#there's. apollo. my twin. across the room

[noxtivagus]

no way october's in a few days

[sayoneee]

☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)

contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.

kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now

LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.

the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 

you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 

“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”

“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.

“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”

hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 

you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 

you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  

“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.

luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.

“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.

“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 

“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”

“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”

“because i’m literally right?”

“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 

“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 

“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 

“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.

you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.

you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 

you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.

“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.

“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.

“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.

“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”

you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.

“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 

“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”

you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”

“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”

“— the two of you —”

“— were inseparable —”

“— for a disgustingly long time —”

“— and now you’re not —”

“— but we’re going to the fair because —”

“— his band is playing —”

“— and you’re going to try and fix —”

“— your troubles in paradise.”

you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”

“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.

“not the point, the point is, we support you.”

“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”

“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.

“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.

annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”

“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”

the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.

once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.

the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.

you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 

luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.

“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.

“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 

“i like you,” you say insistently.

“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”

there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 

smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[lawsofchaos1]

WIP Wednesday

(on a Saturday because who cares)

I have been tagged by the ever lovely @foodsies4me! And, speaking of Foodsies, if you aren't reading their two most recent WIPS - omg you are missing out. Their Daemon AU (Apollo: Blood Wars) is so twisty and delightful and full of foreshadowing for something I still can't figure out just yet, and I love that I'm still on the edge of my seat every chapter trying to guess what's coming next. Their Arranged Marriage AU (Bridges over Lakes of Salt) basically just went down my list of favorite tropes to check all of them off (Misunderstandings! Good Parabatai Jace Wayland! HoTI Alec!) and is incredible.

Anyways, a bit of of angst has been requested, so please have a little snippet from the final chapter of Laudanum:

The loft is bright, the windows flung wide to let in in the late afternoon sun, and the living room looks so completely normal that it takes Catarina three full heartbeats to turn her head towards the flung open doors to Magnus’ apothecary and understand what she’s seeing.  His heavy oak worktable has been hastily cleared, the several sheets of parchments underfoot and a shielded light-crystal wedged partly underneath the central bookcase speaking to the urgency in which it was done. Magnus sits askew, cross-legged, at the head of the table cradling Alec’s head in his lap. Alec himself is on his stomach, clearly hovering somewhere beneath full consciousness, eyes clenched shut in agony, his struggles weak and uncoordinated as small wordless noises of pain and confusion escape his mouth. Catarina catches only the barest glimpse of liquid gold eyes as Magnus bends over nearly in half, frantically trying to soothe the wounded nephilim. "Alexander-" the desperation in her best friend’s voice pierces her heart, “all shall be well, my love, I promise, just hold on, my darling, Catarina is coming - help is coming and all shall be well, I swear it, just hold on, my love, please,-" And Catarina jolts into action, berating herself already for even the momentary unforgivable pause. A bare two steps forward and she’s in the apothecary, pulling magic to her hands and taking an assessment of her patient.  Magnus doesn’t so much as look up, acknowledging her presence only with a slight change in the distressed jumble of promises and pleas as he promises Alec that help is here, he’ll be alright now, help is here. At the other side of the table is a second Shadowhunter, older than Alec - maybe in her early forties - with her hair pulled back in a complicated plait and lips pressed in a tight, white slash across her face.  The woman glances up to assess the new arrival, her muscles tensing in preparation to act until the meaning of the change in Magnus’ rambling words sinks in and she realizes precisely who Cat must be.  Twin trails run down both pale cheeks as she holds her Head’s hands to to the table, keeping him from injuring himself further. "Please," the woman begs, but Catarina has yet to stop moving.

Tagging @arialerendeair, @spiritsflame, @alexanderlightweight, and @dr-lemurr (and yes I know you only do art, but art WIPs should totally be a thing too - it's so cool to see the process!)

[golvio]

I just recently replayed Wind Waker to get back into the Legend of Zelda spirit, and am now on a Ganondorf kick; what are your big Ganondorf Songs (aka songs that remind you a lot of him)? The only one I've really come across so far is "Waltz of Malice" by Kikuo

This one took me a little while to answer because it required me to go back through my archives a little to refresh my memory.

These are a couple of songs from my big ol' character playlist that I don't think I've specifically called out in my previous playlist posts. As with most character playlists, these don't always have a 1:1 meaning, but the general vibe matches how I interpret him.

Here are some, in no particular order:

Artificial Heart by Jonathan Coulton

Cleanse the Bloodlines by Unleash the Archers (Journey wide, they're spread across the land / they will hide, they know what I plan)

Kodokushi by Aesop Rock

Jumping Coffin by Aesop Rock

Draw by Elise Wattman

The Music Room by Raphael Benjamin Meyer

The Path to the Door by David Mason

The Laughingtrush by The Weather Factory (The Book of Hours demo has a lot of lovely tracks that I like to think could back Ganondorf going for a walk in the countryside)

Sun's Splendour by The Weather Factory ("Summer: Grail, with all her gifts")

What Now? by Mickymar Productions

Apollo and Marsyas: Overture by Mickymar Productions

Nemeses by Jonathan Coulton

I'm Gonna Win by Rob Cantor

Health Is A Currency by DEADLIFE

Belly of the Beast by Gazelle Twin

Mrs. Bluebeard by They Might Be Giants

River of Despair by Ridiculon

O Ruthless Great Divine Director by Lingua Ignota (Have they told you that I'll take you for everything you've got? / Ungoverned by any master / Unloved by any god / Have they told you that my tongue is alight with violet flame? / And every eye shall see me / Every voice shall speak my name)

Just Lingua Ignota in general, man, but particularly her album "Caligula," and "I Who Bend The Tall Grasses"

Tom the Diver by Petri Alanko

Wayward Sisters by Abel Korzeniowski

Come, Gentle Night by Abel Korzeniowski

"Vissi D'Arte" from Puccini's Tosca

The whole damn Lady Macbeth aria from Verdi's Macbeth, particularly "Vieni! T'affreta!" (I like to think this is what plays every time he picks some poor delicately-featured schmuck to be his lieutenant)

"Un bel di vedremo" from Puccini's Madama Butterfly (Waiting for that one dude who doesn't screw up and die horribly, because who says this guy can't have a sentimental side? Also, this is the aria they used as the backing track for "Don't Cry For Me, I'm Already Dead")

The Herminia Suite from Octopath Traveler

The Vide Suite from Octopath Traveler 2 (One of the few tenor performances that matched his vibe, to me)

Pillar of Souls by Sufjahn Stevens

A lot of Rammstein, particularly Ohne Dich, Mutter, Diamant, and a lot of stuff from "Reise Reise" and "Zeit"

The refrain from "Zick Zack," too. This is one of the songs where the lyrics/meaning as a whole doesn't really match him, but there's something of him in the idea of tearing yourself apart to put yourself back together in a shape you want. There was something about the way Cadence of Hyrule made it sound like his monster form was something he was actually actively pursuing since he was a little boy. I heard it a little bit in Beverly's monologue about her plastic surgeries (presented here as the ultimate culmination of her obsession with death and embalming, along with her cryogenic funeral parlor for celebrities) in the (admittedly NSFW-ish if your boss doesn't view life modeling and boob jokes as artistic) "Affairs of the Art." "You just gotta take control. It's your life. I mean, look at me! Check me out! I'm sculpting myself! My own body! I'm an exhibit, right? I'm a living gallery! My body is my art! Just go for it! What are you waiting for?" Here it's not the body as furniture for the patriarchy to judge as "valuable," but the body as a vehicle for pursuing one's dreams and obsessions, as Beverly came from a family of very likely autistic people who each devoted themselves to their life's passions, as eclectic and niche as they may be). It's like the principles of Moth and Forge, this wild yearning for transformation and the disciplined mettle and ingenuity to see it through, even if other people don't like the results and wish he'd change back into something more pretty or manageable.

This is about all I can muster for now, but I hope that's a good start and you find something you're looking for from it.

[starstwinkleplanetsshine]

Daughter of the Sea

Chapter Five: I Get My Own Beach Cabin (Read on AO3 here)

Thankfully, the Apollo cabin was empty when I got there. I figured everyone was training or doing other activities, as it was the middle of the day. I gathered my few possessions quickly, took one last look around the beautiful room, and walked out the door without looking behind me. I followed the paths to the center of the U and walked up to the run-down beach cabin marked with a 3. Standing right next to the grand, imposing, shining, and ornate structure that was Cabin 1, this one looked even smaller and less impressive. The windchimes were tinkling in the breeze as I walked onto the small patio and pushed open the wooden door with a creak. 

The room inside was cleaner and warmer than I imagined it would be. It was still weather-worn, but it looked less dingy and more homey, like it had been lived in for a very long time. Something about that was comforting, and the cabin felt almost cozy. 

I stepped inside, allowing the door to shut behind me, the only light now coming through the windows that lined the walls, their sills full of seashells. On one end of the room stood a bunk bed with two full sized beds, a dresser, desk, and cozy chair. The bed was hastily made, there were shirts and shorts sticking out of the dresser, and on the wall above the bed hung a mounted horn. Looking at the unoccupied space, I suddenly felt like an intruder. This was someone’s home, my brother's home, a brother who I had never met. I thought about what he might be doing at that moment, and how he had no idea he was getting a new roommate. 

There was an open space in the middle of the room with a worn, blue carpet and a door that I guessed led to a bathroom. In this space, connected to the wall, was also a small fountain that seemed to be supplied with salt-water (don't ask me how I knew that) from an unseen source. I walked to it slowly, listening to the delicate sound of running water, and when I reached it my eyes found my own staring back at me. 

I didn’t know why, but I hardly recognized myself. It had only been two days since I left my home, but something about me looked different, almost older. My hair was the same dark brown it had always been, a mess of waves I could never tame but tried by putting it in a loose braid, the freckles on my face still creating constellations across my cheeks, and my eyes still sea-green. But it was my eyes, I decided, that looked different. Almost sadder. 

I wondered if my twin would share my sad, green eyes. 

After a while I finally tore myself away from my reflection and glanced to the other side of the room with a gasp.

There stood a full sized bed with a comforter that pictured the ocean. But not just any ocean—this one was a mixture of rolling waves in swirls of blues, greens, purples, and pinks, all melting together like an oil painting. And somehow, it was the exact comforter that I had had on my bed in Arizona. My eyes traveled to the walls, where paintings of the beach hung, perfectly placed. Next to my bed stood a nightstand, and on the wall stood a dresser and a desk, along with a comfy chair underneath one of the windows. And folded up against one of the walls was a beautiful blue privacy screen with, again, a gorgeous painting of the ocean. 

At least they stuck to the theme, I thought. 

Quietly I began to place my things in order: my clothes in the dresser, my trinkets along the windows, and my books in the small bookshelf beside the window, all except my large tome of Greek Mythology, which sat on my bedside table. When I was done, I compared the two sides of the room. Mine looked immaculate, put-together, and pristine. The other side looked messy, hastily cleaned, but lived in. His side looked like a home, mine looked like one of those model houses you can take tours of. 

I shook my head at myself. Just give it time. Everyone keeps saying this’ll feel like home soon. 

But not everyone had their godly parent choose their twin brother over them for the past fourteen years. 

With a sigh, I got off my bed and made my way out of the cabin and back to the Big House to see whatever Chiron had in store for me. 

I spent the rest of the day trying out different weapons and seeing which would be a good fit. We started with archery, which went just about as horribly as it could go without me sticking an arrow in someone. Next I tried maces, axes, and spears, all of which I was also bad at. Surprisingly I wasn’t awful at throwing knives, so Chiron set up a training regime with Cadence, who was an expert in that weapon. Lastly, I picked up a sword. As soon as I held it, it felt natural in my hand and I was surprised at how easily the basic maneuvers came to me. Chiron seemed impressed, too, and not at all surprised. He declared the sword would be my primary weapon, with throwing knives as my secondary. I was happy with that. 

Before long a loud conch shell blew, and I couldn’t believe it was time for dinner already. Once in the pavilion, I made my way to the empty table lined with tiny seashells and took a seat. I watched as the other tables filled up, the campers laughing with each other and talking about their days. 

I felt the loneliness creep in as the empty space next to me took up more and more room in my heart. I got a few looks of sympathy from the other tables, and a few kids talked to me in line to give our offerings, but no one came over to the table. I knew they couldn’t, since the night before Cadence explained that everyone sits with their own cabin for lunch and dinner, but I’d be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t wish for it. 

I told myself that I just had to be patient, that I wasn’t truly alone because I had a brother out there somewhere. It was only a matter of time until he returned from his Quest and I would have someone to sit with for meals and to fill the empty bed in our Cabin. 

I could wait until then. 

The next week passed in a blur of training, sleepless nights, and lonely meals. The hours seemed to stretch on forever but the days were flying by. I got to talk to my mom, well, my adopted mom, on the phone, and I felt like a huge weight was lifted off my chest to hear how relieved she was that I had made it there safely. 

It was already the first week of August, and Camp Half Blood was definitely starting to feel more familiar. I had been spending a lot of time with Cadence and Will, and they introduced me to a few of their friends. Soon enough, I had a small friend group at Camp, which made me feel less alone. I was still reminded of my uniqueness, though, at meals and when it was time to sleep in that empty cabin at night. Any day now, I told myself. I’ll meet my brother soon.

[brain-deadx0]

Janus’s Life

A Janus focused prequel to New Big Brother

Part 1 Ao3

Warnings: hospital, mentions of character death, stages of grief, denial, anger, etc. Let me know.

-

Janus woke up to a faint beeping noise. That wasn't his alarm?

He tried to open his eyes but only one opened and his vision was blurry. He was in a white room that smelled strongly of disinfectant.

"Janus?" A familiar voice asked.

Janus looked over slightly to see, who he guessed was Patton, sitting in a chair across the room, "Pat…?"

His little brother stood before quickly coming closer and kneeling by the bed, "Hey, Jan. How you feeling?"

"Wha'happened?" He asked in lue of an answer.

"You're in the hospital. There was an accident. You've been out for over a day."

An accident?

"I'm gonna go get the doctor real quick ok?" Patton told him before leaving.

Janus barely registered Patton leaving as he tried to remember what had happened.

Dinner at a restaurant… they had gone to see a movie of some kind… Apollo… where was Apollo?

Janus turned his head to search for another person in the room but found none. They must be in a different room right? Or maybe they were in better shape than he was and was at home with the boys.

What time was it? Was it late? He wanted to see them, but if it was late he wouldn't want them to get up and drive out with the twins.

"Mr. King?"

Janus jumped slightly at the voice before realizing Patton had come back with the doctor. Or was he a nurse?

"Yes?"

"My name is Toby, I'm a nurse. I'm gonna check you over real quick before the doctor gets here okay?"

Janus nodded, "What happened?" He asked again.

"You were in a car accident. You broke a few bones, mostly ribs, as well as your left wrist and left leg. You underwent surgery for some internal bleeding as well, you can ask your doctor more about that if you like when she gets here. You likely have a concussion as well, but we were waiting for you to wake up before determining the severity."

Janus thought for a minute. He was pretty sure there was a green light. He wouldn't have gone if it weren't right?

"Mr. King?"

Janus blinked and looked back at the nurse next to him, "Huh?"

"I'm going to ask you some questions okay?"

"I hate tests." Janus told him. He spent many sleepless hours studying for them and always felt under prepared. Apollo helped him. They didn't always understand it but they helped.

"I understand," Toby told him, "but this isn't a test. There's no wrong answers I just need you to tell me what you can alright?"

Janus nodded.

"Can you tell me what year it is?"

"20xx."

"Alright and what about today's date?"

Janus frowned, "...It's our anniversary?"

"Jan, that was a few-" Patton paused as Toby held up a hand.

"A few?" Janus asked.

"Mr. King, I'm going to give you three words and I want you to try and remember them alright?" The nurse said instead of an answer.

After answering all the questions from the nurse and a somewhat brief visit from the doctor, Janus asked the question that had been burning in his mind.

"Where's Apollo?"

Patton got a sad look on his face like that time when he was a kid and his friends dog went missing but he didn't want to cry because it would make his friend cry and Patton hated making people cry.

"They… They aren't here…" Patton told him.

Something stung in Janus’s heart.

No. Of course Apollo wasn't here. They were at home making sure the twins were okay. The boys were a handful at the best of times and he could only imagine what they could be like when it was fun uncle Pat watching them instead of Dad or Noni. They needed their Noni right now. Apollo would make sure everything was alright. They would visit soon. They were just busy right now.

"Jan?"

Janus blinked, "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" Patton asked tentatively.

"Pretty sure the doctor just told us that answer, but yes I'm fine." Janus smiled.

Patton looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it.

Janus let him.

"Uhm… Mom and Dad said they'd visit later." Patton told him with a false smile.

"But they're in Florida?" Janus told him.

"They flew in yesterday after I called them to let them know you were hurt. They're at your place right now."

"Oh."

"Yeah… the twins miss you but so far they're having fun with their Grammy and Pop pop." Patton assured him with the same awkward smile.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Patton spoke again, "You should get some rest. I'm gonna call Mom and Dad to let them know you woke up, ok?"

Janus nodded before watching his misty eyed little brother flee the room.

He had probably been really scared when Janus got hurt. He was just staying strong so Janus wouldn't feel bad. Now his emotions were catching up with him, that's all. He was gonna call Mom and Dad and have a good relieved cry and then he'd come back and tell Janus all about what Apollo and everyone was getting up to back at the house.

That was it.

...

"Janus?"

Janus groaned in confusion as he slowly opened his eye, "Mom…?"

"Hey baby," His mother said quietly as her sympathetic face came into focus, "how are you feeling?"

"Tired." He mumbled.

His mom smiled softly, "I bet."

"Wher'd Pat go?"

"He's watching the twins." Another voice told him.

Janus turned his head a bit to see his dad standing by the foot of the bed, "Hey Dad."

"Hi Kiddo." The man gave a sad smile.

"Is Apollo here?"

A cold feeling crept in his chest at the sad looks his parents exchanged.

"...Janus," his mom said as she placed a gentle hand on his arm, "there… there's something we need to tell you."

Don't.

"Janus." His dad said as he moved next to his mom and held her other hand tightly, "Janus. Apollo, they… they didn't…"

"They're gone sweety." His mom told him as tears streamed down her face.

No.

"Gone where?" Janus choaked out.

"Jan… Apollo… Apollo died."

"No." Janus told them, "No they're not!"

"Jan-"

"No!" He yelled, "The- the car hit me! My side!" he told them, "Apollo is fine! They-they are!"

"Jan… it-it wasn't just your car. The other driver-"

"They're not!"

"The collision pushed your car into more traffic. A truck-"

"You're lying!"

"Jan…"

"Stop. Please…" He begged.

"Okay sweety. It's okay." He felt his mom lean over and pull him into a hug, "Everything's gonna be okay…" she whispered into his hair.

Distantly, Janus could feel his fathers weight on the bed next to him, the extra sets of arms wrapping around him, and heard the whispered reassurances he couldn't understand being croaked out.

It couldn't be okay…

...

A few weeks later

"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" Patton asked for the millionth time.

"Patton I'll be fine. The boys just went down for a nap and they'll probably still be asleep when you get back." Janus told him, "You're going to the grocery store, not the other side of the country."

Patton hesitated before sighing, "Alright. But call me if you need me to come home early."

"Yes yes I know. Now go. I don't know about you but I'd like to have food that isn't fishy crackers for dinner."

Patton gave him the same pitiful look before sighing and leaving for the store.

Their parents had gone back to Florida a few days ago and Patton had all but officially moved in.

Janus understood why of course. He couldn't exactly care for the twins in his current state. But he still wasn't thrilled. He hadn't been left alone since he woke up in that damned hospital. And now that he was alone… it was too quiet.

His life had rarely been quiet before. At one point he believed he worked well with quiet. But Apollo had never been able to stand silence for very long.

If they weren't listening to something in the background they were making noise themselves. Usually singing, but it wasn't uncommon for Janus to hear random vocalizations in the moments where it had been silent for too long.

Just as Janus was about to find something to drown out the silence that filled the suddenly too empty house, a small creak came from upstairs.

A sound so quiet he probably wouldn't have heard it had he not been paying attention to the silence.

He listened as the small footsteps patted gently across the floor upstairs before a curious voice called out.

"Noni?"

No. Nonononono.

"Noooniii?"

Janus covered his ears as he tried to block out the twins calls. They had to stop soon right? God please let them stop.

"Noni?" "Noni!" The twins called as they ran around the house looking in, under, and around everything they could.

"Dada where Noni?" Roman asked as the pair ran over to him.

"They aren't here." He forced out trying not to let the tears slip out.

"Where Noni?!" Remus yelled.

"They went bye-bye."

"When Noni home?" Roman asked.

"Th-they can't come home right now."

"I. Want. Noni!" Remus yelled.

"Noni isn't here!"

"Noni!" he screamed.

"Noni come home!" Roman yelled.

"They aren't coming home!" Janus yelled back as the tears started pouring, "They're gone! They're never coming back and it's my fault!"

The house was eerily silent for a moment as the twins seemed to process what he said.

"... Noni no come home?" Roman asked quietly.

Janus looked up at the wobbly tone and his heart broke at the tears already streaming down his baby's face, "Noni no come home." He confirmed.

"Noni no love?" Remus croaked.

"No! No no no no no Re, Noni loves you very much." Janus told him quickly.

"Why no home!" He yelled before he started wailing, causing Roman to as well.

"Nonono please, don't cry." Janus begged as his own tears continued to fall.

"I! Want! Noniiiii!" Remus screamed before taking off down the hall.

Janus couldn't take it anymore as the calls for Noni picked up again, more frantic than before.

…

When Patton returned from the store he found the twins screaming and crying. Janus, he later found sobbing on the floor of the nearby closet covering his ears with his arms.

[gasnewsletter]

Alyag - Interview & Studio Tour

Studio

Gear List

Line 6 - Helix LT

Universal Audio - Apollo Twin X Quad

MOTU - M4

SPL - 2Control

Genelec - 8040BPM Monitors

Native Instruments - Maschine+

Native Instruments - Kontrol M32

Novation - Launchpad X

SubPac - S2

Guitars (some modded)

Schecter - C-7 Hellraiser

Schecter - SLS Elite E-1

LTD - Alexi Laiho SE-600

Fender - Player Plus Stratocaster

Taylor - American Dream AD17e

Headphones 

Slate Audio - VSX

Sennheiser - HD650

Mics 

Aston Microphones - Origin

SE Electronics - DynaCaster

Aston Microphones - Starlight

Plugins

UAD, SSL Native, Plugin Alliance plug-ins

Xfer Serum, Synapse Audio Dune 3, Arturia Pigments, Sonic Academy ANA2 soft synths

Native Instruments Komplete 14 Ultimate, and more sample libraries than I care to admit

--

Interview

Who are you and what is your relationship with music?

My name is Alyag, and I'm a lifelong tune-tinkerer, multi-instrumentalist, music producer, and sassball extraordinaire, currently based in Victoria, BC, Canada.

I've been honing the craft of writing, performing, and producing original music since my early teens, and more recently learning how to actually build a business and a career through marketing and monetization.

My main background has always been in rock and melodic metal -- I've played in many a band over the years -- however, more recently I took up the mantle of fusing elements thereof with various genres of electronic dance music. Growing up, I'd always had a tremendous love for both, but the production elements in electronic music (specifically the sound design) had genuinely intimidated me. That is until about a half-dozen years ago when, utterly enchanted by the sights n' sounds of the Shambhala Music Festival here in BC, I'd felt called to take a serious crack at it... and haven't turned back since.

By day, I peddle fine instrumental and professional audio wares at a music store; by night (and every other available waking moment), I'm arranging noise into something that hopefully makes sense, and spreading its gospel across the Interwebz. I've made a humble but steadily increasing income from my creative spewings, via gigs / streaming / sales / sync licensing / etc, and certainly aim to make it a full-time thing at some point in the near-ish future.

I'd go absolutely bonkers were I not doing it, so for me music is literally the thing that gets me out of the otherwise inescapably cozy confines of bed in the morning.

Which piece of equipment in your studio is essential to your production process?

These days I'd say it's the Slate VSX headphones.

Since I'm not currently in a position where I can afford a dedicated studio space, being able to check my mixes in some of the most renowned control rooms on professionally tuned speaker systems, all within my headphones, has been absolutely game-changing, especially in terms of being able to trust that what I'm hearing will ultimately translate in any environment. And being able to do the infamous "car test" without actually having to go to my car is pretty handy.

Also, guitars. Couldn't do without at least one (or several) of those.

What is the most budget-friendly piece of studio gear that gave you the most results?

If we're talking bang-for-buck ratio here, I'd still say the Slate VSX. They aren't cheap headphones by any means, but when I think of the amount of money I've sunk into my monitoring environment over the years -- between speakers, room treatment, calibration software, a fancy speaker switcher/controller with built-in cross-talk emulation for headphone mixing, the headphones themselves, a Sub Pac, you name it -- the value I've gotten out of these particular headphones over the past year and a bit I've owned them has far surpassed anything I'd used previously, at a fraction of the cost.

Beyond that, I'm a big fan of less expensive gear that "punches up", if you will; stuff that is oft pitted against much more expensive brand products. For example, my favorite mic for anything acoustic or clean vocal is the Aston Origin -- relatively cheap when compared to the Neumanns and the AKGs of the world, but it's the one I always go for whenever I record any of that sort of material, just because I've always loved the unique character it would impart on the recording, and how little processing it would need after the fact to sit great in the mix. It's also quite forgiving on ambient noise, which helps when you're a bedroom producer with a less-than-perfect space.

I've also found that certain cheap, almost "throwaway" instruments for some reason can record inexplicably well compared to (or at times even better than!) their higher-end equivalents. And taking it further than that, the beauty of the amount of processing anyone with a DAW has at their disposal these days, is that you can take any recorded signal and transform it into something so much more than it once was in endlessly creative ways... so it really isn't necessary to have all of the best stuff to make great tunes. I'm a firm believer in the concept of, "good enough", rather than ceaselessly chasing better and more expensive gear.

Walk us through your process for creating and producing music.

Every tune is different, and while I do try to mix things up every once in a while (starting with drums or a bassline instead of a melody, for example), I'm always open to where a new idea might spark.

Sometimes it could be as simple as flipping through presets in a new plug-in when something clicks; sometimes it could be a cool arpeggio stumbled across by happenstance by fretting the guitar in some unusual way; other times a random melody will pop into my head, and I'll try to map it out either on the guitar, or directly via MIDI in Ableton, and build on it from there.

A lot of my catchier tunes will typically start in the latter way, with a couple having even come to me in a dream... which is always a rare and precious moment followed immediately by my frazzled half-awake self scrambling out of bed and toward the computer to try to somehow capture the damn thing before it completely dissolves into the ether.

What is a production technique that you always come back to?

I don't know if I'd necessarily call it a technique so much as a preferred method, but I've never gotten out of the habit of programming all my drums entirely by hand via clicky-mouse -- as in, I literally write in every single note and adjust its velocity with the pointer.

Sure, I have drum pad controllers I could use to actually play in the percussive parts, but I've done it this way for so many years that it's just faster and somehow more efficient for me. It doesn't matter if I'm making melodic death metal or electronic dance music; the method is exactly the same, just the samples are different.

How would you explain your style?

Historically I've referred to my tunes as an eclectic amalgamation of Electro-Psy-Funk-DnB-nuDisco-Trance-Metal, which is a bit of a mouthful, hah. Thus far it's the best way I've come up with to describe my noise making antics, as they very much are as cohesive a blend of all of those conventionally-rarely-seen-dancing-together elements as I can possibly muster. Being a tremendous fan of a plethora of highly varied genres and styles, I've never been keen on pigeon holing myself into any particular one, rather opting to fuse together as many of my favorites as possible.

That being said, I'd say a fairly accurate (as I imagine it) explanation for my music would be the soundtrack to a high-stakes hover car race in a dystopian future cityscape whilst in the midst of a legendary boss battle.

What’s your biggest struggle?

Ironically, being the jack of all yet master of none in terms of niche genres makes it very difficult to appeal to curators or even labels that specialize in specific styles of music.

Often times if I try to pitch my stuff for promotion, I'll get feedback citing that it's too much of one thing and not enough of another (namely the one that they specialize in), and thus it doesn't quite fit their mold... which is precisely why I've remained 100% independent with all of my releases to date (with the exception of a couple of collaborations with other artists on their labels).

The benefit thereof, however, is that I retain all the rights to and creative control over my work, so I don't have to cater to anyone or anything other than my zany imagination.

Has building a hardware setup changed your perspective on music or life in general?

I actually do most things "in the box", and own very little hardware, as I'm pressed both for budget and space.

If anything, I've been trying to simplify my setup more and more over the years, downsizing quite a bit from what I'd used to have. For example, instead of a hefty studio rack, I now do everything on the Apollo Twin; in place of a gargantuan tube guitar amp, all my tone comes from the Helix floorboard; and instead of a band, I have my laptop, hah.

So I suppose that if I've drawn any life lesson parallels here, is that the simpler the better (at least for my own peace of mind), and the less I have to cart around to gigs and such.

One tip on how to spark creativity?

I think creativity is akin to a muscle -- exercised regularly, it grows stronger and more efficient; left to stagnate, it atrophies. So based on that analogy I'd say the most important way to maintain it is to keep doing creative things, even if only a little bit each day. Taking that same analogy a tad further, there have been studies in physical fitness that show that one receives the same amount of health benefits from light daily exercise as they do from a couple of heavy work-outs with longer periods of recovery in-between. Which is to say that, even shorter bouts of creative output multiple times a week will likely yield similar amounts of progress as one solid day of continuous flow.

And here's the thing: in the context of, say, an independent music producer who already wears many hats in the writing/engineering/producing/releasing/marketing process, creativity doesn't just mean making music. It could pertain to making a social media post; writing an email to your mailing list; updating the bio on your website; designing new merch; creating ancillary video content that delves into the production story of your new release; answering questions in an in-depth interview (ahem) -- you name it -- it's all a form of creativity... and at the end of the day, as a creative person, all of those many ways amount to flexing that muscle.

The goal is merely to keep doing the things.

A book, movie, article, or album that has inspired you?

"The War of Art", along its follow-up, "Turning Pro" by Steven Pressfield are a absolute must-reads for any creative.

Relatively quick reads, but the sense of creative empowerment and drive they instill in you cannot be understated.

Where can people find more of your music and connect with you online?

Official Website

Bandcamp

Spotify

SoundCloud

Facebook

Instagram

--

In Case You Missed It

47 - Generative Ambient

--

Friends, this is a past issue from the G.A.S. Newsletter. Every Tuesday and Friday a new artist is featured.

[lukamoonvibe]

Chapter Ten: The Space Cadets Of Chaos [Next Gen AU 1]

Chapter Index

Summary: 

Medalling with time has a consequence, the consequence of his choice is to be a slave to it until Fate decides he's no fun anymore or he escapes...but does he really want to escape anymore? It's been so long, what would even be the point of going back anymore? Would anyone still remember him? Probably not. No one escapes Fate and lives to tell the tale. Not even a traveller of time.

Fandoms: Crewniverse, Crewfu/Morning Lobby, Chaos Crew/Derp Crew

Characters: Anthony | ChilledChaos, Max Gamble | APlatypuss, Steven | ZeRoyalViking , Taylor | TayderTot, Zach | CheesyBlueNips, Lucas | KYRSP33DY, Apollo Willems | Dumdog, Albi | SideArms4Reason, Skadj, Steven Suptic, 5up, Madi | Kruzadar, Shelby Grace | Shubble [Updated as I add more]

Rating: Mature

Status: On Going

“Ze?” he turned to face his friend.

Ze had his arms crossed, his brows knitted together, “Yes, Chilled, me. Who else would come and see you? I can assure you not the Eclipse, that’s for sure.” 

Chilled opened his mouth to say something, but Ze kept going, starting to pace in front of him.

“They’ve spent months saving everyone, our kids. And all for what?”

“Kids? Sorry ‘our kids’?” he tried to interject, but Ze clearly didn’t hear him.

“You to lead them on a wild goose chase, leaving clues here, there and everywhere. Then you’re just suddenly here, on the ship, with no explanation. Did you really expect them to take it lightly? That they’d come in here, see you and be happy? You played them.”

Chilled slowly moved across the room to stand in Ze’s path, stopping the man from pacing, “Ze, listen to me. I know you’re mad; it wouldn’t surprise me if I’ve done something to piss off others as well. I’ve probably made worse mistakes. But I have no idea what you’re talking about. Our kids? I don’t have any kids. Our implies we’re a couple; when did that happen? Where are we? And what did you mean by ship? What about Jess and me? You moved on, remember, we moved past that… it's nothing more than a bit.”

Ze stared blankly at him, a mirage of emotions crossing his eyes; he let out a sigh, reached for his side, pulled something out of his belt, and in one swift movement, a blade was held against his throat.

“I knew my Chilled wouldn’t be that fucking cocky imposter,” Ze spat.

Chilled raised his hands, “Yes. I guess you could call me an imposter if it makes this easier. But seriously, we’re not going to go anywhere unless you explain what you’re talking about, I don’t belong here, and the fastest way for me to get back to where I belong is for me to do what Fate wants me to do here. If I do, you’ll have your Chilled back.”

“I don’t believe you; you could be one of those things that had the others trapped here to farm information out of me.”

Chilled sighed, keeping his eye on the blade, “I promise you I’m not whatever had your friends trapped, I know my word doesn’t mean much, but you’re going to have to take it because if you kill me now, neither of us get what we want.”

Ze shook his head and lowered his blade, “What is going on with you, Anthony?”

“I made a really stupid decision that cost me everything I held dear; now I’m trying to figure out what I have to do here to get me to the one person who can let me go home and fix my mistake,” he avoided Ze’s eyes.

“Okay…if we’re going to sell this to the twins, there are a few things you’ll have to know. I swear if you turn out to be one of those things masquerading as my partner, I will not hesitate to kill you in front of everyone here.” He found Ze’s rambling endearing.

“First, don’t mention Jess in front of anyone; she was a fling you had early on in your training. Eclipse is her birth daughter, but we never told anyone that, not even Platy and Taryn. We raised her and Luka with them, knowing we were their parents. We’ve been married since they were young. We were on a mission five years ago that went wrong; you were our leader. Train trained our kids to come and save us, you lead them to the others by leaving notes, audio messages, making your presence in general known, then before we went to save Brood, you boarded the ship unnoticed, and now we’re here, back at the facility. Did you get that?” 

Chilled shrugged, “Mostly, I guess we should probably go find them so I can apologise then, right?” 

Ze nodded, “I’ll go through it on the way to where they will be; Toast just messaged me to let me know Luka is in the office; he probably assumed you’d want to talk to them. Eclipse is never far behind him,” he said grabbing Chilled’s hand, leading him out the door.

What he assumed was some landing space turned out to be a medical area. The whole place looked like it was straight out of a sci-fi novel.

Ze led him through a series of hallways; they passed a few rooms that had faces he recognised with faces he didn’t; they all looked happy and relieved. Maybe they’re like who Ze taking me to see? Kids are relieved to see their parents, and parents are so glad that their kids are okay .

“Okay, see that door up ahead; that’s where we’re going. You need to sound convincing, so try your best not to slip up.” Ze murmured, looking down at his watch again.

Chilled nodded, “They’re pretty pissed at me, aren’t they?” he said confidently, loud enough that it’d be heard through the door.

Ze stopped for a second, shooting him a look, “I’m still pretty pissed. You avoided them, left the letters, for crying out loud, and every time you vanished, it hurt them. It hurt me.”

Chilled smirked, crossing his arms; we’re not so different, no matter what dimension we come from, if only you knew Ze.

“So you go in there, apologise and listen if they have anything to say. If they tell you to leave, you fucking leave. Understand?” Ze hissed, giving him a nod; he turned on his heel.

Chilled stared after him; drawing in a breath, he reached for the button opening the door. In front of him stood two kids. Kids, I can’t believe they’re willingly sending kids into space. They should be at school. Worrying about homework and stupid schoolyard drama…not saving people, and fighting whatever Ze thought I was.

“Hey, you two,” they tensed up, and the girl grabbed the boy's hand; he took a few steps inside the room, the door closing behind him.

[roguerambles]

Siren

Blood of Zeus Fic - Poseidon x Female Reader

Warnings - NSFW. Adult Situations. 18+ Only.

Same Reader from “Tasting Lightning” and “Between Kings.” I figured since Zeus got some one on one time, Poseidon deserved some as well :D

-

You were exhausted.

The final preparations for the annual Games on Olympus were almost complete – every god and goddess in Greece would be there, for days and days of gladiatorial matches and festivals and feasts and music. The event was always a pleasurable one, but it was the night before the opening ceremony in the Arena tomorrow and you had somehow been roped into helping the more combat orientated gods perform some last minute training for hours and all you wanted now was a bath.

Athena’s spear ripped through the wooden shield you were holding and you narrowly avoided being skewered. The Goddess of Strategy shot you a frown as you dropped the shield into the sand. “You were not even trying to dodge that one.”

“Because dodging incoming projectiles is for those who wish to live.” You flopped onto the ground, limbs aching. “Put me out of my misery already.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her spear. You groaned and struggled to your feet, thighs screaming in protest. The was a sharp crack of splintering wood and a cheer from Apollo as yet another of Hephaestus’s automatons collapsed nearby, it’s parts sprinkled with glowing arrows.

“Ares won’t know what hit him!” He slung an arm around Artemis’s shoulders as she lowered her bow, smiling at her twin’s enthusiasm. “The doubles match is ours.”

“Please.” The God of War grumbled, his hammer slung over his shoulders. “Athena and I will crush you, and then I will crush her.”

Athena snorted. “Betrayal only works so long as the intended party does not know of it, Ares.”

“You all seem raring to go.” You began to trudge towards the exit. “Clearly I am unneeded. See you all in the morning-“

“Hold it.” Athena was in front of you in an instant. “I need to you run and hold this shield-“

“I will not-“

Apollo appeared at your side suddenly, his smile bright. “Actually, I was wondering if you could sweet-talk Hephaestus into adding a few new upgrades to the chariot-“

“Why me-?”

“Forgot the chariot.” Ares approached, his frown deep, his hammer swinging at his side. “I need a better hammer. If I am going to best that blasted Hercules, then I-“

There was a loud clap of thunder, rumbling across the training grounds and drawing all your attention to end of the arena. Zeus stood by the exit, his expression amused as he observed you all.

“As much as I appreciate everyone’s enthusiasm…” The King of Olympus chuckled, before gesturing behind him. “…I think its time you all got some rest. Tomorrow’s the big day, after all.”

There was a collective groan among all of Zeus’s offspring, but you could have kissed him in relief. As everyone prepared to leave, You slipped from the group, moving sluggishly towards the exit as Zeus watched you with thinly veiled amusement.

“Having fun?” He asked innocently. You huffed, slumping dramatically into his side.

“I am no warrior. How do you all do this all the time?”

Zeus chuckled at you, shaking his head with a familiar glint in his eye. “Poor thing. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“What?” Ares said suddenly. You glanced his way to see him approaching quickly, his expression melting into a scowl. “That is not needed, Father. I will do it.”

Zeus tilted his head curiously. “She does not need an escort? Or she does not require me to escort her?” He asked, sounding genuinely interested in the answer. Ares’s eyes darted between you both, colour rising in his cheeks.

“I…I simply mean…” He seemed to be struggling for words, which was quite unlike the God of War. Ares was a God of action, but he rarely fumbled in his speech.

Zeus took pity on his son. “Goodnight.” He smiled cheerfully, his tone making it clear Ares was dismissed.

The God of War cast a suspicious look your way, but you were too tired and sweaty to particularly care. You gave him a wave as you hooked your arm through Zeus’s, your cheek falling to rest against his arm. “Goodnight, Ares.”

Looking somewhat displeased, Ares bowed slightly, before slinging his hammer over his shoulder and walking away from the training grounds, his back disappearing around the corner. As soon as he was gone, Zeus chuckled softly. “I think you’ve made him jealous.”

“Me?” You turned to face Zeus slightly, pressing your chest against his arm in a way you knew he noticed. “You are the one who interrupted a sparring session to get me to yourself.”

Zeus tilted his head back, a booming laugh escaping him. “Oh? Is that what I did?”

“You’d better have.” You trailed a fingertip along the bare skin of his waistline, before slowly trailing up over his abdomen. “I need a bath. Join me.”

Zeus chuckled lowly as you moved around to face him directly, his eyes trailing lazily over your body as it pressed into him. “Is that a command?” He asked playfully, voice falling to a low, pleased rumble. “To your king?”

You ran your hands slowly over his broad shoulders, fingertips trailing softly down his large, toned pecs and sculpted abdomen, enjoying the way his eyes darkened at your touch. “A request from a humble subject.” You murmured, flashing a small grin. “Please join me in the bath, Zeus, and I promise to be very grateful.”

Zeus hummed, tilting his head in mock thought. “…ah, the burdens of kingship.” He bowed slightly, slipping his arm under you to lift you off your feet, pulling you against him as you squealed. “Quickly, before-“

“Ahem.”

Zeus’s grin faded slightly, and he gave a heavy sigh. “…Poseidon, have I ever said you have terrible timing?”

The King of the Seas rolled his eyes, his arms folded over his chest. “Be grateful it was my timing that inconvenienced you and not someone else’s.” He said dryly. “Demeter is searching for you. Apparently she has some choice words about Hades and Persephone’s sleeping arrangements.”

“Oh, by the Fates, not this again.” Zeus groaned, running a hand over his bearded face. “They’ve been married for years, where does she imagine Persephone sleeps in the Underworld?”

Poseidon shrugged his massive shoulders. Zeus looked around slightly, his arm tightening slightly around your waist. “…if you run I’ll tell.” Poseidon said flatly. Zeus made an offended noise.

Zeus clasped a hand over his chest, above his heart. “On your own brother?”

Poseidon’s expression remained neutral. Zeus finally groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Must you always spoil my fun?”

“We both know I do nothing of the sort nearly as much as I should.” Poseidon said, a small, somewhat amused smile peeking from beneath his beard.

Zeus sighed theatrically, lifting your wrist to press a lingering kiss to your hand before flashing a playful wink. Poseidon rolled his eyes, shaking his head as Zeus strolled past him, clapping his shoulder along the way.

You sighed. Back to square one. “There goes my plan for the evening.”

Poseidon raised an eyebrow at you. “Dare I ask?”

“You could have joined.” You pouted, inwardly smirking as Poseidon’s normally regal demeanour seemed to waver slightly, a uncharacteristically flustered expression flickering across his face as he no doubt recalled the last time he had joined in on you and Zeus’s antics. “A repeat of last time sounds like just what I need…”

Poseidon cleared his throat, his back straightening. “…I thought what you needed was a bath.” He said, and you gasped in mock surprise.

“Eavesdropping? Poseidon! You surprise me.” You grinned mischievously. “Wait…was Demeter really looking for Zeus?” Your eyes widened as Poseidon shifted in place slightly. “My, my! I never thought you were the jealous type.”

“I am not jealous-“

You grinned, feeling inexplicably pleased. You knew Poseidon wanted you – the King of the Seas was not subtle in his attraction – but this was priceless. “Well, since I do not intend to bathe on my own…” You fluttered your eyelashes playfully. “…join me.”

You smiled teasingly, fingers coiling around a strand of Poseidon’s long, silky beard as you peered up at him. His golden eyes darkened slightly, slowly trailing over you, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine.

“You are insatiable.” He said after a moment, but you could see the image being weaved in his mind, images of you both naked and wet and nothing between you. You pressed your body further against his.

“Zeus said the same thing to me once.” You purred, smiling just a little wickedly. “Although in truth, his stamina proved very well matched with mine.” Your other hand trailed lightly over Poseidon’s toned abdomen, stroking the sunkissed skin softly. “Worried you will not be able to keep up with him?”

Poseidon said nothing, but you caught the slightly hint of tension in his body, his fingers coiling around his trident only slightly. “You are trying to goad me by insinuating Zeus and I are competing in some way.” He rolled his massive shoulders, his biceps flexing subtly. “Please. I am hardly so childish to fall for such a ploy.”

“Of course not.” You stepped away suddenly, flashing a bright smile. “Another time, perhaps.” You began walking in the direction of your chambers, barely holding in a pleased laugh.

You knew you would not have to wait long.

-

Steam drifted lazily from the large, marble bathtub as you sank into the perfect water with a soft moan, the heat soaking pleasantly into your tired body. The scent of lavender cast a delightfully relaxing spell over your private bathroom, and you leaned against the edge of the tub, eyes closed in bliss.

You felt a subtle shift in the air, a pulse of power that rippled lightly across the water, bringing a small, slightly smug smile to your lips. You knew Poseidon could not resist.

Large, warm palms slowly began rubbing up and down your thighs, the feeling of a broad, flawlessly sculpted body solidifying behind your own as the steam twisted and took shape around you. You laughed quietly, head flopping backwards against Poseidon’s chest, flashing a mischievous grin.

“Oh….?” You purred teasingly, reaching over to playfully trail your fingertips along Poseidon’s thick, powerful thighs, now on either side of you in the tub. “…decided to join me after all?”

“You are a damned siren.” Poseidon’s strong arms slid around your waist, pulling you further into his lap, and you purred happily at the feeling of his warm, powerful body pressed into yours.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You gasped softly as his large hands roamed slowly upwards, stroking over your hips and abdomen, caressing over your breasts. His thumb gently teased a nipple and you moaned, arching your back slightly into his touch. He chuckled lowly, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear.

“Such a tease.” One hand moved to your waist, holding you in place as his hips slowly began to grind into your back, pressing hard and hot against your flesh. The other caressed and massaged your breast, strong, warm fingers stroking and teasing. You groaned softly, wriggling against him, but his strong hands held you in place, preventing you from facing him.

“You…you enjoy my teasing…” You gasped out, moaning as his fingers danced across your hip and slid purposely between your thighs. “You think…ah….you think I don’t see how you look at me…ah, Poseidon…!”

The silky softness of his beard tickled your neck as his lips and teeth found you neck, trailing hot, lingering kisses along your skin as his skilful fingers teased and stroked. You moaned and bucked in his arms, eager to reach out and touch him in turn, but the steam seemed to solidify around you, weighing you down as he deliciously tormented you. “Poseidon….” You groaned, the water splashing over the edges of the tub as you shifted around. “…let me….ah…ah….I want to…ohhhhhhh….”

Poseidon gave a deep, smug-sounding chuckle, the sound vibrating through you and sending ripples of heat to your belly. “What? What do you want to do?” His fingers curled and stroked deep, sending a shockwave pulsing through you, making you spasm and writhe in his grasp.

“I want….Fates…Poseidon…” You growled, hips squirming against his. “Let me ride you…!”

Poseidon inhaled deeply, and you felt him twitch against you, and you gave a breathless laugh, ceasing your squirming. You leaned back against him, tilting your head to purr sensually into his ear.

“Oh? Is that what you want, Poseidon…?” You stroked along his arm, fingers coming to squeeze encouragingly around his wrist. “Do you want to see me on top of you? Riding you? Gasping your name, screaming your name, calling out for all of Greece to hear how good you feel inside-“

Poseidon stood suddenly, his arm sliding under you as he went, pulling you both from the tub and sending water crashing everywhere. You cried out in surprise, moaning as he turned you in his embrace, your arms sliding around his shoulders as your body came to face him. His eyes burned blazing gold with desire, his powerful arms pulling you close as he stepped from the tub, carrying you directly to the bedroom.

“Yes.” He said, his voice thick with want. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping urgently along your own and you moaned, your fingers rising to tangle in his teal hair, your thighs sliding around his hips, your ankles hooking around each other to lock him in place.

He lowered himself onto the bed, his strong hands grasping and squeezing your rear, making you gasp and groan as you slid into his lap. You both fumbled against each other, stroking and grasping and writhing until Poseidon moaned deeply, his eyes squeezing shut as your warmth enveloped him, his hips bucking, driving him further into you so suddenly that stars burst under your eyelids.

“Fates…!” He groaned, gripping your hips began to move together, bodies already seeking a pleasurable rhythm. “Fates, you feel so good-“

You laughed, breathless with desire, a quip on your tongue, but then Poseidon rolled his hips upwards, driving into you with the force of a tidal wave and your words melted into a moan, your body shuddering on top of his own. Poseidon dove forward, his lips hungrily roaming over your chest and neck, exploring greedily with teeth and tongue as you whimpered and cried out, his thrusts sending whirls of blissful sensation through your body.

“There…!” You gasped out, his hips angled at the perfect spot, your thighs locking tight around him as he began striking, over and over and over until…until…. “…Poseidon, there, there, there…!”

You cried out as a wave of pleasure sweeps over you, steadily pushing over the cliff and into a sea of satisfaction. You bucked and writhed in his grasp, and Poseidon gripped your hips tight, using your movement to change angle and dive deeper inside, curses spilling from his lips as you clenched and squeezed around him. You clung to him, nails raking over his sunkissed back, rolling your hips hard and fast. “Fates….! I….Poseidon….!”

Poseidon’s expression contorted with lust, determination and need painting his handsome face. You gripped his shoulders, holding on like a ship caught in a delicious storm, feeling them flex powerfully under your hands, his muscles rippling with effort, the V of his hips shaping and dipping as his thrusts grew wilder, heat flaring hot and tight low in your belly as another blast of heat began to creep up within you. Fates, again-

“Poseidon….!” You gasped out his name, nails digging into his back. The sound seemed to spur something in him, a low growl leaving his throat as his thrusts became erratic, harder and faster, and you whipped your head back, completely surrendering to the sensations as you arched your hips in time with his. Your muscles clenched around him as fire burst deep in your belly, making Poseidon moan your name through gritted teeth as pleasure crashed over you like a wave and you both fell into the abyss together.

-

Morning began to seep into the room, the low rumblings of laughter and music beginning outside. You groaned, rolling over and burying your face in Poseidon’s chest, too comfortable to move. His arms slid around you and you both lay there in a tangle of sheets and limbs, Poseidon’s heartbeat thumping soothingly under your ear, his fingertips idly tracing along your arm.

“We’re going to miss the opening ceremony.” Poseidon grumbled, not sounding particularly concerned.

“Fine.” You mumbled, and Poseidon chuckled, his fingers stroking slowly down your back.

“Hera will be displeased if we are late.”

“…Fates.” You squirmed in his arms, peeking around the room. The bathroom was still a wreck, the floor slick with water. “…ugh, I don’t want to move.”

“Alas.” Poseidon pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his beard tickling your skin. “I must prepare. I promised Zeus I’d be in his team and Fates know how he’ll pout if I am not there.”

You laughed softly, then paused, as what he said registered with you. “…wait, you and Zeus will be in the tournament?” You blinked at him owlishly.

Poseidon shrugged, giving a small chuckle. “With Hades, if you can believe it. Said the crowd would love it.” He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of whining it took for him to get Hades to agree, I thought that-“

“That sneak.” You flopped back against the pillows, aghast. “That’s why he interrupted training last night!”

Poseidon snorted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, stretching his arms. “Would not surprise me. Zeus was always crafty.” He moved to stand, but you slung your arms around his waist, holding him in position.

“Beat him.” You said firmly. Poseidon glanced at you over his shoulder, an amused smirk on his lips.

“You do realise I said we are on the same team, yes?”

“But you will not stay that way.” You countered, trailing your fingernails up along his abdomen, making him chuckle lowly. “Get to the singles matches and beat him.”

“You wish me to defeat Zeus on his own territory?” Poseidon raised his brow at you. “I am suddenly reminded why you are not the God of Diplomacy.”

“It’s not a real fight anyway!” You pouted, nuzzling into his neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Poseidon laughed, shaking his head with a small grin. “Is that so?”

“I am only saying…” You ran your fingers over his chest, playfully twirling a strand of his long, silky beard between your fingers. “…the champion of the arena deserves to be rewarded, yes?”

Poseidon’s lips quirked upwards in an amused smirk, his hand lightly grasping your hip. “And what reward were you planning to offer?”

You leaned up, lips hovering inches from his own. “You’ll have to win and find out, won’t you?”

“Siren.” Poseidon chided, but shook his head with a smirk. He began to detangle himself from the bed with some reluctance, running a hand through his long hair, the muscles in his back flexing.

You watched his naked body walk towards your bathroom, smirking softly as you lay back on the bed. “If you win I will join you in Atlantis for a time.” Poseidon stopped in place, just before the bathroom door. You grinned mischievously. “You can have me all to yourself for a while.” Your voice dropped to a playful purr. “In your own bed, in your own palace, ready to do anything you want…”

Poseidon did not turn around, but the doorframe creaked as his grip tightened on it, and you knew you had got him. “….deal.” He said finally, his voice low and heated, sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine. You grinned, hopping off the bed, striding over to lean up and peck his cheek.

“For luck.” You teased, before slipping around him. “Now…do you think we have time for a bath?”

Poseidon chuckled, his hands scooping under you, lifting you up as he made his way towards the tub, the water already beginning to bubble with a wave of his hand.

“Let’s make time.”

[0lympian-c0uncil]

The End

Artemis lay on the cold floor of the Olympian council room. The floor was cracked and the thrones were broken and crumbling. She moved her head up slightly to see the three daughters of Kronos huddling together. Hestia, the eldest, was trying to comfort her younger sisters. “It’s ok, we’ll be ok.” she whispered “I’m here. I’ll protect you” But even as she said it Artemis knew it was futile. The three goddesses' normally mocha skin had turned gray and sunken, they're usually bright and powerful eyes were dim and seemed to be flickering like a dying light. Artemis moved her head once again to see her twin Apollo. He was across the room in the arms of the war god, Ares. She wished she could hug him one more time but both had no energy to move. He looked back at her, His bronze skin was pale and pasty, his gorgeous blond hair had lost its color, golden eyes dim and flickering. He looked up at her and a weak smile played across his face. He lifted two fingers to his mouth and blew his sister a kiss, a gesture that Artemis used to dislike but it warmed her slowing heart. He then turned his head to bury it in Ares’s shoulder. Ares placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s head and whispered an “I love you” Other gods were around Artemis but she couldn’t look at any more, she couldn’t bear to see the dying faces of her family. Suddenly she felt arms around her body. The huntress had just enough energy to turn and meet the diming grey eyes of the goddess of wisdom. “Thena'' Artemis said in a weak voice. Athena smiled weakly. Artemis sobbed, the sight of her love being something she wished wasn’t happening. Her pale skin had become grey like the sisters, Her wise, confident grey eyes flickering. But Artemis still thought she looked beautiful. “I don’t want to go” “Don’t worry my love we’ll be together” Even as Athena said this Artemis knew that as soon as they died they wouldn’t see each other again. “How do you know that?” Athena took in a shaky breath “because I know not even death can separate us” Artemis wanted to disagree because you don’t wake up from death and gods don’t go to the underworld when they die. “I don’t want to lose you Thena” “I don’t either” Athena smiled “I love you Artemis” Athena then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Artemis’s cold lips but even as it happened Artemis felt the rest of the heat leave Athena’s body and her breathing stopped. She opened her eyes to see Athena’s and her heart shattered at seeing the once wisdom filled eyes dark like when a candle flame goes out. Although her heart was still beating faintly, Artemis knew her love was gone from this world. Artemis felt tears streaming down her face but she knew there was nothing she could do. She placed her head against Athena’s and whispered a faint “I love you too” Then the hearts of the gods stopped at once. And in that moment Olympus fell and the once powerful gods died.

[tfwlawyers]

Not me singlehandedly going through your entire parent trap au I’m so invested even though like half of the posts are from 2015 💀

THESE THINGS HAPPEN I get such a kick out of knowing this au is still making its rounds though 😭😭

and yk what just because I know I’m never going to do anything else with this, have a 3.5k attempted scramble of fic for this au I tried writing back also in 2015. i was even less of a writer back then than I am now so it’s absolutely terrible but have at thee

“Oh, wait...” Trucy winced and tapped her earring. Apollo’s eyes widened in realization. “Looks like we have one more thing to do tonight - it’ll be super quick, I promise.”

“Oh no,” Apollo said, visibly paling, “there’s no way you’re doing that to me-”

“Then cutting my hair was a total waste,” Trucy huffed, tugging at a newly shorn lock, “because there’s no way I can go to camp with pierced ears and come home without. Come on, Polly, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s just one little pinch!”

“Just one?” he asked hesitantly, eyes now trained on the sharp needle laying on the table.

Trucy paused. “Well... I guess it’s technically two. I really only wear the one earring, but both my ears are pierced.”

Apollo sighed. “Great.”

“Nah, I got this,” Trucy said, grinning toothily. “I went with Aunt Maya when she wanted to get hers pierced, even though she chickened out at the last second.” She picked up the needle and a book of matches from the table, eyes glinting. “I had to get mine repierced because of infection the first time too. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

-

“Put that apple slice back,” Apollo said, narrowing his eyes at the piece of fruit in Trucy’s hands. “They’re acidic, I don’t need that anywhere near me and oh God you’re really going to shove a piece of metal into my ear, aren’t you-”

-

“You sure I look okay?” he asked, patting down the skirt. He squinted down at the stark white boots he’d thankfully fit into. “I’m terrified to walk in these, they look like death traps -”

“Which is why we’re practicing,” Trucy said primly, wiping her hands on a gel-stained rag. She still didn’t quite have a grasp on the correct ratio of product to actual hair, but she was much better than when they had started five weeks ago. “Now, walk towards me.”

-

“One last thing, I guess,” Apollo said, removing his bracelet and handing it to Trucy, watching as she carefully slid it on. He rubbed his now bare wrist absentmindedly, feeling strangely naked without it.

“So... this is really it. We’re really doing this.”

“We’re really doing this,” Trucy confirmed, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. For all her apparent enthusiasm, she looked as nervous as he felt. The studs in her ears reflected the morning light.

“Give papa a hug for me,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Give daddy one for me too,” she said.

They hesitated a moment more before Trucy threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders. Apollo’s arms immediately snaked around her waist, drawing her in tight. They clung to each other, silently willing and praying this was somehow going to all work out - that they wouldn’t just to get to meet their other parent, that they wouldn’t only get a few short weeks with the other father they hadn’t even known had existed, but that they could find some way to reconcile the two, that they wouldn’t have to lose anyone across the wide expanse of the Atlantic ever again.

-

“You’ve had your ears pierced,” he said almost absently, cradling her head between his hands and gently turning her neck back and forth to better view the studs. He clicked his tongue. Trucy felt her heart sink.

“Do you... hate them?” she asked tentatively.

Edgeworth’s eyes snapped to hers. They were the same soft gray color as the paint Daddy always kept too much of around the house. “On the contrary - I find they suit you incredibly well. Please tell me you didn’t get an infection.”

Her face split into a wide smile.

-

Apollo thumbed through a stack of canvases that had been shoved into a corner. There was a thin layer of dust of them; if he had to guess, he’d say they hadn’t been disturbed for at least three months - not a particularly long stretch of time, all things considered. They were clearly less polished works, lacking the technical skill and attention to detail that made Phoenix Wright a name to be reckoned with in the art community, but they were still beautiful in their own way. Paintings of vineyards and what looked like London, towering skyscrapers and calm seas and -

His father.

Apollo blinked.

The portrait of Miles Edgeworth drawn in rich oils did not blink back. Nor did the three that followed.

-

“There were a lot of paintings of the same person in daddy’s works. Some guy with grey hair,” Apollo said, struggling for nonchalance.

Maya’s grip on the mixing bowl faltered. “Is that so,” she said carefully.

“Was he one of daddy’s favorite models or something he just never told me about?”

Maya pursed her lips and continued stirring with a newfound vigor. “You could say that.”

-

“You’re not Apollo?” he asked, voice thick. “You’re Trucy?”

She smiled weakly. “That would be correct.” One strand of hair fell lank across her forehead - how did I not notice, Apollo hasn’t used nearly that much gel in years - and he absentmindedly tucked it behind her ear. He felt her press into the warmth of his hand, as if she were afraid he might suddenly vanish across the Atlantic again.

“I hope you don’t - I hope you don’t hate me,” she said, voice beginning to waver, “it’s just that Polly and I met at the camp and the whole thing sort of just spilled out. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and Polly felt exactly the same way about Daddy, so we sort of just - just switched lives and hoped it wouldn’t take you so soon to notice. I really hope you don’t hate me, because I’ve wanted to meet you basically my whole life and I hope that maybe one day you can love me for me and not Polly and -” (this is ALL from movie tho so mix this up)

Edgeworth’s left hand came to cradle the rest of Trucy’s face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Oh, my dear,” he said, cautiously tugging her forward. She came willingly, all but sprawling across his chest, tucking her head underneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his middle. “I’ve loved you since the day you came to me,” he whispered into her hair, blinking away the beginnings of tears he felt gathering at the corner of his eyes. He felt her tighten her hold and he did the same.

-

He poured himself a thumbnail of scotch, perfectly content to pretend he didn’t have tickets to a plane back to a state he had vowed never to set foot in again departing in less than four hours. “He was rather handsome,” he found himself admitting, absentmindedly swirling the glass and taking a sip. He paused, staring at nothing and mumbling to himself, “...had the most crooked smile. Always made me weak at the knees.”

“What was that, sir?”

Edgeworth snapped his attention back to the other man; he’d nearly forgotten Gumshoe was even in the room. “Nothing, nothing, never mind, have you seen the tickets?”

Gumshoe shrugged. That was Trucy’s cue.

“Almost ready, papa?” she asked, stepping smoothly into the room from her hiding place behind the thick wooden door. Edgeworth looked just as wild-eyed as she’d been hoping.

“Yes, of course, I’m almost finished packing -”

She didn’t even have to look at his still mostly bare suitcase to know he was lying.

“ -and you did tell your father we were coming, didn’t you?” he finished, placing his drink on a nearby dresser and running his fingers shakily through his hair.

“Absolutely,” Trucy promised.

“Ah,” Edgeworth said, fiddling with his waistcoat buttons. They looked like they’d been polished recently.

“Liar,” Gumshoe leaned down to whisper. She shushed him.

-

“Might I suggest we continue this little gathering inside,” Maya said, already beginning to shepherd the twins - the twins, she was going to need another vacation just to process the fact that they were together again - into the room. She twisted back around to look at Edgeworth, still shoving Apollo (that was Apollo, right?) forward. “Hi,” she began again, offering a free hand, “you probably don’t remember me -”

“Maya!” he interrupted, smiling warmly and bending to kiss her chastely on the cheek. His breath was sour with vodka and his glasses clunked awkwardly against her face. As he turned and stepped fully into the room, Maya’s cheeks(rp) began to hurt from smiling so fiercely.

“I knew I always liked him,” she said to no one as she closed the door.

-

This was ridiculous. This resort was full of entirely too many people who favored the same sort of eccentric clothing that man had even fourteen years ago, a disproportionate amount of them with the same slate grey hair. He almost would have written that (awkward*) expression seen from across Dahlia’s shoulder/a hotel lobby as a figment of his overtaxed imagination had it not been so much realer than the stacks of canvases in his studio. Which meant Miles was here, but he’d swept the first level of the hotel twice already after begging Dahlia to take to her room for a bit, the pool area was as depressingly empty as the inside was, and -

There he was.

Across the pool, descending the steps carefully from the inside lounge area and walking on the balls of his feet like he always did when he’d had a bit too much to drink (and why did he still remember that) was, without a doubt, Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Edgeworth was halfway down the opposite path before Phoenix realized he should probably do something.

“Excuse me,” he said, shouldering his way through the crowd. It would be rude and more than a little intrusive to just call out his ex-husband’s name in the middle of a resort, right? Perhaps not as rude as nearly shoving the poor bellboy into the shrubbery, but, well, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He didn’t immediately notice the odd assortment of friends and family and a lumbering man in striped green swimming trunks perched on pool chairs as he stepped past, but they certainly noticed him.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Trucy asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said vaguely, refusing to take his eyes off Edgeworth. He was abruptly terrified he might vanish again if he did.

He

“Nick, watch out -”

“Hey, pal -”

“Daddy -”

With that, Phoenix collided into a passing service boy, arms pinwheeling wildly as he fell directly into the pool behind him.

-

“Hello Miles,” he said, smiling sheepishly and wringing out his tie. He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck and settled for clenching his hands into tight fists instead. “Or do you people call you Edgeworth now?”

“Miles is - Miles is fine,” Edgeworth said weakly, trying to look anywhere but Phoenix, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they should be having for the first time after fifteen years. “My father still calls me Miles.”

-

Something warm coiled in his chest. It felt infinitely more dangerous than it had fifteen years ago.

“You always had a smart mouth,” he murmured, rubbing a swathe of cleaning ointment along the cut on Phoenix’s forehead. Phoenix hissed.

“So glad you remembered,” he bit through gritted teeth.

“Hush.”

Phoenix hmmed but stayed silent for a few more seconds, staring at Edgeworth as he dug back into the first aid kit. Edgeworth tried not to flush under the scrutiny.

-

Phoenix held his wrist in a loose grip. He should have felt clammy from the pool and the rapidly descending night, but he blazed oddly hot against Edgeworth’s skin.

“Miles, I-”

“Feenie? Who is this?”

“Dollie!” Phoenix said, shooting upright and wincing at the sudden dizziness.

-

Edgeworth’s burgundy coat was hung carefully over his arm, too thick for the warm California night. The buttons on his waistcoat glinted from a nearby streetlamp’s glow.

Phoenix swallowed.

-

“Do you have any idea where they’re taking us?” Edgeworth asked, leaning in slightly. Phoenix’s (nose twitched? something about scent memory?) and he refused to let himself acknowledge that Miles’s choice of aftershave hadn’t changed since the day they’d met. He abruptly remembered the taste of cheap wine and overly sweet cake on his tongue, felt the ghost weight of a ring fifteen years gone.

He hastily turned away.

“No idea.”

-

“Grandfather chipped in a bit -”

“Apollo,” Edgeworth warned.

“Alright, so Grandfather chipped in a lot, whatever, we’re poor teenagers, the point is,” he said, emphasizing the final word by pulling the ship’s impressive doors open with a firm tug, “it’s ours for the night.”

Phoenix whistled shrilly in appreciation, instinctively reaching out to ruffle Apollo’s hair. It was a testament to how important the night was that Apollo merely batted Phoenix’s hand away. “Seriously, dad,” he mumbled. His scowl was clearly forced, however; he felt oddly warm that he was able to finally use that word at all.

-

“Subtle,” Phoenix remarked.

“Mm,” Edgeworth agreed. “I don’t suppose we should let their efforts, however misguided they may be, go to waste, should we?”

“You just want to know who else they roped into this ridiculous scheme of theirs.”

“Oh, because you don’t.”

“I,” Phoenix said, moving to the chilled champagne propped by the windowsill and popping its cork, “have a perfectly healthy level of curiosity. It does not involve wondering what’s going on in my kid’s head. Trucy is a teenager. That’s terrifying.” He carefully poured the sparkling drink into two glasses and offered one to Edgeworth.

“I find that somewhat difficult to believe,” Edgeworth said, striding forward and taking the  proffered glass. He made certain their fingers did not brush. “Thank you.”

-

They waited until she had hastily bowed out of the room before turning their focus back to each other. “Miles, that’s why we came up with this arrangement in the first place,” Phoenix continued, nonplussed.

“Really?” Edgeworth carefully picked up his glass flute, trying to ignore the tremor he felt running through his hands. “I thought it was because we’d agreed to never see each other again.”

Phoenix’s heart clenched. “Not ‘we’, Miles,” he said slowly, spreading his hands on the tablecloth and feeling like if he missed a step here, he would risk something he couldn’t afford to lose again.

Edgeworth took a shaky draw of wine. “You know,” he said slowly, seemingly forcing himself to meet Phoenix’s eyes, “that part is unclear to me as well.”

“Oh, you don’t remember the day you packed?” Phoenix asked.

“No, I remember that day perfectly. Did I hurt you when I threw that - oh God, what was it -”

“It was Kamisar’s Modern Criminal Procedure. It left a dent in the wall from where it rebounded off my head.”

“Oh,” Edgeworth said, at least having the grace to look properly abashed. “Right. Sorry.”

Phoenix shrugged. “It’s not like I was making it that easy on you.

-

And....” Edgeworth trailed off, twisting a napkin between his fingers. “You didn’t chase after me.”

Phoenix felt (something) shift. “I didn’t know that you wanted me to.”

-

“A toast to -”

“Our children,” Edgeworth cut in. He ignored the tightening in his chest at the our.

“Our children,” Phoenix repeated slowly, as if the words didn’t quite match with what his mouth had wanted to say.

“We both got where we actually wanted to go.”

Phoenix’s eyes never wavered from his. “We did,” he said, voice strange.

They toasted again and finished their meal in silence.

-

“Apollo, what are you doing in those clothes? We’ve got a plane to catch.”

“We’re getting totally ripped off,” maybe-Trucy said. “Daddy said we’d get our camping trip and we want to go.”

“Wait, hang on,” Phoenix interrupted, “what camping trip?”

“The one Aunt Maya and I make you take us on every year before school starts,” almost-definitely-Trucy said. Phoenix began to lift his finger in triumph, sure he’d found his kid -

“ -the one behind the house that runs all the way up to Gourd Lake, remember when you fell in that one year,” I’m-not-too-sure-if-this-one-is-still-in-fact-Apollo finished.

Phoenix’s arm fell listlessly to his side. Edgeworth snorted.

Phoenix shot Edgeworth a look. Thanks for helping, one of these is yours. “This is entirely unfunny, you’re going to make your father miss his flight,” he said, shifting his attention back to the twins. Honestly, he was an Ivy University graduate and Miles was a world renowned defense attorney, how were they being duped by their own kids -

“Apollo -” Edgeworth began.

“Yes?” they both said in unison.

Edgeworth groaned. “They get this from you, I’m sure,” he said.

“It’s not my fault you’ve apparently been raising a devilishly deceptive teenager,” Phoenix quipped back, never taking his eyes off the twins. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine pound at the base of his neck. “He’s probably rubbed off on Trucy.”

The twins grinned.

Phoenix rubbed a hand over his eyes before stooping to their height once again. He stared hard at each of them, looking back and forth between their faces. “This one’s Trucy,” he said slowly, pointing a finger to the sibling in orange. “I’m positive.”

“You know, I hope you’re right, Daddy. You wouldn’t want to send the wrong kid all the way back to Germany - ”

“ - would you?”

How was any of this fair?

“Here’s our proposition. We go back to Daddy’s house, pack our stuff, and the four of us leave on the camping trip.”

“The four of us?” Edgeworth interjected. They ignored him.

“And when you bring us back,” maybe-Trucy-maybe-Apollo continued, “we’ll tell you who’s Trucy and who’s Apollo.”

“Or,” Edgeworth said, carefully stepping around and in front of Phoenix and crossing his arms firmly across his chest, tapping his finger rhythmically against his arm, “new plan. I take one of you back to Germany with me whether you like it or not.”

Two identical sets of eyes twinkled back at him.

(He felt a migraine beginning to pound in his left temple.)

-

“You can cook now?” Edgeworth asked.

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix said. “I can make pasta. And pasta. Probably more pasta, if you ask really nicely.”

“Hm,” Edgeworth said, eyebrows scrunched in mock thought, “pasta sounds good.”

Phoenix grinned, bumping Edgeworth’s shoulder. He was warm through the cotton. “Pasta it is.”

-

Edgeworth looked across the seat at Apollo. His glassy eyes reflected the flickering street lamps as the taxi sped down the empty street.

“Apollo, I -” he began, deflating as Apollo turned further away. It’s entirely justified, he thought despondently. I’d hate myself as well.

-

“Grandfather?” Apollo called, shrugging out of his heavy jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. The house was silent.

“I’ll check the study,” Edgeworth said, tugging his jabot loose. Apollo nodded and headed towards the direction of the kitchen, toeing off his shoes on the way. Pushing open the wide doors that led to the study, Edgeworth saw someone reading a paper at the desk. He cocked his hip against the door and crossed his arms. “Hello, father. We’re back.”

The newspaper lowered. It wasn’t Gregory.

“Hiya, papa,” Trucy said. The corners of her mouth were quirked despite her obvious attempts to reign in her expression. “Did you know the Concord gets you here in half the time?”

Edgeworth slipped against the doorframe. He felt the knob dig into his hip. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”

(Edgeworth was acutely aware of the doorknob digging into his hip from when he pressed against it. “I - yes, I’ve heard that.”)

Apollo walked into the room, drawn to the sound of voices. When he saw Trucy his face split into a blinding grin. “What are you doing here?”

Trucy neatly folded the newspaper on the desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “It took us about thirty seconds after you left that we decided we didn’t want to lose you two again,” she said, eyes crinkling.

Edgeworth swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “We?” he said, voice cracking.

“We,” a new voice agreed.

From the corner of his eye, Edgeworth noted Trucy moving to stand by the far wall of the study, giving the vaguest attempt of privacy. It didn’t matter. His eyes were trained on Phoenix, tracking his movement as he crossed the room.

-

Phoenix peppered his face in light kisses, smiling into the curve of his throat and pressing his lips to the thrumming heartbeat beneath his skin.

They eventually pulled back, desperate for air. Phoenix’s eyes crinkled - crow’s feet, Edgeworth thought wildly through his haze, he’s got crow’s feet now, I haven’t seen him this close up since - and he rested his forehead against Edgeworth’s.

“God, I’m never letting you go again,” he whispered, hands snaking around the other man’s back to pull him even closer.

-

“You want to toast with this? I’d have thought you might want to upgrade to something with a little more class.”

Phoenix smiled sloppily, pressing a chaste kiss to his temple. “You’re the only one I said I’d drink it with, remember?”

Edgeworth smiled back. He took the proffered bottle warmed by the weather and tugged his husband into a proper kiss, matching rings glinting in the dying sunlight.

[caiuscassiuss]

tease ⎮ k.th (snippet)

TEASE IS OUT NOW!!! FIND IT HERE

Description: You knew you were hot. You saw how the guys looked at you, how their eyes were drawn to a tight t-shirt or short skirt. And maybe this would fail epically—crash and burn like a failed experiment—but you wanted to get under Kim Taehyung’s skin the only way you knew how.

Genre: Brother’s best friend (jungkook is your twin brother lol) au/ enemies-to-lovers WC: (estimated) ~10k Warnings: graphic smut (Dom! Taehyung + Brat! Reader, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation kink/ slight slut shaming, masturbation, blow jobs, cunnilingus, edging, light dub-con, spanking), reader is promiscuous and a tease™ 

The incident at the club was definitely an offensive blow to Taehyung in your non-existent game, as he watched you differently in the times you ran into him. He looked a lot more contemplative and a hell of a lot angrier that you tamped down a victorious smile. You were gonna blue ball him so hard he would rue the day he snitched on you to your parents.

You had already planned on skinny-dipping in the pool when Taehyung was sleeping over one night, but your plans were ruined as your parents announced a family trip to the lake cabin rental.

You had pasted on a smile at the news, looking happy to escape from the city, but inwardly you pouted. This trip would put you out of commission, so to speak. You wouldn’t see Taehyung for the next few weeks and you were sort of worried the thing you had going on would fade as he, inevitably, would fuck some random girl to get over the tension.

However, imagine your joy as your amazing, heaven-sent brother asked if he could drag Taehyung along and all the parties agreed.

The four hour car ride was monotonous, with you parents at the front, your brother and his friend in the middle, and you unfortunately cramped at the back. You glanced at Taehyung, who was fast asleep with his spidery lashes brushing his cheeks. You patted your backpack absentmindedly, where your secret weapon was stored. You were pulling out the big guns this time. No fucking around. He was going to be begging to fuck you.

Your family arrived at the rustic cabin you were renting and you jumped out of the car to stretch your poor, poor back. Your parents, of course, took the master bedroom so that left the two guest bedrooms between the three of you. Jungkook and Taehyung would be sharing a room while you would have your own and honestly, you thought the heavens were smiling down on you, because the rooms were connected with a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. 

You just had to wait for the right moment. Everyone was exhausted and took a nap, which resulted in you pacing around your room, deep in thought.

Your parents had decided to go out for dinner at the township a little while away, while Jungkook fibbed a lie about going to the woods for a hike and instead snuck away to the beach for girls. Apparently, from what you could hear from inside your bedroom, Taehyung was still asleep and refused to go hiking with Jungkook. They also thought you were asleep too, your dad taking a moment of pity on you by acknowledging how hard you’ve been working at school and sports.

Inwardly, you fistpumped. They were finally leaving you and Taehyung alone, so you could finally enact your plan.

You hid your vibrator underneath your sheets and waited for Taehyung to wake up. You didn’t have to wait long as you heard the creaking of floorboards in the other room.

Tossing away your shirt, you were left in just your bra and panties. Settling down on your bed, you turned the vibrator on low and rubbed it against your panties. A slight, quiet groan escaped your mouth and you felt arousal start to form on your nether lips. Dragging the vibrator up and down against your covered slit, your ears perked up at the sound of shower starting in the conjoined bathroom.

You repeated the motion a few times, before you pressed the tip of the vibrator hard against your covered pussy. It pressed against your clit and you felt your vision swim, a slight yelp escaping your mouth. For a while, the shuffling around the bathroom stopped and you froze, half excited and half anxious.

You heard metallic scrape of shower rings and relaxed. You circled the vibrator around your slit a bit more, stimulating the motion of penetration lightly and arousal definitely stained your panties. 

Moving your panties to the side, you let the tip of the vibe rest against your clit, rotating it to cover it in slick and burrowing it deeper into your pussy. A loud whine left your lips, one he definitely heard, and you panted heavily. The muggy air pressed down on you and the blood rushed around underneath your skin.

Shoving down your bra, leaving your breasts obscenely pushed out against the cups, you dragged your fingernails across the sensitive skin of your breasts. Groaning, you turned your face to burrow your head into your pillow.

Slowly inserting the vibrating dildo into your pussy, a shout left your lips as your pussy contracted against the object suddenly. The lack of action over the past few weeks definitely made you more sensitive.

Chest heaving, you left the vibe in to adjust to it. Taking it and feeling arousal coating your fingertips, you slowly pushed it in and out of your pussy. Your eyes shut in pleasure and strangled yell emanated from your throat, your legs relaxing until you could feel both legs spread for the world to see. The cotton sheets suddenly felt too hot against your skin and you pushed them hurriedly away.

You pressed the vibe in and out of your now sopping wet pussy and your fingers pinched at your breasts, circling around your perked nipples. The shower in the background sounded muffled to your ears as you sunk into a veil of pleasure.

Thrusting the vibe deep into your pussy, you hit your g-spot and you choked, an embarrassingly loud groan filling the air. You undulated the vibrator against your g-spot and clit repeatedly, black spots and bright lights flashing against the back of your eyelids. Your moans were now non-stop and you knew Taehyung could hear you even if he was downstairs.

Memories of his dark eyes, veiny neck and arms, and sweaty shoulders made you tense up. The vibrator hit your g-spot and clit at once and you tweaked your nipples, a scream leaving your lips as felt light exploding in your vision and your pussy clenching the vibrator. Your knees knocked painfully together as you orgasmed, eyes shut and mouth wide open to moan loudly into the air.

The waves of pleasure washed over you and gradually left, leaving you panting into the air. The air conditioner brushed against your sensitive pussy and aftershocks rocked your body, clamping your lips tight to stop groans from escaping. Pulling the vibrator out, you could feel slick start to coat your pussy and thighs.

Closing your eyes, the blanket of placidity settled over you. Wow, you had really needed this, hadn’t you? All your scheming and schoolwork had—

A hard knock startled you out of your thoughts and you registered the shower had stopped. The knock rattled the doorframe and made you wonder how mad Taehyung was on the other side.

“Taehyung? Do you need anything?” you asked, voice slightly high-pitched and cracked.

“Open up, Y/N,” he grumbled.

You threw on a large t-shirt to cover your chest and leaking pussy, nearly stumbling as you walked to the door.

“Y-yeah?” you asked, cracking the door open a bit. Taehyung pushed the door open roughly, and you almost tripped over air.

He stood there, shirtless and wet, glaring at you from underneath his wet bangs. You gulped, nipples instantly perking up again at the aura restrained anger he exuded. Your eyes followed a drop of water that dripped from his hair and landed with a plop on his chest, working its way down his toned pectorals and defined abs and then into his Apollo’s belt—

“—it down?”

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, wide eyes snapping to meet his.

“H-Huh?” you blurted out, uncharacteristically flustered.

“I said,” he huffed, nostrils flared, “Can you keep it the fuck down?”

You didn’t even have to pretend to flush and act nervous. “O-oh, sorry—”

He gave you an unreadable look, fire burning in his eyes, then snorted and slammed the door. For a while there was silence. A slight pout painted your lips and you shifted your weight, now feeling your arousal drip down your thigh. You had thought this would be the time he would crack but he didn’t. A bit worried at the radio silence, you suddenly heard a soft, strangled groan that emerged from the other bedroom.

You smirked. It was only a matter of time before he cracked.

Hi everyone! This is my first foray into BTS fanfiction and break from indefinite hiatus, so I really hope all of you liked this sneakpeek. Honestly it’s not anything deep but I guarantee you it will edge all of you so hard :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!

Estimated release date: Jan 6th, 8 PM ET

[authorgirl1111]

First time she saw Apollo, was when he and his twin sister Artemis were inducted into the Olympian Council.

The celebration that followed lasted several days and everyone was expected to make an appearance.

"Damn" Eos said when she saw Apollo with his long blonde hair, and his chiseled abs and...

Helios laughed, "Dear Sister, you're married."

Eos rolled her eyes. "I am married, not blind."

"Is our illustrious sister, eyeing the new member of the council?" Selene said as she appeared with three glasses of nectar.

"She's quite smitten" Helios said.

Eos elbowed her brother. "I am not!"

"She is." Helios whispered to Selene.

Selene gave a smile that made Eos' stomach drop down into her toes. "Perhaps I should ask if he would like to meet you. I've spoken to him before I'd be perfect for introductions."

Eos shook her head. "Selene, please, No."

"Why not sis, it's just talking." Helios mocked.

Eos looked around the room and and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Astraeus speaking to one of the nymphs that had come to the party.

She waved at him, he took one look at her face and immediately made his way over. "What is it lovely wife of mine?" He said putting an arm around her waist.

"My sister and brother are teasing me." Eos said with a pout, "I wish to dance."

Astraeus gave her a long kiss. "Than a dance you shall have, my pet."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be dancing with Apollo?" Selene asked with a giggle.

Eos glared at her siblings while Astraeus just laughed. "Eos is quite capable of making her own decisions, if she wished to speak to Apollo she would be speaking with Apollo. As such she wishes to dance with me now."

With that Astraeus turned and led Eos to the dancefloor where they danced together.

"I meant nothing by it." She told her husband quietly. Her husband wasn't stupid she knew that he likely knew what Helios had been speaking about.

"I know." Astraeus said. "I trust you Eos."

Eos smiled and pulled him down so they could rest their forheads on eachother. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Across the room Apollo watched as Astraeus and Eos danced and idly wondered if he would ever have a love as tender as that.

[lemondragon42-art]

Same face, Many Lives (AKA the Apollo Justice Clone AU)

Hoo boy. Ok so while this is first and foremost and art blog I do enjoy sharing the weird and wild AUs that exist in my mind and besides the room full of Vampires there is another main AA AU I have. One that has slowly become to known as the “Clone AU” Why? Well... The AU spawned from a joke during a discussion I was having with some others in a discord server about Apollo’s different backstories when someone made the joke that it was actually multiple clones of Apollo running around which was why there was inconsistent backstories. My brain so helpfully said “you can make an AU out of this” THEN I DID! And this is some of the notes for it. Inspired a lot by the show Orphan Black (or at least an AU fic I read once because I haven’t seen the show)  Same thing as always, under the cut because these posts get long and spoilers for AJ, DD, and SOJ (AA4, 5 and 6) 

OVERVIEW

 An organization run by a secret figure) selected a random couple to be the DNA donors for the project. This being Thalassa Gramarye and Jove Justice who in this AU are not in Khura'in but in LA. The DNA is taken from the already pregnant with Apollo Thalassa and then refined and given to various pregnant women across the world. Some including a Queen Amara, Abigail Larke, Dr Circe Luna and Thalassa again but in the time before she became pregnant with Trucy. Amara is a unique case where the DNA split off from each other and became twins. The only known twins in the project. And a bit of a parent trap thing where the twins were separated during the attack on Queen Amara and one twin was kept behind and became part of the royal family while the other twin was taken in by Dhurke and raised with the rebels. They have no idea the other exists. Nahyuta knows because if I'm keeping with the story he's met both of them but he has no real way of breaking the news.

The AU begins in the month between 4-1 and 4-2. Apollo, with only with his AJ backstory in this AU, is having a bad week. His boss just got arrested for murder, his idol isn’t who he thought he was and he is running out of time to pay rent. Things suck. It gets worse when he sees a young man with his face stumble out of an alleyway after clearly being stabbed. The man giving him a flash drive before dying in front of Apollo. On the flash drive is an AI known as Truth, who was created by the murdered man (who was a hacker also known as Truth who will be known as Truth Prime) explains that there are multiple clones and he has been tasked with finding them and bringing them together, with Apollo being the one who can help him. Of course mysteries are already piling up? Who killed Truth Prime? Who made the Clones? How many are there?

...Are they being hunted?

Apollo is about to find out.

PROFILES (AKA The Clones)

Each one has a unique name and is partially made from a split off part of Apollo’s DD or SOJ backstories.

Apollo: Not really a clone but the protagonist of this little story. The lawyer we all know and love. Keeps his AJ backstory but that it.

Truth: Both the Hacker who was killed and the AI who guides Apollo through the story. As he explains, Truth Prime built him before he was killed as a complete digital copy of himself. You could almost say a clone. His personality and most of his memories were uploaded to his software so he’s an AI but acts so human. Sassy, smart, can hack pretty much anything. Roasts Apollo. 

Connor Larke: A local musician. Fairly chill and nice. Huge Gavinniers fan. All in all just a guy with a guitar thrown into a wild mystery with his fellow clones. The first to be recruited after Truth. 

Aries Luna: Originally from Houston, Texas, Aries and his Mum moved to LA after both were offered a position at GYAXA. Aries is training and studying to become an engineer but has placed into the Astronaut Program to become a “Space Mechanic” as he jokingly calls it. Himbo adjacent. He is quite smart and knows the ins and outs of pretty much any machine. Incredibly kind-hearted and sweet. Strong minded, strong-willed and just strong. Best friends with Clay Terran who he also has a crush on. Second to be recruited. He’s also the only clone out of the group with freckles!

Criss Gramarye: Older brother to Trucy and also adopted by Phoenix after the events of the Gramarye case. Youngest out of the group of clones at 19. Thalassa gives up Criss to the Gramarye's after having him not long after Jove dies (Criss being the closest thing to an actual biological brother to Apollo) and meets/falls in love with Zak Enigmar. Criss is around 12 when Phoenix adopts him but keeps using the Gramarye name as a stage name. Though outside of that and legally he will go by Criss Wright. A little mischievous and wicked sharp, he is an excellent lie teller and spotter who sees Apollo as an older brother once they get over the shock of meeting each other. Which I suppose, Apollo is. Meets Apollo during Turnabout Corner when he shows up at the office asking about Phoenix. 

He’lios Sahdmahdi: One half of the twins and the one taken in by the Khura’inese royal family. Is kept a secret from most people.He is a little more in tune with spirits and spirit "magic" than some people, not to extent where he can channel but more than average. Like having Gramarye DNA balances out and the blocks in the fey/Khura'in bloodline that wouldn't allow him to see/interact with spirits (something I'm taking from a fic where Apollo is part Fey and the Gramarye blood does exactly that). Has the looks of a royal holy figure. Like if you took Nahyuta and Apollo and fused them (he even has a similar catchphrase of “I’m fine, let’s move on.”) , he doesn't look like he can fight. Until he flips you on your back without breaking a sweat. Overall has the grace and strength of a dancer.

Dah’gur Sahdmahdi: The twin taken in by Dhurke and the defiant dragons. Due to the events that caused him and his twin to be seperated, Dah'gur has burn scars up one side of his body. Those who know SOJ know why. He'lios has some too but they're not as prominent so they are easily hidden. One of the more hot-headed clones with a strong dislike of the royalty. Compared to the graceful strength of his brother, Dah’gur has more outward strength. That of boxing, mixed martial arts and blades. Dah’gur is stone while He’lios is water. He’lios is the calm and Dha’gur is the storm. 

That's it for now. I was contemplating whether to actually share this AU since it is a bit weird but if y’all like is I might share some of the art I have and some dialogue/writing bits too!      

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 9: Percy Forces Me To Join A Quest

The next morning, Percy moved to cabin three. Luke was the only one I could hang out with from my cabin. He was also the one who took care of my wounds after the thing happened. Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but I got the feeling they were all talking about it behind my back. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that I managed to command a hellhound; and two, I came with the son of Poseidon. They all assume I would be as great as Percy. The other campers steered clear of me as much as possible. Only Luke struck around. Yes, even Percy started ignoring me. I figured it had something to do with water and stuffs. Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with him after what happened in the woods, so he had one-on-one with Luke. I usually sit in to watch them in hopes of Percy talking to me again. But nada. "You're going to need all the training you can get," Luke promised, as they were working with swords and flaming torches. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions." Annabeth still taught Percy and I Greek but on different times I had mine in the mornings. Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill me. I wished she would just yell or punch me or something. I'd rather get into fights every day than be ignored. I stayed with Luke most of my time. We'd gotten close that talking about gods wasn't such a touchy subject. He also told me stuffs about himself, like how he got his scar and small stuffs. I was still in bed in cabin eleven. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that. It was so early that most of the campers were still asleep. "Good morning?" I saw Luke standing near the door. "Eh... good enough I guess." I said sitting on my bed. "It's really boring since I don't do anything." "Not sure if I'm bringing you good news or bad," He smiled taking the seat beside me. "But Mr. D wants to see you." "Really? Will I finally get to do something fun?" "I feel like I should be offended." He gasped dramatically. "Why? Am I not fun?" I laughed, "Pretty much yeah." "Ouch. Anyways, I'd better let him tell you what's up." "Walk with me?" I asked with an UwU face. "I would, but commitment and all that." He joked. "Aight then. I'll get ready, wait for me outside." "I said I won't!" "Geez don't need to be in a hurry. I won't take long." I got dressed and went out to see him with an exaggerated frown. "You better walk fast. I'll leave as soon as you get there." For days, I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that Percy was declared a son of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figured it was a crime for him just to be alive. They're probably suspicious of me now as well with Percy and I's relation. The other gods had probably been debating the best way to punish me for existing, and now Mr. D was ready to deliver their verdict. "So... with Percy being a big three material. What would that make me?" "Well, putting aside the fact that you suck, you drown at every body of water that's at least a foot deep, you don't smell like a half-blood. I'd say you're... one of the big three's. Maybe Zeus's." "Har har. I'm just really worried you know? With Percy getting claimed as Poseidon's... and I came with him. And water just loves me so much. I'd assume I'm somewhere along the lines of Zeus and... Zeus. Is there someone stronger than Zeus?" "Depends on who you asked." "If I asked Zeus he'd definitely answer Zeus." I heard a loud thunder echoed. "Someone's brave." Luke laughed. Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. I asked Luke if we needed an umbrella. "No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to." "So my kiss under the rain fantasy is a no?" "If it has to be here... probably." I pointed at the storm. "What the heck is that, then?" "Bad news. But don't worry, it'll pass by us." I realized he was right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley. But this storm... this one was huge. At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm. When Luke saw the front porch of the Big House. "Whatever they say. Don't choose the option where you'll die." "Half a promise. Depends on the other option." "Well I'll give you an easier promise. Don't die." "Not really easier but okay."

After he ruffled my hair, I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents--two sets of cards hovering in the air. "Y/N!" Grover greeted. "Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity finally got his request." I turned to see Percy who was looking at me and then moved away. I waited for him to greet... "Come closer, both of you," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father." A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house. "Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said. Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. "If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm." "Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in. "Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father." "Mr. D—" Chiron warned. "Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do." Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass. He snapped his fingers. The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind. Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. You too Y/N and Grover." We did. Grover sat between us. Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use. "Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?" "It scared me," I said. "If Y/N hadn't told it to stand down, I'd be dead." I saw Percy turn to my direction, which made me roll my eyes. "You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done." "Done... with what?" "Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?" I glanced at Grover, who was crossing his fingers. "Um, sir," I said, "you haven't told me what it is yet." Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details." Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together. "Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said. "They're fighting over something valuable... something that was stolen, aren't they?". Chiron and Grover exchanged looks. Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?" "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And... I've also been having these dreams." "I knew it," Grover said. "Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered. "But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!" "Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt." I laughed. "A what?" "Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives." "Oh." "Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers." "And it's missing?" "Stolen," Chiron said. "By who?" "By whom," Chiron corrected. Once a teacher, always a teacher. "By you." "At least"—Chiron held up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best', 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it." "But I didn't—" "Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief." "But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!" Chiron and Grover glanced nervously at the sky. The clouds didn't seem to be parting around us, as Luke had promised. They were rolling straight over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid. "Er, Percy...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky." "Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy. Chiron was waiting for an answer. "Something about a golden net?" He answered. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods... they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?" "Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along—the proverbial last straw." "But I'm just a kid!" "Percy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you.... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?" "But I didn't do anything. Poseidon—my dad—he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Percy?" "Bad?" "Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight." "Bad," I repeated. "And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath." It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky. I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of Percy. I was furious. "So he has to find the stupid bolt," I said. "And return it to Zeus." "What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?" "If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" "I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago... well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle." "Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?" "Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge." "Good reason." "You agree then?" He looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly. Easy for him. He wasn't the one Zeus wanted to kill. Percy then turned to me, "All right," he said. "But, I'll go when Y/N comes with." "Woah there! I am not going anywhere." I hissed. You ignore me for days and now you want me to die with you now? "Why do I have to go with you?" "Percy---" "I don't want to leave without her." He looked down. I felt guilty about turning him down. Which was stupid since he's the one at fault. I gave a sigh, I hope Luke won't get mad at me. "It's better than you being turned into a dolphin." I mumbled. "I'll go." "Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more." Before Percy came up he took my arm and pulled me in a hug. "I wanted you there, so we could save our parents together. After this quest, you me your mom and dad and my mom, will stay together." I hugged him back and nodded. "Thank you." Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor. Percy pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place. After he went up. Chiron turned to me. "Hmm? Something to say?" I asked in a hopefully not rude tone. "I've had enough of people staring at me thinking, I summoned that hellhound." "Y/N, I assure you I don't think you'd do that. I am just confused as to why it followed your command." "Did you maybe forget to tell us something? I really can't seem to find out who you are." "Well... I don't think I forgot to mention anything. Maybe the fact that water hates me, I've never been on a plane, and I am low-key kinda scared of the dark depending on the situation." "Water hates you?" Grover asked. "First time swimming, beach, I was 5. I drowned at a supposedly 3 feet deep water. I haven't been near any bodies of water ever since. Until I met Percy, I drowned at the beach again. If I wasn't mistaken I was few meters away from the water and it pulled me and I almost drowned." "It would seem, Poseidon hates you. Why would he?" "My parents must've realized that fish god hates me and didn't take chances on the others." I could tell Chiron wanted to continue but Percy came down, "Well?" Chiron asked. He slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. I could see he wasn't happy. "Are you okay?" I asked him. He looked at me warily and nodded. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen." Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!" "What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important." "She . .. she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned." "I knew it," Grover said... Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?" "No," He said. "That's about it." I took a hold of Percy's hand. And he gave me a look that said, 'I'll tell you later.' "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass." "Okay," I said, anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?" "Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?" "Somebody else who wants to take over?" he guessed. "Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken." I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from under the ground. "Hades." Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility." A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?" "A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades." "Yes, but—but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon... ." "A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest." "Great," Percy muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me." "Hey, I beat you, I got all of them." I smirked. I was trying to lighten up the mood and Percy finally cracked a smile. "But a quest to..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year." "Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth." A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. I wasn't feeling scared of anything right now. I felt like I could face anything. I was ready to take him on. Anyone in a matter of fact. Besides, if my mom and dad might be in the Underworld... which would be unlikely. Who knows maybe I could bribe him and talk him into reviving them. Or what if he's misunderstood? What if there's a plot twist somewhere here, and it actually wasn't Hades's fault? Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips. The poor guy needed to complete a quest with us so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that was. This was suicide. "Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy told Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads." "It might not be him you know." I added. "She's right, suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?" "You're saying I'm being used." "I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you." "Damn, my parent doesn't? I'm going on a deadly quest thanks to Arthur Curry right here. Least they could do is support me and let me know They'll be proud of me saving the world." I huffed. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?" "I had my suspicions. As I said... I've spoken to the Oracle, too." I got the feeling there was a lot he wasn't telling us about his prophecy, but I decided I couldn't worry about that right now. After all, I was holding back information too. "So let me get this straight," I said. "We're supposed go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead." "Check," Chiron said. "Find the most powerful weapon in the universe." "Check." "And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days." "That's about right." Percy and I looked at each other then we looked over at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts. "Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly. "You don't have to go," Percy told him. "I can't ask that of you. "Oh..." He shifted his hooves. "No... it's just that satyrs and underground places... well..." He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You saved my life, Percy. Both of you did. If... if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down." I felt so relieved I wanted to cry, though I didn't think that would be very heroic. I wasn't sure what good a satyr could do against the forces of the dead, but I felt better knowing he'd be with us. "All the way, G-man." Percy turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west." "The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America." "Where?" Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles." "Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane—" "No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?" I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash. "We're not allowed to fly because Zeus is a stuck up who doesn't want others touching his stuff without permission." "Y/N!" Grover panicked when loud thunder echoed above us. I wanted to yell, 'Oh shut up thunder boy.' But I still wanted try fulfilling my promise to Luke with all I can. "Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive." Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed. "Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, I'll travel overland." "That's right," Chiron said. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other is Y/N. But someone else has already volunteered, if you will accept her help." "Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?" The air shimmered behind Chiron. Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket. "I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up." "I'll gladly give you my spot and all but... Percy and I are a duo." I lifted my fist which he bumped. "But she's right, we can't leave the world at the hands of two idiots and a scaredy-cat." "Can't we have four people on a quest?" "You can also pick more than two people to join, but this is considered dangerous as three is a sacred number. Any more than three on a quest could result in a catastrophe, including a member of the quest going missing, dying, or the quest failing." "Willing to risk it Peabody?" She gave me a glare. No. I assure you no one shall be lost in this quest. They were all looking at me weirdly. "What did you say?" "I asked if you were willing to risk it...?" I was confused. "Y/N you're doing it again." "Doing what? I am literally not doing anything wrong. Wanna fite me? I will back out of this quest." I gave an exaggerated glare. Annabeth turned to Chiron, who was looking down on me. "I suppose... if Percy is willing to risk it and all parties approve. I could allow this as a four person quest." "Well, I call not it to the dying person." I raised my hand. "But you can come Peabody. We need a not so stupid guy." "Well, if she say yes..." "I-I... don't really..." "I want to come." "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?" Her cheeks colored. "Do you want my help or not?" "A quartet," I said. "Hopefully it works." "Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own." Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather. "No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing." I took Percy's hand and gave him a look to remind him about his quest. "I'll tell you later."

Previous | Masterlist | Next

UwU Haha I'm better now :) I am sorry for being on haitus And for some parts that I might've forgotten to erase UwU -kookie-doughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Bachelor

A birthday gift for @bellafarallones. Part 3 of the TAZ Amnesty Bachelor AU (sternclay and indruck were the first two) AKA what Vincent was up to. Apollo is from my Amnesty Super Hero fic

The entire United States to choose from and this is the best the producers could find? He’s going to win this thing with his eyes closed. Then it’s a hop, skip, and jump to some endorsement deals, his own spin-off, and then a prime time hosting slot. 

Oh, and a marriage. But that should be easy; any guy would count themselves lucky to have him.

God, that pool will be great for Instagram shots. Luckily the producers knew their biggest draw when they saw him and agreed to let Indrid continue his work as Apollo’s personal photographer and assistant. He may be a disappointment to the Cold name, but he’s good with a camera and has no interest in being recorded for the show. And if, god forbid, Apollo comes down with a cold during filming, someone will be there to bring him Day-Quil. After all, if he lets anyone see Apollo in a vulnerable state, Apollo will just have to send their father an email about Indrid’s latest failure. 

“It’s times like this we should be grateful for our genes. I know I am.” He glances at his twin, pausing his gaze on his silver hair and tattoos.

“You dye yours too. And I think there are more than a few handsome men here, so don’t get cocky.” His attention shifts for a moment as a man dressed like Smokey the Bear passes them.

“Oh come on, even with those pretentious glasses you can see I’m a cut above.”

“If you say so. And if you want to do shots of you in your suit, we need to start soon, so kindly find your room so we can get on with it.”

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

Not only is this easy, it’s fun. The cameras love him, and most of his fellow contestants yield to him after one remark. He’s been watching Vincent, the bachelor for this season, closely during group interactions, and it’s clear he’s already developing favorites. Annoyingly, two in particular--Joseph and Duck--are more inclined to push back at him. But it doesn’t matter; everyone has weaknesses. He’ll find theirs soon. 

Tonight is his first formal date with Vincent. They’re at an Italian place with good lighting, and Vincent is perfectly nice to look at in his lavender dress shirt and silver tie. Apollo’s done his research; Vincent is ten years his senior, took an early retirement from a position in the department of defense and now runs two consulting businesses; one for banks and museums and one for domestic violence shelters, health clinics, and other places where doing good draws enemies. The first business subsidizes the second. Vincent enjoys tennis and running, has no Instagram presence, and is an only child. 

Apollo has his plan of attack; the trouble is, Vincent isn’t interested in sitting there and being flattered (though he does blush when Apollo says the tie makes the grey in his hair look all the more distinguished). He wants to know about Apollo. 

“When you’re not taking photos, what do you like to do?”

He doesn’t correct him about who takes the pictures, smiles, “I, ah, I go to the gym.”

“I have to say it shows.” Vincent winks. It’s so corny, but Apollo can’t find it in him to hate it, “any sports, or just things like weights and cardio?”

‘

“No, but I played football in high school. I was star running back.”

“I played my freshman year, but baseball suited me better. So when you're not ‘pumping iron’, what do you do for fun?”

There is no answer that won’t make him look too shallow or too...no, he can’t even think about that option. Damn it, he must have a normal hobby. He hedges with the truth and hopes the editors cut it for time. 

“I like movies. I, ah, I’ve been working my way through the Criterion Collection of the birth of cinema  and it’s fascinating. Did you know there was a silent film heartthrob who predates Valentino?”

“Sessue Hayakawa?” 

“You know about him?” He leans forward.

“I read a biography of him last year that was riveting. I still have it if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yes, yes absolutely. We, we could even watch some of his films together, and the ones they inspired, you know they, they…” 

Fuck, he’s acting like Indrid, bumping the table and yammering about things that will get him nowhere. He sits back, grabs his wine and sips to cover his error. 

“I’d like that.” Is all Vincent says as they’re entrees arrive. 

“Enough about me. I was reading about your business and, ah, well, how do you even do something like that?”

Vincent describes his process, how he picks clients and what he considers when evaluating a space. Apollo fully intends to zone out with a smile. 

He hangs on every word. All too soon, Vincent is asking for dessert. 

“Is your meal okay?”

Apollo looks at the plate of spaghetti carbonara he’s been poking at, not wanting to be caught in an ugly expression while eating, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Dessert arrives in the shape of a chocolate lava cake with sparklers, a detail which delights Vincent. It’s such a ridiculous thing to smile over. Apollo smiles back, and let’s his date feed him a bite of cake. 

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

Was the beach trip self-serving on Vincent’s part? Indeed. Has it also given him valuable intel? Yes, yes it has.

He now knows who’s going home next; Nico is such a fraternity-bred asshole that he should have sent him packing weeks ago. Honestly, all his comments about Barclay this morning were awful. Barclay is masculine and sweet in a way Vincent adores. He even helped Joseph during the cliff dive, which bumps him even higher in Vincent’s eyes. 

Joseph stealthily knocking Nico’s hat from his head with a frisbee was also a high point; goodness, Joseph reminds him of men he used to work with who he never, ever, admitted his feelings for (they were often his subordinates, and he prided himself on keeping a safe department). 

Then there’s Duck. Vincent would like an award for not spending the morning asking to rub sunblock on those arms. He’s been treated to a closer view of them the last half-hour, Duck sitting next to him in a Hawaiin shirt that shows off his biceps. The ranger just now excused himself (“gotta give the other fellas a chance to impress”) to go keep Indrid company during dinner. Polite and friendly to the core, that’s his favorite bear. 

And then there’s-

“Hiiii Vincent.” Apollo slides into the spot closest to him on the restaurant deck. 

Were Vincent choosing for an evening, Apollo would edge out even Duck. He suspects getting the younger man under some comfortable sheets to praise and fuss over him would be very nice indeed. Apollo may posture and insist to the others that he’s the dominant one in the bedroom, but this isn’t Vincent’s first go around; he knows someone who longs to be spoiled and submissive when he sees one.

But he’s here to choose his husband, not a hook-up. 

He initially assumed he’d send Apollo home after their first formal date. He knows these shows sometimes attract people who want their fifteen minutes of fame, and Apollo is one of them. But then his meticulously built image cracked, just a little, as they talked, and Vincent is so taken by what he saw that he can’t bring himself to send him home yet.

The older man slides the younger one an oyster, “try one, they’re local.”

There’s no appealing way to eat an oyster on camera, but Apollo lifts a shell and downs one. He does an excellent job masking his grimace.

“Another? Or would you like one of the grilled scallops instead?”

He watches him run a calculus. Then he slides his sunglasses down, “Scallop, please.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

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

“Indrid, Vincent hates me!”

Indrid blinks at him.

“One of the other contestants got them to show him a bunch of footage of me putting the other men in their place and now he hates me.” Genuine panic rises in his chest as Indrid gives him absolutely no expression to work from. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him, tell him that I’m not-”

“What you actually are? Vincent is here to choose a spouse; he has a right to not choose you.”

“Fix. It.” Apollo snarls.

His twin stands, regarding him from across the rug, “I will speak to Vincent, on one condition; you do not go after Duck ever again.”

“Traitor, you should be on my side, not his.”

Indrid shrugs, sits back down and picks up his book. 

“I’ll, I’ll tell father you’re sabotaging me.”

“You think he’ll like to hear you’re being out done by his inferior son?”

“....Damn it. Fine, fine. I’ll leave Newton alone. Now go.”

His brother has the audacity to grin at him, “I will, right after I finish this chapter.”

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

He’s sitting with Duck and Joseph, asking their opinion, when Indrid enters the living room.

“Did Apollo send you?” Vincent picks lint from his cardigan. 

“Yes. He’s asking me to intercede on his behalf since he thinks you hate him.”

“Oh dear, I don’t hate him. I just said I was disappointed in him.”

“Ah” Indrid perches on the arm of Duck’s chair, “That’s our father’s code for ‘I hate you.”

“Jesus.” Duck mutters.

“I suspected he was exaggerating. That’s why I agreed to talk to you; I’ve learned it’s best to verify anything  he tells me. In truth, I can’t do much for him.  If it’s not obvious, he takes after our father and our father is...not a good man. We each survive him in our own way; Apollo chose to mold himself into what he demanded we be. That does not excuse him. But perhaps it puts him into perspective.”

Vincent knows he’s not sending Apollo home this week; it’s still Nico’s turn. And his heart that taps his chest to ask, “Do you think he could change?”

Indrid says nothing. Duck is keeping his mouth shut, but his frown suggests his answer.

“This is not to defend him but” Joseph looks at Indrid, “you grew up under the same conditions and chose not to replicate them. That suggests it’s possible.”

“I just didn’t want to end up like him.” Indrid murmurs.

“And ‘possible’ don’t mean probable.” Duck adds.

Vincent rubs his temples, “You’re right. All of you. I...I think I need some time to decide how many chances to be the person I think he can be I ought to give him.”

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

Apollo isn’t sure what to expect. The last time Vincent asked to see him, it was to scold him. Three guys have gone home since then, and he’s been fighting back his impulses to torment and gloat, focusing instead on  making Vincent like him instead of undermining the competition. 

The door opens on a room with a bed, lots of candles, and…

“Is that whale song?”

“Yes. I picked a ‘soothing’ playlist to fit the mood.” Vincent is in linen pants and a button up short sleeve, pats the bed with a smile, “I thought a nice massage might do you good. Non-sexual, of course” he tips his head at the camera.

Apollo isn’t shy. His thirst traps are legendary. But he lays on his stomach the instant he’s down to his underwear. Vincent hums as he starts on his shoulders, checking in now and then about pressure. It would be nice if Apollo’s skin weren’t starving for gentle touches. He keeps letting out pathetic sounds, almost like chirps, as Vincent rubs him down. 

Then the worst thing happens; he gets hard. At first he tries just keeping his hips still but no, just Vincent’s touch is enough. So he tenses in hopes of not giving it away.

“Is it too hard?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The hands leave his skin and he whines like a kicked dog. 

“Would you gentlemen let us do the rest in private? I’m sure the viewers get the point.”

There’s shuffling feet and shutting doors, and then a gentle hand rolling him onto his back.

“Apollo, what’s really--oh. That explains it.” 

He scrambles to sit up, tucking his knees to his chest, “I’m sorry, you said you didn’t want it to be sexual, I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear-”

The bed squeaks along with him as Vincent sits, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to get angry with you for this. If, um, if it helps to know, the feeling is very much mutual.”

It should feel like a triumph, but his cheeks burn and he hides his face against his knees. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No! No, not at all. I wouldn’t be wooing you on T.V if I didn’t think you were attractive. Blech, I sound like one of Indrid’s romance novels. Not, not that there’s anything wrong with Indrid...liking...silly things.”

Vincent cups his face and he leans into it, wants to glue his cheek there, “Apollo, I’ve noticed you’re trying to be less...unkind since our little talk.”

“I’m trying. It’s just so very, very hard.”

“I’ve also noticed you’re letting your persona go now and then. That means a lot to me. I’m not interested in the man you think you should be; I’m interested in the man you might become, the man you are when you stop trying to be better than everyone. I like that man, I’d like to get to know him more.”

Apollo shivers as Vincent kisses his forehead, “I’ll do my best.”

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

“The nerve of Joseph to say things like that to me!”

Indrid doesn’t look up, “It’s a genuine concern; Vincent is older, there will likely come a time when you’ll be the one caring for him. Are you certain you’ll have the patience for that? Be willing to put your needs and wants on hold for the sake of someone else?”

That’s really what would happen? He, he could do it for Vincent, he’s certain. But could he? What if it’s hard, without glory or gain, does that make it foolish?

He chases those thoughts in dizzying circles for fifteen minutes until they crash into the solution.

“I solved it! I don't have to worry about taking care of Vincent as he ages because he'll divorce me once I reach thirty-two.”

“That is the bleakest possible conclusion.” Indrid flips his sketchbook closed. 

“Just let me have this!”

“I hate that I even have to say this but Vincent is not our father.”

“Father said he was doing what any sensible man would do.”

Indrid levels him with an unusually firm stare, “Do you not want Vincent just because he’s over thirty-two?”

“Of course not! He’s great! I, brother for goodness sake just tell me how to care for him.”

“I literally cannot do that. You have to figure it out for yourself what care looks like for you.”

He’s about to repeat his demand when his phone rings. 

“Hi, Vincent.”

“I'm so sorry, but I have to break our date tonight. I was out for a run and twisted my ankle. I just got back from the doctor; he says I sprained it, so I might be on bed rest a few days.”

Perfect. 

“Oh no, I’m glad it’s not too serious. Would, ah, would it be alright if I came to see you?”

They agree on a time. Then he remembers the problem that preceded the phone call.

“What do I do?”

“What do you want to do for him? Or, if your positions were reversed, him to do for you?” Indrid asks flatly. 

“Call you so he doesn’t see me looking frail.”

“assume I am dead and thus no longer dealing with your nonsense”

“That’s not fair.”

Indrid flops on the bed, “I'm dead, Vincent is the only one who is coming to take care of you, what do you want him to do?”

“Tell me it’s okay and spend time with me and…”

Indrid grins, “And?”

“And watch PBS in bed.”

“It’s a start. Now please get out of my room.”

An hour later he pokes his head into Vincent’s bedroom; the older man is reclining, reading a John Grisham paperback in a robe that makes him look very suave

“How are you feeling?” He sits next to him, rubs his knee. .

 “Oh, I'm fine, just feel a little silly. It used to be I could twist an ankle and come up fine. Aging is quite the adventure.”

“I, um, I'm glad it wasn't too bad. I, I don't like the thought of you getting hurt. Bot that you'd be bad if you did! I accept that we are all very fragile beings trying not to die.

(Too dark, Cold,  pull it back).

“I mean, um, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'd be happy to have you stay awhile.” Vincent takes his hand, let’s him lean on his shoulder as they talk. They’re midway through a discussion of famous film disasters when a small burst of black and red lands on the windowsill. He doesn’t catch his excitement in time and Vincent asks him what made him perk up. 

With a courage he did not know he possessed, he points to the bird.

“Oh! How beautiful. What kind is it?”

“Scarlet Tanager” he mumbles, “they’re not common here.”

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

He nods. 

“There are some feeders just on that balcony. And I think the binoculars a friend gave me last Christmas are still in the closet, if you’d like to use them.”

“I would” he stands, heart bubbling with terrifying warmth, “thank you, da--ah, dear.”

Mischief sweeps across Vincent’s face, “Is this where you tell me you’ve had lots of older boyfriends?”

“No. I, ah, I’ve made out some but I never dated.”

“Not even a highschool sweetheart?”

“My father made it so no teenager wanted to go near our house. Or us.” The binoculars are magnificent, the best money can buy, “I always wished I had a date to homecoming. It looked so fun, asking someone or getting asked and then having matching outfits and going out to dinner and taking pictures together. I even picked out an outfit just in case someone asked.  I think Indrid snuck out to meet his burnout--, um, meet his friends. I just sat in my room.”

“You could have asked someone yourself, couldn’t you?” Vincent makes room for him on the bed once more. 

 “And risk getting rejected in front of the whole school? No thank you.” He stares at the binoculars, afraid of what he might see if he turns, “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this. I’m supposed to be here taking care of you.”

Vincent opens his arms, pulling Apollo into a hug, “You know care can go two ways at once, right?”

“Not really” he mumbles into silver silk.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek, hands running soothingly up his sides, and those weak, silly noises slipping from his mouth. 

“I want it to be, I’ll be so good, I’ll take care of you, just please...please say you’d do the same?”

“Of course. That’s what love is.”

He tucks his face against Vincent’s neck, “Will you make fun of me if I say I’m frightened?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know how to do so much of this. I don’t know how much of me can change.”

“Are you willing to try?” Vincent kisses the shell of his ear.

“For you? Yes.”

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

“I choose…” Vincent looks between Apollo and Jonathan. Apollo cannot wait to spring into his arms. 

“I choose neither.”

“What!” Ned yells off camera.

“I’m sorry to both of you but I simply can’t. Jonathan, you’re a very nice man, but our connection is ultimately lacking. Apollo” Vincent meets his eyes and he forces his gaze to stay placid, “I care for you more than words can say. I know you’ve worked so very hard to change. I also know that people can easily revert to their old, cruel ways under pressure or difficulty. Marriage often involves those things, and I’m not sure you can be the man I need you to be. With those misgivings,  it wouldn’t be fair to propose to either of you. I hope you understand.”

They both say the do, shake hands, give hugs. And he does, he truly does understand. He understands that Vincent made the choice he had to, that even though he got better he is still a rotten, cruel creature who doesn’t deserve him. He was taught he deserved the world; some good that did him. It lost him the only person who might make the world a less miserable place. 

“Apollo!” Vincent jogs after him, catches up to him in an empty hall, “Apollo I-”

His heart is breaking; his old ways twine like vipers around it, “I, I’m glad you didn’t choose me you, you boring, pathetic man. No wonder you have to pay people to go on dates with you! I don’t need anyone, least of all you!”

Vincent steps back, face falling as Apollo storms off. The last thing he hears is, “And here I thought I made the wrong choice.”

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

He deletes his Instagram. Gets a job as a personal shopper. Goes to therapy because he will not let Indrid outshine him when it comes to unlearning how they were raised. 

It helps. Three months after the disastrous finale (for him, not for the network) he’s feeling, if not better, like he might actually try dating someone soon. He also writes two apology letters; one to Indrid and one to Vincent. Then he tears them both up and just tells Indrid that he’s trying to be less of an asshole and that he’s sorry for all the time he was one. He leaves Vincent alone; if he doesn’t want to see him, the least he can do is respect that.

It’s migration season, so he’s hiding in his favorite, super-secret birdwatching spot. It’s near a pond, so lots of birds come to drink and bathe, and he’s seen several on his list. 

Branches crack, sending nearby jays into a flap. Damn it, he’s never seen someone else here; the only person he ever told about it was-

“Hi, Apollo.”

“Vincent!” He almost falls off his stump, “how, why?”

“I’d been meaning to explore this spot ever since you spoke about it. But I, um, was also hoping I might see you in the process. Pathetic, as you might say.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Apollo stares up at him, clutching his binoculars so hard they might become disparate spyglasses, “Vincent, I am so, so, so very sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. I was hurt, all I want is to make someone else hurt more so I stop feeling so vulnerable and powerless. I, I’ve been working on it in, in” he winces “therapy. You said once that you wanted to meet the man I might be. I realized I wanted to meet him to, to be him, not to win some show or even to get you to like me but just because I don’t want to be the other Apollo anymore.”

Vincent sits next to him, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I, I just want to un-fuck what I can. I, how have you been?”

“Doing lots of thinking. I still know I made the right call not proposing during the finale. And that I’m ready to start dating again.”

“I hope whoever you go out with knows how lucky they are.” He says without any motive but the truth.

Vincent plucks a late-blooming wildflower and offers it to him, “It’s not a rose, but then again, this isn’t a proposal. It’s just a date, if you still want one.”

“So badly.” 

The older man leans in, kissing him softly as his spine turns to soup, “I’m looking forward to meeting the, um, latest version of you.” He snickers at his own phrasing.

Apollo pulls him into a second kiss, “Me too.”