#thought about the absoluteness of the fact that she really was gonna outlive the people she cares about. so much.

[secrosss]

thought about marcille a lil bit too long and now I feel like bawling like a baby

[crow-in-gotham]

BLOG POST NO. 4 - ALL ABOUT THE WAYNES

Remember that off-handed comment I made about moving into Gotham without proper research? Well, it’s more like no research at all because I just found out who the Waynes actually are.

For you see, I am what my friends lovingly (read: derogatorily) refer to as an internet hermit. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I have lived under a rock for basically my entire life. Well, at least when it comes to anything celebrity related. Hell, I don’t know much about Filipino celebrities, much less foreign ones. The only Filipino celebrities I bothered knowing the bare minimum about is BINI, and the only foreign actors I know are the ones who played in the Harry Potter series.

But back to my main point— yes, I only just now found out about who the Waynes are.

Why? Because I literally share a class with one of them. Actually, scratch that, I’m pretty sure I share a class with two of them—

So I did a little digging (read: my friends were appalled by how “uncultured” I am, and forced me to sit through a 3 hour long lecture about Wayne Lore) and here’s my thoughts.

First of all, Bruce Wayne, or “Brucie” as the media likes to call him, is the biggest fucking teddy bear I have ever seen. Like seriously, if “head empty, no thoughts” was a person, it would be him. Kinda sus (look Ray, internet slang!) to think he’s completely empty up there considering the fact that he, you know, runs one of the biggest enterprises in the entire world? The man is richer than Lex Luthor himself (yes, I know who he is— thank you Lan) and just keeps getting richer even with the amount of money he just seems to throw out everyday.

Honestly I’d be inclined to believe he’s actually some sort of secret super genius who’s just hiding behind a facade of stupidity just to lower everyone’s guard, but at the same time, I, quite frankly, could not give a fuck. The man pays my scholarship, I don’t really care if he’s the human version of a koala or the second coming of Isaac Newton. As long as he keeps doing all the good that he’s doing, I’m good. Overall, seems like a good guy and a nice hugger.

Next up is Richard Grayson-Wayne. Or, as literally everyone apparently calls him, “Dick”. Like, seriously? I know this has probably been said so many times— to the point where if you took all those times it was said by someone and turned it into an audio file, it would probably outlive the universe— but still. Really? Out of all the nicknames, you chose that?

And okay, maybe times were just different back then (shoutout to you old people out there), but was this guy so attached to the name that he just couldn’t be bothered to change it even when the modern day meaning for it was popularized? I mean, seriously, how many spittakes am I gonna have to go through every time my friend (hi Lan) says something along the lines of “I have a thing for Dick”. My friend knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing every time he says this sentence, because he never bothered to add the last name “Grayson” to it. Like, I know you’re gay Lan, but come on. The closet is already made of fucking glass.

Other comments to make? That ass. Like seriously, he tries to hide it by wearing slacks but sir, we are not blind. Those seams are fighting for their lives every time you take a step.

Next one on the list is Cassandra Cain-Wayne. There’s honestly not much else I can say about her other than the fact that I think she’s an absolute angel, and that I’ve replayed videos of her ballet performances for maybe an hour? There’s just something about the way that she dances that just looks so mesmerizing. It reminds me of a swan— beautiful, graceful, and equally as deadly. No, seriously, have you seen angry swans attacking people? Those birds can be fucking terrifying. I don’t know what about her looks so dangerous, but she just does? To me? It’s weird.

I’m not saying she’s a bad person or anything, I’m just saying that in a scenario where someone tries to mug her, I don’t think it would be her who’d end up with stitches. Which, honestly, I respect.

Next is Jason Todd-Wayne. The fucking brick house himself. I mean, come on, just look at one picture taken of him recently and tell me you did not stare for more than 10 seconds. This man is the definition of “If he’s a tree then I’m a squirrel”. Am I completely biased in this case? Maybe. Will I plead guilty? Over my dead fucking body.

The whole “disappeared for a weird amount of time, was assumed dead by the public for a while, then suddenly came back one day out of nowhere” situation aside, this guy is like the prime example of a glow-up. I don’t know what happened during those years he went missing, but he came back looking like a beefed up Princess Anna.

Chunk of muscle aside, there are also a few pictures of him hanging out with the kids that come by Martha’s House (local homeless shelter— thanks WE), and rescuing kittens from trees, and honestly I think it’s so sweet. It’s giving “gap moe” and I’m very much here for it.

Up next is Timothy Drake-Wayne, otherwise known as Tim (because who the fuck says Timothy nowadays—). Now this guy is the reason why this entire post exists in the first place. Why? Because I literally saw him walk right into class and sit literally right next to me (which, now that I think about it, is kinda weird because we were in a lecture hall and— hello, there’s literally 10 other seats in the same line as us?). Now, at first I didn’t really think anything of it— because duh, I lived under a rock remember? I had no idea who he was when he walked in, nor why everyone else in the room was staring at us like our heads were on fire (I checked— they were not), but I was running on 2 hours of sleep and barely any caffeine so I couldn’t give two fucks.

Then this mf (look Ray, abbreviations!) turned to me and just— hands me a bottle of 5 hour energy? That he just took out of his bag?? Now don’t get me wrong, I was thankful and all that, because there was no way in hell I would’ve survived that class without more caffeine making my heart almost palpitate, but also— kinda weird? Didn’t think much of it anyway and just thanked him. We did introduce ourselves to each other, but only with our first names because, you know, who the fuck introduces themselves with their full names unless it’s the first day of class and your professor decided it would be great to “get to know everyone” by doing self-introductions.

It wasn’t until 3 hours later at lunch when I discovered that I had, in fact, talked to Tim Drake-Wayne himself, courtesy of one of my friends (I’m looking at you Rayne) screaming at me.

That was also what led to the whole “sit down and let’s talk about Wayne Lore” that lasted 3 hours.

Duke Thomas-Wayne is the next one. This guy is an absolute fucking sunshine. He’s the other guy that’s in one of my other classes— actually, now that I think about it, we’re in a group together for that class’ semester-long project.

Wtf.

The literal personification of a ray of light is groupmates with me holy shit. “Become group mates with a Wayne” was definitely not on my bucket list for this year but you know what I’m not complaining about it.

Oh god I just remembered the fact that I ended up rambling about seashells for an embarrassingly long amount of time to him because the group wasn’t talking about anything so I ended up making small talk with the person next to me, which ended up being him.

I hope he liked my ramblings about the different kinds of seashells I have??

Last but definitely not the least (I feel legally obligated to say that) is Damian Wayne himself. He’s famous for being the only Wayne child to actually be blood-related to Bruce Wayne (not that that makes the others any less his kids—), and also well-known for the fact that he threatened to shove a cane up someone’s ass during one of the many Wayne Galas. Honestly, I respect it. The threatened person was being an asshole to some other guests and apparently Damian Wayne had enough of his bullshit. It made rounds on social media for an entire year apparently (not that I’d know— I was dead to the internet beyond my little circle of hyperfixations).

Other than that there’s not really much else to say about this guy? Other than the fact that I think he’s kinda cute in the little brother way. There’s a clip online of Tim Drake-Wayne calling him a demon spawn though, which I think is funny as fuck. It’s giving sibling energy to the max. I’m sure there's a good reason why this Damian Wayne has been dubbed the demon spawn.

There’s some honorable mentions for the Wayne Family (you know who I’m talking about) but honestly this has gone on for so fucking long. Maybe I’ll make a separate post about it at some point.

… How the fuck does Bruce Wayne deal with all these fucking kids—

[toxic-potions-productions]

How does Zakiko have a descendent? Let's talk about it

So, I thought about this last night & figured I got nothing better to do since I started blood week & I'm too lazy to draw. So, let's do some ✨lore dumping!✨

Grab a snack, cuz this is gonna be a ride

I'm just gonna put some disclaimers & TWs here now! There's mentions of arranged & forced marriages, death, abandonment, light manga spoilers, violence, & just overall not the weak of heart. You have been warned -----------------------------------------------------

The late Sengoku era was here. Zakiko was already a half-demon, Michikatsu was missing & presumably dead from the demon slayer mark, & Yoriichi had died from "a demon attack" when he was old & brittle & "helpless". Zakiko was the only one still around. & she HATED it. She missed them so much, & all she wanted was to be left alone.

People were getting wed off & arranged by this time, & Zakiko was in no mood to be wed off. She outlived her parents by this point, so there's no way they can sell her off anymore. But, she can still be picked by others. & that would be horrible. So, that basically means she avoided every proposal & offer like the plague. They were all men, & Zakiko was not one for a man to be wed off to. None of the girls at this time really caught her eye, either. Guess she was really independent, or just really picky. Either way, Zakiko kept to herself knowing this was all going on around her.

But, eventually, her nightmare happened.

She was chosen to be married to the current emperor's son after taking the throne, & birth a precautionary heir. Zakiko was livid & chewed out EVERYONE involved, including the son, but she was still forced into this life she didn't want. The son wasn't exactly the most horrible person, perse, but Zakiko still despised him for letting this happen. He really tried to make her comfortable, but she dismissed him every single time, knowing she was angry at everything for this happening. But, despite knowing this wouldn't be the happiest of marriages, he still wanted to at least give her a chance.

So, a marriage later, Zakiko eventually had something growing in her. Something that was absolute HELL. She wanted to get rid of this baby by any means. She's good with kids, but being forced into a life she didn't want, a husband she didn't want or love, along with a new life growing she didn't like already was killing her. To make things worse, she was worried if people would know she's a half-demon this way when the baby comes. She didn't even know this could happen to her at all now that she's a half-demon.

Her "husband" tried to pamper her, care for her, & tend to anything she needed, but she continued to berate & belittle him just for her own protection & putting this responsibility on her. He grew to love her by this point. Zakiko only grew darker & hated these royals even more. Wishing death on them every single time.

She tried to get rid of this every time, but it was all in vain, as they eventually made it into the world. A healthy baby boy, completely human.

While Zakiko was relieved to see no signs of being a half-demon from this infant, she still resented him & her "husband" for this. This isn't what she wanted, this isn't what she needed. She just wanted to be with her actual loved ones again. Yoriichi & Michikatsu never would've let this happen if they were alive.

A few days went by, & Zakiko was exhausted from everything. From the delivery to the current events. She continued to stay there, purely due to how exhausted she was. But, knowing this was essentially her life, she knew she had one thing left to do.

She needed to get out.

She hates the fact she pulled the same stunt Michikatsu did, but it was all for her sanity. She had to leave. She needed to leave.

So.....She abandoned them. Her newborn, her "husband", her royal title, every single part of her life.

Her husband really begged her to stay, but it all went on deaf ears. This was around the time where she was finally perfecting Michikatsu's moon breathing, too. Guess being his Tsuguko was alot more helpful than she realizes.

When guards tried to stop her, she had already snapped & was too far gone. So, if they wouldn't let her leave, she'll force them to make her leave. & that's what she did when she had a stolen wooden sword in hand.

When they charged at her, she finally broke. & did an outward slash to try & shove them off. But, it ended in blood.

"Moon breathing! 1st form! Dark moon evening palace!"

The first moon breathing form she ever truly perfected. & she was actually delighted despite the accidental massacre. This is when she concluded to using his breathing style much more & perfecting it immensely. & with that, she was gone. & her "husband" & son never saw her again.

Her husband continued to raise his son without Zakiko, but he was so heartbroken from not only her absence, but from not a single ounce of reciprocation from how he really felt of her. Nothing.

He eventually died from esophageal cancer. Leaving his son to dismiss his new title & just live peacefully as a commoner. He still occasionally visits his old royal temple, but after knowing what his mother did, he didn't want to live there anymore. Since it reminded him too much of her. He never met her. But, he also somewhat glad he didn't. When your mother leaves everything behind when you're only a few days old, that really tells you alot.

But, Zakiko was just gone. Vanished into thin air. When in reality, she was finally at peace, genuinely a bit happy despite Yoriichi & Michikatsu not being here anymore, & dove herself in head first to moon breathing & practicing it constantly. & eventually, she forgot all about her old life.

Little did she know that this would ultimately lead to a chain reaction of events. & X-amount of years later, her descendent would be born. A shinobi with pink hair, living out in the entertainment district in Yoshiwara, who willingly chose to be arranged to the best kunoichi of this time. The second one arranged after another man with fluffy yellow hair & before the last one with black hair escaping his own wealthy lifestyle.

A split copy of her personality wise, in more ways than one.

Senko Matsumoto.

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

DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMN

Okay, sorry for cooking too hard. I had alot of fun writing this Told you the triggers would be there for a reason, I'm not responsible for anything!

I'll put mature things on this in a few hours, so read this while you still can

[glamfellens]

Is there anything you can share about NPC extraordinaire, James Blythe? How close is Aeres with him in canon?

lmao ye gonna put this under a read more bc theres quite a lot an d i cant shut up mr james blythe is a battle master fighter who is a lieutenant in the navy :^) since he's the younger son of a minor noble family there wasn't anything for him to inherit or really do on their small estate so his options were join the navy or clergy for whatever god he wanted james is an overall good boy. he can be a bit naive and extremely stubborn, and tends to hold himself and others to very high standards and will absolutely follow these to a fault. but he's also very devoted and driven and doesn't hold himself above other people just because of his background i think james is also a bit of a show off and absolutely has a shit head side. his humour is very dry though he's definitely better at filtering his thoughts than aeres is.

james and aeres met in a tavern about a year before the events of the game. their situation is like one night stand -> friends with benefits -> sort of an established relationship situation, in so far as at this point they're exclusively seeing one another (as has always been the case with James apparently but aeres stopped seeing other people probably like... eight months before current events) the issue is aeres is like, fine identifying her emotions but expressing things like affection doesn't come easy to her and it is doubled down by the fact that she is keenly aware that she is going to outlive james by a few centuries, so i think her self-denial of it being anything more than just F*ck Buddies is a defence mechanism. james is more clued into what's going on between the two of them but he doesn't really want to push it or push Aeres so he's happy to just go along with how things are for now lmao. it's basically a long term relationship in all but name at this point i guess tldr they are both kind of idiots but this is all about to be thrown into sharp relief by the fact that james is currently under a mass suggestion spell cast by the villain (this guy is a navy commodore for whom james works under as a second lieutenant so i like did this to myself basically because i had the option of having him work under the Good guy but lmao no) of the campaign and since its a higher level than her dispel magic her best options to break him out of it are 1) Bonk to the Head or 2) Talk to him and maybe that will include openly acknowledge some feelings, in order to get him thinking on his own terms rather than continue being enthralled

so yea they're having a great time right now. idk when the next session is gonna be but im stressed about having to beat up my boy. aeres is at half health so it might be her who gets her ass kicked

[drunktuesdays]

i think about "over" like every day of my life and your author's note rly takes me out, thinking about our horny foremothers in fandom. i also think a lot abt like...our own legacies as horned up fans on al gore's internet. can ask what's one thing you'd like to say to pat if you met her? or what's one trope or ship or headcanon etc that you hope outlives you?

(the fic referenced)

😭😭😭😭😭😭 KASPER THIS IS SO NICE. I do really really love thinking about our beautiful foremothers submitting their pornofictions to zines, mailing each other letters about spock's dick, and absolutely innovating every day of their beautiful genius lives.

i love thinking about pat. i love thinking about the fact that she left such a huge legacy on such a relatively small fandom that her obituary is just as vibrant and meaningful twenty years later. I love all the stories her friends told about her. That she was a humongous anti-slasher who vocally complained about them until one of her friends dared her to write a good slash fic, and she convinced herself that slash was fun and worthwhile. Can you being imagine being NOTABLE for hating something and then somehow having the presence of spirit not only to reverse course but absolutely admit openly to why it happened and enthusiastically embrace the opposite side? i won't admit that i'm wrong about shit. there's an emoji in the groupchat that SPECIFICALLY exists to annoy me because i once insisted that a picture of a skyline was detroit when it was boston. and i live in boston. literally pat was a greater person than i'll ever be.

there's also another story about her that i think about more often than you'd ever guess.

I remember I use to annoy the heck out of her when I said I thought she and Blake had the same Myers-Briggs personality type. She hated the very idea, because she thought Blake was a fanatic. She even sent me stacks of photocopied material on personality typing, hoping to convince me that she and Blake were nothing alike.

I don't know why this story charms so much but it does. Stacks of PHOTOCOPIED MATERIAL!!! Doesn't that sound like something i'd do? One of you gets me all riled up and I send you 47 dms arguing why you're wrong? ONLY PAT DIDN'T HAVE DM. SHE HAD TO SEND THIS BITCH PHOTOCOPIED PAGES ABOUT MYERS-BRIGGS TO PROVE HER POINT!!!!!! I LOVE YOU PAT!!!!! I HOPE YOU HIGHLIGHTED STUFF POINTEDLY TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

God, the headcanon/trope/ship that outlives me. I know it's gonna be sterek and i know it's gonna be that fucking jizzcrow. i know if i ever have an obituary that people contribute to, someone's gonna say "that bitch did the weirdest stuff with jizz" and i, a ghost who haunts all of you, will hang my head and say "i know that's right." I'm fine with that. I hope people say that Lea did whatever she wanted. I hope people are like "she used her time on earth very strangely, making incredibly mundane and seemingly unsexy things seem horrifyingly erotic." I hope that 1d anon says "you wouldn't believe the fandoms that weirdo got into next."

[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.”

[deathbydarkelves]

I decided to make playlists for Cathala and Tarinne plus explanations for why I chose each song because I entered one of those ADHD fugue states and if I didn't finish this task I would die

Anyway here are the two links (they're youtube playlists because I don't have spotify. I would obviously recommend using an adblocker if you're just gonna watch on youtube) and the explanations for each song are below the cut :) Each playlist is about an hour long.

For Tarinne’s:

1. Foggy Nights: I consider this her theme so putting it first as a sort of intro only makes sense.

2. Here’s a Health to the Company: I think this works as an example of her general disposition. She’s a people person, and always a fan of singing these sorts of songs in taverns, on ships, or what have you. It also kind of feels like a sendoff to soldiers, which I imagine symbolizes her joining the Sentinel Army and quickly thereafter fighting in the Third War.

3. Wartime Prayers: Somewhat self-explanatory, this is symbolizing her seeing war for the first time, but I also included it because the last line transitions SO WELL into the next song.

4. The Hollow: This song is an intro to an album I've never heard so I don't know the context, but I really love it because it sounds like someone praying to their deity and like I mean c'mon. Elune. Tarinne's praying to Elune to guide her through the war. Do I need to elabo-

5. Wave Walker: KILL DEATH MAIM AHAHAHAHA

6. Isil Elun’falo: Just a super rad fan-made night elf song that's basically "wow we sure do love Elune" said in twenty different ways for four and a half minutes. But it ROCKS and I LOVE it.

7. Chewing Cotton Wool: This song is about losing a loved one (I did have to check but yeah that's what it is) and I use it to symbolize Tarinne losing her mom during the war. The last line, which includes the song's title, I especially like. It's referring to how morticians (apparently) put cotton gauze in a corpse's throat and mouth to keep body fluids in and make the face look more natural. So there's a fun fact for you.

8. See U Soon (Song for Dad): Just a short lofi piece to rest a bit, and it was also chosen because the title's in reference to Tarinne growing closer to her dad after losing her mom. She still visits him at his leathers and furs shop in Stormwind fairly often, especially after dangerous adventures. She just wants to make sure he knows she's alright ;-;

9. No Lullaby: Right back into it with a song that I use to represent Tarinne's general feeling of not being able to go home because it's not there anymore. She's felt like this since the end of the Third War, but it's especially strong since the whole Teldrassil thing. But I like the ending, "who said you're on your own," because it contrasts the repeating of "alone" in the rest of the song. And it's kinda like "hey, listen, you're not the only one who feels like she can't go home." I mean that's probably how basically every single night elf feels right now skxnks

10. The Moss: This song juxtaposes classic fairy tales with scientific facts about the world and I love it to BITS. I'm using it here to represent both Tarinne's love for storytelling but also her sort of... part-time historian/archaeologist/conservator career.

11. Rasputin: I just associate this song with her for some reason and this was the best place to put it.

12. Electric Feel: Moving on to focus more on Tarinne's relationship with Cathala now. This is an extremely great and somewhat 😏 song that I also included because the electricity theme is appropriate because Cathala has lightning powers and y'know it's from Tarinne's perspective or whatever.

13. Bedroom Hymns: You know why this is here.

14. Movement: I can't talk about love songs without talking about Hozier, okay. This is just a nice, slower song to relax a bit with.

15. Never Let Me Go: I have an entire goddamn music video in my head with Cathala and Tarinne for this song and it’s very dramatic and emotional and I had to include this song or I’d die. Basically just listen to near the end of this song when she's repeating the title over and over, and imagine the two of them seeing each other at opposite ends of a battlefield after the dust settles and they rush towards each other and fall to their knees holding on as tightly as they can because they got separated early on and each thought the other was dead. Then you'll know how I feel when I listen to this song.

16. Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control: First of all I love the title, and second of all there's a big section in the middle (1:49 to 2:47) that I like to interpret as the two of them grappling with the fact that they're not really quite sure who or what they're fighting for anymore. Their people, yeah, but there's so many alliances and semi-permanent enemies and only-on-every-other-thursday-enemies all intertwined and the world is just so very confusing and they're trying to make the best of it. Elf school didn’t include international, interracial politics in its curriculum. It did however include how to properly plant trees, and AP calculus (this is a joke).

17. In Dreams: I like to imagine this song is something the two of them would say to each other, as a way of saying “even when everything we know is gone, even when the world ends, I will still be by your side. And if I’m not, don’t fear, for I will find you.” It makes a nice note to end on :)

For Cathala’s:

1. muse: Just a nice lofi intro to get us into things :) I don't see this song as her theme, like I do with Tarinne and the first song in her playlist, but I like it quite a bit. I don't actually really have a theme for Cathala yet, I'm currently going with a version of Way of the Monk from WoW's OST but I'm still looking for something better.

2. Frogs Singing: I included this because it's about just appreciating nature, which works because night elf and also mindfulness and meditation is a whole thing.

3. Tongues: This is a song about feeling distant from your peers which is like Cathala's whole existence! She's this weird mix of two cultures and ultimately she feels out of place regardless of where she is or who she's with. Also the theme with not understanding what people are saying works because the poor woman had to learn Pandaren from scratch and that shit ain't easy. I think blizz said somewhere probably that Common is just a language that EVERYONE knows inherently because Video Game but that's bullshit in my opinion. I'll allow spells that let you understand foreign languages to an extent (Comprehend Languages from D&D lets you understand the LITERAL meaning only, which I like), but every culture and species in the universe knowing Common is silly if you think about it for more than two seconds.

4. Kung Fu Fighting: I'm legally required to include this song. Also I prefer the Kung Fu Panda version, I'm sorry.

5. Harder Better Faster Stronger: I vicariously experience having a great work ethic through Cathala and that's why this song is here because she has 999 Determination and does Too Many push-ups every day or something idk. I was gonna say "every morning" but I have a headcanon that elves only need to sleep every couple of days (sort of a nod to "elves don't need to sleep at all" from D&D, and to explain why NIGHT elves are active at all hours of the day) so that doesn't work.

6. What's Up Danger: This song is Cathala's whole Vibe. Almost zero threat assessment skills in this woman's brain. If it can be punched, she will punch it.

7. Eye for an Eye: Fairly self-explanatory, it's a song about wanting revenge so... yeah. Checked that box. It was this or The Vengeful One by Disturbed but ultimately The Vengeful One's religious symbolism probably makes it fit better as a Tyrande theme lol ("I'm the hand of god, I'm the dark messiah." Did you mean: the Night Warrior)

8. Survivor: Cathala's survived a lot of shit and this could kinda be her making fun of herself for it because "Gods, man! Don't I deserve a break!"

9. Ashes: Really the reason I include this song is the last chunk (2:42 to the end) because holy shit. Listen, if I was gonna include a song with fire motifs, it was gonna be a somber one like this.

10. Into the West: This can kinda represent Cathala just trying to fucking breathe and recover from Teldrassil. Also works because I dunno it has stuff to do with the elves in LotR, I haven't seen those movies in a while. It sounds nice and is melancholy so I included it.

11. Like Real People Do: Cathala loves Tarinne a lot you guys have I ever menti-

12. Into the Wild: Tarinne changed Cathala's world for the better and she's super fucking grateful she has her by her side. Kinda goes without saying but you know.

13. Chasing the Moon: I have a vague music video in my head for this of them falling in love and it's very cute so there's that. Also it's in this specific spot because hey she may be deeply traumatized but she's still got a fair number of things/people in her life that make her happy so :)

14. Follow My Girl: I've got a theme going in my head that while Tarinne is fairly certain of her place in the world, Cathala is still trying to find hers. She outlived all her connections on Pandaria because Elf Lifespans(tm) and the only members of her family still alive are distant relatives she never knew very well.

15. Wish That You Were Here: This works both to represent Cathala on Pandaria feeling super homesick, and for more recently after Teldrassil. Either way, it's a message to her parents and sister.

16. Mr. Fear: She does her damnedest to hide it but she's absolutely terrified something like Teldrassil's gonna happen again! That fear drives her to do everything in her power to protect who and what she can. As long as they're not Forsaken, cause she's still got her biases, that compassion even extends across faction lines. She never really got the whole Alliance/Horde thing anyway. Innocent people shouldn't have to die, regardless of who or what they are.

17. Ordinary Day: Not to get super out there but I think this song works as symbolizing Cathala really trying to hold on to her faith in Elune, but ultimately feeling pretty abandoned. I mean she can clearly see Elune's influence everywhere. But Elune sure ain't doing Cathala any favors as far as she can tell! It also ends the whole playlist on maybe a bit of an uncertain/open-ended note, because this "losing faith" aspect is a new thing with her and will definitely be something she continues to struggle with for a while. On a related note, I should say Tarinne is still very much devout but she gets what Cathala's feeling and doesn't force anything on her, and vice versa. And Cathala wouldn't become atheist, the night elves aren't monotheistic and she still worships all the other deities, it's just specifically Elune she's a little :/ on.

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

I’m sure you’ve answered this before, but why do you like “Night of the Living Pharmacists” so much? I don’t know your profile says you like me and it kinda freaks me out so just curious.

I actually haven’t answered this before, which is why when I saw this in my inbox, I stared at it for a few minutes and exit my browser because wow, where do I even begin with this one? This is going to be an unnecessarily long post, but because I am a kind and benevolent blogger, I’ll put a Keep Reading here so y’all don’t have to scroll through five years of excited rambling from yours truly.

Honestly, off the top of my head, I don’t really know why Night of the Living Pharmacists resonated with me. I just know that the first time I watched it, probably about 10 hours into a Phineas and Ferb binge on Disney+ because that’s basically my life at this point -- I was absolutely captivated from the beginning. I thought about it for a couple days, and I came up with a couple reasons.

First of all, I love Candace and Vanessa’s friendship. Candace goes Full Lesbian™ from the moment she sees Vanessa at the store until she realizes they’re actually surrounded by dumbasses. I love that she has no problem taking charge in the presence of these “cool older girls,” and even calls them out for kinda being idiots. And, to be honest, what’s better than Candace and Vanessa bonding over the fact that weird shit happens to them all the time while they’re dealing with even weirder shit? 

The other big thing I like is Perry’s part in all this. He’s basically in the background the whole time, but he’s arguably the most important player in the game.  I’m such a sucker for Perry protecting the boys (I’m looking at you, at2d), and seeing him standing on a rooftop with his binoculars, knowing damn well that the whole city is in danger but giving no fucks about anyone but his boys warms my heart every time. 

Part of the reason it took me a week to respond to this ask though is that I watch Phineas and Ferb on the treadmill everyday, and notlp was coming up in the rotation, so I figured I might as well watch it again before I answered this for a scene or two to reference in my answer, right? Except I realized as I was watching it that a lot of my favorite jokes in the series are in this episode, so, once again, welcome to gifapalooza!

I don’t even have a description for this like Buford hears that they’re making a rubberization ray and his first thought it...

Bonus: Phineas’s reaction

And then there’s Perry looking like he stepped straight out of club penguin

This might be my favorite trap? He’s a fucking disco ball? They’re doing the fucking disco? How can you not love it?

They have a pillowfight? Is this not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?

The songs are all really good but the “Who’s that Guy?” one and the “Lots of Me!” remix are my shit. Look how happy he is!

I just love how chill she is like I know this is fairly normal for a Doofenshmirtz but she’s like “huh, weird” and moves on with her life

Also, Stacy’s whole plotline is fucking hilarious but this part takes the cake

These dudes talking about how the whole zombie pharmacist thing doesn’t make any sense were funniest the first time but it feels like the whole joke goes on too long and it gets boring UNTIL the line “are you insinuating that my clothes are alive?” and that never fails to make me laugh

This might be my favorite joke in the whole thing just because of the cut from “LOTS OF ME” to “LESS OF ME” 

Perry’s face when Heinz says it’s his first time flying a helicopter has major Drusselstein Driving Test Waltz vibes and tbh I can’t blame him

Candace: ah shit zombies -_-

Perry, always two steps ahead:

I’m still bitter that the only times Phineas and Heinz get to bond over building are the Other-Dimensionator that kinda gets glossed over for the sake of the actual plot and this scene that happens during a musical montage but this part’s pretty good I’m not even gonna lie

Also I was too lazy to gif these ones but these are also funny:

“OW! THIS IS HOT! Did that just come out of the oven?” “Well, my hands are metal!”

“It’s a callback to something I didn’t even hear!! IN YOUR FACE, LOGIC!” (and the fact that he makes another callback to something he didn’t even hear later in the episode which makes it a callback to what he didn’t hear and a callback to this callback makes it even better)

“Was is worth the time it took to make the scale model?” 

Heinz calling the zombies “pharmacist freaks” after complaining for the millionth time that people assumed he was a pharmacist

Okay, you get the point. It’s a funny fucking episode. But I think what sets it apart from the rest of the show is it manages to stay really funny while also keeping the stakes really high, and I think that’s why it’s my favorite. And, to illustrate my point, here’s my absolute favorite part of the episode, and this one’s not one of the funny parts (except “I used to be Carl” that was funny but shhhh)

I think it’s pretty freaking obvious throughout the show that Perry is always two seconds away from strangling Monogram, and that OWCA pisses him off to no end. But it’s still his home. It’s been his home presumably his entire life -- since before the Flynn-Fletchers adopted him and everything. It’s been around since long before he was born, and you have to assume he’d always thought it would outlive him by centuries. If anything went wrong, OWCA would be there, no matter what. He just watched the downfall of his entire organization in the midst of a literal apocalypse.

But it gets worse. OWCA has withstood years and years of fighting evil and poor management. it was probably stronger than anything else. If OWCA couldn’t withstand the zombie apocalypse, what were the odds that Perry could? What were the odds that the kids could? He had to be petrified, and I’m sure anyone else would have given up, but he doesn’t. He sets out looking for Phineas and Ferb, determined to help them make it through this if it’s the last thing he does. 

[themarvellouswriter]

MOB! SEBASTIAN x TALL! READER

PART II OF THE MASTERPIECE SERIES

Warnings: Nothing yet, Y/N is a bad-ass and she doesn’t take anyone’s nonsense. Slight swearing? Does referring to a stupid pair of buttocks count as swearing?

Word Count: 1.9k

Genres: Fluff, angst and a lil’ romance

Notes: The story has officially started! Now we’ll be seeing a lot more of Sebastian’s and the reader’s interactions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ugh,” you groaned as you opened your eyes. The sheets underneath your palms were smooth. Your vision swam as the room came into focus. A pastel coloured ceiling greeted you. You blinked several times trying to recall the events of the night before. A flash of panic went through you as you sat up with a start. “Veronica!” You gasped as you got to your feet. The room began to spin. You clutched the bed for support. Sinking down on your knees, you started taking deep breaths. Shakily, you stood up, using the bed for support. You looked around the room, assessing your surroundings for the first time. The room was fairly well furnished with a glass wall to your left and two doors to your right. “Unbelievable,” you muttered. “I let a pair of idiots kidnap me while saving the life of a baker. Why?” You tried the closest one. It gave way and swung outwards. “I am the maid of honor at a wedding! I refuse to stay kidnapped.”

Quietly, you made your way outside. You found yourself at the end of a long hallway. You looked around, there were three doors and a flight of stairs. Ignoring the doors, you went down to the ground floor. The entryway was deserted. Stifling down the pit in your stomach, you headed for the front door. You had just turned the handle when the door opened and you were greeted by a familiar face.

Your eyes met blue grey ones. “Sebastian?” His name rolled easily off your tongue. He grinned. But it wasn’t a soft like the one you’d seen in the pub yesterday. This one was showed thinly veiled irritation. “Mystery girl. Lovely to see you again. Now,” he stated coolly and gripped your elbow roughly. “Lets go upstairs for a nice chat, shall we?” “What? No! Let me go.” “See, if you hadn’t interrupted my boys in their business last night, you wouldn’t be here. Instead you would’ve been safe at home.” Your heart thudded loudly in your chest. “Wait, your boys? Your boys were beating up my neighbour in the middle of the night! What did you expect me to do? Watch and enjoy?” You tugged your arm out of his grip. Poking your finger in his chest, “Nobody beats up my friends and gets away with it.” “Beat up? I’m sorry love, we don’t ‘beat up’ people. We kill. Your neighbour, Veronica, knew what she was getting into. And since she outlived her usefulness.” Sebastian made a vague gesture with his hands. You felt the air get knocked out of you. “You killed her?” “Me? Why I never! My people did.” He took a step forward. “Why?” Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What did she do that was so bad that you couldn’t leave her alone?” He gave you the once over. You were at eye level with him, your arms crossed over your chest. You were still in your pyjamas as compared to Sebastian’s crisp, cobalt blue suit. ‘He prefers blue suits.’ You filed this little fact away.

He took a step forward and you instinctively moved in the opposite direction. Your back hit the railing of the stairs. “None of your business.” You stared at him, wide eyed. “I’m a witness, aren’t I? You’re gonna keep me here and then what?” “Aren’t you a smart one? Yes, you’re a witness. I can’t have you running around to the cops now can I? Telling them stories about who you saw beating up your neighbour. So, I’m going to keep you here, at least for a while.” “Till when? Till I outlive my usefulness?” You asked bitterly, not backing down. “Be a good girl and you’ll last longer,” he answered, patting your shoulder. You gave him a dirty look. “I’ll cooperate. On two conditions.” “Darling, I don’t think that you’re in a position to be making any demands right now.” “Please, if you wanted me dead, I would have been by now. You want me for some other reason and so yes, I do think I can make some demands right now.” You stood up to your full height and squared your shoulders. Sebastian watched you carefully. “If your demands are reasonable enough, then I’ll think about it.” You raised an eyebrow but went on, “Firstly, I need a lot of things from my place. The final submission for my thesis is coming up and I need to add finishing touches to the thing. Secondly, the rehearsal dinner for my best friend’s wedding is this Friday and the wedding the next day. So, I need some free, not – your – prisoner, time on both days. These two things are my immediate concerns, other than that I really don’t care what you do or where I stay. As long as my work gets done.” He stared at you. “Do you not get the concept of kidnapping?” “I do. I just don’t happen to care very much for it.” His gaze didn’t waver, you returned it with the same intensity. He let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to your place so you can get your things. But after breakfast. Come, you must be starving. I know you didn’t have much dinner last night.” He led you by the elbow, this time gently, to the kitchen. 

You stared dumbfounded at his back, his muscles flexing underneath his suit. How can one person switch personalities so fast? He pulled out a chair at the kitchen island for you. You sat down slowly. Cupping your chin in your hands, you watched him as he moved with practiced ease. “For this -” He waved his spatula between you, “Companionship thing to work, I’m gonna need your name.” “Y/N Winchester.” “Huh.” “What?” “It suits you. Really well.” “Well… Thanks,” you finished lamely. “So, how do you like your pancakes?” “With maple syrup, please.” He grinned. “And ice – cream?” “If you have some.” “Of course! It’s my favourite.” You gave him a polite smile.

“Why are you -” “Why aren’t -” You both began at the same time. He laughed and you saw the semblance between the man who flirted with you last night and the man you was making you breakfast (after kidnapping you for being a witness to a murder, kind of witness to a kind of murder). “You first,” you said gracefully. “Why aren’t you screaming bloody murder at me right now? I mean, I just kidnapped you. Not to mention I admitted to murder out loud. How are you not freaking out?” He pushed a plate in front of you with a generous amount of syrup. “Well,” you began after taking a bite. “Well, you haven’t tried anything.” You paused. “Yet,” you added as an afterthought. “And I guess, I’m not that scared of you? I dunno. Maybe I get kidnapped every other day and this is no big deal. You never know.” You took another bite and almost moaned at the taste. “This is good stuff. You have a future in pancake making. Pancaking? Is that a thing?” Sebastian settled down with a plate of his own, opposite to you. “Funny you should mention that. Its one of my hidden talents.” “And do you have many of those? Hidden talents, I mean?” He just smiled enigmatically and continued eating. “Your turn, what were you gonna ask?” You looked at him. His lips were glossy with syrup and you imagined yourself kissing them. Quickly as the thought had come, you pushed it away. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Y/N. Do not develop Stockholm Syndrome for the pretty kidnapper. Absolutely not. Doing this is peak dumb-ass.’  “Why are you giving me breakfast? Aren’t I your prisoner? Aren’t you supposed to be dark and threatening and breaking my bones?” “Do you want me to threaten you and break your bones?” “Well, no. Of course not. It’s just that the idea of a fairly nice kidnapper feels a bit like an oxymoron.” “Just because you aren’t allowed out of the house without permission doesn’t mean I’m gonna treat you like some sort of animal. Besides, I don’t want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours.”

You nearly choked on your food at the sudden flirtation. “Why are you surprised? You’re beautiful and obviously smart. I’m surprised you’re not used to the constant flirting.” You swallowed. ‘There goes that plan for not having the hots for the pretty kidnapper.’ “Its usually me doing the flirting. Its quite rare for me to find myself as the object of someone’s affections. Most people just run away from the height.” He looked at you thoughtfully. “I can’t speak for most people but I find your height and confidence quite attractive.” You shrugged noncommittally. “I’m used to people being intimated by this.” You gestured at yourself with your free hand. ‘Your kidnapper basically said he has the hots for you. Play it cool Y/N, no letting anyone in your pyjamas. He’s just trying to distract you.’ “Well, I’m not intimated by someone who resembles a baby poodle as much as you do, love.” Your heart jumped at the sudden term of endearment. Flustered, you ducked your head and continued eating. ‘How pathetic is this? Getting all hot and bothered just because someone complimented you. You know not to trust your kidnappers. Cause if they were sane people, they would’ve asked you out on a date and not kidnapped you in the first place.’ The two of you finished the rest of your meal quietly.

Getting up from the island, you headed to wash your plate. “Here, let me. I’ll wash. You dry,” came Sebastian’s soft voice from behind you. He handed you the plates after washing and you dried them dutifully. “Now, to your place?” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re coming with me?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I’m not going to let you go alone if that’s what you mean.” “Aren’t you going to send your boys?” Exaggerating the last words by using air quotes. “I fear that you’re a greater threat to my men than they are to you.” You grinned impishly. “Is it just that you think I’m dangerous or that you want to spend more time with me?” He returned your smile with one of his own, “Why not both?” You laughed. “Good one, Mr. Kidnapper.” “Its Stan. Sebastian Stan.” His name rolled of his tongue, a light accent peeking through. ‘Adorable.’ “You’re weird, Sebastian. What kind of kidnapper are you?” “One of a kind.” You liked the way his name felt on your tongue, warm and familiar. “At this rate, I’ll be a not – kidnapped person by tomorrow.” “Yeah, I doubt it. I like you, just not enough to get you go. Remember why you’re here. And no funny business once we’re at your place, okay?” “Yes sir!” You gave him a mock salute as you followed him outside. On the way to his car, you spotted several armed men scattered throughout the compound. Making a mental note in your brain under ‘Ways to fail escape’, you sat inside his car wordlessly and then you were off. 

[extreme-technicality]

does talking to an anon help about ninjago help? cuz I'm down

DHDKCKGSC YES IT DOES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OFFERING YOUR SERVICES

Okay now that I know I won’t be clogging people’s dashes buckle the fuck in my dude and I should stress that I literally would not be talking about this as much as I will be if I didn’t genuinely enjoy the show. I’m gonna go season by season and just Rant

S1 has the serpentine as the bbeg and like, as far as villains go they’re p lit. They’re early enough that they haven’t been done to hell, things are fresh, the characters and dynamics are being fleshed out, and all in all s1 is a pretty solid season. There’s some fuckery that gets brought up re: how the FUCK aging works and what the actual timeline of Ninjago is and how Wu and Garmadon fit into that timeline, fuckery that LITERALLY NEVER GETS RESOLVED IN A SATISFYING WAY BC ITS REVEALED IN A LATER SEASON (s8, dw we’ll get there lmao) THAT THE ONLY REASON THE FIRST SPINJITSU MASTER, WU, AND GARMADON LIVED AS LONG AS THEY DID IS CUZ THEYRE BASICALLY DEMIGODS AND ITS IMPLIED THAT LLOYD WILL ALSO LIVE FOR A LONG ASS TIME WHICH MEANS ONE DAY HES GONNA OUTLIVE ALL HIS FRIENDS AND EVERYONE HE EVER LOVED WHICH IS A FUN THING TO THINK ABOUT AT NIGHT But anyway I digress, s1 also coincidentally introduces Lloyd (he wasn’t in the pilot episodes that set up the rest of the series) and the existence of Evil Dad Garmadon.

S2 is where Garmadon starts acting a lot more Evil and a lot less Dad. He’s the main antagonist for that season, and I actually read somewhere that the show was originally slated to end after s2 which high key explains the fuckery of literally every single season after this lmaooooo. Much like s1, I really can’t find much to complain about, the first two seasons are pretty decent as far as I can remember

Season. Fucking. Three. Where the fuck do I start??? I hate season three for entirely personal reasons revolving around the STUPID GODDAMN ROMANCE WRITING. okay lemme back up and explain a thing first so, Jay is dating Nya and they’re fine, they’re going steady, aND THEN????? THE BEGINNING OF THE SEASON INTRODUCES BULLSHIT LOVE TRIANGLE FUCKERY FOR ZERO GODDAMN REASON, BITCH I HATE LOVE TRIANGLES AND I HATE THEM EVEN MORE WHEN THEYRE DONE FOR NO GODDAMN REASON!!! AND THEN. AS IF THAT WERENT ENOUGH. THEY SHOEHORNED A ROBOT ROMANCE BETWEEN ZANE AND PIXAL AND I KNOW I RANTED ABOUT THIS A LITTLE BIT WHEN I WAS ACTUALLY WATCHING BUT I DIDNT GO INTO ENOUGH DETAIL!!!! THEY MADE THE OTHER NINJA OOC IN ORDER TO PROP UP THEIR SHIP!!!!!! AND AT ONE POINT ZANE GOES “its like we were…made for each other” AND I HAD TO FUCUCJDHVE I HAD TO SCREAM INTO A PILLOW BRO, IM SO TIRED!!!! NO THE FUCK YOU WERENT!!!!!! YOU WERE MADE FOR YOU AND PIXAL WAS MADE FOR PIXAL AND IF YALLS WANNA BANG BOLTS THATS FINE BUT DONT IMPLY THAT EITHER OF YOU WERE MADE INCOMPLETE!!!! THATS AN INSULT TO YOUR MAKERS AND YOURSELVES, MOVE ON, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. anyway that season also killed Zane (for the first time, but not the last) (spoiler alert lmao) and like, not to be an emotional little shit but I did cry a bit at his funeral.

S4 is honestly one of my favorites, even though the romance crimes continue (the love triangle bullshit is continuing and honestly I maintain that Cole, Nya, and Jay should all have gotten together and in my personal canon they DID, and also Kai has a forced romance) the VILLAIN makes up for it imo. He’s campy!! He’s funny!! He’s a clown!! He’s serious enough that if he says “I’m gonna kill you” HE MEANS IT and that’s so fucking refreshing!!!! S4 is honestly 8/10 just for the villain alone, don’t like that it retconned the SHIT out of the elemental masters and how many different elements there are TO master but eh, it’s ninjago, shit is stupid.

S5 was…interesting? OH WAIT I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT S3 INTRODUCED A GARMADON WHO WAS A LOT LESS EVIL AND A LOT MORE DAD, HONESTLY I THOUGHT IT TOOK A LOT OF THE FLAVOR OUT BUT THATS JUST ME LMAOOO. anyway s5 killed Garmadon, and I was a little sad cuz I like him okay??? I just think he’s NEAT, he’s got big dad energy, he was teaching Lloyd some shit that just got DROPPED and literally was never brought up again which is honestly a theme in Ninjago. Ninjago drinking game: take a shot every time they introduce a plot point or ability and drop it at or before the end of the season. WHICH THEY ALSO DID IN S5 WITH A DIFFERENT POWER ACTUALLY, so all the ninja are masters of Spinjitsu right, well s5 introduced the concept of Airjitsu which only Spinjitsu masters can learn and it lets them FLY and they used that for seasons 5 and 6 and then they nEVER BROUGHT IT UP AGAIN EVEN THOUGH IT WOULDVE COME IN HANDY FOR S E V E R A L DIFFERENT SITUATIONS ACROSS THE SEASONS, ONE OF THEM WOULD BE FALLING TO THEIR DOOM AND MY ASS WOULD BE YELLING “YOU CAN FLY, DUMBASS” - anyway, they do that again later lmao it’s fine. But what’s low key NOT fine is they made Nya the WATER NINJA!!! Like I’m not mad she has powers, except I kinda am, she was doing just fine as Samurai X and honestly the only reason she has super special ninja powers is for plot reasons. Also Cole got turned into a ghost, but by s7 he’s????? No longer a ghost????????? And that’s NEVER addressed or reasoned away, so like. Cool lmao

S6 didn’t happen. Like, canonically, s6 ends with wish fuckery that undoes the entire season and none of the characters remember anything that happened except Jay and Nya because S6 is the season where they get back together so they remember all those events for???? Feelings reasons?????? Unclear, moving on. The actual bbeg for S6 was a djinn with a vaguely Spanish accent, and to this DAY I don’t know why they made him have a SPANISH accent. Djinn are Arabic, not Spanish!! They’re not central or South American, either!!!! Your villain design makes no sense, do better

S7 had MORE time fuckery, and retconned what happened to Kai and Nya’s parents and hmmmhmhmhmhmhm that makes me Upsetti Spaghetti :3 not just the retconning, but the fact that they LITERALLY brought them back oNLY TO NEVER MENTION THEM AGAIN!!!!!! LITERALLY!!!!!!!! Okay so at the VERY very beginning, like pilot episodes beginning, Kai talks about their dad like he died/left fairly recently, BUT s7 contradicts that and claims that both of their parents were essentially abducted when Kai and Nya were little kids, which makes me question what in the fresh fuck two little kids were doing for all those years alone. SETTING THAT ASIDE FOR A HOT SECOND, their parents were also apparently good friends of Wu’s and old war buddies (from the Serpentine wars, which is YET ANOTHER bit of the timeline that doesn’t quite add up but honestly I could make a whole other post about that shit). But if they were such good fucking friends, why didn’t Wu check in every now and again??? What the fuck was Wu doing that was so fucking important that he couldn’t have been assed to visit his friends ONCE in like TEN MOTHERFUCKING YEARS and realize “oh shit, they’re not here and there are two tiny children running around unsupervised…My Kids Now : )” LIKE????? WU YOU LOW KEY SHOULDA LOOKED OUT FOR YOUR FRIENDS’ KIDS BETTER, THEY COULDA DIED BRO!!! Uhhhh the time fuckery also results in Wu getting yeeted ahead in time a bit and the ninja gotta find him

Season. Eight. I have…mixed feelings about this one. The beginning absolutely SLAUGHTERED me, and not in a “this is so fucking funny” way. No, the beginning made me feel like I was being flayed alive with just about every episode because Ninjago was back on its forced romance bullshit and this time it was Lloyd’s turn on the chopping block. That hurt my soul cuz like, look at that mans color scheme, he’s CLEARLY alloaro, why are you forcing romance on my aro man, why would you hurt me like that, BUT ALSO BECAUSE HE AND THE GIRL HE WAS BEING SET UP WITH HAD A LITTLE HEART TO HEART REALLY EARLY ON AND IT WAS THE MOST QUEER CODED SHIT!!!! IT DEADASS READ AS A CONVERSATION BETWEEN AN OUT AND PROUD QUEER AND A CLOSETED QUEER AND THEY MADE!!! IT!!!!! STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!! The only thing that kept me watching at first was wanting to find Wu, and then I started enjoying myself once Cole found a plot-relevant baby and had fatherhood thrust upon him. Everything went from “ehhhhh” to “holy shit this FUCKS” once it was revealed that Rumi (Lloyd’s love interest) wAS PLAYING HIM THE WHOLE TIME AND WAS EVIL AND HAD AN EVIL GIRLFRIEND!!!!!! LITERALLY IMPROVED EVERYTHING ABOUT THE SEASON FOR ME, I COULD EVEN FORGIVE THE WHOLE “let’s resurrect Garmadon, but as evil as possible” BULLSHIT!!!!!!

S9 is a continuation of s8, Garmadon is back and 1000% Evil, 10% Dad, but none of the Dad energies is directed at Lloyd - it’s all directed at Rumi, and honestly I could write a whole ass post on just RUMI cuz that’s honestly my DAUGHTER and I LOVE HER and I’m MAD SHE DIES AT THE END OF THIS SEASON!!!! SHE DESERVED THERAPY AND TO LIVE WITH HER GF AND MAYBE SOME CRIME. AS A TREAT. RUMI DESERVED BETTER AND LOW KEY IM GONNA WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT, BUT ANYWAY WHERE WAS I

Ah right, so s9 has the four major Ninja stuck in the original dimension with no way home, while Lloyd has no powers (cuz he almost died last season) and has to somehow lead a resistance against Garmadon (who has taken control of Ninjago City and is working on the rest of Ninjago). Actually, s9 is pretty cool. Like, the end of s8 and into s9 are low key my favorite episodes, and I kinda wanna rewatch them now -

S10 is a FUN one. Garmadon got got last season, but he didn’t DIE, so he’s in cold storage and now there’s Another Threat and he’s the only one who knows wtf they’re up against so they let him out and he works with them. The funny part is, he is still Very Much Evil and doesn’t quite Get emotions like he did when he was, uh, human lmao, sO HE WOKE UP EVERY DAY DURING THAT SEASON AND DECIDED TO CAUSE PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE. IT WAS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING SHIT. 1000000/10 MY FAVORITE GARMADON, he ended that season by literally fucking off into Ninjago and they never decided to track him down 😭😭😭😭😭and I’m so SAD about it dude

S11 has another Serpentine as the bbeg, though in the setup to that they retconned how the fucking Serpentine tribes and history work??? I think???? Also Wu was a good 150% angrier and generally Done with the ninja’s shit, which was honestly refreshing tho I’m not quite sure I liked what the refreshed view was, but whatever lmao. S11 also had the ninja get yeeted to the dimension farthest from Ninjago, and honestly - okay, so they didn’t all go at the same TIME, Zane left about a week or two before the others did but there was time dilation fuckery afoot which I’m not too mad about cuz low key it makes sense. What I AM mad about is that they didn’t play the angst up to its full POTENTIAL!!!!!! Zane was EVIL in the other dimension!!!! Okay so I’m Ninjago he was only gone for maybe a week or two, but DECADES had passed in the other one, and all that time Zane was alone and disconnected from everyone he knew and loved, with a staff that boosted his power while slowly corrupting him and Turning Him Evil to help him, and like???? The thought of Zane trying to find a way home, trying to get SOME sort of message back, while he has to use the staff more and more to help him survive the long, lonely decades, so that by the time his family DOES show up its too late??? BRO. B R O. THAT JUST HITS DIFFERENT, BUT NINJAGO DIDNT DO THAT!!! THEY MADE HIM EVIL DUE TO MEMORY WIPE!!!!!! MEMORY WIPE IS BABY SHIT COMPARED TO A LONG, SLOW CORRUPTION!!!!!!

S12 was alright. It went into Cole’s mom, touched on some of the adventures she had had, threatened another forced romance (this time on poor Cole, just leave my mans ALONE) but thankfully didn’t follow through this time, introduced cool new powers that honestly hasn’t been elaborated on since that’s the most recent season I think lmao

Anyway thanks for reading and letting me rant!!!! I have,,So Much More I could talk about, PLEASE ask me about Rumi, some of my headcanons re: Garmadon and Wu’s dynamic, the Serpentine, my top five times they butchered Kai’s character for Plot Reasons, or anything else I brought up here that you want me to elaborate on!!!

[lucatorahaven]

vampire au post

4 skype convos haphazardly mixed in from very different times

[29/11/2014 4:27:51 AM] Probably Not Assorted Cheeses: Vampire au

Lucas the incompetent vampire who eats mostly animals

Duster was the one who bit him, only bc duster was literally starving n lucas came at a bad time

idk if duster should be born a vampire or not but Wes is one too and together they taught lucas how to survive.

however eventually they had to leave, they offered for lucas to join them but lucas can’t leave his family behind, the kid’s too sentimental :’(

so together they staged his death (which im too lazy to try n think of)

claus knew bout the vampire thing tho, lucas couldn’t live alone like that. He also ended up biting Boney in an accident so hey vampire dog.

claus grew up and eventually had his own family. Lucas could only really watch from afar but then the kids got his age and it was hard to see him and keep the gig up. He visited his parents funeral anonymously and afterwards him and claus stood there just

“sup” “how’re the kids” “twice your age and with kids of their own” “heh, i always thought you would be the one with kids yano?” 

it was very bittersweet, it felt like they’ve never been apart 

“it never stops feeling strange without you” "I know” 

lucas thinks of that conversation a lot

he started off the "younger uncle" then the "weird neighbourhood kid that visits grandpa claus" and inevitably the "weird kid from nowhere who goes to the cemetary every other month to put flowers on graves older than appears to be"

SO without attachments lucas traveled with boney, hoping that they find duster along the way.

eventually lucas comes back to tazmilly but it’s been a couple hundred years now and it’s completely different so he doesn’t recognize it

n lucas one day is caught outside with no shelter, it’s almost morning so he runs into osohe (which is way outta town so he assumed it was abandoned)

vampires can’t enter homes without being invited in because apparently homes are holy land but osohe is fuckn haunted so that doesn’t apply (adding on to the abandoned theory)

that’s how kumatora and him meet, she finds him exploring osohe all “wtf the fuck who are YOU...this me house”

So she gets an awkward lie explanation from lucas 

n she eventually catches on lucas is a vampire n is just DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE I NEVER MET A VAMPIRE BEFORE FUCKN SWEET

lucas is just UM.;;; IS IT OK IF I STAY

"oh dude it's cool!! but u gotta tell me bout yourself bc i never met a vampire before ok?? i live iN THE PERFECT GOTHIC HOME BUT THERE’S NONE!! but here you are and i’m JACKED i gotta go to work tho so brb but afterwards u gotta tell me about yourself ok CYA"

lucas is still processing everything by the time she leaves, but he’s grateful and figures a conversation is the least he can do to repay her

in this au kumatora’s into cryptology bc her house is FULL of books and it’s a common subject (also the fact her castle is filled with ghosts and there are zombies just across the moat, it’s a p convenient hobby)

when she comes back she’s super excited because he’s still there 

lucas is kinda reserved but he still answers questions bc it’s POLITE

she asks bout p much everything?? “HEY do you need that” “y-yes” “is this true?” “not that i know of” “ok experiment time” “uH;;” “wait am i keeping you up?? it’s still daytime” “no it’s okay” 

after exhausting lucas of all his Vampire Facts kuma invites lucas to live at osohe castle, it’s big enough anyways

lucas is wary af bc he doesn't wanna accidentally get close to someone who 1. has a life span and 2. is technically food

but lucas ends up sticking around anyways, boney really likes it and he lowkey enjoys her company

so they keep chillin n lucas tells her how he hunts animals n how he only takes a bit of blood so they don't die and 

IDK I GO BY THE THEORY THAT VAMPIRES HAVE VENOM bc otherwise their entire food source becomes COMPETITION n they can bite but not?? TURN THEM INTO ANYTHIng so controlled blood flow for feeding purposes

also vampires only need to eat once or twice a month? they die around 6+ months without eating from starvation. It all depends on how quickly the blood cells in their body die basically.

ALSO when they bite you it doesn’t hurt bc their saliva numbs it so (sneaky bites) but it still feels weird as shit

bUT YA SO LUCAS N KUMATORA CHAt a whole bunch...you know that “accidentally get close” thing i mentioned? it happened

(it was kinda hard to avoid when the first companion you have that’s not your dog is informed on vampires and vampire goods, that was convenient)

so they keep hangin out and kumatora unlocks his Tragic Backstory

n sometimes kumatora helps him feed? like they go out together finding animals n storing blood

n lucas is fascinated with how technology has advanced bc he doesn't really?? go into towns anymore but he fuckn LOVES it

n they play video games n general COOL FUNTIMES

kumatora let’s lucas borrow her labtop to occupy himself and he looks for other vampires or hints of them

(this is under the assumption that osohe can get electricity in a modern au while still being ignored / abandoned)

n when kumatora goes to work he cleans up the castle n tries to show how much hE REALLY APPRECIATES HEr

n lIKE i also go by the logic that vampires do not do the stereotypical “turn into ashes at sunlight” it is a slow progression that takes up to 12 hours until absolutely turned to a crisp 

so basically if he covers himself and wears a shit ton of sunscreen he can chill in the middle of the day for like...a hour or two

and bc kumatora's WORTH IT he visits her at work n she's all LucAS WHAT ARe yO U DoING??   

lookin like a modern goth kid......has a huge red burn on his cheek..

he blames it on how pale/blonde he is “my brother is ginger you know”

kuma gets super worried n he's all bruh it cool i have like..2 more hours until i need to go to a hospital   

n kumas jsuT I GET OFF IN 4 HOURS GO HOME

kumatora invites him to movie nights with her friends n shit

people start calling lucas kumatora's goth boyfriend “never call him that when he's around or i'll murder you”

theyre all rather cool with lucas and find his speech kinda funny?

"wow look at those teeny boppers" "GET A LOAD OF THIS GUY GOD I LOVE IT" “???????????????" kumas friends ask for lucas more all WHAT SCHOOL DOES HE GO TO WHERE DOES HE LIVE "oh he's......foreign B)"

eventually it comes up how lucas doesn’t really want to be a vampire anymore and kumatoras just “dude i can help you find a cure” bc maybe her hobby is a bit Excessive but live your dreams

but ya lucas is just?? constantly wants to visit kumatora n loves her night shifts!! visits all the time they go on hikes a lot n jusT? GETS SO FUCKIGN ATTACHED IT SCARES HIM CONSTANTLY

they sometimes fall asleep on the couch together n when he's all "wow shes so cute.." he realizes how fucking Deep he’s in this and he’s FUCKED

he tries to distance himself but he Can’t Fucking Do It (just like w/ his fam)

whenever he tries to push her away she looks so upset it kills him 

N HE'S IN SUCH A STRUGGLE BC HE'S JUST

SO HAPPY TO BE AROUND HER??????

N LIKE WHEN THEY CUDDLE N STUFF HE'S JUST SO OVERWHELMED BC oh my god heartbeats!! oh my god she's gonna die before me

n lucas really fucking feels the severity of how FUCKED he is when its her birthday n hes just

yes she's gonna age and he's gonna outlive her n they could never realistically be happy even if by some offhand chance she even RETURNS the feelings

N HE HAS TO HIDE HIS CRYING N STUFF BUT KUMATORA HAS  A 6TH FUCKN SENSE FOR DISTRESSED LUCAS SO SHE'S ALL bruh :( whats up

so he opens up to her about his feelings and anxiety and she hugs him through it, it’s kind of a shitty way to confess 

“idk if i can forgive you for deciding that i’m gonna die before you” “are you threatening murder” “that and no way death’s gonna get me, i’m pretty stubborn”

a lil while passes

“you know... i’m okay with becoming a vampire” lucas refuses bc dude.. you can’t even comprehend the weight of immortality.. what if she regrets it 

“to hell if i make my closest friend suffer because of a life span” “hah i guess that’s the same for me”

they drop the vampire topic for the time being and move on to other ones such as... mutual feelings :^)

they’re both romantically inclined i mean... lucas spent 300+ years being a hermit and kumatora had other things to do

so they take it slow, it’s p much the same as before except.. hey...now when i think “man i wanna hold their hand” i CAN

it'd also be really sad and/or cute if the ghosts in the castle some of them were lucas's family which might be why boney likes it so much but also imagine them kissin on the couch "kuma ghosts r there" "EH THEYRE JUst ghosts" ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) claus looks into the camera "after so long... finally my little brother gets some action :')"

but idk if that’s a thing bc it feels kinda weird i feel like kissin n shit wouldn't b very often bc as much as they both loVE IT 

IT'S NOT THAT GREAT FOR A VAMPIRE

YANO.... HEARTS R BEATING... NECK IS RIGHT THERE (lucas still adores it tho)

so back to the topic of Mortality

kuma gets attacked in an alley on the way home from work

n lucas finds her bc they were gonna meet up but he smelt the blood and when he does find her he just goes FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK n didn't know how to save her 

also thinking rationally is hard when OH LOOK AT ALL THAT BLOOD AHhaHA

SO HE BITES HER

he carries her body home n he spends the whole waiting process between DEAD and VAMPIRE crying just "hoyl shti please work please work" “what did i fucking dooooo” “what if i was earlier” “what if i was too late” so many anxieties

kuma wakes up and lucas transistions from panic to HAPPY PANIC OH THANK GOD

she’s really out of it bc of the process and he’s crying apologies “it’s okay you saved me” but he’s still crying, they cuddle for comfort

"hey atleast we did it NOW when i'm a hot sexy 19 yr old and not a wrinkly old lady” “kuma” “i’m tryna make light of the conversation”

so now that kumatora’s a vampire she only works night shifts until she eventually quits. They moved to a new town / whatever so it was easy to avoid having to meet someone in the daytime. facebook helped keep in touch with her friends while still letting the friendship die out.

it took kumatora a bit to get used to being a vampire. she threw up a lot at first and she didn’t like having to drink blood but she did eventually get used to it

idk if they find a cure bc idk what the cure would BE but they eventually find other vampires :^) they continued lucas’s search for duster and probably found him tbh

[misfcrtunes]

𝙱𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙷𝚄𝙼𝙰𝙽 //

IC TIME: A few days ago

PARTIES: @misfcrtunes ( Gabriel ) + @oddityinc ( Lionel ) 

SUMMARY: Lionel reveals that he found a cure for Gabriel... that Gabriel didn’t want.

WARNINGS: Mention of death, axe murderers, manipulation

Would this be an unchallenging conversation ahead of him? Absolutely not. Would he have to endure his boyfriend’s well-meant neuroticism just so his new thrall status wouldn’t be an effort made in vain? Yes, completely. Was he regretting showing up on the other’s doorstep at 10 P.M. with a box full of human things for him to look forward to like it was show-and-tell? No, actually. He thought it would all work out, somehow. Lionel knocked twice on the door and leaned on the wall, balancing the box on his hip and forcing a grin once the door opened. “Surprise! It’s me, and not some ax murderer come to try and kill you in your sleep. Do you sleep, actually?”

Gabriel never got guests  ——  he had long since wanted to make friends, seeing that he was outliving them  —— so he knew very well that this was his boyfriend visiting. He didn’t rush to the door, trying to pick up a few things around his apartment before he let the other in. “Oh, I’m glad that’s not the case” he chuckled, kissing the other on the lips gently. “No, I don’t. You should really be going to bed, kid.”

“Why do that when it’s so much fun here?” Lionel wondered, the grin losing its tightness as he actually saw Gabriel. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all. “Plus, we have much to discuss, and I even bear gifts for you. May I come in and bother you on the couch?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, opening up the door more for him to come in. “Yeah, you can stay for a bit. Then you need to go to sleep,” he insisted. “Gifts? What’s the occasion?”

Lionel whined loudly as he entered, “Come oooon, it’s not like I have school tomorrow. We should have a sleepover, though,” he said, not realizing how immature the word sounded while he busied himself by sitting cross-legged on the couch, placing the box on the floor in front of him. “Your state of being is the occasion.”

Gabriel sat down beside him after he closed the door, furrowing his brows. “State of what? You know nothing’s changed or is changing, right?”

“Oh, but that isn’t true in the slightest,” Lionel said, feeling his palms perspire as he got closer to revealing what he’d come to say. “Because I found someone who can cure you — and they agreed to do it!”

Gabriel stared blankly at the other male for a moment, trying to process what was going on. Lionel went and found someone to cure him? Instead of himself? “I didn’t ask for that. You’re the one that needs to get cured.”

Lionel took a deep breath before continuing, “Right, and I will get cured, but your situation is a lot worse than mine, so I figured we would get that sorted first!” he exclaimed, smiling although he doubted that his apparent happiness would immediately translate to Gabriel.

The happiness did not reach Gabriel, who was growing upset with the fact that his boyfriend pulled this. “Just because it’s worse  — that doesn’t mean anything. Seriously. You’re this in-between… I don’t know. You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to be human.”

“You always say how awful it is to live forever and have to kill people, though, so wouldn’t you wanna be human instead?” Lionel asked, fumbling around with his hands as the nervousness began building again.

Gabriel frowned. “Because I don’t want that for you. You shouldn’t have to go through it. I’ve already been going through it. Who did you go to for that? I can’t  — honestly, I can’t believe you.”

“I haven’t killed anyone, though, and I might still be mortal. I have it considerably easier than you do.” Lionel glanced into a corner and felt his throat go dry, “That Bellamy chick. But it doesn’t matter who does it, what matters is you get a cure!”

“Bella —— Are you fucking kidding me?” Gabriel snapped, jumping up from the couch suddenly. “Of all witches,  you go and choose her? She’s even worse than Becca! She’s psychotic!”

Lionel began chewing on his lower lip. “But she can do it, she might be the only one here actually capable of it,” he said, “And — and I didn’t do all this to upset you or anything, I did it because I want you to — to live an actual life, y’know?”

“I don’t want it. Her deals come with serious penalties, you know that? Like, what, she’ll cure me but then make me her slave for the rest of my now human life. That’s no life,” Gabriel snapped. “And guess what, I am upset. I’m pissed that you went and talked to someone without me about me.”

“Yeah, but you won’t have to be the slave because I already agreed to it!” Lionel blurted, standing up from the couch and raising his hand to where Gabriel could see the cut on his palm, which was half-healed already. “I’m — I’m sorry, I just thought it was something you wanted. It’s something you deserve.”

Gabriel grabbed Lionel’s wrist, looking at the cut to see if it was even real. Shit. “I —— Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you  ——  why would you do that? Why would you make a deal like that?!”

“Because I thought — I thought it’d make you happy,” Lionel said, making no attempts at pulling his arm away, even keeping his fingers outstretched so the wound was still presenting. “I don’t mind it, I really don’t. So what if she asks me to run errands for her? I’ve made worse deals.”

“You haven’t, El. You haven’t made worse deals. This Lafontaine bitch is a real monster. She’s not gonna just let you go, you know that, right? She’s just  ——  she’s gonna make you do all kinds of shit you don’t want to,” Gabriel replied.

“Just — try not to focus on that part, alright? I can handle it. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a total pussy,” he said, “I- I even got you this stupid box of human stuff you can have whenever you are one again. Like — like this,” Lionel ducked down and opened the box, his hands resurfacing with a bag of Sour Patch Kids and a soda, “Sour candy and Coke! And there’s other stuff too, like chocolate and energy drinks, oh, and a mirror!”

Gabriel looked at the box with a frown. “Wh  — No, El. Really. No. We can figure out how to break that bond you made with her, but I’m not going to her. I don’t need candy or mirrors or sodas.”

Lionel huffed, his arms dropping to his sides. “I’m not breaking it, and you are going to her. I’ll figure out some other way to get cured, okay? And don’t pretend like you wouldn’t pull this exact same shit if this were all reversed.”

“Fine. You know what? We’re done. I’m not going to be with you anymore, and I’m not going to let you convince me otherwise. And I’m not going to Lafontaine. You can go break that bond now, because what’s the point of it now?” Gabriel said, voice shaking as he spoke. “Who cares what I would have done or wouldn’t have?”

“No, no. You can’t just do that. I get — I get this may not have been the way you thought this would go, but it’s what you get, and I know that you want it. You can’t tell me otherwise.” Lionel said stubbornly, “I care, because you would’ve dragged me there too and you know what? I would’ve let you, even if I didn’t mind being this way. But you do.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care what you think I want. You need to leave,” Gabriel replied.

“Oh, I don’t think it. I know it. I’m not leaving until you say you’re coming with me to Bellamy.”

“Don’t make me compel you, El. I’m giving you the chance to leave on your own.”

“Do it, then. But if you make me leave you’re going to regret it, and — and for more than just one reason.”

“And what reasons, El? Is it because I’m not going to have a consistent fuck now? Because I’m no longer going to have someone to babysit?”

Visibly hurt, Lionel winced at his words and shook his head. “N-No, because — because I’ll tell everyone what I am,” he sputtered. “My camera was still running that day in the park. It filmed me biting you, it saw everything. I’ll — I’ll release the footage and everyone will know. Humans, witches, hunters. Everyone.”

Gabriel almost froze when he heard Lionel speak. The boy certainly had his way with words, didn’t he? “Why? What good does that do you?”

“None. Neither does being a witch’s slave for the rest of my life if you aren’t turned,” Lionel said. “So? What’ll it be?”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll go and do this for you. But that’s it. I don’t want to see you after that.”

This is what love was, right? There was the euphoria, the endless endorphin rush, but then there was a crashing halt where everything shattered and you felt bereft of all you ever knew. That’s what the movies taught him — what they didn’t teach him is exactly how much it would fucking hurt. “Fine. You don’t have to,” Lionel said and brushed past Gabriel, “Keep the box. You’re going to need it.”

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S2 Ep 21: Hey, It’s a Party, Lets All Get Kidnapped!

Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve worked on these. I’m back from my cross-country travels, I’ve overcome my food poisoning because of said travels, and I did like 2 Inktobers so I’m officially allowed to quit and then never do Inktober again till the end of the month so now that’s over with, lets get back to Yugioh. Thankfully, Joey is here to recap for us what has been going on so far in the show, via a phone call to his sister where he literally started off the episode saying this line.

It is episode 21, Joey has run out of excuses, and the crew has decided that now is the time to finally find their friend who definitely is being tailed by a murderer with psychic powers.

Because no one wants to ever call the cops on this show.

I can see why Yugi and Grandpa might not, since Pharaoh may have done some criminal nonsense before he reformed at the end of S1 (I mean Season Zero isn’t not NOT canon) and I can see why Joey might not because bro mentioned that he had some sort of dealing with the mini-Yakuza or something in Season Zero (I look forward to that). Tristan already thinks he is a cop so I can see why he doesn’t either. But maybe Tea should call the police. She doesn’t work at the must-be-18-to-work-here-so-it’s-probably-a-stripper-joint-after-10-PM burger place anymore, she’d be fine. Probably.

I mean they did illegally invade a country last season and was complicit in the removal of that country’s leader’s right golden eyeball so like...yeah...

But now that Yugi has the company of three people inside of his head and Kaiba alongside him--who is always communicating with Mokuba on his jacket walkie talkie (like he went out of his way to make a jacket that has solely one function because it clearly doesn’t keep him warm without those arms--and the function is to call up his little brother and complain about the people who are two feet away and can hear him complaining about them), but this means Yugi actually has more people in his 2-person party than the other crew of 4 people. Anyway, he’s certainly not lonely.

But first we gotta throw Tea’s phone around and have some comedy hijinks.

(read more under the cut)

Tea x Cell Phone giving me more energy than Tea x Yugi but that’s actually true of every teenager and their intense relationship with their phone. Accurate. Hell, it’s true of me as an adult.

I also love how they throw this phone in our face just to remind us how neither Yugi has called Tea or how Tea could easily call Kaiba AKA the guy in charge who knows where everyone is, since he’s in their High School phone book, but wtv. We gotta first sort out who’s gonna pick up Serenity from the hospital although her bandages aren’t even off yet.

We’ve already clarified how dangerous this whole tourney is, and the fact that during these finals they might be ground zero for when the world might actually stop functioning entirely, maybe don’t throw your blind sister into the mix? Girl has enough problems right now. Maybe keep her in the hospital preemptively. Y’all are probably going to end up there anyway. She can book you a reservation.

I do appreciate the Tristan stance in this shot.

Anyway, sensing that the crew might actually do something, Bakura decides to show up and make some mad insane nonsense again. Ah, our wild card, Bakura, our Charlie Kelly.

Lol What? His big master plan is to feign an injury? (I’m assuming this is fake? But he’s also sweating a whole lot? Maybe they had a fight club behind the scenes that got edited out?) But you know, if you’re gonna try to sell a broken arm then wouldn’t you want to like...wear an sling?

Wtv, we’ve already learned from last season that literally all these people are the very worst boy scouts and would absolutely die in the woods. Apparently they would also absolutely die if they had to administer actual first aid rather than vague card magic. I was kinda thinking that Marik miiiight be a better scout from all his tomb runs, but from the looks of it he’s too busy being as incompetently evil as possible to learn how to tie a simple bandage.

Nice that Bakura waited until the moment Tristan left to start being shady again. I guess that Bakura also remembers that one time that Tristan hulk-punched him so hard - in the shadow realm where mere mortals should not be able to even move - that God-Mode-Bakura passed out for like 45 minutes.

I’m a little confused at how this at all works with Marik’s plan, since it’s really not that hard to abduct Grandpa, but o well, this was the plan they went with. They ARE teens after all, and teens kind of live by the mantra of “I dunno, it seemed like a good idea at the time.” I guess it’s less complicated than making sure he watches a haunted VCR tape.

So off Grandpa goes with Bakura, meaning Gramps is probably going to be a card or some other sort of lifeless husk in a few episodes or so. It was a good run, Gramps.

Honestly, Bakura should just heavily suggest Gramps just go back to work the counter of his Super Gonna Curse You Weasley’s Wizard Wheezly’s, you know, the shop he actually owns. That shop who’s name is canonically “Turtle Game” (good name for a card shop, really gets it across. Great business decision.) And really, it’s been 2 days since he’s stayed open past 9 AM. Does he not pay rent? He seriously might not, we do not know who’s the owner of that house/shop. For all we know it’s Yugi’s Dad who is........somewhere?......

And speaking of missing people, the two most direction-less folks in the universe decided to make this show even longer when they could have easily skipped like 8 episodes if they had just crossed the street. Instead, they’re going to backtrack back to the Shamu exhibit while somehow not overhearing Bakura screaming in his British(?) accent.

Sometimes I’m impressed by all the well placed irony in this show. Here come the two God-characters of the A-team. One has the infinite reaches of technology, the other has the infinite reaches of dark magic. They can do anything except navigate a map and find their friends who are within I assume a 10-block radius.

Now I know, I know, Namu’s an actual name people actually have. Much like Mary Jane. Or AceBluntz420. But forgive me, I am from California.

Also I just went down a rabbit hole of K-pop and the only song I could find that said “tree” enough times was “tree of Sephiroth” which was a pretty good banger but not what I was going for. Again, I’m stymied by my naive, elementary level K-pop education. One day I will be a master of K-pop but I am yet just a newbie with a couple of Black Pink and BTS on my Spotify.

One day I will know enough about Kpop to know which of the songs are about romance and which are about weed but alas, I just like looking at the pretty lights and the pretty colors and the fun dancing like a newborn babe.

But anyway, couldn’t help but notice - THAT’S the name he actually chose for himself, huh?

I mean I looked it up and Namu is also a Buddhism reference in Japanese and that’s probably what the show makers were going for, but safe to say, Marik is clearly not a Buddhist. He is literally in charge of a Pharaoh cult. Well, used to be. It seems like Marik’s just out to destroy his own God. He’d be the hero in really any other anime with motives like that. Hm.

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Marik wanting to vaguely rule the world I’d probably side with him completely, lets be real. Pharaoh is kind of a huge problem. And while I do like Pharaoh now, it took me kind of a while, and if Marik showed up S1 I’d be like “Yes, finally, please kill the already dead insufferable ghost.”

So, Marik decides to become friends with Joey and Tea.

This sure was a lot of work to become friends with Joey and Tea. Did Marik not realize that if they’re also buds with a guy who is possessed by a ghost, they might have low enough standards that he doesn’t need to jump through any hoops?

Marik could have just walked up and said “hey, remember me? From class?” and these two would have been like “yeaaaah” because it’s been so long since they’ve attended that they would have had no idea that he was never enrolled.

Anyways, Pharaoh’s arrived to scream at the top of his lungs about a bomb threat at a theme park.

Bummer that Mako Tsunami finished his act and I guess went back to his home island on the back of another whale he had parked outside the theme park.

Also it says a lot about what this town goes through that Yugi, shouting about how everyone’s going to die, doesn’t seem to perturb a single member of this audience. They’re just like “shaddup, I’m looking at the large dolphin.”

The total amount of time that Marik could handle being friends with Tea and Joey : maybe about 30 seconds.

Which makes you wonder why he even bothered with this charade, but maybe he just wanted to get rid of Bakura because that guys kind of a mess.

And then just when I thought it would never ever actually happen.

It happened.

I don’t recall any era where non flip-phones had little antennae. I think this was kind of before my time. Good. Finally something on this show that I’m too young for.

Jokes on this mook for thinking he could ever crush a Nokia with his shoe. Actually impossible. I’m sure there’s Nokias that have outlived being run over by a Jeep.

Yo my payphones never had digital minute indicators on it. You can even read the numbers on the numpad? And there’s no gum lodged in the coin slot? This is not how I remember payphones.

Yo second thought, maybe those are 33 seconds and not minutes? Eh, what do I know, I’m a millennial, I don’t really remember how those awful things worked. RIP payphones, you were always spooky and the worst. Like honestly if a ghost Pharaoh would live in anything, it would be a payphone. If you ever had to use a payphone with a phone card, then you’d understand that it’s more an unsolvable puzzle than any puzzle pyramid.

And I guess that Mokuba just felt left out, so he decided to leave his brother and just wander off by himself on a rooftop where there’d be no witnesses?

Mokuba, why are you on the roof? How does everyone in Domino have roof access? And is the internet so bad in this town that you must be on a roof to get any signal?

please admire the leg wraps on this guy’s ankles. They’re like high fantasy legwarmers.

*why ever duel with cards when you can freakin fly*

WOW, KIDS SHOW. That sure is dangling a small child off a helicopter!

And like, Mokuba just hangs there for a while--no joke, he’s just hovering in the background of every shot for kicks and I’m just like...how did this kid’s show get made????? The 00′s was a different time.

This past week I’ve been watching my older brother’s 5 kids and so I’ve been watching their TV shows and youknow The Descendants 2 would have been a very different movie with edgy, rogue helicopters in it. Though I will admit Yugioh could do with a couple more dance sequences. (and Yugioh might legit have better fashion than The Descendants 2, why the hell was Cruella DeVil’s son wearing bright red baggy capri shorts to a cotillion ball? Anyway, I’m putting Descendants on my “possibly recap this later” list.)

I get that the intern who was putting this scene together might not have known about the helicopter incident in the shot right before this when they drew in these people just on the street on their cell but mannnnnnn.

I love the implication that this happens so often to children in Domino that no one freakin cares anymore.

Reminder that Kaiba refuses to believe in magic and has no idea wtf is going on. Like he knows there’s some yummy cards he wants--that’s it. He doesn’t think this is the end of the world, he doesn’t think anyone here is magic. He just thinks Yugi is a super weird kid from Spanish class who's voice keeps cracking and that Marik is some sort of weird mafia boss. He was not expecting this tourney to become kidnapping central and I mean no one could have predicted this next part either.

...

So Marik’s plan, lets just walk through it.

These two loose to Kaiba and Yugi, then these two violently pass out, Pharaoh runs over and shakes up the fat one for a little bit, and then Kaiba and Yugi go to a theme park. These two guys intentionally lost and got beat up for no reason?

And then, he sends the same people who have Already Lost back to Yugi and Kaiba, to use a different deck than the one they used the first time?

Why not use this amazing deck they had the entire time the first time? Why are all of Marik’s plans so roundabout?

I mean I guess they had to lure these two to the roof but not really actually--once you beat Yugi in a game then boom the puzzle is yours so you don’t actually have to...whatever, they’re on a roof and and it’s edgy and it’s scenic and it’s gonna get real Jack Baur on us.

oh man this workaround to “but they never actually go splat because they die before they hit the bottom” which is infinitely worse than actually just falling down.

So seeing no other solution, they decide to endanger the lives of hundreds of people and play this exploding rooftop version of Yugioh.

I mean last season we sure did go through a lot of time trying to get Kaiba off a ledge of a tall building and now he’s just...back on that ledge. Well. OK then. These kids and ledges.

Really was a line in the show that Kaiba listed the only two things these guys have done wrong and it’s like--well they used the wrong deck the first time. That was probably actually a really big thing they did wrong. Also they could have kept Pharaoh in an infinite rock-paper-scissors loop but passed up on the opportunity. TBH these guys make a lot of mistakes but we’ve been over this before, Kaiba can only remember 2 things. Weird that this has become canon, but here we are.

I guess Kaiba suddenly remembered he had a grudge.

He forgot for a few episodes, but the grudge is back. He must have written it on the back of his hand “don’t forget you hate Yugi” and then when he went to  scratch an itch was like “OMG I can’t believe it, I forgot again!”

That bean.

Anyway, next week, on Yugioh:

Does Kaiba’s helicopters get into a helicopter fight with Marik’s helicopters and keep Mokuba dangling there the entire time? Does Joey get to throw a couple mooks over his shoulder like that time he took on 18 ruffians in a warehouse or will these ruffians be too ruffian even for Jo? Will Tea, after her hearts been consumed by darkness, and she becomes a nobody or a heartless or whatever, realize that she’s dating a dark wizard this entire time so it literally doesn’t matter?

Anyways, I mentioned K-pop so here you go, a moment of happy handsome boy Zen in this overwhelming world.

[cross-roads-blues]

Deep Inside Your Mind/ ch.6

[chapter 1]  [chapter 2] [chapter 3]  [chapter 4] [chapter 5]  [chapter 7]

Notes: Sixth chapter.

Warnings: None, really.

Summary:  While on a usual hunt, Dean Winchester is hit by something. While Dean recovers, he can’t remember neither Castiel, who’s been harboring feelings for Dean for over 5 years, nor Sam Winchester, his brother, who is 💔 by such turn of events. Can Cas and Sam reverse the damage, while battling their inner demons?

Chapter: 6/7

Word Count: 10084/?

Chapter Title: Little Black Submarines

Castiel woke up to the sound of waves washing over sand. He blinked twice, then looked around at the surrounding. Above him was soft lilac sky, with a hints of saffron yellow and pacific blue in it, decorated with slight fog. The angel sat up. He was lying on cream sand, with slate blue seawater gently coming and going just below reaching his feet. The dying sunshine from setting sun was playing in the water, reflecting in a thousands of small white patches, creating an exquisite mix of blue, purple and pink in the water. The angel also came to a realisation that he couldn’t find his usual trench coat and blazer on his body. He was just wearing his pants and his white shirt. Another addition was a silver bracelet on his right wrist with Etchemin carved into it. Castiel tried to get it off, but failed, as the bracelet wouldn’t come off his hand. The angel stood up and further examined where he was. On both of his sides and behind him there were mountains, but in ten meters from him, there was a bench with someone sitting there. Castiel tried to fly out of there, but he couldn’t.

“Don’t bother trying. Skudakumooches kindly crafted the wristband that you are wearing right now and it prevents you from using your powers,” said the person on the bench and by her voice, Castiel guessed that it was Izraniel. “Honestly, a shame that Heaven ordered them killed. Such powerful creatures.”

“How do you control them?” asked Castiel, slowly approaching the bench.

Izraniel laughed. “They’re too powerful to be controlled. I made a deal with them in Purgatory. I drag them out of Purgatory if they accomplish my small tasks every now and then.”

“Was erasing Dean’s memories also a small task? And going after crossroads demons?” asked Castiel in a raised tone.

“I didn’t ask them to kill the crossroads demons! See, in their time, deals like these were done with them and now they’re just being jelly. Plus they had to find something to do and I figured that eating demons isn’t so bad of a hobby,” snapped Izraniel.

“What about Dean? You didn’t ask them to do it either?”

“Castiel…” Izraniel fell silent after saying his name. In that silence, Castiel had a chance to really look at the angel. She had big, but carefully trimmed brows, full cheek with defined cheekbones and small Roman nose. Izraniel’s vessel was beautiful, in summary.

“You have to understand,” she continued, “what I did? I did it for us.”

Castiel furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “I’m not sure I understand. I kind of just met you.”

“Dean… Dean was holding you back,” said Izraniel in a thoughtful tone, ignoring his last remark. “He… Castiel, he would’ve never been enough for you. You deserve more than him.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” Castiel shook his head and narrowed his lips.

“Castiel.” Izraniel stood up and turned around to face Castiel. “Dean was in love with you.”

And Castiel felt the world collapse. He’s been there for the creation of the human, he’s been there when humans discovered fire, he’s been there when great wars were fought, but he was never involved. He’s always been a spectator. He observed. But he became involved, the day he laid a hand on Dean in Hell. Now at first, there was nothing. But then, as Castiel spent more and more time with Winchesters, he started feeling things. And one of the feelings that he couldn’t quite a finger on was a weird sensation every time Dean walked into the room. There was also an urge to protect him from every threat. As Castiel spent more and more time with humans, he came to realise that that feeling was called love. He never said anything. Why would he? First of all, Dean never showed remotely that he was into guys. Second of all… he knew how Dean’s relationships turned out. How broken they left him when they ended. And their relationship would end sooner or later. Because the universe is against them . But Castiel never thought that Dean could also have feelings for him. The thought of him being loved by somebody in a more profound way never occurred to him. He never thought he deserved that. And he made peace with that. And then comes this bitch, he thought.

“No, he wasn’t.” Castiel gripped onto the bench, as he felt just a little bit dizzy.

“He was. And sooner or later he would’ve confessed to you, and it would make  things shaky and it would create an obligation for you to him,” said Izraniel in a caramel voice. “But now Dean is out of the picture. He doesn’t remember you, you don’t owe him anything. You can be true to yourself, again.”

“Wait. So you’re saying that you made him forget me for my sake?” Castiel felt the veins throbbing on his neck.

“Absolutely.” Izraniel narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Castiel, you’ll outlive this human. You’re gonna watch him turn to ashes, if you choose to stay by his side. And you will stay by his side, because you’re loyal like that. But it doesn’t have to be like that! Stay with someone more… eternal. Stay with me.” With these words Izraniel stood up and looked up into Castiel’s eyes.

“Izraniel-”

“Shh. Castiel, I’ve followed you for some time now, concealed by ghost witches’ magic. And every day I see you being this majestic graceful fantastic angel, and Dean… he is just not enough for you. But I am enough, Castiel!” Izraniel looked up at him through the lashes. Castiel felt his blood boiling. He pushed Izraniel away from him. He felt his strength coming back to him. Izraniel saying that Dean wasn’t enough for him somehow jogged his every feeling and Castiel regained his confidence. “How dare you say that Dean is not enough!” he yelled at her,  “He is the bravest human on this Earth, he is the most ablest hunter I’ve known, he is smart and he always gives more that he gets! He is one of the few people who are willing to give and give and give and never ask for anything in return!”

“Castiel, I can be more! Please, Castiel, I’ve loved you for so long! I followed and I hid and I observed, but I’m tired of that! I just want to be with you! And Dean, he would have been an obstacle! He would get in the way!” practically begged Izraniel, keeping steady eye contact. She tried to approach Castiel one more time, but he pushed her down to the sand.

“It ever occured to you that I don’t love you?” yelled Castiel, pointing a finger at her and somehow making it look lethal, “In fact, I just met you and I feel nothing but intense feelings of hatred towards you? Because you put Dean in a coma for 2 weeks! Because you caused him to forget everything! Because, Sam, his brother has been trying to save him to the point where he didn’t sleep for 2 weeks and was barely standing! Because you’ve hurt people I love! And I hate you! And if I had an angel blade with me I would kill you! Hell, if I had any blade I would stick it into you just to watch you bleed!”

Izraniel was half-sitting on the ground and staring wide-eyed at him. “You didn’t mean that.”

“I meant it very much! And to sum it all up-” Castiel felt a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it to continue talking, because he needed to make a statement- “I love Dean!” He exhaled loudly. “I love Dean!” he repeated with more confidence. “And you have screwed up ideas about relationships!”

Izraniel stared at him with blank eyes, as she got up from the sand.  “You love that piece of meat? That hairless ape?”

“Yes.” Castiel stepped away from her.

“But Castiel, you are so much better than that,” pleaded Izraniel, dusting her white dress.

“I’m really not,” he replied, his voice steel hard.

“Castiel… But I love you…” Izraniel’s eyes filled up with tears. “I did all of this for us… I love you...”

“I don’t. You’ve got to stop this madness, Izraniel.” Castiel faced her, his posture straight, his shoulders wide and his face stone cold.

Izraniel’s breathing got shallow and rapid. “But-”

“No buts, Izraniel. Give me back my Dean. I won’t be happy with you anyway. My heart belongs to someone else.” Castiel stared down Izraniel, with unblinking eye contact.

Izraniel’s face became flushed as her eyes darted from one side to another. Her eyebrows raised and lips twisted into one thin line, she swallowed loudly.

“Izraniel, it’s the right thing to do.” As Castiel said that, he heard a snap of fingers and everything went black.

Castiel woke up on cold ground to the sound of Sam calling out his name.

“Cas! Cas! Wake up dammit!” shouted the younger Winchester, shaking the angel by the shoulders.

Castiel flinched and squinted and slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. He raised himself on his elbows and found out that he was back in the warehouse. He looked down at his body and in relief found that both his suit blazer and his trench coat was back in place.

“What the hell…” he murmured.

“I don’t know! I woke up it was empty and then this chick drops in with you lying near her, leaves you down here, and before I could do anything, she disappears,” on one breath spat out Sam.

“She… she was in love with me, Sam.” Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

Sam blinked twice, raising his forehead. “She… uh, what?”

“She was in love with me. That’s why she took Dean’s memories,” explained Castiel, standing up.

“What’s the correlation-” Sam was cut short by his phone ringing. He took it out from his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. “It’s Dean,” he said in a surprised tone and accepted the call.

“Hey Dean,” said Sam, breathing heavily and put the phone on speaker.

“Where the hell are you, Sammy?” said the older hunter on the other end in a heavy tone.

“Uh, warehouse, 20 minutes out of town,” replied the younger brother, with a hint of worry in his voice. “Dean, why are-”

“Pick me up at the hospital in ten minutes. Let’s go home.”

“Dean!” Sam quickly got out of the Impala and slammed the door behind him and rushed to Dean, who was standing in front of the entry to the hospital. “Did you- did you remember?” Sam grabbed his brother by shoulders.

Dean nodded, with his eyes just a little bit wet. “Everything.” The brothers hugged tightly, both not saying anything else. They just stood there for at least a minute before letting go.

“Cas!” Dean noticed the angel approaching them from the car. He ran to the angel. “I’m so sorry.” He hugged the angel tight, feeling the familiar scent of Castiel’s trench coat. “I’m so sorry for the things I said back at the hospital. I’m so sorry, man.”

Castiel didn’t reply anything, but just hugged Dean tighter. “Let’s go home,” murmured the angel, feeling Dean’s warmness in his arms. “Let’s go home.”

[chapter 1]  [chapter 2] [chapter 3]  [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 7]

[jojotier]

Part 8 kira gets bored and starts putting on a sock puppet show for himself with killer queen, then gets walked in on by josefumi

(haha now here’s the funny bit about this drabble- I actually haven’t read up to part 8, and only just got done with p4 recently, but since i wanna go in order and start p5 I decided to just skim the wiki’s pages, ask some people about these guys and go for it! So here’s your part 8 Kira stuff lmao- and I apologize in advance if its ooc)

It wasn’t too often that Kira found himself in the throes of boredom- there was always something or another to be working on, and he usually was able to keep himself busy between trying to sketch out his own fingertips and general homework and familial obligations- but when he found himself there, it hit him upside the head with the force of an ambulance bashing his skull in.

No book held his attention long enough. He tried to read a little of some book he read for class a couple years ago, something he gave up on after reading the first line of “Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday; I can’t be sure.” at least ten times and deeming whatever absurdity that came next meaningless. Sketching was out of the question- his charcoals were all broken or far too dull, and even then he didn’t feel like dealing with the fine coal mess on his fingers or his desk.

He could tell the stern from the bow from each individual mast on a ship blindfolded and with only his sense of smell intact, but spending a couple hours hunched over a small wooden model and slowly accumulating splinters was a thought that made him internally groan. 

There was nothing holding his attention, and nothing he wanted to do. This was some kind of underrated hell, he was sure.

Kira waited for a couple moments, staring up at the ceiling on the off chance that something would be kind enough to drop in. Anything. Anyone at all. He was going to regret the latter thought later on, sure- but in the midst of everpresent, gnawing boredom eating away at him, even social interaction was seeming like an attractive option. Sure, he wasn’t about to seek it out himself, since that would mean actually dealing with people, but. Kira wouldn’t mind Kyo popping in to sit on his bed and talk at him, or even for that brat Josefumi to breeze through.

When nothing happened, he stared a little more vehemently at the ceiling and waited for a moment longer. When it became clear that nothing was going to happen except for the buzzing need to find something to do under his skin, Kira sighed and sat up and oh hello there. 

Killer Queen had come out on its own. He thought that maybe he should be a little more startled by this fact than he actually was, but from what he understood, Killer Queen just kind of did what she wanted. Right then she floated somewhat above the bed, looking down at him with an impassive face. They stared at each other for a few moments longer before Killer Queen went off and started rifling through Kira’s drawers.

This again, huh. Kira sighed, but didn’t really have the energy to tell her to stop. She had a small tendency to try and bring Kira a multitude of things that he didn’t even realize were in the house, from cigarettes (which he didn’t smoke-  the nicotine would stain his nails something fierce and he cared too terribly about them to do that) to an outdated radio that only blared one morning broadcast from the summer of 1999. Where had they even had that radio in this house? Kira didn’t know. And for right then, he didn’t particularly care- at least this was giving him something to do other than count the pockmarks in the plaster above him.

Then, Killer Queen came back over with a couple ratty old pieces of cloth in its hands. The stand shoved them insistently into Kira’s front, and Kira had no choice but to take them. He held one up, and he could make out one button eye still sewn in, as well as a shoddily made sailor’s cap. The other one was more suited for piracy, and there was a third piece that fell out the pirate’s hat that looked like an old monopoly toy car. 

These old things. Kira only vaguely remembered making them with Kyo back when they were both barely old enough to run around the house without tripping over things. The sock puppets in his hands had long outlived their usefulness.

Or maybe they hadn’t really. Killer Queen looked at him expectedly, as if it knew something he was just now grasping. While Kira couldn’t remember what exactly those puppet shows had been about, he did feel that they were still fun to do, in the way that only rambunctious five year olds could make them fun for an easily amused three year old. Kira looked between the puppets, then his stand, and then got an idea.

He handed off the pirate to Killer Queen and put his own hand in the one eyed sailor puppet. He felt mildly idiotic, considering the fact that he was sixteen years old and sitting on his bed while his explosion inducing cat man of a fighting spirit floated in front of him moving the pirate puppet’s mouth slowly with calm indifference. But then again- it was still something to do. And it wasn’t as if anyone would walk in at that point, because then it would be life’s way of alleviating his boredom, and absolutely nothing could be that easy.

He kept the dialogue in his head for the most part at first, but honestly, Kira soon found himself getting somewhat into the imaginary plot that he’d cooked up for himself. The sailor puppet (”Gappy”, he’d idly named him somewhat unimaginatively because he remembered that there was a gap between the bed and the wall that he used to almost fall into every night) and his vendetta against Pirate Eye was beginning to heat up, especially with the addition of eight million yen’s worth of gold found in a rusty car at the bottom of the sea. Before he knew it, he was just caught up enough that he didn’t realize he was actually muttering to himself, or that the door slowly slid open.

“Christ, eight million yen?! I haven’t heard of that much gold since the case in Hokkaido a couple decades back…” Gappy reared back, eyes growing momentarily wide as he regained his composure, straightening up. “And I suppose you have that Ainu man on board because he can find it?”

“What other reason would I have some backwards grunt?” The pirate in front of him laughed uproariously, as if this entire thing were simply a game. “It was either him or a Matagi, and those hunters won’t say a damn word. Besides- none of those Matagis have what I have.”

There was terse silence as a thick parcel was dropped on the deck of the opposing ship. From this distance, Gappy couldn’t make out if it were regular paper in a stack thick enough to look like leather from a distance, or if it were something more sinister. He sucked in a breath, his fingers twitching towards the rifle over one shoulder. “The tattoos…!”

“That’s right! I have it now- the map that leads me to riches unrelenting! With this, I can finally do it. I can stage the coup of my dreams, and in the gathering instability, the navy will be too weak to stop my men from extorting them by the billion!”

“You’re one sick bas-”

“Kira.” Kira’s intense focus was broken by the wide eyed, incredulous stare of the sudden intruder in his room. Josefumi stood there, holding a massive venus flytrap that seemed to, for some godawful reason, be full of sharp animal like teeth. There was a long moment of silence, Kira with holding one puppet’s mouth open, Josefumi with a potted plant with the engraving “Audrey 2″ on the clay surface. Then, a wide smile broke out on Josefumi’s face.

“No.” Kira warned. “Don’t you dare.”

“Holy shit, dude-”

“Not another word, Josefumi, do you hear me-”

“I just- really??? Sock puppets??”

“Josefumi I swear to God,”

“Okay, okay.” Josefumi held up one hand placatingly, slowly stepping back. “I won’t say another word.” And he didn’t, for a good moment. Kira was slowly taking off the sock puppet, and was even about to dispel Killer Queen before Josefumi suddenly turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway at full speed, yelling at the top of his lungs. 

“KYO! KYO HOLY SHIT YOU’RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE THIS-”

“Josefumi you’re DEAD MEAT–”

[rubiesintherough]

What are each of your muses biggest fears

thank you so much for asking!   this is gonna be a   S U P E R   long list, so dropping it under a readmore! 

Aedus

So, the Phoenix’s fears mostly center around losing people… ever since his days back in Ancient Rome when he first took on his current appearance and made his first friend, there’s the constant knowledge in the back of his mind that he’s going to outlive them all. He’s going to have to say goodbye. But, that fear wasn’t as strong until after he lost Sameul… for YEARS after that battle, he tried to distance himself from mortals, because he was in so much pain, and so angry, and so afraid of losing someone else, that he didn’t want to become close to anyone. Of course, that didn’t work. He gets attached too easily. He loves humans too much to stay away from them… but, there’s always that very real dread that they’re going to die. 

Aiden

Honestly, he doesn’t have any fears. He pretty much views himself as invincible, unstoppable…  when he was younger, he did have a fear of the dark. But, that changed when he was bitten and changed. Now, he’s not scared of anything. 

Amara

Being a necromancer, she’s not scared of people dying like Aedus is… because, to her, it’s just like they’ve moved long distance. So long as their body is still there and within reach, she can call them back and have a nice conversation with them, catch up, ect.    It’s them being gone for GOOD, or coming back WRONG, that she’s afraid of. If there’s not enough of them, if their body’s too badly broken, she can’t raise them. And if they come back animalistic and violent, that means their soul is too broken to be called back, again. Whenever she’s raising someone she knows, there’s always this brief moment of fear in the back of her mind that something horrible will happen. 

Bren

The dragon isn’t necessarily   a f r a i d   of the other knights discovering what he is, but it’s definitely something he’d prefer to avoid. While he knows they wouldn’t really be able to hurt him, they’re his friends… and having them turn against him would break his heart. Other than that, there’s not much he’s scared of. 

Cesia

HUMANS. She is scared to death of humans… because of what she is, she’s been used in the past. Caught, forced to grant wishes, held against her will. She’s come to believe that any mortal she crosses paths with are greedy, and violent, and would happily bleed her silver blood dry and demand wishes. 

Cason 

He’s scared of himself. He knows he was a monster… killed just for the hell of it, tortured, turned people for laughs, burned down towns just to watch the smoke. When he was soulless, he was something out of a nightmare. And he doesn’t ever want to go back to that. And he tries to play everything off and act like he’s not affected by anything… but, the truth is, he’s so scared of reverting. He keeps a stake in his crypt, hidden in one of his trunks. Just in case. 

Cassie 

Okay, so hers are kind of conflicting. Obviously, top of the pile, she’s terrified of her dad for obvious reasons…but, the next two really don’t mesh??   On one hand, she’s so scared of the thought of being stuck working in the bar with her dad for the rest of her life. But, on the other, she’s scared of the thought of moving out and living her own life. She’s sort of become used to the abuse, as awful as that is. It’s something she knows. It hurts and it’s terrifying… but, it’s familiar. She has so little experience with anything outside of the bar’s walls. Hell, she was pulled out of highschool to work there full time. She didn’t even get to finish school. Her entire life revolves around her dad and the bar… she doesn’t know anything else. And, at this point, trying to go out and learn scares her so much more than the thought of putting up with the abuse. 

Dustin

He’s scared of moving on. Dustin is definitely not religious, so he doesn’t believe there’s anything waiting for him. But, if there is, he’s pretty certain it wouldn’t exactly be the pearly gates. And he knows ghosts tend to fade after time. There’s a good chance he’ll start forgetting and be forgotten… but, until that day comes, he doesn’t want to make that choice. He’s not really HAPPY in the park, but it’s his home, now. And he doesn’t want to leave. Especially not until he knows for sure there won’t be an express ticket downstairs waiting for him. 

Eldritch

He wouldn’t say he’s afraid, exactly… but, beings that are stronger than him tend to make the demon a little   u n e a s y. 

Eliza

Her entire world revolves around the other children… so, her biggest fears are something happening to them. Whether them being hurt, getting sick, getting lost, getting caught, or her not being able to pickpocket / earn enough to provide for them. 

Fayne

Disappointing her parents. That’s it. That’s her one fear… they’ve trained her to be scared of that more than anything. 

Isabella

Her immortality being discovered and used against her or those she cares about. That’s the biggest one, and she fights very hard to make sure that secret is kept safe. Especially considering she can’t really move elsewhere, because after every death, she wakes up right back in that same grave… 

Joseph

His only fear is not having a bottle in his hand at any given time. 

Kenna

She’s scared of getting caught. She knows her powers have got a  LOT of limits on them, so it wouldn’t be impossible for her to be taken down… and she can’t help thinking about that fact every day. 

Ksyle

Sort of hard to describe??  She’s scared of the creature she’s become, but at the same time, she’s glad for it. She’s scared of what her mother would think of her actions, but she hardly even remembers her, now, so her mother’s become more of this abstract concept than an actual person in her mind?  She’s scared of how the deaths she causes affect her, but there’s also a part of her that’s very quick to say they’re necessary and she’s doing a good thing. 

Lusca

He  IS  the thing people are scared of. And he truly does think himself powerful. So, there’s not a lot this siren is afraid of… 

Mahia

Oh… where to start?    She’s terrified of her wings being discovered. She’s terrified of being touched… no matter how badly she needs it. She’s so afraid of the Hunters and the Lab… she’s scared of disappointing the Ancestors   ( provided they even still care / know her, which is honestly another layer of fear on top of that one ).   She’s afraid her loved ones aren’t resting peacefully. She’s always so scared of being betrayed by those she allows herself to be close to… there’s always this horrible weight in her chest at the knowledge she’s no longer even human, and she had so much stripped away from her so fast, at so young. She’s scared of not being able to save people… but, she’s also scared of saving them and then they tell others about her, which would let the Hunters pinpoint where she is from the rumors, which leads back to being scared for life from them and — !   But, most of all, I think she’s scared of dying a pointless death. For YEARS, one of the only things that has kept her going / fighting was the knowledge that, if she  ‘ allowed ‘  herself to be killed, then her body would be carried back off to that horrible place, and her family’s / friends’ / neighbors’ deaths would all be in vain… all that time she’s spent surviving and struggling to keep her home’s memory alive would be worthless. Just gone in an instant. And she, for sure, wouldn’t be welcomed into the afterlife, because there would be no one to pray on her behalf… because she knows she’s going to die alone. Afraid. At least, maybe if she dies saving someone, it could be worthwhile. Maybe one final act of heroism would earn her a place in the Delphonian equivalent of heaven. But, she doesn’t even know if she believes that would work… and she’s so scared. 

Melusine

Mel doesn’t have many fears. She doesn’t really care if people find out what she is. She doesn’t mind them coming to her for wishes and help, in fact, she LOVES it. Even dying doesn’t frighten her because she just immediately gets essentially reincarnated. 

Page

Though she’d never be one to admit it, her job scares her a little bit. Even after all the ones she done / all the practice she’s had / all the times she’s done it without an issue, there’s still something inherently scary about handing over control of your body to another consciousness. While she knows she can usually wrench it back if need be, that’s not always the case. And that thought’s always in the back of her mind whenever she takes on a new case. 

Rylan

The captain’s biggest fear is his past catching up to him. He’s a wanted criminal. He goes anywhere NEAR Novis, and they’ll be on his trail like a shark after blood. There’s also a part of him that’s a little scared of himself. As much distance as he tries to put between himself and his past, he’s still a soldier. He had to force himself to be so coldhearted for so long… and sometimes, that manages to slip through, now. 

Sidphael

She’s afraid of other angels. Part of the reason she keeps an angel blade at her house, just in case they decide to try getting rid of her. 

Stellae

She’s the actual universe. She  i s   everything. Not a whole lot for her to be frightened of. 

Travis

Considering his entire job has to do with taking care of the supernatural and paranormal members of the city, there’s not a lot that rattles him anymore. If I had to pick just one thing, though… he’s really not fond of bugs. Bug-like creatures, sure. He’s helped a ton of them. But, actual bugs?? No thank you. 

Trent

LITERALLY ANYTHING BAD HAPPENING TO HIS SON.   Greyson is his life, his whole world… and Trent’s absolute worst fear, one that sometimes keeps him up all night, is the thought that someone might try to hurt him. That’s why Trent always ENSURES that his identity is kept absolutely secret.. Because if the bad guys found out who the vigilante is, they’d figure out who his son is… and his son could become a target. 

Victor

If you think this guy is scared of anything…??   Like, the only thing he’s mildly worried about is whether or not his knives are sharp enough. Even if someone were able to overpower him and kill him, I really doubt he’d be afraid. Just   ‘ oh, this sucks. oh well. ‘

Vivian

VAMPIRES. No matter how many creatures she fights, or cases she solves… she will always be deathly afraid of vampires. She’s still got the scar from her very first hunt with her dad, which was… you guessed it. A vampire. She was a kid. She thought she was going to die. She was bleeding, and terrified, and you can bet she still hasn’t completely forgiven her dad for throwing her into the deep end of the family business and leaving her to fend for herself… it’s bad enough that if she even suspects that a vampire’s the cause of trouble in a case, she will absolutely hand it off to another hunter. She REFUSES to have anything to do with them.