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#literally from the second she was born her life was gonna go up in flames because she's a doppelganger

caranfindel · 3 years

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Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

#spn #15.20 #my fic #episode coda #sam winchester

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fandomscombine · 3 years

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No, Not Like This [Part 2]

George Weasley x Reader

BG: Rewatched the New Girl S2x15. You know the one with the ICONIC Nick and Jess 1st Kiss? Now make it the reader and Geroge!

a/n: This second part follows more on their realization of what tf just happened. As did in S2x16. (so they don’t have scenes together, just their brains going into overdrive thinking they screwed up. don’t worry I’ll bring them back in pt3 hehe but first here’s some chaotic fun!)

This part’s voices of reason are.... Cho and Fred!

WC:1330

Read PART 1

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

George made his way back up to his dorm in a surprising cool calm manner. It was not until late the next morning did what he did sunk in.

What George had thought was a very nice, vivid dream- one he wish he would have the courage to act upon in real life, had actually happened, he panicked. ‘OH MY GOD! OH MY-YOU KISSED HER! YOU IDIOT!’

Fred, who had just arrived in their shared dorm, toast in hand, laughed at his very dishevelled twin queries. ‘Kissed who?’

‘Y/N. I kissed Y/N’

‘ohhh…’ George’s forwardness made Fred drop his toast. ‘FINALLY!’ He exclaimed, scooting George over.

‘wait What?’

Fred places his palms under his chin. ‘Now tell me how this all went down. Y/n made the first move, didn’t she? Please tell me she did or else I owe Ginny 5 galleons.’

While George had a rather peaceful slumber, you on the other hand, did not.

Twisting and turning, mind still stuck on the same sentence. Ranging between the perplexity of ‘George Weasley kissed me?’ to the absolute euphoria of ‘GEROGE WEASLEY KISSED ME!’ .

You touch you lips, gently as if by the feeling of his lips on yours would be washed away if not treated with care.

‘I meant something like that. I didn’t wanna kiss you because of a game. I want to kiss you because you mean something to me’

His parting words echoed in your head.

You Mean Something to Me.

That means he likes you too right? He has to… the boy literally said it…well in the bare minimum implied it. Who in their right mind would deliver a world-shattering kiss to someone they do not fancy?

Though there is one slight detail that could offset this whole theory……

He walked away.

The boy kissed, professed his feelings then exited.

And people say that women are enigmas.

You sighed, you definitely need a fresh pair of eyes here.

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes 6:39am.

‘Great…’ You muttered, the stupid kiss has kept you awake, overthinking for almost 4 hours.

Rolling over, you layered on a hoodie to your pyjamas. ‘Well, she would just have to deal with me this early.’

You silently make your way out, trying your best to not wake any of your roommates.

In your desperation, the fact that the Ravenclaw’s common room location albeit not a secret, it had completely flown pass your head that they had no password but rather a riddle.

‘Please, can I get an easier riddle’ you pleased to the eagle knocker.

‘Which came first, the phoenix, or the flame?’

You huffed, ofcourse it won’t go easy on you.

‘How would I know?!’ you scowled. The door not granting you entrance just further adds to tour irritable state. How many more things had to be confusing? First George and now this!

‘I wasn’t there! You didn’t even give me a time frame, you stupid door! Ouch!’ Recoiling back in pain, you were sent aback whether be it from kicking the door or it getting back at you for mocking it, you weren’t sure.

‘Give me the full picture. Like is the Phoenix dying? Then the phonics came first than came the flame. If not then it would be vice versa, only a pile of ashes is seen from which a phoenix would be born… or reborn.’

Gosh, were you thankful that it’s too early in the morning for someone to see you rant to a door.

‘You know what? Whatever!’ You sighed in defeat; you would just have to hide from George during breakfast.

However, as you turn to leave, the most extraordinary thing happened.

‘OH My---’ You gawked at the now opened door. ‘It WORKED?!?’

‘It was a valid argument to the constrains presented.’ The eagle knocker remarked, ‘Now it you please, enter quickly, you are letting a cold draft in.’

‘Th-Thank you.’

You’ve been into the Ravenclaw Common Room before and the rows of floor to ceiling bookshelves never fail to intimidate you.

Your eyes land upon the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and the surrounding intricate tapestries, the soft glow of the sunrise transforming the circular room into a gallery fit for a palace.

‘Y/n?’ A voice called from the dark staircase.

‘AHH!’ You placed a hand to your chest. ‘CHO! What the heck?!? Don’t scare me like that!’

‘What are you doing here? How did you get in?’

‘OH uh… I ranted.’ You told her honestly.

‘You ranted.’ She said in disbelief.

‘Yes. But more on that later, I have more pressing matters.’ You stated, shaking the poor girl. ‘I NEED ADVICE CHO. CODE RED.’

‘CLEARLY.’ Cho sassed, dragging along to the sofa but you stood your ground. ‘y/n?’ Her tone now softer upon seeing your distressed face.

‘George kissed me.’

‘Whaaaaaaaaa?!’

You are utterly grateful for Ravenclaws minding their own business, a handful of early risers had gone out for breakfast passing you by. Ravenclaws no doubt has multitude of questions on what a Gryffindor is doing in their common room but had decided to not go down that rabbit hole and are more intrigued in guessing what breakfast specials there’d this last meal before Christmas break.

Though the more straightforward answer could be seen on Cho’s face.

It is too early to be dealing with this, but a friend is a friend. Though that doesn’t mean it stops Cho from internally swearing that her eyes are going to be permanently crossed from keeping up with your pacing about.

‘George kissed me and I didn’t even kissed me back-’ Pacing left, you recounted the previous night. As if sensing Cho call your bullshit, you caved. ‘okay fine! I kissed him back!’

Plopping face down onto the sofa, voice muffled by the pillow. ‘Is that what you want me to say?’ you demanded.

’I literally haven’t said a word for like over an hour’ uttered Cho matter of factly.

‘Sorry…’ You gaze up at her, pouting your lips as to make her forgive you faster before resuming to your grunts of ‘stupid George Weasley.’

Observing that your rant was over, Cho needed actual details in order to best help you. To help you out of this sticky situation or better yet some….realization, introspection…..That would be up to how honest you are with yourself. ’How was it though, was it…?’

You flop unto your back, mindless playing with your fingers as you recall, ‘It was like I was hit with a bunch of Cheering Charms.’

‘Really?’ Cocking her head, she continued. ’George was that good? How did he do it then?’

‘He just,’ Okay how were you to describe that magical moment? Wracking your brain but no words could do it justice. ‘He just like, grabbed me.’

‘uh huh’

Cho was unconvinced, so you decided to act it out.

Still lying down, you reach to the ceiling, clenching into fists. ‘and he took me, I mean it was strength, confidence.’

’mm hmm’

You brought your arms close to you, letting your eyes shut as you did so. ‘It was firm, but tender.’

’oh damn.’ Cho gasped.

‘oh yeah’ You hate how hot your face has become in a matter of seconds. ‘I saw through space and time for a minute, but that’s not the point.’

‘oh man what are you gonna do?’ Prompted Cho. This was it, the homerun, she thought.

‘I don’t know.’ You truthfully say. There are so many uncertainties, you genuinely don’t know. Wrapping yourself into a ball, you slip of the seat.

Leaning forward, Cho does the last trick on her list. The question that has been implied but left officially unanswered. ‘I mean do you…like George?’

You fake vomit. Your automatic defence system taking over. ‘bah yuck George? Ahhhh’ You tried to play it cool, chuckling. ‘Nooo!’

You’ve never told a soul! You and George are the best of friends-that’s the story.

Yet Cho’s unnerving brow challenges that narrative.

Halting, you swallowed.

‘Yes.’

Part 3, at the burrow will be coming up. So yeah.

It was supposed to be in this but I got carried away and got more inspiration from S2x16 where Nick and Jess had moments of albeit very panicked self-realization on the meaning of the kiss.

Taglist for this fic ‘No, Not like this’:

Thanks also for the support in part 1 and interest in reading more of the fic!🥰

@l0ttadreamz @vintagecherrypie106 @remmyswritings @jenniweaslee @iluvharrypotter172 @miaafrances @strawberriesonsummer @stressisakiller

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #Fred and George Weasley #cho chang #weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #fandomscombine writes

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yabai-korra · 3 years

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Eris getting some of Nesta's powers and his importance in the future

Y'all I'm 90% sure some of Nesta's power has been transferred to Eris, at first it occurred to me in a sort of "ha, could be" way but I'm pretty certain, hear me out! Also going to touch on the subject of Nesta not losing her powers completely.

The power in the dagger

Nesta Made the dagger and put some of her own power into it, and then Eris got that dagger as a present by Inner Circle, which wasn't really a necessary scene nor plot point unless you read between the lines.

KINGDOM OF ASH SPOILERS AHEAD!

We have seen the exact same thing in Kingdom Ash, Aelin lost all of her power but an ember, but beforehand put it in her sword Goldryn and whooped Maeve's ass, actually head lol, with it. Having power shoot out of her hands and her sword felt pretty much the same so I'm sure Nesta will be equally powerful in the next book! Not only does she have a bit of her power left, three weapons filled with her power, and the Dread Trove. Nesta is still the most powerful character 😎

If Nesta can put some of her power into a weapon, it doesn't seem like a stretch at all for the power in the weapon to get out and into a person.

Eris only pretended to be influenced by Koschei

This one was kinda obvious to me from the moment I read it, no psychoanalyzing needed.

Nesta and her weapons were said to "probably" grant immunity from Koschei's power because they were both Made, and Eris had the dagger while he when he was captured.

Every person that has been possessed by Koschei has been said to have glassy eyes, EVERYONE except Eris!

Eris's soldiers had glassy eyes.

Bellius had glassy eyes.

Cassian had glassy eyes.

Eris is the only "possessed" person to get "accidentally" caught.

Eri's soldiers said nothing, and it was Briallyn who reveal that Bellius and Cassian were possessed.

Out of Cassian, Bellius, Eris, and his soldiers, Eris is undoubtedly the slickest and most cunning one. Comparison between him and Cassian has been dragged throughout the whole book, while Cassin is the muscle, Eris plays mind games and politics.

ERIS IS THE MASTER AT WORD GAMES! How did Cass and Az realize he was possessed and therefore Koschei being there? THROUGH ERIS USING A WORD GAME he knew only Cass and Az will pick up on.

Are y'all trying to tell me that Eris, who supposedly had immunity from the Koschei's power, didn't show the only sign of being possessed which is glassy eyes, had accidentally said something that will let Cass and Az know he's "possessed"?

Golden flames

The word "flame" has been used in 4 different contexts throughout the book

a) actual fire in the fireplace

b) silver flames in Nesta's eyes

c) flames in Lucien's eyes

d) flames in Eris's eyes

We know that Autumn Court's power is fire, both Lucien and Eris were described to have red flames in their eyes, which is completely expected right?

Eris was said to have flame/red flame multiple times, but I'm only allowed ten pics per post, and obviously not gonna put quotes of Nesta's silver flames cause it's literally the title lol.

Then, when Eris was "possessed" and held a dagger to Cassian's chest, it was said that flame rippled from it, and Cass didn't know if it came from the dagger itself or from Eris.

My guess? Both or combined! When Eris received the dagger, he said that it has flame in it, and Eris is said to have had flames in his eyes previously.

Last but not least, AFTER Eris had been "possessed" and AFTER the dagger was returned to the Night Court, ERIS NOT LONGER HAS RED FLAME IN HIS EYES, BUT GOLD.

This was in the penultimate chapter! Aka the chapter before the last. SJM always takes great care to put something important or foreshadowish at the end of each book. The last chapter was obviously Nessian and Archeron sisters, since it was the Nessian book and the three sisters are all finally happy together (plus announcing the next book as Elain's) but chapter before that... about Eris? Interesting.

There was so much about him there I for a second thought the next book is going to be about him lol. So much to unpack in that chapter:

Eris was tortured by his father for information (which I think is the hint for Eris not being possessed).

Eris still insists there are some things about him and Mor that Mor hasn't told the Inner Circle.

He wants to explain something to Mor.

He obviously just wants to be friends with the Inner Circle (but that's a discussion for another post).

Cassian, who hates Eris with burning passion throughout the whole book, says he thinks Eris is a good guy, but is too much of a coward to act like it.

It was hinted that Beron did much worse things to Eris during his life, "The male had been raised with every luxury and privilege - on paper. But who knew what terrors Beron had inflicted upon him? Cassin knew Beron had murdered Lucien's lover. If the High Lord of Autumn had been willing to do that, what wouldn't he do?" If you ever read any SJM serials you would know that this wasn't put here just because, it's always foreshadowing with her.

"Because it doesn't add up. You know what a monster your father is and want to usurp him; you act against him in the best interests of not only the Autumn Court but all of the faerie lands; you risk your life to ally with us... and yet you left her in the woods." - Cassian. Do you see all the material for the future book?

"Eris crossed his arms, then winced. As if whatever injuries lay beneath his immaculate clothes ached." I THINK THIS IS A DESCRIPTION OF NOT ONLY ERIS'S CURRENT SITUATION, BUT HIS WHOLE LIFE. As Cass said, born in luxury, raised by a monster.

Eris is generally very fucked up? Not only was it in this last chapter, but it was stated multiple times that his upbringing really damaged him. When Cassian was surprised by the fact Beron tortured him, Eris responded with: "Get that pitying look off your face. I know what sort of creature my father is. I don't need your sympathy." That is an extremely fucked up way to respond to being tortured by one's father, and implicates he was subjected to similar misery earlier in his life.

"Nesta could see he didn't believe them - that he was so used to twisted politics and scheming of his court that even when the simple, easy truth was offered, he could not see it." Again, very messed up mindset, which in the author's language means writing material.

The last line said to Eris in the book is: "Eris was still their ally. Was willing to be tortured to keep their secrets. And Cassian didn't need to be a courtier to know his next words would slice deep, but it would be a necessary wound. Perhaps it would be enough to push him in the right direction. "You know, Eris, I think you might be a decent male, deep down, trapped in a horrible situation." He looked over his shoulder to find Eris's gaze blazing again. But only pity stirred in his chest, pity for a male who has been born into riches, but had been destitute in every way that truly mattered. In every way Cassian had been blessed - blessings that were now overflowing. So Cassian said; "I grew up surrounded by monsters. I've spent my existence fighting them. And I see you, Eris. You're not one of them. Not even close. I think you might even be a good male. You're just too much of a coward to act like it." This was said by Cassian, whom Eris insulted every time they interacted, who hurt his sister, who wanted to steal his mate, whom Cassian said he wanted to kill or leave to die on so so many occasions, who made Cassian feel stupid and insecure every chance he had, and yet Cass of all people found it in his big good heart to see the good in Eris and try to push him to be good.

And now, his eyes burn with golden flames.

There is so so much to unpack and reveal about Eris's character, and SJM couldn't be more obvious with pointing it out. He is definitely going to play a huge role in the next book(s). With his possible new powers, overthrowing Beron, healing from all the emotional and physical trauma inflicted upon him, revealing a lot of secrets he's been keeping, and finding a way to show his true colors.

Also I think Nesta might be the one to help him with it because she at some point says that she deserves to marry him because "she is just like him", and not only in a way that they both insulted Cassian. They both had/had demanding parents which made them cold and unfeeling, preferring to appear as assholes because they don't want and don't know how to be their true kind selves. I think she would a great friend and the best person to help him deal with everything.

And the way Eris obviously likes her which we've seen when they were dancing. How he saw that she really liked spinning around so he went out of his way to spin her on multiple occasions even though it wasn't in the dance protocol. I'm pretty sure that was his way of getting closer to her because he obviously can't do it with words.

#eris vanserra #eris #acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar #acotar theory #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #lucien vanserra #beron vanserra #wow this turned out way longer than anticipated #i love eris so much #i want him and nesta being friends #and him being a dog dad he is #sjm #sarah j maas #pro sjm

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black-rose-writings · 3 years

Text

Winx Lorebuilding - Pre-series Timeline and character ages

I’m trying to create as comprehensive lore for the Winx universe as I can (because the show doesn’t). Lorebulding is an alternative universe to the Winx Canon, but hopefully, it’s going to end up being much more straight forward.

Information from the canon is going to be used as more of a jumping off point than anything else. Information from the movies is going to be treated as less valuable than that from the show proper (since the movies’ canonicity is queastionable), though if I like the movie version more, it may be included anyway. Season 8 information is also going to be treated as less valuable, and will pretty much only be included, when it doesn’t contradict any previously established information.

I’m going to be using the destruction of Domino as a year zero for the timeline, for obvious reasons.

Some other things, before I get into it:

I’m taking the Winx’s listed birthdays at face value, including Bloom’s

I’ll be assuming the characters were their listed ages in their first appearance and the Trix and Roxy were 18 at theirs (because otherwise, Roxy would be a fucking baby compared to everyone else - Roxy is fresh out of high school in season 4 in the lorebuilding universe)

I’m gonna be using mid June in Earth time as the beggining of Alfea school year (see also my previous lorebuilding post x)

Long post ahead.

Pre-Series Timeline (Begining of the universe - 16ADD (After Destruction fo Domino))

Date Unknown - The Great Dragon pops into existence as a manifestation of creation, light and life. The Shadow Phoenix forms as a counter-balance to him, a manifestation of destruction, darkness and death. The Water Stars form.

Date Unknown - The Great Dragon creates the magical universe.

Date Unknown - The Great Dragon decides to rest on Domino, giving his power to the Nymphs.

Date Unknown - The Shadow Phoenix creates/accesses the Realm of Obsidian, creating/freeing the Ancestral witches into the Magical Dimension as the first evil beings in it.

Date Unknown - the Water Stars are sealed away from the Magic Dimension

Date Unknown - a sorcerer named Acheron creates the Legendarium

Date Unknown - The Ancestral Fairies exit the Legendarium World, bringing transformation magic into the Magic Dimension.

Date Unknown - Acheron is imprisoned within the Legendarium, which is later hidden away on Earth.

Some time before 977 BDD - The Ancestral Witches find a lost piece of the Dragon Flame mixed with darkness and form it into Valtor.

cca 977 BDD - The Wishing Star passes Valtor’s palace, he’s unable to capture it.

Somewhere in the middle ages - The Wizards of the Black circle form, beggining their hunt for fairies, forcing them to withdraw into the shadows of the human world, until magic was all but a myth to humans.

At least 100 BDD - Faragonda, Griffin, Griselda and Kelshara are born

At least 80 BDD - Kelshara and her brother become corrupted by Wild Magic and begin their search for the ultimate power.

At least 80 BDD - Griffin become involved with the Ancestral Coven and Valtor

cca 20 BDD - Crown Princess Daphne of Domino is born.

some time before 0 BDD - The Company of Light is formed

some time before 0 BDD - Griffin leaves the Ancestral Witches and joins the Company of Light

some time before 0 BDD - Daphne is named the Nymph of Domino

some time before 0 BDD - Daphne gains Sirenix

May 5th 2 BDD - the Trix are born (yes, they all share a birthday, because they started out being canonically triplets, and yes, they have their birthday on Revenge of the Fifth, how fitting)

August 18th 2 BDD - Crown Princess Stella of Solaria is born (yes in this version of events, Stella is only like three and a half months younger than the Trix)

September 23rd 2 BDD - Brandon of Eraklyon is born

February 15th 1 BDD - Timmy is born

September 2nd 1 BDD - Helia is born

October 15th 1 BDD - Riven is born

December 14th 1 BDD - Princess Bloom of Domino is born

December 16th 1 BDD - Tecna of Zenith is born

March 1st 0 (DD) - Flora of Linphea is born.

March 20th (DD) - Prince Sky of Eraklyon is born

May 30th 0 (DD) - Musa of Melody is born

January 1/0 BDD - Nabu of Andros is born (depending on if his first appearance in the show takes place before or after his birthday)

June 15th 1/0 BDD - Crown Princess Aisha/Layla of Andros is born (she’s canonically 17, when we first meet her and assuming season 2 starts around middle of June, she can either be freshly 17 or just about to turn 18)

Somewhere around the end of 1 BDD or begining of 0 (DD) - KIng Erendor of Eraklyon accepts a deal with the Ancestral Witches

Somewhere around the end of 1 BDD or begining of 0 (DD) - Domino is attacked, Bloom is sent to Earth with the Dragon Flame and Daphne is turned into a ghost - both are presumed dead.

0 BDD - Valtor fights the Company of Light and takes credit for the deaths of Bloom and Daphne. He’s captured and sent to Omega.

0 BDD - In the final battle between the Company of Light and the Ancestral Witches, the Ancestresses curse Domino and seal away all its inhabitants within their home realm of Obsidian.

0 BDD/1 ADD - Darkar is defeated by the Lord of the Templar from Lightrock and sent into a hybernation/dormant state.

March 20th 2 ADD - Princess Roxy of Tir Nan Og is born.

Somewhere between 3 - 6 ADD - Queen Morgana of Tir Nan Og is captured by the Wizards of the Black Circle

Somewhere in 5 or 6 ADD - Bloom and Selina meet Eldora, who takes Selina under her wing

Somewhere around 8 ADD - Musa’s mother dies

14 ADD - the Trix start attending Cloud Tower

15-16 ADD - Stella first attends Alfea, is expelled after she causes an explosion in the potions lab.

Character ages throughout the show + rough show timeline:

Season 1: mid June 16 ADD - spring 17 ADD

Musa - 16

Bloom, Tecna, Flora, Riven and Sky - 16-17

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 17-18

The Trix - 18, might be 19 in the finale

Season 2: mid June 17 ADD - spring 18 ADD

Musa - 17

Aisha/Layla - either 17 the whole time or turns 18 very early on

Bloom, Tecna, Helia, Flora, Riven and Sky - 17-18

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 18-19

The Trix - 19, might be 20 in the finale

Season 3: early June 18 ADD - spring 19 ADD

Musa - 18

Aisha/Layla - either 17 or 18 at the start, has birthday early on

Bloom, Tecna, Helia, Riven and Sky - 18-19

Nabu - either freshly 19 or turns 20 during the season

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 19-20

The Trix - 20, might be 21 in the finale, but probably not

First movie: End of 19 ADD

Musa, Flora and Sky - 19

Aisha/Layla and Nabu - either 19 or 20

Bloom and Tecna - fresly 20

Helia and Riven - 20

Stella, Timmy and Brandon - 21

Second movie: Begging of 20 ADD

Musa, Flora and Sky - 19

Bloom, Tecna, Helia and Riven - 20

Aisha/Layla - 19 or 20

Nabu - somewhere between 19 and 21

Stella, Timmy and Brandon - 21

The Trix - 21

Season 4: mid June 20 ADD - ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ , but for simplicity, let’s say spring 21 ADD (Season 4 might literally take place in matter of weeks or it might go for two years, it’s pretty much impossible to tell)

Roxy - 18 (possibly turns 19 at some point)

Musa - 20

Aisha/Layla - either 20 or 21 at the start

Bloom, Tecna, Helia, Riven and Sky - 20-21

Nabu - 20 or 21 at the starts, between 20 and 22 at the time of death

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 21-22

Season 5: early June 21 ADD - ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ , but let’s say spring 22 ADD (same problem as before)

Roxy - 19 (possibly turns 20 at some point)

Musa - 21

Aisha/Layla - either 21 or 22

Bloom, Tecna, Helia, Riven and Sky - 21-22

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 22-23

The Trix - 23, might be 24 in the finale

Season 6: spring 22 ADD - spring 23 ADD

Roxy - 20 (possibly turns 21 at some point)

Musa - 21-22

Aisha/Layla - either 21 or 22 at the start, turns 22 or 23 by the second episode

Bloom, Tecna, Helia, Riven and Sky (and probably Selina) - 22-23

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 23-24

The Trix - 24, possibly 25 by the end

Season 7: somewhere in the school year of 23/24 ADD, probably

Roxy - 21 (possibly turns 22 at some point)

Musa - 23

Aisha/Layla - 23 or 24

Bloom, Tecna, Helia and Sky - 23-24

Stella - might be 24 at the start, but probably 25 throughout the season

Brandon and Timmy - 24-25

The Trix - 25 or 26

Season 8: mid June 24 ADD - somewhere in 25 ADD

Musa - 24

Aisha/Layla - 24 or 25

Bloom, Tecna, Helia, Riven and Sky (and probably Selina) - 24-25

Brandon, Stella and Timmy - 25-26

The Trix - 26, possibly turn 27 by the end

#winx #winx club #winx bloom #winx trix #winx stella #winx flora #winx tecna #winx musa #winx aisha #winx specialists #winx nabu #winx character ages #winx timeline #winx lorebuilding

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meltedhorror · 3 years

Note

Please tell us what we could've had with Brave

I'm so curious and can't find anything for some reason

I was gonna answer this way earlier I'm so sorry anon BUT let me tell you now!! Long post ahead

WHAT BRAVE COULD'VE BEEN, AN ESSAY BY MEEEEE

okok so I will admit I've watched tons of videos on the subject and I can send them to anyone who wants

ANYHOW

The fact that this movie went through tons of rewrites probably comes as a surprise to no one. I don't remember exactly how many, but there was a good few rewrites throughout basically the whole movie, hence why some parts don't really go along with others.

So what could've Brave (2012) have been?

Lets start with the good part of the movie, or the only good part. The beginning.

We're introduced to Merida; A young rebel held to ridiculous standards by her parents, a young girl with a wild and free heart and that part of her is clearly endorsed by her father the king, but not so much by her mother the queen.

This is shown by the fact that her dad gives her a classic longbow (English horseback type may I add as an archer myself!), but with rules set in place by her mother (Shown through the oh so classic scene "No bows on the table. But MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM-")

Throughout the start of the movie we learn a few key facts; Though the king is the one supposedly making the decisions, it is the queen who is actually getting things done and the true ruler around here.

But here, let me give you a few examples of this!

She is very clearly respected in a regard that her husband is not.

In this scene a fight breaks out, which her husband joins if I don't remember wrong when he was supposed to stop it. He's more or less just one of the lads so to say, where as the queen? She has RESPECT. The fighting crowd clears as she decisively walks up to her husband and the other clan leaders to quite literally grab them by the ears. They look at her in a way that tells you that this is a woman you do not disrespect, because she means business.

There's also several times where she has to tell the king to do/say certain things that he as a king should know to do himself. She's like a puppeteer but in a nice way.

There's another scene that we'll get to in a second, just bear with me here!

The queen represents a more conservative ideology, the system that tries to push us into little perfect neat boxes.

She may be the voice of reason and the more or less true ruler of their kingdom, but she also represents what Merida fights so hard to escape.

Elinor is always depicted as very proper, from the way she speaks to the way she carries herself. Where the king, the triplets and Merida can act a bit of however they want without a care in the world, the queen always carries herself as... Well, royalty. As both a monarch and a woman she HAS to fit this specific box of how to act, walk and talk, and this is very cleverly shown throughout and DOES to the movies credit carry through to the bad parts later on.

EVEN IN THE PROMO ART THIS SHINES TRHOUGH

She's proper - Standing straight and neat, acting her best and like she should as a woman in her position.

So of COURSE Merida clashes hard with this idea of how you should live, and this shows and is the REAL struggle in the beginning of the movie.

This brings us to the proposal scene.

In this scene each of the clans bring their sons to marry Merida, the princess. This is where shit hits the wall.

Elinor pushes desperately for Merida to fit into this neat little box that she herself has had to live within for probably most of her life now that Merida is becoming a grown woman and, in turn, a queen.

Now she has to act this specific way and dress in a way, all these things absolutely NOT in character for Merida. So she acts out in small ways, tries to be her own person but her mother does not let her. Merida is to become a queen, and a queen does not act the way Merida has up until this point.

This does NOT fly for our protagonist however. She does NOT want to get married. She and the king also laugh at the guys wanting to marry her together, quickly shot down by the queen. Mind you this is ENTIRELY the queens decision and this HAS to be done.

So when she hears the clans have to compete for her hand? AND she gets to pick what they have to compete in? A devilish plan is born and she sees a new chance at freedom!

She picks archery with the plan to compete for her own hand and rebel against her mother. She is NOT gonna fit into this tiny neat box and she is gonna show it.

The day comes, Merida and the king make fun of the boys and get a scolding look from the queen which immediately shuts them up. Again a show of how much power and respect she really has, where just a simple look is enough to discourage bad behavior.

Final competitor Merida walks up to the archery line. Shit hits the fan like you wouldn't believe.

You stop and put down that bow or so help me. The king is concerned but finds it funny at first, but not the queen.

Elinor. Panics.

She is powerless as she rushes up while still trying to keep composure. She is the queen, she has to stay proper. Always stay in role.

The crowd watches on horrified, they know what is going to happen. Merida is ice cold as she walks up, tearing the all to tight dress holding her back and hits the X on target after target. She is breaking free, no, she is CLAWING her way out of this life forced upon her by a mother unwilling to understand or even compromise.

She stops and in a quick breath focuses, the queens threatening aura looming closer yet closer with each heartbeat. The final nail in the coffin. She releases the arrow and in stone cold perfection splits the final arrow down the middle, landing a final victorious X.

She turns around and faces her mother.

A seething rage for different reasons.

Cut.

The next scene they are fighting, ending with Elinor throwing Meridas beloved bow in the fire, completely destroying it, and Merida cutting a beautifully handcrafted textile in half.

They've both destroyed something important to one another. They are even.

Elinor expresses deep regret after throwing Meridas bow into the fire, trying desperately to recover it from the flames but is too late and the intricate weapon is already too far gone to even hope to restore.

AND NOW THE MOVIE TAKES A FUCKING NOSEDIVE

Throw everything we've just built up out of the window baby because none of this is relevant anymore! Mom becomes bear and we are thrown out on an all too familiar "LETS GO ON AN ADVENTURE TOGETHER WOOOOO ROADTRIP LETS FIND FRIENDSHIP ON THIS ROADTRIP :D"

Literally if you want to watch a movie with bears and a roadtrip like scenario go and watch Brother Bear, it's way fucking better than the trash they shat out for this movie.

Merida """accidentally""" curses Elinor to become a bear, and the only way to make her not a bear is to give back and fix something important and close to her heart.

They fix the fabric, the thing her mom made that Merida cut in half that occurred during the fight. But Meridas bow? Never fucking mentioned again. Not even an apology.

They never bring up ANY of the things mentioned here again in the movie. They never apologize to Merida. Merida is the one who has to change in the end ANYWAYS and Elinor never has to apologize for any of the things she did.

It's seriously so fucking upsetting to me what we lost here, and what we'll never have. We could've had an amazing movie about empowerment, about breaking free of rules already set for us because of the way we were born and about learning to change. But instead we got absolute vomit.

Anyway sorry for the incredibly long post, and fuck Disney <3 If you're gonna watch their movies pirate them, don't give them a single fucking dime. I'll never forgive them for the Frozen Elsa lookin ass dragon in the new movie.

#brave #brave 2012 #movie rant #ask #long post

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skipppppy · 3 years

Note

I’m so fascinated by your she ra fan character! I’m trying to understand the storyline but it’s a little hard to find everything, and I was wondering if you would mind explaining it here?

Thank you very much! Her story is SUPER convuluted, I elaborated on it a bit on another ask about her relationship with Entrapta, but I’ll try to sum it up as cleanly as possible but a lot of different factors come into play so it still might be LOOONNGG. It’s also not a very happy story, unfortunately, but it would be helpful for me to get it all written down!

In terms of things that might be triggering, her backstory involves mention of a wide range of abuse. It won’t be explicit but I just want to be safe!

I’m actually gonna put most of it under the cut for the sake of anyone who follows me or any tags so they aren’t cursed with a mile long post on their timeline. I know the pain 😅

So here it is! I present A COMPREHENSIVE TIMELINE OF ALL THE BULLSHIT ARIA HAD TO PUT UP WITH!!!!

-For background context, she’s a Wingfolk, a species of Bird People native to Etheria who live in a kingdom built into a forest of giant trees named Ornithia. I could go on about them for hours but all you really need to know is that they have hollow bones to achieve flight (which is also the case for real life birds), which makes Aria’s body very light and frail. So she’s basically useless in physical combat which is why she never really defends herself. She was also a particularly weak flyer, which is why she doesn’t avoid a lot of situations by simply flying away.

-EXTRA BACKGROUND CONTEXT, Aria was born around the time the Horde landed on Etheria. Her father was a sorcerer at Mystacor, who had a reputation for ignoring ethics in the name of science. This all came to a head when a meteorite struck the surface of the planet; he rushed to the sight, stole it, studied it for a while, and after learning it had a powerful magic, decided to try a ritual in which he extracted the magic from the meteorite and fused it with his daughter’s soul. It took a few years for people to find out but when they did he was exiled for his actions, and Aria, still a child, was given to her mother.

-ONE MORE SMALL DETAIL: from about the age of 18/19 onward, she started having dreams about a mysterious figure made of blinding light who knew secrets about the universe and promised to find her one day so they could “finally be together again.” 3 guesses who THAT is lmao (hint: it’s Horde Prime)

-I won’t go into details about her childhood because we’d be here forever but the most important things you need to know are 1) Aria’s mother was a HORRIBLE parent and preferred to get blackout drunk rather than look after her children. 2) Aria had 4 younger brothers who, due to her mother’s negligence, she had to raise entirely by herself, which is why she feels responsible over others and has such a “nurturing” disposition, it was forced on her. 3) She took her brothers and ran away from Ornithia when she was 15, and built a home in a small woodland in the mountains of Dryl where she has lived ever since. 4) Throughout her childhood she befriended Princess Entrapta and the two were extremely close due to their isolated upbringings.

-When the BFS visited Dryl for the first time in Season 1, Aria was there acting as both a lab assistant and royal advisor to Entrapta, and joined the rebellion alongside her. Nothing crazy happened, but when Entrapta “died” Aria was beside herself with grief and ended up leaving the rebellion in order to go tend to Dryl, since it needed a ruler and as advisor it was her job to step up and take responsibility. Unlike the others, however, she refused to return to aid in the battle of Brightmoon, since she was kinda miffed at how the Princesses treated Entrapta (lookin’ at you, leash lady Perfuma) and was thoroughly pissed that they didn’t even TRY to go back for her, even if it was just to find her body and give her a dignified burial.

-Season 2 was when things truly went to shit. When the Horde came to claim Dryl, Aria resisted but was defeated pretty easily. When Glimmer and Bow came to scout out the situation, they saw her being hauled away and tried to save her but basically got caught in a stalemate where they couldn’t act because the Horde threatened to harm Entrapta if they acted. They told Aria to go with the Horde and promised that they would form a rescue party to save the both of them. But after they learned that Entrapta had joined the Horde by choice and had more important missions to deal with, rescuing her just..stopped being a priority. She wasn’t a rebel so they had no obligation to get her, so eventually they forgot about her entirely.

-Aria was kept as a prisoner for a while, but Entrapta found out pretty quickly what happened and went to find her. At that point Catra was growing frustrated with all the menial paperwork she had to do, and since she’d had experience being an advisor/secretary type, Entrapta basically proposed to Hordak that Aria act as his assistant in the same way she used to at Dryl. He accepted since it meant he would be spending less time running the Horde and more time building the portal. Aria was against the idea of helping him since she was still holding out hope that the rebels would come save her, but she was simply threatened with the classic Evil Horde punishments (torture, more torture, being locked in a cell for weeks without food or water, a tad more torture). So from mid-Season 2 to the end of Season 4, that was pretty much the position she was in. Being the Fright Zone’s resident desk jockey.

-Not much happened in that timespan, most of what occurred revolved around the portal incident and the aftermath. While Aria had been playing the part of Hordak’s pretty little secretary she was trying to find weak points in the Fright Zone’s security system so she could bust her and Entrapta out of there. Due to her and Hordak building the portal (and smooching lol) she’d been spending less and less time with Aria, which had been making her a little upset. She felt like someone she’d spent her entire life caring for was replacing her for something better, but her suspicions weren’t confirmed until she asked Entrapta about leaving together and she refused. That was the first small nudge towards a downward spiral. Then Catra returned with Adora and the Sword in hand and the Princesses came to stop the Portal. The rebels had come to save Adora and forgot about her. She was willing to forgive and join them, until they saw that she had been assisting the Horde, assumed she had betrayed them alongside Entrapta, and decided to leave her behind without giving her a chance to explain herself. That was the second, slightly stronger nudge that made her teeter over the edge of a breakdown. And then Catra told her that Entrapta had abandoned her to rejoin the rebels. While it was a lie, it was perfectly placed salt in the wound, and the straw that broke the camels back into her shifting allegiance and properly joining the Horde.

-Throughout Season 4 she had the same role as before, except this time she actually cared about her work, and had taken on the additional role of helping Hordak with his busted tech since Entrapta wasn’t around to do it. He had already come to rely on Aria for paperwork, but now she was helping him with his machines and they had a shared trauma over being “abandoned” by someone they cared deeply for. She was literally filling the void Entrapta left, and in a way they started to care for each other. Aria, being a hopeless romantic who had read about a trillion love stories about gentle protagonists who healed the evil monster men with their kindness, took to him like a moth to a flame and happily played the role of “the next best thing” against her better judgement. It wasn’t really a healthy relationship, but they did genuinely care for each other and found comfort in one another’s presence.

-It didn’t last, however. Catra was vaguely aware of the “thing” they had, and while she was indifferent for the most part, she was dealing with a downward spiral of her own, and she slowly became paranoid that Aria would distract him from completing their plans. In her poor, burnt out kitty cat frame of mind, the only way to deal with the situation was to get rid of her. So, deciding to kill 2 birds with one stone, she told Hordak that Aria had been jealous of his relationship with Entrapta, and SHE had been the one to send her to beast island. And Hordak believed her.

-I won’t go into detail about what happened after that, because it was VERY GRUESOME! We all saw how Hordak reacted when he found out what Catra had done in the original show. Now remember when I mentioned that Aria has hollow bones that made her incredibly frail and physically incapable of defending herself? Yeah. It was not pretty. Hordak wasn’t completely at fault, since he thought his anger was warranted, but by the time he’d learnt the truth and realised his mistake she was dead. In the space between the incident and learning what really happened he’d thrown her in the abandoned black garnet chamber with no food or water and basically left her to rot. He was EXTRA mad at Catra for pulling that with him, but he didn’t have time to grieve since he, Glimmer, Catra, and Aria’s lifeless corpse were beamed up into Horde Prime’s flagship.

-When Prime initially found her she was still dead. However, remember the healing magic that came from the mysterious meteorite that had now fused with her soul? Spoiler alert! It belonged to him. The meteorite was one of his most prized possessions, and the dreams Aria had been having were the magic’s attempts at trying to establish a connection with him across dimensions. (the meteorite was somewhat sentient. This is perfectly normal and well thought out writing I swear) And being reunited caused a huge surge of magical energy that resuscitated her, allowing Prime’s clones to give her some much needed medical help.

-After being pretty much comatose for 2 weeks Aria finally woke up, and was finally able to speak with Prime in person. When she found out that the “mysterious figure” from her dreams who had promised to find her was REAL and had just saved her life, she basically just latched onto him. She was, understandably, TRAUMATISED from the last 2 or so years of her life, so she was too scared to go anywhere else or trust anyone, so Prime didn’t even have to try to win her allegiance. He was also very happy to have his meteorite back, even if it now had a mortal body with skin and a face and a slew of emotional baggage. So she spends most of Season 5 being showered in love and affection by Prime and all her attendants, eventually being crowned Empress. While Prime was unequivocally evil and Aria was aware of that, he mostly sheltered her from what he was doing, in fear that her loyalty to him might falter. Maybe in a fun au she could’ve convinced him to leave Etheria alone so they could be together for longer, but alas, it was not to be.

-In the aftermath of the Heart being destroyed and Prime being killed, her downward spiral returned and shifted into OVERDRIVE. The people who had abandoned and neglected her took her one safe person away from her and they were being hailed as heroes for it. While she now knew that Entrapta had never abandoned her and was instead sent to beast island, seeing her get a happy ending with the man who had, to be quite blunt, physically abused and assaulted her, shattered any part of their friendship that might have been recoverable. She retreated into herself, taking over Horde Prime’s role as ruler over the Clones. She turned the Velvet Glove into their new home, trying to be civil with the other Princesses but eventually descended into a cold, bitter, vindictive Empress who ended up making terrible decisions as a cry for help.

-I’m still undecided on what to do with her after her fun villain arc, but I do know that in the aftermath she’d probably either step down from the throne so she could properly heal from her trauma, or work with her clones to fix up Prime’s flagship and get as far away from Etheria as possible and find peace in a new life away from everything that hurt her. I may also bring back Horde Prime from the dead through my sheer will to ignore canon so they can be together, since they are for all intents and purposes, soulmates. And I don’t think it would be very fair to let my poor hopeless romantic who just wants to be loved lose her handsome prince forever. I think it would be sexy if I committed necromancy I think.

ANYWAY...THAT WAS A HEFTY READ..SORRY IT WAS SO LONG, BUT THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! I CAN COME BACK TO THIS FOR REFERENCE NOW

TLDR: babygirl has had it ROUGH

#spop oc #she ra oc #aria

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panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

fire and ice {Draco Malfoy x Reader}{pjo x hp crossover}

Words: 21k {:))))}

Summary: Wizards and demigods don’t get along. So what happens when the Malfoys are forced to stay at Camp Half-Blood?

Genre: angst - pjo crossover!!!

Notes: ask me about commissions! - masterlist - AM I SORRY? ABSOLUTELY NOT. this has been brewing in my brain for literal ages and i’ve finally snapped and just done it. might do more. who knows? certainly not me.

----

Lucius Malfoy hates demigods.

Everyone knows it. He doesn't make it a secret. He doesn't listen to the people who tell him – time and time again – that demigods and wizards aren't even meant to mingle, that him bringing their name into every press conference, every public appearance, every meeting, is doing nothing but spurring a fire that should never have been lit in the first place.

He's at it again, though, because of course he is. That man never knows when to leave well enough alone, especially concerning business that has nothing to do with him.

Today, his words are just as harsh as they were yesterday. The newspaper quotes him saying demigods are nothing but scum, mistakes upon the world. He has claimed plenty of times that not a single demigod was a planned child, that no god in their right mind would ever conceive with a Muggle.

“What the fuck is a Muggle?” Percy asks.

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at the black and white words. They jumble together, as they always have done, but you're still capable of making out the bare bones.

Lucius Malfoy really, really hates demigods.

“This guy is on drugs,” Percy continues. “Who's gonna be the one to tell him we're all literally just vibing over here in camp?”

“I think it all comes down to jealousy,” says Annabeth.

“Jealous about what? He's a fully grown wizard – he could wipe us out with one flick of his wrist if he wanted to.”

“You underestimate us.”

Percy scoffs. “I saw Will nearly fall into the fire the other day; there's absolutely nothing here Lucius Malfoy needs to be afraid of.”

And you see his point. Of course you do. Being a demigod yourself, you have the utmost confidence in the fact that Lucius Malfoy could, indeed, probably wipe you out with nothing more than a brief thought. Gods only know he's wanted to for as long as you've heard his name.

Nonetheless, this acceptance doesn't stop you from thinking about what it would be like to really stumble across the man who seems to be all talk and no action. Never once have you heard a story of wizards attacking demigods, nor vise versa. The two clans stay far apart from one another for reasons that have been made abundantly clear in the newspapers; they will just never get along. Two clashes of power like that will leave the world rumbled, and many people hurt, and it's better off to avoid that when you can.

“We should track this Malfoy bloke down.”

The words have fallen from your mouth before you've even fully registered they are what you wanted to say. Both Percy and Annabeth pause mid-argument, Annabeth nearly snapping her spine with how fast she twists in her seat to look at you. You flick your eyes up from your plate of roast beef and give a tiny, timid smile, as if shy that you even made such a suggestion.

“You're joking,” says Percy, before turning to Annabeth. “They're joking, right?”

“They're definitely joking.”

“I'm not.”

“Well, you need to start joking before I bring Will over here to make sure you're not running a fever or something-”

“I'm serious!” You gesture towards the fire, where the newspaper can still be seen curling amongst the flames. “Have you guys not been reading the amount of threats he sends us every time he gets a chance? What if he's serious?” “I doubt he's being serious,” Annabeth says, though there's a wobble in her voice that tells you she perhaps doesn't fully believe her own assurances. “Isn't it a crime in the wizard world to – like – murder innocent things?”

“I'm pretty sure there was an entire space of time over there where people were just murdering each other,” Percy responds.

Annabeth pales.

“See what I mean?” you continue. “Besides, it's getting boring here.”

Percy blinks. “Boring?”

“I'm bored. I just want something to do, for Gods sake. Chiron's keeping such a tight leash on us-”

Percy throws his hands up. “Oh! I wonder why!”

“You two even said a few days ago that you miss being out and about, doing stuff, saving lives-”

“I never said that,” Percy argues. “In my opinion, I've had enough saving lives to last me a lifetime.”

“Weak.”

“Coming from-”

“Okay!” Annabeth snaps. “Enough. This conversation is officially over.”

You pout, folding your arms over your chest like a child having a tantrum. Percy laughs at your expression, giving your nose a playful tap that does nothing but infuriate you further. It's been like this for weeks now – short tempers, boredom, an unease that can only be put to rest when you're out and about, doing what you do best.

Maybe it's the ADHD. Maybe it's the godly blood running through your veins. Maybe you're just too curious for your own good, but you want to find Lucius Malfoy and just talk to him. You want to see if he's as tough in person as he makes himself out to be on paper. You know you're not much to look at, nothing more than a teenager with interesting parentage, but maybe that will be enough to get your questions answered – why do wizards hate demigods so much?

Annabeth cuts the conversation short any time you try bringing it to life again. She's a master at changing the subject, sometimes deciding to just talk over you about a completely different topic. Eventually, Percy's laughter and Annabeth's avoidance is enough to make you shut up, and soon you're just sitting there, listening to Annabeth talk about the recent Athena cabin shenanigans she bore witness to a few nights previous.

Dinner finishes, and the tables split back into their cabins. Annabeth gets lost amongst her sea of siblings, giving you and Percy a wave before she disappears for the night. You and Percy walk in silence for a little while, before you split off to your own respected cabins.

Alone.

Sleeping on your own has never bothered you before. It's all you've ever known. You were born an only child, your mother having lost her mind shortly after giving birth to you, your father never being around due to the complicated fact he was a god.

Is a god.

Sometimes it shakes you to think your own father will undoubtedly outlive you. Hades is sat on his throne somewhere, watching you do all these things in his honour, knowing full well he will one day have to watch you die. He might be by your bedside as your heart beat gradually comes to a halt in your sleep.

More likely, he will be sat amongst his godly brothers and sisters, watching you fight on the battle field, catching the very moment a sword pierces your chest and you bleed out with no one to help you, no one by your side, no one caring.

You shake the thought from your head as you reach your cabin, a large, black painted building with a skull and crossbones over the door. It's a lonely place, but demigods are lonely kids, so it kind of fits, and you've never seen any problem with facing the truth.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you grab your notebook and pen from beneath your pillow. It's been a long time since you wrote anything, considering you've been too tired to even properly function these days, but tonight, your thoughts are heavy, and you need to find some way to let them loose. You sit cross-legged on the uncomfortable camp bed Chiron provided you with all those years ago, and start scribbling.

Just random sentences, things that probably won't even make sense when you wake up tomorrow morning, words that don't even go together, but are just popping in your mind every few seconds. You've always called it poetry, but it's on thin ice. You let nobody read it, considering you know how bad it is, how weird it is. You can honestly imagine someone reading it and immediately expressing concerns for your mental stability.

But it distinguishes that weight in your brain. It makes you see sense for a bit, pouring these words onto paper before closing the notebook and stuffing it beneath your pillow. You won't have to read them again if you don't want to, and that's the best part; it offers a moment of bliss, but there are no strings attached. All is well. All can be ignored if you want it to be.

----

It takes weeks for the subject of Lucius Malfoy to arise at the dinner table again.

Annabeth has been fighting it off. The demigod has known you for far too long; at this point, all she needs to do is take a glimpse of your face, and immediately she knows exactly what is going through your brain. It's like a sixth sense to her, and it gives her the perfect opportunity to change the subject before you can so much as utter the word Wizard.

Percy notices the tension, and finally snaps.

“Are you still thinking about what Lucius Malfoy said?”

Annabeth groans, slapping Percy on the arm. “I told you not to bring it up!” But your attention has already been grabbed. You straighten up in your seat, grinning from ear to ear as you say, “So can we go?”

“Give me a break,” Annabeth grumbles, dropping her head into her hand. “We're not going to visit Lucius Malfoy. We don't know the guy.”

“He doesn't know us.”

“Good.”

You lean across the table to flick Annabeth's forehead. “But he still insists on talking about us to whatever freaky wizard press he has special ties to; I just want to see him, Annabeth! I just want to – like – mess with him a little bit!”

Percy laughs, nudging Annabeth's elbow. When he speaks, it's through a mouthful of noodles. “I actually think our Y/N is on to something.”

“Thank you, Percy.”

Annabeth's head shoots up, a pale spot in the centre of her forehead where you flicked her. “No! No, this isn't even up for debate. Chiron will kill us if he knows we're even talking about it.”

“No he won't,” you reply. “Chiron trusts us. He's seen us do all sorts, and it's not like I'm asking you guys to go and risk your lives for me. We'll go and talk to him, get his side of the story, and then we'll-”

“It's honestly like you think I'm stupid.”

You freeze, fork hovering halfway to your mouth. “Come again?”

Percy laughs, failing to stifle it behind his hand. “You've only gone and woken the beast, Y/N.”

“Shut up.”

Annabeth sighs, running a hand over her ponytail. “I've known you since we were seven years old, Y/N – I know what you're up to. You'll never just talk to Lucius Malfoy. You'll get there, and you'll have to taunt him, and jeer at him, and put a stink bomb in his bathroom-”

“That's the oldest trick in the book – I'm better than that.”

“But you know what I mean!” Annabeth shakes her head. “You'll get carried away, and we know what happens when you get carried away.”

Your stomach dips. Even Percy's bright smile falls, replaced with a grimace the two of you share. It's a low blow, and Annabeth knows that, but she also knows better than to make it out like you and Percy aren't two of the most unpredictable demigods to walk on Camp Half-Blood soil.

When Annabeth next speaks, her voice is softer. “It's just too risky.”

“Since when did you start being scared of a little confrontation?”

Percy's voice startles you from your momentary reverie. Both you and Annabeth snap to attention, turning to look at your friend with raised brows; suddenly, he doesn't look like the happy-go-lucky, always bantering kid he usually is. His expression has darkened, jaw set and eyebrows lowered so his blue eyes look darker than normal. He can't even bring himself to look you both in the eye, instead choosing to keep a firm glare on the noodles and rice in front of him.

“What do you mean?” Annabeth asks. “I'm not afraid of confrontation. My scars can vouch for that.”

“Right, so why is Y/N's suggestion so scary to you?”

You blink; this was certainly not the direction you were expecting the conversation to go. Annabeth and Percy bicker like cat and dog, but there's never been any malice in it. Now, listening to Percy, you can hear the genuine hurt in his voice, and you know her previous comments about getting carried away have actually struck a chord in him.

Annabeth stares with her mouth agape, clearly unsure how to respond. She must sense the tension, too, must realise she has said the wrong thing.

Still without looking up, Percy says, “I agree with Y/N; we need out of this camp for a little while. We need to do something. So why not have a little road trip to visit the man himself, huh? Why not get our questions answered?”

“Percy....” Annabeth flicks a desperate glance in your direction, but you're not inclined to intervene when Percy is like this. As someone who has experienced the difficulty of controlling powers that you have been forced to ignore for a grand number of years, the last thing you want to do is provoke Percy any further than Annabeth has already managed to do.

“I'm bored, too,” he continues. “And, to be honest, I'm getting pretty tired of them wizards thinking they can say whatever they want about us. It's about time we let them know they're not better than anyone just 'cause they wear them stupid robes and have a council.”

“So what are you saying?” you pipe up, excitedly. “You'll go with me?”

Percy shrugs. “I don't see why not. It'll be a bit of fun, won't it?”

You cheer, throwing your hands in the air before catching a glimpse of Annabeth's angered expression. Your cheer immediately drifts away, and you let your hands fall to your sides before mumbling, “You sure? 'Cause, I mean, we don't have to.”

“No, we're going,” says Percy, staring right at Annabeth. He has a death wish. That is the only explanation you can come up with right now. “It'll be fun, as you said.”

Annabeth's nostrils flare. She says nothing else, simply sends one final glare to Percy – as if you're not even present – and stands up, marching away before dinner has finished.

Percy huffs, slumping back in his chair. “Where does she get off telling us we get carried away?”

“I mean, she isn't wrong, Percy.”

Percy scowls. “I don't think that's very fair.”

“You're in denial.” You plunge your fork into his noodles, using his distraction to steal some food for yourself. “But we're going to visit Lucius Malfoy! That'll be fun!”

“I only said that to make Annabeth angry.”

“I know, but a promise is a promise. We're going, and we're gonna have a fantastic time.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Not even two seconds later, Percy squeals and jumps from his seat. “Hey! Don't do that!”

You grin, willing the skeletons hand to let go of Percy's ankle and sink back into the dirt.

-----

You and Percy remember this so well.

It's muscle memory at this point, standing in the Hades cabin in the dark of night, Percy having tip-toed over to your domain to indulge in some illegal shenanigans. When you were younger, this used to be a nightly occurrence, which is one of the main reasons you both share such dramatic memories; neither of you are capable of staying out of trouble for very long, and maybe this is the very reason why.

It's so easy for you to go wherever you want. You could shadow travel out of Camp Half Blood without a second thought, exhaustion be damned, but you never do. You respect Chiron too much to go out of your way to disobey him, but tonight is an exception. Percy stands by your side, hands tucked into an oversized hoodie. He's pulled the hood on over his dark hair, shoving the tangled strands into his eyes, though he does little to fix this. Instead, he keeps his blue gaze on you and says, “How long do you think we'll be?”

“Not long,” you reply. “A few hours. Maybe a little longer if you fancy a stroll around London before we head back.”

Percy scowls, glancing over his shoulder at the window. Nobody is awake. Camp Half Blood has never been so quiet.

“Stop worrying.” You grab the sleeve of his hoodie, ushering his attention back to you. “I know what I'm doing, Perce – you've been with me a thousand times before. You know I can do it.”

“Last time you shadow travelled this far, you nearly died.”

“I was younger then. I've had more practise.”

“Enough to travel to London?”

You grab his hand, the motion so familiar now it's almost second nature. “Let's find out, shall we?”

You don't give life the chance to throw another distraction your way; you inhale in that way you always do before a lengthy jump, and then you let your mind empty of all rational thought. Your mind does not go blank, nor does it settle; for a brief spell, you feel insane. You feel utterly and completely unhinged as the dead cackle in your head, thrashing through your brain like dogs trying to leap a wire fence. Your thoughts are no longer your own, replaced instead by the thoughts of people who are angry at death, angry at their own fate, people who blame your father and all of his offspring for the way their lives turned out.

It hurts. You're forced to watch their faces as they twist into expressions of pure agony, begging for a help you cannot give them, because they are hundreds of years too late.

It stops once your feet hit the ground.

You try to steady yourself just to give off the illusion that you're perfectly fine, but your legs give out and you fall to your knees. Percy grabs your arm, but your body is limp as it slowly restores from the hectic ride that is shadow travel.

“Never gets any better,” Percy grumbles; even he is a little uneasy on his feet, swaying to and fro. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you belch. “Are we in London?”

Percy looks up. You follow his gaze, warmth immediately flooding your stomach at the sight of a job well done, because the two of you are amongst the unmistakeable sights of London.

It's a bit disappointing, you won't lie. Pictures in newspapers always perceive England to be this sophisticated, well-lit place, bustling with people dressed in suits and expensive clothes. Instead, you're greeted by a dark city street, broken street lights flickering overhead, people bustling by with their heads down, wearing track suits.

In the distance, someone yells, “Come on, mate!” and it echoes off the cobbled stone walls.

You and Percy share a glance.

“Maybe we just expected too much,” he says.

“Probably.”

He hauls you to your feet, keeping a hand on your arm just in case you end up toppling over again. Through the darkness, you are just able to make out the peak of a large house in the distance. It's straight from a horror movie in your opinion, made up of dark cobbles, a golden fence adorned with spikes to keep the Muggles from entering; the word itself is nearly enough to make you laugh, though the sight of the house keeps you quiet.

You and Percy approach the gates timidly, his hand still on your arm. “Is this the Malfoy house?”

“I think so,” you whisper. “It looks like the pictures we always see. It's what I was aiming for, anyway.”

“Good job, soldier.”

“Thanks, boss.” You pause, craning your neck to get a better look at the house. “How do we actually get through the gate?”

There are lights on in at least four of the rooms, a shadow passing by a curtain that looks tall and slim, gliding more than walking. You grab Percy's arm and point, whispering urgently, “That must be him! Lucius!”

Percy ducks his head down and laughs. “Okay, okay. Let's just climb the fucking gate and get everything set up.” He glances at you. “You're sure you're up for this?”

“I've never been more prepared for anything in my life.”

Together, the two of you scale the metal gate, using the upper body strength you have gathered from years of training at Camp Half Blood. You're over and in this strangers garden in a number of seconds, sprinting through the grand garden before suspicions can be roused. Around you, white peacocks look up from their grazing, though none of them make a sound to give away the presence of two strangers.

You reach the fountain and duck beneath it; this is where Percy needs to be if he wants to succeed in his part of the plan. He crouches beside you and hovers his hands over the water, not even giving you a warning before he uses his powers to pull the water from the concrete fountain. It sprays across the garden, and that's when the peacocks start to scream.

Water splashes against their feathers, startling them. You can barely hide your laughter at the sight of them springing up from whatever peaceful graze they were involved in beforehand, now darting around the garden like someone has plucked a feather from their flesh.

Percy shoves your arm. “Stop laughing and get on with it before they come out!”

You push past the distractions and focus your energy on your own powers. Your exhaustion makes it all a little bit more difficult, but the image of the final product is enough to have you pushing the exhaustion aside just to reap the benefits of this. Inside yourself, something pulls, and it's familiar, uncomfortable, but it has the effect you want. Almost immediately, a skeletal hand darts from the ground. Just one for now, but you wait patiently before making the next one erupt.

The front door of the Malfoy house bursts open, and standing there is no other than-

“That's not Lucius,” Percy says.

“It definitely is not.”

The person standing in the doorway cannot be much older than you, with snow white hair and a sharp face. His eyes, blue and cold, are wide as they take in the sight before him, his wand clutched in a trembling hand.

“You said you saw Lucius in the window!” Percy hisses, struggling to reel the spray of water back into himself.

“I thought it was!”

“For Gods sake.” Percy grabs your arm and drags you up, no longer caring about being seen. However, you stumble as he runs, dragging you along behind him, because the sight of the boy is distracting; he looks terrified, like he was expecting something completely different, like he thought someone was finally coming to take him away.

You recognise the expression only because you've worn it yourself so many times; growing up as the child of Hades leaves a lot of scars and a lot of fear on a person, considering your father certainly isn't the most liked individual upon the Olympians.

As Percy attempts to drag you back to the gate, you glance over your shoulder. The boys blue eyes glare into your own. He has seen you.

And nothing can really prepare you for what happens next. You don't know enough about the wizarding world to expect this, but the feeling is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Someone yells in your direction, and then something is crashing into your spine, slithering along your neck, giving you not a single chance to react before the world goes still and you drop to the floor, no longer processing a single thing happening around you.

----

“Would you just wake up?”

The voice is posh and annoying. It makes you want to laugh.

The pain in your spine stops you from doing such a thing, however. Instead, you slowly rouse from sleep, met by the blinding lights of a room unfamiliar. You lay on a bed fit for a king, soft pillows engulfing your sore head, thick mattress swaddling your body like a newborn baby.

And standing above you is a boy you remember seeing only vaguely; pale skin, snow white hair, a grimace that shows he perhaps isn't too happy about having you in his home.

You stare at him a moment, willing him to make the first move. Maybe if he starts the conversation, you won't have to go into too much detail about why you're actually here, because despite the glitches in your memory, that is something you remember very, very well.

Running across his lawn, thinking you were clever because you and Percy were finally going to give Lucius Malfoy a piece of his own medicine.

And now Percy is gone, and you're trapped in a strangers house.

The boy stood above you, however, says nothing. He looks almost nervous, eyes flashing between you and the door, like he's planning the easiest way to flee if things reach that point.

Finally, you snap. “Hello.”

He jerks away, nearly stumbling over a stool by the bedside as he does. “Oh,Christ. Hello.”

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

“You didn't – I'm not scared. I just thought you were still Stunned.”

You blink. “Stunned?”

“I Stunned you.” He pauses, biting his lower lip. “It was the only way I could think to get you to stop running.”

“Is that some kind of spell?”

The boy waves a dismissive hand. “The point is, you were in my garden earlier. If my father had been the one to see you, he wouldn't have hesitated to curse you and call it self defence.”

His father.

Something rushes through your stomach, an excitement that doesn't really make sense. All has failed. You're going to go back to Camp Half Blood and be chastised, probably brutally punished, for the choices you made tonight, and yet here you are, overjoyed at the mere mention of Lucius Malfoy, because that's the only person this boy must be talking about.

“You look a lot like him,” you say.

The boy narrows his eyes. “My father?”

“Lucius,” you clarify. “He lives here, doesn't he? He's the one Percy and I came to see.”

The boy slowly leans back in his chair; it's quite cute, actually, that he dragged a chair into this room just so he could sit over your Stunned body. Maybe he was making sure you didn't die. Maybe he just didn't trust leaving you on your own.

“What business could you possibly want with my father?” he asks. “You must be my age. What year are you in at Hogwarts? What House?”

You smile. “I don't go to Hogwarts.”

He reels back. “Really? Are you from a foreign school? Beuxbatons?”

“I don't go to your fancy magic schools. I'm not a wizard.”

The boy blinks. It never ceases to baffle you the pure ignorance of these people – how they can grow up in a world completely detached from everything and everyone, and yet are still unable to fathom the idea of anybody being different.

“If you're not a wizard, how did you make the water fountain do that?”

“I didn't. Percy did that.”

“Who is this Percy bloke you keep going on about?”

“He's my friend, the one you apparently let get away.”

The boy raises a brow, glancing over at the window as if expecting to see Percy just standing there; honestly, you wouldn't even be surprised.

He turns back and says, “So your friend is a wizard? Are you a Muggle?”

He's taking an awfully long time to catch on.

“No,” you reply, exasperated. “Neither of us are wizards. We're from New York – a little place called Camp Half Blood.”

And for a second, the revelation doesn't land. The boy continues staring at you like you have three heads, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed. But then the ball drops, and he jerks back, the chair dragging in the carpet with the speed at which he jumps to his feet. He looks almost horrified.

“Alright,” you mumble. “I'm not going to bring Zeus down here personally. He's a bit busy-”

“How did you even get here?” he hisses. “Are you an assassin? Is that why you were looking for my father – so you could kill him?”

“Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm a demigod, not a murderer.”

The boy looks at you like he doesn't think there's much difference between the two.

This angers you. Something in your stomach burns, and suddenly, the only thing you want to do is to get away from him. You want to go back home. You want to find Annabeth and hug her, tell her she was right, just as she always is. You don't like being in the company of wizards. You don't like being away from the people who understand you best.

“Look, this was fun,” you say, pushing yourself up from the bed. “But I need to get going. I'm sorry about your fountain-”

“Where are you going?” he demands.

You pause, raising a brow. “Why do you care?”

“Because – Because what if you come back to finish my father off? I can't just let you go!”

He must be completely oblivious. You have fought monsters taken directly out of storybooks, have argued and debated with Gods about things such as ice cream flavours and which way is the right direction to go on a road trip – the last person you have any interest in fighting with is some posh, uptight wizard.

“Look,” you say, “all I wanted to do was mess with the guy. He's been saying some pretty harsh things about demigods lately, and Percy and I just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. I don't want to murder your father.”

The boy stares at you. He's powerful, too. You know he is. You can see his wand sticking out of a deep pocket in his emerald green robes. One flick of that and you're a goner, and yet he chooses to just stand over you, eyes burning holes into your head.

“What's your name, anyway?” you ask.

He tenses. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

“Sounds evil.”

“It's a strong name.”

“Right.” You flick your eyes to the clock hung upon the wall. “Can I go now?”

He sighs and backs away from the bed. “My father would kill me if he found out I was letting you go.”

You stand up, knees trembling from the aftershocks of having a wizards spell slam directly into your spine, but you manage to catch yourself before crumbling completely; Draco does nothing to help stabilise you, instead watching you with a thoughtful gaze, like he's preparing to attack at any moment.

And it's weird. You know it's weird. You should not just be able to walk out of his house without a single consequence to your name. He should be holding you hostage, keeping you pinned to this bed until his grand old father gets home, and he can tell you off for trespassing, scaring the life out of his precious white peacocks.

But Draco doesn't say another word as you slip out the door and barrel downstairs, suddenly desperate to be away from a world like this. It's weird. It's unnatural. They care about blood status, and they learn spells, and it's all just a little bit too weird for your taste.

Even weirder is the fact that Draco is letting you go so easily.

---

You arrive back at Camp Half Blood when it's light outside, and you know you've been caught.

Wherever Percy may be, you do not envy the treatment he must be getting. You clamber up to the pine tree and look down at the camp you call home, not surprised to see people bustling back and forth already, Chiron included. He looks miffed, digging his front hoof into the dirt like a rabid animal ready to charge.

That's kind of what he is.

You hollow out your cheeks and stroll directly into camp, ignoring the startled gasps of the Half-Bloods. You'll deal with Chiron before you deal with them – that seems like the best way forward.

Chiron spots you seconds before you reach him. He turns, dust billowing up around him before he says, “And where do you think you've been?”

Chiron has always been a father-figure to you, Hades be damned. He saw you as a junior demigod, just growing into who you are, unable to fully process the fact that the man you always hated, the man you once believed to be a no good excuse of a father, was actually a Greek God who has spent his time watching you grow – just from the sky instead of on the ground.

He treats you and Percy differently than everybody else. You're both feared for no reason. People shy away from you like you've been on some blood-lust streak your entire life, even though that's far from the case. When you can, you avoid using your powers, purely because you know how much people dislike them. They see them as unnatural. They think it's weird, despite them having abilities, too.

“Hello, Chiron,” you mumble. “I'm very tired, so if you could just-”

“We've had word from the Ministry of Magic.”

You freeze, stomach dropping, certain you heard him wrong. The only wizard you actually made contact with was Draco, and surely he didn't go to the Ministry after letting you run free just like that?

Chiron shakes his head. His disappointed look is more than you can bare. “What were you two thinking, Y/N? What did you think would happen?”

“I – I – I don't know.” You look around desperately. “Is Percy here? Did he make it back safely?”

“Percy's resting. He wanted to go after you, but Grover wouldn't let him, and thankfully so-”

“I was fine. The boy I met – Draco -”

“Draco Malfoy?”

You falter. “Well, yeah. He spotted us and ended up Stunning me-”

“Oh my gods.” Chiron runs a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky, saying whatever prayers he thinks will help right now, like the Gods have ever listened to any of you before. “You do realise that's Lucius Malfoy's son, don't you? The son of the man who wants our kind terminated.”

“Draco wasn't like that,” you reply, even though you don't know why. “He let me go. He didn't even hurt me-”

“You've just said he Stunned you!”

“For, like, an hour! I was fine when I woke up! And look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't do the exact same thing if you could.”

Chiron groans, turning back to the Big House. He starts walking without another word, forcing you to sprint after him.

“Don't be mad,” you say. “It was stupid. I'm sorry. Chiron, I'm sorry. We just got bored-”

“If children put their family's in danger every time they were bored, Y/N, the human race wouldn't exist.”

He really is angry, angrier than you've ever seen him. It takes you back to your childhood when he used to tell you off for staying up too late, or getting out of bed in the middle of the night.

You stumble after him, thankful that he isn't telling you to go away and leave him alone; that's one thing Chiron has always promised he will never do to you or Percy – he'll never just leave you alone.

You walk into the Big House, side-by-side, and it's a mildly unpleasant surprise for you to see Annabeth already sat by Chiron's desk, her head in her hands, blonde curls framing her face. As soon as the door shuts behind you, she jerks up, whirls around and throws a pen in your direction.

You catch it. “I am safe, thank you for asking.”

“You're so stupid!” She groans, picks up another pen and throws it. Chiron is the one to interject this time, snatching the pen from thin air and tucking it into the little pouch hooked to his side.

“Enough, Annabeth. We haven't got time to chastise them.”

“I beg to differ,” Annabeth growls, not once taking her eyes off you.

The guilt claws to the surface; she only wanted to protect you, only wanted to give you some decent advice, and neither you nor Percy had listened, both too absorbed in your own boredom to use the common sense Annabeth seems so prone to.

Chiron, however, does not give you a chance to ponder over this gruesome feeling. Instead, he pulls a seat out and gestures for you to sit down, which you do without question; at this point, you know you'd be stupid to disobey him, would only be digging yourself into a deeper hole, one you're not too sure you'll be able to crawl out of.

He takes a seat in front of you as Annabeth hovers by your shoulder, arms folded over her chest, eyes trained dead ahead. You awkwardly shift in your seat, waiting for the scolding to begin.

But instead, Chiron grabs a golden button from a drawer in his desk and presses it without saying anything at all. The room immediately brightens up in all different colours – red, green, blue, strobe lights dancing across the room, taking shape in the centre of the carpet. You have to squint to fully understand the form taking shape, but when it does, your stomach drops.

Made entirely of lights, standing in the middle of the room, is Cornelius Fudge, the jittery little minister of the wizard world.

You've only seen him a few times, and never in person; a few times, he came to meet with Chiron in regards to escaped prisoners, wizards who wanted to harm demigods who were on the run. You never thought too much of him, but he looks angry now, his grubbly little face twisted into an expression of anger and loathing. When he speaks, his voice is loud and harsh, making you flinch with each syllable.

“Chiron!” he exclaims. “I hope this message finds you well; I'm still trying to figure out the communication device you gave to me in our last meeting. It's all very confusing, and every time I press something wrong, thunder and lightening nearly wipe me out.” He coughs into a handkerchief before continuing. “Anyway, I'm here to inform you of a mishap which took place in the Malfoy Manor only a few short hours ago. I've been given word that one of your people tried breaking into Lucius's home to do God only knows what. It's only pure luck that Malfoy's son, Draco, was awake and was able to stop the wicked thing from getting through the door.”

“Wicked thing?” you burst. Chiron raises a silencing hand, still refusing to look at you.

“We as a nation are becoming very paranoid by the loose grip with which you have upon your own people; they are starting to become wild, careless, and I can truly see a murder from one of you in our future, which, as the Minister, I must put a stop to as soon as possible. Therefore, I demand the culprit be punished for his or her crimes, and I will be popping in soon with my witness to go over the details of the night to help you further understand where our fear is coming from.” Again, he coughs into a handkerchief. “Thank you. I hope the camp is well – the strawberries you sent were wonderful, as always! Good day to you, sir!”

The lights blink out. The room is doused in silence. Inside your head, a scream echoes.

You don't even know what to say. Would an apology even suffice? Would an explanation even be worth it? Years it has taken for the wizarding world and the demigod world to live in peace, and by the sounds of it, you've just annihilated all of that for the sake of a prank. You let Lucius Malfoy's hateful words burrow themselves into your head, which is probably exactly what he planned.

Chiron puts the golden button back in his desk. The soft click it makes as it hits the wood echoes off the walls, so loud and gentle, so mocking. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet your own and says, “Now you can understand why we're all a little bit angry.”

“A little bit?” You close your eyes, letting Annabeth's outburst ring throughout the room. “Chiron, I warned them! I warned them both! I said – what did I say Y/N? - I said-”

“You said it was stupid, and that we shouldn't do it,” you mumble. “And we didn't listen.”

“No, you didn't, and now you've given the wizard council a reason to think we're out to get them, which gives them a reason to announce open fucking warfare on us-”

“Okay, Annabeth, calm down,” Chiron says. “We're taking this one step at a time. There's no point jumping ahead to things like that.”

“Chiron, this is bad. This is so, so bad. The wizards are going to think we did this on purpose-”

“Why are you saying we?” you ask. “Percy and I did this on our own. We'll take the consequences. We've done it before.” You turn to Chiron, who stands solemnly in the corner, head bowed as if deep in thought. “What are the consequences, may I ask?”

He sighs, nostrils flaring. “We've decided that keeping you in camp for the rest of the summer will suffice for now. The Minister and his witness will be arriving in a few days and I want you to be on your best behaviour.”

You scowl; the punishment is weak. You got off lucky, and you're aware of that, but it doesn't make it any more bearable. You hate being trapped, hate sitting in the Hades cabin with nothing but your own thoughts keeping you company. That's the hardest part about being a child of one of the Big Three – you're alone. It doesn't matter how many campers surround you, you are alone.

But you take the punishment on the chin, giving Chiron a respectful nod before walking from the Big House to continue with the rest of your day. You'll find Percy and talk to him about everything, maybe apologise for dragging him into something so stupid, something so avoidable. If either of you had any flicker of common sense, none of this would have happened.

It's only when you're halfway down the hill do you question anything Chiron has just told you.

You falter, one word lingering in your mind. Witness.

The only witness you can possibly think of is Draco Malfoy.

---

He arrives in the afternoon, already looking so madly out of place.

You spot his white hair, blowing so majestically in the wind Chiron has picked out for the day. His robes billow out around him, his sharp face stuck in an expression of anxiety. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes darting to and fro as he strolls through the centre of Camp Half-Blood with his father at his side and the stout Minister, Cornelius Fudge, strolling behind them.

He looks so out of place. It would almost be humorous if you weren't burning with misplaced anger at the mere sight of him; he told on you. He ran to his father and touted on you, even after making it seem like he was going to let you go with no consequences, and now you're stuck in camp for the rest of the summer with absolutely nothing to do and barely anyone to talk to.

“Dickhead.”

“Is that him?”

You jump at the sound of Annabeth's voice, very nearly dropping the spear you were working with before your distraction walked through the barriers.

“That's him,” you reply. “Draco Malfoy.”

“I meant the other guy. The one you went after.”

“Oh, Lucius. Yeah. He's there, too.”

Annabeth narrows her grey eyes, following the movements of the Malfoy boys. “You know, I can kind of understand why you wanted to put them in their place.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words collapse when Draco's head snaps in your direction, like he somehow sensed your presence. His eyes find yours, his face draining of what little colour it has; something inside you stirs, fingers curling impossibly tighter around the spear.

You remember those eyes so well, shockingly well, strangely well. Waking up to them burning holes into your skull was an experience you don't think you'll forget, considering the shock that coursed through you at the mere sight of him. He was so calm, so curious, not even yelling the slurs his father seems so keen on.

And you might have made it up. You might have just been imagining it, but you're almost certain he flicks his head in the direction of the bandstand set up on the far side of camp, nearly hidden beneath the canopy of trees. You continue to stare at him, too bewildered by the miniscule movement to respond before he disappears over the hill.

“Come on,” Annabeth urges, nudging your arm. “Let's get back to training.”

But you're too distracted now. Knowing that Lucius Malfoy and his son – Draco – are walking around Camp Half-Blood makes your moves sloppy. And then there's the matter of Draco's little signal, like he wants you to meet him somewhere, like he wants to talk to you.

You have nothing to say to him, but that doesn't stop you being curious about what he wants to tell you.

Annabeth swings her sword, very nearly clipping the side of your ear. You yelp, stumbling back. Your foot catches on a rock sticking up from the ground, and before you can react, you're sprawled across the grass with your spear laying in a heap at your side.

Annabeth sighs, kicking the weapon away from your outstretched fingers. “What the hell was that, L/N?”

You prop yourself up on an elbow. “You could have given me some warning.”

“Oh yes, because the monsters will be so generous as to give you some warning.”

You scowl, shoving up from the ground. “Look, I'm just gonna get some water before the next round, okay?”

Annabeth falters, narrowing her eyes. “Just some water?”

“Just some water.” You give her a dazzling smile, hoping to the gods that this is enough to convince her you are telling the truth. You know it's a long shot – Annabeth knows you better than anybody else, but she's learned from her mistakes. Trying to boss you around and tell you what to do will only ever end in disaster, and so she says nothing else as you set your gear back on the rack and head up the hill towards the bandstand, out of sight of Annabeth's suspicious glare.

Draco isn't there when you arrive. The bandstand is deserted, the only sign of life being the tree nymphs poking their heads out of the canopy to see who has arrived on their territory. You shoo them away before slumping down on the bench set in the middle of the stand, gazing around with your heart beating wildly in your chest, and for no reason at all.

He probably won't even show up. He probably hates you. He's probably too scared to face you after what he did, and honestly, you wouldn't even blame him.

After ten minutes, you start losing hope. Chiron will be looking for you shortly, most likely tipped off by Annabeth that you disappeared for no reason instead of finishing your training session. It won't be long for them to add two and two together and realise exactly what you have gone to do-

“I didn't think you'd actually show up. Thought you might have been banned from seeing me.”

Your head snaps up. “Jesus, Draco. You scared the shit out of me!”

There he is, all tall and lanky, white hair blowing away from his forehead, his weird robes billowing out around him. It's weird how a person can make such odd attire look nice, almost like an outfit you'd wear yourself.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest; he sounds tired. “I thought you demigods were meant to have superhuman senses or something.”

You raise a brow. “Our parents are gods, not superheroes.”

“Same difference.”

“I'm flattered.”

He sits down beside you, shoulder bumping yours. “Don't be. It wasn't a compliment.”

You fall into silence then, unsure of what to say, how to start the conversation you both know needs to be had. You had so much anger built up inside you only moments before, but the second you looked up and saw his face, it dispelled. You were reminded of them blue eyes gazing down at you when you awoke from your Stunning spell, how soft and worried they were for a complete stranger.

Finally, he inhales deeply and says, “I didn't mean for this to get as big as it did.”

“Everyone's mad at Percy and I. Me especially.”

He tilts his head back, glaring up at the sky. “How badly did they punish you?”

“I can't leave this place for the rest of the summer.”

“Not too bad, then.”

You glare at him. He cracks open an eye, catches your expression and raises a brow.

“It is bad?” Lifting his head, he gestures towards the open stretch of grass in front of you. “This place looks amazing, Y/N. You've got everything you could possibly need, plus you're safe from all those crazy monsters we always get word about.”

“The monsters don't bother me. I'm meant to go out and fight them; that's my purpose.”

Draco glances at you. You feel his blue eyes burning holes into the side of your head, can feel the judgement radiating off him as he takes in what you've just said. You never realise just how strange other people must find statements like that, how backwards it truly is to crave the feel of battle.

“You know, I'd kill to have a place like this.”

You look at him. “Really? Is your mansion not enough?”

He scowls, barrelling on like you haven't said anything. “A place where you feel like you belong.” He glances over. “You may hate being here sometimes, but look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel like this place is home.”

You can't do that. Despite your desire to be free sometimes, your desire to head out on the streets where you don't belong, you know Camp Half Blood will always be home. It will always be the place you turn to when you need comfort, because it is the only place in the world that has ever accepted you and your weird abilities with open arms.

Draco hums. “Exactly. I don't have that. I don't fit in anywhere; I'm not evil enough for my family, not good enough for everyone else. I'm on my own.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one; you're not used to this kind of talk. You relate so strongly to his feelings, but you very rarely express them in quite the same way. At Camp Half-Blood, everyone is in the same boat. It's rude to think you have it worse than somebody else. Every single person here was abandoned by a parent, maybe even both.

But Draco isn't a demigod, so maybe he won't mind.

“I get that.”

He narrows his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You tug at your sleeve, pulling the material over your curled fingers. “I don't exactly come from the most well-loved bloodline in this place. Even other Half-Bloods take one look at me and cower.”

“That blonde girl I saw you with-”

You wave a dismissive hand. “That's Annabeth; she's more like a sister to me, but even she's wary of my powers.”

Draco pauses. “What powers?”

You open your mouth to respond, to go through the long list of the terrifying things you are capable of, but your words are cut short by the sound of a bark in the distance. Your head snaps up immediately, senses sparking to life before you've even fully processed where the noise is coming from. Around you, the tension in the camp is amplified as the other Half-Bloods spring to the same level of alertness.

Draco straightens up, reaching into his back pocket for a wand that you can almost guarantee will be completely useless within the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood. You place a hand on his shoulder as you stand, pushing him back down onto the bench.

“Stay here.”

“Where are you going?” he asks, head darting left and right. “What was that?”

“I don't know, but it didn't sound good.”

“So call someone!”

You raise a brow, shooting him a glance over your shoulder. He looks like a scared little boy, hands balled against his chest, eyes darting to and fro. They join with yours eventually, softening almost immediately.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“We don't just call someone at Camp Half-Blood. We deal with this stuff on our own.”

Draco falters. His eyes narrow, though the expression doesn't last long; suddenly, he cries out and lurches forward, pointing madly to a space just over your shoulder. You spin just in time, yanking your sword from your belt and swinging blindly. Your shoulder smashes against the dirt, giving you a view of the beast that has just tried ripping you to shreds.

A chimera.

You recognise it. Of course you do. The lion head and snake tail are kind of difficult to forget.

“What the hell is that?”

“Draco, go!” you yell, rolling onto your knees and swinging your sword yet again. The chimera dives, talons outstretched, mouth open in a roar.

It's massive paws slam into your shoulders, shoving you back yet again. You cry out, struggling to lift your sword with the weight pressing against your chest, the blood now seeping from two wounds in your shoulders. Over the chimera's massive shoulders, you can see Draco jumping from foot to foot, clearly unsure what to do.

“Why are you still stood there?” you scream.

Your yelling triggers something within the chimera. You watch the gears turn in its head, its red eyes gleaming before it spins, it's tail snapping out and wrapping around your wrist. You cry out, sword clattering to the floor before you're yanked to your feet and thrown carelessly against the bench you were previously sat on.

Draco spins. “Y/N!”

You groan, looking up through bleary eyes; your sword isn't like Percy's. It won't just reappear in your pocket any time you lose connection with it. Where it lies in the grass, feet away from you, it will stay.

That means you only have one way to get this beast away from you and Draco.

It takes all of your strength, and it's never easy, but you push through the pain and the exhaustion and pull on that little trigger within your body. Something surges inside you, a feeling so familiar it almost feels like second nature. The floor rumbles. Draco yelps, clinging desperately to the back of the bench, but you keep your eyes on the chimera. It digs its foot into the dirt, growls low in its throat, and then it dives.

The skeleton's hand bursts from the ground, wraps around the chimera's ankle and pulls it back.

As soon as the chimera's chin hits the dirt, you bounce to your feet and sprint towards your sword. You snatch it from the ground, spin and slash through the air, no longer caring what part of the beast you hit, just as long as you injure it somehow.

It strikes through the goats head that protrudes from the chimera's back.

Black blood oozes from the monsters back end. It splatters up your arms, tiny dots sprinkling your face, but you don't have the time to ponder on that. You swing again, this time going for the neck. The chimera screams, but as soon as your sword makes contact with it's bushy mane, the scream disappears. The chimera bursts into golden powder in front of you, blowing away in the wind.

A pair of hands wraps around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall to your knees.

“Holy shit,” you whisper against Draco's collar. “Are you okay?”

Draco can't speak. Looking up, you see his lower jaw rattling, words fighting to the surface but being unable to push past his wall of fear. He looks everywhere but your face, as if trying to figure out where on earth the chimera disappeared to.

“It's gone for now,” you say, throat dry. “You're safe, Magic Boy.”

“How did that get in here?”

Annabeth's voice echoes up the hill. Glancing over your shoulder, you see her marching in your direction, Chiron and Percy walking by her side. At the bottom of the hill, the other Half-Bloods look up, shocked at the sight in front of them. Your disgruntled form being held up by a wizard is certainly not a normal sight at Camp Half-Blood.

“Y/N,” Percy exclaims. “Are you alright?”

“Just peachy,” you croak out. “I think I might be bleeding out, though.”

“Someone get some ambrosia,” Chiron demands, and it's with gentle hands that he extracts you from Draco's grip and lowers you to the floor. He looks up at Draco and says, “Are you alright, boy?”

“T-the skeletons,” Draco stammers. “They just – they just came out of the floor!”

Chiron smiles gently. “So I see you've been witness to our Y/N's miraculous abilities, hm?”

Draco's eyes widen. “Y/N did that?”

“Yes, you idiot,” Annabeth hisses, shouldering Draco out of the way so she can kneel beside you. She dabs a wet cloth against your shoulder, and you hiss at the contact.

Percy arrives shortly after with an air tight bag of ambrosia, which you eat in about two seconds flat.

“How did that get in here?” Percy asks.

“The barriers were open already,” Chiron replies. “We needed to let the Minister and his men inside the camp, so we had to weaken them a little bit. We must have weakened them too much, and the chimera found a way in.”

“Or this is the gods playing some sick trick on us,” says Annabeth. “Remember when Percy first arrived and they thought it would be funny to let the Minotaur roam free?”

“This isn't the gods,” you mumble. “I haven't done anything to make them mad.”

“So it's the wizards, then.” Annabeth whirls on Draco, folding her arms over her chest. You close your eyes, listening to Percy chuckle lightheartedly at your side. Both of you have given up trying to calm her down at this point. “You and your people just have to come in and ruin everything, don't you?”

Draco blinks. He's barely spoken the entire time, clearly still trying to figure out what the hell he has just witnessed.

Annabeth laughs coldly. “When will you and your people get the hint that we don't want you here. We don't want anything to do with you! It's you lot who have so much to say about us, and the minute we retaliate, you take a little hissy fit and have to get the bloody council involved! Well, goodbye to you. Get out of our camp and stay out or else the next monster to attack you won't be killed by us – you can deal with it on your own with your fancy magic spells.”

She turns back, flicking her curls in Draco's face.

You shyly glance up and mumble, “Sorry about her.”

“And although that speech held a lot of passion,” Chiron cuts in, placing a hand on Annabeth's shoulder, “I'm afraid Mr Malfoy and his people cannot leave the camp until the barriers have been sorted.”

Silence.

Even you're too stunned to speak, staring up at Chiron as if waiting for the punchline of some joke. He simply looks around, examining the invisible barriers surrounding you, most likely seeing every single gap and crack held within them.

Percy is the first to break the silence. “Uh. . . Why not?”

“Well,” Chiron says, “the barriers have been split. If we were to open them any further to let these men out, I fear they might be unsalvageable. We can't risk it.”

“So we're just gonna let them stay here?” Annabeth hisses.

“I can't do that!” Draco exclaims, stumbling forward with wide eyes. “I have school, and my mother-”

“This isn't up for debate,” Chiron says. “I must keep the safety of my people in mind at all times, and this is the only solution that will keep them safe.”

Annabeth scoffs. “I wouldn't say letting the Malfoy's in our space is keeping us safe.”

“That is because you're blinded by your ignorance.”

You and Percy take sharp breaths through your teeth, watching Annabeth's face drop. It would almost be sad if you weren't in agreement with the centaur.

And it's weird because you used to have the exact same thought process as Annabeth; all you read about wizards was how much they despised your kind, how they saw you as unnatural, a mistake, because gods aren't meant to have children with mortals. Mortals – or Muggles – aren't meant to carry such powerful beings.

And yet here you are, looking at Draco and feeling even the tiniest glimmer of excitement at the idea of having him stay with you for a little while.

Chiron turns back to Draco and says, “You can stay in cabin eleven with the Hermes kids. That's where all the newcomers go.”

Draco pales. “I really don't think this is a good idea...”

“It's the only idea we have,” Chiron says. “Now, get ready for the feast. You must be starving.”

---

Draco doesn't go to the feast. Apparently, he isn't as starved as Chiron made him out to be.

Instead, he follows you to the infirmary, despite having no injuries himself. Will Solace feeds you chunks of ambrosia, keeping a narrowed gaze on Draco as he sits by your bedside, saying nothing. He looks thoughtful, head ducked down, hands perched between his legs; he hasn't spoken a single word since the two of you arrived, and his skin is yet to find colour again.

You glance at Will and whisper, “Is he looking okay to you?”

“Absolutely not,” Will replies, pressing a damp cloth to your shoulder blade. “But I'm not one hundred percent sure how wizards are supposed to look in the first place, so I can't really say.”

“Have you got any juice or anything like that you can give him?”

Will hollows out his cheeks, clearly not appreciating the idea of using up resources on a wizard. Nonetheless, the son of Apollo is too kind for his own good and heads into the back room to grab a juice box. He hands it to Draco with a soft smile, one Draco does not return, before Will says he's going to go check on the other campers. He leaves you alone after that, the room empty besides you and Draco.

Draco doesn't look up. He doesn't really need to; even without seeing his face, you know what expression he will be wearing, as it is the same expression so many people have worn after watching you bring the dead up from the ground.

You bite your lip and say, “The food is good here. Are you sure you don't want to go and get some dinner?”

Draco slowly looks up. His eyes are bloodshot, strained, glinting light blue beneath the yellow lights. “Who is your godly parent?”

You pause. “Why do you care?”

“Because what I just saw you do-”

“Hades,” you blurt out, unable to bear hearing him go into detail again, unable to bear the disgust that will surely ring through his voice. “Hades is my father. I'm the kid he was never supposed to have.”

Draco stares at you, waiting for you to continue, but what else is there to say? There's no relationship to describe, no happy memories with your dad you can share. All there is to it, is that you are not meant to be here, and you are.

“And you . . . you have no brothers or sisters? You're all alone?”

Your eyes snap up. “I'm not alone. I have Percy, and Annabeth, and. . . and everyone else. Plus, I have a little brother – Nico.”

Draco perks up, like the idea of you having a little brother is something to be excited about. “Really? Where is he?”

“He's floating around somewhere,” you reply. “He doesn't really like staying in one place for too long; I only really see him when he comes to visit me or his boyfriend.”

Draco withers. “Oh.”

“Why do you care anyway?”

He scowls. “I don't care. I'm just curious. If I'm to stay here for the next few days, I might as well get to know you a little better.”

“It works both ways, Magic Man. Tell me, why is your father such a little bitch?”

“I could ask the same thing about yours.”

“My dad is the god of death. What's your dad's excuse?”

Draco glares. You grin, slowly leaning back on the hospital bed as you wait for his response, because you genuinely want to know. You've spent years reading articles orchestrated by Lucius Malfoy that go into great detail about why he hates demigods so much, why he thinks they're the scum of the earth; now, you have his son at your disposal, and you're determined to find out where these violent opinions have stemmed from.

Draco sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “My father just doesn't like people who are different.”

You pause. “Different?”

“People who aren't pure-blood wizards are basically bottom tier to him. That includes Muggle borns, Squibs, Muggles, demigods.”

“But he doesn't even know anything about demigods.”

Draco shrugs heavily. “He knows you're different. That's all he cares about.”

It makes sense, you suppose. Lucius has never kept his ignorance a secret. It's not just demigods he speaks badly about. You've read it all – his hatred for Muggles, for people who disagree with him, for good people.

People who aren't like him.

“And what about you?” you ask.

Draco flicks his eyes up, still messing with his fingers. “What about me?”

“How do you feel about demigods?” You gesture around the room. “Now that you've seen us in action; what are your thoughts?”

Draco shrugs, looking back down at his intertwined hands. He has nice hands. Muscled, long fingers, expensive rings. “I think it's all quite odd, but I'll get used to it. I'm gonna be stuck here with you for a while, so I don't really have a choice, do I?”

You smile. “No, I don't think so.”

---

The dreams are worse that night.

They always are after you have been injured. Already restless, you aren't strong enough to fight off the nightmares that swarm your mind, and tonight they come for you in full force.

You always call them nightmares, even though they really aren't. More like visions, people visiting you when you least expect it. You've had Poseidon visit your dreams, Athena, even Ares, but tonight, someone new is making an appearance.

You recognise him immediately. He has the same eyes as you.

“Dad.”

He stands waist deep in black mist. Curly black hair frames a chiselled face, dark eyes gazing at you with a look close enough to love that you get a little emotional. By his side is a three-headed dog, and in his hand is a skull, held so casually. Neither of you mention it. Neither of you need to.

The room is dark. Looking down, you see black mist crawling towards you, hiding your legs from view. You should probably be panicking, but something is holding you back.

“Dad,” you repeat. “Where's Nico?”

“Safe,” he responds, voice too calm for a man whose son has been missing for weeks. Voice too calm for a man who is standing in front of the child he abandoned so many years ago. “And how are you, child?”

“Good. Better than ever, actually.”

“Even with the company you have been keeping recently?”

You pause, certain you misheard. Hades raises a brow, tilting his head as if to say Are you going to try and tell me otherwise?

Swallowing, you say, “So this is about Draco.”

“This is about the wizards in general,” Hades corrects. “Don't think I didn't notice you getting comfortable with that boy.”

“I wouldn't exactly say comfortable-”

“He held you up when you fell.”

“And that was very nice of him.”

“That was inappropriate.”

You fall silent, cheeks heating up. You truly cannot believe your dad – your real life father – is stood in front of you giving dating advice. He needs to take one look at his own history with women and sort himself out before he comes running to you.

“Wizards aren't safe around our people, Y/N,” Hades continues. “You aren't meant to mingle with people like him.”

“I think that's a little harsh.”

“His father wants you dead.”

“My father wants everyone dead! You're the god of the underworld, for crying out loud!”

Hades's eyes widen for a moment, clearly shocked at your outburst, but you don't even have the strength to reel it back in. You have felt frustration towards many of the Olympians, all of whom seem to believe they have some sort of control over you, but the one Olympian who makes you angriest the quickest, is the one stood right in front of you, the one who shares your blood, the one who hooked up with your mum one day before abandoning her, along with the kid he always claimed he was never going to have.

You don't even care that he's a god. You don't care that he could kill you in two seconds flat if he so desired.

“Chiron did not raise you to have such a sour attitude,” Hades says after a moment.

You deflate, eyes slipping closed. “There's really no point in trying to get through to you, is there?”

“It is my job as a father-”

You scoff.

“-to keep my kids safe. That's what I'm doing.”

Your eyes pop open. “Keep us safe? Bianca's dead, Dad. Nico's gone rogue. The only reason I haven't been slaughtered is because I never expected you to keep an eye on me – I do everything on my own.”

“That's not true,” Hades growls. “You know that's not true.”

“No? So where's my little brother then, huh? Where's Bianca? Where were you yesterday when a fucking chimera nearly ripped me to shreds, huh? Where were you then?”

“I'm a busy man, Y/N, but I'm serious when I say that wizards are not the kinds of-”

“This isn't about the wizards!” you yell, throwing your hands up. The ground rumbles, but neither you nor Hades acknowledge it. “This is about you coming into my dreams, thinking you can just lay down some fatherly rules after nearly eighteen years of not giving a shit about me!”

His eyes flash. Within the dark irises, you catch a glimpse of a screaming face, and you know exactly what he must be hearing in the back of his mind right now. You hear it sometimes, too, only he must be much more used to it than you are.

“I have always cared for you,” he says. “Even when my brothers and sisters were punishing me for having another demigod child, I cared for you. I kept them from harming you. I made sure you reached Camp Half-Blood safely so that you could be under the protection of people who knew where you came from.”

“And they've been more like family to me than you have ever been.”

Hades closes his eyes. A god dejected. A god not getting what he wants. It's a rare but pleasant sight.

“I'd like to wake up now,” you mumble. “I appreciate you stopping in, but please never do it again.”

Hade's looks at you, and you hate the resemblance. You hate that pull, so mortal and familial. You can't even help it. It's like the genes you got from this man are desperate for you to just make up with him, to just see him as the dad he is.

But you can't.

He argues no further, clicking his fingers to send you out of your sleep. You awake, startled, eyes snapping open to the sight of your dark room, the smell of ash heavy in the air. You flick your eyes over to see your bedside table gone – yet again, you incinerated it in your sleep.

“Fuck sake,” you whisper.

“I put it out.”

You yelp, very nearly falling out of bed in your shock. Your head snaps up, hands grappling for your sword, only to pause when you look over and see Draco standing in the doorway wearing a white dress shirt and black trousers.

He looks exceptionally smart.

Exceptionally smart.

Your heart jumps as you push yourself up, running a self conscious hand through your bed head. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Chiron asked me to wake you. He said you have training today.”

You groan, flopping back into your pillows. Draco chuckles, and before you can tell him to stop, he strolls right over to your window and pulls the black out curtains open.

“Noooo,” you moan, rolling onto your stomach and stuffing your head in the pillows.

Draco chuckles. “Come on. It's already nine am. The climbing wall is gonna be packed if you don't wake up now.”

You peek an eye out of your pillow and glare at him. “How do you even know about the climbing wall?”

“Poseidon's son gave me a little tour after I left the infirmary yesterday; quite a nice little place you've got here, I must say. I'm quite fond of it all.”

“Oh, happy days. As long as you're happy.”

He grins, sharp as knives. “I feel like I'm on holiday.”

You swing your legs out of bed. “You're digging yourself into a deeper hole, Malfoy.”

“I can just sit back, kick my feet up, watch you lot fight a bunch of mythical creatures-”

You lob a sock at him. “Get out while I get changed.”

Draco grins before bowing out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.

And so you get ready for the day, getting dressed in your usual Camp Half-Blood shirt and a pair of comfortable jogging bottoms. The sun is bright this morning, a clear indicator that Chiron and the gods are in a bit of a better mood than they were yesterday, when rain was breaking through the already damaged seals of the camps barriers.

As promised, the climbing wall is set up and booming with Half-Bloods. People from all the different cabins take turns going up against one another, clambering up one side of the wall, racing each other to the top as lava pours down from nowhere, lightening strikes zap through the centre of the wooden beam, as random hands appear out of nowhere and make swipes for legs and arms and faces.

You spot Draco sat by himself in the stands, wand twirling in his fingers. It could very well be an intimidation tactic, but you stroll up beside him anyway, taking a seat to watch the scene before you unfold; someone from the Ares cabin has gone up against someone from the Athena cabin, a deadly pairing when put together.

Draco doesn't budge when you sit down. Instead, he points and says, “I think the one with the spear is going to win.”

“Clarisse?” you say. “Yeah, probably. She's a stubborn bitch.”

“Daughter of...”

“Ares.”

“God of...”

You roll your eyes. “Have you ever actually looked into the Greek myths?”

Draco shrugs, leaning back in his seat. He stretches his long limbs out in front and says, “I was educated more in the ways of Dark Magic than Greek myths.”

“Boring.”

“Necessary, I think.”

“Tell me how that all works.”

Draco glances over. “Magic?”

“The world of magic. It sounds. . . confusing.”

Draco pauses for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. As he ponders, the two of you watch Clarisse make her way to the top of the climbing wall, where she pulls the ring loose of it's confines and holds it up to the sound of applause and cheers from the people on the ground. She hops off, landing in a crouch on the ground; her brothers and sisters swarm her, all but lifting her off her feet in celebration.

Finally, Draco speaks. “It really is just a whole different world. Different to. . . any other world, I guess. We dress differently-”

“Yes.”

“The structure of the whole thing is different. You get used to it after a while, but I guess being here is making me realise just how weird the way things are run back home really are.”

“But it's what you're used to, isn't it?” you say. “You must have thought the way we did things was weird when you first arrived.”

Draco scoffs. “Skeletons coming up from the floor? Definitely weird.”

Your cheeks heat up, despite the lack of malice in his voice. Your powers are still – and forever will be – a sensitive topic for you; you've had far too many bad experiences with them to ever be comfortable flaunting them around like the other Half-Bloods are capable of doing. Even now, you watch the Hephaestus kids make fire sprout from their fingertips without so much as a flicker of hesitation – you've never been able to do that, because people take one look at what you're capable of and immediately think you're some kind of devil spawn, there just to drag them into the pits of hell or something.

Draco nudges you, pulling you from your trance. When you look over, he gestures towards the climbing wall. You follow his gaze to see Percy standing in the centre, waving up at you, arms wild above his head, that goofy grin on his stupid face.

“I think he wants you to join him,” Draco mumbles.

You glance over. “You don't mind?”

“I'll stay here and cheer you on. How about that?”

You stare at him a second longer, the wand twirling between his nimble fingers; oh, it would be so easy to hate him. That cocky smirk, the subtle hostility to everything he says. You weren't made to like wizards, but Draco Malfoy is starting to grow on you.

You give him a smile before hopping from your seat and jogging down into the grounds. People cheer at your arrival, because this is the match they have all been waiting for; scared as they may be to face your powers on their own, they would never give up the opportunity to watch two kids of the Big Three go head to head against one another. This is truly the only time you feel comfortable using your powers.

Percy shakes your hand when you reach him, dragging you close so he can whisper in your ear. “You and Dynamo getting a little close up there?”

You shove him away, not even giving him an answer before you hop up onto the first ring of the climbing wall. “You coming, Seaweed Brain?”

Percy rolls his eyes, taking position on the other side of the climbing wall. In the stands, a whistle blows, and immediately the two of you start.

Percy's quick. Percy has always been quick. From the day he strolled into camp, dragging Grover along with him, he has proven how powerful he is.

But you're also pretty quick, pretty lithe, just as capable as him.

You don't even fully process where he is, much too focused on avoiding the downfall of lava dribbling down the side of the climbing wall. The heat singes your hand as you pull yourself up, and you have to grit your teeth to stop the cry of panic that always wants to make it's way to the surface when this happens.

Percy has the advantage, of course; he just summons some water from thin air, and the lava is immediately overpowered. He laughs at your scowl, pulling himself further along the climbing wall.

“Okay, Mr Jackson,” you mutter. “If that's really how you want to play it.”

You pull on something within your stomach, a trick your sister Hazel was able to teach you when you visited her in the Roman camp all those months ago. You reach a hand out, grabbing the iron ore before it soars above your head after being ripped from the ground by your powers. It's not much – you're much better with a sword – but you throw it, using your powers to push it away from your body, straight towards Percy's face. It smacks him in the nose, making him cry and stumble. He slips from the ring he is hanging onto, dropping a few feet before finally latching onto another; blood oozes from his nose, and he glares up at you as you quicken your pace, hoping to put as much distance between you both as humanly possible.

“That wasn't very fair, you know!” Percy yells up.

“Gotta do what you gotta do!” you yell back, which of course prompts Percy to shoot a blast of water straight at your legs. You yelp, grip loosening on the ring you have grip on.

But then you're falling, because the thing about water is that it makes surfaces extremely slippery, and not even a child of Hades can overpower that. You desperately try latching onto something – anything – that can soften your fall, but your moving too quick, and the rings are zooming past, out of reach, and you know this is it. You're going to fall to the floor and break some bones and be out of commission for weeks, because that's what always happens when Percy gets competitive. You're starting to get real-

“Wingardium Leviosa!”

Another yelp is ripped from your throat, this one more a yelp of surprise as you suddenly become light as a feather. The wind stops whistling in your ears, replaced now by the gasps coming from the ground, and the sound of Percy yelling, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” over and over again.

Ever so gently, you are lowered onto the floor. As soon as your feet hit solid ground, you are engulfed by a crowd of Half-Bloods, all coming to make sure you're okay, have not been harmed despite that being the way of things in this place.

Percy clambers off the climbing wall and dashes to your side, wrapping you in a brotherly hug as soon as he reaches you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you that hard-”

“'Course you didn't.”

“You had it coming!” He points to his nose, still dripping blood. “Look what you did to me!”

You roll your eyes before craning your neck to get a better view over the heads of your fellow campers. You catch sight of him immediately, leaning against the stands with his wand still twirling in his fingers, the tiniest of smirks present on his pale face.

Your stomach turns; he had used his magic, cast some sort of spell to stop you from hitting the floor.

You probably need to thank him for that.

However, as soon as he meets your eyes, he does nothing but wink and turn on his heel, strolling oh-so-casually towards cabin eleven.

----

“So are you going to tell me what that was?”

You scream. Your hands fly above your head, knocking the low hung lamp shade dangling from the roof of the Hades cabin.

Spinning, you catch sight of your father stood in the corner of your room, shrunken down to the size of a normal human being. He likes playing pretend, apparently, but you see right through it. His dark eyes are narrowed, and leaning against the wall beside him is the scythe he so often carries around with him.

“That's an intimidation tactic,” you pant, motioning to the scythe. “It's not gonna work me on, Big Guy.”

“Don't ignore my question,” he snaps. “What did that boy do to you when you were falling?”

You slowly straighten up. “You saw that?”

“Answer the question.”

“Why do you think I have an answer?” you exclaim. “I know just as much about the wizarding world as you do! I don't know what he did, but I'm not dead, so I'm not gonna bother questioning it.” You grab a pomegranate seed from the bowl beside your bed, popping it into your mouth before you point a stern finger at the god standing in your room. “And you shouldn't either; he saved your child's life.”

“My children are capable of protecting themselves. That's how you were raised.”

You roll your eyes, flopping down on your bed. “This again? Where do you get off talking about raising kids?”

For a brief second, Hades pauses. You savour it, the moment his face twists into one of uncertainty, as if only just then realising where he has messed up; he can talk all he wants about his children and how you're all just like him, but he can never claim to have made you into the people you are today.

You hum, smirking. “That's what I thought.”

Hades snatches the bowl of seeds out of your hand and slams them back onto the bedside table. The room rattles much more than necessary, but you spare the trembling walls only a single glance before turning your attention back on your father. He glares down at you, no longer justifying your attitude with words. He's waiting patiently for you to just open up and tell him exactly what happened, waiting for you to just admit that what happened out there was messed up, and unnatural, and you will never see Draco ever again if you can help it-

“He saved my life.”

You believe it, even though it takes every fibre of your willpower to admit such a thing. Demigods don't just get saved. They do the saving. They live their lives getting trained to protect themselves, because they know nobody else will. Today, all those years of training disappeared, and you should have died. You should have fallen to the ground as punishment for your lack of concentration, but Draco had stepped in and given you a second chance.

And maybe that's dramatic. Maybe looking at it as a second chance was taking it a step too far, but he had done something, and you can't just sit back and pretend otherwise.

Hades straightens up. In mortal form, his full height is only around five foot nine, but he still manages to look intimidating. It's the eyes. You wonder if people think the same thing about you when you look at them.

“My brothers and sisters have been voicing their concerns about you getting too close to the Malfoys,” he says, voice softer now. “I told them not to worry, that no child of mine would ever fraternise with people like them. And yet here we are.”

You pause. “Here we are, yeah.”

“Lucius won't be happy to hear his son has helped save the life of a Half-Blood.”

“Lucius Malfoy won't be happy, period. Plus, I haven't even spoken to him the entire time he's been here.”You push yourself up into a sitting position. “Draco isn't like Lucius, Dad. They are two separate people, just like me and you.”

Hades clenches his jaw. You've hit a nerve. You always do when you bring up just how desperately you want to be separated from your father, just how much you despise being told you look like him, or you do something like him.

He looks at you with those dark eyes and says, “You're stubborn, you know. That's a trait you get from me, not your mother.”

“You're grasping at straws now.”

“You're more like me than you'll ever be willing to admit, but everyone sees it. Nico and Bianca. . . they had little traits of me within them, but not as much as you. You really are my child.”

Your stomach clenches, and it's confusing. It's so, so confusing, and so painful, because there's a part of you that basks in these comments. He's your dad. No matter how much you try denying it, there has always been a part of you that wants to know you're a little bit like your dad, and yet there's that hostility that begs and clambers for any excuse you can use to go against such a thing.

You look away, fighting the urge to cry that always seems to rise to the surface when Hades is in your vicinity. “Can you just leave, please? I'm not going to stop talking to Draco just because you lot upstairs have a grudge against his family.”

Hades sighs. “I know you won't. But you can't say I didn't warn you.”

“Get out, Dad!”

When you next look up, the room is empty. Nico and Bianca's beds are desolate, pushed against the wall, suffering from years of neglect. Once again, you are alone. Outside, Draco's shadow passes the window, accompanied by Lucius.

----

Draco seems to be getting comfortable in camp.

Your father doesn't like this.

You see, Hades has a very annoying way of making his anger obvious, especially when the anger is pointed towards his children. You will be sat talking to Draco, having a seemingly normal conversation about whatever the days endeavours are holding, when suddenly a scream will plunge right through the centre of your brain, impossible to ignore.

It's painful sometimes. The headaches that often follow are the kind that leaves you sweating, unable to look into any form of light lest you make it worse. Hades doesn't take this into consideration, however, as he continues giving you these flashes throughout the next week and a half.

It's another one of his stupid fear tactics. You know it is. He wants to make you suffer so you'll be on his side through intimidation, and you're not willing to give in to him like that. Gods don't always get what they want. That's something they need to learn.

And so, you continue talking to Draco, and honestly, he's starting to become a friend. He's still a little drawn back, and you can only imagine the reasoning behind that is because Lucius is breathing down his neck every two seconds. Whilst Draco is taking the moral high ground and getting used to life at Camp Half-Blood, Lucius refuses to do such a thing. He spends his days brooding away in the Big House, getting angry when Chiron or any of the other Half-Bloods step foot in what he has now claimed as his domain. The Big House has basically become Out of Bounds whilst the Malfoys are in your presence, because Lucius throws a tantrum any time anyone besides him and his fellow wizards step foot inside of it.

It's on day twelve that you and Draco sit together in the grass upon the hill. In your lap is a colouring book that Percy stole for you a few years back, one you haven't touched because you very rarely have the time to just sit down and colour something in. He said it got rid of stress or something like that. You wonder if it works.

Draco lays down beside you, gazing up at the baby blue sky. He has one hand cupped across his forehead, the other resting on his stomach. His ice blue eyes are a little lighter when the sun hits them, and you can see some golden streaks in his silver hair.

You colour in a picture of Poseidon, already excited to show Percy the final product.

“Look at this picture a second,” you say after too many minutes of silence. “Tell me if that guy looks like Percy.”

Draco flicks his gaze over, lifting his head just slightly to get a better view. “Percy?”

“The son of Poseidon,” you confirm. “The annoying one who blew up your fountain.”

“Oh, him.” Draco scowls, dropping his head back to the grass. “I suppose it looks a little bit like him, yes. Why?”

You tilt the colouring book back and forth, humming as you inspect the drawing; it's badly done, of course, with the image probably taken from Google Images, drawn by some human who didn't know any better. For example, they drew him wearing some fancy toga-looking thing instead of his usual khaki shorts and Hawaiian button-up. You've also known Poseidon to enjoy getting his hair permed, but his hair is dead straight in the colouring book.

“I just think Percy looks a lot like his dad,” you reply. “Not in this picture, obviously – Poseidon wouldn't be caught dead with his eyebrows looking like that. But in real life, I swear, they're the picture of each other.”

Draco grunts. Not exactly the response you were looking for.

You glance down at him, raising a brow. “Not gonna add anything helpful to the conversation?”

“What could I possibly add? I don't know the Greek gods personally.”

“Really?”

Draco glares at you. “Forgive me for not fraternising with mythological gods, Y/N. I don't have quite the same relationship with them as you do.”

You hold up your hands in faux surrender, recognising his angry tone. “Alright, fair enough. No need to get grumpy.”

“You and Percy are really close.”

It isn't a question, and you suppose it doesn't have to be. Anyone who has known you for more than two seconds will be able to see that you and Percy are close, having been through so much together. “Yeah, we are. What's wrong with that?”

Draco slips his hand from his forehead over his eyes and mumbles, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” But his heart isn't in it, and you're not exactly convinced he's telling the truth. You haven't known Draco all that long, but you're pretty confident now in your abilities to pick up when he's angry, or frustrated, as you have seen it more often than any other emotion.

You glance at him, raising a brow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes. Why would I think there was something wrong with you having a friend?” He pauses a moment before adding, “He is just a friend, isn't he?”

It clicks.

Your cheeks heat up with the realisation. You're thankful that Draco is covering his eyes, because otherwise he would have surely been able to see your shocked expression, and that isn't the look you want to give off right now; you need to remain calm and collected, make sure you're reading this right before you go and lose your cool.

Awkwardly, you push the colouring book onto the grass and turn your attention fully on Draco. He stiffens when he feels you move, though he doesn't look at you. He doesn't even move his hand away from his face. You wonder if perhaps he doesn't want to show you his true expression, either.

“Yes,” you say. “Percy is just a friend. He's never been anything more than that.”

“Oh right. Nice.”

“Would...” You inhale, glancing down into camp. You're not used to this. Actual emotions, they're scary things. You've never been able to properly handle them. “Would that be an issue if he was?”

This time, Draco is unable to hide his embarrassment. Beneath his hands, his pale cheeks flush red, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows and says, “No. It's none of my business.”

“Well, it's just 'cause, like, you asked, and I just thought-”

“Thought what?” Finally he looks at you, eyes narrowed. “Thought I cared about what you got up to when I'm not around?”

You reel back at his tone. “What? No! Well – yeah, I guess, because clearly some part of you cares-”

“You and Percy can do whatever you want.” He stands, wiping the grass from the elbows of his fancy black blazer. “I honestly couldn't care less. It's not like I'm sticking around much longer, anyway.”

You raise a brow. “Are you mad? How the hell did that happen? I didn't even say anything!”

“I'm not bloody mad.” He groans, spinning on his heel as he runs his hands through his hair. You don't even go after him, too stunned to even move. Instead, you just watch his retreating form, only for him to stop a few feet away, turn back and say, “Do you just forget the fact that he was about to let you fall to your death?”

You freeze. This was not the turn you were expecting the conversation to make. “Come again?”

“On that climbing wall,” Draco exclaims. “He watched you fall, Y/N! He didn't do anything to stop it from happening, and I refuse to believe he wasn't able to, because from what I've heard, he's one of the most powerful things in this bloody camp!”

“Things?”

“Oh, you know what I meant!”

You shoot up then, anger flooding your system. This is happening too often. You're losing your grip on the control you have trained so hard to gather, and it's all Draco's fault. “No, Draco, I don't actually know what you mean. In case you've forgotten, you're in our home, so don't you dare come in here claiming to know what we see is right and wrong. Percy might be one of the stronger demigods, but so am I. I can handle myself, and Percy knows that! That's the only reason he didn't do anything-”

“That's his excuse, is it?” Draco laughs, a bitter noise that makes your blood boil. “I wonder how long it took for him to brainwash you into believing that.”

That's what does it.

You remember all those times Percy has saved your life. You remember spending weeks by his side, on the run from the worlds most terrifying monsters. You remember crying with your belief that he was dead, imagining a life without your best friend, your companion.

And here Draco is, acting like he knows Percy better than you, deeming him a bad person just because of a single mishap he happened to witness, a mishap he doesn't even fully understand.

Behind you, the black cloud arises from the ground. Without even looking, you know it's there, consuming you in tendrils of darkness. Draco's eyes widen, a cry of surprise escaping him before he stumbles back.

The cloud follows him.

In your head, you listen to the screams of the souls that make up that cloud, the souls you can control with nothing more than a brief thought nowadays. Draco cries out, nearly falling over his feet. Soon, you can no longer see him as he disappears behind the black curtain.

You stay exactly where you are, watching him run down the hill, being chased by this power you have total control over. It's fuelled by anger, and you know you're going to get in trouble for doing it, but in this moment, you don't even care. You'll deal with the repercussions later, so long as Draco learns his lesson now.

It's once the young wizard has disappeared round the corner that you let the souls drop. They sink back into the floor, a rush of energy slamming back into your body now that the strenuous work is over. The hill you are standing on goes silent bar the sound of the snickering tree nymphs.

And then, just by your left ear, your fathers voice whispers, “Good job, Y/N. Definitely my child.”

----

Percy always knows when something is wrong with you.

There's something in the air, he says, a buzzing that he recognises as something he too possesses when he's angry. It's like the children of the Big Three communicate their anger through this weird little hum that only the other mistakes can hear.

He must notice it now.

He sits across from you at the lake, his toes dipping in the water as you keep your knees drawn to your chest, fingers sunk in the dirt. You keep your eyes on the tide as it sways in and out, but Percy keeps his eyes on you, waiting for the moment you will turn and look at him.

But you don't.

You don't want to answer his questions right now. You don't want to go into detail about what Draco said, about what you did to him, about how guilty you feel even though you know you shouldn't. You have used that scare tactic on so many people in the past, and it's always been for good reason – not once have you ever felt guilty about it.

Not until now.

Finally, Percy sighs and says, “So you're just gonna sit there and not tell me what's up?”

Leave it to him to be blunt.

You glance over and shrug, unsure where to even begin. You want to tell him the truth, of course; he's like a brother to you. The world always feels a little off when you're not telling him every little detail of your life. But gods, how do you explain this without sounding crazy?

“Do you want me to guess?” Percy continues, shuffling a little closer to you. “'Cause I'm good at that. Especially with you.”

“Try it.”

He hums, leaning back. “It definitely has something to do with the wizard boy.”

Your eyes snap up. “How did you know?”

“It's always about the wizard boy; you two have been joined at the hip since Chiron declared his residency here.” Again, he hums, continuing his analysis. His sea green eyes are narrowed, his lower lip protruding in a pout. “Did you two get into an argument?”

“Kind of.”

“Was he taking his fathers side?”

“No.”

“Was he insulting one of us?”

“...Kind of.”

Percy raises a brow. “So I'm getting warmer.”

You sigh, closing your eyes in exasperation. “He thought you and I were a couple.”

Percy pauses. It's now an awkward pause, especially considering he bursts into laughter not three seconds after. His shoulders jolt, eyes widening as he claps a hand to leg as if to stabalise himself. “You're kidding.”

“Alright, Seaweed Brain, hands off.” You push him away and fold your arms over your chest. “But yes, he thought you and I were a couple.”

“And that bothered you so much that you got into an argument with him and now you're huffing?”

You glare. “You're really enjoying this, huh?”

Percy nudges your shoulder light-heartedly. “I'm just messing. Tell me what happened.”

And so, as Percy gets comfortable, you begin your retelling, going into the details about Draco's little tantrum, and your retaliation to said tantrum. Percy interjects with a little “Aww” when you talk about defending him, to which you push his arm to get him to pipe down.

You feel even worse once the story has been spilled and you are able to see everything in hindsight; should you still be mad? Did Draco deserve that kind of torment?

Percy is silent for a moment once the story has been told. He looks off into the sea, as if calling to the waves for an answer, a piece of advice he can give you.

Finally, his wise mind comes up with, “That sounds shitty.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “It was.”

“Sounds like he fancies you.”

Your cheeks heat up. “I don't think so. Not any more, anyway.”

“And you're disappointed about that?”

You shrug, because you really don't know. It would be much less hassle if you weren't disappointed about it, but you can't deny that you don't enjoy the feeling of Draco being mad at you. It feels off. It feels like you've done something wrong, even though you don't think you have.

“You know,” Percy continues, “I feel a little guilty being the reason you two have fallen out. I wasn't even there and I'm still causing trouble.”

You scoff. “Yeah. You have a habit of doing that, don't you?”

“I can't help it.” He leans forward, nudging your arm. “What if I have a little chat with Draco?”

You perk up, stomach turning at the mere suggestion. “Oh Percy, no. . .”

“What do you think I'm gonna do?”

“Bully him. Make him hate me even more.”

“The fact that that thought bothers you so much just proves to me how much I need to step in and offer my expertise. Annabeth didn't fall in love with me for no reason, and you know that.”

You open your mouth to object, but the words fall short, because he has a point; out of everyone you've ever known, Percy is the one who has been able to keep up a healthy relationship the longest. He and Annabeth argue like cat and dog, yet they still give off the aura of two young people who are truly in love with another.

That's rare.

You slump back against a tree. “Just don't say anything stupid to him. Please.”

He's already standing up, brushing dirt off the seat of his trousers. “Of course not. Give me ten minutes. I'll have him seeing sense in no time.” ----

Draco tries his best to stop the panic.

It's an old habit, one he hasn't been able to kick. He sees a demigod, and immediately his heart starts beating really fast, and his stomach drops, and his fingers twitch in the direction of his wand. It's a self defence reflex, one that has been built into him from day one, but he's amongst them now, and he needs to stop it.

But seeing Percy Jackson walking towards him is never going to be a sight he's going to get used to.

Draco remembers that picture you were colouring in the grass the day previous. You said Percy looked just like his father, and Draco can see the resemblance now. From what little he knows about the true Greek god of the sea, he can tell just where that analysis came from; Percy's black hair, his sea green eyes, even the way he carries himself like he owns the place.

It screams My dad is a god.

Draco pulls his shoulders back and gives Percy his best game face, trying desperately to look like he knows what he's doing, like he hasn't been lost in his own thoughts from the moment you looked at him with that anger on your face. He hates that it affected him so much, that he can't get the image out of his head, that he wants nothing more than to storm over to the Hades cabin and apologise for ever upsetting you.

“Draco, my man!” Percy exclaims, though his heart clearly isn't in it. “How are you? Good?”

“Fine.”

Percy clicks his fingers, giving awkward finger guns. “That's good. So good.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around. Then, out of nowhere, he snaps his gaze down to Draco's and says, “So, I've been told there's a bit of trouble in paradise.”

Draco pauses. “Paradise? I'd hardly call this place paradise, Jackson.”

Percy raises a brow; it infuriates Draco, who is so used to his comments making people angry. Percy just seems amused. “Your accent really doesn't do my last name justice when you say it like that.”

Draco scowls. “What do you want from me, Percy? I've got nothing to say to you.”

“Well, no. You don't. Technically, I have nothing to say to you, either, but I'm a nosy little shit head, so here we are.”

“What makes you think I'll tell you anything?”

Percy grins and takes an abrupt seat next to Draco, shoving his shoulder like they've been best friends for years. “If you tell me what I want to know, I'll tell you what you-” He prods a finger into Draco's chest. “-want to know.”

Draco's heart hammers. He stares at the grinning demigod, debating whether or not to just jinx him here and now rather than let this absurd conversation go any further.

But then the options come into his head.

He has questions about you. Of course he does. You're just. . . a force to be reckoned with. You're such an individual, unlike any Draco has ever encountered in his life, and he wants to know more. Percy could be the key to having those questions answered.

He coughs into his hand before saying, “I suppose I can talk a little bit.”

Percy perks up. “Oh, really? Great! So what makes you think Y/N and I are a couple?”

Draco's cheeks heat up. “Y/N told you about that?”

“Y/N tells me everything. It's part of the whole being best friends thing.”

Draco shrugs, awkwardly glancing down at his hands knotted upon his knees. “It was a stupid assumption to make. I know that now. Just. . . at the time, with how close you both are, it seemed the most plausible thing to think.”

“Well, it was stupid.”

“Yes-”

“And did this assumption-” He says this with a snooty British accent that makes Draco glare even harder. “-piss you off?”

Draco pauses; here is where he could very easily trip up. He needs to choose his words carefully.

“Yes.”

Percy tilts his head. “Because you. . . love Y/N?”

“Love?”

Percy raises his hands in faux surrender, though there is a grin flashing across his face. “Sorry, sorry. Do you fancy Y/N?”

Draco swallows the golf ball sized lump in his throat; he wants to die. He literally wants to throw himself into the lake and never resurface. How has Percy managed to butter him up in less than fifteen minutes?

“I suppose,” Draco mutters. “They are very – um – attractive.”

“Big brain,” Percy says, nodding. “I get it, man. Smart people are hot.”

“Uh, yes. Yes, they are also very smart-”

“And scary.” Percy hollows out his cheeks, shaking his head at nothing. Draco is starting to get annoyed. “Y/N is terrifying, and let me tell you, when a person can intimidate me? Wow. Marry me on the spot, is what I say.”

“Why don't you just ask Y/N out then?”

The words come out harsher than Draco planned, but he can't help it. Percy is sat there, basically drooling over you, and it's driving him mad. It's been driving him mad from the instant he got that stupid thought stuck in his brain that maybe – just maybe – you and Percy were something a little more than just the best of friends.

Percy is grinning, though.

Draco scowls. “What's so funny?”

“You really like them, don't you?”

“I never said-”

“Personally, I wouldn't touch Y/N with a six foot pole,” Percy continues, which just makes Draco even angrier, and he no longer knows just what he wants. “I'm talking about my girlfriend, Annabeth. The blonde girl. Daughter of Athena.”

It takes a moment for Draco to remember who Annabeth is. But then it dawns on him, and suddenly everything is making sense.

His cheeks warm again. “Oh. Right.”

“Yep. So that's that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Nah, don't be. It's not me you need to apologise to.”

Draco bites his lower lip, understanding that Percy is right; he said some awful things, and he put you on the spot when you really didn't deserve it. You were doing nothing more than talking about your best friend, and Draco let his own jealousy push to the forefront.

He looks over at Percy to see the demigod grinning again, an expression he often seems to have. Draco wonders why you don't like him, why you decided to spend all those hours with him instead of Percy.

And as if Percy can read his mind, he says, “Y/N likes you too, you know. Like, properly likes you.”

Draco pushes up from the grass, gives Percy a grateful smile before heading out on his mission – to apologise.

----

You run into Lucius Malfoy shortly after Percy storms off.

It's quite a chance meeting, though part of you can't help but feel that maybe Lucius had it all planned out from the beginning. He holds himself like a man who knows exactly what he wants, like a man who doesn't understand what a chance meeting is.

You pause in the grass, watching him wade towards you. In your hand, you hold your sword, but that clearly isn't enough of an intimidation tactic against the tall, pale wizard. He stops only when he's feet in front of you, and with his posh accent, he says, “Y/N.”

“Mr Malfoy.”

“Where is Draco?”

“Beats me. He isn't my son.”

Lucius's nostrils flare. “Can you put that sword down whilst talking to me, please? It's disrespectful.”

You look at the celestial bronze blade and tilt it back and forth. The sun hits off the hilt, illuminating the Greek words inscribed upon it. “No. I quite like it in my hand.” You look back at Lucius and smile pleasantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr Malfoy? Are you lost?”

Lucius grits his teeth. Something throbs in his jaw, and honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he were to draw back now and punch you square in the face.

Or he could just cast a spell, or whatever it is wizards do.

“You know, Y/N, Draco has told me an awful lot about you,” he growls.

“Oh?”

“Yes. And quite frankly, the details he has given me only further prove my theory that your kind are just unnatural.”

He's only trying to wind you up. You keep that in mind as you stand before him, listening to him spew such hatred; you could so easily just chop him to pieces right now. You could end this for everybody, but you think of Draco and how he would react and that thought alone is enough to silence the violent thoughts before you lose grip on your powers.

“I'm sorry you think that,” you mumble. “Hopefully you'll be out of camp soon enough and won't have to bother with my kind for much longer.”

Lucius laughs. There's no humour in it. It makes you ill just listening to it. “He told me about your little parlour trick – raising the dead, is it?”

“Controlling the dead.”

“That's Dark Magic, dear. That's the devils work if I've ever heard of it.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the chance is ripped away by the sound of someone else's voice ringing in your ear.

“I don't really enjoy being called the devil. He and I are two very different legends.”

You close your eyes. “Dad, go home.”

He doesn't listen to you. Of course he doesn't. Instead, he steps up to your side and places a warm hand on your shoulder. When you look up, he's smiling at Lucius with the same pleasant smile you gave him only seconds before – the pleasant smile that hides the fact you're on the verge of murdering someone.

“Is there a problem here?” Hades asks.

“Who are you?” Lucius demands, and you very nearly laugh at his stupidity.

Hades actually does laugh at his stupidity as he motions between you. “Surely you notice the family resemblance?”

Lucius stares, and then it all clicks into place. His eyes widen, mouth dropping open in a look you can only label horror. He stumbles back and says, “Hades?”

“A god,” you pipe up. “So watch what you say. I can't hold this one back.” You turn to Hades with an exasperated look. “Who let you crawl out of Tartarus again?”

“Nobody lets me do anything, dear,” Hades replies, keeping his eyes on the horrified Lucius Malfoy. “I just heard what our little friend here was saying to you, and I thought I'd come and put him in his place. Can't have someone insulting my dear child, can I?”

“You've never intervened before.”

Hades pushes you backwards, ignoring what you've just said. “So, Lucius; would you like a little duel beforehand, or are you just going to let me end your life, plain and simple?” He pauses, and when Lucius doesn't reply, he adds, “There's no shame in taking the easy way out.”

“Dad-”

“Stay out of this, Y/N. This is between me and-”

“Dad? What's wrong?”

Your head snaps up. Draco is stumbling down the hill, eyebrows raised as he glances between Hades and his father. Your heart jumps at the sight of him.

“Draco, pack up your things,” Lucius demands, staring at Hades as if afraid to look away lest your dad make any sudden movements. “We're leaving.”

“Oh, happy days!” You rush forward and grab your fathers elbow, dragging him back as much as you can. “Did you hear that, Dad? They're leaving!”

“I'm not going anywhere.”

You whirl on Draco. “What do you mean you're not going anywhere? Can't you see the predicament we're in right now?”

Draco raises his brow, clearly still confused as to what the hell he has just walked in on. “Who is this?”

“This is my dad.”

Draco's skin pales even more, if that is even possible. Hades turns, gives the young boy a pleasant little wave before he starts rolling up his sleeves, eyeing Lucius up again.

“Oh, right,” Draco squeaks.

You turn your attention back to Hades, latching onto his arm yet again. “Come on, Dad. This is pointless. They're leaving camp-”

“Y/N, I'm not going anywhere before we talk.”

“Draco, this really isn't the time-”

“Make up your mind, Lucius. . .” Hades sing-songs. “Quick and easy, or slow and painful? I can do both.”

Your heart hammers in your chest; this is not how you wanted things to go, not at all. You wish to every other god listening that Draco will just agree to go with his father, that he will leave and never return.

But you don't really want that, do you?

“Curse you, Zeus, you mind-reading bitch,” you hiss beneath your breath.

Draco glances at you. “What?”

“Never mind.” You grab Draco's shoulders and shove him back. “Just go, Draco, please. My dad is going to-”

But you never get to tell Draco what your dad is going to do, not before Lucius Malfoy cries out, “Avada Kadavra!”

You don't understand what's happened; the words just yelled by the Malfoy man are unfamiliar to you, jibberish if you've ever heard it, but Draco cries out and dashes forward. A blinding flash of light slams makes you stumble before Draco's arms wrap around your waist, throwing you to the ground with him hovering over you. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from your own, but neither of you get to bask in each others closeness, because all hell has suddenly broken loose.

Hades is so powerful. Sometimes you forget that. You've read the stories, and you know he's a god, but sometimes, all he is to you is your annoying dad who shows up every now and then to be annoying, and then he leaves. Sometimes you forget he can literally raise the dead in two point six seconds.

And judging by the corpses now stumbling around you, that's exactly what he has done.

“Oh my god,” Draco mumbles.

You push him away and clamber to your feet. “Dad, stop!”

The wind is billowing, however, and your words fall on deaf ears. Lucius has fallen to the floor, staring up at your father with a look of pure, unfiltered horror. Hades stands over him, now in full god form, and the sight is breathtaking. He's at his full height now, standing over everyone with his arms outstretched. Dirt billows around him, and a black light emanates from his body, blinding if you weren't his child. Draco has fallen to the floor, covering his head with his arms, and you are so, so happy he has the common sense to look away.

You stumble forward, latching onto your fathers clothes. “Dad, stop this now! Please!”

“How dare you?” Hades's voice shakes the trees. His eyes are pitch black. He is a god. “How dare you use your filthy wizard spells against my child?”

“I'm fine!” you cry. “Dad, I'm fine! Draco saved me! Look!” You helplessly wave your arms over your head. Beside you, a corpse laughs a high pitched laugh. You glare at it and say, “Shut up.”

The wind only grows stronger as Hades continues to bellow his threats and his curses. Lucius is too stunned to even move. Behind you, Draco cries out your name, tries reaching for your sleeve, but you pull away and continue yelling up at your father, trying to make him see sense.

“Dad, I'm fine! If you kill him, I'll never forgive you!” You grapple for something else, some other excuse you can use. “I'll – I'll never come back to Camp Half-Blood! I'll stay in the mortal world forever and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!”

Hades falters. He glances down at you with those dark, sunken eyes and he says, “You know you're not safe there, Y/N. Don't joke about such things.”

“Then let him go,” you beg. “Please, Dad. I never ask you for anything, but I'm asking – begging – you for this. Just let him go.”

Hades tilts his head. “You're standing up for this piece of dirt?”

“Draco,” you pant, as if that is enough explanation. “Draco just saved my life, Dad. The least you can do is spare his fathers life.”

The wind dies down. Dirt topples back to the floor. The walking corpses drop to their knees before the soil reaches around them and drags them back into their graves, where hopefully they will remain for another few years. Slowly, your father shrinks back down to his usual five seven stature, his eyes gaining their normal dark colouring again. He continues staring.

You stare back for only a second before you spin on your heel and march towards Draco. You yank him up by his collar and shove him back, hissing, “Go grab your stuff and get out of here. This is the shit you're gonna get wound up in if you stay. You don't deserve that.”

Draco, flustered, grabs your shoulders and pushes back, keeping himself rooted to the ground. You want to cry. You need him to leave. You need him to be safe. You can't let him witness something like that ever again.

“Please, Draco,” you croak out. “Save yourself the bother-”

“You're crying.”

You groan, quickly swiping beneath your eyes to rid yourself of the tears you didn't even realise were falling. “No, I'm not.”

Draco wraps his arms around you and drags you into his shoulder. You don't really know why you melt into him in the way you do; it just kind of happens. Feeling the fabric of his shirt against your cheek, his arms around your shoulders, his body against yours – it's as if all the stresses of the evening flood out of you in a single swoop, replaced by a relief you didn't even know you were in such dire need of.

It's like Hades and Lucius don't even exist any more. It's just you and Draco, swaying back and forth in the darkness, saying nothing and that being enough.

“I'm not going anywhere,” he whispers. “Not until you know.”

You pause, but don't pull away. “Until I know what?”

“That – That you're special.”

You look up, raising a brow. “Is that a demigod joke?”

Draco groans, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “No. That's not what I meant. I meant – like – you're special to me.”

“Okay...”

He squeezes his eyes closed. “What I'm saying is, I don't want to leave you. I don't want to go back to the wizarding world and pretend I never met you. I want this – whatever this is – to last a long, long time.”

Your heart thunders in your chest. Beneath you, the ground rumbles, like the floor is hungry. “Draco...”

“I don't care what my father thinks of it,” he says, voice lower now. “I haven't been this happy in forever. I haven't met anyone like you before, and I'm so, so grateful you don't hate me.” He blinks. “Percy told me that, by the way – that you don't hate me. He wasn't lying, was he?”

You laugh. “No, he wasn't lying.”

“Oh, great.” He pulls you closer. “So, as I was saying-”

“Oh, for the love of me!” Hades claps his hands impatiently. “Just kiss them already, you idiot! Why do mortals take so long to get to the point?”

Draco looks over your shoulder, face going red. “Are you giving me permission to kiss Y/N?”

Hades rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes. Just get on with it. I'm ageing.”

“You're immortal, old man.”

“Watch your mouth, little one, or you're grounded.”

Your laugh is broken by Draco's kiss.

In the background, Lucius yells in frustration, but he quietens as soon as he looks at Hades. You don't even care, though, because once again, it's like neither of them are really there. It's just you and Draco. There is no world separating you, there is no problems, you are the same. His hands trail along your jawline before crawling over the back of your neck, holding you in place, as if you would ever willingly pull away.

Beneath you, the ground continues to growl. You imagine it's the dead people giving you a round of applause.

---

“Lumos.”

You crack an eye open. Beside you, Draco shifts, lifting the covers further over his head. Through the thin material of the quilt, you can make out a dim yellow glow coming from Draco's wand.

You roll onto your back, nudging his arm with your elbow. He pauses, taking a few seconds before he pulls the covers back down, revealing his messy bed head and bare torso. He gives you a grin and says, “What are you doing awake?”

“You woke me,” you reply, before nodding towards the book resting on his lap. “What's that?”

“Oh, this? Nothing. Just a little book I picked up from the library the last time I was at Hogwarts.”

You raise a brow; you haven't seen Draco casually read in quite a while. Any time he has his head stuck in a book, it's usually to learn some new potion, or some new spell that he can show the harpies to impress them when they ask for a magic show. However, looking down at the book currently perched on his knees, you can see this isn't just some simple recipe book for wizards – the pages are filled with text, with very little pictures to accompany them.

“Can I read it with you?” you ask.

Draco's cheeks light up. “Maybe you should just go back to sleep. It's pretty late-”

He goes quiet when you rest your drowsy head on his chest, tugging the quilt up to your chin. You hear him sigh, a noise of content before he looks down at the page and places his wand beneath the words. In bold at the top is the title Hades and Persephone.

“Oh, my mum hated her,” you say.

Draco chuckles. “I can imagine.”

You trace your eyes over the words. You can't really make them out with your dyslexia, but Draco reads them for you, because he knows. He reads the story of your father and his true wife, pausing to ask you your opinions, or if you know anything about any of it. You tell him you don't, but you want him to keep reading, so he does, and together you learn about your father and his ways.

Finally, when Draco reaches the end of that particular story, you look up at him and say, “Why are you reading this?”

He shrugs. You don't buy it, though, and continue waiting for his response. He rolls his eyes at your patient silence and says, “Remember when you asked me if I'd ever read any of the Greek myths?”

You raise a brow. “Yes...”

“I hadn't read any of them. But I realised it's kind of part of your history, isn't it? These myths, the people and things you talk about. If I really want to understand you, I have to get familiar with a few of these terms, don't I?”

A lump forms in your throat. “You're reading these for me?”

“Of course.” He slams the book closed and says, “Quiz me. I can tell you who Demeter is right now.”

You stare at him a moment longer, overwhelmed beyond words. Instead of giving Draco a pop quiz on all things Greece, you reach up and press your lips to his own, whispering the unknown words of “I love you,” against his mouth.

Draco chuckles, the sound like music to your ears. “I love you, too.”

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heroes-r-us · 4 years

Note

Can I get an Endeavor soulmate story you can pick what type I'm not fussy I just haven't seen any don't yet and Endeavor deserves some love. Maybe just a little he is trying

I literally saw this and fucking squealed. It's been so long since I've written anything and you know my dumbass refuses to practice so shitty headcanons here we come.

I read this one au on Ao3 where the soulmate was represented through a mandrake thing. SO I'm gonna poorly explain this, and link the author at the end so y'all can read her stories. (It's One Piece fanfics actually lmao)

SO- from what I've read, it seems as though there is a ritual at graduation. You place a bowl down on an alter-like place and pour milk into it. Then, the mandrake root is placed in. Once fully submerged, you prick your finger, and add two drops of your blood to the mix.

A miniature version of your soulmate will appear. They're called mandrakes and they typically can't speak, however they can use hand motions and other things to express themselves. They also seem to have the same abilities your soulmate has, including things like powers, weapons and clothes. Mandrakes act sort of like an adjustment period. You can get to know your soulmates habits, likes, dislikes, talents, hobbies and more. Unfortunately the mandrake has no memories of things that your soulmate has done.

I personally LOVE this idea and the author really delivers the cutesiest shit. It's literally so adorable. The mandrakes are so fuckin smol. About three inches I think. My hEART-

ANYWAY SO I REALLY WANNA WRITE OTHER CHARACTERS AS MANDRAKES!! (COUGH FEEL FREE TO SEND SOME CHARACTER SUGGESTIONS- though I'll still probably do some anyway.)

The fanfic I so rudely borrowed this from---->

-----

-Having been born and raised in America, it was no surprise you hadn't met your soulmate yet. Afterall it was a massive country.

- After graduating two years ago you had hopes that you'd immediately find your soulmate and be able to experience what it felt like to meet your second half.

-It was clear that this was not going to be your fate.

- Sometimes your mandrake would disappear for days at a time, only to return as though he hadn't been gone in the first place.

- The first few times your Little ball of sunshine had disappeared you cried. You knew you could perform the ritual again, but after having one mandrake for so long, you were pretty attached.

- He didn't really appreciate your clinginess.

- But he was absolutely determined to be a helper when he wasn't going off god knows where.

- In the morning he'd be the one to turn on the coffee pot, grab your mail and jump on your face until you FINALLY got up for work.

- You'd make him his own mini breakfast (something you still find immensely cute.)

- There was a store in the mall nearby purely for mandrakes. Needless to say you were more than a little worried about paying rent after that

- You also enjoyed teasing the cutie. Calling him sweet, cute or tiny only served to piss him off. If you managed to make the little bastard angry enough he'd quite literally turn into a ball of flames. 🔥

- He never burned you, though he had no qualms about biting you, should you coddle him too much.

- You found the lack of intimacy (no. No giantess porn you fuckin weirdos) concerning. He never wanted to cuddle or even sleep in the same bed.

- After you bought a mandrake sized bed for him he started sleeping on your nightstand instead.

- this distance worried you. Would your own soulmate be that distant? You could only wonder.

----

- Endeavor had been one of few graduates in his class who never did the Mandrake ceremony.

- He didn't care about that shit, and he most certainly didn't want 'fate' to tell him who would be the mother to his children.

- Only he controlled that.

- He wondered, on rare occasions, what his mandrake may have looked like should he have taken part in the ritual.

- Those sort of thoughts plagued him most while resting in that damn hospital bed.

- He knew that you, wherever you were, weren't responsible for his actions. You weren't the one telling him to focus on becoming Japan's top hero. And you most certainly weren't the one telling him to not perform the ritual.

- There was a fear in him on graduation day. Not that he'd ever admit it, but it was there. It was a common fear.

- The fear that once you added those drops of blood... There wouldn't be a mandrake to come out of the bowl to greet you.

- The fear that you were one of few to not have a soulmate.

- He couldn't be burned if he never attempted.

- But now... He was older, things in his life that he fought to control were slipping loose, and though he technically met his goal, he wasn't happy. It didn't go the way he wanted it to.

- His son was...rebelling. His now ex-wife was finally searching for her own soulmate, and his pride along with his face was damaged.

- Among all these things, he could only think that his heart must have softened.

- He didn't like to think about it.

- When he got home, he mulled over the thought for a long while. Before finally deciding to try his hand at the ceremony.

- He didn't need some damn priest to help him. He just needed to know if there was someone out there. If there was. Fine.

- If there wasn't, then that meant he had made the right call after all. Either that or his soulmate had died. Both were possibilities he was willing to cope with.

- once it all was set up, he found that same small seed of doubt planted in his head.

so, he found something else important to do.

- Paperwork, he should finish that first. Then he could figure this shit out.

- Three days passed with little change and he knew he'd need to get around to it eventually. He knew he was procrastinating. Which, in his eyes, is a form of weakness. He refused to be weak.

- With that thought he finally managed to complete it.

- He kept glancing at the clock. Back down to the bowl. To the clock, to the bowl.

- After five excruciatingly long minutes, he stood, stretching, and completely refused to feel even slightly upset.

- No. This was a good thing, he convinced himself. He didn't need or want a soulmate. He closed his eyes. They would only complicate matters more and-

- All it took was the sound of the bowl colliding with the ground for his eyes to snap open.

- There it stood, in all it's mandrake glory, rubbing it's eye as though awaking from a nap.

- It- no, she looked up at him, and studied him for several moments.

- She seemed to deem him safe and reached towards him with tiny, outstretched arms and encouraged him to pick her up.

- Slowly, and quite curiously, he kneeled to the ground and opened his palm for her. She hopped onto his open palm with excitement, only to trip over her own feet.

- He sat on the floor and crossed his legs while you attempted to right yourself.

- This changed things. Even though it wasn't supposed to. Even though this was just out of curiosity. Learning what you looked like shouldn't matter that much.

- He didn't expect that small nervous smile after you stood

- Or the way you twisted your hands anxiously as though waiting for some words from the giant man who would be your humanself's soulmate.

- He most definitely didn't expect for you to form a small ball of water to play with when it became clear that he wasn't going to talk to you.

- there was one thing that he now began to realize however.

- When you had smiled and proudly presented three orbs of water, it was confirmed.

- This had to be one of the worst damn things he could have done. Because if he hadn't, he wouldn't be searching through the files of his office for anyone who looked like you.

- And he most certainly would not be stressed about where you were. What you were doing. Were you with someone else? Why were you so damn clingy?

- And it was worse when he finally DID get a lead. Because had he not done this, he wouldn't be buying a plane ticket to America.

Okay!, I hope this was good! It's been so long since I've written 😢. Also I know this a rather weird soulmate au so feel free to Bash me in the comments for it hah.

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cherryblossomstars · 4 years

Text

I. Oxford (W. Ushijima)

Taken from my AO3 series of one-shots & reposted here

Pairing: Ushijima x F!Reader

Word count: 2,636 (oops)

Genre: Fluff/Kinda crack

Summary: Aoba Johsai's volleyball team has never been able to defeat the Great Ushiwaka of Shiratorizawa. Their manager, however? She can bring him to his knees in mere seconds.

Or, Ushijima Wakatoshi is helplessly in love with Seijoh's Ace's twin sister, and the Aoba Johsai VBC is not appreciative of it.

"Oh, really? When's your next practice match? I'll try to make it." You talk into your phone and you practically send the hinges on your twin brother's door flying.

Hajime lays on his bed and looks up at you from his phone with an annoyed face. You ignore the threatening glare being sent your way, and flop yourself onto his stomach. He groans quietly, trying not to interrupt your call, and tries to shove you off. His efforts, however, are futile and he eventually accepts his death by his sister's hands (or, more accurately, stomach).

Oikawa, who was sitting on the floor of your darling brother's room, looks away from the video game he was playing on the TV to send you a questioning look.

"Friday. Can you go?" Your boyfriend, the eternal rival of the man sitting on the floor, responds.

"Mm," You hold the phone slightly away from your face, "Hajime, did I have anything planned on Friday?"

"How the hell would I- oh, yeah, movie night." He answers.

You scrunch your face up and put the phone back against your ear, "what time's the game?"

Oikawa and Hajime immediately groan when they connect two and two together, realizing you were talking to none other than the great Ushijima Wakatoshi himself.

"She can't go!" Oikawa yells, "movie night's actually gonna be all day!"

"Then... why is it called movie night..." Your boyfriend asks. You can practically see the tilt of his head and the furrow of his brows.

"Ugh, ignore him," you stick your tongue out at your captain and lightly push your foot against his head, which he was leaning against the bed frame.

I will bite you Oikawa mouths at you.

Fucking try it you scowl at him.

He purses his lips and instead turns back around to play on your brother's Switch.

"So, what time's the game?" You ask again.

"If you will be watching movies with your team, then-"

You sigh, "seriously, what time is it gonna be? If it's before it starts then I'll be able to make it. Might have to leave early, though."

"Four thirty." He responds.

You hum in thought, "hmm... Movie night's gonna start around six. Think it'll last that long?"

"Maybe."

"If you finish early, wanna join?" You bite back a laugh when you watch Hajime and Oikawa's heads snap towards you. Oikawa looks like he might pass out at the thought of Wakatoshi crashing an Aoba Johsai movie night, and Hajime is furiously shaking his head at you.

"I'm not sure your team would like that." Wakatoshi concludes.

You lightly laugh, "you're right, they wouldn't, but that's why I'm asking."

"What kind of manager are you?! Traitor!" Oikawa yells in distress. "Gimme that!" He makes grabby hands at your phone.

You hold him back by pressing your foot against his head, "I'll be there, Toshi. See you then. Love you."

"See you then. I love you too." Click

You put your phone down and turn your focus to your two toddlers boys. Oikawa has once again paused his game and Hajime isn't sure if he's willing to intervene the stare down going on between you and your team captain. You try to crack a smile, but he's still not impressed.

"Zumi-Chan..." He rests his chin on the edge of the bed and pouts at you, "why would you do that?"

You can't help but internally coo at the face he's making at you. You sit up, finally releasing your brother from death by crushing, and run your fingers through his hair. "Sorry, Oikawa, you know I didn't mean it."

He sits up and leans towards you, "finally gonna profess your undying love for me?"

Your eye twitches and before you can respond, a pillow hits him smack in the middle of his face and he falls back onto the floor. "O-ow! Iwa-chan... So mean..."

"Stay the hell away from my sister, Kusokawa." He threatens, holding up another pillow in preparation for another unwarranted comment.

He puffs his cheeks out, "I know, I know." He takes one of the joy-cons off and waves it in front of you, "in the mood for a round of Smash? Iwa-chan's trash." Another pillow comes flying at him, but he effectively dodges it. Hajime takes another pillow from his bed and, instead of throwing it this time, just whacks him with it. Oikawa is only able to let out a whimper and crawls onto the bed, situating himself behind you.

You can't help but laugh out loud, "Oiks, you only call him trash cause you're a really sore loser."

"Not true!" He hands you a joy-con. "Now, c'mon. Let's play. You guys bought all the DLC and I wanna play as Joker."

"Prepare for a shameful defeat." You smirk and choose your character.

"Isabelle? Zumi-chan, you honestly choose the most awful characters." He huffs.

You shrug, "yeah, I know. It's gonna be a lot more humiliating if you lose to Isabelle. Prepare to get your ass handed to you, Oiks."

Until your third year at Kitagawa Daiichi, your world had been blue. Kitagawa Daiichi's school colors had been blue. Your brother and Oikawa have always worn blue. Those two had been your whole life. Hajime, your twin brother, who you loved dearly. When you were born, you were literally born blue. Because you were a weak baby, the nurse had stuck your twin into the same incubator as you. This resulted in an almost immediate improvement in your health, and the both of you are rarely seen apart. Oikawa, your brother's best friend (and also therefore yours), whose soul cannot be described as anything but a bright, burning blue flame has never failed to be there for you, either.

Your world has always been surrounded by blue. Aoba Johsai's colors were white and blue for God's sake. It's a color you've grown to love. It was familiar, it had an all-enveloping warmth. When you thought of the people and the things you loved, you'd have to think of the color blue, too.

And then Shiratorizawa brought in their new cannon, Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Being a star volleyball player yourself, you had been too busy with your own games and tournaments throughout your middle school career to make it to a lot of the boys' volleyball games to support Hajime and Oikawa. You'd heard complaints about the Great Ushiwaka from not only Oikawa, but the whole volleyball team. The first time you'd actually seen Ushiwaka in person was on the court against your junior high in your third year.

With the third year of junior high came the great Ushiwaka, who crashed into your life and completely and unapologetically shattered your blue world. With him came a drop of maroon, and suddenly everything was different.

Kitagawa had lost. Oikawa was beyond upset, but swore he would defeat Ushiwaka one day. You waited at the gymnasium's foyer for the boys' volleyball team to finish their huddle so you could comfort your friends.

Shiratorizawa had finished their huddle first and began to leave. While most of them had already left the building, there you stood right in front of the gym's entrance and pointing a finger at the ace of the opposing team. Said ace still recalls this memory fondly, since it was the first time the both of you had met.

"You're awful." You had said with an accusatory finger pointed directly at his face.

The stolid face of Ushijima Wakatoshi had broken into one of shock. This girl, who was wearing a Kitagawa volleyball jacket and had to practically tilt her head at a ninety degree angle just to look at him, had just called him awful.

"I apologize if I have upset-"

You dropped your hand to rest on your hip. "Your spikes are ridiculous. It's obvious your setter was having a hard time keeping up with you. You need to be more consistent with your spikes. And your form needs some fixing too. If you're able to maintain your form, you're open to a lot more options while you're still in mid-air."

He tilts his head, "why are you giving me advice? I am your enemy."

You shrugged, "volleyball is volleyball. As a setter myself, it pisses me off when your spikes and your setter's sets aren't connecting well."

"You are a setter?"

You nodded, "yep." A smirk made its way to your face, "that said... You're actually really impressive. No, actually you're incredible. Especially in middle school. You've got more room for improvement, but seriously... I've never seen an ace like you before. Good job out there today."

"You are not upset I defeated your team?" He was normally confused in the manners of other people's feelings, but you were another anomaly entirely.

"You've got amazing skills. Sometimes it just can't be helped." You explained. "Don't get me wrong though. I'm upset that my team is upset. But as for the loss itself... it was a fair game. It's not like you cheated." You see Hajime and Oikawa enter the foyer. "Sorry, gotta go. But consider what I said, 'kay?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Oh! I'm Iwaizumi [Name], by the way. I'll be going to Aoba Johsai next year."

He furrowed his brows, why was she telling him this? "I'm Ushijima Wakatoshi. I will be attending Shiratorizawa next year."

"Good." You begin to walk off, hands in your jacket's pockets, "I'd better see you at the spring high tournament next year, then. See you around, Ushiwaka."

Ushiwaka. Ah, so she's friends with Oikawa. "Set for me."

You spun around, "eh?"

"Set for me. You told me what I need to improve on and that my setter is having trouble keeping up with me. You said you are a setter."

"W-Well, yeah, but..."

"Then set for me. You want to improve as a setter, and I want to improve as an ace."

What Hajime and Oikawa don't know won't kill them. You held your hand out, and he gave you his phone. You quickly typed it in. "I'm usually free on weekends. I have morning practice on Mondays and Thursdays, so I'm free after school then. Afternoon practice on all the other weekdays. I'm out by six thirty on those days. Got it?"

He didn't, but he nodded anyway.

And thus, you were given the title of Ushiwaka's favorite setter.

Regardless, it was still hard to deal with the malice of Shiratorizawa when you went to their practice games. You were sticking out like a sore fucking thumb. You had come after school, meaning you were still in your Aoba Johsai uniform. You had gotten permission to be on campus, of course, but the intimidation just came with being from a rival school. You stood on the balcony, watching the boys stretch before their practice match. You gave a little wave to your boyfriend when you made eye contact, which he returned with a small smile. Tendou Satori watched him with confusion before turning to what he was looking at. When he noticed you, he excitedly waved at you.

"[Name]!" He yelled, a bright smile taking over his face. His exclamation caused not only the Shiratorizawa volleyball boys to turn to look at you, but the other team turned in curiosity as well. You mentally face palmed and felt your face grow red.

You gave a sheepish wave and the Shiratorizawa boys greeted you with glee before getting yelled at by Coach Washijo.

The first part of the game went well, but at the beginning of the second set the opposing team's setter landed the wrong way and hurt his ankle really badly. With him being the only setter, the opposing team wasn't sure what to do. Both they and Shiratorizawa wanted to continue, but without a setter...

"Iwaizumi, can you set?" Coach Washijo called from the floor, turning to look at you. Consequently, so did everyone currently on the gym floor.

"Eh? Me?" You pointed at yourself, "but... Um, I'm a girl."

"It's a practice match." He said matter-of-factly.

"I-Uh-I'm in uniform." You refute.

"You can't set in your uniform?" He asked.

Your eye twitches, "but... Why not make Eita-san set for them?"

"We need our pinch server." Ah, damn. You're out of rebuttals.

"Yeah, sure, I can set." You answer. "I guess." You mutter under your breath and make your way downstairs.

You strip off your school jacket, sweater, and tie and put on a practice jersey.

"Should you be playing in a skirt?" Tendou brings up.

"It's fine. I won't be jumping high enough for me to flash you guys, anyway. Besides," you smirk, "if you're paying attention to that, then your eyes aren't on the ball."

You turn to the team you will now be playing for, introducing yourself.

"Iwaizumi?" One of the players asks, "like the ace from Seijoh?"

"He's my twin brother." You explain.

"And you're a setter, huh? Good matchup. Did you learn from Oikawa, then?" He continues.

"Yeah, actually. I got into volleyball because of them. Everything I know about setting is because of Oikawa." You really hope your praise doesn't somehow make it's way to Oikawa himself. You didn't need to raise his ego any more.

"That's amazing! Let's do this, then." The team captain sets out the plan.

While Shiratorizawa had taken the first set, the addition of you on the opposing team had allowed your side to take the second set. Tendou had called you a traitor at the end of the second set. They had taken back the third set, anyway.

You were a few minutes late to movie night with the Seijoh team, but you shot the Seijoh groupchat a quick explanation before the third set began. Wakatoshi offered to walk you home, which you gladly accepted.

"You are my favorite setter." He says to you.

"Don't let Shirabu or Eita hear you say that." You joke.

"I think you have the same effect on me as Oikawa has on his own team." He explains to you.

You look at him in shock, "that's... that's a serious compliment, Toshi. Thank you." You've always looked up to Oikawa as a fellow setter. His skill was unparalleled. People could say he wasn't a genius or a prodigy, but he more than made up for it with the hard work he put into his career. Oikawa Tooru is what every setter wants to be. Sure, that first year from Karasuno (Kadokawa? You can't remember) could set with pin-point accuracy, but Oikawa's leadership skills and experience far outclassed his. Not to mention his charisma.

"Or perhaps it is because I simply trust you with everything I have." He brings up.

"Oh, so it's not because I'm a good setter." You jokingly pout, but when you gaze up at him he has a hint of a teasing expression on his face.

He simply hums in response and the both of you stop in front of your house. Before you can even open your mouth to say something, your front door bursts open.

"There she is!" Oikawa yells, standing in front of the doorway with the rest of the Seijoh team standing behind him, barely in view. His eyes narrow at the man standing next to you. "You."

You roll your eyes, "go back inside, Oiks. I'll be right there."

"You're already half an hour late." Matsukawa mentions.

"Seriously, do you have any manners? You even brought Ushiwa-"

"Maki, seriously? Right now?" You groan and turn to face Wakatoshi once again. "The band of idiots require me. I'll see you next time, Toshi. Love you." You press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"I love you too." He waves to you as you walk inside the house. When the door shuts, he walks off and touches his lips with a soft smile.

Fin.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #shiratorizawa #aoba johsai x reader

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percedurza · 3 years

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I HAVE ALREADY SPOKE ON LENGTH ABOUT THE PRINCE OF EGYPT BUT NOT THE WHOLE THING ONLY THE PLAGUES AND MOSTLY PASSOVER. I JUST WATCHED THE FULL MOVIE FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE I WAS A KID IM GONNA TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN BECAUSE IT WAS SO GOOD. OKAY.

okay let me first say that i was in tears within the first ten minutes of the movie. deliver us was so powerful and heartbreaking i cried BEFORE THE TEN MINUTE MARK. yeah.

when moses' mother sang her final lullaby to her son and pushed him downstream in that (blessed and very fortunate) basket my heart hurt. i cried with her. that was the last time she would ever see her baby.

when his sister sang her prayer for her baby brother, wishing for him to come back to deliver them as well, that just drove the nail in harder.

in a later scene before the banquet you can hear moses humming that last lullaby and since deliver us was just maybe ten minutes prior you remember it and realize he really did keep that final song.

and the banquet oh yeah ramesses gets appointed this big title? and he names moses as the grand architect

and theres this captured hebrew lady brought in for ramesses but shes fierce (i would be too, she was captured and brought to the people she hates the most) and so ramesses orders her to be brought to moses' chambers instead

moses goes to his chambers and suprise! she escaped! moses chases after and sees her sneaking out with her camel and distracts some guards so she wont get caught and once the guards are gone he goes after her again aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand

miriam (moses' sister) meeting him in the city streets and recognizing him, telling him he's her family and him shutting her down and calling her a slave.... it hurt. when she hums that lullaby and he RECOGNIZES and then rushes back home to have a dream about that day he was sent away (in beautiful animation designed to look like the hieroglyphs on his wall) its all so painful to watch him be forced out of nowhere to realize his life is a LIE because hes not a true prince of egypt, he's born of the slaves, and then his father the pharaoh justifies the order to slaughter innocent babies by saying "they were just slaves" and OUGH

moses kills a man. unintentional but he killed a man while trying to stop him from beating a slave. oops.

he cant live with this so he runs away into the desert. theres this scene where he collapses to the ground and sheds all of the jewelry and adornments from his life as royalty but as he takes off the ring ramesses gives him, he looks at it. and slowly puts it back on. because no matter what, he still loves his brother, and he always will.

moses falls into a well. yeah. chases off some ruffians and then basically faints and falls in. these girls the ruffians were harassing started pulling him out and SURPRISE SURPRISE the captured lady from the banquet is there and she drops him back in when she recognizes him and walks away all smug and her name is tzipporah! just an fyi (very pretty name love it)

moses basically gets adopted into the group of hebrews and moses says something about not ever having done anything of worth and so tzipporah's father jethro sings a little tune to him!

through heavens eyes is a masterpiece. i really dont know what else to say also i want jethro to be my dad hes so nice

aaanyway moses and tzipporah get married during the through heavens eyes montage! i just think thats nice

OKAY now juicy stuff the BURNING BUSH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the scene in which moses encounter the burning bush and god.

god claims that he has seen his people (the hebrew slaves) suffering and cannot stand for it any longer, so he wishes to send moses as a sort of ambassador of god

and moses doesnt think hes worthy of being god's messenger, which god quickly shuts up by pointing out how he's kind of, like, GOD

and he teaches moses those big old words, "LET MY PEOPLE GO" wahoo!!!!!!

he rushes home to tell tzipporah, and shes like "but ur just one dude" and hes like "well i kinda have to also the hebrews are suffering in slavery so :////"

tzipporah and moses head on over to meet ramesses and theyre all excited to see each other and then moses is like "behold the power of god!!!!!!" and his staff becomes a snake. pretty gnarly if i do say so myself

and then the high priests are like "ok" and start basically performing and rapping the names of the egyptian gods at moses in response i really dont know how to describe it but its basically a whole lotta smoke and mirrors. not actual miracles

moses talks to ramesses and asks him to let his people go, and instead doubles the slave's workload. the slaves basically hate moses now because yeah he technically is the reason theyre getting pushed harder and even his own brother aaron seems to loathe him. miriam talks to moses and he sees ramesses' ship gliding down the nile nearby

he calls out to ramesses and he just sends his guards after him. and so moses brings the staff down and turns the river to blood.

THEN THE REST OF THE PLAGUES ENSUE!!!

theres this specific part of the plagues scene in which ramesses stands between two statues of egyptian gods and glances at them as if to ask why the fuck arent they doing anything about the LITERAL hellfire and general havoc being brought down on the city. just thought that was a really cool detail.

AND OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH passover. i really shouldnt get excited about talking about an event that killed a whole heck ton of kids but its like fnaf at this point who cares ANYWAY THE DEAD KIDS

i already talked about the passover scene but what i didnt include (i think) is how when god's spirit or whatever idk enters the palace, it passes over a statue of ramesses and you just think, oh fuck wait RAMESSES HAD A SON.

and sure enough, that son is dead. moses walks in as ramesses pulls a sheet over his sons dead body and ramesses finally, after all of the plagues, tells moses he can take the hebrews and leave.

as moses walks away you can see ramesses glare at moses because he may have said he was done but. hes not. of course.

moses and the hebrews are leaving with yet another beautiful musical sequence (when you believe) and you can see the hordes of former slaves walking to the sea.

AAND just like i said RAMESSES WASNT FINISHED! he brings a whole bunch of soldiers on horseback and chases the hebrews, and god literally rains fire on them again this time in the form of a flaming tornado that sweeps across the sand, making a big old wall of fire that the egyptian soldiers cant get through

which gives moses the time to do the famous parting of the sea. he brings that staff down in the water and DOES GODS WONDERS!!! yay!!!

watching them walk on the seabed was beautiful. with some lightning strikes you could see the silhouette of some kind of shark swimming in the water (looked it up there are sometimes whale sharks in the red sea this is accurate)

and the fire tornado recedes into the earth, the fire fades, the soldiers chase on at ramesses' orders. the water sweeps them away just as the hebrews make it to the other side and it later cuts back to ramesses, alone on the rocky shore, screaming out at moses. hes completely alone, soldiers presumably dead, and no family to speak of. his side of the sea is cloudy and gloomy, still stormy, but when it jumps back to the hebrews in celebration, the sun shines bright and happy. the hebrews are free.

the movie ends with moses walking down the mountain sinai, ten commandments in hand, while the last snippet of deliver us plays once again.

only one other movie has evoked this much of this kind of emotion in me.(the one movie is klaus LMAO klaus made me ugly cry) there was not a single second of watching this that i didnt have goosebumps.

the movie itself just looks pretty. all of the characters have unique and neat designs. (its also nice to see a movie with only poc in it like im just saying)

the musical scores and numbers are so expertly made. my favorite has to be deliver us but through heavens eyes is a very close second. through heavens eyes made me feel better about myself, in a way. the entire movie was like some healing experience.

all in all, this is an S tier movie, and i BEG BEG BEG anyone who hasn't seen it to watch it. just pirate it or something (i did lol watched it on an illegal streaming site)

if you're not religious and havent seen it, think of it as a chance to learn more about abrahamic faiths. if you are religious and havent seen it, well hey! here you go!!

#the prince of egypt #long post #beware

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reversecreek · 3 years

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snickers feverishly at myself for bringing in a 5th... who do i think i am? unstoppable? invincible? suddenly ripples my titanium plated pecs. maybe so. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here.

* margaret qualley, cis female + she/her | you know bradley milligan, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to looking for knives by dyan like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole snow angels trampled through by your father’s footprints, casually reading a newspaper that’s catching flame & stubbing a cigarette against the wing mirror of a parked cop car thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 11th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her )

HISTORY:

bradley has this memory of meeting her grandmother for the first time n everything in the room was frozen still. even the air. she didn’t feel like she cld move n she got the impression this is how it’d always been in the milligan lineage. the only thing that was allowed to act of it’s own accord was her grandmother’s eyes as she tracked every slightest flinch of muscle. when her father left the room her grandmother reached out and took bradley’s hand n bradley looked at this like it was smthn she’d never seen before until her grandmother leaned close and all she could stare at was a nicotine stain on one of her front teeth. “he’s cold, isn’t he? he’s always been cold. i don’t think he’s mine.” bradley could tell from how tight she held her hand that he was. she could tell by the way she smiled as she said it, too. the way she felt obliged to smile back.

growing up in a huge white house in aquila drive w pruned hedges sounds idyllic n looks it too. swanky cars w tinted windows in the long driveway. always men filing in and out under the cloak of night wearing expensive suits n smiles worthy of a politician’s billboard. bradley’s mum alyssa thought so too n that’s hw she got into this whole mess tbh. tony milligan is very good at advertising. he cld package a jarred human heart as strawberry jam and convince u to spread it on ur toast if he wanted to. he could make u smile politely as u ate ur own.

alyssa ws this very pretty blonde kind of mysterious presence in a room. everyone wanted to kno her story or fk her but noone rly treated her like a person more just like a puzzle to solve. john green syndrome alert..... literally manic pixie dream girled bt on turbo charge. there were vague whispers she’d run away from home when she appeared in town out of nowhere bt nothing concrete. tony decided he wanted to crack the case n once he set his mind to something there was no changing it. they wound up embroiled in a whirlwind romance. head over heels. he came at romance hard and fast as a freight train. alyssa knew he was into shady things but not quite the full extent of it n honestly she didn’t care bc she wanted security n a family to call her own n tony promised that. they were married within a year.

tony came frm money bt he wanted to carve his own path n make his own legacy. destined fr greatness he’d tell her. we’re destined for greatness. it sounds nice doesn’t it! alyssa thought so too.

(drugs mention tw) slowly over the yrs he essentially forged his own crime organisation tht only grew. he opened a strip club down the seedier side of irving called ‘no angels’ n this became the front thru which his gang ran drugs in the back (predominantly coke n they pride themselves fr having a Superior Blend apparently) as well as laundering cash n this also was kind of their home base to hang

(abuse tw) their marriage increasingly lost it’s shine n alyssa came to realise she’d been sold a lie n she didn’t rly know this person or what he was capable of right around the time bradley was born. by then it was kind of like Wow i am rly in this n there is not an exit door huh. i won’t go into details bt things were not good at all. bradley witnessed n experienced a lot of things she shouldn’t have growing up. she didn’t understand why other kids drew home in all these different coloured crayons like they were bright places to be. she didn’t understand why everyone got so excited when the bell rang at the end of the day bc she just felt sick. she rationalised tht this was normal when she was younger bc sometimes kids talked abt the monsters under their beds giving them nightmares n she thought mayb they were talking abt their dads too. as she got older she realised tht actually her world wasn’t the same as anyone else’s n she also realised no-one wld ever be able to tell her why. she started becoming friends with the angry feeling in her chest tht she used to try and swallow around this time. often she’d wander the mall for a while to put off going home. smoke on random park benches. watch trains rattle thru town from the vantage point of a random rooftop.

(abuse, missing person implied, murder implied & grief tw) when bradley was 12 she woke up and all of her mum’s clothes were gone frm their drawers. no shoes anywhere. a framed photo of them at the beach holding bradley as a baby vanished from over the mantelpiece. when bradley asked her dad what was going on, tony essentially said “it was exhausting her. being here. being your mother. she didn’t want to do it any more, so now she’s gone” n then he hugged her. little details leaked into the mix over the yrs. at one point tony dismissed her as having flown overseas to a foreign country to drink in the sun like she’d always wanted even tho alyssa always told bradley she liked the snow best (once she even walked outside as it fell in a thin lace nightgown when tony was out n when bradley said “mom you’re gonna get cold” she only tugged her down and made her do snow angels until her lips looked blue). the most significant memory bradley can never shake from her head is her mother cupping a yellow tulip at the park n saying she hated them. when bradley asked why she only turned and smiled at her as she stroked the hair from her face n then said “because they look so happy”. after bradley’s mum vanished a long flower bed at the bottom of the garden was suddenly overrun with dozens of freshly planted yellow tulips. whenever bradley looked at them out of her window she got this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach like she was visiting a cemetery. she suspected what had happened to her mum (especially as rumours circulated within tony’s organisation abt alyssa being unfaithful with someone tht used to work fr him) bt she cld never bring herself to truly accept it. thus she ws stuck in this strange purgatory state of not-quite-anger at her mum for “leaving” and not-quite-grief.

bradley rly started to transgress in school after her mum was gone. alyssa was always kind of a character when she’d pick bradley up (wasn’t doing well n acted kind of ‘eccentric’ i suppose u cld say) so tony managed to spin it all as a child acting out in the wake of an unfit mother uprooting n abandoning. bradley became........ interesting. JKHGFSSKJGHFSGHSKFGHFG. she’d snap n resort to violence very easily. very desensitised to it. students were kind of scared of her tbh. as this progressed into proper high school she got in w the more rowdy popular crowd solely bc she was so fking.... wild for lack of a better word. rly would just do anything fr the thrill. had no sense of ‘i shouldn’t do this bc it’s dangerous’. partied harder than anyone. bit back harder than anyone. no filter. hung w a lot of guys honestly bc they had less morals n either found her scariness cool or wanted to fk <3

(hospitalisation, depression & drugs tw) she’s had. a few stints in psychiatric institutions fr various reasons tbh. missed a small chunk of her senior yr fr this but it wasn’t widely known just kind of rumoured. she showcases a lot of similar symptoms to her mum who struggled w severe depression (which was difficult to cope w when ur husband was often pouring ur prescription down the drain fr kicks) n in order to compensate fr the lows she takes a lot of things to kick them into highs. drinks n snorts too much. bradley i love u bt i’m begging u to seek healthier coping mechanisms......

as the yrs went on (especially once alyssa had gone) tony rly started trying to integrate bradley into the business side of things...... she literally. is named bradley bc he was expecting a boy n he was like well let’s still call her bradley. n had in mind she’d still fulfil the role he wanted her to of being his little protege so to speak.... both sexist n ugly all in one fell swoop...... an example of this is he literally. bought her a mint green switchblade for her 14th birthday n named it tinkerbell bc it would “die without attention” aka using it. tht sounds like a healthy gift to give a child tony congratulations sis <3

in an ideal world bradley wld have gone to uni to study psychology bc she jst wants to know how the fk her dad is literally like that bt she probably stuck around n is now managing no angels along with billy n marco (billy’s in her dad’s gang n is, u guessed it, a cunt, n marco is his sort of right hand man so to speak) bc tony’s in the closest neighbouring city overseeing a second ‘no angels’ opening up there to expand into a franchise n widen their income margins. bradley wld also be sort of used as a honey trap type deal once she got older if they needed to lure ppl places n sometimes still is bt it depends. the guys in the club all know not to mess w bradley bc she’s tony’s daughter n literally kind of scary herself sometimes bt there’s also this certain allure tht comes with being the boss’ daughter n it kind of comes across in how they act or talk abt her. yes i will kill them all n no i won’t feel bad abt it <3

think that’s kind of all u need to kno history wise... blinks one eye out of sync w the other..... runs to personality

PERSONALITY:

a phrase i wld always use to describe bradley in old intros is “like a cup of black coffee with one grain of sugar that u don’t taste until the last sip”. also dark chocolate. lime. liquorice. she’s an acquired taste n i feel like u either love her or u hate her.

cannot express how unpredictably chaotic she is..... frequently throws a drink in a stranger’s face jst to start something bc she’s bored. loves to hurl cheese slices across the room so they slap onto someone’s face out of nowhere. likes smashing things. stubbing cigarettes out on faces in framed family photographs. will literally pick a lock n then smash the window besides it to defeat the whole purpose just bc she found how neat it was boring. does anything fr the adrenaline n thrill. gets into far too many fights n fights dirty. probably been thrown out of every bar in town at least three times. banned from a bunch too.

she’s witty bt she has a dark sense of humour..... can be quite mean.......... loves to roast ppl for no reason........ honestly has some nathan young frm misfits aspects in that sense like jst seems untouchable emotionally n like she doesn’t take anything seriously n is fking outrageous about it.....

has this quality abt her tht kind of scares herself sometimes. it’s like she recognises parts of her dad in her. she’s very perceptive (bc she’s had to be over the yrs trying to read every micro-expression of her dad’s to predict what’s next) n like emotionally intelligent in a way which is ironic bc her own emotions r just an absolute minefield.... bt. she can read people quite well. gets this eerily calm look abt her sometimes n it’s jst like god what’s. she thinking. what’s she’s gna do. i’m shaking. a cool n controlled kind of rage can often be scarier than the explosive type n bradley does that well. grits my teeth n tugs on my collar....

very strong on the surface. hates being vulnerable. has this ingrained idea that crying is childish or rly any kind of emotional display within herself. 50% not taking things seriously 50% angry. tht’s how she comes across....... internally? whole different story. bt ppl don’t see that.

very cavalier abt some things. will flash her tits n not even think abt it. jst very out there...... one of her closest friends is a homeless man named joe who wears neon purple fishnets on his head n loves to spit on ppl from over an underpass. finds eccentric ppl like this funny n surrounds herself w them. loves to be kept on her toes.

LOVES driving stolen cars down the wrong side of the highway. it’s a lot.

fiercely loyal to a fault to a select few bt if u wrong her personally this can switch pretty quick. quite a force to b reckoned w n will hold a grudge. bt like. if ur a Chosen One she’d bury a body for u no questions asked.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

deals to u: bradley isn’t like full time into dealing bt she does do it sometimes.... treats it kind of like a hobby bc the lesser ranked can do tht shit as far as she’s concerned bt.. sometimes also jst gets bored n is like. why not. might be chaotic. mayb they’ll try to rob me <3 we love the thrill <3 or like..... if ur friends w her she’ll deal to u n no she will not do a friends discount <3 or if she does there will definitely be some sort of stipulation attached <3

high skl crew: if ur muse is local n ws an absolutely demonic hell spawn in high skl tht went to 1974547254 parties n was outrageously chaotic n rude then. bradley probably was friends w them <3 her friendships tend to be surface level bt they’d definitely go out a bunch bt whether they actually knew a lot abt her life is debatable bt we could explore options fr this

people who work at no angels: no angels is her dad’s strip club in irving that she kind of helps to run now. it’s kind of a shifty environment. the place where ud have an outrageous bachelor party. u go for the first time w a fake id n u get served bt u also get ur wallet stolen n ur convinced someone spat in ur drink n u also kind of think there might b a hit on u now after u made eye contact too long w a broad shouldered man smoking in a back booth. scary environment. testament to her dad as a person. maybe ur muse is a dancer there or works the bar or security or whatever u name it....

ma’am are u ok?: ur muse found bradley passed out across two bus seats one time in smudged dark eyeliner a silver slip dress n the world’s chunkiest combat boots this town hs ever seen. sometimes she winds up in spots like this when she goes too hard n it’s absolutely dangerous n reckless bt that’s jst bradley <3 mayb they forged an unlikely friendship frm this strange meeting or maybe even? dare i say it? a romance? opposite worlds colliding? good influence? let’s go crazy. release ur inhibitions. feel the rain on ur skin.

hook-ups: bradley’s cavalier abt this stuff..... very unemotional typically..... mayb we cld do an unrequited thing that wld be angsty n fun altho i won’t lie i don’t kno if she’d be the one to catch the feelings.... she rarely sleeps over bt once when she woke up in someone’s bed she hiked over to straddle them carefully as possible so they wldn’t wake up n then pressed her knife to their neck as a fun little surprise where she said boo when they opened their eyes.... she’s a lot clearly.

watermelon slugger, hiiii: bradley has this habit where she gets a bunch of watermelons n then goes to a rooftop n throws them over the edge to watch them explode when they hit the pavement.... maybe ur muse almost got hit by one once n were like WTF???????? another quirky meet cute moment like the bus one <3 can’t stop w them <3 maybe she randomly invited ur muse to do it w her when they were like. a stranger of f the street. she was bored. decided to adopt them as a science experiment. we cn elaborate on this probably....

ouch charlie: similar territory bt she also sometimes shoots pedestrians w a bb gun from rooftops. mayb ur muse wld always get hit by one on a certain route they walked n finally one day they saw her head ducking down behind a ledge n then they see her in the street one day n are like HEY IT’S YOU............. WTF? n bradley’s like ya i’m christ risen again it’s a lot to take in i know...

rly jst anything... mutually destructive friends... exes.... in one rp a character tried to get close to bradley so he cld write an expose all book about her n her family which i found so fking funny so i’ll request that again.... people she’s fought.... ppl whose gf/bf she’s fk’d n it’s caused enemy status.... someone whose place she broke into and shaved their eyebrows off in the night only to draw them on again in crudely thin permanent sharpie lines.... roommates cld be fun n sexy i’d love that actually.... jst anything rly. go wild. kisses everyone tenderly on cheeks.

#irvingintro #abuse tw #missing person tw #implied murder tw #grief tw #hospitalisation tw #depression tw #drugs tw #death tw #i think tht's all of them....... cor blimey......

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headcanonthings · 4 years

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Zukka + moonspirit!Sokka

So I love to write fics but I’m horrible at committing and finishing them out but here’s a rough outline/headcanon for prince zuko and moonspirit Sokka (this is gonna be long sorry)

To start Hakoda is chief of the Northern water tribe which obvs means that Sokka and Katara as well as Kya and Bato are all NWT (Kanna ran away from sexist Pakku and the southern tribe)

Aang is instead from the the Northern Air temple but still runs away and gets caught in a storm and freezes into an iceberg

The Northen Water Tribe gets attacked as the next expected place for the Avatar but thanks to the spirit oasis they’re a little more protected and are able to mostly withstand the numerous attacks; they still lose people but are not on the brink and still maintain a few waterbenders and Kya doesn’t die

Maybe a fire bender gets past their defenses and she gets burned idk but since there’s still water benders she’s healed up and lives (let the water tribe family be happy)

Sokka basically gets Yue’s backstory so that he can become moonspirit blessed

The war and fire nation all tracks with the show up (Sozin starts it, Iroh loses Lu Ten, Azulon order’s Zuko’s death and Ursa leaves, Ozai takes over) until Zuko’s Agni Kai

Iroh’s basically going through the motions after Lu Ten’s death, his depression made worse with the loss of his father and he pretty much doesn’t care that his birthright has been usurped by his little bro because he’d give it all up, live as the poorest person on earth, as long as it meant he had his son back

BUT THEN OZAI CHALLENGES HIS THIRTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD TO A SPIRITS DAMNED AGNI KAI

Iroh starts off with giving his brother the benefit of the doubt, like he knows the guys isn’t the greatest father but he’s not gonna HURT his kid right? Wrong. So the second Ozai cups his son’s face and Iroh sees the flames he snaps out of it and jumps into action

He literally jumps into the ring and pushes Ozai away, challenges him on the spot for the throne and Ozai might be the Fire Lord but Iroh is the MOTHER FUCKEN DRAGON OF THE WEST and kicks the guys ass

Ozai is thrown into the royal prison (and probably has some large burns because his brother can breathe fire??? And Iroh maybe vindictively made sure to burn the hand he hurt Zuko with so that everytime Ozai sees it he’ll remember why he’s there)

Zuko still has his scar but thanks to Iroh’s intervention it’s a little lighter, his sight and hearing on that sides a little fucked, and the outline of a handprint a little easier to discern but instead of the all encompassing shame and anger and pain when Zuko looks at his scar he’s reminded of how much his Uncle loves him and what he did to protect him (thinks of how much his mom loves him and probably Lu Ten because you can’t convince me that Iroh’s kid wasn’t like the best cousin ever)

He’s still a little self conscious of it because come on it’s a giant face scar from his father and he’s a teenager but it’s not as bad as in the show

Newly crowned Fire Lord Iroh declares the war over and since the 94 year or whatever war isn’t that catchy and Iroh wants it to be acknowledged that it was the fire nations fault it starts to be referred to as Sozin’s War

So fast forward three/four years and the world is slowly moving towards peace Fire Lord Iroh is hosting a small delegation of the leaders of the different nations to really start ironing out official peace treaties which means Hakoda and Fam come down from the North Pole and everyone finally meets!

BONUS

Lu Ten was a non-bender so became super skilled at a number of diff weapons and fighting styles

Zuko is understandablely freaked out by fire bending for awhile after the whole facing his father in a fire duel thing — Iroh remembers how Zuko seemed to like watching Lu Ten practice his swordsman skills so he calls on his good friend Master Piandao

Piandao takes one look at this little traumatized boy and goes ‘Bitch let’s get you some sword therapy’ and hands Zuko his first set of dao swords and during their training while Zuko’s too focused on getting his forms right he doesn’t realize that they’re not talking about swords anymore and instead he tells him about the Agni Kai and his scar and how he’s scared of his own fire

Piandao is the first person Zuko ever tells about how the Agni Kai wasn’t the first time his father hurt him; he’s also the first non family person Zuko’s ever cried in front of and gotten a hug from

Hakoda and Bato never leave to fight but make regular weeks long trips out to keep the defenses up so there’s still some worry that he won’t come back; Sokka’s not allowed to come along because his parents are a little over protective because of how he was born and only alive because the moonspirit blessed him but they still let him do some warrior training after Sokka convinced them about needing to know how to protect himself as son of the chief plus how kya was hurt

“If they got in once they can do it again!”

Sokka and Katara sneak out one day because they feel the need to make sure the Fire Navy is really retreating and they end up in some SiblingFight TM and Katara might have some people to help train her water bending but she’s still a teen girl and when she gets worked up her control kind of gets iffy and she ends up cracking a giant iceberg and FINDS A WEIRD BOY

A WEIRD BOY WHO TURNS OUT TO BE THE LAST AIRBENDER AND THE AVATAR

with Fire Lord Iroh declaring the war over and everyone slowly starting to believe him there’s no rush to get Aang powered up so instead the Water Tribe Sibs take him home and focus on figuring out what happened to Aang and giving him a history lesson in a more relaxed manner

They still take him to the air temple which is hard but Aang won’t believe them about the war until he sees proof and well the Fire Navy is gone and there is no angsty teen hunting him

Hakoda more or less adopts the kid while Aang hangs around the north pole to train and become BFFs with Sokka and Katara

Toph gets tired of her overprotective parents and runs away after she hears them wailing about marriage prospects or something; she finds her way to Omashu where some weird old crazy guy finds her and he says he’s king which is kind of confusing but whatever he gives her a place to stay, doesn’t expect her to act like a lady or treat her like a porcelain doll, he’s kind of funny and is a freaking amazing earth bender (almost as good as her)

Aang comes with Hakoda as part of his fam for the Peace Summit while Toph accompanies Bumi as part of the Earth Kingdom delegation and so the Gaang comes together while the adults fix shit like they should

Zukka specific

Iroh and Zuko greet all the delegations personally so Zuko’s first sight of Sokka is in full Water Tribe regalia and he thinks the white haired boy is the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life

Sokka has pretty much the same reaction seeing the Prince of The Fire Nation (he feels a little bad about it because it’s only been like three years since the war ended and a lot of people still view the Fire nation as the enemy)

Sokka can’t sleep one night, he’s a bit of a night owl because of his connection, so he’s wandering around about trying to find an open quiet spot so that he can talk to the moon (the spirit saved him so he likes to talk to it like it’s his friend) when he catches Zuko practicing his dao

Zuko has nightmares and going through his dao forms relaxes him along with spending time at his precious turtleduck pond

Sokka is full on smitten after that (there’s nothing more attractive than a boy competently handling two swords)

Sokka asks Zuko to show him how to use his swords

There’s shy flirting between the two and good natured teasing from the others

Mai and Ty Lee come up with little schemes to get Zuko and Sokka alone which clash with the schemes Aang and Katara come up with

Toph choas goddess she is bounces between the two groups throwing out comments that she’s knows will cause the two different schemes to clash

#okay this ended up being way longer than i expected #sorry #zukka #moonspirit sokka #zuko #sokka #a;tla #hakoda #katara #aang #toph #king bumi #uncle iroh #fire lord iroh #headcanon #long post

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pumpkinpatchkid · 4 years

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Got Your Back - 001

Pairing: Atsushi x F!Reader Soulmates

Rating: 18+ (eventually)

Warnings: Reckless behaviour, toxic thoughts, parental abuse, clothes being destroyed (no nudity), cursing, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ANYTHING ELSE NEEDS TO BE PUT IN THE WARNINGS <3

Soul mates. The one person that always had your back, literally and figuratively. When you’re born, there’s a permanent mark on your back that represents the person you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with. If one was a gifted, like yourself, there was an almost one hundred percent possibility you were paired up with another. Those who didn’t possess supernatural abilities had the thing that their soulmate treasured the most on their back. From birth, the large white tiger was prominent against your skin, and it grew with you, your whole life. At 18, it had covered the entirety of your back, yet the person it represented still hadn’t entered your life.

When? When will I meet them? You sighed as you examined the large feline in the mirror. Another morning, another search for a job to keep you going. It had been 3 weeks since you’d run from your parents and ended up in Yokohama. 3 weeks was all it took for the money you had run with to dwindle as you paid for a rundown little shack to keep yourself alive.

You tore yourself away from your reflection and began to rummage through your small duffel bag of clothes, hoping you still had some job-searching appropriate attire. At the bottom of the bag, you pulled out a neatly folded white shirt and your nicest black jeans, throwing them on after picking your freshly washed “lucky underwear set” from the line.

You ran your fingers through your hair, and pulled on your battered boots, making do before grabbing your key and half charged phone off the side, leaving the shack quietly and locking the door behind you.

You made your way down the trail that led into Yokohama’s smaller side of town and started your search for job openings in every window you passed. You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed on your search, but your hopes began to fade.

Looks like another loss.

As you gazed into the buildings, you found yourself losing touch with reality, which you were brought back to as you walked straight into somebody.

“I’m so sorry” You instinctively said, looking at the floor as if ready for your punishment. The person you ran into began to laugh. You looked up to find a tall, beautiful brunette, with bandages poking out from under his shirt. He offered you a hand.

“No, I’m the one to apologize, pretty thing. Name’s Dazai Osamu.” You nodded and took his hand, where he began examining yours.

“Y/N L/N.” You watched this Dazai man carefully, as he investigated your palm, knuckles, fingers and wrist. He hummed and dropped your hand, seemingly satisfied.

“Is... everything okay, Dazai-san?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He nodded, and a charming, yet mischievous grin spread across his face.

“So, L/N-chan. I’ll help you with whatever you’re looking for, and then you have to strangle me.” He beamed, as if proud of the proposal he just gave you. Your jaw slacked and you looked at him as if he’d grown 3 heads.

“S-Strangle you??” You sputtered out. Dazai nodded with a newfound enthusiasm and threw his hands into the air.

“To death!” He sang. Your face paled as you watched him. Then you began to laugh.

This man has well and truly lost his mind. You shrugged, re-composing yourself and hummed.

“I suppose I could humour you, Dazai-san. Say you could find me a job? If you can help me do that then we’ll figure out where to go from there.” You laughed as Dazai punched the air victoriously, eyes brimming with tears.

What a weirdo... You rolled your eyes when he turned his back to you and raised your eyebrow once again as he started to walk off into the now expanding crowd.

“I hear there’s lots of jobs going on the other side of here. Why don’t I accompany you?” He grinned, gesturing for you to follow his lead. You smiled at the eccentric man ahead of you and began to take your stride next to him. The walk was pleasant and filled with chatter. Dazai had guessed that you hadn’t been in Yokahoma long. He’d said you’d looked a little lost and claimed that’s why he “flew in to help like your knight in shining armour”. You couldn’t help but find yourself laughing at the man, his company was light-hearted, and his little quips undeniably made you smile. In all, he was quite sweet.

And not bad on the eye either... Maybe my soulmate got mixed up? He doesn’t look like someone to possess a tiger to me.

You were about to reply with something Dazai had said, before stopping in your tracks. You inhaled and the smell of smoke was thick in your nostrils. You spun to the direction the smell was strongest to see nasty black plumes of smoke dominating the otherwise blue sky. Without thinking you bolted to the scene of the fire, guided by your sense of smell, and the black towers above you.

When you reached the scene an apartment complex was ablaze, from the second story to maybe the fifth. Flames licked the outside world from where windows used to be, and a heavy congregation of people crowded the area. You pushed through them, eyes scanning for the victims. Ambulances and fire fighters were already at the scene, tending to the people pulled from the building.

Your heart began to lift, until you saw a woman on her knees, sobbing and crying out as she was being restrained in the arms of a fire fighter.

“My children! They’re in there!! Please, please! Get them out of there! My babies!” She was screaming at the man holding her back. You couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying to her as you’d already jumped, using the frames of the shattered windows to pull yourself to the third floor.

You burst in through the opening and were blanketed in darkness.

“Hot Blood, Eye of the Winged Serpent...” You muttered under your breath. A sudden flash stunned your world momentarily before reds and oranges, flecked with golds cleared your vision.

Much better.

With no sign of life in the room you entered, you began barging through the rooms of the floor, searching for the victims before moving onto the next, flames licking at your skin and scorching your clothes; it was a warmth you welcomed. As you rose your foot to kick down the next, your ears perked up as you could hear crying and begging come from across the hall. You spun and smiled, satisfied, as the door broke from its hinges giving you perfect access to the flame encased room. There, your eyes locked on to two white hot bodies, small and quivering in the middle of the room.

“Hey! Hey, it’s alright, I’m here to help.” You spoke above the crackling of the fire, approaching the two children with caution. A little boy, blackened from the smoke, eyes streaming, and clothes burned from his body, was cowering next to a little girl, laid under a large piece of furniture. She was sobbing for help.

“Please get my sister out! Help us please!” The little boy cried, coughing harshly. He used his body to protect the smaller girl beside him as a large flame lashed out at the three of you. You jumped between the children and the fire, shielding them both.

“It’s alright. We’ll get your sister out, Kiddo. And you two. You’ll both be alright, okay? Now try and calm your breathing. We can’t have you taking in any more smoke, can we?” You smiled softly at him.

As you turned to the little girl, you noticed some of her hair had been burned off, and the furniture had pinned her legs. You grabbed the corner of the large... bookshelf? it looked like, but you weren’t stopping to take a better look. You hoisted the object from off her, and the little boy dragged her into him. She let out a sob and clung to her brother. You scanned her over quickly, to find two broken legs.

Shit. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Alright buddy, I’m going to carry your sister, so I need you to hop on my back, alright? I’m gonna get you out of here.” You crouched in front of the pair, cradling the little girl in your arms, as her brother clambered onto your back.

“Ready? Hold tight.” You spoke to the pair, before taking off down the hall, staying low, and made your way back to the room you’d burst into. You clambered out of the hole in the wall and stood on the small ledge attached to the outside of the building, tightening your grip on the little one in your arms. You pulled the little boy by his arm to your front and held him close.

“We’re gonna jump, okay? Whatever you do, do not let go of me.” The pair nodded, heeding your instructions, before you let go. You heard the crowd below you scream, and your back hit the concrete below you, forcing yourself into a roll as your arms shielded the youngsters against your chest.

As you stopped rolling, you lay flat on your back, only meters away from the sobbing mother. She screamed when she saw her children and ran to them. She scooped them up, and thanked you through choked cries, cradling her babies. You nodded before hoisting your body from the floor. You made a quick exit, slipping through the large audience and made your way onto the next street, slumping against the wall. You looked down at your charred clothes, large patches of material missing and burnt to a crisp.

Least my underwear’s intact. Knew this set was lucky.

You chuckled to yourself and pushed yourself from the wall and stretched. As you were about to make an exit, calling it quits for one day, a familiar figure blocked your path. Dazai was stood there.

He must’ve followed me. Crap.

Two figures shifted to stand beside Dazai. One was a tell young man, with glasses and long blonde hair in a ponytail. He was adorned in a suit and in his left hand was a notebook. He stood silently and pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand. The other was an older man. His long silver hair covered his shoulders, and you couldn’t take your eyes away from his kind, grey ones. Dazai was beaming. The older gentleman stepped forwards and was the only one to speak to you.

“I think you should come with us.”

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #soulmate atsushi #atsushi x reader #atsushi x y/n #atsushi x you #slow burn #soulmate au #bsd fic #bungo stray dogs fic #atsushi nakajima #fem!reader #pumpkinpatchfics

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notesofarichlycolorednight · 4 years

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eyooo!! i listened to firesorrow girl [TUMBLR | SOUNDCLOUD] by @gerrydelano and HAD A MIGHTY NEED (to also analyze this)

disclaimer: I have only listened to TMA through one (1), read it ONE time, so if you read something that seems wrong it probably is because my memory is not The Best (the seasons are 40 eps long and 30 mins each, Jonny why) and I’m probably straight-up not remembering or misremembering some aspect or detail about a character/a relationship/a part of their narrative

(and before you say it, i absolutely CANNOT just go relisten to an ep out of order. my nd brain Will Not Let Me until i have listened thru all 4 seasons, In Order, several times)

ALSO: i speak very definitively here, but it doesn’t mean i’m right abt my analysis

italics and bold are lyrics, normal is analysis. if there’s a way i can make this more accessible, lmk!

analysis under cut

little girl tries sleeping in the fireplace at home no one banished her inside it, she just lay down on her own she stares up into the darkness of the chimney and she hopes that someday she may go up in smoke this makes me think abt hilltop road first and foremost (but i have a feeling i’m missing something aljlkdjf) this is also the first hint to agnes’s wavering thoughts abt her being “the chosen one” for the lightless flame she’s already wishing she could burn, or in other words be normal

oh, the ends of her hair curl into embers in the wood beneath her head like a pillow, splintered shoulders in the soot flickers turn to flame and moves in kisses up her arms it loves her, so refuses her a scar i really like the imagery here bc, aside from the splinters, it evokes a softness embers are pretty, pillows are soft, “moves in kisses up her arms” really evokes a gentle intimacy, even before the line “it loves her” but then the last line really solidifies agnes’s relationship with fire--she wishes it would burn her but it loves her too much to do that, so she doesn’t

she doesn't burn oh, she learns again, reinforcing the motif agnes’s relationship with fire--the layers of 1) her not wanting this but 2) the first doesn’t care and loves her anyway i also see it as foreshadowing, or at least leading up to what she learns (put a pin in this)

pretty girl sits quiet in the coffee shop alone staring empty out the window like she used to do at home she feels his eyes fall down upon her from the counter, like a doe the ache of yearning blisters in her bones jack barnabas! hilltop road the use of doe, evokes the visual of “wide eyes,” which, in turn, evokes naivety--jack doesn’t know who agnes is, what she is, or that she could hurt him, even if she didn’t want to love, love, LOVE the fire motif here and used throughout the song--using fire metaphors bc it’s so fitting (put a pin in this)

he follows her up to the hill where water never works to send him down she broke his crown and blessed him with a curse her only kiss a smear of kerosene, a desperation unrehearsed and love made sure to let her know it hurts (love made sure it hurt) this only hit me like after the 5th time listening in a row, but LISTEN, “jack and jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water.” i think it could also mean hilltop road, but i do think the stronger theme lies in that nursery rhyme. his name is jack and then to solidify that, “to send him down she broke his crown” vs. “jack fell down and broke his crown” i really love the contradiction of “blessed him with a curse” *ben from parks and rec voice* it’s about the layers. so listen, love is often seen as a blessing. but coming from agnes it’s a curse bc she burns anyone she touches. this is also in reference to her momentarily transferring her curse (the love from the lightless flame/fire) to him through her kiss “smear of kerosene”--another way of using a metaphor that evokes images of fire, and I LOVE IT “a desperation unrehearsed” MORE LAYERS YO. she knows what her touch will do to him but she’s so desperate to feel normal for even a second, she kisses him anyway “and love made sure to let her know it hurts”--going back to her curse, the love from fire/flame, and the destruction is causes bc of this. it could also be representative of how love can be very destructive. ppl often describe “the fires of passion” or passion as being like fire/hot *eyes emoji* i think the addition of “love made sure it hurt” could also communicate how the fire’s love for agnes is possessive--she cannot be normal or human or have any other relationship except with the lightless flame

he burns oh, she learns a parallel to “she doesn’t burn”--the striking difference between her and jack (the lightless flame and the rest of the world) what she learns here, tho, is also a parallel between what she learns at the beginning of the song there she is learning abt herself, here is is learning about everyone else

learns that breathing screamsmoke blackens hearts as much as lungs a heart motif, representative of love another fire-related metaphor that breathing in smoke doesn’t just fill your lungs with soot, but also covers the heart (love) in soot, as well a toxic love, as soot is bad for lungs and hearts it can’t be coughed back out and she can’t glisten like the sun using fire-related metaphors--the soot in her lungs and on her heart cannot be “cleaned” or cleared from her body with the body’s natural reaction to something obstructing breathing, which is coughing listen, i’ve said this before AND YOU’LL HEAR IT AGAIN: i really love “she can’t glisten like the sun” bc the whole point of fire, as the lightless flame sees it, is what the fear is named for: desolation. BUT fire is ultimately a neutral thing. if you respect and carefully control it, it can give warmth and life--like the sun (tho you can’t control the sun lmao). so there are positive aspects to. but not for agnes, given her upbringing and literally how she was conceived there’s no one left to save with love and no one she can touch affection is the pyre built on wildfire in the brush reinforcing her being unable to connect with normal humans bc of who she is ALSO i’m pretty sure this is referencing the bonfire she was born in--the ritual that made her the lightless flame’s messiah also, also, the use of the word “affection” uses the theme that fire itself love agnes, in it’s own, twisted way

her hands were only ever made to press through burning flesh and boiling tears won’t put it out but scald it like the rest referencing her birth again--that she was made to be this messiah for the lightless flame, for their ritual to remake the world through the lens of the desolation also more fire-related metaphors that i am IN LOVE with ugh, and, okay “boiling tears” communicates what agnes is feeling again--that she Does Not want to be their messiah, she just wants to be normal. she doesn’t want what the fire has given her but even her tears burn bc that’s what she is, what she was made for and the love of waxen women makes no difference in the end if never she can make and keep a simple human friend reference to jude, specifically, but other members of the lightless flame, as well. from what i remember, they all loved her but in the way that the fire loves her: possessive and toxic (like soot in the lungs) and then the reinforcement that she’s not human and cannot have the connection with humans she desperately craves, even if it’s just a tiny sliver

she can’t burn oh, she’s learned YO the difference between “she doesn’t burn” and “she can’t burn”--there’s a passiveness to it in the first line, but it’s more active in the second. here me out: as i said before, the “learn” lines communicate the inner thoughts of what agnes is thinking, the revelations she makes as he grows and lives. so “she doesn’t burn” communicates her learning and get used to the fact that fire doesn’t hurt her. versus “she can’t burn” communicates her knowing and accepting that the fire doesn’t hurt her, but she can hurt others with that very same fire. lowkey it’s so hard to articulate this difference, but this is the best my brain came up, hope it makes sense

YOOOO GIVE ME A MOMENT THIS NEXT PART IS MY FAVORITE PART

firesorrow girl says, “hang me up; i’d like to go” (i would like to go) referencing her death--her realizing that bc she’s fallen in love with jack, she can no longer lead the ritual for the lightless flame. but bro, listen, the addition of “i would like to go” is a direct line to what agnes is thinking and feeling. more than not being able to lead the ritual, she doesn’t want to live like this anymore; doesn’t want to live her life unable to make connections with humans this isn’t quite a chimney she can column up to choke (i choose now to choke) a throwback to the first lines about her lying down in the fireplace and looking up through the chimney ALSO has a double meaning here, reinforced by what agnes is thinking: you can choke on smoke. her death involves literal choking the “i choose now to choke” again is a direct line to what agnes is thinking/feeling BUT ALSO a decision she finally gets to make autonomously the weighted hand upon her waist is chained there like a ghost, (always been a ghost) i know you’re probably tired of hearing but i ain’t gonna stop saying it. I REALLY LOVE THIS LINE. the lyrics say one thing, agnes’s internal thoughts say another bc raymond fielding is a ghost. not just like a ghost. he is one to her. i believe it was distortion helen who said that there was a scar on hilltop road. and we find out later that it’s bc hilltop road belonged to the web and even tho agnes burnt the house down, the web still left a mark on her. part of that mark is fielding, who i assume, was an avatar for the web. and it’s quite literal, as agnes never got rid of his hand he literally is a ghost haunting her bc of this but the rope she wears is woven cold with hope (yearning to be cold) THIS LINE BRO,,, i’m gonna say it I FUCKING LOVE IT. of course, referencing the rope she uses to hang herself BUT LISTEN “woven cold with hope” YOOOO THIS IS TAKING THE FIRE LOVES HER THEME AND TURNING IT ON ITS HEAD COMPLETELY she has been burning with fire this entire song, her body a raging inferno, contained in a body that appears human but hurts anything she touches. BUT AT THE END OF THE SONG WE GET THE COLD fire is often associated with warmth is often associated with hope, right?? but this time bc of the circumstances and what fire means to agnes and the lightless flame, being cold, not burning everyone she touches horribly, is her hope ”yearning to be cold” strengthens that message coldness is also associated with death, and here it’s quite literal but it’s also important to note that it’s also still agnes’s hope. so it’s still a very positive thing, even tho it’s associated with very negative things. bro,,, i gotta go lie down

those who can remember sing her name out like a prayer (i am not your prayer) the lightless flame, of course, bc they are a cult. don’t @ me, i’m right BUT “i am not your prayer”: again, a direct line into agnes’s thoughts. she never wanted, nor asked to be their messiah. she was thrust into the position against her will as she was literally borne in flames. from birth she had this shouldered on her. and she doesn’t want it, even in death the music to it hollow of the truth in her despair (hollow with despair) goes along with the “prayer” for her above: the lightless flame sing and mourn her but they’re not mourning her, not agnes, they’re mourning their messiah, the one who was going to lead them through a ritual that would remake the world. their words ring hollow bc of this. and it hurts even more with “in her despair” bc even in agnes’s despair at not being able to connect with a human, as well as not being able to lead the lightless flame like they wanted her too, they’re only mourning the idea of agnes they’ve created in their minds, not who agnes really was in wickerwind the crackleburn of candles cries for fate (i rewrite my fate) and firesorrow girl may someday be chosen again (firechosen girl, again) i LOVE the use of “wickerwind” and “crackleburn.” no analysis i just love the way they sound okay but the “cries for fate.” i think this has a lot of meanings. one is the fire crying out either about agne’s ultimate fate (having to kill herself or die, anyway) and/or crying out for another to fill her position (putting agnes’s fate onto someone else’s shoulders). another is the lightless flame also crying out for the same reasons. and the third is agnes, herself, crying out about her unfair fate. i think that last one is strengthened by “i rewrite my fate.” a common but powerful theme in many stories of a character defying fate bc it’s unacceptable to them. it’s also wholly contradictory to what the lightless flame wanted and then, of course, the second line strengthens the idea that they’re already looking for another messiah for their ritual

and so the wheel turns ‘round and ‘round

final note abt the music that is probably wrong bc i’m not musically inclined BUT i have been listing to sideways on youtube, who is very musically inclined. and that makes me an expert right? /s anyway, what i wanted to note abt this musical structure is that the beats aren’t the usual 4/4 that most popular songs use these days.

and what that means is that you get gratification ever 4 beats. (sideways describes it way better than i ever could here) this song doesn’t follow that structure (i think lakjlkdjf again, i’m not musically inclined at all) and i think it really adds to the theme of how agnes feels: trapped with this fire burning inside her until she finally chooses freedom (tho i know it’s more complicated than that in-verse).

now whether was was purposeful or not, i have no idea. but still a cool detail i, personally, noticed.

again hope it was semi-coherent. as with my other analysis, i just listened to the song and wrote what i was thinking, stream of consciousness

bloodwater ballad analysis | bonus meme i made for these analyses bc it’s funny and i wanted to share

#tma #the magnus archives #tma meta #(kinda)#agnes montague #jude perry #chirp.meta

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solarcitymelodies · 4 years

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Wowza sorry y'all about the random massive Rockafire spam, I'm pretty sure ??most?? People on here? know me for just Knight Rider because that's the only thing I've ever REALLY posted about--

but I Do Not Care it's RAE hours right now so uhhh here's some headcannons that probably aren't Canon compliant very much because I just got into RAE like last week

So like. I feel like Mitzi is a Good Amount younger than the rest of the band like she was in highschool when she joined, the rest of em were all Adults™ and she was a little bit nervous about it because...... ADULTS™

She was just lookin for a place to get her singing voice out there, because ya girl REALLY wanted to perform, and showbiz happened to have a slot open, but she did not expect all of the members to be older than her (although looking back, she realized she probably should have expected that)

It was intimidating at first but Billy Bob and Fatz were just the absolute sweetest and they introduced her properly to the rest of the band because she was like "oh I barely talk to them because I get nervous :(" and the resident dads p much said "aight we can do all the talking for you then, how about that?" And badabing badaboom she's now attached to these two and like honestly who isn't or maybe that's just me but ANYWAYS I feel like the band would become a second home/safe space for her

Yeah fr some reason I have BIG long headcannon for her joining the band but the rest of them? Nobody knows how they got there for all I know they just Showed Up One Day

Also I came across this

https://youtu.be/UU7BeUWQBDI

youtube

Which got me thinkin about what my headcannons were as far as sexuality/gender stuff

And I find the concept of Billy Bob being Very Much Straight And Ignorant but trying his hardest to be a good ally SO funny like if someone came out to him he'd probably be like "oh!! I don't understand why you would choose that lifestyle but I respect you!!" not realizing how incredibly stupid he sounds sjkrjh like I don't think he can very easily wrap his head around how people are just. not cishet. so he's like "OH then it must be a choice, right? like you can choose to be gay but you're born straight. Right?" and everyone just shakes their heads in the background but he does earnestly try his best and my man would rather DIE than disrespect someone's pronouns I know this for sure

Fatz is pretty similar, straight ally and a lil confused but he's got the spirit, you know? He still least knows being gay (as well as,,, m o s t sexualities that aren't straight, although some he doesn't get/know about at all) isn't a choice but he hasn't quite grasped that being trans is also not a choice. He will respect your pronouns to hell and back but by god he doesn't get it,,, he's trying though and he feels very accomplished in himself that he's starting to get the hang of using they/them even though he slips up a lot

The rest of the band encourages the HELL out of these two because they're. Trying their best and making an honest effort which is more than a pretty good chunk of people would give

Rolfe, Earl, and Dook are the reasons Billy Bob and Fatz are trying so hard to understand it lmao

Rolfe took it upon himself to hang up a MASSIVE gay pride flag backstage, being the flaming homosexual that he is, and the rest of the squad quickly realized "oh he's GAY gay he wasn't kidding" because at first they literally thought he was joking as he was actually just being openly and obnoxiously a raging mlm (and like I mean no shade to him this isn't me tryna to make fun of it because my dumb sapphic ass almost crashed my car once because I saw a pretty girl walk down the street. And by "once" I mean. Yesterday.) Anyways yeah that's when the rest of em Realized and were like "OH" but after the massive pride flag was hung up that prompted Dook to come out and they were all like "???? YOU TOO????"

Dook is a non-binary ICON he's a demiboy and goes by both he/him and they/them and probably would have a bunch of pride pins I think,,, I'm not really sure of his sexuality though!! honestly he kinda gives me bisexual vibes but Who Knows . Not me. He has a HELL of a time trying to explain his gender to the rest of the band (except for Rolfe because like. He's a part of the community so he knows) and basically he was met with "so you're just a dude but ✨spicy✨?" and it was like, "no, but I have no idea how to explain it in a way that will make sense to you, so. yes?" And that explanation seemed to suffice for most of them

Mitzi went in knowing NOTHING about what being non-binary was so she asked a l o t of questions about it, which Dook just kinda dealt with answering (he's heard most of it before, and it gets tiring after a while. if you're nb or trans or honestly any part of LGBTQ+ you know what I mean) but he thought it was really sweet of her to be so determined to learn about it and eventually she did get a grasp on it ish, so she was able to understand why it wasn't just ✨spicy male✨ (the conversation pretty much went "well if i was just male, don't you think I would label myself that way instead?" "....oH TRUE!!!") and she ended up a VERY passionate ally, and she'll ask occasionally about how to be better at it, bein a queen as she is 👉👉 also definitely started questioning her sexuality after a while and just went with "maybe bicurious" and Rolfe, Dook, and Earl were all like "ONE OF US, ONE OF US"

Earl has never once spoken about his sexuality in his life, because 1. He's very aware that's an awkward conversation to have with a puppet, and 2. He's aroace anyways, which is basically what people assume even if they don't realize it just for their own peace of mind, because seriously, puppets and any identity that ISN'T aroace creates a really uncomfortable mental image for... Most people, pretty much. So it's not like he ever needed to say anything about it, which is convenient for him because he wouldn't want to say anything either way. not worth the risk of embarrassing himself and making everyone feel awkward

(side note ish though Rolfe 100% came out to Earl first and was met with "I already knew that but okay." Rolfe was mildly offended)

And spEAKING OF EARL he's VERY much sentient but he can't say he's particularly enthusiastic about it because Rolfe has to carry him around everywhere

He can move on his own but it's limited and generally annoying to maneuver around with his tiny body so he just says screw it half the time and stays on Rolfe's arm or hitch a ride on Random Object, but like... Yeah, the majority of the time Rolfe just has to deal with only having one arm available and a puppet directly next to him making fun of him at every possible chance

They high-key have chaotic and unorganized college roommate vibes (like they're actually roommates because... Where tf is Earl supposed to go?? So Rolfe took him in) and idk if this is really like a part of my headcannons or if I just think it's funny so I keep entertaining the idea of it but I think it would be Fantastic if Rolfe had no idea how to cook but Earl somehow did so this idiot is trying to take instructions from a puppet, who can't physically show him what to do, and it's like Hell's Kitchen live featuring a furry and a sentient stuffed animal

Aaaaamd going off of my Rolfe and Earl headcannons still Rolfe for SURE has some sort of executive dysfunction issue. ADD or ADHD I'm not sure (probably ADHD) but he definitely has it also this totally isn't just me projecting how dare you accuse me of that

And!!! More about Dook!!!! I don't know how or why I thought up of this but I cannot possibly imagine him any other way now-- he's autistic and space is his Big Huge special interest, and if you ever ask him about it you have to be prepared to get infodumped or possibly even shown a PowerPoint presentation, because GOD he loves space!!! He wants everyone to know all about it!! He knows not everyone thinks it's as cool as he does so he tries to keep his mouth shut but when someone asks about it he can't help himself and will infodump a LOT, also haha drumming stims go brrrr, playing the drums isn't really a stim but he likes to just take his drumsticks and whack em around in the air and get that good ol Wavy Arm Action (wavy arms is best stim change my mind you can't it's GOOD)

Also i bbbbelieve earlier I reposted somethin about someone else headcannoning that he has echolalia, which I don't really know enough about to say anything on it?? But even if he doesn't have echolalia he'd probably repeat phrases over and over until he gets tired of them (which is,,, something I do lmao, it's either memes I get stuck in my head or things I've heard from various medias I like the inflections in (like one tiktokker I saw was talking about their tourettes and their vocal tics and one of them was "uh oh! How unfortunate!" and now I CAN'T STOP SAYING IT)) but like uhhh yeah :))) repeating phrases that get stuck in your head for various reasons for the win

This is already really long so I'm just gonna vibe out thanks for coming to my Ted talk feel free to ask questions I probably won't be able to answer a lot of em though because my headcannons are a Mess hehe >:)

#WOOOW GROMIT #rae #rockafire explosion #rock-a-fire explosion #i still don't know what tags y'all use #someone pls stop me from stealing peoples vocal tics i find on tiktok #like seriously #the one i mentioned as well as are stuck in my head #SIZZLE IT UP G R O M I T #he lp #lmaooo anyways yeah i love these characters im biased towards rolfe and earl tho they're my favorites

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