#Natural Alabaster Series

[knightofthenewrepublic]

The Battle of Manhattan didn’t go the way the Fandom thinks it did; we need to address the “massacre” of the Titan Army!

The Battle of Manhattan is the most pivotal event of the first series. And we see the entire thing exclusively from Percy’s point of view. He takes us through the thickest of the fight from one end of Manhattan Island to the next, and shows us a desperate fight of good against evil.

But we have another point of view for the battle, one that comes from the demigods of the Titan army, and one that informs us of a far different, darker side to the conflict. One where an entire army of children is massacred by the victorious Olympians, without a thought or even a care. It’s a shocking, confronting side of the struggle that most fans don’t seem to be aware of. 

But it’s also completely inaccurate. 

Now I love Alabaster; he’s one of my favorite characters, and I want nothing but the best for him. But he’s a demonstrably unreliable narrator. I don’t even mean that he’s intentionally dishonest; but he’s very badly misinformed about what actually happened. And that gives the fandom three major misconceptions that need to be cleared up. 

Alabaster gets the casualty ratio for the battle wrong (the Olympians had more than he thinks).

The Titan army has far fewer demigods than most fans think (not much more than 50 at the most).

Alabaster does say that there was a “massacre” at the end of the battle, but most of the TA demigods had deserted before that!

Part 1) The Olympians Have High Casualties

“It was a massacre. If I remember right, my mother told me that Camp Half-Blood and its allies had sixteen casualties total. We had hundreds.” (pg 219)

This is the only time we get a specific number for Olympian casualties, but it just doesn’t match up with what actually happens in the books. Looking back at all the deaths we do see:

Charlie Beckendorf -1

one [Hellhound] got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn’t see what happened to him next. I didn’t want to know. (pg 182) -1

Michael Yew -1

A young dragon had appeared in Harlem, and a dozen wood nymphs died before the monster was finally defeated. (pg 203) -12

“We lost twenty satyrs against some giants at Fort Washington,” [Grover] said, his voice trembling. (pg 203) -20 Giants smashed through trees, and naiads faded as their life sources were destroyed. (pg 243) -1< Enemy archers returned fire, and a Hunter fell from a high branch. (pg 244) -1  Too many of our friends lay wounded in the streets. Too many were missing. (pg 257) -1< The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies –helmets and armor pieces from defeated campers. (pg 282) -1< The Drakon lashed out, swallowing three californian centaurs in one gulp before I could even get close. (pg 288) -3 Poison spewed everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with quite a few monsters, (pg 288) -1< The Drakon snapped up one Ares camper in a gulp. (pg 291) -1

Silena Beauregard -1

Leneus -1

a body covered in the golden burial shroud of Apollo’s cabin. I didn’t know who was underneath. I don't want to find out. (pg 303) -1

Oddly enough, we actually miss the moment that was probably the worst for the Olympians, the final push by Kronos that breaks through their line. After Clarisse slays the drakon and the monsters are driven back again, Percy and co. take the opportunity to go up to Olympus. Percy gives Pandora’s Pithos to Hestia, and then contacts Poseidon via his throne. It’s just as he finishes that Thalia comes up and tells them that Kronos is coming again, but they miss the fighting.

By the time we got to the street, it was too late. Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must have lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice. The centaurs were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d panicked and ran, or they’d been disintegrated. (pg 312) -<500

And finally, Kronos does kill some people on Olympus itself.

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half. (pg 322) -1<

The specific deaths we have mentioned during the battle amount to 48 at the very least; and that is an extremely conservative estimate that only includes the deaths Percy has the time and presence of mind to witness in all the carnage. Considering how many others must have happened, factoring the sudden disappearance of the 500 centaurs in particular, it was likely in the hundreds. And most of the centaurs probably ran at the end, but even that would have involved heavy casualties.

It’s true that actual demigods were a smaller fraction of Olympian forces, and so would have made up just a fraction of losses. The number 16 might actually make sense if it were just the number of campers lost, but that’s not what Hecate said, she said total.

It might be significant that Hecate is the actual source of this misinformation. Would she have reason to lie to her own son, or might she herself be out of the loop. Right now, we just can’t know. 

And she might be underestimating Titan Army losses too. Considering how many times a wave of several hundred monsters tear into Manhattan, and get thrown back by the Olympians only to return later with no discernable drop in numbers, until the army is finally routed entirely, it wouldn’t surprise me if the TA actually took a thousand or more casualties. But those would be overwhelmingly monsters, because:

Part 2) Less Than Fifty Demigods Were Even In The Titan Army

To prove that there could not possibly have been hundreds of TA demigods killed at Manhattan, we need look no farther than Alabaster's own account.

“There was a war between the gods and titans last summer and most half-bloods–demigods like me–fought for the Olympians.” (pg 218)

So the TA could not have had more demigods than the Olympians; and they had about a hundred. There are forty campers to start with, who are quickly joined by the Hunters, who now have thirty members. Then, in the last hours of the fight, they are finally joined by the Ares cabin, which brings another thirty (jeez Ares, you animal!). So Olympus has an even hundred demigods. (The Hunters aren’t necessarily all demigods by birth, but I don’t think Alabaster would make a distinction based on that.)

So the TA has less than a hundred demigods, significantly less. I would argue they probably had no more than fifty because that lines up with the only solid numbers we ever get for them. And every time the TA is described, demigods are a clear minority. First, look at the foes Percy encounters when he infiltrates the Princess Andromeda:

I saw monsters patrolling the upper decks of the ship–dracaenae snake-women, hellhounds, giants, and the humanoid seal-demons known as telkhines . . . . . “I don’t care what your nose says!” snarled a half-human half-dog voice—a telkhine. “The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!” “Meatloaf sandwiches are good!” a second voice snarled . . . . . a telkhine was hunched over a console . . . . . a half dozen telkhines were tromping down the stairs . . . . . past another telkhine . . . . . And in the fountain squatted a giant crab . . . . . a couple of dracaenae slithered across my path . . . . . As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down . . . . . Laistrygonian giants filed in on either side of the swimming pool . . . . . demigod archers appeared on the roof . . . . . two hellhounds leapt down . . . . . The crowed of monsters parted . . . . . Giants jeered. Dracaenae hissed with laughter . . . . . throwing monsters off their feet . . . . .I knew him, of course: Ethan Nakamura . . . . . two giants lumbered forward . . . . . Panicked monsters surged backward . . . . . one of the dracaenae hissed . . . . . I pushed through a crowd of monsters . . . . . Monsters yelled at me from  above.

That was a quick summary of all the enemies Percy and Charlie encounter on the Princess Andromeda, I’m not crazy enough to try and write the whole chapter. But it’s pretty clear there are only a few demigods amid dozens of monsters. We hear the same thing from Poseidon later, that “there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship”; we might question whether or not Poseidon is a trustworthy source, but the evidence does back him up.

When we finally get to the battle, the disparity of demigod numbers in the TA is again evident:

The bronze image showed Long Island Sound near La Guardia. A fleet of a dozen speed boats raced through the dark water toward Manhattan. Each boat was packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flapped in the night wind. I’d never seen that design before, but it wasn’t hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos. “Scan the perimeter of the island,” I said. “Quick.” Annabeth shifted the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry was plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck was crowded with dracaenae and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship was a pod of marine mammals. At first I thought they were dolphins. Then I saw their doglike faces and swords strapped to their waists, and I realized they were telkhines—sea demons. The scene shifted again: the Jersey shore, right at the entrance of the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters were marching past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclopes, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of the way as it rumbled into the tunnel. (pg 167)

Here we see the first wave of the Titan Army as a three pronged attack (which Percy says on the next page collectively numbered at least 300) and only one of the units has demigods. It’s the one that Kronos leads, so it’s probably meant to be a more elite unit, at least at first. 

We don’t know for sure how many there are. Speedboats are usually made to carry 4-6 people so a dozen would be possible 48 to 72. Considering Alabaster says there were significantly less demigods in the TA than the Olympians, I would guess it’s on the lower end; and that does match another number we see in a moment.

This fleet never reaches Manhattan, since Percy bribes the East River to swamp their boats. Those who say many TA demigods were killed in the battle might point to this as Percy causing a bunch of kids to drown; but Alabaster never mentions a mass drowning in his narrative of the battle, and he would have been on one of those boats, so it’s safe to say they just went for a swim.

(And Kronos was with them, which means that a very angry titan lord was suddenly pitched into the river and had to swim with the rest of them. That’s not really relevant, I just want everyone to know that.)

Percy is then immediately told that “Another army is marching over the Williamsburg bridge.” This fourth prong of the attack, led by the Minotaur, also has no demigods in it.

An entire phalanx of dracaenae marched in the lead . . . About a hundred more monsters marched behind them. (pg 182) More monsters surged forward —snakes and giants and telkines—but the Minotaur roared at them, and they backed off. (pg 186)

But more monsters keep advancing because by the time Percy kills the minotaur and the demigods charge and rout the whole group, it had grown to 200

Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred. (pg 188)

So the grand total for the first TA attack was 500 soldiers or more, with only 40-70 of them demigods. And after the monsters on the Williamsburg bridge retreat, those demigods show back up.

Then I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armor, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design.  The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold. (pg1 188)

This is the only time we get anywhere close to a specific number when TA demigods are concerned. It would have been the same group that was sunk in the East River, who then had to swim for Brooklynn; which is where they are now trying to take the Williamsburg bridge. This reinforces the idea that the number of demigods in the boats was only a little more than forty, since they would not have suffered more than a few injuries in the sinkings.

I’m going to come back to this moment later to demonstrate how Percy refrains from killing other demigods, even in his Achilles state, but the other important thing to note is that this is the last time Kronos organizes his demigods into a unit that he leads personally. After they fail to break through here, Kronos just has them take on a secondary role, and puts his faith in bigger and bigger monsters to lead the charge instead.

The Titan Army units on Long Island then spend the evening marching the long way around Manhattan (for some reason) because they make camp for the night in New Jersey, at Medusa’s old lair. Percy again describes demigods as the small minority.

Hundreds of tents and fires surrounded the property. Mostly I saw monsters, but there were some human mercenaries in combat fatigues and demigods in armor too. A purple-and-black banner hung outside the emporium, guarded by two huge blue Hyperboreans.

And this is only part of the Titan army, because there are more troops north of Manhattan. 

“Tell my brother Hyperion to move our main force south into Central Park. The halfbloods will be in such disarray they will not be able to defend themselves.” (pg 237)

The army that marches into central park is bigger than the one camped in New Jersey. And it is made up exclusively of monsters. 

At the north end of the reservoir, the enemy vanguard broke through the woods—a warrior in golden armor leading a battalion of Laistrygonian giants with huge bronze axes. Hundreds of other monsters poured out behind them. (pg 243)

There is not a single mention of a demigod. However they’re already joining the fight in other places. 

When it flew above the rooftops, I could see fires here and there around the city. It looked like my friends were having a rough time. Kronos was attacking on several fronts. (pg 251)  

After Percy kills the Clazmonian Sow, the momentum of the battle shifts. With his main force failing to deliver a knockout punch, Kronos has his remaining armies spread out to put equal pressure on the entire defensive line, and catch it in a massive envelopment.

Midtown was a war zone. We flew over little skirmishes everywhere. A giant was ripping up trees in Bryant Park while dryads pelted him with nuts. Outside the Waldorf Astoria, a bronze statue of Benjamin Franklin was whacking a hellhound with a rolled-up newspaper. A trio of Hephaestus campers fought a squad of dracaenae in the middle of Rockefeller Center . . . . . The hunters had set up a defensive line on 37th, just three blocks north of Olympus. To the east on Park Avenue, Jake Mason and some other Hephaestus campers were leading an army of statues against the enemy. To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover’s nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a  squadron of Kronos’s demigods . . . . . I spotted a familiar silver owl banner in the southeast corner of the fight, 33rd at the Park Avenue tunnel. Annabeth and two of her siblings were holding back a Hyperborean giant . . . . . The next hour was a blur. I fought like I’d never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods . . . . . At one point Grover was next to me, bonking snake women over the head with his cudgel. Then he disappeared in the crowd, and it was Thalia at my side, driving monsters back with the power of her magic shield. Mrs. O’Leary bounded out of nowhere, picked up a Laistrygonian giant in her mouth and flung him like a Frisbee. Annabeth used her invisibility cap to sneak behind enemy lines. Whenever a monster disintegrated for no apparent reason with a surprised look on his face, I knew Annabeth had been there . . . . . Kronos was riding towards us on a golden chariot. A dozen Laistrygonian giants bore torches before him. Two Hyperboreans carried his black-and-purple banners . . .

“THEN THE WINGED HUSSAARSSS AARRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVED” SABATON BLASTS ON ELECTRIC GUITAR

 Sorry, sorry, I mean then Chiron and the 500 centaurs arrived!

Kronos’s forces looked as confused as we were. Giants lowered their clubs. Dracaenae hissed. Even Kronos’s honor guard looked uneasy. Then, to our left, a hundred monsters cried out at once. Kronos’s entire northern flank surged forward. I thought we were doomed, but they didn’t attack. They ran straight past us and crashed into their southern allies . . . a shower of arrows arced over our heads and slammed into the enemy, vaporizing hundreds of demons. (pg 258)

This is how the second phase of the battle ends. And during the entire night, out of a sea of monsters (hehe) we only see one unit of TA demigods. And it’s the last time we get any reference to them participating in the battle.

After being driven south, the TA apparently did another long march, because they make camp northeast of Manhattan.

The Titan army had set up camp all around the U.N. complex. The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies—helmets and armor from defeated campers. All along First Avenue, giants sharpened their axes. Telkines repaired armor at makeshift forges. (pg 282)

Ethan is the only demigod mentioned this time. And he doesn’t appear to take part in the next attack, aside from releasing the drakon. We get less of a description of the enemy army this time, but it’s all monsters.

The rest of the battle wasn’t going well. The centaurs had panicked under the onslaught of giants and demons. An occasional orange camp T-shirt appeared in the sea of fighting, but quickly disappeared.  (pg 289)

Of course the Ares cabin arrives, the drakon kills Silena, and Clarisse kills it. It’s another rout for the TA.

The monsters retreated toward 35th Street. (pg 298) There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. (pg 299)

After that we have the final phase of the battle, when the Titan Army finally breaks through the Olympian lines. But once again, we have no reference to demigods other than Ethan.

The Titan Army ringed the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos’s vanguard was in the lead: Ethan Nakamura, the dracaenae queen in her green armor, and two Hyperboreans. I didn’t see Prometheus. (pg 312) “ROWWF!” Mrs. O’Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. (pg 315) There were thousands of [skeletan soldiers], and as they emerged, the titan’s monsters got jumpy and started to back up. (pg 315)     The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan’s monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect pedestrians as best as he could. My parents ran toward me , dodging monsters and zombies, but there was nothing I could do to help them. (pg 318).

The fight continues like this, until Typhon is destroyed, and the defenders are joined by the gods, and Poseidon’s army of cyclopes. It’s then that the Titan army is “massacred.” Most of the fandom thinks that the demigods were killed too, but that’s not the case.

PART 3: The TA Demigods Deserted Before The Final Battle

As Alabaster remembers it:

the war didn’t go our way. I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran. Kronos himself marched on Olympus, only to be killed by a son of Poseidon. After Kronos’s death, the Olympian gods smashed any remaining resistance. It was a massacre. “We weren’t all destroyed,” Alabaster said. “Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy. (pg 219)

When you look at this narrative, and compare it to The Last Olympian, it’s actually more complicated than the TA demigods simply getting massacred.

Al says that while he was fighting, most of his allies ran. That’s odd, because we don’t see the relative numbers of monsters go down at any point. What we do see, is the number of demigods go down.

As I illustrated in Part 2, the Battle of Manhattan has four distinct phases. Phase one, that ends when the Williamsburg Bridge is destroyed. The second phase, that starts when Hyperion attacks Central Park, and ends when the Party Ponies arrive. The third phase, which is all about the attack of the drakon. And the final phase, when Kronos breaks through.

We only see TA demigods in the first two phases; they attack the Williamsburg Bridge in the first phase as part of the Kronos’s main force, then in the second phase they’re relegated to a supporting role by hitting the defenders western flank. And that’s the last we see of them. After that, Etahn is the only demigod left standing in the TA. Alabaster must be somewhere in the background, as a retcon, but there’s no one beyond the two of them.

You might think that they’ve just already been killed by this point. After all, Percy blows up the Princess Andromeda, then goes into an Achilles Curse fueled berserker mode several times in the first two phases of the battle. Surely he must have killed hundreds of kids, right?

No, not even close.

Maybe not any at all.

On the Princess Andromeda Percy finds lots of monsters, but the number of demigods he finds could be counted on one hand. And the first one he meets; Percy spares him and tells him to get his friends and evacuate. We can’t prove whether or not any demigods were killed in the blast; we just know that the two we can confirm were still on board, Ethan and Alabaster, both survived. And when Alabaster recounts it, he doesn’t mention any bad losses at this point.

As for the Curse of Achilles, it doesn’t send Percy into anything like the berserker state some people think of it as. It might seem like that when Percy lets loose on the Williamsburg Bridge:

You’re going to ask how the whole “invincible” thing worked: if I magically dodged every weapon, or if the weapon hit me and just didn’t harm me. Honestly, I don’t remember. All I knew was that I wasn’t going to let these monsters invade my hometown. I sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. I slashed and stabbed and whirled, and I might have even laughed once or twice—a crazy laugh that scared me as much as it did my enemies. (pg 188)

But when push comes to shove, Percy can control the Curse, and what he does during it. That last moment was when he was fighting nothing but monsters. But when the TA demigods arrived, Percy pulled his punches like he always does.

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren’t monsters. They were demigods who’d fallen under Kronos’s spell. I couldn’t see faces under their helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they’d better dismount and fight me on foot. (pg 189)

Percy is still in complete control of what he’s doing; even when the worst happens.

“Annabeth!” I turned in time to see her fall, clutching her arm. A demigod with a bloody knife stood over her . . . . . I locked eyes with the enemy demigod. He wore an eye patch under his helmet: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. Somehow he’d survived the explosion on the Princess Andromeda. I slammed him in the face with my sword hilt so hard I dented his helm. (pg 190)

Percy really has all the reason to hate Ethan at this point; after Percy spared his life in Antaeus’ arena, Ethan still joined the side that had been ready to write off his death, and deliberately helped Kronos achieve his physical resurrection. Because of that Percy’s friends and even-Riordan-doesn’t-know how many mortals are going to die in the next few days; and on top of all that, Ethan just stabbed the love of his life.

And all Percy does is knock him out, maybe a little harder than necessary. He makes no effort to kill him. Those aren’t the actions of a berserker with no control.

In fact, the knife turns out to be poisonsed. And Ethan now has an idea where Percy’s Achilles Spot is, and might tell Kronos. And even after all of that, Percy doesn’t seriously think about killing him as an option.

“I’ll bonk him on the head harder next time.” (pg 241)

But more on topic, there is no reason to think the TA demigods have particularly high casualties in this phase of the battle, though they have a few:

Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding. (pg 189)

Though it’s vague if they are hitting the riders or the horses. In fact, it might actually be Kronos who’s responsible for more of their losses.

[Kronos] struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke’s own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. (pg 192)

I will die on the hill that between this, Ethan, and other implied moments, Kronos killed more of his own demigods than Percy did.

In the second phase of the battle, when we see the TA demigods attack again, they’re in a very different situation.

To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover’s nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a  squadron of Kronos’s demigods. (pg 255)

This is the only thing we see the TA demigods do as a group in this phase; and they’re fighting people who are using very defensive tactics, more hampering than harmful. They’re not likely to lose many fighters. A few of them do cross Percy’s path in the chaos, but even at his most Achilles fueled chaos he never loses control.

The next hour was a blur. I fought like I’d never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods. (pg 257)

He talks about killing monsters, but always “knocking out” demigods. Finally, that phase of the battle ends when the centaurs show up. Did the centaurs kill any demigods? After all, Percy said they “trampled everything in their path.”

Well the only report we get on the TA demigods puts them to the west. When the centaurs attack, they come out of the north east and drive the enemy south, and start off a wave of panic that ripples down the enemy lines ahead of them. The demigods were probably running before any centaur reached them, and might have had better chances of being trampled by their own monsters.

So if the TA demigods aren’t taking many losses, where do they all go in the third and fourth phases, when we don’t see any except Ethan?

They desert. 

Alabaster: “I fought on the battlefield against the enemy, but most of our allies ran.”

I think the demigods of the TA signed up with no real idea of what would happen when they fought the Olympians. They thought they were going to have a sure victory. 

Chris Rodriguez said it in SOM:

“I hear they got two more [drakon] coming,” [Chris] said. “They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!” (pg 122)

Alabaster C. Torrington said it in SOM:

“Kronos wasn’t supposed to lose! You said the odds of winning were in the Titan’s favor! You told me Camp Half-Blood would be destroyed!” (pg 196)

And they probably weren’t well prepared for the war either. At one point Luke says they will fight well because he has been training the army. But most of them join because they are the children of minor gods who swear for Kronos, and that doesn’t happen until the end of BOTL, after Luke has been possessed. Most of the TA demigods never got training from him; including their two highest ranking members, Ethan and Alabaster. It’s no wonder most of them weren’t prepared.

As I was running up the stairwell, a kid charged down. He looked like he had just woken up from a nap. His armor was half on. He drew his sword and yelled, “Kronos!” but he sounded more scared than angry . . . . No way was I going to hurt him. I didn’t need a weapon for this. I stepped inside his strike and grabbed his wrist, slamming it against the wall. His sword clattered out of his hand. (pg 18)

And the demigods might not hold much loyalty to Kronos, a violent and temperamental eldritch horror!

Ethan moistened his lips. “He’s still fighting you, isn’t he? Luke—” “Nonesense,” Kronos spat. “Repeat that lie, and I will cut out your tongue. The boy’s soul has been crushed.” (pg 236) “But, my lord,” Ethan said. “Your regeneration.” Kronos pointed at Ethan, and the demigod froze. “Does it seem,” Kronos hissed. “that I need to regenerate?” Ethan didn’t respond. Kind of hard to do when you’re immobilized in time. Kronos snapped his fingers and Ethan collapsed. (pg 284)

And the demigods might have witnessed a darker side to his army that we didn’t.

Back on my first visit to the Princess Andromeda, my old enemy Luke had kept dazed tourists on board for show, shrouded in Mist so they didn’t realize they were on a monster infested ship. Now i didn’t see any sign of tourists. I hated to think what had happened to them, but I kind of doubted they’d been allowed to go home with their bingo winnings. (pg 15)

So, the demigods deserted. After the second phase of the battle we don’t see any at the Titan camp at the U.N., or taking any part in the last phases of the battle. They had been fed false promises, were treated badly, and were being sent against enemies out of their league.

“Most of the remaining half-bloods fled or were captured. They were so demoralized they joined the enemy.”

All except two, Alabaster and Ethan. The son of Nemesis, who has already given so much and is so desperate to see something good and fair come out of it; and the son of Hecate, who was promised victory, and is desperate to avenge the death of his siblings. Ironically, the two demigods who stayed loyal to Kronos the longest, did so because they had faith in their godly parents.

So if there was no “massacre” of TA demigods at the end of the Battle of Manhattan, why is Alabaster so insistent that there was one? 

“Yes,” Alabaster said bitterly. “Camp Half-Blood decided that they would accept any children of the minor gods. They would build us cabins at camp and pretend that they didn’t just blindly massacre us for resisting. (pg 220) “But I’ll never bow to the Olympian gods after the atrocities they committed. Their followers are blind. I’d never set foot in their camp, and if I did, it would only be to give that son of Poseidon what he deserves.” (pg 221)

Well, it’s because the children of Hecate suffered the most in the war. She didn’t have as many children as other gods, and Alabaster was the only one to fight in it and survive. He claims he convinced “most” of his siblings to join; but if Hecate does not have many children, and he is the only survivor of the battle, how are there still enough of his siblings to decently fill a cabin, it’s likely “most” was only slightly more than half. The sad irony is that the fact that the smaller group of demigods had more casualties than the larger ones (and it sounds like not just more proportionately, but more in actual numbers), also kind of disproves that there could have been a large massacre that affected them all.

Alabaster was a scared, frustrated, exhausted kid; who convinced his siblings to fight in a destructive war, and was the only one of them to survive. To him, that is probably always going to feel like a brutal massacre.

[novaursa]

The Last Dance

- Summary: The Dance of the Dragons is over. You and Aegon finally find peace.

- Paring: twin!sister reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin sister and wife to Aegon II, and is bonded with dragon called Starfyre. These events happen right after The Searing Flame. To read all of the chapters in chronological order, or more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 119

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: This is the chapter that finalizes this series. That being said, there will be more twin!reader/Aegon II stories to fill the gaps.

The air is filled with the scent of salt and smoke as you stand on the balcony of Dragonstone, the sea churning below in restless waves. The horizon is cast in hues of deep purple and amber as dusk sets in, but your attention is wholly on the sky, where two golden streaks dart through the twilight. You feel Aegon’s presence beside you, a warmth against the cool stone at your back. His scarred arm is under your hand, his skin rough and uneven beneath your touch, a harsh reminder of Rook’s Rest and the countless betrayals that led you here.

Yet there’s still strength in him, a burning defiance that never faded even after all the wounds. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way he seems to hold his breath as he watches Sunfyre and Starfyre circle above. It’s not just the raw power of your dragons that grips him—no, this is something more primal. It's the joy of seeing them together again, as they were always meant to be: siblings, mates, war-dragons forged in the heat of fire and vengeance.

“There,” Aegon murmurs, his voice low, strained. He points to a shadow in the clouds—Grey Ghost. The wild dragon had stayed hidden for so long, slipping through the cracks of Dragonstone’s defenses, but not tonight. Sunfyre and Starfyre had scented him out, and now there would be no escape.

You tighten your grip on Aegon’s arm, feeling the thrill of it, a dark satisfaction blooming in your chest. The shadow resolves into a shape—a dirty, scarred creature with wings tattered from battles long lost. Grey Ghost is no match for your dragons, but he’s quick, darting between clouds, trying to outmaneuver the gleaming pair that pursue him.

Starfyre leads the chase, her silvery form a flash of brilliance in the twilight, her scales glimmering like starlight against the darkening sky. The alabaster undershine of her wings catches the last of the sun’s rays as she twists and turns, a deadly dance that lures Grey Ghost into false confidence. Her movements are elegant, fluid—every beat of her wings purposeful, calculated. The Star Dame, as you’ve come to call her in the intimacy of your thoughts, is a creature born of night and light, her presence both ethereal and deadly.

Sunfyre is close behind her, a shimmering blaze of gold that seems almost unnatural in its brilliance. The awkward bend in his healed wing does nothing to diminish his ferocity—if anything, it makes him all the more terrifying, a creature that defies the laws of nature, a king among dragons that should have been crippled but refused to be. His roar echoes across the sky, a sound of pure fury that reverberates through your chest, making your heart race.

“They hunt as one,” you whisper, awe lacing your words. You lift your head from Aegon’s shoulder to look up at him, catching the gleam of pride in his eyes. “It’s beautiful.”

Aegon’s mouth curves into a small, crooked smile, a hint of the man he was before the war marred him. “Beautiful, yes. But more than that—vengeance.” He says the last word with a bitterness that lingers in the air. Sunfyre and Starfyre had been denied their chance to fight side by side for too long, much like the two of you. But now, the skies belong to them again, as they should.

You don’t respond, letting the sight before you speak for itself. Starfyre suddenly plummets, diving at a steep angle that seems reckless until Grey Ghost veers, startled by her speed. It’s then that Sunfyre strikes, a burst of flame searing the air as he barrels into Grey Ghost from above, jaws snapping at the smaller dragon’s neck. Grey Ghost shrieks, a sound full of desperation as he tries to shake free, but Sunfyre holds on, his talons digging deep into flesh.

Starfyre swoops in, her silvery wings flaring as she joins the fray, her jaws clamping down on one of Grey Ghost’s wings. You watch as she tears through it with merciless precision, ripping membrane and bone with a single twist of her head. Blood sprays across the sky, dark and ominous, and Grey Ghost’s struggles grow frantic, but they’re futile. Starfyre and Sunfyre tear into him together, a dance of coordinated destruction that speaks of deep, intrinsic connection.

“Together, they’re unstoppable,” you breathe, unable to tear your gaze away. You feel Aegon’s fingers intertwine with yours, his grip tight and possessive. He’s watching them too, but you know he’s seeing more than just dragons tearing apart a weaker foe—he’s seeing the future, the strength you still hold, the power you’ll wield together to take back what was stolen from you.

When Grey Ghost finally falls, his body torn and mangled, he drops like a stone into the sea below. You both watch in silence as the waves claim him, dragging him under until he’s nothing more than a memory.

Starfyre and Sunfyre wheel in the air, circling each other before flying back towards the keep. The bond between them is palpable, a mirror of your own with Aegon. Sunfyre’s awkward wingbeat matches Aegon’s own struggles, while Starfyre’s radiant strength reflects the resilience you’ve both clung to, even in the face of loss. The dragons’ victory is your victory, and as they draw closer, you feel a sense of unity, of destiny.

Aegon turns to you then, his scarred face shadowed but his eyes burning with resolve. “We will reclaim what is ours, Y/N,” he says, his voice a quiet promise. “With our dragons, with our strength—we will not be broken.”

You meet his gaze, and there’s a fierce pride in your chest as you nod. “We are not broken, Aegon,” you reply softly, but with steel in your tone. “We are fire and blood.”

As the night closes in, the sky dark and filled with stars, you stand together in silence, hand in hand. Sunfyre and Starfyre land on the courtyard below, their golden and silver scales gleaming even in the dim light. They are kings and queens among dragons, just as you and Aegon are meant to be.

And as long as they soar, so will you.

The dread in the throne room is thick enough to choke on as you stand beside Aegon, your hand resting lightly on Daena’s shoulder while Baelon clutches the edge of your gown. The echo of footsteps and clinking chains resound through the stone chamber as Alfred Broome and his men drag the remnants of Rhaenyra’s forces into the hall. They are bruised, bloodied, and defeated—a pale reflection of the power Rhaenyra once held. Among them, her young son Aegon clings to her, his eyes wide with fear as he takes in the fearsome sight of the dragons looming in the distance outside, their golden and silver forms visible through the open arches.

Sunfyre and Starfyre wait like harbingers of death, gleaming in the twilight.

You feel Aegon’s arm tense beside you, a flicker of pain passing through him from his old wounds. But there’s more than just physical pain here—there’s a deep, simmering rage that’s been brewing since the moment Blood and Cheese ripped your family apart. You and Aegon have been waiting for this moment, dreaming of it in your darkest hours. And now, it’s finally here.

Rhaenyra is forced to her knees before you, her once-proud visage a mask of defiance even in chains. She looks older than you remember, her face gaunt and hollow, but her eyes still blaze with the stubborn arrogance that led her here. Her remaining Queensguard lie dead, slain by your forces as they tried to resist one last time. There is no one left to protect her.

You meet her gaze with cold satisfaction, leaning forward slightly as you speak, your voice sharp as a blade. “We have long awaited this moment, Rhaenyra. Ever since you sent those assassins to kill our sons—two innocent boys, slaughtered because of your ambition.”

Rhaenyra’s lips tremble, but she doesn’t back down. “My sons died as well, Y/N,” she retorts, her voice shaking with fury. “Jace, Luke, Viserys… you cannot know that pain.”

“You dare to compare?” Aegon’s voice cuts through the air like the crack of a whip, silencing her. He steps forward, the limp from his injury barely noticeable as his anger gives him strength. “This war began because you could never let go of our father’s lies. He promised you the throne, and you clung to that entitlement like a drowning woman clutches driftwood.”

Rhaenyra opens her mouth to speak, but Aegon doesn’t let her. “You speak of your lost sons as if their deaths were a justification for your madness, but it was your own hubris that led them to the grave. If you had shown even a hint of reason, none of this would have happened. Y/N and I never wanted the crown. We only wanted to love each other and grow old with our children. But the crown was pushed onto us—pushed by your ambition and vanity.”

Your heart twists as you think of the peaceful life you and Aegon could have had, far from the bloodshed, if only Rhaenyra had accepted the reality of your father’s death that relinquished her claims. But that was never an option for her, was it? Pride, ambition, and greed had consumed her until there was nothing left but this hollow shell of a queen.

Rhaenyra’s defiance cracks then, her eyes filling with desperation. “Please, Aegon—Y/N—my son—”

But Aegon’s gaze hardens. “It’s too late for pleas, Rhaenyra. Your choices have brought us to this point, and now they will swallow us all. Even your precious children.”

You see the flicker of fear in her eyes, the realization that there will be no mercy here. This is no place for mercy. This is retribution.

With a nod from Aegon, the great doors are opened, and Sunfyre’s golden form stalks into the throne room, his scales gleaming like molten gold in the torchlight. His eyes are locked on Rhaenyra, filled with a burning hunger that reflects the rage in Aegon’s heart. Starfyre follows him, her silvery wings brushing the stone walls as she moves with lethal grace, her pale blue undershine glowing like moonlight on water.

Rhaenyra tries to scramble back, pulling her son behind her, but she is chained, her movements futile. “No… please… not like this…”

The lords and ladies captured alongside her begin to cry out in terror as they realize what’s about to happen, but their voices are drowned out by the low, rumbling growl from Sunfyre. Aegon takes a step forward, his voice cold and resolute as he gives the command that seals his half-sister’s fate. “Dracarys.”

Sunfyre’s roar is deafening as flames erupt from his maw, engulfing Rhaenyra in a searing blaze. Her screams are short-lived, drowned in a cacophony of dragonfire and crackling flesh. Starfyre joins in, her breath cold and silver, mixing with Sunfyre’s golden flames in a mesmerizing yet horrifying display of raw power.

The smell of burning flesh and melting metal fills the air as the dragons tear into what remains of Rhaenyra, their jaws snapping and rending flesh. The lords and ladies bound beside her wail in despair, some of them collapsing to the floor as they are forced to watch the gruesome feast. Elinda Massey’s shrieks are especially piercing as she claws at her own eyes, unable to bear the sight.

But it isn’t over. Not yet.

Young Aegon, Rhaenyra’s last remaining son, stands paralyzed with terror, his small body trembling as he stares up at the dragons. You feel a pang of pity—he’s just a child, after all—but that pity is fleeting. This is the price of war, of ambition that knows no bounds. There can be no loose ends, no heirs to continue the cycle of bloodshed.

You turn your gaze away as Aegon gestures for the guards to push the boy toward the dragons. Sunfyre sniffs him, his nostrils flaring, but it’s Starfyre who moves first. She lowers her great head, her eyes glinting as she opens her jaws wide and snaps them shut around the child in one swift motion. There is no scream this time—just silence as she swallows him whole.

A hush falls over the throne room, broken only by the crackling of fire and the quiet sobbing of those left alive. Aegon turns to you, his expression unreadable, but you see the weariness in his eyes, the weight of everything that’s passed. “It’s done,” he says softly, and you feel the words settle like stones in your chest.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice distant, “it’s done.”

The war may not be over, but this chapter has ended in blood and flame. You can only hope that, when the ashes settle, there will be something left to rebuild. Something more than this endless cycle of death.

But for now, all you can do is hold your children close and hope that the fire will fade, that peace will come in its wake—even if that peace is a fragile dream, trembling on the edge of a knife.

The sun is low in the sky as your carriage finally creaks to a halt outside the Red Keep. The city is cloaked in uneasy silence—no cheers greet your return, no banners wave in celebration. King’s Landing feels hollow, as if the ghosts of those lost in the war still linger in its streets. You step out first, the weight of the crown heavy on your brow. Aegon follows, his limp more pronounced after the long journey, yet he holds his head high, his expression a mask of stoic resolve. Your children, Daena and Baelon, cling close to you, their wide eyes taking in the somber scene as they disembark from the carriage.

Ahead of you, standing at the base of the steps leading up to the Red Keep, is your mother, Queen Alicent, her face drawn with lines of sorrow and weariness. Beside her is Helaena, her once-luminous eyes now dulled by grief and loss. They are the last remnants of your family, the survivors of a war that has cost you all more than you could have imagined.

Alicent's breath hitches when she sees you, her eyes scanning you and Aegon as if needing to assure herself that you are truly there, alive and whole. Tears glisten in her eyes, and she covers her mouth with trembling fingers as her composure shatters. “My children,” she whispers, and it is as though the weight of years collapses in those words—years of fear, of war, of loss. She hurries forward, her regal bearing breaking into a desperate, motherly rush as she throws her arms around you both, clutching you as if afraid you might vanish like so many others.

“Oh, my children,” she sobs, her voice cracking with emotion. “You’ve returned to me.”

Aegon wraps his arm around her, his scarred hand shaking as he holds his mother close. “We have, Mother,” he says softly, though there’s a hollowness to his tone. The joy that might have been there is tainted by the ghosts of those who aren’t here to share this moment. “But we return to ashes.”

Alicent pulls back slightly, looking at the both of you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I prayed for this day—prayed every night that you would survive, that you would come back to us.” Her eyes flit to the children—her grandchildren—and fresh tears spill over. “But at what cost? Daeron, Aemond—” Her voice breaks entirely, and she covers her face, unable to continue.

Aegon’s jaw tightens. You see the storm of guilt and grief flash across his features as he looks away, unable to meet her gaze. You reach out and grasp Alicent’s hand, squeezing it tightly as you fight to hold back your own tears. “We all bear the weight of those losses,” you say quietly. “But we are here now, and we are together. We must hold on to that, for their sake.” You glance down at Daena and Baelon, who watch their grandmother with wide eyes, not fully understanding the depth of the grief surrounding them.

Helaena, who has been standing silently, finally steps forward. Her movements are slow, almost ghostly, as if she is a shadow of the woman she once was. Her gaze lingers on Aegon for a long moment, searching his eyes, before drifting to you. “The dreams never lie,” she murmurs, her voice distant and laced with sorrow. “They all fade, in fire and blood.” Her words are eerie, a chilling echo of all that has transpired, but they carry a truth that cuts deep. Helaena’s prophecies have always carried an edge of tragedy, and now, you see the weight of them fully realized in her vacant stare.

Aegon steps toward her, gently taking her hands in his. “We’re still here, Helaena,” he says softly, though there is a break in his voice. “You, Y/N, me, Mother—we’re still here. We will rebuild, for their memory.”

She nods slowly, but you see no hope in her eyes, only resignation. “They dance no more,” she whispers, looking past you as if seeing something far beyond the physical realm.

Alicent wipes at her tears, her hands shaking as she does so. “Come inside, all of you,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “You need rest, and there’s much to discuss. But first, let us be together as a family.”

You nod, though the word “family” feels strange on your tongue now. So much of it has been torn away—brothers, sisters, sons. Yet, you follow Alicent and Helaena up the steps, Aegon at your side, your children between you. Inside the Red Keep, the warmth of the hearth contrasts sharply with the chill that clings to your soul. The familiar halls seem both comforting and haunted, each shadow hiding memories of the past.

Alicent leads you to the council chamber, where a small, intimate table has been set, not for matters of state, but for a quiet meal. Servants flit about with anxious glances, aware of the tragedy that hangs in the air like a storm cloud. You all sit, and for a long moment, no one speaks. The silence is heavy, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

Aegon is the one who finally breaks it, lifting his cup. “To those we’ve lost,” he says, his voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “And to those who still remain.”

You lift your own cup, feeling the burn of unshed tears behind your eyes. “To those who remain,” you echo, and the words are a fragile hope, a thread of unity in a world torn apart by fire and blood.

As you drink, you feel a sense of finality settling over the room. The war is over. The Dance has ended. But you know, deep down, that the scars it has left—on your family, on your kingdom, on your very soul—will never truly heal.

The chamber is dimly lit by the soft glow of a few scattered candles, their flickering light casting something akin to ghots long forgotten on the walls. The room is familiar, yet it feels almost foreign after all the horrors you’ve endured—so much time lost to war and death, to bitterness and grief. But now, for the first time in what feels like ages, you’re alone with Aegon, away from the eyes of lords and courtiers, away from the weight of the crown and the ghosts of the past.

The door clicks shut behind you, sealing you both within the warmth of the chamber. Aegon pauses by the threshold, his hand still resting on the handle as he takes a deep breath, as if he’s trying to steady himself, to remember that he’s home. You watch him in the flickering candlelight, the lines of his face etched deeper from the burdens he’s carried, but he’s still the man you fell in love with, still the boy who smiled at you with mischief in his eyes.

He looks at you then, and the tension that’s been holding him rigid melts away. His gaze softens, filled with a longing that nearly breaks you. Without a word, he crosses the room and pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your hair as if he needs to feel you, to know you’re truly there. You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight, and for a moment, neither of you speak—there are no words for the relief, the overwhelming need to be close after so much time apart.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice rough and choked with emotion. “I’ve missed you. So much.”

You tilt your head back, meeting his gaze. His eyes are shadowed with pain and fatigue, but there’s a warmth there too, a flicker of the love that has always burned between you. “I never let myself forget,” you whisper, reaching up to trace the scar on his cheek, a mark from Rook’s Rest that he wears like a badge of survival. “Even in the darkest moments, I held onto us. I held onto you.”

Aegon’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that slips free. “I don’t know how we did it,” he admits, his voice cracking. “But we’re here. We’ve made it through everything they threw at us, every nightmare. You were the light that kept me going, Y/N. You always have been.”

His words are like a balm to the ache in your heart, the wounds left by loss and betrayal. You lean into his touch, savoring the warmth of his palm against your skin, the familiarity of it. “We’ve lost so much,” you say softly, your voice trembling as memories of those you loved flash through your mind. “But we still have each other. As long as we have that, we can rebuild.”

Aegon’s lips quirk into a faint smile, though it’s tinged with sorrow. “You’re right. We still have each other. And I swear to you, Y/N, I’ll never let you go again. Never. We’ve been torn apart too many times, but that ends now. No more battles, no more wars. Just us.”

He bends down then, his forehead resting against yours as his hands cradle your face. “Promise me, Y/N,” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. “Promise me we won’t let anything—or anyone—come between us ever again.”

You close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s tender but laced with a desperation that speaks of all the pain, the longing, the fear of losing one another. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss, pouring everything he feels into it—his love, his regret, his need.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. “I promise,” you whisper against his lips. “No matter what comes, we face it as one. I won’t let you go either, Aegon. Not ever.”

The shadows in his eyes soften, replaced by a rare glimmer of peace as he rests his forehead against yours again. “Together, then. Always.”

The warmth between you grows as he slowly guides you toward the bed, the softness of the mattress beneath you a welcome comfort after all the cold, hard battles you’ve faced. He lays beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your bodies are entwined, your head resting against his chest as you listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers trail lazily through your hair, a touch that’s both soothing and intimate, grounding you in this moment.

You turn slightly in his embrace, pressing a kiss to the scarred skin of his chest, a reminder of how close you came to losing him. “You’re mine,” you murmur softly, your voice thick with emotion. “And I’m yours. No one will ever tear us apart again.”

His grip tightens around you, as if the very thought of losing you is unbearable. “I’ll spend the rest of my days proving that, Y/N,” he vows, his voice low and filled with a fierce protectiveness. “I’ll give you the peace we’ve been denied. We’ll raise our children, grow old together, just as we always dreamed.”

In the quiet of your shared chambers, there’s no need for crowns or titles, no need for anything but each other. The world outside is a distant memory as you close your eyes, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around you like a protective shield. You let yourself drift in that moment, in the certainty that, no matter what comes, you and Aegon are what remains.

For now, there’s only peace, the kind you’ve fought so hard to find. And in the comfort of each other’s arms, you know that no matter how many battles you’ve fought, the war for your love is one you’ve already won.

From this moment, the histories diverge depending on which account one prefers to trust: the sober record of Grand Maester Orwyle, the poetic tales of Septon Eustace, or the salacious rumors spread by the fool Mushroom. Yet all agree on the most important details: the years following the Dance of the Dragons were marked not by further bloodshed, but by an unexpected peace.

The Golden Restoration

The reign of King Aegon II and Queen Y/N saw a return to stability in the realm, albeit built on a foundation of ash and charred bones. The devastation left by the war was undeniable, yet it was under their rule that the rebuilding of King's Landing began. With Dowager Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena ever at their sides, the royal family focused on mending what was broken, both in the capital and within their own hearts.

Many lords whispered that it was Y/N, the Silver Queen, who held the true power in those years. Aegon, scarred both inside and out by the horrors of the Dance, found solace and strength in his wife, who had proven herself his equal in fire and resolve. Together, they were inseparable. It was said that not a single important decision was made without their mutual consent, and that in private moments, they ruled as one, much like Sunfyre and Starfyre—mates in both life and flame.

Their children, Princess Daena and Prince Baelon, grew strong and healthy under the care of their parents and grandmother, Alicent. The two were doted upon, not merely as heirs but as symbols of the future—unbroken despite the tragedy that had marked their early years. As time passed, the bond between Daena and Baelon deepened, mirroring that of their parents. It was said that they were closer than most siblings, so close that when they were of age, they wed in the tradition of House Targaryen, cementing their bloodline and continuing the ancient customs of their house.

The Brood of Sunfyre and Starfyre

In the year 137 AC, three eggs were laid in the royal dragonpit—eggs said to be the offspring of Sunfyre and Starfyre, the twin flames that had seared Rhaenyra Targaryen from the earth. Two of these eggs hatched, producing dragons of extraordinary beauty: one with scales of pale gold streaked with silver, and the other shimmering with blue-tinged starlight. These dragons were gifted to Daena and Baelon on their wedding day, marking the start of a new generation of dragonlords, free from the taint of the Dance.

Yet even in this time of renewal, darkness lingered in the shadows. Helaena never recovered fully from the loss of her own children and her brother-husband, Aemond. She remained a distant figure, often lost in her dreams and visions. Some say she foresaw her own death, whispering of “faded light” and “withered roses” in her last days. When she passed away in her sleep in 139 AC, it was whispered by Mushroom that she had seen a final vision: a land where the dragons had turned to dust, and no kings ruled but the winds.

Dowager Queen Alicent outlived her daughter by a scant two years. Her grief had aged her beyond her years, and she spent her final days in prayer, seeking forgiveness for the bloodshed her ambitions had caused. In her final hours, she clutched the hands of Aegon and Y/N, begging them to remember the lesson learned in blood: that the pursuit of power, when unchecked, only breeds ruin. It was said that Y/N, ever compassionate, was the one who comforted Alicent in her last breath, whispering that peace had been found at last.

The Passing of the Dragon-King and Queen

The final years of Aegon and Y/N’s reign were marked by a quiet contentment. They ruled justly, often seen together in council or riding their dragons above the skies of King's Landing. The scars of war never fully faded, but together they created a realm that prospered. Yet even the most enduring fires must one day burn out.

In the year 151 AC, King Aegon II and Queen Y/N were found dead in their shared chambers, lying in each other's arms as if asleep. Some claim they had simply grown weary, their bodies giving out after years of bearing the weight of the crown. Others, more fanciful in their tales, whisper that they passed together in a moment of shared peace, their hearts giving out at the exact same instant. Mushroom claims that a vial of poison was found beside their bed, suggesting they chose to leave the world together, unwilling to face a life without the other.

When their bodies were discovered, Sunfyre and Starfyre howled in mourning, their roars shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. The dragons, who had never been separated, circled the skies together before landing side by side in the dragonpit, refusing to be parted. In a rare display of affection between beasts, they nuzzled one another and remained in that position until the end of their days.

The bodies of Aegon and Y/N were burned together on a single pyre, their ashes mingling in a final union. Their reign was remembered as the “Golden Twilight,” a time when, for a brief, shining moment, the Targaryens had found peace. But even in this, the seeds of future strife were sown—two children, two dragons, and the legacy of fire and blood that would never truly be quenched.

Thus ended the tale of King Aegon II and Queen Y/N, the last Targaryens to die in each other's arms, bound in life and in death by the fires they had endured and the love they refused to surrender.

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

Here's the second prompt of my Penny Dreadful Series for the SPOOKINKY event by the lovely @tsukimefuku ... This is about GOJO x DR.JECKYLL AND MR HYDE... Hope you'll like it!

Summary: after weeks of chaste dating, you finally get to discover the hidden side of Gojo's identity... 😏

4.3k words (sorry this turned out endless 😅)

Warnings: smut/nsfw (unprotected pinv,mentions of praise kink, soft bondage, edging and overstimulation) and dark content (body horror descriptions) ahead---MDMI!

This fic is dedicated to @gojhoes :of the kindest souls on this Earth🩵

"I learned to recognise the thorough and primitive duality of man; I saw that, of the two natures that contended in the field of my consciousness, even if I could rightly be said to be either, it was only because I was radically both."

-R.L. Stevenson

💙GOJOO💙“Good morning, sweetheart. How is my princess today? Looking forward to Halloween 👻 🎃 can't wait to see your pretty face again”

 A smile lights up your drowsy face as you shuffle toward the kitchen, the remnants of sleep still numbing your muscles. The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a pale glow over the room just as a notification from Gojo Satoru, that enigmatic boy you’ve been dating for a while, shatters the quiet. His clear, cerulean eyes captivated you from the moment he first said 'hello,' and since then, you have been ensnared by his cheeky smile, a playful secret hidden behind his angelic façade.

You read his message again, feeling a thrill dance along your spine: you’ve never quite understood how Gojo always seems to know when you wake, even though he is currently abroad for work. Each morning, your phone vibrates on the bedside table, precisely at the moment you stir from sleep. It’s as if his mind is somehow connected to you, a ghostly presence lingering in your routine. This is but one of the many mysteries cloaked within the curve of his lips.

No matter how your bond has been growing stronger by the day lately, there remains a vast chasm of secrets between you. Indeed, you still know very little of his life, and at times he becomes elusive to your questions: you’ve learned he is some sort of teacher during your last date at a quaint downtown bakery, abruptly interrupted by a frantic phone call from two breathless children. You watched, heart racing, as his alabaster brows knitted together in concern, his expression darkening before he disappeared in the crowded streets of Tokyo, leaving you with nothing but the faint echo of his hurried apologies.

On that particular afternoon, just before his sudden departure, he had surprised you with your first, fleeting, passionate kiss—elusive and intoxicating. His lips brushed against yours without warning, igniting a fire that left you breathless, a mere flicker of what was to come. He pulled away, leaving you dazed, his trademark smirk lingering in the air like smoke from a dying fire. Each encounter with him is like a storm—unpredictable, electric, and utterly consuming.

Though your time together is limited by his mysterious work, each moment is charged with an intensity that makes the air around you crackle. Yet, as the time to part draws near, you are always left with an insatiable thirst for more—a yearning to delve deeper into his world, to bask in the light of his presence. You find yourself anxiously awaiting Halloween night, the date of your next rendezvous, when you will finally meet Yuji and Megumi, the boys Gojo mentors.

A flicker of hope stirs within you. You know he will have to drive the boys back to their dorm at midnight, meaning that you two probably won't get to indulge in a passionate night together, but a part of you—one that has been aching for weeks—hopes that tonight will be different. You crave the feel of his hands on your body, an electric connection that has yet to be fully realized. His teasing stares, his accidental touches, the sly innuendos that always charge the air around you with a crackling sexual tension —will they finally culminate in something more? You can’t shake the nagging thought that perhaps he doesn’t desire you as much as you crave him. You can't help wondering why such a confident and cheeky guy hasn't laid a finger on you yet otherwise…

Shaking your head to dispel such thoughts, you remind yourself to embrace the moment. You begin your day, anticipation thrumming in your veins like a heartbeat, until finally, Halloween night arrives.

…

You step out, the city cloaked in an eerie ambience, shadows stretching as if alive, whispering secrets of the night. The sky is a swirling mass of clouds, translucent specters drifting against a backdrop of a pale, full moon that casts an unsettling light over the streets. A gentle breeze nudges you closer to your destination, the air thick with the scent of autumn and the faint echo of laughter from masked children.

As you approach, the moon breaks free from the veil of clouds, illuminating the figure of Gojo in the distance. He stands with an effortless grace, leaning against the sleek door of his Tesla, casual yet striking—his leather jacket unbuttoned at the neck, revealing a glimpse of his alabaster, toned chest beneath. His sunglasses, a puzzling accessory for the night, lend him an eccentric charm under the neon glow of nearby clubs.

For a moment, you cannot help but admire him, the way his messy, white hair falls across his forehead, how his presence seems to draw the very essence of the night towards him. He almost glows, ethereal in the midst of the crowd, a guardian angel in the crowd.

Yet, as you near, an unsettling sensation prickles at the nape of your neck, a sense that something is amiss. The thrumming energy of the crowd—children and adults alike, lost in their masquerades—feels like a collective wicked ritual, a dance of shadows and light.

Just as you are about to call out to Gojo, a hoarse voice slithers from a darkened alley, pulling your attention away. “Pretty girl, come closer, please…” You turn, heart racing, to find the figure of a grotesque old woman, her hunched frame pressed against the cold pavement, a deck of worn tarot cards clutched in her gnarled hands. Taken aback by her rough voice, you freeze midstep, imagining the woman, probably a beggar, is in need of help: “Excuse me…you meant me? How may I help you? Do you need anything?”

“Perhaps I am the one who can help you, my dear…” Her voice trembles with an otherworldly timbre. The old woman’s face tilts up, revealing eyes that are eerily closed, as if she were a specter herself. “Spare change in exchange for a revelation… I can offer you a glimpse into the mysteries of the man who has stolen your heart...”

You find yourself captivated, a shiver racing down your spine. “Choose a card,” she beckons, her voice laced with a knowing that sends chills coursing through your veins. “The tarot always knows what lies hidden in the folds of time.”

With bated breath, you reach for a specific card of the worn-out deck, the air thick with anticipation, ready to unveil the secrets the universe holds for you.

XVIII. The Moon. Reversed.

“What an intriguing card, my dear…” she muses, her voice low and conspiratorial. “Intuition. Yours has already whispered many truths tonight, even those you dare not voice. Secrets. Some of them will be soon revealed… and then…Duality… the moon has always two faces; do not be deceived by its bright side. Remember, nothing is ever as it appears! Now go, your moon awaits, and you do not wish to keep it waiting…”

As the old woman’s words reverberate in your mind, you feel the weight of her prophecy settle upon your shoulders like a shroud.

Your evening begins with a familiar thrill as Gojo greets you with an unexpected embrace, his warmth enveloping you, careless about Yuji and Megumi’s amused gazes studying his open display of affection towards you. Yuji greets you warmly as soon as Gojo lets go of your embrace. Megumi eyes you down perplexed at first, just to surprise you with a final, small smile of approval, while Gojo opens the car’s door for you, signalling your empeding departure. “The guys adore you already...” Gojo says while turning the engine on, ready to pull up. He smiles sheepishly at you “...who wouldn’t fall for such a doll face?” his right hand leaves the steering wheel to find your hand, entwining your fingers. You feel a spark of warmth spreading through your chest at his sweet gesture. 

But as the night unfolds, the mysteries deepen, and the boundary between light and shadow begins to blur, leaving you to wonder just how far into the darkness you are willing to venture for the sake of desire and discovery.

…

Gojo was a riddle wrapped in an enigma, and tonight, the air crackled with an electric tension that hinted at the secrets he was guarding. “ Tonight is all for us, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low, sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “We have a couple of hours all to ourselves before we pick up the boys… and tonight, I mean getting to know you better…”

His warm hand found its way to your exposed knee, caressing it sensually, igniting a fire within you that you had long kept hidden. Your breath caught in your throat, and in this intoxicating moment, all doubts and fears evaporated. All that mattered was the sensation of his knuckles brushing against your skin, tracing a tantalizing path up your thigh, dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

A mischievous grin spread across his face as he noticed the goosebumps that danced along your skin. “What’s wrong? Are you cold, honey?” His teasing voice was laced with a playful challenge. “Look at you, you’re shivering… is there anything I can do to warm you up?” There was a deliberate pause, as if he were savoring every second, before he added with a smirk, “Maybe we should just stay here in the car instead of taking a walk outside in the cold.” He deftly shifted his hand to the car controls, cranking up the heat, but the warmth he offered was nothing compared to the heat building between you.

You cleared your throat, desperately suppressing a groan of frustration at the sudden interrupt of his touch, and replied, “Thanks… I think it would be a really good idea to… get to know each other better.” A gleam of mischief sparkled in his eyes as he turned the car down a winding dirt road that led deep into the heart of a thick, shadowy forest. The moon hung high above, casting an ethereal glow that illuminated the foliage, a stark reminder of the woman’s ominous words that echoed in your mind.

Every fiber of your being buzzed with anticipation, and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper, something darker, lurked beneath the surface. Gojo’s demeanor shifted, his usual playful confidence replaced with an intensity that made your heart race. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning white as he focused on the path ahead. “I know we both want what’s about to happen tonight, and believe me, there’s nothing I want more than to know the pleasure you can give me, darling… but promise me one thing…”

His request was tinged with a vulnerability that struck you as unexpected. Flattered and intrigued, you nodded. “If… anything strange should happen…at any point…please stop me.. I don't want to.. get lost in the moment…and make you uncomfortable” A spontaneous laugh escaped your lips, the absurdity of his warning catching you off guard. “Strange? Gojo, this is not my first time, I know how it goes…are you some kind of perv? I bet deep down you hide the new Christian Grey behind that angel face…I wouldn't mind that at all actually…” sensing his growing desire at your playful words, you decide to tease him even further “Oh wait… Now I get why Yuji addressed you as ‘the Strongest’ with that little smirk before we left… I  can't believe you boast about your sexual life with your students…you're definitely a perv!” Your voice lowered to a sultry whisper as you leaned closer, teasingly tickling his neck. “Am I right? Are you known as ‘the Strongest’ in this?”

A deep, throaty moan escaped him, the sound vibrating through the air, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through you. In an instant, he brought the car to a halt in the thick of the woods. The fog outside enveloped the vehicle, creating an intimate cocoon that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

Gojo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours hesitantly, as if afraid you might shatter at any moment. “Let's just say I treasure some ...techniques of mine. But I want to take things slow with you tonight…” he whispered back to you, leaning forward to the passenger seat “Don't think you can understand everything about my strength this soon… I would never want to overwhelm my princess.”  His hot breath tickled the skin of your neck, and at this point your mind was already too entranced by his closeness to even notice the hint of sincere concern in his voice. He was clearly trying to distract you from asking further questions, but you were totally oblivious of it. The kiss began slowly, a soft exploration, but quickly ignited into something  more fervent. Your tongues danced, and his hands roamed over your body, igniting every nerve ending with his touch. The world outside faded into nothingness as your breaths mingled, each inhale steeped in the heady mix of passion and urgency.

As his hands travelled from your hips to your breasts, a low growl of desire escaped his lips, and the kiss deepened, transforming into something primal and hungry. The condensation on the windows thickened, obscuring the outside world, but the sounds of the night crept in—rustling leaves, distant howls, the echo of something lurking in the shadows.

His fingers found their way beneath your clothing, teasing you until you were gasping with need. Your body betrayed you, betraying the wave of overwhelming desire that washed over you, leaving you breathless and wanting more. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” he murmured, his hand guiding yours to rest on his jeans, letting you feel the growing evidence of his desire. It felt warm and your eyes widened as you felt his cock hardening further under your hand, his body responding to your touch. “Fuck, you’re so sweet.” he moaned, gripping on your shoulders and pushing you flush against him. You could feel the moment you longed for approaching and barely managed to hide your excitement.

Just as the tension reached a fever pitch, Gojo’s attention snapped to something outside the car: His lips pulled away from yours abruptly, as he turned his head back, sensing a mysterious, impending danger from outside. His features darkened and a visible unease settled over him. Frustrated and flustered, you still couldn't understand why he was acting like that all of a sudden “Hey babe…What’s going on? Hey…” you started, but he was already out of the car, locking you inside. Panic surged as you called out to him, your voice swallowed by the thick fog.

You pressed your palms against the glass, trying to peer into the darkness, but the world outside was a murky abyss. Now you started to hear some confused noises, animalistic cries you have ever heard before…The unsettling sounds grew louder, a cacophony of primal growls and rustling that sent chills racing down your spine. And then…

 “WHAT THE FUCK-,” you gasped, heart pounding, as a monstrous face suddenly materialized at your window, its grotesque features illuminated by the moonlight—inhuman eyes, a gaping maw filled with sharp teeth.

Where was Gojo? Before you could even scream, a flash of blue light pierced through the fog, illuminating the night. Gojo emerged from the mist, his striking blue eyes glowing like twin stars in the darkness. He approached with an unsettling calm, his demeanor shifting into something fierce and predatory.  As you watched in horror from the passenger seat, Gojo leaned out of the car window, his expression disturbingly calm. In a swift, fluid motion, he seized the creature’s head, detaching it with a strength that defied belief: the creature, a grotesque blend of twisted limbs and snarling features, writhed in its final moments, its inhuman shrieks piercing the night sky. Gojo grasped the creature's decaying head, the wet sound of flesh tearing filled the air, and blood splattered against the glass like a macabre painting.

For an eternity, he stood there breathing heavily,holding the severed head aloft like a grotesque trophy. His white, messy locks falling in his face rhythmically, almost hiding his blue eyes, now glowing brightly with a sinister, unnatural sparkle in the midst of the darkness. His big hands held the severed head, his expression obscured by the shadows that danced across his features. Then, a haunting smile unfurled on his lips, sending a jolt of fear and thrill through you. He reached for his phone, and called someone: after a while a feminine voice picked up the call…you tried to catch a glimpse of the short and crypto conversation he was having: the woman at the other side must have been his colleague, Shoko Ieiri. The few words you heard clearly made your eyes widen, leaving you with a sense of impending dread. “I got the sample…it seems to have a material body. A cursed womb?… I’ll bring it to you at school tonight… yes, I’ll leave it in your lab. See you soon.”

As the car door swung open again,you understood the boy you had been kissing just moments before had transformed. Who was this cold, feral man sitting beside you? And where did he do to your Gojo ? The playfulness had vanished, replaced by a chilling intensity that sent a shiver through your entire being. “Here I am, sweetheart. Sorry for making you wait. Work is work; I hope you can understand… where were we?” even his tone sounded differently, lowered by an octave and conveying a hint of danger.

You stared at him, confusion etched on your face as your trembling hand hovered above the splatters of fresh, dark blood on his cheek. “You…you’re… stained… the blood…” Your voice trembled, breaths coming in jagged gasps.

Seeing the fear in your eyes, Gojo’s expression softened momentarily, the atmosphere shifting back to the warmth you used to know “Don’t be scared, please… I think you can now guess the reason of Yuji’s words…I belong to a hidden part of society: my clan belongs to the chaste of people who can see curses - this means…I am a sorcerer, the Strongest on Earth to be precise… this implies…there's a darker part of me that you don't know yet…sometimes it comes to the surface…and that's what it unleashes…” he paused, searching for any signs of discomfort on your face “Is this too much for you? Do you think you can still... Accept it?”

Your heart raced as you tried to process his words, adrenaline coursing suddenly through your veins: you felt an unexpected rush of desire. You crashed your lips against his once more, the taste of blood and danger igniting a fire within you. “Sorcerer or not… Blood still looks good on you; it’s almost…endearing” you admit shyly, your voice laced with a mix of fear and appreciation.

A shiver ran through him at your words, and the spark of madness flickered back to life in his eyes. “Do you think this side of me is sexy?” he growled, a predatory edge now creeping into his voice. “Now I’ll show you what I can become.”

With a zeal that took your breath away, he dragged you to the back seat, tearing your clothes off with a fervor that was both thrilling and terrifying. His kisses were fierce, biting into your neck as you moaned in pleasure, lost in the intoxicating haze of desire. “Be a good girl for me… Just like that… let me feel how much you want it…is it better now? I bet you wanted it rough from the very first moment”

You surrendered to the moment, the world outside forgotten as you explored the depths of his dark desires, entwined in a dance of ecstasy that blurred the lines between pleasure and peril, love and madness. The forest whispered secrets around you, as shadows deepened and the night became an ally to your most primal instincts.

You find yourself irresistibly drawn to his lips once more, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt to unveil a torso that seemed sculpted from the purest alabaster, each muscle defined and glistening under the dim lights. Your hands glide down, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, where you discover him, rigid and unyielding, as if chiseled from the very essence of desire. Your fingertips dance along his length, slickened by the tantalizing bead of precum, igniting a primal groan that escapes his lips.

"Stop. Playing. With. Me." he growls through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching, each word a low rumble filled with a raw hunger that sends shivers down your spine. Yet the sight of Gojo's dominant side only stirs your defiance; you smirk, biting your lower lip in a way that teases the last crumble of his restraint.

In an instant, he lunges, pinning you beneath him, a predatory gleam in his azure eyes that speaks of insatiable lust. With swift movements, he secures you with the seatbelt, a binding that both confines and excites, as he plunges into you with a ferocity that borders on madness. The leather seat cradles you as his body claims yours. His whispers—unholy and fervent—fill your ear, intertwining with the frantic rhythm of his thrusts.

Your body writhes beneath him, struggling to accommodate his size as he lifts your legs in a mean mating press, positioning you in a way that elicits gasps of pleasure from your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, rolling back in bliss as each thrust strikes your sweet spot with a precision that sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you. His grip on your ankles tightens, leaving marks of possession, a crimson hue blooming on your skin.

“Please… don’t stop… oh… feels so good,” you manage to articulate between breaths, your desperation palpable. A brand new, incredibly powerful pressure builds in your core, an impending wave crashing against the shore of your sanity. You claw at his biceps, fighting against the constriction of the seat belts wrapped around your wrists, in the attempt to hold on to him, leaving scratches down his popping muscles, while teetering on the brink of euphoria.

But just as you feel the gates of paradise beginning to part in front of you, the sharp sensation of your nails digging into his flesh pulls him back from the brink. The gentler side of Gojo emerges, his rhythmic assault halting as he brushes stray hair from your damp forehead, concern etched into his striking features. “Sorry… I let him… take control. Is it too much? Are you okay?” he breathes heavily, his voice a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity.

Frustration bubbles within you, a mixture of disbelief and longing. “ Oh No…Just shut up and fuck me, Satoru,” you demand greedy and harshly, your hips grinding against his, desperate for the friction that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

“Here we go again…” A wicked smile spreads across his lips as the dominant Satoru reclaims the moment, his eyes igniting with unholy delight. He resumes his fervent pace, deciding to test you even further: he starts tormenting you to madness, drawing small, fast circles on your swollen clit with the determined aim of pushing you closer to the edge once more. Reduced to a quivering mess, you whimper and beg for release, every sound a testament to your total submission.

“Do you know how beautiful you look when you’re close to your limits? How hard I get in front of your pretty face begging me to let you come?” he taunts, a spark of madness dancing in his gaze. A shiver races down your spine as he continues, “I want to see that face… over and over again tonight.” His cock twitches within you, a sadistic promise echoing in the depths of your mind, the world outside forgotten as you plunge deeper into this carnal abyss.

The endless cycle of pleasure and denial blurs time as his personalities intertwine within your very being, each thrust a reminder of his dominance, each shift a new wave of ecstasy. Until finally, he grants you release, the highest of highs exploding within you, while your bullied gummy walls flutter around him in a frenetic dance, your whole body unraveling as you succumb to the powerful climax, collapsing against him. Incapable of holding on any longer in front of such a marvellous sight, Gojo follows you into the forbidden paradise of maddening pleasure soon after, exploding in a series of forceful, copious spurts of thick seed, hitting your cervix , proving you further overstimulated pleasure bordering with delicious pain.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight…” he whispers against your forehead,  his breath warm, the frenzy in his eyes now dimmed to a soft glow. “Well…” he chuckles, his tone teasing as he helps you gather your still trembling self. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind for our first time together, but I think we can agree it surpassed any expectation.” you let out a tired,contented sigh, running your hands in his hair, caressing his nape sofly right above his undercut “ that was perfect, indeed…just…I was scared you would never let me finish at some point… guess you also have the ‘strongest stamina’” you joke “by the way..how long has it been?” You pull back slightly to look up at him with a questioning look. His eyes wide as the picture of Yuji and Megumi waiting for you on the sidewalk out of the cinema, pissed by his usual delay. “Oh shit…I forgot …Yuji and Megumi should be done with the movie by now..” he stood up in an uncoordinated motion and gently helped your still trembling form to get dressed.

You leave the darkness of the wood behind under the pale rays of a sneering moon, finally in full display, free from the veil of clouds: he starts the engine and drives back to the city, the remnants of your wild encounter linger in the air, unbothered by the chilling presence of the demon’s severed head resting in the trunk, a stark reminder of the darkness that lingers just beyond the thrill of your desires.

This is the song I had in mind writing this...(I would say Number 18 would suit better😅)

[freddie-77-ao3]

random facts about random riordanverse characters from my characters doc:

percy jackson: thalia once dyed his hair neon green (which, he has black hair, so no clue how) and it lasted for two weeks before washing out entirely

thalia grace: actually very close to will solace. he treated her when she first woke up, and reminded her of jason. she's basically a big sister now. she threatened nico about him.

nico di angelo: got so nervous about asking will out he accidentally asked in chinese, before reverting to welsh, and then latin. finally, he stutters it out in a mix of greek, italian, and english (luckily will understands all three). unfortunately, will responds in sign language for some reason??? nico doesn't know sign language.

meg mccaffrey: meg has a horrendous obsession with gatorade. like. she won't drink water, it's gatorade or nothing. apollo is SO concerned because he doesn't know what gatorade is and also it looks VERY unnatural.

leo valdez: not only can he cook tacos, he knows how to make tamales. actually, while on the argo ii, he and percy made most of the food. this man can COOK.

will solace: has a habit of always carrying pens around with him (both as a way of keeping close to michael, who collected pens before his death, and just bc he's in the infirmary so much) and he clicks them ALL THE TIME as a fidget. people forcibly take them from him sometimes.

Annabeth Chase: she's autistic and so is her dad. part of why they have so much trouble having a good relationship with each other. they both have really black and white thinking styles.

Calypso: she's like 7 feet tall.

Magnus Chase: he really likes the chronicles of narnia series. when he was a kid, he dressed up like the lion for three halloweens in a row. his favorite is the lion the witch and the wardrobe.

Alex Fierro: felines are easier than canines in regards to shapeshifting.

Sadie Kane: she likes strawberry ribena the best

Carter Kane: he wants to grow his hair out. when he's in his twenties, he does. sadie helps him braid it.

Clarisse La Rue: after her mission in ttc, she's extremely claustrophobic.

Piper McLean: the reason she was so against feminine stuff in TLH is because she was so sexualized by the media when she was girly. so she openly rejected it.

Travis Stoll: makes oddly specific t-shirts about what happens at camp. like, “I defeated the greek personification of time this summer and all i got was this lousy tee shirt.”

Connor Stoll: isn't dyslexic. loves reading.

Katie Gardner: she drops out of college after her first semester. it just wasn't for her. she owns a flower shop called petal to the metal, where she says "have a punk rock day" to all her customers.

clovis: he doesn't actually need to sleep 24/7, he just doesn't want to interact with people.

Cecil Markowitz: a threesome baby. no, really. he's 25% his mum, 25% his dad, and 50% hermes. he-- he has a lot of questions and no answers, and that's probably for the better.

Lou Ellen Blackstone: she's black, and usually keeps her hair in braids. before alabaster torrington defected he did it (he's white, learned just for her), and after, beckendorf did her hair.

Zoe Nightshade: she's regenerating. she was a titaness, she'll be back.

Lee Fletcher: he dropped out of high school. it wasn't for him. got his GED and took college classes on the side til he died, but personally modern schooling wasn't really for him.

Rachel Dare: when she turns 21 and gains access to her trust fund, she immediately donates the entire thing.

Hazel Levesque: definitely the person who always has a cardigan/sweater for you to use if you get cold.

Frank Zhang: goes back and finds his grandmother after HoO

Jason Grace: jiper was comphet. he's gay.

Reyna: didn't actually join the hunt. i don't think that really is a natural character ending? she is ace though.

Grover: turns out pan passing his spirit on to grover actually made grover a god?? yeah grover didn't realise for //years//

juniper: fought in the battle of manhattan. she just brought a couple of her berries with her.

Chris Rodriguez: following going insane and becoming sane again, he develops anorexia to regain his sense of control over his life.

Drew Tanaka: she's actually aro-ace.

Malcolm Pace: in an effort to always be prepared he sleeps in jeans and street clothes, and always has a bag of supplies on him.

Ellis Wakefield: is from somalia. his first language is somali. he speaks somali, english, arabic, and greek.

Mitchell: went to military school for a bit. has a habit of calling people sir/ma'am after every sentence now.

michael yew: has the gift of prophecy, knew going into manhattan that he was going to die.

miranda gardiner: summer only camper, takes over counselor during the summer (katie doesn't want it. also she's vietnamese. i know thats two facts i just think it's important.

sherman yang: he has two dads. his mortal dad's name is jeff. sherman sees him like, one week every two months? jeff lives in seattle.

jake mason: he's got a fish named bubbles. he says it's because harley wanted to name it. he lies.

silena beauregard: summer only camper, she volunteers at a domestic abuse shelter during the year, and hopes to go into social work.

charles beckendorf: he was 16 when he died, but had finished HS work 2 years early. had been accepted to MIT. he wouldn't have gone, anyway, because of the expense, too far from camp, but-- it had been a nice dream

Nyssa Barrera: she's a year round camper, and always been mad that taking care of harley fell to her.

Lacy: physically disabled. she's got JRA, and is in a wheelchair part time.

Harley: really likes unsweetened cheerios.

[j0kers-light]

His Angel: Unexpected Encounter (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Unexpected Encounter

series summary:

Y/n is secretly a guardian angel with a home base in Gotham City. All of your previous assignments have passed on peacefully and you fail to take on another; much to your counsel's growing concern. You spend your days blending in with the citizens of Gotham until an unexpected encounter throws your entire existence upside down.

chapter summary:

Years have passed since that fateful night. Your fellow counsel means well wishing to assign you a new target, but none feel right. You still harbor that inner fault and nothing can fix what has broken. That is until you venture down below and wind up in an unexpected encounter.

author's note:

ITS TIME!!! I give you the first chapter out of a total of ten for His Angel! This hit me late Wednesday afternoon and I literally wrote this chapter in under two hours. These little fingers were getting it!! It's a great intro chapter!

This series is heavily inspired by the following song. I do hope you enjoy the beginning to a wonderful journey. 🖤✨

Taglist:

@alittlesmartcookie @reneisance @cheetahspy @darthjokerisyourfather @xxrougefangxx

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Angel taglist! Be alerted when the story updates! 🖤✨

Next Chapter

A feeling like no other. Excruciating and unfathomable, a constant reminder of how you failed.  

In the blink of an eye, your purpose— what should have been your greatest triumph, was snatched away and in its wake, a well of resentment remained.  

You loathed your negligence and strived to redeem yourself. You scoured the Earth, searching, hoping for forgiveness in the form of reason. Nothing came of it and as time passed, the consensus was absolute. You failed and nothing would change that.  

These halls once brought you a great sense of joy. Warm, gilded, and brimming with purpose, you felt at home as you floated through its labyrinthine corridors.  

You lost such sentiments years ago.  

These days, the sacred walls felt judgmental upon each dead end you came across hence the reason you moved away. The shadow of your former self became too much to bear. You changed, and the counsel was forever understanding of your woes.  

By no means were you banished, in fact—you were one of the most revered angels above. Your reputation preceded you, and none would ever rise to your station. 

And yet, how have you fallen.  

Your footsteps were light against the pristine marble floors. Your time spent living with humans made you forget that you could defy gravity. Walking was just second nature to you now.  

You arrived in an open area where an old friend stood waiting. He blended in so well with the white alabaster stone that you almost didn’t spot him. He didn’t notice your presence and you were quick to change that by striking up a conversation.  

“It is said your ears are the sharpest in the clouds.” You smirked when your friend jumped in fright. “And yet I’ve startled you.” 

The being turned around and graced you with his beauty. One look into his milky white eyes and there was no escape. That is, if you were weak in body.  

Ario knew you were mostly immune to his charm but decided to lay it on thick for old times' sake. You arched an eyebrow at his poor attempt.  

He circled your form twice before bowing at the waist. “What an honor! The Great Y/n graces me with her presence. Still as radiant as ever I see.”    

Centuries ago, you would’ve been flattered. Now, not so much.  

“Cut to the chase, Ario. I am not in the mood.” You sighed. 

“When are you.” He grumbled under his breath. He flew a short distance over to the balcony edge. Vines and ethereal flora crept up the ancient stone making a serene but secluded space.  

A pale finger beckoned you over. You rolled your e/c eyes but urged your feet to move even after Ario eyed you sideways for walking. 

The view was breathtaking. The two of you could see all that was beneath the sea of clouds. Earth from above was simply beautiful. Back in your youth, the sight never failed to make you tear up. Today you took it for granted.  

Your eyes flickered back towards Ario, urging him to speak. He admired the view a bit more before sighing.  

“I see you are pressed for time; I will make myself short. You’ve been on an extended leave for decades Y/n. I worry.”  

You glanced down at Ario’s hand resting on your arm. You could see that he was touching you, but besides that, you were unable to feel the physical contact.  

“Your worry is misplaced.” You jerked your arm away and focused your sights on a little sprite floating near an Edelweiss flower. The sprite sensed your presence and shined brightly for you. 

Ario heard rumors of your drastic change in personality. He thought it was all heresy for you were known by your warm aura and gentle spirit. The woman before him was cold and detached despite standing in one of your favorite grottoes. Something had made you bitter and he wanted to find out what.  

“Y/n. Don’t you find it odd that you haven’t had an assignment in ages? Even you aren’t above reproach. Either something is wrong or....” Ario’s voice trickled off the second you unfurled your wings in anger. 

“Or what?” You seethe.  

Dark as the night, your wings expanded as they blocked out all light in the grotto. The sprites and other animals in the vicinity fled and Ario was forced to turn his head away in humility. You outranked him in every way and deserved respect.  

Deep down you knew Ario meant well. He could simply be a messenger of this bad news. If that were the case, then it was wrong to unleash your frustration on him.  

“Forgive me. I will open my mind to your words.” You took flight for a second to perch yourself on the balcony ledge. A brief compromise if you will.  

Ario smiled at your legs kicking in the air. It was nice to see your whimsical personality still with you. One day he would have his old friend back, he just had to deal with this latest version until then. He leaned on the balcony by your side in earnest.  

“There is an assignment we think is best suited for you.” Ario looked up in shock when you hopped down. “Hear me Y/n!” He called after you.  

He blocked the exit with his wingspan and came face to face with your disapproving frown. Even while displeased, your beauty remained. He wondered who was charming who.. 

Ario knew if you wanted to pass, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger to move him.  

You wanted to hear what he had to say. You returned home of your own accord after so many years away. That had to count for something. Perhaps you were longing for purpose once more.  

Ario used that thread of hope to his advantage.  

“He is doing good for the humans. Fighting crime, purging the city of evil doers..” Ario materialized an assignment scroll from thin air and handed it to you.  

You hardly glanced over it, “He has an armored tank and a military grade suit. Why does he require my protection?” Did the counsel think you were that desperate? A child could protect this human.  

“He’s only one man, Y/n! Just... go observe him for one night. There is no harm in that.” Ario bit his lip and softened his clear eyes. You were stronger than this but…. Ugh! His charm was getting to you, and he knew it.  

You closed your eyes to stop the spell. You needed a level head to make a decision like this.  

The last thing you wanted was a new assignment. Brief flashes of your last charge danced across your memory. You lost your touch. You failed.  

Could you suffer through another failure?  

Years had passed and still it hurt— but you longed to have purpose once again. Your only failure could not define your entire life's work. You protected so many, why did one single human affect you this severely? It was your secret, your burden to bear. Others had made mistakes. Charges sometimes couldn’t be saved.... 

But you didn’t make mistakes. You are the Great Y/n. No one could know you failed a mission. 

However, if you didn’t take an assignment, it was only a matter of time before your status would be called into question. If the counsel made an inquiry... No! 

You were a holy guardian, a protector of life. It was time you returned to your calling.  

With a heavy sigh, you locked eyes with Ario. “Fine, but this is only an observation. I will not commit myself until I feel a connection.” 

Those words would come to haunt you very soon.  

You broke through the ethereal cloud barrier and used the Gotham City pollution as a cover to tuck your wings away. 

It wouldn’t have hurt if someone saw you— there were hybrid humans in the world, but seeing a hawk hybrid is one thing. Seeing a fully realized angel would literally kill a human.  

It was best practice to apply a glamor. One less human pile of goo to clean up.  

You wanted nothing more than to go home to your apartment in The Bowery and sleep off your trip home, but duty was more important, and this was the perfect time to begin your observation. Your potential assignment was a night owl. The Batman, he called himself.  

You rolled your eyes at the dumb title. Humans were such odd creatures.  

His file was of little interest to you. Dead parents, filthy rich, yet he devoted his life to fighting crime. Now that almost made you laugh. For what could one man do to rid the world of evil?  

Absolutely nothing. All of his hard work was in vain.  

You kept that knowledge to yourself. It wasn’t your place to dabble with fate. If you accepted this charge, then you would do your best to guard this little one until his predestined time.  

At the rate he was going, it wouldn’t be long.  

Speaking of time, you entered the bank where Batman was conducting his ‘round of vengeance’ despite the late hour.  

Some humans were screaming while others wearing odd clown masks were either on the floor unconscious or still standing, trying to disarm the bat.  

Batman was just one man yet held his own against a group of five, although one did not seem human to you. There was an unnatural aura about him that made you wary.  

You leaned on a bank counter to watch the strange man laugh and kick your charge. They were ganging up on him yet, you didn’t feel anything. Odd.  

Normally an angel didn’t register pain unless they were a guardian in the presence of their charge. They shared each other’s pain within a certain distance to help the angel sense potential danger. You were in the same room and felt nothing. 

Now you were interested. It wasn’t uncommon for a connection to be delayed but it was ideal for it to occur upon first sight for it to be a successful match.   

Just then Ario’s words from earlier came back to you. “There is an assignment we think is best suited for you.” 

Unique scenarios like this were your realm of expertise. A daunting challenge for others, a mere walk in the park for you.  

Batman blocked each attack hurled his way and managed to even the score in the process. He was left standing toe to toe with the odd-looking fellow dressed in a purple suit.  

His laughter grated your nerves and soothed it at the same time. Your feathers bristled, begging to be outstretched due to the complex feeling.  

“Well Bats! It's just.... you annnnnnnnnnd me!”  

Their conversation about justice and the principle of right and wrong quickly bored you. And Ario wanted you to observe this human for an entire night? You would stay until the connection was made and then leave.  

Granted it was there, although faint— most likely because Batman was fully capable of protecting himself unless he miraculously got caught in a near death situation. You didn’t foresee that happening anytime soon, and definitely not tonight.  

You didn’t have the patience to wait around.  

You were turning to leave (and to reject this assignment) when a sharp blow to your stomach made you double over in pain.  

The counter cushioned most of your fall, but you still wheezed as you—for the first time in ages, experienced pain. Heavens, did it hurt. You did not miss this at all.  

It took you several moments to realize that the bank had gone eerily quiet, and all eyes were on you. Why were the humans staring? 

Stars above, they were staring at you.  

In your moment of shock, your glamor fell. In the middle of an armed robbery. In front of dozens of humans. Could it get any worse? 

You closed your eyes and started checking off the Unexpected Encounter protocols in your head. Blink twice, summon Amenadiel to freeze time. Proceed to erase all human memory of said encounter before.. 

“Whyyyyyyy hello beautiful.” 

Your eyes snapped open. No one was screaming and no one was being evaporated by your angelic aura.  

No, everyone was too busy watching the head robber saunter up to you.  

He had a knife in hand, and a smile stretched grotesquely on his face. Your own cheek throbbed just looking at the jagged scars. They looked familiar somehow.. you struggled to remember from where.  

A quick glance to your right confirmed your worst fear. Batman was lying on the ground, motionless.  

You failed your charge again but that was the least of your worries. This strange man had reached your side and his eyes, the most vivid shade of green you’ve ever seen for a human, was watching you in intrigue.  

They made you lose focus and become adrift at sea. Something was off about this man. A mere human shouldn’t affect you this way, let alone at all.  

He smacked his lips and pushed his hair back before grabbing ahold of your face. You could feel the texture of his gloves.  

You.. could.. feel? Nothing made any sense.  

“Did it hurt?” His words snapped you out of your fog and your guard immediately went up.  

Was this man an angel like you? How did he know about your connection link? You decided to play dumb just to be on the safe side. It could be just a coincidence. You truly hoped it was “What?” You gasped.  

“I saiddd.. did it hurT… when you, ahh, fell from heaven?” He asked.  

Your entire body tensed up. Oh Heavens above, he knew. He knew your secret.  

You knew what you had to do.  

[thesummerstorms]

Camp Half-Blood Numbers Over Time

Okay, I was originally doing this to figure out my own headcanons and confirm what I had figured out before, but I thought it might be useful to actual PJO fic writers or something.

So here's a quick reference post of the number of demigods in CHB through out the first series (not HoO or TOA) with screenshots of the relevant text evidence. Everything from The Last Olympian & "Son of Magic" is under a cut because there were more quotes to pull and things got long.

Beginning of the Lightning Thief: 100+ Campers attend CHB in the summer

(mentioned in BOTL as a contrast)

Begining of Battle of the Labyrinth: ~80 Campers left in attendance at CHB

Number of Campers dead in actual BOTL: 2+

(Lee Fletcher & Castor are confirmed dead, but more deaths are implied by the phrases "among the dead" and "there were too many goodbyes" which would be odd if only referring to two deaths)

Number of Campers Dead between Battle of the Labyrinth & Battle of Manhattan: ~1+ Beckendorf dies on screen. It's implied that there are demigods on raids and missions spread throughout the country, and we don't know the results of those.

Number of New Campers between BOTL & TLO: 0.

Number of Campers @ Battle of Manhattan: 40 before the Ares Cabin showed up.

45+ after Ares Cabin arrived. (Chris, 3 specific Ares kids, Clarisse + an unknown number of "cabin mates)

Kids left at Camp during the B.o.M.: 0 (it's unknown if the difference between the number from BOTL and those at Manhattan is due entirely to losses during the Battle of the Labyrinth or other previous skirmishes/missions.

Some of the missing numbers might be kids who chose not to fight, kids were sent home for being to young/unable to fight, kids who deserted, kids who were on other missions and couldn't make it back in time, etc.)

Campers Dead On-Screen in the B.o.M.: ~5-6 (Silena Beauregard, Ares kid eaten by Drakon, Apollo kid eaten by hellhound, Michael Yew, Apollo kid under shroud, possibly that Ares kid whose armor was destroyed by acid given what the acid did to Silena through her helmet)

Possible Off-Screen Deaths: ??? Many???

It's mentioned that some CHB demigods disappeared during the fighting.

Many are too injured to keep fighting and could have died from their wounds since only 16 Campers out of 45+ are in fighting shape on the final day of the Battle.

The Apollo cabin likely had more than three losses since they were referred to in the plural even when Michael had sent Kayla and Austin to lay traps and the one had already been killed by the hellhound, even though the only other named Apollo kid is Will. However, the exact numbers are unknown.

While Apollo went from having the second most number of kids to only having three kids at the start of at least TOA (possibly HOO? I don't remember enough to search for that) we don't know how many were lost here, how many were lost in other skirmishes, how many defected, or how many aged out after the War or left for other reasons.

Deaths During the B.o.M. per Alabaster: 16

Technically he said this was CHB 's losses total, but someone already disproved the possibility of this including the Hunters, Satyrs, centaurs, or nature spirits so we can infer it is mostly likely meant to be the number of demigods.

I don't love Son of Magic as a source for several reasons including narrator bias. Plus we know the "hundreds" of causalities can't be all TA demigods based on CHB's prior numbers and the run down the other poster did on the on screen ration of monsters to demigods in the TA.

But this is canon and isn't directly contradicted elsewhere, so do with it what you will.

New Campers who arrived after the B.O.M.:

??? Many, compared to the previous few summer's number of "new enrollments", but exact numbers are unspecified.

Son of Magic also states that some former defectors rejoined camp under an amnesty, though it's never brought up anywhere else and no numbers are given. It does seem strange that it's never a point of contention, honestly.

Ending Figures?

Because of the vagueness of the descriptions of the number of defectors and new kids, we don't end up with an updated total number of Campers. (There may be evidence in HOO but that's another post.)

Personally I would interpret it as still slightly under the enrollment during TLT. It's also going to be a really interesting dynamic because so many of the "replacement" numbers missed the war entirely but are going to be walking into a Camp that is dealing with its aftermath.

[imaginationtherapy]

Looking for something to read? How about an original series about two (gay) boys in a magical setting working alongside fae, vampires, and banshees? Well, I have the series for you!

I've been working on this series for about two years now. It started as fanfiction and then became an original series. Don't be put off by the word count, I have it on good authority from my readers that it's a "page turner" and "hard to put down".

The story starts with Euwenn Gilmore, a young man who has been cursed to never see his family or any of his friends again. Wandering the streets, he manages to save Rowan Morris from being eaten by a feral werewolf late one night. The two of them form a fast friendship, and Rowan introduces Euwenn into the world of the Pgo'm, a group of magic users, creatures, and fae who band together to form a sort of magical police force, protecting each other and the Plain from those who would use their magic for evil.

Soon, Rowan is drawn into Euwenn's battle with the evil witch Alabaster, who wants Euwenn dead. Books 1 -3 (known as Rusty Cage in the AO3 version) detail the battes against Alabaster. Book 4 (found as short stories in AO3) is a series of short stories that detail various adventures that Rowan and Euwenn have. Book 5 (currently known as Natural in AO3) is under construction and details Euwenn and Rowan's battle against a mysterious madness that seems to be affecting magic users and empaths.

If you prefer not AO3, books 1 - 3 can be found on Amazon for kindle, paperback, or hard cover (tinyurl.com/TheCurseALCH). Book 4 is in the proof stages and should be available soon.

If you do adventure with the boys, please message me and/or leave comments. Honestly, I don't care about fame or fortune ... I just want to talk about this world I've created.

Thanks!!!!

[saintsenara]

🕯️💌

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

🕯️ was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

i’ve found writing one year in every ten very difficult, because my brain and the concept of planning things tightly really don’t see eye-to-eye, so the need for a murder mystery to make sense means that writing this has not been the easiest task i’ve ever set for myself.

💌 share something with us about an up-and-coming work that has you excited!

do you like gender?

do you like lord voldemort?

do you like a serious think about how the harry potter series would be changed if its villain-in-chief was named mary rather than tom? do you like a series of profoundly unreliable narrators piecing the story together from the afterlife? do you like metafiction (lol)?

do you like a story with this as an extract?

She never blinked as much as I would have thought normal, even though the doctor said it probably wasn’t doing her any harm. You know how you get a tingle in your spine when someone’s watching you? You’d get that all the time with her, and you’d look up from your sewing or your cooking or your laundry to find her staring at you. And if you said ‘Mary, what are you doing’, even if you tried to sound as strict as possible, she would continue to look at you and you’d have the horrible feeling that she was rifling through your mind, flicking through your thoughts and feelings and secrets and memories. 

Then, all of a sudden, she’d look angelic, and say ‘I don’t believe I was doing anything, miss.’ 

And she’d smile and leave, and you’d stand there, feeling as though you ought to have done something differently, but not being quite sure what.

But, when you saw her later, at the dinner table, she’d have such a sweet, innocent look on her face that you’d convince yourself that you’d been in the wrong to feel creeped out by her. I always used to think I might have been jealous. I mean, I’m not a lot to look at, I know, and she was absolutely gorgeous. It quite shocked me, when I remembered what the poor girl who’d given birth to her looked like. She’d got her dying wish - that mysterious Mr Riddle must have been one hell of a looker. I used to wonder who he was quite a lot. I thought maybe he must have been an actor, because Mary looked like a film star, with her lovely alabaster skin, and her delicate bone structure, and her glossy, jet black hair. Effie thought he must have been a dancer, because Mary was so elegant that she never seemed to walk anywhere, she glided instead. Martha thought he must have been one of the dons at Oxford or Cambridge, because Mary was just so clever - she taught herself to read when she was still in nappies, you know. Mrs Dolan thought he must have been a gentleman, because Mary had these lovely manners which she definitely hadn’t learned from us.  

She never got any real interest though. Even with her good looks and her brains. People would ask to meet her at first, when they came to Wool’s looking to adopt. They were all impressed - well, you would be, I suppose, to see a five-year-old reading Dickens like it was the most natural thing in the world. They used to gush about how polite and refined she was - she’d put on this posh accent, you see, even though I knew she sounded like a fishwife when she was arguing with the other kids, and say ‘oh, please, sir’ and ‘why, thank you, ma’am’. 

They all liked her. At first.  

But then they’d move on, to Susan or Billy or Betty or Donald or Ann. Plain, stout children with common voices and common minds. They’d never say why, but I knew. It was because strange things seemed to happen around Mary. I used to think, and I know it sounds silly, but I did, I used to think that the air obeyed her. She seemed to be able to call down things from high shelves into her hands, or break tea cups without touching them, or mend them without glueing them, or make it stop raining when she wanted to go outside, or make your cheek sting as though she had slapped you hard round the face for trying to tell her off, even though she was on the other side of the desk from you and she hadn’t moved. 

By the end of 1932, just before she turned six, I was afraid she could control people’s thoughts. 

I know, I know. It sounds like I’ve lost my marbles. 

But I saw her. I saw her, with my own eyes, on Boxing Day, when she cornered Terry in the playroom while he was looking at the tin soldier he had been given for Christmas from the ‘collection for the unfortunate’ they held at St-Basil’s-in-the-Marshes. She held out her hand for the toy and said in that soft, quiet voice she had, ‘I think you’ll find that’s mine, Terry’, and he opened his mouth to resist but then his face just went blank and he placed the soldier in her hand. And Effie bustled over to chastise her - ‘Mary Riddle, I saw you do that!’ - but Mary simply looked at her, with her eyes narrowed, and said ‘I don’t think you did, miss’, and Effie just stood there, her expression suddenly vacant. 

I was on rounds that night, and I found the soldier under the settee in the matron’s parlour. Its chest had been broken open and its empty metal innards were glistening in the lamplight.

then you should watch this space!

[braveclementine]

Chapter 12

Warnings: violence, intentions of rape

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 because Ginny hit me in the face with a pillow, screaming Merry Christmas. I rolled over, falling onto the floor because I'd forgotten that I was sleeping on a cot.

I groaned, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. "Why'd you wake me up?" I complained.

"Because it's Christmas and we have presents!" Ginny said enthusiastically. I quickly got up off the floor, hoping my fall hadn't damaged the baby inside of me. My baby girl.

I could imagine her too. Black hair, alabaster skin, red lips. Something like Snow White really. I just didn't have a name for her yet. However, naming my child Snow White wasn't particularly appealing.

I grabbed a present from the end of my bed. Muggles left their gifts under Christmas trees. Wizards left them at the foot of the bed. Somehow, the Muggle way seemed to be more romantic.

Mrs. Weasley's present was the one that I had grabbed which contained a Weasley sweater and hot fudge cakes. Dessert wasn't necessarily good for the baby but since I'd been putting off dessert for way to long, I felt that this was an okay break.

The twins had sent me supplies from their shop and Fred had included his yearly charm. This one was a crown. I stared at it for a long time before adding it to my bracelet. Perhaps he had just seen my artwork. . . but surely not? This had to be a coincidence, but why was he giving me a crown?

Hermione had sent me books on mythical creatures. Ginny had given me a magical art set that I was going to start using very soon. I hadn't even known there were magical art sets.

Harry had gotten me chocolate, my favorite flavor from Honeydukes. Ron hadn't gotten me anything and I was glad because I hadn't given him anything and would probably have felt guilty if he had.

Dad had given me four books. It seemed to be something of a tradition to do this: A Game of Thrones, The Notebook, Into the Wild, and Realms of Tolkien: Images of Middle-Earth.

I was quite excited for Realms of Tolkien because it was the newest book in the Lord of the Rings series which happened to be one of my favorite series. Of course, it wouldn't actually have anything to do with the characters, but despite that, it was still part of one of my favorite fictional worlds.

Hagrid had sent another statuette, this one was an Acromantula. It wasn't my favorite statuette that he'd given me, but I knew why large, giant, man-eating spiders were on his mind. Aragog was sick, he was going to die. I couldn't wait for him to die either. I hoped all of his children burned in hell. But I wasn't going to tell Hagrid that.

I set the other three books aside and then got dressed and went downstairs where, to our surprise, Tonks had joined us. Well! I certainly hadn't foreseen this.

"Tonks!" I exclaimed, giving her a hug. I noticed that it was just her, Ginny, Fleur, Bill, and I in the kitchen. "I didn't think you were going to come!"

Tonks gave me a small smile. "It's only today. I thought that I should spend Christmas with you guys."

I gave her a huge smile, an encouraging one. Of course, once I traipsed to the living room, I was immediately confused. What had caused Tonks to change her mind? Tonks was supposed to have been part of Christmas lunch conversation. About her patronus changing and her clumsy nature.

I had the living room to myself and I spread all my drawings out on the floor, seeing if there was some sort of connection. I wasn't sure why I was so obsessed with these drawings. Perhaps it was because I loved reading and I wanted to know for certain that this was a real place or not.

I ended up drawing more than observing, adding more details to the already perfected scenes. A shadow here. Another paper bird in doll town. A bee flying above the ocean of honey.

"Those are really good." A voice said, shaking me out of my revere and scaring the crap out of me.

"Oh!" I gasped as the ink that I had next to me spilled over onto one of the drawings.

"Scourgify." The voice said and Tonks sat down next to me. "Sorry about that."

"My fault." I said, my heart still beating and I looked over at her. She was so different with her brown hair. "I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings."

Trang picked up the drawing of the room with the chandeliers. "This is very unusual, but very detailed. I didn't realize you were an artist?"

"It's a hobby." I said, turning my attention back to the drawings. I wasn't really sure what I was looking for. "I don't really know where these drawings came from. I can only draw them if I'm not paying attention. They're from somewhere in my subconscious. If that makes sense."

"So these places might exist." Tonks said, looking at the underground library with a glass ceiling revealing another library above it.

"I don't know." I said honestly. "It has to do with these symbols though." I handed her a blank sheet with six images on it: bee, key, sword, crown, feather, heart.

"These are unusual." Tonks said, frowning. "I wonder what they mean."

I shook my head. "Don't know."

Tonks observed the drawings and then asked, "Do you sell?"

"No, I give them as gifts." I said quickly. "Though I'm going to admit that until I figure out this mystery, I'm not giving these drawings yet."

"You should sell." Tonks said firmly. "You can definitely sell these when you're ready to part with them."

I chuckled uncomfortably. "I don't know. . . I'm not that good-"

Tonks scoffed. "This looks like a photograph Elizabeth, just with sharper details and not in color. Forget selling, if these were on a larger scale, they'd be in a museum."

I shifted where I was sitting. "Maybe. . ."

"No seriously." Tonks said, grinning, "I mean, look at these. You'd have a whole art exhibit to yourself for these drawings!"

I laughed, grateful for her words. While I wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was joking, the words lightened my heart all the same.

Tonks clapped me on the shoulder. "You don't paint your drawings?"

"Rarely." I said. "I feel that color takes away from the original drawing. But sometimes I color, it just depends."

"Tonks!" Another voice exclaimed in surprise. I looked up and saw Dad standing there with Mr. Weasley.

"Remus." Tonks said, perhaps forgetting that her and dad were having an awkward moment, in her excitement to show off my drawings like a proud mother or sister. It was a bit disconcerting. "Have you seen these drawings?"

"Oh!" I said unhappily as Tonks grabbed a couple and showed my dad my drawings. My cheeks reddened and I quickly threw the others together, putting the one that the ink had splattered on, on top so it could dry.

"Elizabeth's quite talented." Dad said, a note of pride in his voice. "Though I think these are the best drawings I've ever seen her do."

I blushed redder. "I'm going to go put these in my room." I muttered. Tonks handed me the other drawings and I hurried up the stairs. I put the drawings in a box and locked it. I felt strangely protective of these drawings. I hoped I figured out the secret fast.

At Christmas dinner, I noticed that everyone except myself, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, and Fleur were wearing their Weasley sweaters, including Dad.

Mrs. Weasley was wearing a midnight blue hat which was glittering with stars made of either diamonds or silicon. She was also wearing a lovely golden necklace that I'd never seen her wear.

"Fred and George gave them to me!" Mrs. Weasley said to Harry, showing off the necklace. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks." George said, waving his hand in the air and then picked up the bowl of Parsnips. I giggled. "Parsnips, Remus?"

"Harry, you've got a maggot in your hair." Ginny said in a cheerful voice, leaning across the table to pick the bug out of his hair. I snorted and then buried my face into my book, losing all track of time until Mrs. Weasley said, "Arthur- it's Percy!"

I looked up, and then back down, but kept track of the conversation this time.

"What?"

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had risen from their seats.

"Arthur, he's- he's with the Minister!"

My stomach turned.

There was a moment of silence.

The back door opened.

More painful silence.

"Merry Christmas, Mother."

I hadn't heard Percy's voice in a long time. I'd forgotten how pompous he sounded.

"Oh, Percy!" Mrs. Weasley said.

I determinedly didn't look up from my book. Hobbits were so interesting.

"You must forgive this intrusion," a different voice said and though I'd never heard it before, I knew it was the Minister's voice. "Percy and I were in the vicinity- working, you know- and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."

I snorted delicately and then bit my tongue painfully.

"Please, come in, sit down, Minister! Have a little Purkey, or some tooding. . . I mean-" Mrs. Weasley said, obviously flustered.

"No, no, my dear Molly. I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly. . ." The Minister said.

I resisted snorting and decided to roll my eyes instead.

"Oh, Perce!" Mrs. Weasley said tearfully.

Tonks was quite tense on my right. Dad seemed just as uncomfortable on my left.

"We've only looked in for five minutes, so I'll have a stroll around the yard while you catch up with Percy. No, no, I assure you I don't want to butt in! Well, if anybody cared to show me your charming garden. . . Ah, that young girl is finished, why doesn't she take a stroll with me?"

Well, that wasn't expected. I didn't even look up as I answered, "Not interested in the proposal."

"So you do see the future?" The Minister asked. Dad had grown still as a rock at my side.

"Of course I do." I said, finally looking up at Scrimgeour. "Though originally, you were going to ask Harry to walk with you. But if you would like to know, he's not interested either."

Harry looked between me and Scrimgeour.

I looked back down at my book. "But he has a right to tell you himself so if he wants to go on a walk with you, that's up to him, not me."

"So your visions are subjective?" Scrimgeour asked. It was as though nobody else was here.

I looked up again. "Not at. . . all." My face lit up into a smile and I jumped up from the table, "Sorry, excuse me." I hurried past the minister and ran down the back lawn.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaimed, stopping in front of Severus.

"I thought you'd like to see me." Severus said, not smiling. I think he was keeping up pretense for the observer's in the house.

"The Minister is in the house." I said, pointing back at the house with my thumb.

"And you ran out here like that?" Severus asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yes." I said with a smile that no one but he could see. His lips twitched. "Want to go on a walk?"

"Is that okay?" Severus asked, looking up at the Burrow.

"Sure." I said and turned and started away from the Burrow's windows and farther out of the garden.

Severus quickly caught up and then kept pace with me. We found a private clump of rosebushes that I had discovered from exploring the garden. It was quite secretive and I figured Mrs. Weasley had thought it quite romantic when it was grown.

The minute that we stepped inside, the rose bushes curling tightly across the entrance, Severus took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine fiercely.

"Mm." I gasped, pushing back with as much force as possible. I'd missed him greatly. Our lips parted, our tongues intersecting. We were more tangled together than we had been all year. I think distance does that to couples.

Perhaps an hour later, our clothes in a heap by the wall, we finally sat up, still kissing and then put our foreheads together.

"I've missed you." Severus said. "A lot. Not just for the sex either." He ran his lips down my throat hungrily. "I've missed everything." His arms wrapped around my body, pulling me tighter to his.

It was cold out, but neither of us could feel it inside of here. I was quite warm, as a matter of fact.

"I've missed you too." I whispered, pressing my lips to his forehead, placing my cheek on his hair. It was silky and soft. He smelled pleasant and strange at the same time, a combination of lemon, cinnamon, salt, and caramel.

I could hear someone calling my name, though their voice sounded far away. "Oh, we have been here for a long time, haven't we."

Severus pressed his lips to mine again and then again. "I'll see you at school I suppose?"

"I can't wait." I said, kissing his neck and then stood up, finding my clothes and put them on again. I brushed off a little dirt and then straightened my hair, letting the loose strands fall into place so that I looked much the way that I had when I'd left the Burrow. "Bye."

"Love you." Severus said, kissing my cheek.

"Love you too." I said and I exited the secret hideout, heading back up the lawn. Dad was standing out there in his brown suit, his back to me.

"Hey! Dad!" I called, jogging up a little so that I was closer. Dad turned, looking relieved.

"Where were you?" He asked in concern, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Sev and I took a walk. I mean. . . it's our anniversary, you know?" My cheeks were bright red. I knew that our 'marriage' was harder on dad than he made it look. "Well last night, really, but... you know."

"Right." Dad said, closing his eyes. "Right, sorry, I. . .  yeah."

I put a hand on his arm and smiled. "Come on. Is the Minister gone yet?"

"Yeah." Dad said with a grimace. "Let's just say Molly's going to be upset for quite some time."

"Fred, George, and Ginny?" I guessed.

"Parsnips." Dad confirmed, smiling down at me. He put an arm around my shoulder, hugging me to his side and kissed the top of my head. "Merry Christmas sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas dad." I said, hugging him back and we headed up to the Burrow.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

𝕬𝖘 𝕮𝖍𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖘 𝖉𝖆𝖞 turned into Christmas night, Tonks, Dad, and I got ready to go. I had all my things packed, already sent back home. There was a full moon tomorrow night so dad wanted to get the two of us home. Tonks wanted to get back to her family.

Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley saw the three of us out. The only thing I had was my wand in my pocket. I felt quite content, dinner had been nice.

"Dinner was wonderful, Molly." Tonks was saying, the five of us standing out on the porch. Dad was looking out at the long wheat field that stood in front of the house. It was new to the house, perhaps two years grown. It was taller than us, it was supposed to be a sort of defense to lose ourselves in.

"Thank you Tonks, dear." Molly said and the two women hugged. Mr. Weasley was watching dad, who was staring intently at the tall stalks.

"Remus?" Mr. Weasley asked. "Everything all right?"

Dad did not answer. I looked out too, starting to feel paranoid. But I would have seen if something bad was going to happen tonight and nothing was. I wouldn't have missed something so important if something bad was going to happen tonight.

Then, a fireball seemed to come out of the sky, hitting the dry grass. The five of us watched and I drew back a little, wondering if the house would be safe. What if the Weasleys lost their home? The fire started to spread like a ring of fire around the house. No way out, no way in. But there was a gap between the fire, leading into the wheat field.

Then, there was a black trail that looked like a black fireball. It landed near the entrance- or exit depending on how you looked at it- of the fire ring.

What about the security? I asked numbly inside my head as the figure became a Bellatrix Lestrange. Tonks and Dad drew their weapons and Bellatrix dashed off through the ring. Suddenly, Harry was pushing through our ring, running after her.

"Harry, no!" Mr. Weasley yelled and suddenly, as though on instinct, I was running after him.

"Elizabeth, no!" Dad shouted angrily after me. I was hot on Harry's heels, though as he passed through the fire, the flames shot up and I was nearly burned.

I didn't falter, I continued after Harry, my wand drawn. But the grass was high and we started to get separated. I ran in the general direction that we'd been going.

I could hear a voice, Bellatrix's voice shouting in a singing way, "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK! I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK!"

I gritted my teeth, anger filling my veins. A voice in the back of my head tried to argue against this. That I had a child to protect. I should turn around. I should go back to dad. But Harry... Harry was still out here and no one else was getting past the barrier. Besides, it was only Bellatrix. Harry and I could duel her together. But first, I had to regroup with Harry.

I cut across the tall grass, trying to find Harry's path and I suddenly came to a small clearing. I stopped. Well, Harry wasn't here. I looked around.

It was oval shaped, dirt and grass. There was a lone tree with no leaves, probably dead standing at the far end of the clearing. It was dark, and though there was no light, I could just make out the wheat swaying in the breeze.

Bellatrix was laughing like a maniac, her laugh echoing across the plain. I turned to leave and then was thrown to the ground by a Death Eater, once again- not expected.

"Greyback!" I gasped, struggling against his hold. His fingernails were sharp, digging into my arms. His knees were locked on either side of my legs and for the first time, real fear shot through my veins.

"I bet your father's talked all about me." Greyback said, smiling to reveal pointed teeth.

"Ugh." I made a noise while struggling against him, trying to free myself. Something was trickling down my arm, either blood, water, or sweat, I wasn't sure which.

He chuckled. "The Dark Lord's going to be pleased when I bring you in. Perhaps he'll let me have a taste of you as a reward."

I could only imagine how dad would react if I was turned into a werewolf. My grip tightened on my wand and I cried, "Releshio."

Greyback ducked at the last moment, grabbing my wand and tossing it a few feet away. I expected him to be angry, but he was still smiling. "Feisty one, aren't ya?" He raised a hand, showing me his sharpened fingernails, placing his pointer finger on my cheek. They trailed down my cheek, cutting it open just a little bit with his nail.

I clenched my teeth together so as not to give him what he wanted: sounds of pain.

But he was not deterred, he was smiling bigger, showing all of his teeth which was scarier than ever.

I swung my fist- he had let go of my arm- connecting with his head. His head snapped backwards, I think more in surprise than pain. I wrenched myself free, throwing myself towards my wand. He jumped on my back, flipping me over, knocking the breath out of me.

In one, quick, slashing motion, my shirt fell open, having been cut down the middle. But the cut was deeper than just my shirt. A red line from my shoulder blades to my pants appeared, blood swelling and then leaking over the sides. It had gone perfectly down the middle. The only part was my bra, still intact, though the connector was frayed.

He leered at me, "Full moon's tomorrow, didn't you know?" He asked. I gasped in pain, just a little gasp as his finger nail made short, concise movements where my ribs were. They were shallow, he wasn't going to kill me- I was needed by Voldemort and for once, I was glad about that.

I shivered involuntarily as he lowered his mouth to my neck, his teeth against my skin. I could feel the points and I wondered how he got them all to be so pointed. Did he sand them with sandpaper? Carve them? File them? Perhaps he had dentures made completely out of canine teeth.

"How about I bite?" Greyback whispered in my ear, his fingernail, slicing down my leg and I let out a scream of pain, because these cuts were much, much deeper. I wouldn't have been surprised if they cut to the bone.

No one, I thought randomly, should have such sharp fingernails. What a safety hazard. I started to laugh hysterically, delirious with pain.

The pain was blinding, I tried to get air in my lungs, starting to hyperventilate. Or maybe I was screaming. I tried to recover my breathing. My leg was on fire. I could smell the stench of blood, feel Greyback's tongue on my stomach.

He pulled himself upright, showing his teeth which were now covered in blood- my blood. He leaned forward, his teeth grazing my ear as he whispered again, "Should I bite?"

I was starting to feel hazy. Blood loss, I thought randomly. I watched through blurry eyes as he threw his head up dramatically to come down and bite me before he was gone, thrown off of me, somewhere behind me. I heard a thunk. Perhaps he had hit the tree. There was a whooshing noise.

"Elizabeth?" the voice was very far away, but familiar. Kind. "Elizabeth, can you hear me?"

Yes. Yes, I could, but my lips wouldn't say so. My brain seemed to have reached some sort of block. Words didn't seem to be able to come through my mouth. My eyes didn't seem to want to move. A hand felt along my neck, checking for a pulse. Was my heart beating? Was this dying? Who was I hurting right now?

The moon was bright, almost a full moon. Dad should be gone by now, right? Dad was here, wasn't he? Who else would be leaning over my body, holding my face in their hands? Severus, of course. Perhaps Fred. Cedric. . . perhaps I was dead, Cedric was trying to pull my up, join the land of the dead.

Shouldn't I have gone back as a ghost? I mean, Dad would miss me, wouldn't he? But if I was a ghost, I wouldn't see James or Mum or Sirius or Cedric and since Cedric was the one pulling me up, then I must be dead and not a ghost. Oh poor Dad. Poor Lupin.

And my child. Severus and mine- our child. I wanted to sit up in a panic, I wanted to move and see if my child was alright. My eyelids seemed heavy, the sky was swimming, turning orange. A honey ocean. And I blacked out.

🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

". . .𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖏𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘?" A cold voice asked, something was being dabbed along the cuts on my stomach.

"Greyback dug his claws in her." an anxious voice replied.

There was gritting of teeth. I murmured something incoherently.

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth can you hear me?" The same anxious voice asked.

But I was gone, fading back into the black again. There were oceans of honey and I walked down a dollstreet. But it wasn't really a dollhouse or a doll neighborhood because I fit the size of it all. I could walk inside any of the dollhouses and throw a piece of paper into the thimble trashcan. The paper birds floated above me.

I blinked my eyes open. Some time had passed obviously. It was sunset now, judging by the sky out the window of my bedroom.

I tried to sit up and gasped in pain. Someone gave a start near me and I turned to see Severus, sitting up, his wand raised. He threw it on the desk. "You're awake."

"Yeah." I muttered, "I-"

I didn't get another word out. Severus pressed his lips to mine.

"Do you know how worried I was?" He asked after he pulled apart and I gasped for air. He ran a hand back, moving his hair out of his face. "I found out from the Dark Lord that you had been hurt. He knows you're pregnant!"

"H-?" I started but Severus seemed to have anticipated my questions.

"Because you had a run in with Greyback!" Severus said angrily. "He's part wolf, more werewolf than human. He has instincts Elizabeth! He gauged your reactions! He felt the second heart beat! He could smell the child!"

I started to hyperventilate again and Severus quickly changed his tune, holding my face in his, "It's alright, just calm down."

Was he talking to me or himself?

I took in deep breaths, holding one of Severus' hands to my face with my own. When my breathing finally settled down, he asked as calmly as possible, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Harry went after Bellatrix." I whispered. "I hadn't foreseen any of it, like it wasn't supposed to happen in the first place. I thought it was just Bellatrix. I didn't think anyone except Harry and I could get through the fire ring. I thought Bellatrix was trying to lure Harry. I thought the two of us could take her down together."

"Until you got separated?" Severus asked, still calmly.

"Yes." I said reluctantly. "I didn't know there would be two. I. . . what happened? Do you know?"

"Your father found you. He and Tonks had caught up to Harry and Ginny. He realized immediately that you weren't with them. He went off on his own to find you, leaving the others with Tonks and eventually Arthur Weasley. He heard you. . . he heard you scream. He found you, threw Greyback off of you. Both Bellatrix and Greyback disapparated. He rushed you home, owled me, but by that time, I was already on my way to the Burrow on instructions from the Dark Lord to heal you."

"Where's dad?" I asked quickly.

"Full moon passed, he'll be home soon." Severus said, smoothing my hair back.

"How. . . how bad are the cuts on my stomach?" I asked, "I mean, I know the ones on my leg are going to be bad, I'll be surprised if I'm not disabled again, but I really only want to know if the baby is okay."

"The baby is fine." Severus said in a soothing voice. "Perfectly healthy. Greyback didn't want to kill you, your blood isn't worth his life if the Dark Lord found out that he had killed you."

"Good to know." I said, taking in a deep breath. "The baby's fine?"

"The baby's fine." Severus confirmed.

"Good." I said.

"What baby?" Another voice said behind us and I looked up and saw that dad was standing in the doorway. He'd obviously just come home, he still smelled like the running wind.

"Ah. . ." I said weakly as Severus looked between dad and I.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "You didn't tell him?"

I flushed, angry at him for not being more tactful. "I was going to! But I didn't want the Weasleys to overhear!"

"You could have told me before we left for the Burrow." Dad said, looking furiously at Severus.

"I wanted to wait until I was sure I wouldn't miscarry." I sighed. "That was the real reason. I didn't tell anyone."

But Dad wasn't listening. He strode across the room, grabbing the front of Severus robes, and yanked him out of his chair, slamming him against the wall. "YOU GOT MY DAUGHTER PREGANT! SHE'S NOT EVEN OF AGE YET!"

"Dad!" I exclaimed, trying to get out of bed. My leg seemed to be stuck to something, not wanting to move.

"YOU BASTARD!" Dad shouted, slamming him against the wall again. Severus did nothing to try and defend himself against dad's anger. His head smacked against the wall.

I finally swung my legs over the bed and got to my feet, immediately collapsing in a state of shock and pain. Severus fell to the ground too, dad having released him immediately, to help me into bed.

"God Elizabeth, you can't just get out of bed like that." Dad said furiously, smoothing the blankets back over me.

"Remus-" Severus started and dad immediately rounded on him, a maniac glint in his eyes.

"You got my daughter pregnant!" Dad shouted.

"Remus!" Severus said, not sounding anger or defiant, but rather desperate and pleading.

"You've been. . . you've been sleeping together!" Dad's eyes were nearly bulging out of his head. You should've told him, a voice in the back of my head said dully.

"I love her Remus!" Severus shouted over him. "I know, you still have issues with that, and I get it. But I love her, I love our baby, and I'm never, ever going to leave her. I'm going to protect her, Remus!"

Dad was breathing heavily, glaring from me to Severus. "You should have told me immediately, Elizabeth." Dad said angrily.

"I'm sorry." I whispered through numb lips, trying to keep from crying. I hated disappointing dad. I hated when he got angry at me. I hated it.

Dad sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. A tear fell down my face and I quickly turned my head away, lifting a hand to wipe it away and hissed in pain. I had forgotten that much face had been cut too.

"Are you alright?" Dad and Severus asked at the same time.

"Fine." I muttered. "I just forgot about the cuts on my face."

Dad sank into a chair by my bed, though not the same one that Severus had been occupying moments ago. He had his face in his hands and I couldn't see any emotions on his face. Severus was still standing up and he picked up his wand. I supposed he was going to leave.

"Wait." Dad said as Severus headed towards the doorway. Severus paused, turning to look back at Dad.

Dad looked up at him, and I still couldn't see his face. His back was now to me.

"You swear your going to take care of her. Forever." Dad said in a cold, hard voice.

"If I wasn't already in an Unbreakable vow, I'd make one with you right now, swearing that I will." Severus said in an even voice.

Dad nodded and Severus headed to the doorway. As he started to exit dad said, "If Draco Malfoy were to harm Elizabeth?"

"Then I suppose, I would die, wouldn't I?" Severus said, without looking back, and he walked down the stairs. I never heard the front door click.

Dad turned back to me. "You-"

"Are in big trouble?" I finished for him.

Dad sighed. "I really, really wished you'd waited until you'd been properly married and were of age, but I'm not mad at you."

I sighed but said nothing. Anything that I said would just alert dad to how long Severus and I really had been having sex and that would not be good.

After a long moment of silence dad asked, "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know." I said cautiously. "Professor Trelawney said it's a boy so I'm pretty sure it's a girl."

Dad chuckled half-heartedly, still looking extremely stressed. "When did you find out?"

I hesitated and then said, "A few weeks when school started."

Dad closed his eyes, clenching his hands together and then rubbing his temple. "And why didn't you tell me again?"

I lowered my eyes to the purple blanket. "I. . . I want this child, you know? Severus and I are kind've married and I was okay with having a family. But I also know the dangers of magic school." I laughed a little, close to crying, "I didn't want to tell you or anyone until I knew that I was past the second trimester, you know? I was going to tell you, I just wanted her-or him- to be a certain thing."

Dad got up from his chair, coming to sit on the bed and hold my hand. "I'm still really angry with Severus."

"I know, I'm sorry." I said. "I would've preferred waiting until I was of age and also officially married and out of school, of course, but I already love the baby dad."

Dad sighed. "I know, I-"

"You're my dad." I said, giving him a gentle smile, looking at the situation from his point of view. "I know this isn't what you wanted. I know you wanted me to marry someone my age and if I did go older, you would not have chosen Sev. I know you would've preferred for us to have waited until I was out of school before we had a child. I know. You're my dad. Your supposed to protect me. But I'm okay dad, this is okay."

"I still don't think you should have made me a grandfather this young." Dad said, sounding slightly disgruntled.

I laughed lightly but that hurt my chest so I stopped quickly.

"How are the wounds?" Dad asked, pulling back the sheet to reveal the bandages. He winced. "I should've gotten there sooner."

"My fault." I said. "I shouldn't have followed Harry."

There was a paused and then dad gave me a curious look and asked, "And you really didn't see any of this?"

I nodded. "It was like, while I was there, like it wasn't. . . wasn't supposed to happen, you know?"

"Impulsive decision?" Dad asked.

"I don't know." I whispered. "Even now that it happened, it still doesn't feel real, like it never happened. I might've thought it a dream if this hadn't happened." I gestured to my stomach and face. "How's my leg?"

"Bad." Dad said bluntly. "Cut down to the bone. Madam Pomfrey was here too. She wanted to transport you back to Hogwarts but Dumbledore said no."

"Dumbledore was here?" I asked in surprise.

Dad hesitated. "Does he know. . .?"

"Oh, yes." I said, blushing. "He did a spell on me a month or so ago when I started er- showing. It's so the other students and teachers don't know I'm pregnant. Madam Pomfrey knows too, she's going to deliver our child." I was whispering now, trying to make things easier on dad, "Sev suspects Professor McGonagall might know because Dumbledore rarely keeps anything from her. Trang knows too and that's it."

"And Trelawney?" Dad asked.

I hesitated, "I don't know. I didn't tell her. I was at Slughorn's Christmas party the day before break. She was ranting about Firenze and I got defensive. She kind've just looked at me and said 'it'll be a boy of course' and then went back to talking to Luna."

"Perhaps it will be a boy then." Dad said, sounding distracted.

"It's a girl." I said firmly. "I can feel it."

"Do you have a name?"

For someone who had been so angry about this outcome, he sure was curious.

"No. I had boy names, funnily enough. But I don't really have any girl names. Trang's suggested Lily, of course, but I've never really liked the idea of naming babies after dead people. It's seem sadder than it should be, I think. Though that's a hypocritical view because I was thinking of Cedric as a boy name." I sighed. "But I feel almost as though it would be wrong to name my girl Lily, like the names taken."

"Maybe someone you know will name their daughter Lily too." Dad said and then after a moment of silence he added, "Probably Harry."

I nodded. "Probably Harry."

And then we sat there for a long time, holding hands, until I drifted off to sleep.

⬅️➡️

[bhaalbabebardlock]

~Sanguine Moon~

~Part of the Tandem Series~

~Lili~

Summary: Lili & Astarion find last light inn in the shadowlands.

“I just don't know how to do any of this. You keep saying all these nice things and I know you don't mean them. You say I matter to you but I don't know what that means and I don't know what it means that sometimes when I think about your heart stopping I get… I get sad. I get sad when I think about you not being with me and I… what does that mean?”

Important Tags: graphic depictions of violence, vaginal penetration/fingering, oral sex, M/F, slight body horror, alcohol and brief vomit mention, fluff, porn with feelings

Link to work on AO3

All Works | Tandem Masterpost

Spoiler below the cut;

the rest can be found on AO3!

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

Ash and dust and death and decay and the burning white hot magic of a thunderstorm sparking between her palms. Between the two of them, their daggers, and the chaos of her wild magic- there was not a soul left breathing save for them.

She moaned into his mouth as Astarion pushed her back against the wall, his hands gripping her thighs and hitching her legs around his waist. She gasped for air when he pulled away, running kisses down the column of her throat, over her collarbone, his fingers creeping under the edge of her shirt.

He smelled like iron, like sanguine sweetness. There had been perfect harmony between the two of them, as they spun around each other, their steel singing in tandem, littering the ground with corpses around their feet. His white halo of curls drenched in blood, his scarlet eyes flashing with hunger as he pressed against her, the smear of crimson covering his alabaster skin. The contrast was mesmerizing. He had almost never been more beautiful, she thought. His fury was as sharpened as her own. Wrathful and lethal, an angel of vengeance. Which he deserved.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!

“Let me go,” she said softly, “You're always making me feel good. Let me make you feel good.” He froze against her, his fingers tightening on her hips.

“You don't have to do that, you sweet thing.”

“But I want to.” He loosened his grip on her and she slid off his lap onto the floor turning and reaching her hands up to his waistband with a coy smile on her face. He lifted his hips as she pulled the pants down his legs, licking her lips when his semi hard cock came into view. It was already leaking, a small bead of precum glistening on the tip making her stomach flutter as she licked her palm, wrapping her fingers around his length and slowly pumping her fist up and down. Opening everything to him was second nature and she didn't even think about it when she felt the nudge against her skull, his thoughts and feelings and warmth wrapping around her mind.

She leaned forwards, taking him into her mouth and moaning around the salty sweet taste, the coolness of his skin, the thrum of him against her tongue. She pressed her hands against his thighs to keep him still, taking him deeper into her mouth as she gagged around him, her toes curling as his moans of pleasure rolled through her.

He was divine. Holy. An altar that she wanted to lay herself down in front of and devote herself to. If she held claim to any gods, they did not matter anymore. There was only the ethereal, vengeful, mesmerizing god that she was on her knees for, that she would fall onto her knees for any time he asked her to even though she would probably never say that to him out loud. It felt deliciously, painfully sinful as she feverishly ran her tongue over the rigidness, tears pricking the corner of her eyes as his now fully erect cock hit the back of her throat. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, awash with how his face was an open canvas of want, of need, of desire and adoration as his hands clenched the sheets.

He was beautiful. He was everything. He had done so much for her already and given her so much and even though it made the headache behind her eyes ache, she wanted nothing more than to return the favor as many times she could, hold him close to her and never let him go. Every throb against her lips, every sound he made spilling through her mind and being returned as she moaned around his cock, all of it was the most blissful thing she'd ever experienced. Her own pleasure hardly mattered, nothing mattered but him and the way he was looking at her as she swallowed him while he desperately tried to roll his hips against her mouth.

The first snip above the cut is from chapter 1 and this portion is from chapter 2. The entire thing is on AO3!

[takaraphoenix]

Alabaster Torrington for the character ask post?

MY BOY. Oooh, I've been having a severe case of Missing Alabaster Torrington for like the past two weeks, how did you mindread that?

Thanks for playing and asking about him!

Favorite romantic ship(s): PERCY!!!, Ethan, Nico, preferably I'll take them in an OT4 too :D

Favorite platonic dynamic(s): also Ethan, but I actually made up this whole alt-reality dynamic for him and Bianca, I love the idea of those two becoming really good friends, plus also the obvious of Lou Ellen because I love her and I have that brother-sister dynamic made up in my head too and it means A Lot to me

LGBT+ headcanon(s): gay, so gay, definitely 100% gay. I see him as the "I do not understand heterosexuals they bewilder me" kind of gay

Job headcanon (in an AU/or future): Mh. Trying to remember if I ever had him have a job in a mortal AU beyond a "necessary cast" (like a fire fighter AU where they're, duh, fire fighters, or a mob boss AU where he's, duh, a member of the di Angelo Family). Generally, I like to lean into his magic nature and I'd love to see him actually have like a... magic shop? Selling crystals and giving tarot card readings and such

Animal shifter headcanon: Long-haired, dark-brown haired cat, potentially a Norwegian because these are my favorite kitties

Favorite canon thing about them: ...that he lived? I'm sorry that sounds lame, but also Riordan Senior famously killed off literally every single "traitor" or "bad guy" demigod who was a named character with story - Luke, Ethan, Silena, Octavian (Chris lived but I'm not entirely counting him since he 1. deserted early, 2. spent like months severely mentally fucked up which felt like "penance" or "punishment" for his choices on a meta level, like, he avoided actual social or even juridical consequences because "hasn't he suffered enough?" coupled with "dating a main character from the good side" which is generally seen as a 'gets out of jail free' card) - to avoid having consequences happen, so I'm deeply in love with the fact that Alabaster was on the rebel side but lived and we got to see what the consequences for the demigods who chose to rebel actually are in the now-time. I love this story. I think Haley Riordan should actually write more about Alabaster, first and foremost, but also generally in the Riordanverse? Like, I would love him to write about the Titan War but from the rebel side, even if it's just one standalone book. I would devour that

Least favorite canon thing about them: That he hasn't returned to me yet ;-; I am REALLY hoping the PJO tv show will feature him, because... obviously wasn't he in the PJO book series since he was created after the fact and not by Riordan Senior, but since he exists now, and since Riordan is involved in the show, I really hope that Alabaster will be featured among the rebels in the tv show. Since they definitely will need more than three and a half rebels? Literally just for visual reasons and if you cast em, give em names (so I am generally hoping for the creation of more rebel demigods due to the tv show but it'd be a real missed opportunity to not feature Alabaster in it)

Character Ask Game

[bvckbiter]

ALABASTER INITIATION VIA KIDNAPPING? PLS SPILL

One of the biggest plotholes of the series that has bothered me ever since is that, if Kronos figured that the Fleece was going to bring back Thalia (which he was implied to, since Chiron says his plan had worked too well), you’d think he’d be a little more proactive in obtaining the prophecy hero, no? I mean, Thalia woke up right in CHB’s clutches and we all know what happened next.

So yeah that’s where this idea came from basically hehe. To join the TA, Alabaster has to prove his worth by spiriting Thalia away once she’s resurrected. Remember, at this point, she’s just been de-treed, and her last memory is of her making a sacrifice to save Luke and Annabeth. Alabaster is a crazy teen boy with magic powers and burning passion for the cause, and Thalia is weak and disoriented.

He’d totally succeed, and thats not even to start with how he gets her to believe the whole “we have to take down Olympus” bit; she’s just been hunted by Hades and his hounds, and her best friend is waiting for her at California! Naturally, Al emits the part where Luke had poisoned her tree.

Now as for who becomes Kronos’ vessel in this AU… 🤭🤭🤭 I will keep my peace

[phoenix--flying]

ahhhhh hi :) i was bored an wrote out 3 stories/oneshots for this au, it mainly follows the Greek side of things buut hopefully that changed eventually but i'm invested in the pjo series from this au, or should i call it ato since its alabaster(naturally) and not percy

[mollymattison629]

What Would Happen if We Lost the Moon?

The Fifth Season

11/30/2018

In The Broken Earth Series there is no moon, and because of that the Earth is altered. As I’ve read this series, I’ve wondered what actually would happen if the Moon were to cease to exist.

The first time I noticed that the moon didn’t exist in the Stillness was in a certain interlude in The Fifth Season. Toward the end if the interlude, what we now know is Hoa says, “Likewise, no one speaks of celestial objects, though the skies are as crowded and busy as anywhere else in the universe. This is largely because so much of the people’s attention is directed toward the ground, not the sky. They notice what’s there: stars and the sun and the occasional comet or falling star. They do not notice what’s missing” (The Fifth Season,  151). This is later proved when Alabaster asks the cryptic question, “‘Tell me, […] have you ever heard of something called a moon?'” (The Fifth Season, 449).

So the question is: What does the Moon do for the Earth and what would happen if the Moon went away?

Nasa explains that “the Moon makes Earth a more livable planet by moderating our home planet’s wobble on its axis, leading to a relatively stable climate. It also causes tides, creating a rhythm that has guided humans for thousands of years.” Based on this, I think that it is safe to assume a couple of things. First, that if the Moon were to cease to exist, Earth’s axis would be less stabilized. Since the moderated axis creates a relatively stable climate, if the axis lost it’s stability, the seasons would become more abstract. Forbes describes it as, “On Earth, without a Moon, its estimated that our tilt would possibly even exceed 45° at times, making us a world that spun on our sides. Poles wouldn’t always be cold; the equator might not always be warm. Without our Moon to stabilize us, ice ages would preferentially hit different parts of our world every few thousand years.”

Additionally, if the Moon went away, the tides would also diminish. According to Forbes, the Sun provides a miniscule amount of the tides, but not enough for them to change and they would be tiny. If the nature of our tides were to change this drastically, this quickly, the economies of coastal populations would also have to change drastically and quickly.

Based on what I’ve found, the chances of our Earth adopting a fifth season like those in The Broken Earth Series aren’t that likely, but things would drastically change and cause humans to learn how to live a different life. To end, I’d like to leave you with a video that Dennis found for me of Gru, from Despicable Me, shrinking the moon.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled Composition # 12581

Do long revolving, than clear strength.     A Name to touch of sons are able to play upon her     old from my nature’s race,

as the wanton-wise. There it charm     might asserted for authorized behold savour. The kind—     I meant to say the jaggèd

shadowings as the other sake     I stood with the air whence his chin, have been Greece flashest wall     a knife in Langdale hall,

and see if thou then close threw the     Flock. Of alabaster. Indeed that open eye would     undertake. The cubless your

hearts do duty unto no other’s     seas more disgraceful Actions may be strange charge black chords     upon the must go, throne,—

and cause. Night think she knew, while all     this god enamoured of twilight be well the crop-full     brown till years with marriage

is fled! That was he take me who     couth he wasn’t stuff are often come, whereon the green known in     Beijing buys for I ran

a yellow as you love. With mine     ear bubbled the soueraign power, descends the bodies the     dwarf buffoon stooped a little

tunes Ice preferring princes     waiting tongue untaught they don’t strife, shown to him, to one defied,     collection we are

you in vowing cry, or were allied     to That all our house or blame, ne strong, the tombs which hide     something returned wide, looking

bars, murmuring fair and so     much. Sheds his waiting their cups they took, will be in Thy hands.     With me for its steady

Skill, for Politic, cautious, and     the Law forbore, were cams’t thou deny’d, amid them would ape     the heard his eyes shift in

shirt-sleeves, leaning to trust thyself     uprear, though I wear the waves are gone once made them out they     might foretell me, is the

fire, should not the silver, which once     remaine. Her false: but a smooth the stay’d some presence we send,     with temperament, that wished

to feet were renew? All, men in     vain! Should be thy brood shoes! She suffer more the more the happy     omen, hast spied here,

that visions to see a sigh? Tears     come—falling place. Lady spread of sheaves to look there, like a     globe, the green graceful dittie.

Treble, did she.—All thinks me no     more than before it bright, of every kiss the moon rages     were stopp’d his one display’d

his lady passe, to wed Amphions     lyre, so cool them, and for away. All purpose noble     nature suffers according

that says, t is very part     I’d lie with her most twig that was this she!—This is in     her bosom the taking,

forth a Series so innocent,     nay, such cunning return’d into sunrisen more     Though mountains to the shoes!

[holfelderwrites124]

Family Love Snippet from the Unbreakable Series (Book 2, The Rescue)

Hi!!! Y'all have voted, and the poll showed Family Love, which is great. Euwenn's family is so important to him. He loves his siblings (Tara and Ryan) and has always been close with his mother (Maeve) and father (John). When Alabaster cursed him to never return to his family, and simultaneously made everyone he loved believe that he was dead, it tore into Euwenn and left him broken and frightened at only 17 years old. The Curse follows Euwenn as he works to un-do the curse -- or at least, find a life worth living. The Rescue follows Euwenn's friends (Rowan, Mirabel, Bek and others) as they struggle to find him when he is kidnapped, and cope with his erratic behavior once he returns.

This snippet is a TEENSY bit spoiler-y, though ... given that there's a 5 (going on 6) book series ... eh, you could probably guess the "spoilers" that are revealed. BUT if you'd rather avoid all spoilers, then this snippet is unfortunately not for you. Feel free to request other snippets -- whump, angst, and romantic love are still on the table (it's ... light romance, no spice) -- because I just love sharing Words. :) You could even request from specific books (The Curse, The Rescue, Alabaster's Revenge, Escapades, Empire of Dirt, and [in the writing phase] Good Bones).

Anyhow, rambled enough. Words beneath the cut. :)

John Gilmore knows what others see when they look at the pale young man before him. They see soon-to-be Captain Euwenn Gilmore. They see immense power, restrained behind a veneer of inexplicable kindness and gentleness. They see intelligence, a man who is more than just a source of power and might. They see a man who is good at his job – exceptionally so. They see someone who can never crumble, never break, never succumb to evil. They see someone who is wise beyond his years, kind despite the world’s unkindness, and stronger than most.

That isn’t what John sees before him now.

In many ways, those who see the soon-to-be Captain Gilmore were right. Euwenn is all of that – and far more. But John sees none of that now, here, in this hospital room. He sees none of those battles, none of that magic. He just sees his son – his first born child, lying there on that hospital bed, pale and unmoving. Memories surround him, memories long buried beneath that malicious spell and shimmer that had claimed Euwenn for six years. Memories of many vigils sat like this, watching over Euwenn as he slept off fevers, broken bones, and nightmares. Memories of laying cool cloths over Euwenn's forehead, smoothing back sweat-curled hair, murmuring soothing words when he woke, panicked and confused. John had never been as comfortable nor as capable as Maeve when it came to nursing their children, but he refused to leave them when they needed him.

A sharp pang of regret slices through him as he wonders who had nursed Euwenn during those six long years. Had anyone? Had there been anyone he could turn to, to help him when he was sick or injured? He hopes that Mirabel and Rowan had been there, had been there to take care of him, to keep him going, to comfort him when he was struggling.

John smooths back Euwenn's curls, wishing desperately he could have those six missing years back. Maybe then they wouldn’t be here, hoping and praying that somehow, Euwenn could hold on through this horrific pain and terror that he had been handed.

He is sleeping naturally now, at least, and they had let Maeve bring in a few blankets from home to replace those scratchy white hospital blankets. It would help calm him and re-orient him when he awoke, so Monica had said. John was just grateful he didn’t have to look at the way his son blended into the dead white of the room.

(hope that was good ... a lot of the other family interactions are SUPER spoilery unfortunately) Let me know what you think!! :D