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thessalian · 10 months

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Thess vs Good News

Iiiiiiii’m going to MCM Comic Con! And if the stars align and everybody’s on the ball, Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii’m finally getting autographs from the cast of Critical Role! As soon as I heard they were coming back, I was emailing my mother being like, “Hey, remember about three years ago when I asked for an early Christmas / birthday present in the form of tickets to the event and autographs? And then Covid happened and the whole thing had to be scrapped and I was very sad? Well, they’re finally coming back so could we do that deal again, please?” And she said yes and I just now got the ticket confirmation and I think I’m pretty clear on how to get an accessibility badge and while I’m not relaxing until I have autograph bookings for the cast, I am still at least going!

But no, I’m not going to see them run live at Wembley. I did try, but they got sold out way too fucking fast. Which is disappointing not just because I wanted to see that once-in-a-lifetime thing, but also because my bestie threw money at me for the tickets pretty much ten seconds after I squeed about it, because he so wanted me to be able to go because I wanted it so much. But I think in the end it’s just as well. The accessibility options for Wembley are a little ... complicated if you’re not straight-up in a wheelchair, apparently.

(Bestie would not let me give the money back. I asked repeatedly. He said no. So I thought long and hard about something he would really want me to have and did that instead. I’ll show you later.)

Anyway, insofar as the convention goes, there is one tiny bummer. See, when I asked for this as my combination Christmas / birthday gift three years ago, I asked my mother to maybe come with me on the Friday. I really want her to see a convention, at least a little bit, on the least busy day so she doesn’t get overwhelmed. So obviously when the opportunity came around again, I asked her to come with me on the Friday. Unfortunately she’s going to be in Montreal so she won’t be able to make it. So I’ve said maybe we can make a day trip of it in May 2024 and I’ll buy her ticket that time. Because gods know this is almost certainly going to be the last convention I attend in full. It’s going to be rough enough as it is.

There is one plus point to Mum not being able to make it, though, and it comes back to yet another previous convention - one that actually happened. When the CR crew came to London five years ago, they had to arrange a separate smaller panel on Sunday because it was standing room only and still hundreds of people couldn’t get in. Seriously, because the UK is easier to reach for people in Europe and other parts of the world than the US is, we got people from all over Europe and beyond. Furthest away I heard about was the Philippines. (Though in fairness it’s going to be slightly more complicated for Europeans this time around because Brexit is in full swing and Freedom of Movement is a thing of the past. Still easier than flying to San Diego, and probably cheaper too.)

Anyway, Sunday panel, I was in the queue, and I’d made it a point to say something nice to people I came across because I wanted them to have as many good memories of the day as possible. So I told the young woman in the queue just ahead of me that I liked her T-shirt. She reciprocated the compliment, we got to talking, and she was saying how she’d really love to find a campaign and that mine sounded fun but wasn’t it a shame she lives in France but I live here in London? At which I had to explain that my party spanned three countries and four time zones at that point. So, two weeks later, we had a new Monster Hunter Ranger in the party, and she’s been a source of delight ever since.

She’s trying to arrange to come back to get pictures with the cast members she missed (Travis and Laura were on paternity leave at the time, and Ashley had Blind Spot to finish), and if she can come, I have offered my sofa for a few days and the possibility of getting a carer badge so that she can help me if I’m in too much pain or hit with a dizzy spell or something. We’ve discussed it and I just told her that if she really feels like she needs to contribute, she can toss me £20 for groceries while she’s here (because you know I am going to take every opportunity to cook for people I care about). I haven’t seen her in person in years and I hope she can come. (I mean, I’d love it if all of my players could come but it’s an expensive trip and I only have so much sofa.)

So yeah, if all plays out according to plan, I’m finally getting those autographs. I do need to decide once and for all whether I want them to sign my copy of Tal’Dorei Reborn or the original Green Ronin Tal’Dorei Campaign Setting. I’m leaning towards the latter just because ... I mean, it’s where they started, and look at them now! Plus I want them to sign something sturdy because while I have kept them in good condition, I do occasionally fear for my small collection of autographs from the likes of Courtenay Taylor, Mark Meer, Ali Hillis, Alix Wilton Regan, Raphael Sbarge (his in particular, honestly), and Troy Baker calling me ‘Rebel Scum’ because I mained a Jedi Consular in SW:TOR.

(Okay, I originally mained a Smuggler in SW:TOR but then my RP guild wanted a healer for Ops so ... yeah. Republic anyway.)

So ... fun D&D session yesterday, and now good news today, and the added gloriousness of, “A bunch of nerdy-ass voice actors are going to sell out Wembley fucking Arena".

Sometimes life is good.

#Thess loves her friends #Tumblr and otherwise #mcm expo

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larabiatasstuff · 7 months

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Part three🖤

A week went by and I got used to working with Max not just that it was actually kind of refreshing to have him by my side but he still tried to flirt with me whenever he got the chance. "We would make a great couple you know?I mean obviously I'm the funny part but we're both really attractive.You have to work on your attitude but still " Max stated one night during an observation. I laughed "Oh of course I'm the one with the attitude. Not you who's constantly getting on my nerves. Not gonna happen." then he leaned over to me his face just inches away from mine. "Go on a date with me." "Excuse me what?" I asked looking at him. "A date, you and me. A nice restaurant or a bar. A few drinks or maybe dinner. Come on babes you don't even know the whole Max." "Wait this is not the whole Max? Sorry I'll pass." then he started coming closer, nudging me with his head. "Oh please babes, one date, just one, I promise I'll behave. Come on Y/N, please." "Max you're invading my private space... Max don't you dare..." but it was too late, his head was already lying on my lap and he looked up at me with the best puppy eyes he could do. "Please say yes Y/N please." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath "Okay fine but please can you act like an adult for the rest of the night?" he immediately sat up straight. "Whatever you want Y/N." he said smiling like a little boy on Christmas morning. He picked a nice little restaurant for our date and he also tried to act like an adult. "So the chief said you came back after a break? Did you travel the world or something like that?" "No nothing like that I... well I spent some time in a wheelchair after an accident." My eyes went wide "I'm so sorry Max I didn't know that." "There's no need to be sorry Y/N that's in the past. It's the here and now that counts. I have my job back and a really cool partner who's also very attractive." "And there you are again. You can't be serious for just one minute can you?" I said taking a sip from my glass. "Life's too short to be serious babes and life's also too short to miss opportunities soooo..." I smiled and shook my head "I'm not going home with you Max. I'll finish my drink, call a cab and go home. And you should do the same." he sighed, leaned back in his seat crossing his arms in front of his chest "You're no funny business Y/N seriously the offer is still up." "Nope I'm good thanks. But I had a really good night Max thank you." "Can I at least least get some sugar? I was a good boy." I took a second to think about it and nodded. "Okay one for the road." Max instantly closed his eyes and pursed his lips. I leaned forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Hey that's not fair!" "Life's not fair Parrish see you tomorrow." with that I left the restaurant.

Part four🖤

#thomas ian griffith #sensei targaryen #max parrish x reader #max parrish

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sylvanfreckles · 2 years

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Nice Day for a...Wait for It (3 of 5)

(For Alt. 13: Crutches)

Fandom: Supernatural Rating: G General Warning: chronic illness, internalized ableism, disability, violence

Summary: Sam and Eileen's wedding is just a few days away, and Dean and Castiel join them for some relaxation at the hotel before the ceremony. But Winchester Luck strikes again, and they find themselves at the center of disaster as secrets are uncovered. Cas has gotten stronger since the ritual that tore his grace away and left him human, but will it be enough when he's targeted by a malevolent spirit? (Read on AO3)

...

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

(Thus Spoke Zarathustra - Frederick Nietzsche)

...

Sam trailed Eileen into the antique store and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of knickknacks and furniture crammed into the tiny space. There was an entire wall of clocks, for one thing, and he vowed to be out before the top of the hour when they’d all start to chime.

“Oh, hello!” A gray-haired, matronly woman waved to them from the counter. “Good to see you back, my dear. Did you come for that little table?”

Eileen hooked an arm through Sam’s and pulled him forward. “Still talking him into it.”

Sam tried to smile, but the spirit that had attacked Dean and Cas the night before was weighing heavily on his mind. “I actually came to ask you about something else.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, by all means, ask away. You were right, he’s a cutie!” She added the last part in a loud stage whisper to Eileen, making her laugh and Sam fidget with embarrassment. “Now, what were you wanting?”

“Our friend, he was in here with my fiancée yesterday? He bought a Christmas ornament?”

“Yes, the darling man in the wheelchair. He was a cutie, too, you can’t keep them all to yourself, girl.”

Sam gave an awkward smile as the woman addressed Eileen again. “It’s just, it’s a lot like the ornaments my mother collected,” he interjected, pulling the woman’s focus back on him. “We lost them all in a house fire when I was a child, and I was hoping you might have a few more?”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” The woman shook her head. “No, that was the only one left. They were all from an estate sale about a month ago, I barely had them in the store before someone snatched the whole lot up. Well, except the one your friend bought. I didn’t find him until last week, and I was just thinking I should contact the other buyer to see if she wanted mister mushroom.”

“I see.” Sam feigned a disappointed expression and turned as if to leave the shop. “I don’t suppose…can you tell me who bought them? It’s just that it would be such a nice surprise for my mother.”

The woman hesitated, though only for a moment. “Oh, I just can’t say no to you. Don’t think it’d do any harm…it was Emily. Emily Townsend.”

“Townsend?” The name sounded familiar, but Sam couldn’t quite place it.

“Yes, she runs the River Oaks Hotel, down on second street. Always puts up a big Christmas display every year, right after Halloween. She bought every last ornament, except the one your friend found yesterday.”

Sam shared an alarmed look with Eileen, then thanked the woman and hurried out of the store to where Dean was waiting with the Impala.

…

This was ridiculous.

While the others had gone to interview the woman at the antique store, Castiel had been left at the hotel with strict instructions (from Dean) to stay in bed and wait for their return. Dean had left him with a salt ring around the bed, and a crowbar and sawed-off shotgun close at hand in case the spirit returned.

Which it wouldn’t. It had obviously been connected to the mushroom ornament, and they had destroyed all remnants of that as soon as Dean had been able to get out to his car for more supplies. Dean was just being overprotective, as usual.

Cas swung his legs over the edge of the bed and picked up his crutches, which had been leaning against the wall. He was doing no good sitting here when he could at least be exploring the hotel. Even though he was human now, there was still a chance he could pick up on things that the Winchesters missed. He slipped his phone in his pocket, the ringer left on silent, and limped his way out of the door into the hallway beyond.

It was late morning, so the hotel was fairly busy. He kept as close to the wall as he could, not wanting to get in the way of guests and staff, and picked his way in the opposite direction of the lobby.

The River Oaks Hotel was only two stories tall, with an elevator in the central corridor. Cas avoided the elevator and chose to follow the cross-corridor down to its end. There was an external door that led out to the parking lot, and doors for a conference room and business center.

He shuffled back when the business center door swung open, and one of the hotel staff came out with a garbage bag in her arms. “I think there’s more toner in the basement,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yuck.” Another staff member followed her, lugging a vacuum cleaner and caddy of supplies. “I hate going down there, it’s so creepy with all that crap Emily keeps buying.”

Cas watched them go, interested in their conversation. Sam and Dean hadn’t mentioned anything about the basement. He slowly followed the hotel staff toward the lobby, trying to look like he was just getting some exercise and not paying too much attention to them. Luckily, the crutches seemed to make him almost invisible to the people around him, for all he felt like he stood out more. Like people took one look at him and dismissed him as beneath their notice.

It was even worse in the wheelchair, but Dean didn’t understand that. He didn’t understand the feeling of countless eyes judging and weighing you and finding you lesser.

They went through a door marked for hotel staff only, and Castiel shuffled over to a display of tourist brochures where he could keep an eye on the door but not stand out too much. He didn’t have to wait long until they came out again, both pushing large housekeeping carts.

He waited until the hall was empty, then made his way through the door to the staff only area. Immediately, something felt wrong. The hair on his arms stood on end and a headache pricked at the edges of his eyes. The staff area was just a modest set of lockers on one side and a collection of housekeeping supplies on the other, with a passageway at the back leading to the hotel’s industrial washing machines.

There was an unmarked wooden door next to the washing machines, and when Cas pushed it open he found a set of uneven stairs leading down below the hotel. He could see a few rows of wire shelving piled high with storage containers, from sagging cardboard boxes to brightly colored plastic totes.

He stared down the stairs for a long moment. He could make it down them and explore the basement. Might even find the source of the haunting. But he was unprepared for such a task and, truth be told, his legs were starting to ache from walking up and down the hall. At least he had a lead now. He had proven himself useful in this case, despite his physical limitations.

Cas started to turn to make his way out of the staff room when something grabbed at the bottom of his crutch and yanked it sideways, into the basement. He released it with a surprised grunt and clung to the doorknob for support, the other crutch clattering down after its mate. His skin was crawling now, and the pain in his head had spread down to his neck and shoulders.

His legs gave out, and he dropped to his hands and knees to crawl away from the basement door. Pressure was rising in his ears, like it had in the room last night. Suddenly, the overhead lights exploded, raining glass and sparks down in the darkened room. Cas curled up with his arms over his head for protection, only to feel something latch onto his foot and pull him toward the basement.

Scrabbling for a handhold, he managed to catch the rickety banister at the top of the staircase. It creaked and groaned under his weight as Castiel fought to pull himself up.

The wood gave with a snap, and he hurtled down the stairs into the silence of the basement, landing painfully on his side on a large crate. Pain flared up his side, his chest suddenly almost too tight to breathe. His entire body ached from numerous impacts, and he let himself slide to the floor with a moan of pain.

One of his crutches was nearby. Cas managed to push himself to one hand, though he nearly collapsed back down as his ribs protested the movement.

He crawled. Inch by painful inch. His fingers brushed the smooth aluminum, and he tugged the crutch closer. The basement was barely lit by a single overhead lamp, and he stared around the shadows until he located the other crutch closer to the stairs.

Cas let out a huff of exhaustion, though that tore at his chest and he had to stop moving until the pain receded a little.

It was then that he heard it. A deep, ominous creaking.

He looked up in time to see the wire shelves swaying back and forth, before an unseen force sent them crashing down on him.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5)

#whumptober2022 #no.10 #alt.13 #crutches #supernatural #fic #internalized ableism #ableism #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #eileen leahy #destiel #saileen #hurt/comfort #hurt castiel #castiel whump #the flare 'verse

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bechloeislegit · 2 years

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12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08

Beca Nightingale

Prompt from Fanfiction User FearTheLilly: I know you usually do a soldier coming home story for Christmas but how about a Florence Nightingale effect where person A is an injured soldier and person B is their nurse. Bonus if you make Chloe the soldier and Beca the nurse since that plays against their characters.

Beca Mitchell sighed as she stood on the balcony of the V.A. Rehab Hospital. She had never entertained the idea of being a nurse, let alone a nurse working with injured vets, but here she was.

The job was tough and Beca had to be tougher than the job. She had seen far too many American soldiers come through the doors of the hospital.

Beca had just received word that a young soldier she had worked with that had been released the week before, had committed suicide. She wiped the tears from her face and stared out over the grounds of the facility.

Beca hated crying, especially over something this senseless. She didn't think the young soldier was mentally ready to go home but was overruled by the psychiatrist that was supposed to be helping him.

Beca wiped more tears and made her way back inside.

"We have incoming," Stacie told her as soon as she saw Beca. "All hands on deck."

Beca sighed and rushed behind Stacie to the entrance to help receive the injured soldiers.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~~

Two weeks later, Beca was pushing a wheelchair as she entered the room of her two 'newest' patients.

"Hey, Beca," Emily Junk said as she entered.

"Hey, Junk," Beca said. "Ready for your PT?"

"No," Emily said. "But I am ready to go home."

"Sorry, but it takes more than you saying you're ready to go home for it to actually happen," Beca said as she stopped and locked the wheelchair next to Emily's bed. "I think the doctors like having you around. At least for a little while longer."

Emily looked over at her roommate. "How's Chloe doing?"

"Captain Beale is still in a medically induced coma," Beca said. "But you know that. Good news though. They may try and bring her out of it today or tomorrow."

"That is good news," Emily said. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be alive right now."

"Let's get you into the chair," Beca said. "You know how Dr. Posen hates when we get there late."

"I know," Emily said. "She's one tough broad."

"That's one way to describe her," Beca said as she helped Emily into the wheelchair. "All set?"

At Emily's nod, Beca started pushing the wheelchair out of the room. Beca rolled Emily into the PT exercise room and Dr. Posen immediately came over.

"How's my favorite patient this morning?"

Emily blushed and looked down as she said, "If you mean me, I'm doing well, thank you."

"She's all yours, Aubs," Beca said.

"Thanks, Beca," Aubrey said as Beca left the room.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~~

Beca stopped at the Nurse's Station and stood in front of the desk.

"Hey, Ashley," Beca said. "Junk is in PT and I need Beale's meds."

Ashley made a notation on a clipboard and stood.

"I'll get those meds for you," Ashley said. "I think Dr. Swanson changed one of them since he's planning on trying to wake her up today."

"He's going to do it today?" Beca asked.

"Yes," Ashley said. "I think around two or so. I'll go get those meds now."

Ashley left and Beca drummed her fingers on the desktop.

"Hey, Beca," Stacie said as she came up to the desk. "We're thinking of ordering pizza for lunch. You want in?"

"Sure," Beca said. "Just cheese for me, please."

"Here you go, Beca," Ashley said, handing Beca a clipboard.

Beca signed for the meds and handed the clipboard back to Ashley.

"Did I hear you say something about pizza for lunch, Stacie?" Ashley asked. At Stacie's nod, Ashley asked, "Can I get in on a pepperoni?"

"You got it," Stacie said. "I'll let you two know when it gets here."

"Thanks," Beca and Ashley both said as Stacie walked away.

"Here you go, Beca," Ashley said, handing Beca a tray with the medicines for Captain Beale.

Beca checked over the tray and nodded her head. "Thanks, Ash."

Beca made her way to Captain Beale's room. And as she always did when she entered, she called out, "Good morning, sunshine."

Beca walked over to the bed and put the meds tray on the table next to the bed.

"I got your breakfast," Beca said. "Bon appétit!"

Beca then methodically picked up each syringe and inserted them into the IV hanging above Beale's bed.

"We'll get to meet each other properly if you decide to wake up for Dr. Swanson today," Beca said. "Emily tells me you have amazing blue eyes, and I am quite interested in seeing them."

Beca finished administering the meds and again looked down into the face of Captain Beale.

"I gotta say," Beca said as she looked down at her patient. "I've become quite enamored with you. I don't usually let myself become attracted to my patients, but there is something about you that has me thinking about you all the time." Beca sighed. "I must say, I've enjoyed and am going to miss our little talks. It's not often I can vent about some of the doctors around here without being chastised for it. You are quite the listener and I appreciate that."

Beca checked everything and made notations on the patient's chart. She placed the chart back in the slot at the end of the bed, picked up the meds tray, and left the room.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~~

Beca had just finished her lunch when she heard the distinctive "ding" signifying a patient needing assistance. She looked down the hall and saw the light on outside the Junk/Beale room. She hurried down and entered the room.

"What's wrong, Emily?"

"Um, I think Chloe, I mean, Captain Beale, is in pain," Emily said, pointing to the other bed.

Beca looked over to see Chloe thrashing about; she hurried over to the bed. She looked down at Chloe and pressed the button for the nurse's station.

"How can I help you?" Ashley's voice came through the speaker.

"Ashley, it's Beca. Would you please page Dr. Swanson to Captain Beale's room? I think she's waking up."

"On it," Ashley's voice came back through the speaker.

A few seconds later, over the hospital's speaker system she heard, "Dr. Swanson please report to room 309. Dr. Swanson to room 309 please."

"Captain Beale?" Beca said, looking down at Chloe. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Chloe moved again, letting out a small groan as she did.

"Is she okay?" Emily asked.

"She's fine," Beca said, looking over at Emily. "I think she's waking up."

"Thank God," Emily mumbled.

Just then Dr. Swanson came rushing in, with Jessica close behind. Jessica threw out a "sorry" to Emily as she pulled the privacy curtain across to block Emily's view and provide some privacy while Dr. Swanson examined Chloe.

"She's definitely waking up," Beca said as Dr. Swanson rushed over to the side of the bed.

Chloe started thrashing about again and reached toward the arm with the IV in it; Beca grabbed her arm to keep her from pulling out the IV. She held Chloe's hand down with one hand while rubbing her shoulder with the other.

"It's okay, Captain," Beca said. "You're safe. We've got you."

Chloe seemed to calm down as Beca kept up a steady murmuring.

"Captain Beale," Dr. Swanson said loudly. "If you can hear me, open your eyes."

Chloe move about a bit. Beca continued to rub her shoulder and hold her hand.

"Captain Beale," Dr. Swanson called again. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Suddenly, Chloe's eyes shot open. She looked about wildly.

Beca gently squeezed her hand, causing Chloe to look up at her. Beca smiled as she looked into Chloe's eyes.

"Emily was right," Beca mumbled, staring into Chloe's eyes. "Your eyes really are an amazing shade of blue."

"Told you!" came from behind the privacy curtain.

"You're the sunshine girl," Chloe said, her voice raspy from not speaking.

Dr. Swanson cleared his throat, causing Chloe to turn her gaze to him.

"Welcome back, Captain," Dr. Swanson said with a smile. "I need to do a few quick tests. Are you up for it?"

"Yes, sir," Chloe rasped. "May I have some water first?"

"Sure," Dr. Swanson said, nodding to Beca.

Beca poured a small amount of water into a cup and put a bendy straw into it. She held the straw to Chloe's mouth. Chloe closed her eyes as she sipped the water. Chloe put her hand up as if to push the cup away.

"Better?" Beca asked as she moved the cup.

"Yes," Chloe said, sounding much better. "Thanks."

"Captain Beale," Dr. Swanson said, regaining her attention. "I'm going to need you to pay attention to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said, nodding her head.

Dr. Swanson moved to the end to the end of the bed; Chloe moved her head and followed him with her eyes. Dr. Swanson raised his hand with his index finger up.

"Follow my finger with only your eyes please." He moved his finger left then right, then up and down.

Chloe did as instructed and followed the finger without any issues.

"Good, good."

Dr. Swanson moved to the side of the bed and held out both hands, all but one finger closed in toward his palm.

"Pull my fingers toward you."

Chloe grabbed his fingers and did as instructed as Dr. Swanson pulled against Chloe's grip.

"Excellent. Now, push my hands away from you."

Dr. Swanson pushed against Chloe's hands as she did the same to his.

"Excellent," Dr. Swanson said. "How do you feel? Any pain or headaches?"

"No sir," Chloe responded.

"That's good," Dr. Swanson said. "I know you're probably wondering what's going on. What's the last thing you remember?"

"We were ambushed and got pinned down," Chloe said, sitting up suddenly. "Emily! Do you know what happened to Private Junk? And the rest of the squad."

Beca reached over to pull the privacy curtain open.

"Emily's right here and she's okay," Beca said as a waving Emily appeared.

"Oh, thank God," Chloe murmured. "What about the rest of the squad?"

"They're all here, too," Emily said. "Lots of injuries, but we didn't lose anyone. I swear."

Chloe nodded and laid back on the bed and looked at Dr. Swanson.

"You were saying, doctor."

"Right, um, you suffered a traumatic brain injury so we put you in a medically induced coma until the swelling went down. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've been in the coma for about a month. All the tests show that your brain seems to be functioning properly, but you will need some physical therapy to help your body recover. Do you understand?"

"I need physical therapy," Chloe said. "Got it."

"Good," Dr. Swanson said. "We'll get you started on that within the next day or so. Nurse Mitchell will set it up for you, okay?"

Beca nodded as did Chloe.

"Do you have any questions?" Dr. Swanson asked as he finished explaining everything to Chloe.

"How much longer will I need to be here?"

"That all depends on how well you do with your physical therapy," Dr. Swanson responded. "I would suspect at least a few more weeks, possibly a month."

"Um, can I have something to eat?" Chloe said.

"We'll start you off with a liquid diet," Dr. Swanson said. "Clear broth and liquids for a day or two. We don't want to upset your stomach too much. Beca will call down and have a tray sent up for you."

"Thank you," Chloe said.

"You're welcome, Captain," Dr. Swanson said. "I've got other patients to see, but I'll check back later."

"Okay," Chloe said as Dr. Swanson left the room.

"Do you need anything else?" Beca asked.

"Just something to eat, please," Chloe responded.

"I'll order that straight away," Beca said. "Is there anything else you need?"

"Will you come back and talk to me?" Chloe asked. "I know this is going to sound weird, but I swear I could hear your voice talking to me while I was in the coma. You have a very comforting voice."

"Sure," Beca said, blushing slightly. "I can come back later."

"Thanks," Chloe said.

"Emily, do you need anything?" Beca asked, turning to look at her other patient.

"No, thanks," Emily said. "I'm good."

"Okay then," Beca said. "I'll be back shortly. Just press the call button if you need anything else, Captain-."

"Call me Chloe."

"Okay then," Beca said, stopping at the door to look back at Chloe. "I'll be back shortly with some food…Chloe."

Chloe watched Beca leave; Emily giggled.

"I think someone is smitten," Emily said, looking at Chloe.

Chloe blushed slightly but didn't say anything.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~~

Two weeks after Chloe woke up, Emily was ready to go home. Chloe was in PT when Emily's parents came in; they both gushed over their daughter's remarkable recovery.

"I'm only here because of Captain Beale," Emily told her parents. "She dragged me away from the caravan before another bomb exploded. I'm the reason she got injured. She had gotten away from the trucks safely. If she hadn't come back for me, she would never have been close enough to the caravan to get knocked out. She had to be put in a coma to heal."

"We'll have to make sure to thank her when we see her," Mrs. Junk said.

"She's in PT and won't be back for several hours," Emily said. "I'll check on her later and pass on your thanks. But, now I really just want to go home."

"Okay, sweetie," Mr. Junk said. "We'll leave as soon as the nurse comes back with your paperwork."

"Okay, Emily," Beca said, entering the room right on cue. "I just need your signature and you're good to go."

"Thank you, Beca," Emily said.

"Yes, thank you," Mrs. Junk said. "Emily's been telling how us how great you've been to her."

"Just doing my job," Beca said, shrugging off the comments.

"That may be," Mr. Junk said. "But sometimes a thank you for a job done well, goes a long way."

Beca blushed slightly and looked at Emily as she placed some papers in front of her.

"Just sign here," Beca said, pointing to the line for Emily to sign. "And you can be on your way."

Emily signed where Beca indicated and Beca took the papers back.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Beca said, smiling at Emily. "But I hope never to see you again."

The Junks all chuckled as Beca left the room.

Two and half hours later, Beca wheeled an exhausted Chloe into the room.

"Did Emily leave already?" Chloe asked.

"Yeah," Beca responded. "Her folks took her out of here about two hours or so ago."

"I'm glad I got a chance to say goodbye this morning," Chloe said. "It must have been nice for her to have someone come to take her home."

Beca sensed sadness in Chloe's comment. Thinking Chloe was sad because she wasn't able to go home yet, Beca tried to sound optimistic as she said, "Dr. Posen said you were doing great in PT. Maybe you should call your family and let them know you might be ready to go home in just a couple more weeks."

"There's no one to call," Chloe said softly. "They don't know I'm here. Honestly, the army has been my life for seven years, so I don't have anywhere else to go."

"There's no family you can call?" Beca asked.

"Nope," Chloe said. "My folks disowned me when I joined the Army. They're pacifists and couldn't understand why I thought joining the army was a good idea. I haven't seen or spoken to either of my parents since I left for boot camp."

"What about a friend?"

"All my friends are fellow soldiers," Chloe said.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry," Beca said, chewing on her bottom lip.

"It is what it is," Chloe said. "Could you help me to bed? I'd like to get some rest."

"Oh, um, sure," Beca said.

Once Chloe was settled, Beca left her to rest. She walked to the break room and spotted Stacie sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her.

"What's wrong, Beca?" Stacie asked.

"Can I ask you something personal?" Beca said, sitting across from Stacie.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Do you think it would be weird if I asked Chloe, um, Captain Beale to come live with me when she gets out of here?"

"Um, wow, I was not expecting that."

"I know," Beca said. "I wasn't expecting to ask it, but she just told me she has no place to go. Christmas is just three weeks away and I can't stand the thought of her spending it here with no one coming to see her."

"You've got it bad, Mitchell," Stacie said chuckling. "I knew you were infatuated with her, but I didn't know your feelings were so strong for her."

"What?" Beca screeched. "I do not have strong feelings for her."

"I'd say that was true," Stacie said. "But then we'd both be liars."

Beca scoffed and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly as several thoughts went through her head.

Did she have strong feelings for Chloe? Of a romantic nature?

Would Chloe find it weird if she told her she did?

"Come on, Stacie," Beca whined. "I really want your opinion on this. Is it a bad idea or a really bad idea?"

"Personally," Stacie said. "I think it's a good idea. I can tell you really do like her and from what I've seen of the two of you interacting, she has some feelings for you, too. Plus, you have the space and she has nowhere to go. You're a nurse and she's going to need one for a little while. And, you know as soon as Dr. Anderson 'evaluates' her, he'll tell her she can go home whether she's mentally ready to or not. The only thing that's saving her from being sent home right now is Dr. Posen. So, I think you should let Chloe know she has options other than being thrown out in the streets. Which is exactly what will happen once Dr. Anderson is involved."

Beca sighed because she knew Stacie was right.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~~

Chloe's thoughts were running along the same vein as Beca's. She laid on her back and had one arm over her eyes.

"Is Beca gay?"

"If she is, I wonder if she'd want to go out with me."

"Is it just a crush because she's my nurse and has been taking such good care of me? Or is it something more? Could it become something more?"

"Ugh," Chloe huffed. "Why do I do this to myself? She's probably got a girlfriend or a boyfriend at home."

"Hey, are you okay?" Beca asked.

Chloe moved her arm from over her eyes and looked to see Beca standing in the doorway.

"Um, yeah," Chloe said. "I'm good."

Beca stood in the doorway for a moment. She sighed and finally walked over to the side of Chloe's bed; her brows furrowed as she looked down at Chloe.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked.

"I was just thinking about what you said earlier," Beca said. "And I have an option for you to consider."

"An option for what?"

"For where you can go once you get out of here."

"Oh."

"I have plenty of room," Beca started rambling. "More room than one person needs, actually. My parents are loaded and bought my house for me as a gift when I got my nursing degree. I think they were hoping I'd be married by now and have a couple of kids running around."

Chloe didn't say anything but felt a fluttering in her stomach. She didn't know where Beca was going with this but was hopeful it was going to be something good.

"I need to be honest with you," Beca continued. "I'm gay. So, if that's a problem for you, we can just forget it."

"God, she is so cute," Chloe thought, chuckling before saying out loud, "You haven't said what it is, so there's nothing to forget."

"Oh, right, sorry," Beca stammered. She took a deep breath and said, "I like you. A lot. And I was wondering if you would want to come and stay with me when you get out of here?"

Beca got all that out in one breath. So she inhaled deeply and waited for Chloe's response.

"Yes, but only if you want to explore a relationship with me," Chloe said with a megawatt smile on her face. "And I don't mean just as friends."

Beca smiled back as she stared into Chloe's eyes. "That's the whole idea of asking you to come live with me."

"Good," Chloe said. "I'm glad we're on the same page."

Dr. Swanson walked in at that moment.

"We'll talk more later," Beca whispered to Chloe before stepping out of the way for Dr. Swanson.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~

"You're progressing much better than before," Dr. Posen told Chloe after an exhaustive PT session.

"I have something to look forward to," Chloe said. "Namely getting out of here."

"That could happen very soon," Dr. Posen said. "You're walking well with only a cane for assistance. We just need your psych eval done and I think you'll be out of here in time to celebrate Christmas at home."

"That's the goal," Chloe said. "Thanks, doc."

"Just doing my job," Dr. Posen said with a smile.

"Now you sound like Beca," Chloe said with a chuckle.

"She's a great nurse," Dr. Posen said. "And an even better friend. She told me about asking you to stay with her once you leave here. I think that will be good for both of you."

"I agree," Chloe said. "Can I go back to my room using my own two feet?"

"Sure," Dr. Posen said. "It will be good practice. But just to be safe, I'll follow behind you with the wheelchair in case you get tired."

"Okay," Chloe said as she grabbed her cane and stood.

Dr. Posen grabbed the handle of the wheelchair and motioned for Chloe to proceed. Chloe walked out and Dr. Posen followed close behind her.

They walked in silence for the most part until they reached Chloe's room. Dr. Posen parked the chair in the corner as Chloe climbed into bed on her own.

"Excellent," Dr. Posen said. "I'll let Beca know that you'll be getting out of here sooner than we thought."

"Thank you, Dr. Posen," Chloe said.

"You're welcome," Dr. Posen. "Oh, and Beca's a good friend. Don't hurt her and things will remain good between us. Understood, Captain?"

"You have nothing to worry about in that regard, ma'am," Chloe said without hesitation.

~~ 12 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2021 - Day 08 ~~

Christmas Eve found Chloe sitting on the sofa in the living room, wrapping a gift she had bought for Beca. She had managed to talk to Stacie about it before she left the hospital and Stacie had picked it up for Chloe and dropped it off while Beca was working at the hospital.

Chloe taped the bow on top and smiled down at her handiwork. She put the gift under the tree and made her way to the kitchen. She had something special planned for dinner and needed to get started.

"Chloe?" Beca's voice called out as she entered the house.

"Kitchen," Chloe called back.

Beca made her way into the kitchen and went straight to Chloe. She dropped the bag she was carrying and threw her arms around Chloe's neck, pulling her into a kiss.

"Mmm," Chloe hummed. "I wish you would always greet me like that."

"Play your cards right, Captain," Beca said. "And your wish might just come true."

Beca reached for the bag she had set down. Chloe looked down and saw several brightly wrapped packages.

"What's all that?" Chloe asked, pointing to the bag.

"Gifts from work," Beca said.

"They all must really like you," Chloe said with a small laugh.

"They're not all mine," Beca said. "There's a couple in there for you."

"Really?" Chloe asked, her surprise quite evident in her words and the look on her face.

"Yep," Beca said. "I'm going to put them under the tree and come back to help with dinner."

"Okay," Chloe said.

After dinner, Beca and Chloe were snuggled together on the sofa. Chloe was leaning against the arm of the sofa and Beca was sitting between her legs, leaning back against her. Beca picked up Chloe's hand and started playing with her fingers.

"Growing up, it was a tradition in our house that everyone got to open one gift on Christmas Eve," Beca said. "So, I think we should start our own tradition and do the same."

"I'm okay with that," Chloe said. "Want to do it now?"

"Yes," Beca said. "I know just the gift I want you to open."

"Me, too," Chloe said.

They both got up and went to the tree, grabbing their gifts and taking them back to the sofa. They both sat, facing each other.

"Here," Beca said, handing Chloe the gift. "This is from me."

"This one is from me," Chloe said, handing Beca the gift she had chosen.

"You open yours first," Beca said, smiling at Chloe.

Chloe tore off the paper and opened the box. Inside she found a new pair of jeans and a sweater.

"This is perfect," Chloe said. "I was hoping to do some shopping after Christmas so I had something to wear besides my army greens."

"The color of the sweater matches your eyes," Beca said.

"Thank you," Chloe said, giving Beca a quick kiss. "Now open yours."

Beca shook the small box and Chloe laughed. Beca was smiling as she tore the paper off and opened the box. She gasped and looked at Chloe.

"Chloe?" Beca said softly as Chloe took the box and pulled out the ring that was inside.

"It's just a promise ring for now," Chloe said. "I know it's High Schoolish but I wanted you to know that I'm in this for the long haul. This ring is a promise that sometime in the not too distant future I'll be replacing it with a real engagement ring. If you are so inclined to accept."

"Yes," Beca said as a tear ran down her cheek. "I'm in this for the long haul, too."

Chloe took Beca's left hand and slid the ring onto her ring finger. "I kind of love you, you know."

"Guess it's a good thing that I kind of love you, too," Beca said, pulling Chloe into a heated kiss.

#Christmas 2021 #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloeislegit

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doofbox-hero · 3 years

Text

Guide to Dio or D_Human or Doofbox-Hero

I've never been consistent a day in my life but here I go trying to be a big boy writer and artist. I'd like to start posting stuff at least once or twice a week and I'd love it even more if you'd support me. I've got quite a few fingers in pots and here's how you can keep up with me. Obviously following me here is a pretty decent start.

But also did you know I have an AO3. Shocker I know, especially since most of my active followers are people who follow my writing lol. I mostly write Wolfstar AUs and stuff connected to lumosinlove's Sweater Weather. There might be more in the future, who knows. Here's a link to my AO3.

I recently made a ko-fi! I'm a trans, disabled artist who can always use some help. But also I'd like to try to start doing suggested prompts and/or commissions. You can simply send by ask but not gonna lie, I'll be more motivated if you send in a submission by ko-fi. Here's a link to my ko-fi.

I have a twitter? I rarely post on it? But maybe I'll do that more? Idk. Here's a link to my twitter.

(Edited) I also have an Instagram. This used to lead to my personal Insta but since I made a fanfic one I figured I might as well share that one now. So here's a link to my Instagram.

I don't have much else. I guess if you wanna check out some past writing of poetry or life updates I have two old blogspots. I'll link them last. I may update this with current things like paypal pools/gofundmes/events/etc or if I ever start a Patreon which is a far future goal probably. Blogspot 1 and Blogspot 2.

(New) I have a few different Amazon wishlists I'm gonna share just in case for some reason you're rather buy me stuff than give me money to my ko-fi. It's November as I'm making this addition so the first major list will be my Birthday/Christmas list since I'm turning 25 in a new city and am pretty sad and lonely. I'll also include a list with stuff to help with my disability (wheelchair add-ons, hygiene helping tools, etc) as well as a list with stuff for my new place I need/want.

#guide #dio #fanfic #help #d_human #doofbox-hero #art

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leafy-peyy · 3 years

Text

Christmas Special!

Merry Christmas if you celebrate!! Here’s a little something for you all <3

Brahms

Would be the type to wake up at 3 in the morning to open presents

You will be shaken awake by this man, and as much as you beg to go back to sleep there is no hope

There will be no order when it comes to opening presents, just complete chaos

He would shred wrapping paper

He would make you something! He doesn’t go out so buying something for you is out of the books

You bought a few Christmas records so that the house would be filled with festive music

He has a Christmas jumper, nothing super cheesy, just red with green accents! If you buy him a cheesy ugly Christmas sweater though he would wear it

Imagine staying inside with this man-boy and watching Christmas movies while opening presents

The amount of chaos would be unlimited

Bonus points if y’all are drinking spiked eggnog tbh

I bet you 100% Brahms would build snowmen with you, I mean he is a big child

Poly!Ghostface

You all have a sleepover on Christmas Eve so you can be together Christmas morning

Stu would wake up first and would try to get everyone to get up

You would be fine with getting up, but Billy wouldn’t be moving anytime soon

Billy would just pull Stu and you close to him and tell Stu to shut up (he doesn’t mean it though he’s just sleepy)

Starbucks is definitely getting bought before anything else- coffee is a requirement!

When you open presents you all take turns, wanting to see the reactions when gifts are opened

Billy had a genuine smile the entire time you guys were opening gifts, he’s so grateful for the two of you

You’re probably going to be piss drunk with these two or sober af, no in between

Bonus points if it’s spiked hot chocolate

Stu’s invested in the Hallmark movies as you and Billy scoff,, not surprised honestly

Billy’s the one who tries to buy y’all everything… then complain about how broke he might be

Stu’s our favorite lil rich boy, he definitely goes all out, literally buying whatever y’all look at in secret, how he does it? Nobody will ever know

They both cuddle up with you on the couch, it’s their favorite

Michael Myers

This man doesn’t like Christmas, but if it makes you happy, he’s down

I’m ngl this man is written so cruelly but deep down he does care and he does love you

Will steal you anything you look at, he has 0 chill

His wRAPPING SKILLS ARE WEAK TBH BUT IT’S ADORABLE

You get him a knife set; why not? Man likes knives!

Jason Voorhees

Did you spend the week leading up to Christmas decorating your shared cabin? Hell yeah you did

Jason cut a tree down so you both could decorate it!! It’s not exactly a typical Christmas tree but it works

He also snatched some ornaments from his latest victims so the tree can be as pretty as can be!

Christmas morning you can sleep in as late as you want, Jason doesn’t mind

Having breakfast before presents, just listening to Christmas music and basking in each others presence

You had gotten him a new jacket (The ones he had are a little torn up)

He gets so excited when he opens a gift from you, he will hug you after every present

Cuddles all day long, just cozying up by the fire

Hot cocoa for days, no alcohol though because that isn’t Jason’s cup of tea

Poly!Lost Boys

You arrive at their cave before sunset

The boys haven’t gotten around to decorating, so you decided to do something special for them

When they wake and come into the main room they are s h o o k

Christmas lights? Garland? Christmas tree? WHERE DID THIS ALL COME FROM??

When they see you sitting on David’s wheelchair grinning at them, I think they get the idea of what happened

You are engulfed immediately- Marko and Paul dart as quickly as they can at you (Dwayne and David follow suit, it's Christmas lmao they gotta group hug at least once)

Alcohol? Alcohol

Y’all are going to get hammered I don’t make the rules

Spiked eggnog, Spiked hot cocoa, Spiked EVERYTHING

It’s a party, Paul is singing at the top of his lungs, Marko is dancing to said singing, Dwayne is debating on joining the dancing, and David is still drinking

Marko will pull you into dancing with him and Paul

Ends with you all cuddling

When it hits midnight, a lot of screaming in excitement

Gift exchange time!!

It’s such a positive atmosphere

You sure do love your boys <3

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

our little jellybean

word count: 2.5k

warnings: labor/childbirth, nothing graphic at all, just lots of mentions of pain and contractions and being in the hospital. excessive use of the word “smiled” because I was smiling a lot when I was writing this because dad!harry is literally so cute :)

It had all started very quickly. One minute you were reaching to grab some sheets for the crib, and the next you were gasping and staring at the floor.

"Harry!" You called out for your husband, a little bit in shock.

"Are you ok?" Harry yelled, his footsteps pounding up the stairs.

He rushed over to your side, eyes wide as he asked again.

"What? What is it?"

"I think..." You looked up, face just as shocked as his was. "I think my water just broke."

Harry's face went through about 10 emotions faster than you could even register them. He grinned, which was quickly replaced by a look of panic, which turned into a smile, which then bounced right back to panicked.

"It's- you- are you... really?" He could barely even get a full word out.

"I think so? Yeah, yeah, definitely." You couldn't help but laugh at the shocked look on his face before he bolted back down the stairs. You looked over the banister, confused. "Where are you going?"

You saw his grab his phone, typing furiously before he held it up to his ear.

"Yes, hi, my wife's water just broke!" Harry practically yelled into the phone.

He did not just call 911, you thought.

"Ok, ok, I'll tell her, thank you," Harry rushed out, looking back up at you from the main floor.

"The doctor said to wait until the contractions are 6 minutes apart," He said, panic still evident in his voice.

"I know, Harry, I could have told you that," You said. "Why did you feel the need to call the doctor? And why are you down there when I'm up here?"

"Right, right, don't abandon your wife when she's about to have your baby!"

He took the stairs two at a time, pulling you into his arms.

"I can't believe you're about to have my baby," He said, beaming. Then his face went back to terrified.

"But wait, it's too early! It wasn't due for another two weeks! We don't even have a car seat, I was going to get one tomorrow!"

"It will be fine, two weeks isn't even that early. Babies are born way earlier than this little jellybean all the time and they're just fine. And it's my first baby, so I'll probably be in labor for a while. My contractions haven't even started yet, so we have plenty of time to buy a car seat," You said, trying to calm him.

"Right, we can just go get one right now," Harry said. "How are you so calm right now? Why am I the only one freaking out??"

You laughed. "Do you forget that I'm a nurse? In a labor and delivery unit? Harry, this is literally my job."

"Right, yes, I did forget," he smiled sheepishly. "But I'm allowed to forget things, because we're about to meet our little jellybean!"

His smile was contagious, and you couldn't help grin with him as he pressed his hands to your stomach.

"Did you feel that?" He gasped as the baby kicked.

"I did, Harry, it came from inside me," You said, laughing.

"What are we going to name her?" He wondered, ignoring your words. "Personally, I like jellybean, but I think she might get bullied."

You laughed, pulling away to look at him. "You're right, we do need to pick something. We don't have to decide right now, but we should probably narrow it down a little."

"I think Brooke is my favorite from the list," He said, forehead furrowing thoughtfully. "But I also like Amelia."

"I'm really glad you agreed on Grey's Anatomy names, because that might have been a deal breaker," You said, donning a very serious face.

He laughed, shaking his head. "What about you? You do get a say, being the baby's mother and all."

"I'm kind of on the fence between Cristina and Amelia. I like both but I don't want people shortening her name, I don't like Crissy or Amy or something weird like that."

"Hmm, you're very picky," He observed.

You pushed his shoulder, smiling.

"I'm allowed to be picky, it's a child I carried for nine whole months. So it's between Amelia, Brooke, and Cristina. I kind of think we won't know until we see her, you know? Like, we'll look at her, and say "she looks like a Brooke" or whatever."

Harry smiled, pecking a quick kiss to your cheek. "Sounds like a plan. Now, we really should go get that car seat."

You had been browsing for nearly an hour, Harry managing to find something wrong with every single option. You found it incredibly amusing that he was the one being picky about all of this. He had been the same with the crib, the dresser, the onesies, the bottles, even the pacifiers. You let him have his way, though. Every time you not-so-politely suggested he just "pick one, for the love of all that is holy" he would turn his puppy eyes on you, saying how he just "wanted everything to be perfect for our little jellybean." How could you say no to that?

"This one?" You pointed to one of the last car seats in the row. "It looks good, and it's a good brand."

"Hmm... no. I don't like the color palette."

"Harry," You said, trying very hard to keep the exasperation out of your voice. "Darling. Sweetheart. My wonderful husband. Please, I am begging you, just pick one. I know you want everything to be perfect, but all of these are good-" You stopped in the middle of your sentence.

Harry's eyes snapped up from the box he had been inspecting, looking at you with great concern.

"What happened?"

"Uh, just, that was a contraction, I think," You said, a rush of nerves washing over you. "Yeah, a contraction. It's... it's starting, but, like, for real," You managed to get the words out.

"Ok, time to go to the hospital! Let's go meet our baby!!" Harry could hardly contain his excitement.

"No, Harry, it's not. I'm sorry, but we're waiting until they're 6 minutes apart, just like the doctor said."

"But-"

"Harry, if we go now, they're just going to send us home until I'm further along. Let's just go home and finish up everything we can, and please just pick a car seat."

Harry hesitated for less than a second before grabbing one of the boxes he hadn't completely hated. You smirked as you exited the store.

"Maybe I should go into labor more often. I've never seen you make a decision so fast."

He squinted suspiciously at you.

"Did you actually feel something, or did you just pretend to get me out of there faster?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I did, seriously. This time, at least. I make no promises about next time."

You had three more contractions in the time it took to drive home and put the finishing touches on the nursery. Harry timed each one precisely, down to the millisecond.

"Harry, it's really more of a minute thing, you don't have to be that exact," You said, laughing at the concentration on his face.

"No, I do, because the second you're at six minutes apart, we are going straight to the hospital," He said, still intensely focused on the stopwatch on his phone. "18 minutes, 32 seconds, and 51 milliseconds."

"Alright then. Why don't we watch a Christmas movie? It'll help the time pass faster," You promised.

The pain came more and more frequently as the movie played. You tried to mask your face, but Harry could tell each time a new contraction started. He insisted you squeeze his hand every time, watching your face intently.

By the end of the movie, you had to admit it was getting pretty bad.

"Harry- I think -ow- I think it's time to go," You said through a particularly nasty contraction.

"Really? For real?" He said, jumping up from the couch.

"Yes, for real. Let me get my bag-"

"No, no, I'll get it, you just wait here and I'll be right back!" He said, bounding up the stairs.

When he came back down, he was wearing the biggest grin you'd seen since you told him you were expecting.

"I'm so excited to meet our little jellybean!!!" He smiled, hugging you tightly.

"Me too, Harry, but we have to get to the hospital first," You reminded him.

"Let's go!!!" He was practically bouncing on his feet as he led you out to the car.

He loaded your bags into the back, next to the car seat he had so carefully installed.

By the time you were pulling up to the hospital, the pain was almost unbearable. Harry parked in a spot he definitely wasn't supposed to park in, jumping out and running to get a wheelchair. A nurse greeted you at the door, wheeling you inside while Harry sped away to find a parking space.

"He's an eager one, isn't he?" The nurse laughed.

"I think he's more excited than I am," you joked. "He's been like a kid all day, asking every five minutes if it's time to meet our little jellybean yet."

"Well, that's good! Not all fathers are so loving and supportive of their wives."

"Yeah, I got pretty lucky with him," You smiled.

"You certainly did," She said, wheeling you into a room just as another contraction hit.

You clenched your fists, really wishing you had Harry's hand to hold.

Just in time, he ran into your room carrying your bags. He dropped them by the bed, helping you up from the chair.

"Did- Did you run all the way up here?" You asked, squeezing his hand.

"Sprinted, actually," He panted. "Did I miss anything?"

"Oh, no, I've been having a lovely time," you said sarcastically. Then you felt bad for snapping at him. "I'm sorry, that was mean. Thank you for being so supportive."

"You're allowed to be mean to me today, you get a free pass," He laughed.

"You're going to regret saying that when my next con-" Your words were cut off with a gasp when the pain stabbed through you again.

"It's ok, it's ok, squeeze my hand, that's it, just like that," He soothed.

"I don't want to -ow- I don't want to hurt you!"

"You can hold on as tight as you need, I promise you won't hurt me, love," He said, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Another thing you're going to regret saying!" you yelled, grasping him as tight as you could.

As soon as the pain eased, you let go of his hand. "Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

"Stop worrying about me, I'm not the one having a baby right now! You're not hurting me, and even if you were, I wouldn't say anything because the only thing that matters right now is you and our little bean in there." He leaned towards you, pressing his lips to your belly. "By the way, how are you doing in there, little bean?" He paused before smiling up at you. “She says she’s doing just fine, and she’s very excited to meet us.”

Your labor continued like this for a few more hours, with you constantly apologizing and him constantly telling you it was fine.

Your pain only got worse as the hours went on. Eventually, you stopped caring what you said to Harry, instead opting to blurt out whatever came to your mind. You figured it was ok. He had given you a free pass, after all.

"I hate you so much, you did this to me!" You cried, still not letting go of his hand.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, it's my fault," He soothed, handing you a cup of ice chips.

"I'm sorry again, I don't really hate you, I just-" you cried out again. "Nevermind, I actually really, really do hate you!"

"I know, but you're doing so well, love, and soon we'll get to see our baby girl. Just keep thinking of her, our precious little jellybean," He said, wiping a tear from your face.

A midwife came in, explaining that she just needs to examine you quickly. Then she looked up at you, smiling. "It looks like it's time to push. Are you ready to meet your baby?"

You looked into Harry's eyes, breaking into a smile.

"We finally get to see our bean."

It was official. You had never seen anything more precious. You looked down at the tiny pink bundle in your arms, and you smiled so hard it hurt.

Harry was sitting on the bed next to you, arm around your shoulder.

"So... do you still hate me?"

You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm.

"Just a little bit. My vagina really hurts."

He laughed, reaching over to stroke the baby's cheek. "Yeah, that's my bad." He said, smiling. "She's just... so amazing," He beamed. "I'm already in love."

"Me too," You giggled.

"Look! She grabbed my finger!" He whispered excitedly.

"Looks like she loves you just as much," You said, smiling.

"I know,” He said admiringly. “Now that she's actually here, we should really pick a name," He said, not taking his eyes off her face.

"Yes, right, we have to-" You gasped when she opened her tiny eyes and looked up at you. "Harry! She has your eyes!"

"Oh, she does, and she's just so adorable," He cooed, beaming. "Wait, no, I keep getting distracted by how cute she is. The name. I don't think she looks like a Cristina. Sorry, but... I think she looks like a Brooke."

"Well, of course you want to go with Brooke, that's the name you already picked."

"Hey hey, I said I liked Brooke AND Amelia. Since I vetoed Cristina, I... will make the ultimate sacrifice and let you pick from those two." He said, very dramatically.

"That's very kind of you," You said, smiling. "But... actually..."

"What is it, love?"

"Well- I don't know if you... I thought, maybe..."

"Y/N, what is it? It's fine if you want to pick something different, but just know I'll always hold it over your head how ironic this is, how you got mad at me for being indecisive about car seats and yet here we are-"

"What if we call her Stevie?" You rushed out, blushing when he stopped abruptly.

For the millionth time today, his smile seemed to light up the entire room.

"You want to call her Stevie? As in- really?"

"I mean- only if you're ok with it- if you don't like it we can go back to Brooke-"

He cut you off, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"I would love to call her Stevie,” He said, grinning as he pulled away.

"Ok, good," You said, sighing in relief. "Because that would have been really awkward if you said no."

He laughed, hugging you closer.

"I have to call Stevie- not the baby, but the other- you know who I mean- she's going to be so excited," He said, smiling. "But maybe not right now- I just need a few more minutes to look at her."

You beamed, resting your head on his shoulder.

#Harry Styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #baby #babies #pregnancy #dad!harry #stevie fics #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 8

(Y/n)'s POV

I know someone at camp resents Percy and me because one night, I come into the cabin alone and find a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article takes me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I get, the more the words float around on the page.

GIRL, BOY, AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT

By Eileen Smythe

Sally Jackson, son Percy, and daughter (Y/n) are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.

Mother, daughter, and son had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traces of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signs of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.

Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson, Percy Jackson, is a troubled child who has been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and has expressed violent tendencies in the past.

Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his sister's and his mother's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson, (Y/n), Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free Crimestoppers hotline.

The phone number is circled in black marker.

I wad up the paper and throw it away, flopping down on my bunk on the far edge of the cabin under the window facing the sea.

I remain silent as Percy walks into the cabin, flopping down onto his bunk as well.

That night, I have the worst dream yet.

I was running along the beach in a storm. This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked, and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Give it back! Like a kindergartner fighting over a toy.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting!

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice.

Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down!

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the center of the earth. My feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I wake up, sure I'm falling.

I am still in bed in Cabin Three. My body tells me it's morning, but it's dark outside, and thunder rolls over the hills.

A storm is brewing.

I hadn't dreamed that . . .

I hear a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?" Percy asks, sounding uncertain.

Grover trots inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see the two of you."

"Why?" I ask, peeking through the curtain separating mine and Percy's side of the cabin.

'He wants to kill . . . I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, Percy and I get dressed and follow, sure we were in huge trouble.

For days, Percy and I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that we were declared children of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figure it's just a crime for us to be alive. The other gods had probably been debating on the best way to punish us for existing, and now Mr. D is ready to deliver their verdict.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looks like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain is coming in our direction. I ask Grover if we'd need an umbrella.

"No," Grover says. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

Percy points at the storm, 'What the heck is that, then?"

Grover glances uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

I realize that he's right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.

But this storm . . .

This one's huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin are playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysius's twins - Castor and Pollux - are walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everyone is going about their normal business, but they look tense; they keep their eyes on the storm.

Grover, Percy, and I walk up the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sits at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sits across the table in his fake wheelchair. They are playing against invisible opponents - two sets of cards hovering in the air.

"Well, well," Mr. D says without looking up. "Our little celebrities."

I wait.

"Come closer," Mr. D says. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortals, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashes across the clouds; thunder shakes the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus grumbles.

Chiron faints interest in his pinochle cards and Grover cowers by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus says, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron puts in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus says. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr. D - " Chiron warns.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relents. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rises, and the invisible players' cards drop onto the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you two must do."

Dionysus picks up a playing card, twists it, and it becomes a plastic rectangle. A security pass. He snaps his fingers. The air seems to fold and bend around him. He becomes a hologram, a wind, then he is gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiles at me and Percy, but he looks tired and strained. "Sit, Percy,(Y/n), please. And Grover."

We do.

Chiron lays his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

"Tell me, (Y/n)," he says. "What did you make of the hellhound?"

Just hearing the name makes me shudder.

Chiron probably wants me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I don't feel like lying.

"It scared me," I admit. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."

"You two will meet worse. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done?" Percy asks. "With what?"

"You're quest, of course," Chiron says. "Will you accept it?"

I glance at Grover, who is crossing his fingers.

"Sir," I say, "you haven't told us what it is yet."

Chiron grimaces. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbles across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I can see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I guess. "They're fighting over something valuable . . . something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchange looks.

Chiron shoots forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And...I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover says, his eyes bright.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron orders.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes sparkle with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine," Chiron strokes his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, (Y/n), you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughs, looking nervous, "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warns. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron says, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?" I guess.

"Stolen," Chiron corrects.

"By whom?" I ask though I guessed what he was going to say.

"By you two," Chiron says and Percy's jaw drops.

"At least"—Chiron holds up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon argued. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't - We didn't -" Percy goes to say.

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron says. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you two as his children. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief.

"But we've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron and Grover glance nervously at the sky. The clouds don't seem to be parting around us, as Grover had promised. They are rolling straight over the valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.

"Er, Percy . . . ?" Grover says. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggests. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy.

"The Golden Net?" I guess again. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods trapped Zeus in it and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler?"

"Correct," Chiron says. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you two have come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But we're just kids!" Percy protests.

"Percy," Grover cuts in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, and that he's father, not one, but two mortal heroes who might be used as a weapon against you . . . Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I - we didn't do anything, Poseidon - our dad - he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Percy asks, and I remain silent in thought.

Chiron sighs. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a fullfledged war would look like, Percy? (Y/n)?"

"Bad?" Percy guesses.

"I'd guess that it would be like nature at war with itself," I say and Chiron nods.

"Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight," Chiron adds to (Y/n)'s statement.

"Bad," Percy repeats.

"And you, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

And then, it starts to rain. Volleyball players stop their game and start in stunned silence at the sky.

We had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of us.

"So we have to find that bolt," I say. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron says, "than to have the son and daughter of Poseidon return Zeus's property.

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" Percy asks.

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression is grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago...well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell us where the bolt is beforehand?" Percy asks.

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

I swallow thickly. "Good reason."

"You agree then?" Chiron asks.

I exchange a glance with Percy, then Grover, who nods encouragingly.

Easy for him, I think. We're the ones Zeus wants to kill.

"All right," Percy says. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron says. "Go upstairs, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

. . .

"Well?" Chiron asks us.

We slump into our chairs at the pinochle table. "She said we would retrieve what was stolen.

Grover sits forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron presses. "This is important."

My ears are still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She said we would go west and face a god who had turned. We would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover says.

Chiron doesn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"

"No," Percy says. "That's about it."

He studies Percy's face, then meets my green gaze. "Very well. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

I get the feeling he knows we're holding something back, and he's trying to make us feel better.

"Okay," Percy says, looking anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron says."if Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain."

"Someone else who wants to take over?" I guess.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades," I say, raising an eyebrow.

Chiron nods. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbles out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh - what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminds him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but - but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protests. "Especially if he has found out Percy and (Y/n) are children of Poseidon . . ."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continues. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy and (Y/n) to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill these young half-bloods before he can take on the quest."

"Great," I mutter. "That's two major gods who want to kill us."

"But a quest to . . ." Grover swallows. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in someplace like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy and (Y/n) must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

A strange fire burns in my stomach. The weirdest thing is, it isn't fear. It's anticipation. The desire for revenger. Hades had tried to kill me two times so far with the Minotaur, and the hellhound. It is his fault my mother had disappeared in a flash of light. Now he is trying to frame me, my dad, and my brother for a theft we hadn't committed.

Grover is trembling now; he'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.

The poor guy had to complete a quest with me and Percy so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that is, but how can I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said we were destined to fail?" This is a suicide mission.

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy tells Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron says. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"You're saying I'm being used," Percy says.

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed you and (Y/n) now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs the two of you."

My dad needs us.

Emotions roll around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I don't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.

3rd Person POV

Percy looks at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said . . . I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

(Y/n) gets the feeling that there is a lot he wasn't telling them about the prophecy, but she decides that she couldn't worry about that at the moment. After all, she and Percy were hiding back information too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy says. "We're supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron says.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

(Y/n) looks over at Grover, who gulps down the ace of hearts.

"But I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asks weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy tells him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh . . ." He shifts his hooves. "No . . . it's just that satyrs and underground places . . . well . . ." He takes a deep breath, then stands, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his t-shirts. "You saved my life, (Y/n), Percy. If . . . if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let the two of you down."

Percy feels so relieved that he wanted to cry, though he didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover is the only friend she'd ever had for longer than a few months. Percy isn't sure what a satyr can do against the forces of the dead but he feels better knowing he'd be with them.

"All the way, G-man," Percy turns to Chiron. "The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looks surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

Percy's POV

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane -"

"No!" Grover shrieks. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me and (Y/n) anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.

"Percy, think," Chiron says. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

Overhead, lightning crackles and thunder booms.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, not looking up at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron says. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered if you will accept her help."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Gee," I say, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a suicide quest like this?"

The air shimmers behind Chiron.

Annabeth Chase becomes visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain," she says. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

"If you do say so yourself," I say. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks flush. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth is, I do. I need all the help I can get.

"A quartet," I say. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron says. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashes. Rain pours down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron says. "I think you should all get packing."

Word Count: 4018 words

#percy jackson x sister reader #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert #female reader #reader insert #fem reader

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prorevenge · 4 years

Text

Bridezilla Karen ends up looking like a pauper at her own wedding.

I (F48) have known “Pat” (F48) for decades. As far as I can remember, she was fixated on having 5 children and a picket fence dream life. I slowly cut ties with her in college because she was an opportunist and I didn’t trust her. She is both manipulative and forceful. Her idea of cute rubs me the wrong way. Pat likes to walk like a penguin when she wants to elicit pity, and she usually does this when she wants to evoke the underdog narrative. I’ve never seen someone act so despicable and ridiculous at the same time.

I moved on with my life. Happily got rid of her for years. Pat eventually found me on facebook. I accepted her friend request out of politeness.

Pat has become the epitome of a permissive mother. Her (5) kids do as they please and she never calls them out. She tried to force a relationship between me and her daughters and made them call me Auntie. Pat tried to drop them at my house uninvited. Her phone calls were insistent, she tried to monopolize my time and she began to show up at my job. I created some boundaries so she tried to find loopholes. It was a nightmare.

My husband and I hosted a party for the community center (not the real name) new members. The community center is actually a very informal initiative and my husband and I mainly serve the homeless population. We prefer to help strangers instead of catering to potentially narcissistic acquaintances. We don't mind lending a hand but we have encountered truly dishonest choosing beggars.

There are other services, like one of the members who helps women get their wedding and prom dresses for free.The community center location “headquarters” is actually a farm owned by an elderly couple. There is a barn, a venue and a very nice green field with an artificial lake and some fowl. They charge for the use of their facilities (weddings , etc.) but not for community oriented stuff.

Pat had always been salty at her husband for demanding that she go back to work after baby #3. In the meantime, he worked three jobs. She demanded he get her pregnant to fulfill her dream of having 5 kids. He didn’t agree, because he was already nearly 45 and felt like he might never be able to retire. She got away with bringing new babies into this world anyway. Her fascination with being pregnant comes from all the attention she gets. She had at least one miscarriage in between each kid.

Pat latched on to our group. She never missed any of our activities. I hated having her in my house, but it was an open invitation that included virtually everyone and she was very active as an event organizer. I didn’t like the way her kids behaved. We have a designated area for parties and entertainment, but her kids ended up inside my bedroom. We ended up having to keep watch of them and enjoyed zero of our own party.

I called her days later to get my point across (regarding their overall behavior) but she completely cut me off and began talking about herself and said her kids wanted to come visit again and use our pool. I never answered that. I didn't want to say “no, I will not have your brats over”.

She also called me as summer was approaching specifically to let me know her middle daughter was bored and wanted to spend a WEEK at our home. I politely declined, citing that me and my husband have to work and cannot entertain guests. .

Pat paid no heed. Her kid called me on the weekend,calling me “auntie” and attempted to coax me by saying “Mom says you invited me to spend SUMMER with you”. I quickly clarified, and offered an explanation to avoid hurting a kid’s self esteem. Nevermind. Her daughter just hung up on me.

Pat’s facebook also showed some red flags. Some cryptic rants here and there were visible, along with friends’ comments and complaints on how she asked a particular person to watch her kids only for a couple of hours and ended up leaving them all day. Another of her friends criticized her “girls night out “ because Pat had just asked them to be patient and wait until she could pay back some money that she owed them, yet she had money to spend on Friday night outings. I thought those very public comments on private matters were more like a cry of lost patience.

Unpleasant things began to happen. Like the time she volunteered to wrap the Xmas presents for underprivileged kids. We all wanted to create a mix of less costly gifts with really nice ones. Surprisingly, some nice and eye-catching toys and games went missing but turned up under her Christmas Tree (courtesy of her mother in law’s FB posts). No one could prove anything but it was hate-inducing. Or the time my daughter called me in tears to pick her up after she attended Pat’s daughter’s birthday (Casey). My daughter had been ignored all night because she didn’t gift her the expensive gaming stuff Casey practically demanded. My daughter did ask, but I said no. We would buy her a very nice and thoughtful present according to her taste. So when I went to pick her up my daughter was sitting alone in the living room while Casey and her friends stayed outside.

Stories about Pat and her family multiplied. The owners at the farm (community center) decided keep their their gates locked unless they had guests or events because Pat got in the habit of driving in whenever she pleased and it was either her kids screaming and disturbing on-going weddings, throwing rocks at the koi in the lake or harassing the geese in the yard. Or how she stiffed another soccer mom with the lunch bill and then pulled the struggling financially card. Or how other parents hated her because she created unnecessary hostile competition.

When my daughter turned 13, I allowed her to wear my grandma’s ring. It's not an expensive piece of jewelry, but it's vintage and girls nowadays wanna look boho. My Granny gave it to me when I became a teenager so I passed it on to my kid so she could wear it on her birthweek.

It was weird that she became quiet and distracted after that. She also didn’t want to go to school and my husband and I became suspicious. She never opened up, and my other kids had no clue.

We went to her school but her teachers assured us nothing had changed in her environment. My husband and I suspected she was being bullied but our kid gave us no tools to support her. My kid is very sunny, and very compassionate. She has never had any problems with other kids. I called her best friend’s mom. Natalie, my kid’s BFF, told us what was going on. Casey (Pat’s eldest) and my daughter had become “close”. I knew this and wasn’t too thrilled. I found the age (Casey was 17) gap not exactly inappropriate but I’d rather see my daughter spend time with friends in the same age range. Casey is very beautiful and a gifted student. She is also very conceited. To make this story short, she asked my daughter if she could try on the ring and refused to give it back. She later claimed that she lost it but “would look for it” so my daughter was distraught. My daughter kept asking for her ring and as a result, Casey shunned her and spread the word that my kid was trying to steal HER ring. Some kids at school took Casey’s side. So now Casey just wore my kid’s jewelry to school like nothing happened. If that doesn’t qualify as taunting I don't know what does.

My guilt comes from not being able to get my daughter to open up and feel safe telling me the truth. I talked to her and she burst into tears. I was both pained as a mother and furious that some teenage b!tch was doing this under our noses.

I went straight to Pat’s car after school. I asked to talk as Casey was about to go in. So I grabbed Casey’s hand and asked to see her jewelry. Casey froze and she tried to make a fist, so I became relentless. Casey yelled “Mom!” and Pat struggled to get out of the car. I slid the ring off (Casey has tiny hands and wore the ring on her index finger). First Pat yelled at me. After I confronted her with the engraving on the band (my grandma's maiden name), she argued it was loaned to her daughter by my kid. Then she said she bought it. I paid no heed. I did warn them that I knew Casey had become an abusive friend to my daughter.

Pat called me to tell me off. She said she was trying to raise an assertive young woman and I had just messed that up by being “overbearing”. She never apologized for her thief of a child.

Pat's husband ( Hank) is what can be described as a doormat. Pat wore him down to a knob. He had no choice but to “obey” her to keep the peace. She was a bully who actively withdrew affection when he didn’t follow her wishes, even in public. So she got kids #4 and #5 after a relentless campaign that included leaving him for two months. Her pregnancies were a nuisance because she expected to be treated like the only lady who has even been pregnant. She strolled around in a wheelchair almost immediately after getting pregnant and she would “get very sick” on weekends, so her kids were often sent to friends and family so that she could “rest”.

Pat systematically bullied Hank. She would leave town and take the kids with her. Poor Hank would look distraught, drinking on his porch or just looking really lonely. This is how she got off the hook and was able to leave her job. Hank had virtually no voice, so he struggled to keep the marriage together. Everyone liked him, but hated her equally. Hank loved to talk to other people but seemed concerned that Pat would be upset. Over time, according to my husband, Hank began to show signs of depression and mental distress.

Our friend, Lenah, runs the wedding/prom dress initiative. It's not complicated. Dresses are sourced from donations, ebay, trunk shows, etc. Unusually beautiful dresses are retained so that more than one bride gets to wear them. In some cases, a bride will pay 50 bucks, but most of the time, the dresses are donated to the bride.

Pat was involved in this. Lenah kept her in because they never had any issues and her task was limited to just shipping the dresses out.

Pat decided to renew her vows and her bridezilla Karenzilla attitude became the icing on the cake. For starters, she bullied another couple into giving up their wedding date at the farm because she “needed her renewal to match her exact wedding date”. They were not impressed with her harassment, so they booked another venue. As a result, the farm owners were pissed because Pat was already costing them money after she had successfully negotiated a cut in their rate “because she couldn't afford it but will repay by doing maintenance work around the venue” (she never made good on her word).

Pat became attached to a particular dress that was already assigned to another bride. Lenah made it clear that she would need to pay for her own dress. So Pat played it cool and shipped the wrong gown instead. She was adamant that it was the right dress, despite all the notes on Leah’s agenda. The other bride was truly gracious about it. She was obviously disappointed, but never made a scene.

What bothered me most is that I picked that dress and bought it for 40 bucks at a garage sale (not my money, Leah’s money). It was a vintage dress, ankle length, white with lots of lace and a huge bargain. Again, when confronted, Pat “did a Casey” and used the “this is mine” strategy. We felt so bad for the other bride that we did our best to get her something nice to wear. The other bride was a true fighter, she had pulled out of welfare, earned her high school diploma and was working to get on her feet by trying to earn a certificate as an acrylic nail technician. So, her reward was to have some Karen steal her dress? Pat never admitted to messing up, but just by the fact that she claimed it was her dress, we knew.

Lenah never allowed her in her warehouse again. Their last phone fight ended with Pat bringing up the other bride’s past (like it mattered) and “this conversation is over, it's my dress and you are mistaken”. That was weeks before the other bride’s wedding.

Pat went all out on her wedding decor. She spent way too much. She hired a caterer for some food (mainly mimosas and appetizers), but the wedding invitation included a request for specific dishes for her Sunday brunch wedding. Either she ran out of banquet money or was on a complete moocher mode.I picture the penguin walking upon practically asking everyone to supply her wedding reception grub and I cringe.

There is nothing wrong with potluck weddings. In fact, they can be a nice addition to a very cozy and family oriented wedding reception. But, don’t you need to at least be close to your guests in order to ask for such a thing? Even I got an invitation. I told everyone I wasn’t going because I was very uncomfortable being told what to bring and was probably expected to give them a cash gift on top of that. Some of the older ladies in our group agreed. Some said they would not decline in advance because she is a bully and they didn’t want a confrontation.

Lenah called me the night before Pat’s re-wedding. Lenah was there to close the Saturday night bingo and Pat was awfully friendly, but that’s what she does whenever things are going her way. Lenah peeked into the garment bag and saw the exact same dress while Pat was caught up supervising the wedding decoration.

The thing with Karens is that they expect everyone to suck it up, or make their dreams come true, or they simply underestimate everyone and think we are all fools.

Lenah is a very straightforward person with a “so sue me” attitude. She told me she would just ruin the dress. After all, it was hers, so she could do whatever she wanted. If Pat wanted to take legal action, and should things get ugly, she needed to prove ownership. However, the dress was the same, the marks inside the hem and the tags were the same. Even the tag numbers that were punched to identify each dress for logistics purposes matched.

Pat had the dress altered, with some extra beading and dyed to a deep cream color. But it was obviously the same garment. Lenah and I snuck in before the venue was closed for the night. All brides are allowed to stay in a small bedroom for a small charge, so that they don’t need to drive in on their wedding day. Honestly, the makeshift chapel was gorgeous, I don’t know how she paid for it but it was full of flowers and presumptuous details. I naively brought in some ink to spill on the dress, but Lenah said she wanted “something more awful, like a nasty surprise”. Ink would be too obvious and if she saw it ahead, she may be able to snag another gown from somewhere. No, the ideal thing was to have her trust the dress was fine. So Lenah locked herself in a bathroom stall and completely cut out the back panel. She patiently put it back on its hanger and zipped the bag. We left through the emergency door with the back of the dress stuffed inside Lenah's purse. I completely hate people who target and steal from anyone they (Pat and her kid) calculate to be in a weaker position.

The wedding was scheduled at 9 AM. Pat called me at 7 AM, but I ignored her calls. I picked up by 8 AM, both curious and wondering if she suspected anything. Pat was frantic.She was crying that her dress was “missing by half”. I purposely made her explain, being annoyingly dense and continually interrupting like she does, and stalling the conversation. She asked me if I could lend her my wedding dress. I said no, sorry. She then asked me if I would help her get a dress. I was satisfied to remind her that the town's bridal shops were closed on Sunday and the others that would open were almost an hour away. The farm is already almost one hour away from our town.

If Pat could get a shop to rent a dress, she would need to try the dress on, and get it steamed. Even if the dress was ready to wear, it would easily take more than two hours (roundtrip). She tried to ask me to go pick a dress (who would pay for this??). Even if a shop were open and brought her a dress, it would add to the cost. Also, these shops open at 10 or 9:30 at earliest. By time they got to her, it would be time to wrap up the wedding because she needed to clear the venue by 12:00 for the next event.

She broke down and mumbled some stupid stuff I didn't understand. So Pat hung up on me and called Lenah instead.. She asked Lenah to bring her “anything she had available”. Lenah and I ended up delivering the most outdated, moss smelling, oversized dressed. Pat’s disappointment was a mix between angry and emotional. She also tried to wear her knee length silk bridal slip as a wedding dress but it was too obvious and it really looked cheap. She tried to get her daughter to give her her own dress to wear with an open back zipper (due to fitting issues) but Casey refused, asking if she was supposed to attend the wedding naked (she got a point, plus Casey is petite).

The dress needed a petticoat to plump up the skirt, which wasn’t available. So it dragged all over the floor and Pat had to keep pulling it up. Pat walked down the aisle with one hand on her bouquet and another one grabbing her dress. The dress looked limp and weird with the arrangements of pins (they didn’t show) that caused the sleeves and neckline to pucker into messy rims. She spent the ceremony looking uncomfortable and out of place. Very few people attended but that was not part of any revenge, that was just how people reacted to her entitled attitude.

The dress looked awful. The reception portion of the wedding had all this princely decoration, a very nice cake and a bridezilla with a dress from hell. I didn’t stay, but I was told, she was so disappointed she spent her wedding sulking. There was no dance, no actual speech. She had to change into a shirt and leggings because the dress was too uncomfortable. Everyone talked about how Pat put on her flip flops and walked around aimlessly until she ordered the ushers to start folding up the chairs within one hour of the reception. So she practically kicked everyone out and the cake was never cut.

Pat wasn’t the same after this.She was not as loud and avoided everyone. I think she was disappointed that nobody ran to her rescue, not even her family who came from out of town.

Her husband finally cracked under all the pressure and sought some help. He was slaving away and coming home to clean the house while Pat used her kids as an excuse to spend like crazy. Hank also had to do kid homework because Pat never had time or never had patience. She also refused to get a partime job so her kids could attend an afterschool and get help with their school stuff. Therapy seemed to help Hank because the last time Pat left with her kids, he didn't seem distraught. He would be riding his bicycle and could be seen more relaxed while mowing his lawn. Hank told my husband that he had contemplated suicide after their third kid. When Pat returned, he maintained the routine but was interested in going out by himself and doing things for himself. We began to see Pat alone all the time. Hank was seen less and less in the same car and eventually moved in with his parents. He filed for divorce on the grounds of emotional cruelty and I don't think he won. Instead (I’m not sure of this because this is what I was told) there was some sort of a settlement or agreement that she would not get close or interact with him unless it has to do with the kids).

I also don’t know if Pat even actually suspected who/what happened to her dress. She slowly pulled away from the community center and became less active in social gatherings. Pat also removed me from her facebook as well as mostly everyone else from school and the center.

TLDR

Bridezilla stole a wedding dress from an underprivileged woman. The actual dress owner destroys her big day.

(source) story by (/u/forestcabin123k)

#prorevenge #by /u/forestcabin123k #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 6

Day 6 - When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area

Pairing(s): Analoceitmus [ambiguous, can be read romantic or platonic, or a mix], QPR Royality

TWs: Injury mention, swearing, Remus being Remus near the end

–

“I’m going to sue him.”, Logan hissed, attempting to sit up in his hospital bed, “Soulmate or not, how can one man possibly be so irresponsible?! I’m definitely going to sue him.”

He winced as he tried to get comfy, but the tough mattress and uncomfortable bunching of the sheets said suffer.

And boy, was he.

Logan Sanders was an immaculate, careful man. Had been since he was a child. A neat and tidy lad who - upon learning of the rules of fate - made it his utmost mission to spare his soulmate any pain or anguish for as long as he could manage.

His soulmate, however, didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

From childhood, Logan found himself with sudden knee pains from scrapes he never fell for, abrasions he had caused no friction to gain, and the occasional shoulder or back pain as if he’d been pushed over when he was standing perfectly upright. At least the universe had decided to spare humanity the anguish of leaving soulmates with the physical injuries that came with the pain, but it was only a minor comfort.

Logan couldn’t say he hadn’t expected a lot of rough and tumble from his soulmate after his elementary school years, but really; a broken leg, facial burns, and a splintered forearm? “This is absolute bullshit.”, he bitterly muttered, “Barely hours apart! How is that even possible?!”

His ranting went ignored by the nurse who came to administer his medication; thankfully science had worked out a wonderful little clear pill that could banish the pain from particularly debilitating soulmate pains. The little bastards were expensive - the true pain is always capitalism within the medical world - but Logan’s job paid handsomely. Say what you will about computer nerds and whatnot, but programming for the right people lets you make some seriously high end bread. None of that homemade farmer’s market shit.

Unfortunately, he’d have to wait about a week for his pains to ebb gently into nothingness until the klutz of a man fate paired him with got into MORE trouble. Thus Logan couldn’t get back to his work. His leg was, for all intents and purposes, broken so the staff couldn’t let him go home. He couldn’t simply drive home himself either, his splintered forearm saw to that. And Logan couldn’t even ask his roommate Emile to bring him his work laptop to try and keep his workload at bay, his left eye was too cloudy and painful to concentrate on a screen.

Yes; his soulmate BETTER be paying his hospital bills.

Realisation struck Logan; his soulmate is obviously just as injured, ergo it’s a high probability that he could be somewhere within the hospital too. Using his good hand to reach for a pen, and absolutely dreading adding to his pain, Logan poked the tip into his good arm, wincing as he first attempted to contact them with simple morse code, “My/ Name/ Is/ Logan. Who/ Are/ You?”

He waited for a response, fearing he would have to start scratching his name onto his arm when he felt the little jabs in response, “Janus.” Great. He FINALLY had a name to put on the lawsuit. Logan, already wincing at the bee-sting pain from the pen, he jabbed out another message,

“Are/ You/ Currently/ Staying/ At/ Stokes/ General/ Hospital?”

The reply came cryptically,

“Yes / I / -”

Logan wasn’t sure why his soulmate had suddenly stopped replying. Had a nurse confiscated whatever his soulmate was using to poke himself? Either way, Logan would have to be content with the knowledge his soulmate was at least close by. He truly had no idea how close until two very disgruntled voices were within earshot of his room door,

“Brilliant, I just adore being ousted from my comfortable bed so I could spend even longer looking at your delightful face.”

“Oh, like you’re the victim here, asshole! You’re the one stabbing yourself and fucking up my unbroken arm!”

Logan watched them both argue outside of his room door. Both men were sporting similar injuries to his own; the first one that had spoken, refined looking gentleman with sharp features and neat blonde hair, had the left side of his face bandaged heavily. Meanwhile the other man, sporting raven hair and eye bags that could carry a month’s worth of groceries, was fitted with a cast on his left forearm. Both of them were on crutches, though Logan couldn’t see if either had a genuine cast.

“Ahem. Gentlemen?”

Logan called to them, watching as both turned to meet his gaze. He lifted the pen in his hand and asked, “I take it one of you is Janus?”

The man with the bandages over his eye, Janus, nodded, “That would be me.”

The man with the broken arm looked confused, “Wait, so, you’re the one who was ramming a pen into their arm? Damn.”, he turned, begrudgingly to the first man, “I guess I owe you an apology then.”

“Really you needn’t-”

“Then I shan’t.”

Janus glared at the other man’s snark, but Logan found it rather delightful. Clearing his throat once more, he breached the topic, “I take it that means we three are soulmates?”

“Four.”

Logan and Janus looked to the third man as he explained, “Your leg doesn’t have a proper cast on it, this asshole doesn’t have one either,”, Janus gifted the man a half glare and a middle finger before he continued, “And since I don’t have one, it’s pretty obvious there’s a fourth musketeer.”

Fair to say, Logan was impressed, even Janus was hiding the tiniest hint of admiration as he retorted, “And are we to call you Sherlock or D’artagnan?”

The man rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, fuck you. My name’s-”

“VIRGIL!!”

The man, Virgil, nearly lept out of his skin, jerking his arm and giving the three of them a jolt of pain. Logan felt relieved he’d only have to put up with it for a few more days once the medicine took effect.

In the doorway stood a man who could only be described as unnecessarily handsome, clad in a burgundy bomber jacket and a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt that seemed out of place on someone who stood poised like the protagonist of a romance anime. Logan noted he and Janus both checked to see if his leg was broken; good to know they had similar tastes even if the man’s lack of a cast dashed their hopes. Said handsome man made a beeline for Virgil, only to receive a swat and a motion to back off,

“Jesus fucking Christ, Princey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!!!”, Virgil hissed and took a deep breath. ‘Princey’ let out a fond huff, “You should be so lucky, Bring Me The Depression, do you know how worried Pat and I were when we couldn’t find you!? This, dearest Emo Nightmare, is karma at its finest-!”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Roman. Where’s Pat? He’s gonna wanna meet my soulmates.”

Roman blinked, finally registering Logan and Janus just watching the two of them reunite. Clearing his throat, Logan made the introductions, “I’m Logan Sanders, this gentleman is-”

“Janus Delgado. Charmed I’m sure.”, Janus butt in, “Really, Logan, I can introduce myself. Unlike some people.”

Virgil flipped him off just in time for Roman to frown in confusion, “And…. you’re all sure you’re soulmates? I mean, no offense but you don’t...”, he picked his words carefully, his face contorting at the effort, “....act like soulmates?”

The three of them looked between one another and shrugged, “To be perfectly fair - Roman, yes? - we have all literally just met today under…. Less than optimal circumstances. I doubt you and your soulmate, assuming you’ve found them, hit it off instantly.”

Roman blinked, “Kind of, we didn’t have any problems like this, quite honestly...”, he almost sounded guilty at that notion, “The worst we have to deal with is his cat allergies-”

Out in the hallway, a couple of nurses hurriedly walked past and allowed another man into the room who immediately lit up at the sight of Roman and Virgil, “There you both are!!! I got held up at the vending machine, but when I came back you were both gone!”

“Patton! How glad I am to see you once more!”, Roman beamed, pulling the taller man into a hug and planting a dramatic kiss upon his cheek, to which Logan, Janus, and Virgil simultaneously met with an ‘ugh’. Perhaps they were more alike than they first assumed.

Patton turned to meet Janus and Logan’s gaze, looking back to Virgil who explained, “They’re two of my soulmates, Pat.”

For a moment, the tall excitable ball of sunshine looked like he was about to pop with joy when Roman held up a hand to interject, “Pardon me, but ‘two of’?”, and cast his confusion towards Virgil who explained, “Our last soulmate has a broken leg, it’s the only injury we can’t account for.”

Patton and Roman shared a momentary look, drawing Logan’s attention, “Roman? Patton? Are you both alright?”. The two seemed to play eye contact rock-paper-scissors to decide who would answer, with Roman losing apparently.

“When exactly did you feel the pain in your leg?”

“Couple hours ago” “Around three?” “Precisely 3:27 pm.”

Came the chorus of answers. Janus and Virgil both shot Logan a look, to which he quietly murmured, “It never hurts to provide a little extra clarity.”

“Apparently so,”, Janus began, before shifting his partial gaze to the couple, “So, are you lovebirds-”

“Qpp’s.”, Patton corrected quietly, to which, Janus did apologise, “Pardon me. So, are you queer platonic saps going to clue us in to why exactly you asked us such a specific question?”

Roman sighed, “I ask because my brother, Remus, broke his leg at that exact same time today. Pat and I were going to visit him right after we’d checked in with Virgil.”

The three soulmates shared a collective look, but the first one to pipe up was Virgil, “You have a brother?! Why am I only finding this out now, I’ve known you for 12 fucking years, Roman! What the fuck!?”

Logan exasperatedly ran a hand down his face as he tried to maneuver himself out of his bed and into one of the hospital’s wheelchairs, Janus offering a hand to him, “Virgil, as much as I would love to listen to you and Roman bicker back and forth, could we possibly save such trivialities for after we meet our fourth soulmate?”

This time Patton piped up, “Oh, um, you may not want to do that just yet-”

As if on cue, roughly six or seven medical staff rushed by, causing Patton and Roman to quickly look around the doorway, only to turn back to the others, “Well, no time like the present. Patton, if you help Virgil, I’ll help Janus once Logan can shimmy into that wheelchair.”, Roman assigned as he offered an arm for Logan to hold onto while he got himself in the chair. Noting the context clues, Logan was rightfully worried, especially as he felt a new pain in his hand, only to note that while Roman and Patton helped them move, Virgil and Janus seemed to be experiencing more pain in their legs than before. In the moment, Logan did feel a little bad that the pill he’d taken hours earlier was saving him from too much additional pain. Approaching the hospital room the medical staff had gathered within, the group were greeted with a wild scene.

A scruffy man strikingly similar in looks to Roman - albeit sporting a thin moustache and silver hair streak - wearing a leg cast was holding a crutch in one hand and an honest to god butterfly knife in the other, standing atop his hospital bed, raving like a lunatic and gesturing frantically to an empty space in the room,

“NOW WILL SOMEBODY FINALLY LET ME OUT OF HERE?! ME AND THIS BEAR WANNA GO CATCH HORNY FISH AND SHIT IN THE WOODS!!”

Charming.

Logan glanced over at Patton and Roman, the question clear on his face just like their answer. That was Remus alright. He watched Roman talk with a nurse trying to calm Remus, “We gave him some painkillers to ease his leg pains, but it shouldn’t be affecting him this much!”

“Oh, Remus has always been like this with medication, I should’ve warned the nursing staff.”, he groaned, “But that doesn’t explain-”

“He must’ve pushed the blue button behind his bed,”, Logan sighed, already anticipating Roman’s question, “The medical staff likely assumed Remus was coding and thus went into action. That’s why they’re here right now.”

Roman’s expression confirmed that was indeed going to be his question. As Roman went to help the nurses tranquilise Remus’ wild flailing, and while his other two soulmates stood by to watch the chaos - in varying degrees of worry and strange admiration bordering on attraction for his disregard for social norms - Logan tried to come to terms with the facts.

He had three very different soulmates, and by the looks of it? He’d have to get used to frequent hospital stays….

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

This one’s probably on the weirder side, but uh, yeah, I hope it’s still a good read! [Also sorry these have been a little late lately TTvTT] @tsshipmonth2020 Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

#analoceitmus #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #royality #qpr!royality #roman sanders #patton sanders #my fics #fanfics #tsshipmonth2020 #soulmate september #this one just went wild #i dunno what to tell you #reads a little more like analogical and demus if i think about it #but whatever it was fun

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

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

CHAPTER 9: Percy Forces Me To Join A Quest

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

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

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

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#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Lightning thief #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #pjo #x reader #Book 1 #Chapter 9 #Fanfiction #fanfictions

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 3 years

Text

Impossible Year

Scoop of the day is a writing challenge with a difference. Each fic is built from a set of (for the most part) randomly generated prompts and could be about just about anything, from breakups to smut to found family. Let’s enjoy some ice cream 🍦!

More info about the challenge here

Pairing: Iida Tensei x Reader

Rating: Gen

Flavour(s): Dulce de Leche

Prompt: 15, Estar en buen año

It has, to say the least, been a difficult year.

~~~~~

Every New Year’s Eve you followed the same routine.

You would kiss your boyfriend good night as he left on patrols, meeting him a few hours later with some kind of snack. He was a responsible man and almost infuriatingly so. In all of the years you had been together, you didn’t remember ever seeing the new year in together. Tensei was always on patrol, always convinced that there would be trouble. Every year you poured yourself a drink and fell asleep by ten.

This year you stayed awake and watched the clock.

It had, to say the least, been an impossible year. Ironic, for it was supposed to have been the best of your life.

You woke up on January 1st to the smell of breakfast and sound of your boyfriend singing along to the radio, pausing only whenever he flipped pancakes and required concentration. He came to your room with a carefully prepared breakfast tray, complete with a small vase in the corner containing a bright red flower.

“What’s the occasion?” you’d asked as he kissed your temple and rested the tray over your legs.

It wasn’t that he never made breakfast, but he didn’t usually go to such extremes. He’d not only decorated each pancake with fresh fruit, but shaped them into smiley faces and love hearts. He’d brewed fresh coffee and poured you freshly squeezed orange juice, wrapping your knife and fork in a napkin as if you were in a fancy restaurant and not sitting there with a bedhead and morning breath.

“Do I need an occasion?” he laughed, but you knew he wasn’t telling you everything.

You were right to think so, for he later pushed a ring box into your hands, nerves and hopefulness playing out across his face in equal measure.

You said yes, of course you did, spending the rest of that day alternating between making love and admiring your ring. You couldn’t wait to break the news to your families; couldn’t wait to plan the wedding.

In a matter of months, however, your dreams shattered to pieces.

You would never forget the phone call from the hospital that changed everything; the sympathy in the doctor’s voice as you shook with tears. You didn’t sleep for weeks. What if something happened to him while you were dreaming? What if you never got the chance to say goodbye?

Of course, in the end those worries came to nothing.

Tensei survived, though his hero career came to a halt. He no longer had the use of his legs and it was unlikely he would regain the ability to walk, much less use his quirk. You were so happy that he had survived that it didn’t occur to you to be upset.

It went without saying that your wedding was postponed. The money you had been saving for the day went on making adjustments to your house instead. You needed a new bathtub, new kitchen shelves and appliances. You needed to widen the doorways to make room for his wheelchair.

You were so relieved at Tensei surviving the attack that you entered your own small bubble without realising. It didn’t occur to you that his own feelings on the matter would be more complicated.

Two weeks before Christmas, you fetched takeout as usual, chattering to Tensei as you plated up.

Before, Tensei had been the one to sneakily bring takeout after coming home from patrols. Unfortunately, your favourite place was up two flights of stairs, so you had gone to the store yourself to keep the tradition alive.

“And so they gave us extra dumplings, isn’t that nice of them?” you said, rummaging through the bags.

Tensei didn’t say anything as you came over, still talking about the restaurant.

“Hey,” you said, poking him in the ribs as you sat down, “are you listening?”

He blinked, startled.

“Sorry,” he said, accepting the plate you held out to him. “I was just thinking, that’s all…”

“Anything interesting?”

“I…”

He watched as you rested your plate on your lap and stuck out your tongue as you fiddled with a sauce bottle.

“I think we should break up.”

You froze. Of all of the things he could have said, you hadn’t expected that.

“I… I wh-”

Immediately, you wondered what you had done wrong. Had you not been supportive enough? Had you said something cruel without meaning to?

“Why?” you said at last, watching as he poked at the food on his lap.

“I just, I keep thinking,” he said. “You deserve a beautiful wedding; a husband that can give you a first dance…”

“Tensei, I…”

“No,” he said, “you’re going to tell me it doesn’t matter to you, but… it matters to me. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around… not like this. It’s not fair to you to have me as a burden.”

“And you think this is fair?”

You didn’t think of him as a burden at all and hated yourself for not making it clear. You’d been so focused on your own feelings and putting things back together that it hadn’t occurred to you to listen.

“(Name), I’m not Ingenium anymore,” he said, patting his legs. “This isn’t like when I broke my arm. I’m probably going to be like this for the rest of my life… there’s so many things you deserve to experience that I will never be able to do.”

You clenched your hands into fists, nails cutting into your palms.

“Stop talking about this like I don’t have a choice in it. Like it isn’t a decision I make every single day.”

“It’s a decision you shouldn’t have to make-”

“And it’s not one you get to make for me!”

This wasn’t your first argument, though it was the first time you’d ever talked about breaking up. You both fell into a shocked silence, not quite knowing what to do next.

“If you want to break up… that’s okay,” you said at last. “You need to do what’s right for you. Just… don’t do it because you think it’s right for me.”

Tensei set aside his plate and pulled you into his arms, clutching you tightly as you both sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m so sorry, I-“

“No,” you said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve paid more attention.”

He cupped your chin in his hands, planting soft kisses on your eyelids.

“I really do love you, y’know,” he said. “I just… even before all of this… I can’t believe you said yes.”

“I know, right,” you laughed, tears slowing right down, “when I met you, you didn’t even know how to do laundry.”

“I was a fast learner.”

You sat back, pointedly looking at the shirt you had on, which belonged to Tensei until he shrank it several sizes.

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“It looks better on you.”

That night ended with laughter and good food, though it wasn’t the last time emotions ran high. Christmas brought with it incredible highs and earth shattering lows, tears of both frustration and joy.

And so it was that you stayed awake on New Year’s Eve, ready to see out this impossible year.

You held a hand over your heart at the final countdown, imagining that past year as a helium balloon. You loosened your grip on it with every passing second, watching it disappear among the clouds as the clock struck midnight.

You smiled and got to your feet, creeping into the bedroom where your boyfriend slept. He stirred as you climbed into bed beside him and planted a kiss on his nose.

“Happy new year,” you whispered in his ear.

This one, you knew, would be better.

#iida tensei #tensei iida #bnha #iida tensei x reader #scoop of the day

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builder051 · 2 years

Text

Starbucks Sunday 12/5

Hey, everyone. I’m kind of having a downward turn. I’m trying not to fuss myself into a panic, but just as I was doing so well with my feeds and energy and productivity and everything, it’s all fading out.

I take a monthly injection for headache/migraine control, and while it usually wears off at the end of the month and I have breakthrough, this month’s dose seems to have been entirely ineffective. My stomach can’t handle anything; I’m taking sublingual Zofran when I push meds into my J (which makes no sense, because the jejunum and mouth are… unrelated?). I get fatigued halfway through the day, even though I have been taking my meds (on cue, every morning and afternoon, with a nice multivitamin and caffeine supplement).

A couple of weeks ago, I was going and going from 7am to 10pm with no stopping. Now I need a midday rest, and I spend at least an hour sitting at the breakfast table feeling sick and pretending to be a people, drinking tea and deleting email.

Anyway. I don’t want to be complaining and annoying and dragging you down. BUT, here’s the real deal: when we have family outings and stuff, even if it’s just for half the day, I’m getting exhausted and feeling kind of ill.

DD and I took the small people to the Dickens’s Living History holiday event (live action play of A Christmas Carol in an open space —built for a ren fair— while visitors walk around and shop and stuff. I totally got my kids into the line for the party jig, and we got to spin around and sprint them down the aisle in their wheelchairs. I’ve completely used up my energy, and my stomach is not thrilled with me, because I’ve had, like, three sips of wassail.

When we get home, I’ll be urgently be looking for a blanket and a cat. When I’m feeling a bit better (this evening, perhaps, or tomorrow), I’ll write a few things.

The prompt list I’m liking for this week is SPECIFICALLY tailored to OCs. I have something like 15 original characters that exist in 3 defined groups. If you’re new around here, or if your thoughts from that far back (I petered off writing with them around 2019) are a bit fuzzy, take a look at the link below, then scroll all the way to the bottom (the fandoms are all listed first).

Thanks for bearing with me. I am so not happy with the way this is going/how my body is behaving. I have dr.appts coming this month and next, and hopefully some appointments for IVIG infusion, so we might have at least a plan for treatment soon???

In the meantime, I’ll do the best I can.

https://builder051.tumblr.com/charactersandfandoms/

#starbucks sunday #original characters

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finleyfray · 3 years

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Bittersweet Memories part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Huge thanks to @captain-josslett for helping me.

TW: smut(ish) just a little, some angst, laguage, mentions of abuse

Maggie sits on a chair holding her trembling girlfriend. She tries to calm Alex down from her panic attack for over an hour.

After Alex was brought back from Finley’s mind, Finley's heart stopped beating. The doctors reacted quickly, but Brainy had to help Maggie get the yelling and struggling redhead out of the room. They sat outside and waited for doctors to tell them Fin’s status.

Alex wasn’t yelling anymore, but she was crying saying frantically that Fin can’t die.

Maggie has never seen the redhead like that. She wonders what Alex saw in Finley’s mind that shook her up this much. But she doesn’t think it will be a good idea to ask her now. She made a mental note to do it later.

After some time Alex calms down enough to look at her girlfriend.

“Will she be okay?” she asks her raven-haired girlfriend.

“She’s strong." Maggie whispers. Trying to encourage them both. But she doesn’t know how Fin is doing and the wait is killing her too. The doctors were still in the room and all they could do was wait. She gently strokes the redhead on the back and closes her eyes. This is bad. She just wishes Finley would be better.

“Hey." They both jumped hearing J’onn voice from the other side of the hallway. They look at him and greet him. “I heard what happened. And I’m really sorry I don’t have any better news. But I need you two badly. Supergirl went on an emergency mission three hours ago, but she’s gone silent. I need a team of the best to go with me.”

“We’ll go.” Alex said standing up from her girlfriend.

“You sure?” Maggie asks hesitantly, looking at the closed door of Finley’s room before looking back up at Alex.

“Yeah, it’s my sister. I need to save her.”

***

The mission was so long and exhausting, but they managed to save Kara and defeat the threat. As they went back to Finley’s room, they saw that there were no doctors in there. That means either good news or really bad news.

And Alex is terrified.

“I...” she looks at Maggie. “I don’t know what to expect. Maybe we should ask for a doctor to tell us how she is…” Alex backs away from the door. Her eyes widened in fear. “I’m scared.” She sobs and her girlfriend hugs her.

“You want me to get a doctor?”

“No, I want to see Fin alive.” The redhead takes a deep breath and opens the door. They walk in and see their girlfriend on the bed, breathing softly and Alex almost cries out in relief. A heart monitor was attached to her and her heart was beating normally.

“She’s alive.” Maggie whispers, and Alex comes closer gently grabbing their girlfriend's hand. She gasps in shock when she feels the black-haired woman squeeze it lightly.

“She’s awake!” The redhead almost yells, feeling the tears of relief falling. “Oh my God, baby, are you okay?!” Maggie comes closer and gently cups the lying woman's cheek.

“Better now...” Fin rasps.

“Oh God, I’m going to get a doctor!” Maggie rushes to the door but Fin's voice stops her.

“No... they already checked me.” Finley says quietly. It looks like she had a hard time talking. Maggie walks back to her side, trying to wipe away her tears, but they wouldn’t stop coming.

“Baby.” The raven-haired woman sobs and grabs gently her other hand. This one had an IV hooked up, and Maggie gently runs her thumb over Fin’s knuckles. “We missed you so much.”

Alex looks at Finley with a huge smile on her face and wipes her own tears. It’s going to be better now. She is sure of that.

***

One week later all of them were sitting in Finley’s room. Maggie, Alex, all of the Superfriends and even Eliza. They were enthusiastically talking about the upcoming Christmas. Finley could leave for the holidays, but she needed to take it very easy. Her broken ribs began healing, her legs were in plaster and she still had to be on strong medication. She was told that it will take a lot of time to completely heal, and a bit more time to get back to work. Fin didn’t mind even if she was in pain, she was just happy to be alive.

Finley looks at Kara and Alex who were talking to Eliza about some exciting mission they were on. Maggie told her how Alex spent all her time with Fin as the shorter woman was in the coma. But now that the redhead was back in the field, she looks way happier. Of course when there was no mission, she was with Finley.

They still needed to talk, but she forgave Alex long ago. No need to stay mad as she clearly saw that the redhead felt guilty.

“You okay?” Maggie asks. She was sitting on a chair next to Fin’s bed. The Detective looks at her with so much love that the black-haired woman forgot how to breathe. She smiles at her girlfriend and leans to kiss her cheek.

“Yeah, I’m good. I just love watching them.” She nods her head at the Danvers family.

“Oh, yeah. They’re cute. Eliza asked about you a lot while you were out. I think you’re her favourite.” Finley laughs and three pairs of eyes look at her. They smile and walk over to the bed. Eliza opens her arms and hugs Fin.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” The older woman says as she pulls away. Her smile is bright and full of warmth.

“Yes, it’s pretty awesome to be alive.” Finley chuckles and yawns.

“All this must have made you tired.” Alex said, stroking her girlfriend's cheek.

“Yeah, a bit.” “Have a nap babe. We’ll be here when you wake up.” Maggie kisses Fin gently on the lips and so does Alex.

Fin smiles and closes her eyes. She hears the door closing and soon she is fast asleep.

***

Maggie was super mad. She had gone to her supervisor’s office, wanting to take two weeks off because of Finley finally leaving the DEO and Christmas.

But her boss didn’t want to hear about that. He refused her vacation yet again. And Maggie had enough. She remembers how she had to come into work every day even when Fin was in a coma. While Alex was excused by J’onn. She couldn’t be there with her girlfriends and Maggie was done. She signed her resignation papers, and gave it to her no former supervisor. Telling him he can shove it up his ass because she is leaving.

***

Finley laughs at a joke Kara told her. Her girlfriend's sister offered to help them get Fin home as Maggie had to work. Alex refused telling that she can handle it herself, but Finley knew that with her in a wheelchair it would be too much for Alex. That’s why she gladly accepted Kara’s help.

The black-haired woman watches her girlfriend packing her things. Lena’s driver was waiting outside the DEO for them in her car. Kara helps Finley sit in her wheelchair.

“You're still in pain.” Blonde looked at her with pity in her eyes.

“Yea, a bit. But I’m really better than I was two weeks ago, so I’m not complaining.” Finley smiles at her friend. “And I can get out of bed, even if I’m rolling on this stupid thing" She frowns. “But I’ll be better in no time, so I’m just biding my time.”

“There’s going to be a lot of work Fin.” Alex warns as she looks over at her. “You’re going to have to learn to walk with a cane and braces on your leg. You’re not just going to miraculously walk one day.”

“Party pooper.” Fin snorts. “Now get me outside, one more minute in here and I’m going to puke.

They went outside and Finley took a deep breath. It was good to go out.

“Sooo nice here! Though I wish there would be snow on Christmas. You know, a bit of white powder wouldn’t be bad for anyone.” She chuckles and looks at Alex who rolls her eyes. “Oh come on, you missed my awful jokes, admit it.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the part I missed.” The redhead sticks out her tongue.

They go to the car and Kara helps Fin get in while her girlfriend puts the bags and wheelchair in the back.

The road was too long for Finley, she just wanted to be home already. After half an hour they were entering the house. To their surprise, Maggie greets them.

“Hey Mags.” Fin smiles, as her girlfriend walks over and hugs her. “Not that I’m bragging, but weren’t you supposed to be at work?” Alex looks equally surprised at the raven-haired woman.

“Yeah, I, well... You know they wouldn’t give me vacation... so I kind of... had enough.” She scratches her head. “Well, I dropped off my resignation. I want to spend more time with you, and I want to be with you, not constantly at work.” Finley frowns.

“You resigned from your dream job... because of me?” She drops her head, feeling guilt fill her.

“No, no! Look at me.” Maggie kneels in front of her and takes her face to force Fin to look in her eyes. “I did not resign because of you. I was really tired. When you went to the DEO, I couldn’t take any days off. Then they had to put you off the ventilator, I couldn’t stay to look after you two. I had to go to work the next day. Yesterday I went to ask him for 2 weeks, because of Christmas, and he refused! Again! And I was done, so I wrote my resignation letter. But I needed to calm down a bit, and think of it more. But then I went to see you in the DEO, and when I told you that I couldn’t be there, you were both so sad, that I decided that my work wasn’t worth it. And yeah, I dreamed of being a Detective, but I also dreamed of having my own family, and I will always put you first.” Maggie gently wipes her girlfriend tears and Alex kneels down to hug them both. It was awkward, with Finley on the wheelchair, but it was full of love. And Fin wonders how she got so lucky, having two such amazing girlfriends.

***

Finley puts on her black shirt with snowflakes and her blue tie. It matches her eyes, and she knows her girlfriends like it on her. She waits patiently for them to help her put on pants. She has to wear sweat pants because of the casts on her legs, but at least they were black, so it wasn’t that bad.

They were going to Lena’s penthouse for Christmas Eve. Eliza decided to stay there because of how big her apartment was. The original plan was to go somewhere nice, all of them, instead of getting each other presents, but they had to change the date because of the accident. So ultimately all of them agreed that once Finley will be able to walk, they all go to Finland.

The black-haired woman was really excited for that trip. She just needed to heal quickly.

Alex came into the room and smiled. She was dressed in black pants, white shirt and a red tie that matched her hair.

“You look nice.” Fin smiled as Alex sits next to her. The shorter woman leans over and kisses her girlfriend. The redhead sighs happily and deepens the kiss.

“You don’t look bad yourself.” She says as she pulls back, needing air from the heated kiss. “I like your tie, it matches your eyes.” Fin giggles and takes her girlfriend's hand.

“Only ‘not bad’?”

“Well these clothes are nice but you would look better without them. Lying on the bed. Whining and moaning.” She puts her hand on Finley's thigh and squeezes. The black-haired woman chokes on air.

“Very smooth agent Danvers. You’re such a pervert.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, she is.” Maggie said as she enters the room. The raven-haired woman decided on wearing a red, black and white flannel shirt and tight black pants.

“Damn it Sawyer, why do you have to look like that!?” Alex rushed to kiss her and Fin had to close her eyes suddenly feeling hot. They don’t have time for that. They need to go out. She heard Maggie moaning and took a deep breath.

“Alex if you could just keep your hands to yourself, we really need to leave in thirty and you’re a horny little shit today.” She feels Maggie’s lips on her and is pushed back on the bed. Her girlfriend sits on her hips and stuck her tongue in Finley’s mouth. Fin’s hands go to Maggie's thighs, as the woman on top of her moves her hips. “We really need to go.” Fin moans.

“And yet they’re saying that I’m a horny little shit.” The redhead chuckles and Finley opens her eyes looking right into the brown ones of Maggie. They were full of love and adoration.

“Hi.” Her girlfriend takes a shaky breath and tries to calm herself.

Well the truth is it was a while ago that they had some fun, with Fin being in coma and recovering, and with her still in pain it was not the best plan to have sex.

“Hi" Finley trembles, feeling her own need burning. “While I love being under you, we don’t have that much time left. And I still need to put the rest of my clothes on. But maybe we can continue this later.” She kisses Maggie on the nose, and her girlfriend slowly stands up from her.

“Maybe...” She kisses Alex on her cheek and grabs her girlfriends pants from the closet. “Let's get you dressed.”

***

Of course they were too late. All because of Alex who pouted that she didn’t get enough kisses. So they ended up making out for half an hour, Alex’s ringing phone stopped them from tearing each other’s clothes off. Eliza was calling to make sure they’ll arrive soon.

“I can’t believe your mom cockblocked us from the other side of the city.” Maggie laughs while wheeling Finley through the parking lot to Lena’s penthouse.

“We’ll I’m kind of glad she did, cause we wouldn’t have left the apartment.” Fin laughs looking at her red-haired girlfriend.

“Ohhhh, do I need to remind you who took my shirt off?” Alex teases.

“Hey, don’t mind me, I just like boobies.” The black-haired woman sticks her tongue out. “I don’t remind you of how you almost came rubbing yourself on my leg.” The redhead takes a shaky breath remembering the feeling, how she was so close when her phone rang. “Though that was pretty hot.”

“Alright, both of you need to stop.” Maggie presses the button to call the elevator. “We are almost there and you keep talking about sex.

“Well... Alex was almost there too.” Finley laughs and the redhead slaps her shoulder.

“I will get my revenge.”

“I’m counting on it.” Finley winks.

“I will cuff both of you if you don’t stop right now.” Both her girlfriends look at her with red cheeks and Maggie face palms realising her mistake. “Not in a sexy way! Just stop already, we’re here.” The elevator doors open and Maggie quickly goes to Lena’s door and knocks. Kara opens it with a bright smile.

“Hey!” She hugs each of them. “You’re late, what happened?” Alex’s face goes as red as her hair, she tries to say something, but she couldn’t come up with anything, so Maggie decides to come to her rescue.

“Hi! My favourite blonde! It’s cold, so our car didn’t want to start. But! We’re here! Merry Christmas!” Finley laughs and she wheels herself in to greet everyone.

She was thankful that Lena and Kara moved some furniture in their apartment to allow Fin to move smoothly wherever she wanted.

“Hey Mags. You said your Aunt is going to be there tomorrow?” Kara asks.

“Yeah, she said all flights were sold out. I have to pick her up from the airport tomorrow morning. She was sorry, next year she’ll think of it earlier.” Maggie laughs while shaking her head. She was a bit sad her aunt couldn’t make it, but she will get there eventually, so there’s no reason to stay upset.

“This is awesome Eliza!” Finley moans as she was finally eating her chocolate cake. Lena and Kara went to a balcony to have some alone time while Maggie and Alex were on washing up duty in the kitchen. “I wish I had a Mom like you" she whispers sadly.

“Oh sweetie.” Eliza comes and hugs her. “I’ll be your mom.” Finley tries hard not to cry from the emotions that are overwhelming her. It was amazing to have such a wonderful family.

***

Later that night Fin was back in her apartment sitting on the couch squeezed between her girlfriends. Her head was on Alex’s shoulder while her legs were in Maggie’s lap. It was their favourite position since Finley came back. It wasn’t bothering the woman’s bruises and allowed them to feel her close enough. Her girlfriends were scared that Finley would somehow disappear. The black-haired woman didn’t mind. Whatever helped them feel better.

“Your mom’s really nice.” Fin mutters to Alex.

“Huh… I guess she is now. Since she stopped blaming everything Kara did on me, we do get along very well. Now I have to share her with you all.” The redhead fake pouts.

“It is what it is.” Maggie laughs playfully slapping Alex’s shoulder. “I still think Fin’s her favourite. I saw them cuddling while we were working hard in the kitchen.” She looks at the younger woman.

“Oh, you know, I just told her that I wished I had a mom like her. My mother died when I was five and I don’t really remember her.” Fin frowns.

“Is that why your father abused you?” Alex asks and they both looked at her in shock. “What?” Finley stammers and gets up swaying a bit. “H-How do you know that?” The redhead looks at her with disbelief.

“I was in your mind? While you were in your coma. I mean you were there too… Don’t you remember? I saw your memories. How you father used to-”

“STOP!” Fin yells. “What the fuck Alex, why did you enter my mind like that?! Those are my memories, you weren’t supposed to see them! Whose fucking idea was that?!”

“Well it was our only chance to help you wake up!” Alex begins yelling too, and Maggie stands between them.

“Fin, please, Alex is right, Brainy calculated that you’ll have more chances of waking up if someone went to your mind and helped you.” The shorter woman tries calming her girlfriends down.

“Oh, nice, so you agree that it’s pretty normal to go to someone’s mind and steal their memories?! That’s just fucking amazing, you two should be proud of yourself!” She turns around and heads to their bedroom limping.

“Fuck.” Maggie whispers looking at Alex. “What do we do now?”

#alex danvers x reader #alex danvers x oc #sanvers x reader #sanvers x oc #maggie sawyer x reader #maggie sawyer x oc #alex danvers x maggie sawyer #polamory

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