His World in Her Hands
His skin crawled with the wrongness of it all. His eyes stung from the holiest of holy light, and every fibre of his being was telling him he was in the wrong place, that he shouldnât be here, that this was wrong and forbidden. But She stood there waiting for him, and he had not been vaporized into nothingness, so he mustâve been permitted to be here just this once.
The weight of the angel he bore in his arms was nothing compared to the sinking weight of his stomach. His nerves were on edge as he approached Her, exceedingly careful not to drag his angelâs battered wings across the floor.
Of course Aziraphale had to play the hero this time. Of course he had to shield Crowley with his own body when Micheal attacked him. Of course the idiot had to sacrifice himself against a blow that was delivered by the one who threw Satan down to Hell herself. The hit would have killed Crowley, there was no doubt about it, but at least he wouldnât have to see his angel like this, limp and lifeless with only the tiniest residual grace resting within the corporation proving that Aziraphale was just barely hanging on.
He finally reached Her, or about where he thought She was. His eyes were glued to the floor, not knowing if looking at Her with his damned eyes would be enough to set Her off.
âPlease,â he begged. This was his last and only hope, and heâd beg and grovel on his hands and knees if it would convince Her to help, but he wasnât going to let go of his angel. âPlease, heâs all I have. Heâs the only real good left on Earth. Lord, Iâll do anything, pleaseâŚâ
He stood there, gaze still glued to the floor, but now he was dripping tears onto Aziraphaleâs wrinkled coat.
âCrowley,â She said to him. This made him finally look up at Her.
She said his name. Not the name She had given him upon his creation, but his name. The one he chose for himself ages ago.
That would have caused Crowley a whole different kind of crisis if there werenât more pressing matters at hand.
She looked just as he remembered Her. She was Everything. She was Everything there ever was and Everything there would ever be. And that was all that could really be said.
âCrowley, what would you give in return for his salvation?â
Right to the point, as always.
âAnything,â he breathed. He wasnât sure why She asked. She had to have known this already. âAnything at all. Please. Please, Lord, please save him.â
Though She was Everything, and thus hard to discern Her expression, he knew She was watching him closely.
âWould you give your life for him?â
Crowley expected this question, so he was more than prepared to answer.
âYes.ââ
The atmosphere in the room shifted, and suddenly there was a giant pair of hands before him, open and waiting for Crowley to move. He gently lowered Aziraphaleâs corporation into Her hands, selfishly letting his fingers linger as he pulled away, not sure if he would ever hold his angel again. She waited until Aziraphale was carefully set in Her hands before pulling back and lifting the angel towards Herself.
At first, nothing happened. The atmosphere was silent save for the softest humming of holiness that existed everywhere in Her Domain. Then, so quietly Crowley thought he imagined it, there was a soft blowing of air. Similar to how someone might gently blow on glowing embers to raise a fire.
Crowley held his breath as the surrounding holiness focused into Her hands. It reminded Crowley of what it felt like to Create. Like gathering hydrogen and helium to make a tiny little star in your hands before setting it out into the black canvas of space to shine.
She was breathing life back into Aziraphale.
The next moment the focus was gone. The surrounding holiness calmed and rested loosely in the air, its job done.
âCrowley,â She spoke again. Without uttering anything else, She lowered Her hands, offering Crowley his angel back.
âAziraphale, Aziraphale!â He panted as he nearly leapt up to take him from Her. âAngel, angel, angelâŚâ He scooped Aziraphale up in his arms, holding him close and looking over him. He was still a bit of a mess with wrinkled clothes and ruffled feathers, but his chest was rising with the familiar habit of breathing, and his eyes were shifting under his eyelids as if he were dreaming.
And Crowley could feel Aziraphale wholly in his corporation again, not just withering vestiges of his fading grace.
Crowley sobbed with relief. His legs gave out under him, and he crashed to his knees, just barely managing not to jostle the angel out of his arms.
âThank you,â he whispered in between relieved sobs. âThank you, thank youâŚâ
He cried and held his angel as tightly as he could without crushing him. He was making Aziraphaleâs face wet with his tears as he peppered kisses onto his brow and into his hair. He coughed out pained âI love youâs over and over again, hoping that itâd stick, that Aziraphale would know this one thing. The one thing he could never manage to say, and he doubted heâd ever get another chance.
The room (if you could even call the strange dimension a room) grew quiet again as the demonâs sobs died out, giving way to a dreadful sort of peace.
Aziraphale had been saved, but Crowley now had his end of the bargain to uphold.
Still not having the strength to let go of the angel, Crowley looked up at Her again with a heart filled with equal parts relief and dread.
âHe will still need rest for a while, but he is healed and whole again. A bit of time and care and he will be up and well again.â
Crowley nodded. He hoped that Muriel or maybe Maggie and Nina would be up to the task of caring for the angel after he was gone.
âAnd⌠when will I be destroyed?â He gulped, trying to be brave. âDo I have time to bring him back to Earth or do IâŚ?â
Die now, his mind finished for him unhelpfully.
The holiness in the air bounced around with a jovial sort of movement, almost as if it were a chuckle.
âYou are not to be destroyed, Crowley,â She said, sounding mirthful.
âBut⌠but I agreed to give my life for him.â He hoped She wasnât just playing games with him. He wasnât in the mood to be given false hope just for him to be suddenly snapped into oblivion.
âAnd you will,â She promised.
Crowley blinked and suddenly She was there.
She had taken on a human-like form. Still made of pure Everything, but something smaller⌠almost comforting.
It was impossible to describe Godâs appearance in something as trivial as words, but if Crowley had to, he would sayâŚ
That She looked like his Mother.
She smiled at him, and he could see it plain on Her face. It was the same proud look a mother might give to her child after learning they had helped an elderly neighbor bring in their groceries. It was soft and warm and something Crowley had never seen before.
She calmly stepped towards him, and it took all Crowley had in him not to try and flee. She crouched a bit and lifted a hand towards his face. He was ashamed to say he flinched the tiniest bit, but he then squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his head towards Her. He focused all his attention on the feeling of the angel resting in his arms. He wanted Aziraphale to be the last thing he thought about before he was wiped from existence.
Her hand gently cradled the side of Crowleyâs face, and She used Her thumb to wipe the tears from his cheek.
âOh, Crowley. Itâs all right. Open your eyes.â
What else could he do but comply? He opened his eyes to see Her looking down at him fondly.
âYou said you would give your life for him, and so you will.â She spoke in the same voice heâd known since his creation, but here in Her smaller form, it did not sound like the booming thunderstorm that echoed across time and space. It sounded human.
Strange. He didnât think She liked humans anymore, but perhaps he was wrong.
She knelt down in front of them and rested Her other hand so that it sat on Aziraphaleâs shoulder. The angel sighed quietly, still asleep.
âYou will give your life for him. You will take him home to Earth and you will care for him as he recovers. You will give your life caring for him, protecting him, and loving him. You two will care for each other, protect each other, and love each other, just as you always have.â She gave Crowley a happy, patient smile. âIt wonât always be easy, and you may have to save the world again a time or two, but youâll muddle through it together just fine, Iâm sure of it.â
Crowley looked at Her, then down at the angel in his arms.
ââŚYou gave the Earth a good protector,â He muttered tiredly, still reeling from having his loved one saved and himself being permitted to live.
âAnd now Iâm giving him a good protector,â She added conclusively. âDemon Crowley, the First Tempter, the Serpent of Eden⌠and the Guardian of the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. Thatâs quite a title.â
âBit of a mouthful,â he tried carefully, still unsure about what She thought of him.
âDonât like it?â She teased.
âNah, âs all right,â he shrugged. âIâll get used to it.â He attempted a weary smile, then hauled himself up on his feet with the angel still cradled gently in his arms.
She stood with him and reached up to place Her palm on his cheek again, and he leaned down a bit so She could reach him more easily.
âGo now. There is much yet to be done, but your angel needs you now.â She stood on her tiptoes for a moment to place a gentle kiss on his brow.
Before Crowley could even react, God pulled away, and Her form returned to the larger form of Everything that She always was--
--And then he was in the bookshop.
He firmly decided that he would unpack all of that once he got the angel settled and resting in bed.
For now, he sat the angel down on the couch, propped a pillow under his head, laid that ugly tartan blanket over him, and went deeper into the bookshop in search of some fresh bedclothes.
God, from wherever She was, looked down upon Her two most interesting creations and marveled at how they and their relationship kept on surprising Her in the most wonderful ways. She looked at the bond theyâd built over 6,000 yearsâŚ
And God saw that it was Good.
non-writers will never understand the mental illness of writing an entire conversation in your head while doing dishes and then forgetting every word the second you open a blank doc
based on a conversation me and @gracieparkerr have been tossing around for the last few days. you can thank her for this one
the idea that peter and spider-man are not the same person, but two separate people. not necessarily in the âpeter has a CDDâ sense, but rather that peter cannot reconcile with who he has to be as âpeter parkerâ versus who he has to be as âspider-manâ, so he considers those opposing parts of his personality two separate entities.
walk with me here:
peter parker, the kid. the protĂŠgĂŠ. the beloved mentee, the intern with the quick wit and even faster one-liners, the pseudo-son who always manages to worm himself into other peopleâs hearts, the nephew who once spent nearly his whole life in the comfort of his auntâs arms and is now getting ready to leave the nest, the nerdy yet reserved best friend who seems to always know what to do and is capable of taking on the world, the deeply tortured yet still dorky and lovable boyfriend. the one who always prioritizes respect and morality and integrity in everything that he does, because that was how he was raised, because that is who he is. always quick to argue in a low-stakes environment, but never one to disobey just for the sake of doing it. a boy who is so full of anger to his core at all the injustices done to him but is also so deeply afraid of himself and what he might do, ashamed of his rage, that he tries everything he can to counteract it. by loving other people. and maybe if he can put enough good out into the world, he can soothe the fire in his heartâeven if it hasnât exactly been stamped out yet. he owes it to the people he loves and that love him to try his damnedest anyway. a loyal dog that ties itself to the tree in the hopes that the cold will make it weak enough to stop biting as a first reaction.
spider-man, the vigilante. the menace. new yorkâs most controversial and debated figure, after tony stark himself. a creature that is inherently superficial, inauthentic to a fault. his friendliness and kindness cannot be relied upon: everyone knows what heâs physically capable of. that him turning on the very people he protects now could mean the end of the city. he is an avengers-level threat of his own rightâand, worst of all, he isnât controlled. only his loyalty to iron man, to tony stark, keeps him in line. and even then sometimes he goes against starkâand what then? if he decides he no longer wants to continue serving the public? the city owns him, but they must keep him on a very tight leash, because the government cannot. they have to pray that his kindness, driven so deeply into him by unseen forces, never runs dry. he belongs to the city, but they will never accept him as one of their own, because he is too dangerous. and he knows thatâwhich is why he always detaches himself from missions. it is the only way to survive and save everyone, at the end of the day, even if it makes the people he saves leery of him.
these two figures, these impressions of a person, create a terrible dichotomy within peterâs mind. to be human, he must stop being a hero. to be a hero, he must give up being human. itâs a constant push-and-pull, his own personal battle he fights every day. comfort or responsibility. love or life. human or spider. he cannot be both, and that is why they both hate each other so strongly. they cannot decide on who should be in control, and very rarely do they call a truce to allow the other to take charge.
and, of course, he doesnât voice these things. it would both hurt the ones that he loves and put his entire image in great jeopardy. but what he hides the most is that the battle is not in a stalemate: spider-man is winning. heâs almost won completely. peter parker took a strong blow when he watched tony stark die, and eventually waved the white flag when he watched may die. that is why he made the choice to erase himself from the face of the universe: so that spider-man could live, and could continue to do good in this world in a way that peter parker canât. not anymore.
of course, thatâs not to say that peter was ever going to win. like i said beforeâheâs deeply tortured. doomed from the start. call it fate, call it parker luck, but it was always going to happen. peter parker had been so certain that day when he locked himself in the bathroom for over twelve hours straight, clutching the toilet and trying his best to muffle his sobs and retches, that he would die; and he was right. peter parkerâs been on life support ever since he walked out of oscorpâs doors. and the people that were extending his life were tony and may, even unknowinglyâof course they would. they truly believed that their boy would survive this, just as he had everything that had befell him in the past.
and what a waste it all was. peter parker was always going to die. he had spent 8 years dying and being dead and dying again. all peter parker knew was death. it was such a foolish ideal to believe that he could ever find life in himself as often as he brought it to others.
heads up. the charts in the middle are very rough guides. everything about copying is super grey, you need to use your own judgementâŚalso I have more notes
Honestly thereâs such an unnecessary stigma with tracing, regardless of the context. I used to trace all the time to better understand anatomy, and I still do!
The Golden Age That Never Was
The Truth About Grief, Fortesa Latifi + BBC Merlin Episodes 1.10, 1.12, 1.08, 1.13, 5.12, 2.12, 2.08, 5.05 (repeated), 4.10, and 5x13.
Why is it playing God? We arenât violating any natural laws. God set the parameters of the universe to allow these things. Thereâs nothing wrong with it, thereâs no hubris in learning more about how to manipulate the universe around us.
The reason this was accidental BTW is because they used paddlefish eggs as a negative control group for a breeding experiment on sturgeons because the scientists, quite naturally, assumed that they were SO unrelated it would be genetically impossible for them to mate. Like. I cannot stress enough to you how these creatures last related ancestors were
140 MILLION YEARS BACK.
If you don't know how far that is, that's basically the start of the cretaceous. Let me simplify that for you even further. Chimpanzees and humans seperated, what, 5 or 6 million years ago?
This is basically like if humans could hybridise with THESE THINGS.
This is the sort of thing that should be impossible. They used those eggs to be ABSOLUTELY 100% SURE NOTHING WOULD HAPPEN.
And then THEY GOT FISH OUT OF IT.
Like. You can quite clearly understand why they didn't think anything would happen. WE ARE MORE RELATED TO BLUE WHALES THAN THESE THINGS.
THE AMERICAN PADDLEFISH AND THE STURGEON ARE SO COMPLETELY UNRELATED THAT THIS IS NOT PLAYING GOD. IF ANYTHING THIS IS AN ACT OF GOD.
THE SCIENTISTS HAD NO BLAME IN THIS BECAUSE NOTHING LIKE THIS HAD EVER HAPPENED BEFORE
It sort of goes against the rules of genetics a bit.
THESE THINGS, FOR HYBRIDS, HAD A REALLY HIGH SURVIVAL RATING. LIKE 70% OF THEM SURVIVED.
To put that into perspective, getting a blue whale and a squirrel and trying to hybridise them is more sensible, and that wouldn't produce anything but getting you banned from science. Most animals that aren't plants can barely hybridise two degrees away from each other.
BUT THESE TWO ENTIRELY UNRELATED FISH create PERFECTLY HEALTHY HYBRIDS.
the scientists literally had to do the tests AGAIN just to be like "okay this is real right. This is actually like, not a fluke, this works right" and it worked again. They just Can!
placental mammals (eutheria) diverged from marsupials around 100 million years ago. whales and squirrels (rodents at least), being both placental animals, would have diverged at or after that time, meaning sturgeon and paddlefish still have 40 million years more separation.
before the sturddlefish, a purple squale would have seemed more likely- and since that's ridiculous and obviously no one would think that's possible except as a joke, that should speak to HOW impossible this situation seemed, and why they thought obviously this will be perfectly fine. If you took squirrel eggs (the gamete) and tried to use whale sperm to fertilize them, you could reasonably expect that to not work. That should be a good control. The eggs would definitely not actually be fertilized, and even if sperm somehow made it into the egg and some kind of development started, you would expect them to not make it to term and definitely not make a whole ass new animal that's perfectly fine actually.
And yet there is a purple squale in your fish tank, in fact there's like 100 of them and everyone is saying you played god but this was not what should have gone down, this was never the plan. This isn't you playing god, you think, this is god having a laugh at your expense.
Doofenric the Ostrogoth (insert jokes about his daughter Vanessa being "Goth" but in the modern sense) invented a City-Mover-Inator to move Rome across the Danube so his Germanic confederation could sack it.
Thankfully, Agent Pericles stops him by redirecting the Inator to Finius and Ferbingetorix's New Rome instead, moving it to the Bosphorus.
While Pericles and Doofenric are fighting over the controls of the Inator, it gets accidentally changed to paint remover mode and then fired at a random direction.
Somewhere nearby a painter just finished coloring the statue of the emperor when suddenly all the paint gets removed.
Au where Percy was taken by Amphitrite as her champion like Hera took Jason.
Heavily inspired by Prince of Lost Waters and Love is Enough (Until it Isnt) by WardofWinters (QoLife) in AO3- be sure to check these stories out and read their other stories (and if you know more stories with the same premise, please send them my way â¨)
Amphitrite gets the idea from Hera of course. If the sky queen can take her husbandâs bastard as her champion - someone who can bring glory to HER name as payment for their existence -then as queen of the seas and the spurned wife, she should also have one, yes? Its only fair.
She takes Percy soon after Hera takes Jason. So heâs like 3 probably. But she doesnât take him so CHB, she takes him to Atlantis as her personal project. Poseidon was furious of course. Sally called for him immediately after she found out Percy was missing. But can he do anything? No. He and his wife werenât on best terms as of recent centuries and sheâs invoking her right to the life of a demigod sired against their marriage. Also, he canât interfere with the boyâs life as his father but the laws are more lenient with the stepparent. So he resigns himself to letting Amphitrite raise the boy as he watches from afar. Which is doubly painful as Percyâs within arms length practically but he canât reach him.
The plan was 1) Get the boy; 2) bring him to Atlantis; 3) train him to fight for Olympus; 4) release him back when shit hits the fan to fulfil his role as the child of the prophecy; 5) Amphitrite gets recognition she deserves; 6) He dies. Thats pretty straightforward. Unfortunately she did not foresee that the reason Hera gave Jason up so early to Lupa was so she would not get so attached.
Amphitrite got very, very attached.
In a year, she was carrying him around her palace, braiding pearls into his hair and calling him âlittle princeâ or âlittle pearlâ. It became so concerning that Triton had to run an intervention when Percy turned 6 because Jason had started training as soon as he could walk straight but Amphitrite was reluctant to send him to training with the ichtyocentaurs because its too far- look at him Triton, heâs too young for this, what if he gets hurt, what if they treat him badly, what if word gets out and Zeus finds him blah blah blah. Fine. Compromise- Triton starts his training inside the palace of Amphitrite. But he has to start now.
To be fair, heâs not a bad student and he obviously adores the queen. They do have to stop him from calling her mother, though. That goes too far, for a bastard.
(Amphitrite was not pleased)
However, Tritonâs concerns about how attached sheâs getting was not without merit. She seems utterly determined to be Percyâs mother; even worse- she seems utterly convinced that heâll survive the prophecy and as a consequence be offered immortality. That way, he could stay with their family for all eternity. Which is⌠entirely wishful thinking if Triton was being kind. Frankly delusional when heâs not.
Triton watched as the intensity of the training was doubled then tripled under Amphitriteâs instruction. He watched Percy fall again and again, get back up fight. He watched him cry then watched him bleed filthy mortal blood, which only increased his motherâs paranoia. He watched as his mother promised Percy that one day, after he had saved Olympus, he could finally be part of their family. Officially. A crown. A throne. A Family.
There was nothing Percy craved more than love and acceptance. Nothing he wished more than to meet their father. Especially since the boy didnt know his birth mother lives and was desperately looking for him.
Triton sighed. This was a recipe for disaster.
The boy was sent to Camp Half Blood when the Bolt gets stolen. Dutifully, he does as told. Each summer he comes back to the surface, faces horrors upon horrors, then at its end he comes home and brings honor and pride to the Queen.
To be fair to Amphitrite, she was almost entirely right in her prediction. Almost.
She did not account for Percy refusing immortality. She did not account for him growing close to the demigods in Camp Half Blood. She did not account for him falling in love. She did not account for him meeting Sally Jackson again after many years.
She is furious.
There was a tense few months after the war where no one knew what to do. On one hand the coronation will still proceed under the kingâs instruction. On the other, the queen had been frigid with her son that she refused to see him when he visited. Considering that the planning was handled by the queen it was⌠not an ideal scenario. It frustrated Percy so much that he spent most days in the surface.
Which led to the present problem.
It was December. Percy was supposed to be in Atlantis. He was not. This year, he remained in Camp, with his significant other, occasionally going out to visit Sally Jackson. It was at this time that he was abducted from his own fatherâs cabin.
After Jason Grace popped up in Camp Half Blood and completed a quest to free the Queen of Heavens there can be no doubt as to who had taken her son.
She might not understand him. She might be incensed by his choices. But that boy was her son. He was her son, and damn heaven and hell, no one has the right to take him from her.
Something to be said about how all three of Poseidon's sons we meet in the first saga are extremely devoted to him.
This gets extremely obvious in chapter two of The Last Olympian, when Oceanus is attacking Atlantis and Percy, Tyson and Triton are just... dying to fight in a war and risk their lives to help Poseidon.
Actually, I find it extremely interesting how the three of them seem to look at this as almost a favor - or a gift, an opportunity - Poseidon would be giving them, instead of a favor they would be doing to him. They see it as a show of trust.
Look, let me pull some passages
Exhibit A
At the edge of the palace complex, a temple with a red coral roof exploded, sending fire and debris streaming in slow motion across the farthest gardens. Out of the darkness above, an enormous form appearedâa squid larger than any skyscraper. It was surrounded by a glittering cloud of dustâat least I thought it was dust, until I realized it was a swarm of mermen trying to attack the monster. The squid descended on the palace and swatted its tentacles, smashing a whole column of warriors. Then a brilliant arc of blue light shot from the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings. The light hit the giant squid, and the monster dissolved like food coloring in water.
"Daddy," Tyson said, pointing to where the light had come from.
"He did that?" I suddenly felt more hopeful. My dad had unbelievable powers. He was the god of the sea. He could deal with this attack, right? Maybe he'd let me help.
"Have you been in the fight?" I asked Tyson in awe. "Like bashing heads with your awesome Cyclops strength and stuff?"
Tyson pouted, and immediately I knew I'd asked a bad question, "I have been . . . fixing weapons," he mumbled. "Come. Let's go find Daddy."
Tyson wants really badly to fight, which to be fair, is pretty understandable. This is not only his father's kingdom, but he also lives there, and he sees the impacts the war is having on everyone. Poseidon has also done things for him before (not much, some would argue but): he "sent" percy to him when he asked for help, claimed him when he got to camp, offered him the opportunity to work in the forges, sent him to camp in the summer of tbotl to keep him away from the war, and seems to be pretty nice to him every time we see them interact. You can easily get why Tyson would be attached to Poseidon and would want to do anything he can to help him, especially considering he is seeing how Atlantis' destruction is wearing on his father.
Exhibit B
"(...) and this is my son Triton. Er, my other son."
"Your son and heir," the green dude corrected. His double fish tails swished back and forth. He smiled at me, but there was no friendliness in his eyes. "Hello, Perseus Jackson. Come to help at last?"
He acted like I was late or lazy. If you can blush underwater, I probably did.
"Tell me what to do," I said.
Triton smiled like that was a cute suggestionâlike I was a slightly amusing dog that had barked for him or something. He turned to Poseidon. "I will see to the front line, Father. Don't worry. I will not fail."
Okay, first of all I wanna point out how just before this scene, Percy says, "I'd only seen my dad four or five times in my life, and never for more than a few minutes." And now we have him feeling ashamed for not coming sooner to fight in his father's war, and being willing to do anything they ask of him - like, he just got out of an explosion, was shot in the leg and wounded by kronos scythe, FIGHTING AGAINST ONE OF THE GODS BIGGETS ENEMIES, MIND YOU, and yet I know for a fact if Triton had told him to go try beating Oceanus by himself, and if Poseidon had allowed it, he would have done it, yk?
A different character might have felt angry at being called out like this for not helping Poseidon with Oceanus when he is already the one who's leading the demigods against the bigger threat (who's the reason why Oceanus is even attacking them to begin with). But Triton's jab works. Percy does feel like he's not doing everything he could or should be doing for Poseidon. Like, do you get how insane this is?? He really feels like he should be doing more for the guy.
Do you get how good Poseidon's PR work was with Percy? In the first book Percy was seething bc this dude abandoned him and his mom for 12 years and then only claimed Percy to get him to clear his name, and now he is getting red in the face bc his big brother he didn't know he had until this moment is implying he's a bad son for not showing up unannounced to the palace he has never been invited to before to fight in this war instead of the other war he's usually fighting in also on behalf of their father.
These people are insane. The fact that Triton knew this jab would work? The fact that he is proud to be fighting on the front lines, the fact that he sees this as an opportunity to make his dad proud, the way he knew the fact that he got to do this would make Percy feel inferior and jealous? *chef's kiss*
Exhibit C
A shadow passed over my father's face. "You've had enough sorrow for one day. Ask Chiron when you return to camp."
"Return to camp? But you're in trouble here. I want to help!"
"You can't, Percy. Your job is elsewhere."
I couldn't believe I was hearing this. I looked at Tyson for backup.
My brother chewed his lip. "Daddy . . . Percy can fight with a sword. He is good."
"I know that," Poseidon said gently.
"Dad, I can help," I said. "I know I can. You're not going to hold out here much longer."
A fireball launched into the sky from behind the enemy lines. I thought Poseidon would deflect it or something, but it landed on the outer corner of the yard and exploded, sending mermen tumbling through the water. Poseidon winced as if he'd just been stabbed.
"Return to camp," he insisted. "And tell Chiron it is time."
"For what?"
"You must hear the prophecy. The entire prophecy."
I didn't need to ask him which prophecy. I'd been hearing about the "Great Prophecy" for years, but nobody would ever tell me the whole thing. All I knew was that I was supposed to make a decision that would decide the fate of the worldâbut no pressure.
"What if this is the decision?" I said. "Staying here to fight, or leaving? What if I leave and you . . ."
I couldn't say die. Gods weren't supposed to die, but I'd seen it happen. Even if they didn't die, they could be reduced to nearly nothing, exiled, imprisoned in the depths of Tartarus like Kronos had been.
A lot is said about how Poseidon calls Percy his favorite son, but Percy is actually an insanely devoted son considering how little Poseidon has shown up in his life. Can you really be surprised Poseidon is so fond of him?
Again, to be fair to Poseidon, his interactions with Percy are nice. Like, yeah, the first one was him saying he regretted Percy's existence but by now Percy gets where he was coming from. And in this conversation, Poseidon did a pretty good job at trying to console Percy about Beckendorf dying and the demigods that he probably killed in the Princess Andromeda (it was unsuccessful but the effort was there). Poseidon is chill; he's always cool when he shows up. But yk, as Percy pointed out before, he rarely ever shows up. So you really gotta give it to him, he really must have the charisma of a billion suns.
Exhibit D
Tyson gripped my hand desperately. "I will miss you, brother!"
Watching us, our father seemed to age another ten years. "Tyson, you have work to do as well, my son. They need you in the armory."
Tyson pouted some more.
"I will go," he sniffled. He hugged me so hard he almost cracked my ribs. "Percy, be careful! Do not let monsters kill you dead!"
I tried to nod confidently, but it was too much for the big guy. He sobbed and swam away toward the armory, where his cousins were fixing spears and swords.
"You should let him fight," I told my father. "He hates being stuck in the armory. Can't you tell?"
Poseidon shook his head. "It is bad enough I must send you into danger. Tyson is too young. I must protect him."
"You should trust him," I said. "Not try to protect him."
These three are making me insane, I swear. What I like about all of these interactions is the way they get each other and kind of enable each other. They act towards each other in ways they wouldn't with anyone who wasn't their siblings in any context that didn't involve their dad. Like Percy arguing with Poseidon that he should let Tyson fight - if Tyson were sad about not going to some other war and anyone other than Poseidon was trying to keep him safe in the forges, Percy would just say "thank you so very much" and try to convince Tyson it was not so bad. It's only bc it's their father that Percy gets how important this is for Tyson, and it's only bc it's their father that Percy sees Poseidon trying to keep him safe as a bad thing.
Same with Tyson. He loves Percy, he thinks Percy is the coolest person to ever exist, but he's also very protective of Percy - he wouldn't try to convince someone to put Percy in danger, especially considering he is far more familiar with how dangerous this war is, if it wasn't Poseidon.
Same goes for Triton's jabs at Percy - he knows they'll work bc they're all on the same page. He probably feels jealous of Percy for getting to risk his little mortal life in all of these missions.
And look, I get it. This dynamic is recurring amongst the children of the gods - they all wanna make their absent parents proud, they all think the only way to do this is through big feats such as going on missions or fighting wars. Still. Most of the demigods we see are like this bc a) they wanna get claimed or b) they never met their olympian parents and want to get their attention and this is the only way they know how. And most of them grow up to feel pretty bitter about this as well.
What I find interesting is how these three are like this - when they don't actually need to be.
Poseidon loves Tyson. I think he's most affectionate with him out of the three (mostly bc Tyson is also the most comfortable with him). Tyson's work for him in the forges is also important - even Triton seems to respect him for it, and never criticizes Tyson for not being on the front lines with him. And yet, Tyson still wants to do more than he already does - and he's already doing much for him in this war!
Same thing with Percy. He knows Poseidon is much more present and supportive than all the other gods - he has met him more than a few times, Poseidon has helped him on his missions before, he showed up on his last birthday, gave him a gift, hugged him that one time, told him he was his favorite son - and Percy is the fucking child of the prophecy! He's already the greatest hero of his generation! He's about to go to war with Kronos to save all the gods, including Poseidon!
And I can't speak much of the relationship between Poseidon and Triton, but he is his heir, he's leading Poseidon's army, he's with the guy all the time, and he helps him rule his kingdom.
And most importantly, Poseidon is not asking them to do more than they are already doing! He's actually doing his best to tell them he appreciates them and the things they do for him, and he's constantly saying "actually I would like all of my children to stay as safe as possible if it's not too much to ask".
Yet all of them want to do more! They're dying for Poseidon to ask them to do more! They're shaking in their boots at the prospect of failing him! They think him asking one of them to go do dangerous stuff in his name it's an honour! One would think Triton would get over it after living a thousand years with the guy (he has not), or Tyson would be more normal about it bc Poseidon is so affectionate with him as never asked him to do anything for him in exhange for his affection (he's not) or Percy would see how absurd this is bc he has been doing stuff for the gods since he was 12 and has an amazing mortal parent and even an amazing stepdad who do much more for him than Poseidon (he does not see how absurd this is).
They are the "let's ask dad if he wants us to kill something for him. Please dad let us kill something for you" brothers.
Like I feel like with the way Poseidon acts, most children of the gods would become more normal about this kind of stuff.
Not Poseidon's kids tho. They seem to get worse the nicer he is to them. Who would've thought?
Apparently a lot of people get dialogue punctuation wrong despite having an otherwise solid grasp of grammar, possibly because theyâre used to writing essays rather than prose. I donât wanna be the asshole who complains about writing errors and then doesnât offer to help, so here are the basics summarized as simply as I could manage on my phone (âdialogue tagâ just refers to phrases like âhe said,â âshe whispered,â âthey askedâ):
âFor most dialogue, use a comma after the sentence and donât capitalize the next word after the quotation mark,â she said.
âBut what if youâre using a question mark rather than a period?â they asked.
âWhen using a dialogue tag, you never capitalize the word after the quotation mark unless itâs a proper noun!â she snapped.
âWhen breaking up a single sentence with a dialogue tag,â she said, âuse commas.â
âThis is a single sentence,â she said. âNow, this is a second stand-alone sentence, so thereâs no comma after âshe said.ââ
âThereâs no dialogue tag after this sentence, so end it with a period rather than a comma.â She frowned, suddenly concerned that the entire post was as unasked for as it was sanctimonious.
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