Jasonjaxkson

[jasonjaxkson]

Th𝑒 𝓐 ccident on the phon𝑒.

The grand doors of the de Nile penthouse slammed shut with a concussive boom that vibrated through the ancient urns in the foyer. Nefera ripped her golden shawl from her shoulders and flung it blindly onto a velvet chaise lounge. Her chest was still heaving, her perfectly manicured claws twitching with an agitation she couldn't suppress. The lingering, maddening warmth between her legs had only fueled a furious, chaotic energy that she desperately needed to purge.

She marched straight into the lavish sitting room, where Cleo was reclining on an excessive pile of silk pillows.

"I am utterly surrounded by imbeciles, Cleo! Utterly!" Nefera exploded, pacing the length of the room like a caged panther.

Cleo blinked, her eyes widening as she held up a golden iCoffin. "Nefera, wait, I’m actually—"

"No, you will listen to me!" Nefera snarled, completely cutting her sister off, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "I have never in my life encountered such unmitigated audacity! That pathetic, insufferable, bureaucratic zombie clerk actually had the nerve to look me in the eye and tell me my lineage doesn't alter her miserable spreadsheet columns! She stood there, adjusting those ridiculous cat-eye glasses, completely mocking everything we are!"

Cleo’s mouth dropped open. She desperately waved her free hand, pointing frantically at the glowing screen of her phone, but Nefera was far too deep into her volcanic tirade to notice.

"And then!" Nefera shouted, her face flushing a deep, furious gold as the memory washed over her. "Then, when I rightfully put her in her place, she had the absolute gall to call me a desperate phantom of the past! We were screaming, Cleo. Inches apart. I was so blinded by pure, unadulterated rage that before I could even process what I was doing, I grabbed her. I grabbed her by her stupid striped shirt and I kissed her!"

A sharp, collective gasp echoed in the room, but it didn't come from Cleo. Cleo looked like she had been struck by lightning, her arm freezing entirely in mid-air.

Nefera, completely blind to the world, pushed forward, her voice dropping into a breathless, frantic register. "And the worst part? It wasn't just a mistake. It was disgusting, frantic, and entirely un-royal, and we made out right against the student council desk! I had to pull myself away before I completely lost my mind. I threw her out, Cleo. I told her it never happened. But now I am standing here, my heart is hammering out of my ribs, and I am literally burning up because my body is reacting in ways I didn't even know it could to a *zombie*! I can still feel the damp heat between my legs, and I am utterly furious that I actually want her back in that room!"

Nefera finally stopped pacing. She took a deep, shuddering breath, smoothing down her tight bandages with trembling fingers, expecting her sister to offer some grand, comforting declaration of de Nile superiority.

Instead, the sitting room was dead silent.

Cleo slowly lowered the iCoffin from her ear, her face completely pale. She turned the phone around. The screen was glowing brightly, displaying a massive grid of active video-call participants.

Every single face on the screen was frozen in a state of absolute, unmitigated shock.

Deuce’s sunglasses were slipped halfway down his nose, his jaw practically hitting his skateboard. Draculaura’s hands were clamped over her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers. Clawdeen and Clawd were staring blankly, their fangs showing in sheer disbelief, while Frankie’s neck bolts sparked with a sudden, erratic jolt of electricity. Lagoona and Gil were leaned so close to their respective cameras that their noses blurred, their eyes darting between Cleo and the background where Nefera stood.

For three agonizing seconds, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

Then, Frankie’s voice cracked through the iCoffin speaker, loud and perfectly clear in the silent penthouse: *"Wait... Ghoulia?!"*

The voice from the tiny speaker broke the paralysis in the room like a crack of thunder.

Nefera stared at the glowing grid of faces on Cleo’s iCoffin, her royal composure entirely disintegrating. Her golden skin turned a pale, sickly shade of olive. The furious heat that had been pulsing through her body moments ago instantly froze into ice. For the first time in her life, the eldest de Nile daughter was completely speechless.

"Hang up," Nefera whispered, her voice dangerously low. "Cleo. Hang. It. Up."

Cleo’s thumb scrambled frantically across the glass screen, her manicured nails tapping wildly against the digital end-call button. "I'm trying! It's frozen! The signal is—"

*"Oh my ghoul, oh my ghoul, oh my ghoul!"* Draculaura’s voice erupted from the speaker, a high-pitched squeak of pure gossip adrenaline. *"Nefera and Ghoulia?! Like, actual making out?! On the student council desk?!"*

*"Yo, Deuce, tell me I didn't just hear that,"* Clawd barked, leaning so close to his phone that his furry brow filled the entire video frame. *"Did she say damp heat?!"*

*"Dude, I am literally blind right now, my snakes are tangling,"* Deuce stammered, frantically pushing his sunglasses back up his nose. *"Ghoulia? Our Ghoulia? The one who won't even talk unless it's a groan?"*

"Silence!" Nefera shrieked, finally finding her voice. She lunged across the silk pillows, snatching the iCoffin directly out of Cleo’s hands. She glared into the front-facing camera, her eyes blazing with an ancient, terrifying wrath. "If a single syllable of this utterly fabricated, delusional rant leaves this call, I will personally ensure that every single one of you is barred from every elite social circle from here to Scaris! Do you hear me?!"

*"Wait, but you just said—"* Frankie started, her neck bolts sparking again, but Nefera didn't let her finish. With a snarl of frustration, she threw the phone onto the marble floor and crushed it beneath the heavy golden heel of her shoe. The screen shattered into a web of dark glass, and the frantic voices of her sister’s friends were instantly cut short.

The sitting room fell into a heavy, suffocating quiet once more. Nefera stood over the ruined technology, her chest heaving, her hands shaking with a mixture of rage and profound humiliation.

Cleo slowly sat up from her pillows, staring at the pieces of her phone, then up at her older sister. "Nefera... you... you and Ghoulia? Really?"

"Not another word, Cleo," Nefera hissed, pointing a trembling claw at her sister. "Not. One. Word."

But the damage was already done. While Nefera had been screaming at the phone, she had completely forgotten about the modern conveniences of monster technology. Across the school district, in seven different bedrooms, the call had ended, but the group chats were already violently exploding with activity.

A mile away, in her quiet room, Ghoulia Yelps sat at her desk, trying desperately to re-calibrate her brain by organizing her comic book collection. Her lips still felt slightly numb, and her core still hummed with a confusing, lingering tension she couldn't compute.

Suddenly, her own iCoffin began to buzz on the desk. Then it buzzed again. And again. A relentless, rapid-fire succession of notifications began to flood her screen.

*Draculaura \[10:02 AM\]: GHOULIA!!! OMH ARE YOU OKAY?!*

*Clawdeen \[10:02 AM\]: Ghoulia answer your phone right now.*

*Frankie \[10:02 AM\]: We need to talk about the student council office. IMMEDIATELY.*

*Lagoona \[10:03 AM\]: Blue, holy smokes, did something happen with Nefera?!*

Ghoulia picked up the device, her analytical mind instantly switching into overdrive as she stared at the chaotic influx of messages. Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't told a soul. She hadn't even processed it herself. How could they possibly know?

Her thumb hovered over the screen, a rare expression of sheer panic washing over her usually stoic zombie face.

[jasonjaxkson]

Th𝑒 Princes𝓢 and Th𝑒 Br𝓐ins .

The heavy oak door of the student council office clicked shut, sealing out the ambient roar of the Monster High hallways. Inside, the air was thick with tension. Nefera de Nile stood by the window, her golden bandages catching the dim afternoon light, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Ghoulia Yelps sat at the desk, surrounded by towering stacks of parchment and glowing tablet screens.

"I have already told you, Ghoulia," Nefera sighed, her voice dripping with royal condescension. "The budget for the Fearleading squad is non-negotiable. My sister's little hobby requires the finest materials. Egyptian cotton banners do not buy themselves."

Ghoulia didn't look up immediately. She calmly typed a final sequence into her tablet, then set it down with a deliberate, sharp tap. She let out a low, groaning sigh, her shoulders rising and falling.

*“The budget allocations are based strictly on club enrollment and historical ROI, Nefera,”* Ghoulia rasped in Zombie groan-speak, her tone flat but entirely unyielding. *“The Fearleading squad already consumes thirty-four percent of the extracurricular fund. To grant your request would strip the Dead Languages department of their new translation scrolls. It is mathematically impossible and fundamentally unfair.”*

Nefera whirled around, her heels clicking aggressively against the stone floor as she closed the distance to the desk. "Unfair? I am a de Nile. We do not negotiate with the bureaucracy of zombies. Cleo represents the face of this school, and by extension, so do I. You will adjust the numbers."

Ghoulia rose from her chair, refusing to be intimidated by the taller monster. She adjusted her cat-eye glasses, staring directly into Nefera’s piercing eyes. *“Your lineage does not alter spreadsheet columns. I answer to Bloodgood, not to a graduate who refuses to let go of her high school glory days.”*

The insult hit its mark. Nefera’s eyes narrowed, her composure fracturing. "How dare you? I built the reputation of that squad! I am royalty, and you are a clerk. You sit here in the dark, managing the lives of monsters who are infinitely superior to you, hiding behind your little numbers because you lack the passion to actually live!"

*“Passion is irrelevant to structural equilibrium!”* Ghoulia groaned back, her pitch rising as she stepped out from behind the desk, matching Nefera's proximity. *“You mask your insecurity with tyranny. You demand luxury because you are terrified that without it, you are completely unremarkable!”*

"Unremarkable?!" Nefera yelled, stepping directly into Ghoulia's space, their chests nearly touching. "You arrogant, cold-blooded reanimated corpse! You think you understand me? You think you can analyze me like one of your pathetic data points?"

*“I analyze what is visible. And right now, you are just a loud, desperate phantom of the past!”*

"Shut up!" Nefera snapped.

The room fell dead silent, the echo of Nefera's shout hanging in the air. They were breathing heavily, mere inches apart. The anger radiating between them suddenly shifted, warping into a volatile, suffocating heat. Nefera’s gaze dropped to Ghoulia’s lips, then snapped back up to her eyes. Ghoulia’s posture stiffened, but she didn’t pull away; her pale cheeks flushed a faint, bruised blue.

Before another word of data or royalty could be uttered, Nefera reached out, her clawed fingers tangling into the fabric of Ghoulia’s striped shirt, and pulled the zombie forward.

The collision of their lips was frantic, fueled by the residual adrenaline of their argument. Ghoulia gasped against Nefera’s mouth, a low moan escaping her throat as her hands instinctively found Nefera’s waist, gripping the tight gold fabric. The kiss deepened instantly, a chaotic pouring out of frustration and unconfessed fascination. Nefera pressed Ghoulia back against the edge of the heavy desk, her hands moving up to cup Ghoulia's face, tilting her head to demand more. Ghoulia met her intensity completely, losing her usual calculated restraint, her fingers digging firmly into Nefera's hips as they made out, the scratch of bandages and the heat of the moment blurring everything else out.

Suddenly, Nefera gasped, tearing her mouth away.

She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own heels. Her perfect hair was disheveled, her lipstick smudged, and her chest heaved as she stared at Ghoulia in absolute horror.

"No," Nefera breathed, her voice trembling, a rare crack in her flawless facade. "No. Stop. This... this shouldn't happen." She pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes darting around the room as if checking for witnesses. "This is completely unacceptable. We... we are not... this is a mistake."

Ghoulia remained leaning against the desk, her glasses slightly askew on her face. Her blue lips were dark, and her breath was erratic. She looked at Nefera, the analytical clarity returning to her eyes, though her hands were still shaking.

She straightened her glasses with a trembling finger.

*“...Agreed,”* Ghoulia groaned quietly, her voice devoid of its earlier venom, replaced by a hollow, strained neutrality. *“It is an statistically anomalous deviation from standard protocol. It cannot be repeated.”*

"Exactly," Nefera said quickly, too quickly, smoothing down her dress with aggressive, jerky movements. "It never happened. You will leave now."

Ghoulia didn't say another word. She gathered her tablet from the desk, her movements stiff. She walked past Nefera, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. When she reached the door, she paused for a fraction of a second, her hand resting on the brass knob. She didn't look back. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, the lock clicking firmly behind her.

In the quiet office, Nefera stood frozen. Slowly, she lowered her hand from her lips, her fingers tracing the faint, lingering coolness Ghoulia had left behind. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, and a frustrating, desperate ache bloomed in her chest. She wanted to call her back.

Outside, walking down the empty corridor, Ghoulia tightly clutched her tablet against her chest. Her mind, usually perfectly organized, was a chaotic mess of uncomputable variables. Every logical synapse told her to delete the encounter from her memory, but as her pulse slowly settled, the only thought echoing through her brain was the terrifying realization of how badly she wanted to turn around and walk right back inside.

The heavy silence of the office closed in around Nefera, thick and suffocating. She stood entirely motionless in the center of the room, her gaze fixed on the empty doorway where Ghoulia had just vanished. The scent of aged parchment and the sharp, metallic tang of the zombie's perfume still lingered in the air, a stubborn haunting that refused to dissipate.

Then, a sudden, unfamiliar sensation broke through her shock.

Down low, beneath the tight, pristine wrap of her linen bandages, a wave of heavy, throbbing warmth bloomed completely unbidden. It was a slick, wet dampness that she absolutely had not anticipated—a visceral, involuntary response to the frantic heat of the kiss that had just shattered her composure.

Her breath hitched sharply in her throat. Nefera shifted her weight, her thighs pressing together in a desperate attempt to ignore the unmistakable, pulsing heat spreading between her legs. A dark, furious flush crept rapidly up her neck, burning hot against her golden skin.

She was a de Nile. She was always in absolute, flawless control of her mind, her environment, and her body. Yet here she stood, alone in a shadowed school office, physically undone by a girl who spent her days managing data and spreadsheets. The sheer intensity of the arousal was a profound betrayal of her royal pride, a damp reality that she could neither command to stop nor ignore.

Clenching her fists, Nefera dug her clawed nails sharply into her palms, using the sting of pain to ground herself. But the physical ache remained, deep and heavy, a demanding reminder of how completely Ghoulia had disrupted her defense mechanisms. It was a chaotic, desperate need that she had never felt before, leaving her shaken, breathless, and utterly furious at how badly she wanted the very thing she had just forced out of the room.

[jasonjaxkson]

The D𝓲 Angelo 𝓣wins .

summary: camp finds out that Nikolas the new camper who goes by Nikki is Nico's twin brother but Dionysus is his father not Hades because twins can have different fathers!, who turns out to the: Ignis Vestae of Hestia Wich is the one who brings warmth and hearth when hesita can't and reaches out to people basically a person who brings warmth and is kinda like a therapist or a safe place. he meets Will for the first time...

The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood, but the real heat was radiating from the center of the amphitheater.

Nico di Angelo, who usually maintained a strict two-foot personal bubble of shadows and death-glare, was hugging someone. Voluntarily. And it wasn’t Will Solace.

He was buried into the shoulder of a boy who looked like a slightly more vibrant mirror image of himself. They were the exact same height, possessed the same sharp jawlines, and shared the same dark, messy hair. But where Nico radiated the chill of the Underworld, this new boy smelled faintly of woodsmoke, crushed grapes, and clean linen.

"Okay, I’m not hallucinating, right?" Travis Stoll whispered loudly, leaning heavily on Connor’s shoulder. "The Ghost King is doing the arm-around-the-back thing. Actual physical contact."

"Maybe it’s an public relations stunt," Connor muttered back, narrowing his eyes. "Or a very advanced, very terrifying prank. Should we charge admission to watch?"

Annabeth Chase crossed her arms, her gray eyes darting between Nico and the newcomer, scanning for threats but finding only a jarring amount of familial warmth. "Nico. Care to explain who your friend is? And how he breached the camp borders without the fleece going off?"

Nico pulled back from the hug, his usual pale cheeks actually sporting a hint of color. He kept one hand firmly on the new boy's shoulder, anchoring him.

"Everyone, shut up for a second and listen," Nico said, his voice carrying that familiar, quiet authority. "This is Nikolas. He’s my twin brother."

The crowd erupted.

"Whoa, hold up!" Percy Jackson stepped forward, nearly tripping over a rogue root. He looked at Nico, then at Nikolas, his brain visibly short-circuiting. "Twin? Like, same mom, same birthday? But Nico, your dad is Hades. This guy smells like... well, not a graveyard."

"Because he's a demigod of Dionysus," Nico explained, a rare, defensive edge creeping into his tone. "Superfecundation. It's a thing. Twins can have different fathers. Our mom met Dionysus before... well, before everything. We were born together."

From the front row of the spectators, Sally Jackson clasped her hands over her heart, her eyes instantly welling with tears. She nudged Paul Blofis, who was looking on with a mixture of awe and immediate stepfatherly concern. "Oh, Paul, look at them. After everything Nico has been through, he has a brother. He isn't the last one left."

"It's a miracle, Sally," Paul said softly, placing a comforting hand on her back. "Though, explaining the biology of that to a high school health class would be a nightmare."

"A child of Dionysus?" Pollux murmured from the crowd, his eyes wide as he looked at his new half-brother.

"There's more," Nico continued, gesturing to Nikolas. "He's the *Ignis Vestae* of Hestia. She chose him. Since Hestia can't physically be everywhere to comfort demigods, Nikolas acts as her hearth. He’s a therapist, essentially. A walking safe space."

Chiron trotted forward, his hooves clacking softly against the stone. The old centaur bowed his head, a look of profound reverence crossing his face. "The Fire of the Hearth. It has been centuries since Lady Hestia designated an *Ignis Vestae*. Welcome to camp, Nikolas. Your presence here is a blessing we sorely need."

"A therapist?" Clarisse La Rue snorted from the back, leaning on her spear, though her posture relaxed just a fraction. "Great. Just what a camp full of heavily traumatized teenagers needs. A kid who dispenses feelings and hugs."

"Actually, Clarisse, a safe space sounds incredibly lovely right now," Juniper the dryad said, clinging tightly to Grover Underwood's arm. She sniffled, looking at Nikolas with pure adoration. "He feels so warm. Like a cozy campfire on a winter night."

"He really does," Grover agreed, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. He smiled warmly, his satyr instincts instantly approving of the serene aura radiating from the boy. "The nature spirits are going to love him. He brings a sense of peace that this camp has been missing for a long time."

Valentina Diaz, the daughter of Aphrodite, gasped loudly, already clutching a notepad. "A twin brother with a tragic, mystical separation backstory *and* emotional availability? The aesthetics are off the charts. We need to completely redesign the Dionysus cabin to accommodate a hearth theme immediately!"

Leo Valdez let out a low whistle, flames briefly dancing on his fingertips. "A walking fireplace, huh? Hey, if you ever need help regulating your temperature, man, I'm your guy. Though I think you've already got the whole 'warm and fuzzy' thing covered."

"It's beautiful," Hazel Levesque whispered, her eyes shining as she looked at her step-brother. She reached out, taking Frank Zhang’s hand. Frank smiled down at her, nodding in agreement. "Nico isn't alone anymore. He has a piece of his first life back."

"A true warrior of peace," Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano observed, her posture regal but her expression softening. She gave Nikolas a respectful nod. "The Legion honors your calling, Nikolas. Healing the mind is just as vital as defending the borders."

"Just don't try to analyze me, new guy," Thalia Grace warned, though she had a smirk on her face as she leaned against a pine tree. "But seriously, Nico, glad you found him. You look less like a walking corpse today."

While the camp processed the news, Will Solace finally broke through the crowd. He looked breathless, his medical bag slung over his shoulder, his golden hair catching the light. He stopped a few feet away, his blue eyes darting from Nico's hand on Nikolas's shoulder to Nikolas's face.

"Nico," Will breathed, a bit dazed. "I heard there was a medical emergency or a ghost invasion or—"

Nikolas stepped forward, breaking his silence. His voice was a rich, soothing baritone, but right now, it was laced with a healthy dose of protective mischief. He looked Will up and down, a slow, teasing smirk spreading across his face—a look that was entirely distinct from Nico's usual scowl.

"So," Nikolas said, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "You're the son of Apollo my brother keeps writing about. The doctor."

"Uh. Yes?" Will blinked, suddenly feeling very perceived. "I'm Will."

"You look a bit scrawny to be guarding the Ghost King," Nikolas teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice just enough to ensure the surrounding demigods could hear. "Tell me, Solace, does your medical license cover treating a severe case of brooding, or do you just give him sunshine injections? Because honestly, his posture has not improved since we were ten, and I blame your lack of orthopedic enforcement."

Will’s face turned a spectacular shade of crimson, matching the strawberries nearby. "I—he—his posture is a work in progress! And I'm a healer, not a personal trainer!"

Nico groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Nikolas, stop. Do not bully my boyfriend."

"I'm not bullying him, death boy, I'm vetting him," Nikolas laughed, the sound warm and rich, instantly putting the nearby campers at ease. He extended a hand to Will, his expression softening into something genuinely kind. "It's good to finally meet you, Will. Thank you for taking care of my brother when I couldn't."

Will blinked, the blush fading as he felt the literal warmth radiating from Nikolas's hand. He shook it, a bright smile breaking across his face. "It's an honor. And trust me, he's a handful."

Annabeth walked up beside Percy, a brilliant, calculating smile on her face as she watched the exchange. She looked at Nikolas, then at the stunned camp, and finally at Nico, who looked happier than she had seen him in years.

"Well, Nico," Annabeth said, her voice full of pride and amusement. "It looks like you finally found someone who can out-talk your boyfriend, handle your mood swings, and fix our collective trauma all at the same time. I’d say Camp Half-Blood just got a lot more interesting."

"Yeah," Percy laughed, looping an arm around Annabeth's waist. "And hey, if Dionysus is your dad, does that mean Mr. D actually has to remember your name?"

Nikolas chuckled, a spark of pure, divine hearth-fire lighting up his dark eyes. "Don't count on it, Percy. But I think we're going to get along just fine."

hope you enjoyed.

[jasonjaxkson]

Weening off baby Selina. Selina Jackson Olympus! •P1. summary: Annabeth tries to ween her off of breastfeeding now that she's two years old but it goes wrong and she ends up choking and Zoë (Their oldest who was Eleven at the time) saves her life! but she still needs to eat but she's scared of Annabeth what will the daughter of Athena do? 📚 x 🌊 this is a past memory!!! Selina is autistic!! (I am too!)

WARNING: BREASTFEEDING! DON'T LIKE? DO NOT READ THIS THEN! you have been warned. 🤱 I got lazy towards the end!

The Kitchen was thick with the scent of old books and a scent of cinnamon so faint you could miss it you weren't specifically focusing on it In the moment,

“Just take one bite, Selina. please ”.

Annabeth chase the Demigod daughter of Athena pushed the fork closer to her daughters lips. one a plate sat a fluffy golden waffle, dripping with a tiny

amount of maple syrup. two-year old Selina Jackson set at her highchair, her body stiff as a board. her hands flutter frantically near her ears – a repetitive

motion that Annabeth knew all too well. Selina's eyes roamed to the celling, tracking a phantom speck of dust, completely ignoring the food in front of her.

“Annabeth”. Percy said softly from the kitchen island z his hands hovering over a dish towel. "Hey. look at her. she's not ready for this today the texture is throwing her off. let it go this morning”.

as if it was that simple with a daughter of Athena....

it never was.

“she's two years old Percy.”. Annabeth said, her voice tight, strained by weeks of sleepless nights and the invisible, crushing weight of trying to understand her

daughter's mind. “she cannot rely on me for every single meal. The Pediatrician said we need to transition. my body needs a break. she needs solids”.

Selina turned her grey eyes – like Annabeths to Percy.

“i know what the doctor said”. Percy stepped closer, his voice dropping an octave, trying to play the anchor. “But she's autistic, wise girl. her timeline isn't the doctors timeline. she doesn't process things the same way other kids do. pushing her when she's already overstimulated is just going to –”.

Big mistake.

"I am NOT pushing her! I am PARENTING her!”. Annabeth snapped, though the moments the words left her mouth, a flicker of guilt crossed her grey eyes.

she softened her tone turning back to the highchair. “Sweetheart look at Mommy. just a little piece”. Selina let out a high pitched distressed whine. she buried her face into her face into her shoulder, small chest heaving.

she wanted comfort. she wanted her routine. she reached her tiny hands, clutching at Annabeths shirt, pulling desperately. “Mmma..mma”. she whimpered

a rare fragmented attempt at communication. she tugged her collar “No, Selina. No Milk right now. waffle first”. Annabeth said softly as she pushed her daughter's hand away.

“Eat the waffle First”.

the words that would cause the disaster.

“Annabeth seriously Stop!”. Percy urged, stepping up to the table. “she's terrified. you're forcing it because you're tired! just nurse her and we'll try solids tonight”.

that only made the blonde girl angry.

“No! if I given in now she learns crying gives her exactly what she wants, and we'll be doing this until she's four!”. Annabeths frustration boiled over, driven by frustration she cut a corner of the waffle off and when

Selina opened her mouth to cry she shoved it in. “Just taste the waffle!”.

the cries stopped.

her eyes widen in horror as the unfamiliar object hit her mouth, for a second it seems like she might swallow. then, her eyes rolled back slightly just as her sister Zoë

walks in from their uncle Nico's house, Selina tried to gasp for air to resume the cry Wich caused the thick piece of waffle to slide back into her throat.

oh no.

it was shoved tightly in her small airways. she froze her face turning from red to a terrible pale color. she made a horrific silent heaving motion. she wouldn't breath!

“SHE'S CHOKING!”. Percy screamed, before anyone could react Zoë ran up to her sister picking her up in her arms forward, her head further then her chest as

she used the heel of her hand to pat her back

Thawk!

Nothing.

Thawk!

Annabeth stood paralyzed, her hands against her mouth, her heart hammering in her ribs like a trapped bird. what did I do? what did I do?

THAWK!

on the third pat, a saggy piece of waffle flew out of the toddlers mouth and onto the hardwood floor. the blonde little girl coughed roughly as Zoë rubbed her

back softly in a way to comfort. “Shh It's okay I'm here”. the older black haired girl soothes her little sister, the blondes small body trembles violently against her.

“Zoë oh Gods! Zoë let me –”.

the moment Selina heard the voice of her mother she let out a pure screech of Panic. she was terrified of her, sliding her face deep into the crook of her sisters neck

Shit.

The rejection cut Annabeth deeper then any blade could. she stumbled back looking at her family in horror.

“She's actually scared of me!”. the daughter of Athenas voice trembled.

Percy looked up from their daughters. there was no anger in his eyes – only profound aching sadness and understanding. “she needs her mom. wise girl. not the daughter of Athena ”. Percy smiles softly to calm her down.

“Give her to me... Please?”.

Zoë hands Annabeth the baby, “Shh it's okay little owl”. Annabeth sobbed. Selina whimpers. but turns her head watching Annabeth undone her buttons of her blouse to reveal her breast.

Milk scent.

as soon as the scent of the milk hit the toddler latched safely suckling on the nipple softly, Zoë sighs. Percy just smiles at his three girls.

The Lagecys of Demigods of Athena and Posiden?..

they were okay for now.