#yeah as i said. the albatross on my back

[petitesmafia]

hc the Flags are obviously very close and love each other a lot but Albatross is particularly vocal about his affection...one of his habits is saying “love u bro!” (note: he always looks expectantly at Chuuya and Iceman to say it back. they pretend they don’t notice.)

Albatross: ‘kay I’m heading out! see u in a few days! love u my bro Chuuya: yeah safe travels Albatross, stopping at the door: I said LOVE U BRO Chuuya: yeah I heard. stay safe Albatross: SAY IT BACK Chuuya, flustered: GET GOING

Albatross: gotta dash— let’s meet tonight. love u guys Pianoman, Lippmann, Doc: love u too Chuuya: see ya Iceman: be careful Albatross: Chuuya & Iceman: Albatross, mimicking Chuuya’s voice: love u too bro~ Albatross, switching back to his own voice: ahhh thanks! bye!!! Chuuya:

[jackiepackiee]

Hello, I hope you're having a splendid day!

If your requests are open may I ask for the flags x single parent reader romantic headcanons? I've seen the other one with the mad scientist and I just found it so amazing!

But of course, only if you are comfortable, I don't want to pressure you.

I shall say my good byes now as I have to leave.

Take care of yourself and rest.

Goodbye.

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓼 𝔁 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Warnings- parent struggles

Type - headcanons

Of course I added Chuuya.

Albatross -

Did someone say the fun dad?

He admires how responsible you are

Quite literally watches in awe at anything you do

Making a snack? Wow. Hushing your kid from crying? He’s shocked by your skill

Your kid likes cars? He will have an entire lot for them.

Trains? Look, now the port mafia has a and it’s trained named after your kid

Almost like a brother, sorry

He’s immature and has never been around kids

So so gentle however

He’s not dumb, just eccentric after all

You’ll definitely walk in on him covered in paint by your kid, laughing and letting it happen

Tea parties? Tea parties.

7/10, congrats, you have a second kid

Pianoman -

Thinks the absolute highest of you

Will never pry on what happened to the biological parent

But if they hurt you? He’s pulling piano strings

The kid is babied, no matter the age

He’s a leader, and a protecter

The port mafia doesn’t even know you have one

He likes a quiet personal life

No nanny’s, he will clear his schedule if needed

It’s his kid now, and he’s ready to try his best

Smart man, makes sure to let you get plenty of rest

Knows it must’ve been hard being alone

So he wants you to recover from however long you missed the rest you’ve needed

You kid wants a new toy? He will counterfeit money and buy hundreds

9/10, a great dad

Lippmann -

Why the hell is your kid suddenly speaking other languages?

It’s Lippmann. He’s too smart and will make sure to compliment you in French, or Spanish, or German

Your kid becomes so well mannered

“Look, daddy is on TV!”

It’s always fun to have a movie night and watch his newest film

Your kid is an actor now, yeah

Expect many private shows staring your lover and your child

His favorite? Princess/prince with him as the knight

Such an incredible comforter to both you and your child

You’re stressed? He’ll make sure you’re okay while also dealing with whatever’s freaking you out

10/10, just perfect

Iceman -

So goddamn gentle

Your heart will melt, watch out

He’s soft spoken and it must be magic at how well he can console your kids whines

You may know of his work, but only what he does

Not the victims, days, times, anything

But you kid? Doesn’t know a single thing

“My daddy is a superhero”

Yeah, depends on who you ask

He is technically killing bad guys (bad guys to the pm that is)

When you lay down your kid he’ll pull you to the kitchen and play a record

Slow dancing and lifting you up with immense ease

9/10, you may have death of a overheated heart

Doc -

…kinda awkward

He is good with kids, of course

All his years in med school? He had to have seen some children

He’s shy with you, but not shocked you have a kid

Will never judge you, not for a second

Makes sure your body has healed correctly

Back pains from pregnancy (if you are the mom)? You don’t know how but he will heal it

Your kid is like a walking dictionary, muttering words that would only make sense to a surgeon

For a doctor, it’s ironic how much he offers candy to them

“Be good and you’ll get a lollipop from daddy.”

7/10, your kid is always healthy, but he’s a bit childish too

Chuuya -

if you’re a teen parent he won’t care

Supports you and your child with his new pm check

Remember that one wan episode when he said that he would spoil a puppy if he had one?

That’s how he is with your kid and you

You want to take the kid to a new amusement park but the lines are too long for the kid to wait?

He will rent the entire thing, boy has connections

A lot of the sheep were young, so he is good with kids

Won’t be great as a role model, but an amazing protector

Nothing will ever hurt you or the child

If you want, he will definitely let you move in

Warning, the house will be filled with toys that the two of you won’t know what to do with

Overall 7/10 his heart is in the right place but he’s so young

[phykios]

Kiss Me Where You Bruise Me Percy Jackson is fated to die on his twenty-first birthday, after a lifetime of battling monsters. Annabeth Chase is doing her hardest not to get attached, but towards the end of the war, emotions are running high, and she can only resist her feelings--and his kiss--for so long. (Aged up/stretchy canon au of PJO, rated E for smut) read on ao3

Annabeth could sense the dark mood which smothered the camp even from all the way inside the attic of the Big House. With an angry huff, she slammed her heavy book shut, a cloud of dust bursting from the pages, before sliding it back on the shelf. Wasn’t like she was going to get any work done now, anyway. 

Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed as soon as she came down the ladder, and was nearly bowled over by Will Solace as he half-dragged, half-carried Charlie Beckendorf to the infirmary. “Sorry,” she said, scooching back against the wall. “Rough quest?” 

Beckendorf, to his credit, flashed a smile at her. “Nah,” he croaked, “walk in the park.” 

Beneath his hand, which was pressed to his side, a red stain slowly grew on the orange fabric. She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s better than it looks,” Beckendorf protested as Will forced him down onto an infirmary bed. “Honest!” 

Will snorted. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.” 

“You just did.” 

“Tell me what happened,” Annabeth said, pointedly. She did not have time for banter.

Beckendorf hissed as Will pulled his shirt back, revealing three long, thin, wet stripes. “Remember how we said it was supposed to be a recon mission?” 

Oh for gods’ sake–“What did he do this time?” 

“In his defense, this time it was my fault.” 

She stared at him.

“Honest!” 

“I’m sure.” 

“It actually was my fault this time–I accidentally tripped a wire, and then our recon turned into a–”

“A shit-show?” 

He swallowed his gasp as Will pressed on the claw marks on his body. “Something like that.” 

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “And let me guess. Instead of retreating, and salvaging the recon as much as he could, Percy decided that the best course of action would be to try and wipe the camp out, so the enemy wouldn’t know their location had been compromised.” 

“...Well, yeah.” 

“And did he?” 

“Of course.” 

“All of them this time?” 

His silence spoke volumes. 

She sighed again, headache already beginning to manifest. “And where is he now?” 

“Where do you think?” 

“You,” said Will, gently shoving Annabeth towards the door, “out. This could get messy.” 

Annabeth had a strong stomach, but Beckendorf was turning green, and since Will hadn’t asked for support, it was probably something he could handle on his own. In any case, she did not want to be in the line of fire if something went sideways. 

Besides, she had a son of Poseidon to find. 

Not that he was hard to find. He was exactly where he always was. 

The arena was empty, save him. That was not in and of itself surprising. General swordsmanship class had been indefinitely suspended as of last summer, so the kids had to get in their practice whenever they could, with whomever was around. And most of the camp was too smart to go toe-to-toe with their best fighter whenever he got into one of his moods. Even his flock of obsessive, simpering groupies were missing, instead of peeking around the corner to watch him as he worked, giggling between their fingers, putting the collective gossip machine of Ten to shame.

She heard him before she saw him, the smack of metal on straw punctuated with a grunt, or a growl. He looked as if he hadn’t even showered or changed after returning to camp, just dumped Beck at the infirmary and made a beeline for the arena, armor and all. Typical. Gone was the sweet, if sarcastic boy who had welcomed her to camp, and in his place was a scowling, broody, capital-W-warrior. 

Recently, he had really begun to lean into something of a role here at camp–the prophecy child, the son of Poseidon. He walked around with an albatross so heavy around his neck, you could almost see the slump in his shoulders. He sat with his back turned to the rest of the camp at mealtimes, picking at his food, often leaving with a huff halfway through. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him at a sing-along, or a capture-the-flag game, or even just hanging around the camp, playing basketball and shooting the shit. 

No, he had chosen to devote himself entirely to the war effort. Which, fine, whatever, it wasn’t like they couldn’t use it. She wanted to do the same thing, but she had siblings to look after. But he practically lived in the arena, training constantly. The piles of laundry and trash never moved, always the same shape and size from week to week–some of the other counselors were beginning to think that he slept there, too. 

While the demigod in question was engrossed with mutilating the straw dummy like it had insulted his mother, Annabeth chose to take a seat on the bleachers instead, and wait until he had tired himself out enough for him to take a break. She had made the mistake of interrupting him during a set before, and would like to walk away from this without his sword in her face. 

The minutes stretched on, and he kept slashing. She was sure that he had registered her presence at some point. But he kept on fighting. 

Annabeth sighed, resting her head on her knees. 

Even after all this time, after all the quests they had done together, he could still confuse the living crap out of her. 

Percy Jackson. The strongest demigod of his age. And he knew it. Which was half the problem. 

He had been at camp longer than anyone else here. Annabeth, who had arrived at fourteen, escorted by a satyr who had picked her up in Richmond, had been as awed as anyone when she first heard about him. And who wouldn’t be? He had gutted the Minotaur with its own horn at age ten. He had bested Luke Castellan in swordsmanship at twelve. Annabeth hadn’t been there when he and Thalia had been placed on opposite capture-the-flag teams, but she’d heard about it afterwards–and had seen the overturned trees around the flooded creek. 

Despite the rumors, their first meeting had been thoroughly unimpressive. After all the talk of his talent and his prowess and his preference for being alone, she had clocked him, not entirely incorrectly, as mostly bark and very little bite, using his power and his sarcasm to keep people at bay. But she was able to match him snark for snark, and in no time at all, they were fast friends, a bond only made stronger by the life-threatening quests they had undertaken together. 

She’d seen him at his best–training with the pegasi, commanding a great war ship through a dangerous sea, holding aloft a blue flag after successfully executing her flawless capture-the-flag plan. And she’d seen him at his worst–shivering after holding the sky, squeaking incessantly as a guinea pig, tied to Procrustes’ mattress. He’d faced more monsters than anyone else at camp. Probably more than any other demigod in a long, long time. And it had made him… well, not pig-headed, not really. Percy was, at his core, too humble to be truly arrogant. 

But something had definitely changed over the last few years. He had become sullen, withdrawn, quicker to anger. Then one night, he would show up at the campfire, and it would be like nothing had changed. Like the sweet kid had become a kind leader, offering encouragement to his peers and comfort to the younger ones. And then the next morning, he would saunter out of his cabin, hair a mess, a glazed, satisfied look in his eyes, and all of Cabin Ten would be abuzz, trying to piece together what had happened. 

Then by lunch, he’d be in a bad mood once again. And on and on and on. 

Twenty years old and a living legend, with the weight of the cosmos on your shoulders. Annabeth could sympathize. But she couldn’t even imagine.

How could he walk around with that weight all the time? 

A hoarse yell and a clang snapped her out of her thoughts, and she lifted her head to a familiar scene.

Percy stood, fists clenched, shoulders tight, over what was left of the dummy, now sliced and diced into stringy bits, no more useful than a pile of pegasus hay. His sword–not his precious Riptide, oh no, just one of their few good training weapons left–was on the other side of the arena, its blade bent nearly at a forty-five degree angle. Annabeth stood up, hands on her hips. “Hey! Seaweed brain!”

He turned to face her. She could see the arrogant arch of his brow from across the room.

“Easy on the equipment!” She stomped down the steps, resisting the urge to shoulder check him as she went to get the sword. “We only have so many of these.” 

Percy shrugged. “And how is that my problem?” 

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this.” She picked up the weapon, examining the bent blade. Oof. That was ugly. “Not damaging the weapons is rule number two.” 

He only shrugged again, turning away to kick the remains of the dummy into something of a pile. Annabeth felt her eye twitch. “Again, how is that my problem? Just get someone from Nine to deal with it.” 

“And who do you think is going to fix this?” She asked, brandishing it at his back. “Jake? He’s busy with the warship? Nyssa? Supply run. And now Beck’s not in any kind of shape to do anything–”

Whirling around, he bared his teeth at her. “Don’t,” he hissed, “bring him up.” 

“Oh, I’m gonna.” Gripping the leather so hard it hurt, she stepped toward him. “Easy in and out,  you said. No fights. No attention. Just stealth. And now, I’ve got Beckendorf in the infirmary, just barely keeping his guts from falling out.” 

“I got us out of there,” he said, “and I took care of the monsters. That’s all that matters.” 

“That’s all that matters?” She was aware, distantly, that she was only a few steps away from yelling at him. Already. They’d barely started talking. Something about him just drove her fucking crazy. “Are you serious?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, General Chase,” he mocked, rolling his eyes at her. “I’ll just do all my missions solo from now on. No more dead weight.” 

Anger rose from her stomach, hot and ugly. “Is that a joke?” she repeated. “Those are our friends that are getting hurt trying to keep you from doing something stupid!”

His jaw rounded out, stubborn. “I didn’t ask for him to do that. I don’t need your help.”

“We’re fighting a war, Percy,” she said. “We have to help each other. That’s what it means to be on the same team.”

“I don’t care about your stupid team.”

“That’s why you’re in here, breaking our last good weapons? Because you don’t care?” 

“Look,” he nearly spat, drawing himself up to his full height, looking down at her. “I have one job –to be the hero of the prophecy. To defeat Kronos. Everything else–that’s your business, not mine.” 

And then he turned. To walk away. From her. 

He didn’t get more than ten steps before Annabeth had hurled the sword at him. It bounced off his armor, harmlessly, but it got his attention. 

“Hey! You could have–”

“Hurt you?” She marched up to him, poking him in the chest with her finger. It had about as much effect as the sword. “How? You’re the big hero, after all. You’re untouchable!” And then she shoved him. 

He stumbled back, tripping over his foot before righting himself. “I’m not–”

“Not what? Not the hero?” She shoved him again, but he was ready this time. “That’s funny. You’ve only been preparing for it your entire life, right? That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?” 

“Annabeth–” 

“Every quest, every monster, every fight, they’ve all been so you can have your precious glory,” she snarled. “You and your destiny! Doesn’t matter how many of us get hurt in the process, does it, as long as you get to be remembered–”

“That’s not fair–” He started, face coloring with indignation. 

But she wouldn't hear it. Sick of his face and his attitude and his destiny, she moved to shove him one more time–and he grabbed her wrist. 

“Don’t,” he warned, voice as hard as a crashing wave, “do that again.” 

His gaze bored down on her, and she stood as firmly as stone against it. She could feel his heartbeat through the press of his fingers on her wrist. 

“Or what?” she asked. “Next time it’ll be me instead of Beckendorf?” 

His eyes widened, then narrowed, and with a snarl, he released her arm, uncapping his sword in one smooth, clean move. 

This, Annabeth understood. She and Percy weren’t always on the same page, but this? She could work with this. 

In response, she drew her knife. 

Percy didn’t even wait before launching himself at her. 

His opening salvo had all the force of a tsunami crashing to shore, and if Annabeth had been any slower, it would have slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. She side-stepped it easily, following it up with a quick jab to his center. He dodged it, of course. They had sparred with each other too often to not recognize the other’s signature moves. 

Usually, when he got like this, it took someone on his level to knock some sense back into him. Thalia was best at it, but wasn’t around enough to be reliable. Nico worked in a pinch, though there was enough bad blood between them that parts of camp tended to get leveled by the end of it. If it was an emergency, Clarisse could step in and hold him off for long enough until he tired himself out. 

But no one else was here. It was just Annabeth. 

Fortunately for her, she’d had almost her whole life to study Percy Jackson. 

He lunged, and in a move that Luke Castellan had taught them both, she feinted out of the way at the last second, before diving in towards him behind the reach of his blade, where she grabbed his arm, and flipped him over her shoulder. He landed with a satisfying thud, the breath knocked out of him.

There. “Now, are you going to–” 

He swiped wildly at her feet, and she jumped back. 

Swifter than she thought he could be, he scrambled to his feet. He advanced on her, bringing his sword down in an overhead arc, which she handily blocked. “Please,” she scoffed, light on her feet as she shifted to his side. “I know how you fight. I know you.” 

Eyes narrowed, he twisted, bringing his sword down towards her leg, where her blade was already waiting. Block, block, block, each ringing clang of their weapons sounded in a rhythm Cabin Seven would be proud of as Annabeth fended them all off. Because she did know him. He might drive her crazy, he might hiss and growl and glare, but they had fought alongside each other too long to not know each other, down to their cores. 

Of course, that meant that he knew her, too. And he knew very well that her fatal flaw was pride. 

So sure of herself, she hadn’t noticed that he had steadily closed the distance between them. With a flash of bared teeth, right in her face, he caught her wrist in his left hand, pinning her in place. “You don’t know a thing about me,” he hissed. 

In the dim light of the arena, his already sharp features sharpened even further, eyes glinting with fury. Mouth open, he was panting, his shoulders heaving with the effort of having to keep up with her. Good. 

“You’re right,” she said, knifelike. “Maybe I don’t know you. Because I always thought you considered us your friends, instead of just your cannon-fodder!” 

He roared, shoving her forward, and she skidded across the grass, nearly tripping over her feet. Distantly, she noted that her wrist was throbbing. 

Percy swung his sword, building up his energy, and holding it aloft, he charged towards her, every inch of him radiating near-deadly intent. 

There was no way she could block this strike. 

So she decided to take a page out of Percy’s book. 

Dropping her knife, she charged right back at him, aiming low. 

She caught him around the middle, and their opposite forces sent them both tumbling to the ground. They rolled, limbs flailing as they fought for the upper hand, like two waves crashing into each other. 

But he wouldn’t be taken off guard a second time. Using the new momentum, he rolled so he was on top of her, his big hands pinning her wrists to the ground. Annabeth fought like a woman possessed–a soft grunt from above indicating that she got in a good hit or two–but he was simply too strong for her to throw him off. 

“I guess you really don’t know me at all,” he spat. His lip had split at some point, a single drop of dark blood lingering at the swell of it. “Because anyone I consider to be my friend would know that I would never think that.” 

“Could have fooled me,” she growled, pulling her legs up behind him. If she could just get the right leverage, maybe she could twist them and–

Anticipating her move, he shimmied down, dropping his hips over her thighs. She tried to lift her arm–to punch him or shove him or something–but he slammed them back down towards the ground. 

She wasn’t going anywhere. And he knew it.

But she had one last secret weapon. 

“At least you bothered to bring him back with you,” she said, unkindly–and a little undeservedly, if she was being honest. “If I had been on that mission instead of Beck, would you have left me behind?” 

“Never,” he swore. “I would never.” 

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” 

Percy glared at her, with all the fury of a volcano. She swallowed, worried, for a moment, that she had gone too far. That it was actually true. That maybe he could leave her behind, especially after everything she just said. That maybe she really didn’t know him after all. 

And then he did something that she wasn’t expecting. In retrospect, though, she shouldn’t have been surprised. She had done the same thing to him, after all.  

He kissed her. 

Turns out, he had a secret weapon, too. 

His mouth was hot on top of hers, the bead of blood from his lips falling to her tongue. She gasped, and he invited himself in further, his hand coming up to cup her face. Freeing her arms.  

She could have pushed him off. Told him to go kick rocks. Instead, she buried her hands in his hair, and brought him closer. 

How long they lay there, making out, she didn’t know. All she knew was that it was entirely too short–one moment, he licked at her lips, pressing her further into the dirt, and she whined, high in her throat, and in the next, he was standing a respectable distance away, hands over his mouth, eyes wild. Annabeth blinked, momentarily stunned. Had she hallucinated the whole thing? 

“I–” he stammered, uncharacteristically nervous. “I–I’m sorry, I–” 

Annabeth scrambled upright. Oh no he fucking didn’t– “Don’t you fucking dare–don’t you run away again.”

From the way he had put his weight on his back foot, he was about to do just that. “Excuse me?” he asked, gaping at her. 

“You heard me.” 

“Me? Run away?”

“Yes, you,” she said, gripping the grass hard enough to rip. “You’re a coward, Percy Jackson.” Here he was. Kissing her, and running off again. Last time, it had been to Calypso and Ogygia. Who might he choose over Annabeth now. Or maybe he’d choose a new god or goddess, perhaps. Romance Thetis or fuck Ganymede while Annabeth trained for his war. And pined away for his kiss. 

“Go fuck yourself,” he said, wiping the blood from his split lip, made wet and shiny with her spit. 

She threw a piece of grass at him, like it would do something. “Fuck me yourself” she snarled, blood racing hot. Not Calypso or Thetis or Ganymede or Aphrodite, but her, who was here and desperate and was fated to be screwed up forever by his kiss. By the memory of his hand, cupping her cheek, of his hair between her fingers, of his blood in her mouth. 

The grass, predictably, did nothing. But her words, apparently, did. 

He turned to stare at her, two sword lengths apart. Both of their weapons were on the ground now. But it felt like they were up and at the ready, pointed at each other’s chests. Because what else could this tense, coiled feeling in her stomach be? 

His chest heaved from exertion, a faint sheen of sweat gathered at the line of his thick, black hair, and she couldn’t help herself from tracing a drop as it ran over his brow, to his nose, to his lips, and finally his tongue, poking out from his lips to lick it up. A swell of jealousy rose in her, her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth, like it was trying to get to him. She clenched her jaw and looked away, digging her nails into the dirt floor to try to anchor her back to earth. 

“...What did you say?” 

“Nothing,” she muttered. “You won. Whatever.” 

In the corner of her vision, she saw his hand, outstretched and extended, and she took it, allowing him to pull her up off the ground. His long fingers, perfect for curling around the hilt of a sword, wrapped around her palm, his thumb inadvertently swiping over the bruise where he had grabbed her, and she suppressed a wince. 

“You okay?” 

Not well enough, it seemed. “Fine.” 

His hand in hers, he brought it to his face, inspecting the purple spot. She could feel his breath on her fingers, so soft and gentle, an unexpected counterpoint to his firm, steady grip. “I’m sorry,” he said, unable to meet her eyes. 

“It’s okay.” It didn’t actually hurt that bad. It’d probably be gone by tomorrow morning. 

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes dark and stormy. Looking into her own, their hands still clasped together.

And then he leaned forward and she met him halfway.

The last time anyone had ever kissed Annabeth Chase was at a party after the Harvard-Yale game her freshman year, before she’d decided she had to take a leave of absence to be a full-time demigod. (Even her dad agreed that if the world ended, there would not be a lot of use for BS in Architecture. But neither of them were happy about it.) The guy had smelled like beer, and had half his face painted crimson. She’d also been a little drunk. Mostly because the tequila shots her roommate had provided had ended up stronger than camp strawberry wine, which had always been her go to drink of choice. Before that had been Noah from her freshman seminar. Which had been one long exercise in disappointment. After disappointment. After disappointment. 

He pulled away, breaking off with a quiet gasp. “Did you mean what you said?” he asked.

“What?” She had said a lot of things. And her brain was a little bit scrambled from the kiss. 

“You told me to…” He trailed off, flushing. Then, like he was about to face a monster, she saw him swallow, square his shoulders, and look her in the eye again. “About fucking you.” 

She blinked. “What?” And this wasn’t happening. She could not be interpreting this correctly. Percy Jackson, hero of Olympus, greatest demigod alive, who could have any mortal and likely any immortal woman he wanted–Percy Jackson, who was going to die in just over a month, on his twenty-first birthday–was not asking her this. 

“You told me to fuck you,” he said, unflinching, having apparently gathered his strength. “Do you mean it?”

There had to be a way to save face with this. To not come off as one of his little groupies. To not set herself up for the inevitable heartbreak at the end of the summer. 

She could deflect quickly, accuse him of spending too much time at camp if he didn’t know a simple figure of speech. Make a joke about him being too forward. Make a joke about his dad and him being too easy. Ask if he was just worried about dying a virgin. (A stupid thought. He was too handsome, too powerful, too good to not have girls around camp throwing themselves at him. She’d seen it. And he was kind, and sweet, and good. But he wasn’t that good.)

She was the smartest person in the camp. She could get out of this. She was the smartest person at camp. She knew it meant men like Percy Jackson didn’t want to sleep with her. 

But from behind his stormy gaze was something else–desperation, from a young man doomed to die. He needed this… and maybe she did, too. 

She nodded. “Yes. I do.” 

He blinked, like he was taking a moment to process what she had said. “Okay. Come on, then.”  Turning, he led her away from the arena, never letting go of her hand. 

Outside, darkness was settling in. She thought he might be taking her to the infirmary, which she thought was a little bit extra for what was a minor bruise at best, but he took them in a different direction. She could have pulled away, kicked him in the balls, or flipped him into the dirt again. But she didn’t. 

Together, they made their way in silence to the halo of cabins, their shadows stretching and melting across the grass in the last few rays of daylight. Annabeth’s slowly deteriorating rational brain couldn’t even spare a thought to worry about someone possibly seeing them–though, apparently, that wasn’t an issue at all tonight, as Camp was practically deserted, almost deafening in its silence. In lieu of chatter and sword clangs and laughter, there were owls, the gentle waves on the beach, and her heartbeat, loud enough to drown it all out. 

Still holding her hand, he led her to his cabin, making quick work of unlocking the door. Most of the cabins didn’t have locks, but she knew there had been a few… incidents… of kids hoping to filch a souvenir from the mysterious lair of Percy Jackson. After the third decoy pen had disappeared, Beck had pitched in to help. 

But a lair it was not. It looked exactly like it had the last time she’d been there–a pile of laundry here, scattered candy wrappers there, the Minotaur horn still proudly displayed on the wall, gleaming darkly in the low light. Annabeth hadn’t been inside n months, ever since the last inspection ended up with her stubbing her toe no less than three times on a couple of loose nails which Percy had sworn up and down hadn’t been there five minutes ago, but she would have remembered seeing the giant fountain which now stood in the corner of the room. So it must have been new. 

“Redecorated recently?” she said, intending it to be a little harsher than it came out. 

“Gift from dad,” he replied, closing the door behind them. 

“Oh.” She could have guessed. The water pouring out must have been warm, a spray of mist ringing the edge of the basin, but she shivered anyway. 

The hand which had held hers moved to her arm now, gently turning her to face him. The fight was over. The walk back to the cabins wasn’t exactly difficult. And yet, he was still breathing hard. Like he just couldn’t catch it. 

The cabin was warm, sweet but not suffocating, but for a moment, she was thrown back to a dark cavern in the heart of a volcano, searing heat all around her, his t-shirt in her grip, her mouth against his. Her pulse skipped a beat as he brought his hand up to her hair, threading his fingers through her curls, and then he kissed her again. 

But “kiss” wasn’t really strong enough to describe what he was doing to her. 

In one moment, he held her like she was made of glass, and in the next, he had her crushed to his chest, lips pressed against her own. His arm had snaked around her waist, firm like iron, and somehow he had managed to slip his even firmer thigh between her own.

Wiggling a hand between their bodies, she gripped his shoulder, using the leverage to pull her mouth away, catching her breath. “Well,” she chuckled, a little light-headed, “someone’s excited–”

He cut her off, capturing her lips again, pulling her even tighter to him. His mouth felt hotter than any volcano. The hand in her hair pulled, ever so slightly, a calculated move to open her mouth so he could properly plunder it with his tongue. Clever. She didn’t think he’d had it in him. 

She could appreciate a good strategy. But she wouldn’t be taken down so quickly. 

The hand in her hair drifted sideways, gently turning her head so he could move his attack to her neck. And as she stood there, wrapped up in his embrace, she realized that she had made a grave miscalculation. 

Percy Jackson was not, apparently, worried he would die a virgin. He knew exactly what he was doing. Even when he pulled back, cradling her jaw, his thigh between hers the only thing keeping her from following. “Tell me again,” he said. “One more time.”

She blinked, uncomprehendingly. “Excuse me?” 

“Do you want to do this?” 

“You’re really asking that with your knee on my crotch?” 

At least he had the decency to blush, peach dusting the tips of his ears. “It’s like with the fighting. I’m asking because I’ve been told I can get a little… intense.” 

A sickly feeling went through her stomach, sharp as a knife. “By who?” 

Stone-faced, he looked away, his jaw snapping shut. 

Names and faces of potential culprits flashed through her mind: Drew, Katie, Miranda. All potential candidates. But if they had managed to bag Percy Jackson, everyone at camp would have heard about it before breakfast. There was Rachel, obviously, even if she didn’t want to admit it. But if it had been her, he would have been more embarrassed. He knew how Annabeth felt about her. 

Then she remembered–he had been missing for a month after he exploded the mountain. Lost beyond the reach of mortals. And when he had returned, he was different. Older, somehow, and maybe sadder. Like something had been lost. 

He released her, and she shivered at the sudden touch of air against her skin. “Go ahead and hop in the shower,” he said. “I’ll lock up and join you in a minute.” 

“Shower?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “We are a little smelly from earlier.” 

On cue, the stench of cooling sweat hit her all at once, and she blushed. 

Percy snorted, then kissed her cheek. “Go on,” he said. “I’ll just be a second.” And off he went, picking up a spare shirt and a couple of candy wrappers. How thoughtful of him. 

Showering was thoughtful, too, but it also seemed pretty silly to her. Like, they were only going to get sweatier in just a little bit, so what was even the point? 

Still, she had to admit, it was a nice shower. She was always fighting with her cabin mates for shower times, and they had instituted a strict, five-minute limit on water usage. Perks of living by yourself, she supposed–unlimited access to the bathroom. 

And perks of living in Cabin Three, apparently–the shower turned on immediately, a wave of gentle, consistent pressure which already started pumping out warm water. Had he paid his cyclops brother to gut the plumbing and redo the whole thing? 

Spoiled, supercilious ass.

Shoes and socks kicked off and haphazardly discarded in the corner, she stripped off her camp shirt and shorts, piling them on top of the closed toilet seat, before hesitating as she went to remove her bra. Which was stupid. How was she supposed to shower and have sex with someone while wearing her underwear? And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to take it off, her fingers stayed by some invisible force as they rested on the straps. On the other side of the wall, she could hear Percy humming to himself, tuneless, his footsteps soft against the wooden floor. 

She was being stupid. 

She swallowed her pride, and shucked off her bra and underwear, laying them gently across the rest of her clothes. 

The water ran hot, pleasantly so, steam filling the bathroom and fogging the shower. Shaking out her hair from its wispy, half-undone ponytail, she decided against letting it run free, putting it back up in a bun instead. She still had a day or two left in her shampoo rotation, no need to mess with it now. 

She sighed as she stepped in, the water pummeling her stiff shoulders, forcing them to relax, and she considered the merits of using what she presumed to be Percy’s soap, which rested on the corner shelf. Picking it up the bar, she sniffed it, carefully. Instead of gross boy smell, she got whiffs of salt, lavender, and sandalwood. It was nice. 

“You can use my soap if you want.” 

Only her many years of battle training kept her from jumping, slipping on the wet floor, and banging her head on the wall as she went down. As it was, she only flinched–barely–whipping her head around to glare at him. 

Of course, her carefully constructed insult withered away in her mouth as she got her first look at his naked body. His perfectly formed, perfectly shaped body. Fuck. Look at him. What the fuck. 

His lips twitched, like he was trying not to smile. For a moment, she was stunned. When was the last time she had seen him without a scowl? “Can I come in?” 

“S–” she coughed, dryly, and he raised an eyebrow. Cracking her head open might have been preferable. “Sure. Yeah. Your shower.” 

And he slipped into the shower with her. 

“May I?” he said, holding his hand out. 

She stared, uncomprehending, until he flicked his eyes to the soap. Wordlessly, she handed it over. 

“Turn around,” he murmured. “I’ll do your back.” 

And wordlessly, she did. 

His hands were the same temperature as the water, but she still flinched as he put them on her, one on her shoulder and one on her hip. “Easy,” he said, and she hated the way his tone made her flush. 

Slowly, carefully, he began to wash her with his soap. His hands skimmed over her skin, hypnotic, and despite her best efforts, she relaxed even further. She didn’t even jump when he stepped closer to her, his warm breath softly puffing against her neck, then the press of his lips to her ear even softer. She sighed, and he hummed, kissing the spot again. 

Annabeth stood there, submitting to Percy’s attentions, and her nerves slipped away with the water. It wasn’t very long until she was fully leaning into him, her back pressed right up against his firm chest, his hands wandering over her hips and thighs and stomach. Distantly, she recognized the brilliance of the soap trick–it was an easy way for him to get his hands on her, and boy was it working. 

And boy was she not bothered by it.

“So,” she asked, after a while, “is this a thing for you?”

He hummed, a wordless question. 

“Washing people. Is it a kink?” 

He snorted. “Hardly. We’re just sweaty.” 

“So it’s the shower, then.” 

This time, he actually laughed. “I’m not a shower sex person, no.” 

She turned her head to look at him, frowning. “Seriously?” 

Shrugging, he drew the bar of soap behind her ear, and she had to clench her teeth to stop herself from moaning. “Most of my previous partners aren’t much for showering.”

Wait, what? “Are you sneaking off to some hippy commune on off days?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“Nah, too much effort. The lake’s right there.” 

“...You’ve lost me.” 

He shot her a look, slanted, eyebrow raised.

She frowned, mind racing. He hadn’t slept with anyone from camp. He didn’t go off into the mortal world. The lake was right there. Who would… Oh. “The naiads? Really?” 

“Who else am I going to hook up with here? If I slept with another camper, everyone would hear about it by breakfast the next morning.” 

And yet, here she was, in the shower of Cabin Three. Clearly, he didn’t mind the gossip if it was about her. Heat pooled in her stomach, zipping through her veins. 

“I guess that makes sense,” she said, turning back to face forward. She couldn’t look at his bare chest for too long without getting weak in the knees. She couldn’t think about his perfect body pressed up against the inhumanly beautiful water spirits without wanting to be sick. “They always were incorrigible flirts.” 

“Yeah, well.” His hand now clean, he began wiping the soap off her body, taking care to cover every dip and curve. “I don’t really think it was me they were interested in.” 

She swallowed, her stomach twinging unpleasantly. 

The naiads were incorrigible flirts, with everyone, but they were especially aggressive with Percy. Even when he was a boy, she would always spy them blowing him kisses from under the water, or spot them leaving him little gifts of braided duckweed crowns outside his cabin, or at his table in the dining pavilion. That a flirtation might escalate to something… more… didn’t exactly surprise her. 

But it did piss her off. 

And the thought of Percy, handsome, kind Percy, in the hands of an inhumanly beautiful spirit… well that just pissed her off more. 

Lost in her thoughts and the feeling of his hands, it took her a minute to put together just what his fingers were tracking on her stomach, which twinged again, for an entirely different reason. 

“What’s wrong?” Percy asked. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she ground out, cheeks hot. “It’s nothing.” 

She felt his breathing, measured his calm, and could almost hear his incredulity when he asked, “You’re not ashamed of your scars, are you?” 

“Well…” 

Annabeth could almost picture the furrow in his brow as he parsed her words. She could turn around to see it, too, if she wanted, but she found herself frozen in place, held still by the trace of his fingertips over the white, jagged lines which hadn’t come from a weapon or claw. 

“The stretch marks?” he asked, after a moment. “Seriously?” 

“You literally just told me that you like to hook up with the naiads,” she grumbled, her attempt at crossing her arms aborted by the fact that they were trapped under Percy’s. “Excuse me for being a normal girl with body issues.” 

“What for?” 

She turned back to look at him. His face was just as she had pictured it. “Seriously?” she echoed. 

“Seriously. You’re…” He trailed off, still frowning, but she could see the wheels turning in his head. At least he was thinking about what to say, rather than just blurting out some silly, basic, uninspired ‘beautiful’ and calling it a day. 

When he didn’t follow up, she wondered if he had something critical to say instead.

But no, he only turned her around, pressing her up against him once again. Cupping her face, he leaned down, pressing another deep kiss into her, and she couldn’t help but lean into it, too, wrapping her arms about his neck, standing up on her toes. His hands, now free to roam, covered as much ground as they could, stroking her neck, her back, her sides, and lower, and lower. Warm hands moved from her shoulder blades to her ass, cupping the swell of it, holding her there. Waiting. 

For what? Should she jump into his arms? She wouldn’t necessarily mind that. Was he an “up against the wall” kind of guy? How would that have worked underwater, anyway? 

He broke away from her mouth, panting, and he gasped, “You think too much.” 

Without realizing it, she had been rendered breathless as well. Too well, maybe. She wasn’t thinking at all, at the moment. “What?”

“I can feel your brain working.” He kissed her again, one hand traveling back up to her hip, and she actually whimpered into his mouth. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.” 

Ah. “So I’m all brains, no beauty, then?” 

He pulled back, frowning again. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“It’s not exactly an insult,” she said, leaning up for another kiss. And it wasn’t. The long-simmering tensions between Six and Ten were common knowledge. Athena’s children prioritized one over the other, and it wasn’t the one that would put her in league with the pretty water spirits. 

He let her, but not for very long. “You’re both.”

“It’s really okay–” 

“It’s really not.” He kissed her this time, and hard. Harder than before, Her toes curled, and suddenly she was very grateful for the hand on her ass which didn’t let her fall. “You’ve always been both.” 

Her response was quashed by his tongue in her mouth, swallowed up by the nip of his teeth on her lips, snuffed out by the squeeze of his hand on her hip. 

“You,” kiss, bite, gasp, “are,” he moved to her jaw, then her neck, then her shoulder, planting hot kisses on each inch of skin, hotter than the water which pooled around their feet, “beautiful.” 

“Okay,” she said, fighting through the moan which threatened to burst from her chest, “now you’re laying it on a bit thick.” 

His only response was to drag his teeth across her jugular, soothing the trail of fire with his tongue. He kissed across the line of her collarbone, his lips pressing hot burns into her skin, and she shuddered as he reached her sternum. His hands traveled up her sides, but she had no time to mourn the loss, especially as his fingers came to rest just beneath her breasts. 

Flicking his eyes, wine-dark, up to hers, he rested his mouth just above her skin, one eyebrow raised, a silent question, seeking confirmation. Even the hot puffs of air over her chest were enough to make her tremble, and she had to bite her tongue to keep her eyes from fluttering closed. 

“Seriously,” she said, latching onto the last bits of sanity she had left, “you’ve already got me naked in your shower. You don’t have to flatter me into your bed. I know I’m not as hot as your immortal harem, it’s fine.” 

It was. And she was almost comfortable with that. She might have been, if it were all a question of abstractions, and not the knowledge that whatever sweet words he whispered, Percy Jackson would, inevitably, compare her to them. She might have been, if she could ever hope to measure up to them. 

Annabeth was only a mortal. How could she ever compare to such inhuman beauty? 

“Stop that.” His thumbs, ever so slightly, tilted up towards her breasts. 

“Stop what?” 

“Comparing yourself to them.” Lowering his head, his eyes never left hers, as deep and inexorable as a whirlpool. “Especially when this is so much better.” 

And he brought down his lips and teeth around a nipple. 

She jumped–into him, and he smirked. 

He kept her pinned there for a while, groping and grasping at her, and all the while, he feasted himself upon her. There was no other word for it. He covered every inch of skin with his mouth, moving from breast to breast and shoulder to shoulder, dragging his tongue over her, hot enough to burn. She let her head fall back, making room for his hungry mouth which peppered kisses up and down her neck.

So close to him, she felt his dark chuckle vibrate into her bones, skittering down her spine, scratching that most perfect itch, and she groaned, her hips stuttering as she faltered. Thank the gods for his leg, her shaking knees only stabilized by the thrust of his firm thigh between hers. He brought his hands around, roughly grasping her other breast, and she nearly jumped again. “W–what–” A squeeze, hot and hungry, and her thighs trembled. “What are you talking about?” 

In lieu of an answer, he bit her again. His teeth clamped over the pulse point in her neck, and he sucked. Hard. 

Someone should have informed Annabeth’s body that the neck wasn’t an erogenous zone, but it clearly hadn’t gotten the message–with every suck, every nip, every burning press of his lips, the ache between her legs only grew hotter and hotter. She clutched him to her, digging her fingers into the muscle of his shoulder, and felt his laugh all the way into her blood. 

Eventually, he released her, with one final swipe of his tongue across the newly growing bruise. “Gods,” he hissed, staring at her neck. “Look at you.” 

She swallowed, feeling the throb of her broken skin almost inside of her. A good, omen, hopefully. 

“Your neck.” He dipped down to kiss it again, before moving south. “Your skin.” His hand ghosted beneath the swell of her breast, fingertips leaving burning trails. “Look.” 

She did. She couldn’t not. 

The hot steam of the shower had turned her skin pink. Old scar tissue, years of mostly victorious battles, criss-crossed her body, the lines now nearly white. Percy traced them with his fingers, kissed his way across the map of her body, from breast to stomach to hips. “Perfect,” he murmured, getting down on his knees. 

Flushing, as hot as the water, Annabeth looked up at the ceiling, lip between her teeth. She couldn’t look at him. Not like that. Not with his eyes shining, dark and hungry. Not with the way his hands cradled her hips, firmly but gently. 

And then, he smacked her ass. 

She yelped, hopping up onto her toes. “The hell–!”

“I’ve wanted to do that forever,” he said, that slanted grin making her melt. “I always wondered what color you’d turn if I spanked you.” He flicked his gaze up at her, eyes so blown out they were nearly black, and he smacked her again. And again. “Oh yeah,” he grinned. “That’s a nice red.” 

Presumably, her face was just as red as her ass was now. “Good for you.” 

Good for her, too. 

“Annabeth,” he called from below. “Look at me.” 

Her eyes fluttered open, and she did. He knelt before her, and she saw his hands along her thighs, his mouth parted, lips and tongue wet–and his cock. Hard. Red. Painfully at attention.

“You don’t know how much I thought about you,” he murmured, taking one leg and draping it over his shoulder. “How I used to dream about you.” He pressed a kiss to her thigh, and Annabeth, embarrassingly, moaned, a long, deep, drawn-out thing, which only served to make him grin. “About this.” 

It was impossible to mistake his intentions here. He had telegraphed it every step of the way. And yet, even with him on his knees, his mouth between her legs, and hunger in his eyes, it still surprised her when he put his tongue to her cunt. 

She gripped his hair, spine bending, and felt his lips curve against her skin. 

Okay. Definitely not a virgin. 

Hot breath puffed against her thigh, and he dragged the flat of his tongue over her folds, wet, slow, and obscene, over and over again, so loud she could hear it, even over the roar of the shower. One hand came up to brace her against him, splayed out over the small of her back, while the other dug crescents into her skin, little sparks stoking the fire ever hotter. 

Annabeth had given head maybe once or twice, but she’d never gotten it. She’d endured a few finger fumbles from less-than-skilled practitioners in the heat of the moment, and decided that she didn’t want their faces anywhere near her vagina. And to hear it from the girls around camp, a lot of guys, both mortal and demigod, weren’t exactly enthusiastic about the whole cunnilingus thing. 

Not so with Percy. He knelt beneath her, sturdy as a statue, his onslaught against her showing no signs of stopping. Before long, he had abandoned the flat of his tongue, trading wide coverage for a more concentrated area of attack. As smoothly as he used his sword, he slid his tongue between the folds of her cunt, the sharp edge opening her up, little by little, the point flickering along her clit, sending tiny shocks all up into her. 

Blood roared in her ears, fighting with the heavy spray of water, the wet smack of his lips, the rhythmic grunts of pleasure she only realized came from her when he pulled back, grinning up at her, and said only one word: “Louder.” 

Suddenly she was very grateful for the sounds of the shower spray. 

She was even more grateful when he moved from merely licking along the seam of her cunt to sticking his tongue right inside it. A moan broke through her throat, punching out of her almost painfully, and she curled over Percy’s head, gripping his hair even tighter, which only had the added effect of pushing her hips further into his mouth. 

Seizing on the sudden change in her center of gravity, he readjusted her leg to put more weight on his shoulder, freeing up the hand on her back for a much more important task–slipping his finger inside of her. 

“Fuck,” she moaned, clenching around the thick slide of it. “Percy.” 

His smirk burned against her thigh, and he pulled her even closer, locking her into his embrace, lips and tongue and teeth and hand sending her ever closer towards the edge at an alarming rate. Annabeth had never gotten so close to orgasm with anyone so quickly before in her life. 

Hell, she’d never gotten so close to orgasm so quickly, period. 

She wanted to tell him to stop, or slow down. If this was to be their only night together, then she wanted to enjoy it, not fumble through as quickly as possible. Rhythmically, she flexed her fingers in his thick hair, attempting to hold on to the few functional brain cells she had so she could tell him something fun and sexy, like, Why the rush, or It’s not a race, until he pressed the mound of his palm up against her clit, and her brain shorted out entirely. 

And when he licked it, wrapping his lips around and sucking, it was all over. 

She came, hard, curling over his head, moaning so wantonly it would make Eros blush. If Percy hadn’t been beneath her, holding her trembling body, she might have fallen over entirely. She must have missed a few seconds, because suddenly, Percy had slithered out from under her, and had gathered her up in his arms again, kissing her so fiercely she could taste herself on him. 

“Annabeth,” he moaned, his breath as hot as his hands. She could feel him against her, as hard as bronze. 

She would have responded, if he hadn’t rendered her completely useless. Her tongue felt numb in her mouth, battered by his, a slick, wet, heavy onslaught that she never wanted to end. A siege she desperately hoped would never be broken. 

Eventually, though, after she had been kissed thoroughly stupid, he let up, pulling back more than two inches away from her face. “Okay?” he ground out, his voice rough and gravelly, wrecked like he was the one who had been doing the screaming. 

“Hng,” she responded, eloquently. 

It was only the smallest shred of lingering pride which let her walk out of that shower on her own two feet, rather than have Percy carry her to his bed, like she was some kind of blushing bride. The thought brought her, a bit cruelly, back into herself, and she shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the sudden absence of the warm water as Percy shut off the shower. “Okay?” he asked again, his hand on her waist, and she nodded, swallowing at the feel of gooseflesh which ran through her body. 

She nodded, running her tongue over her lips, a pleasant spark bursting inside her as she watched his eyes track it. “I thought,” she said, the taunt lightly undercut by the audible sigh in her voice, “that you were going to fuck me.” 

His eyes darkened, trench-deep, and he moved his hand to entwine it with hers, entirely too gentle for the way he growled out his next words: “If you wanted a good fucking, all you had to do was ask.” 

“Isn’t that why you dragged me into your lair?” she asked, leading him to the bed. She needed to sit down or her legs might give out. “To give me a good fucking?” 

Before she could sit down, though, he pulled her to him again, fastening his lips to her neck. “I think,” he whispered into her skin, “that you should ask me for it.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me.” And then he nipped at her jugular, lightly, and she gasped, twitching in his arms. “Ask me to fuck you.” 

“Percy–” she tried, half-heartedly, to squirm out of his embrace, but he wouldn’t budge. 

“Mm?” He licked her ear, and she squeaked. “What was that?” 

Annabeth pushed at his chest. 

In response, he blew a raspberry on her. 

Shrieking, she managed to twist her way out of his arms, and shoved him lightly onto the bed. Percy made it easier, laughing too hard to hold onto her. “Asshole.” 

He leaned back, resting on his elbows, a smooth, fluid motion, the dim lights of his cabin casting his chest and stomach in sinful shadow. “Aw, let me have my fun,” he chuckled. “First time I tried that on a naiad, she thought it was some kind of mysterious, human wedding rite.” 

Something in Annabeth’s chest grew hot. She wasn’t sure what was worse–the reminder that Percy had slept with the naiads, the idea that he had tried something human with them and they had misunderstood it, or the use of the w-word. Wedding. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “How would you like it if someone sprang that on you?” 

He grinned, sharklike. “I think I’d like that very much.” 

It hit her, then, what position they’d ended up in. Sprawled out before her, Percy had let his legs fall open, a twitch away from bracketing her between them. And there, staring her in the face, was his cock. Hard. Pointed at her. 

She swallowed, her mouth filling with saliva. Which was a new experience. 

Nothing about her previous sexual encounters had ever inspired her to try fellatio before. She’d given a couple of handjobs, sure, but this was uncharted territory. In theory, the idea had always sounded… decidedly unappealing. Penises were gross, as were often the guys attached to them.

But there was Percy’s cock. It didn’t look gross at all. 

It looked perfect, and purple, and so, so fucking pretty.

Only the creak of her knees as she knelt down was able to snap her out of her trance. She wasn’t exactly the most graceful person–she guessed she should be thankful she had managed to get down here without collapsing in an embarrassing heap. She tried not to picture the naiads, creatures of otherworldly grace and poise, slithering down to kneel before their lord’s son. 

And then she realized his cock was at eye-level, and all other thoughts went out the window. 

“Hey.” Percy’s hand was on her cheek, and he tilted her face towards him. His eyes were soft as he looked at her, the heat of the moment not quite as intense as before. “You don’t have to,” he said, even as his fingers skated beneath her chin. His thumb hovered before her lips, twitching. 

“You don’t want me to?” She asked. Experimentally, she flicked out her tongue, making contact. 

“I… don’t know how to answer that question,” he said, hoarse. 

“You don’t?” She looked again to his cock, and breathed on his thumb, her breath as hot and wet as she could make it. 

It twitched. He hissed, like he had been shocked. 

In response, she laughed, deep in her throat. “Seems like you just did.” 

And then, in what might have been the most brazen thing she had ever done, including inviting the son of Poseidon to fuck her out of nowhere, she reached forward, and took his thumb into her mouth. She drew her tongue against the skin, licking the clean taste of him, and hollowed her cheeks in an exaggerated suck. 

Spots of red appeared on his cheeks, and his jaw dropped open. “Gods,” he growled, a tone of voice she had never heard out of his mouth before. Something deep inside her pulsed, and she decided to do it again. 

“Gods,” he said again, eyes as black as a sea storm. 

Dragging her tongue along the line of his thumb, she let her eyes flutter close, lips curling as she heard him groan, wrecked like a ship on shore. 

“Gods,” he said a third time, his fingers delicately cradling her face, and a thrill went through her. “The fucking mouth on you.”

Releasing his thumb with an obscene pop, she pressed forward, ready to put that mouth to use. And she wanted to. She wanted to hear her name as it spilled from his lips, in choked, bitten-off gasps, or long, loud moans. She wanted to send his eyes rolling, to have him tangle his fingers in her hair, bending over her as she brought him to ever higher heights. She wanted to make him feel as amazing, as wanted, as he did for her. 

But he had other ideas, evidently. “C’mere,” he murmured, pulling her back up to him. He wasted no time, kissing her senseless, occupying her mouth in other ways. Hungry hands gripped at her hips, her tits, her chin and her cheeks, and she just let it all happen. 

Well, almost. “I thought,” she said, panting just a little, “you wanted me to–”

He cut her off with a kiss. “Not tonight,” he said, softly, before going back for more. 

But she pulled back, confused. “What do you mean?” Tonight was all they had. He was going to die soon. She’d never get the chance to suck his dick if not tonight. She’d never get the chance to do anything else with him if not tonight.

Slowly, achingly tender, he tucked a curl behind her ear, all passion deserting him for the moment. “I don’t…” he swallowed, then, suddenly shy, before bringing her in closer, enveloping her in an embrace. 

After a second of shock, she returned it, wrapping her arms around him. Even with a girl naked and in his lap, perched on top of his hard cock, nevertheless he held her far more gently than she ever imagined he could be capable of. He buried his nose in her neck, his breath hot against her skin, and if she hadn’t been so close, she never would have heard his next words. 

“I don’t want you like that,” he said, barely audible. 

She was proud of how little her voice betrayed the sudden, cold shock that came over her, like she had been dumped in the lake. “Oh.” 

“No, I mean–” He shook his head, nose against her skin. “Not at my feet.” 

Not at–...ah. Of course. The naiads. 

I don’t really think it was me they were interested in.

She pressed her lips to his hair, already bone dry even after their shower. “Okay,” she promised. “Okay, I won’t.” 

He nodded into her neck, and just held her for a little while longer. 

“Besides,” he said, after a moment. “I like this just fine.” 

She tilted her head back, giving him more access. “Like what?” 

“You.” Kiss. “Here.” Another, lower on her neck. “Smelling like me.” 

Cheeks red, she let him pepper kisses all over her skin, fingertips tapping scattered rhythms against his shoulders. Any time she tried to pull away, he dug his fingers in deeper, hands tightening about her waist, a quick nip to her neck to keep her in place, and she just let him. Let him explore her body like the seas they sailed through and the labyrinths they’d traversed together. His hands traced a path from top to bottom, from neck to spine to stomach to clit, as sure and confident as though he had Ariadne’s thread, and she couldn’t help but sigh at every burning touch and scorching kiss. With every stroke and every bite, he pulled a moan from her, playing her as skillfully as any musician. 

“That’s it,” he growled, leaning down to kiss between her breasts. “Don’t hold back–I want to hear your moans.” 

Oh, he did, did he? 

Tipping her head back so she could look down her nose at him, she met his eyes, and shut her jaw with an audible clack. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. 

Annabeth raised hers back, a silent challenge.

“Oh, we’re being shy now, are we? What happened to the girl who basically fellated my thumb?” He bent his head towards her breast, grazing his teeth across the skin, running his tongue around her nipple. 

She had to chew on her lips to keep her mouth shut. A squeak still managed to escape, but he had just given a sharp bite to her nipple, so she thought that was allowed. Soothed by the swipe of a tongue, Annabeth swallowed her moans as best she could, which meant that it had to come out in other ways. She tightened her legs around his, squirming on top of his lap, gratified by the hiss that came from beneath. 

Grinning, Percy took up the cause with vigor, slipping his fingers inside of her. 

Was she so turned on it hurt? Yes. Was it getting harder and harder to keep her noises in? Absolutely. But she wasn’t going to sit there and just take what he was giving her. She wasn’t one of the simpering naiads who only treated him as an extension of his father. 

She was Annabeth, and she refused to make it easy for him. 

And judging from the gleeful glint in his eyes, he was certainly enjoying it. 

In one smooth motion, he turned them over, laying her down on his bed. She grabbed him before he could pull back, bringing him down with her for another blisteringly hot kiss, and he went with no resistance to speak of. Not content to confine her hands to his hair, she let them wander all over the expanse of his body, paying him back in kind as much as she could. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his ass–oh dear gods, his ass, how in any of the nine realms could anyone have an ass that perfect–until eventually, she reached his cock, which jumped as she wrapped her fingers around it, giving it a few slow, languid pumps. In her arms, he shuddered, moaning so deep in his chest she felt it vibrate through her body. He shifted, and his hips accidentally rocked up against hers in the most perfect angle. 

It was enough to break her self-imposed silence, and she gasped, sharp and broken. 

When he did it again, she realized it was no accident. 

“You motherf–”

Percy kissed the curse out of her mouth, leaving her breathless. Like a man possessed, he threw himself back down onto her body, kissing and licking and sucking and touching a path towards her cunt, and she was almost paralyzed at the pleasure of it all. 

When he reached her stomach, she finally had collected enough oxygen to ask, “So, how am I doing?” 

He lifted his head, blinking at her uncomprehendingly. “Huh?” 

“In bed. How am I doing? How do I measure up to the nai–”

A bite, and she gasped. “What did I say about comparing yourself to them?” he asked, and followed it up with another bite, this time on her thigh. “It's really not fair to them.”

“What?” she gasped. She almost hadn’t heard him over the ringing in her ears.  

He pulled back, and looked up at her. And she felt more then watched as one of his sword calloused fingers moved to trace along her knee, where she had a scar. It wasn’t a battle scar. Not even from training. When she had been little, she’d fallen down while ice skating and ended up cutting her knee on a branch resting on the lake. 

“Have you ever had sex with a nature spirit?” 

She blinked at him, the gears furiously turning in her head at this break in sensation. Annabeth was a person who could count her sexual experiences on one hand, and reached a peak exactly none of those times. It was fairly well known that water and plant spirits tended towards women, especially around camp. Though she might have been closer to bi than straight, Percy Jackson didn’t know that. She didn’t exactly want to share all of this with him, either. So she shook her head. 

He sat a little further back, which was not really the action she wanted him to do, but she was more desperate for him to explain than she was to complain. 

“They’re so perfect,” was the only answer he gave her, looking at her face, and then back at the scar on her knee, brushing it with his fingers, and then petting a little lower down her leg. 

With an unsexy twist to her stomach, she realized he was looking at the leg hair. “Sorry.” 

He looked up at her again, frowning, before placing a kiss on the scar. “You’re not listening,” he said again. “They’re perfect. They’re some sort of weird ideal. Everything is smooth and perfect, like it was carved from marble based on some platonic ideal of a woman.”

“Because that’s so reassuring.” 

Percy placed another kiss on her thigh. “And fucking marble is like fucking anything platonically.” He sighed, just the barest shade of world-weariness peeking out from behind his careful facade. “There's nothing there. Not really. No flaw. No evidence of fighting. No humanity.” He grasped at her thigh, where another set of stretch marks lay. “They can't have anything like this. Because they can’t grow and change. “ He smirked at her, and the world settled back into balance a little. “Their asses certainly don’t turn red when I give them a good smack.��� 

You could probably power a small country with the heat coming off her face. She should talk to Jake about developing a new, renewable energy source out of this. But still, something nagged at her. 

Apparently, he could tell. “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“I know you’ve…” She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, blocking the words from coming out. 

He sat back on his haunches, hands gently resting above her knees. “What is it?” 

“I’m…” 

Some kind of understanding flickered in his eyes, and he pulled his hands back. “Okay. We don’t have to do anything–” 

“Percy.” She shot her hand out and grabbed his before he could get too far away. “That’s not what I want.” 

“Look, if you’re feeling weird about this, we can stop right now–” 

Shaking her vehemently, she tugged on his arm to bring him back to her, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’m not feeling weird, I promise. I mean,” she tilted her head, considering, “I am, but not about–about you.”  

He softened, just a hair. “Then what is it?” 

Sighing, she looked down at his hand, twining their fingers together. “You’ve done this a lot, right?” 

A pause. “Well, yeah. I mean, mostly with the naiads. But yeah. I’ve… done it a few times,” he said, sheepish. 

“Okay, well, I haven’t.”

His eyes widened. “Never?” 

“Not never,” she clarified. “Maybe once or twice. But never with someone I actually…” 

The air grew tense, like a wave about to hit. Percy spoke, hushed, like they were in a temple, instead of his bed. “Someone you actually…?” 

Swallowing again, she flicked her eyes back up to him. He was still, like a shark, poised and ready to strike. In the dim light, he looked even more handsome, his black hair thrown into disarray by her fingers, his lips swollen and kiss-bruised, his thumb gently stroking against her palm. 

“Someone I actually like,” she finished, barely more than a puff of hair. 

His eyes fluttered closed, and he bent over, laying his head on her stomach. “You don’t even know,” he said into her skin, voice strained almost to breaking. “You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?” 

Before she could even begin to parse what he had just said, he returned to his earlier task of learning her body with his mouth, but with a renewed vigor. Or maybe a new frenzy would be a better way to put it. He held her hips firmly with his hands, shoving them down every time she so much as twitched as he attacked her cunt with lips, teeth, and tongue, feasting on her like she was his last meal. Overcome by this sudden onslaught, she could do little more than hang on for dear life, fisting her hands in his sheets, and soon, she found herself racing perilously close to the edge again. 

“Per–” she gasped as he sucked on her, “Percy, I–” 

But he would not be stopped. Fastening his lips to her labia, he lavished stroke upon stroke upon her, his nose bumping up against her clit in a way that made stars burst in her eyes, and then, all of a sudden, she had tipped over the cliff. 

The cabins were supposed to be pretty soundproofed, but there was no way the whole camp didn’t just hear her scream like that. Hopefully they thought it was just a harpy or something. 

Panting, almost dizzy, she lay there, attempting to gather her bearings, while Percy kissed his way back up her body, stopping at every waymark he had left on her skin, each bite and nip and freckle, pulling her down from the heavens until she fell back into her body, trembling from the force of her orgasm. There was something in her ear, and it took her a few extra seconds to put together that Percy was speaking to her. 

“You’re so amazing, so beautiful, so hot,” he babbled, kissing up and down her neck, “you are the most amazing woman, I can’t believe I finally get to have this, gods, Annabeth–” 

Turning her head with only a little difficulty, she cut him off, her lips apparently proving too tempting for him to not kiss. 

She couldn’t stand hearing those words coming out of his mouth. Not from someone who, in just a month, would in all likelihood be–

His knuckles brushed over her sensitive clit, and she jumped, about to refuse, because she simply could not handle a third mind-bending fingering tonight, but he just grunted in apology. Instead of his hands, then, she felt the soft, smooth tip of his cock, bumping up against her opening. She shivered, breath stuttering in her chest. “Please,” she mumbled, “please, please, please–” 

He slipped in, a smooth, agonizing motion, which sent her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into the skin, and it took her a moment to realize that the high, keening sound she heard was coming from her. 

His arms pulled her in even tighter, and with a sigh, he began to move. 

Annabeth had had sex before. Both times before had been lackluster, uninspiring events, where the guy had clearly learned all of his techniques from porn, jackhammering away at her vagina without really knowing what he was doing. She figured being with Percy, with his long and storied history, would probably make for a much more notable experience. But she was completely unprepared for just how much better it could be. 

He rocked her like the tide, a slow, steady, insistent movement which set her nerves sparking from top to bottom. Pleasure lapped at her from every side, washing over her in waves, while Percy’s body kept her anchored, one hand against her back, the other curling about her neck. She could feel as he dug his knees into the mattress, could feel the corded muscles in his thighs as he moved in her, traced the shifting muscles of his back with her fingertips, and she couldn’t help but let out a long, broken moan. “Percy,” she gasped, “I–I–oh–” 

He didn’t respond, only kissed the corner of her lips, open-mouthed and sloppy. Then he pulled away, and she almost whined at the loss of contact. 

“So, how is it?” He asked her, with barely more than a puff of air. 

“What?” She had no idea what he could mean. Why was he asking her questions at a time like this, if the answer was anything other than “more”?

He grinned. “Having sex with someone you actually like?”

She rolled her eyes. Or she would have, if he hadn’t given her a particularly satisfying thrust that made her legs twitch. It was hard to think straight, because, really, it was amazing, but she shot back anyway, “How is it having sex with someone actually human?”

“I told you,” he said, and his grin dropped, just a little, “you are so much better than a thousand naiads together could hope to be.” He let out a breath, and then grasped her torso, and with a force she definitely knew he had but hadn’t seen outside of the training grounds, rolled them over, leaving her on top. A position she’d never tried before. “And now,” he said, twirling a curl around his finger, “I want to see it from a different angle.”

Momentarily, she was overcome by the sudden shift in sensation. Under him, it hadn’t been bad, of course, but compared to the fingering of a lifetime, it hadn’t quite measured up as of yet. Now, she needed a second to get used to the feeling of him inside of her all over again. From this vantage point, he seemed bigger somehow, filling her every nook and cranny, the intensity crashing on her like a wave. 

Below her, he smirked, somehow reading her mind. “Good?”

Well, if he wanted to be like that, fine. She could wipe that stupid grin off his face. 

Her own face was bright red, she was sure, but she was determined not to lose this rematch. What was the point of core workouts and leg days anyways if she never put them to some use?

Gritting her teeth, she tightened her legs around him, pleased at the stutter in his breath. She rose up, hissing at the slick slide of his cock inside her, the drag of sparks which shot up through her spine, and her fingers trembled on his shoulders as she lowered herself back down. Then she did it again. And again. And again. Beneath her, Percy’s chest moved with the controlled force of his breath, his hands flexing on her hips. Biting her lip, she shifted forward an inch–and cried out as the new angle made it so he pressed up against a spot which made her eyes cross.

“Oh, gods,” he groaned, head thrown back. “Oh, fuck–Annabeth, gods.” 

She liked that. She liked that very much. 

And this, she thought as she began to ride him. She liked this very much, too. 

Over and over, she struck down on that spot inside her, and eventually, she couldn’t stay silent. Each thrust down startled a moan out of her, climbing higher and higher until you could practically keep time with it. Percy writhed below her, panting, his stomach flexing rhythmically, until he could no longer stand it and surged up, crushing her to his chest, and set about to fucking her. 

His cock stabbed up into her at the same, torturous pace, making her see stars, her moans swallowed up by the press of his mouth on hers. She could feel the muscles of his strong arms bulging, burning like brands across her back. Tearing his lips away, he kissed a meandering path to her ear, and asked, mumbling, “Is this–unh–is this good? Is this what you wanted?” 

“Yes,” she gasped, jolting as he nibbled on her earlobe. “Yes, Percy!” 

“Tell me.”

“Fuck, it’s so good–ah…” 

“Tell me you want me–please.” He kissed her jaw, slurring the word into her skin, the movement of his hips sloppier and sloppier.

There was no cockiness in his tone, no jokes. No self-satisfied smugness. Only desperation. A desperation to please her. 

“I–want–Percy–touch me–”

And like a seasoned sailor navigating the stars, his fingers found her clit–and she was done. 

Boneless, she flopped in his arms, her arms around his neck the only thing keeping her from toppling off him as he chased the last of his pleasure within her. With a broken, wrecked noise, he squeezed her impossibly tighter, his hips stuttering beneath her as he buried his face into her shoulder, gasping for air. He shook, his body seizing around her and in her, and she couldn’t help but echo his cry at it, the current of feeling dragging her back down into the depths. Submerged in it, surrounded by it, she clutched at his shoulders, riding the last lingering shockwaves of electric pleasure that skittered through her body. 

Slowly, agonizingly, he relaxed around her, a gradual release of pressure. But he didn’t release her, falling back instead with her still in his arms. 

“Damn.” She felt him more than heard him, a soft sigh which vibrated under his sternum and into her. “Damn.” 

She grunted in agreement. 

Time slipped away as she lay there, sprawled out on the bed of his body, resting her head on his chest, keeping the minutes only by the furious pounding of his heart against her ear as it slowed down, as they both came down from the skies together. Apparently unable to keep his hands off her even after sex, he twirled her hair around his finger, the gentle tug keeping her grounded. It could have been hours until she managed to scrape together the energy to raise her head to look at him. He was looking at her, a soft, shiny glow behind his eyes. “That was nice,” she said, hoarse. 

The corner of his lips quirked up. “Oh yeah? We should do this again sometime.” 

Laughter bubbled up out of her, and he followed suit, the movement jostling her body. “Ugh,” she winced, gently pulling off of him. “I’m going to feel that in the morning.” 

“In a good way or a bad way?” 

She flopped down beside him, sending him a grin. “I’ll let you decide.” 

“Come back,” he pouted. “I want to cuddle.” 

“Never would have pegged you for a cuddler.” She shifted into him with little hesitation, humming as his hands took up residence in her hair again. “Doesn’t that kind of ruin your heartbreaker reputation?” 

“I love cuddling.” He brushed his knee up against hers, sliding his arm beneath her head. “And I don’t get to nearly as often as I would like.” 

“Naiads aren’t big on post-coital snuggles?” The thought made her inexplicably happy. 

“Imagine trying to cuddle a person-shaped jellyfish.” 

She frowned. “Wriggly? Squishy?” 

“Hard to hold. The sea doesn’t like to be restrained, you know.” 

“Or the lake, in this case.” 

He huffed a laugh. “I guess.” 

She could have responded, but there wasn’t much she could say that wasn’t horribly rude to the water spirits, so she let them fall into companionable silence instead. And it was companionable. Percy gently carded his fingers through her hair, and she drew aimless patterns on his chest with her finger, lines and angles which slowly formed themselves into letters: alpha, nu, alpha, beta, epsilon–

Percy stilled beneath her. “Oh, shit.” 

“What? What is it?” 

He sat bolt upright, staring down at her. “You don’t…” he swallowed, color rising to his face. “You don’t happen to be on birth control, do you?” 

“...Excuse me?” 

Groaning, he fell back, hands over his face. “We didn’t use any protection.”

“...Oh, shit.” You know, she did feel damper than usual down there. 

Without thinking, she snaked a hand down, swiping a finger through herself, and brought it back up, observing. 

Yup. That was definitely semen. 

Well. 

She was pretty sure Will had some Plan B squirreled away somewhere in their stores. 

Suddenly, she was very aware of Percy looking at her. 

Studiously ignoring his gaze, she popped her finger in her mouth, licking it clean, and he made a noise like he had been stabbed. 

“Di immortales,” he wheezed. “You’re trying to kill me.” 

Pleasure stirred in her, purring like a cat, but she decided to ignore it. For now. “So, are you always this lax with protection with the naiads, too? Are we going to see an influx of little Percys in nine months?” 

“There better not be.” 

“Would a condom even work with a naiad?” she wondered aloud, more to herself than anything, but Percy shook his head. 

“It wouldn’t. But there won’t be any mini-mes running around.” 

“How do you know?” 

He gulped, audibly. “I, uh… I made them swear not to have my children.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she shot him a look. “You made them promise? Really?” Like that would do anything. Nature spirits were flighty and impulsive by nature. So kind of like demigods, really. 

“No, I mean…” His gaze turned up, suddenly very interested in the wooden ceiling beams. “I made them swear on the Styx.” 

“...Oh.” 

“Yeah. I didn’t–I didn’t want…” He trailed off. Annabeth’s mind rushed to fill in the blanks. The responsibility? The burden? The hope? “I didn’t want to leave someone behind. Who didn’t know their father.”

Annabeth couldn’t respond. Her heartbeats ticked by like seconds, counting down to his birthday. 

He coughed. “Um, yeah.” 

“Yeah.” 

“And–and also, I wouldn’t want them to use any potential kid of mine as a bargaining chip, either. You would not believe how complex undersea politics can get.”

A bargaining chip? “For what?”

He shrugged. “Power. Bragging rights. Marriage.”

Her brain short-circuited. “Is… that something you want?”

He looked at her for several long moments. “Not with a Naiad from the camp lake who settled for Poseidon’s son when she would rather fuck Poseidon instead.” He looked at her. And somehow there was more to it than when he had been inside her. “But I’m not opposed. To the concept of marriage. In general.”

She couldn’t–she couldn’t think about that. “Well, clearly that’s not what I’m here for.”

He raised a dark eyebrow, the edges of his devil-may-care smirk pulling on his lips. “Oh?”

“Come on,” she said, lightly shoving him. “You think I’d be interested in marrying you?” 

The words dropped between them, as heavy as a stone in water. 

She cleared her throat. “I mean, I didn’t fuck you to have your baby, either.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I mean, I don’t want to fuck or marry your dad!”

“I think your mom would disown you if you did.” 

“Stop being a seaweed brain,” she said, “I’m trying to say something nice.”

“By all means.” He was smirking again. Right this second, maybe it wasn’t annoying, maybe it made him look roguish and handsome.

“I like you. And not because you're the son of Poseidon. But because you’re Percy Jackson.”

It was true that the power he held, the strength and skill, flowed from the same source as his father. But it wasn’t Percy’s ability to control the waves that enchanted her. It was that he had that power, and he used it. But he also helped little twelve year old campers with sword stances, and made messy evil eye charms in the arts and crafts tent to give to homesick kids. He could be both.

And that gentleness, that caring nature, was not something she saw reflected in Poseidon.

“Oh.” He said again, but he looked a little less cocksure, “So… what…”

“I mean… It's not like all that power isn’t hot. But lots of people have power. You know when to use it,” she said. “And when to be kind. Or take a step back.” Or let her have her say. Let her offer her opinion, and then take it into consideration. It was so much hotter than just having strength.

He grinned, slanted and shit-eating, even if it was a little shaky. “Hotter, really?”

Fuck, she hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

“Really,” she said, trying to keep the embarrassment off her face. At this point, it was probably already too late, though.

Apparently satisfied, he let the topic drop, sparing her the humiliation of explaining herself further. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired, and it’s getting pretty late…” He trailed off, meaningfully.

Oh. Well. She supposed that was her cue. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side, only for Percy to reach out and grab her hand. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To my cabin? You just said it was late–”

“I was trying to imply that you should stay. Here.” He turned those eyes on her, brimming with equal amounts hope and apprehension. “With me.” 

Oh. That was… “That’s against the rules,” she said, carefully. Guarded. Gauging.

“...Yeah.” His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. “Yeah, I guess it is.” 

Still. “...Maybe we could… meet up tomorrow? I mean,” she forced a laugh, “I still owe you a blowjob, right?” 

For a long, drawn out moment, he didn’t answer her, only rubbing his thumb against the side of her palm. And then, softly, muted, like he was speaking underwater, he said, “Right. Yeah. We can–we can meet up tomorrow.” 

He didn’t sound very confident. But he let her go all the same.

In short order, she had slipped into the bathroom, quickly re-dressing herself, and now lingered at the door to his cabin, wondering how best to say goodbye. It seemed as though he hadn’t moved at all, still lounging nude on his sheets, his perfect bronzed form exposed to the open air, arms drawn up and behind his head, his brooding gaze fixed firmly somewhere above him. “Well,” she said, entirely out of words. “Good night.” 

“Night.” 

She waited a heartbeat more, then slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her. 

They’d see each other tomorrow. They’d both agreed to it. 

If she had her way, they’d see each other every day for the rest of their lives. But they didn’t have the rest of their lives. She only had until the end of the war. Only the rest of his life.

Eyes suddenly hot, she swiped at them furiously, and began making her way back to her cabin. 

Tomorrow, then. She’d make tomorrow count. 

…And she would make sure to stop by the infirmary tomorrow morning, too.

[xoxoemynn]

Okay, coming back to this post initiated from @jellybeanium124 now that I've had some time to wake up and rewatch the scene in question of Stede walking in on the crew devouring the seagull raw.

Like I said in my original "something something" response, there is some folklore that seagulls possess the souls of deceased sailors, and the screeches they make are the sailor's mournful wails. Therefore, it was considered bad luck to harm seagulls in any way, because it would be doing injury to the soul of a sailor.

Related, there is of course The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, where the mariner kills the albatross, bringing about great calamity to the crew. The mariner is then forced by the crew to wear the albatross around his neck as a sign of his guilt while they go through hell on the high seas.

I do believe the world of OFMD follows these superstitions. We see it with Karl and Olivia being able to speak with Buttons, and we see what happens to Calico Jack when he kills Karl. Yes, that was with some hexly influence from Buttons, but point stands: killing birds is Bad.

Something I keep stirring in my "is this intentional or is this DJenks handwaving to move the story along" pot is that the crew apparently didn't check if Ed was breathing. They dealt the blow, then laid his body out and did their best to forget about him.

Until Stede shows up.

I believe this scene is meant to show that the crew is literally chewing on their guilt. They just killed the greatest sailor they knew. He was their friend. This isn't what they wanted to happen, but they felt they had no choice.

And perhaps that's why they didn't check to see if he was breathing. Because they didn't want to look too closely. They didn't want to confront the horror of what happened that night. They just made sure they were out of danger, then closed the door and attempted to move on without dwelling on it. As Frenchie would say, they took the terrible things they saw, put them in a box in their minds, lock the box, and don't open it again.

But then Stede arrives, and they know they're going to have to open the box.

They don't say anything. They just keep chewing on their guilt, as if saying "yeah, we did what we had to do. Who are you to judge?"

But eventually it's all going to come out.

[lovewithkarma]

Can u do parent figure flags with a child reader who has a similar backstory to "My Eyes Deceive" (rblx game btw and plantonic yandere)

My child

Tw: yandere, major mention of SA

The flags were on a mission , apparently there was this guy who got involved with the port mafia. The flags were told that "He stolen some of my antidote's and other medicine" by Mori.

Iceman was able to find out where he lived just by spying on him for less then a day. He got the flags all together and went to the man's house. Iceman was holding a cigarette while chūya kicked down the door.

They heard a man rushing from the basement. He basically ran to them, tripping his on two feet. He felt the eyes of 6 men on him, next moment there was screaming and crying...

Iceman was returning from the car, he locked the trunk so the man couldn't get out

While doc was looking for the medicine he saw the basement door trying to go up. The door was on the floor so Doc kneel down tempted to see what's inside. Right as he was about to open it -he saw a little pair of hands trying to open the basement door.

Pianoman was overlooking doc shoulder. He saw the little hands and was confused. Did he really have a child? Pianoman walked to doc an kneel down.

"Doc, did you just see what I just saw?"

"A child hands? Yeah"

By then all of them flags were around the basement door. Pianoman slowly open the door to see a little child trying to lift the door open.

"What are you doing little one?"

The flags were surprised by seeing a child.  pianoman lift you up and put you close too the flags.

" Dear? Are you alright? "

You seemed to be sensitive to the light as you put your hands over your eyes. That or you were crying.

"What do we do? We can't exactly leave her?"

Chūya Said looking at pianoman.

"Im not sure."

In the end the flags decided on a  plan to take you, clean you up and take you to a orphanage .

Pianoman told albatross to let you wear his sunglasses because of how sensitive you are to the light. As soon as he put his sunglasses on you -you looked confused. Not knowing what to do.

Pianoman lift you up and took you to the car. Pianoman had to calm you down as you cried and cried.

He made it too the car with you crying a little less.

----

Doc was in his office. He was done with checking if you were okay. What he found was horrifying . He then turn to you

"(Name) did your father ever..."

Doc mumbled under his breath

" how could i explain this to a child.. Maybe if gave them a paper..."

Doc handed you a paper of human body parts,asking you to show where your father touch you . When you pointed at the places his face went cold.

" I'll be back"

---

Doc, pianoman and Iceman were talking about what to do with (reader)

Iceman took his cigarette and raised it near his lips

" It's none of my business whenever they goes or stays "

" hm, I think we should let them stay for a bit longer before sending them to the orphanage"

Pianoman looked at doc

" So tell me, how was their exam? "

"It was going good at first, they seemed to be really timid and sensitive to light. However at the end I found something rather.. Disgusting"

Iceman and pianoman both found look at doc

" We found DNA in them "

"Oh, you don't mean-"

"I do. That man who we kidnapped is a child rapist"

" well what do we do now? We can't exactly keep them"

" No but we can keep them till their safe"

-

(Name) has been in the port mafia medical care for days now. Even though they have gotten better (physically ) doc didn't send them out. He claim (name) needed to stay for longer and him being the Port Mafia's Medical Supervisor Doctor medical nobody question him.

It wasn't like you couldn't just lay in peace while albatross was talking non stop to you. You laid there as he talked for hours without end.

At least doc was always there to help, whenever you glance at doc he was quick to kick albatross out.

" Leave the kid alone would ya "

Iceman did come from time to time, he would always bring a gift with him too. Coloring books and anything that didn't cause a mess. He would just be there sitting on the seat as you played.

" ... "

Lippmann was the same as albatross but way more calm. He was always talking about his new shows

" So (name) I got a offer as a -"

Pianoman always had a smile on his face, with a gift too. Usually a homemade one that was beautiful. He was skilled with his hands from what you could tell.

" dear I brought something I made just for you "

While you liked all of the gifts, you wanted to leave. You slowly got up and gently pulled his coat.

" when could I leave?"

"When your back to Heath (name)"

Doc said with a smile

" but I feel perfectly healthy"

" your medical reports doesn't say the same now get back to your bed before I make you take icky medicine"

" awh "

--

While days passed it had almost been a month since you were took by the flags. You wanted to be free and you were sick of the "hospital" so one night you sneak out of the room. All you saw was red walls with beautiful designs. You heard some noises coming from a room.

" We can't let them leave , do you know what doc found out what their father does to them!"

"Yeah, well their father isn't exactly with us right now. But I agree I mean what if they do the same in the orphanage "

" See? Even Lippmann agrees"

"Albatross, you're yelling-"

Pianoman stop his sentence as he heard glass breaking. Pianoman open the door then Everyone went quiet.

"Hello (name)"

[amplifyme]

This may never be completed, but I'm posting it here. Because the muse wants me to. Since she's been so quiet all these months, if she's decided to drop in now and make this edict, I'm gonna listen.

The beginnings of a One Breath fic, aka my albatross...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pause. Rewind. Play. “We should stop.” A hand moving up a glossy white inner thigh. Breathy sighs. Fast-forward. Play. The hand now wedged at the apex between her legs, large male knuckles clearly pressing up beneath the obscenely short skirt she wears, manipulating the hidden treasure there.

The ringing of the phone pulls him from this latest repetition of his bedtime routine. He’s compiling a list of his favorite parts, so he knows what to skip to the next time this tape graces his VCR. He’ll know those jagged segments by heart soon. Then he’ll be able to pull them up and zone out enough to maybe sleep.

He pauses the tape and stretches to reach the phone. He greets his caller with dull indifference. “Yeah?”

There’s a hitch of breath on the other end, soft and feminine, and he drags himself up until he’s sitting. “Hello?”

“Fox, is that you?”

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds before his synapses start to fire with something resembling clarity and he recognizes the voice. “Mrs. Scully?”

“Fox, it’s Dana. She’s back. They’ve brought her back.”

His heart gives a great thud, stops for an instant, and then begins to thump crazily in his chest. He breaks out in a sweat, stammers, “Wha-wha where? Where is she? How-?”

“Northeast Georgetown. In the ICU. I’m with her now.”

“I’m on my way.”

It’s not until he reaches the car that it occurs to him: he has no coat, no badge, no cellphone, just his wallet and keys. He scrapes a dusting of snow from the window of the driver’s door with his arm and slides behind the wheel. He doesn’t remember the drive to the hospital when he tries to recall it later. He doesn’t remember anything from when he first arrives at her hospital bed, except that Scully’s eyes are taped shut and she’s covered in wires and tubes. Her mother’s face reflects anger and worry, bewilderment: the sum total of unanswered questions. He sucks it all into his lungs like rarified air and shouts them out in her stead. 

Why. How. When. What’s happened to her? Who did this to her?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“She doesn’t want to live in this condition.”

He hadn’t given it more than a glancing thought when she’d asked him to sign as witness to her living will shortly before the X-Files division had been shut down. It was just a formality, and more paperwork to sign off on and forget. Nothing that might possibly come back to bite him on the ass. Just a throw-away.

He forces himself to meet Maggie Scully’s eyes. He’s to blame for this. Because his easy acquiescence to what seemed a simple request has morphed into an ill-advised edict to allow her to die. How is he to carry on with this knowledge? Scully is not, and could never be, a throw-away anything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’ve been told not to call you Fox.”

Melissa Scully is not at all what he had imagined, and he takes umbrage at her new age methods, since her sister clearly can’t.

“I need to do more than just wave my hands in the air.” His arm drops to his side, and he turns away. But try as he might, the first words Melissa said to him ring in his ears with proof of something beyond his comprehension.

He turns back and belatedly rebukes her. “She never talked about you,” He doesn’t understand why he feels the need to strike out at her. But someone has to pay the price.

“Probably not,” Melissa responds with an enigmatic smile. “But she talks a lot about you.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“You don't believe... but you want to. You want to believe more than ever.”

He ignores her and goes in search of their mother. Her pain, he understands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Frohike, in a fucking penguin suit and bearing flowers. Branched DNA, a biological poison, and “Mulder, there’s nothing you can do.”  

A gun shoved in his face by a man who is supposed to be his ally. “You got him killed! You got her killed. That’s not going to happen to me.” A different man dead in a basement laundry room, killed execution style.

“I don’t think you have the heart.” It’s a dismissal, a taunt.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No sleep. And he’s so fucking tired. He hasn’t had more than four consecutive hours of sleep since she was taken. No food. Not for as long as he can remember, though his belly is as hollow as his bones. Time has lost meaning. He only leaves her bedside when he has to. The Scully women take their turns while he’s there but don’t seem to have the stomach for his urgently whispered arguments to run just a few more tests, give it just one more day, don’t give up – it’s too soon.

But she’s running out of time and the Scully women are busy in the hospital chapel or covertly waving burning sticks of incense, biding their own time. All three of them are preparing for the change to come. But he feels like the only one who’s fighting for that change to be Scully opening her eyes and coming back where she belongs. He won’t give up, no matter what it costs him. She wouldn’t give up on him.

He has the insane notion to ask Maggie Scully for permission to marry her daughter. If he’s Scully’s husband, maybe he can call the shots. Maybe he can guarantee her more time.

He is falling, falling, falling, and there is no bottom, no end point. The black hole surrounding him has jagged walls that are slick with blood from earlier battles, and he can’t grasp onto anything with enough friction to slow him down.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Karen Ann Quinlan is not a name he wants invoked. The thought of Scully remaining in this condition is distasteful, horrific. How could anyone want that for her? So why can’t he just accept the facts and let her go?

“She was a good soldier, Mulder, but there’s nothing you can do to bring her back.”

Her doctor, portly, balding, and resistant to anything outside the norm, rankles him. Everything does. Even the air he breathes is inhaled with a sense of resentment at its necessity. The worse it gets, the more inwardly absent he becomes, until he feels he’s outside himself. Nothing more than a helpless observer of this unfolding tragedy.

“Dana has made our decision.”

He vacillates between anger and grief, both cutting too painfully deep. Between acceptance of the facts and the rejection of them, so clinical and cold. Who is he fighting for? It is for her, or his need for her? Scully has respected him, always, as he has her. But this, this is too much to ask. And underneath it all, his ceaseless, immeasurable rage, and the need for retribution.

“Fox,” Mrs. Scully stands and readies to push through the swinging doors and over a threshold that can’t be uncrossed, solidifying the decision her words made clear. “This is a moment for the family. But you can join us if you want.”

No, no I can’t, he thinks. I won’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He decides this must be the apex of his anger. At least now it has a focus. That black-lunged sonofabitch is responsible for all of this. He’s certain of it. He offers himself up to Skinner, a willing sacrifice of everything he has left in exchange for his shot at vengeance. Justice. Justice. That’s all he wants. Time is running out.

Why? Why? How did this happen? How could he let this happen?

He stops short on his way out the door, sudden clarity blinding him in its accusation. It’s my fault, too. Skinner is honest enough to concur when he voices his fears, and Mulder is stunned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

No. This is the apex. This is the source of the fire scorching him from the inside out. This man at the end of a gun barrel in this drab and empty room, cloaked in plumes of smoke. Cigarette Man is the one who has to pay. Otherwise, there is no justice.

“Why her? Why her and not me? Answer me!” His finger is steady on the trigger. Four and a half pounds of pressure is all it will take to paint the walls with brain matter. He wants to light the world on fire. Burn it all down. Rebuild a new one from the ashes. A world where Scully is safe. A place where his sister isn’t gone.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a little something about the Doctor. I was thinking something along the lines of the Doctors first kiss with the reader, their first ‘I love you’s, first hugs and maybe like first time opening up to each other to have that bond? Obviously not in that order lol just regular fluff and happiness with the Doctor! Thanks!

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Milestones" - The Doctor x Reader

A/N: written with 11 in mind bc he's my favourite but honestly picture whoever you want

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k

First hug

"Hey, you doing alright?" you asked quietly. Honestly, you knew the question was more than ridiculous - it was just an inelegant, slightly awkward icebreaker after what you've been through. Although it hasn't been long, barely a few hours, you've quickly learned that he was a prodigy at putting on a brave face. Someone so adamant about making sure everyone lives couldn't just brush off the abrupt end of innocent life. It simply didn't make sense.

"Yeah, sure, I'm doing fine," he answered in a reassuring and lighthearted tone. "Are you okay?"

Despite his best efforts at appearing completely unmoved, you could easily tell he was being dishonest - there was that haunted look in his eyes as if the moment he remembers he was an intelligent entity cursed with compassion and melancholy his tears would melt away his corporeal form. It was like capturing a storm in a plastic bag.

His eyes met yours in a questioning manner: he really was more interested in your well-being rather than the albatross hanging from his neck. It was a strange moment to choose selflessness. After a moment of silence, his stare went back to the console and the buttons he was pushing. You continued to watch him, thinking about the hypothetical sorrow gnawing at his thoughts. Maybe you didn't know him for long, it was difficult to claim you'd known him at all but he definitely didn't seem like someone heartless; the Doctor was many things but cold-hearted was not one of them.

The Doctor looked at you again but for a significantly shorter period as if he could tell by your expression that you weren't buying his facade. Consciously or not, his expression fell, revealing the somberness he tried to hide away.

"Come here."

Pulling him by his arm, you engulfed the Doctor in an embrace. Immediately, he tightly held you close to him, his hands fisting the material of your sweatshirt. It was a strange thing that people let go when they're holding on to someone.

"It's not easy, so don't pretend like it is," you quietly said against his shoulder. The tweed jacket was slightly coarse against your skin, pleasantly keeping you aware of the present moment. "You might not be human but you sure are humane. I know that."

He didn't answer but truthfully, he didn't have to - you knew exactly what was going on when his arms shifted around you, still holding you as close as one holds a fleeting dream of a love long gone.

Opening up

The Doctor was fixing something under the main console. Cables dangled around him, sparks of electricity revealed that the current was still on and any unwise move could have catastrophic consequences. He, however, seemed to be unfazed. It was an impression of him you were still getting used to - a man both hot and cold, simultaneously emotional and rid of all passions.

"Do you ever get scared?"

Momentarily, the Doctor stopped whatever it was he was doing. He looked at you with a grimace of confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"You know, running around dangerous places, getting stuck at the end of the world in hopeless situations. Do you ever get scared?"

"Sometimes, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"It's just..." For a moment you considered dropping the subject. Would your worries be a little too human, a little too mundane, for him to understand? "I know I get scared, don't even need aliens for that to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I love travelling with you but so many times I find myself in situations where I don't know what to do, I just want to close my eyes and wish the danger away. If you too get scared then maybe I'm not as wimpy as I thought I was."

"Wimpy?" he asked. You gently nodded your head. "Wimpy?" he repeated louder and with more confusion resounding in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows not understanding what he was getting at. "You're not wimpy, why would you think that?"

"Because I get scared?"

Something about your statement must have struck a significant string in his heart as the Doctor got out from under the console and stood up. His eyebrows were furrowed and you knew that he was adamant to get to the bottom of whatever snake what biting at your heels.

"Scared is good. Scared means you care. You have something to lose. It's very human of you actually."

"When you're scared you never... look scared, at least I can't tell. You just do what you have to do and save the day as if it was just a walk in the park. How do you do that?"

"Because I have something to lose," he answered with a shrug before examining something on the top part of the console. The clicking of buttons echoed throughout the room.

"Which is?"

For a moment he didn't answer and just tapped away on the various controls and keyboards only he could understand. Slowly, his actions came to a halt. The Doctor turned his head to look at you, brave enough only to say one word before going back to fixing some failure in the machinery:

"You." He had that melancholic look in his eyes that he so often wore when he revealed some of his hearts' content. The Doctor's answer surprised you. It seemed so... simple. Mundane to the point of being strange.

Maybe you too had a good reason to both be scared and brave.

First kiss

"You're not actually considering going down there," you said as you looked down the maintenance shaft. It was so dark one could only wonder how far the bottom was. A low groan echoed throughout that seemingly endless metal pit.

"We're kind of out of options. Come on, it's an adventure! I'll be fine."

You weren't sure if his lighthearted mood was a sign of confidence or stupidity - a certain lack of realization of his chances of survival.

"Looks more lik a one way ticket to me."

"Nonsense," he dismissed your worries. "It's just a dead-end road. Have to make a U-turn at the end and you're on your way home. Easy-peasy!"

It was quite clear he wasn't going to negotiate his own plan filled with insanity and a ridiculous amount of sheer luck.

"Just..." you began but promptly stopped, momentarily overwhelmed by the very real possibility of him not coming back. And what were you to do then? A deep sigh left your lips before you finished your thought. "Just come back to me."

Without thinking much, realizing that this could very well be the last time you see that madman, you grabbed his clothes and pulled him in. His lips crashed against yours and the joy this passion brought was very much like fireworks: intense and burning but over a little too soon for the desperate heart to satisfy its yearning. You feel the same longing in his own movements, although it's significantly more reserved as if he was holding back, not yet ready to let the addictive feeling consume him.

"Well, now I have to," he murmured under his breath.

First "I love you"

"Alright, so what do you need?" you asked in a hurried tone. You were running out of time and the alarm siren did not make it any easier to focus on the task at hand. In fact, the longer you were inside the engineering deck, among red emergency lights and deafening sirens, the more you began to panic. The water flooding the ship made you aware of your own mortality with each wave brushing against your legs.

"I'd need another one of those gem things, the internal structure of the crystal makes it an excellent electricity conductor."

"Like... graphite?"

"Yes! Like graphite!"

Suddenly, you became aware of the rumbled sudoku notebook in the back pocket of your jeans. You shoved it in there along with a pencil when the Doctor flew right by you yelling at you to start running. It was fascinating what kind of pastimes travelling with the Doctor made you pick up.

"You're not going to believe this," you told him between chuckles. As if you were pulling a rabbit out of a magician's hat, you showed the pencil to the Doctor.

His face immediately lit up. He grabbed your face before kissing your forehead. "I love you!" the Doctor exclaimed excitedly.

Then he snatched the pencil from your hand and turned around to run in the direction of the engines. The Doctor ran maybe a few meters before making a sudden turn - for some reason, he had to return to you. There was something strange about how he looked at you as if he saw something more than you; like he had life-changing knowledge he never dared to share with you.

"I mean it," he said in a serious tone while vaguely pointing his finger at you.

Before you could answer him or even ask for clarification, he was already back on track with his near-miraculous plan of saving the day.

"Right back at you, you crazy old man," you said under your breath.

[rjmhereunderprotest]

Crossed Paths & Tangled Webs: Why I Ship SpiderCat

This is gonna be a controversial one through no fault of my own... but also it's all my own damn fault. A confusing contradicting statement to be sure, but when you're talking about Peter Parker and Felicia Hardy, that statement seems to ring the most true. Two people who are as perfect for each other as they are imperfect. In love through no fault of their own... and completely at fault for being so.

My poll for another ship to cover picked this... I'm more than happy to talk about it but we're dealing with volatile stuff right now. As I write this, Spider-Man and Black Cat actually ARE in a relationship with each other. Peter has recently stated that he no longer feels romantically for his long-time love-interest, Mary Jane, calling her more akin to a sister. MJ was apparently stuck in some post-apocalyptic Narnia situation where enough time passed for her to have kids with another guy. And if that wasn't enough... Mary Jane may be about to join Gwen Stacey in the fridge, if you get my meaning. As Zeb Wells is teasing the most shocking Spider-Man story since Gwen Stacey's death and the solicits for the story afterwards say Spider-Man is about to suffer a terrible loss. Felicia is on the covers of at least one of those issues. So unless it's a complete fake out and Wells is going to kill off a relationship he has stated he both prefers and spent a ton of time setting up at the expense of the preferred romance among fans... yeah it's not looking good for MJ. I mean he might kill off Aunt May again, but... well there's no guarantees in comics... ever.

This is a strange time period to be a long suffering SpiderCat shipper. I have held a torch for these two for such a long time it feels like almost second nature. I see Felicia, I want to see her with Peter. No one else, man or woman, will do. (Yes she's Bi, shut up, it's canon) Yet right now, a SpiderCat shipper is now writing the Spider-Man books and everyone seems to absolutely hate Zeb Wells' execution of it all. I've gotten what I wanted, at last, but fans are outright rejecting it. Not so much for Felicia and Peter being together mind you, as much as they're annoyed MJ is being thrown under the bus.

Which I get actually, I may have wanted this ship over Peter/MJ, but not at her expense. I don't want her DEAD or badly written. And given how Marvel has basically treated MJ and Peter over the years, it's hard to argue that these reactions are anything but justified. Even decades later, One More Day's shadow still looms large. Marvel has constantly teased and poked and prodded and snickered about the possibility of Mary Jane and Peter Parker becoming an item again. If not married, at the very least dating. But Marvel seems insistent on this point. "The Marriage was a mistake, we're never going back to it. And anything that is even remotely similar to that status quo is not allowed. Ever." The inability of Marvel's Spidey writers to craft a compelling happy marriage between Peter and MJ has been an albatross around the neck of the ship forever! Even when they did it in an ongoing, it had to be a different universe! One where the Civil War comics event wasn't a thing, so that was also a plus. And MJ had to get Spider Powers too in order to smooth over the whole thing for writers.

So, yeah, MJ's been blamed for making Spider-Books dull and kept at arms length from Peter as much as possible. Because if Spider-Man is EVER TOO HAPPY that can only spell DOOM for the character. His world must always revolve around misery. Linkara of AT4W has said it time and again, in the eyes of Marvel, Spider-Man can never be allowed to be happy.

And yet, despite all that, I still hold true to this maxim, Peter Parker and Felicia Hardy are made for each other. If I ever had an OTP, if I ever had a ship I'd die for, if there was ever any romance I was forever evergreen invested in... it was SpiderCat. Despite whatever the world says, that it can't work, that it's a bad idea, that they don't need each other, that it will never be the way Peter/MJ were once... I don't care. I reject all of that and state proudly, without shame, every time that Spider-Man and the Black Cat are and always shall be perfect for each other.

So Let's Talk about Why that is...

Usually I'm inclined to give brief synopsis points about both characters in separate sections. But Spider-Man is so well known and Black Cat so simply explained in their initial set ups it feels almost... pointless. When you can describe at least one half of the shipping dynamic with a theme song from a sixties cartoon it's hard to honestly come up with anything new or original.

So yeah, Peter Parker, nerdy wimp who gets bitten by a radioactive spider, doesn't get cancer from this, but super powers. Thinks about using these great powers to enrich his life, but after letting a criminal get away because it's "not his problem" he learns a harsh lesson about responsibility. His uncle dies at the hands of said criminal, it's all his fault, and Peter proclaims that as long as he has these powers he will use them to help people.

And as a result, Spider-Man is the hero that always gets up because he has to, he needs to. Because people, strangers and loved ones, depend on him. This comes at the cost of a great deal of things that would make him personally happy. Because if Spider-Man is about anything, it's about personal sacrifice and responsibility. It has been a running theme since his first comic and will continue until the heat death of the universe. If you know nothing else of Spider-Man, this is the most important fact about him going forward for the rest of this essay. Spider-Man is Responsibility and Self-Sacrifice Personified. Whenever he doesn't live up to either aspect of himself, bad things happen, to him, to the people he cares about and New York City at large.

On the other side of that coin, Felicia Hardy, aka the Black Cat. Infamous thief. While her origins are more fluid throughout her incarnations, her general story is pretty much the same. Felicia is a thrill seeking thief, who lives for the daredevil rush only a well-executed heist can accomplish. The Black Cat persona is that of a femme fatale thief of the highest order. There's no question that she shares more than a few similarities to Catwoman of Batman fame. Save for the fact she might possess a slight passive power that causes bad luck to her opponents.

Different character of course, but that's just to establish that it is a superpower. Felicia uses it mainly to steal whatever she wants and get away scot-free. She, in general, tries to avoid personal consequences for these actions. While her motives may vary from one story or universe to the next, ultimately her purpose in life is the same. To live for herself, for her needs and how she wants. The Black Cat persona is just that, a means to indulge in her wants and desires to the fullest extent. She is, inherently, self-serving and selfish whereas Spider-Man is selfless.

On the surface this presents a dynamic akin to oil and water. Spider-Man is an avatar of personal responsibility. The Black Cat is the personification of independent self-interest. They are such opposites, such contradictions, that they should just not work. They should be enemies... and that is how they started.

Amazing Spider-Man #194, Black Cat's first appearance where she and Spidey come to blows over her illicit activities. Felicia has contracted a crew for a job to spring her terminally ill father from prison. Spider-Man tries to stop her, only to end up buried under the rubble of the exploding prison wall. Black Cat flees the scene with a quip about crossing her path and Spidey with a bad arm post-fight. The next issue sees Spidey deduce Felicia's real identity and that Felicia only broke her father out so he could spend his dying hours with his wife and her mother. Spidey and Cat come to blows outside arguing over the merits of what she's done. However in the struggle Black Cat starts to fall off a roof into a surging river below. Spidey catches her with his bad arm, trying to stop her fall... but can't hold on as Felicia seemingly falls to her death. He tries to return to the Hardy residence, only to see Felicia's mother in grief over the death of her husband. Not wanting to add to it... Spidey leaves.

Of course, this isn't the end for Felicia, issue #204 sees the Black Cat return. She's actually been watching him it seems, taking photos of him swinging around town. They get reacquainted at the museum where Cat manages to slip away again after another fight with Spider-Man. Felicia is annoyed though that he keeps fighting her, not understanding why she's doing this. And by the next issue it's revealed, the art pieces Felicia stole were meant to symbolize what she thinks of Spidey. Namely, that she has developed a crush on him. No doubt because, despite trouncing him almost every time they've fought, she's clearly enjoyed all of it. And Spidey hasn't exactly helped in that regard as he has routinely flirted with her. He can't help it, she is hot. Felicia claims she wants to leave thieving behind, at the behest of her mother and she would like Spider-Man to help her reform. Seeing a similarity to a current situation with a girl he's instructing, and that Felicia might be suffering a bit of a mental break as a result of her father's death, he promises to get her help.

These introductory stories set the stage for Felicia and Peter's on again off again relationship for years to come. Felicia is self-servingly selfish, desiring things that aren't hers. Yet her motives are more complicated than pure greed, it is always based somewhat around her emotional state. Her need to give her father and mother some closure before she passes, her desire for Spider-Man to lead her out of a life of crime, as per her mother's wishes. She isn't evil, she has noble intent, she just goes about it in very self-centered ways. Spidey, in the meantime, is selfless to a fault. He'll keep chasing her down, he'll keep trying to set her straight, keep trying to stop her crime sprees. He is drawn to her by his selflessness and sense of responsibility to prevent her from just getting away with whatever she wants. But he does genuinely want to help her and he will not take advantage of her fragile emotional state, even if he himself is somewhat into her. Hell, the first thing he thinks about when he first sees her is that he hopes she isn't a criminal because he'd like to ask her out. He is clearly drawn to Felicia, even if it only starts out as pure infatuation, but he will not take advantage of her interest in him because he knows better than to try to exploit that for his own self-interest.

Of course it's a lie, well partially. Felicia faked being crazy to more easily escape a psychiatric hospital than a prison. But she is indeed in love with him. After her escape, she invites Spidey to a masquerade ball via a sky writer. Ultimately revealing that she lied to him about her mental breakdown in a selfish bid to escape consequences for her actions. But she wants to make up for it now, because this masquerade ball is being hosted by mafioso she stole from and says Spidey can now arrest them all! Crime is too easy she thinks, superheroing is her next thrill seeking adventure and she wants to do it with him. And despite being tricked and more than a little bribed into this, Spider-Man decides ultimately why not give it a try? If she really does want to go straight for him... isn't the responsible thing to do with her to help her out even if her motives are a tiny bit selfish?

This is how their romance starts and sets up the ultimate tug of war dynamic. Spider-Man does want Black Cat, but is wary of her desire to push him into a more selfish mindset. Black Cat actually desires Spider-Man, but can't get over her compulsive selfishness. In this story alone she has to sort of trick Spider-Man into coming to a date that's actually a mafioso party that he can break up. It's a highly manipulative plan that appeals to her selfish infatuation and Spider-Man's selfless heroism. It is a constant push and pull between them at multiple points. By all accounts, they should not work and a good deal of comics past this point go on and on about why they can't work.

I could cover the lengthy relationship between both characters throughout the 80s, Spidey was actually dating Felicia for a long time during the Black Suit days, even after he gave up the Symbiote. And for the most part this dynamic does not entirely change. Peter wants to help Black Cat be a better person before he can truly commit to her. Felicia wants to be a better person and make things work with Spider-Man, but she has a hard time wrapping her head around selfless action over selfish indulgence. It's the roadblock between them truly working as a couple. And there are a ton of moments during this time period I could talk about, but frankly, they are ALL before my time.

None of them really prove my point either, all I've done is just explain why their dynamic as a couple is riveting. It's not exactly like Batman and Catwoman's, but its of a similar vein. The key difference is Spider-Man, being who he is, isn't as opposed to the idea at first as Bruce is with Selina. Catwoman plays a lot harder to get for a lot longer than Black Cat, she also doesn't become Batman's superhero partner. Felicia and Peter by contrast are much younger though, so their reasoning is frankly more in line with their age demographic. They're just quicker to jump in than most people. The only thing holding them back is Black Cat and Spidey's diametrically opposed ideologies, even though we'll see those two viewpoints somewhat crisscross soon enough.

If you want to know however where I actually came in on this, we need to hop over to another universe. The one firmly positioned in the decade that defines the pop cultural wasteland... the 90s.

In an effort to compete with DC's Batman cartoon, Marvel fast tracked a Spider-Man show into production. While not on the same technical/narrative level as the landmark Batman: The Animated Series, Spider-Man: The Animated Series still did a tremendous job at capturing the essence of the character and is still a good series in its own. Even on a recent rewatch, I was surprised to see how well-thought out and true to form the series was. Yes, it's overuse of repeated animation and various other shortcuts was annoying, it certainly wasn't perfect, even by 90s standards, but it deserves recognition where it counts. Part of that was, in my opinion, the dynamic between Felicia and Peter Parker/Black Cat and Spider-Man. It certainly wasn't a slamdunk, I'm going to talk about where the writers fumbled it, but when it worked it worked and I think those parts where it worked so well were what cemented the idea in my head that this relationship, fraught as it was, COULD become something everlasting.

There's no hiding that Felicia's story is completely different from the comics. She actually knows Peter to begin with before she even becomes the Black Cat. They actually date for a while and despite the fact Peter is poorer than dirt, she is clearly interested in him and remains so for a good portion of season one. Peter's first kiss in the series is Felicia in fact. Even when MJ is in the picture, Peter is still torn between her and Felicia.

You might think we're dealing with a Betty and Veronica situation, but it never really materializes as such. Felicia and MJ never really meet this early and Felicia herself isn't really the rich girl stereotype. She's not particularly girlish or whinny. She doesn't really look down on anyone for their status. In fact she more often than not tries to rebel against the stereotype. She does a lot of charity work, she shows concern for the good of New York's citizens and she gives credit to those who deserve it, not just because they flatter her. She also gives Peter a lot of chances despite seemingly screwing up with her. She is reluctant at first to go out with him, but is not embarassed to be seen with him. The issue that arises is, from her perspective, Peter is never around when she gets in major trouble... but Spider-Man is. This become important later, but the thing to note is she is still close friends with Peter for a good amount of time and shows an interest in hm.

The only reason Felicia doesn't get with Peter is, again, Peter's terrible luck as a result of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He accidentally stands Felicia up one too many times and she... ugh... ends up falling for Michael Morbius. Yes... that Morbius. No, we're not doing the meme. I only bring it up here because its one of the flaws in the show, Morbius as Felicia's love interest feels so incredibly out of place. It exists purely to prevent Felicia and Peter from getting together because nothing about it works. Morbius is hardly charming, he's somewhat of a creep, he's rude, abrasive and his petty rivalry with Peter just makes him unlikable. Its this petty bullshit rivalry, in fact, that causes Morbius' transformation into a Vampire monster in this continuity. Peter tries to claim responsibility for it because it was caused with his radioactive blood, but Morbius was an asshole and did it to himself. He's at fault and he sucks... pun not intended, not entirely. But because he's doing all this to stop a plague in his home country, and he saves Felicia this one time when Peter doesn't show, we're supposed to buy that she's smitten with him. And I do not buy it. In fact, I'd argue the show's writers didn't even buy it and were somewhat forced to do this so they wouldn't step on the iconic romance with Peter and MJ.

Morbius' subsequent flight into exile, as he basically becomes a mutant bat monster, starts an ongoing subplot with Felicia, the fact she has seemingly terrible luck with men. Early on, after Morbius has left her life, Felicia begins to develop a crush on Spider-Man, as at this point he's been there for her more than most other men in her life, saving her or her mother. Spider-Man, as a result, has become a very huge constant staple in her life, more so than any other man as far she can see. Peter, despite his messy love life, does care for Felicia, and is very quick to jump in to help her whenever she is in trouble. Partially because of his connection to her, partly because he still blames himself for Morbius' transformation. So Peter is spending a lot of time as Spider-Man with Felicia at this point, more so than MJ even who is dating Harry Osborn for a while. As far as Felicia is concerned, Spider-Man has become something akin to a knight in shining armor who is always there for her. She can't help but fall for him.

She reveals this by suddenly kissing him on the balcony, pulling up the mask half-way and everything. Peter, however, says he can't reciprocate, as much as he probably still has feelings for Felicia. He says he can't have a girlfriend though because it would put her in danger. It's bunk of course, he's still trying to be with MJ even though she's currently with Harry, but I imagine it plants an idea in Felicia's head. Regardless, for now she's crestfallen and this leads her into the arms of another man, Jason Phillips Macendale, a rich well to do playboy-type. Even still, she retains her feelings Spider-Man throughout their relationship. There is a scene at a carnival where Jason wins a stuffed Spider for her, which she remarks she finds spiders cute while he acts rather annoyed and jealous over it. Despite the fact she very clearly still wants Spidey to be with her, Felicia does agree to marry Jason when he proposes.

At the engagement party, which Peter attends with MJ as she has dumped Harry at this point, he changes into Spider-Man to spy on the Kingpin and Osborn over some business with the Hobgoblin. Annoyed he has to leave MJ to deal with this problem, he's interrupted by Felicia.

She asks if he's here to wish her good luck and Peter fumbles his words in saying as much. Which leads to this exchange:

Spidey: Do you really love this Jason Phillips guy?

Felicia: And why should you care about that? Unless you got a better offer?

Spidey: (Thoughts) This is crazy, I can't have one girlfriend as Peter Parker and another as Spider-Man! (Speaking) No, I don't... I just want you to be happy.

As Spidey swings away, Felicia mournfully says "So do I." It's a very clear statement, she's settling. Jason is rich and powerful and the person she's expected to marry due to who she is, but she's not really sure about it, or happy. Because the man she wants is currently swinging away. It's obvious that, in Felicia's eyes, she's missing something in her life that makes her happy and Spider-Man seems to be that something. Likewise, Peter, the paragon of self-responsibility, knows he can't abuse his secret identity to cheat on MJ, even though he seems very tempted to admit that he still has feelings for Felicia. But in the end, all he cares about is her happiness and if she can find it in this Jason dude, who is he to ruin that?

Well, he doesn't have to ruin it. Because we find out, shock of all shocks, Jason is the Hobgoblin and the revelation shakes Felicia to her core. The fact that this person she was dating, this man who she decided on because she couldn't have Spider-Man was a fraud, a criminal, a liar... it's a terrible thing to realize how poor your judgment is. Almost reaffirming that this was the wrong choice from the start.

Spidey of course once again comes swinging to her rescue and defeats the Hobgoblin. But Felicia has questions for her former fiancé. Jason relents that he used crime to create everything he is and get everything he has, including her. She's just another possession to him. What she deep down probably feared going into this, why her heart wasn't in this, why she wanted Spider-Man to give her a way out and save her again.

Felicia: I have to know, did you ever really love me?

Jason: I don't know. I love things about you. Your wealth, your beauty, your refinement.

Felicia: That's not love! I've experienced true love... and it's nothing like that.

And we don't get a flashback to Morbius, as this show constantly does because it's very not subtle, we don't see her talk about bat boy at all. She looks directly at Spider-Man as she says this and the camera zooms in on him as she speaks those words. This overtly informs the audience what love means in Felicia's mind. Love in Felicia's mind is being there for someone, who Spider-Man has been for a long time now. And more importantly, it's about wanting that person to be happy, which was all Spider-Man said he ever wanted. Spidey never asked anything of Felicia, he was just there for her and perhaps, in Felicia's mind, the reason he can't return it is because she can't be there in the same way. She is after all a damsel who he needs to keep saving and Spider-Man made it an issue that they can't be together because she'd be in danger.

In fact, this incident has given Felicia a complex that alludes to her future. "Every time I give my heart to someone, disaster strikes!" She sobs to Spider-Man. "I'm like a Black Cat spreading bad luck to everyone who crosses my path! Including my own."

By the next season things have taken a turn for the tragic, Mary Jane has vanished into realms unknown after mirroring Gwen Stacey's fall from a bridge into an interdimensional portal. As far as Peter knows though she's just gone, maybe forever. They can't say dead on this show, you know how it is.

This would probably leave the door back open for Felicia, but Peter is in no mental condition for another relationship right now and Felicia is smitten with Spider-Man, not Peter. Although he does wonder if she could help him with his grief as he swings over to her apartment. Not to say she doesn't care for Peter, but her heart belongs to his masked vigilante persona. In fact, so much so that she proclaims that Spider-Man is the only good thing in her life during that same visit. (Granted this is after an attack by Doctor Octopus, but the point stands) It's obvious that Felicia is now clinging to Spider-Man as one of the few constants in her life at this point, what with repeatedly being placed in danger by monsters and maniacs. The lack of control and helplessness is eating at her terribly.

However, this does lead into what we've all been waiting for, Felicia's transformation into the Black Cat and the start of the multi-episode season storyline, "Partners in Danger."

Felicia's father isn't just a cat burglar anymore. It turns out he got a peek at the formula for the Super Soldier serum back in WW2. He was almost tricked into giving it to the Nazis but managed to evade them. He was a kid at the time and was on the run for several decades. He's been in SHIELD custody for the past few years, until now when the Chameleon breaks him out only to hand him over to the Kingpin. Soon after, Doctor Octopus kidnaps Felicia and brings him to Fisk to reunite her with her father. And basically blackmail her into performing crimes for Fisk to test out the Super Soldier formula.

Yes, the Black Cat in the 90s Animated Series is basically a super soldier thief. It is suggested its not a complete process, but it grants Felicia more capability than she used to have. As the Black Cat she's now stronger, faster, more agile, versatile and has heightened senses. She's basically a mini-Captain America sans shield and a less patriotic aesthetic. Also, the Serum allows her to completely alter herself, her hair turns white and grows longer, while she also becomes more ripped and taller. This is so people won't really recognize her, an important detail for later.

While it's obvious Felicia hates being forced to go along with this to protect her father, she doesn't hate the new powers she's been granted and seeks to use them to eventually turn the tables on Fisk and save her dad. However, for the time being she gets in more than a few scrapes with Spider-Man, one of which leaves him knocked out in front of her. She considers pulling off his mask, but decides against it, preferring him to do it for her himself. She does plant a kiss though, the first of many as the Black Cat. The sequence is clear, Felicia is no longer the damsel but Spider-Man's equal and she hopes that this means things can change.

True, Felicia still gets into trouble and Spider-Man has to save her before the episode is out, but they actually do come together as partners by the end and effectively work together to defeat Fisk and save her father. Sadly, he has to return to SHIELD custody, of his own free will, to prevent the secrets he knows from ever getting out. I'd kinda like to to think they would give him a more witness protection situation than imprisonment for the guy, even if he did become a thief. It's SHIELD though, it's kinda expected they don't always do the sensible thing.

However this sets up the dynamic for the next few episodes as Black Cat and Spider-Man work together more and more. Spider-Man is reluctant at first, still mourning Mary Jane, but Black Cat manages to shake him out of that stupor. Reminding him not to close himself off in his grief. And Spidey himself remarks, as he and Black Cat work together, that he's actually having fun for once as Spider-Man. This is something to keep in mind, Black Cat actually challenges Spider-Man more often than not throughout their time together. Pushing him to remember why he does this job, stopping his pity parties cold, reminding him to not see his power as a burden that he so often does and as a gift he uses to help people. Even if she's not the same self-serving Felicia from the comics, as the Black Cat she embraces the liberated self her persona grants her. She's finally being able to do the things that her position as a rich socialite kept from her. Her stance is that Spider-Man can afford to think about what he wants and what makes him happy as much as his own responsibilities.

Frankly, it gets through to Peter. As time goes on, Spider-Man becomes more receptive to the idea that he should move on from MJ and be with Black Cat, a fellow crime fighter, on his level who can look after herself as much as him. This has been the problem Spider-Man has faced for a while, being able to protect the people he cares about despite his powers seemingly always getting in the way. In the same vein, Felicia's newfound abilities enable her to be Spidey's equal. Allowing her the opportunity to see him as a person and not just the superhero who saves her. This gives her the ability to challenge, as well as compliment him, as pointed out.

Their dynamic frankly rings more true and honest as a relationship. Even MJ never pushed Peter in the same way Black Cat pushes Spidey to be better. That's not to say MJ was a bad girlfriend, but on the show... she frankly resembled the comics version of Gwen Stacey personality wise. Black Cat may have been in love with Spider-Man, but that never stopped her from telling him off when he got something wrong. She had her own opinions and views on how this relationship worked and despite clashing with Spidey, they always seemed to be getting closer and more intimate every time she crossed his path.

That is until the goddamn Vampire comes back and ruins it all, because Felicia still has feelings for Morbius, I guess. In fact, he comes back so soon and suddenly, just as Peter is thinking of committing to Black Cat as Spider-Man, that it again feels like a mandate from on high. They're getting too close to each other, we can't have that, break them up by making Morbius a thing again. And quite frankly it feels forced because the only thing that seemingly prevents Spidey and Cat from sealing the deal is that neither of them have guessed at who the other is.

This is despite the fact that the Black Cat is obviously Felicia, given her very close relationship with Felicia's father that she doesn't even try to hide at all during her introductory episode. But Spidey has been consistently dense when it comes to secret identities, he couldn't even figure out Matt Murdock and Daredevil were the same person under similar circumstances. Using excuses THAT HE HIMSELF USES to cover his ass as Spider-Man. For being so smart, Peter is incredibly slow on the uptake when it comes to guessing Black Cat's identity despite how damn obvious it is. Not that Felicia is honestly much better, as both before and after this there are a number of clues to Spidey's true identity. Like... she kissed Peter AS Peter, she should know that mouth!

But the fact is, and this is where the forced editorial mandate thing comes in, that if they ever found out who the other was... that would be the end for any possible Peter and MJ relationship at this point. Felicia would finally realize why Peter seemed to never be around when she was in trouble, it's because he was Spider-Man. And given that Felicia's reasoning for being in love with Spider-Man is, again, the fact she feels he's always been there for her, she'd realize her most long standing intimate REAL relationship was with Peter all along! Peter in turn would realize that Felicia, the girl he first had a crush on, the one he was most conflicted about getting with before MJ vanished, a person he still has strong feelings for, is also the person who taught him to love again after MJ vanished. A friend he cares about who is now on his level and has also been there for him! There would be no way they couldn't get together at that point, or at the very least it would be very hard for Peter to decide between her and MJ from then on.

But no, the adventure with the returned Morbius leads to Felicia deciding to go with the creep Mutant Vampire and Blade to hunt other vampires and leave Spider-Man behind, just as he was about to be with her. Of course, Peter doesn't put two and two together that Cat is leaving with Morbius because as established he's an idiot when it comes to this stuff. If he was smarter, he'd have figured it out right now and probably revealed himself to her, and that would create a conflict and probably make her question this frankly boneheaded and nonsensical decision. So no, Felicia and Peter never find out each other's secret identities and she goes off with Morbius leaving Peter alone for no really good reason other than this felt like the fastest way to break them up so MJ could slide back in.

And MJ does slide back in, not long after this episode in fact and Spider-Man quickly fast tracks to proposing to her, revealing his secret identity, the works. However, Felicia isn't out of his life as MJ still keeps getting into trouble, constantly. At the wedding, Black Cat returns to make sure Peter's big day doesn't get ruined, because she does care about Peter even if she isn't with him. She does this again when MJ is seemingly kidnapped, first comforting Peter as Felicia reassuring him during a moment of hopelessness and then becoming Black Cat again to track down MJ for Peter.

And she admits aloud that she's doing this because she doesn't think she made the right call to follow Morbius and Blade, she still has feelings for Spidey, even though he's loyal and committed to MJ. Again, Felicia does not put two and two together given how gung-ho Spidey is for finding MJ. This also marks the only time MJ and the Black Cat meet, it's very quick, Peter has to answer a few obvious questions. After all that, Felicia decides to head back to Transylvania and once again Peter doesn't put two and two together that Felicia and Black Cat are back in town right at the same time. Because he's stupid like that.

What's important to note is that Felicia will drop everything for Peter, which suggests to me, on some subconscious level, she knows who Spider-Man is. And the fact she's still playing mental support coach to Peter, even outside of their secret identities, speaks volumes for their bond and connection. Even outside of the Black Cat persona and without directly knowing it, Felicia is there for Spider-Man when he needs her, just as much as he was for her.

But of course, all of this is for naught concerning Mary Jane's fate. Because... this is not Mary Jane. This hasn't been Mary Jane since she returned at the end of last season and conclusion of "Partners in Danger." Because we've been doing a random ass Clone Saga deal this whole time! This MJ, the one Peter married, shared his secrets with, probably most likely banged... wasn't his MJ. She was a clone created by Miles Warren who can use frickin water powers like Hydro Man because Hydro Man is an asshole ex who is obsessed with MJ and wanted his own version of her. But she wandered off, blah blah blah, point is her clone stability is breaking down and she's gonna evaporate. Cue one of the most gut wrenching screams in animation history.

So yeah, Peter never got the real Mary Jane back, only to be set up for heartache all over again. One could argue he probably loved this Mary Jane more. Sure he thought she was the original, but everything he experienced with her were steps he was unwilling to take with the real one. Similar to how Felicia has been feeling conflicted, one has to imagine Peter is even more so at this point on several other levels. Not that he has much time to mourn though. Madame Web has returned after a long absence from the series and she has war for him to fight, a Secret War.

In a very loose adaptation of the original Marvel Comics Event, Spider-Man is tasked by the Beyonder to lead a team of superheroes to liberate a planet that has fallen to villains he's plucked from Earth. This becomes a bit of a crossover between pretty much every Fox Entertainment Marvel Cartoon running at the time. From X-Men to Iron Man to the Fantastic Four, not Hulk though, Hulk rights are always a problem. But even after he's picked all the heroes he can afford to recruit, like any Gamer he can't resist modding shit to give him more stuff. And of all the heroes and allies he could pick to increase his ranks... he chooses the Black Cat.

It's a fairly odd choice honestly. Spidey has worked with a lot of heroes, maybe not as extensively as the Black Cat, but he's fought beside Doctor Strange, he knows other X-Men who are on Storm's level or at least just as capable. But he picks Black Cat. He picks her despite knowing that Madame Web knows the Real Mary Jane's location and promises it as a reward if he helps her. He picks Black Cat, despite knowing she is currently with Morbius and Blade. Makes one wonder... why?

Felicia isn't happy with this herself, because she just got pulled away in the middle of a vampire slaying fight. Don't worry, they're fine. It's Blade he'll manage without her.

...

What? Oh Morbius, yeah I guess he'll survive too just by being in close proximity to Blade. Have I mentioned I hate Morbius?

Anyway, the point is Black Cat is none too happy get pulled into Spidey's adventures against her will, like he can just do that on a whim. She's kinda right to be angry at him and she is for a good portion of the episode. When Spidey explains he picked her because he needs her support and they work good as a team, Felicia rightly says that he can't just rip her away from things because he needs to hold her hand. She'll be more than willing to do so on her own, he doesn't need to ask, he just shouldn't force her. It's a surprising role reversal, with Spider-Man being a bit more selfish than usual and Black Cat outwardly demanding to know when Spider-Man is gonna grow up. A question many comics fans wonder themselves to this day.

Spider-Man's ultimate ulterior motives are a bit more obvious though when he gets pretty jealous over Captain America and Black Cat bonding over her having the super soldier serum. And it doesn't help that Cap keeps kinda outshining him constantly when he saves Felicia a few times. But to be fair, Steve Rogers does that with everyone.

After the mission that topples the Red Skull ends, Spidey does apologize for taking Felicia against her will into this war. But she's no longer angry. Taking part in a mission bigger than even vampire slaying is important, a big deal, and if there is one thing Felicia has wanted its to not be left out of a fight for something bigger than herself. Plus, she get's to do it beside the greatest hero of all time. Spidey thinks she means Cap, but she corrects him, she's talking about the Web Head. Despite not being as perfect as Captain America, Spider-Man did prove himself out there as a leader to her and she admits she wouldn't want to miss this action with him for anything. Despite not wanting to be here initially, Felicia ultimately can't get over the fact Spider-Man wanted HER here with him. And given their last meeting had him coldly rejecting her advances, it says to Felicia that Spidey still feels for her and she clearly does too. Black Cat then kisses Spider-Man... and it's the last kiss he'll ever receive in the series. That's right, Peter's first and last kisses on this show come from Felicia. How do you not expect anyone to read into that?

No matter what lame line Morbius tries to give at the end of the episode, Felicia's heart doesn't really belong to him. It is very evident, crystal clear, painfully obvious, to anyone paying attention, that Felicia and Peter, on this series at the very least, were specially connected. Maybe not at first, but Felicia became someone who could match Spider-Man, physically and mentally, in many ways. And it's undeniable that, regardless of anything else, Peter held feelings for both Felicia and her Super Thief persona. Their banter was perfect, their partnership was top notch, the chemistry was amazing. The only thing keeping them apart was a story writing mandate from on high that they could not be endgame. Even though the writers took every chance they could nab to put them together. To shove Felicia back into Peter's life, even after she went off Slaying it up with Morbius. When I rewatched the series, it became painfully obvious who the writers seemed to prefer Peter with. None of this is to knock MJ as a character, on this show or in the comics, but it's hard for me to buy that there wasn't some kind of bias towards Felicia given everything that happens in this show.

Or maybe they just wanted an excuse to keep bringing Jennifer Hale back, I don't know! But I still choose to think that someone on that writing staff wanted a different endgame. It's been known to happen, creative teams aren't immune to shipping. Avatar the Last Airbender apparently had an ongoing tug of war between the executive producers and some of the writers over whether Katara would pick Zuko or Aang. It honestly feels like something similar happened here and as a result it comes across as the best evidence in my mind that this relationship could work. And the insane reality that less than a decade after Spider-Man TAS concluded, a show that did everything to ensure Spider-Man never got with the Black Cat because Peter/MJ were too iconic to not happen... One More Day drops and Peter has barely been with MJ for more than a single run out of several writers since. Said single writer being Nick Spencer, the Hydra Cap guy! Possibly in an effort to redeem himself from being the Hydra Cap Guy.

But I digress, as one can plainly see concerning this short retrospective of the series above, the 90s Cartoon has been over for a long time. Next year, it will be thirty years old. I can point out how it could've worked in that show, but that does nothing to prove Felicia and Peter ever have a chance now. All it shows is that I have a nostalgic attachment to this pairing because of an animated series. One with a highly different set of canonical circumstances between Spidey and the Black Cat that were crafted uniquely for this show alone. Circumstances that are worlds apart from the comics.

And that's because, as loathe as I am to admit it, Peter and Felicia's relationship has always had roadblocks in every piece of media involving them before and since. And I would be remiss if I didn't address any of those before I can start proving its viability now. If I don't I'll just have to do it later anyway. We'll look at how SpiderCat appears in other works as we go through this, but we need to head back to comic book land if we're really going to lay down what's actually keeping these two apart, and it's not the very weak contrivances preventing them from figuring out the obvious like in the 90s cartoon. No, it goes deeper than that. As you can see here.

90s Felicia wanted Spidey to unmask for her, but Comics!Felicia has had a hang up about that for a long while. This is the crux, the problem, with their relationship. The thing that always comes up when SpiderCat shippers argue for it. Comics!Black Cat loves Spider-Man... not Peter Parker. And mixing the two is too much for her to bare. This is what put strain on their relationship, Felicia didn't want her fantasy ruined by knowing the man behind the mask. Peter being an ordinary guy shatters her illusions about his prowess and ability. The phrase "Anyone can wear the mask" comes to mind and as long as Peter wears it for the Black Cat that is true. Take it off and Peter's normality leaks into things.

As a result, the main problem is Felicia can't love a man like Peter, who has a normal life outside of his superheroing. Felicia doesn't want normal, she likes what she is, who she is, doesn't want to go back to it. She wants to be the Black Cat because as the Cat she can do and get whatever she wants. Peter is, again, weighed down by responsibilities. While Felicia, once again, desires her independence from everything, including responsibility. Felicia would rather Spider-Man give up being Peter and just be the hero who swept her off her feet full time. To forever chase her across the rooftops and do what they want whenever they want. She's fine if that means fighting bad guys... so long as they're not tied down to normality. But Peter can't do that, he can never do that, not as long as he has ties to his life as Peter. And that's probably why Wells is considering severing a pretty big tie to that in order to make sure SpiderCat can't be reversed so easily. Can't really blame him for that though, given how comics are in constant flux. (Remember This)

This sort of issue is constantly reinforced. In the Spider-Man 2 video game, based off the Sam Raimi sequel, The "Spidey's loss of his powers" sub-plot is replaced by Black Cat trying to seduce him away into forever crime-fighting as his relationship with Mary Jane becomes strained due to her upcoming marriage to Jonah Jameson's son. Their dynamic matches the comics pretty well... and that means Spidey eventually breaks it off with her, saying he can't abandon his real life to forever play superhero with her. He needs a balance and that means he can't see her anymore. She leaves amicably, but it's sad to see happen.

In the Spider-Man: Web of Shadows game, Black Cat is revealed to still have feelings for Spider-Man and wants to be back together with him. This is pretty bad timing given the symbiote invasion going on. As the game is using the then popular trend of multiple choice endings there is one where you can have Black Cat be with Spider-Man at the end. It requires you basically healing her after a fight with your black suit, turning her into a Venomized version of herself. You can still pick the good ending after this where you defeat the Symbiotes, but all you know for sure is that MJ and him are on quits. You only see Felicia again if you pick the bad ending where Spider-Man breaks bad fully and decides to lead a symbiote army with Felicia by his side. Further emphasizing the idea that Peter can't pick being with Felicia without abandoning everything that makes him who he is.

There's also Spectacular Spider-Man, the other beloved Spider-Man animated series. Shorter-lived, but just as impactful. Where Spidey and Black Cat seem to hit it off during the start of Peter's whole symbiote storyline. Their banter is great, the chemistry fits, Felicia and Pete seem destined to be star-crossed opposite sides of the law lovers. However, when they meet up again Felicia is breaking her father out as she usually does... but the twist this time is Felicia's father is the one who shot Uncle Ben.

Naturally this completely wrecks any goodwill concerning Black Cat and Spidey's second meeting. As from here on out he's adamant Felicia's dad is not getting out. While it turns out Dad doesn't want to leave either and he decides to sacrifice his chance at freedom to stop a mass jailbreak of supervillains, that changes little. Spider-Man does not forgive Felicia's father and Felicia blames Spider-Man for infecting her dad with sentimentality. Even knowing he took an innocent life, all Felicia sees is her dad rotting away in jail. She declares she'll never forgive Spider-Man for this and rushes off in anger. The series ended shortly thereafter and this was never resolved. Greg Weisman, the show's creator, says if it had continued the relationship would've been "fraught." And once again this is the typical line concerning the fact Felicia's selfish desires run up against Spider-Man's heroic responsibility. And letting a criminal get away, especially one that killed his Uncle, is just something he can't do.

And I could go on, there are a ton of examples of this very problematic element of the relationship. It's the thing Marvel has consistently used to explain why Peter and Felicia aren't the right fit. Any romance would require either character to make sacrifices they are incapable of. Namely Felicia's independence and Peter's Responsibilities. Marvel itself decided to set this in stone to a degree with the usual question they ask... "What If?"

"What if... Spider-Man Married the Black Cat?" is the second part of a longer What If storyline answering what would happen if Peter and MJ did not get married. (HA! After OMD, one cannot help but laugh!) And as much as that cover paints wedded bliss... it's anything but. Felicia and Peter come to blows repeatedly, unable to reconcile their differences. Their goals are far too distant from each other overall and they just can't find common ground. By the end of the issue, Felicia lies dead, Spider-Man heart broken and the grim reality that this romance could never work is cemented in stone it seems. "What Ifs" aren't definitive statements about the only possible outcomes for the Marvel universe. But they are definitive statements from Marvel itself, a decree from on high that the current continuity, for all its faults, could be so much worse and we should be happy for what we have. And while the issue is loaded with nice panels that any SpiderCat fan would adore, the end result is still plain as day. Felicia and Peter are too oil and water to ever mix. And the end result would be the destruction of one or both.

How do you overcome the dreadful reality that your ship is declared doomed forever by the very company that in some sense set it in motion? Not just because Spider-Man can never be happy, but because the Black Cat is just too toxic a girlfriend to ever truly make him happy. Everyone argued that MJ and Peter's marriage was boring but they didn't want him to get with the next best option either because they think it's non-compatible, that they're just too different and of opposing thoughts to ever reach common ground.

And Marvel has tried to permanently set that in stone in canon once. To forever place SpiderCat as beyond possible, to sever their connection as decades long allies... and all because of an octopus in the brain.

The image above is not that of Peter Parker fighting the Black Cat. This is Doctor Otto Octavius, piloting Peter's body after jacking his mind. This is the Superior Spider-Man, and he does not care about Peter's past infatuations. He's here to prove he's the better Spider-Man and that means apprehending all criminals. In an otherwise re-affirming storyline that proves Peter Parker is the true Superior Spider-Man, Otto failing to live up to his lofty ambitious boasts, this scene... this one bloody scene, leads to the absolute low point period for all SpiderCat Fans. I call it the "Bitch Be Crazy" Era, an offensive title for a frankly offensively disgusting sub-plot in the Spider Run post-Superior.

Peter Parker informs all his Superhero buddies that Doc Ock had taken over his body for a long time, explaining his shitty behavior for the past year or so. Most everyone's response is "Oh, yeah, that's obvious in hindsight." Not Felicia.

The tables have turned, now Felicia has broke bad, but for real. And there is no way to describe what she becomes but extremely out of character. She doesn't accept Spider-Man's explanation, she doesn't even care. She is now obsessed with becoming the next Kingpin of Crime, a murderous, merciless mob boss who pulls the strings of supervillains, all in a bid to destroy Spider-Man and all he holds dear and it's absolutely, completely, stupidly, idiotically terrible. No matter how selfish Felicia can be, this is NOT her. Felicia has never shown any desire to be a crime boss, to be feared. Her desires have always been thrill seeking, shiny things and not being told what she can and can't do. She might be violent, but she is not a cold-blooded killer. She might be cynical, but she is not this petty. Every element of this terrible subplot makes no sense unless she's absolutely lost her mind or been replaced by a Skrull.

The only fun thing in this whole mess, was that Gwenpool's first in-universe story took place during this sub-plot and she crossed paths with her. And then did this.

I guess that justifies putting a Gwenpool tag below somewhere. Win for me!

Suffice to say, no one liked this change. Everyone hated it, even more than Superior Spider-Man. People came around on that, no one liked Felicia the Big Black Cat of Crime. Dan Slott could never justify it because it made no sense that Felicia would care this much about street cred because Spider-Man beat her up. As if there isn't a single crook in New York at this point who can claim Spider-Man hasn't knocked out one of their teeth. Others tried to explain it, to give it a more sensible face. There was an explanation in the Silk comic, but it didn't really stick as something that would drive her to this extreme. Regardless, it was a dark time for SpiderCat Shipping Fandom. And it took way longer than it should've to fix it all.

But it did get fixed and that brings me the counter to ALL of this stuff that stands in Peter and Felicia's way. And that is that no matter how much things stay the same, comics always inevitably change and so do the characters in them. We like to pretend that the way we see a lot of the characters in comics now has just always been them. But no, they're not. Batman used to carry a gun in his early days, Superman didn't always fly, Captain America, a WW2 Veteran, claimed he never killed anyone for a short time, Deadpool didn't always break the 4th Wall and Starlord used to be a lot more of a straight edged serious space hero and not a rock music lovin' dancin' fool of a rogue Han Solo. Tastes change, writers change, people change... and so has Felicia.

Felicia hasn't always been honest with Peter, she's tricked him into chasing her, played him to get away with a score, gotten superpowers from Kingpin in an effort to keep up with him which led to their first break up, she even dated Flash Thompson trying to make him jealous. But if one thing has been consistent, it's that Felicia can't help but cross back into Peter's life. And in the process, because she cares, even loves him, there are things she's had to accept, to admit to. And chief among them is Peter Parker is Spider-Man and Peter Parker's life is as if not more important to him than just being Spider-Man. She hasn't only loved Spider-Man for years at this point, for a long time. She loves both. and she is willing to accept both. If there is any problem, it's Peter accepting Felicia for who she is... which is a better person than even she gives herself credit for.

Spider-Man wouldn't be partnering up with Felicia so often if he didn't believe there was more to her than just a shallow thief. And the influence has affected Felicia, she's admitted as much. Maybe her shift to doing good was set off by a crush, but she owned that change and she kept pushing herself. She'll never have a strict moral compass, but she does know what the right choice is at the end of the day, what feels right. And when Spider-Man needs an ally, he can call on her as much as anyone. Spider-Man being in her life has only been a net positive for Felicia, Peter being with her has only been a net positive. And that brings us back to her time as a lame crime boss and how they fixed her. Because there's a better, deeper, actually meaningful reason for their schism besides Felicia's loss of street cred.

She forgot the man she loved and changed for.

Yep, we're factoring One More Day into this thing proper like. After an adventure with Venom and Spidey, dealing with some symbiote nonsense, Felicia is convinced to hash it out with the Wall Crawler. And she admits to him that she lost something, his face. When Spider-Man made the world forget who he was under the mask it affected Felicia too. All her memories, all the time spent with Peter post reveal, everything that she knew about the man behind the mask... it was either gone or in a fog. She can't remember all those times that Peter trusted her with who he was and it has been eating her up inside for years! And Spider-Man never thought about how that would affect her, a person he's loved, been intimate with, and at least now cares about. That was an important time in her life and it's just gone now. And it may be selfish to want all of it back and even demand it back... but she's right. Those memories were hers and Spidey took them away. And Spider-Man, being selfless as he is, can't just let that stand anymore.

Everyone says Felicia only loves Spider-Man, but that's not true. She may love the Spider... but she changed for the Man. She cherishes that time she had with that Man. And it's hard to believe that she doesn't love the Man as much as the Spider because, ultimately, they are the same person. That's the other difference between this and Bruce/Selina. Bruce Wayne is the mask for the boy who died in that alleyway, Batman is who he's been since that day. Peter and Spider-Man are the same person, it's why he can't leave either persona behind. And Felicia has long since accepted that, and that has never changed how she feels about him until she lost who he was beneath the mask. Now it's all back, the highs and lows of that tumultuous time in her life when she fell for a Spider and came to love the Man. It doesn't heal everything, but it repairs the bond that was broken so long ago and so unintentionally.

There is, however, another argument being floated around these days I have to address. That even if Felicia can accept the man beneath the mask, do either really NEED each other? I'd point to all the stuff above that shows how that's simply not true, but there's more to it than that. Love isn't always about what you need, it's just as much about what you want. And I'm not talking about a person or thing, not something material. What does Felicia want? What does Peter want?

Felicia wants to be more than what she is, always has been. She wants thrills, she wants to be her true self and I feel Spider-Man brings out those qualities more than any of her other boy or girlfriends, especially since he started her path to change and growth. She stops being selfish and reacts more selfless. His influence on her is undeniable and she knows as much as anyone. She'll never be a good girl, but she'll at least be a better one than she is without him in her life.

Peter wants to be at peace, to be happy with who he is, to not always feel burdened. Felicia has always been one of the ways he's released that burden, he's been happy with her. Sure he's been happy with others, but Felicia has met him on a level that none of them could, she's been able to be in the thick of it with him. She's been able to share the burden. She's been able to be an active participant. With her around, Peter's world as a superhero doesn't feel so lonely. And maybe, if Felicia could accept the man as much as it seems she has, so too could she accept Peter's regular life.

In Taylor Swift's song, Anti-Hero, she reflects on how exhausting for her it's been that she hasn't seemed to learn anything and keeps making the same mistakes over and over. And if you pay attention to the lyics enough, they start describing Felicia Hardy pretty well.

I should not be left to my own devices They come with prices and vices I end up in crisis (tale as old as time) I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'Cause you got tired of my scheming (For the last time)

However, just as much of it can sorta apply to Spider-Man as well. His heroic selflessness is frankly a very long depressing slog of him being unable to forgive himself for letting down Uncle Ben, placing all the blame on his shoulders and then repeating that process whenever his great power can never live up to his great responsibility.

Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time) I wake up screaming from dreaming One day I'll watch as you're leaving And life will lose all its meaning (For the last time)

When it comes to Spider-Man and the Black Cat, a lot of the things that make them unhappy are self-inflicted. Lewis Lovhaug of "Atop the Fourth Wall" Fame has argued that the problem with Spider-Man in a lot of modern stories is that he never learns from anything. He hasn't done enough to improve himself as Spider-Man or as Peter Parker, he just keeps feeling sorry for himself that one gets in the way of the other. And frankly, the same curse has affected Felicia. Because a lot of what has prevented her from being with Spider-Man has been herself. Ultimately both will, as the song says, always look towards the bright sun of what they think they want, but never in the mirror. They'll hurt themselves, never realizing that they're the source of their own dissatisfaction with how their lives are. It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero, especially when its yourself.

Maybe Peter and Felicia don't need each other, but they do need someone to set them straight and get them to stop believing their own bullshit. To make them stare away from the sun and into the mirror. Because they are each exactly the kind of person who would do that for the other, in fact they've been doing it for as long as they've been together. Their bond is stronger than people give it credit for.

Early on in their relationship, Black Cat was badly injured and has to be rushed to a hospital. Helpless to really do anything, Peter could only stand by her bedside and hope she'd be okay again. For all his power, once more, he can't do anything but just stay with her. And actually, that's enough.

But come now, would Felicia ever do the same for Peter you ask? Well... during a recent story event, Spider-Man was badly injured and slips into a coma. But there was one person constantly by his side throughout it.

This isn't derogatory, Felicia is clearly lamenting the fact that someone so good who does everything so selflessly despite no thanks or praise, is so constantly placed into situations like this. It's unfair to her. It's why she's here now, like he was for her. And just like before...

It's Felicia who gets the first response out of him. Claim all you want that Felicia doesn't need Peter, that she's moved past him, that Peter and MJ are too perfect for each other, that the Black Cat can't ever settle down like Peter probably wants or that Peter can never really be there for Felicia in the way she wants. But I don't buy it. And stuff like this is why.

No matter how much bad luck she is, Spider-Man wants and in some ways needs the Black Cat is in his life. And no matter how much she can try and say she's over it, The Black Cat will always find a way to cross paths with her Spider.

In the recent PS4 Spider-Man game, Felicia came back after a stint of going straight to prepare for a major strike back against Hammerhead and the Maggia families. She coerces Spider-Man into another of her games where she steals $50 Million worth of stuff and forces him to chase her around the city to find it all. She leaves the loot behind though, because it was all trick to break into the police evidence lockup and snag her old gear. But she did leave Peter a cool new suit, a reference to the time when Felicia made a new black suit for Peter after giving up his symbiote. You know, so they match.

Felicia's little game comes to fruition when "The Heist" DLC comes out. Felicia strings Spidey along, pretending Hammerhead has her son, strongly implying its his. Ultimately this is revealed to have been a lie of course, another game. Because this, to Felicia, is basically the perfect date night. Spider-Man chases her, they team up, she gets what she wants and runs off into the night. In this case the entire wealth of the Maggia after double crossing Hammerhead. This gets a target on her back instantly. Spider calls her to warn her, leaving Felicia more than a little surprised.

Felicia: I just conned you and here you are trying to save me. How can you be so damn nice all the time?

Spidey: It's not about being nice, it's about doing the right thing! You have so many talents, I wish you'd use them to help someone other than yourself.

Felicia: Yeah well, you should know by now that's not how I roll.

Spidey: People can change, Felicia.

Felicia: Love you, Spider. I'll miss you.

Felicia's penthouse explodes and she appears to die. But eagle eyed players would notice the puff smoke just before the bomb goes off. The Black Cat fakes her death more than Doctor Doom uses robots. Felicia got away, scot-free, with all the money she could ever need or want. She conned Spider-Man, Hammerhead and everyone. She won hands down and can do whatever she wants from now on. No one will be looking for her. Hammerhead's plans to utilize weapons of war to take over the city isn't her problem.

And yet...

Felicia comes back to help Spider-Man, knowing it will basically put her on the radar again given everything she's stolen. She doesn't stay, but she saves him and gives him the means to take Hammerhead down. No matter what anyone thinks of Felicia, especially herself, she is not nearly as incapable of being selfless as one thinks. And this is true of most of her incarnations. Perhaps because the Black Cat will do anything to get what she wants, even if it means turning over a new leaf for her Spider. It's how this all started after all. Selfish Selflessness, it's probably the best middle ground Peter can hope for. But at least it means he can count on her, to be selfish. And that's why she'll always be there for him. Felicia doesn't like to lose the things she has.

I think it also says a lot that many players felt that Peter and Felicia's chemistry was loads more interesting and compelling than his relationship with the estranged version of MJ Spidey has to deal with. And frankly, Felicia being in those stealth sequences would've made a million times more sense. There are some who have even speculated, with no real proof mind you, that Felicia was lying about lying about having a son. That she DOES have one, he just wasn't in danger. But of course, that's unlikely. For the same reason Peter remains hung up on Mary Jane in this game despite the fact most players seem apathetic to them getting back together. Spider-Man being a father out of wedlock is something that Marvel is not really prepared to sign off on. Just as much as they resist him being with someone other than MJ in other media, despite not wanting him to be with her in the comics.

It all seems so arbitrary to me, that they just can't be together because of the iconography of Peter and MJ. Or because she can't love the man the Spider is, which isn't true. Or Spider-Man can't change her or trust her, which also isn't true. If there has ever been a more consistent, sustainable, supportive and bonded character to Peter Parker it has been Felicia Hardy. Romantically or platonically, Felicia has dropped things to be there for Peter. And the idea that they are toxic for each other has never rung true. People can change, and this romance proves it. They just need to be given the chance to do so, and have the right person along for the ride. And the forced separation feels more arbitrary when you take into consideration, that Marvel has kept MJ and Peter apart for over a decades worth of comics and has never bit the bullet on simply just letting Felicia and Peter be together until now.

Some have claimed the new romance is out of the blue, that Spencer was setting things up to undo OMD, and that Wells just pulled this off out of nowhere. Well... no. Because those scenes where Felicia brought Peter out of his coma, the re-unmasking, the re-entry into his life through a number of adventures... Spencer either wrote those himself or they were written in conjunction with his run. People have confirmation bias, I'm no different, I don't claim to be. However, everyone has wanted OMD to be undone since the storyline first concluded. Marvel has played with fans' heartstrings that it will do so and it has prevented Peter from moving on because if he's not in a committed sustainable relationship, there's always hope that Mephisto's deal will be undone! And it has not helped anyone in the slightest to keep buying that horse crap.

The fact is I'm honestly sick of this "will they won't they" garbage from Marvel on undoing One More Day and I think more people should be by this point. Let me make this perfectly clear, even if they undo the deal... they're not getting remarried. Marvel simply is not interested in going down that road for Spider-Man again. Even with the new Spider-Verse movie showing Peter B. with a kid. Because the problem has never been they won't let Peter be married to MJ. The problem is they won't let Peter grow. The problem is they won't let him move on and change. They stick him in a misery spin cycle and just never let him out.

Why not just end the charade? Let Peter grow. Let Felicia grow. They both already want to. They both already desire to. And they both have already done so for the other. Felicia has been there to challenge and push him, while also protecting and supporting him. And Peter has undeniably changed Felicia as a person. She may never have the same moral compass, but she's no longer as lost as she once was. Her selfish cynicism is kept in check when it comes to Peter. And his selfless self-destruction is held back thanks to Felicia. Why deny them the chance to both be truly happy? Especially when they make each other better people. Why deny chemistry that is so perfectly balanced in its contradiction?

I don't begrudge people for preferring Mary Jane being with Spider-Man. I'm more or less at peace with the reality that some pairings are just thought of as the default and nothing is really gonna change that. I prefer Rogue with Deadpool, that doesn't change the fact she'll always be with Gambit. What I wanted to stress with this isn't so much an argument to ship it so much as the ultimate reason I simply can't let these two go.

For me, SpiderCat speaks on some primal level, more than wish fulfillment, but the idea of growth. That love can hold you up in your worst moments, or change you for the better. That it can make you look in the mirror and ask, who do you want to be? What do you want? What is worth changing for? Felicia found her answer, a nerdy, selfless, eternally tormented wall-crawler, who should know better than to go chasing her trying to save her from herself... but does it anyway. How could she not return the favor and be there for him? It's hard to say whether he caught her in his web, or if she just loves walking across his path. What is certain is they are bonded to each other, in one way or another. And that's the only thing about either character that I don't think can ever truly change.

Well this was a long one, and probably a lot more introspective and personally relatable than I thought. I think now have a better understanding of what has always drawn me to these two. And also now think I have discovered the song that describes them both so... thanks Taylor Swift! Whatever future this rekindled romance holds in the comics, we'll see how it shakes out. But I can enjoy the ride even if some of it has been rocky. Not the first time I've had to deal with that.

If you're still here, congrats, you've made it to the end. And I hope I didn't completely bore you all with this fairly overly comprehensive look at a pairing spanning various mediums and continuities. But I like to be thorough. So I hope you can appreciate the amount of work I put into this whole thing for you all. If I ever do this again I can only hope it won't be so... all encompassing. But I make no promises.

One thing I know though, I'm probably gonna be riding and dying these two forever. The Cat and her Spider, the Self and Selfless. Beautiful in the mess they are apart and the whole they are together.

[some-pers0n]

Hey guys I was gonna reblog to @avianreptiles's cool reblog thread of your current art WIPs (which you totally should do)(sharing art is cool) andddd I wanted to share something myself. But I didn't write it yet. I then got carried away with writing it. Here ya go.

It's a scene from my Albatross fic that I've been trying to figure out how to do for a while. It's framed as a oneshot for now, but yeah it'll be integrated later on. It features a dead wife and sad aromantic Albatross.

Reblogs are always appreciated!! I adore seeing the notes people leave behind. They make me giggle and kick my feet. I love you guys <33

Albatross never got the point of funerals. Others tried telling him that they were worth his time. "It's a celebration of life!" they would say. They'd frame it as a commendable event. That he should be happy that somebody is dead.

He couldn't imagine a place he wouldn't rather be than here, standing before her grave.

Marlin, his wife, had passed away a few days ago. Albatross was the one to find her. He will never forget the utter horror that was seeing her lying on the floor, bleeding out with a single cut on her neck. She was long gone by the time he got there. He tried everything he could, even desperately begging for his magic to somehow bring her back, but to no avail. She was lost.

It had been a blur from then and up until the funeral. A dazed state of vague emptiness. A fog of numbness. He hadn't cried since discovering her body, something he felt guilty for. Manta and Eel, their very own dragonets, had been bawling nonstop. Even Lagoon was weeping earlier. Surprising that she had emotions.

No, he shouldn't say that. Being petty gets him nowhere. She was so distraught over Marlin's death. Even if he found the ceremony obnoxiously long and overdramatic, especially when she got upset at him refusing to speak, he should be grateful he set this whole thing up. 

Marlin deserved a nice send-off. She deserved a lot better than what she got in life, so she deserved just as much in death.

The grave was in the center of one of the Island Palace's gardens. It was where they got married and was always her favourite spot. Echoes of memories flowed through him. The feeling of warmth watching her tend to the bushes and flowers. The sweetness of seeing Manta take up an interest in her mother's craft. She loved this area.

Now she's memorialized with a grave. A marble statue erected where her body was buried, complete with aquamarines for her eyes.

The sky was overcast and grey. The wind wasn't cold, but humid enough to be slightly uncomfortable. It was as though he was standing in a world where the life was drained from it. Any joy or hope that could've been had decayed.

It was late into the evening. Everyone had already gone up and left. Manta and Eel were put to bed an hour ago. The only one awake in this palace was Albatross himself. He didn't feel too happy with the service. Many mourned the loss of Marlin, but more than anything, Albatross wanted to spend it alone.

"I'm sorry," he said. He didn't know why he said it, but it felt better to hear his voice. "I'm sorry for, well, everything." He glanced at the bushes around them. Some were trampled and stomped on, disturbed by the guests. "I wanted a private event. I wanted it to be just me, the dragonets, and you. I didn't want it to be this whole thing. But, you know, Lagoon insisted." He scoffed.

The statue did not respond. He wasn't expecting it to, but the apathetic silence was deafening.

"A lot of things between us shouldn't have been as public as they were. Lagoon." A faint smile cracked across his snout. "You always said I should've been more assertive. Not let her push me around. And you're right. I really, really should have." 

His expression faded away. "You wouldn't have liked it being like this. I'm sorry about that. I should have been firm with her, but she just kept pushing about it and..." He winced. "She brought up her again. Used her as an argument against me, again. Then, she brought you up. She never said it, but I knew what she meant. She thinks I could've saved you. If I had been there, I could've protected you. I could've gotten to you before you died."

He sat down, folding his wings to his side. The words were spilling out of him. "And she's right. I'm a coward. A stupid, childish fool who's afraid of his own shadow. Because of it, I ruined Sapphire's life. Because of it, I let you die." He tapped his talons against the ground. "I don't think I could do anything to make it up to you for what I've done." 

He glanced up at the statue. He was met with the frozen stare of those teal gemstone eyes.

"You did more than I deserved, quite frankly. You gave me two wonderful dragonets. I cannot thank you enough. If there's one thing I could do for you, it's giving them a life that is better than ours. They are the light of my life." He smiled, lost in thought over them. "I'll be a good father."

He heavily sighed, his grin washed away. "It's a shame they came from Lagoon pressuring me. She wants another animus. Obvious why. I'm sorry that you were roped into all of this." He walked closer to the statue.

"Everything about us was dictated by her, really. Even our own marriage she arranged. Maybe, had you been luckier, you wouldn't have ended up with me. You could have had a lovely life with a better partner. A partner who...actually loved you."

His jaw quivered. "I was never clear about that, but I think you knew. You were the most beautiful dragon I've ever seen. You brought me more joy and happiness into my life than I deserved. But, even as I said my vows on that very night when we were wed, I lied." He bit his tongue. "I never felt more disgusted by myself when I told you 'I love you'. I didn't. I never did."

He blinked, feeling tears well up. "There's...something wrong with me." He looked at his talons. "I don't know whether it's this magic or something I was hatched with, but there's something deeply wrong with me. I wanted to love you. I treated you with so much care and respect. I liked you, Marlin. Every moment we spent together was one I cherished...but I never felt that spark."

His voice began to break. "Every day I wished that somehow I could fix myself. That one morning I would wake up and magically the hole in my heart and begin to feel any sort of attraction or love to you. That we could be together forever. End up like a couple in a storybook, where we rush off into the sunset forever, full of only love with one another."

He rested his head on the statue. "And I'm sorry that I'll never be able to give you that. You deserved someone who could love you in a way that meant something. You deserved a better life than what you were given, and I'm so...so sorry..."

He gave way to incoherent weeping, quietly murmuring to the statue the same thing over and over again. He was sorry. He couldn't do anything to fix it. He could only feel pity for himself. For being incapable of making a stand. For being incompetent when it came to social situations. For being a terrible, horrible partner.

Marlin was dead, and Albatross was left with nothing more than the cold, unfeeling statue that stood before her. As though her life was little more than a name on a garden decoration. A footnote in a long, long history of SeaWing royals. She would be forgotten by the sands of time.

So long as he lived, he would ensure she would be remembered. That, somehow, her story will be recounted even thousands of years later. It was the one thing he could promise.

[floatysparrowthing]

he was a sk8er boi, he said annoy you l8r boi

(a teen soukoku fic, y2k style)

Chapter 14: Always

Chapter summary:

It takes less than a week of dating for their friends and family to catch on.

Snippet:

“Did something happen between you two?” Piano Man asks, black eyebrows rising into his dyed white hair.

“Hah?” Chuuya flushes. “Whaddya mean?”

“Chuuya.” Iceman levels a Look at him. Don’t bullshit us, it says.

Chuuya looks away, towards the brightly colored food court restaurants, caught halfway between embarrassment and a grin that refuses to settle down.

“That obvious, huh?” he asks.

“Let’s see, you abandon us for a week to hang out exclusively with him, then you two show up on Monday at lunch, heh,” Doc says. “And bring him to Piano Man’s only to flirt in front of us the whole time.”

“You guys keep giving each other looks,” Lippman says, meaningfully.

“We do not!” Chuuya says. What kind of “looks”? he wonders.

“You seem happier,” Iceman says.

“Happier? With that idiot? No way.” Chuuya leans back, crossing his arms.

Albatross laughs way too hard at that. “Just give it up, Chuuya! What happened? Did you guys confess your undying love to each other? Kiss each other silly? Or maybe you just up and eloped?”

Chuuya groans. “We did not elope. He’s just…” He looks toward the bathrooms to see Dazai coming back, who gives a cheerful little wave and then sticks out his tongue. Chuuya flips him off. “My, uh, boyfriend, now.” He mumbles the rest of it, but that doesn’t stop his friends from hearing him.

They erupt in a cacophony of I knew its and hell yeahs just as Dazai sits down next to Chuuya.

”What’d I miss?” he asks, eyes wide.

”They figured us out,” Chuuya mutters, shrugging.

“Oh!” Now his burgundy eyes are sparkling and, well, Chuuya likes that. But then those eyes turn towards his friends and—“You should have seen how Chuuya begged me to give him a chance.”

”I did not!” Chuuya jerks up, glaring at Dazai. He takes back every nice thought he just had about this dumbass.

“Yup!” Dazai hugs him from the side, squishing their cheeks together. “He said he couldn’t live without me and that he’s been in love with me ever since the day we met! Isn’t that nice?”

Chuuya does not appreciate how everyone is laughing at him right now, no matter how much they try to hide it.

”That’s not how it went at all,” he says, grumpily. “I lost a bet, so I had to go on a date with this bastard. Then, when I was gonna let him down easy, he just looked like a lost puppy and somehow we ended up here.”

It devolves from there into a mess of made up stories about how they got together— “Chuuya stole someone’s wedding ring and proposed!” and “Dazai put on a fuckin’ dog costume and pretended to be a stray in a box, just to get my attention. It was not cute.”—before their friends start pitching in with their own dating stories.

As they leave the food court, Dazai grabs Chuuya’s hand and gives him a little, private smile before going back to spouting bullshit.

Chuuya thought he would feel weird about them knowing, but now he’s just happy he can hold his boyfriend’s hand at the mall with his friends.

[ruified]

the long awaited review of storm bringer

sorry this took me so long to do i had some stuff happening

THIS ONE WILL BE LONG SO GET READY!!

Bang!

A hollow blast echoed through the street.

Chuuya stood stock-still as numerous bloodlike streams slid down his head-from multicolored party streamers.

"Happy one-year Port Mafia anniversary, Chuuya!" The pool hall rang with the five men's cheerful shouts. Chuuya looked around the room with an annoyed glare.

"..What is wrong with you people?"

first of all i love the flags dearly, i always have ever since i saw the stageplay but the ln really just sealed the deal for me <3

of course, getting attached was a BAD IDEA but anyway

"Now I get it!" His voice was unnecessarily loud. "You thought you could pull a fast one on me, showin' me this so I'd get all weepy and apologize! That's what's goin' on, isn't it?!"

"Hmm? No, actually, we—"

now here we have chuuya not believing the gift from the flags he received was genuine and it makes me wonder how more distrustful he had become since joining the pm :(

Up until a few minutes ago, there were six people in the room... but now there were seven.

"No need to clap," said the seventh man.

I LOVED ADAMS ENTRANCE SO MUCH MORE IN THE LN ITS SO FUNNY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH he’s so silly guys live laugh love adam frankenstein

"Chuuya, you cannot defeat Verlaine alone, which is why I was sent here. He is no ordinary assassin. Paul Verlaine is the king of assassins—and your elder brother."

now i just find it interesting that despite not biologically being related, adam still refers to paul as chuuya’s brother

i always thought paul was simply a self proclaimed brother but adam’s wording suggests otherwise

"Yeah, this is my problem," began Chuuya, standing in front of the closed door. "But if something like this happened to one of you guys, I don't think I could just ignore it. I'd try to help whether you liked it or not; I bet the rest of you'd feel the same way. So, detective, spit it out and tell them, too, or I'm not gonna cooperate."

The group stared at him, wide-eyed and impressed.

"Hey, did you guys hear that?" asked Piano Man.

"I did," Iceman said with a nod.

"I forgot to turn on my tape recorder." Lippmann gave a faint smirk.

"Tsk. On second thought, I'm just gonna handle this on my own."

"No way, man! No take-backs! I'm not letting you out that door."

this was so cute guys, i love the moment of vulnerability and the way they tease him like older brothers

It was Dazai's dark figure. Chuuya tried calling out to him, straining his voice, until he finally regained consciousness.

He was lying in front of that pool hall: Old World. He was no longer focused on Dazai but the inside of the hall. The undeniable stench of blood filled the air.

it’s the fact that he knew to bring him to old world which on the one hand is sweet but the other hand it’s… suspicious

"I'm gonna save you! Hold on!"

It was evident that there was no saving him, even without getting closer for a better look. His abdomen was torn open, exposing his ribcage.

"I'm sorry, Chuuya... He got me. I can't see... I can't even feel my legs anymore," Albatross gurgled in a whisper. His eyes were no longer seeing the world of the living. His legs were crushed from the knees down as well.

"But I saved Doc. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him out of the attack's way," said Albatross. "Everyone else is dead.

And I'm gonna die, too. But Doc... He needs your help..."

Albatross's right hand was clutching onto Doc's collar like a treasure he held dear. Doc's eyes were closed as if he were sleep-ing, and he didn't have a scratch on his body—his upper body, that is. There was nothing left of Doc from the waist down.

"…"

Chuuya groaned and clenched his jaw tight. He had to consciously fight the urge to scream.

"All right," Chuuya replied evenly, keeping his emotions at bay.

"I'll take care of Doc. He's gonna be okay thanks to you. You always were amazing like that. You should be proud."

albatross’ death actually made me ill so i’m sharing it with you all now

"Yeah, it's true." His voice rang of bitterness. It sounded as if he would have rather died than admit it. "But I can't get in touch with him. Whatever. Hope he's dead in a ditch somewhere."

"I see." I, however, believed that we would be in trouble if we lost an ideal player for the mission. "Can you trust this individual?"

"Trust him? No way," Master Chuuya spat. "He's a real piece of shit. Got a twisted personality to go with it, too. He's the kind of guy who'd try to sell water to someone who was drowning. What makes him even scarier, though, is that he'd actually pull it off. He's sharp in a bad kind of way. But we won't be able to beat Verlaine without him."

i love the way he describes dazai it’s so funny

Those who knew Dazai didn't dare come near his home-not even his Port Mafia subordinates-and not because of how eerie the area was. Rather, nobody knew how Dazai would react when someone invaded his private space. Perhaps he would tear off their limbs and kill them, or perhaps he would welcome them with open arms and a cup of tea. Nobody could understand how Dazai worked.

what a goofy fella

"Charming place you have here, Dazai," came a lighthearted voice. "What frightens you so much that you choose to live in such a dreary place? Real estate tax?"

verlaine says this… we’re supposed to be scared of this guy? BRO IS GOOFY

"Gimme your pen."

"Be my guest."

After grabbing the pen that was handed to him, Chuuya effortlessly scrawled something within the signature column at the bottom of the document. When the detective leaned forward to check the signature, he was met with the following words:

Eat shit.

Chuuya then tossed the pen on the desk, wrapped his arms behind his head, leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up.

he’s such an ass i love him so much

"I see." A self-deprecating smirk played on his lips. "But, detective..."

Chuuya's eyes had clouded over, shrouded in darkness.

"…you should probably save your sympathy for a fellow human."

he was already questioning his humanity despite not having been to the lab yet and it hurts so bad guys :(

"Chuuya's not with you? Good grief. He's even late to important events like this." Verlaine's tone was casual and carefree, even. "I bet he would show up late to a first date, too. You know, as his brother, I worry about him. Sigh..."

verlaine doing shit like this again

"He—Chuuya—was wearing a military uniform I think he stole from somewhere. He was a huge mess. His face and hair were filthy. He wasn't wearing shoes, either," Shirase continued, voice quavering. "We—the Sheep's original members—thought he was some orphan living on the streets. He spoke to us first.

"What's that square thing?' is what he said."

Shirase looked down at the ground as if he was desperately trying to remember every detail that happened that day.

"I had no idea what he was talking about... I thought he was just weird. That's when he said, 'Tell me what that square thing is in your hand. Right now.'"

Shirase lifted his gaze and idly stared into the distance.

"I was holding a slice of bread."

A deep silence reigned over the corridor, eerily so, especially after the destruction that preceded it. Verlaine quietly listened to the story.

"When I told him it was bread, he asked, 'Can you eat it?' Then when I went 'Yeah' and tore off a piece and ate it to show him, he did the last thing I was expecting him to do. He fainted, like he was out of batteries. It wasn't until I went over to check up on him that I noticed how skinny he was. He looked half dead. The others were weirded out and didn't want anything to do with him, but I gave him bread and some water. After convincing the group, I took him with me to the Sheep hideout in the sewers."

chuuya nakahara you are sickening

"Hey, don't look so worried! It'll be fine! I was the brains of the Sheep, and you're gonna have me on your side now, so there's nothing to worry about! I'll help you find the next target in no time!"

My arithmetic operator indicated it was highly probable Shirase was not the brains of anything but simply was useless in every other regard. I immediately shut down the operation. I did not want to know the truth.

I LOVE ADAM SO MUCH HES SO FUNNY

Master Chuuya watched Shirase flail his arms about for a full ten seconds before deeply sighing.

"What are you lookin' at me like that for?!" Shirase demanded.

"Nothing... If I told ya, it'd just make things worse," Master Chuuya said before averting his gaze.

they’re so childish too i love them

"Sigh... Somebody call a wahmbulance for this guy, seriously."

chuuya making fun of shirase again

Verlaine stood in mute amazement for a few moments before nodding as if he had figured out what was going on. "Now I get it. I finally see how you two did it."

Master Chuuya and Dazai stood side by side. There was something surprisingly perfect about it.

Two young men with completely different personalities...

they’re so meant for each other guys it’s crazy

"You messed with the wrong guy, Verlaine," Dazai said with a faint smirk. "I know exactly how to deal with someone who can manipulate gravity. Day in and day out, I've spent every waking and sleeping moment think about how I can annoy Chuuya."

he’s literally obsessed with him

After staring in mute amazement for a brief moment, his lips eased into a smile.

"Show-off."

It was an annoyed yet relieved smile. He then promptly began giving orders into the radio.

"Everyone, prepare for battle. Chuuya is heading toward the target."

why is he as a man amazed by another man

"Incredible," a dumbfounded Dazai muttered as he watched from the top of the gas tank. "So this is the power of Arahabaki."

like he literally is so captivated by chuuya throughout this entire scene, every time they mention dazai it’s like “he watched in absolute awe” or something

"So that's Arahabaki's—that's Chuuya's true form," Dazai muttered feverishly as he stared up from the surface.

he’s so down bad

After limply floating in the air for a few sec-onds, the wings on Chuuya's back vanished, and he slowly began to fall.

Until Dazai caught him.

…

"Sleep well, Chuuya." Dazai faintly smiled at him. "I forgot to bring a pen with me, so I won't draw on your face this time. You're welcome."

down terrible

"Wish you were me, huh? A future king needs a big city to set up base, after all!" Shirase gloated. "I learned something from all this. The mechanical detective that died, the king of assassins— they were incredible. I couldn't believe people like them actually existed. The world really is a big place! That's why I'm gonna use the gemstones I stole from the research facility to set up a base in London! The next time you see me, I'm gonna be the king of an organization even bigger than the Port Mafia. I'll make sure to keep a position open for you, Chuuya."

guys shirase is such an idiot i love him so much

“the world really is a big place!” like no shit sherlock you’re just figuring this out?

"Would you like to hear an android joke, Master Chuuya?" Chuuya stood in utter disbelief, mouth agape in astonishment.

He eventually took in a deep breath—possibly the deepest he'd ever taken. Then all of a sudden, he cracked a smile...

"Ha-ha-ha!"

...and laughed.

CHUUYA CARES ABOUT ADAM AND I SNIFF SNIFFLE EUGHHH

"I'm sorry, Rimbaud," he said in almost a whisper as he clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't treat you like the friend you were. I'm sorry I couldn't thank you for the present you gave me on my birthday. And now that you're no longer here... Now I'm just so terribly sad."

Verlaine's voice trembled as he lifted his head to the heavens and closed his eyes. He kept still. For the longest time, he remained there facing the night sky.

RIMLAINE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

He had no interest in the outside world. There was nobody he wanted to kill or see. The only person he missed was Rimbaud, but he was gone.

THEY MAKE ME ILL

guys i love rimlaine so much they’re so important to me

anyways those were my quotes hehe hope you enjoyed uhhh GO READ STORMBRINGER ITS PHENOMENAL

[satureja13]

The morning of the playtest! But who will be the first to enter the Therapy Game?

Jack: "Fear not my furless friends! For I - the Supersoldier - will boldly go where no creature had gone before!"

Saiwa, deliberately ignoring him: "So who will test this amazing technology first?" Jack: "Me! Me, me, ME!" Saiwa: "Hm... no volunteers? I would go myself but I'll have to supervise the devices and the AI... What about you Ji Ho?" Ji Ho: "Me? ö.Ö' Uhm..." Saiwa: "Right, this would not be a good idea. You are too precious for this." Jack: "Me! I will do it! What? Am I not precious or what? Ach! I don't care! C'mon Sai! Me, me, ME!"

Saiwa, still deliberately ignoring him: "Hmmm who else is eligible?..." Jack: "ME!!! Me, me, ME!" Saiwa: "What about you, Vlad?" Vlad: "Sure!" Jack: "What? And you claim to be my best friend! Tch!" Vlad: "But shouldn't we choose the one we can the easiest live without? In case something goes wrong?" Jack: "And that would be me! And thanks for your concerns: but Tiny Can will ensure I remain unscathed. Because he loves -> me!"

Nothing is as annoying as Puppy Jack ^^'

This is the mirror episode to this one :3

Saiwa: "Let's go!" Jack: "AWOOOOO!"

Saiwa and Vlad refunctioned the Therapy Room. Jack: "Wow! Will you be able to watch on the big screen?" Saiwa: "I hope so."

Tiny can is already connected and compiling.

Saiwa: "And these are your VR glasses and the Controller Arm." Jack: "This is so cool! Thank you, Sai!"

Saiwa: "Please be careful. As soon as you experience something off or weird, tell us and we stop it! We don't know what awaits us there and Arturo might have gotten that board from the Council and ..." Jack: "Omg Saiwa, it's just a game! What can possibly happen? You sound like my mom - if I had one..." And then he took a selfie, because it's so cool...

Jack: "That's a small step for a wolf - a giant leap for creaturekind!" Saiwa: "Omg! Go already!"

Jack: "Can't wait! ... Seems there is only one place I can go, so I'll just start there?" Saiwa: "Makes sense. This is your customized therapy session after all."

Jack: "Hm, I can see nothing - but I hear a crowd chanting. 'Wolfsbane! Wolfsbane!' " Saiwa: "Us neither. Wait, I'll make some adjustments. And to Tiny Can: "Tiny Can, check your graphics output, please." Tiny Can let out a streak of beeping sounds.

Jack: "Oh I can see! It's blurry and distorted - ah... now it's slowly getting better - but... ah" Jack gasped for air.

Saiwa still can't see anything: "Jack! What's wrong?" Jack tried to speak between gasping for air: "I... I'm... locked up! ...out!" And the he collapsed. (Due to his difficult past and after being locked up as a toddler and later with Saiwa in the lab and again when he and Ji Ho almost died in a fire, Jack can't stand being locked up.)

Jack also collapsed in the room in Tomarang and Saiwa is immediately stopping the game. Saiwa: "Tiny Can, stop the simulation!"

Vlad is helping Jack up and get's him to breathe again. Saiwa cries: "I'm so sorry, cub." (That's not the first time Saiwa is mean to Jack and something happens to him ö.Ö') And Ji Ho is petrified. Jack is like a brother to him and one of his best friends. This all started so promising and could have been of so much help for them... Tiny Can also looks abashed and beeps sadly...

'Terrified of the open road Yeah, where it leads ya never know But rest assured he'll be on you back Yeah, the holy ghost through his tounges in black As the band dog howls and the young girl cries The blessed virgin in her proud dad's eye The albatross hangin' round your neck Is the cross you bare for your sins he bleeds

Rebels are we, though heavy our hearts shall always be Ah, no ball or chain no prison shall keep We're the rebels of the sacred heart I said, no ball or chain, no prison shall keep We're the rebels of the Sacred Heart'

Flogging Molly - Rebels of the Sacred Heart This is one of my favourite songs of all time and I had it as my wake-up-song for many years. I just googled the meaning behind the lyrics and it's quite interesting to read. This song seems to tell about my own upbringing and now I love it even more.

This chapter's music is going to be very Irish/Scottish. Have I ever told you how much I love Ireland? I've never been there but whenever I see pics of Ireland, I cry. So I fear if I visit, I can't stop myself from crying all the time^^'

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[eldrigeonsss]

ahh, but consider,,

FnC Goose Enforcer of Destiny soulmate au??

Dude,,,,,, oh my god.

No bc i can work with this actually- ignore the fact I had to google what the fuck a Goose Soulmate AU was, read a couple articles, and realized it’s exactly what I thought it was. You’re telling me there’s an ENTIRE trope where a goose gets the love interests together?? HELL YEAH

okokconsider,

The Albatross docks on an island to resupply, thinking this would be a normal stop. But when the crew steps off the ship, they instantly notice an overabundance of geese, just absolutely everywhere.

Gillion is a bit spooked by the sheer amount of “cobra chickens”, and is entirely convinced that they’re venomous, to which Chip and Jay reassure the geese are (mostly) harmless. And then Chip promptly gets chased back up the ship by one.

After a little dialogue with some locals, the trio comes to learn that this island has a deep-rooted love for geese, as there is a legend surrounding them. They learn that the main village used to be two failing townships, owned by two nobles who absolutely hated each other, who’s hatred bled into the entire island, and made the two townships completely incompatible. It was said that if the two worked together, they could save their people from starvation and sadness, but their pride stood in the way of the good of the people. For whatever reason, though, a goose appeared one day, and began harassing the noble to the leftmost township, chasing him and biting him and making his life completely miserable. Eventually, that goose chased him to his enemy’s homestead, and despite his pride he pleaded with the other noble to let him in. He complied, on the condition that the other apologize for all his misdeeds on his life. And after that, the two began talking. It was slow, and rocky, but whenever it looked as if the two were going to part ways, the goose would return and harass one of the nobles until they folded and apologized, and communicated.

After years of this goose’s antics, the two nobles did something that no one expected, and fell in love. Soon after, they combined the two townships into the village they see today, and wrote a decree that all geese be cherished and protected.

Chip did not know why these feisty things ever needed to be protected, but whatever. He’d be bit by that same goose from before when he voiced that opinion.

The legend continues on to say that if a goose takes particular interest in a person, it is because their soulmate is nearby and that person is past due their confession.

Chip also thinks that’s ridiculous, but he mostly keeps that to himself.

The rest of the time spent on that island would be sprinkled in with Chip getting harassed by a particularly feisty little goose named Marco, an adorable little creature with a bell around its neck and a bite force that should not be on a bird. Chip often times finds himself hiding behind Gillion from Marco, because for whatever reason, whenever the little prick is around Gill, it gets all lovey dovey and sweet, and that sure beats the alternative.

Cue gay moments.

Once their time on the island comes to an end, Chip is washed over with relief as they pull away from the dock, now equipped with a new fear of geese, free from the ire of the birds. Until he turns around and sees Marco sitting on the deck, watching him with those evil beady eyes. Cue the goose.

Not sure how it ends buuuuuut you see the vision, hopefully :> what do y’all think?

[cassiesdaydreams]

💛⚠️SPOILER ALERT FOR FABLE SMP⚠️💛

Hello! I’m Cassie and I go through a lot of name crises! I was up at 1 am on my Snapchat stories picking each fable characters, including Fable and Isla’s Taylor Swift(The Tortured Poets Department)’s song! Some may not line up with the said characters or their arcs but this is just what I thought for each character. (I promise I’m just a fan and not a die hard swiftie.) As of 7/23/24 I have officially left the fable fandom to move on to other things, loved the time here.

As of now, i wont be supporting Taylor Swift. Thank you and goodnight

•Rae

In my ever so humble opinion, I thought Rae could have been the song Cassandra, all because “So *they* killed Cassandra first, cause she feared the worst” but if you remember in season 3, when Icarus threw the sculk bottle at Rae (I can’t remember the name of the episode) They could have killed him(Rae) and obviously Rae and Icarus being brothers and all, of course he’s gonna worry about him (Icarus). Really, the song Cassandra is about the Greek myth but like.. that’s irrelevant.

•Violet/Centross

When I started this I remembered how Centross was in the little “cell” under (I’ll say the name in which the season permits so s3 is Icarus and 1&2 is Sherbert) Sherbert’s house in season 2. As soon as I realized that, I said “Fresh Out The Slammer” because jail is also called a “slammer.” So “Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to.” In my mind I thought it meant “I’m out and i know where to go.” But it was one am and I didn’t get far with this one.

•Athena

I said that Athena was “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart” because of one line. “Im a real tough kid, I can handle my sh*t, they said babe you gotta fake it till you make it and I did.” It’s. So. Season. One. Coated. Sherb gaslighting Athena coded.

•Ven

I said Ven was “So High School” because Wet birds frfr. In the wise words of my cousin “Truth, Dare, Spin Bottles, you know how to stab Fable and I know Aristotle.” Of course, season 3, Icarus stabs Fable at the end, and Ven’s a writer (his elytra is book wings and that’s so cool)

•Icarus

Icarus is just “The Alchemy” because 1.) They’re an alchemist and 2.) Him and Ven. This song is just wetbirds coated “Cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me honestly who are we to fight the alchemy?” Also this kind of connects me to season one at the end of corruption because of “What if I told you I’m back?” And the resets by “This happens once every few lifetimes” representing when Fable would rip a page out to save them from death. Need I say more?

•Wolf

Listen when I was putting this together, my cousin never watched Fable but she said “Fortnight” for Wolf and I thought oh damn, this could be real coated honestly but like honestly “I love you it’s ruining my life” is kinda coated to me

•Ocie

Ocie is just straight up “The Albatross” because this girl is just like “Cross your thoughtless heart, only liquor anoints you, she’s the albatross, she is here to destroy you.” With Ocie being able to control the ocean, she could be the one “here to destroy you” the “terrible danger” the “death you chose.”

•Momboo

Okay so yall remember season one when she went to the prison to try and help Sherbert become uncorrupted? Yeah they just said “I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) and I don’t have a lot more to say about this.

Another thing about Momboo is that she can connect to Ocie cause sisters supremacy. But, there’s a line in The Albatross that says “Wise men once said one bad seed kills the garden” and it’s just so neat to me

•Fable

Fable I hate you a lot guys this is the worst dad like ever. He’s “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived” because he definitely is. First he kills his siblings and literally doesn’t care for his stepson like please we get it icarus is biological and you don’t like Rae cause Enderian is a part of him but like for real. Then you try and KILL YOUR OWN KID??? like please. Give him the worst dad who ever lived award.

•Isla

Aw look it’s mother!! I highly believe that if she could she would name her kids “Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus” but she wanted to remember her dad, for Rae. And Fable definitely named Icarus, but I can’t help but headcanon it

•Haley

Everytime I think of Haley, I only have season one to turn to for instances. I always think of the way she was a traveler, and how she left her home to find somewhere new. So I always think of “So Long, London” not meaning a lover/person like the song is talking about, but talking about the place she loved.

•Arisanna

I thought long and hard about what could be a thing about Arisanna, and I came up with Clara Bow, showing that she is the reflection of Soraza “you look like Clara Bow in this light, remarkable.” And how Soraza looks like who came before her, and who came before said other.

•Will

I was trying to figure out Will and I said “thanK you aIMee” because it’s like Will saying f^ck you to Fable for hurting his homeland. Hurting his culture and messing it up. Once again, it was like 1:30 here and I just was going through the stages of tired.

•Addie

I said Addie was “The Bolter” because she was reclusive but I also didn’t know much about her. She has a very pretty character design even though I don’t like spiders. (also the bolter is just a good song)

•Aax

is just “How Did It End?” Coated to me and honestly I have no reason for it. I honestly have no reason for a bit of this but maybe how did it end? was for him and Theo? I know we don’t know a lot about him so I’m headcanoning that. But I’m not sure haha

•Caspian

I think I said “The Prophecy” for Caspian because of him being trapped in the end prison and also looking for someone who he loved. Especially for the line “Please I’ve been on my knees, change the prophecy” being in jail being the prophecy, “…don’t want money, just someone who wants my company” meaning he wants someone who knows they’d want him around.

•Ulysses

I said “Peter” because I think when it comes to medical things, he’s the leader. So “forgive me Peter, my lost fearless leader” but honestly this song just makes me ramble on and on and on to be honest so I’ll stop the drabble about “Peter” here haha

•Jamie

For Jamie I said “Robin” because obviously, Jamie is a bear (and I find that cool actually no one knows) also the lines that say “You got the dragonflies above your bed, you have a favorite spot on the swing set, you have no room in your dreams for regrets” just makes me think of childhood innocence between him and Easton.

•Easton

I seen Easton as “I Hate It Here” with everything that went on between Sherbert and Momboo (Season 3, glitched death) so they would be like “I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind” which is honestly coated and I can’t pinpoint why.

•Galahad

I see Galahad as “Florida!!!” And I don’t know why. I kinda just see them as someone who wants to escape from their troubles. They want to get away but not in the sense Easton wants to. He’s tired of the fighting. They’re tired of Fable and the wars.

•Seven

Seven is just “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” because he’s a robot and as I see it, better off powered down permanently and broken down.

•The Whole Fable Cast

Honestly, this has been such an rollercoaster for me with figuring everything out about quixian and lore after missing a stream or two after being at an amusement park. Thank you for the best 3 years! Because every story has a manuscript, the song for the whole cast is “The Manuscript.”

Now all thats left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then we reread the manuscript, but the story isn’t ours anymore

The manuscript could be the vods by the way.

[starboy-acer]

“alkaline” [polypirates]

[check out alkaline by sleep token, it’ll cause u to have a better appreciation for this cuz that song is basically their thoughts abt jay]

the crew had just come back from another run-in with a giant sea beast. everyone had seemed to be fine, but jay happened to be harmed more than the others and absolutely exhausted. immediately, she went to rest as chip and gillion stayed up, per her request. chip and gillion had gone to the kitchen with the rest of the crew to relax and quench their hunger. eventually, the crew was satisfied and left to go do their respective duties on the albatross while chip and gillion stayed at the table, glasses of orange juice in their hands.

the boys were both thinking about the same thing, jay ferin. they don’t often have moments where she’s not around and they’re not occupied. often times, they would have time to each other while jay was sleeping or busy with another project of hers, but it was still daylight and jay wasn’t busy, so this was absolutely unusual for them.

not to mention, chip and gillion were starting to develop a certain feeling for jay. they almost couldn’t pinpoint it, but they knew that they only had felt that feeling for each other before. they know that they both wanted to be more than friends with her, but they had no clue how that even worked. they had discussed it briefly before, but never discussed it with her.

“i miss jay.” gillion spoke up first with slight fake, dramatic sadness in his voice. he glanced at chip and he decided to be significantly more dramatic.

“i miss jaaaaayyyyy!” chip cried like a toddler. neither of them were actually upset because she wasn’t there, they were capable of being without her, but both of them were dramatic men and took every opportunity to be so.

“chip, i miss jay more than usual. my heart almost… pained when she’s not here.” gillion sighs. he wasn’t ever good with feelings and it took chip confessing for him to realize his feelings for him. now, he’s experiencing these feelings again for another person and doesn’t know what to do with them.

“you too?” chip said with a slight chuckle, “i’ll never tell her, but i genuinely miss her when she’s not around.” chip was also fairly bad at feelings, but he was different than gillion. it wasn’t that he didn’t know his feelings for her, it’s that jay was intimidating to him. he would never in a million years admit it to her, but he so desperately wanted to.

gillion chugged his juice and set the glass down. “i’ve only ever felt this way for you, chip. i don’t know what to do with these feelings. i don’t want to tell her and she doesn’t feel the same.”

“i feel ya on that,” chip took another sip of his juice. “seeing her fight just… i don’t know. there’s something about her and her gorgeous red hair and her blue eyes and her-“ chip stops himself and gillion stares at him. his face turns red and he shrinks down to almost hide from gillion’s gaze.

“i see… so we feel the same way about jay.”

“yeah… yeah, we do.”

“what do we do about this now?” gillion asks. he knew the answer, he knew they had to tell her.

“i think—“ chip starts, hesitating. “i think we have to tell her.”

gillion groans and puts his head in his hands. “i knowww.”

“should we just go and get it over with?”

“we should.”

chip nods and stands as gillion does the same. he turns to look at gillion and plants a kiss on his cheek before walking out the door.

when they get to the deck, they see jay ferin leaning against the railing on the side of the deck. the setting sun illuminated every feature of her’s beautifully. it accentuated her gorgeous tangerine-colored hair. the light reflected off of the water highlighted her aquamarine eyes. the wind blew her hair to the side in a way that made her face perfectly visible. she glanced over at the boys and gave a warm smile. everything about her was warm and comforting in this moment. usually, she intimidated chip and sometimes gillion. not because she’s mean or cold, but because she’s skilled and powerful. however, in this moment, she was just a girl on a ship. she was a beautiful girl on a ship. chip and gillion clearly saw that. they weren’t used to seeing her as warm as she was right now, but they loved to see her like this. she was the sun to gillion’s moon and chip’s stars.

“hey gill, chip!” she waved, beckoning them to join her.

a light rose tint covered chip and gillion’s face as they slowly walked over to her. gillion leaned on the railing to the left of her and chip on the right. they looked at each other and then at her, trying to gauge who would talk first.

“so jay—“ they said at the same time.

“chip, you can go.”

“no no, you go, babe. i insist.”

“ladies first.”

“IM NOT A LADY?!”

jay laughs and stops them, “guys, one of you go first!”

gillion gestures to chip, but chip violently shakes his head. gillion decides to speak up first. “jay, we have something to talk to you about.”

jay turns to gillion with a confused look on her face. gillion just looks out at the water. “chip and i have been discussing some… feelings we have. we decided it was a good idea to inform you.”

jay begins to get worried. she doesn’t know what this could possibly be about. chip looks down as gillion looks out and he decides to be speak.

“god, i don’t know how to say this. basically, we… we— uh…”

“jay, we have feelings for you and not friend feelings.” gillion spits out.

jay’s eyes widen and she looks between chip and gillion. she’s never been approached by people like this. usually, she’s approached by women and now she’s being approached by two men. she had no clue how to feel but she knew, in her heart, that she reciprocated the feelings. she had realized that she developed slight feelings for gillion. she doesn’t know when or how. they just appeared. then she noticed herself looking at chip more, admiring his charm. she started laughing at his jokes more, even if she didn’t think they were funny. she laughed because she liked him, not his jokes.

“your silence is scaring me so bad.” says chip as jay snaps back to reality. she doesn’t know who to look at, so she just looks out.

“i think… that i have feelings for you guys too.”

chip’s heart almost jumps out of his chest before calming down. he laughs as he takes a deep breath. gillion smiles and looks at chip then at jay.

“so what now?” jay asks the question that they’re all wondering.

“do you want to be our girlfriend?” chip asks.

“obviously, yeah. of course. but how does that work?”

“i think like a normal relationship except we’re all dating each other instead of just one person.” gillion says. “i’ve seen some undersea societies that do that and they seem pretty happy with it.”

“yeah, yeah that sounds fine to me.” jay smiles before holding gillion’s arm and planting a quick kiss on chip’s cheek.

as the moon began to rise, the captains went down to their sleeping quarters. chip and jay ended up pushing their beds together (minecraft reference) and gillion moved his barrel closer. before actually sleeping, gillion cuddled up between chip and jay. his head laid nicely on chip’s arm and they were all close enough where chip could mess with jay’s hair. jay held onto gillion’s arm and kept swatting chip’s hand when he tried to do something stupid like poke her face. eventually, chip and jay both kissed gillion goodnight as he went to his barrel and the two cuddled up together before falling asleep snd having dreams about nothing but each other.

“wait so…” ollie looked at chip with his arm around jay while gillion is training. “you’re dating miss jay AND gillion?”

“you’re absolutely right, ollie.” chip smiled and pulled jay closer.

“but your whole thing was that you don’t get bitches and now you have two!!” ollie exclaims, genuinely confused.

“WHAT? AND HEY, LANGUAGE.” chip is just baffled at ollie’s statement and jay is practically on the floor laughing.

“WHAT! ITS THE TRUTH!”

[tiredlilguy]

Some AlbaDoc HC's

a/n: these two are very strangely my comfort ship... do not ask why LMFAO, i just like them, also I often refer to Albatross as "Alb" because I don't like typing all the whole name and i wanted to give him a nickname :P

i feel like the way that they even got together was that albatross just said it bluntly, and doc accepted

idk, they're mafia, no shortcuts, just straight to the point

albatross still blushes when doc holds his hand though

they're fluffy ;-; if doc is sitting in alb's lap, alb will like, rub his hair into doc's back affectionately (on doc's shoulder... he'll do it gently though, so as not to hurt him)

doc doesn't mind because albatross is a literal heater; he gets cold a lot...

alb is a cuddler for sure, but he can get embarrassed from time to time if doc initiates the affection

I feel like doc would do something and alb would go "wow i'm so gay"

alb sends doc a lot of the outfits he just bought or his "daily fit pics"

doc saves every one of them; i lowkey feel like he'd have a shrine (we can't keep it too wholesome in this house)

Doc always feels Alb's heart race every time they're within intimate proximity to each other- and he's pretty obvious too

I feel like even though Albatross can be reckless, he's always careful with Doc: making sure he's not holding his hand too tight, putting his fluffy vest on him if he gets cold, etc etc.

doc once sent a picture of Albatross to his friends from America and they at first were concerned if Alb was a good bf or not

they're both one braincell in love with each other

when reffering to each other, they call each other "boyfriend" or when they're talking to someone else about each other it's like "wow, look at my cool boyfriend go"

ideal date for the two of them: buy takeout, go to a creepy abandoned lab/facility of some sort and go eat on the roof while holding hands and seeing the stars

Doc will sit on Albatross's lap with no hesitation, he likes his personal heater; alb will get flustered for a second before happily wrapping his arms around his bf

idk why, i can see Albatross being more fluffy and wholesome; he becomes immediately flustered at the idea of sex tho- (no nsfw here tho [yet], i'm in a fluffy mood)

they have a lot of strange trinkets from each other... specifically albatross gives doc a lot of cool-looking rocks, and receives a liver in a jar in return

albatross would show off his room to chuuya and point at the liver and go "my boyfriend got this for me. isn't he so sweet?" meanwhile... chuuya is very confused

uh... uhm. they go to barbie

yeah

a;lsdkfja;lsdfj

uhhh

gay ppl, amirite

oki, that's all LMFAO