can’t see me?” she grinned at him, her gaze rooted on fixing the last few buttons on his coat. Mai looked up only to see Klarion’s grinning face as his spindly blue fingers grasped onto the underside of her jaw and pressed their foreheads to each other. She leaned into him, rubbing her nose together with his.

“Oh! Almost forgot this” she moved away to the drawer and picked up something before throwing it to him. It sailed through the air till it abruptly stopped  and gently floated towards Klarion, dropping into his outstretched hand. Without looking he knew what it was. Cufflinks, silver and engraved with the Mannaz rune. Charmed to make him look like a normal human boy. Klarion put them on as his familiar Teekl climbed onto his shoulder. Through the mirror near him he could see the blueness of his skin morph to a chalk white. His eyes became a lighter shade of brown (though they were still too dark to be normal). Mai flashed him a tender smile, rubbing his upper arms and hugging him from behind as he stared at them through the mirror. 

A loud “BEEP” interrupted them. That must be John. Quicker than the Flash, Mai grabbed Klarion’s hands and pulled him to the front door. It might not be the perfect dinner to go to but with the right person it could still be an awful lot of fun.

[0idril0]

May I request based on the reblog about ‘new normal’ you just did a much later Nico & Clint, maybe Nico trying to do art again or school or cook or something and struggling ??

Nico’s head was pounding as he laid the last lines on the paper in front of him, teeth grinding as he forced his eyes to focus. For just a few more minutes.

Please.

“F-Fuckin’ finally...” he slammed the color pencil down, scrubbing his aching hand against his eyes until colors swirled behind the lids. The drawing was already imprinted in his head, a wolf head that he hoped resembled Clint’s, surrounded by a multitude of wild flowers. It was more frilly than what he usually did, he tended to gravitate towards reds and blacks and more forgiving mediums, working around the continued seizures and poor eyesight. But it felt important for what he was trying to portray.

His mate surrounded by softness and love in the form that Clint said looked beastly and terrifying.

He didn’t know when Clint had started to think of his wolf form that way, but he hoped it was before they had ever met. Clint had let slip more than a month before that he was scared of being around Sorina and Evans new baby, worried he might slip a little and scar the baby for life.

Nico had immediately told him that it was a ridiculous thought, but the doubt and hesitancy that colored his face when he’d turned back towards the the group of people gathered around the new bundle was enough to send a lance through Nico’s heart.

And the worst part was he didn’t know what to say. He’d never been good with words, and now with the brain damage, he was even worse. And there was only so many ways to kiss sense into a stubborn werewolf.

But maybe he could show him. Clint’s wolf had always been a source of comfort for him, his beautiful russet fur the softest pillow, the warmth he emitted a constant comfort when he’d been too emaciated to regulate his own body heat. A gentle crutch when Nico needed help but couldn’t tolerate human touch.

And the man himself had the biggest and kindest heart of anyone he’d ever met. The fact that Clint thought any part of him could be a danger to his niece was horrifying.

“Uuuuugh....” Nico scrubbed at his eyes again before scratching at his short beard, an attempt at hiding the scars that still spotted his cheeks from deep ulcers that had had difficulty healing. “It’s g-gonna have to do...”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, like it was going to help him focus at all, he scrutinized his work. Before Martin he would have said it was still a work in progress..... but now? It was one of the better things he’d done in a while. He’d moved away from realism when he’d been able to pick up a pencil again, the migraines hadn’t been worth the fight, and paint was more forgiving.

The color pencil was smudged at the corners, the lines shaky in areas where a crisp finish would have made the piece stand out, but the wolfs face was Clint’s, highlighted with yellows like he was basking in the sun, a delicate blue butterfly contrasting with his red fur and half lidded green eyes beautifully.

It was his mate. A giant, gentle, protector of a man that hadn’t moved for 20 minutes when that stupid butterfly had landed on him at last years Fourth of July party.

He felt his mouth twitch at the memory, pulling at some of the scars on his mouth and cheek. His Mate was ridiculous.

Nico could hear Clint’s rumbling snore from his drafting table, the wolf had been running in the woods for hours today and had returned a few hours ago soaking wet and panting. When he’d returned he’d stuck his head into the sunroom where Nico was, lupine grin smug as he’d tried to sneak around to see the drawing Nico had kept from him for over a month now.

Nico hadn’t been able to help his snicker when he’d shoved at his over sized head, scratching in the spot Clint loved as he did so, “Go dry-dry off, I’ll s-show you when I’m done.” Clint’s tail has wagged so hard Nico had been able to hear the thump through the cabin walls, but his wine was truly pitiful when he’d slunked out and flopped onto the porch to bask in the sunlight. The sunny happiness Nico could feel through their bond betrayed Clint’s attempt to guilt him into a sneak peak, and Nico hoped it would be worth it now.

Daniel’s cane was propped up against his desk and Nico rubbed a thumb over the silver handle as he picked it up, using the object just like Daniel had for years before he’d died. Nico had found it tucked in the back of the shop when he’d finally been able to return and had swapped for the heirloom as soon as he was able to ditch the walker.

The initial thunk against the hardwood has Clint’s ears twitching as he comes out, a high pitched yawn following it as Nico shuffled further onto the porch.

“H-h-hey Honeyb-b-bear....”

Clint rolled onto his back at Nico’s greeting, legs and paws stretching to full effect as Clint yawned loudly and rumbled his own wolfy greeting back, squinted eyes finding Nico as his tail swished against the hard wood. “Sugar..” Nico heard the echo in his head, and snickered around a grin at the nearly 300 lbs wolf at his feet. Clint’s tongue rolled out of his mouth in a lupine laugh and Nico couldn’t keep his own smile down, even as broken and ugly as he thought it was now.

“Come-onnn, y—ou goof, you wannned to see -this right?” Nico shook the paper in his hand, backing up like he was going to go inside.

Clint’s jaw snapped shut as his head whipped towards Nico, eyes wide in question now. Really??? Nico could read the question clear as day on his face and grinned. “I c-could change my mind...”

He made to take a step back and Clint whined, stretching, this time muscles and bones popping as he morphed back into his human form. Where there’d been a ridiculously large wolf now lay an extremely large, naked man, toned muscles stretched to full effect as he reached for Nico, making grabby hands as he whined again with his human throat.

“Babbbbbyyyyy.... come back??? Show me here??”

Clint’s teasing grin and wink did nothing to help the burning blush that was creeping across his face and neck, headache forgotten as he swallowed heavily at the sight in front of him.

“Fine-“ His voice came out a squeak, and he cleared his throat, scowling at Clint’s snort of laughter. “-Fine, you’ll have—help me s-stand up...”

Clint’s grumbling turned deeper as he turned towards Nico, grin mischievous, “Like I would pass up the opportunity to get my hands on you...”

Nico grinned at Clint’s joke, knowing the wolf wouldn’t touch him without his permission, skin heating at the thought of Clint’s hands against him today. He loved Clints hands, long solid fingers and thick padded palms that had sooth so much and given him so much pleasure in the past few years.

He groaned as he slid down to the porch, using the bannister and accepting Clint’s hand against the small of his back as support, knowing the werewolf’s strength would be more than enough to catch him even from the awkward angle. His hip protested bending and Clint’s thumb rubbed small circles into his back when he settled heavily on the porch.

“Fuuuuck....” he groaned loudly, careful to keep the drawing turned away from Clint’s prying eyes as he flopped dramatically onto Clint’s bare chest.

Clint grunted around a laugh as Nico landed, sun warmed arms wrapping around him as he maneuvered Nico closer. “Hi Sugar....” Clint nibbled on Nico’s neck and snuggled closer. “You finished that drawin’ you’ve been teasin’ me with??”

Nico smiled as he felt the nerves that had been fluttering in his stomach settle in Clint’s calm presence, and he brought his scarred hand up to tangle in Clint’s hair.

“T-told you, surprise.....” He leaned into the kiss in his cheek, grinning. “Hardly- surprise-you get to s-see it...”

Clint chuffed, and Nico could feel the grin spread across his mates face. “I know but I’m about to explode over here, lemme seeeeee-“ he squeezed Nico and rocked him, the fingers pressed into Nico’s skin vibrating with excitement.

Nico took a deep breath, turning to press a gentle kiss to Clint’s curved mouth. The wolf melted, kissing Nico back gently until he pulled away, his green, dilated eyes following Nico’s as he backed up.

“Love you.” Nico turned more, scratching at Clint’s scalp until the low rumble vibrated the chest he leaned on. “Wa-wha-wanted you to see, h-how....” Nico growled, words stuck in his throat, and Clint kissed against his jaw, mimicking a deep breath, and Nico followed suit, unclenching his jaw to continue. “S-so, I-I drew it.”

Nico flipped back, holding the drawing above them, against the blue sky, puffy clouds the perfect backdrop to the tranquil drawing. He heard Clint’s breath catch; rumble stilling as the wolf froze.

Slowly Clint lifted one of his hands from Nico’s stomach, the other keeping Nico pressed firmly against him. “Darlin’, what... what is this??”

Nico could hear the wetness in Clint’s voice, the thin wobble that meant the wolf was getting emotional.

“You-been strugglinn-since Elena was born, scared you’ll hurt her...” Nico swallowed, “but this.... Love, you wouldn’t budge... you’re gentle, an kind..... hate for y-you,-for fear to keep—y-you, from holding her, only t-thing I’ve gotten from being held—by you is love.”

Clint was trembling behind him and Nico bit his lip, doubt working its way back into his mind until Clint started to sit up, Clint’s body doing the work so Nico stayed glued to his chest, arm pulling Nico’s hips flush against his as he re maneuvered their legs. Clint had reburied his face into Nico’s hair, and he heard the wet snuffle as Clint took in his scent, his mates thick arms holding him close. “Darlin’.... I don’t..... I love you...thank you....”

Nico leaned back against Clint, setting the drawing aside so he could catch hold of one of Clint’s hands, the other tangled in the blonde hair as he rubbed a thumb along a delicate ear. “Love you t-too, Honeybear....”

Nico brought Clint’s hand up and kissed along the long digits, heart full as Clint wrapped him further into his arms. Knowing his mate had understood him.

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 1

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3062 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Penguin, Shachi, Bepo, Disco, Eustass Kid, Monkey D. Luffy, Nico Robin, Usopp, Silvers Rayleigh, Jean Bart Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he’s 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law can’t help but resent Monkey D. Luffy for offering a glimpse of something he’s repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

Seven Years Later

Law grumbled to himself as he wound his way through Grove 1 toward Doffy’s auction house. He disliked being sent on errands like this, but he had little choice in the matter. His grip tightened on Kikoku as he glanced behind him to see Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo following a half step behind him. He nodded and kept moving. He was here to do a job, after all.

Sabaody was particularly lively today, with the presence of the so-called Supernovas, ten super rookies with bounties over 100,000,000 berries. Law had never had a bounty of his own, as he’d been the subordinate of a Warlord since he was 17, though he’d often wondered what it might have been had Doflamingo not found him that day in the North Blue.

Though, he supposed, it didn’t really matter. His position had earned him a certain amount of infamy, even without a bounty.

Shachi had the wanted poster for each Supernova, keeping an eye out for any information to be had. Law’s crew had proven itself adept at intel gathering over the years, so they were often sent on such missions. Though today’s job wasn’t reconnaissance, that didn’t mean there weren’t any rumors to dig up while in the lawless zones of Sabaody—especially with such interesting figures on hand. Getting a preview of the next generation of pirates to enter the New World could be valuable.

As they moved in the direction of the auction house, Shachi pointed out some of the Supernova, including X Drake from the North Blue and Mad Monk Urouge. Law took note of each one with passing interest; while they might seem impressive after making their way through Paradise, he doubted most of them would last in the New World. Over the years, many rookies had made their names before arriving at Sabaody only to fall quite spectacularly in the second half of the Grand Line. Law had learned to keep his expectations low and had thus stopped paying so much attention to the rookies until they did something to earn the attention.

Penguin threw Law a confused look as they headed for the front door of the auction house rather than the back entrance, but Law shook the other man off. Penguin shrugged and followed his lead; these three had been dealing with his moods since he was a teenager, so this was hardly anything new. The guards at the auction house gaped as they approached, scrambling to greet them.

“C-corazon!” one stammered as another grabbed the door. “We didn’t know to expect you today!”

“Please, come in! Should we get Disco for you?”

Law waved them off. “No need. And no need to tell Disco-ya I’m here either. I’ll find him after business is done for the day.” Law couldn’t stand the slaver and wanted to spend as little time in his presence as possible.

“Of course.”

The guards bowed Law, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo into the auction house. Law took a seat toward the back, draping his arms over the back of the bench, the others filling in around him. He handed Kikoku to Bepo, who took the nodachi without a word, and casually surveyed the room. When the Celestial Dragons waltzed in, Law ground his teeth but said nothing. It wasn’t part of his mission today.

“Well, well, well,” a gravelly voice said from behind Law. “It looks like there are some big names here today. First Celestial Dragons and now the second-in-command of the Donquixote Pirates. I’ve heard some nasty rumors about you, Corazon.”

Law turned his head to see a ragtag group of pirates standing at the back of the auction house. The redhead in the garish pants was clearly the leader; he stood out front of the others and exuded arrogance.

“Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid,” Shachi murmured. “He has the highest bounty of all the Supernova. His first mate, Killer, is also on the list.”

Law considered this then proceeded to flip the rookie captain off, smirking, before looking away. He heard Eustass laugh.

“Shit manners though.”

“Politeness won’t get you far in the New World, Eustass-ya,” Law said without looking back. The New World tended to humble people like Eustass Kid, Law knew from experience.

“Yeah?” Eustass had stepped down to stand adjacent to Law’s row of seats. “I suppose you’d know all about the New World, working for a government dog.”

Law glanced his way but turned his attention back to the empty stage. Petty taunts rolled off him; he’d heard far worse over the years, often from his own Family.

“What, nothing to say?”

Law rolled his eyes. “I’m busy.”

Eustass snorted. “You look it.”

Law nodded toward the stage. “You see the Jolly Roger on the wall there? If you know who I am, then you know who owns this place.” He gave Eustass an unimpressed look. “I’m here on business.”

Whatever Eustass was going to say was drowned out as the emcee took to the stage to introduce Disco and begin the auction. Baring a few teeth, Law made a shooing motion at Eustass to dismiss him. The rookie captain growled lowly but headed back to his crew to observe.

“Was that a good idea?” Bepo asked, glancing at the rookie crew and back toward Law.

Law shrugged, unconcerned. “He’ll be missing a heart before he can try anything.” And maybe a few other limbs. Being around the slave trade put Law in a foul mood, and an outlet would be welcome. The sooner the auction ended, the sooner Law could find Disco and finish his job.

Law paid little attention to the auction until Disco brought out a pirate who bit off his own tongue, choosing death over slavery. The scene was bloody and the auction house descended into horror, but Law couldn’t blame the poor son of a bitch; he briefly considered the day Doffy had found him and his own terror at being reclaimed by the Family. What would have happened if he’d tried a stunt like that?

Doffy probably would have stitched his tongue back together with his Fruit and then taken out Law’s disobedience on Bepo, Shachi, or Penguin. He had made it clear over the last seven years that neither would Law be the architect of his own death nor would he get out of the Family again so easily.

The weak do not choose how they die, he thought with distaste before turning his thoughts back to the present.

The auction was briefly back on track when Disco brought out a mermaid, but the room fell into utter chaos once another Supernova (Monkey D. Luffy, Shachi noted amidst the confusion) came blasting through the wall… and then proceeded to punch one of the Celestial Dragons in the face.

Now that might be deserving of attention, Law thought with no little amusement before noticing Disco fleeing from the stage. As the Straw Hats jumped into action against the guards and the occupants of the auction house fled for the front door, Law knew he couldn’t put his task off any longer. He grabbed Kikoku from Bepo, the only warning to his crew that he was on the move.

He opened a Room and switched places with the podium on the stage, moving the moment his feet hit the wood in pursuit of the slaver and auctioneer. The chaos behind him barely registered as he followed the man backstage. He jogged past guards running toward the stage. He knew he got a few open stares, but he ignored them now that he was on the hunt for his prey. His status meant no one would dare stop him here anyway.

Law stopped at the door to what seemed to be Disco’s office. The man stood at his desk and was fumbling with a Den Den Mushi.

“No need to call Joker, Disco-ya,” Law said, leaning against the doorway.

Disco jerked badly, the snail slipping from his fingers and clattering to the desk. He whirled around. “Corazon?” he squeaked. “What are you doing here?” Then he seemed to collect himself. “Shouldn’t you be helping get the situation under control? This is Joker’s operation.”

Law shrugged, uninterested. “I’m here with a message from Doflamingo, not to clean up your messes.”

Disco paled. “W-what kind of message couldn’t he send over Den Den Mushi?”

Law lifted his free hand and opened a Room.

Disco gaped like a fish out of water at the small blue dome encompassing him. “P-please, no! Corazon! I’ve been loyal! I’ve done everything Joker asked of me.”

“And he’s grateful for your cooperation,” Law replied, straightening. He withdrew Kikoku from her sheath, the sword humming in anticipation. “But he’s decided it’s time to move on to newer ventures.”

“N-newer ventures?” The auctioneer couldn’t pull his eyes from the nodachi in Law’s hand.

“Nothing for you to worry about, Disco-ya. It’s just business.”

The man’s scream was drowned out by the rest of the chaos in the auction house.

-----

Returning from his completed errand at a more leisurely pace, Law paused as he felt a wave of Conqueror’s Haki rush through the auction house, causing his skin to prickle, followed a few moments later by an explosion. He frowned. Who was on hand that could use that? Could one of those Supernova…?

He hurried back to the stage to see the auction house guards unconscious. The only people standing were the Straw Hats—more of whom had appeared while Law was taking care of his task—the Kid Pirates, Law’s own crew, and…

“Dark King Rayleigh,” Law said, lips lifting in a smirk. The Family’s spies had put the man on the island, though he was running a ship coating business these days—when he wasn’t gambling. Law wasn’t expecting to run into the living legend, though.

The older man, mermaid on his back, turned back toward the stage. His eyes landed on Law, and he raised an eyebrow. With a quick Room and Shambles, Law switched places with the podium and was once more standing with his crew.

“Whoa!” Straw Hat Luffy gaped. “That was so cool! And what’s up with the bear?”

“What?” Bepo started.

Rayleigh simply turned his gaze to Law’s new position. “Now, now. Don’t use that name when so many Marines are around. Not all of us have immunity from the government.”

“Luffy,” a female voice said. Law glanced to see Nico Robin, the Demon Child, standing near the Straw Hat captain. She was eyeing him warily. “That’s Corazon. He’s the second-in-command of the Donquixote Family. Be careful.”

“Donquixote? The Warlord?” the one with the long-nose squawked.

“See the Jolly Roger on the wall?” Nico Robin said. “This auction house is owned by Donquixote Doflamingo.”

The gathered pirates looked between the symbol on the wall and the damage throughout the building before turning to Law, stances turning defensive.

Law raised his hands. “I’m not interested in a fight.” He’d done what he’d come here to do. He was ready to get off this shithole of an island, even if that meant returning to Dressrosa. “But you all might want to get moving. The whole place is surrounded by Marines.”

“Marines?”

“They surrounded the place not long after the auction started,” Law replied. “I don’t know who they were here to catch, but the attack on a family of Celestial Dragons only riled them up more.” He couldn’t help his lips turning upward at that. “I’d recommend leaving before an admiral arrives.”

“What about you?” Straw Hat asked.

Law shrugged and gestured to himself and his crew. “Government dogs, remember?”

Eustass snorted and turned toward the door. “Well, I have no interest in facing an admiral today. I did get to see Straw Hat Luffy pull some crazy shit, though, so I’m satisfied.” He threw a hand up in a wave. “We’ll even lend you guys a hand and clean up outside on our way out.”

Law snorted as it was clear Straw Hat Luffy took that as a personal affront, immediately following the other pirate, voice rising in indignation. He watched as the remaining members sighed long-sufferingly and trailed their captain. Law received a few more suspicious looks as the pirates and their friends passed him, but Law had no intention of getting involved—fighting against the Marines was against the rules for the Warlords and their subordinates, after all.

It wasn’t long before Law could hear gunfire and yelling coming from outside the auction house. He thought he could make out the sound of gleeful laughter as well.

Law’s lips curled upward in spite of himself. “Monkey D. Luffy, huh?”

Another D, Cora-san…

Law turned back to Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo. They were watching him curiously.

Law frowned at them. “What?”

“Nothing,” Penguin said immediately.

Law narrowed his eyes. “Out with it.”

The trio was saved from having to answer when Law’s Den Den Mushi started ringing. Law sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course he would be checking in for an update. Law pulled the snail from his pocket and answered, knowing how the man got when Law took too long to answer.

“Doffy.”

“Corazon. Is the job done?”

Law blinked at the immediate question. Doffy was usually chattier when he called; it was one of Law’s least favorite things about him—among many least favorite things. “Yes. Disco-ya’s no longer a concern.”

“Good. Don’t set sail yet, though. I need you to stay on Sabaody for now.”

Law grimaced. “For what?”

“You may be needed in Marineford soon.”

Law glanced at the other three, bemused. They shrugged in return. “Why?”

A snort. “Haven’t you seen the paper?”

“I’ve been a bit busy with the errand you sent me on,” Law replied irritably.

“The Marines have set Fire Fist’s execution. They’re summoning all the Warlords to be there.”

Law felt his stomach drop as the implications hit him. There were some hissed breaths to his side as the others came to the same conclusion Law had.

“Do they want a war?”

“Seems that way.” Unsurprisingly, Doffy sounded practically giddy at that. He was a warmonger and profiteer, after all. “Which is why I may need you.”

“Right,” he said blandly. A war between the Marines and the Whitebeard Pirates was exactly the last thing he wanted to get pulled into.

“Corazon.” Doflamingo’s voice had a warning edge to it.

Law pursed his lips but knew better than to argue. “We’ll stay on Sabaody and be ready to sail.”

“Better.”

Once the call ended, Law sighed and dropped the snail back into his pocket. “Guess we’re not leaving after all.”

“This is going to be ugly, isn’t it?” Penguin asked.

“No doubt.” Law rubbed a hand over his face before looking toward the auction house entrance. “Sounds like things have quieted down. Let’s head out.”

When the four reached the entrance, Law let out a surprised huff as he surveyed the scene. There was mass chaos, as Marines were littered across the ground as well as rushing around the help the wounded. The Straw Hat and Kid Pirates seemed to have already fled, though.

“Looks like the rookies did some damage,” Law chuckled. “Not bad.”

A few Marines looked up to see them and yelled, scrabbling for their weapons. “More pirates coming from the auction house!”

“Stand down, idiots!” one of the commanders called back. “They’re with Donquixote. Leave them alone.”

Law’s eye twitched at that, but he didn’t argue as he led Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo down the steps. He paused at the sight of a large slave left abandoned outside the house. After a moment, Law blinked; he knew this man.

“Pirate captain Jean Bart,” he greeted.

The large man looked down at him, startled. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that.”

“It would be a shame to leave a man like you in shackles,” Law said, forming a Room and using Kikoku to slice through the collar around Jean Bart’s neck. It fell to the ground with a harmless clank.

Jean Bart put a hand to his neck, eyes wide in disbelief. “How?”

“Devil Fruit,” Law replied simply, making a small Room in his palm before letting it go.

“Why? They,” Jean Bart said, nodding back toward the Marines, “said you work for Donquixote Doflamingo.” Or, Law translated, they said you work for one of the biggest names in the slave trade.

“It’s complicated,” Penguin said.

“That, and I’m happy to fuck over the Celestial Dragons in any way I can,” Law replied with a shrug. He glanced around, noting the Marines gaping at him for daring to free a Celestial Dragon’s slave. He saluted them with a smirk before turning back to Jean Bart. “If I were you, I’d get out of here quickly; shit’s about to get ugly.”

“You don’t want me to serve under you in return for my freedom?” After all, why free him if not to get something in return?

“You wouldn’t be much freer under me than here.”

The former captain frowned at him. “You don’t serve Doflamingo willingly?”

“Like we said, it’s complicated,” Shachi added.

Jean Bart looked between them. “I see no collars on your necks, no man riding on your back. Nothing could be worse than that.” He shook his head. “I have nothing but the rags on my back. My crew is either dead or enslaved. My family is long dead. Where would I go?” He swallowed. “If you’d have me, I’d serve under a man who would free a slave that others ignored and gladly taunt the Celestial Dragons to do it.”

Law glanced back at Shachi, Bepo, and Penguin. They looked back at him steadily, as if to say, Your choice, Captain.

Law’s crew—though they were part of the Donquixote Pirates, their original name of Heart Pirates had stuck as a nickname among the Family considering Law held the Heart seat—had grown from the original four Doflamingo had taken from the North Blue, but Law was always hesitant to bring on anyone new considering Doflamingo’s use of his crew to assure Law’s good behavior. Somehow, he’d still found a loyal group who willingly followed him despite his warnings to the contrary; he had no idea what he’d done to deserve them.

“All right,” Law said finally. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Next Chapter

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Chapter 13

Behind the Masks

Warnings for gore and murder, but there’s a bit of fluff at the end for once :3

Word count - 4,121

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

-------------

---V---

He woke to the sound of cursing. Bright light shone through his closed lids and a faint aroma he vaguely recognized teased at his nostrils. Comforting warmth enveloped him, the product of a bulky knitted blanket. He was horizontal, how did that happen?

More importantly, where am I?

More cursing. Heavy steps, someone pacing. That voice, he knew that voice…

“What the fuck, what the fuck, I’m gonna go to jail. What the fuck?!”

Dark lashes parted, painfully slowly to give his pupils time to adjust. Plain beige walls greeted him, tasteful art placed in strategic positions throughout the space. Modern furniture dotted the room, arranged to make it seem more spacious than it was. He was lying on a couch, black leather and minimalistic. To his right, a modest TV hung upon the wall beside a small desk with a laptop resting on it. The accursed beanie rested on a coffee table nearby.

“Shit, what the fuck, I’ve lost my mind! What was I thinking?”

The artist sat up and tugged the offensively itchy fabric back into place on his scalp, struggling to organize his thoughts. This must be your home, but how did he get here? The last thing he remembered was the museum, and then…

He licked his lips. What a sweet memory. After such a display, it wouldn’t be much longer before he filled you with more than his fingers.

“V! Finally!” 

His smirk turned to a frown as your quick footsteps brought your worried face into his line of sight. “What do you mean, finally?”

“You’ve been unresponsive for three hours. How do you feel? Let me check your vitals,” you began, already pulling a small flashlight from your pocket to shine in his eyes. 

The artist flinched away, batting at your arm with an annoyed huff. “I’m fine, there’s no need.”

It was sweet of you to fret, but the only lingering effect he noticed was a slight fatigue, and perhaps an irritating itch of deja vu. Nothing alarming, and nothing worth showing weakness, even to you. 

She forgets her place. 

He hummed as you sat back, attentive eyes watching his every move. Vergil was wrong, you didn’t forget your place at all. In fact, he might even say you were where you belonged for the first time.

At his side.

Lithe fingers lifted to dance across your cheekbone, stealing a quiet sigh from your lips. So responsive, so lovely and delicious. His hand drifted lower, his thumb curling to wrap around your slim neck and pull you closer. Your pulse fluttered under his touch even as you instinctively resisted, like any prey facing its predator.

His mind went deliciously blank as your lips met his. Your small hands pressed against his chest as if to fend him off, but with each shift of his mouth, your attempts weakened. Leather squeaked as he leaned closer, shifting his body to curve over you. Another way to assert his dominance.

Yet you still rebelled against his will, stubbornly refusing to lower yourself to lie beneath him properly. True, you would be his equal if he had his way, but for now…

He tightened his grip on your neck until you succumbed. It was a delicate balance to cut off the blood supply to your brain yet to leave your airway unencumbered, and his fingers itched to clamp down and claim his prize. 

How exquisite you’d be, flaying your first victim and carving your way to the truth. Splashes of scarlet on your smooth skin, glimmering silver in your palm and a smile on your face. Oh, how delightful it would be to bury himself in you in the aftermath, when you were still drunk on discovery. 

He pressed his hips into your thigh, letting you feel the ache you woke with a soft groan. The same hands that once pushed him away now danced under his shirt, feather soft touches caressing his skin. Heavenly.

The fires of lust in his cock turned to ice as a sharp knock rang from the wooden front door. Surely you hadn’t betrayed him? Jade eyes searched your expression, digging beneath the panic and confusion to find any hint of disloyalty hidden beneath, yet he saw only more of the same. No, you clearly didn’t expect company.

A second knock, more insistent than the first. Whoever it was, they lacked patience.

“Shit, uhh… fuck,” you mumbled, extricating yourself from his grasp. “It might be my dad… fuck.”

He didn’t like the look on your face, not one bit. “Would you like me to remove him?”

“What?! Have you lost your- no, I do not want you to ‘remove’ my father!”

Yeesh, it was just a question!

He didn’t quite understand. It was a simple offer, you didn’t need to make a fuss. Besides, if the man’s existence brought such an expression, he clearly needed to be dealt with. Perhaps you’d change your mind?

“Look, just… I’ll handle it, you go upstairs and keep quiet,” you said. “Fuck!”

The artist frowned but did as you asked, climbing the narrow staircase to crouch behind a conveniently placed shelf. Blood pounded in his ears, a clammy film coating his palms. If ever you would betray him, now was the moment. When no blade waited in his hand for an offering, when he had no chance of escape. His fate rested in the choices you made over the next few minutes.

The door opened to reveal two figures, though the angle was poor and he couldn’t discern any details. It didn’t particularly matter who they were; none could know he was here.

“Oh! Officer Redgrave, Officer Goldstein, what can I do for you?”

Officers? They’re cops?! You gotta get outta here!

Yet he ignored the avian voice. Why bother telling him to hide if you were turning him in? It didn’t make sense, something else was going on. More information was required before selecting a response.

A low voice replied, though the words were a mystery. You widened the opening and gestured for the strangers to enter, shooting a surreptitious glance his way. The artist ducked lower, just in time as the two figures entered.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess.”

“Aw, this ain’t nothin’. You should see my place!”

The wooden chairs surrounding your dining table creaked as the strangers made themselves at home. As the duo exchanged pleasantries with you, the artist couldn’t resist peeking around the edge to get a glimpse, now that he might be able to spot a useful detail. He needed to assess the threat and possible outcomes, as if he had any control.

Of course, his eyes went straight to your face to find a stony expression, far too frozen to be natural.

The other two didn’t seem to notice. Fools. How could they ever hope to catch him, when they didn’t even notice he was in the same apartment? It would've made him laugh outright if not for the need for silence.

“So, we got the paperwork finished. You are officially a police consultant, doc. Congrats.”

“Just in time for the next body to drop, too. We’re headed to the scene now, wanna come?”

The artist grinned. Surely you wouldn’t miss the meaning behind his work if you saw it in person? How perfect, he couldn’t have planned it better. 

“Yeah, uh… okay, I’ll just need a few minutes. Can I meet you downstairs?”

The two cops exchanged a look but stood, the female stretching her arms as if she’d been sitting for hours instead of minutes. 

“Sure, just be quick. Every minute counts!”

He ducked back to hide as you escorted the two to the door. The moment the lock slid into place, a deep sigh slipped from your lips. 

Huh, look at that. She didn’t rat you out.

“As if there was any reason to doubt,” he replied quietly. 

I can think of a few!

He rolled his eyes and stood, descending the stairs to find you frantically gathering your things.

“Stay here, okay? I don’t- I don’t know how long I’ll be but you need to stay put, got it?”

He scratched his scalp and nodded, mind already focused elsewhere. It was difficult to focus with so many new things to examine and so much to learn, here in the place you called home. Didn’t most people have photos of loved ones? Where did you keep yours, if not on the walls?

“I’m serious, V. God, this is unbelievable… what am I doing?”

The artist hummed, lips curling in amusement. Watching your metamorphosis was such a delight, what a perfect companion you’d become. 

“You’re doing what you want to, instead of what others expect.”

Your lips pursed, a sharp glare lacking any true weight glittering in your eyes. “Stay. Here.”

---Reader---

Outside, Nico and Tony waited by a standard police sedan. Surely they’d let you drive yourself; they wouldn’t make you sit in the back like some kind of criminal, right?

Even though I’m aiding and abetting one…

But this wasn’t the time to think about the murderer currently lounging on your couch. You needed to focus, keep up the appearance of normalcy. Just a little longer, you’d figure this out. All you needed was time. 

“You wanna hop in the back or follow us?” Tony asked.

A nervous laugh spilled from your lips. “I’ll follow, thanks.”

Nico grinned and held out her palm to her partner. “Told ya. Pay up, old man.”

He groaned and slapped her hand back, mumbling curses under his breath as he hopped into the patrol car’s drivers seat. 

Nico paused, watching as you turned to unlock your car. 

“You drive that thing? Are you sure it ain’t gonna explode on the way?” she commented, her eyes wide and locked on your rickety beast. You hadn’t even turned it on yet, no doubt she’d have more to say once she heard it. Better have the music nice and loud, then. 

“Hasn’t failed me yet,” you replied.

The look she gave you made you want to scream. Disdain or pity, maybe a hint of condescension. As if driving a car like yours made you inferior. If only she knew the murderer she was hunting currently occupied your apartment.

He’d better still be there when I get back…

---------

Tony was easy to follow, even with the anxious fluttering stealing your focus.What would you find at the latest scene? What monstrosity had V created now? And how were you going to manage to balance looking like you knew your stuff and covering his tracks?

You sighed. 

As much as you wanted to unravel the mysterious artist, he’d rapidly made a total mess of your life. It felt like being trapped in a spider’s web, watching and waiting as your doom crept closer to consume you. Like you were a fly, desperately flapping your tiny wings as if there was any hope of escape. 

You shoved the thought aside as Tony slowed, pulling into an empty spot in front of a small home currently lit in red and blue from the swirling police lights. Yellow tape cordoned off the small yard, a few stern looking officers milling about to dissuade the neighbors from getting too nosy. 

It was a nice area, if cramped. Colorful homes stood mere feet apart. Shrubs and small trees filled the front yards, adding a layer of refinement absent in most of the city. V chose his location well. A murder in such a luxurious neighborhood would set the entire upper class into chaos.

Not even your fancy security gates can keep you safe from him…

Back in high school, kids from these types of homes were the bane of your existence. A little fear might do them well. At the very least, it might distract them from bullying others for a while.

You turned down the volume to a respectful level as you pulled into an empty spot on the curb, cringing as the engine loudly rattled. Maybe you should’ve ridden in the back, just to hide how crappy your car was…

Oh well. Too late now.

Tony and Nico waited by the driveway, chatting with another officer as you approached. You couldn't put your finger on it, but the woman’s uniform seemed different somehow. 

“Lieutenant, this is Dr. Waras, the consultant I told you about,” Tony said, gesturing towards you.

Her angular features and rigid posture reminded you of a stereotypical drill sergeant, but at the introduction her face relaxed into a grim smile and a hand extended to shake yours. 

“Good to have you, doctor. CSI’s already finished, but try not to disturb anything just in case. Booties are by the door.”

---------

Scarlet droplets marked the artist’s path from the front walkway inside. Small yellow tags sat by each fallen drip, each with a number etched in black. The colors contrasted with the shiny oak floor and you couldn’t help but be amused by it, that all the wealth and status of this home did nothing to protect it from V’s creation.

Nothing can protect you from the horror of reality.

You stepped carefully around a few yellow markers, past the elaborate kitchen and polished granite countertops to follow Tony further inside. Smiling family photos dotted the walls and one of those fancy voice-activated devices sat on a hall table. By all appearances, a young and happy family lived here.

Tony led you to the master bedroom and paused at the door. “I’d recommend you breathe through your mouth. You haven’t eaten recently, have you?”

You rolled your eyes. After seeing Ken’s melted arms and smelling death from the orderly he’d murdered, you weren’t worried. Besides, scent was easy to ignore most of the time. It was a matter of will power.

Beyond the door was a tableau of mutilated meat. Spread out amongst the sturdy furniture and tasteful decorations, the artist had arranged sections of what could only be human flesh. A muscle here, a tendon there… There was blood, of course, but the scene wasn’t as drenched as you would’ve expected from the artist. 

Tony stayed in the doorway and watched as you wandered through the room. It was clear in his eyes that he wanted to vomit or shoot someone, but you ignored him. Far more interesting was the strange display.

Which muscle was that? How did all these pieces fit together to make a person? Humans really were just meat, when you came down to it. Hunks of steak with the rare ability to create and imagine. 

But why had V done this? He always had a reason, he said so himself. Why go through the trouble of carving up some poor soul and hauling their carcas here to arrange this way? 

You stared at the scene for what felt like hours, searching for meaning in the macabre. There had to be something, there just had to be. All you had to do was find it.

It wasn’t until you tilted your head that the design became clear. From most angles, the spread of tissue lacked any rhyme or reason, but now?

Now all the tendrils of tendons and filets of flesh came together to form a single letter.

V.

Yet there were still pieces that didn’t fit the pattern. Outliers, strewn about like so much garbage. 

“We managed to ID the fucker. Name’s Michael DuPonte. Known rapist that we never managed to charge with anything. Guess it’s a moot point, now,” Tony explained from the hall. 

He deserved this, then. 

Who knew how many women he’d made his victims? Even one was too many. You’d worked with sexual assault victims for a while in school, part of your thesis on criminal behavior. Their stories hadn’t been easy to hear.

Mostly because they kept using all the tissues you brought, but one or two told tales that hit too close to home. If it wouldn’t contaminate the scene, you’d have enjoyed spitting on his cock. Or dancing on it, perhaps. Maybe both.

Stay focused, come on! It still doesn’t make sense. Maybe another angle?

With careful steps, you navigated the room and examined the gruesome display at every angle imaginable. At last, you found it - the viewpoint that brought it all home. 

Again, the remains created a single letter, but it was a different one. 

W.

This, this was his point. Not a single nugget was left out, the perfect reformation of a person. Nothing wasted, all to build a message meant for the world.

But why W?

It seemed arrogant to assume it was a reference to your name, but you couldn’t think of another option that made sense. Winter, warrior, wendigo, watershed…

No. It stood for Waras.

The realization sent a shockwave through you. There was no denying the madman had a disturbing fixation on you, especially after the incident in the museum. But to see it laid out for all to see, if only they were clever enough to look, forced you to face it head on. No more hiding. This went way beyond professional curiosity now.

What am I going to do?

Your heart pounded, goosebumps prickling your skin. Blood rushed in your ears and the urge to laugh almost broke free. Of all the people in the world to have interested in you, you got the serial killer. 

Shit, and what about me? Am I interested in him?

Despite his flaws, it was comforting to know someone truly cared. Loneliness was a constant undercurrent in your life and you’d long ago accepted that. You were a freak, incapable of connecting on a deep level like everyone else did so easily. Others couldn’t be trusted, and if they saw beneath your facade they’d surely run away screaming.

But he wouldn’t. The artist already saw past your mask and he was still here. That fact alone brought a smile to your lips and warmth to your heart. Not to mention he was clearly more fucked up than you. For him to run would be the height of hypocrisy. Maybe this was your chance to have it all. Maybe he could finally ease the isolation.

Maybe you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

---V---

To his credit, he tried to be respectful. He really did. It seemed immoral to abuse the trust you placed in him, by leaving him alone in your home. Not that there’d been much choice, but that wasn’t the point.

Yet inevitably, his curiosity overpowered his reason. There was so much he might learn about you, who knew what secrets he’d uncover?

First, he pawed through the kitchen drawers. Nothing of particular interest; only the usual collection of kitchen utensils met his wandering hands. 

Next to draw his attention was the hall closet, where he found cleaning supplies and coats. A few pairs of boots and stylish heels, a box fan and a crate of basic crafting supplies rounded out the packed shelves.

C’mon, there’s gotta be something interesting here!

I’d prefer something useful…

He had to admit, he was disappointed by the mundanity of your home. He’d imagined it to be a more truthful reflection of your personality, but instead it was simply another layer of falsehood to peel through before he could expose your true value. So many masks, why did you bother with them all? It must be exhausting. 

On to the bedroom. Maybe he’d discover a secret hoard of filthy novels or a box of buckles and straps. He certainly hoped so.

But no, even your bedroom lacked any glimpse beneath the surface. It was infuriating, to imagine the circumstances which led you to hide your true self even in your most private of spaces. He would shred whomever built your cage, tear them to pieces as slowly as possible. Drawing out the process wasn’t something familiar to him, but surely it couldn’t be that difficult to keep someone alive and in excruciating agony.

It was in your bedside table that he found it - a stack of photos showing you and several recurring faces. There you were, graduating college. And there, a birthday. Another showed you planting a kiss on an older man’s cheek. Was that your father? You had the same nose. Perhaps the meaning behind your earlier expression hid in the image. 

He took a seat on the bed and examined every pixel of the photo. A drink sat by the man’s hand, a haze of drunkenness evident even in a simple snapshot. Sheets of paper kept the half-full glass company, some kind of form if he had to guess. 

And you… though your lips pressed against the man’s cheek in an unmistakable gesture of love, your eyes remained on whomever took the photo. Worry tainted your lovely eyes and your body angled away from the man, as if you craved an escape. The dark artist wondered why you kept this photo when it was so clear you didn’t want to be in it. 

The man must have forced you. Reprehensible; he’d never hold you back. 

He would set you free.

You should do something nice for her, Van Gogh. Show your good side for once!

The artist frowned and flipped to the next photo, where you played with a dog. A retriever?

“What would you suggest? I can’t exactly go out and buy her flowers.”

Right… maybe… uhh…

V rolled his eyes and looked at the final photo, where a childish version of you stood in a large group of children. A class photo? 

Oh, for heaven's sake! Cook something!

Ugh, cooking… he hated cooking. Some compared it to art, but why bother creating something if it will only be consumed moments later? Food lacked the lasting impact his paintings held.

It might still make a nice gesture, though..

He sighed and carefully set the stack of pictures back in your drawer. What would he even cook? Did you have ingredients? If only he had the freedom to visit a grocery store himself, but it wasn’t worth the risk. 

In the end, he found some pasta and vegetables. A pair of chicken breasts and a jar of sauce rounded out the meal. Simple, but enough to deliver the message. Truthfully, he was a bit excited to see your reaction. This might be the most normal thing the two of you ever shared; at the very least, it was so far.

He set the table and lowered the heat of the stovetop, keeping the meal warm until you returned. 

Now what?

There wasn’t time to figure it out, as the click of a key in the door signaled your arrival. The artist grinned and stirred the pasta, sending waves of savory scent wafting through the air. He hadn’t been this excited for something other than art for years.

“What the…” you murmured, stepping through the doorway with a weary look, shoulders drooping. 

“Welcome back,” V replied.

“You… did you cook?”

He smiled and nodded, gesturing at the spot he set for you. “A token of my gratitude, for all you’ve done for me.”

The corner of your lips twitched, a sound he couldn’t translate slipping through. He’d never seen your face with this expression, what were you thinking? Did you find his message? Perhaps he hadn’t been clear enough, but he could try again soon enough. 

“Alright. I give up, this is too much.”

You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag, striding toward the table and taking the indicated seat. Perplexed, the artist didn’t move. 

“You give up?”

“Yup. This can’t possibly be my life.”

That… is not the reaction I hoped for.

Chuckles bubbled from your throat as you stared at him, intensifying with each heartbeat. The artist’s heart warmed; he’d never heard you laugh like this before. Choking, holding your stomach and tears forming on your eyelashes. You’d never looked so lovely.

He smiled and took his own seat, the pasta forgotten on the stove. It didn’t matter, he’d rather enjoy your face right now. 

At long last, you managed to calm down, though an occasional snicker still broke through. Slim fingers wiped away the moisture leaking from your eyes, lips still twitching. “It’s insane, hehe, the hands responsible for what I saw tonight also made me dinner. It’s hehe, it’s goddamn surreal.”

With that, you broke down in giggles once again. Something about the sound of your laughter and the wide grin on your lips summoned snickers from V as well, and within moments his own chuckles mixed with yours. When was the last time he laughed, truly laughed?

He didn’t know. He didn’t care. Right now, all that mattered was the flickering joy in his heart.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[lonelypond]

Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 10

Love Live/Love Live Sunshine, NozoEli, NicoMaki, KanaMari, 2.2K, 10/?

Summary: Eli finally gets a minute to talk to a cute girl. And Kanan finds her dinner interupted.

Nozomi In The House

The silence was too uncomfortable for Eli, the driver wasn’t going to talk, and Nozomi had almost started to say something several times, but instead pursed her lips and went back to staring out the window. IT WAS GOING TO DRIVE ELI MAD. But she didn’t want to talk about the crying or Nico or…

Ah, they did have two more people in common now. “How did you meet Kanan and Mari? Did one of them wander into your shop?”

Nozomi snorted and tapped the window of the luxury sedan, “I don’t think Mari’s ever set foot in that neighborhood. The property values are too low.”

Eli didn’t know how to process that response and just sighed, feeling her shoulders sag.

“I’m sorry, Eli. That was a serious question and I didn’t give you a serious answer.” Nozomi turned away from the window, her smile gentle, “That friend Kanan mentioned, Yoshiko…”

Eli nodded, now wary, but Nozomi continued brightly, “is married to my dear friend Hanamaru who owns a lovely little quirky bookstore on a very ritzy street it really has no business being on. But there it remains.” Nozomi chuckled, “Everything Yoshiko touches is a little like that. Very thoroughly unapologetic of itself and slightly out of place.”

Eli relaxed when she realized Nozomi wasn’t going to push Kanan’s ‘meet my friend’ suggestion on her. “That sounds refreshing. Almost everyone I meet is trying to fit in a particular slot somewhere for some role. I imagine there’s charm in a place unique like that.”

Nozomi’s eyebrows shot up in amusement, “I find it comforting myself. I’ve been having tea there a lot recently, while I was wondering if my phone still worked.”

“Huh?” Eli’s face wrinkled in confusion, “Is it a repair shop?”

“I was waiting for someone to text me.” Nozomi nudged Eli’s knee, noticing how Eli scooted away.

“Who?” It was a mumble, a completely lacking in confidence mumble, completely incapable of selling the suggestion that Eli didn’t know EXACTLY what Nozomi was talking about.

Nozomi just stared until Eli finished glancing everywhere but at her. Nozomi could see guilt wash through blue eyes as Eli acknowledged her lack of outreach, “Oh. Me.” Eli bopped her head, “Sorry. It’s been so many long days. And I just…” Eli had no words for what was happening. Or what she was feeling. Or how desperately she wanted to just be home on her couch, safe, not haunted with worries of the nights she couldn’t remember.

As Eli held her gaze, Nozomi decided it didn’t matter that Eli hadn’t texted her. What did matter was that some of the sadness that weighted Eli’s expression was lifted and that Nozomi found out if there was anything she could do.

“Eli?”

“Yes?” Eli was blinking, trying not to cry, with nowhere to go until the car stopped.

Nozomi just rushed right in, her hand nearly touching Eli’s. “Are you sick? Can I help? Did you get hurt at rehearsal?”

Eli stiffened, her shoulders raising, her chest closing, suddenly crunching in on herself, “No. Rehearsals are fine...dancing is…” A turn to the window, pulling her hand back, leaning into her elbow, eyes on the passing view, “dancing is the only thing that’s really working about me now.”

Eli was talking, reluctantly, but talking. Nozomi decided to press, “What isn’t working? Nico? I know you said you had roommate trouble.”

Eli’s voice sounded thick, “I’m the roommate trouble.”

Nozomi sat still as the car headed toward Silver Lakes and Eli continud, “Nico’s pretty amazing. I wouldn’t be in LA without her, she just...gets me.” Eli smiled wistfully, and Nozomi was suddenly caught by this breathing, touchable portrait of noble sadness, “People don’t do friends enough anymore. There’s something solid about Nico. We were never going to date, but...:” Eli looked straight at Nozomi, “we just get along, you know, really well. It’s fun.”

Nozomi nodded, glad that Eli trusted her enough to talk about some of the details of her life with Nico.

“And now there’s this DJ,” Eli frowned, “And I think Nico really likes her but I don’t and I don’t because I don’t know how it’ll change everything. And right now…” Nozomi could see tears as Eli tilted her head back to rest on the seat, “everything’s just too extra crazy…” Eli’s voice was the thinnest of whispers, ‘because I’m changing. Maybe I should leave...maybe that’d be better.”

“Where would you go?” Nozomi wondered. She knew so little about Eli.

“Home?”

Nozomi wasn’t sure if the question in Eli’s voice meant the home she’d grown up in or one she hadn’t found yet. Or maybe that was Nozomi’s own struggle shadowing the conversation. LA had been a good pause for a traveller, but Nozomi wasn’t certain that there was anywhere she could put roots down.

Nozomi could only offer a cryptic response. She had spent too much time changing places to really believe she might be happy in a more settled existence. “Home is such an individual craving.”

“Craving…” Eli chuckled, “Maybe it’s worse because I’ve been reminded of my grandmother recently. Russian spices in the house again. Nico hates it.” Eli hesitated, then continued, her voice gaining strength, her eyes clearing, “Grandmother would be proud I’m working on a solo show; she was the prima ballerina in her company. So much grace, you even can see it in the lines when she posed for still shots. Every gesture is another key to understanding emotion.” Eli fluttered her hand, sweeping it through the space in front of them, “I aspire to that level of mastery.”

“I’d love to see the photos sometime.” Nozomi wondered if child Eli was in some of them and if her eyes would be as shadowed.

“Sure. When we get to the apartment. Nico’s probably in the middle of cooking six things although she’ll claim she just wants salad. When she stress cooks and makes a curry casserole it’s a bit of fusion heaven.”

“I will take you up on that.”

Eli turned to Nozomi, mischief bright, “It’s a date then. Nico will be so annoyed when I have one and she doesn’t.”

“Are you going for friend or prankster?” Nozomi couldn’t help laughing as Eli bounced slightly in her seat.

“Both.” Eli leaned forward, amusement now the mood in the car, “Retaliating brings Nico unhealthy amounts of joy.”

This was obviously a friendship with its own rules. Good for Eli. Nozomi looked forward to the sparring match she was being invited to.

###

“So Yoshiko just dropped this poor girl from the sky? On her parents?” Mari left out the names. As much as she enjoyed harassing Maki Nishikino, Mari also understood fame and fortune attracted too many random ears.

Kanan tapped her water glass with her knife, “Well, in the pool. They were alone in a cabana, You and I were having a quick meeting at the front of the pool. And then everybody jumped in, one after the other…”

Mari giggled, playing with her champagne flute, “Nico looked like an undersized chihuahua rescued from a flood when she came back to our place.”

“It was worse for You. She was wearing that raggedy old pair of shorts she keeps for laundry and PMS days and drip dried in the ambulance.”

Mari froze, “You sent You to save the timeline in those awful shorts.”

Kanan shrugged, “She’ll be fine.”

“How hot is the time traveller?” Mari had switched to hotel magnate meeting planning mode, her voice crisp and resonant.

Kanan glanced around the room, as Mari’s voice was now carrying, a concern considering the publicness of their location and the topic, but everyone else was focused on their own meals and conversations. Eavesdroppers would probably just guess that they were talking about a movie, anyway. This was LA, after all.

“Kanan? Answer my question.” Mari prompted.

Kanan shrugged, “She was reasonably pretty, I guess. Very sharp clothes, looked like stuff you might wear so probably designer.”

“OH MY GOD!” Mari got to her feet, shoving the table at Kanan, who caught it before it bounced off her abs while glaring at her drama queen of a wife.

“Sit down, Mari.”

“No, we are going to bring that poor girl some decent clothes. Are they still at the hospital?”

“Maki took them home.” Kanan sat down, continuing to cut her farmed artic char into chunks

Mari clucked her tongue and shook her head at her wife, “Cazzatta! Such a bad friend. We are going to go get You some very expensive designer cute things to make up for it.”

“Mari, we can’t just invade Maki’s home and can’t we just pick up something from You’s apartment.”

Mari, having finished flailing her hands around like weapons, tapped Kanan on her shoulder, “1. Watch me and 2. No. Banzai!”

“Maaaaaari.” But by the time Kanan had finished her desperate plea, Mari had blown a kiss at the maitre d’ in lieu of paying the check and made it nearly to the parking lot.

###

Nico always missed her siblings, but on days when she got into stress cooking mode, it had always been nice to have growing teenagers to feed. Now, there was just Nico, two casseroles, one pan of brownies, one loaf of apricot quick bread, biscuit mix rising for breakfast, and a three layer chocolate cake waiting to be iced with the orange buttercream Nico was whipping into celestial smoothness with pure muscle. Maybe she should call Maki and take over some food. Nico glanced outside, nearly dark already, surely Eli was still okay, but it would be reassuring to actually see her here, blonde hair intact in a ponytail not breaking out into full body fluffiness.

A key at the door. “This is such a nice little place, Eli. In a quiet neighborhood it looks like.”

Nico froze at the not Eli voice.

Eli sounded in a good mood. “And you can sit outside at the back. We’ve got some plants out there. It’s a great place to stretch. Or read. Nico always takes her scripts out there, with a hat and sunscreen, of course,”

Eli and Nozomi stepped inside, Eli closing the door behind her. She looked quickly to Nico to read her best friend’s reaction to inviting someone else into their space. Nico put on her best smile, “Nico’s complexion secrets are so good they make K-pop stars jealous. You’re just in time, Nico was about to call a delivery driver to overnight some food to her teenage brother.”

Nozomi approached the bar where the food overflow had reached, taking in the details of the kitchen and front room, “This smells delicious, Nico. Eli was telling me how good your cooking was on the way here so thank you for inviting me to share. I’m glad we decided not to stop and pick up takeout.”

“Nico is too; food shouldn't be wasted...your choices are Eli’s favorite Nico’s secret recipe sausage and 3 bean curry casserole or a more traditional baked pasta, but with Nico’s mama’s special flair.”

“Ingredients also secret?” Nozomi inquired.

“Of course, Nico never breaks a confidence.” Nico’s eyes went to Eli, whose blue eyes dimmed with recent memories. “Hey, Eli, how’s your headache? Feel like eating?” Nico pulled plates out of the cabinet, handing one to Nozomi, while they both watched Eli warily.

Eli rubbed the back of her neck, “I think it’s going to be okay, Nico. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“We all do.” Nico sighed.

Nozomi was piling pasta and creamy, stringy cheese on her plate, green eyes gleaming, “So want to watch a movie and do your podcast? Isn’t this when you usually record? I’m fascinated by how unrehearsed your conversations seem.” Nozomi then curled up in the comfy chair, her half smile promising mischief and her eyes catching every twitch of her audience.

Nico and Eli both gaped at their guest. With Eli’s wolf side making its surprise appearance last night, they’d completely forgotten their Sunday routine.

“Hell.” Nico muttered.

Eli started spooning casserole onto her plate. “Can’t disappoint our fans, Nico.”

“Nico never disappoints anyone.” Nico huffed, starting to ice the cake to cover her disgruntlement, “Guess it’s your week to pick the movie.”

“Ooohh,” Nozomi bounced, quickly swallowing her mouthful of pasta, “Let me, let me.”

Eli watched Nico’s eyebrow twitch like a sound level meter at a rock concert and bit back a laugh. Yesterday was getting further away with every minute of silliness.

“Romance or Comedy?” Nozomi trilled.

“Murder.” Nico hissed.

“What did you say, Nico, I didn’t quite catch that.” Nozomi asked innocently, Eli doubled over with laughter,

“Crime thriller.” Nico’s teeth were clenched.

Eli took her plate the couch. This was going to be even more entertaining than a normal Nico evening.

A/N: Happy Mischief Night. Or Halloween. No tricks, just another chapter.

[moononmyfloor]

Review: The Tyrant's Tomb by Rick Riordan

Thoughts on The Cover

Well, if you've seen my previous posts by now you'd know that I'm not a big fan of loud and action-packed covers. I prefer classy, if not always subtle. But you might like it! See, Reyna is owning the bigger portion of it, which is a nice change. :-)

Ok to Low Points

Halfway through the book, I was STILL unable to "get" into the story

Literally, not much was going on for 2/3 of the whole book, which is very surprising considering:

The time between the release dates of The Tyrant's Tomb and The Burning Maze is the longest as of yet. Whereas other books within a series have come out within twelve months of each other, these two books will be released within eighteen months of each other.

.....and that even the most boring books by Uncle Rick had some silver linings here and there to keep you engaged. Even The Dark Prophecy had the gang arrive and settle in Indianapolis, visit the zoo and free Griffins and REVISIT the emperor. Here? Apollo and Co. escorted Jason's hearse into Camp Jupiter in a frankly insulting manner(more about that later), Apollo got sick, we see that the noble prophecies are being tattooed on Tyson's back, Apollo and Co. went on a lil' trial quest and returned, Apollo got more sick.🤷‍♀️ I was so confused I opened the previous books to see how far those stories had progressed by midpoint.

It got slightly better later on, but it doesn't change the fact throughout the 1st half of the book I just kept on turning pages SIMPLY because I wanted it to get it on with and finish the story. Sad.

2. The so-called Tyrant

I didn't see much tyranny, like...only 3 pages were spent in the Tyrant's Tomb and his company, bad old Commodus and Caligula had more appearances than Tarquin who re-appeared in the very last chapters only to get immediately vanquished courtesy of Diana.....yeah. That's that.

3. How Jason's final voyage was depicted

Uncle Rick doesn't write emotional crying scenes well.

People talk about peeing and pop chewing gum bubbles while delivering the hearses of valued, honored characters.

And I seriously wonder in what position and condition poor Jason's body was after all the drama his coffin underwent.

And based on the spoilery lines(which sadly turned out to be not spoilers at all) we saw in the Magnus Chase series I thought we'd at least get a Percy-Annabeth cameo in this, that Jason will have more of his closest comrades mourning and sending him off. Nah. Nada. Not even a mention of Annabeth. Then why did Uncle Rick mention things like Annabeth and Percy being at California and even Magnus joining them at their time of crisis? Utter puzzlement. And we were also robbed of Nico's reaction to Jason's demise, considering how much Nico valued Jason as a brother-in-arms and a friend. Let's not even talk about Thalia. Why, Uncle Rick? :-(

Which brings us to...

4. Plot Inconsistencies

Why do I have to talk about this in each and every book? :-( Seriously, why would you write about Percy and Annabeth going to New Rome to attend college and being broken hearted over Jason DURING the period of Demigod communication malfunction, only to have us know they have YET to travel across the country and when we meet them again it would still be at New York? And now the communication is working, proving that Uncle Rick conveniently forgot about the clues he conveniently dropped.

AT LEAST I'm glad one thing is consistent in the Trials of Apollo series, that when Zeus decided they'll stop meddling too much in demigod affairs at the end of Heroes of Olympus, he meant it and now it's super duper hard to seek a god even for dire needs, no matter how wonderfully (ill)timed that decision was, costing lives of valued heroes.

5. The Haiku-titles weren't amusing at all this time.

I found one fun haiku .

O, blood moon rising

Take a rain check on doomsday

I’m stuck in traffic

6. The whole Apollo-Reyna debacle.

I would say Uncle Rick pulled a clever twist by turning fan theories on their heads here, but it too way more plot space than needed and when he got to the "Gotcha!" part, I was not feeling it. For YEARS now, we heard abut this no-mortal-no-demigod thing over and over, and fans predicted it might mean Apollo's the one for Reyna. And when it initially seemed like it was the route that Uncle Rick was indeed taking, the only thought that circulated inside my head was; "Reyna doesn't need this completely random and unwanted baggage! Give the girl a dam break!!" But then he was like; "Lol nooo. You kids are wrong", but STILL I was not happy...well, for obvious reasons.

What's the point of this whole plotline? So unnecessary. I mean, the fans always wondered WHY exactly would Reyna think she needs a partner in her life, but now I see Reyna might not have had time to contemplate her personal life logically like WE had what's with her dramatic life. Of course the shallow gods would think her heart was something to be "cured" and Reyna never stopped to think that it's quite the opposite till Apollo provided her with a breather and reason. And to answer why din't she choose to join Amazons instead of Hunters is probably that she wanted to be her own person and not be under her sis the Queen once again. She'd indeed have the freedom, calm and few friends so she wouldn't feel lonely and bored with the Hunt. She might even choose to leave Hunters after she found herself in her own time. I get it. But the way it was dragged and executed was meh.

If Uncle Rick intended this plotline of Reyna to be empowering for female readers, in my opinion it was not. Yes, even a badass girl could have weaknesses, not enough self-confidence and wobbly life choices, but Reyna took too much time with her "Eureka!" moment.

It was funny while it lasted, at least.

“Lester.” Reyna sighed. “What in Tartarus are you saying? I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

“That maybe I’m the answer,” I blurted. “To healing your heart. I could…you know, be your boyfriend. As Lester. If you wanted. You and me. You know, like…yeah.”

HAHAHAHA. That Totally came from the left field Lester, even for you.

“Your girlfriend was pregnant when you had her killed?” Reyna launched another kick at my face. I managed to dodge it, since I’d had a lot of practice cowering, but it hurt to know that this time she hadn’t been aiming at an incoming raven. Oh, no. She wanted to knock my teeth in.

“You suck,” Meg agreed.

I mean, if THIS is not the ultimate deal breaker then what is? Apollo might have changed for better by now, but it doesn't mean we can overlook what he did. I for one certainly don't need a loveline for him in this series. I'm glad Uncle Rick drew(or at least seemed to have) a clear line here.

High Points

It took half the page count even for Uncle Rick's special brand of snark to return. Nonetheless I managed to find some good ones. Which is what matters, right?

1.

“So,” I said, making a second attempt at nonchalance, “are you and Thalia, er…?”

Reyna raised an eyebrow. “Involved romantically?”

“Well, I just…I mean…Um…”

Oh, very smooth, Apollo. Have I mentioned I was once the god of poetry?

Reyna rolled her eyes. “If I had a denarius for every time I got that question…Aside from the fact that Thalia is in the Hunters, and thus sworn to celibacy…Why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance?"

Preach, sister. But then again I would have to ask did YOU have to swear to celibacy to prove your independence....which is sort of the point🙄..

2.

Even when I was a god and could speak any language I wanted, I’d never sung well in Italian. I kept mixing it up with Latin, so I came off sounding like Julius Caesar with a head cold.

LOL

3.

It was time to be helpful. I needed to be repulsive for my friends!

Which you're most of the time...the latter sentence I mean.

4. Don't we all relate? 😂

“O protector of Rome!” I read aloud. “O insert name here!”

5. And one more.

I bet Gregorix was wishing he’d pursued that business degree his mom always wanted him to get. Being a barbarian bodyguard was mentally exhausting.

.

Heartrending quotes.

1.

This was the source of all our communications troubles—one sad, angry, forgotten little god.

2. This was the wisest quote I saw in the book. The simple indescribable deepness of letting go.

“Good-bye, Apollo,” said the Sibyl’s voice, clearer now. “I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.”

Even if I could’ve spoken, I wouldn’t have known what to say. I was in shock. Her tone asked for no reply, no apology. She didn’t need or want anything from me. It was almost as if I were the one being erased.

3. I was saddened to learn about Julia's untimely loss, but I'm sure everybody had a meltdown moment at the following scene.

The old god’s face hardened a bit more, which shouldn’t have been possible for stone. “I see. Well. I’ve concentrated the last bits of my power here, around Julia. They may destroy New Rome, but they will not harm this girl!”

“Or this statue!” said Julia.

4. Honestly? I too forgot until Apollo pointed it out and then I had *shivers*! They're one immediate family, grieving over one loss that affects all of them in various ways, and having mixed reactions about each others the members who survived!

I shivered. How easy it was to forget that this young woman was also my sister. And Jason was my brother. At one time, I would have discounted that connection. They’re just demigods, I would have said. Not really family.

Overall Conclusion

This is the most bored-outta-my-mind I felt after reading a PJO universe book. Am I finally growing out of the Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus fandom? Oh dear, I hope not. I can't imagine living without it and I'm SO not happy with this new development. Just as I feared, Uncle Rick couldn't keep it up after the excellent Burning Maze and now.....please, for your fans' sake who had been loyal for years, I hope at least the final book delivers. Just so we could at least part ways/go dormant with pleasant sentiments and a content heart.🙆‍♀️

[ninjacat1515]

Links In The Chain, Chapter 3

( @cheshire0824 owns Louis, Andreas, Ernesto and East. I own Eliza and Ben )

The whole gang was enjoying a fine dinner, Hector and Jack competing for who could tell the most jokes. Carina smiled and leaned against Ernesto, sipping wine. Their vacation was almost here, just one more week and they would spend almost a month in Europe. Someone knocked on the door, and Carina got up to answer it. Her eyes widened when she saw Ben. He was flanked by two armored people who looked like SWAT team members.

“Can I help you, Ben?”

“We’re here for the poor woman you’ve kept in the basement. And we’re not leaving until we get her and bring you lot to justice.”

Long claws grabbed Carina as she stepped out, hauling her by her shirt up to the roof. Salazar’s enraged face was a few inches from her own.

“DONDE ESTA ELIZA?? TELL ME NOW VILE PUTA!” he shook her like a rag doll and threw her to the ground with a bone crunching thud.

A werewolf ripped the front door off it’s hinges and charged in, overturning the table and cornering the entire pirate gang; roaring so loud it shook the walls of the entire house. More people streamed in, all of them vampires and members of Armando’s crew.

Shansa rushed in and was about to attempt a spell, but a Spanish eagle dove right for her face, slashing and ripping at her eyes and nose as she screamed and tried in vain to keep it away. The werewolf broke both of her arms and crushed her hands.

Armando Salazar swept into the room, glowering with such intense hatred, the force of it physically pained the pirates, and even Hector paled.

“Hola vermin....your reign of terror is at an end. Pero, none of you will die today. Oh far from it. You will plead for it, beg with your very soul. But it will not happen. I will not allow it.”

Moss dragged Carina in by her hair, face furious.

“First mi Capitan, mi best amigos, Guillermo...and now this...”

Lesaro walked in, gazing with absolute coldness at the witch on the floor.

“We have something truly special planned for you all. It didn’t have to be this way, we were looking to possible peace talks, despite all you did. But taking miss Liza away was the final straw.”

Salazar heard whimpers, and he rushed with inhuman speed to the basement, cries of anguish upon seeing what had been done to his beloved, tearing the air and haunting any human present. The cage was bent apart like chicken wire, Armando ignoring the searing pain from the silver as he pulled Eliza free, cradling her.

“Shhhhh...mi amor, I am here for you....they shan’t ever harm you again...”

“Mando....I didn’t think I’d ever see you again...”

“It would take the armies of Hell to stop me, and even then they would fail.” he chuckled, nuzzling her lovingly.

He brought her out to show the pirates their handiwork.

“This is just a small fraction of your legacy, your ‘heroic deeds’. The world will know what you have done, and what these institutions have been committing behind closed doors...the truth will be exposed.”

The pirates glared with hatred of their own, but also a massive surge of fear. Eliza spat at them.

“You will never exterminate us, never make another device, never lay a finger on any one of us ever again. I am going to forget you exist, we all are. You Hunters have your own hell to rot in now, but....Mando’s informed me of a fun little ride you’ll be taking through the city streets!”

Santos walked up, giving a grand bow.

“I will be your beast of burden for this journey! Thousands of my kind have gathered to witness this, along with many others! It is a treat to help you on your little trip!”

He became a horse and trotted out as each of the gang were dragged out by their hair, Bracero gleefully following and kicking them in the head. Carina screamed as she was forced into a barrel lines with nails, each of the pirates getting their own separate one.

“We’re skipping the system for you shits! Just like you did for countless vampires!”

Bracero was giddy and dancing about, hooking his arm with Moss. Officer Magda stood, grinning a wide grin, purple eyes flaring as he counted down to the take off through the main drag. The crowd was cheering and hurling insults at the pirates along with garbage and dead rodents.

Santos and several other vampires who had horse forms stood proud and at the ready. Magda gave the signal and they took off at a full gallop, dragging the screaming and crying pirates for miles until they were bloody masses inside the barrels.

But they were not dead even when the horses came to a full on stop. Nico removed the rest of the desperate, agonized eyes. The pirates were trying to say how sorry they were, but Eliza and the vampires knew they could never, ever mean it.

“You’re only sorry because you’re facing the full brunt of Karmatic Justice, putas. It is high time you are all out away for good, we made our own special hospital for you!”

Carina reached for Eliza in a final and fruitless attempt for mercy. Her fingers were smashed under the vampire’s foot.

“I told you....you will never lay your miserable digits on me ever again, nor will you ever see the light of the sun again. Just like you tried to doom Gui, Mando, Bracero, and Santos....and so many more. The world is better off without you in it.”

And with that, the barrels were loaded up into a truck and sent to the new Birmingham, Eliza sighing in relief and looking at Armando.

“Let’s hope that’s the last we ever have to smell of them.”

“After you heal, where would you like to go, mi amor?”

Eliza thought for a moment or two and passionately kissed Salazar on the lips.

“Our bedroom is just fine...shall we?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice...” he growled with joy and lust, carrying her to his car and taking her home.

[redroseworks]

Drew and Reyna.

Dreyna wedding is my favorite tbh thank you for requesting it• it's royal purple and blood red themed • also fairytale themed• Reyna wears a mermaid dress with a purple belt and carries red roses • Drew wears a princess style dress with a red sash and carries purple roses• Jason, Nico, Frank, Hazel, Dakota, and Coach Hedge are Reyna's 'bridesmaids' their suits/dresses are purple with a red tie or belt• Piper, Lacy, Valentina, Michael Kahale, Mitchell, and Will are Drew's and their suits/dresses are red with a purple tie or sash• Reyna and Drew both wear a laurel crown, Reyna's is silver and Drew's is gold• Drew's mortal parent walks her down the aisle• Hylla walks Reyna down the aisle • they write their own vows while Reyna's are sweet, Drew's are kind of funny• before the reception they change into matching white suits, Reyna has a purple bowtie and Drew has a red one• the reception food is a mix of Greek, Italian, Japanese, and Puerto Rican foods • A desert buffet. A huge one• Some Apollo kids perform as a live band • another Apollo kid DJs when the band isn't playing• they do that garter thing where one throws the bouquet and the other throws the garter belt but the do it twice also they just have the garters on their wrists • Hazel and Malcolm get the bouquets • Lacy and Mitchell get the garters • Lacy just puts the garter on Hazel ankle • Mitchell puts it all the way to Malcolm's thigh • Drew's laughing at her siblings• Reyna is like "poor Hazel" • Reyna and Drew's first dance is to a female cover of take me to church • their cake is white with purple and red candy roses on top with a cute cake topper that looks like them (thanks to Nyssa)• they do the cake in the face thing• Bellona and Aphrodite are there and are so proud of their daughters• the Amazons are also there and Reyna told them to leave the men alone• also the Amazons find Drew amazing and tell Reyna and Drew that they should come join them• Jason does the best man speech for Reyna and two great lines are "I remember when your wife tried to date me." and "Also we all should have known Reyna was gay after she had Thalia between her legs. With a knife to her throat." • Lacy does it for Drew. And well... "Remember the other Egyptian god you drooled over before you learned he was a god?" "It feels like just yesterday​ Piper took the cabin from you." "To believe that years ago, you were trying to bang Jason, your wife's best friend and brother by everything but blood." • Drew is dying and Reyna is dying• their honeymoon is a road trip across South America, then backpacking across Asia and finally a cruise around the coast of Australia

[acwrpg-blog]

✘“I GOTTA KEEP MY HEAD HELD HIGH, STRAIGHTEN THIS CROWN, AND PRESS FORWARD. IT’S THE ONLY WAY I KNOW HOW TO LIVE.”✘

Name; Lena Palmer.

Age; 25 years old.

Ring name; Sabrina King.

Hometown; Boston, Massachusetts, United States.

Face claim; Sasha Banks.

Status; Unfortunately for you, she is TAKEN.

{#} WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ✘✘

From a famous wrestling family, her father and mother are legends and her family is considered royalty.

Started dating a wrestling legend and promoter for the company 25 years older than her when she was 18 as her mother decided it would help her career.

The relationship ended when she was 22 and the man died in suspicious circumstances; many think she killed them.

Has yet to make a name for herself outside of her family and has many self doubts as to whether she would be there or not if wasn’t for her family’s name.

{#} THE GOOD & THE BAD ✘✘

As every person in the world, Lena can be:

+ Kind, easygoing, intuitive.

Unfortunately, she can also be:

- Emotional, indecisive, pessimistic.

{#} THIS IS HER STORY ✘✘

Lena Evangeline Palmer’s fate was sealed from the day she was born, and…that’s kinda been the problem. It’s been both a gift and a curse, as it turns out.

“Poor little rich girl,” some would say. “Oh, it must be so hard having a ready-made way to get your foot in the door,” others would surely scoff, accompanied by a well-timed roll of the eyes. The issue wasn’t that Lena’s parents were Julian and Grace Palmer. No one knew who those people were. If she just tossed around government names, there would be no expectations for her to meet, no preconceived notions for her to have to overcome. Now, Victor King and Ruby Cameron? Oh, ears perked up when people heard those names. Their eyes sparkled. They wanted to hear all about what it was like for Lena to have grown up with wrestling legends for parents. Always, they were dying to know more.

Lena supposed she understood the fascination that others had with her bloodline. Her mother was a product of the notoriously tough Canadian wrestling scene, which had a reputation for chewing up and spitting recruits out whole, regardless of gender. She was really the first woman to truly become renowned all across the country, lauded for her wrestling ability and known for being notoriously tough. Ruby was everything that no one had been before her – beautiful, energetic, and a practical technical savant. The girl from Toronto effectively became the First Lady of Canadian Wrestling, kicking ass, taking names, and snatching titles from Vancouver to Halifax and back again. Of course, American promoters began to take notice of Ruby’s high profile, and she was soon in high demand for promotions in the States. It was backstage at a show in Miami in 1985 that she met Victor King, a Houston native who cut his teeth as the golden boy of many a promotion in the South. Victor himself was already following in the footsteps of his family; his brothers both wrestled, his sister was a referee, and his father, Duke King, had already been successful years before, a near-miracle considering the segregated nature of the South back in his heyday. It was at that point that Ruby realized nothing about Victor’s in-ring persona was an act. He was every bit as charming and self-assured as he seemed to be. The phrase “love at first sight” is so often thrown around, but the way the story is told to Lena, that’s really what it was. Her parents were smitten right from the jump, so much so that her dad wasted little time integrating her mom into his in-ring act. It was shortly after this that both of their public profiles began to rise, bringing them both to a level of fame they hadn’t previously experienced before. The ripple effect caused by this led to Robert Burgess insisting that both of them be picked up by ACW in 1986, long before it was the juggernaut it is now. Needless to say, the two of them made waves. Not just because they were amazing on their own and would each wind up with several championships to their name when it was all said and done, but because they were essentially the first big-name interracial couple in professional wrestling. They went on to get married in 1988. 

Ruby took a sabbatical beginning in 1990 and went back to just being Grace for a while. The reason for her pumping the breaks was that she found out she was pregnant with Lena’s older brother Ezra – who years later would go on to become a well-known wrestler in his own right as Nico King. Ruby stayed home for a bit and played mommy and geared up for a pretty stellar return – one that was ultimately cut sort of short when she found out she was pregnant for the second time and gave birth to Lena in January of 1992. Now, Ruby loved her children, and she still does, but she felt she’d worked too hard to further her career to just concede to it being over after marrying and having kids. So she didn’t. In turn, the early years of Lena’s life are even more of a blur than they are for most people. She and her brother were always on their parents’ hip. With Victor and Ruby having been ACW mainstays, the kids spent the early part of their childhood in Greensboro, and Lena’s earliest memories involve being in that warehouse. She took her first steps there. She has vague, blurry recollections of seeing wrestlers stomping toward the Gorilla position years ago. She never stood a chance, really. If her bloodline didn’t steer her to that line of work, then just being around all of these people would’ve caused the wrestling bug to bite her. There wasn’t any other direction she could go in. She was set.

Fast forward to 2007, when ACW is infinitely bigger than it was when Victor and Ruby were killing the game. The two are all but retired now, and have opened a successful wrestling school in Boston with Victor’s brothers. By now, Ezra is seventeen and getting ready to go graduate high school. He was offered a full scholarship to Syracuse to play football, but does he take it? Nah. He’s too determined to follow in his parents’ footsteps. The fervor with which he follows this dream inspires Lena. Eventually, Ezra is snatched up by ACW’s Developmental program, rebranded Nico King, and becomes the poster boy of the company’s infamous create-a-wrestler factory. Meanwhile, when Lena turns eighteen in 2010, she’s given her parents’ blessing to begin training. She sort of assumed she’d have to do things “the old fashioned way”. You know, busting your ass on the indies for years and years, grinding it out, but she was okay with that. This was really the first time in her life that she got acquainted with her privilege on a professional level. Her parents were friends with retired wrestler turned ACW agent Richard Lexington – better known as “Filthy” Rich Rogue – and had known him for years. He was a recent divorcee with kids Lena’s age, but Lena’s mom knew an opening when she saw one.  

“It could do wonders for your career, baby doll,” her mother assured her soothingly, having tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “This could kickstart everything for you. You won’t have to struggle and scratch and claw the way that I had to.” Was her heart in the right place? Maybe…if not in a weird, stage mom sort of way. Something about this just felt wrong. It wasn’t that Rich wasn’t a nice guy. There was nothing wrong with him, per se, but the whole arrangement – and yes, that’s what it was, an arrangement – felt odd to Lena. He had been a family friend, a colleague of her parents’ and now he was her boyfriend? Or, career sugar daddy, rather. Lena knew that people were whispering. She knew that folks had a lot to say, and that they had their suspicions about it all, but Rich – bless his heart – tried to insulate her from all of it. Things like that made Lena think that he really loved her, which made her feel guilty as all hell. She could say a lot of kind things about Rich, but she never, ever loved him. She spent four years biting her tongue waiting for the payoff when she got the call from her dad in 2014.  

“I’m sorry, honey, but…it’s Rich. They just found him, face-down in the bathtub. He’s dead…”  

Lena didn’t know if she stopped listening after that or what. It’d be heartless not to have felt sad over Rich’s death, but Lena couldn’t help but feel like there was a silver lining to all of this. She was free, sort of. They never did figure out exactly what had happened, with the coroner having not really known whether to label the death as suicide, accidental, or of unknown causes. The real kicker, the part that Lena hadn’t seen coming, was that the police actually briefly believed she had something to do with it. She felt like they should’ve been talking to Rich’s doctor about all the muscle relaxers and sleeping pills in his system – the ones that she’s threatened to flush down the toilet at least a year before and he’d begged her not to. The retired wrestler turned executive having been poisoned by his beautiful, much-younger wrestler girlfriend would’ve made for a saucy ass headline, but Lena didn’t have anything to do with it. She figured there would always be people who believed different, and she tried not to let on how much it bothered her.

By now, Lena was being marketed as the top female performer in developmental, and she was retooled as such. A killer weave, a beat face, sparkling charisma, and a name like Sabrina King just helped the case. She even won the women’s title down there on three different occasions. While no one was ever really hostile to her face, she couldn’t help but feel like there was an asterisk next to everything she did. Her parents got her foot in the door and the dearly-departed Rich greased the wheels for her to become a star. The more time that’s passed and the more she’s been able to accomplish, the more she’d dying for there to be something that she can call her own…but she doesn’t know when she’ll find it or if she’ll find it at all. She’s brimming with pride to be the ACW Women’s Champion. After all, it’s what she’s wanted her whole life. But still, too often she finds herself pondering the question of whether or not she’d be here if not for all of those special circumstances. If not for her grandfather standing tall in the face of segregation and discrimination, if not for her mother breaking glass ceilings, if not for her dad and uncles busting their asses to cement their legacies, would she have fared okay without all of them holding the door open for her? Could she have gotten this far on her own merit if Rich hadn’t held her hand for four years? Lena’s not sure she wants to know the answers, but she’ll be damned if she’s not going to spend every day trying to silence the loudest voice that doubts her – the one in the back of her head. And now, with neck fusion surgery having almost certainly brought her brother’s career to a screeching – and likely permanent – halt, she’s carrying the King legacy on her shoulders. She doesn’t know if they’re broad enough to carry the weight…but she’s gonna try. She’ll never stop trying. It’s all she can really do.