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ameagrice · 1 year

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chapter fifteen | play dead

percy jackson x fem reader

this is an extremely long chapter. I’d advise food and a drink before reading ;)

Annabeth winced every few minutes as you walked. Grover would groan and munch on a Campbell’s tin can, and Percy would nudge you and ask if you were okay.

“Course I am,” your brows came together. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just asking!”

You elbowed him gently. “Are you?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah. I’m more worried about Annabeth and Grover than myself, though.”

You eyed the boy up front, still groaning. He tripped over his own hoof. “I think he’s good.”

“And Annabeth? She looks a little…” he tilted his head. “I don’t know, like, hurt.”

You flayed your hands. “That might be because—and get this—she is hurt.”

Percy rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to shove you. You laughed and threw yourself right back, bumping him in to a lamppost. “Ah!”

Annabeth and Grover turned around, and you sent them a brief ‘peace’ sign. They carried on their tin munching and wincing.

“You’re so annoying,” Percy groaned. “I think my shoulder is broken.”

“You’re so dramatic, Percy Jackson,” you sighed, playfully. “Anyway, don’t get too distracted by your elbow.”

“Shoulder.”

“Because—”

“This is it!” Annabeth called up front.

Your little group stood together in front of a records building.

“Oh, cool!”

Annabeth sent you a firm look. “No, you idiot. This is it. This is how we’re getting to the Underworld.”

You raised your eyebrows, shaking your head a little. “Yeah. And we can shop on the way past.”

She shoved past you. “You’re unbelievable.”

Percy snorted, so you pushed him in first.

He stumbled through the doorway, the bells above the threshold jingling to signal your arrival. You would have kept your smile, but it slowly slid off your face.

Because where the hell were the records?

“Guys,” you said slowly, looking around without moving. “You see all the dead people, too, don’t you?”

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” Annabeth huffed.

Aside from the smell of must, the other distraction was the constant mumbling. These people, as young as newborns and as old as elderly in ancient clothing, muttered or sat crying or talked to themselves. Some just stared at the space in front of them, or at their feet. Behind a desk to the side of the extremely crowded room sat a tall man with bleached blond hair buzzed short, with chocolate-color skin. He was so buff you knew he meant business when he said it. He could break your arm with a twist of his hand.

If he looked at any of you when you walked in, you wouldn’t have known it, since a pair of very dark slim sunglasses covered his gaze. In a silk, well-tailored suit, he stacked up coins on his desk, where a bell sat at the end of it.

The strangest part of all, however, was definitely the people. Whom looked staticky and fuzzy if you looked at them for too long.

His desk was a raised podium, so none of you had a choice in having to look up to him.

A name badge caught your attention: Charon.

You whispered it, testing it on your tongue. Percy turned down the bold route.

“Your name is Chiron?”

Something shifted. Charon leaned across the podium, smiling sweetly, coldly. “What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent. British, perhaps. But also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

“N-no—” Percy said.

“Sir," he added smoothly.

“Sir," Percy ground out, jaw tight.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R- O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," Percy’s tone changed to one of a lot more anger.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

“We want to go to the underworld,” said Annabeth.

Charon’s mouth twitched. “Well, that’s refreshing.”

You pulled a face. “Is it?”

“Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No crying. No ‘there must be a mistake Mr Charon!’.” He sighed. “So, how did you die, then?”

It seemed this part caught your group off guard. Percy turned his head from the corner of your eye to look at you, and surprisingly, so did Annabeth on your other side.

“We drowned,” you said boldly. The first thing to come to mind. “School boating accident.”

“All four of you?”

You all nodded.

“Haven’t heard that one before.” He looked mildly impressed. “Don’t suppose you have have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children ... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy said confidently. You turned your head, a line coming between your brows. He dug in his pocket, and pulled out a handful of…drachmas? He set four of them out on the desk. Where the hell had he gotten them from?

"Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drach-mas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in ...". His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

Then Charon looked up, at you or Percy, you couldn’t tell for the glasses. That cold stare seemed to bore a hole through your body. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy stumbled. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

“We have to get to the Underworld,” Percy informed almost desperately.

“It seems such a fun place,” you added, as if buttering the guy up would help. “Who better to come first than you?”

“Cut the crap, you little mini demigod.” He hissed lowly. “I’m not buying it. Leave while you can. I’ll just take these and forget I ever saw you.”

Like his tone of voice changed the feeling in the room, a couple of souls stood, pacing as though they were agitated, lighting cigarettes or talking louder. One woman started sobbing, an awful, gut-wrenching cry that almost traumatised you by sound alone.

Percy reached up and snatched the coins.

“No service,” his voice shook. “No tip.”

Charon growled again-a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

“It’s a shame, as well,” he continued. “We had more to offer.”

More?!

Percy let coins rain on Charon’s desk. He watched them bounce and clink together like glass beads.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh...just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?”

“A lot. I’ll bet Hades doesn’t pay you what you’re owed working here.”

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

“You deserve better,” Percy swayed. “A little appreciation. Good pay. Respect.”

Buttering him up. Percy was buttering the guy up. And you hoped it worked.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

The boy stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off." He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

For a second, you almost couldn’t believe it. It had worked. Things were going your way.

You held back at the back of your little group. As you passed, following Charon’s lead, a tall woman in a long fur coat tried to grab at your hair; you leaned away, dodging her as what felt like water trickled down your neck at her touch. As you leaned one way, a boy younger than you tried to tug on your coat, and a little girl in bloody ribbons blinked wide-eyed as you passed.

Inside the elevator, crowded and stuffy, stood souls already in waiting, holding small green boarding passes. You shoved yourself in between two women, one older wearing a strange dress of what looked like netting and gloves of the same material, and a girl in bell bottom jeans and a bright green shirt.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," Charon announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend. "What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous." "Oh," she said. "That's...fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

His words sent ice down your spine. It was no lie that everybody at some point had to die. Death was unavoidable, something that happened to every living thing whether they liked it or not. That didn’t mean the inevitable didn’t terrify you, or scare you silly. Death was scary because it was so unknown. You hoped this trip to the land of the dead might make your final trip there some day less scary.

You weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around you started to change shape. Their versions of modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. You wished there was something to hold on to, but found you were too anxious to move. Nothing about this was comforting. To your left, Charon’s suit had changed as well, to a black hooded robe. His glasses were gone, replaced by empty sockets just as Ares’ had been. He turned his head slowly, and your organs dropped, the breath leaving your body.

“Well?”

You shook your head, trying to will oxygen back in to your lungs. “Nothing,” you whispered.

The longer you watched, the more transparent his face became, until you could see through to his skull. Your skin began to turn clammy. This was doing nothing to help your fear. If anything, it only enhanced it all.

And suddenly, you blinked. The elevator was no longer that, but a large, wide wooden barge. Charon stood at the front, pushing across what you thought at first was just water, with a large oar. The closer you looked, and the harder you stared, you found things floated in the ‘water’.

The oily liquid was filled with torn diplomas and floating wedding rings, stuffed toys and plastic baby dolls. Bones floated here and there. And you realised then, that these were people’s loved dreams. Their hopes in life. All dumped in one, unforgiving place. You couldn’t take things with you when you went.

The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across-hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above you all, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

In your chest, something spread like tar, sticking and forcing your organs to try harder to keep you going. Your heart beat wilder, your lungs sped up, and you felt a lonely sense of isolation and quietness. To your left, Annabeth and Percy were holding hands.

You faced the quiet alone.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as the eye could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones-the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of the boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted the golden coins into his pocket, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

The four of you followed the spirits up a well-worn path. Here, pressure filled your eyes and throat—the sense to cry was getting stronger. And you couldn’t for the life of you explain why. Maybe because somewhere in your mind, you knew this was the end for everyone. This was the final destination, the end of a ride. You just didn’t want to be here yet.

The entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with secu-rity cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy’s voice came, asking Annabeth.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," she said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

The four of you stood together, thinking. Here, Annabeth would be the expert.

“Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."

“Harsh.”

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

All your eyes turned forward.

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

"But if he's a preacher," said Percy, "and he believes in a different hell...."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—uh, persistent, that way."

The howling was so loud, now, that the ground was shaking under your feet. You looked around, beginning to grow agitated.

Then,a good few feet in front of you, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh holy—”

“He’s a Rottweiler?!” Percy exclaimed.

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

"I think..." Annabeth moistened her lips. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead." The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living.”

“But that’s okay, because we have a plan.”

You kept your mouth firmly shut. Even if you wanted to speak, nothing really would come out.

Closer you came to the lines and the dog, unable to meet its face.

"Can you understand it?"

"Oh yeah," Grover said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy dug around in his backpack and took out a big stick—a bedpost it looked like. He held it up, and tried to channel happy dog thoughts toward Cerberus-Alpo commercials, cute little puppies, fire hydrants. He tried to smile, like he wasn’t about to die. It was more of a sick grimace.

"Hey, Big Fella," He called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

GROWWWLLLL!

"Good boy," Percy said weakly.

He waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on you four, completely ignoring the spirits. Percy had Cerberus's undivided attention.

"Fetch!" He threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. You heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.

Cerberus glared at him, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.

“Well done,” you muttered shakily, frozen.

“Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that...well…he's hungry."

"Wait!" Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack.

"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"

Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before anyone could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!”

Cerberus looked stunned. All three heads tilted.

“Sit!” Annabeth called again.

“You’re gonna be dog food,” you muttered weakly.

But instead, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissi-pated, like the air let out of tires.

Annabeth said, "Good boy!" She threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snap-ping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it.'" Annabeth ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at her. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a piece of stuck apple. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the spit all over it. You gagged.

She turned around, ball in hand. Spit dribbled off of it and hissed when it hit the ground. “Go. Now. The EZ DEATH line is quicker.”

You observed in quietness. Percy rejected the idea, but was firmly told in the Annabeth way to get on with it.

The three of you inched forward. Cerberus growled and prepared to jump.

“Stay!” Annabeth demanded. “You want the ball? Stay!”

You walked between his legs to pass, and rushed to get out before he could sit.

You’d thought you were all safe. Until Grover and Percy pushed through the detectors of the line, and they started going crazy.

“Unauthorised possessions! Unauthorised possessions!”

“If they start talking,” you rambled, hands up as you ran with the others. “No hablo English!”

Imagine a field a million times bigger than a football field, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told you they were poplars-grew in clumps here and there. You felt maybe he was trying to distract you—you had been quiet after all—but nothing worked.

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, it wasn’t long before things began to go wrong.

Grover was dragged by his magic shoes—yes, dragged—by an invisible force straight across the gigantic field. No amount of pulling on his hands helped—because he just pulled you along too. Determined not to let Grover die here, you held on as Annabeth and Percy yelled and ran after you both.

“Untie the shoes!” Annabeth called.

It was easier said than done when Grover couldn’t even lift his legs.

You ripped between the legs of spirits who muttered angrily at you, the feeling of ice running across your body with every touch. You shivered, arms growing tired, and body beginning to hurt from being pulled across the uneven landscape.

“I can’t hold on!” You yelled. “Kick them off!”

But they were laced up. And you wanted to scream in anger at the whole situation.

Up ahead, the gates to Hades’ palace loomed and you thought perhaps you’d go through there.

But no. You veered very sharply right, and your body hit the gate. You yelled as your bones hit it hard.

“Get hold of something!” Percy screamed from way behind.

“Like what?!” You screamed back. All around you was gravel and dirt and darkness, and you selfishly thought of letting Grover go.

Through a tunnel you went, growing darker and darker and colder and colder, and your thoughts changed so abruptly you felt sick. Maggots on a dead body. Butterflies with clipped wings. Blood on stones.

The tunnel widened into a huge, huge cavern, with a gaping hole in the middle of it the size of Manhattan’s centre. You couldn’t help the scream of terror that ripped from your lungs.

“Guys!” Annabeth screamed. “Hold on to something! Anything!”

Your hands began to slip on Grover’s, both of you sweaty and tired. “Grover—”

“Don’t let me go!” He cried, looking at you. “I—”

All of a sudden, you jolted. You watched as Grover’s foot hit a giant rock, and one shoe came flying off. His fake foot went with it, leaving his hoof. The other shoe slowed down drastically and pulled you at a much slower rate.

As you passed the rock Grover hit, you let go of one of his hands, and looped your arm over it as best you could.

You both came to a stop.

Breathing hard, front aching and stinging, you both gasped for breath.

Grover’s legs dangled over the edge of the chasm.

Annabeth and Percy took you one each, Grover first. Once he was up and out of the way, Percy helped you to your lead-like legs with a hand under your arm and your own around his shoulders as you gasped for breath. Your jacket sleeves were ripped to shreds, and Percy helped you pull it off. Fabric stuck to your cut arms, bleeding and itchy and stuck with stones. Your cheeks stung too, no doubt cut from the stones. Your shirt was all ripped down the front, pants the same, and the only thing in somewhat of a decent condition was your backpack.

Grover’s hands bled too, and his eyes were in slits the way there were when he got scared.

“I didn’t know—I didn’t—”

“Who gave them to you?” You asked breathlessly. Grover opened his mouth.

“Wait!” Percy held up a hand. You all fell silent. “Listen.”

A faint whispering was filling the air, and you frowned, looking around.

“Percy, this place—” Annabeth tried.

“Shh,” he stood.

The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below. Coming from the pit.

Grover sat up. "Wh-what's that noise?"

Annabeth heard it too, now. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus."

Percy’s bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness in his hand, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.

It almost sounded ancient, all ancient words, older even than Greek. As if…

"Magic.”

"We have to get out of here," Annabeth said.

Together, you all stood. Percy dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. Your legs wouldn't move fast enough. he voice got louder and angrier behind you, and you were the first to break into a run.

And not a moment too soon.

A blast of freezing air hit you, and you briefly slowed. Terrifyingly, Percy slipped, and you bent down to grab at his arms, pulling him up. Grover and Annabeth called to you both from further up, still moving slowly, waiting for you without without.

Any closer to the edge and you’d have been pulled in.

“What was that?” Grover panted as you kept going. “One of Hades’ pets?”

You didn’t dare look up from the ground, still trying to find your breath.

“Let’s keep going,” Percy settled for. “Can you two walk okay?”

You nodded. You’d have to. There wasn’t a choice down here.

Above, Furies circled the parapets.

Up close, the engravings on the gates of the palace were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. A scene of a boy holding a girl across his knees, his face pressed into her hair. You wondered if they might have been prophecies that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, and piles of rubies as big as your hands, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues—petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark.

"The garden of Persephone," Annabeth said. "Keep walking."

The smell of the fruits was so appetising it sent you into a daze. You blinked at a glowing blue fruit hanging off a tree as you passed it, and reached your hand out.

A hard slap came down on your skin, and you gasped at Percy, gawping at him. He looked almost ashamed.

“Just…don’t touch anything. In case.”

In case you’re stuck down here, you understood.

The four of you walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered you, but their hollow eye sockets followed as you walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

In the quiet, your brief laughter was a shock to the air.

In front of the doors you all stood in a line. Percy raised his fist. “Well, I guess we should knock, right?”

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means entrez-vous," Annabeth said.

The room was fully black and dark and the air was almost suffocating. The ceiling was high and bright without lights. You looked down—under your feet the floor was shiny like marble.

And on the golden throne, sat a man whose powerful aura you felt all the way across the room.

He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and terrifyingly dangerous.

And he caught your eyes instantly. His face betrayed nothing.

And from the corner of your eye, a tiny tear slipped.

For no good reason. In here, in his presence for a few seconds, something just felt ominous and scary, and you had the suddenly inkling, the firm knowledge, that this would not be the last time you would be in Death’s presence.

For some reason, in here, the emotional atmosphere was strong. Impactful. Impressionable. It made you think of those who had gone before you. It made you wish for a kind death.

The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I'd seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma. In there, nestled somewhere, you could feel a soft sort of something, as if the Lord of the Dead was not all and completely terrible. You’d never voice that, though.

"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an confident, manly voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out.

“Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

“Lord Hades," Percy said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be…bad."

“Really bad," Grover added helpfully.

"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," he carried on. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?"

You were so, utterly confused.

“Um ... Uncle," I said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.

Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"

“You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy countered carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"

"A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?"

"Well..."

"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?" He demanded, growing louder.

"More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the pre-cious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"

"Charon wants a pay raise.”

“Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. For the first time since arriving, you found a grin tugging at your mouth at his words. “He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."

"But you took Zeus's master bolt."

"Lies!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."

"His plan?"

"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus, You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!"

“But…” Annabeth trailed. “Your Helm of Darkness is missing too?” She asked.

“Do not play innocent with me, girl. You, that one and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

“No!” Percy called. “Poseidon didn’t—I didn’t—”

“I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."

"You didn't try to stop us? But—”

"Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson—your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."

The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready.

“You're as bad as Zeus. You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?"

“Of course," Hades fumed.

"And the other monsters?"

Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you—I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"

"Easily?"

"Return my property!"

"But I don't have your helm. I came for the master bolt."

"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. His anger echoed. “You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could you threaten me!"

"But I didn't!"

"Open your pack, then."

You turned around, facing the others. “Percy, what is he talking about?” Your voice was quiet in the instant silence after Hades’s words.

He slung it off his shoulder and to his feet, then unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

"Percy," Annabeth said. "How-"

"I-I don't know. I don't understand."

“You heroes are always the same," Hades said. “Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now...my helm. Where is it?"

How could you defend Percy now?

“Lord Hades, wait," Percy asked.

"This is all a mistake." "A mistake?" Hades roared.

The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. The one with Mrs. Dodds's face grinned and flicked her whip.

“There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her.”

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of you, forcing you to take a step back, and there was Percy’s mom, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.

Percy stepped forward and reached out, but drew back his hand instantly.

“Yes,” Hades said with satisfaction. “I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

“Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and you stopped breathing. Yet another thing, you thought, Percy had not told you about. “Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson.”

You watched him dig in his pocket, before pulling out his fist and straightening his palm. Three pearls sat in the middle.

“Only four,” Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms.”

Percy’s eyes flitted from one of you to the other. You didn’t care what happened right now—more than anything, you were confused.

“We were tricked. Set up.”

“Yes, but why? And the voice in the pit—?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll ask.”

“When did this happen?” You interrupted. All three of them looked to you. You felt wildly out of place—disjointed. “The pearls and the voice and everything and the bolt. Why did nobody tell me?”

Most of all, you felt betrayed. If your friends hadn’t so much as told you the basics, what else were they keeping from you?

“DECIDE, BOY!”

“Percy, you can’t give him the bolt.”

Nobody answered you, and you felt even more humiliated.

“I know that—”

“Leave me here, first off. Use one for your mom.”

“No!"

"I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."

"No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."

"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind." "Think again, goat boy," Annabeth said.

“Stop it, both of you!” Percy cut in, eyes glassy. You opened your mouth. “Don’t you start!” He interrupted with a thick voice. “I know what to do.”

He handed you each a pearl. You accepted it numbly.

“But—Percy—”

He turned to face his mom. “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way. I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise."

"Do not defy me—”

"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not—"

He shouted, "Now, guys!"

You smashed the pearls at your feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened. And you almost cursed Percy Jackson.

Hades yelled, "Destroy them!"

The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame.

Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl fragments at my feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. You were encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as they floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and you knew it wasn’t going to be a peaceful night in L.A.

"Look up.' Grover yelled. "We're going to crash!"

"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted.

Sure enough, everyone raced right toward the stalactites, which you figured would pop your bubbles and skewer everyone.

"I don't think you do!" Percy shouted back.

We screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and…Darkness.

You were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls.

For a few moments, nobody could see anything outside the smooth walls of the sphere, then your pearl broke through on the ocean floor. The three other milky spheres, Percy, Annabeth and Grover, kept pace as you soared upward through the water. And—bam!

Your head broke the surface of a a wave, and you gasped as the cool water covered you. A guy surfing was knocked off his board, knocking into you and sending you under with him. You tumbled in the darkness, frantically kicking to the surface again. Percy reached over and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you over to the others. Alarm was raised on his face until he looked you over. A shark swam in circles around you all and you really thought this was the end of your journey.

“Beat it,” Percy tipped his head in the other direction, and the shark swam off.

The peach skies told you the date: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades's fault.

I snuck in some hints in this chapter for events that will occur later on in the other books. Those, added with some songs on the playlist, will tell you everything you need to know ;)

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @luckydragontriumph @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble @twsssmlmaa

#capsize #percy jackson #pjo #leo valdez #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #hoo #jason grace #nico di angelo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #Percy Jackson series #leo valdez x reader #Frank zhang #jason grace x reader

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heroes-of-olympus-next-gen · 2 years

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Mum, we’re having a baby

Percabeth telling Sally that Annabeth is pregnant.

Annabeth sighed as she put on her coat and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She was getting nervous about how her parents-in-law were going to take their news. “It’s going to be fine, right?” she asked her husband.

“Of course. It’s my mum, Paul and Estelle. They’ll be happy for us. And we’ll have a full-time babysitter.” Percy replied.

“I’m serious,” Annabeth said trying to hide her smile.

Deep down, she knew that Sally would be very happy, but she was preparing herself in case that wouldn’t happen. But she would never be ready to disappoint Sally. The closest motherly figure she had in her life.

“So am I.” Percy got closer and kissed her.

Annabeth crossed her arms and arched her eyebrow. “I’m a hormonal mess and you’re making jokes. I’ll tell your mom on you.” She complained. In the past few weeks, she started noticing her body changing, which wasn’t something she was a big fan of.

Percy gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me.” Annabeth threatened with a big smile on her face.

He guided her to their couch and sat across from her. “Okay. Here’s how it’s going to go. We’re going to tell them that we’re having twins, we’ll cry and reminisce about the old times when we were just eleven and then we’ll eat dessert. Simple. And we’re doing this together. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Alright. But I’m still nervous.”

“Everything is going to be fine.”

The family lunch went like every other Sunday lunch. They talked and laughed and ate a delicious meal. After they finished eating, Annabeth was ready to share their news. “We have something important to tell you,” Percy said and looked at her.

“I’m pregnant,” Annabeth announced smiling.

Sally took a moment to soak in the news. She started smiling. “Really?”

“Yes.” Percy couldn’t take his eyes off Annabeth.

She got up and hugged them both. “I’m so proud of you. You both deserve this.” She said. Annabeth knew that she really meant it.

Paul was also smiling from his seat looking happy about the new family member. He gave both of them a warm look that elevated all of Annabeth’s stress.

“What do you think ‘Stelle?” Percy asked his little sister.

“Can I name it?” Estelle grinned.

“About that.” Percy sat straighter and took a deep breath. “We’re having twins.” He added. “Mum, are you crying?”

“No, it’s just allergies.” Sally sniffed and looked at them adoringly.

“Mum!” Estelle sighed as she couldn’t understand why her mum was so sentimental.

“I’m just really happy.” She exclaimed. “I remember you,” she motioned at Percy, “coming home from Camp and not being able to stop talking about Annabeth. And now you’re married and about to have twin babies. I never thought I’d make it this far.” Percy hugged his mum.

Annabeth knew that Sally’s life wasn’t any easier than theirs. She admired her mother-in-law greatly because of that. She had to witness her parents and uncle dying, her college aspirations leaving her in the first eighteen years of her life. Then she was a single mother in her 20s and stayed in an abusive relationship for over a decade. But despite everything she managed to raise Percy without anyone’s help and achieve her dream of becoming a writer.

Sally put her hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. “You’re going to be great parents. The greatest. Your children will be lucky to have you.”

“Can I still name them?” Estelle asked again.

“Tell us your suggestions and we’ll think about it,” Percy told her.

“I can work with that.” She smiled.

Sally pressed her hands together. “Now it’s time for dessert.”

#percy and annabeth #annabeth chase #annabeth #annabeth chase fanfic #annabeth pjo #percabeth fanfic #percy jackson fic #percabeth #percy jackson #percy jackson headcannons #percababies #percabeth family #percabeth babies

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ravendruid · 11 months

Text

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 16

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3.

When Vax’ildan woke up, the sun was already setting in the sky. It had taken him a long time to fall asleep the previous night. He tossed and turned in bed for hours after Percy returned from the bar, and the first rays of sunlight peeked through the tiniest gap in the curtains. The fact that he had willingly been cold to Keyleth the previous night had already been enough to plant the seed of guilt inside him, but hearing her crying in her room made him feel more guilty than he had ever felt. Vax ran the events of last night in his mind as he lay awake in bed, wondering what was the best course of action. On the one hand, he wanted to give Keyleth room for her to gather her thoughts, and he knew how important the midterms were to her, so he also didn’t want to distract her any further. However, on the other hand, isolating himself from her would probably hurt her – and him – even more. Vax was at an impasse. He figured there was nothing he could do that day since most of it was already over, so he stayed in his bedroom for the rest of the evening and night, only coming out to use the bathroom and eat.

Vax was surprised when he woke up to no new notifications on his phone the following morning. He assumed that his sister would have been at least slightly concerned and texted him, but there were no new messages. Not even from Keyleth, which he already expected, but still hurt. The apartment was unusually quiet, which could be due to him having woken up late in the morning when everyone was already out and about, so Vax took some time to slowly shower and eat breakfast before he returned to his room with a groan from the prospect of having to study. It wasn’t until later in the afternoon, when Vex’ahlia let herself in his room without knocking, that Vax finally took a break.

“You’re alive, brother,” She said casually, slumping onto Vax’s bed.

Vax turned his chair to look at her, pointing at the books opened on his desk, and he said, “Alive is relative when midterms start tomorrow.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing?” Vex crossed her legs and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Studying? Yes. Have you?”

“So you haven’t been avoiding a certain redhead?”

“What do you want, Vex’ahlia?”

“I’m just checking on you, brother,” She shrugged. Vax didn’t believe her. His sister had questions he didn’t have the answers for, and he knew she wouldn’t go away until she was satisfied.

“I’m alright. I’ve been eating and resting. And focusing on studying whenever I’m awake. We have a lot at risk, and I will not jeopardize our safety.”

“And Keyleth? She was studying at the library by herself today.”

“We cannot afford distractions right now, sister.” He cocked an eyebrow at her in return. He knew she had been studying with Percy lately. “I must ask you to please let me study now.”

Vex nodded, but something in her demeanor changed, making Vax’s stomach feel like it was tied to a rock and sinking into the ocean. Vex’ahlia had something heavy in her mind, something she wanted to say or perhaps ask. He couldn’t tell if it was related to Keyleth or the school. He knew he should just ask her, but, at the same time, Vax was afraid of what she would say, so he paid close attention to his sister, and that’s when he saw the signs of a nervous tick she hadn’t displayed in a while. Vax knew immediately what she was thinking and how much the subject affected her, so he braced himself before speaking.

“What’s on your mind, Vex’ahlia?”

Vex looked up at her brother, nervously biting her lip and fumbling with the hem of her shirt. She looked just as tired as he did.

“I’ve been thinking about–” She paused and looked down at her hands. “Velora,” she whispered. Vax’s heart raced in his chest as the image of the small girl came to his mind. “I’ve been wondering if she’s okay. If she’s safe.”

“I’m sure she is,” Vax ignored the knot forming in his throat. He hated hurting his sister, and more than that, he hated reminding her – both of them – how unwanted and hated they were by his father, but sometimes he had to do it, and this was one of those times. “Don’t forget she was wanted, unlike us. Syldor treats her differently. You know he provides for her.”

“I know,” Vex’s voice trembled as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. “I just–I wished we could talk to her, tell her we haven’t forgotten about her. Tell her–” Vex wiped a tear with the sleeve of her shirt just as Vax joined her on the bed. “Tell her we love her very much, that she’s our sister, no matter what.”

Vax hugged his twin tightly, willing himself to be tough. He could tell Vex that Velora knew how much they loved her, that she knew they hadn’t forgotten her, but he would never lie to his sister like that. Velora was only a year old when they left Syngorn. The chances of her having any memories of the twins were probably now sullied by their father’s words, who, undoubtedly, had spewed many lies about their departure.

“I’m sorry,” Vax whispered, rubbing the back of Vex’s head. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything to ease your pain.”

“Vax, no.” Vex’ahlia grabbed her brother’s face with both hands and looked at him with her eyes shining with tears. “None of this is your fault, brother. It’s Syldor’s.”

“I just… I don’t want to fail her too.”

“You haven’t failed me, nor her. Vax, none of what happened is your fault. And don’t look at me like that,” Vex admonished him. “Sooner or later, something would have happened. I’m just glad we made it out alive,” she lowered her voice.

Vax nodded in agreement, wiping his tears with his sleeve, “Yeah. Me too.”

“You’re right. I’m sure Velora is fine. We need to look out for ourselves. So I’m going to let you go back to your books, and I’ll go back to mine,” Vex got up from his brother’s hold and walked to the door, pausing and turning before opening it. “Make sure you talk to Keyleth, will you? She looked miserable this morning.” And with that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Vax’s stomach twisted, making him feel like he was about to throw up. Keyleth was hurting because of him. Vex was hurting because of him. Velora could be hurting, too, because he wasn’t there to protect her like he protected Vex. A crushing weight settled on Vax’s shoulders as he laid down and rolled himself into a ball on his bed. He knew his priority should be passing the exams, but his heavy guilt overwhelmed him so much he couldn’t move. His body started tensing as his muscles locked, and his mind became a messy blur of thoughts. He knew he would regret it later, but at the moment, there was nothing else he could do but lie down and let the feeling pass.

—

Keyleth hadn’t seen Vax’ildan all weekend, so on Miresen morning, when the apartment door opened to reveal a sweaty and disheveled Vax as Keyleth waited for the coffee to brew in the kitchen, her heart almost leaped out of her chest. He was wearing a black t-shirt and shorts, and his hair was a mess in a ponytail, and Keyleth couldn’t help but blush at the sight of him. Vax hadn’t noticed her as his gaze was captivated by his phone, so he almost stumbled onto her. Keyleth willed herself to move out of his way, but it seemed like the message sent by her brain to her legs got lost somewhere between the stray beads of sweat traveling down the shapes of Vax’s arms and the lack of oxygen in her brain as Keyleth started to breathe faster. But fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on the perspective – Vax saw Keyleth just in time.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t see you there,” He said, stopping right in front of her.

Keyleth’s blood pumped so loudly in her ears that she almost didn’t hear what Vax said. It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her, but finally, her body responded to her commands – now you get the message? – Her legs stopped shaking underneath her torso, allowing her to step back as she apologized to Vax, “No, I’m sorry. I was in the way.”

Vax gave her a short smile and moved to walk past her, but Keyleth, whose brain was still short-circuiting, blocked him instead of letting him through. They danced for a few seconds, Keyleth accidentally blocking Vax instead of letting him through until he finally grabbed her shoulders and stopped her, staring deep into her eyes. For a moment, Keyleth forgot about that night after the bar. She had his gaze again, and she allowed herself to hope. She took a cautious step closer to him and slowly raised her arms as her brain filled with the memories of the dozens of hugs they had shared before and how much she missed them. But then Vax pushed her gently aside and walked past her to grab a cup from the cabinet.

Keyleth’s heart stopped, and her eyes burned. She felt like a thousand tiny shards of glass were piercing her. It had been a long time since she felt like she needed to scream in agony, but she had to hold on as Vax filled a glass with water from the fridge. Vax’s back faced her in a way that symbolized much more than what it meant. All Keyleth could do to hold herself aloft at that moment was to place a hand on the island counter next to her and hope he would leave soon.

“Are you okay?” Keyleth almost believed the fake concern in Vax’s voice. She nodded in response, avoiding eye contact. Keyleth was scared she would start screaming if she spoke, so she didn’t open her mouth. “I need to get into the shower before Grog takes over the bathroom and uses all the hot water.”

Keyleth didn’t know whether it was true or an excuse to leave her alone – again – but she nodded nonetheless because what else could she do? Fall to her knees and cry? Beg him to stay when he clearly showed her he didn’t care about her anymore? Had he ever cared? All those weeks they spent together, all the talks and hugs. The soft touches and the meals they cooked. Did they mean anything to him at all? And Percy was so sure. Oh, how Keyleth wanted to scream at him – one of her best friends – for lighting the flame of hope inside her. She wanted to tell him how wrong he was and how much Vax had hurt her in ways she had never been hurt before.

She had been used before by people who had gotten close to her with second intentions in mind. People who wanted to use her to climb their way to a better goal, a better life. But this was different. Her friendship with Vax had felt real. She had felt safe with him. She had been herself. Was that the problem? Maybe Vax got tired of her and her issues. She couldn’t blame him. How many times had he found her crying on the floor? How many times had he gone out of his way to comfort her? And for what? She didn’t really do anything for him, did she?

Keyleth’s mother’s death had left a gaping hole in her, one she knew she would never fill. And yet, all these years later, after getting so used to the feeling of emptiness, she was not ready for this. Keyleth felt like her life force had been stolen from her. She felt like an empty shell of a human being, devoid of all emotion. Her thoughts were loud – screaming words she hadn’t heard in so long – about being unlovable and unworthy of happiness.

It wasn’t until Keyleth heard the faint signs of movement about the apartment and her roommates’ alarm clocks ringing to signal the first day of midterm exams that she realized she couldn’t allow herself to fall deeper into the hole. Keyleth had come to Emon to study, and she needed to focus on that. She had lived eighteen years without friends. Surely she could do another four until she got what she needed and returned home.

Except that Pike and Vex were good to her – although sometimes Vex gave her looks that made Keyleth feel like she was being evaluated for something she didn’t know about – and Percy was incredibly friendly and listened to her. Even Grog and Scanlan were nice once in a while. It was Vax who was hurting her, no one else. She didn’t have to stop being friends with everyone because Vax had broken her heart, did she? Even that sentence made her uncomfortable. How could Vax – her best friend – break her heart like this? Because that was all they were: friends. Nothing else, nothing more, and that was the only reason why it hurt so much. Because they had become close friends, they had trusted and comforted each other – or at least Keyleth had – in ways they had never trusted anyone before, and it wouldn’t hurt this much unless Keyleth really liked Vax as a friend, right?

#critical role #cr fic #vox machina #vaxleth #modern au #college au #vox machina au #vaxleth au #critical role au #be in my eyes #If I had a dollar for every time Keyleth is in denial about her feelings for Vax...#Also hi if you're reading this: I love you. Thank you so much for reading my fic. It means the world to me <3

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ask-pwp-prequel-au · 8 months

Text

Nick: *As he said yesterday, shows up to Pal’s warehouse the next day, knocking on the door. He sat outside, waiting for a response, Pal’s bike was there, no way he couldn’t be home.*

Pal: *Upon hearing the knock, immediately starts to panic, trying to control the tears. He really didn’t want to see Nick. He was scared of possibly going nuts a second time.* “Gah- erm- shit- uhh..” *Pal stared at the door, wishing that Nick would leave but he seemed pretty set on talking to Pal.* “S-Sorry! Pal isn’t home! I-I’m Tama…Tama..” *Pal looked over at the sleeping Tamas.* “TamaTalkie! The only Tama that can talk!” *Pal shouts, putting on a low voice.*

Nick: “Sure you are, Pal. Come on, it’s been years, I’m sure you’re much better now. You don’t need to be scared to see me again.”

Pal: “Th-The tears will beg to differ…” *Pal stared at the ground, watching the tears hit the ground.*

Nick: “Tears?” *Nick tilted his head.*

Pal: “Y-Yeah..tears.” *Pal stared at his hands before wiping the tears away with a stained green cloth.* “O-Oh whatever. I-I’m mature. I can talk to an old friend—even though I tried to kill them—.” Pal murmured before finally answering the door and letting Nick in.* “We make this quick, got it?”

Nick: *Nick sighed, staring down at Pal.* “Okay. I’ll try to..” *Nick murmured, taking a breath.* “It still smells like gasoline in here. Just like it always has.”

Pal: *He brushed himself off, closing the door.* “I certainly hope you don’t mind. I have no idea how to fix it.” *Pal murmured, following Nick.*

Nick: “Genuinely shocked. We’ve found the one thing you can’t fix.”

Pal: “Hush….erm- please.” *Pal gently said before walking away to find chairs.* “Anyways. Could you tell me more about this encounter- erm, whatever you left out?”

Nick: “Certainly, I don’t think I’ll be forgetting it any time soon. Especially since you seem to be the only person I’ve told that believes me.” *Nick looked a little annoyed at the thought of what his old boss said.*

Pal: “I mean- of course. One, it’s a Pal Percy. Two, I specialize in creating living tamagotchi like toys. The Tamas are right there,” *Pal pointed at the sleeping Tamas.* “Besides! Everyone in this town is a little crazy. Every. Single. One.”

Nick: “Trust me. I know,” *Nick chuckled.* “We did both grow up here- anyways. This fight…” *Nick began to explain everything along with every close encounter that he barely managed to wiggle out of. He also mentions the events before the fight, talking about how, on the 3rd day, the Pal Percy began to act..off.*

Pal: “So the damn thing pulled a Lanki and pretended to be a normal toy. How lovely..”

Nick: “I don’t think it was pretending though. I think it hadn’t been interacted with for so long that the thing ended up reseting before quickly realizing it was being interacted with and quickly going crazy.” *Nick explained.*

Pal: “Nick. It had my personality before I went to therapy. It was definitely a trick. When I was stressed and ended up dripping tears all over it’s motherboard. It most likely learned from me, maybe got some of my memories—hence why when it fought you, it mimicked our fight—it probably saw you as well- a best friend who hadn’t realized what they were- or some like that.” *Pal murmured, kicking his feet a little.*

Nick: “..Probably. Makes a little more sense than my explan- wait, what do you mean by ‘dripping tears all over it’?”

Pal: “Oh..heh..right, I haven’t even told you one of the wonderful things that happened after Percy exploded. Notice how the floor is stained in some areas as well as my cheeks?” *Pal pointed to his eyes.*

Nick: “It’s impossible not to notice so, yeah, I noticed.”

Pal: “After the explosion, I started crying green, heavily staining tears. I can apply ANY cleaning chemical, even the strongest stuff ever and it STILL be there! I can’t get it off so, I learned to live with it. I noticed that it normally only happens during moments of stress, sadness or extreme- just-! Extreme ANYTHING!” *Just as Pal mentioned this, glowing green tears began to drip from his eyes. Pal watched the tears hit and splash on the ground.* “L-Like right now..it’s wonderful isn’t it?” *His voice melted with sarcasm.*

Nick: “…” *Nick looked a little disturbed by the tears.* “…What even is that stuff..? Permanent marker?”

Pal: “Ha…I have no idea. It’s not radiation that’s for one…” *Pal curled up before quickly returning to the conversation at hand.* “S-Sorry. Sorry. Could you please tell me more? I-If anything else is missing?”

Nick: “No. That’s basically it..I’m scared that someone will find the toy and have to suffer with the thing’s unsatisfiable neediness.” *Nick glanced off to the side.* “God- I sound like you.”

Pal: *Pal gained a small smile.* “Official proof of our frien- no. No, I remember. “Don’t take this as a chance to be my ‘pal’ again..”” *Pal murmured, directly quoting Nick from his letter.*

Nick: “Shocked you remember…but thank you.”

Pal: “No problem. Now, I didn’t live far from the Playhouse. Maybe we can go search the rubble. Find the toy before anyone else does.”

Nick: “…Sounds good. Let’s go do that…” *Nick got up and almost ruffled Pal’s hair before he paused, noticing that Pal’s headband was melted.* “Erm..”

Pal: “Don’t mention the headband..I know it’s melted to my head.”

#playtime with percy au

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simauita · 11 months

Text

15 Questions, 5 Mutuals

Tagged by @wikiblair. I have not played any tumblr ask game in a while, thanks!

Are you named after anyone? Not really. Someone in my family has said that if I had been a boy, they would have named me after my dad’s friend and that the name I have as a girl is a shortened version of that friend’s name. But it does not really make sense because the names are not related and not even that similar so I chose not to believe it.

When was the last time I cried? Not sure, probably yesterday or two days ago over some Instagram video. I am a bit of a cry-baby.

Do you have kids? No, I’m way too young. I definitely want a kid one day though. Probably two of them.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I used to when I was in my teens but not as much anymore. A healthy amount, I’d say.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? It varies depending on what is most noticeable about them, sometimes it’s an outfit, a haircut, their make-up or even eye color... But usually probably their general appearance/looks/body-shape and then face.

What’s your eye color? Something between green and hazel. Closer to green but it’s not a very striking color, more like yellowish, brownish olive green.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, I love happy endings! I’m especially a fan of romantic comedies (emphasis on the comedy aspect) so happy endings are my thing.

Any special interests? Not really, I am very boring. Sometimes I do pick up something interesting but it rarely lasts. Used to be obssesed with Greek mythology as a kid (unrelated to Percy Jackson, which I discovered much later).

Where were you born? The Czech Republic. A hospital in my city. Not sure what type of answer I am supposed to give here :D

What are your hobbies? Reading books (mostly fantasy) and fanfiction (almost exclusively supercorp). Learning languages. Creating all sorts of art and DIY projects but I rarely have time. Watching shows and movies. Bullet journaling. Travelling.

Have any pets? Yes, two cats! They are family cats but my mum and I are the primary caretakers. My dad also has a dog that the rest of the family has to walk and feed although we never ever wanted a dog.

What sports do you play/have you played? I used to be a competitive swimmer and now I often tell myself I could go for a swim every now and then but I never do. But I used to be pretty good in all sorts of sports, especially running and ball games. I also did archery for a short time but never attended any competitions or anything even though I was pretty accurate when I still practiced. Finally, in my country you attend more-or-less compulsory dance lessons where they teach you basics of classical dances when you’re 16–17. I really enjoyed those so I continued dancing for some time after that too.

How tall are you? Taller than most girls but not enough to stand out. About 173 cm (5 f 8 inch). I used to wish to be smaller but now I am okay with my height I think.

Favorite subject in school? Czech.

Dream job? I don’t know. When I was a kid I wanted to be an artist, then a teacher. Later discovered passion for languages and wanted to be a linguist or a translator or an editor. Those jobs do not pay much though, so I don’t know. If I could choose anything regardless of pay, then definitely an artist.

Tagging: @ostropest @constant-sapphic-breakdown @mycatismyeditor @softinkhaven @luthordamnvers Sorry if someone did not want to be tagged, let me know and I’ll remove the tag!

#ask game #asks #ask #about me

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radioofdoom · 2 years

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Hey maria! Ohh some headcanons for Luke x daughter of Hecate?

(also do you take requests for gods as well? Not me having crush on Deimos lmao)

You asked for luke hc’s and I got ya jsdhsjs. Also idk about Gods because I’m pagan and I worship the Greek Pantheon (Apollo specifically.) If you mean pjo!Gods, maybe I’ll be able to write for them? But if you mean the actual Greek Gods from mythology I can’t TvT sorry.

PS. THIS TURNED OUT TO BE SO LONG OMG 😭 warning for angst at the end

Luke Castellan x Daughter of Hecate!Reader

Meeting Stage:

You first met Luke when he was 14, still new at the camp and consoling a crying Annabeth after Thalia got turned into a Pine Tree.

You helped Luke and Annabeth adjust to life at camp half-blood, even though you can see Luke feels bitter about the gods.

Slowly but surely the two of you were getting close, you stayed at the same cabin as he due to being unclaimed as Hecate never had a cabin in Camp Half-Blood

Friends/Crushing Stage:

Being close to Luke equals being close to Annabeth, and Luke sometimes uses Annabeth as an excuse to see you or spend time with you

“Annabeth wants us to check her sketches out”, “Annabeth said we should go with her to see something at the Big House ”

Needless to say, you fall for this trap plenty of times, not that you minded. Being with Luke made you happier

Does he steal you some stuff from the camp store just because you mentioned wanting one? Yes, yes he does

Asking You Out:

Is he nervous? No, he’s not nervous, like seriously, no he isn’t.

Okay maybe just a little, but it doesn’t stop him from just asking you if you wanted to hang out with just the two of you

In the middle of having a pleasant conversation with him, he just suddenly drops the question

“Hey, so you know I like you right? Yeah well, do you mind if I become your boyfriend?”

He just says it, straight up. No preparation, no nothing. He just drops the question and expects you to answer. Will he be severely crushed if you said no? Yes, he will be, but he didn’t think of that

Will respect your decision if you said no, though I will warn you. You’re most likely going to be one of the reasons why he joined Kronos’ forces

Relationship Stage:

So you said yes? Great! He honestly never think it would get this far, but he just said things on impulse so you’re stuck with him now.

Late-night talks at his cabin became frequent ever since you started dating, sometimes if no one in that cramped cabin is watching, he’d sneak into your bunk or sleeping bag and cuddle with you

Annabeth being sad for a week straight because her “hero” is dating someone. Though she forgave you immediately because it was just a childish crush

Soon you and Luke became the camp’s OTP ship

He’d kiss your face all over quickly while cupping your cheeks a lot, mainly because that makes you laugh and he just loves seeing you laugh and smile

PDA? Sure but he wouldn’t be too much, but just enough that you would feel how much he cares and loves you as his girlfriend

Dates with him would also be common, though most of them are simple dates like a picnic near the hills of camp half-blood, a movie date, etc.

That all changed when Percy Jackson came around

You were Luke’s everything even after he betrayed camp half-blood, he tried multiple ways to get you out of danger even when he allied with Kronos, he would try and explain to you why it was better to ally with Kronos and that he could help you understand your powers, leading you to find out you were a daughter of Hecate.

Even if your mother allied with Kronos, you knew it was wrong, but you loved Luke, and you were willing to betray Camp Half-blood for him, which lead you to become the spy for Kronos

During the entire time Luke was leading Kronos’ Forces and you following, you knew deep down this was wrong, but you couldn’t help it. You loved him

You only faced the truth of the situation when Luke became possessed by Kronos.

You were horrified at what had happened to the person you loved “Luke is gone, Kronos replaced him” was what all your mind could say and the followers of Kronos would say, you wanted this to stop, to help him so you bit down your shame asked camp half-blood for help

Death:

During The Last Olympian, you couldn’t help but lose hope, even if Annabeth had said Kronos isn’t settled into Luke’s body yet. It just feels hopeless, but you still had a tiny, tiny bit of hope.

So during that final stand-off, you were there. Yelling at Luke to come back, to come to his senses and stop Kronos from overtaking his body because you knew he was still there. Buried deep within

And when he finally did come back to his senses, you sobbed, he was back, the Luke you loved was back, but that happiness was short-lived

You tried to find ways to get rid of Kronos on the spot without having to go with Luke dying,

But he had to die, he crawled up near you, beaten and bloody from the fighting to give you one last kiss. A goodbye kiss

He said, when he goes to the process of rebirth, he wished he’d see you once again and have more time. As that was his only regret, that you two didn’t have enough time.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #hoo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #riordanverse #romantic

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elysiashelby · 2 years

Text

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 31

Paring: Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 21,521

WARNINGS: Cursing, Fluff, POV! Shifts, TIME SKIPS!!, SMUT! (NSFW): oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, A LOT of hinted at sex

Summary: Aliena and Tommy have fallen into domestic bliss. Experience that with them and all it’s challenges.

MASTERLIST CHAPTER 30 CHAPTER 32

A/N: This chapter also took a lot longer than I thought it was going to take. Sorry about that. Anyhow, I just kept falling in and out of love with Tommy and made it harder to write. Plus, life. But I’ll try to be more consistent in the future.... Sadly, I won’t make any promises.

This chapter is another filler, ig? Season two won’t appear till about chapter 34... HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

A LOT OF POV! CHANGES SO PLEASE REFER TO THE LINE BREAK GUIDELINE IN THE MASTER IF CONFUSED!!

It’s been three months since Percy’s birth, and the majority of it has been great. You know, your child lucks out when they get two insomniacs as parents. So, the lack of sleep was bearable, but it was the crying that got to me. Tom was always a pillar of strength, but I had to learn not to cry when Percy was crying. It was somewhat embarrassing, but I was aware of the possibility.

There was a short time when he was two months old that I thought he had colic, but I think he was just feeling my stress. I have no clue! We asked the doctor, and he said it could be several things, but that Percy was healthy and did not have an illness. I’m guessing that colic was discovered in a different decade ‘cause he had no idea what I was talking about when I brought it up. It was frustrating. Plus, I had only heard of the “illness” and knew nothing other than it made babies cry uncontrollably.

Ah! I used all the tips I learned from the internet. I wrapped him in a towel and gave him a water bath. I held him in certain positions that mimicked him still being in the womb. I focused on meditating as much as possible, even though I despise the practice. After two weeks, Percy calmed down, and it was smooth sailing after that.

It was like all that crying regulated his little body or something ‘cause he’s been sleeping through the night since those past two weeks! Another thing is that despite us having a nursery, we hardly use it. Percy only sleeps in his crib for his naps; otherwise, he sleeps with Tommy and me. If I have to step out of the room, there’s usually a maid nearby to help me look after him. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had to leave Percy in his crib while I had to do something while he was awake.

Sleeping through the night was a significant milestone for Tommy and me seeing as we’ve yet to have sex since five months ago. It was around the time the doctor put me on complete bed rest, and even though we were given the okay to have sex again— we just haven’t. So many things got in the way, sadly, including our child. Not that we were celibate either. A lot of oral sex. It was nice, and I never thought that there’d be a day where I’d rather be fucked, but here we are! I guess I just miss it, if I’m honest.

But then there was the fact that I haven’t been feeling great about my body since Percy’s birth. It was challenging juggling exercise and taking care of a baby, and I was managing, but not as well as I’d like. It’s easier to put off exercising to spend more time with my baby, and it’s obvious that I’d rather drop some freaking push-ups for an hour over staring at my son as he sleeps. I know that my body just needs time, but I wanted the time to be now. Not even for Tommy, but myself. It took so much hard work to achieve my ideal body, and I just really want it back.

My sex drive disappeared after Percy was born, and during the weeks, I was healing, but since then, it’s returned two-fold. Worth noting that Tom couldn’t keep his hands to himself during that time. Not even in a sexual way either, it was there— of course, but there were usually softer touches. I smacked his hands away from my breasts and hips more times than I cared to admit. I never thought that would be a problem either.

Tommy hasn’t helped my increased urges in the slightest. I don’t know if he realized it or not, but he hasn’t had a haircut in a while, and I swear I’m in heaven. Not that I hate his usual style, but there was something about the way he looks with his sides grown out a bit and the top being floppy! If I had to pick an era, Tommy looks like the Shivering Soldier from Dunkirk or William Killick from The Edge of Love. Sometimes I wonder if he feels my staring— if he’s seen the moments where I clench my thighs together or bite my bottom lip.

If you’ve ever seen Thomas Shelby playing with a baby, you too may just develop a breeding kink. You’ll be entitled to financial compensation for any emotional distress.

Hell, Percy doesn’t have a lick of me in ‘em. He’s all his father! Spittin’ image he is. Tommy loves to beg to differ, but the man is blind, so I don’t take his words to heart. I know when a child looks more like the father than the mother! I thought that perhaps Percy had gotten his hair from me, but now with Tom’s hair growing out— I figure I might not even have that.

I swear if this kid gets his attitude from me, then God help us!

I was sitting down on the sofa, staring down at those precious blue eyes of my Percy’s. He was having his dinner: milk. With a single finger, I began stroking the side of his face. Percy’s eyes found mine, and he smiled, then giggled.

“Are you happy? Huh?” I asked softly. “Filling your tummy up.”

Percy gave me another smile, cooed a little, and then began sucking again.

“Daddy is coming home soon, and then you’ll be stolen from me. But that’s alright, innit, ‘cause we’ll get to see that smile of his. No matter how big or small.”

Percy smiled at me again before he moved his face away from my breast, began moving around in my arms, and reaching from me while babbling away.

“What?” I asked excitedly while holding his tiny hand in mine. “What is it, Percy? Do you want to touch Mama’s face?” I giggled, which he mimicked. I leaned down ‘n began placing a bunch of kisses upon his closed fist. His giggles grew louder. As much as this was great fun, I knew he had to be burped sooner rather than later. “Okay, love. Up we get!” I rearranged Percy to face my shoulder where the towel I had there lay. Just in case Percy threw up.

I expected my son to claim his first victim among the Shelby clan, but they were all experienced with babies. All except Michael. John deliberately set up the poor lad; gave ‘em Percy after the bastard spent his time throwing him up in the air. Quite the sight.

I patted his back till I heard that belch. Stank like hell but always put a smile on my face. When Percy was done, he immediately tried getting away from me— throwing himself back while trying to push me away. He’d just started picking things up, getting a hold of things with an iron grip, building up the strength in his arms.

I chuckled as I held him in my arms. The little tyke was still throwing his weight back. “Alright, alright! Hold on a sec’!” I rose to my feet, hauling him up in my arms as I walked over to the blanket I had laid out from him to roam about in. I set him down gently, threw the towel on the table, covered my breast, and then gave him my full attention.

Percy started showing signs of learning how to roll from his back to his belly, but I don’t think that was his goal right now. His arms were flailing about, as were his legs, but he wasn’t fussing. He was just babbling. I leaned over, grabbed hold of a rattle, and then shook it near him.

“How about this, honey? Do you wanna play with the rattle?” I asked as I continued to shake it near him. Percy tore it from my hand and began shaking it like crazy. I chuckled at the sight. “Hmm, someone is trying to stay up for daddy. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, young man!”

The rattle went in his mouth for a second, then out, and then back in. This went on for quite some time before Anne entered the room.

“Ma’am, dinner is ready. Shall I leave it here, or are you eating in the dining room?” She asked as her eyes kept fluttering from me to Percy with a smile on her face.

“Uh, we’ll—!”

“--Aliena! I’m home, love. Where are you?” It was Tommy.

I gasped, crawled closer to Percy, and whispered. “Daddy’s home!” I turned my face away, taking Percy into my arms as I shouted. “In here, love!” I quickly rose to my feet and didn’t have to wait long as Tom’s head peeked ‘round the corner.

He smiled, holding out his arms. “There’s my little bugger!” Percy was calmly chewing on his rattle, but the excitement in Tom’s voice made him squeal.

“Oi, what about me?” I jokingly asked.

Tommy took his son from my arms ‘n replied. “Oh, hi, love.”

I tsked and smacked the side of his arm. He ignored me and gave his full attention to our baby.

“How were you, eh? Did you have a bunch of fun with Mummy?” Tommy bounced Percy in his arms before walking over to the sofa and sitting down. Percy released his rattle to take his father’s face in his hands as he spoke unintelligible words. “Yeah! Really? My goodness, it sounds like you had a busy day. Not as busy as Papa’s, though.”

Anne cleared her throat, saying, “Shall I prepare a plate for you as well, Mr. Shelby?”

Tom told her yes while he extended his arms, holding Percy in the air without looking back. Percy squealed happily with his little fist in his mouth.

I glanced at Anne and said. “We’ll be eating in the dining room, Anne. Thank you.” She nodded then left the room. “He already ate,” I said. “Just a little while ago, so be careful with him. So, how was your day?”

Tom was so wrapped up in playing with Percy that he almost ignored me. He thrust him up into the air then swooped him down for kisses. Tom only stopped to answer me. “It was good. As good as it could be.”

“Nothing else happened? Like I don’t know, um, I don’t know. Maybe someone fucked up the books again?”

Tommy shook his head. “Nah. It was just paperwork and deadlines.”

I hummed. “Well, come on then. We need to eat.” I waited as Tommy rose to his feet with our son in his arms. I locked arms with him, and we walked together to the dining room. Once we entered the room, a maid and a butler came rushing out with our meals in their hands. As we neared the chairs, they set down our food then pulled out our chairs.

The maid stood aside while the man stayed. I sat to the right of Tom, who sat at the head of the table as he still held Percy. The butler came ‘round and pushed my seat in for me. The poor man could only jerk toward Tom’s direction before my fiancé held up his hand and scooted his seat forward.

Tom cleared his throat before asking, “Now, in all seriousness, how was your day, love?”

I held a hand over my mouth as I hurried to chew my food. Once I was done, I replied. “Oh, it was a lazy day today. We spent most of our time upstairs, playing, talking, and taking naps. Speaking of, he, obviously, didn’t go right to sleep after he ate, so he’ll probably be sleeping through the night again if we’re lucky.”

“Did he give you any trouble? Throw any fits?”

I shook my head. “No, he hasn’t thrown a proper fit since last month. No bad moments today.” My eyes fell upon my baby, who was gumming his papa’s tie. I reached over and tickled his chin. “This little one has been giggling all day!”

Percy squirmed away from my touch with a big smile on his face.

Tom hugged Percy tighter as he hummed. “Growin’ up to be just like his Mummy, then? That’s good to hear. You had a good day with mummy, Percy, huh?” Tom leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

Tommy leaned forward and shoveled some food in his mouth, but proved to be a challenge as our son attempted to steal his fork from him. As we ate, Percy continuously tried to steal his father’s fork away from him to the point where he began letting out little whimpers.

“Tommy,” I began.

He peered up at me, saying, “I know.” He looked back down at Percy. “Percy, behave. Daddy’s trying to eat.”

We both knew that the babe wouldn’t understand exactly, but perhaps he would. Our hopes were swiftly crushed as our son continued to make grabby hands for the fork, and his whines bumped up an octave. Tommy and I shared a sigh. I glanced behind me, and as expected, Anne was standing near the threshold of the room.

I beckoned her over, asking, “Anne, can you take Percy upstairs for his nap?”

Anne hastily walked over to Tommy, who didn’t hesitate to hand over our son. “Of course, Madam.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Bathe the boy before you lay him to rest. Thank you, Anne.”

Anne nodded with a smile on her face. “Of course, Mr. Shelby.”

I ignored the soft whimpers from my baby, stuffing my face with food. There was an ache in my heart and a pit in my stomach whenever he was sad. I just needed to learn that some actions called for the proper consequences and that coddling him too much would do him no good.

Just like it had been done with me.

Besides, Percy was probably beginning to grow fussy from the nap he never took. That’s how it usually is with babies. I took a deep breath and soothed the worries in my mind. I glanced over at Tom and smiled.

I cleared my throat. “So, I was thinking with Percy born ‘n all, we should begin talking abar the weddin’?”

Tommy had this pensive look on his face before saying, “Right, I forgot all about that.”

I tutted, leaned toward him, and tried to smack him. Tommy didn’t flinch away, and my hand didn’t connect with his arm either. He just sported a smirk as he took another bite of scran.

“Right then, first things first. We need to ‘ave an engagement party.” He said before taking a sip of whiskey.

I nodded. “I was thinking we have it when Percy’s six months.”

“Six months?”

“Yes.”

“All right, I see no problem with that.”

“Why, thank you for seeing the logic in it.” I teased before taking a rather large gulp of my water. “Plus, it gives us ample time to prepare for the occasion.”

Tommy hummed in agreement. “We’ll announce it at the next family meeting. We have one coming up next week. We’ll do it then, and I’ll leave the party planning to you.”

My eyebrows raised in surprise, and I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. “Me? Leave it to me?”

Tommy nodded with his face expressionless. “Yes. You are capable of planning a party, correct?”

The way he said it was like a taunt— a challenge.

I straightened my back and hardened my expression. “Of course.” ‘I’ve killed close to a hundred men in my life! I can handle planning a goddamn party!’

“Then, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Right.”

I squinted at him before picking my glass up and taking another sip of water. “I was thinking that we have the wedding next year instead of anytime soon. I don’t want to rush things, and well, how do you feel about it?”

Tommy nodded. “I agree. We can have the wedding next year but at the beginning of the year. Around January or February, but no later than March. Agreed?”

I snickered at how we handled this, and then the snickering turned into cackling. “Why are we talking like we’re doin’ a deal, Tommy?”

Tommy’s lips twitched upward before replying in a playful tone. “I was following your lead.”

I sighed. “¡Ay, Dios mío! ¡Chingados!” I took another deep breath before continuing, “Agreed. Probably in February, my love. I wouldn’t want to hold too many celebrations in January, and I want Percy to have his birthday month all to himself.”

“Ali, your birthday is just four days later.”

I cocked my head to the side as the information hit me like a bag of bricks. “Oh, shit! You’re right.” I giggled a little as I shook my head. “We could combine the birthdays then.”

“He’s not gonna like that when he’s older.”

I shrugged and pouted. “Time will tell. Besides, by the time he begins to even think like that, I’ll probably be too old to celebrate my birthday anymore anyhow.”

Tom huffed and smiled. “I’ll always want to celebrate the day you were born.” I smiled then reached for his hand. He took it in his and brought my hand to his lips for a kiss.

Afterward, Tom and I finished the rest of our meals briefly talkin’ about how we would tell the family and what my vision for the engagement party looked like. Then, we went upstairs only to find that Percy had fallen asleep after his bath as planned. Our baby had fallen asleep in his crib. Tommy ‘n I decided to leave him there for the rest of the night in fear of waking him up.

We continued to whisper, and we even took a shower together, but there were nothing but sweet touches— kisses on the neck and gentle caresses. I can’t describe the disappointment I felt when we simply went to bed without anything else happening.

Tom woke up just as dawn crept up. He had work today as it was a weekday, but he sensed it was nowhere near the appropriate time he should be awake. Carefully, Tom swiped his watch off the bedside nightstand and read the time. It was barely five in the morning, meaning he had an extra hour before he actually needed to be up.

‘There was no going back to sleep now,’ He thought pitifully. Tom placed his watch back onto the nightstand and then drew his attention to his side. Aliena clung to his side with a hand on his chest while the other was tucked under his arm. He raised his available hand and lovingly stroked her cheek.

This woman filled his mind 24/7, consciously and subconsciously. Tom wondered and worried if Aliena would ever understand the depth of his devotion toward her now that he had her. He didn’t care if no one else ever saw it— he just wanted her to know.

Tommy leaned down and placed a small kiss upon her lips. He continued to peck his fiancée till she stirred.

“Tommy?” She muttered questionably.

He gave her no answer and continued to kiss her with a bit more passion behind it now. The hand on his chest flew to his cheek as she propped herself up to meet his kisses.

Their kisses grew with passion, their breaths fell heavier, and their hearts were in their ears. Tom tore himself away from her lips and nestled his head along the crook of her neck, where he feverishly began laying his kisses there. Aliena let out a breathy moan as she ran her fingers through her lover’s hair, bringing him closer to her neck.

Tom didn’t cease his assault on her neck till every inch of skin was practically covered in his love bites. Ali was putty in his hands with her pussy throbbing for attention— almost on the verge of climax. He slipped the straps of her nightgown down her arms while kissing the top of her cleavage. Once Tommy uncovered her breasts entirely, he immediately went to wrap his lips around her nipple but was stopped.

Through heavy whispers, Aliena said, “Tommy, you can’t! Percy will need to eat soon.”

Tommy chuckled with a rasp that went straight to Aliena’s pussy. “He probably won’t be up for another hour, love.” He gave her left tit a teasing suck, breast milk filling his mouth slightly. “That means these,” he gave each breast a squeeze which caused milk to drip from each one. “Are mine for now.” Though he talked a big game, Tom stayed at her breasts for only a few minutes longer before trailing further down.

Aliena was utterly restless. She had been waiting for this moment for so long but was worried that their time together would be cut short. Tommy bunched up her dress so that it rested under her breasts— giving him full access to everything below.

“Tommy, please…” She rasped while throwing an arm over her eyes while her other hand found its place in Tom’s hair.

Tom chuckled breathily, “Patience, love.” He placed open-mouthed kisses down from her stomach to the top of her covered pussy. Tom pulled the garment down at a teasingly slow pace that had Aliena near tears.

She was a hair away from throwing a fucking tantrum, but somehow— she still had her pride.

Instead, the lass took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Tommy, who was beneath the sheets, kissed her labia many times before even daring to use his tongue against her. The bastard was truly going at his own pace, determined to kill his wife.

At the snail’s pace, Tom was going; it would take Ali, perhaps, thirty or twenty minutes to finish. That would leave enough window time for their early sleeper to awaken at any given time— during or afterward.

“Tommy, please. I want you to fuck me already.”

“All in good time,” he said before throwing her thighs further apart and began to ravish his lover as she liked.

The change in tempo forced Aliena to bite down on her arm as she attempted to stifle her squeal. This man knew how to drive her absolutely mad! The woman was a gasping, panting mess.

Tom was in utter heaven. He could eat her for hours on end— had done it before ‘n God, did he miss it. Some minutes later, Tommy added his fingers into the mix, driving Aliena wild. Her hips bucked, and her thighs desperately tried to clamp shut. Tommy wouldn’t allow it. Lord knows how he loves Ali’s plump thighs around his ears, but no. Any other time he might’ve allowed it, but this time he was in control.

Tommy had two fingers thrusting into his lover’s tight pussy while he suckled on her clit before he felt her shake.

“Oh, Tommy! Tommy, I’m coming!” She exclaimed softly, an arm still shielding her face while the other fisted the sheets. Tommy didn’t make an effort to respond as he was dead set on making her come. Within seconds, he got his wish, but he didn’t let up.

Aliena whimpered from the oversensitivity. “No… Tommy, no…” She begged against her better nature. She felt her sensibility slip from her with each stroke of his tongue. Falling deeper into her haze of lust.

Tommy’s cock was painfully hard— he had half a mind just to begin rutting against the mattress. But this wasn’t about his pleasure; the man didn’t want it to be about him. So, when he parted from this sweet cunt of his, it was but for a moment as he flung the covers off of his body.

Tom yanked Aliena further down the sheets causing her to let out a series of giggles. He groaned loudly as he returned to his ministrations. Aliena threw her head back, biting her bottom lip while both hands found a home in her lover’s hair.

Ali threw herself into the chase; the original goal was lingering in the back of her mind but coming again definitely topped the list. Tom’s grip on Ali’s hips was bruising, his pace was rapid, and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

“Oh, Tom! Fuck!” Aliena gasped as she arched her back. “I’m so close… Don’t stop!”

However, the room came to a standstill as a shrill cry came from the nursery.

Though deep down Aliena wanted to whimper and cry, she was already gathering herself together.

Tommy lifted his head and cursed. “Fuck! Aliena, love, wait! Let him cry a little. He’ll be alright.”

Already propped up on her elbows, Ali switched her gaze between her lover and the door to her son’s nursery. Her lustfulness was begging her to listen to Tommy, but the cries of her son weighed on her conscious. She shook her head. “N-No, I can’t. I’m so sorry, Tommy.” For reasons she can’t explain, tears sprang to her eyes as she scurried away from Tom.

Tom released his grip in defeat ‘n watched as his girl scrambled back up the bed, pulled the straps of her nightie up, and then climbed off the bed toward their son’s nursery. He got up to his knees, then sat on his legs, fists curled up on thighs. The man threw his head back as he heaved a large breath and closed his eyes.

He was so fucking close.

The tension in his jaw mattered not— the fact that Ali was now saddened did. Tom took one more deep breath before he sat up properly on the side of the bed. Checking the watch on his nightstand, he read the time, “6:34.”

That son of his was getting too good at tellin’ time, he didn’t make his wife come a second time, and now he was running late for work.

Today was not going to be a good day.

No way was that going to be the end of it. No fucking way! Tommy took a shower and got ready while I was still breastfeeding Percy. I think he was even running late ‘cause he zipped out of the house like a bat out of hell. I’ll give him that, but no way was I going to let that be the end of it!

I’m not even chasing my own high! I want his! I’m having sex with my fiancé today if it’s the last thing I fucking do! I’m a woman on a mission, and nothing is getting in my way today.

So I didn’t waste time as I made my arrangements. Tommy made it easy for me by never taking lunch, so I’ll use that as my excuse. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to leave Percy with Cassie or Polly, but the thought of facing Pol’ with shagging her nephew in mind was too much a burden to bear. I rang up Cass ‘n asked if she could take care of her godson for a couple of hours. I was grateful that the nosy Nancy, for once, wasn’t prying.

She seemed genuinely ecstatic at the thought of seeing Percy. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she called Dougie to join her. Cassie and the lot of them haven’t been ‘round the house much, but that’s mainly my doing. My baby is barely three, four months! Usually, I wouldn’t even dare take him outside ‘de ‘ouse till he was six months old, but these were different times.

I couldn’t even do that if I tried; after all, I wasn’t raising him by myself. My mother would’ve had an absolute fit if she found out I took Percy out without all his shots. Though, to be fair, I don’t even think they have all the baby vaccines yet anyhow. Which is still worrying, but I know that none of the people around me will catch an illness anytime soon.

Well, excluding my friends…

I should probably be more cautious about that in the future.

In fucking conclusion, after feeding Percy, I ate breakfast then we both took a bath. I made it fun ‘n my baby boy was full of smiles the whole time. Even made a show of picking out my scandalous outfit that I was going to use to seduce his father, kinda like that scene in Look Who’s Talking.

However, he wasn’t old enough to sit on his own and join me by my vanity. That’s when Anne came in, and I enlisted her help watching him as I did my hair and makeup. Truthfully, the dress I was in was more appropriate for the summer as a nightgown, but I’m wearing it in the spring.

Do I care? No, I’m on a mission. I feel sexy in said dress, and I’m looking for something that I can easily slip on and off. It’s beige and best resembles a curtain, if I’m honest. It’s tough to describe, but it was a lace boho sundress. Spaghetti straps, by the way— not long-sleeved or anything else. I used foundation and concealer as my base. Added some mascara ‘n foxy eyeliner, added in some light brown almost nude eyeshadow, and a pink lip. Not obnoxiously pink, but not precisely nude either.

I left my hair to curl up on its own, only fixing up a few stubborn hairs. It was around eight in the morning by the time I was done. I retrieved my beige fur collar coat from the rack slipped on some black high heels. I have no idea what they were called. The salesperson surely told me, but one ear out the other with me.

Percy and I spent time together downstairs after I sent Anne on the hunt for a basket to put the food in. I had the good sense to tell the cook what I wanted made beforehand; otherwise, I would’ve been late leaving.

Lunchtime at Shelby Company Ltd. was at 1:30 for all office employees, and that’s the time I intended on arriving, which is why I had to leave at the latest nine! It was a two-hour drive to London from Warwickshire and another two hours to Birmingham. If all goes according to plan, I will arrive in the city around 12 or 1.

I should mention that I eventually managed to get my car onto our estate. I asked Cassie and Dom to make it a big thing ‘n act like I was being gifted the vehicle for the first time. Tommy wasn’t exactly happy about the extravagant gift, and I’m confident that when they switch up the company cars— I’m getting a switch as well.

However, I wasn’t driving today. I had other duties to conclude during the ride to London. You see, breast pumps weren’t really a thing in 1923. Formula is, for sure, a thing, but I didn’t want my Percy to be drinking that stuff. So, I needed someone else driving while I got creative in the back seat. Do you want to know what also isn’t invented yet? Baby car seats and seat belts are nowhere near being developed in the 1920s.

Yes, you guessed it. Anne was joining me on this journey. The driver (a Peaky Blinder) was in the front— driving. Eyes on the road! While Anne and I were in the back, Anne took care of Percy. My baby boy looked positively a-fucking-dorable! My little man looks like a sailor with a cap ‘n all. I was beside them with my coat open…and my tits out as I coaxed my milk out into bottles. I planned to fill four to six bottles, depending on how much I could get out.

I had never done this before, but I figured it would be the same method back home. Ya know, keep it chilled or at least refrigerated ‘n all will be well! Which is why I had a basket filled with ice packs to cool the milk. It’s not a particularly hot day here in England, but I wasn’t taking any chances in anything concerning my child.

Well, I am doing a lot just to get my own fiancé to make love to me. Quite embarrassing and telling about the things I do to satiate my sexual urges. Hmm, burying my head in a hole right now sounds nice!

Anyhow, you’re all caught up! Welcome to the present!

When I noticed we were nearing the Ritz, I quickly redressed myself and ensured everything was there for Percy. It didn’t matter that Anne and I had already checked thrice beforehand— I had to do it once more.

I managed to fill six bottles. It was hard work ‘n my tits hurt like hell, but my child would be fed. I pray Tommy will let them rest, but I could deal with the pain should he decide to pay special attention to them.

With a heavy sigh, I sat up straight after closing up the basket and faced Anne. “Alrighty, then. Give ‘em here, Anne.” I waved both arms then smoothed my hands around his tiny body. She passed my baby over to me. “Thank you,” I muttered. I shimmed back against the seats and ran a finger down the side of Percy’s face. “‘Ello, my love. You’ve been such a good boy.”

Percy just fussed in response with an absent look on his face. I giggled, then leaned down to nuzzle my nose against his. “Mummy is gonna miss you so much!” Guilt was starting to settle in ‘n fast.

‘I mean! I could’ve waited till Tom got home, but I didn’t wanna. There was something scandalous about what I was planning that I missed. Our spark is still there, and I want to make sure it stays lit. I don’t want him to get bored with me and with him not—! For lack of better words, penetrating me! It was creating dark thoughts in me head.’

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves I had built up. I looked back down at my baby and smiled. “Mummy and Daddy will be there to pick you up, and you’ll have a fun time with Auntie Cassie. I know you will!” I kissed his forehead and continued to lay kisses all around his face.

“Mrs. Shelby, we’ve arrived.”

I picked up my head, and sure enough, we were outside of the hotel. I inhaled deeply before exhaling with puffed-up cheeks. I looked at Anne and nodded. “Let’s rip the band-aid off, eh.” She nodded with a slight smile on her face as she grabbed Percy’s things.

Cassie and Dougie were on the steps waiting anxiously as if they were adoptees about to receive their child. I swallowed down my anxieties and pulled on a smiling face. I shouted, “Hello, hello!” Cassie rushed over to me with Dougie close behind.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you!” She said before kissing my cheek. I replied the same. She looked down at Percy and gasped before glancing back at Dougie. “He’s gotten bigger since the last time we’ve seen him. Oh my god!”

Dougie scoffed behind her, sporting a smirk. “Jesus, love, you saw him only a few weeks ago.”

She sucked her teeth in annoyance and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so? Babies can grow a lot in a few weeks!”

“It’s true; they can.”

She huffed triumphantly before her sights set on me. “So, are you sure about this? Maybe you can stay awhile, you know? Get him settled in if you’d like.”

I looked down at my perfect boy and felt my drive slip. I shook my head as if someone else were controlling me. “No… It’s alright.”

Anne cleared her throat beside me. “Perhaps I can stay with the young master if you’d prefer that instead, madam?”

My eyebrows furrowed, Percy made wiggling motions in my arms. It felt like he could feel my confusion and frustration. My mouth opened, and an utterance was let out, but not a word came to mind.

She looked over at Anne, her face just as conflicted. Dougie stepped toward me with his arms stretched out. One hand cradled the back of Percy’s neck while the other cradled his body. He said while gently taking Percy into his embrace, “We’ll be glad to have the company. I’ve had older sisters but never had them into my care this early on. Met the little ones when they were older ‘cause of the war. Plus, I’m not sure Cassie’s ever had to take care of babies, either? Right, love?”

Cassie pulled her lips in and shook her head bashfully. I nodded and smiled. “Oh, then, Anne, it’d be wonderful if you could help them.” I took Cassie’s hands into mine and whispered, “There’s nothing wrong with you not knowing. If Anne weren’t there to help me 24/7, then I’d be like a headless chicken. I promise.”

Cassie nodded again, her eyes flitting toward Anne. “Thank you,” she muttered. Anne simply flashed her a grin ‘n bowed her head.

I swallowed harshly with my eyes locked on Percy. “Okay, well, I hafta get going. Anne will help youse with everythin’ so—!'' Another deep breath. “This is see youse later.” I shuffled over to Dougie and smothered my baby boy’s face with kisses. “Mummy loves you and will see you later. I love you.” I gave the rest of them a kiss goodbye, told them I loved them too, and then got back into the car.

I spent a good half of the car ride just getting myself together mentally. Anne would help Cassie and Dougie take care of Percy. Everything was going to be just fine. I know it will be. I wanted this pit in my stomach to be gone. So, I began fantasizing about Tommy. About his body, his face— anything and everything about him.

Eventually, I began to feel the shift in my body. Blood rushed to my cheeks, my thighs were clenched together, and there was a throbbing between my legs. I cleared my throat and glanced over to the front. The man kept his eyes on the road. I didn’t remember his name. I probably should, but I’m hardly ever outside, and when I am, I’m accompanied by one of Dom’s men and one Peaky Blinder.

Their names were Will and Frank, good men.

I cleared my throat. “Hey, can you tell me what time it is?”

There was a bit of shuffling around before he replied, “12:22, ma’am. We’re almost in Birmingham. I’d say about ‘alf an hour more.”

I hummed and thanked him. I went back to fantasizing about Tommy. It just helped in general. It helped ensure I was in the right mindset for the awful stunt I was about to pull.

But was it genuinely awful? I feel like it’s actually quite common. I mean, didn’t Linda do this with Arthur? Well, that bitch wanted something from ‘em, didn’t she? Linda was manipulating the poor man. I just want to have sex with mine ‘cause I desire him. I think that makes me a way better woman. Yeah, conscious soothed.

When the streets became too familiar, I gathered the basket from the car floor onto my lap then started smoothing out my hair. Soon the car was pulling into the company street; then, we were parked right outside.

“What time is it?” I asked while scooting closer to the car door.

He cleared his throat with a stifled cough. “1:40, ma’am.”

“Good!” I bit my lip in excitement. “Um, you can return to the estate. I’ll get Tom to drive me back.”

“Are you sure, ma’am? I can wait if you’d like!”

I shook my head. “I’m sure. Goodbye.” I didn’t care if he responded or not. I had already climbed out of the car. There was no one to open the door for me, not that I cared, but usually, I caught someone as they were heading out. I beelined it directly to Tommy’s office, and I gotta tell ya, it was fucking weird seeing it so barren.

But I was glad of it ‘cause it meant no one would be here for the start of the show. “Shelby Company Ltd” was plastered on the doors to Tom’s office. I sincerely hated that he chose to have glass on ‘em. Granted, it’s not see-through glass, but they’re not wooden doors either. Those who would dare sneak a peek into his office could see what the pair of us were up to.

Sure the image would be blurry, but hardly the sound!

I knocked on the door ‘n waited.

He shouted, “Come in!”

I didn’t hesitate to open a door and walk on in. I turned ‘round to check if the coast was clear one more time, then shut the door. I was locking the door when I heard from behind me, “What is it?”

I steeled my nerves then twirled ‘round to face ‘em. Tommy’s eyes instantly met mine, and it was like all my worries melted away. I dropped the basket; my heart was beating faster. I worked on untying the belt of my coat, unfastening the buttons afterward— my breathing picked up. Tom didn’t say a word. He leaned back in his chair ‘n while keeping his eyes on me; he reached for his cigarette case.

I watched as he lit it up and did a French inhale. I couldn’t help but bite my lip as I let my coat slip off my arms.

Tom held the ciggie between two fingers. His facial expression was stone-cold but oh so sexy. “Are you not wearing a bra under that?”

I huffed, then smirked. “Why don’t you come over here ‘n find out for yourself?”

Tom raised his eyebrow as he took another pull. “Our son?”

“With his godparents and Anne.”

“Clever girl. Had this planned, did you?”

I bit my lip again but quickly released it. I nodded as I whispered, “Yes.”

Tommy hummed before rising to his feet. I went to meet him halfway. He walked to the front of his desk then leaned his body against it. I didn’t stop walking till I was in front of him. I slid my arms around his waist, pressing my body against him as I maintained eye contact.

His eyes were so beautiful and clearly showed how badly I was affecting him, as was the erection poking my midsection. Tom cupped my face, and we continued to stare at each other. His pointer finger from his left hand began stroking my face. Tom raised the other to his ciggie and hissed softly as he inhaled.

“You couldn’t wait till I got home to get was denied to you, hm? Even shipped our son away so that you could come here ‘n visit me.”

Heat enveloped my face ‘n my eyes became heavier as they fluttered. I was embarrassed, yes, but it also turned me on. “I need you, Tommy. Please, I need you.” I tried pulling his mouth down on mine, but he stood firm. I huffed, prodded my cheek with my tongue, and shook my head as I scoffed.

It was cute at first, but now it was all too “asshole-ish.” I stepped away from him as I continued to shake my head. “Okay, then. See you at home.” I spun on my heels and made it about five steps away from him before I felt his tight grip on my arm. Tom yanked me back toward him, and I was left breathless as he smashed his lips on mine.

I moaned in surprise, and it didn’t matter that all I wanted to do was be putty in his hands. The fucker pissed me off. I pounded away at his arms, trying to part away from him, but God was he strong. Our teeth clashed, and our tongues fought for control.

I wasn’t allowed to part from ‘em, not for anything. Not even to breathe. Instead, we parted till Tom trailed off from my lips to my neck. I gasped for breath and let out a moan. My eyes rolled back as his tongue ran over my neck, his teeth nipped at it, and he sucked.

I let out an open-mouthed, breathy chuckle before I rasped, “I fucking hate you sometimes.” Tom groaned into my neck as his hands traveled down south. Giggles erupted as he squeezed my arse while tugging my body closer to him. When Tom squeezed once more, I realized the ciggie was still between his fingers. “Tommy,” I whispered. Our bodies shifted slightly as he turned his attention to the left side of my neck. “Your ciggie, it’s still burning.”

Muffled, he replied. “Aye, hold it for me, will you?” The bastard didn’t give me a chance as he placed the stick between my lips. I held onto it for dear life. I didn’t want it falling on ‘em!

He successfully silenced me all while continuing his assault on my neck. My panties were getting increasingly more annoying. They were soaked, and I hated feeling it against me. We stayed there, writhing against one another as he littered my neck in love bites. God and I loved every second of it.

My eyes shot open when Tom abruptly stood up straight. His crazed eyes met my hooded ones before he plucked the ciggie away from my lips and inhaled. A hand roughly nestled its way in my hair, his fingers curling around my strands. I gasped as he forced me to walk with him back toward his desk.

Tom stubbed out the ciggie then faced me. His mouth crashed on mine, and I felt the bitter smoke enter my mouth. I didn’t hesitate to inhale. We continued to kiss for so long that I had no choice but to exhale from my nose. His other hand threaded itself into my hair, and it felt so fucking good.

My hands were fisting his lapels, but I decided to start unbuckling his belt. He let me and only gave me that before roughly pulling us apart. It was such a noisy parting.

Breathily, Tom whispered. “Woman, you drive me fucking wild.”

I scoffed. “Not too bad yourself.”

He chuckled, a smile on his face as he shook his head. “I don’t think I can treat you how you deserve to be treated right now.”

My eyes fluttered at the threat, a hand raising to one of his. I clutched his wrist and smiled. “Then don’t.” His tongue prodded his cheek before a smirk etched across his face. I didn’t think I could get any wetter. Our lips crashed onto one another, but this time he was leading me somewhere. I trusted him enough to follow his lead as he led me backward.

Nothing could’ve prepared me from gasping as I was roughly spun ‘round and pinned against the wall. Tommy kicked my legs further apart, and I’m so fucking glad I chose to wear heels with some height to them. With my breasts pressed against the wall as well as my hands, I waited for Tommy to unsheathe himself.

Could hear his zipper being pulled down, and then there was pressure around my hips along with a rip. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Jesus, woman, you’re fucking soaked. Haven’t been treatin’ you right, ‘ave I, Aliena?”

I shook my head. “No, but you can fix that right here ‘n now.” I felt so lightheaded with adrenaline. I wanted his cock so fucking badly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Then without warning, Tommy thrusted into me. I cried out in a cocktail of pleasure and pain as Tommy moaned into my ear. “Fucking heaven,” he muttered. “You’re fucking heaven. So fucking tight. God, I fucking missed this pussy.” He pulled out till only the tip was in, then slammed back into me. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and my toes were curling in my heels.

He continued with this a couple of times, and regretfully that was all it took. My thighs, my legs— they both trembled violently as I came. Tommy was laughing behind me. “Don’t even think we’re gonna stop just ‘cause you got yours! No, we’re not stopping till I say we are.” An’ like a flip of a switch, Tommy was pounding into me with newfound fervor.

A high-pitched squeal escaped from me as pleasure tingled all over my body. I was stuck between throwing myself into mindless abandon and being conscious of the fact that we were still in his office. I whimpered and let out a strained, long breath. “Fuck me…!”

Tommy was worse than me with his heavy, strained pants, moans, ‘n whines. But being both of us being pent up for so long meant quick finishes, ‘cause after a couple of more pumps, Tommy’s hips were stuttering ‘n then warmness spread within. It didn’t end there, though. No fucking way.

Tommy pulled out of me, but only to drag me toward his chair. He hurriedly threw his belt away, and I worked on the hundreds of buttons he had on his torso. Tom brought down his pants just enough before sitting down and pulling me onto his lap. My straps, which were already falling off my shoulders, were pulled down.

My breasts were naked, and my dress was hiked up. Both of us hurried to slip his cock inside me again, and we simultaneously moaned once he was. I kept the tempo slow, not wanting to rush into it. I would’ve, honestly, but the times I had— Tommy would be quick to stop me. So, I’ve learned to ease into it.

My hands were on his shoulders as I slowly rode his cock. My clit was rubbing against him, making it all the more pleasurable. Though, I guess I was going too slow ‘cause Tommy thrusted upward ‘n then kept going. I picked up the cue and hastened my pace. I loved the burn in my muscles, but not as much as the blissed-out look on Tommy’s face.

I felt the moan build up in my throat ‘n I couldn’t find myself caring to quiet myself anymore. Throwing my head back, my left hand flew to Tommy’s knee as I leaned back.

I can’t even describe what I was doing. I was following my body’s instinct. Was I just rolling my hips instead of bouncing? Was I grinding on him? I don’t care… God, I wanna come so fucking much!

“That’s it, love, chase it! Make yourself come with my cock. Wanna feel it.” Tom tugged my torso closer to him, and I practically shouted in my surprise as he began suckling my tit. He stayed there a bit longer, drinking my milk before parting. He kissed my nipple, then tugged on it with his teeth. While leaning back into his chair, Tommy’s gaze was locked on my breasts. His hands trailed upward from my sides to them. I hissed loudly when Tom squeezed.

“Fucking love these tits. All fucking mine.”

I giggled, my hips coming to a stop.

“What’s so funny, Ali?”

I shook my head, my hands falling back to his torso. “It’s just that. They’re not all yours.” Tom rolled his eyes. “Oi, if your son could understand the implication of what you just said, he’d throw a fit.” The thought made me laugh again. Tommy smiled and shook his head.

With a hand in my hair, we leaned toward each other and met with a kiss. Tommy hooked his hands in the crook of my knees, and then I was lifted into his arms. My heels were begging to come off my feet, but I arched them just enough so that they would stay on.

Tommy set me down on his desk ‘n led me down till my back was draped over his desk. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Our lips never parted. Not when he began thrusting— only when we grew near to our orgasms again.

We were practically moaning into each other’s mouths before Tommy stood up straight, grabbed my hips, and started pounding into me. I reached down and played with my clit— I was coming in seconds. Eyes rolled back, one heel came off, and my back was arching as my other hand fondled my tit. Tommy was not too far off.

When the ringing in my ears ‘n my vision came back, I realized that Tommy had dragged us back to his chair with me resting on top of him. Plus, there was rustling outside. I cursed under my breath as I closed my eyes again.

“What is it, Ali?” Tommy asked, somewhat breathlessly.

I shook my head, saying, “It’s nothing. I’d hoped we had more time to ourselves before the staff came back.” I picked myself up from his chest and swiped away the hair that had fallen into my face. I took a deep breath; my cheeks puffed up. “And I really wanted to get the chance to use the fucking restroom.”

Tommy scoffed softly; a grin flashed across his face. “Mm, looks like you didn’t have it all worked out then, eh?” He ran his hands over my thighs before spanking my arse with both of his heavy, ring-bearing hands. I gasped breathily, my body flinching.

He was lucky I was so exhausted. Otherwise, I would’ve hit him, but I just slumped against him instead.

“Fix it, Tommy.”

He sighed loudly before whispering, “What am I gonna do with you?”

I only blew raspberries as a response.

To save me from any further embarrassment, Tom called it a half-day, and we left his office together. Not before I hit the restroom on the way out, though. The drive to the Ritz was pretty hazy, and I ended up taking a nap in the car, only waking up when the car rolled to a stop.

We picked up Percy and Anne, thanked Cassie ‘n Dougie, and headed home. I was so happy to see my baby boy again and be with his father. We spent the entirety of the rest of the day with him after I freshened up a bit, of course.

It was like that weird block between us vanished ‘cause this fucker was insatiable. I had to actually deny him once! Plus, there was the addition of a condom when we made love. I was serious about not wanting another child so soon after Percy. I wanted our son to have his alone time with us as much as he could before we gave him a sibling.

The family meeting came up relatively quickly, and after Tommy ‘n them got business out of the way, we were going to announce our engagement party.

Keyword: Were.

We were rudely interrupted by Linda and, by association, Arthur.

I was standing beside Tommy with Percy in my arms. All attention was on us after Tommy called for it, and I was just about to open my mouth when Linda cleared her throat as she shot up from her seat. Arthur stumbled to follow her lead.

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. I bounced my sleeping babe, waiting for the woman to say what she interrupted me for; however, Linda only nudged Arthur.

The man stammered over his words. “Um, uh, sorry to interrupt you, Aliena.” I nodded. Arthur fiddled with the cap in his hands before straightening up. “I would’ve liked to do this once Tom ‘n Ali said their piece; however, plans change. They change all the time.” He cleared his throat as Linda nudged him again, even harder this time as she hissed his name. “I-I would like to announce that I’ve asked Linda to marry me ‘n she’s said yes!”

At that moment, I wasn’t proud to admit that I felt nothing but annoyance. I’m 100% sure that Tommy felt the same ‘cause he did not move an inch, not even his facial expression. He looked as deadpan as could be, but cheers erupted beside us.

I took a short shuffle closer to him ‘n nudged him like Linda has been doin’ to Arthur. He looked at me from his peripherals, and I demonstrated the facial expressions we should both be sporting. A big ole’ smile spread across my face, and he mimicked it. Since my hands were busy holding our son, Tommy clapped for us.

My gaze fell on Polly just as she turned to look at me. Her eyes said everything, and I felt the same. Tommy moved closer to his older brother to personally congratulate him. John ‘n Tommy took turns hugging and patting Arthur on the back. It was nice to see smiles on their faces, especially Arthur’s, seeing as Tommy’s was somewhat insincere.

I followed my fiancé’s lead and walked over to Linda to congratulate her more intimately. I held Percy closer to my chest as I leaned in to kiss her cheek as I congratulated her. Funnily enough, the thought did cross my mind that I was holding Percy closer to me to shield him from the awful person I thought Linda was.

‘She didn’t like my Tommy, and I’m sure she didn’t like me, so why the hell did I hafta like her?’

John cleared his throat, saying, “Right, congratulations Arthur, again! But Ali, Thomas, what did youse ‘ave to say?”

Everybody looked around the room before shuffling back to where we previously stood. Tommy and I took our places quicker than the rest, and we used it to our advantage.

I was staring up at him, hoping he could read my mind, and all he did was give me a nod. So, I took a deep breath before saying, “Right! Tommy and I wanted to tell all of you that we’ll be holding an engagement party in five months’ time, and we’ve decided that the wedding won’t be till next year. The date isn’t exactly set, but it’ll happen at the beginning of the year.”

Tom wrapped an arm around my waist, tucking me into his side. “We don’t have any details on the party yet. Only that Aliena’s friends are sure to attend as well, so you’ll all be expected to be on your best behavior. It’ll most likely be fancy ‘n posh—” The comment made snickers and chuckles spread throughout the room. “, so perhaps take the time to buy something for the occasion. Does anybody have anything to add before we end this meeting?”

Everybody held their tongues, and that was that!

Polly and Ada were quick to surround me to ask if I had any ideas in mind. I told them I had a vague one, and we spent a good hour just brainstorming ideas. I was utterly clueless about how to plan and host a party. It seemed easy enough, but it would take a lot of talking and— ew, work.

I knew I wanted to be either at the Ritz or home, but I just wasn’t sure which. The Ritz-Carlton has barely begun its rapid climb to fame, but it’s still fucking expensive. Cassie and Ange went halfers on the venue last time as a kind gesture towards Tom ‘n I, but we would probably rent out more than one venue this time ‘round.

When I met with the girls, my suspicions were proven correct. There were at least three separate rooms that I would need to book to host an engagement party there, and it wasn’t going to be cheap. I spent the first party meeting just shooting the shit ‘cause I didn’t want to make any moves without consulting Tommy first. Hell, we didn’t even discuss a budget, and I know we were making good money, but I didn’t know how “good” we were talking about here!

And the truth was that I could pay for the party myself. Probably put a dent in my savings, but I wasn’t above going back to work later in life. I could do a hit or two when Percy or my future children were at school. I got really good at disguise makeup to the point where I couldn’t even recognize myself at times. I’m sure I could get back into the game! Well, only if it came to that.

But like I said, the first meeting was filled with “what-ifs,” then when they left, I waited for Tommy to come home. When he did, I discussed everything with him. He told me that the starting budget would be £50,000 ‘n if I needed more than that, we could talk.

In all honesty, I thought that was enough. I asked if he wanted the party to be at home or the Ritz, and it took him a while before he could respond.

“Whatever you want, love. Just try ‘n stay within the budget, yeah?”

I nodded with my heart pounding away at my chest so profoundly I thought it was trying to escape. “Tommy, it wouldn’t matter to me where we have the party. Hell, I wouldn’t mind skipping it. All I want is you ‘n Percy. You know that, right?”

Tommy and I stared into each other’s eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched upward before he schooled his expression. He nodded, softly saying, “I know, Ali. I know. Now, hand over my son, eh. You’ve had your time with ‘em now it’s my turn! ‘Ello, ‘ello, you!”

Talking about money was always tricky and made me feel guilty. My mates were all rich toffs, richer than Tommy even. I just didn’t want to make him feel insecure or like inferior. I didn’t want to make it seem like we had to have all our events at the Ritz just because I was so used to being there. I would’ve been happy with the other hotel that Tommy’s destined to buy. I forgot what it’s called, but I’m sure it’s just as lovely.

I know that sounded somewhat backhanded, but I frankly forgot the hotel’s name! And the money truly doesn’t matter to me! I said many things in the past about marrying rich, but that was a survival tactic. You know, if I can’t live and marry for love, I might as well do it for the money. Or something along those lines, you know?

Anyway, soon all my plans were coming together with the help of my darling boy. Couldn’t bear to leave Percy alone for a second. I loved having him in my arms way too much, but I can’t deny that he was a distraction. He still helped, nonetheless. Percy forced me to take breaks and clear my mind when I felt it was all becoming a bit too much.

I met with the girls, including Polly and Ada (I invited Esme and Linda; they just didn’t come), and we hit the town. The first stop was the Ritz to get a quote on how much reserving three rooms would be, and it totaled £33,000. However, the catering would be an add-on, not a joint expenditure, and we would need to put some money down for any damages if any. The deposit would depend on if we chose to add in the catering plus an additional charge should we have to make any last-minute changes. In actuality, it was more around £38,500.

I talked it over briefly with everyone, and I decided to sign the contract. I made an £8,000 deposit for June 16th. It would be a Saturday and not too early within the month! I would have to make the full payment at most a week before the event. I would’ve paid upfront, but everyone advised me not to. I’m guessing they would’ve tried something…or something.

I had £11,500 leftover, and I was so glad I had all the ladies by my side, or else I would’ve probably given the money back to Tommy. I was dead set on buying my dress with my own money, but I think I could buy it with the budget instead. A lot was already settled by booking the rooms at the Ritz, including the floral arrangements, chairs, tables, and catering. However, it didn’t include entertainment, aka music. Angie and Cassie suggested I do party favors, but Polly was against the idea. She didn’t see the point in it, and truthfully, I saw both of their issues.

Hell, did you know Tommy and I weren’t even supposed to be throwing our engagement party? According to Angie, it’s supposed to be thrown by the bride’s parents or a friend or relative. It stung to hear that it was supposed to be my parents’ responsibility, but I was swift to bury the feeling.

I loved them with all my heart, but it was time to move on… You know?

I’m guessing the reason Tommy wanted us to throw the party rather than leave it into someone else’s hands was a grab at staying in control. I would’ve had an issue with someone else planning the party, too, but would’ve liked to have the conversation first. Plus, I didn’t want this to become a big thing on the day either.

I was dreading the whispers these posh bitches were gonna have! They would go on and on about us being lower class ‘n it showing ‘cause we didn’t have the party the “proper” way.

After booking the Ritz, we headed back to Cassie’s flat to reconvene and get started on those invitations. They were to be handwritten as per Angie’s instruction. Having about seven pairs of hands writing was better than only one, so I was thankful for the help. It was going to be a grand party, alright! Immediate families were definitely invited, but then came the outsiders.

While working for Dom, I made a few friends and thought it was only fitting to invite them. Some of them saved my arse a few times on the job, so might as well! Then I took Tom’s interests into mind and thought about inviting some businessmen to the party. Luckily, I didn’t even have to introduce the notion since my gals brought it up themselves. Angie said she’d be happy to invite some people she knew, as did Tina, but I reckon her connections were women rather than men. Cassie said she would as well ‘n ask Dougie for some names, including his father if I wanted.

I told them I’d ask Tommy if it was okay. Polly seemed to like my response as she rubbed my thigh under the table ‘n gave me a grin. We continued with the invitations till we decided to eat lunch. Afterward, we just hung out. Some point during that time, Polly and Ada both told me how they were upset with Linda since she did what she did at the family meeting. I aired my grievances too, and we took the piss outta ‘er. Refreshing really!

At the end of the day, when I was at home with Percy ‘n later on, Tommy, I asked him about how he felt with all these outsiders coming to our party.

This man was a fucking master at micro-expressions, but I had the eyes of a hawk!

Tom tried to appear indifferent about the proposition, but I saw the furrow in his brow. I never thought I would ever go through the whole “coaxing the truth out of my partner” event, but there I was. After softening him up with neck kisses and a massage, he finally told me the truth.

There were two things: he wasn’t sure that I would be 100% okay with him doing business on the day, and he didn’t like the fact they would be by default “my connections.” Like I worried, Tom felt emasculated that he was getting help from his wife-to-be rather than his own influences.

“Oh, my love.” I kissed his shoulder before shuffling off the bed, standing before him, then straddling his lap. I took his face into my hands and peppered his face with kisses. “First of all, I know you, Thomas Shelby. There will hardly be a day that you’re not working, and I know eventually that’ll get on me nerves. However, who gives a fuck, eh? It’s just an engagement party.” I chuckled.

Tommy scoffed with a smirk on his face. His eyes drifted all over mine just as he began stroking my cheek with his thumb.

I continued, “Meet these people, hmm? Give them a run for their money, or whatever it is you do.” We both laughed at that. “People will always talk, love. You told me that, no? They’ll gossip abar how we got together, our age gap, and our pasts. I say fuck ‘em. All that matters is that we persevere and appear as a solidified unit.”

“That right?”

I nodded. “Is fucking right. We’ll both give them one hell of a stern look. Make them shake in their boots.” I ran my fingers through his hair before placing a hard kiss on his lips.

Tommy took a deep breath through his nose, staring into my eyes. “Aliena Welsh, the love of my life, how was I so lucky to ‘ave found you?”

I looked away and pursed my lips as my head tipped to the left. I hummed, “I don’t know.”

Tom caressed me as he whispered, “Don’t ever change, Aliena. I need you. I need you by my side more than you know.”

“And I you.” Our mouths smashed together, which led to us having sex.

I asked about the entertainment the morning after, which was again left up to me. I met up with only the girls this time, seeing as Polly and Ada had work ‘n we went looking for a band or something.

See, I wanted a jazz band, but the loudness of the playing might’ve not been appropriate for this kind of party. I also wanted a female and male singer because as much as I love some good plain instrumentals— I fucking miss lyrics! I hired a Blues & Jazz band or company by the end of the morning. I don’t know. I let Angie handle this one.

I was there at the transactions, giving my input when asked, but I was more concerned about Percy. He’s been babbling more, sleeping through the night, loves colours, and has a bit more object permanence. That means he loves peek-a-boo right now, and his case of the grabby hands has gotten worse. But I love it all!

I was happy to tell the girls that Tommy approved of the extended invitation list, and we spent the rest of the day writing the rest of them. Once I returned home, I had taken the time to handwrite my loved ones’ invitations myself. It would’ve been too awkward had I done them at Cassie’s flat.

Eventually, I decided against doing party favors but welcomed Cassie or Angie to take up the job if they wished. They both told me that if I didn’t want them, then the idea was sacked. By the way, the entertainment cost £3,000 since it was £100 an hour and I decided 10 hours would be best.

The day after, I went dress shopping with Anne. I wanted to see if the dress I had in mind existed before I went ‘n visited Sinead, my dressmaker. Sinead was a master of her craft even at her young age. I’ve been with her from the very beginning, though I’ve only recently remembered her name.

‘Sorry, Sinead.’

I didn’t manage to find what I was looking for and, as such, went to give Sinead a visit. The lass always knew what I sought. My clothing descriptions sucked, but she never failed to understand my gibberish. It’s why I paid her so much. This outfit would cost me around £650. After ordering the dress and the matching headband, we went for a walk in the park. Playgrounds weren’t a big thing yet, and even if they were— I wouldn’t take Percy anywhere near one.

I didn’t want him contracting anything from other kids. He stayed in his pram the entire time and was only out in my or Anne’s arms. We went home around midday. Upon Tom’s arrival, I reported all my expenses to him and was happy to say that I had more than £7k leftover of the budget.

I swear to God that his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree! There was no way he’d ever express it, but I knew he loved having that much money left over from the budget.

I knew my soon-to-be husband. I asked him whether or not he would order himself a new tailored suit for the occasion. He loved the idea but acted indifferently. He was on cloud fucking 9. It led to some enthusiastic love-making that night! However, even if everything was in order— the party planning continued.

I had to pick the decorations, the table pieces, the flowers, the chairs, the tables, the food, the drinks, and then the music. I had to choose which pieces I wanted to listen to, what was acceptable ‘n at what point during the night. It was insane, and quite frankly, I wanted Tommy beside me. I wanted him to help me pick everything seeing as this was a party to celebrate us, and I was confident enough to ask him.

I don’t know why I was worried; he gave me an automatic yes. We made a whole day of it with Percy and Anne. Anne was only there if we needed her to take care of Percy. However, it was more like she got the day off, seeing as Tommy wanted to carry his son the entire time. It was so cute! Tommy was wearing his signature peaked cap, but he’s been wearing ones without a razor ‘cause of Percy’s grabby hands. Anyway, Percy eventually decided to attack his father’s hat ‘n the cap kept passing between them!

My ovaries were hurting at the sight! I almost broke my promise, I swear, just to keep that sight!

It was funny seeing Tommy ordering people ‘round with a baby in his arms. One I got to see all to myself! God, if this is a dream— I don’t want to wake up. By the way, this took place in the course of three months. When it was May, it was a lot of rehearsals and making sure everything was as planned. Yeah, another “event” that took place during May was another announcement made by the newly engaged couple.

Linda and Arthur announced that they would be having the wedding this year and two months after Tommy and I’s engagement party. Honestly, Tommy and I were miffed, but not as much as last time. I think if they tried to have it anywhere near the same time we chose, then it was going to be a real problem. Do I even have to mention that Polly was annoyed? No, right? Because that has to practically be a given by now!

May came ‘n went till finally, it was the big day!

June 16th of 1923 was a momentous day for the Shelby Estate. The lady of the house spent the whole morning being pampered by her maids. The madam was given a massage, a facial, a good scrubbing, a manicure, and a pedicure. Everybody in the house knows that the madam took special care of her body just for this one day.

Aliena Welsh exercised her arse off to fit into her new dress that was designed to be one size smaller than what she previously was. Every woman in the house was holding their breath, begging to all that’s holy that she fit ‘cause if she didn’t, then God only knows what will happen! They’ve yet to see their mistress freak out, and they were hoping today wouldn’t be the day. It would be pitiful.

She even got her hair done again since the roots had grown. Anyway, after the spa morning— they got into the real nitty-gritty of this operation! The Shelby maids have till 6 o'clock this evening to make their madam look the most beautiful belle of the ball.

Aliena’s hair was covered in pins seeing as she was going for finger waves. However, she had too much thick hair. That meant that while the top of her head was covered in pins, the lower half was to be curled. Though Anne wanted to be the one to take care of her mistress, she was given the task to oversee the young master. Perseus Shelby would attend the party for a good hour or two before being whisked away by his most trusted maid/nanny, Anne.

Speaking of the boys, Tommy took his son to visit the stables. He brought him real close and personal to the beasts he so openly adored. Percy loved them, especially their soft coats. Tom couldn’t describe how proud he felt that his son managed a smile. He wouldn’t know what he’d had done if he began to cry. Perhaps, Tommy would have just tried another time when the lad was a bit older. Seeing as babies are often frightened at loud noises and tall beings.

When they were done with the horses, Tommy and Percy took a bath together at Aliena’s request. She said it’d be a bonding experience for them to have. Tom didn’t think it appropriate at first, seeing as he’d never heard of it being done before; however, he grew rather fond of it when he actually tried it. It was a pure moment that Tom would remember for the rest of his life. Afterward, Tom handed off his little one to Anne.

It wouldn’t take long for the men to get ready, but it was best to prepare beforehand. After all, they had to be at the hotel earlier to ensure everything was perfect.

Tommy Shelby recently received a fresh cut, so his hair took up no time. He shaved, added aftershave, then wiped off the excess. Tommy took his time putting on his suit, which he had to do within the confines of his bathroom, seeing as his fiancée was hoarding their bedroom. After smoothing everything out ‘n tugging on his suit jack and cuffs, Tommy walked confidently into the room and chose his watch as well as his accessories.

Tom decided to wear the ring and earring Aliena had gifted him. How could he not after finding out she was doing the same? She planned to wear the same earring and the butterfly ‘n teardrop earrings. There was something oddly possessive about Ali wearing the jewelry Tommy bought for her. He knew she would be hard to resist come the time she adorns them.

Tom kissed her cheek as he walked by; the women were still fussing over her hair. His fiancée was in nothing but her white, lace undergarments and robe. God have mercy on his soul! After annoying them, he walked into the nursery, where it would seem Percy was having a grand ole time.

Tom had instructed Anne earlier that it would be best to put Percy in something light after his bath. Aliena had picked out Percy’s outfit, and Tommy was not going to run the risk of being the reason why his son managed to ruin it. So, his boy was romping around on the rug-covered floor with Anne. He and Anne were playing with the blocks Tommy had got him.

Tom sniffed loudly before hiking up his pants as he crouched down. “Is all right, Anne. I’ll take care of him now. Go ‘n help Aliena finish getting ready.” The man shuffled closer to his son before sitting down next to him. Anne rose to her feet gracefully and bowed before leaving Tom to his child.

When Anne returned to the bedroom, the maids were still fretting over Aliena’s hair. The older woman clapped her hands, and the room fell silent. “Okay, everyone,” She began, “let’s all calm down and tell me what’s going on.” Multiple women talked over each other, trying to inform Anne of their dilemma, but ultimately it came from the Madam herself.

Ali sighed as her right elbow rested on her vanity mirror. She looked pretty exasperated. “It seems they are worried about whether or not my curls will hold. My hair is too thick; they said ‘n fear they should’ve started earlier.”

Anne tutted as she waved off the other maids from her mistress’s hair. “Poppycock! Let’s see what we can do, huh!” Anne worked her magic as she added in styling products ‘n knowledge she wouldn’t divulge to any of her other coworkers. Perhaps she would tell Aliena all her secrets if she asked.

Though Anne solved the hair issue— they’ve yet to start on Aliena’s makeup. Only when she looked into the mirror Ali’s face was finished. The young woman glanced at Anne via the mirror and continued to apply mascara. Ali couldn’t help but chuckle at the older woman’s surprised eyes. Ali muttered, “I got it, Anne. Can you tell me what time it is?”

Anne cleared her throat silently before looking around the room. Another maid noticed this and said, “‘S 2:25.” Anne nodded, turned back to face Ali, and repeated the time.

Aliena sighed as she looked over her face. She applied her usual base but went with thick winged eyeliner, mascara, brown eyeshadow, white inner corner, blush, and a bold red lip. Aliena smiled at herself before turning toward her staff. “Anne, can you get Percy ready or tell Tommy to get him dressed?” Turning toward the rest of them, she said. “I’ll be putting on my dress; then we’ll take my hair down.”

Everybody took their places. Anne briskly walked back into the nursery, where the master and young master were taking a nap. Her heart soared at the sight, but she had an emotionless facial expression plastered on. Anne stood at the doorway with her hands at her stomach. “Mr. Shelby.” She began. Tom’s eyes flew open as if he were never awake.

“What is it, Anne?” He asked without missing a beat.

“The Madam would like Percy to be changed now. Shall I do it, or shall I leave it to you, sir?” Her gaze fell upon the sleeping five-month-old and found her heartbreaking at the thought of waking ‘em up.

Tom looked down at his son’s sleeping face. He was absolutely adorable with his drool ‘n all. Tom shook his head. “I can do it, Anne. Go ‘n help, Aliena, as I’ve told ya.” Tom slowly rose to his feet and gently tossed Percy higher in his arms just as Anne bowed before leaving the room.

There was no easy way to wake your child, but Tom was determined. See if Tom tried and let Percy sleep, then he’s the arsehole when the baby wakes up while he’s being changed. Tommy began rocking Percy ‘n softly, calling his name in the little one’s ear. Percy whimpered but slowly opened up his eyes.

Tommy cooed at the boy, trying to stop Percy from bawling his eyes out, but there was no stopping the floodgate. “Aw, I’m sorry, son. Daddy’s sorry, darling. Daddy’s so sorry.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation he was in. Tommy never thought he’d have this. He felt he didn’t deserve it. “How about you help me get you all dressed up, and then you can go back to sleep, eh? Do a deal with Dad?”

Though Percy was too young to comprehend his father’s words, the bouncing ‘n his daddy’s voice soothed him to the point where his cries settled into whimpers again. The clothes had been lying on the changing table since Percy’s got out of the shower, so all Tom had to do was lay him on it.

It wasn’t often that Tommy had to change a dirty nappy, but when he could, he did. In all honesty, Aliena and Tommy left the dirty nappies to their maids whenever they could. That’s what they’re there for. But Tommy began changing his baby boy into a clean one. He put the dirty nappy in the laundry bin, wiped all of Percy’s private areas clean, and added some baby powder. Tommy made sure to rub the power into his son’s chubby leg rolls as Aliena instructed before finally slipping on the boy’s clean nappy.

Also, under his wife-to-be’s instructions, Tommy tried being as comical as possible. Tom made various faces ‘n talked in an exaggerated tone, but it was worth the smiles his boy gave him. Percy’s outfit includes a blue-collar white shirt with black trousers. There was an undershirt the baby was to wear as well. The only thing Tom was unsure about was whether or not she wanted him to tuck in Percy’s shirt. Tom voted tucked in, so tucked it was!

When Tom was done, he picked up his baby boy in his arms. He cleared his throat loudly as he hauled Percy up before reaching into his pocket and grabbing his watch. They were cutting it close for time. Tom sniffed before walking back into his bedroom.

Aliena was nearly done as she held out her arms for two maids to slip on her white satin gloves. Once they had, Aliena tugged them at the elbows and again at every finger as she started to walk back to her vanity. However, she caught her boys standing at the nursery’s doorway.

Simultaneously, Tommy was looking at his fiancée in awe. She looked beyond beautiful in her white beaded and fringed gown. Her makeup was bold, something Tommy had never seen her in. It was more sophisticated than the natural look she usually adorned. Tommy swears he’s never seen Aliena’s hair so short, and while it went well with the look— he wouldn’t trade it for her long hair for anything.

His Ali was standing there, dressed more appropriately to the times, but her personality still shined through. As always, Tommy was correct; the dress was designed to have a plunging sweetheart neckline which wasn’t common till about the 1940s. Her bejeweled headband was white and had a floral pattern. The length of her dress covered Aliena’s shoes, but they were white heels. The heels were no more than four inches, as were favored by the times.

Tommy smiled— genuinely smiled as he said, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Aliena’s blush intensified, and she couldn’t help but act silly. She struck a pose before waving him off. They met each other halfway and shared several kisses. “You look rather handsome yourself,” Aliena replied as she stared deep into those familiar baby blues. Speaking of baby, Ali dropped her gaze to Percy, and she squealed. “Who is the most cutest baby boy around? Huh! Give me my baby!”

Ali reached for Percy ‘n Tommy helped her carry him. Ali limited her range to his temple to save Percy from having very apparent red kisses on his face. “You are just so cute!” She gushed while swaying him back and forth. The boy laughed in his mother’s arms.

“Love, we ‘ave to be leaving soon.” Tommy felt guilty cutting short such a sweet moment, but they had to be going seeing as they had a two-hour drive ahead of themselves.

Aliena groaned before parting from Percy, who remained all smiles. She exhaled sharply before holding Percy out for Tom to take. “All right, then! Let me take a look of myself in the mirror, and then we’ll be off.” However, she didn’t stop there. “Anne, go ‘n make sure we ‘ave everything ready for Percy. His nappies, bottles, change of clothes if necessary— everything! Marie, dear, fetch Mr. Shelby’s and I’s coats. The white one for me and—”

“Marie, I won’t be needing my coat,” Tommy cut in.

Ali’s gaze remained on herself, but she asked. “Oh? Why?” Before the man could respond, the Madam stood up straight ‘n dusted off her hands as she continued. “Nevermind his coat then. Just find a white scarf for ‘em, just in case. That alright, darling?”

“Yes, that’s all right.” Tom nodded, his eyes locking with Ali’s as she walked past him toward the bathroom. Tom looked around the room and noticed hardly anyone but Anne had moved. However, one glance from ‘em and they were scattering outta the room like rats.

Tom bounced Percy in his arms, noticing the boy was trying to get his small grubby hands on his bowtie. “Oh no, love, that’s Daddy’s. Aliena, will you be long, or shall I go ‘n get the car ready?”

“Go ‘n get the car ready, hun!” She shouted over the toilet flush. Tommy didn’t hesitate to walk out of the room with their son in his arms as he made his way throughout their mansion. Meanwhile, Aliena was upstairs drying her hands then rushing to put back on her gloves.

As she made her way out of the bedroom, Aliena caught Anne leaving the nursery. Aliena asked her, “Didja get Percy’s coat and hat as well, Anne?”

Anne nodded, her hands full with a suitcase and basket. “Of course, Ma’am. I’ve got it all in here.”

“Thank God! I swear, Anne, I’ve never been so nervous in my fucking life!”

Anne chuckled behind Ali. “Oh, you’re going to be just fine, Aliena. Relax and let your hard work pay off.”

Ali giggled as she waved off Anne’s words. “I know you’re right, but I can’t get that stupid pit out of my stomach. Oh well, not like I can back out now, can I?” Aliena laughed again as she hopped off the last step of the stairs.

Under her breath, Anne muttered. “No, you can not.”

Aliena was out the door and in the door in no time. “Is everyone out of the house? Who’s gonna lock up?”

Tom replied, “Yeah, everyone’s outta the house. I’ll have some men guarding while we’re gone, but gone ahead and told one of them to lock up once we leave.”

Ali nodded. “Good. Well, I’m ready. You have my coat, right?”

“Right here.”

“Good.”

“Leo, drive.”

“Yes, Mr. Shelby, sir!”

The party was going off without a hitch. Anyone who received an invitation accepted and elected to go. This included all the “outsiders,” Johnny Dogs, the Lees, and Isaiah ‘n Jeremiah. It made for quite a big event! One where Tommy never left his lovely fiancée's side.

Well, at least he didn’t leave her side till night fell.

But before we talk about the night, let’s start at the beginning. First of all, before the rest of the Shelby's arrived— Aliena was running around making sure everything was perfect with Tommy not too far behind. People didn’t start showing up till an hour later, and the first was Cassie and Dougie. Cassie lived at the Ritz, so it was hardly a journey. She arrived on the dot and practically kidnapped Percy from his father.

Next to arrive were Polly and Michael, who sucked at hiding his true feelings. Everyone could tell that the lad was more or less sad at the union, and I mean everyone! After was John and Esme, along with their horde of children. The pattern of arrival began switching from Shelby to Aliena’s mates.

A potential business connection would surprise the couple with their early arrival here and there, but they kept their calm appearances. Johnny Dogs and the Lees were tricked in their invitations. Aliena wrote them that the event took place two hours earlier than it was as a way to get them to arrive on time.

Dougie’s, Angie’s, Tina’s, and Horace’s parents arrived later than the rest. Dom came not long after the party began, and Aliena’s reaction to the man’s arrival threw Tommy off. If she had told him that Dominic Johnson was her father, he’d have to believe her ‘cause of her reaction! The girl practically jumped into his arms!

Tommy’s interactions with said parents were strained since many were classists at heart, but he managed to charm Dougie’s and Tina’s parents. Dougie’s father worked in a trade like Tom’s, so they bonded in that. However, with Tina’s father— well, the man was just weak. He was easy to befriend, charm, and manipulate. Tina’s mother was no better, and Tom realized where Tina got her timid nature from. Aliena came to the same realization.

Angie and Horace’s parents were so far up their own arses that they didn’t realize they were rude to the literal couple they were supposed to be congratulating. Aliena and Tom handled it like champs, though! They kept their smiles and took turns putting the older couples on their arses. Witty banter ‘n all that jazz!

Tom and Dom had a weird talk. Again, the older gentlemen came across as Ali’s father figure. Something he had never been expecting, seeing as the girl’s birth father is dead. Tom didn’t stand down and took Dom’s challenge head-on. He took the insults, the suspicions, and thinly disguised threats. Tom only hoped to God that he’d only have to suffer through it this one day.

Once everyone arrived within the allotted hour they were granted, Tommy and Aliena urged everyone to find a table as dinner began. Tommy and Aliena sat at the most oversized table surrounded by their families. The room was filled with chatter, smiles, and grimaces. The only saving grace was the food. Of course, they served sophisticated courses at the Ritz-Carlton!

Both sides of the family decided it appropriate to share stories about the celebrated couple. Something the two felt conflicted about. They were fine when the accounts were sweet and harmless but felt the sweat comin’ on when specific information was divulged. Shins were kicked often during dinner, as were subtle glares.

After dinner, the guests were allowed to move around all three rooms that Aliena booked for the evening. Percy stayed with them for at least another hour before he was sent to Cassie’s room to rest with Anne. Meanwhile, the party was roaring strong downstairs.

Tommy left Ali’s side in favor of talking business to those extra guests while Aliena spoke to anyone who came to her. It seemed to go reasonably well, and Tom made new contacts. However, throughout the night, two obstacles become clear to him—the gossip of his unfamiliar guests as well as the interference done by Aliena’s mates.

Just as they feared, loud-spoken people drawled on and on about how shameless the two were. They ragged on about their age gap, social standing, and Tom’s “obvious” shortcomings. They were both leeches, according to some of their guests. Aliena and Tom paid no mind to these loud whispers, and if someone dared to voice their concerns to their faces— they dealt with that as well.

“We are two consenting adults, who fell in love,” Aliena replied with a tranquil tone ‘n smile. “Did you feel the same when you married your husband, Mrs. Roberts? I’m sure despite the arrangement, it was still a happy union made, right?”

“Yes, I am indeed quite a bit older than my soon-to-be wife; however, you’ll find that we are both quite happy. She’s one of the great joys of my life, along with my son. But thank you for your concern. We’re going to be just fine.” Tommy would eloquently state.

“Yes, Tommy was born in Small Heath, Birmingham. He’s come a long way since then using his intelligence and drive. I’m proud to say I’ll be wedded to a man who not only fought for his country but fought for his ambitions in life. It built the foundation of his company and all we are thankful for. Not all men can say they earned what they own like my fiancé can.” Aliena said sweetly before sipping her champagne.

That was all one thing, but then there was the second. It was not only the mates Tommy was familiar with, no. There were people coming up to him— many of whom were men, telling him all about his Ali and how lucky he was to have her.

Tom was having a conversation with Douglas, who’s had a few since dinner. The man was 27 years old and fought in the war same as Tom. For that, Douglas had Tom’s respect, but he wouldn’t go as far as to call ‘em a friend.

Douglas cleared his throat before taking a pull of his cigarette. “Say, Thomas, do you know Aliena’s favorite colour?”

Undisturbed, Tom replied. “It’s teal.”

Douglass hummed. “Do you know what her favorite alcoholic beverage is?”

Tom blinked before replying, “Ah, I think it was a gin ‘n tonic. It’s been almost a year since she’s had a drink.”

“Yeah, it has, hasn’t it? God, you should’ve seen her, Tom! She was the absolute life of the party! Ali’s gone drink for drink with me before, has she told you?”

Tom looked down at his whiskey before shaking his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

Douglas hummed again, taking another pull. “You know, Thomas, I didn’t say this last time ‘cause it was our first time meeting ‘n all plus you scare the shit out of me. But, I love Ali like a younger sister, and that’s saying something ‘cause I have older sisters. So, I’ll just get this over with.”

“That would be nice.” Tom quipped.

“If you hurt her, I’ll hurt you, and despite us being on good terms now— don’t doubt my ability nor any of our abilities to make your life a living hell.”

* * *

“Oh, I’m a friend of Aliena’s. We met during her time in London. She’s a strong woman,” said an American man.

“I’m a friend of Aliena’s. We met at a party. She’s one of a kind, isn’t she! You’re one lucky man. A woman like her will walk with you through the fires of hell,” said another man.

“Oh, I was invited. Yeah, I met Aliena through a mutual mate. She was a real party girl when we met! Had all the lads lookin’ at her when she walked into a room, especially when she danced! And Christ, that girl knows how to dance.” The raven-haired woman looked Tom up and down before smiling. “I’m glad to see that she settle down. She kind of worried me from time to time. Hopefully, you ‘n her will live a long life together, eh!”

There were at least eight more interactions like that. It became so ridiculous that Tommy eventually felt annoyed. He was annoyed and confused. It had Tom so dazed that he naturally drifted back to Aliena, who wasn’t expecting him back that soon. He took her into his arms, hugging her from behind. Aliena welcomed the surprise and acknowledged him with a kiss before turning back to her conversation.

Tommy stood behind her like a pillar as he worked on compartmentalizing his feelings. Storing it away to be dealt with another day. He never questioned their relationship before, and he wasn't now. However, Tom was barely coming to terms that she had a life outside of the family. He knew the girl could befriend the damndest of people, but that was a lot.

The party ended around two in the morning. Everyone stumbled out of the hotel in droves. Tom drove his little family back home and delighted in the sight of his lover holding his child. Aliena tried to fight it, but she was yawning every five seconds. Tom's sure that she would've been passed out if it wasn't for the babe in her arms.

Percy was everything to them. They'd murder, maim, frame anyone for him. It's just instinct to a parent. Or at least, it should be. When they arrived home, it was four in the morning. They'd be sleeping all day if their little one allowed it.

Only as Tom watched Ali put down their sleeping son from the doorway connecting their rooms, he wasn’t feeling tired anymore. They ended the day making slow, sweet love.

Tom’s had a lot to deal with during these past two months. He was getting hit from both business and familial prospects of his life. Arthur asked him to be the best man at his wedding while Churchill put him through the wringer. The man wouldn’t tell him what he was needed for, not yet anyhow! Churchill was sending him on wild goose chases— tests! Testing Tom’s ability to see if he could handle whatever big mission he had in store for him.

The only thing that kept him going was his wife and son. Arthur was a pain in the arse because he became an awkward man after his “conversion.” His older brother was in this limbo between redeemed man and the dog he’d once been. The dog had been leashed, and ownership was taken— stolen. Linda swiped the leash from Tommy’s hand, and he knew there was no way he’d get that leash back fully. He could borrow Arthur but had to give him back by the end of the day.

That being said, the dog knew who his original owner was and remained submissive. As long as Arthur remained in his place, everything else didn’t matter.

The wedding would take place on the 15th of August as chosen by the happy couple. It was laughable how insecure and jealous Linda was of Tom’s family. Perhaps it wasn’t that; maybe she just wanted to secure her position as Arthur’s legal spouse. That woman wanted her claws so far into his brother that no one would question if there were ever there. Again, Tommy didn’t care as long as they both stayed in their place.

So, Tom accepted the position. He was honored and glad he could help his older brother in such a monumental moment in his life. Lord knows that Arthur would need the help if he wanted to be included in his own wedding at all. Otherwise, it’d be a one-woman show.

Rather fondly, Tom remembers the conversation he and Ali had as they made their way back to ‘de ‘ouse. They both complained about the couple. How Linda acted the entire time they’d known her, and how subservient Arthur had become. It was laughable, so they did. That’s when Tom knew that he didn’t like it when they stepped out of line either.

Tom was King, and since Aliena’s the mother of his child ‘n fiancée, she’s to be Queen. The sharks were sniffing for blood. The storm was brewing: Blah-blah and all that good jazz. Point was money was being made; the situation allowed for positions to rise. His family wasn’t idiotic; they were just slower on the uptake. Some desperately wanted a new King to ascend, but Tommy was never letting go. Not until he was good and ready, and since he’s barely received his crown— it wasn’t going to be any time soon.

Plus, Tom wasn’t so sure that he ever wanted to stop. Talking to Ali changed a lot of things. She made it his decision— it would be all on him whichever path he chose. If he tried to go straight and ended up soft, it might bite him on the arse later in life when the wolves come to the door. On the other hand, continuing on this path means he might accumulate more enemies over time, putting his family’s lives in even more danger. Either way, he’s fucked!

Tommy kept telling himself that he didn’t have to choose now and that he could put it off; however, deep down, he knew he had already made his choice. He just hopes Percy can forgive him. Hopes that all his children will understand his decisions.

Tom kept his head down as he walked into the building of Churchill’s office. Upon his first encounter with the man, he was instructed that he was to meet him at 12:30, always. Their meetings would, hopefully, only take 30 minutes to avoid being seen by Churchill’s secretary. Tom beelined it from the man’s office and knocked before he entered.

The older man was diligently sitting at his desk ‘n didn’t even lift his head as he acknowledged Tom. “Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby. Have a seat, and let us discuss business.”

Tom closed the door behind him before sitting down in the chair Churchill suggested. He fished into his pocket for his cigarette case. True to his word, Tom didn't smoke around his baby, but he smoked a helluva lot outside.

"So, I've read the report. You've impressed me with the results once again, Mr. Shelby," said Churchill as he shifted through a manilla folder.

Tom exhaled before leaning back. He didn't care to respond, seeing as no reply would benefit the conversation.

"Yes, well, I suppose killing a man becomes easier the more times you do it. After all, we had plenty of practice in the war."

Again, Tom said nothing to the comment. He only scoffed softly before taking another drag.

"Mr. Shelby, I've decided that you are now ready to receive the full details on what these whole tedious meetings have been for." Churchill reached down into his drawer and tossed a bulky manila folder toward Tom. "It would seem that we've recently come into business with Russia."

Jesus fucking Christ! Russia! What the ‘ell was the government getting involved with Russia for? How the hell was Tommy gonna benefit from this situation? And how far would this take his family up the food chain?

Churchill gave him a summary of the background of the mission before getting to his objective.

Churchill cleared his throat. "So it's finally out in the open. You can't tell a soul, and if you do, no one would believe you, and the government would hang you for treason. If anyone from your family should spread this information— because you will eventually tell them, they will reach the same fate. No matter the gender or age. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Shelby?"

Without hesitation, Tommy replied. "Yes, I understand." He wasn't threatened in the least. Well, he felt the weight of the threat, but Tom would never let it show. He couldn't deny the sharp pain in his heart when the man in front of him practically threatened not only his family but his future wife as well. He couldn't stop the image of her swinging past his mind no sooner than he'd like.

"Good. Now, enough with that. I'd like to meet with you at least one more time before we get into things, seeing as these meetings must be kept brief and all. It's been brought to my attention that someone is beginning to notice these secret meetings between you and me. As far as I know, they haven't discovered your identity, but nonetheless, the venue of where we meet will have to change. You see, there is a charity party being hosted in New York next month; I am working on getting you an invitation. Very exclusive this charity, but still, who could question your right to be there as a businessman and the social standing your fiancée has. I'm sure convincing your lovely fiancée will be easy for you, but make it happen."

"I don't want my fiancée anywhere near this business," replied Tommy as he flicked off the ash at the end of his cigarette.

Churchill sighed before stating, “Unfortunately, Mr. Shelby, that was not a suggestion. It was an order. Having Ms. Welsh there will provide sufficient cover for you. Otherwise, your appearance at an elite social level event will draw in wandering eyes.”

Thomas Shelby was a secure man who loved his fiancée with all his “cold heart.” Aliena’s time by herself proved to be fruitful since she made connections to influential people in a social class higher than theirs.

Thomas wasn’t used to the help or at least the help from someone he didn’t manipulate into helping him. Did it hurt his pride? A little, but he’d never admit it to anyone.

The point is that Tom always thought of Aliena’s higher social status as an advantage, but at that moment, he’d wished her friends had hidden her away like a dirty secret. Tom said nothing in reply to Churchill’s statement and took another drag instead.

The older man did the same to his cigar before asking, “Do we have an understanding, Mr. Shelby?”

Tom cleared his throat. “Yes, we have an understanding.”

“Good. I will send you the invitations for you and your fiancée as soon as possible. Dismissed, Mr. Shelby.”

Without reply, Tommy stubbed out his cigarette and left. Inside he was irritated. He desperately wanted to keep Ali away from this business, but there was no way out of this. He knew that if he gave it to her straight, she’d understand, but there was just something in the back of his head preventing him from talking.

Tom knew his lovely little wife was capable of bloodshed ‘n violence. She’d killed a man, and he had a front-row ticket to the bloody assault of a woman who messed with her best mate. However, the information just wasn’t sticking to his brain. He saw his quirky, crybaby Aliena.

He was the brooding grump who could make people tremble from a single look while she drew people in. After you got over your initial impression of her. As Aliena states, “She has a resting bitch face that makes people think she’s mad all the time.” Aliena was a short glass of giggles, smiles, twitches, and ramblings. Like the residents of Birmingham said, she was the Light of the Peaky Blinders.

There was something in him that wanted to keep that statement alive for as long as they lived. Tom didn’t want to wake up one day and hear people calling her the she-devil to his devilish status.

Tom made it back to the office around two or three in the afternoon. He spent much of his time catching up on work that the meetings with Churchill usually took. Tom didn’t eat lunch ‘n he didn’t stop working for anything— only to pour himself another drink.

On an average day, he’d sit in that chair till around ten at night or something like that. However, today would be one of those special days when he’d surprise his small family by coming home early. He left the office around six and arrived home at seven.

Tom had his last whiskey and smoke at the office ‘n now that he was home— he’d refrain from all his vices. Anne greeted him at the door and quickly helped him out of his coat. He handed her his cap as well before shouting, “Sweetheart, I’m ‘ome!”

He heard her pounding footsteps before he actually laid eyes on her. Aliena had a black headband on with a few framing hairs curling around the sides of her face. She had on a black silk slip and a gold dressing gown accented with various coloured flowers. As for shoes, she had on some black house slippers.

She was absolutely breathtaking.

Before he could greet her with his semi-usual embrace and kiss, she took his hands in hers as she shouted with a grin on her face, “Tommy, you have to see this! C’mon, c’mon!”

Her infectious happiness had a habit of rubbing off on him, so he tried his best to stifle the smile that threatened to stretch across his face. “All right, love, I’m right behind ya.”

She dragged him into the parlous-slash-family room, where his son was sitting down on a blanket as he played with his toy horse. “Sit,” Aliena commanded as she pushed Tom down onto the sofa. She gave him one last ecstatic smile before turning around and getting down on her knees. Tom patiently waited to see what she had in store for him and wondered how it involved their baby.

Aliena scootched closer to Percy before holding her arms out and saying, “Percy, my love, come to Mummy. Come to Mama, baby.” Tom’s heart skipped a beat, and he sat on the edge of his seat. Their son didn’t give Aliena any mind at first, but when he realized his Mama was calling for ‘em— he didn’t hesitate to throw his horse away.

Ali continued to call for Percy, and not a second after throwing away his toy, did their boy fall onto his hands ‘n knees and made his way toward her. Tom felt an indescribable amount of love and happiness that made him almost feel like he wasn’t in his body. Like this wasn’t his life, a life that he didn’t deserve to have due to all of his many sins. But here he was, with the loves of his life.

Percy crawled to Ali’s knees and was beginning to push himself up when Ali scooped him up. She pressed a bunch of kisses against his cheek and cheered him on for doing so well. Her gaze fell to his, and she smiled at him. “He just started today. We were working on it practically all day.”

Tom smiled without any reservations, but he didn’t know what to say. Aliena shifted her gaze from Percy, then back to him, then asked. “Do you want to see if he’ll crawl over to you?”

Surprisingly when he replied, “Yeah,” it came out soft and strained. Tom could feel all the beginnings of a good cry, but he didn’t want to deal with it. So, he tried calming down as much as he could.

Aliena kissed Percy’s cheek once more before placing him on the floor. “Go to Daddy, Percy. Go on. Crawl to Daddy.”

Tom bent down and reached out for ‘em as best he could. “Come to Papa, Percy.” Tom and Ali kept repeating themselves until Percy made his way over to Tom. Percy crawled up to Tom’s shoes and managed to curl his fingers around his Papa’s pant legs before being hauled up into his father’s arms. Tommy pressed a kiss to his son’s temples, then his cheek. He muttered against him, “Oh, my sweet boy. Eh, kiddo, you did it! Hmm!” Tom didn’t want to let him go, so he didn’t. The man was so enamored with his son that Tom didn’t want to hand Percy over even when Ali sat beside them.

“Soon, he’ll be saying his first words,” Aliena whispered as she stroked the side of Tom’s head. “Sometimes, I swear Percy calls for me. His babbles have been sounding more and more like ‘Ma-Ma-Ma’.”

Tommy pulled away from Percy and found himself staring into the same blue eyes he had. “He’s growing up so fast.” Tom stroked Percy’s face with his thumbs before pulling him back in with a kiss to the babe’s forehead. Percy was busy trying to take Tom’s tie.

Aliena hummed in agreement. “Yeah, he is.” She reached over and began stroking Percy’s tufts of hair, which was growing along nicely and had some waves to it. “So, how was your day?”

Tom kept his eyes on Percy but replied, “It was good. Had a meeting that ended early, so I was able to finish all I had to do today. ‘S how I was able to get home so early. What about your day?”

“Well, other than working on his crawling, I worked on introducing him to solid foods. He ate some cut-up pieces of fruits and veggies, but I don’t feel comfortable giving him meat yet.”

“How is he doing on his teething, love?”

Aliena audibly winced, which drew Tom’s attention. She began rubbing her breast as she said. “It’s still there if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve tried getting him to teethe as much as he could on anything other than my nipples, but something tells me that as long as he’s teething and I’m breastfeeding— I’ll just ‘ave to suck it up.” Ali chuckled humorlessly before shaking her head. “God, I hope it ends sooner rather than later.”

“I do too, for your sake.”

“Thank you.” They both looked back at their babe, who had snuggled closer to his daddy. Percy’s face was hidden in Tom’s neck, and his eyes were fluttering. Aliena sighed softly. “Aw, we outta take this little one to bed. C’mon, love.”

Aliena rose to her feet first and waited for Tom to stand with their son in his arms slowly. Then, they made their way upstairs to the boy’s nursery. Tom and Ali parted from Percy with kisses, laid the babe down to sleep, and then shuffled into their room.

Aliena sighed loudly before launching herself backward onto their bed. Tom smiled at the sight. She propped herself up by her elbows and stared directly at him. “I forgot to ask you downstairs, but were you hungry? I can ask Anne to whip you up something.”

Tom shook his head. “No, that’s all right. I-uh, actually have something I want to ask you.” Tommy sniffled loudly before walking over to Ali’s vanity bench. He hitched up his pant legs before sitting down.

Aliena scooted closer to the edge of the bed and let out a deep breath. “Uh oh,” she muttered just as Tom took her hands in hers. Not a second later did she let out a bout of nervous giggles and snap her fingers a few times.

Something Aliena did from time to time when she was anxious.

Tom shook his head. “Nothing like that, sweetheart.” It took him a couple of seconds to come up with a good lie. “That meeting I had today isn’t exactly a done deal. He’s a powerful man and harder to…persuade than most. He invited me to a charity in New York, and I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me?”

Aliena’s eyes widened, and she drew a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Tommy! New York!”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“What about the baby, Tommy? We-We can’t just leave him.” Aliena looked away with a hand pressed against her cheek.

“We can talk to Pol or Cassie about taking him while we take the trip.”

“How long is it gonna be?” She asked with furrowed brows.

Tom wracked his brain for a minute. The last time he seriously thought about making a trip to New York was when he was caught up with Grace, but he hadn’t gone that far into planning. “I believe it will take about a week or two to get there.”

Ali’s hand slapped over her mouth. “To get there, Tommy! But—!”

“Ali, love, think about it. We’ll have time together. Just the two of us. It’ll be like our honeymoon ‘cause you know, we’re not gonna be able to have one after the wedding.”

Aliena’s hand finally dropped back down, and Tommy didn’t hesitate to rub that one like he had been the other. She looked around the room, thoughtfully, before meeting his gaze. “That’s true…”

“So, what do you say? We’ll have about a month to ourselves. It’s gonna be you, me, and the sea. Then, we’ll take over New York.”

Aliena chuckled while shaking her head. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Shelby!” Tom waited for her answer. He could see her brain working. The worry in her expression, but he knew. Tom watched as her face softened. She nodded. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go to New York.”

Tommy was on top of her in a blink of an eye, and his lips muffled the squeal that wanted to escape her lips. “We’ll go to New York ‘n have us a grand ‘ole time. I’ll make love to you as many times as I like and hear those delicious moans of yours. Take you shopping, out to dinner— anything you want, love.”

Aliena ran her fingers through Tom’s hair and moaned softly, “Tommy.”

Tom pulled away from Aliena to take all of her in for a second. Safe to say, he fucked her all night long.

August 15th didn’t come soon enough. Lord knew Tom wanted to get the day over with ‘n just go home with his family. Not that he wasn’t happy for his brother— he just didn’t especially like Linda.

“Brother, I-I’m nervous. You don’t think she’d leave me at the alter, do ya?” Arthur asked Tom for the millionth time.

Tom shook his head as he cleared his throat. “No, Arthur, I don’t think Linda would leave you at the alter.”

Arthur fixed his stance, straightening up his back, then nodded. “Right, right! Just nerves is all.”

Tom didn’t respond. His gaze fell to Ali, who had Percy in her lap. She looked to be reading him the Hymn sheet. Tom couldn’t help but grin a little. Polly didn’t need one, but he knew his fiancée sure as shit needed it. The girl hadn’t stepped a foot in a church since Ada’s wedding, but before that, it was when she was baptized as a babe. Meanwhile, his mother had hauled him and his siblings to Sunday Mass for most of their childhood.

Tom had no plans of making Percy or any of his future children suffer through the same thing. He wasn’t religious, and it made it easier that Aliena wasn’t either. Eventually, the Bridal Chorus began playing, and everyone stiffened up as Linda started walking up the aisle.

Arthur and Linda were getting married in Birmingham’s nicest church, with the pews being side-by-side. Linda’s side was hardly filled, but some people were sitting in them. As far as Tommy knew, her mother was either dead or not in her life.

Think her mother was a whore, or at least a “sinful” woman in her daughter’s eyes. Linda’s father was definitely walking her down, but otherwise, there was nobody of importance on Linda’s side. A bunch of Quakers and churchgoers. The ceremony in itself was as plain as a wedding could be, and Tommy found himself inside of his head.

When the ceremony finished, everybody hurried outside. Tom didn’t hesitate to find his way back to Aliena, who was just as exasperated as he was, and Percy.

John rounded up all the immediate family as Finn corralled the women fighting for the bouquet away from the steps.

Tommy shouted, “All right, let’s take this photograph! Come on!” The photographer rushed to set himself up. Tom glanced over at Ali before saying, “Give me him, eh?”

Aliena said nothing in return but passed the man his son. She wrapped her hands around Tom’s biceps and smiled toward the camera. Tom managed a quick kiss to her temple before looking ahead.

John shouted, “Take the fucking photo!”

Blinding lights fucked with the lots visions a couple of times from the number of photos taken, and then it was time to get their cars ‘n drive to the reception. The drive to the place wasn’t long. The newlywed couple had decided to rent out a hotel just as Tom ‘n Ali did for their engagement party.

It wasn’t as extravagant as the Ritz, but it wasn’t a cheap place either. Tommy spent his time with Aliena and Percy. Mainly, Percy since his lovely fiancée as gossiping about the bride with his Aunt. Eventually, he gave Percy back to his mother ‘n went looking for his brothers. He had a drink with John and Arthur, but only one with Arthur since the man turned over a new leaf.

Arthur was swearing off everything— booze, drugs, fighting, and other women, which Tom was all the happy for ‘em, as long as the man didn’t become a thorn in his side. Didn’t want his older brother growing soft.

So, after sharing that drink with his brothers— it was time for dinner. After dinner would be Tommy’s speech. He went over it with Arthur beforehand and more with Ali. It was short and sweet. Arthur and Linda were together for such a short amount of time that he couldn’t put a lot of thought into it. So, short ‘n simple/sweet, it’ll have to be.

Dinner went well. Tom had a fun time trying to see which foods Percy would eat. Ali wouldn’t stop smacking him for “teasing” ‘em, but Tommy didn’t mind. To be fair, he was being a bit of an arsehole on purpose, making Percy reach for some things and wait for others. A part of him hoped to push his son over the edge so that he and his family would have to make a break for it. The victim himself foiled his plans. Percy was a naturally calm child, so even if he would be whining one second the next, he’d already be relaxed.

Once dinner was over, Tom put on his big boy pants, swallowed his ‘tsk,’ and rose from his seat. It was time to give the half-heartfelt speech. “Hello, everyone. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of my eldest brother, Arthur, and his lovely new wife, Linda. Linda’s been an overwhelmingly good influence for my brother from the moment these two got together. He was in a dark place for a long time, but she made it better. Changed him for the better. Arthur has waited a long time to meet his match, and Lord knows he was impatient to find ‘er.”

Tom received chuckles from around the room, but he continued. “‘N now he’s found her.” He raised his glass, and the whole room followed suit. “To Arthur and Linda!” The room repeated his words. “And may their union be filled with happiness and long-lasting!” Everyone took a drink from their glasses and continued with their business.

Arthur and Linda thanked Tom for his words while others complimented him for his speech. Meanwhile, his little Ali had a hand over her mouth with her shoulders shaking.

“Have I said something funny, love?” Tom asked.

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and replied. “That was rather short, wasn’t it? You said like three lines at the most.”

Tom cleared his throat as his mouth twitched upward. “My mother used to say if you have nothing nice to say, then don’t say it at all.”

Aliena’s laughter grew an octave which caught Percy’s attention. He began mimicking his mother and laughed with her. The pair of them set their sights on the babe just as Tom reached over and began ticking Percy’s stomach— giving him something to laugh about. The babe’s giggles turned genuine, and Tommy couldn’t handle the cuteness. He took Percy from Aliena and began kissing his cheeks.

The day went into the night, and eventually, it was just immediate family. Before everyone was ready to say their goodbyes, Tom called a family meeting. Arthur looked hurt, but Tom tried to send him a reassuring look. It didn’t do much.

They all looked a little miffed at him if he was being honest. However, he also didn’t care. “Right, now that we’re all settled down, you all can stop with the glares. It’s not about business.” The stale air immediately lifted. “Aliena and I have an announcement to share. Just as Arthur and Linda will be taking a honeymoon, so will we. Aliena and I have planned to go to New York next month, and seeing as we’re going to the states— the trip will take a month. Fifteen days to get there and fifteen days to get back.”

“That’s a whole bloody month, Tommy!” John exclaimed.

Tom’s expression never changed. “Yes, like I said,” he repeated like he was talking to a child. “While I’m gone, Polly will be in charge, and I trust that you all hold down the fort. We’ll be leaving on the 24th, and we’ll be back around the 29th.”

Finn chimed in, “But you said it would take fifteen days each way.”

Aliena, who was closest to the boy, stroked his arm and replied. “He meant we’ll be leaving on the 24th of this month, and we’ll be back by the 29th of September, love.”

Finn went redder than a tomato but asked another question, nevertheless. “What about Percy? Are you taking him along, or…?”

Tom shook his head, his gaze falling on Ali. She immediately went crestfallen. “Percy’s gonna be with his godparents. You’re all welcome to check up on him from time to time, but he’s to remain in their care while we’re gone.”

Polly hmphed from beside him with her arms crossed. Ali giggled at the sight and walked over to the woman. She hugged Polly, who embraced her back. “You can take care of him too, Pol. I’m sure they’ll need your help.”

Polly hmphed again. “As if I’d let them hog, that beautiful boy from me!” Polly kissed Ali’s temple and shook her head. All eyes were then set back to Tommy.

The man looked over his family and nodded his head. “That’s all. Let’s say good night to the newlyweds and be on our way, eh.”

* “Oh my God! Fuck!”

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729 @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero @thatweirddaydreamer @xxbeckybeexx-blog @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @well-hydratedpvssy @the-jess-life @babaohhhriley @7shadesofharold @melissamaine @urbankaite2 @skinny-bitch-juice @abzidabzy

#in another world #iaw #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc

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chironshorseass · 3 years

Note

133 for percabeth please :)

Pre-TLO era. I can’t help myself :)) also this was inspired by @posallys post lol hiiii bestie this one’s for u ig <3

writing prompts

"I hope you have a cold shower."

He turned to her, surprised—if only for a few seconds. Then a smile spread across his face, once he caught on to her expression. "A cold shower, huh? You know I can change the temperature, right?"

There was something enchanting about Percy Jackson, she had to admit. Even if she loathed him.

She loathed him, but then again, she could appreciate the little things.

Like how he'd raised himself from the lake waters and into the pier as easily as flicking a wrist, brown skin flashing in the blinking light, muscles contracting. How he'd left a puddle by his feet like a following shadow, and how, despite getting wet in the first place, he was still able to take out the goddamned water from his ears while she was left struggling, tilting her head over and over like a cartoon glitch.

So again. She loathed him. Despised him, even.

"Yes, yes—yippee, you're a son of Poseidon," she said, with little to no enthusiasm. "Now stop staring at me or I will make you regret it."

"You just kinda look like you're having a hard time, is all."

"Wow"—She cocked her head again, this time with more force, and still the water won't fucking go away—"You noticed?"

"Hey, hey. Stop"

He placed his hands on her cheeks, freezing her mid head-tilt. Her entire body froze, more like, if she wanted to sound cliché. They’d been okay for the past week, she supposed, but there was still that question in the air, that doubt about whether he felt the same way about her as she did about him or if it was just her own bias. Her false hope.

“I can take the water out, you know,” he said softly, green eyes earnest and so so beautiful.

Annabeth wanted to cry. Yes, it was a simple request. Yes, it was only because Percy possessed the unfair ability of hidrokinesis. Of course it was only because of that. It was her fault that she had a tendency to read between the lines. Emotional. Stupid. She would feel his thumb dancing across her cheek, accompanied with that smile on his face, and suddenly her mind would mark him as a boy filled with love and life. With power coursing through his veins, ready to use it for her and only her. But one day, she thought. One day the life and love in him will leave.

She tried not to think of the prophecy. But it always came in the worst of times.

Quickly, though, she blinked those tears away. Swallowed back her pride. When she nodded, she made it seem as if she was reluctant, as if she were annoyed.

She wasn't.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Take it out. But only because I could have brain-eating amebas in there or something like that.”

“Or if you don’t properly take out the water stuck inside, you could just have a plain-old ear infection.”

“Yes. Or that. Not only I would have to experience a a war, but my ear would hurt for the rest of the summer.”

“Would definitely suck.”

“Although, I still think the brain-eating ameba is worse.”

He shook his head. “What the fuck, Annabeth. I thought we where over this—”

“And I’m still traumatized from what Grover said. Ninety nine percent of the people infected die—”

“Psh. Only if you get infected in the first place. I’m pretty sure you have to swallow or breathe in the water for the ameba to get you, anyway.”

“Oh, goodie,” she said dryly. “I did that plenty as well. All because of you.”

“Aw, come on, it was funny—”

She pushed him away, and he laughed; it was a booming sound—or maybe it was like a fire, igniting first on his belly only to shoot out from his throat, contagious and free.

“So,” he said, coming to her again. “You gonna let me help you or what?”

“Maybe.”

His smile grew. “Say please?”

Gods, he would be the end of her.

“...Please.”

Then he added, “And also take back the cold shower threat. That was super rude.”

“Oh, totally. So rude of me, I am so sorry.”

“That’s better.”

And her hearing cleared away—something she hadn’t realized was wrong in the first place—once he that stray water trickled down her ear, warm and obeying to Percy’s will. Maybe being a son of Poseidon had its unfair advantages, but at the very least, those advantages extended to her.

Too bad for the others, though.

#percabeth #pjo fic #annabeth chase #percabeth fic #percy jackson #look mom i can write #sorry the ending is shit btw #shhh xoxo

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phykios · 3 years

Text

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12).

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog.

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation.

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.”

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut.

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass.

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other.

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.”

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets.

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…”

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks.

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.”

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up.

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…”

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements.

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.”

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.”

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?”

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun.

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.”

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.”

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response.

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?”

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.”

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper.

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise.

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!”

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release.

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all.

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene.

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says.

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…”

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea.

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?”

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--”

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much.

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.”

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit.

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses.

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles.

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door.

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen.

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom.

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street.

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing.

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things.

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.”

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else?

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says.

“Who are you working with?”

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question.

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?”

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand.

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks.

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.”

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile.

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice.

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…”

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared.

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear.

Annabeth, behind him, coughs.

“S-sure. No problem.”

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him.

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend?

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice.

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far.

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?”

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps.

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly.

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…”

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?”

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock.

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before.

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his.

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could.

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.”

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan.

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today.

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor.

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit.

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision.

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…”

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.”

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him.

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together.

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together.

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all.

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time.

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him?

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode.

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust.

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner.

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks.

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops.

He squints at one of his doodles.

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar.

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books.

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response.

Percy approaches the table.

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra.

Percy picks up the book, squinting.

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself.

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares.

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look.

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?”

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness.

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch!

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth.

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?”

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance.

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes.

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?”

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes.

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask?

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.”

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says.

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.”

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.”

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head.

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21.

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music?

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth.

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly.

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill.

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it.

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…”

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake.

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window.

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos.

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.”

Jamie looks up.

There’s a four year old staring at her.

“Hi,” Jamie says.

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks.

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her.

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.”

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers.

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.”

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit.

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him.

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin.

She really should have just stuck with German instead.

#my fic #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #perseannabeth #darkmagyk #percy should be a classics major and here's why #the percy major for the stem hating author #also i feel like i have to say:#1) classics conferences are not like that #2) if only it were that easy to get the bm to return looted antiquities 🙄#pjo fic #percabeth fic #percy jackson

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