#hes a demigod but his godly mother just gives him the power to not die easy and pull some real silly stuff in court

[science-lings]

I've been thinking a lot about Phoenix's family, and I got carried away so I'm going to put the whole essay below the cut, I'm so normal about him

I'm sorry there's just no way that Phoenix has any sort of normal family situation, not just because they're never mentioned even in passing as he goes through extremely major life events, but also because of how he is as a person. You cannot convince me that the guy who fell head over heels for Dahlia two seconds after meeting her had any sort of reliable support system in his life. When she got arrested the only person he could think about was a guy he hadn't seen since they were both nine instead of any current person who would likely care that he almost got poisoned and arrested for murder.

While I think it would be nice if he had lesbian moms who loved him, it just doesn't quite fit in with what we know about Phoenix. I mean, even in the WAA/WTA the only photograph on display is Zak's, and if there isn't a better person to put on the wall than the biological father of his daughter who abandoned her, that's pretty sad. (though I personally like to think that his portrait was there specifically as a target for things like darts and throwing knives). Plus, we already know from the thing with Dahlia that Phoenix's primary way of dealing with trauma and abusive people is just to pretend nothing happened and force himself to forget about them.

That's not even mentioning this guy's abandonment issues and complete willingness to adopt anyone he finds into his found family with zero hesitation. He meets Ema once for a few days, someone he has no personal connection to, but because she reminded him of Maya he stays in contact with her at some capacity to the point that he keeps her investigative tools with him and can have his name be used to gain her favor. Also, there's that new years art where she gets drunk with the Wright's and Apollo. And there are several more young adults/teenagers like that, he's got that foster kid to foster dad energy.

What I think makes the most sense is either that he was given up for adoption/ was an orphan in the foster care system who was passed around a lot, never getting too attached to one family, which led to his abandonment issues, or that he had a normal family life until something happened that estranged them from him. As a staunch believer in Transmasc Phoenix my thoughts are that he had transphobic parents so when he left for university he cut them off and changed his full name which explains why he is so desperate for emotional connection at that time. He suddenly has no one but a dream to find Miles and a girlfriend whose red flags he's completely blind to.

But honestly, there are so many reasons that people could come up with that would also make sense for his character. Maybe they were emotionally abusive and since everyone around him has dead or horrifically bad parents he's just not going to ever bring it up because who is he to complain when his besties are Maya Fey and Miles Edgeworth. Maybe they were just absent a lot and he had to take care of himself (and perhaps younger siblings) until he just couldn't take it anymore. Maybe they just tried to get him a girlfriend to settle down with one too many times and he just refuses to visit them, not even on holidays like Christmas or new years. It's just fascinating to me that there's absolutely nothing about them, I think there was even one of those little (official?) comics that poked fun at the fact that he doesn't really have parents, he may not even know who they are.

I also stand behind all of the ideas from my Phoenix Family HCs Poll because all of them would be so fun to explore even if some of them are total crack HCs. Tigre is only 16 years older than Phoenix but you can't say it's not possible that he messed around in high school and his girlfriend just gave up the kid for adoption and it would be so funny if Phoenix had to put his own father into prison after he pretended to be him.

In my Fem!Phoenix AU where I'm planning on expounding upon her relationship with the Feys and her own spiritual power (Phoenix does canonically talk to ghosts sometimes), the spirit of Ryunosuke found her and kind of became her imaginary friend who appears sometimes because I love him.

Even the idea of the goddess of law making him as an indestructible little terror on the legal system would be fascinating to expand upon. I would love to read about the whole concept of law being turned into a kind of religion, is she a single omniscient god (is she single?) or is she part of a larger pantheon? What would that mean for Phoenix?

I just can't even fathom that there's something normal going on with Phoenix and his family, I think he should pull an Apollo and secretly have the most batshit family backstory. Just looking at this guy and you know he has some kinds of issues, he was an art/theater major, he's got to be a little bit of that flavor of fucked up.

[ima-ghost-art]

Immortal Leo HC

TW: Suicide attempts & abuse

Okay so what if Hera succeeded in burning away Leo's mortality when he was a baby?? What if now, the reason he survived so long on the streets from such a young age, how multiple gods have had intense reactions to him, how he can go so long under such intense stress and no sleep and yet still manage to keep the ship running, why Gaia had always seen him as her biggest threat,,, was all because Leo was essentially immortal??

Now he wasnt a God, not yet at least. When it gets revealed by Hera after he returns from saving Calypso, she tells him, he could gain godly status if he chose a domain. The other gods couldnt challenge his claim, he was already an immortal demigod who had literally saved the world from destruction, and had the favour of multiple gods plus two camps of demigods.

All he had to do was claim his divinity and it was his.

Now.. Leo had known he couldnt die since he was a kid. Not long after the death of his mother, he had lived through things that should have killed him more times he could count, and it only fuelled his aunts hatred of him and the wishing he had died with his mom even more.

He could go weeks without eating, sleeping while he was on the streets, been beaten over and over again, in ways he knows no other kid would have been able to survive, and even attempted his own life on numerous occasions, each in a different way from the last, just trying so badly for it to end.

But instead he was seen as a "miracle" or more realistically an "exception" a "fluke" an "oddity" a "freek of human nature"

Leo still felt all the pain though, that last thin thread tying him to the fragile mortal body he was born with that still pumped with red blood. No one questioned why it shimmered with flecks of gold when he bled, no one ever looked at him long enough to care.

Being a demigod was enough to help Leo start to understand this part of himself, but just like his fire this was something else to set him apart from the others.

A little too much power

Not quite enough mortal

After his return from Ogygia, Heras announcement was only confirmed more by how Leo's blood now ran fully gold, the aura around himself stronger now, still not a God sure, but definitely no mortal demigod either.

Although his attempts too die once again, battling Gaia, (the physicians cure safely tucked away in Hazels coat pocket instead of on Festus with him) He instead finished burning away his mortal flesh, leaving everything else behind.

Unlike Percy did all those years ago, Leo never had a choice.

The Campers all saw him different now, no longer like them, the Gods now actually held him in some form of respect, even Zeus didnt make much of an argument about it.

He was expected to become a God..

Some of the campers even started giving him offerings for saving the camp. There was talks about building him a shrine, what domain would he now be the symbol of? would festus be his sacred companion?? Could they worship there friend who wasnt even dead but was he even living???

Leo never wanted to be immortal, just for once he wished to be like everyone else...

[jonmyblaze]

Percy Jackson champion of Hera

Au idea

During the lightning Thief

Percy just lost his mom. Doesn't know if she's alive or dead.

Percy figures that the best way to find his mother was to go to the goddess of women And marriage herself

Lady Hera: Queen of the god, protectors of mothers during pregnancy.

Percy knew that She is supposed to be the protector of mothers and protector of married women in abusive situations. And Percy thought, If he was a victim of That bastard gabe, His mother likely was as well. And that both infuriates and makes him even more sad, Because he believes that ultimately, it was his fault that his mother had to put up with Gabe's abuse all because of his filthy stench protecting both of them.

That means every slap, every punch every bruise or abuse, verbal and physical was ultimately because of him, And his own birth. And she had put up with that. His mother was a saint in his eyes, More valuable than he.

He would have gladly let himself die if it meant her surviving. He felt like he was a horrible son, ungrateful and pathetic. So he was willing to gamble his life if it meant the chance of his mother being saved, He was willing to take the chance of talking with A goddess if it meant His mother rescued from her captors

Whoever they were.

So on the 1st of June, 12:00 a.m. Percy enters Hera's cabin

He lights a sacrificial fire, threw in some blue cookies from dinner the previous night, As well as some ambrosia that he may have swiped. And he prayed to her.

"Oh holy Queen of the heavens, Lady Hera, I give out these offerings in As a sacrifice to your power and abilities so that I may convene with you and that you may help me with my plight. "

Who dares awaken me at such an hour?

------

Hera was intrigued by this young demigod sacrificing such delicious ambrosia and such strange entrees was rather interesting.

The fact that he did it in cabin practically demanded attention, The only time any demigods were allowed into her cabin was when A Demigod couple was to consummate their marriage.

This was but a child who was demanding her attention, But for what reason??

--------

Percy explains His plight to the goddess, truly she sympathizes. Percy was a mother's boy and reminded Hera of A younger Aries. She was willing to help and she did.

However, as soon as she uses magic to check out the situation more thoroughly, She delivers devastating but solemn news. Sally Jackson was in the realm of Hades, Not dead But not conscious.

She is frozen in time As a hostage.

And Hera can't do anything more than negotiate with Hades, For he is using Sally Jackson as a bargaining tool for the young Demigod. With a simple request.

"Bring me my helm of darkness and I will return your mother safe and unharmed. I will Grant until the end of the winter season, For you to find my helm."

Ultimately, Hera haggling was able to get Percy a very large deadline. This would be enough to train so that he may go on a quest.

Hera is apologetic, She ultimately wanted to see the two reunite. It was a long time since she had any prayers or Any form of worshipers

In the end the two make a deal, He would become her champion, if it meant saving his mother. But that meant signing a contract with her and following the rules of the contract

here are the rules, In simplest terms

treat women as your equal In terms of societal roles.

No cheating on whoever you are courting during the courtship

And if you are to be wed, you will never cheat on your partner, (You may choose polyamory And be wedded to multiple but it has to be consensual between all parties.....)

...... Finally, sacrifice a bit of your food to me after Hestia and your godly parent.

(Oh, and don't reveal this to anyone until I give you a sign. 9

At the time, Percy was yet to be claimed by his father. This gave him a sense of purpose, train until the time is right, And then go on a quest. Rather simple. But then things got complicated. Percy was claimed

Hera didn't foresee that "old barnacle beard" would also betray the oath. At the time she was more focused on helping Percy then figuring out who his godly parent was. Now Her brother and her husband forced the kid to leave camp early in order to find the master bolt (And the helm of darkness) before the summer solstice.)

I promise I'm making a fan fic on this

[thenerdywitchofthenorth]

You guys are so sweet.

Agree with Ann, I think the mask definitely has to be a gift from his mom. After all Cassandra with 100% want to do everything to keep her baby boy safe especially since she can't intervene. And jelly , maybe one of the gifts could have a wing Motif to it, I'm not sure what exactly, whether to give him straight up mechanical wings, or shoes with wings although that's a more Hermes thing than Nike. If you have any concept ideas I would love to see them.

And yes, his Visions aren't exactly clear, cuz giving a character Future Vision that is consistent and clear that is a straight way to writing yourself into a corner and that's not fun (been there done that will not go back) like I said I do think that he would see different outcomes play out, but now that you mentioned the force I do like the idea of him seeing false futures and trying to figure out which one is the correct one. I think that fits perfectly and doesn't completely overpower him. Like our boy is powerful but in a fun way.

And maybe Mikey didn't give him his mask, but I can totally picture Casey wanting to learn everything he can from his family, once he gets to interact with them like not only Mikey teaching him how to paint but how to weave baskets and forage food, or learning how to repair and build weapons from Donnie, how to fight from raphael, or how to heal and utilize his prophecy powers to come up with strategies from Leo. Hes just eager to learn from everyone in his family, that which brings me to my other point about Casey that I wanted to explore with you guys.

So in Canon Casey's from an apocalypse, and was raised by a mismatch found family. Future where everybody has to work together and and trust one another to survive to the next day, because there's no room for prejudice when you're literally being hunted down by a lovecraftian slimy alien overlord, so I think community and family are things are very important to him. And I think we can even incorporate into this AU.

Once again this Casey has been raised in a very interesting environment. his mother ( which I just came up with a few ideas for but I want to share them once I finish the concert for her) she had her own journey to fulfill, he didn't see it as her abandoning him, Casey understood that she had her own destiny. And he was never truly alone. His mother always made sure he had everything he needed to complete his journey, not to mention had the april , the turtles , especially Leo and the rest of the Hamato clan looking after him in every turn, but also giving him enough space to grow and figure out things on his own. In his journey he's seen people with similar stories to him, demigods and heroes trying to prove themselves, some better people than others. He also knows that not everyone will make it to the end of their jorurney he knows the world isnt black and white, he's seen the unfairness of both Gods and Men. Casey has seen just as many demigods die because they were fulfilling an errand for their Godly parent who didn't really care for them, just as many times as he's seen Samurai fall because they were serving an uncaring Lord.

So once he does fulfill his journey and earns his godhood, he doesn't bother with a mortal disguise, he isnt hidding who he is and he wants to make people know who hebis and that he's there to help. Because that's all he wants he just wants to help others . After all his the god of Victory and roads ,his job is literally to be helpful he doesn't discriminate who asked for his help, whether it be Yokai ,human or any other mythical creature he's there, to guide you whether it be to Victory or to your home, it depends of what you ask of him.

And I think that when usagi comes around he's the one that is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, while yes he's protective of his father figure, and is upset that he got hurt. He also understand where usagi is coming from. After all, he had spent more time in the mortal world than any other member of his family , he's seen why some people don't trust a gods. It also doesn't hurt that he sees a future where Usagi and Leo are happy together, even if the rest of the family (looking at you Donnie) are convinced that that's the false future.

@furiousjellifish

@annonniiiiieeeee

@fatalflawsy

I have have a love relationship with this one, I did have it relatively fast but every time I wanted to finish it something happened, so here we go Casey God of roads and Victory.

So for his god the outfit I took the colors of his original outfit ,made them a little bit more vibrate, the pattern on his outfit is supposed to be Lotus I thought that it was fitting with his character. His headband is decorated with leaves of an olive branch, I thought it was a good symbol of victory, and you can also see Leo's markings represented there. I thought it was a good combination of both of his parents and also a Greek and Japanese mythology because we're both cuz we're pulling from both for this AU.

And yes, Donnie made and gifted him the purple armor.

Okay we have what I like to call his Hero Journey outfit. This is when he was still earning his godhood, I'm not too happy with it not just because the Cape is a little too orange and I think I should have made the sleeve shorter. Although I am happy with the fact that I accidentally made him look like a turtle.

Here we have some baby Casey with his parents. Like we discussed while Cassandra was earning her own godhood she asked Leo to look after her son because she couldn't interfere, so Leo went down there to look after the boy.

Also I had this idea that maybe throughout Casey's Journey one of them gifts hñ, he got from the gods, was the gift of Prophecy thought so he occasionally gets Visions from the future, he's not an exact Oracle, think something more like Future Vision from Steven universe. That he sees different outcomes and possibilities of the future. I talked to @fatalflawsy about it and they suggested that maybe that's is worked into his God of Victory persona, that he can see different outcomes and can figure out the best way to win the fight, and I think of it that can also be worked into his god of roads, just like there's different roads in life he sees different outcomes and can see whats the best way to guide people towards.

Also I made it green because it's a reference to the color that Ann chose in AWOSAN for his nimpo, so I took that and ran with it.

So hope you guys like it cant wait to hear you feed back

@annonniiiiieeeee

@furiousjellifish

[allxthingsxglxtter]

Look who just woke up- is that CHARLIE ROWE? No, I must have been mistaken that’s LITO AMANA from PERCY JACKSON (oc: son of Phanes, neutral). I heard he is 20 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off WISHING HE COULD FIX EVERYTHING, LIFE LEAKING THROUGH HIS FINGERTIPS, TRYING TO BE MORE THAN HE IS impression. They’re known to be quite CARING but have a tendency to be WITHDRAWN on their bad days

TW: Illness, death

Gender/Pronouns

He/Him

How long have they been in Sydney?

He’s been in Sydney about 2 years, in his fake life he’s been here his entire life

Job

He’s studying healing at Weirdsister and taking some med classes at University of Sydney

Which suburb do they live in?

He’s got a house in Bondi

Memories of their real life :

Lito knows that his childhood is the exception and not the rule, and he’s grateful for what he had.  His mother and the god who sired him, Phanes, did love each other, Lito the result of their union and his mother was overjoyed to have him.  She loved him, and he loved her, and that was all he needed.  When he was eight he started being able to give things life, or heal scrapes and bruises, and that was when he got to meet his father.  The god explained his abilities and their limits, his power only as strong as the life force he held in his mortal body, and that he should be careful not to overdo it or he would die.  Lito is still grateful to his father for taking the time to even bother explaining to him the risks, and still holds a fondness for his godly parent he knows most other demigods don’t. 

He didn’t really interact with the war against the gods at camp, his ability to feel life in others especially terrible when he could actively feel it leaving the people he cares about.  The only battle he took part in was the battle of the Labrynth, and that only out of necessity.  He didn’t expect things could get worse after that, but he was very, very wrong.  He left camp that summer to come home and discover his mother was dying, with only a month or so left to live. He tried to heal her, but the sickness was too big, and any efforts he made to try and heal it little by little were useless. Lito dedicated himself to trying to grow his power, expand his life force or be able to get the power from somewhere else, but nothing he tried helped, and finally he knew what he’d have to do.  It’d take his life, but he wasn’t going to let his mom die like that. 

Lito arrived at the hospital that last day expecting that it was his last, but when he walked to her room he was stopped by the doctors, informing him his mom didn’t want him in the room when she passed.  They tried to be gentle about telling him, but he knew his mom had taken the decision to save her from him, Lito immediately tried to get to her, fighting anyone that got in his way but it was no use, too many people between him and the door and he was sedated rather quickly.  When he regained consciousness it was too late, a teary eyed nurse there at his side to tell him his mother was gone.  She’d left him a letter, undoubtedly her goodbye, and even to this day he’s been unable to open it.  Losing her and being unable to save her left him shattered, Lito not knowing who to be anymore without her, but he just took it day by day, fixing and healing anything that he reasonably could and when he returned to camp the next summer he just did what he could to help.  If any of the other campers noticed he didn’t talk about himself or his mom anymore no one said anything about it.

What was their fake life like?

TBD

[panda-noosh]

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

Words: 21k {:))))}

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

Genre: angst - pjo crossover!!!

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

----

Lucius Malfoy hates demigods.

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

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

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

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

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

  Lucius Malfoy really, really hates demigods.

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

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

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

  “You underestimate us.”

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

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

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

  “We should track this Malfoy bloke down.”

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

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

  “They're definitely joking.”

   “I'm not.”

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

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

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

  Annabeth pales.

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

   Percy blinks. “Boring?”

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

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

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

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

  “Weak.”

   “Coming from-”

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

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

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

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

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

  Alone.

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

  Is a god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ----

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

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

   Percy notices the tension, and finally snaps.

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

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

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

  “He doesn't know us.”

   “Good.”

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

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

   “Thank you, Percy.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I mean, she isn't wrong, Percy.”

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

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

   “I only said that to make Annabeth angry.”

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

  “I highly doubt that.”

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

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

  -----

  You and Percy remember this so well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Enough to travel to London?”

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

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

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

  It stops once your feet hit the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You and Percy share a glance.

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

  “Probably.”

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

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

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

   “Good job, soldier.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “That's not Lucius,” Percy says.

  “It definitely is not.”

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

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

  “I thought it was!”

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

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

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

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

  ----

  “Would you just wake up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Finally, you snap. “Hello.”

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

  “I didn't mean to scare you.”

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

  You blink. “Stunned?”

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

  “Is that some kind of spell?”

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

  His father.

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

  “You look a lot like him,” you say.

  The boy narrows his eyes. “My father?”

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

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

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

 You smile. “I don't go to Hogwarts.”

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

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

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

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

   “I didn't. Percy did that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Where are you going?” he demands.

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

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

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

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

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

  “What's your name, anyway?” you ask.

  He tenses. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”

   “Sounds evil.”

  “It's a strong name.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ---

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

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

  That's kind of what he is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I was fine. The boy I met – Draco -”

  “Draco Malfoy?”

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

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

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

  “You've just said he Stunned you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ---

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

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

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

  “Dickhead.”

  “Is that him?”

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

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

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

  “Oh, Lucius. Yeah. He's there, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Same difference.”

  “I'm flattered.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Not too bad, then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “I get that.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Really?”

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

  “That blonde girl I saw you with-”

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

  Draco pauses. “What powers?”

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

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

  “Stay here.”

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

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

   “So call someone!”

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

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

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

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

  A chimera.

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

  “What the hell is that?”

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

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

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

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

  Draco spins. “Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “How did that get in here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Draco's eyes widen. “Y/N did that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You pause. “Why do you care?”

  “Because what I just saw you do-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Draco withers. “Oh.”

  “Why do you care anyway?”

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

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

  “I could ask the same thing about yours.”

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

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

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

  You pause. “Different?”

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

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

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

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

  People who aren't like him.

  “And what about you?” you ask.

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

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

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

  You smile. “No, I don't think so.”

  ---

  The dreams are worse that night.

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

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

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

  “Dad.”

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

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

  “Dad,” you repeat. “Where's Nico?”

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

  “Good. Better than ever, actually.”

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

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

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

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

  “I wouldn't exactly say comfortable-”

  “He held you up when you fell.”

   “And that was very nice of him.”

  “That was inappropriate.”

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

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

  “I think that's a little harsh.”

  “His father wants you dead.”

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

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

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

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

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

  “It is my job as a father-”

  You scoff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  But you can't.

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

  “Fuck sake,” you whisper.

  “I put it out.”

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

  He looks exceptionally smart.

  Exceptionally smart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Daughter of...”

  “Ares.”

 “God of...”

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

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

  “Boring.”

  “Necessary, I think.”

   “Tell me how that all works.”

  Draco glances over. “Magic?”

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

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

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

  “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  You glance over. “You don't mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Wingardium Leviosa!”

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

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

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

  “'Course you didn't.”

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

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

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

  You probably need to thank him for that.

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

  ----

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

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

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

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

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

  You slowly straighten up. “You saw that?”

  “Answer the question.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “He saved my life.”

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

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

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

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

  You pause. “Here we are, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

  “You're grasping at straws now.”

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

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

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

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

  “Get out, Dad!”

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

  ----

  Draco seems to be getting comfortable in camp.

  Your father doesn't like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Really?”

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

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

  “You and Percy are really close.”

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

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

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

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

   It clicks.

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

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

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

  “Oh right. Nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “Things?”

  “Oh, you know what I meant!”

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

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

  That's what does it.

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

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

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

  The cloud follows him.

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

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

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

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

  ----

   Percy always knows when something is wrong with you.

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

  He must notice it now.

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

  But you don't.

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

  Not until now.

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

  Leave it to him to be blunt.

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

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

  “Try it.”

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

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

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

  “Kind of.”

  “Was he taking his fathers side?”

  “No.”

  “Was he insulting one of us?”

  “...Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Yeah,” you grumble. “It was.”

  “Sounds like he fancies you.”

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

  “And you're disappointed about that?”

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

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

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

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

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

  “What do you think I'm gonna do?”

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

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

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

  That's rare.

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

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

  Draco tries his best to stop the panic.

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

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

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

  It screams My dad is a god.

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

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

  “Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  But then the options come into his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

  “Well, it was stupid.”

  “Yes-”

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

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

  “Yes.”

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

  “Love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  The words come out harsher than Draco planned, but he can't help it. Percy is sat there, basically drooling over you, and it's driving him mad. It's been driving him mad from the instant he got that stupid thought stuck in his brain that maybe – just maybe – you and Percy were something a little more than just the best of friends.

  Percy is grinning, though.

  Draco scowls. “What's so funny?”

  “You really like them, don't you?”

  “I never said-”

  “Personally, I wouldn't touch Y/N with a six foot pole,” Percy continues, which just makes Draco even angrier, and he no longer knows just what he wants. “I'm talking about my girlfriend, Annabeth. The blonde girl. Daughter of Athena.”

  It takes a moment for Draco to remember who Annabeth is. But then it dawns on him, and suddenly everything is making sense.

  His cheeks warm again. “Oh. Right.”

  “Yep. So that's that.”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “Nah, don't be. It's not me you need to apologise to.”

  Draco bites his lower lip, understanding that Percy is right; he said some awful things, and he put you on the spot when you really didn't deserve it. You were doing nothing more than talking about your best friend, and Draco let his own jealousy push to the forefront.

  He looks over at Percy to see the demigod grinning again, an expression he often seems to have. Draco wonders why you don't like him, why you decided to spend all those hours with him instead of Percy.

  And as if Percy can read his mind, he says, “Y/N likes you too, you know. Like, properly likes you.”

  Draco pushes up from the grass, gives Percy a grateful smile before heading out on his mission – to apologise.

  ----

  You run into Lucius Malfoy shortly after Percy storms off.

  It's quite a chance meeting, though part of you can't help but feel that maybe Lucius had it all planned out from the beginning. He holds himself like a man who knows exactly what he wants, like a man who doesn't understand what a chance meeting is.

  You pause in the grass, watching him wade towards you. In your hand, you hold your sword, but that clearly isn't enough of an intimidation tactic against the tall, pale wizard. He stops only when he's feet in front of you, and with his posh accent, he says, “Y/N.”

  “Mr Malfoy.”

  “Where is Draco?”

  “Beats me. He isn't my son.”

  Lucius's nostrils flare. “Can you put that sword down whilst talking to me, please? It's disrespectful.”

  You look at the celestial bronze blade and tilt it back and forth. The sun hits off the hilt, illuminating the Greek words inscribed upon it. “No. I quite like it in my hand.” You look back at Lucius and smile pleasantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr Malfoy? Are you lost?”

  Lucius grits his teeth. Something throbs in his jaw, and honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he were to draw back now and punch you square in the face.

  Or he could just cast a spell, or whatever it is wizards do.

  “You know, Y/N, Draco has told me an awful lot about you,” he growls.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. And quite frankly, the details he has given me only further prove my theory that your kind are just unnatural.”

  He's only trying to wind you up. You keep that in mind as you stand before him, listening to him spew such hatred; you could so easily just chop him to pieces right now. You could end this for everybody, but you think of Draco and how he would react and that thought alone is enough to silence the violent thoughts before you lose grip on your powers.

  “I'm sorry you think that,” you mumble. “Hopefully you'll be out of camp soon enough and won't have to bother with my kind for much longer.”

   Lucius laughs. There's no humour in it. It makes you ill just listening to it. “He told me about your little parlour trick – raising the dead, is it?”

  “Controlling the dead.”

  “That's Dark Magic, dear. That's the devils work if I've ever heard of it.”

  You open your mouth to respond, but the chance is ripped away by the sound of someone else's voice ringing in your ear.

  “I don't really enjoy being called the devil. He and I are two very different legends.”

   You close your eyes. “Dad, go home.”

  He doesn't listen to you. Of course he doesn't. Instead, he steps up to your side and places a warm hand on your shoulder. When you look up, he's smiling at Lucius with the same pleasant smile you gave him only seconds before – the pleasant smile that hides the fact you're on the verge of murdering someone.

  “Is there a problem here?” Hades asks.

  “Who are you?” Lucius demands, and you very nearly laugh at his stupidity.

  Hades actually does laugh at his stupidity as he motions between you. “Surely you notice the family resemblance?”

  Lucius stares, and then it all clicks into place. His eyes widen, mouth dropping open in a look you can only label horror. He stumbles back and says, “Hades?”

  “A god,” you pipe up. “So watch what you say. I can't hold this one back.” You turn to Hades with an exasperated look. “Who let you crawl out of Tartarus again?”

  “Nobody lets me do anything, dear,” Hades replies, keeping his eyes on the horrified Lucius Malfoy. “I just heard what our little friend here was saying to you, and I thought I'd come and put him in his place. Can't have someone insulting my dear child, can I?”

  “You've never intervened before.”

  Hades pushes you backwards, ignoring what you've just said. “So, Lucius; would you like a little duel beforehand, or are you just going to let me end your life, plain and simple?” He pauses, and when Lucius doesn't reply, he adds, “There's no shame in taking the easy way out.”

  “Dad-”

  “Stay out of this, Y/N. This is between me and-”

  “Dad? What's wrong?”

  Your head snaps up. Draco is stumbling down the hill, eyebrows raised as he glances between Hades and his father. Your heart jumps at the sight of him.

  “Draco, pack up your things,” Lucius demands, staring at Hades as if afraid to look away lest your dad make any sudden movements. “We're leaving.”

  “Oh, happy days!” You rush forward and grab your fathers elbow, dragging him back as much as you can. “Did you hear that, Dad? They're leaving!”

  “I'm not going anywhere.”

  You whirl on Draco. “What do you mean you're not going anywhere? Can't you see the predicament we're in right now?”

  Draco raises his brow, clearly still confused as to what the hell he has just walked in on. “Who is this?”

  “This is my dad.”

  Draco's skin pales even more, if that is even possible. Hades turns, gives the young boy a pleasant little wave before he starts rolling up his sleeves, eyeing Lucius up again.

  “Oh, right,” Draco squeaks.

  You turn your attention back to Hades, latching onto his arm yet again. “Come on, Dad. This is pointless. They're leaving camp-”

  “Y/N, I'm not going anywhere before we talk.”

  “Draco, this really isn't the time-”

  “Make up your mind, Lucius. . .” Hades sing-songs. “Quick and easy, or slow and painful? I can do both.”

  Your heart hammers in your chest; this is not how you wanted things to go, not at all. You wish to every other god listening that Draco will just agree to go with his father, that he will leave and never return.

  But you don't really want that, do you?

  “Curse you, Zeus, you mind-reading bitch,” you hiss beneath your breath.

  Draco glances at you. “What?”

  “Never mind.” You grab Draco's shoulders and shove him back. “Just go, Draco, please. My dad is going to-”

  But you never get to tell Draco what your dad is going to do, not before Lucius Malfoy cries out, “Avada Kadavra!”

  You don't understand what's happened; the words just yelled by the Malfoy man are unfamiliar to you, jibberish if you've ever heard it, but Draco cries out and dashes forward. A blinding flash of light slams makes you stumble before Draco's arms wrap around your waist, throwing you to the ground with him hovering over you. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from your own, but neither of you get to bask in each others closeness, because all hell has suddenly broken loose.

  Hades is so powerful. Sometimes you forget that. You've read the stories, and you know he's a god, but sometimes, all he is to you is your annoying dad who shows up every now and then to be annoying, and then he leaves. Sometimes you forget he can literally raise the dead in two point six seconds.

  And judging by the corpses now stumbling around you, that's exactly what he has done.

  “Oh my god,” Draco mumbles.

  You push him away and clamber to your feet. “Dad, stop!”

  The wind is billowing, however, and your words fall on deaf ears. Lucius has fallen to the floor, staring up at your father with a look of pure, unfiltered horror. Hades stands over him, now in full god form, and the sight is breathtaking. He's at his full height now, standing over everyone with his arms outstretched. Dirt billows around him, and a black light emanates from his body, blinding if you weren't his child. Draco has fallen to the floor, covering his head with his arms, and you are so, so happy he has the common sense to look away.

  You stumble forward, latching onto your fathers clothes. “Dad, stop this now! Please!”

  “How dare you?” Hades's voice shakes the trees. His eyes are pitch black. He is a god. “How dare you use your filthy wizard spells against my child?”

  “I'm fine!” you cry. “Dad, I'm fine! Draco saved me! Look!” You helplessly wave your arms over your head. Beside you, a corpse laughs a high pitched laugh. You glare at it and say, “Shut up.”

  The wind only grows stronger as Hades continues to bellow his threats and his curses. Lucius is too stunned to even move. Behind you, Draco cries out your name, tries reaching for your sleeve, but you pull away and continue yelling up at your father, trying to make him see sense.

  “Dad, I'm fine! If you kill him, I'll never forgive you!” You grapple for something else, some other excuse you can use. “I'll – I'll never come back to Camp Half-Blood! I'll stay in the mortal world forever and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!”

   Hades falters. He glances down at you with those dark, sunken eyes and he says, “You know you're not safe there, Y/N. Don't joke about such things.”

  “Then let him go,” you beg. “Please, Dad. I never ask you for anything, but I'm asking – begging – you for this. Just let him go.”

   Hades tilts his head. “You're standing up for this piece of dirt?”

  “Draco,” you pant, as if that is enough explanation. “Draco just saved my life, Dad. The least you can do is spare his fathers life.”

  The wind dies down. Dirt topples back to the floor. The walking corpses drop to their knees before the soil reaches around them and drags them back into their graves, where hopefully they will remain for another few years. Slowly, your father shrinks back down to his usual five seven stature, his eyes gaining their normal dark colouring again. He continues staring.

  You stare back for only a second before you spin on your heel and march towards Draco. You yank him up by his collar and shove him back, hissing, “Go grab your stuff and get out of here. This is the shit you're gonna get wound up in if you stay. You don't deserve that.”

 Draco, flustered, grabs your shoulders and pushes back, keeping himself rooted to the ground. You want to cry. You need him to leave. You need him to be safe. You can't let him witness something like that ever again.

  “Please, Draco,” you croak out. “Save yourself the bother-”

  “You're crying.”

   You groan, quickly swiping beneath your eyes to rid yourself of the tears you didn't even realise were falling. “No, I'm not.”

   Draco wraps his arms around you and drags you into his shoulder. You don't really know why you melt into him in the way you do; it just kind of happens. Feeling the fabric of his shirt against your cheek, his arms around your shoulders, his body against yours – it's as if all the stresses of the evening flood out of you in a single swoop, replaced by a relief you didn't even know you were in such dire need of.

  It's like Hades and Lucius don't even exist any more. It's just you and Draco, swaying back and forth in the darkness, saying nothing and that being enough.

  “I'm not going anywhere,” he whispers. “Not until you know.”

  You pause, but don't pull away. “Until I know what?”

  “That – That you're special.”

  You look up, raising a brow. “Is that a demigod joke?”

  Draco groans, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “No. That's not what I meant. I meant – like – you're special to me.”

  “Okay...”

 He squeezes his eyes closed. “What I'm saying is, I don't want to leave you. I don't want to go back to the wizarding world and pretend I never met you. I want this – whatever this is – to last a long, long time.”

  Your heart thunders in your chest. Beneath you, the ground rumbles, like the floor is hungry. “Draco...”

  “I don't care what my father thinks of it,” he says, voice lower now. “I haven't been this happy in forever. I haven't met anyone like you before, and I'm so, so grateful you don't hate me.” He blinks. “Percy told me that, by the way – that you don't hate me. He wasn't lying, was he?”

  You laugh. “No, he wasn't lying.”

  “Oh, great.” He pulls you closer. “So, as I was saying-”

  “Oh, for the love of me!” Hades claps his hands impatiently. “Just kiss them already, you idiot! Why do mortals take so long to get to the point?”

  Draco looks over your shoulder, face going red. “Are you giving me permission to kiss Y/N?”

  Hades rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes. Just get on with it. I'm ageing.”

  “You're immortal, old man.”

  “Watch your mouth, little one, or you're grounded.”

  Your laugh is broken by Draco's kiss.

  In the background, Lucius yells in frustration, but he quietens as soon as he looks at Hades. You don't even care, though, because once again, it's like neither of them are really there. It's just you and Draco. There is no world separating you, there is no problems, you are the same. His hands trail along your jawline before crawling over the back of your neck, holding you in place, as if you would ever willingly pull away.

  Beneath you, the ground continues to growl. You imagine it's the dead people giving you a round of applause.

---

“Lumos.”

  You crack an eye open. Beside you, Draco shifts, lifting the covers further over his head. Through the thin material of the quilt, you can make out a dim yellow glow coming from Draco's wand.

  You roll onto your back, nudging his arm with your elbow. He pauses, taking a few seconds before he pulls the covers back down, revealing his messy bed head and bare torso. He gives you a grin and says, “What are you doing awake?”

   “You woke me,” you reply, before nodding towards the book resting on his lap. “What's that?”

  “Oh, this? Nothing. Just a little book I picked up from the library the last time I was at Hogwarts.”

  You raise a brow; you haven't seen Draco casually read in quite a while. Any time he has his head stuck in a book, it's usually to learn some new potion, or some new spell that he can show the harpies to impress them when they ask for a magic show. However, looking down at the book currently perched on his knees, you can see this isn't just some simple recipe book for wizards – the pages are filled with text, with very little pictures to accompany them.

  “Can I read it with you?” you ask.

  Draco's cheeks light up. “Maybe you should just go back to sleep. It's pretty late-”

  He goes quiet when you rest your drowsy head on his chest, tugging the quilt up to your chin. You hear him sigh, a noise of content before he looks down at the page and places his wand beneath the words. In bold at the top is the title Hades and Persephone.

  “Oh, my mum hated her,” you say.

  Draco chuckles. “I can imagine.”

   You trace your eyes over the words. You can't really make them out with your dyslexia, but Draco reads them for you, because he knows. He reads the story of your father and his true wife, pausing to ask you your opinions, or if you know anything about any of it. You tell him you don't, but you want him to keep reading, so he does, and together you learn about your father and his ways.

  Finally, when Draco reaches the end of that particular story, you look up at him and say, “Why are you reading this?”

   He shrugs. You don't buy it, though, and continue waiting for his response. He rolls his eyes at your patient silence and says, “Remember when you asked me if I'd ever read any of the Greek myths?”

  You raise a brow. “Yes...”

  “I hadn't read any of them. But I realised it's kind of part of your history, isn't it? These myths, the people and things you talk about. If I really want to understand you, I have to get familiar with a few of these terms, don't I?”

   A lump forms in your throat. “You're reading these for me?”

  “Of course.” He slams the book closed and says, “Quiz me. I can tell you who Demeter is right now.”

  You stare at him a moment longer, overwhelmed beyond words. Instead of giving Draco a pop quiz on all things Greece, you reach up and press your lips to his own, whispering the unknown words of “I love you,” against his mouth.

  Draco chuckles, the sound like music to your ears. “I love you, too.”

[indigo-brainspark]

The Fourteen Olympian Gods as Parents ranked

(Hestia and Hades are also valid, pass it on)

1. Hestia:

First, is Hestia, obviously, because she is the only one in Olympus shown to be capable of caring for other people, no matter who they're related to or what they're doing. It's sad cause she isn't really interested in having children, adopted or otherwise, because she doesn't want to become like her parents, and treat children like that. But, she regularly checks up on the people at Camp Half Blood, and provides them as much support as she can without breaking the law.

2. Artemis

Also, kinda ironic, considering she's also a virgin goddess, but if it works, it works.

She's nice and kind, fierce protector of young girls, a staunch feminist. I really think she's the 'mom' friend. To an extent.

Also, she goes around practically adopting every lost girl she finds, so...

3. Dionysus

Whoo boy, so, Mr. D really isn't the nicest person. To be fair, he doesn't want to be at Camp, so who can blame him?

But what you've got to admit, he's a great dad. He mourned the death of both his sons, obviously adored them, asked people to look out for them, etc.

He doesn't really like the campers, but it has been hinted that he does actually know everyone's names, but messes them up just because. And he offered mental support to Nico when he was suffering from PTSD, which seems to be something he does quite a bit.

4. Ares

Yeah, him. He's a jerk, let's be real, but to his children? He's a softy. Think about it: he gave Clarisse an electric spear, a ship, a squad of skeleton soldiers, and she's not considered to be the 'special one' in the Ares cabin, it's just casually mentioned that she got that spear as a birthday present. So she's not the only one to get presents like this.

5. Hades

Hades... Is an interesting parent.

On one hand, he viewed his children as pieces of power at one point in time.

On the other, once he developed a connection, he's willing to do a lot for his children. He has given Nico a home, while he was running from the rest of the world. He came to support him with an army though he had no obligation to do so. He's giving Nico a room in his palace for when he ever needs it (though it's hinted that it's for when he dies) he let Nico procure a sword, he let Nico sneak his Roman sister out, he probably had some hand in getting him the pomogranate seeds that kept him alive.

So, yeah, I think Hades does have the best relationship with his demigod kids, probably because he only has so few demigod kids. But if he didn't like Nico... Things would've gone very differently.

6. Poseidon

Yeah, Poseidon isn't the best dad, but he isn't the worst. Once he gets to know his son a little, then he starts to protect him. That's when he started to look out for him. He doesn't do anything more than that, but sometimes that's enough. Honestly, I think he's doing pretty good for a godly parent.

But he doesn't exactly have the same relationship with his only son as Hades... Since he only shows up for when it's most necessary. So, Hades got the top spot between these two.

7. Hephaestus

So, Hephaestus is an interesting parent. First, comes the fact that even he's admitted he's not comfortable around people, and doesn't understand children. Despite that, he watches every single child of his, and probably claims them soon. He gives his children ideas, and appreciates them, even though he doesn't know how to communicate it.

He could use a little work, especially in letting his children know that he cares, but other than that, he's an alright father.

8. Apollo

So, Apollo could use a lot of work. And he's definitely improving now that ToA has ended. But even before that, he seemed like an... Alright parent. Not the best. Not the responsible one. More like the fun one. He remembers his children, and those children's mother and basic things like that. After ToA, he's definitely gonna be a lot more present in his kids' lives, and could have definitely ranked higher, but we haven't really seen any of that potential and hypothetical growth yet, so here he stands.

9. Aphrodite

So, Aphrodite doesn't really seem to be a great mom, considering everything. She's not exactly in touch with how her kids might want something different at times, and that tends to put a bit of pressure on them.

It's more like she doesn't care, until she decides it'll be fun to talk to them.

Honestly I have nothing that bad to say about her, but nothing good either

10. Demeter

Same thing. I genuinely don't get to see Demeter interacting with her kids to see how they get along, so I can't say anything in her defense, except there are definitely worse people.

11. Hermes

Okay... So Hermes doesn't exactly care. Sure he keeps half an eye on his kids, but he doesn't have any interest in keeping an eye on them until it's too late. He even admits it himself!

12. Athena

Oh boy, yeah, I know. So, Athena is extremely calculating. It's been shown that there is nothing she won't sacrifice in exchange for victory. It's openly admitted that several children of Athena have died going on the quest to find the Athena Parthenos, which is kinda messed up. And it's openly admitted she ignored her children for a long time. Annabeth was actually willing to die on a quest when she was twelve to gain her recognition and that's not okay.

13. Hera

You all know she sucks. Her entire marriage was doomed for disaster. Her actions might be justified, but lashing out and ruining the lives of people who have done nothing to you is just a new low.

14. Zeus

So many problems with this guy. We know he can't keep it in his pants. And yet he continues doing it. And those kids repeatedly get in major trouble because their father is ruining their lives and putting a target on their backs. And what does he do? Nothing. He does nothing!

No remorse, no help, never changes his ways. I hate him.

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

The Life Of Luke Castellan

This is a timeline of Luke’s entire life, written because a lot of you have really really bad takes on who he was, what he wanted, and what he actually did. Everything written here is a fact taken directly from the books. 

Luke was with a mother who inadequately took care of him from the age of one year old onward. Hermes left May and Luke shortly after May tried to host the oracle and went insane. 

May Castellan scared Luke so much that he hid in closets so that she wouldn’t find him.

When he was nine years old, Luke ran away from home.

Luke spent two years of homelessness alone. 

Luke taught himself to fight monsters and survive on the streets.

Luke tried to share his godly heritage with mortals but they didn’t understand why being a demigod was bad and Luke eventually moved on. 

Luke was in a dragon’s cave when he found Thalia (it had been Thalia’s first night of homelessness). 

Thalia held back a lot of information from Luke (her family, the goat, etc…) 

Luke is easily manipulated by affection and compliments. He will immediately do whatever someone wants him to if they praise him. 

Luke and Thalia are homeless together for three years. 

Luke and Thalia meet Halcyon Green when they’re 14 and 12 respectively by running into a trap. They’ve never met an old demigod. Hal kills himself so that they can escape the trap. 

That very same night, Luke and Thalia meet Annabeth (who has been homeless for a couple of months and looked after by Athena). Luke is the one who senses another demigod nearby. Luke loves Annabeth immediately and decides that he’s going to be her dad. They make safe houses everywhere with emergency supplies. 

A short while later, Thalia is injured and they go to May Castellan’s house for refuge, where Luke meets his father, Hermes, for the first time. 

Hermes tells Luke that he should not have come home and that he’s getting too old to be on the run without help. He says that he will arrange a quest for Luke so that Luke can do one great thing before his life turns sour. 

Hermes points Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth in the direction of Camp Half-Blood. 

They leave May Castellan’s house that same night. Luke is angry and upset. He’s convinced that his dad doesn’t love him. 

Sometime after this, they meet Grover, who has been sent to escort ONLY Thalia to Camp Half-Blood. Grover and Thalia didn’t want to leave Annabeth and Luke behind. 

Luke challenges every monster they come across. 

However, they’re being hunted down by a lot more monsters than usual because Hades is sending monsters after Thalia. Hades is doing this because Zeus killed Maria Di Angelo, a mortal whom Hades loved and had two kids with. 

Grover got nervous and got lost, they took a wrong turn and wound up in a Cyclops lair. The cyclops used his voice mimicry to confuse Thalia, Luke, and Grover, and then tied them up. Annabeth untied Thalia and Thalia saved them. But that gave the monsters enough time to catch up to them. 

There’s a final confrontation between Luke, Thalia, Annabeth, Grover, and the monsters on Half-Blood Hill just outside of Camp’s boundaries. Thalia stays to hold off the monsters and is slain. 

Zeus appears and turns Thalia into a pine tree as she’s dying. To prevent this from happening again, he decides to erect a magical border at the Camp, which will protect the demigods inside. 

Luke moves into the Hermes Cabin, which is overcrowded with the unclaimed demigods and the children of minor gods. 

When Luke turns 17, he’s given a quest by Hermes to seek a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides. He’s honored until he realizes that his quest isn’t important and has already been done before. While he fails to get the golden apple and is physically scarred from the ordeal, Luke does manage to take one of Landon’s claws as a trophy. 

The campers treated Luke with pity after he failed his quest. Luke’s anger and bitterness grew. Annabeth notes that he was never the same. 

Shortly after this, Kronos began to appear in Luke’s dreams and persuaded Luke to join his cause in bringing down the Gods. 

During the winter solstice, when Luke is 18 or 19, the year-rounders go on a field trip to Olympus. Luke steals the master bolt and the helm of darkness from the throne room.  Luke is caught by Ares because he got overconfident. Kronos was the one who gave Luke the words to say to convince Ares not to kill him and to start a war between the gods. 

After being caught by Ares, Kronos punishes Luke with nightmares. He eventually tells Luke that a hero who can be easily tricked will arrive at Camp and they’ll be able to deliver the bolt and helm to Tartarus for Kronos. 

When Luke is 19 years old, Percy Jackson, 12-year-old son of Poseidon, comes to Camp Half-Blood. Luke is kind to Percy and takes him under his wing. 

During Capture The Flag, Luke summoned a Hellhound to make Chiron think that Hades was after Percy and that the Camp wasn’t safe for Percy. 

Luke wins Capture The Flag (this win is later revealed to be something Annabeth set up).

After the hellhound attack, Luke teaches Percy sword-fighting one-on-one. None of the other campers want to be around Percy. 

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover are set to go on a Quest. Luke almost misses them leaving, but just catches them to give Percy a pair of winged sneakers. 

Luke hugged Annabeth goodbye, patted Grover on the head, and shook Percy’s hand. 

While the three are gone on their Quest, Luke is at Camp and asks about Grover and Annabeth. He says that the Campers are dividing and breaking out into fights. He calls the person who summoned the hellhound a scumbag (he’s calling himself a scumbag) and says that they leaked information which started the fights. Luke plants seeds of doubt in Percy’s head about Annabeth stealing the Master Bolt. He calls Annabeth his little sister. 

During the summer, Kronos gifts Luke with Backbiter, a sword that can dismember Gods and Titans. Luke is the one who named it Backbiter because he’s biting back against the gods. 

After the Quest, Luke announces the bead for the summer and gifts Percy with his leather necklace. 

Two months after that, Luke hacks the training dummies to pieces. He lures Percy into the woods with the promise of coca-cola and asks him if he missed being out in the real world. 

Luke admits that he feels like his Quest was for nothing, that his dad doesn’t care about him now that his one Quest failed, and that if he can’t have a normal life, then he doesn’t want to be left in obscurity. Luke is tired of being a pawn of the gods, who are only able to hold on to power because of their demigod children. He says that he brought Percy down to say goodbye and summons a pit scorpion. He admits that he wants to explain to Percy but he doesn’t have time to. 

Luke tells Percy that Kronos seduced him via flattery and sympathy and talked him into stealing something worthwhile to show off what a good thief he is.

Luke tells Percy that things will be set right and Percy will be killed. He also says that he isn’t as easily baited as Ares. Luke slashes the air with Backbiter and disappears into a ripple of darkness. 

During the winter, Luke has been convincing demigods to join their cause and has been training them.

Kronos convinces Luke to poison Thalia’s tree to get the Gods to send the campers on a quest for the Golden Fleece. Kronos needs the Golden Fleece to reform quicker. He promises Luke that after Kronos has been reformed, Luke can use the Fleece to heal Thalia’s tree. So Luke poisoned the tree.

Luke bought a yacht called the Princess Andromeda. He’s cleaned up his appearance and is enjoying the luxury of the cruise ship. He can now use telekinesis though it’s unclear if this is a power he had before or if he gained it from Kronos. 

Luke knew that Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson spent the night on his ship and left them alone until they went snooping. When he does catch them, Luke calls Annabeth and Percy his favorite cousins. He tries and fails to convince them that they’re on the wrong side of the war. 

When they refuse to join him, Luke sends them away with the incompetent giant brother, Oreius (rather than the more competent giant brother, Agrius) to be fed to the drakon. Doing this makes him nervous enough to glance at the golden casket that holds Kronos’ body. Later, Percy and Annabeth agree that he let them get away. 

Luke and his army have been tailing Percy and co. He captures them and brings them aboard the Princess Andromeda to question them about the Golden Fleece. He’s genuinely upset when he realizes that they don’t have it. 

Luke and Percy fight but despite having many chances to kill him, Luke only grazes Percy. The only serious wound Percy gets is a cut on his leg. Before striking a killing blow, Luke stops and tells Oreius that he can eat the others. Because of this pause, the party ponies bust in and Percy, Tyson, Annabeth, and Grover are able to escape. 

Sometime after this, Luke is no longer in charge of Kronos’ army. He’s been demoted and Atlas takes over. 

Luke holds up the sky to free Atlas. His face is scratched, his clothes are in tatters. 

Thorn brings Annabeth to him and Luke begs her for help. He tells Annabeth that she shouldn’t trust him because he’s been terrible to her, but he’s going to die if she doesn’t help him. It is later revealed that Annabeth wasn’t supposed to be the one brought to him (it was supposed to be a child of the Big Three) but Luke came up with a plan to make it work out anyway. 

Annabeth takes the weight of the sky. Luke thanks her, then tells her that her help is on the way and to try not to die in the meantime. 

It’s sometime later that Luke returns to Annabeth and sees that she’s in bad shape. He urges them to hurry the plan along because Annabeth is going to die soon. Artemis takes Annabeth’s place. Luke does not want to kill Annabeth, making excuses to keep her alive. Luke carries Annabeth away to take care of her injuries. 

Luke looks like he’s aged ten years. His skin is pale and his hair is gray. The scar on his face had been reopened. He seems to be able to sense when Percy is near, as he’s looking straight at the spot Percy is hiding and he says it’s Percy Jackson who is interrupting. 

Luke tries to get assigned to taking out the Hunters and Thalia. His request is denied. 

Luke doesn’t like that Atlas calls his army on the Princess Andromeda insignificant. Atlas admits that they’ll make a good Honor Guard for Kronos and brings up that Luke will become Kronos’ host. Luke is scared of becoming Kronos’ host. 

Luke is trying to get Thalia to join their side. He is terribly weak and speaks as though every word is painful. Luke is trying to get Thalia to agree because he wants his family together and also because if Luke fails at persuading her, Kronos will use Luke’s body as his host (which will kill Luke). 

Thalia immediately attacks Luke. Despite how fragile he is, he can still hold his own against her. The shield Thalia wields scares him and this annoys Luke. Luke has a bloody slash across his chest from Thalia. Thalia disarms Luke and wants to kill him.

Luke is afraid that she’s going to kill him. Thalia kicks Luke over the edge of a cliff. He’s afraid when he goes over the edge of the cliff. Until that very moment, Luke truly believed in his friends. Afterwards, he realizes that there’s no one he can count on. 

It is unknown if Luke died and was resurrected or if he lived through the fall. 

During the winter, Luke goes to visit Annabeth under a flag of truce. He told her that Kronos was going to use him to take over the world and he wanted to run away, like the old days. He was very scared and when she refused to run away, Luke tells her that she had better fight (kill) him right there because it would be the last chance anyone would get. 

Luke is forced by Kronos to bathe in the River Styx. It is said that Luke had to be pressured in many ways before he would do it. Before he does, he visits May one more time to get her blessing. It’s been 7 years since he last saw her. 

Between then, and the next summer, Luke turns 21. He starts paying good money for demigods. Geryon is helping to get him demigods. 

Luke no longer has Backbiter with him. The sword is being remade into a scythe. 

There is a plan to attack Camp Half-Blood. Luke is reluctant to do it. He is still afraid of becoming Kronos’ host but he shows no weaknesses in front of his army. 

It is heavily implied that he and Kelli, an empousa, are having sex. 

Luke finds Quintus (Daedalus) and they speak several times. Luke tries to persuade him to join Kronos. Luke asks him how to get through the Labyrinth. Quintus tells him that a mortal with clear sight can do it. Luke doesn’t like that answer and tries to find other ways. 

Luke sends solo explorers through the Labyrinth because the larger the group, the easier it is to get lost. As far as we can tell, none of them returned. Luke has a map but it isn’t working. He goes to Quintus and gets the String of Ariadne to help navigate the Labyrinth. 

Although Luke was previously buying demigods and accepting defects before that, they must now fight to join the army. 

When Percy, Annabeth, and Rachel stumble upon Luke in the Labyrinth, Luke is so busy staring at Percy that he doesn’t notice Annabeth until she shouts his name. 

Luke arranges it so that Percy and Antaeus fight to the death. He knows that Percy will win, killing Antaeus and allowing his army free passage through the territory.

Luke orders his monsters to kill everyone (quickly) except Annabeth. He wants to speak to her before the upcoming battle. He doesn’t even rise from his seat to relay the order and Kelli is thrown into his lap when Mrs. O’Leary is summoned by Percy. 

Annabeth notes that Luke looked nervous. 

Luke turns on Quintus, sending Minos directly to him. 

One day after the fight in the Labyrinth, Luke becomes the host for Kronos. Percy finds him lying in the golden coffin, looking very dead. There’s a hole in his chest, black and right where his heart should have been. 

Kronos awakens in Luke’s body. His chest is mended and his eyes are gold. He says that Luke feared Percy, that his jealousy and hatred have kept Luke obedient. 

When Rachel Elizabeth Dare threw a hairbrush at Kronos/Luke, it was Luke’s voice that said ow. 

Kronos/Luke do not lead the attack against Camp Half-Blood. 

Luke continuously fights against Kronos in his body. It’s noted by Ethan Nakamura that Kronos should be fully settled into Luke’s body by the following summer. 

Kronos leads the first wave against the demigods in Manhattan. Luke is not mentioned. 

At the bottom of the Empire State Building, Kronos leads his army. Chiron and Kronos/Luke fight. Chiron says that Luke was a good hero before Kronos corrupted him. Kronos says that Chiron filled Luke’s head with empty promises and then Luke broke through and said “you said the gods cared about me!” 

Annabeth attacks Kronos and says that she hates him. Kronos admires Annabeth’s spirit and says he sees why Luke wanted to spare her. 

Kronos destroys Olympus with the scythe Backbiter as he travels to the throne room. He does this because he promised Luke that he would tear down Olympus brick by brick. 

Kronos looks just like Luke, offering up the same sweet smile to Percy and Annabeth that he did while welcoming Percy to Camp. 

Kronos doesn’t hesitate to fight Percy. He touches Zeus’ throne and gets electrocuted, face covered in burns and hair smoldering. 

Kronos opens a fissure in the ground and Ethan falls through the sky. 

Kronos announces that Luke Castellan is dead and his body will burn away as Kronos assumes his true form. Annabeth knows that Luke has been fighting Kronos the entire time. Kronos/Luke is disarmed and Backbiter falls into the hearth fire.

When Luke sees the blood on Annabeth’s face, he regains control of his body. Kronos is ready to shed Luke’s body like a chrysalis but Luke pleads for Percy to give him Annabeth’s dagger and so that he can kill himself. Kronos burns his hands trying to pick up Backbiter. 

Luke begs until Percy gives him Annabeth’s dagger. He stabs himself in the armpit, which is where his mortal spot is. Kronos is banished from Luke’s body.

Luke’s entire left side is bloody. His eyes are blue again. He’s dying. Luke is in a lot of pain. He tells them that he’s going to go for rebirth and try for Elysium three times so that he can reach the Isles of the Blest.

Luke asks Annabeth if she loved him. She says like a brother. Luke is satisfied with this answer. He tells Grover that he’s the bravest Satyr ever. Luke grasps Percy with a hand still hot and burnt and begs him not to let it happen again. Percy promises that he won’t let this happen again.

At age 22, Luke Castellan dies.  

[notfeelingthyaster]

Imagine (Son of Hades! Percy; Godswapped! Big Three's kids (5/7) or (10/12)

House of Hades AU Pt.1 - Perseus' Journey

Hello! Before reading this, check on the masterpost - it's essential for the understanding of this. Read the warnings before proceeding. Leave reviews, suggestions, and good reading :))

Perseus falls for what it feels like hours - but he counts thirty minutes inside his head - it gives him time to think and plan.

He has his ax - his warhammer left behind in the ship, unfortunately - no food, an empty canteen, his very drained powers, and absolutely no way to get to the Doors. If all the monsters are leaving through the Doors, he could follow them. But how? Would they be able to smell him? How quick would the story of a demigod in Tartarus get to the ears of Gaea's army?

He would be hunted all the way through - and how many obstacles could he really cross?

Nothing in his body was broken - but, every few moments, he could feel himself flicker - absolutely drained. His priority should find somewhere to rest, if he even survives the fall.

Perseus doesn't want to think that way, but he can calculate it: he was falling for about thirty minutes now. 30min x 60 = 1800s; 1800s x 10 m/s² = 18000 m/s. Or 64800 km/h. Simple physics = he shall be a smudge at the bottom of Tartarus.

In fact, the free-fall itself should be enough to at least dislodge his internal organs. Why is Perseus still breathing anyway? Is his godly blood maintaining him alive?

If he survives this nasty fall, he can go to the river of fire - he spent enough time in the Underworld to know that the Phlegethon shall keep him alive - perhaps at a horrible price. It might stop him from ever speaking - the dead keep screaming in the Fields of Punishment forever - but he is not dead is he?

Perseus sees a river approaching - he can't summon the shadows to cushion his fall - these shadows are rebelling and he is too weak. He doesn't want to drown, but between the sharp stones and the water, he chooses the water. 

Perseus curves himself into a ball and hopes his heritage will protect him. It still hurts - he probably broke at least five ribs and his right leg feels weird - but he is alive.

The voices in the river are tempting - and Perseus is weak. But his fear of drowning and the sheer willpower of getting the fuck back to his friends is enough. He'll get back to the earth. He will get to his mother. The gods don't get to take this from him.

They took enough.

He goes after the fire river - the Phlegethon is never too far from the Cocytus, Dante was mightily wrong in his self-insert fanfiction - and everything hurts.

Percy cannot walk properly - his right leg is really messed up, all of it - and each breath he takes, he wishes he never fallen down this hole.

A selfish part of his mind wishes he had just... let Annabeth fall. But he knows that his heart wouldn't let it happen - he would die for any of his friends. For any demigods - this was never for the gods.

Everything is trying to kill him. The air is poisonous, the earth is shards of glass, the stones are scaly, the ground is too hot, but he still feels cold - like everything in this place is draining him. There's a giant infinite of nothing stretching over him - no sun, no ceiling, nothing.

The pit feels alive somehow. There's a weird pulsing every time he takes a step, and sometimes he trips on weird purple purulent bubbles. Everything is also so humid and slippery - it's like walking on dead fish.

He shivers - is the beginning of sickness and intoxication settling onto him. Perseus doesn't have the luxury to vomit - not here, not now. He doesn't have nutrients to waste. Perseus stop thinking about the place he is in - the less he knows, the best.

Perseus is half pushing himself through, before getting into the margins of the lava river and just drinking huge mouthfuls. It's awful - it burns his hands, his chapped lips, and all the way down to his stomach. He can feel the taste of ash and blood in his tongue, and wonders if his voice will be the same after this.

It's such a capricious thought that it makes him chuckle mutely. He is lucky if he survives to destroy the doors. It's a miracle if Perseus ever reunites with his friends - he would gladly do it without his voice.

The lava heals most of his injuries - the scars never leave. His leg is still a little wobbly - like he might fall any second.

After he fills his canteen, Arachne appears in all of her dastardly glory - and Perseus hates her. It's her fault he is stuck in this mix between the ninth circle of hell and Mordor. Another immortal being with a sense of superiority and a grudge against the gods. It's her fault, and Perseus wants her to suffer.

She deserves it - Perseus doesn't blame her for her grudge in the gods, but she took it out in them, in the demigods, in his people. At least he could take this opportunity to take this blight from the world for a while.

He kills her - slowly. He starts by cutting her legs - every time one reaches for him, he racks it off. Then, when it tries to run away - or better, roll away - he beheads it.

Because it's not a she. It's not a girl of Athens with a bad case of hubris - it's a monster. A monster created by Athena - and how fitting that the goddess created the monster who stomped her children for centuries in a search the goddess send them in. Wise, indeed.

He keeps limping to safety - is there even safety in this hellhole? Damn Arachne, damn Athena, damn Annabeth for wanting to prove herself to the bitch.

He loves Annabeth - not the way she possibly wants him to, but love nonetheless - but this. This is her fault. If not for her misplaced want for approval and immensurable hubris, they might as well be all in the ship now. But that was always his destiny, wasn't it? 

Child of Hades - might as well die in the depths of hell for those ungrateful bastards. Wasn't that what they did to his father? Cast him into hell - and isolate him forever from earth and heaven. They must be so happy, so glad that he is here, again dying for immortal beings that don't care.

He is going to get out. And then, he is going to punch every single god that he ever restrained himself from doing so: Dionysus, Mars Ultor, Venus Verticordia, Aphrodite, Bacchus, Juno, Hera, Ceres, Zeus, Jupiter, his father, Nemesis, Invidia, Athena. Every single one of them. He has a growing list.

He keeps limping - most of the time, he borders the stones that litter the margins of the fire river. Sometimes, he hides in the shadows of the cliffs - Perseus cannot waste his strength, and the more that he stalls the monsters to know he is here, the most he lives.He can't keep hiding for long. 

Three cyclops pass through him - the exact ones who tried to kill him in his first quest after the Bolt. They attack him - Perseus kills all three of them. It’s their fault too - they should’ve killed him before.

Ugly #1 tries to attack him alone - his hubris is his downfall. Perseus cuts both his arms before finally spilling his guts on the fiery ground. Ugly #2 and #3 go down together - both with their heads split open under his ax.

Perseus has no need for mercy. He has an objective - and no obstacle will stay in his way. He does meet Bob/Iapetus in the way - and is sad, because he has no space for morals here - righteousness will only get him dead in this wasteland.

The titan wants to join him - after he destroyed his life. He can't remember anything - not even here, on the motherland. How much of a dick can he be?

A big one, apparently, because he decides not to tell Bob anything. He doesn't have the raw strength to fight a Titan. He doesn't have his powers - not even his warhammer. It's just him, his ax, and a lot of firewater. And now, Bob and his war shovel. Perseus is not telling a titan that he helped murder two of his brothers and wiped his memory.

Bob tells him they are far from the Doors - that time passes differently inside Tartarus. When Perseus tells him, in a raspy voice that he barely recognizes, that he's been here for almost a day, the Titan disagrees - he might've been here for an hour or a week, maybe more, maybe less. There's no way to know.

They keep walking. The titan's aura is almost enough to keep them safe, but some monsters don't care. Perseus kills two empousai, four carnivorous sheep, and a spartoi - what wonderful flashbacks. Bob kills thrice as much.

They stop to rest in a cave at a secluded part of a cliff. Perseus is unable to sleep - what if Bob remembers that he is not Bob and decides to kill Percy in his sleep? What if they are attacked? What if this poisonous ground swallows him when he closes his eyes? 

So he curls around his ax, with his back to the wall, and keeps his eye on Bob. Bob ends up talking to him - even if Perseus doesn’t think he can talk back - about Persephone's garden and the bloom of pomegranates on the cold of winter nights.

It’s wishful thinking, but Perseus wants to be thirteen again, scrolling through the underworld gardens barefoot, hand in hand with Kore. He remembers the smell of her hair and the curve of her lips, and the way the flowers purred under their joined fingertips. She was the first to touch him - besides his mother - and that he didn’t fear destroying.

The walls are covered with some viscous substance. He doesn't think much about it - the more he thinks, the more he sees. And he doesn't want to see.

They leave when a caravan of monsters pass - and Percy muses if he was able to close his eyes for even ten minutes. They crawl through small passageways and climb walls that feel like ice and fire for what it feels like a week - it's impossible to know. 

Perseus is collecting scars - the river of punishment heals him, but he can feel them under the rags he is using to cover himself. A hellhound left a cut across his face, and he wonders if he'll look like Luke now. His right leg is still acting up.

Seconds could be millenniums and centuries could be hours. The two of them rest five times - it’s how Percy is counting the time.

The war hasn't been won. But the monsters keep reforming and walking in the same direction as them, so they also haven't lost yet.

They find a cat - a skeleton saber-tooth tiger, because this is the place for happy memories - and it just keep following them. It reminds him of Blackjack - and he doesn't have the heart to kill it.

Percy wonders if any of his friends are dead. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to fight for his friendship with Annabeth, if he’ll ever joke with Leo, mess Hazel’s curls, get scolded by Will, or teach Piper math.

He wonders if he’ll ever ask Jason to teach him how to swim to get over his fear of drowning, ask Nico the rules of Mythomagic or simply talk quietly with Frank again.

He wonders if he’ll ever get to choose a college, if he’ll ever see his friends and tell them how much he loves them again. Percy wonders if he’ll ever go on a date, see cheesy movies, have his first kiss with a boy.

He wonders if he’ll ever taste his mother’s cookies again. He misses the warm touch of the sun in his skin, and the days he didn’t survive on lava and sheer stubbornness.

They meet the Arai in a cliff - and Perseus cannot stop killing them. The first curse that falls upon him it’s dust, choking and strangling him - like so many enemies that he let the earth devour. Then the blindness - the same he inflicted in Hyperion with his shadows - and his feet turn to lead - Hercules. One after the other, all the monsters that he killed get their comeuppance - Perseus does not regret any of them.

One of the curses, however, doesn’t come from a monster or an enemy - it’s from Lee Fletcher. His heart aches with loss, a suffering Perseus doesn’t feel in a long time - depression, his punishment for killing Michael Yew.

Perseus regrets it - he also regrets Bob, who stands aside and does nothing to interrupt his suffering. Perseus doesn’t blame him - perhaps he would have done the same, have their positions been reversed.

He feels his blood boil - his body hurts with the pains of the injuries he inflicted through the years - and he knows Phineas’ curse will be the one which finally takes him.

Suddenly, Bob helps. It’s Kore who interceded in his name - the only deity who never failed him. But it’s too late - he doesn’t feel pain anymore. It’s a sign - a sign that he is going. 

He is glad Bob wiped the Arai - at least now, he can go in peace. In the middle of his haze, he looks around and finally understands what he is blocking and denying since this journey started.

Tartarus is not a place. Tartarus is the personification of everything bad - and it’s horrifying in such a level he closes his eyes - he doesn’t need his last moments to be a nightmarish landscape.

Percy can feel himself flicker. Since coming here, he wasn't able to use his powers well. Now he knows is probably because the "ground" is no ground, and he can't travel in the shadows, because the shadows are corrupted. Because this is beyond his father's domain, beyond the gods.

He closes his eyes and imagines Elysium - the children that fell in the first war. The soldiers of the Twelfth Legion that died to protect their home. Michael Yew, Castor, Silena, Bianca, Ethan, Charles. They are waiting for him on the other side.

If he dies here, does he even get to go there? What happens to demigods that die in the dark lands of monsters? Did he get to die? Or was he a part of this now? Would he reform eventually?

Bob is carrying him somewhere. He tried to force-feed him lava - but Perseus could have told him it wouldn’t work. There’s a limit even to magic rivers.

He must have passed out, because when he opens his eyes, he is in a gigantic bed, in a place he doesn’t recognize. Percy looks through the window. It’s not Camp, not Nova Roma, not Argo II - and definitively not Elysium.

The air is red and green and he can see the fires burning at a distance, the mountains of the body he is walking. He is still stuck in Tartarus.

Did he reform? Was Iapetus able to save him? How much time did he stay asleep? Where are they? Percy is pretty sure a house is not part of the Tartarus package.

The demigod tries to sit up, but something is weird. He looks down, and where his full right leg once was, now lies a half-metal one. 

Perseus can see gears turning, the places where the bronze meets black. When he tried to lift it, it answered as if that is his own - even the same weight. His mid-thigh is still meat and bone - but the rest isn’t his.

He touches his knee - knocks into it, twice. It's hollow and clangs like metal, but somehow, he can feel it. Perseus tries to detach it: impossible. Little tubes seen to stick in his upper tight.

Bob is outside - he is talking to someone. He enters the room, but Perseus doesn't see who is.

Bob - or, well, Iapetus - tells him that the weight of his earth-related curses, plus the sheer blood that he lost, was too much for his already damaged leg, the bone broken in at least five or six parts and an infection settling in. He wouldn't survive the fever - so the titan had to cut it off.

"When the Labyrinth fell, it fell here, leaving junkyards everywhere. There's one that is too close to the Mansion of the Night, so almost no monster goes there. Me and our host, we are no monsters - so we go there sometimes. We found a leg for you - from a mechanic body marked as Sextus."

Sextus - where had Perseus heard something similar? Oh, that's right. Quintus. He was wearing the prototype of Daedalus next body, that he never got to use because Percy freed - banished - him to the Underworld.

He says he adapted it a little - it was too short for Perseus, so they needed to bastardize an arm to make the socket a little bigger - and connected into his thigh.

"It was a pretty simple process - this version is advanced enough that the tubes connected themselves, we just had to put a little fuel. It will be like your own leg."

Percy wants to scream. This is not his leg. He wants this leg out, now, and his leg back. It feels wrong. Dead - he can see little tubes not unlike veins, but there's just lava running on them.

So this is what Daedalus used to fuel himself - the waters of Phlegethon, damned waters to fuel his damned life.

This is just a nightmare - how is he going to survive this without a limb? Will he be able to walk? Fight? Run?

But his voice escapes him - Percy is still too damaged from the lava. His scars itch - they are of a pale red, and he has all kinds of them. He must be a terrible person to attract such curses - the weight of Lee's curse was removed from his chest, but not his mind.

The neural connections in this must be pretty good, because he is able to feel when his "foot" touches the ground. It takes him a few minutes to readjust - bit it's just like nothing happened.

But it did. That's not his leg. That's not his limb - that's alien. It feels and it walks and it works even better than his old messed up right leg - but at least the messed up right leg was his.

Perseus has no need for limping now - but as he looks at his first mirror since this started, he staggers.

His whole body is mapped by white and red scars that mix with keloids - a jumbled mess of raised patches and ugly patterns. In his face, there's a scar just like Luke's - from his forehead to his jaw, crossing his left eye.

Perseus puts on his ragged shirt - he hates the scars on his chest - but he looks at his eye, and thinks it suits him - it's a mark of betrayal, of the gods' abandonment.

His hair is no longer the short curls he gained while in Nova Roma - now it's a big dirty mess that Percy can't cut or do anything about, so he just bundles it up on the top of his head, out of the way.

Jeez. He is a mess.

Everytime Percy takes a step, his "foot" clangs against the floor. He tugs his semi-destroyed shoes in, and goes with Iapetus - to meet their misterious host.

It turns out not all giants are bad - of course, Perseus thought that Damasen shouldn't be the only exception - Porphyrion, the one Jason fought, should've been so different. Enceladus too - wasn't Athena a goddess of war?

If they are supposed to be their complete opposite, why Ephialtes and Otis were all for parties? Why was Porphyrion just as arrogant as Zeus, why was Polybotes able to raise tides and shake the ground?

Perseus doesn't trust Damasen. He might be the "gentle" giant. But he could - easily - kill a drakon everyday. Maybe he first killed the drakon to help a girl - Moira was her name - but doesn't change the fact that he is able to kill a drakon.

He is grateful for the leg - grateful, even if a grudge is clawing it's way to his heart with the force of a thousand suns - so Perseus thanks the giant, drinks the broth of drakon meat, and rests.

They stay there for a while - Perseus doesn't count time well. Damasen does not seem really happy to let him stay - but Iapetus has some hold over him. He tries to convince the giant to fight for them, but for no result.

Damasen tells him that, while Gaea locked him here, he would never get accepted by either side - the gods would never let him live between them. He has no reason to pledge his loyalty to anyone.

Iapetus/Bob and him sit together. It doesn't feel like forgiveness when the titan finally talks to him. They talk about Zoe Nightshade and Calypso of Ogygia, and the stars above. The titan tells he misses it - his family, his granddaughters - he calls them little stars, because of their father.

Perseus doesn't talk much about their sorrows - he focuses on the way Zoe was determined on doing everything for what she believed on, and Calypso's cunning mind and sweet words.

Iapetus doesn't forgive him - But he does tell Perseus he has a plan.

Apparently, he cannot cross the army of monsters being a demigod - he would be dead in seconds. He only survived up until this point because of his connection to the Underworld.

So Perseus needs to find Akhlys - the goddess of misery - and get the Death Mist, something to shroud him from everything trying to kill him.

Even Damasen's helpfulness has an ending - when Polybotes comes after vengeance, Iapetus helps Perseus run away - with just his rags, a canteen of firewate, his ax and his new leg.

He hates his leg. It answers almost like it's his, and he can walk almost perfectly with it, and when they had to stop and fight a cyclops, it didn't stop Perseus.

But he hates it. Percy wants himself back. He wants out of this desert and doesn't think there's a single good feeling inside him anymore.

But he has to keep going, keep walking. For Nova Roma. For the Camp. For Reyna, Malcolm, Will, Frank, Jason, Piper, Hazel, Leo, Nico, Connor, Alabaster, Grover, Bob, Clarisse, Paola, Annabeth, Rachel, Persephone, Kore, his mom.

Perseus' stomach rumbles with hunger - he grew too comfortable with the drakon's meat stew in his stomach and the rough blankets beneath him. He got too pampered - time to go back to the hot shards of something beneath his cheek and the taste of fire in his tongue.

Now, at least, he can sleep a little - when he is not plagued by nightmarish visions of what he can now see, or of his friends dying because he is stuck here and unable to help. If Iapetus hasn't killed him until now, it's very improbable that he will.

He keeps muttering to himself - Reyna, Malcolm, Will, Frank, Jason, Piper, Hazel, Leo, Nico, Connor, Alabaster, Grover, Bob, Clarisse, Paola, Annabeth, Rachel, Persephone, Kore, Sally - a chant for hope that never stops. Their names sound bad in his tongue - like he is corrupting them.

The closest they get to the goddess house, the more miserable he gets - Hazel, Leo, Nico, Connor, Alabaster, Grover, Bob, Clarisse, Paola, Annabeth, Rachel, Persephone, Kore, Sally - as if he should just stop hoping, stop yearning.

He'll never leave this Pit - Alabaster, Grover, Clarisse, Paola, Annabeth, Rachel, Persephone, Kore, Sally - he'll die here. If not for the names that keep him going, Percy would just drop down. Stay there, become part of this forest of desolation.

Iapetus can't follow him into misery's lair. The titan has no need for death mist - he can take the direct path to the monsters that wait in the Doors.

So they part ways - Iapetus goes back through the Central Wasteland, and Perseus goes forward - into the Poison Meadows of Akhlys.

Perseus sees the goddess of misery - and thinks she looks the part. She and her shield - Hercules' shield - crying eternally.

She denies his request - but he taunts her. Is she just a minor goddess? Wouldn't she want the Tartarus to be filled with wails of the monsters, unable to go out for decades at a time?

Akhlys agreed - but Perseus wasn't sure. She was a little too eager - not something you want from a primordial goddess based on feelings. Elemental gods are so much easier.

And she was too poison-happy for Percy's liking. The way she smiled, fat tears and snot running down her face didn't impress him though: every time he looks around he sees this convoluted primordial of hell and was two minutes off snapping, so.

Rachel, Persephone, Kore, Sally.

Everything around him was wet and disgusting - like most of Tartarus. Maybe being the habitat for thousands of your children isn't the highest of body care.

They stopped near the void, the emptiness stretching beyond him as sure as nothing was above him. He could feel it pulling at his soul - did he even have a body? Or was he just smoke now?

Somehow, his metal leg clung onto him. His ax didn't fall from his hand, although he felt like the weight of the sky was again in his shoulders - he felt at the same time, eighty years older and as if he was nothing at all.

Death always clung at him - he was a spawn of Hades, a hellish being. Perseus always ran cold - and some people, the ones that thrived on life, couldn't get close to him without shivering. But this - this is what death felt like.

Not being dead - being dead can be either peaceful or eternal torment - this is the permanent state of death. Like he is just about to die, but there wouldn't ever be a release.

Persephone, Kore, Sally

Under him, there was Chaos and Nyx - the two primordials that formed the world. How many of those never leave this pit, never got their cults advanced, and were reborn in between the gods above?

Hecate, Nemesis, Eros, Eris, Morpheus, Hypnos, Geras, the Moirai, all of them, dwindling between the Olympians. Did they laugh at their stupid dominions over physical mattters - while they manipulated the world like puppeteers?

For how many times the arrows of love touched the immortals? How many decisions were made under the influence of dreams or vengeance? How many fates did the Fates decide in the strings of their tapestries?

Erebus - the eternal darkness. That is what is lurking above them. Perseus sneaks a lookup - and he can see curves of a person where should be nothing, the points of sharp teeth - it scares him far more than Tartarus.

Akhlys wants to kill him - Percy is not actually shocked. Everything in this Pit is trying. He tried to slash at her with his ax - but his ax was smoke, and Perseus has a very bad control over spirits, so it's to no surprise he was awful at controlling his own spiritual form.

Akhlys advances on him - and, conveniently, she can hurt him. He dodges as much as he can, but inevitably, she caught up to him.

She gives a swipe at his metal leg, her hands are around his neck - the goddess of misery is trying to suffocate him with her poisonous claws. Perseus hates suffocating.

"Stop... P-Please..."

Kore, Sally.

"Misery doesn't stop, misery is everything you'll ever know"

Perseus can't do much, but as he fights back, he feels it - in the bottom of his stomach, a pulling. The same pulling he uses to open the earth and to summon skeletons, coming from Akhlys.

Then, he touches her.

And Akhlys screams.

Perseus can feel the pulling, the way her immortal life is trying to stay in her body - but he pulls harder and harder.

"Please... Please stop."

She is aging under his eyes - he can take everything from her. Perseus is death - and life has touched him. He wants her to suffer. He wants to see how miserable Misery can be.

"Decay is inevitable, decay is everything you'll ever know."

Around him, the poisonous plants thrive, bloom to full beauty. Under him, Akhlys never dies - she shrivels, wailing as he begs him to stop.

But Perseus is death and life. Perseus is decay - he can take and take and take, and leave only an empty husk behind. He would never stop - he would destroy everything in his path, in this wasteland that he was sent to die by Fate.

Sally.

It's his mom's name that brings him back to reality. He jumps off the shriveled corpse-looking goddess and scrambles backward as she scampers away.

Perseus doesn't know how much time he passes there, in between the garden of poison, looking at his hands and shivering. He became what he feared the most: his touch is poison.

It's been many years, but Percy wants his sweaters and his gloves back. He wants to be covered, so no one will ever touch him again - he wants to cut his hands off. He is dangerous.

A deep, dark part of him wants to kill - what is the difference if he kills them by decay or with a stone spike? They would be dead either way.

Maybe he belongs here - he muses - maybe he became a monster, just like the ones he killed. Maybe he would just die and reform here, eventually.

Is he even a person anymore? With his metal leg and destructive skin - how much of him is god? Can he decide the fate of life - is this his heritage?

He hates himself, this situation, this life. The poisonous flowers flourish under his fingertips - and he wonders if he touches a daisy, it'll shrivel and die just like Akhlys.

But he traded a goddess for another, for who would appear other than Nyx. Perseus tricks her - says that he is making a map of Tartarus, for his father, but that she isn't really in the itinerary.

Nyx doesn't believe in his lie - she is a primordial goddess, not an imbecile. He calls her minor goddess, however, and that's enough to get her mad: hubris is a failing of most deities.

She gets mad, invokes her children to kill him - of which Perseus knows quite a few and would prefer if he didn't. So he starts talking - a way of stalling them - and promptly proceeds to try and make her tell him which one of them is the worst.

The children of Nyx - all with terrifying metaphysical dominions - start an enormous fight - which is enough for him to slip through with closed eyes - one is not supposed to look at the Mansion of Night.

He runs - and he feels them behind him. Their powers can't affect him - he is almost dead after all - but they are gods - stronger and quicker than him.

But Perseus prays and he runs, using the stone under him to propel his feet. He feels like he is running for years when he finally reaches the end of the hallway - finally on the margins of the Acheron.

The son of Hades hates water. But worse of all, he hates water that remembers him of his failures. Michael Yew, Silena, Charles, Ethan, Luke - his fault. Their blood is in his hands. He made Misery miserable - he should jump.

He doesn't. The Nyx cavalry wakes him up from this display of guilt and regret - it's a breakdown he had way too many times in Tartarus, and he is not doing this now.

Perseus uses a stone to propel himself over the River - his adrenaline making him soar through the air. He falls on the other side of the water - and doesn't break anything. He can't - he is made of smoke.

Bob - definitely Iapetus now - has his memories back. When they meet again, it's closer to the doors - who are being watched by glowing Hyperion and Krios - the titan Jason killed.

By the time they reach the Doors, all the Gigantes have returned to the mortal world - or at least, it's what Bob tells him. Even the giants they already killed - here they are again, making a mess.

Perseus tries to be sneaky - but there's no sneaky way to subtly destroy the chains that hold the Doors in hell. The monsters almost don't notice him.

But Tartarus centainly does.

And if he thought seeing Tartarus was bad - well, actually seeing him in his interim is way worse.

Tartarus has the skin he's been walking for who knows how long - slimy and greyish - with red eyes and a vacuum-like face - he seemed to suck the life out of them.

He attacks Perseus - calls him an intruder, tells him that he cannot freely walk him. Perseus wants to scream - He didn't want to be here either! This wasteland took his voice, his leg, his humanity. It took everything from him!

Unexpectedly, Damasen comes to his rescue, having tamed the Maeonian drakon. Bob uses his shovel to do the same - while Small Bob stays around Perseus' heels.

"It's your time to save the world, demigod. This is not the last sacrifice in the war you're raging against Gaea."

Percy enters the elevator. Bob stays to hold the button - he can't take him upside like they talked about. Damasen can't come - they'll die so Perseus can go save the world.

"Twelve minutes. Take Small Bob with you. Don't let them kill him - tell the stars I said hello."

So he starts going up. Perseus holds the Doors firmly shut as he looks at himself - a mechanical leg, a skeleton tiger in his ankles. He wonders if he'll make it upside. If part of him won't ever leave Tartarus - if when he dies, is there he'll appear.

The Elevator shakes - once, twice. Maybe he'll die here. Maybe it's better than what he is going to face when the doors open - it's definitely better than what he left behind.

He doesn't think about Bob and Damasen dying behind him, for him - he doesn't think about it at all.

The doors finally stop. He is not sure twelve minutes have passed - maybe it was less, maybe it was more. Perseus thinks this is it. He is not ever coming out. He walked the whole Tartarus, faced horrors far beyond any mortal ever had to, to now die because of doors.

Then he sees the light, and just let the doors go. Perseus takes one look at them - he can see at least two people and a giant - and takes one step out.

He breathes - ozone, oxygen, pure air - and then passes out, crushed under the sheer pain of life.

[firerose]

Angstpril day 28- The day her love died

also on ao3   

This is my last fic before I have to take a long writing break ( I have exams), So feedback would be very great :)

Hazel loved winning the war games. The Cohorts allies and enemies alike stood around her cheering and congratulating each other.

It made her happy to see them like this, so joyful after the giant war.

Dakota her Centurian colleague patted her back appreciatively.

“Good fighting out there Levesque.“, He complimented with pride in his voice.

Hazel could not suppress her smile.

Dakota was one of the Romans who took wargames a bit too seriously.

“ Thanks, you weren‘t bad either!“, She told him with a very stern tone.

Thomas rosewood, the Centurian of the first cohort walked up to them with a mocking grin.“You know you will never lose the wargames as long as Frank‘s Praetor right?“, He asked looking at Hazel with playful anger.

She felt her cheeks heating up.

She knew about the theories that the first and second cohort had made up to justify the many victories the fifth cohort won since they had started war games again. One of the popular ones was that they just lost because they did not want to hurt the Praetors girlfriend.“ My relationship with Frank has absolutely nothing to do with your fighting skills. Maybe Fortuna just isn‘t at your side for once.“, She explained reasonably.

Thoma‘s opened his mouths speechless at her words. He hadn‘t expected that she would use his godly mother against him.

Hazel felt satisfied and turned to look for her boyfriend.

Frank eyes wandered the crowd in search of Hazel. Reyna and Jason were busy with yet another talk about old times. Jason had come to Camp two days ago to talk about temple designs but he had most of the time just talked to his old friends especially Reyna.

He spotted Hazel walking towards him through the masses and quickened his steps.

He got slowed down a bit by all the people that wanted to talk to him but he did not mind.

Frank enjoyed giving them compliments or just having small talks with them.

That gave him the feeling that he was just another one of them and not one of their rulers. He suddenly felt a grasp on his arm.

When he turned his head he saw Alice a twelve-year-old shy member of the fifth cohort, smiling at him gratefully.“Thanks for training Praetor Zhang. It was a great help.“ She said softly and Frank felt moved.

“No problem and I already told you that you can call me Frank.“, He responded hoping that all of the younger demigods would learn that someday.

Alice wrapped one arm around him and leaned onto his chest but Frank did not complain. He had a soft spot for new Campers especially the ones who came with little confidence, like Alice.

“I‘m sorry it‘s just that you did so many impressing things! You are a great Praetor!“.Alice whispered and Frank felt thankfulness washing over him.“Sadly your Praetorship ends here.“, She told him with the same sweet voice.

Frank had barely time to process her words when he felt a sharp pain stabbing right into his chest.

He gasped in pain, his hand grasping the shaft of the dagger that had been pushed into his heart. Alice still held it with her small hand. He tried to back away, tried to breathe but all his body allowed was pain. He already felt his world fading and so his eyes met Hazels one last time. He did not want to leave her so soon. He had imagined a long happy life with her but as always fate was cruel.

The last thing he registered before darkness overtook him was Alice ripping out the dagger and Hazel screaming.

Hazel saw Frank fall, she saw the bloodred dagger in Alice's hand and yet she still did not want to believe it.

Alice had been her friend, almost like a little sister. She had come to Hazel with her doubts and Hazel had always cheered her up.

This girl could not have killed Frank, she could never hurt a fly.

There were shocked gasps around her as her friends had noticed what had happened.

“Nooo!“, Reyna yelled in fury and stormed towards Alice her weapon raised and Jason close behind her his blue eyes as hard as hers. Dozens of others followed their example and a terrible suspicion hit Hazel. What if this girl hadn‘t been who she claimed she was. What if this all had been a trick and the others had figured it out?

She looked at Frank‘s motionless body on the ground and the pain in her heart quickly turned to anger.

Whoever this girl was she was going to pay.

Hazel yelled out her despair and started running, ready to impale her boyfriends killer with her sword. Alice simply smiled at her attackers and with a wave of her hand they were all thrown back, crashing down on the hard ground.

The demigods who hadn‘t attacked stepped back in horror as they started to realize that the monster maybe was more than they could handle.

Hazel‘s whole body ached from the impact and when she tried to face her enemy again, a blinding white light forced her to close her eyes.

When she opened them again her mouth opened in horror. A woman had replaced Alice, a woman that Hazel knew and that she had hoped to never see again.

She had golden hair that was braided in an ancient Greek style, her black robes mirrored her dark eyes that were full of hate.

No, she could not be here, was trapped in her maze, she could not be here.

“Pasiphae?“, Hazel asked her voice trembling in fear as she, rose to her feet. Jason who got up next to her gave her a shocked glance.

“ Of course my dear you. Did you think I would stay in that hole you threw me in?“, The sorceress mocked amused.

Hazel felt tears forming in her eyes.

Yes, she had thought that had trapped Pasiphae forever, that she had kept her from harming anyone. She had wanted a peaceful life so much that she had not focussed on potential threats.

Now Frank had paid the price for her weakness, for her naivety.“You should have stayed there. I will send you back to the fields of punishment for what you did! Frank was a good, kind person and you murdered him like a coward!“, Reyna spat but Hazel stood close enough to see the girls shimmering eyes.

She had loved Frank too, not like a partner but like a brother.

Her words were meant for Pasiphae but Hazel felt them burning into her heart.

Frank had been a good person, that was why she had fallen in love with him and now he was gone. He would never kiss her again, would never smile at her again.

Her gaze wandered to him. His face was turned away from her and she felt the urge to turn him just to see his soft brown eyes.

Pasiphae gave Reyna a pitiful look.“ Don‘t be foolish. I‘m the most powerful with who walked this earth and you are just a pathetic child of a minor goddess.“, She tuned to Hazel the sadism in her eyes making Hazel‘s gut fill with dread,

“But murdering your sweet boyfriend was not that satisfying to me my dear. I have many cruel spells mind if I try them on your friend?“, She asked and her hand went up in flames.

Some of the Campers screamed, the younger ones clinging onto the older ones.

Hazel felt guilt as she saw them. Pasiphae was only here because of her, if any of them got hurt it was her fault.

“You will not hurt any of them !“, Hazel demanded as loud as she could. Pasiphae did not seem intimidated by her.“Well then have a good night daughter of Pluto. I will enjoy watching you suffer.“, Pasiphae mused and then disappeared in a blast of hot white flames.

The Campers were in too much shock to move but Hazel took her chance. She ran to Franks side and kneeled next to him. Her hands were shaking as she gently touched him. He was still warm, maybe just maybe there was still a chance.

“ Frank?“, She asked softly a part of her told her that it was pointless, that he was dead but the denial was a strong emotion.

She gripped his shoulders and turned him around so she could see his face. She was hoping for closed eyes, for a sign of his shallow breath.

Instead, she was greeted with two cold eyes whose light had died already.

Hazel flinched as if someone had hit her and that was how she felt.

“No…..No please…no.“ She muttered over and over again her throat filling with sobs.

She couldn‘t lose him. She had only known him for six months, they deserved more time.

„Come back to me Frank please come back.“, She pleaded and tears fell onto his face as she leaned over him. He did not react, of course, he only stared at her and the eyes that she had loved so much already haunted her.

“You can‘t die like this! After everything we went through…please you can‘t…….“ Hazel begged her sobs finally breaking out of her. She collapsed over Frank‘s body, corpse and buried her face into his chest like that would close the bloodied stab wound.

She suddenly felt arms wrapping around her and even though they were gentle she felt panic rising in her.

“NO, LET ME GO!“ She yelled as she was gently pulled away.

She pressed her lips on Frank‘s, a last desperate attempt to feel his warmth again but again there was nothing only darkness and she felt the dark rising inside her as well.

“It‘s okay Hazel I‘m here … it‘s okay.“, Jason told her softly while he slowly leaned her onto his chest for comfort. Reyna and Dakota joined him sitting down to tell Hazel soft words that they knew were not working.

Hazel did not resist anymore, she was too weak. She let herself sink against Jason closing her eyes to block out the cruel reality that she now lived in. Her heart was broken and in between all her grief, the sweetness that so many people loved was washed away by a deep hatred.

No one noticed that change until Hazel opened her eyes opened again hours later.

They looked empty, dead just like Frank‘s like he had taken Hazel‘s light to the underworld.

Dakota searched them for the sarcastic girl had joked with only hours ago but the longer he searched the more he realized that she was dead.

Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang both had lost their lives that night and when Hazel finally spoke again her tone was hard and her words were a desire for revenge.

"I will find Pasiphae and I will kill her.“

@chaos-company @qperseusjackson-jasongrace @emilydaughterofapollo @fictionalnormalcy

[fullsunalicia]

i found you by chance, read your entire masterlist in one sitting and i've been smitten with your writing ever since!🥺 may i request a doyoung installment of your demigod series if you don't mind? they're just so lovely🥺 stay safe and healthy❣

archnemesis — KDY

doyoung and you have been at each other’s throat for more years than you can count. the constant bickering and his know-it-all behavior makes you want to burst from anger, but maybe the tension can be released ... otherwise.

son of athena!doyoung x daughter of poseidon!reader

oh bubs! i’m smitten with you too, thank you for being so kind! i hope you stay healthy, too - have you eaten yet? if not, go eat rn! stay healthy and take care of yourself <3 now, enjoy some demigod doyoung!

The stories speak of fated lovers. What they didn’t mention was that you were also able to inherit the hate towards another demigod just because their godly parent is a bitch towards yours.

Though, that isn’t the only reason you despise Kim Doyoung.

The man was born to get on your nerves. No matter what, you guys made it a competition to be better than the other. Grades, reputation,... You name it, you’ve fought about it. All of that is heightened because of that dispute from aeons ago, where Athens fell into Athena’s hands just because she planted some stupid olive tree.

Yes, you and your father are still salty about that.

You are never ever going to like Kim Doyoung.

❀ ❀ ❀

“I hate this university so much,” you cuss as you wrap your bath robe tighter and hide behind Taeyong. He’s not exactly broad enough to cover you, but you’d still like to maintain atleast a little bit of your dignity. You’re already annoyed - the loud alarm blaring doesn’t make it any better.

Taeyong intertwines your hands and pulls you along. The halls are filled with people who are as enraged as you, but also lots of people who are too stoned to care. Some look neutral. Some laugh at you, the girl who was in the middle of showering when the fire alarm went off. “Would you rather burn?” Taeyong sighs, eyes fixed on the exit. Neither of you thought about bringing a jacket, and you both dread the snowy weather that’s waiting outside.

Well, it’s going to be worse for you. Sopping wet from head to toe, you’re leaving behind the path back to your dorm with pools of water. It’s running down your back and clings to your cheeks, frozen there the second Taeyong and you step out.

You’d rather die than look anyone in the eye right now.

The problem is that this university is filled with mortals. No matter how many of them had the sight, you weren’t allowed to use your powers in public. You’re unable to wring yourself out, making you fall victim to the freezing wind blowing iceflowers on your wet skin.

Someone behind you snorts rather loudly. “You should’ve stayed in the dorm, idiot.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard, or what you imagine would it feel like if you had glass shards stuck in your ear. Doyoung bows over your shoulder to smirk at you, unfazed by your harsh push. He stumbles, but sadly doesn’t fall.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart, you stupid know-it-all?” you hiss at him. Doyoung is wrapped in a thick coat, protected from the snow falling from the skies as the temperature drops lower and lower. Truth be told, he’s very handsome. You can’t deny that. It’s his personality that ruins it all.

A long time ago, long before you entered college, you and Doyoung had been in the same class in highschool. Your relationship back then had been a little bit better than now, but the hate had taken root there. His arrogance. The glance in his eyes that made you think he was looking down on you.

Doyoung is his mother’s pride and joy, the poster child. The sharp tongue. Emotionless eyes, aside from that slither of smugness. He’s perfect. And that’s what annoys the hell out of you.

He is born to bow before the rules. You live to break them. You aren’t meant to be contained or held down by something as stupid as that. The ocean waves live in your veins and empower you. Free as the flowing water, and just as harsh. The problem with Doyoung and you is that you’re just like your parents. Where he is careful, you are ignorant. Doyoung thinks about his actions, you rush into it headfirst.

Both of you are the spark to set ablaze the other’s fury. It made the lifes of your poor friends a nightmare, especially when you’re drunk and loose-lipped, and the only thing Doyoung has to say about that is: “Just as disappointing as her father.”

Because of that, he ended up with a busted lip once or twice.

“That’s why I told you to stay inside. It would’ve saved you the lung infection you’re about to catch. I suppose your singular braincell can’t get that.”

You don’t react to his jab. It’s too cold for that, and your teeth are chattering too much to deliver a harsh comment anyways. Taeyong beside you is quiet, offering you his arm as you wrap your own around it and roll your eyes. “I would’ve been written up, you asshole,” you mumble. With that, you bury your face in Taeyong’s side. You wish you were in your warm room. Surrounded by the scent of the ocean breeze, and the soft music that’s heard through the walls whenever Taeyong practices. It’s friday, for god’s sake.

Someone drapes a jacket over you. Disoriented, you raise your head to scold Taeyong - he can’t give you his jacket, if he gets sick he’s going to miss his competition... But it’s not Taeyong’s. His eyes are wide and shocked.

You turn back around to check for the annoying smartass, but he’s already walking away from you towards his friends.

Jacketless.

❀ ❀ ❀

You don’t see Doyoung for days after. Normally, you’d be glad to be free of his annoying existence. After that move in the snow, you’re not entirely sure if you never want to see him again, or pin him against a wall to question him.

There was no reason for him to be ... “kind”. If Kim Doyoung is even able to do that. Why would he? He enjoys your suffering as much as you enjoy his. On any other day, he would’ve left you to freeze to death. So what possessed him to do that?

The sound of water crashing on the shore snaps you out of your thoughts. You don’t particularly enjoy skinny dipping, but once in a while, you like to just sit down in the water and listen to the ocean’s stories. The waves whisper, heard only by those who are willing and able to listen. They don’t speak any language of the world, but you still understand them - the sound of the hidden world beneath the waterline, deep in the waters, never to be explored by someone who doesn’t belong there. Both death and life are found in the middle of the ocean’s treasures - corals, sirens, those who’s ships crash against the jagged stone and sink to the ground, never to be seen again. The secret of a naiad. The first cry of a mermaid. Two boats passing in the night.

You hear it all. You know it all. As a princess of the waves, the key to all those locks is in your heart, given to you by your father. The water will always bend to your will. The earth shakes below your feet to support your anger and release it. You are (y/n), daughter of Poseidon. You are as unraveling and uncontrollable as the freshwater rivers, mysterious like the depths of the sea. Your crown is made of salt and sapphire, not metal that will rust.

Being close to your father’s realm makes you calm. It’s like returning home after a long day, the warmth of the water like a blanket around your body. Thankfully, you’re not soaked or drenched. You will never be prisoner of the sea.

You want to know what goes in Doyoung’s head. Rarely is he ever helpful towards you. There was a time in highschool where you had thought you could put your differences aside, but it’s just not possible. Doyoung is married to his pride and his pride alone, cloaking himself in it so nobody gets close. He’s intelligent and cunning. There is no reason for him to tip his hand and aid you, when all he ever does is make life hard for you.

But once in a blue moon, Doyoung’s eyes are as calm as the ocean at night. No bitterness, no snarled arguments. It’s just him, focussed on the task at hand, quiet and in his own world. He reminds you of the mermaids then, who watch over the sea to save the drowning ships. He’s not malicious. He’s just a man with his own goals.

Waiting for you on the shore are your belongings, and a jacket that was never yours. It’s time you return it.

❀ ❀ ❀

Doyoung looks unfazed when you hand him back the jacket. You clear your throat, embarrassed. How the hell do you force yourself to be kind to the rival you’ve been terrorising for several years now? “Uhm, thanks, I guess,” you mumble and turn away to leave.

You’re not ready to throw away all of your habits yet.

The choice is taken out of your hands when Doyoung tugs you back. His grip isn’t firm, just kind of clinical. Touching you only for the sake that you’d know he didn’t want the conversation to end. It makes you uneasy. The two of you aren’t supposed to converse so calmly. At this point, Doyoung should be digging his claws inside of you like an angry cat, hooked deep inside you and leave you to rot. Spark the fighting spirit in you. The part of you that creates destructive hurricanes and deadly whirlpools.

But his eyes are unfathomable. “You’re not sick, are you? We were staying outside for a pretty long time. I didn’t see you get back inside.”

You want to hiss at him - what’s it to you? - but the sound is lodged in your throat. There was no mean undertone, no teasing lilt. Just ... curiosity.

You shake your head. Your voice hadn’t returned yet; you’re waiting for the situation to explode, for the hatred to return to his eyes. Shouldn’t you force his hand away? What is wrong with you?

Doyoung drops his hand. For once in your life, you desperately wish to be able to look into his head. To read that brilliant mind that forges thousands of strategies, aware of every possibility given. No matter how much you dislike him, there’s no point denying the utter intelligence this man possesses. He’s clever, with the consuming wish to know anything and everything. You look into his eyes, but there’s nothing - Doyoung is smart enough not to let anything show. He’s not like you. Still waters run deep.

Doyoung feels like the lowest point of the ocean. All the secrets buried there. The knowledge that would never reach another’s eyes. Mysterious. Dangerous.

Fingertips brush your hand. Maybe you imagined it. You don’t know if believing your senses, is the correct decision to take right now. Doyoung’s eyes shape emotion again, the silent caution of someone who didn’t want to overstep boundaries. But he never does that with you. Why would he now? “Keep to warm drinks,” he says, not an order, but advice. He folds his jacket in his hands. Have his eyes always looked like those of an owl? Or is that just an exaggeration on your part, because his mother is often connected with that animal? “Stretch if you have to. It would be unwise for you to catch a cold during exam season.”

With that, Doyoung steps inside and closes the door, to both you and the unknown world you had just been unwillingly dragged in. The one where children of Athena and Poseidon didn’t jump at each others throat because they breathe the same air.

The one where you feel like you’re in highschool again, wondering if Doyoung and you can be something entirely different than an archnemesis to the other.

❀ ❀ ❀

You’re not childish. You’re really not.

But maybe this situation is just too much temptation. Sprawled across several books, Doyoung rests his head on his arms and is deep in slumber. His black hair is curled, weirdly, a strange sight to behold. It’s not like he’s very stylish. It must be his friends’ influence. He almost looks pretty. You’re not childish, but there’s just something so funny about grabbing a pen and ruining Doyoung’s stunning features.

Your friends roll their eyes at you as you silently step closer to Doyoung. They want nothing to do with your shenanigans, and they’re honestly too tired to stop another brawl. The entire day had been spent studying, since final exams are drawing close and everyone feels like dying from the stress. It seems like not even a child of Athena is excluded from that. Doyoung’s brows are furrowed, even in his sleep. Shoulders tense, his hands forming fists before relaxing again - he doesn’t even let himself rest while he’s off to dreamland. Though this shouldn’t suprise you. Doyoung always flings himself into unreasonable amounts of work, no matter how much his health deteriorates because of that.

Despite hating him, you know a lot about the man who looks more bunny than human. In the many years of rivalry, you picked up a fact or two about him. His memorization skills, for example. You always hated how he was never plagued by blackouts during exams, while you suffered from panic in the few classes you struggled in. He always triumphed over you with a few points just because of that. Another thing is his fear from animals. You once used your powers on him, young and reckless, exceptionally blind to the threat that you could pose to him as a ruler child, daughter of one of the big three in Olympus. He hadn’t flinched from being caged underwater. The second Doyoung sees a large dog though, he’s as far away from the scene as possible.

It’s a very rare occasion, but you’ve also seen Doyoung cry before. In middle school, alone on a bench, surrounded by parents accompanying their children to school. Athena is sworn to chastity. That means that her children aren’t conceived - they’re living, breathing ideas, born in the same strange way their mother was. In the mortal world, they were known as ‘adopted’. And because Athena didn’t give away her virginity to have Doyoung, it means there’s no father in the picture. It’s just him and his big brother. On that day, he had cried because he was fully aware he was alone. You saw it in the way he clutched his books tight; knowledge ties him to his mother, earns him appreciation. No olympian parent would ever be there for their child all of the time. They are gods, bound to the nightsky. They exist to rule over the world and keep the balance. They are the fear instilled in you as tsunamis wreck entire cities. They are the wonder and awe in your eyes at the sight of purple thunderstorms darken blue skies, clawing it open with white lightning. They’re not here to play mommy and daddy.

That day was the only day in your life where you had willingly sat down next to Doyoung and held his hand until he calmed down. You sat there for a long time, clinging to each other, before you promised to never speak to anyone about this ever. Now came the second time where you slid into the seat next to him without being forced.

Doyoung is deep in slumber. Not a single reaction is coaxed out of him as you poke his cheek, and then pinch it. His lashes are really long; the thought fills you with envy. How come every single boy you know has nicer lasher than you?

With a sigh, you put a hand to his shoulder and shake him gently. He’s warm below your touch. Doyoung doesn’t rouse. “Hey,” you say, though it’s not loud. You’re still in a library. Then: “Hey, Doyoung.”

Your idea of drawing on his face is long forgotten when his eyelids finally flutter open. He looks unbelievably tired. Like a zombie, his gaze is dazed as he lets it wander over his surroundings, before finally settling on you. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the evil side eye. You think he’s too exhausted to actually do that now. You shift in your seat. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

The man drowsily reaches for his phone to check the time. Out of instinct, he narrows his eyes because of the bright light, and you fight back a snicker before he can glare at you. “This morning,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his melodious voice.

“Doyoung, it’s 9pm.”

“Your point?”

You sigh. You’d rather not do this right now. But you also can’t will yourself to stand up and leave, when he looks so ... wrecked. You want to help. “C’mon,” you murmur. “Grab your stuff, let’s get you some ramen. My treat.”

Doyoung looks at you like you’ve grown another head. Impatiently, you start drumming your fingers on the table. Is he always this ungrateful?

Nonetheless, he gathers his stuff, and you help him stuff the heavy books into his bagpack. Maybe you’re possessed. Yeah, maybe. That’s the only explanation you can muster for your behavior right now. But that still doesn’t explain why Doyoung had been kind to you after the fire alarm. Perhaps whatever possessed you had possessed him first?

You always knew those water spirits were real. Your father is a damn liar.

Doyoung lets himself be tugged out of the library by you, his body still heavy from the slumberparty he threw for himself while studying. The feeling of his fingers between yours doesn’t feel so bad. So what? You’re holding his hand because you hate him that much.. You’re just treating him like a child because he can’t walk alone, that’s all...

Neither of you let go once.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Are you hiding shit from me?”

Confused, you look out of your room to meet Taeyong’s gaze, who’s only halfway stepped out of his own to address you. A smirk is painted on his beautiful face, rather unusual for someone as kind as Lee Taeyong. You only see that kind of expression on his face when he’s punching someone in the face, or dancing in a competition. Son of Ares and all. That anger is fuel to a whole lot of good things in his life, not only fights. (Though not even Taeyong can resist the urge that was passed on to him by his father. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up when he lands a particularly good uppercut.)

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” You return to your messy room. Exams are finally over, and it looks like a bomb exploded inside your sleeping chambers as you’ve been busy studying in the past few weeks. You never even thought about tidying up because you were so concentrated on cramming a semester’s worth of information inside your head. This degree in marine biology wasn’t going to earn itself. Now, several weeks later, you finally had the time and right headspace to get your room back to its’ usual outlook.

It rustles in the room beside you. Taeyong is rearranging his furniture. “Are you out of your mind, or why are you on good terms with Kim Doyoung? I don’t like seeing you guys get along. It honestly scares me. It feels like there’s some kind of dubious peace treaty going on and it’s going to explode in my face when I get accostumed to it.”

Oh. A pink blush settles on your face as you slam your drawers shut, the embarrassment pooling in your stomach. You’ve never been good at hiding things from your best friend; Taeyong knew you too well. “I don’t know,” you tell him. Something in his room falls over. “I guess we just stopped after he lent me his jacket. Though I must admit it’s getting pretty weird. This is a betrayal to myself.”

“Are you joking? I was tired of getting in the middle of your brawls all the time.”

“Don’t lie!” You throw a book against the wall that borders to Taeyong’s room. He giggles, fully aware that he was caught lying red-handed. “I know how much you enjoyed playfighting with that dumbass. You were only disappointed that it was denying you of a real fight. You damn Ares children and your knack to fuck shit up.”

“Hey, blame it on the genes.” He wanders in your room without knocking. Taeyong isn’t very cuddly, but for once, he’s the one initiating the skinship. He hugs you tightly, thin frame fitting around yours to press you against his body. “I’m glad,” he mumbles, voice wiped clean of its’ joking tone. “Seriously. You’re not your parents. There’s no reason to not get along. If I can do it with him, why can’t you?”

Maybe what you have with Doyoung is a little different to what Taeyong and Doyoung have. But Taeyong doesn’t need to know that. And especially not Doyoung. It’s a wellkept secret that has been blooming inside you since you watched him slurp up some cup ramen, the gratitude in his eyes waking something up in your heart.

After that, he had never once looked down on you. No disrespect. No provoking comments. Only mindless chatter, and the occasional stare you caught the other doing once in a while.

[07:25pm] k. doyoung: meet me at the quad

Taeyong snickers as he reads the message over your shoulder. “So you’ve been hiding something from me,” he accuses you, and you realize that your secret isn’t as wellkept as you thought. You want to argue, but Taeyong shuts you up with a wink and leaves the room. Hmph. You return your attention to your phone.

[07:26pm] (y/n): be there in a minute.

Maybe your room can wait.

The walk from the dorm to the quad isn’t far, maybe a five-minute-walk if you weren’t rushing. It’s a little early in the evening, but still really cold, which is why you wrap your jacket around yourself tighter and pick up speed. Doyoung is waiting for you patiently, hands buried deep into his pockets.

You still have to get accostumed to the sight of him smiling at you. And to holding his arm willingly. And the wish to stand on your tippy toes and kiss him...

“Why’d you call me?”

Doyoung starts walking. Even though you already wrapped your arm around his, he uncoils them so he can interlock your fingers and stuff them into his jacket pocket. “I thought about something,” he drawls out. As always, he cloaks his voice to not expose his true feelings. Another Athena habit. You wonder if he’s even aware of it. “This rivalry thing is getting kinda old, don’t you think?”

“Are you finally admitting defeat?” You grip his fingers tighter. They’re warm in yours, and the laugh you manage to coax out of him makes you feel light. “I knew if I just continued fighting bravely, I’d win. This is for Athens, wise boy.”

Doyoung holds you closer. He seems really undecisive with what he wants to do: despite him already changing the positon of your hands, he lets go to wrap an arm around your waist and pin you against his side. The second he lowers his head to lean his forehead against yours, you feel dizzy. “Never, seaweed brain. I was actually thinking something entirely different...”

You feel breathless. “What exactly?”

“How about I show you?”

Doyoung’s lips feel as soft as they look like; his kiss feels like a caress, so sensual and loving you could do this for hours. Your hands find his hair, tugging slightly to get him closer. You even tug an appreciative, very quiet moan out of him by doing that. When he finally leans way, your lips are swollen, his are forming a grin. He’s awfully smug. Though, you guess he has every right to after making your heart pound as quickly as the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.

His gaze is self-satisfied, but also full of adoration. Longing. The same gaze he sometimes has after reading a particularly good book. The taste of his favorite cake. Who knew enemies made such good lovers...

“So?” Doyoung cradles your face in his hands, fingers moving to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. Careful, like you were porcelain. Expensive. Precious to him. “Do you agree with me or what?”

“I think I need to be shown again.”

He doesn’t stop you from getting a second taste.

[kneesheee]

love and life

Day Two: WhiteLantern!Kyle | Young Justice Verse

Since becoming a White Lantern, Kyle had been blessed with all kind of powers. Unlike most lanterns, he didn’t learn how to use their ring powers from their respective corps. He was surrounded by the personification of the emotions themselves.

He was more than the White Lantern.

He was the son of Love.

[And man, it had been a trip to tell the Star Sapphires that they were using their rings wrong. Of course, some of the more traditional users had been offended that a man was telling them what to do.]

But there was one thing that he never expected being both.

With the ring amplify the powers he was born with [and made him question continuously why he wasn’t given a sapphire ring to begin with], he could feel all the love in the air on Olympus. He nearly drove him crazy. He didn’t understand how his mother and brother and every other entity of love could put up with it.

Just being around the High-King and Queen was enough to drive him insane.

And that didn’t mention all the love the parents had for their children or the children had for their siblings.

When that happened, he usually tended to hide away in his Uncle’s temple. But Apollon had his days where his grief and love for his son seemed to overpower everything else. The sun seemed to shine brighter and dimmed lighter in response.

Kyle made it his business to keep away during those times. He either shot off back into space or he went somewhere were the sun did not shine.

Like right now, he was flying over Gotham at night.

Which was wonderful because he could still feel the aftershocks of Apollo’s grief.

His ring pinged, “Lifeform detected.”

Yeah, no shit. He was in a city filled with people.

“Lifeform detected. Begin resurrection in 5.”

What.

A small beacon of light escape from his ring that Kyle followed desperately. It led him to Gotham’s cemetery. Looking around, Kyle didn’t see what was so special at first until he caught sight of the two men standing near a set of graves.

Just from the feeling of them, he knew that they were deities.

What stood out the most was that the two of them were standing near the grave that his ring’s light was siphoning into. He really hoped he wasn’t bringing about the zombie apocalypse. He’s pretty sure that King Hades and Lord Thanatos would kill him.

Squaring his shoulders, Kyle made his way over to the two deities.

They turned once he got close enough and Kyle blanched when he realized the two were the aforementioned gods. He quickly moved to drop into a bow before a hand stops him.

“Good. You’re here,” Uncle Hades stated. He turned his head back to the grave. “We’ve been trying to figure out a decent way to revive this soul. His fate has taken a turn. He was never meant to die.”

Kyle’s smart response: “Uhhh.”

Thanatos nods his head a little irritated. He wasn’t in the business of granting life back to the dead, but he was making an exception. “We leave him in your care.”

“Resurrection: 75% complete.”

Kyle jumped before gazing back down at the grave.

Here lies

Jason Todd

Two gods grappling in the air flashes of black and gold. A steak of silver and green wrapping around the golden god pulling him an away.

August 16th XXXX- April 27th XXXX

“Tell me, Kyle. What is your opinion of death?”

A loving son and a loving brother.

Cries of grief and rage. The harsh bearing of the sun. Asclepius had to be kept under watch. Apollo wouldn’t leave his temple. It was turning out to be close to Demeter & Persephone.

There was a small scripture in Greek that lined the tombstone.

May the gods be with you.

Olympus had always been beautiful. Even in its grief, there was beauty. Kyle felt stronger and weaker just being around it.

“Resurrection: 100% complete.”

Kyle realized three things.

One) He was alone in the graveyard.

Two) It had begun pouring down raining.

Three) The ground in front of him was collapsing inwards.

He stepped back letting the power of his ring surround him before a body appeared from the ground. Kyle squeaked.

[Absently, Kyle noticed how attractive the boy was. The reddish brown curls that reminded him of Olympian sunsets. The freckles on his cheeks that reminded him of the stars. The tanned skin that so beautifully bronzed.]

“Dad? Bruce? Apol—”

Oh, now that just broke Kyle’s heart. He was calling for his fathers. Kyle reached out to grab the boy when suddenly he was pulled down to the ground. He got a face filled with mud before the body was flipping over him.

What. The. Fuck?

When he wiped the mud from his face and turned around, the zombie was stumbling away.

“Ring, give me a vital scan.”

Bright white light engulfed the boy as it took in his vitals.

“Scan completed. Brain damaged. Four broken ribs. Twisted ankle. Nerve damage to fingernails. Oxygen is slowly going to the brain. Healing factor is suspended.”

Fuck.

Kyle flew towards the undead boy before having to dodge a fist and a kick. The two danced around each other as the boy dodged the blasts of white that were trying to get him to stay still so he could heal.

“Jason! Stop! Please!”

But it didn’t seem like the boy could hear him anymore before he jumped directly at Kyle. The White Lantern jerked back.

For a dead guy, he sure knew how to throw a punch.

The boy disappeared into the night while Kyle took the skies to search for him. Metas were technically not allowed in Gotham. But Kyle was here on godly business and therefore not a meta. And besides, he would be doing Bruce a favor if he could find his adopted son. But still, he didn’t have time to argue the technicalities with the man and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for his family to kill the human. He bended the light around him until he was invisible.

“Ring, start tracking.”

Bright white footsteps caught his attention. When he flew down to look, he noticed the muddy prints across the ground. They led him throw alleyway and holes in the walls. Past prostitute which given his mother was the patron of prostitutes… he waved his power over them giving them just a little bit more warmth and protection from the cold. There was also a blessing that whatever they made that night would be double the amount than usual.

Kyle stood in disbelief as he watched zombie boy fighting off a group of attackers before he seemed to sense him. The other demigod stood stock-still before seemingly look directly at Kyle with his blank gaze and taking off again.

It was going to be a long night.

[rioneu]

⟨ RYAN POTTER. CIS MALE. HE/HIM. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, ORION “RION” SHIRO is actually a descendent of A R E S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-FOUR year old PSYCHOLOGY / CRIMINOLOGY MAJOR from SAPPORO, JAPAN has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite SHREWD & FOOLHARDY.

— BASICS:

Full Name: shiro orion

Nicknames: rion

Place of Birth: sapporo, japan

Date of Birth: february 29, 1996

Zodiac: pisces

Gender: cis male

Sexual Orientation: biromantic bisexual

Religion: atheist

Major: psychology/criminology

Courses: combat tactics 2, weapon forging 1, telumkinesis

— FAMILY:

Biological Mother: shiro aiko

Biological Father: ares

Step-Father: okado kenji

Siblings: okado miya (half-sister)

— HISTORY:

There had never been a time in Aiko Shiro’s life where she was able to rein her child in. Despite always being told to be polite, to mind his manners, Rion was always very casually cruel. As a five year old, he purposely instigated a fight with another kid so he could punch him with a surprising amount of strength for a child so young. He never stayed in a school for very long, always pulled to avoid conflict with another child or getting expelled after a conflict had arisen. He’d always taken a little too much pleasure out of seeing other’s bleed.

By the time he hit junior high, he’d seen the inside of nine schools and his mother made damn sure he knew there wouldn’t be a tenth. It was a standing threat that if he got in trouble one more time, he’d end up in America, in a military school, where they would absolutely not tolerate his attitude and his violent tendencies. At the very least, they could teach him to redirect the energy into something more worth while. 

The fragile peace between them, with Rion putting all of his effort into not getting shipped into the wasteland that was the United States only lasted until he was thirteen. Everything converged on one day. Rion got into his first real fight, where the other person fought back, but didn’t do any real damage. Ares claimed him that day, shortly after he had been pulled off the other kid, with his face a bloody, bruised mess. And that very same day, when he’d gotten home with his knuckles split and bloody and blood that wasn’t his own smeared on his face, his mother and her fiance (who Rion barely tolerated as a whole) announced that she was pregnant. 

Rion did not take it well. There were things broken, people were threatened and blood was drawn. The only reason he didn’t kill his soon-to-be step-father there and then was because his mother said not to. It’s one of the few times he’s listened to her and it wasn’t out of respect, and especially not out of love. The last thing he wanted was to get sent off to America. When he told his mother he knew about who his father actually was, it was to quiet shock. He got no response, so instead, he made his final statement known by slamming the door as he left. Of course, he was back the next day, because he was only thirteen, but the house never returned to the way it was before. 

Rion only stayed in school until he no longer had to and dropped out when he finished his junior high education. He’s only ever tolerated his family, but he has a true love for his little sister. She clung to him the moment she was born and despite everyone’s underlying fear that he would hurt her, he absolutely adored her. She’s the only person he’s ever been remotely gentle with. 

A trail of bodies followed him from his hometown to Eonia and he only went after he got attacked by something that wasn’t human. He cared little for his own life and happily satisfied his bloodlust by killing people who he deemed weren’t good for the planet, but a monster attacking his home at nineteen surely meant that they would find his sister eventually. He only left so she would be safe and he spent time wandering from place to place until he was twenty-two and landed at Eonia.

— PERSONALITY:

Rion is an acquired taste of a person. He’s not the nicest of people, but he’s very loyal to the few he trusts. Once he considers someone his friend, he would die for them. If they ever betray them, it’s often the last thing they’ll ever do. He’s got a sadistic streak a mile wide and takes pleasure out of hurting others. Some would be inclined to think it’s a cover up for someone who was hurt during their childhood but he’s genuinely just a bad person. He’ll occasionally toy with people for fun without any intent of causing harm but often as he lets them go, he’ll change his mind, just to get a mark on them.

— POWERS:

SONIC SCREAM  — It isn’t a power he utilizes often, because it doesn’t always leave him in the best shape. When he first used the power during his years at secondary school, he passed out in an alley after class because it absolutely destroyed him. As he’s gotten older, he’s learned how to devote less energy to it while keeping it just as powerful. There is no setting on it, he only does it to severely cause pain, he has not cared enough to learn how to change the level of pain.

TELUMKINESIS  — In the wrong hands, anything can be a weapon but for Rion, he can make anything a weapon. When he first manifested the power, he had been at the store picking up staples for his home at the age of fifteen and there was almost a robbery at the store. The staples had turned themselves into a knife, very small but just as capable a weapon. It’s his second favorite of the powers and he practices his ability to control weapons at every opportunity.

ODIKINESIS  — He’s never been the nicest of people. During his youth, he would get a lot of looks for his rudeness or impoliteness, but he’s never seen much use for it, despite his mother drilling it into his head. When he got angry as a kid, everyone around him did and he would end up satisfied seeing the chaos he caused, even if his control over the rage and hate didn’t last much longer than his own anger did. As he grew older and worked on developing his power, the ability to manipulate the emotions wasn’t strictly tied to his own and he was able to make it last longer and more intensely.

— MISCELLANEOUS: 

His mother named him after Orion because he was a fierce hunter.

He gets a sick sense of satisfaction causing chaos and occasionally hurting people. 

When sparring with people, he’ll often place curses on their weapons and say it was fair game. 

He has killed people. Refuses to give a solid answer as to how many. He has gotten away with all but one. 

He leaves scars on people he’s toyed with in the past, usually somewhere they can see it. He doesn’t remember who they are, but this way he knows who he hasn’t tormented yet.

Ares claimed him after his first fight in junior high, when he had mercilessly injured his classmate and had to be pulled off him before the guy ended up in the hospital. 

He will eat anything. Literally. Even the grossest concoction. Candy that went through the washer or drier. Anything even vaguely edible. 

The first person he killed was when he was seventeen and someone looked at Miya the wrong way. He killed him with no hesitations. He was sentenced to probation until he was twenty and he ran out on it when a monster attacked him.

People are probably still looking for him for skipping out on probation. He does not care.

He majors in psychology to look for weaknesses in his enemies and to figure out what makes them tick. He majors in criminology to learn about what common mistakes he should avoid making. 

— WANTED CONNECTIONS:

people he has injured in the past or friends/loved ones of people he’s injured in the past.

GOD I WOULD DIE FOR A GOOD SIBLING BOND FOR HIM. 

Ares kids, someone come get your idiot

[euhande]

⟨ SIMAY BARLAS. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, HANDE DEMIR is actually a descendent of A R E S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old PRE-LAW MAJOR from ÜBERLINGEN, GERMANY has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite AMBITIOUS & ABRASIVE. 

BACKGROUND

hande’s mother is a highly accomplished aerospace engineering graduate from one of berlin’s premiere universities, having worked for various defense companies as a missile specialist since graduating with her master’s degree. she may basically be a rocket scientist, but it’s not rocket science to figure out why ares was attracted to her 😉

they began a tumultuous, on-and-off again relationship that would last for 5 years, and it was only when hande was born that ares dropped the bomb on her mother that monsters were going to try and eat their baby, so she better buckle the fuck up and get ready to raise a demigod

that was the essentially the ending of their relationship — ares became an absent father the way most greek gods are, intermittently sending birthday cards every few years but often getting the dates wrong. she can count on one hand the amount of times she’s met him in-person outside of being a baby, while her mother has been a constant (if sometimes suffocating) presence in her life. she wouldn’t say much about hande’s father when prompted by baby hande, just that he was an asshole and didn’t deserve to meet her, which, fair

from the time she entered kindergarten, it was obvious that she was highly intelligent but had, to put it mildly, explosive behavior problems that would routinely disrupt class time. students were constantly picking fights with her for reasons beyond the teachers’ comprehension, often times materializing from thin air or being an extreme overreaction for typical kid teasing and shenanigans.

schools didn’t know what to do with her. they tried claiming she had emotional problems, they tried moving classrooms, moving schools, and nothing worked. it wasn’t until she was eleven that she was found by a satyr and encouraged into joining a demigod camp over the summer, so that she would be able to control what was undoubtedly emerging odikinesis

that same year, her mother found a higher-paying work opportunity and relocated them to a small city near the swiss border called überlingen, which is home to a prominent defense company that manufactures, you guessed it, missiles. it was a shit ton of change coming from both mortal and demigod sides at hande, and she was resentful of her mother for years for hiding such a crucial fact from her... nevertheless, she was grateful she had a chance to start fresh in a new place and was able to explore the demigod side of herself at the demigod camp in athens   

it was pretty obvious she was a child of ares, but she wasn’t claimed until she punched a boy in the teeth for harassing her and knocked out a couple of his teeth. iconic queen.

an elite german boarding school nearby was where she attended mortal school, admitted fully on her merits (the discipline record was conveniently covered up by the mist), but it’s not like she could magically wish away her powers and function as a normal mortal in school. she had a shaky control of her odikinesis up until she was a teenager, and would often provoke other people in her grade, both accidentally and on purpose. she gained a reputation among her school as one of the more... well-known residents, and while she graduated without getting into a fist fight (on school grounds, that is), she also graduated with no friends.

eonia university was the logical place for her to attend college, elite and rigorous enough to satiate her ego while still being a haven for demigods, and she’s currently majoring in pre-law with the intent to go to law school and become a lawyer!

PERSONALITY

she’s an acquired taste for sure

someone’s first impression of hande is typically negative 95% of the time, and she’s not even remotely insulted by that. she knows she’s brash, she knows she’s outspoken, she knows she can be mean, and she’s unapologetic about it because why should she have to adapt her personality to be palatable to people who are probably weaker and stupider than her??? (her thoughts not mine)

i really have to stress she’s not a dick just because she likes to be a dick to people... like she’s not gonna go to up to anyone’s muses and start bullying them in person for NO REASON.... she is an ADULT WOMAN.... but you provoke her, and there will be a reason

she’s extremely passionate about causes she believes in and sees her opinions about everything from food to weather to politics as the complete truth, so what she might see as playful banter when someone holds a different opinion actually comes across as extremely rude and bitchy to the person getting brutally attacked by her unwarranted point of view. but when she’s actually trying to argue with you, you’ll know

she’s kind of unique for a daughter of ares in that she really doesn’t engage in much physical violence since she entered college, preferring instead to start what could be considered “warfare” over the internet and academically with similarly high achieving peers. but she DOES know how to fight, she just would rather die than have another child of ares intervention by the demigod authorities ASDKSKDFSDMF

so ambitious and academically competitive. it’ll cause her to have an aneurysm at age 22 at the rate she’s going. you didn’t hear it from me but she isn’t ABOVE sabotage if someone tries stealing her #1 spot... tonya harding anyone?? hande is definitely someone who would sacrifice you to a monster or shove you into the lake if it meant she looked better in the end... so that’s something she probably needs to work on

BUT with all that being said, if you aren’t being beaten down by her insane argumentative skills, and hande actually takes a genuine liking to you, you’ll find that she’s... a pretty normal person for the most part. she’s pretty witty, fiercely loyal to the few friends she does have, super smart, and generally pretty enjoyable company. very generous with her money (loves paying for her friends’ food) and cares deeply about everything she argues so intensely about. a lot of people never give her enough of a chance to get to know her (and understandably so), but if you did you really wouldn’t find the image of a shallow bitch that’s often projected onto her

there’s this facebook meme that goes “Need to find new haters... my old ones starting to like me 😂” and that’s it that’s her entire life

if you want to know more just read her app!!

MISCELLANEOUS 

fluent in german, greek, english, and turkish (in order of how often she uses them, though greek is arguably used more than german at this point, she’d just rather die than admit it) 

she starts twitter wars and trolls people online in all 4 languages. it’s her primary pastime and she’s been permanently suspended from twitter a whopping 4 times, but every time she just re-spawns and comes back stronger. absolutely notorious for saying out of pocket shit what she thinks about any given european country and the people who live there and getting ganged up on by said people SASDSDASD her favorite people to cyberbully are british people and french people... rip 

captain of the debate team, and part of model un and mock trial. her ruthless captaincy of the debate team has caused multiple freshman interested in joining to flee in tears, but eonia routinely kicks ass in debate in tournaments across greece and europe as a whole, so it’s not all bad. she is unbelievably skilled in debate and honestly pretty friendly to the people who actually manage to stick around on the team

kicked out of the feminist club for being overtly confrontational... if your muse is in the feminist alliance, hmu for plots 

when she started attending athens’ demigod camp, it got in the way of her going to istanbul with her mother every summer to visit family. she's only started routinely going again since attending university, so most of her time is spent between istanbul and athens and hasn’t been back to germany in a hot second

i just feel like she has the type of energy to own a chihuahua and carry it around in her purse. no allowed pets at eonia but STILL.... that’s the vibe lads

her sexuality is ambiguous and she likes to keep it that way because it’s no one’s business but any and all romantic plots are open to all genders :~)

aside from her odikinesis, she’s able to put minor curses on weapons and will usually do so to make somebody else look like a fool during training

[cherry-thegenz]

MCYT prompts

list of my personal prompts so far : ) (some i’ve written for, will make a list of all the mcyt fics ive made maybe), will put written under ones i’ve written lol

Insane Skeppy (TW: torture)

 “Skeppy tortures Bad because he just needs someone to torture and I can't find the word for that

Anyways it'll be a longer oneshot so I hope someone does it”

written

Dolphin King (Karlnap)   Karl needs a dolphin to quickly make it through the ocean. But first, he needs to ask the Dolphin King to borrow one.

written

Drunken Pranks

 Sapnap, ever the insane idiot, decided it’d be a good idea to prank Dream. George, also an idiot, decided it’d be good to join him. Thus starting a prank war between all of them. (make them get drunk)

Nobody hurts Gogy (GeorgeNap | platonic or romantic)

somebody hurts gogy. sapnap gets very protective Fluff ;D [based off when sapnap said ‘nobody hurts gogy’ hahahahahahaha]

Don’t Mess W Niki 

basically bamf niki these are the notes i wrote  frick im supposed to sleep but was suddenly struck w this idea from animatic aka where wilbur n tommys citizenship is yeeted?? and its all angst and i love it butimagine that but while they're gone niki just gets so mad at schlatt and just like goes full on badass mode gets full netherite armor and stuff for like tommy n wilbur spends hours getting materials for themand when they come back she's handing them tools and weapons and she's got techno on her side and she's just ready to throw hands with schlatt, has tnt prepared, etc, shes just super prepared to murder schlatt and we get to see her sniping people with a bow

written

Atlantic Empire

techno is king of a weird kingdom. He’s known as the blood god, so good at pvp even the Dream SMP kingdom can’t touch him.

His kingdom is just so weird though.

He’s had at least three wars that had no violence at all- literally just about which kingdom could get more potatoes farmed

His subjects all bully him, hes fine with it, and they’re actually all adore him anyways. 

All of his citizens are strangely sarcastic (him even more so)

He’s allies with pogtopia, hates manburg

Neutral with the dream smp

“blood for the blood god” 

“Subscribe to technoblade”

“Technoblade never dies”

Its a small kingdom but most of the residents are so good at pvp or speed building or even bedwars/skywars in general that they’re all really powerful

His kingdom is normally p quiet actually

When it snows, it snows

Also ngl, all of their kingdom are BULLIES

Also they’re super competitive but have no hard feelings

Much anxiety (a lot of them chill in their homes or w one friend group but they all know each other)

Winner of antarctic empire bedwars championship go against technoblade and theyre just like “wow i win and all i have to do is speedbridge faster than a pig easy win, i’ll be the new ruler”

Its actually a really good match and in the end the winner gets to be Head Knight or sum, techno wins tho

written

  Scars (any ship, platonic/romantic)

“what? Shocked by my scars?”

“Kinda.”

“What are you gonna say? They’re a sign of how I survived? Because I know that, I wish I never did-“

“I haven’t even said anything, and you’re already making assumptions.”

“What?”

“I think they make you look imperfect. They make you look like you actually faced hardships. Like your life wasn’t perfect. It’s comforting, in a way.”

“..oh.”

Don’t Hurt The Children [Gods AU]

Don’t Hurt The Children

Prompt: essentially, there are gods on the smp.

Dream - demigod (of war)

George - mortal

Sapnap - demigod (of fire)

Niki - goddess (of friendship and revenge)

Eret - god (of betrayal and loyalty, because they lie hand in hand)

Techno - demigod (of victory & blood - his godly mother is actually p calm n knows when to use these so) 

Phil - god (of family and wisdom)

Wilbur - demigod (of violence)

Tommy - demigod /doesnt know it/ (of music, camaraderie - music discs lol -)

Tubbo - demigod (of nature)

Fundy- hybrid fox

eret is a God who lives in the Dream SMP, dream is a demigod of course, Techno also demigod, Phil + Niki other gods

wilbur goes Insane, hurts tommy - and eret, phil, and niki all decide hes d e a d

Respawn AU

respawn au but ppl get to choose when to perma-die or if they want to leave the server, they get as much time to choose as wanted

Wilbur traps tommy ? in a room w just a bed, wilbur goes to explode l’manburg but techno exposes him (jschlatt is good in this one), n wilbur is caught

Tommy dies from starvation in the game just as wilbur is caught and they all panic They have no clue where tommy is but wilbur (who is bad but not that bad that he’d let tommy die over n over from starving) shows them where he is and his bed spawnpoint

But tommy isnt there and they panic because

It shows when somebody dies

Doesnt show when they permadeath

Does show when they Leave the Game

So they all panic but actually tommy’s just in the respawn menu, tired of everything and disassociating. He snaps out of it because of techno :)

written

Coconut 2020 Win AU

what if fundy and niki initially won the election and became presidents..

me imagining reactions

fundy n niki: celebrating, happy etc

jschlatt (bc i love making him a good guy): sighs, shakes their hands tho and says congrats etc

wilbur on the other hand: betrayed, accusing, trying to take tommy and leave - tommy refuses 

Citizenship to Run 

Jschlatt wins but then Wilbur laughs and is like “lol thought u were joking bc only citizens of L’manburg can run, and ur only a guest” and that’s basically what happens

if you want to use one of these prompts, go ahead!! if it says written under it, that means i’ve written it on my ao3 Cherry_TheGenZ and it’d be cool if you could just mention me <3 

i will also be writing this so just mention my tumblr !! give me CLOUT 

[charlotteu]

⟨ SON CHAEYOUNG. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, CHARLOTTE TAM is actually a descendent of H E P H A E S T U S it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY TWO year old CIVIL ENGINEERING/BUSINESS MAJOR from SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite PRECISE & TENSE.

heyheyhey girls gays & they’s. my og’s remember charlotte and how deeply i love her also the looming promise that i’d bring her back. and here are we so ✌️ if any of you don’t know, i’m dakota, i’m nineteen (19), i live in cst, and i’m a part time barista along with a full time political science major. i’ll have some vague wanted connections at the bottom of this but my dm’s are always open both on here and on discord @ wet ass politics#6969

trigger warnings: death

full name & nicknames :

charlotte chunhwa tam / lottie & lola

major :

civil engineering & business

sexuality :

lesbian

gender idenitity / pronouns :

cis - female / she/her

age / birthday :

twenty - three, december tenth, nineteen - ninety - eight

zodiac :

sagittarius

personality :

charlotte is known to find literal scraps of anything and manage to make something gorgeous from it - whether it’s food, metal scraps, or a nearly - ruined picnic table - it’s a skill that she takes great pride in. she constantly tries to bring her loved ones together in one form or another, which results in quite a lot of last - minute plans and “family dinners.” because of these two traits, if someone just happened to forget to plan a birthday party or a baby shower and needed it thrown together within a day or two (maybe that is on her bucket list, maybe not,) charlotte is your perfect person. regardless of this, charlotte is still considered that friend that never has their life together and has an extensional crises every few weeks. family wise, their relationship with their siblings is something that they take very seriously. even the ones that give her stress acne are still very much able to feel the affection and love she’s has for her family. she constantly checks in on all of her siblings and regularly makes an effort to be as involved in their lives as possible.

when it comes to school work, charlotte is perfectly organized. a well - planned and well - filled out academic calendar is always in her backpack and she has a few dozen notifications on both her phone and her laptop to remind her of class assignments. she is well - known at the tutoring center for her near constant sessions to ensure to that she is totally, a hundred percent getting the assignment. her math classes is where she thrives, and she has a record of taking several math classes during the summertime to further her knowledge. charlotte’s known for the immense pride that she takes in her work along with the very long academia career that they wish to have.

myers - briggs, vice, & virtue :

entp, temperance, & distrusting

hobbies :

welding, drawing, sculpting/general crafting, trivia games, meditation, going into nature & finding animals, 

powers :

sensing faults in metal ores, technokenesis, and pyrokinesis. charlotte considers her technokenesis powers to be the stronger of her abilities now that she’s taken the time to work on it since her break. she uses it to help both students and professors on campus deal with their I.T issues and to make small devices to help her friends in their way to help with their daily life. she plans to use her sensing abilities to help with her career choice later on in life, so she continues to work on improving them to help later on. with honesty, she doesn’t use pyrokinesis beyond helping her forge things or as a cute party trick. they have very few plans to ever venture beyond the walls of a protected area ever again so her ability to control whatever flames she makes under pressure is virtually nonexistent.

backstory :

         tam chaewon, aged thirty, had just finished her blacksmith apprenticeship abroad in the netherlands when she decides to go to a bar to celebrate with some friends before trying to find a job when she’s approached by a man claiming to overhear her accomplishment. eager to talk about her future, the two of them end up talking for three hours about it along with the various paths open for her to take. maybe it’s the willingness to sit and listen to her or maybe it’s the legitimacy in his interest that drew her in, but the two ended up spending the night together; they spend only two days together before he leaves with an address for chaewon to write to him if it’s needed. and she does, approximately two months later when she learns she’s pregnant with a baby girl. he writes back nothing but an apology, money to help with the expenses, along with a separate letter to give to the child when she turned ten. 

(trigger warning in the paragraph: death specifically during child birth.)         fast forward through a tornado of eight months and chaewon is visiting her parents when charlotte was born prematurely in seoul, south korea in chaewon’s childhood bathroom. there’s a complication with both chaewon and charlotte shortly the birth and the paramedics sped through the streets to pick up the two, doing their best to keep the two of them alive during the ride. the woman’s family races behind them in the family car, barely able to find the room the two are in to see the nurses rush ahead of them. (no one can tell charlotte what the complication is, but her mom stays alive for an gruesome day and a half, straddling the border between life and death. she’s declared dead on december eleventh at 12:18 pm, 1998.) legend has it that silence ran through the waiting room that the family was in, an unearthly wail leaving charlotte’s grandmother as she realizes what she had to pay to receive her granddaughter. no one wants to touch the child, let alone raise her. their family is faced with a choice when they’re handed the death certificate of their daughter, the birth certificate of their granddaughter, and their granddaughter herself.

           her uncle is the one that ends up taking her in that day. the oldest sibling to her mother by six years, he had been an entrepreneur bachelor his entire life up until that point. so it’s whiplash, to say the least, to completely upheave his life in seoul and move to the small town of parga, greece to raise charlotte. the transition period between being a bachelor to a single father is hard, but he does his best to not give up on it. along side the lack of support from his family, it makes it all such a draining process. when she turns six, her uncle hires the first person to help the family: a highly recommended local nanny by the name of phoebe who would stay with the tam family until charlotte turned eighteen. it’s around this time that her uncle begins to drift away more, trying to keep his business on track, but he always comes back with an elaborate apology and an equally elaborate gift for charlotte to make up for the digression. 

          when she turns twelve, she starts to develop ... slightly unusual powers that always came as a shock but were immediately chalked up to scarily accurate guesses. it’s a fun party trick she uses at classroom gatherings, guessing where faults where in desks, trying to figure out what was wrong with technology, etc. and it didn’t go much beyond that for a very long time. it’s a rainy summer day when her uncle sits her down with a strange man who explains to the both of them that she’s a ... demigod. it takes a whole afternoon to convince charlotte of this fact while her uncle looks at her like a monster. she promptly declines any move to go to a camp (much to her uncle’s dismay) and the next six years of her life is promptly laid out. a life lived in a private plane, tucked away from the world to live out of a few suitcases and bought time from others.

          this quiet life sealed away from the outside world leaves her doing whatever she can to keep busy. building whatever she can, trying to stay as occupied as much as she can. it results in a suitcase full of little trinkets by the time she’s six months into home schooling. the next few years of her life pass her by in a terrible haze as she does everything she can to catch up to the life that has been set out for her. her life begins to slow down when she gets into college at the age of nineteen, where she finally finds a safe haven amongst people like her. however, at the beginning of 2020, charlotte finds herself catching deep feelings for one EILILDH GALBRAITH. a fiery, vibrant, and resistant spirit immediately draws charlotte into deep feelings for her. the relationship happens for several months before the relationship comes to an abrupt halt in the end of october. unable to come to terms with her first major breakup, charlotte cites a personal, family matter to switch to online classes before coming back to in person at the end of finals shortly before the evacuation. 

wanted connections :

DREAMLAND / a v simple plot with room for extreme nuance! someone that charlotte can help bounce ideas off of and vise versa. enable each other’s terrible ideas but do it with much love and a camera on hand at all times. ( 0/2 spots taken )

HIT DIFFERENT / some type of fun flirtatious relationship. maybe they’re just friends, maybe they’re party buddies (for the rare parties that she goes to,) or maybe they just happen to keep meeting. hopefully it’s very relaxed on both ends. ( 0/1 spots taken, must be afab )

ALWAYS GOLDEN / best friends, ride or die type shit. can we get some friend group for it tho because i always love a good group dynamic ( 0/5 spots taken )

I DIDN’T FALL / some kind of missed love, like those missed connections on craiglist. maybe the two of them grew close during charlotte’s time away from university or maybe they almost dated before charlotte was out, either way there’s still some mixed feelings of resentment for not making a move, the deathly “what if’s?”, and mayhaps some feelings that still linger. ( 0/1 spots taken, must be afab )

SPORTS / someone who helped navigate charlotte through her own experience of coming out and how that fits into her cultural identity along and her career field. i have a decent idea of her coming out process but i’m definitely flexible with it ( 0/1 spots taken )