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#my personal beef with chiron
zeldasnotes · 2 months
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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 33
masterlist
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• People with Sun in the 8th house or aspecting Pluto might have been saved from situations because of their fathers name. For example might be threathened then the people find who your father is and apologizes.
• If you ask someone whats the worst thing someone ever said to them it will probably be something related to their Chiron placement. Because A when people touch our Chiron wound we remember it forever and B for some damn reason people seem to always touch where you have your Chiron wound bc its kinda obvious to others.
• If you have 10th house placements you have a trademark after your name, whatever you do you easily become known for it. People want to put a label on you and the themes of the planet you have there is the label thats most easily put. So when you have 10th house planets its extra important to think before you act.
• If you have Lilith conjunct North Node you need to learn to do your own thing. Ive seen people with this who didnt reach their potential until they refused to stop trying to fit in and be ”normal” . You are a class of your own. People will respond to you differently when you act like Lilith. Example: A rapper in my country have this placement in Virgo and was treated bad by other rappers bc of a beef he had on the streets and bla bla. Anyways he knew he wouldnt get collabs bc of this so he made it ”his” thing to never have a feature on his songs and to never do interviews and be on other rappers tracks. After this people started respecting him more. He used his inability to fit in to make himself look even better.
• Venus/Neptune involve their love interest in their art. A lot of rappers with this might want to have their partner on their albumcover, in their music video, paint their partner etc. Dating a man with this placement feels like being his muse.
• Be careful when you have Venus in Leo in the Solar Return Chart because this one can really make you want to SPLURGE. Especially clothes, bags and stuff that makes you look good. 💰🛒🛍️💸
• Talking to someone with a Mercury/Pluto or Mercury/Nessus placement can feel like being interrogated. Constant checking if you are lying, asking extra questions to see if you change your story, detailed questions to see if your story is true. Can be very exhausting to be around bc of this (sorry).
• Every Aquarius Rising Ive met looked better in person than on pictures. There is a striking quality that the camera have a hard time capturing. Same with Virgo and Pisces Rising.
• People with Jupiter conjunct personal planets are funnier when they are not trying than when they try to be funny.
• Nanisca the role played by Viola Davis in the movie ”Woman King” reminds me of Sun conjunct Lilith.
• People with Ceres(1) conjunct personal planets seem to not like adornment.
• Aura(1488) conjunct Mercury might come across as sneaky.
• Venus in the 8th house or Venus aspecting Pluto attracts people who would normally not want them which is why they need to be extra careful. They might be super tall and attract someone who usually only go for short people or vice versa. But because of the intense magnetism that having a plutonian venus gives everyone wants a taste of you no matter if they really WANT you or not. Be wary of who you share your energy with.
• Venus Square MC might feel like their looks and social skills doesnt match the career they want or how they want the public to see them.
• Juno(3) or Venus Square Mars are the kind of people to have a huge difference in taste when it comes to who they want to sleep with and who they see as relationship material.
• If you have Lilith in the 7th house or Lilith conjunct Venus your ex's new partners might become obsessed with you or you become obsessed with your partners ex's.
• Dejanira(157) conjunct Ascendant is probably the scariest synastry aspect Ive ever experienced. Experienced it 2 times and both times I was Ascendant and he was Dejanira. Very scary attacks. I can even look at pictures of these people.
• Mars conjunct MC can mean a lot of people are scared of you. A very intimidating placement. In a mans chart it makes other men look up to him. Women with this placement seem too struggle with this placement a lot tho since people are more likely to want to challenge a woman who comes across as intimidating.
• Scorpio Moons seem to be very fascinated with psychopaths.
• Sag Moons might have had extremely carefree parents. Thats why these people can be so good on their own, they raised themselves. But its also why they flee from issues because they were never forced to stay and solve stuff like in a normal family.
• Cancer Risings can be really intimidating, especially the eyes. Ive mistaken so many Cancer Risings for being Scorpio Risings.
• Populus(8647) conjunct Mercury might be more popular among younger people.
• Lilith in a womans chart seem to show what archetype she finds empowering and might even want to be and in a mans chart an archetype he finds fascinating. Ex. Lilith 2nd/8th: the golddigger femme fatale, black widow. Lilith 4th house: The family matriarch, Evil Stepmom. Lilith 10th house: The boss, the businesswoman, cold bitch. Lilith 7th house: The homewrecker, femme fatale, beauty queen, homecoming queen, Mr steal yo girl. (Not always ofc and mostly this goes for when you are underdeveloped)
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xanasaurusrex · 5 months
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plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,
clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)
y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.
y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.
during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.
the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.
y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.
whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.
since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.
it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.
unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.
the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.
capture the flag.
one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.
a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.
clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.
it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.
a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.
y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.
clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.
she could barely takes her eyes off her.
thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.
that would've been awkward....
when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.
strange... how things pan out....
when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.
as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.
"so, what's our game plan?"
her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.
it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.
during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.
clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.
"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.
clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.
"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.
but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.
y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"
clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.
the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.
clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.
as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.
clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.
she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.
clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.
"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.
y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.
all the air left clarisse's lungs.
with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.
neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.
this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.
unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.
clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.
for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.
the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.
once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.
y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.
y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.
"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.
clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.
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heliomanteia · 3 months
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did u delete ur latest post regarding rick giving leah a lackluster script?
Hi! Yeah, it needed rewording & more examples but if you don't mind I'll use your ask as a reason to talk about it! Annabeth is my favorite girl and I feel very passionate about how easily she could be dealt a better script.
Under read more because I go on a tangent.
I genuinely think Leah's script was mediocre at best and it's in no way the actress' fault. Many people pointed out that she's way "more Annabeth" within mediums not controlled by Richard & Co: interviews, promotional material, her personal interactions with the cast, and such.
My beef with Richard is that he very obviously "used", for the lack of a better word, Leah as some sort of a shield against any sort of criticism and then sort of really failed her - and I believe Leah to genuinely like her character & do her best.
I. I feel like there's a Lack of Annabeth in the camp scenes as an educator/guide.
Chiron wasn't alone in showing Percy around in the book, Annabeth did it with him. That's how we are first introduced to Annabeth as someone who knows so much of the Camp as she lived there so consistently. She also was the one to teach Percy Greek alongside Chiron. I feel like this positioning of her as someone with high degree of knowledge suffers greatly in the show: we aren't really shown that Annabeth is really knowledgeable, we're told that, and that's all.
II. I feel like Percy overtakes a lot of Annabeth's role as a character.
He offers exposition, explains the myths to HER in the Amusement Park episode (why is he the Wise Boy?), and overall "does her job". I wouldn't mind it as much if Annabeth was given a different archetype in return for that exchange, but she's left hollow. It's just Percy doing the thing and her trotting behind. That's... not how their dynamic works.
III. I think Leah!Annabeth is written off as a "Strong Woman" not allowed to show childlike qualities.
She is so serious and it makes her character very single-faceted. Annabeth is serious and focus-oriented, yes; but she is also silly, she is so geeky, she is adorably passionate, and she's so human. Feels like they reduced this in Leah's script by a lot and I don't get why. It would literally cost nothing to let her rant about architecture or let her passionately tell others myths.
IV. I believe her backstory is sort of forgotten about.
Many people spoke about how weird it is that she is presented as the one who needs to reach out to her neglectful dad, to do the emotional labor despite being a young neglected girl. It feels weird that it was Leah who was dealt such unfair treatment of her character.
Annabeth canonically didn't leave the camp much, she isn't familiar with the world outside; it'd be nice to see that aspect of her too. Also, her bond with Thalia is sort of there but her bond with Luke is nonexistent, it's just spoken about. Again, this strips her off so much of her humanity as a character. Without these little things showing that Annabeth can be fragile, vulnerable, sweet, funny, loving we just end up with an arrogant, angry girl. Not a good look for Richard tbh.
V. The show fails to objectively narrate Leah!Annabeth.
The Disney+ adaptation - for the abovementioned reasons - ends up presenting Annabeth to us as Percy's future love interest first and as her own character second. It wouldn't work even if it was Percy's POV because Percy sees her for the girl she is first.
VI. I think Richard fucked up the premise of the character.
Book Annabeth was one of the examples of deceitful appearances: the "dumb blonde" that actually was insanely witty. This "she's not what she appears like" trait was sort of taken away from Leah and I don't get why? I fail to believe that there are no stereotypes regarding presumed lack of intelligence that could be played off with a Black actress. Sounds like Richard and Disney didn't really think about it.
VII. I hate how she was cut out of Tartarus scenes.
That was such a BIG moment for 'beth, she was the one talking to Hades! Because Grover was scared to death and Percy was impulsive and with no filter! He doesn't know how to talk to Gods, he's been a halfblood for so little and Annabeth has been one her whole life! She's the brains, she's the negotiator. The show leaves her in the forest of regrets and sort of forgets about it after.
So, I do think that the script for her sucked bad. And the worst part is, it could be better SO easily. Leah deserved better imo.
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gracefully33 · 6 months
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How Fama Plays Apart In The Chart Pt 1
* Asteroid Fama can predict how you can blow up online or become famous
* I will also talk about the fame degrees
* Based off MY INTERPRETATION 
* I will NOT be doing a full observation but I will touch down on key points.
* Trigger warning: ABUSE, VIOLENCE, ETC.
Lisa (BlackPink)
Before Fame:
Lisa auditioned for YG when she was very young. She was the only one who passed the auditions in Thailand. When she was a trainee, there was a lot of controversy surrounding BlackPink due to the comparisons to 2ne1, being the prettier version of 2ne1, or replacing them.
Observation:
Lisa has her fama in taurus and it rules the throat aka SINGING.The 3 in numerology represents communication, MUSIC, etc.
She has her Pluto at 5 degrees in Sagittarius. The 5 in numerology represents beauty, entertainment, and other things. I really do think Lisa is a pretty girl and Sagittarius could represent the media, traveling, etc. Pluto represents transformations, gains, and other subjects her Sagittarius Pluto at 5 degree explains what she blew up so quickly.
She has her Neptune in Capricorn at 29 degrees. Neptune represents glamour, illusion, fame, etc. The reason why Neptune represents fame because fame is an illusion and it’s something that is out of the ordinary for the average person. The number 29 is a karmic degree and it represents long term fame so being famous is one of her life lessons or met to teach her a lesson. The number 29 in numerology reduces to 11 and 11 represents influence over the mass. Capricorn can represent leadership, legacy, business, etc. What I can conclude is that Lisa’s long term fame comes from being apart of the biggest and most influential Kpop girl group.
She has her north node at 28 degrees in Virgo. Virgo represents the every day life, daily routine, etc. The 28th degree presents being a household name and being very wealthy. Lisa will be a household name, extremely wealthy, and she will be remembered for her hard work.
Final Conclusion:
Blackpink will be the influence/be the standard for other kpop girl groups in the future. A lot of kpop companies will try to recreate their version of Blackpink hence the Capricorn(authority figures), Neptune(illusion, fame, glamour), 29 degrees (Long term fame). Blackpink will forever leave a huge impact on the kpop industry. Idk if there will be another kpop girl group that will be as big as them.
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Cardi B (Rapper)
Before Fame:
She was pole dancer at the club. She started to gain attention online from posting funny/comedic videos. Cardi B started to take rapping seriously when someone encouraged/pushed her to do it.
Observation (Natal):
Cardi has her Saturn in Aquarius at 11 degrees. Saturn represents restrictions, hard work, etc. Aquarius and the 11th degree presents groups of people. The 11h represents hopes/wishes, social media, etc. the 11th degree is prominent in a lot of social media influencers birth charts and Cardi started out as one. Cardi worked hard (Saturn) to achieve her dreams (11h) to be recognized for her creativity by the public (Aquarius). Cardi has caused some commotion on social media (Retrograde Saturn) and inspired other female rappers with her music videos (The 11th degree in Saturn). She has went viral for some unfortunate things (Saturn in 11h retrograde).
Cardi has a Leo Fama at 28 degrees. Fama in Leo represents gaining fame for your creativity, talents, performing, etc. The 28th degree in numerology represents wealth and in astrology it represents being a household name. Cardi b is known for being an entertainer and she has made millions/become wealthy off the rap culture. Cardi has her fama leo conjuncting her chiron. She has been known to throw microphones at people while performing, beefing with other entertainers, and more.
Observations (Persona Chart):
Cardi has her chart ruler Leo in the 1h. This means she was met to be famous for being a performer/household name (28 degrees). The sun (28 degrees) conjunct chiron (28 degrees) represents her controversies following her legacy/being famous for controversy and more.
She has a virgo fama at 25 degrees in 2H. The 2H represents the voice, possession, and more. I noticed her fama is at a mars degree and it represents rapping. A lot of rappers have their mars in their 2H, 3H, 5H, and 10H (natal and persona). She is famous for her rapping voice and known for showing off her luxuries but mainly rapping.
She has her Libra Mars at 5 degrees in the 3H. Libra presents music and also rap stands for rhythm and poetry it was made to talk about the injustices (Libra) and brutality in the black community. The Mars could represent rapping in the fama persona chart. The 3H also represents social media, communication, etc. The 5 degrees represents short term fame in astrology and beauty in numerology. Cardi B used to be online rapping and grinding to make it. She blew up here and there for her short rapping videos. Cardi is known in the media for being a fashionista/fashion icon for her outfit choices.
Conclusion:
Whether we like Cardi or not, she will be household name/famous for a long time. Cardi B was met to be controversial figure and a star. Cardi is controversial for her music videos, her music, etc. Cardi is known for being a fashion icon and out dressing people on the red carpet and more.
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Rihanna (Singer)
Before Fame:
She grew up in an abusive household and faced other hardships growing up like getting bullied in school and more. Rihanna was a teenage girl in Barbados trying to make her dreams of music come true. It happened when she discovered the producer Evan Rogers, she went on to record demos and get signed by Jay Z. She went from living in poverty to becoming a self-made billionaire.
Observation (Natal):
She has her Aries moon at 11 degrees in 1H. Aries represents aggression, competition, etc. The moon represents emotions and more. The 11th degree represents influence and rules over groups of people. Rihanna is known for expressing her emotions which has made the public gravitate to her. She is also known for her nasty clap backs and emotional outbursts on social media in the early 2010s.
She has her Capricorn MC at 11 degrees. Capricorn represents business owners/leaders and the MC represents the public image. The 11th degree represents influence and people. She is a well known business woman with a successful cosmetic line, lingerie line, and more. She has influenced other artists and is a known mogul in music.
She has her Libra fama at 24 degrees in the 7H. Libra represents beauty, relationships, music, etc. the 24th degree in astrology ruled by Pisces represents glamour, artistic expression, illusion, and more. In numerology, the 24 will be reduced to a 6 it represents home/family, friends, time, etc. The 7H represents relationships, partnerships, etc. Rihanna is also known for being beautiful, her glamour, and her music. Rihanna has done a lot of magazine covers and beauty/business sponsorships over the years. She has had a lot of iconic magazine covers and photoshoots we all know and remember. She has more than one famous beauty line that is one of the biggest in the world. The 24th degree reduced to 6 in numerology explains the fact that Rihanna is famous in her home country, she got famous for pursuing music in her home country, her friend introduced her to a well known producer (Evan Rogers), and she devoted her time to music by putting out an album almost every single year which caused a burn out. Again the 6 in numerology represents friends, time, home/family, etc.
Rihanna has her Sagittarius mars at the 28th degree in the 9H. Sagittarius represents travel and traditional media/TV. The 9H represents media like newspapers, news channels, etc. The 11h represents social media in general and groups. Mars represents drive, passion, aggression, etc. The 28th degree (numerology and natal) represents wealth and being a household name. This explains why Rihanna is heavily loved around the world and has made a name for herself.
Observation(Persona):
She has a Virgo Venus 14 degrees and the 1H. In astrology the 14th degree represents the voice, and in numerology it would be reduced to 5(1+4). The 5 in numerology represents beauty and entertainment. This explains why she is known for her music and beauty.
Also, her chart ruler is in the 2H of Libra at 12 degrees. The 12th degree in astrology represents glamour, illusion, and more. In numerology, it reduces to 3 (1+2) and it represents music. She is known for being a musician and having a voice that is different from the ordinary and unique.
In the fama persona, she has a scorpio fama at 9 degrees in 3H and it connects Pluto 11 degrees. Scorpio represents money, sex appeal, etc. The 9th degree in astrology represents travel, wisdom, etc. In numerology, it represents glamour/higher octave of Venus. Pluto represents transformations and more. The 11th degree represents influence and the 3H rules social media and communication. Rihanna is known online for her sex appeal and she was voted as one of the most beautiful women. Rihanna is taken a lot of n*de/risky photos. These placements also show Rihanna going back and forth on social media with media outlets and celebs this has caused controversy. This shows why Rihanna is one of the most followed celebs on social media.
Conclusion:
Rihanna has really set herself apart from the other stars and created lane for herself. Rihanna is a versatile artist and she has transformed her style and sound over the years. This has caused different groups of people to gravitate towards her and setting herself apart from the other girls. Rihanna will always be a household name and will continue to influence the younger girls.
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Thank you for reading❤️!
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sentient-stove · 3 years
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My Personal Beef with Chiron: An essay because I AM that bitch.
@theultimateyeeter @falling-oceans @reallydelicate-cycle  you three showed interest in this essay via contacting me or other ways, so this is for you.
To say that I have a deep hatred for Chiron is to undersell my point.  When I was thirteen, my mother gifted me a Kindle and asked what books I wanted on it, I said “Greek Myths”  because that’s what I thought Percy Jackson was called at the time.
I got the actual mythos. (even though she literally was reading the lost hero at that time and knew what i meant by greek myths. she was a bit of a bitch, but you know, it be that way.)  You know the ones, with Jason and the Argonauts, Demeter wandering the earth with Misery while in search for her daughter who had been captured by Hades, or perhaps the original Perseus, who used Medusa’s head to kill a fearsome sea creature and take Andromeda for his wife.
When I was reading this, I was introduced to Chiron, a mighty centaur who taught the heroes from the time that they were babies to adulthood, training them in everything from swordsmanship to healing.
So this is the teacher that I was expecting when I picked up my first ever copy of Percy Jackson. (In Italian I might add, we were living in Milano at the time, so I read Harry Potter and Percy Jackson in my second language before my parent tongue, but go off me.)
This was not who I got.  I got a sorry excuse of a teacher who sent literal children to die.  I got a centaur who withheld important information about demigods, which often led to serious injury.
I don’t believe that Chiron didn’t know who Percy’s father was.  He should have known the second he lay eyes on him.  The Chiron from the myths was able to tell who a demigod’s parents were from a single glance.  AND that was from over 2500 years ago.  Why wouldn’t he have more experience now?  And even if he couldn’t figure it out immanently, shouldn’t have been pretty fucking clear after Percy literally manipulated water to drag Nancy Bobofit into a fountain?  Or the fact that he gave Percy a sword that was traditionally held by a child of the big three?
And that’s not where it ends.  Chiron mentions that he practically raised Luke at camp, he of all people should have seen Luke’s betrayal from a mile away.  You cannot convince me that he doesn’t suffer from albus dumbledore syndrome, it’s practically his main affliction.   He has important information and then refuses to share it.
LIKE HIS OWN PARENTAGE.  How did not one fucking person at camp realize that his dad was Kronos?  Because he didn’t tell them and apparently he only teaches the old myths when he’s not at camp, because if you picked up a single book at camp that was the original myths, you could have found that out.  For all his preaching about needing to know modern myths, he sure isn’t great at making sure that people know.
He also refuses to give any information about the final prophecy because ‘it’s not time.’
Bullshit.  The Chiron I know would have given names and numbers for people to analyze.  He was first and foremost a teacher, destiny be damned.
Or like how easy he is to defeat in combat.  Would you want that training your kid as a mortal parent?  A centaur who’s leg got crushed because he somehow didn’t realize that an entire building was about to come down on him?  Like in the myths, Chiron was the demigod’s teacher because of his prowess in battle.
He’s pathetic and I think that he should put down his fucking pinochle game with Dionysus,  get out there and actually start teaching again.  Chiron ought to use his experience to prevent demigods from those untimely deaths that he so mourns, not help enable them.
Not to mention, the Chiron of myth sent out ADULTS on quests, ONCE he was done teaching them everything he knew.  This Chiron doesn’t tell Percy he’s a demigod until a fucking Minotaur is on his heels (even then it’s Grover who tells him)  and then he sends him on a quest with no training whatsoever. 
What the hell dude.  What the hell.  You’re not teacher, you’re a washed up mentor who needs to actually get off his horse ass and do some teaching.
stars above and seas below, I hate him so much, I could probably keep ranting, like how he clearly knew who Jason was and didn’t tell anyone, or like how he knew that the Argo 2 was bound to fail in preventing Gaia’s awakening (long story)  
If he had literally taught just a bit of the original myths to the kids he was ‘training’ they probably would have had better success rates and survival stories.
man, now im just upset even more.
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If you search "Percy Jackson analysis" on tumblr, one of the first post to appear will be about a very interesting topic. They say that with Hereos of Olympus, instead of creating a new conflict Rick Riordan undid the Last Olympian ending (the gods becoming better). Also I've always preferred the first series, because HOO has many problem. I also love the new characters, so what could Riordan possibly have wrote instead?
Then I got an Idea. STAY WITH ME PLEASE
While I was still reading the first five books, Mark of Athena was published. Being not bothered by spoilers when I was little (I don't know how) I used to go to the bookshop and read the plot written on the cover. Just from the summery and the cover art I had imagined the plot. I was sure it was gonna be something all about the two camps facing each other, having actual beef and fights. From an art cover I had also imagined some sort of games between the camp to decided who had the best demigods. BUT NOW I GOT A EVEN BETTER IDEA.
The plot in my opinion should have started with someone from camp halfblood finding camp jupiter or the romans (I like to imagine it was the Stoll brothers. It would also make sense since Herms is the good of travel and messages). During that time for some reasons Chiron is away from camp.
The demigods comes back to camp and tell everyone what they found. Here we have two options.
1. Hera makes the change BUT between Jason and Annabeth. (Not my favourite one).
2. Hera, who hates Annabeth, kidnapps Annabeth and sends her to Camp Jupiter (I don't know what to do about her memories). Meanwhile the Romans now know too about the Greeks, and they send some demigod to find CHB. Jason is on the quest, and gets kidnapped by the greeks, because they think Annabeth also got kidnapped by the romans.
Now Jason has still his memories and it's stuck at camp as an hostage (inserts funny scenes about chaotic demigods not knowing what to do with him because "they never had and hostage before". Also Jason being outraged because "You don't know who I am, I'm the preator..") . Chiron comes back and get angry at everyone, and insists to treat Jason as an human being. Jason at the beginning can't stand anyone ESPECIALLY Percy, but in the end of the book they have formed a delicate and difficult to acknowledge bond.
Know I don't know exactly how the story would proceed, but for sure Leo, Piper, Frank and Hazel stay as characters.
Changes:
1. Leo stays himself expect he doesn't fall for every girl he sees, and isn't obsessed about finding love too. Actually he doesn't really care, it's more interested in his passion as a mechanic. (Or you can make him mlm, I think it would suit him)
2. Piper has not all of that "I'm not feminine and dumb like my siblings going on". Instead she grows confidence thanks to her powers, and learns to appreciate her beauty not like something that other people sexualize her for (which is a problem that POC women ACTUALLY HAVE, WHY RIORDAN DIDN'T YOU DO THIS INSTEAD), but like a gift from her mother and a good part of her.
3. Frank doesn't get the random glow up, because in this version we teach kids that you can be a great person, having a girlfriend, and being a powerful hero even if you don't have an ideal body. (Litterally what was the point)
4. Nico is actually around and at the begging he likes to make fun of Jason with Percy (or in a second moment he appears at camp and gets what probably it's going on in reality). He's not appreciated by everyone but he learns how to not care. Also solangelo actually has a relationship building here.
5. I don't know if I would age up Hazel, or make her stay just friends with Frank, but many people would like that. For sure she would get more space because she's amazing.
6. JEYNA ACTUALLY EXISTS HERE. I don't care in what form. They can be together and being a power couples, or eventually break up and create drama. I just need this plot point to not be wasted.
7. No one falld into tartarus. Because Tartarus is a mysterious and scary element in the series. Discovering what's the big mistery ruins everything. (Or if someone like a secondary character fall in it, they die that way, end of discussion). The danger of someone falling into Tartarus is still there tho.
For the plot I don't know. I just know that at some point it would be cool to see where the demigods of Krono's army are now. Actually seeing demigods of the minor gods would be cool. The prophecy is still there but it takes more time to start. (ALSO. I don't think the seven are actually the greatest demigods around. So I think that maybe they end up being the seven after accidentally winning a sort of competition like I said before)
I would cut out the part of the statue of Athena. I don't know how but I would love to still see tha quest to Alaska (maybe with Hazel, Frank, and Jason and Percy?) and the House of Hades.
There would actually be a fight between camps, but the book ends with them team up to have the goods mentally sane again. The moral is that basically they learn to understand theri cultural differences
Basically having Gaeia as the villain isn't necessary, the villain instead should be the gods who are tied to Tarturus and the danger of the door's of death would still be there. And this would give more space for Nico in the plot
I wrote this at 3:00 AM. There are probably so many mistakes. But in my mind it was too cool to not write it down.
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the-ghost-king · 3 years
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So I'm not going to start like an Anti-Chiron tag because I don't find that enjoyable personally, but every so often people ask why I dislike him so here's essentially a "masterpost" of my thoughts on that situation for when anyone asks, just so I have it to explain some...
This isn't nearly a full list, and there's many more "incidents" that make me less than fond of Chiron, I don't hate the old man but he leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I'm not a fan of that. He's a very twisted character.
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- The Lightning Thief
This quote is literally just after Percy's mom "dies", they're all sitting on the porch of the Big House right after he's finally woken up after days of sleeping, and that's the line Chiron pulls out on him.
That's straight up emotional manipulation which was entirely unnecessary in the context of what Chiron was trying to explain. There wasn't a single reason for that, in the slightest.
Immediately following that, and Percy, who canonically has anger issues, does his best to remain calm, he is immediately threatened by Dionysus, and Chiron doesn't even tell Dionysus off for doing that; Chiron just let's it happen. It's Grover who has to speak up to tell Dionysus off...
The only reason Chiron comes out looking like a old guy in this scene is because Dionysus was so much worse in his behavior, at one point intimidating Percy with his power over madness.
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- The Titan's Curse
This is the aftermath of when Nico ran away upon confirmation of Bianca's death. When Percy is telling Chiron about the situation, Chiron wishes Nico had been eaten alive rather than recruited into an army.
He'd rather a child be dead than fight against him, and he openly tells this to other children he's in charge of. If Percy went missing would he have said "I hope he was eaten <3" as well?
I don't blame Perry for not delivering the truth here, it was done in an effort to protect Nico; which wasn't something Annabeth had planned on doing... I don't blame Annabeth for that though either, she's been beneath Chiron so long that she probably doesn't realize the shady stuff he does, and to her "going to tell" probably was the "right" move because she was a child...
But the fact that Chiron believes Nico truly would be better off eaten than alive :/
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- Tower of Nero
This quote from Tower of Nero shows that Chiron lied to a bunch of young children (most of them were young because the older campers are largely dead because of the war or too old for camp now). It wasn't just a little white lie that adults sometimes tell kids either; they were walking into battle and he told them it was a field trip.
Did he even begin to explain the danger he was putting these kids in? Did the children understand their situation? And how dangerous it was?
Kayla has been blindsided over the years into thinking that telling children they're going on a field trip instead of fighting a battle is something to make a joke of and not be questioned... (Again, I don't blame her she's only like 12 in the book, but still)
Apollo also agrees, which isn't on Chiron but it's a whole mother reason why I can't stand Rick's interpretation of Apollo...
<><><><><>
This isn't me being like "oh Chiron is the worst most evil character ever" I just think that he has numerous flaws which are largely ignored in favor of the "perfect wise teacher" narrative when in fact Chiron and Dumbledore share a lot of.. Offputting qualities.
I do think that some of the situation is simply a result of Chiron having his hands tied behind his back by the gods some. And he even goes so far as to confirm this in a scene of TLT
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However many of the scenes in which he exhibits behaviors like that in my first three screenshots are not related to anything the gods require and are, in fact, of Chiron's own free will.
Some things I would blame Zeus and the council for, such as how he withholds information from Percy to an excessive amount for long periods of time even when Percy straight up asks about things. I could easily see that being Zeus trying to prevent Percy from claiming the prophecy as his own, and I could see reasoning that maybe Chiron had sworn over the River Styx or something similar.
But those things don't apply to Chiron making such an unnecessary comment about Percy's mother so close to her "death". It doesn't explain why he would say he hoped Nico had been eaten out loud, and it doesn't cover the fact that he led children into a battlefield without telling them that's what was happening.
I think the context of Chiron's choices and comments would be different if the campers were older. If they were in their late teens or early twenties for the most part, I wouldn't really have much to say about how Chiron handled the situation.
But this man is in charge of children and extremely young teenagers, Percy is only 12 in TLT, maybe if he would have been 16 or 17 then I could give Chiron a pass, but he wasn't. Within the context of the comment he made in the Titan's Curse, Percy is only 14 and Nico is 10 at the beginning of the book... You don't wish a 10 year old had been eaten alive by a monster no matter how bad you think the alternative is, and if you do wish that you don't say it out loud to a group of other children. In the battle from Tower of Nero we get a quick look at the battlefield, and although Ben's age, and the age of another girl fighting alongside him are never confirmed they are implied to be fairly young, and we know Kayla is only 12 at the time too; yet Chiron told them it was a field trip instead of a battle, limiting the time they would have to mentally prepare themselves for what was coming.
On top of that, the nods the reader gets to the fact that Chiron can't act out against the gods depletes over the course of the series. After TLT the amount of times the situation involves the gods interfering with what Chiron is allowed to say lessens, and by the time the Heroes of Olympus series comes around, these limitations on his speech is almost entirely gone. Yet as seen in Tower of Nero he still does morally questionable things in regards to how he treats the campers.
Like I said, I recognize that in many scenes Chiron's hands are tied behind his back because of the gods.. But there are undeniably things he does of his own free will that are, in the nicest manner, very :/
This also isn't a full list of comparisons just a few notable scenes. I don't think Chiron is equally as bad as Dumbledore, but I think it undeniable that Chiron has some significant flaws built into his character design.
A good character has flaws, and there's nothing wrong with having a character that doesn't always conduct themselves properly or have good intentions- it's actually good writing, and I can appreciate that, but for some reason I find myself personally rubbed the wrong way by Chiron. This doesn't make Chiron badly written, or poorly designed, in fact I would say Rick's Chiron is very well designed in lots of ways, but I just don't like how it's never acknowledged by anyone in the series.
Like I said, I'm not starting an anti-Chiron situation, I just think little events like those mentioned, the way he's built a child army, and how he doesn't even try to plead with the gods over raising the ages on campers being allowed to battle is a little sus. But it more so bothers me that there's no attention payed to this problem anywhere in the books, not even by a side character or Luke, nowhere.
I don't actually care that much and this isn't that important to me, but sometimes people ask why I don't like Chiron and this is basically just my explanation to hand off to them... It's not even so much that I dislike Chiron entirely, he's well written and has his "good" moments, I just don't like the way other characters interact with him and his actions.
It's more a personal beef with him rather than an aspect of poor writing or him "being bad"... PJO in general (and HoO/ToA to a much lesser extent) shows that there's not such an inherent good vs bad in the world, and that sometimes people are victims of circumstances in some situations, or they're horribly misguided in their actions, but the series does a good job of showing those people as human still, and I applaud that.
I don't really know how to tie this up in its entirety, but there's nothing wrong with having a morally grey character who does questionable things and in many aspects it is good writing. I think Chiron is a result of Rick not thinking through the implications what he's doing in lots of situations, and I can see a fairly consistent drop in Chiron's characterization from PJO-ToA which is consistent with most other aspects of Rick's work.
I also want to clarify that if you like Chiron and disagree with me, that's absolutely 110% okay, I just personally dislike Chiron and that's on me. Like my problem with many of Rick's other immortal characters, I think he missed important aspects of them in some manner and slightly (or entirely in some cases) mischaracterized them in comparison to their original myths.. Some of these characters he came around on and fixed their character in many aspects to their more "correct" characterization (like Hera), while others (like Chiron and Apollo) he never quite figured them out. Which is a running complaint I have with Rick so I'm just adding this to his tab.
But yeah, I don't hate Chiron I just dislike him and those are different things, and I don't think it's a bad thing to have a morally questionable character, Chiron just personally rubs me the wrong way and I just wanted to explain that more fully because I've been asked about it multiple times.
Also I apologize for not adding a [read more] to this, it's a complaint of mine often when scrolling through the tags but I'm on mobile currently and don't have immediate access to a computer so~
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panda-noosh · 4 years
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fire and ice {Draco Malfoy x Reader}{pjo x hp crossover}
Words: 21k {:))))}
Summary: Wizards and demigods don’t get along. So what happens when the Malfoys are forced to stay at Camp Half-Blood?
Genre: angst - pjo crossover!!!
Notes: ask me about commissions! - masterlist - AM I SORRY? ABSOLUTELY NOT. this has been brewing in my brain for literal ages and i’ve finally snapped and just done it. might do more. who knows? certainly not me. 
----
Lucius Malfoy hates demigods.
   Everyone knows it. He doesn't make it a secret. He doesn't listen to the people who tell him – time and time again – that demigods and wizards aren't even meant to mingle, that him bringing their name into every press conference, every public appearance, every meeting, is doing nothing but spurring a fire that should never have been lit in the first place.
   He's at it again, though, because of course he is. That man never knows when to leave well enough alone, especially concerning business that has nothing to do with him.
    Today, his words are just as harsh as they were yesterday. The newspaper quotes him saying demigods are nothing but scum, mistakes upon the world. He has claimed plenty of times that not a single demigod was a planned child, that no god in their right mind would ever conceive with a Muggle.
   “What the fuck is a Muggle?” Percy asks.
  You shake your head, eyes narrowed at the black and white words. They jumble together, as they always have done, but you're still capable of making out the bare bones.
  Lucius Malfoy really, really hates demigods.
  “This guy is on drugs,” Percy continues. “Who's gonna be the one to tell him we're all literally just vibing over here in camp?”
  “I think it all comes down to jealousy,” says Annabeth.
   “Jealous about what? He's a fully grown wizard – he could wipe us out with one flick of his wrist if he wanted to.”
  “You underestimate us.”
  Percy scoffs. “I saw Will nearly fall into the fire the other day; there's absolutely nothing here Lucius Malfoy needs to be afraid of.”
  And you see his point. Of course you do. Being a demigod yourself, you have the utmost confidence in the fact that Lucius Malfoy could, indeed, probably wipe you out with nothing more than a brief thought. Gods only know he's wanted to for as long as you've heard his name.
  Nonetheless, this acceptance doesn't stop you from thinking about what it would be like to really stumble across the man who seems to be all talk and no action. Never once have you heard a story of wizards attacking demigods, nor vise versa. The two clans stay far apart from one another for reasons that have been made abundantly clear in the newspapers; they will just never get along. Two clashes of power like that will leave the world rumbled, and many people hurt, and it's better off to avoid that when you can.
  “We should track this Malfoy bloke down.”
   The words have fallen from your mouth before you've even fully registered they are what you wanted to say. Both Percy and Annabeth pause mid-argument, Annabeth nearly snapping her spine with how fast she twists in her seat to look at you. You flick your eyes up from your plate of roast beef and give a tiny, timid smile, as if shy that you even made such a suggestion.
  “You're joking,” says Percy, before turning to Annabeth. “They're joking, right?”
  “They're definitely joking.”
   “I'm not.”
   “Well, you need to start joking before I bring Will over here to make sure you're not running a fever or something-”
   “I'm serious!” You gesture towards the fire, where the newspaper can still be seen curling amongst the flames. “Have you guys not been reading the amount of threats he sends us every time he gets a chance? What if he's serious?”   “I doubt he's being serious,” Annabeth says, though there's a wobble in her voice that tells you she perhaps doesn't fully believe her own assurances. “Isn't it a crime in the wizard world to – like – murder innocent things?”
  “I'm pretty sure there was an entire space of time over there where people were just murdering each other,” Percy responds.
  Annabeth pales.
  “See what I mean?” you continue. “Besides, it's getting boring here.”
   Percy blinks. “Boring?”
   “I'm bored. I just want something to do, for Gods sake. Chiron's keeping such a tight leash on us-”
   Percy throws his hands up. “Oh! I wonder why!”
   “You two even said a few days ago that you miss being out and about, doing stuff, saving lives-”
   “I never said that,” Percy argues. “In my opinion, I've had enough saving lives to last me a lifetime.”
  “Weak.”
   “Coming from-”
  “Okay!” Annabeth snaps. “Enough. This conversation is officially over.”
  You pout, folding your arms over your chest like a child having a tantrum. Percy laughs at your expression, giving your nose a playful tap that does nothing but infuriate you further. It's been like this for weeks now – short tempers, boredom, an unease that can only be put to rest when you're out and about, doing what you do best.
   Maybe it's the ADHD. Maybe it's the godly blood running through your veins. Maybe you're just too curious for your own good, but you want to find Lucius Malfoy and just talk to him. You want to see if he's as tough in person as he makes himself out to be on paper. You know you're not much to look at, nothing more than a teenager with interesting parentage, but maybe that will be enough to get your questions answered – why do wizards hate demigods so much?
  Annabeth cuts the conversation short any time you try bringing it to life again. She's a master at changing the subject, sometimes deciding to just talk over you about a completely different topic. Eventually, Percy's laughter and Annabeth's avoidance is enough to make you shut up, and soon you're just sitting there, listening to Annabeth talk about the recent Athena cabin shenanigans she bore witness to a few nights previous.
  Dinner finishes, and the tables split back into their cabins. Annabeth gets lost amongst her sea of siblings, giving you and Percy a wave before she disappears for the night. You and Percy walk in silence for a little while, before you split off to your own respected cabins.
  Alone.
  Sleeping on your own has never bothered you before. It's all you've ever known. You were born an only child, your mother having lost her mind shortly after giving birth to you, your father never being around due to the complicated fact he was a god.
  Is a god.
  Sometimes it shakes you to think your own father will undoubtedly outlive you. Hades is sat on his throne somewhere, watching you do all these things in his honour, knowing full well he will one day have to watch you die. He might be by your bedside as your heart beat gradually comes to a halt in your sleep.
  More likely, he will be sat amongst his godly brothers and sisters, watching you fight on the battle field, catching the very moment a sword pierces your chest and you bleed out with no one to help you, no one by your side, no one caring.
  You shake the thought from your head as you reach your cabin, a large, black painted building with a skull and crossbones over the door. It's a lonely place, but demigods are lonely kids, so it kind of fits, and you've never seen any problem with facing the truth.
  As soon as the door closes behind you, you grab your notebook and pen from beneath your pillow. It's been a long time since you wrote anything, considering you've been too tired to even properly function these days, but tonight, your thoughts are heavy, and you need to find some way to let them loose. You sit cross-legged on the uncomfortable camp bed Chiron provided you with all those years ago, and start scribbling.
  Just random sentences, things that probably won't even make sense when you wake up tomorrow morning, words that don't even go together, but are just popping in your mind every few seconds. You've always called it poetry, but it's on thin ice. You let nobody read it, considering you know how bad it is, how weird it is. You can honestly imagine someone reading it and immediately expressing concerns for your mental stability.
  But it distinguishes that weight in your brain. It makes you see sense for a bit, pouring these words onto paper before closing the notebook and stuffing it beneath your pillow. You won't have to read them again if you don't want to, and that's the best part; it offers a moment of bliss, but there are no strings attached. All is well. All can be ignored if you want it to be.
  ----
  It takes weeks for the subject of Lucius Malfoy to arise at the dinner table again.
   Annabeth has been fighting it off. The demigod has known you for far too long; at this point, all she needs to do is take a glimpse of your face, and immediately she knows exactly what is going through your brain. It's like a sixth sense to her, and it gives her the perfect opportunity to change the subject before you can so much as utter the word Wizard.
   Percy notices the tension, and finally snaps.
  “Are you still thinking about what Lucius Malfoy said?”
   Annabeth groans, slapping Percy on the arm. “I told you not to bring it up!”    But your attention has already been grabbed. You straighten up in your seat, grinning from ear to ear as you say, “So can we go?”
   “Give me a break,” Annabeth grumbles, dropping her head into her hand. “We're not going to visit Lucius Malfoy. We don't know the guy.”
  “He doesn't know us.”
   “Good.”
  You lean across the table to flick Annabeth's forehead. “But he still insists on talking about us to whatever freaky wizard press he has special ties to; I just want to see him, Annabeth! I just want to – like – mess with him a little bit!”
  Percy laughs, nudging Annabeth's elbow. When he speaks, it's through a mouthful of noodles. “I actually think our Y/N is on to something.”
   “Thank you, Percy.”
  Annabeth's head shoots up, a pale spot in the centre of her forehead where you flicked her. “No! No, this isn't even up for debate. Chiron will kill us if he knows we're even talking about it.”
   “No he won't,” you reply. “Chiron trusts us. He's seen us do all sorts, and it's not like I'm asking you guys to go and risk your lives for me. We'll go and talk to him, get his side of the story, and then we'll-”
  “It's honestly like you think I'm stupid.”
  You freeze, fork hovering halfway to your mouth. “Come again?”
   Percy laughs, failing to stifle it behind his hand. “You've only gone and woken the beast, Y/N.”
  “Shut up.”
  Annabeth sighs, running a hand over her ponytail. “I've known you since we were seven years old, Y/N – I know what you're up to. You'll never just talk to Lucius Malfoy. You'll get there, and you'll have to taunt him, and jeer at him, and put a stink bomb in his bathroom-”
   “That's the oldest trick in the book – I'm better than that.”
  “But you know what I mean!” Annabeth shakes her head. “You'll get carried away, and we know what happens when you get carried away.”
  Your stomach dips. Even Percy's bright smile falls, replaced with a grimace the two of you share. It's a low blow, and Annabeth knows that, but she also knows better than to make it out like you and Percy aren't two of the most unpredictable demigods to walk on Camp Half-Blood soil.
  When Annabeth next speaks, her voice is softer. “It's just too risky.”
  “Since when did you start being scared of a little confrontation?”
  Percy's voice startles you from your momentary reverie. Both you and Annabeth snap to attention, turning to look at your friend with raised brows; suddenly, he doesn't look like the happy-go-lucky, always bantering kid he usually is. His expression has darkened, jaw set and eyebrows lowered so his blue eyes look darker than normal. He can't even bring himself to look you both in the eye, instead choosing to keep a firm glare on the noodles and rice in front of him.
  “What do you mean?” Annabeth asks. “I'm not afraid of confrontation. My scars can vouch for that.”
   “Right, so why is Y/N's suggestion so scary to you?”
   You blink; this was certainly not the direction you were expecting the conversation to go. Annabeth and Percy bicker like cat and dog, but there's never been any malice in it. Now, listening to Percy, you can hear the genuine hurt in his voice, and you know her previous comments about getting carried away have actually struck a chord in him.
  Annabeth stares with her mouth agape, clearly unsure how to respond. She must sense the tension, too, must realise she has said the wrong thing.
   Still without looking up, Percy says, “I agree with Y/N; we need out of this camp for a little while. We need to do something. So why not have a little road trip to visit the man himself, huh? Why not get our questions answered?”
  “Percy....” Annabeth flicks a desperate glance in your direction, but you're not inclined to intervene when Percy is like this. As someone who has experienced the difficulty of controlling powers that you have been forced to ignore for a grand number of years, the last thing you want to do is provoke Percy any further than Annabeth has already managed to do.
   “I'm bored, too,” he continues. “And, to be honest, I'm getting pretty tired of them wizards thinking they can say whatever they want about us. It's about time we let them know they're not better than anyone just 'cause they wear them stupid robes and have a council.”
  “So what are you saying?” you pipe up, excitedly. “You'll go with me?”
   Percy shrugs. “I don't see why not. It'll be a bit of fun, won't it?”
   You cheer, throwing your hands in the air before catching a glimpse of Annabeth's angered expression. Your cheer immediately drifts away, and you let your hands fall to your sides before mumbling, “You sure? 'Cause, I mean, we don't have to.”
  “No, we're going,” says Percy, staring right at Annabeth. He has a death wish. That is the only explanation you can come up with right now. “It'll be fun, as you said.”
  Annabeth's nostrils flare. She says nothing else, simply sends one final glare to Percy – as if you're not even present – and stands up, marching away before dinner has finished.
   Percy huffs, slumping back in his chair. “Where does she get off telling us we get carried away?”
  “I mean, she isn't wrong, Percy.”
  Percy scowls. “I don't think that's very fair.”
  “You're in denial.” You plunge your fork into his noodles, using his distraction to steal some food for yourself. “But we're going to visit Lucius Malfoy! That'll be fun!”
   “I only said that to make Annabeth angry.”
  “I know, but a promise is a promise. We're going, and we're gonna have a fantastic time.”
  “I highly doubt that.”
  Not even two seconds later, Percy squeals and jumps from his seat. “Hey! Don't do that!”
  You grin, willing the skeletons hand to let go of Percy's ankle and sink back into the dirt.
  -----
  You and Percy remember this so well.
  It's muscle memory at this point, standing in the Hades cabin in the dark of night, Percy having tip-toed over to your domain to indulge in some illegal shenanigans. When you were younger, this used to be a nightly occurrence, which is one of the main reasons you both share such dramatic memories; neither of you are capable of staying out of trouble for very long, and maybe this is the very reason why.
  It's so easy for you to go wherever you want. You could shadow travel out of Camp Half Blood without a second thought, exhaustion be damned, but you never do. You respect Chiron too much to go out of your way to disobey him, but tonight is an exception. Percy stands by your side, hands tucked into an oversized hoodie. He's pulled the hood on over his dark hair, shoving the tangled strands into his eyes, though he does little to fix this. Instead, he keeps his blue gaze on you and says, “How long do you think we'll be?”
   “Not long,” you reply. “A few hours. Maybe a little longer if you fancy a stroll around London before we head back.”
  Percy scowls, glancing over his shoulder at the window. Nobody is awake. Camp Half Blood has never been so quiet.
  “Stop worrying.” You grab the sleeve of his hoodie, ushering his attention back to you. “I know what I'm doing, Perce – you've been with me a thousand times before. You know I can do it.”
  “Last time you shadow travelled this far, you nearly died.”
  “I was younger then. I've had more practise.”
  “Enough to travel to London?”
  You grab his hand, the motion so familiar now it's almost second nature. “Let's find out, shall we?”
   You don't give life the chance to throw another distraction your way; you inhale in that way you always do before a lengthy jump, and then you let your mind empty of all rational thought. Your mind does not go blank, nor does it settle; for a brief spell, you feel insane. You feel utterly and completely unhinged as the dead cackle in your head, thrashing through your brain like dogs trying to leap a wire fence. Your thoughts are no longer your own, replaced instead by the thoughts of people who are angry at death, angry at their own fate, people who blame your father and all of his offspring for the way their lives turned out.
  It hurts. You're forced to watch their faces as they twist into expressions of pure agony, begging for a help you cannot give them, because they are hundreds of years too late.
  It stops once your feet hit the ground.
  You try to steady yourself just to give off the illusion that you're perfectly fine, but your legs give out and you fall to your knees. Percy grabs your arm, but your body is limp as it slowly restores from the hectic ride that is shadow travel.
  “Never gets any better,” Percy grumbles; even he is a little uneasy on his feet, swaying to and fro. “Are you okay?”
  “Fine,” you belch. “Are we in London?”
  Percy looks up. You follow his gaze, warmth immediately flooding your stomach at the sight of a job well done, because the two of you are amongst the unmistakeable sights of London.
  It's a bit disappointing, you won't lie. Pictures in newspapers always perceive England to be this sophisticated, well-lit place, bustling with people dressed in suits and expensive clothes. Instead, you're greeted by a dark city street, broken street lights flickering overhead, people bustling by with their heads down, wearing track suits.
  In the distance, someone yells, “Come on, mate!” and it echoes off the cobbled stone walls.
  You and Percy share a glance.
  “Maybe we just expected too much,” he says.
  “Probably.”
  He hauls you to your feet, keeping a hand on your arm just in case you end up toppling over again. Through the darkness, you are just able to make out the peak of a large house in the distance. It's straight from a horror movie in your opinion, made up of dark cobbles, a golden fence adorned with spikes to keep the Muggles from entering; the word itself is nearly enough to make you laugh, though the sight of the house keeps you quiet.
  You and Percy approach the gates timidly, his hand still on your arm. “Is this the Malfoy house?”
  “I think so,” you whisper. “It looks like the pictures we always see. It's what I was aiming for, anyway.”
   “Good job, soldier.”
  “Thanks, boss.” You pause, craning your neck to get a better look at the house. “How do we actually get through the gate?”
  There are lights on in at least four of the rooms, a shadow passing by a curtain that looks tall and slim, gliding more than walking. You grab Percy's arm and point, whispering urgently, “That must be him! Lucius!”
   Percy ducks his head down and laughs. “Okay, okay. Let's just climb the fucking gate and get everything set up.” He glances at you. “You're sure you're up for this?”
  “I've never been more prepared for anything in my life.”
  Together, the two of you scale the metal gate, using the upper body strength you have gathered from years of training at Camp Half Blood. You're over and in this strangers garden in a number of seconds, sprinting through the grand garden before suspicions can be roused. Around you, white peacocks look up from their grazing, though none of them make a sound to give away the presence of two strangers.
  You reach the fountain and duck beneath it; this is where Percy needs to be if he wants to succeed in his part of the plan. He crouches beside you and hovers his hands over the water, not even giving you a warning before he uses his powers to pull the water from the concrete fountain. It sprays across the garden, and that's when the peacocks start to scream.
  Water splashes against their feathers, startling them. You can barely hide your laughter at the sight of them springing up from whatever peaceful graze they were involved in beforehand, now darting around the garden like someone has plucked a feather from their flesh.
  Percy shoves your arm. “Stop laughing and get on with it before they come out!”
   You push past the distractions and focus your energy on your own powers. Your exhaustion makes it all a little bit more difficult, but the image of the final product is enough to have you pushing the exhaustion aside just to reap the benefits of this. Inside yourself, something pulls, and it's familiar, uncomfortable, but it has the effect you want. Almost immediately, a skeletal hand darts from the ground. Just one for now, but you wait patiently before making the next one erupt.
  The front door of the Malfoy house bursts open, and standing there is no other than-
  “That's not Lucius,” Percy says.
  “It definitely is not.”
   The person standing in the doorway cannot be much older than you, with snow white hair and a sharp face. His eyes, blue and cold, are wide as they take in the sight before him, his wand clutched in a trembling hand.
  “You said you saw Lucius in the window!” Percy hisses, struggling to reel the spray of water back into himself.
  “I thought it was!”
  “For Gods sake.” Percy grabs your arm and drags you up, no longer caring about being seen. However, you stumble as he runs, dragging you along behind him, because the sight of the boy is distracting; he looks terrified, like he was expecting something completely different, like he thought someone was finally coming to take him away.
  You recognise the expression only because you've worn it yourself so many times; growing up as the child of Hades leaves a lot of scars and a lot of fear on a person, considering your father certainly isn't the most liked individual upon the Olympians.
  As Percy attempts to drag you back to the gate, you glance over your shoulder. The boys blue eyes glare into your own. He has seen you.
  And nothing can really prepare you for what happens next. You don't know enough about the wizarding world to expect this, but the feeling is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Someone yells in your direction, and then something is crashing into your spine, slithering along your neck, giving you not a single chance to react before the world goes still and you drop to the floor, no longer processing a single thing happening around you.
  ----
  “Would you just wake up?”
  The voice is posh and annoying. It makes you want to laugh.
  The pain in your spine stops you from doing such a thing, however. Instead, you slowly rouse from sleep, met by the blinding lights of a room unfamiliar. You lay on a bed fit for a king, soft pillows engulfing your sore head, thick mattress swaddling your body like a newborn baby.
  And standing above you is a boy you remember seeing only vaguely; pale skin, snow white hair, a grimace that shows he perhaps isn't too happy about having you in his home.
  You stare at him a moment, willing him to make the first move. Maybe if he starts the conversation, you won't have to go into too much detail about why you're actually here, because despite the glitches in your memory, that is something you remember very, very well.
  Running across his lawn, thinking you were clever because you and Percy were finally going to give Lucius Malfoy a piece of his own medicine.
  And now Percy is gone, and you're trapped in a strangers house.
  The boy stood above you, however, says nothing. He looks almost nervous, eyes flashing between you and the door, like he's planning the easiest way to flee if things reach that point.
  Finally, you snap. “Hello.”
  He jerks away, nearly stumbling over a stool by the bedside as he does. “Oh,Christ. Hello.”
  “I didn't mean to scare you.”
  “You didn't – I'm not scared. I just thought you were still Stunned.”
  You blink. “Stunned?”
  “I Stunned you.” He pauses, biting his lower lip. “It was the only way I could think to get you to stop running.”
  “Is that some kind of spell?”
   The boy waves a dismissive hand. “The point is, you were in my garden earlier. If my father had been the one to see you, he wouldn't have hesitated to curse you and call it self defence.”
  His father.
  Something rushes through your stomach, an excitement that doesn't really make sense. All has failed. You're going to go back to Camp Half Blood and be chastised, probably brutally punished, for the choices you made tonight, and yet here you are, overjoyed at the mere mention of Lucius Malfoy, because that's the only person this boy must be talking about.
  “You look a lot like him,” you say.
  The boy narrows his eyes. “My father?”
  “Lucius,” you clarify. “He lives here, doesn't he? He's the one Percy and I came to see.”
  The boy slowly leans back in his chair; it's quite cute, actually, that he dragged a chair into this room just so he could sit over your Stunned body. Maybe he was making sure you didn't die. Maybe he just didn't trust leaving you on your own.
  “What business could you possibly want with my father?” he asks. “You must be my age. What year are you in at Hogwarts? What House?”
 You smile. “I don't go to Hogwarts.”
  He reels back. “Really? Are you from a foreign school? Beuxbatons?”
  “I don't go to your fancy magic schools. I'm not a wizard.”
  The boy blinks. It never ceases to baffle you the pure ignorance of these people – how they can grow up in a world completely detached from everything and everyone, and yet are still unable to fathom the idea of anybody being different.
  “If you're not a wizard, how did you make the water fountain do that?”
   “I didn't. Percy did that.”
  “Who is this Percy bloke you keep going on about?”
   “He's my friend, the one you apparently let get away.”
  The boy raises a brow, glancing over at the window as if expecting to see Percy just standing there; honestly, you wouldn't even be surprised.
  He turns back and says, “So your friend is a wizard? Are you a Muggle?”
   He's taking an awfully long time to catch on.
  “No,” you reply, exasperated. “Neither of us are wizards. We're from New York – a little place called Camp Half Blood.”
   And for a second, the revelation doesn't land. The boy continues staring at you like you have three heads, mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed. But then the ball drops, and he jerks back, the chair dragging in the carpet with the speed at which he jumps to his feet. He looks almost horrified.
  “Alright,” you mumble. “I'm not going to bring Zeus down here personally. He's a bit busy-”
  “How did you even get here?” he hisses. “Are you an assassin? Is that why you were looking for my father – so you could kill him?”
  “Oh, don't be so dramatic. I'm a demigod, not a murderer.”
  The boy looks at you like he doesn't think there's much difference between the two.
  This angers you. Something in your stomach burns, and suddenly, the only thing you want to do is to get away from him. You want to go back home. You want to find Annabeth and hug her, tell her she was right, just as she always is. You don't like being in the company of wizards. You don't like being away from the people who understand you best.
  “Look, this was fun,” you say, pushing yourself up from the bed. “But I need to get going. I'm sorry about your fountain-”
  “Where are you going?” he demands.
  You pause, raising a brow.  “Why do you care?”
  “Because – Because what if you come back to finish my father off? I can't just let you go!”
  He must be completely oblivious. You have fought monsters taken directly out of storybooks, have argued and debated with Gods about things such as ice cream flavours and which way is the right direction to go on a road trip – the last person you have any interest in fighting with is some posh, uptight wizard.
  “Look,” you say, “all I wanted to do was mess with the guy. He's been saying some pretty harsh things about demigods lately, and Percy and I just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. I don't want to murder your father.”
  The boy stares at you. He's powerful, too. You know he is. You can see his wand sticking out of a deep pocket in his emerald green robes. One flick of that and you're a goner, and yet he chooses to just stand over you, eyes burning holes into your head.
  “What's your name, anyway?” you ask.
  He tenses. “Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”
   “Sounds evil.”
  “It's a strong name.”
  “Right.” You flick your eyes to the clock hung upon the wall. “Can I go now?”
  He sighs and backs away from the bed. “My father would kill me if he found out I was letting you go.”
  You stand up, knees trembling from the aftershocks of having a wizards spell slam directly into your spine, but you manage to catch yourself before crumbling completely; Draco does nothing to help stabilise you, instead watching you with a thoughtful gaze, like he's preparing to attack at any moment.
  And it's weird. You know it's weird. You should not just be able to walk out of his house without a single consequence to your name. He should be holding you hostage, keeping you pinned to this bed until his grand old father gets home, and he can tell you off for trespassing, scaring the life out of his precious white peacocks.
  But Draco doesn't say another word as you slip out the door and barrel downstairs, suddenly desperate to be away from a world like this. It's weird. It's unnatural. They care about blood status, and they learn spells, and it's all just a little bit too weird for your taste.
  Even weirder is the fact that Draco is letting you go so easily.
  ---
  You arrive back at Camp Half Blood when it's light outside, and you know you've been caught.
  Wherever Percy may be, you do not envy the treatment he must be getting. You clamber up to the pine tree and look down at the camp you call home, not surprised to see people bustling back and forth already, Chiron included. He looks miffed, digging his front hoof into the dirt like a rabid animal ready to charge.
  That's kind of what he is.
  You hollow out your cheeks and stroll directly into camp, ignoring the startled gasps of the Half-Bloods. You'll deal with Chiron before you deal with them – that seems like the best way forward.
  Chiron spots you seconds before you reach him. He turns, dust billowing up around him before he says, “And where do you think you've been?”
  Chiron has always been a father-figure to you, Hades be damned. He saw you as a junior demigod, just growing into who you are, unable to fully process the fact that the man you always hated, the man you once believed to be a no good excuse of a father, was actually a Greek God who has spent his time watching you grow – just from the sky instead of on the ground.
  He treats you and Percy differently than everybody else. You're both feared for no reason. People shy away from you like you've been on some blood-lust streak your entire life, even though that's far from the case. When you can, you avoid using your powers, purely because you know how much people dislike them. They see them as unnatural. They think it's weird, despite them having abilities, too.
  “Hello, Chiron,” you mumble. “I'm very tired, so if you could just-”
  “We've had word from the Ministry of Magic.”
   You freeze, stomach dropping, certain you heard him wrong. The only wizard you actually made contact with was Draco, and surely he didn't go to the Ministry after letting you run free just like that?
  Chiron shakes his head. His disappointed look is more than you can bare. “What were you two thinking, Y/N? What did you think would happen?”
  “I – I – I don't know.” You look around desperately. “Is Percy here? Did he make it back safely?”
   “Percy's resting. He wanted to go after you, but Grover wouldn't let him, and thankfully so-”
  “I was fine. The boy I met – Draco -”
  “Draco Malfoy?”
  You falter. “Well, yeah. He spotted us and ended up Stunning me-”
 “Oh my gods.” Chiron runs a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky, saying whatever prayers he thinks will help right now, like the Gods have ever listened to any of you before. “You do realise that's Lucius Malfoy's son, don't you? The son of the man who wants our kind terminated.”
  “Draco wasn't like that,” you reply, even though you don't know why. “He let me go. He didn't even hurt me-”
  “You've just said he Stunned you!”
  “For, like, an hour! I was fine when I woke up! And look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't do the exact same thing if you could.”
    Chiron groans, turning back to the Big House. He starts walking without another word, forcing you to sprint after him.
  “Don't be mad,” you say. “It was stupid. I'm sorry. Chiron, I'm sorry. We just got bored-”
  “If children put their family's in danger every time they were bored, Y/N, the human race wouldn't exist.”
  He really is angry, angrier than you've ever seen him. It takes you back to your childhood when he used to tell you off for staying up too late, or getting out of bed in the middle of the night.
  You stumble after him, thankful that he isn't telling you to go away and leave him alone; that's one thing Chiron has always promised he will never do to you or Percy – he'll never just leave you alone.
  You walk into the Big House, side-by-side, and it's a mildly unpleasant surprise for you to see Annabeth already sat by Chiron's desk, her head in her hands, blonde curls framing her face. As soon as the door shuts behind you, she jerks up, whirls around and throws a pen in your direction.
  You catch it. “I am safe, thank you for asking.”
  “You're so stupid!” She groans, picks up another pen and throws it. Chiron is the one to interject this time, snatching the pen from thin air and tucking it into the little pouch hooked to his side.
  “Enough, Annabeth. We haven't got time to chastise them.”
  “I beg to differ,” Annabeth growls, not once taking her eyes off you.
  The guilt claws to the surface; she only wanted to protect you, only wanted to give you some decent advice, and neither you nor Percy had listened, both too absorbed in your own boredom to use the common sense Annabeth seems so prone to.
  Chiron, however, does not give you a chance to ponder over this gruesome feeling. Instead, he pulls a seat out and gestures for you to sit down, which you do without question; at this point, you know you'd be stupid to disobey him, would only be digging yourself into a deeper hole, one you're not too sure you'll be able to crawl out of.
  He takes a seat in front of you as Annabeth hovers by your shoulder, arms folded over her chest, eyes trained dead ahead. You awkwardly shift in your seat, waiting for the scolding to begin.
  But instead, Chiron grabs a golden button from a drawer in his desk and presses it without saying anything at all. The room immediately brightens up in all different colours – red, green, blue, strobe lights dancing across the room, taking shape in the centre of the carpet. You have to squint to fully understand the form taking shape, but when it does, your stomach drops.
  Made entirely of lights, standing in the middle of the room, is Cornelius Fudge, the jittery little minister of the wizard world.
  You've only seen him a few times, and never in person; a few times, he came to meet with Chiron in regards to escaped prisoners, wizards who wanted to harm demigods who were on the run. You never thought too much of him, but he looks angry now, his grubbly little face twisted into an expression of anger and loathing. When he speaks, his voice is loud and harsh, making you flinch with each syllable.
  “Chiron!” he exclaims. “I hope this message finds you well; I'm still trying to figure out the communication device you gave to me in our last meeting. It's all very confusing, and every time I press something wrong, thunder and lightening nearly wipe me out.” He coughs into a handkerchief before continuing. “Anyway, I'm here to inform you of a mishap which took place in the Malfoy Manor only a few short hours ago. I've been given word that one of your people tried breaking into Lucius's home to do God only knows what. It's only pure luck that Malfoy's son, Draco, was awake and was able to stop the wicked thing from getting through the door.”
   “Wicked thing?” you burst. Chiron raises a silencing hand, still refusing to look at you.
  “We as a nation are becoming very paranoid by the loose grip with which you have upon your own people; they are starting to become wild, careless, and I can truly see a murder from one of you in our future, which, as the Minister, I must put a stop to as soon as possible. Therefore, I demand the culprit be punished for his or her crimes, and I will be popping in soon with my witness to go over the details of the night to help you further understand where our fear is coming from.” Again, he coughs into a handkerchief. “Thank you. I hope the camp is well – the strawberries you sent were wonderful, as always! Good day to you, sir!”
  The lights blink out. The room is doused in silence. Inside your head, a scream echoes.
  You don't even know what to say. Would an apology even suffice? Would an explanation even be worth it? Years it has taken for the wizarding world and the demigod world to live in peace, and by the sounds of it, you've just annihilated all of that for the sake of a prank. You let Lucius Malfoy's hateful words burrow themselves into your head, which is probably exactly what he planned.
  Chiron puts the golden button back in his desk. The soft click it makes as it hits the wood echoes off the walls, so loud and gentle, so mocking. Slowly, he lifts his eyes to meet your own and says, “Now you can understand why we're all a little bit angry.”
  “A little bit?” You close your eyes, letting Annabeth's outburst ring throughout the room. “Chiron, I warned them! I warned them both! I said – what did I say Y/N? - I said-”
  “You said it was stupid, and that we shouldn't do it,” you mumble. “And we didn't listen.”
  “No, you didn't, and now you've given the wizard council a reason to think we're out to get them, which gives them a reason to announce open fucking warfare on us-”
  “Okay, Annabeth, calm down,” Chiron says. “We're taking this one step at a time. There's no point jumping ahead to things like that.”
  “Chiron, this is bad. This is so, so bad. The wizards are going to think we did this on purpose-”
  “Why are you saying we?” you ask. “Percy and I did this on our own. We'll take the consequences. We've done it before.” You turn to Chiron, who stands solemnly in the corner, head bowed as if deep in thought. “What are the consequences, may I ask?”
  He sighs, nostrils flaring. “We've decided that keeping you in camp for the rest of the summer will suffice for now. The Minister and his witness will be arriving in a few days and I want you to be on your best behaviour.”
  You scowl; the punishment is weak. You got off lucky, and you're aware of that, but it doesn't make it any more bearable. You hate being trapped, hate sitting in the Hades cabin with nothing but your own thoughts keeping you company. That's the hardest part about being a child of one of the Big Three – you're alone. It doesn't matter how many campers surround you, you are alone.
  But you take the punishment on the chin, giving Chiron a respectful nod before walking from the Big House to continue with the rest of your day. You'll find Percy and talk to him about everything, maybe apologise for dragging him into something so stupid, something so avoidable. If either of you had any flicker of common sense, none of this would have happened.
  It's only when you're halfway down the hill do you question anything Chiron has just told you.
  You falter, one word lingering in your mind. Witness.
  The only witness you can possibly think of is Draco Malfoy.
  ---
  He arrives in the afternoon, already looking so madly out of place.
  You spot his white hair, blowing so majestically in the wind Chiron has picked out for the day. His robes billow out around him, his sharp face stuck in an expression of anxiety. His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes darting to and fro as he strolls through the centre of Camp Half-Blood with his father at his side and the stout Minister, Cornelius Fudge, strolling behind them.
  He looks so out of place. It would almost be humorous if you weren't burning with misplaced anger at the mere sight of him; he told on you. He ran to his father and touted on you, even after making it seem like he was going to let you go with no consequences, and now you're stuck in camp for the rest of the summer with absolutely nothing to do and barely anyone to talk to.
  “Dickhead.”
  “Is that him?”
  You jump at the sound of Annabeth's voice, very nearly dropping the spear you were working with before your distraction walked through the barriers.
  “That's him,” you reply. “Draco Malfoy.”
   “I meant the other guy. The one you went after.”
  “Oh, Lucius. Yeah. He's there, too.”
  Annabeth narrows her grey eyes, following the movements of the Malfoy boys. “You know, I can kind of understand why you wanted to put them in their place.”
  You open your mouth to respond, but the words collapse when Draco's head snaps in your direction, like he somehow sensed your presence. His eyes find yours, his face draining of what little colour it has; something inside you stirs, fingers curling impossibly tighter around the spear.
  You remember those eyes so well, shockingly well, strangely well. Waking up to them burning holes into your skull was an experience you don't think you'll forget, considering the shock that coursed through you at the mere sight of him. He was so calm, so curious, not even yelling the slurs his father seems so keen on.
  And you might have made it up. You might have just been imagining it, but you're almost certain he flicks his head in the direction of the bandstand set up on the far side of camp, nearly hidden beneath the canopy of trees. You continue to stare at him, too bewildered by the miniscule movement to respond before he disappears over the hill.
  “Come on,” Annabeth urges, nudging your arm. “Let's get back to training.”
  But you're too distracted now. Knowing that Lucius Malfoy and his son – Draco – are walking around Camp Half-Blood makes your moves sloppy. And then there's the matter of Draco's little signal, like he wants you to meet him somewhere, like he wants to talk to you.
  You have nothing to say to him, but that doesn't stop you being curious about what he wants to tell you.
  Annabeth swings her sword, very nearly clipping the side of your ear. You yelp, stumbling back. Your foot catches on a rock sticking up from the ground, and before you can react, you're sprawled across the grass with your spear laying in a heap at your side.
  Annabeth sighs, kicking the weapon away from your outstretched fingers. “What the hell was that, L/N?”
  You prop yourself up on an elbow. “You could have given me some warning.”
  “Oh yes, because the monsters will be so generous as to give you some warning.”
   You scowl, shoving up from the ground. “Look, I'm just gonna get some water before the next round, okay?”
  Annabeth falters, narrowing her eyes. “Just some water?”
  “Just some water.” You give her a dazzling smile, hoping to the gods that this is enough to convince her you are telling the truth. You know it's a long shot – Annabeth knows you better than anybody else, but she's learned from her mistakes. Trying to boss you around and tell you what to do will only ever end in disaster, and so she says nothing else as you set your gear back on the rack and head up the hill towards the bandstand, out of sight of Annabeth's suspicious glare.
  Draco isn't there when you arrive. The bandstand is deserted, the only sign of life being the tree nymphs poking their heads out of the canopy to see who has arrived on their territory. You shoo them away before slumping down on the bench set in the middle of the stand, gazing around with your heart beating wildly in your chest, and for no reason at all.
  He probably won't even show up. He probably hates you. He's probably too scared to face you after what he did, and honestly, you wouldn't even blame him.
  After ten minutes, you start losing hope. Chiron will be looking for you shortly, most likely tipped off by Annabeth that you disappeared for no reason instead of finishing your training session. It won't be long for them to add two and two together and realise exactly what you have gone to do-
  “I didn't think you'd actually show up. Thought you might have been banned from seeing me.”
  Your head snaps up. “Jesus, Draco. You scared the shit out of me!”
   There he is, all tall and lanky, white hair blowing away from his forehead, his weird robes billowing out around him. It's weird how a person can make such odd attire look nice, almost like an outfit you'd wear yourself.
  “Sorry,” he says, though he doesn't sound apologetic in the slightest; he sounds tired. “I thought you demigods were meant to have superhuman senses or something.”
  You raise a brow. “Our parents are gods, not superheroes.”
  “Same difference.”
  “I'm flattered.”
  He sits down beside you, shoulder bumping yours. “Don't be. It wasn't a compliment.”
   You fall into silence then, unsure of what to say, how to start the conversation you both know needs to be had. You had so much anger built up inside you only moments before, but the second you looked up and saw his face, it dispelled. You were reminded of them blue eyes gazing down at you when you awoke from your Stunning spell, how soft and worried they were for a complete stranger.
  Finally, he inhales deeply and says, “I didn't mean for this to get as big as it did.”
  “Everyone's mad at Percy and I. Me especially.”
  He tilts his head back, glaring up at the sky. “How badly did they punish you?”
   “I can't leave this place for the rest of the summer.”
  “Not too bad, then.”
  You glare at him. He cracks open an eye, catches your expression and raises a brow.
  “It is bad?” Lifting his head, he gestures towards the open stretch of grass in front of you. “This place looks amazing, Y/N. You've got everything you could possibly need, plus you're safe from all those crazy monsters we always get word about.”
  “The monsters don't bother me. I'm meant to go out and fight them; that's my purpose.”
   Draco glances at you. You feel his blue eyes burning holes into the side of your head, can feel the judgement radiating off him as he takes in what you've just said. You never realise just how strange other people must find statements like that, how backwards it truly is to crave the feel of battle.
  “You know, I'd kill to have a place like this.”
  You look at him. “Really? Is your mansion not enough?”
  He scowls, barrelling on like you haven't said anything. “A place where you feel like you belong.” He glances over. “You may hate being here sometimes, but look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel like this place is home.”
   You can't do that. Despite your desire to be free sometimes, your desire to head out on the streets where you don't belong, you know Camp Half Blood will always be home. It will always be the place you turn to when you need comfort, because it is the only place in the world that has ever accepted you and your weird abilities with open arms.
  Draco hums. “Exactly. I don't have that. I don't fit in anywhere; I'm not evil enough for my family, not good enough for everyone else. I'm on my own.”
    The silence that follows is a heavy one; you're not used to this kind of talk. You relate so strongly to his feelings, but you very rarely express them in quite the same way. At Camp Half-Blood, everyone is in the same boat. It's rude to think you have it worse than somebody else. Every single person here was abandoned by a parent, maybe even both.
  But Draco isn't a demigod, so maybe he won't mind.
  “I get that.”
  He narrows his eyes. “Really?”
  “Yeah.” You tug at your sleeve, pulling the material over your curled fingers. “I don't exactly come from the most well-loved bloodline in this place. Even other Half-Bloods take one look at me and cower.”
  “That blonde girl I saw you with-”
  You wave a dismissive hand. “That's Annabeth; she's more like a sister to me, but even she's wary of my powers.”
  Draco pauses. “What powers?”
  You open your mouth to respond, to go through the long list of the terrifying things you are capable of, but your words are cut short by the sound of a bark in the distance. Your head snaps up immediately, senses sparking to life before you've even fully processed where the noise is coming from. Around you, the tension in the camp is amplified as the other Half-Bloods spring to the same level of alertness.
  Draco straightens up, reaching into his back pocket for a wand that you can almost guarantee will be completely useless within the boundaries of Camp Half-Blood. You place a hand on his shoulder as you stand, pushing him back down onto the bench.
  “Stay here.”
  “Where are you going?” he asks, head darting left and right. “What was that?”
  “I don't know, but it didn't sound good.”
   “So call someone!”
  You raise a brow, shooting him a glance over your shoulder. He looks like a scared little boy, hands balled against his chest, eyes darting to and fro. They join with yours eventually, softening almost immediately.
  “Why are you looking at me like that?”
  “We don't just call someone at Camp Half-Blood. We deal with this stuff on our own.”
  Draco falters. His eyes narrow, though the expression doesn't last long; suddenly, he cries out and lurches forward, pointing madly to a space just over your shoulder. You spin just in time, yanking your sword from your belt and swinging blindly. Your shoulder smashes against the dirt, giving you a view of the beast that has just tried ripping you to shreds.
  A chimera.
  You recognise it. Of course you do. The lion head and snake tail are kind of difficult to forget.
  “What the hell is that?”
  “Draco, go!” you yell, rolling onto your knees and swinging your sword yet again. The chimera dives, talons outstretched, mouth open in a roar.
It's massive paws slam into your shoulders, shoving you back yet again. You cry out, struggling to lift your sword with the weight pressing against your chest, the blood now seeping from two wounds in your shoulders. Over the chimera's massive shoulders, you can see Draco jumping from foot to foot, clearly unsure what to do.
  “Why are you still stood there?” you scream.
  Your yelling triggers something within the chimera. You watch the gears turn in its head, its red eyes gleaming before it spins, it's tail snapping out and wrapping around your wrist. You cry out, sword clattering to the floor before you're yanked to your feet and thrown carelessly against the bench you were previously sat on.
  Draco spins. “Y/N!”
  You groan, looking up through bleary eyes; your sword isn't like Percy's. It won't just reappear in your pocket any time you lose connection with it. Where it lies in the grass, feet away from you, it will stay.
  That means you only have one way to get this beast away from you and Draco.
  It takes all of your strength, and it's never easy, but you push through the pain and the exhaustion and pull on that little trigger within your body. Something surges inside you, a feeling so familiar it almost feels like second nature. The floor rumbles. Draco yelps, clinging desperately to the back of the bench, but you keep your eyes on the chimera. It digs its foot into the dirt, growls low in its throat, and then it dives.
  The skeleton's hand bursts from the ground, wraps around the chimera's ankle and pulls it back.
  As soon as the chimera's chin hits the dirt, you bounce to your feet and sprint towards your sword. You snatch it from the ground, spin and slash through the air, no longer caring what part of the beast you hit, just as long as you injure it somehow.
  It strikes through the goats head that protrudes from the chimera's back.
  Black blood oozes from the monsters back end. It splatters up your arms, tiny dots sprinkling your face, but you don't have the time to ponder on that. You swing again, this time going for the neck. The chimera screams, but as soon as your sword makes contact with it's bushy mane, the scream disappears. The chimera bursts into golden powder in front of you, blowing away in the wind.
  A pair of hands wraps around your waist, tugging you up before you can fall to your knees.
  “Holy shit,” you whisper against Draco's collar. “Are you okay?”
Draco can't speak. Looking up, you see his lower jaw rattling, words fighting to the surface but being unable to push past his wall of fear. He looks everywhere but your face, as if trying to figure out where on earth the chimera disappeared to.
  “It's gone for now,” you say, throat dry. “You're safe, Magic Boy.”
  “How did that get in here?”
  Annabeth's voice echoes up the hill. Glancing over your shoulder, you see her marching in your direction, Chiron and Percy walking by her side. At the bottom of the hill, the other Half-Bloods look up, shocked at the sight in front of them. Your disgruntled form being held up by a wizard is certainly not a normal sight at Camp Half-Blood.
  “Y/N,” Percy exclaims. “Are you alright?”
  “Just peachy,” you croak out. “I think I might be bleeding out, though.”
  “Someone get some ambrosia,” Chiron demands, and it's with gentle hands that he extracts you from Draco's grip and lowers you to the floor. He looks up at Draco and says, “Are you alright, boy?”
  “T-the skeletons,” Draco stammers. “They just – they just came out of the floor!”
  Chiron smiles gently. “So I see you've been witness to our Y/N's miraculous abilities, hm?”
  Draco's eyes widen. “Y/N did that?”
  “Yes, you idiot,” Annabeth hisses, shouldering Draco out of the way so she can kneel beside you. She dabs a wet cloth against your shoulder, and you hiss at the contact.
  Percy arrives shortly after with an air tight bag of ambrosia, which you eat in about two seconds flat.
  “How did that get in here?” Percy asks.
  “The barriers were open already,” Chiron replies. “We needed to let the Minister and his men inside the camp, so we had to weaken them a little bit. We must have weakened them too much, and the chimera found a way in.”
   “Or this is the gods playing some sick trick on us,” says Annabeth. “Remember when Percy first arrived and they thought it would be funny to let the Minotaur roam free?”
  “This isn't the gods,” you mumble. “I haven't done anything to make them mad.”
  “So it's the wizards, then.” Annabeth whirls on Draco, folding her arms over her chest. You close your eyes, listening to Percy chuckle lightheartedly at your side. Both of you have given up trying to calm her down at this point. “You and your people just have to come in and ruin everything, don't you?”
  Draco blinks. He's barely spoken the entire time, clearly still trying to figure out what the hell he has just witnessed.
  Annabeth laughs coldly. “When will you and your people get the hint that we don't want you here. We don't want anything to do with you! It's you lot who have so much to say about us, and the minute we retaliate, you take a little hissy fit and have to get the bloody council involved! Well, goodbye to you. Get out of our camp and stay out or else the next monster to attack you won't be killed by us – you can deal with it on your own with your fancy magic spells.”
  She turns back, flicking her curls in Draco's face.
  You shyly glance up and mumble, “Sorry about her.”
   “And although that speech held a lot of passion,” Chiron cuts in, placing a hand on Annabeth's shoulder, “I'm afraid Mr Malfoy and his people cannot leave the camp until the barriers have been sorted.”
    Silence.
  Even you're too stunned to speak, staring up at Chiron as if waiting for the punchline of some joke. He simply looks around, examining the invisible barriers surrounding you, most likely seeing every single gap and crack held within them.
  Percy is the first to break the silence. “Uh. . . Why not?”
  “Well,” Chiron says, “the barriers have been split. If we were to open them any further to let these men out, I fear they might be unsalvageable. We can't risk it.”
  “So we're just gonna let them stay here?” Annabeth hisses.
  “I can't do that!” Draco exclaims, stumbling forward with wide eyes. “I have school, and my mother-”
  “This isn't up for debate,” Chiron says. “I must keep the safety of my people in mind at all times, and this is the only solution that will keep them safe.”
  Annabeth scoffs. “I wouldn't say letting the Malfoy's in our space is keeping us safe.”
  “That is because you're blinded by your ignorance.”
   You and Percy take sharp breaths through your teeth, watching Annabeth's face drop. It would almost be sad if you weren't in agreement with the centaur.
  And it's weird because you used to have the exact same thought process as Annabeth; all you read about wizards was how much they despised your kind, how they saw you as unnatural, a mistake, because gods aren't meant to have children with mortals. Mortals – or Muggles – aren't meant to carry such powerful beings.
  And yet here you are, looking at Draco and feeling even the tiniest glimmer of excitement at the idea of having him stay with you for a little while.
  Chiron turns back to Draco and says, “You can stay in cabin eleven with the Hermes kids. That's where all the newcomers go.”
  Draco pales. “I really don't think this is a good idea...”
  “It's the only idea we have,” Chiron says. “Now, get ready for the feast. You must be starving.”
  ---
  Draco doesn't go to the feast. Apparently, he isn't as starved as Chiron made him out to be.
  Instead, he follows you to the infirmary, despite having no injuries himself. Will Solace feeds you chunks of ambrosia, keeping a narrowed gaze on Draco as he sits by your bedside, saying nothing. He looks thoughtful, head ducked down, hands perched between his legs; he hasn't spoken a single word since the two of you arrived, and his skin is yet to find colour again.
  You glance at Will and whisper, “Is he looking okay to you?”
  “Absolutely not,” Will replies, pressing a damp cloth to your shoulder blade. “But I'm not one hundred percent sure how wizards are supposed to look in the first place, so I can't really say.”
  “Have you got any juice or anything like that you can give him?”
  Will hollows out his cheeks, clearly not appreciating the idea of using up resources on a wizard. Nonetheless, the son of Apollo is too kind for his own good and heads into the back room to grab a juice box. He hands it to Draco with a soft smile, one Draco does not return, before Will says he's going to go check on the other campers. He leaves you alone after that, the room empty besides you and Draco.
  Draco doesn't look up. He doesn't really need to; even without seeing his face, you know what expression he will be wearing, as it is the same expression so many people have worn after watching you bring the dead up from the ground.
  You bite your lip and say, “The food is good here. Are you sure you don't want to go and get some dinner?”
  Draco slowly looks up. His eyes are bloodshot, strained, glinting light blue beneath the yellow lights. “Who is your godly parent?”
  You pause. “Why do you care?”
  “Because what I just saw you do-”
    “Hades,” you blurt out, unable to bear hearing him go into detail again, unable to bear the disgust that will surely ring through his voice. “Hades is my father. I'm the kid he was never supposed to have.”
  Draco stares at you, waiting for you to continue, but what else is there to say? There's no relationship to describe, no happy memories with your dad you can share. All there is to it, is that you are not meant to be here, and you are.
  “And you . . . you have no brothers or sisters? You're all alone?”
  Your eyes snap up. “I'm not alone. I have Percy, and Annabeth, and. . . and everyone else. Plus, I have a little brother – Nico.”
  Draco perks up, like the idea of you having a little brother is something to be excited about. “Really? Where is he?”
  “He's floating around somewhere,” you reply. “He doesn't really like staying in one place for too long; I only really see him when he comes to visit me or his boyfriend.”
   Draco withers. “Oh.”
  “Why do you care anyway?”
  He scowls. “I don't care. I'm just curious. If I'm to stay here for the next few days, I might as well get to know you a little better.”
  “It works both ways, Magic Man. Tell me, why is your father such a little bitch?”
  “I could ask the same thing about yours.”
  “My dad is the god of death. What's your dad's excuse?”
  Draco glares. You grin, slowly leaning back on the hospital bed as you wait for his response, because you genuinely want to know. You've spent years reading articles orchestrated by Lucius Malfoy that go into great detail about why he hates demigods so much, why he thinks they're the scum of the earth; now, you have his son at your disposal, and you're determined to find out where these violent opinions have stemmed from.
  Draco sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “My father just doesn't like people who are different.”
  You pause. “Different?”
   “People who aren't pure-blood wizards are basically bottom tier to him. That includes Muggle borns, Squibs, Muggles, demigods.”
  “But he doesn't even know anything about demigods.”
  Draco shrugs heavily. “He knows you're different. That's all he cares about.”
  It makes sense, you suppose. Lucius has never kept his ignorance a secret. It's not just demigods he speaks badly about. You've read it all – his hatred for Muggles, for people who disagree with him, for good people.
  People who aren't like him.
  “And what about you?” you ask.
  Draco flicks his eyes up, still messing with his fingers. “What about me?”
  “How do you feel about demigods?” You gesture around the room. “Now that you've seen us in action; what are your thoughts?”
  Draco shrugs, looking back down at his intertwined hands. He has nice hands. Muscled, long fingers, expensive rings. “I think it's all quite odd, but I'll get used to it. I'm gonna be stuck here with you for a while, so I don't really have a choice, do I?”
  You smile. “No, I don't think so.”
  ---
  The dreams are worse that night.
  They always are after you have been injured. Already restless, you aren't strong enough to fight off the nightmares that swarm your mind, and tonight they come for you in full force.
  You always call them nightmares, even though they really aren't. More like visions, people visiting you when you least expect it. You've had Poseidon visit your dreams, Athena, even Ares, but tonight, someone new is making an appearance.
  You recognise him immediately. He has the same eyes as you.
  “Dad.”
  He stands waist deep in black mist. Curly black hair frames a chiselled face, dark eyes gazing at you with a look close enough to love that you get a little emotional. By his side is a three-headed dog, and in his hand is a skull, held so casually. Neither of you mention it. Neither of you need to.
  The room is dark. Looking down, you see black mist crawling towards you, hiding your legs from view. You should probably be panicking, but something is holding you back.
  “Dad,” you repeat. “Where's Nico?”
  “Safe,” he responds, voice too calm for a man whose son has been missing for weeks. Voice too calm for a man who is standing in front of the child he abandoned so many years ago. “And how are you, child?”
  “Good. Better than ever, actually.”
  “Even with the company you have been keeping recently?”
  You pause, certain you misheard. Hades raises a brow, tilting his head as if to say Are you going to try and tell me otherwise?
  Swallowing, you say, “So this is about Draco.”
   “This is about the wizards in general,” Hades corrects. “Don't think I didn't notice you getting comfortable with that boy.”
  “I wouldn't exactly say comfortable-”
  “He held you up when you fell.”
   “And that was very nice of him.”
  “That was inappropriate.”
  You fall silent, cheeks heating up. You truly cannot believe your dad – your real life father – is stood in front of you giving dating advice. He needs to take one look at his own history with women and sort himself out before he comes running to you.
  “Wizards aren't safe around our people, Y/N,” Hades continues. “You aren't meant to mingle with people like him.”
  “I think that's a little harsh.”
  “His father wants you dead.”
  “My father wants everyone dead! You're the god of the underworld, for crying out loud!”
  Hades's eyes widen for a moment, clearly shocked at your outburst, but you don't even have the strength to reel it back in. You have felt frustration towards many of the Olympians, all of whom seem to believe they have some sort of control over you, but the one Olympian who makes you angriest the quickest, is the one stood right in front of you, the one who shares your blood, the one who hooked up with your mum one day before abandoning her, along with the kid he always claimed he was never going to have.
  You don't even care that he's a god. You don't care that he could kill you in two seconds flat if he so desired.
  “Chiron did not raise you to have such a sour attitude,” Hades says after a moment.
  You deflate, eyes slipping closed. “There's really no point in trying to get through to you, is there?”
  “It is my job as a father-”
  You scoff.
  “-to keep my kids safe. That's what I'm doing.”
   Your eyes pop open. “Keep us safe? Bianca's dead, Dad. Nico's gone rogue. The only reason I haven't been slaughtered is because I never expected you to keep an eye on me – I do everything on my own.”
  “That's not true,” Hades growls. “You know that's not true.”
  “No? So where's my little brother then, huh? Where's Bianca? Where were you yesterday when a fucking chimera nearly ripped me to shreds, huh? Where were you then?”
  “I'm a busy man, Y/N, but I'm serious when I say that wizards are not the kinds of-”
  “This isn't about the wizards!” you yell, throwing your hands up. The ground rumbles, but neither you nor Hades acknowledge it. “This is about you coming into my dreams, thinking you can just lay down some fatherly rules after nearly eighteen years of not giving a shit about me!”
  His eyes flash. Within the dark irises, you catch a glimpse of a screaming face, and you know exactly what he must be hearing in the back of his mind right now. You hear it sometimes, too, only he must be much more used to it than you are.
  “I have always cared for you,” he says. “Even when my brothers and sisters were punishing me for having another demigod child, I cared for you. I kept them from harming you. I made sure you reached Camp Half-Blood safely so that you could be under the protection of people who knew where you came from.”
  “And they've been more like family to me than you have ever been.”
  Hades closes his eyes. A god dejected. A god not getting what he wants. It's a rare but pleasant sight.
  “I'd like to wake up now,” you mumble. “I appreciate you stopping in, but please never do it again.”
  Hade's looks at you, and you hate the resemblance. You hate that pull, so mortal and familial. You can't even help it. It's like the genes you got from this man are desperate for you to just make up with him, to just see him as the dad he is.
  But you can't.
  He argues no further, clicking his fingers to send you out of your sleep. You awake, startled, eyes snapping open to the sight of your dark room, the smell of ash heavy in the air. You flick your eyes over to see your bedside table gone – yet again, you incinerated it in your sleep.
  “Fuck sake,” you whisper.
  “I put it out.”
  You yelp, very nearly falling out of bed in your shock. Your head snaps up, hands grappling for your sword, only to pause when you look over and see Draco standing in the doorway wearing a white dress shirt and black trousers.
  He looks exceptionally smart.
  Exceptionally smart.
  Your heart jumps as you push yourself up, running a self conscious hand through your bed head. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
  “Chiron asked me to wake you. He said you have training today.”
  You groan, flopping back into your pillows. Draco chuckles, and before you can tell him to stop, he strolls right over to your window and pulls the black out curtains open.
  “Noooo,” you moan, rolling onto your stomach and stuffing your head in the pillows.
  Draco chuckles. “Come on. It's already nine am. The climbing wall is gonna be packed if you don't wake up now.”
  You peek an eye out of your pillow and glare at him. “How do you even know about the climbing wall?”
  “Poseidon's son gave me a little tour after I left the infirmary yesterday; quite a nice little place you've got here, I must say. I'm quite fond of it all.”
  “Oh, happy days. As long as you're happy.”
  He grins, sharp as knives. “I feel like I'm on holiday.”
  You swing your legs out of bed. “You're digging yourself into a deeper hole, Malfoy.”
   “I can just sit back, kick my feet up, watch you lot fight a bunch of mythical creatures-”
  You lob a sock at him. “Get out while I get changed.”
   Draco grins before bowing out of the room, slamming the door closed behind him.
  And so you get ready for the day, getting dressed in your usual Camp Half-Blood shirt and a pair of comfortable jogging bottoms. The sun is bright this morning, a clear indicator that Chiron and the gods are in a bit of a better mood than they were yesterday, when rain was breaking through the already damaged seals of the camps barriers.
  As promised, the climbing wall is set up and booming with Half-Bloods. People from all the different cabins take turns going up against one another, clambering up one side of the wall, racing each other to the top as lava pours down from nowhere, lightening strikes zap through the centre of the wooden beam, as random hands appear out of nowhere and make swipes for legs and arms and faces.
  You spot Draco sat by himself in the stands, wand twirling in his fingers. It could very well be an intimidation tactic, but you stroll up beside him anyway, taking a seat to watch the scene before you unfold; someone from the Ares cabin has gone up against someone from the Athena cabin, a deadly pairing when put together.
  Draco doesn't budge when you sit down. Instead, he points and says, “I think the one with the spear is going to win.”
  “Clarisse?” you say. “Yeah, probably. She's a stubborn bitch.”
  “Daughter of...”
  “Ares.”
 “God of...”
  You roll your eyes. “Have you ever actually looked into the Greek myths?”
   Draco shrugs, leaning back in his seat. He stretches his long limbs out in front and says, “I was educated more in the ways of Dark Magic than Greek myths.”
  “Boring.”
  “Necessary, I think.”
   “Tell me how that all works.”
  Draco glances over. “Magic?”
  “The world of magic. It sounds. . . confusing.”
  Draco pauses for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. As he ponders, the two of you watch Clarisse make her way to the top of the climbing wall, where she pulls the ring loose of it's confines and holds it up to the sound of applause and cheers from the people on the ground. She hops off, landing in a crouch on the ground; her brothers and sisters swarm her, all but lifting her off her feet in celebration.
  Finally, Draco speaks. “It really is just a whole different world. Different to. . . any other world, I guess. We dress differently-”
  “Yes.”
  “The structure of the whole thing is different. You get used to it after a while, but I guess being here is making me realise just how weird the way things are run back home really are.”
  “But it's what you're used to, isn't it?” you say. “You must have thought the way we did things was weird when you first arrived.”
  Draco scoffs. “Skeletons coming up from the floor? Definitely weird.”
  Your cheeks heat up, despite the lack of malice in his voice. Your powers are still – and forever will be – a sensitive topic for you; you've had far too many bad experiences with them to ever be comfortable flaunting them around like the other Half-Bloods are capable of doing. Even now, you watch the Hephaestus kids make fire sprout from their fingertips without so much as a flicker of hesitation – you've never been able to do that, because people take one look at what you're capable of and immediately think you're some kind of devil spawn, there just to drag them into the pits of hell or something.
  Draco nudges you, pulling you from your trance. When you look over, he gestures towards the climbing wall. You follow his gaze to see Percy standing in the centre, waving up at you, arms wild above his head, that goofy grin on his stupid face.
  “I think he wants you to join him,” Draco mumbles.
  You glance over. “You don't mind?”
  “I'll stay here and cheer you on. How about that?”
   You stare at him a second longer, the wand twirling between his nimble fingers; oh, it would be so easy to hate him. That cocky smirk, the subtle hostility to everything he says. You weren't made to like wizards, but Draco Malfoy is starting to grow on you.
  You give him a smile before hopping from your seat and jogging down into the grounds. People cheer at your arrival, because this is the match they have all been waiting for; scared as they may be to face your powers on their own, they would never give up the opportunity to watch two kids of the Big Three go head to head against one another. This is truly the only time you feel comfortable using your powers.
  Percy shakes your hand when you reach him, dragging you close so he can whisper in your ear. “You and Dynamo getting a little close up there?”
   You shove him away, not even giving him an answer before you hop up onto the first ring of the climbing wall. “You coming, Seaweed Brain?”
  Percy rolls his eyes, taking position on the other side of the climbing wall. In the stands, a whistle blows, and immediately the two of you start.
  Percy's quick. Percy has always been quick. From the day he strolled into camp, dragging Grover along with him, he has proven how powerful he is.
  But you're also pretty quick, pretty lithe, just as capable as him.
  You don't even fully process where he is, much too focused on avoiding the downfall of lava dribbling down the side of the climbing wall. The heat singes your hand as you pull yourself up, and you have to grit your teeth to stop the cry of panic that always wants to make it's way to the surface when this happens.
  Percy has the advantage, of course; he just summons some water from thin air, and the lava is immediately overpowered. He laughs at your scowl, pulling himself further along the climbing wall.
  “Okay, Mr Jackson,” you mutter. “If that's really how you want to play it.”
  You pull on something within your stomach, a trick your sister Hazel was able to teach you when you visited her in the Roman camp all those months ago. You reach a hand out, grabbing the iron ore before it soars above your head after being ripped from the ground by your powers. It's not much – you're much better with a sword – but you throw it, using your powers to push it away from your body, straight towards Percy's face. It smacks him in the nose, making him cry and stumble. He slips from the ring he is hanging onto, dropping a few feet before finally latching onto another; blood oozes from his nose, and he glares up at you as you quicken your pace, hoping to put as much distance between you both as humanly possible.
  “That wasn't very fair, you know!” Percy yells up.
  “Gotta do what you gotta do!” you yell back, which of course prompts Percy to shoot a blast of water straight at your legs. You yelp, grip loosening on the ring you have grip on.
  But then you're falling, because the thing about water is that it makes surfaces extremely slippery, and not even a child of Hades can overpower that. You desperately try latching onto something – anything – that can soften your fall, but your moving too quick, and the rings are zooming past, out of reach, and you know this is it. You're going to fall to the floor and break some bones and be out of commission for weeks, because that's what always happens when Percy gets competitive. You're starting to get real-
  “Wingardium Leviosa!”
  Another yelp is ripped from your throat, this one more a yelp of surprise as you suddenly become light as a feather. The wind stops whistling in your ears, replaced now by the gasps coming from the ground, and the sound of Percy yelling, “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” over and over again.
  Ever so gently, you are lowered onto the floor. As soon as your feet hit solid ground, you are engulfed by a crowd of Half-Bloods, all coming to make sure you're okay, have not been harmed despite that being the way of things in this place.
  Percy clambers off the climbing wall and dashes to your side, wrapping you in a brotherly hug as soon as he reaches you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you that hard-”
  “'Course you didn't.”
  “You had it coming!” He points to his nose, still dripping blood. “Look what you did to me!”
  You roll your eyes before craning your neck to get a better view over the heads of your fellow campers. You catch sight of him immediately, leaning against the stands with his wand still twirling in his fingers, the tiniest of smirks present on his pale face.
  Your stomach turns; he had used his magic, cast some sort of spell to stop you from hitting the floor.
  You probably need to thank him for that.
  However, as soon as he meets your eyes, he does nothing but wink and turn on his heel, strolling oh-so-casually towards cabin eleven.
  ----
  “So are you going to tell me what that was?”
  You scream. Your hands fly above your head, knocking the low hung lamp shade dangling from the roof of the Hades cabin.
  Spinning, you catch sight of your father stood in the corner of your room, shrunken down to the size of a normal human being. He likes playing pretend, apparently, but you see right through it. His dark eyes are narrowed, and leaning against the wall beside him is the scythe he so often carries around with him.
  “That's an intimidation tactic,” you pant, motioning to the scythe. “It's not gonna work me on, Big Guy.”
  “Don't ignore my question,” he snaps. “What did that boy do to you when you were falling?”
  You slowly straighten up. “You saw that?”
  “Answer the question.”
   “Why do you think I have an answer?” you exclaim. “I know just as much about the wizarding world as you do! I don't know what he did, but I'm not dead, so I'm not gonna bother questioning it.” You grab a pomegranate seed from the bowl beside your bed, popping it into your mouth before you point a stern finger at the god standing in your room. “And you shouldn't either; he saved your child's life.”
  “My children are capable of protecting themselves. That's how you were raised.”
  You roll your eyes, flopping down on your bed. “This again? Where do you get off talking about raising kids?”
  For a brief second, Hades pauses. You savour it, the moment his face twists into one of uncertainty, as if only just then realising where he has messed up; he can talk all he wants about his children and how you're all just like him, but he can never claim to have made you into the people you are today.
  You hum, smirking. “That's what I thought.”
   Hades snatches the bowl of seeds out of your hand and slams them back onto the bedside table. The room rattles much more than necessary, but you spare the trembling walls only a single glance before turning your attention back on your father. He glares down at you, no longer justifying your attitude with words. He's waiting patiently for you to just open up and tell him exactly what happened, waiting for you to just admit that what happened out there was messed up, and unnatural, and you will never see Draco ever again if you can help it-
  “He saved my life.”
  You believe it, even though it takes every fibre of your willpower to admit such a thing. Demigods don't just get saved. They do the saving. They live their lives getting trained to protect themselves, because they know nobody else will. Today, all those years of training disappeared, and you should have died. You should have fallen to the ground as punishment for your lack of concentration, but Draco had stepped in and given you a second chance.
  And maybe that's dramatic. Maybe looking at it as a second chance was taking it a step too far, but he had done something, and you can't just sit back and pretend otherwise.
  Hades straightens up. In mortal form, his full height is only around five foot nine, but he still manages to look intimidating. It's the eyes. You wonder if people think the same thing about you when you look at them.
  “My brothers and sisters have been voicing their concerns about you getting too close to the Malfoys,” he says, voice softer now. “I told them not to worry, that no child of mine would ever fraternise with people like them. And yet here we are.”
  You pause. “Here we are, yeah.”
   “Lucius won't be happy to hear his son has helped save the life of a Half-Blood.”
  “Lucius Malfoy won't be happy, period. Plus, I haven't even spoken to him the entire time he's been here.”You push yourself up into a sitting position. “Draco isn't like Lucius, Dad. They are two separate people, just like me and you.”
  Hades clenches his jaw. You've hit a nerve. You always do when you bring up just how desperately you want to be separated from your father, just how much you despise being told you look like him, or you do something like him.
  He looks at you with those dark eyes and says, “You're stubborn, you know. That's a trait you get from me, not your mother.”
  “You're grasping at straws now.”
  “You're more like me than you'll ever be willing to admit, but everyone sees it. Nico and Bianca. . . they had little traits of me within them, but not as much as you. You really are my child.”
   Your stomach clenches, and it's confusing. It's so, so confusing, and so painful, because there's a part of you that basks in these comments. He's your dad. No matter how much you try denying it, there has always been a part of you that wants to know you're a little bit like your dad, and yet there's that hostility that begs and clambers for any excuse you can use to go against such a thing.
  You look away, fighting the urge to cry that always seems to rise to the surface when Hades is in your vicinity. “Can you just leave, please? I'm not going to stop talking to Draco just because you lot upstairs have a grudge against his family.”
   Hades sighs. “I know you won't. But you can't say I didn't warn you.”
  “Get out, Dad!”
  When you next look up, the room is empty. Nico and Bianca's beds are desolate, pushed against the wall, suffering from years of neglect. Once again, you are alone. Outside, Draco's shadow passes the window, accompanied by Lucius.
  ----
  Draco seems to be getting comfortable in camp.
  Your father doesn't like this.
  You see, Hades has a very annoying way of making his anger obvious, especially when the anger is pointed towards his children. You will be sat talking to Draco, having a seemingly normal conversation about whatever the days endeavours are holding, when suddenly a scream will plunge right through the centre of your brain, impossible to ignore.
  It's painful sometimes. The headaches that often follow are the kind that leaves you sweating, unable to look into any form of light lest you make it worse. Hades doesn't take this into consideration, however, as he continues giving you these flashes throughout the next week and a half.
  It's another one of his stupid fear tactics. You know it is. He wants to make you suffer so you'll be on his side through intimidation, and you're not willing to give in to him like that. Gods don't always get what they want. That's something they need to learn.
  And so, you continue talking to Draco, and honestly, he's starting to become a friend. He's still a little drawn back, and you can only imagine the reasoning behind that is because Lucius is breathing down his neck every two seconds. Whilst Draco is taking the moral high ground and getting used to life at Camp Half-Blood, Lucius refuses to do such a thing. He spends his days brooding away in the Big House, getting angry when Chiron or any of the other Half-Bloods step foot in what he has now claimed as his domain. The Big House has basically become Out of Bounds whilst the Malfoys are in your presence, because Lucius throws a tantrum any time anyone besides him and his fellow wizards step foot inside of it.
  It's on day twelve that you and Draco sit together in the grass upon the hill. In your lap is a colouring book that Percy stole for you a few years back, one you haven't touched because you very rarely have the time to just sit down and colour something in. He said it got rid of stress or something like that. You wonder if it works.
  Draco lays down beside you, gazing up at the baby blue sky. He has one hand cupped across his forehead, the other resting on his stomach. His ice blue eyes are a little lighter when the sun hits them, and you can see some golden streaks in his silver hair.
  You colour in a picture of Poseidon, already excited to show Percy the final product.
  “Look at this picture a second,” you say after too many minutes of silence. “Tell me if that guy looks like Percy.”
   Draco flicks his gaze over, lifting his head just slightly to get a better view. “Percy?”
  “The son of Poseidon,” you confirm. “The annoying one who blew up your fountain.”
  “Oh, him.” Draco scowls, dropping his head back to the grass. “I suppose it looks a little bit like him, yes. Why?”
  You tilt the colouring book back and forth, humming as you inspect the drawing; it's badly done, of course, with the image probably taken from Google Images, drawn by some human who didn't know any better. For example, they drew him wearing some fancy toga-looking thing instead of his usual khaki shorts and Hawaiian button-up. You've also known Poseidon to enjoy getting his hair permed, but his hair is dead straight in the colouring book.
  “I just think Percy looks a lot like his dad,” you reply. “Not in this picture, obviously – Poseidon wouldn't be caught dead with his eyebrows looking like that. But in real life, I swear, they're the picture of each other.”
   Draco grunts. Not exactly the response you were looking for.
  You glance down at him, raising a brow. “Not gonna add anything helpful to the conversation?”
   “What could I possibly add? I don't know the Greek gods personally.”
  “Really?”
  Draco glares at you. “Forgive me for not fraternising with mythological gods, Y/N. I don't have quite the same relationship with them as you do.”
  You hold up your hands in faux surrender, recognising his angry tone. “Alright, fair enough. No need to get grumpy.”
  “You and Percy are really close.”
   It isn't a question, and you suppose it doesn't have to be. Anyone who has known you for more than two seconds will be able to see that you and Percy are close, having been through so much together. “Yeah, we are. What's wrong with that?”
   Draco slips his hand from his forehead over his eyes and mumbles, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” But his heart isn't in it, and you're not exactly convinced he's telling the truth. You haven't known Draco all that long, but you're pretty confident now in your abilities to pick up when he's angry, or frustrated, as you have seen it more often than any other emotion.
  You glance at him, raising a brow. “You sure about that?”
  “Yes. Why would I think there was something wrong with you having a friend?” He pauses a moment before adding, “He is just a friend, isn't he?”
   It clicks.
  Your cheeks heat up with the realisation. You're thankful that Draco is covering his eyes, because otherwise he would have surely been able to see your shocked expression, and that isn't the look you want to give off right now; you need to remain calm and collected, make sure you're reading this right before you go and lose your cool.
  Awkwardly, you push the colouring book onto the grass and turn your attention fully on Draco. He stiffens when he feels you move, though he doesn't look at you. He doesn't even move his hand away from his face. You wonder if perhaps he doesn't want to show you his true expression, either.
  “Yes,” you say. “Percy is just a friend. He's never been anything more than that.”
  “Oh right. Nice.”
  “Would...” You inhale, glancing down into camp. You're not used to this. Actual emotions, they're scary things. You've never been able to properly handle them. “Would that be an issue if he was?”
  This time, Draco is unable to hide his embarrassment. Beneath his hands, his pale cheeks flush red, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallows and says, “No. It's none of my business.”
  “Well, it's just 'cause, like, you asked, and I just thought-”
  “Thought what?” Finally he looks at you, eyes narrowed. “Thought I cared about what you got up to when I'm not around?”
  You reel back at his tone. “What? No! Well – yeah, I guess, because clearly some part of you cares-”
  “You and Percy can do whatever you want.” He stands, wiping the grass from the elbows of his fancy black blazer. “I honestly couldn't care less. It's not like I'm sticking around much longer, anyway.”
  You raise a brow. “Are you mad? How the hell did that happen? I didn't even say anything!”
   “I'm not bloody mad.” He groans, spinning on his heel as he runs his hands through his hair. You don't even go after him, too stunned to even move. Instead, you just watch his retreating form, only for him to stop a few feet away, turn back and say, “Do you just forget the fact that he was about to let you fall to your death?”
  You freeze. This was not the turn you were expecting the conversation to make. “Come again?”
  “On that climbing wall,” Draco exclaims. “He watched you fall, Y/N! He didn't do anything to stop it from happening, and I refuse to believe he wasn't able to, because from what I've heard, he's one of the most powerful things in this bloody camp!”
   “Things?”
  “Oh, you know what I meant!”
  You shoot up then, anger flooding your system. This is happening too often. You're losing your grip on the control you have trained so hard to gather, and it's all Draco's fault. “No, Draco, I don't actually know what you mean. In case you've forgotten, you're in our home, so don't you dare come in here claiming to know what we see is right and wrong. Percy might be one of the stronger demigods, but so am I. I can handle myself, and Percy knows that! That's the only reason he didn't do anything-”
   “That's his excuse, is it?” Draco laughs, a bitter noise that makes your blood boil. “I wonder how long it took for him to brainwash you into believing that.”
  That's what does it.
  You remember all those times Percy has saved your life. You remember spending weeks by his side, on the run from the worlds most terrifying monsters. You remember crying with your belief that he was dead, imagining a life without your best friend, your companion.
  And here Draco is, acting like he knows Percy better than you, deeming him a bad person just because of a single mishap he happened to witness, a mishap he doesn't even fully understand.
  Behind you, the black cloud arises from the ground. Without even looking, you know it's there, consuming you in tendrils of darkness. Draco's eyes widen, a cry of surprise escaping him before he stumbles back.
  The cloud follows him.
  In your head, you listen to the screams of the souls that make up that cloud, the souls you can control with nothing more than a brief thought nowadays. Draco cries out, nearly falling over his feet. Soon, you can no longer see him as he disappears behind the black curtain.
  You stay exactly where you are, watching him run down the hill, being chased by this power you have total control over. It's fuelled by anger, and you know you're going to get in trouble for doing it, but in this moment, you don't even care. You'll deal with the repercussions later, so long as Draco learns his lesson now.
  It's once the young wizard has disappeared round the corner that you let the souls drop. They sink back into the floor, a rush of energy slamming back into your body now that the strenuous work is over. The hill you are standing on goes silent bar the sound of the snickering tree nymphs.
  And then, just by your left ear, your fathers voice whispers, “Good job, Y/N. Definitely my child.”
  ----
   Percy always knows when something is wrong with you.
  There's something in the air, he says, a buzzing that he recognises as something he too possesses when he's angry. It's like the children of the Big Three communicate their anger through this weird little hum that only the other mistakes can hear.
  He must notice it now.
  He sits across from you at the lake, his toes dipping in the water as you keep your knees drawn to your chest, fingers sunk in the dirt. You keep your eyes on the tide as it sways in and out, but Percy keeps his eyes on you, waiting for the moment you will turn and look at him.
  But you don't.
  You don't want to answer his questions right now. You don't want to go into detail about what Draco said, about what you did to him, about how guilty you feel even though you know you shouldn't. You have used that scare tactic on so many people in the past, and it's always been for good reason – not once have you ever felt guilty about it.
  Not until now.
  Finally, Percy sighs and says, “So you're just gonna sit there and not tell me what's up?”
  Leave it to him to be blunt.
  You glance over and shrug, unsure where to even begin. You want to tell him the truth, of course; he's like a brother to you. The world always feels a little off when you're not telling him every little detail of your life. But gods, how do you explain this without sounding crazy?
  “Do you want me to guess?” Percy continues, shuffling a little closer to you. “'Cause I'm good at that. Especially with you.”
  “Try it.”
  He hums, leaning back. “It definitely has something to do with the wizard boy.”
  Your eyes snap up. “How did you know?”
   “It's always about the wizard boy; you two have been joined at the hip since Chiron declared his residency here.” Again, he hums, continuing his analysis. His sea green eyes are narrowed, his lower lip protruding in a pout. “Did you two get into an argument?”
  “Kind of.”
  “Was he taking his fathers side?”
  “No.”
  “Was he insulting one of us?”
  “...Kind of.”
  Percy raises a brow. “So I'm getting warmer.”
  You sigh, closing your eyes in exasperation. “He thought you and I were a couple.”
 Percy pauses. It's now an awkward pause, especially considering he bursts into laughter not three seconds after. His shoulders jolt, eyes widening as he claps a hand to leg as if to stabalise himself. “You're kidding.”
  “Alright, Seaweed Brain, hands off.” You push him away and fold your arms over your chest. “But yes, he thought you and I were a couple.”
  “And that bothered you so much that you got into an argument with him and now you're huffing?”
   You glare. “You're really enjoying this, huh?”
  Percy nudges your shoulder light-heartedly. “I'm just messing. Tell me what happened.”
  And so, as Percy gets comfortable, you begin your retelling, going into the details about Draco's little tantrum, and your retaliation to said tantrum. Percy interjects with a little “Aww” when you talk about defending him, to which you push his arm to get him to pipe down.
  You feel even worse once the story has been spilled and you are able to see everything in hindsight; should you still be mad? Did Draco deserve that kind of torment?
  Percy is silent for a moment once the story has been told. He looks off into the sea, as if calling to the waves for an answer, a piece of advice he can give you.
  Finally, his wise mind comes up with, “That sounds shitty.”
  “Yeah,” you grumble. “It was.”
  “Sounds like he fancies you.”
  Your cheeks heat up. “I don't think so. Not any more, anyway.”
  “And you're disappointed about that?”
  You shrug, because you really don't know. It would be much less hassle if you weren't disappointed about it, but you can't deny that you don't enjoy the feeling of Draco being mad at you. It feels off. It feels like you've done something wrong, even though you don't think you have.
  “You know,” Percy continues, “I feel a little guilty being the reason you two have fallen out. I wasn't even there and I'm still causing trouble.”
   You scoff. “Yeah. You have a habit of doing that, don't you?”
  “I can't help it.” He leans forward, nudging your arm. “What if I have a little chat with Draco?”
  You perk up, stomach turning at the mere suggestion. “Oh Percy, no. . .”
  “What do you think I'm gonna do?”
  “Bully him. Make him hate me even more.”
  “The fact that that thought bothers you so much just proves to me how much I need to step in and offer my expertise. Annabeth didn't fall in love with me for no reason, and you know that.”
   You open your mouth to object, but the words fall short, because he has a point; out of everyone you've ever known, Percy is the one who has been able to keep up a healthy relationship the longest. He and Annabeth argue like cat and dog, yet they still give off the aura of two young people who are truly in love with another.
  That's rare.
  You slump back against a tree. “Just don't say anything stupid to him. Please.”
  He's already standing up, brushing dirt off the seat of his trousers. “Of course not. Give me ten minutes. I'll have him seeing sense in no time.”    ----
  Draco tries his best to stop the panic.
  It's an old habit, one he hasn't been able to kick. He sees a demigod, and immediately his heart starts beating really fast, and his stomach drops, and his fingers twitch in the direction of his wand. It's a self defence reflex, one that has been built into him from day one, but he's amongst them now, and he needs to stop it.
  But seeing Percy Jackson walking towards him is never going to be a sight he's going to get used to.
  Draco remembers that picture you were colouring in the grass the day previous. You said Percy looked just like his father, and Draco can see the resemblance now. From what little he knows about the true Greek god of the sea, he can tell just where that analysis came from; Percy's black hair, his sea green eyes, even the way he carries himself like he owns the place.
  It screams My dad is a god.
  Draco pulls his shoulders back and gives Percy his best game face, trying desperately to look like he knows what he's doing, like he hasn't been lost in his own thoughts from the moment you looked at him with that anger on your face. He hates that it affected him so much, that he can't get the image out of his head, that he wants nothing more than to storm over to the Hades cabin and apologise for ever upsetting you.
  “Draco, my man!” Percy exclaims, though his heart clearly isn't in it. “How are you? Good?”
  “Fine.”
  Percy clicks his fingers, giving awkward finger guns. “That's good. So good.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks around. Then, out of nowhere, he snaps his gaze down to Draco's and says, “So, I've been told there's a bit of trouble in paradise.”
  Draco pauses. “Paradise? I'd hardly call this place paradise, Jackson.”
  Percy raises a brow; it infuriates Draco, who is so used to his comments making people angry. Percy just seems amused. “Your accent really doesn't do my last name justice when you say it like that.”
  Draco scowls. “What do you want from me, Percy? I've got nothing to say to you.”
  “Well, no. You don't. Technically, I have nothing to say to you, either, but I'm a nosy little shit head, so here we are.”
  “What makes you think I'll tell you anything?”
  Percy grins and takes an abrupt seat next to Draco, shoving his shoulder like they've been best friends for years. “If you tell me what I want to know, I'll tell you what you-” He prods a finger into Draco's chest. “-want to know.”
   Draco's heart hammers. He stares at the grinning demigod, debating whether or not to just jinx him here and now rather than let this absurd conversation go any further.
  But then the options come into his head.
  He has questions about you. Of course he does. You're just. . . a force to be reckoned with. You're such an individual, unlike any Draco has ever encountered in his life, and he wants to know more. Percy could be the key to having those questions answered.
  He coughs into his hand before saying, “I suppose I can talk a little bit.”
  Percy perks up. “Oh, really? Great! So what makes you think Y/N and I are a couple?”
  Draco's cheeks heat up. “Y/N told you about that?”
  “Y/N tells me everything. It's part of the whole being best friends thing.”
  Draco shrugs, awkwardly glancing down at his hands knotted upon his knees. “It was a stupid assumption to make. I know that now. Just. . . at the time, with how close you both are, it seemed the most plausible thing to think.”
  “Well, it was stupid.”
  “Yes-”
 “And did this assumption-” He says this with a snooty British accent that makes Draco glare even harder. “-piss you off?”
  Draco pauses; here is where he could very easily trip up. He needs to choose his words carefully.
  “Yes.”
  Percy tilts his head. “Because you. . . love Y/N?”
  “Love?”
  Percy raises his hands in faux surrender, though there is a grin flashing across his face. “Sorry, sorry. Do you fancy Y/N?”
  Draco swallows the golf ball sized lump in his throat; he wants to die. He literally wants to throw himself into the lake and never resurface. How has Percy managed to butter him up in less than fifteen minutes?
  “I suppose,” Draco mutters. “They are very – um – attractive.”
  “Big brain,” Percy says, nodding. “I get it, man. Smart people are hot.”
  “Uh, yes. Yes, they are also very smart-”
  “And scary.” Percy hollows out his cheeks, shaking his head at nothing. Draco is starting to get annoyed. “Y/N is terrifying, and let me tell you, when a person can intimidate me? Wow. Marry me on the spot, is what I say.”
   “Why don't you just ask Y/N out then?”
  The words come out harsher than Draco planned, but he can't help it. Percy is sat there, basically drooling over you, and it's driving him mad. It's been driving him mad from the instant he got that stupid thought stuck in his brain that maybe – just maybe – you and Percy were something a little more than just the best of friends.
  Percy is grinning, though.
  Draco scowls. “What's so funny?”
  “You really like them, don't you?”
  “I never said-”
  “Personally, I wouldn't touch Y/N with a six foot pole,” Percy continues, which just makes Draco even angrier, and he no longer knows just what he wants. “I'm talking about my girlfriend, Annabeth. The blonde girl. Daughter of Athena.”
  It takes a moment for Draco to remember who Annabeth is. But then it dawns on him, and suddenly everything is making sense.
  His cheeks warm again. “Oh. Right.”
  “Yep. So that's that.”
  “I'm sorry.”
  “Nah, don't be. It's not me you need to apologise to.”
  Draco bites his lower lip, understanding that Percy is right; he said some awful things, and he put you on the spot when you really didn't deserve it. You were doing nothing more than talking about your best friend, and Draco let his own jealousy push to the forefront.
  He looks over at Percy to see the demigod grinning again, an expression he often seems to have. Draco wonders why you don't like him, why you decided to spend all those hours with him instead of Percy.
  And as if Percy can read his mind, he says, “Y/N likes you too, you know. Like, properly likes you.”
  Draco pushes up from the grass, gives Percy a grateful smile before heading out on his mission – to apologise.
  ----
  You run into Lucius Malfoy shortly after Percy storms off.
  It's quite a chance meeting, though part of you can't help but feel that maybe Lucius had it all planned out from the beginning. He holds himself like a man who knows exactly what he wants, like a man who doesn't understand what a chance meeting is.
  You pause in the grass, watching him wade towards you. In your hand, you hold your sword, but that clearly isn't enough of an intimidation tactic against the tall, pale wizard. He stops only when he's feet in front of you, and with his posh accent, he says, “Y/N.”
  “Mr Malfoy.”
  “Where is Draco?”
  “Beats me. He isn't my son.”
  Lucius's nostrils flare. “Can you put that sword down whilst talking to me, please? It's disrespectful.”
  You look at the celestial bronze blade and tilt it back and forth. The sun hits off the hilt, illuminating the Greek words inscribed upon it. “No. I quite like it in my hand.” You look back at Lucius and smile pleasantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr Malfoy? Are you lost?”
  Lucius grits his teeth. Something throbs in his jaw, and honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he were to draw back now and punch you square in the face.
  Or he could just cast a spell, or whatever it is wizards do.
  “You know, Y/N, Draco has told me an awful lot about you,” he growls.
  “Oh?”
  “Yes. And quite frankly, the details he has given me only further prove my theory that your kind are just unnatural.”
  He's only trying to wind you up. You keep that in mind as you stand before him, listening to him spew such hatred; you could so easily just chop him to pieces right now. You could end this for everybody, but you think of Draco and how he would react and that thought alone is enough to silence the violent thoughts before you lose grip on your powers.
  “I'm sorry you think that,” you mumble. “Hopefully you'll be out of camp soon enough and won't have to bother with my kind for much longer.”
   Lucius laughs. There's no humour in it. It makes you ill just listening to it. “He told me about your little parlour trick – raising the dead, is it?”
  “Controlling the dead.”
  “That's Dark Magic, dear. That's the devils work if I've ever heard of it.”
  You open your mouth to respond, but the chance is ripped away by the sound of someone else's voice ringing in your ear.
  “I don't really enjoy being called the devil. He and I are two very different legends.”
   You close your eyes. “Dad, go home.”
  He doesn't listen to you. Of course he doesn't. Instead, he steps up to your side and places a warm hand on your shoulder. When you look up, he's smiling at Lucius with the same pleasant smile you gave him only seconds before – the pleasant smile that hides the fact you're on the verge of murdering someone.
  “Is there a problem here?” Hades asks.
  “Who are you?” Lucius demands, and you very nearly laugh at his stupidity.
  Hades actually does laugh at his stupidity as he motions between you. “Surely you notice the family resemblance?”
  Lucius stares, and then it all clicks into place. His eyes widen, mouth dropping open in a look you can only label horror. He stumbles back and says, “Hades?”
  “A god,” you pipe up. “So watch what you say. I can't hold this one back.” You turn to Hades with an exasperated look. “Who let you crawl out of Tartarus again?”
  “Nobody lets me do anything, dear,” Hades replies, keeping his eyes on the horrified Lucius Malfoy. “I just heard what our little friend here was saying to you, and I thought I'd come and put him in his place. Can't have someone insulting my dear child, can I?”
  “You've never intervened before.”
  Hades pushes you backwards, ignoring what you've just said. “So, Lucius; would you like a little duel beforehand, or are you just going to let me end your life, plain and simple?” He pauses, and when Lucius doesn't reply, he adds, “There's no shame in taking the easy way out.”
  “Dad-”
  “Stay out of this, Y/N. This is between me and-”
  “Dad? What's wrong?”
  Your head snaps up. Draco is stumbling down the hill, eyebrows raised as he glances between Hades and his father. Your heart jumps at the sight of him.
  “Draco, pack up your things,” Lucius demands, staring at Hades as if afraid to look away lest your dad make any sudden movements. “We're leaving.”
  “Oh, happy days!” You rush forward and grab your fathers elbow, dragging him back as much as you can. “Did you hear that, Dad? They're leaving!”
  “I'm not going anywhere.”
  You whirl on Draco. “What do you mean you're not going anywhere? Can't you see the predicament we're in right now?”
  Draco raises his brow, clearly still confused as to what the hell he has just walked in on. “Who is this?”
  “This is my dad.”
  Draco's skin pales even more, if that is even possible. Hades turns, gives the young boy a pleasant little wave before he starts rolling up his sleeves, eyeing Lucius up again.
  “Oh, right,” Draco squeaks.
  You turn your attention back to Hades, latching onto his arm yet again. “Come on, Dad. This is pointless. They're leaving camp-”
  “Y/N, I'm not going anywhere before we talk.”
  “Draco, this really isn't the time-”
  “Make up your mind, Lucius. . .” Hades sing-songs. “Quick and easy, or slow and painful? I can do both.”
  Your heart hammers in your chest; this is not how you wanted things to go, not at all. You wish to every other god listening that Draco will just agree to go with his father, that he will leave and never return.
  But you don't really want that, do you?
  “Curse you, Zeus, you mind-reading bitch,” you hiss beneath your breath.
  Draco glances at you. “What?”
  “Never mind.” You grab Draco's shoulders and shove him back. “Just go, Draco, please. My dad is going to-”
  But you never get to tell Draco what your dad is going to do, not before Lucius Malfoy cries out, “Avada Kadavra!”
  You don't understand what's happened; the words just yelled by the Malfoy man are unfamiliar to you, jibberish if you've ever heard it, but Draco cries out and dashes forward. A blinding flash of light slams makes you stumble before Draco's arms wrap around your waist, throwing you to the ground with him hovering over you. When you open your eyes, his face is inches from your own, but neither of you get to bask in each others closeness, because all hell has suddenly broken loose.
  Hades is so powerful. Sometimes you forget that. You've read the stories, and you know he's a god, but sometimes, all he is to you is your annoying dad who shows up every now and then to be annoying, and then he leaves. Sometimes you forget he can literally raise the dead in two point six seconds.
  And judging by the corpses now stumbling around you, that's exactly what he has done.
  “Oh my god,” Draco mumbles.
  You push him away and clamber to your feet. “Dad, stop!”
  The wind is billowing, however, and your words fall on deaf ears. Lucius has fallen to the floor, staring up at your father with a look of pure, unfiltered horror. Hades stands over him, now in full god form, and the sight is breathtaking. He's at his full height now, standing over everyone with his arms outstretched. Dirt billows around him, and a black light emanates from his body, blinding if you weren't his child. Draco has fallen to the floor, covering his head with his arms, and you are so, so happy he has the common sense to look away.
  You stumble forward, latching onto your fathers clothes. “Dad, stop this now! Please!”
  “How dare you?” Hades's voice shakes the trees. His eyes are pitch black. He is a god. “How dare you use your filthy wizard spells against my child?”
  “I'm fine!” you cry. “Dad, I'm fine! Draco saved me! Look!” You helplessly wave your arms over your head. Beside you, a corpse laughs a high pitched laugh. You glare at it and say, “Shut up.”
  The wind only grows stronger as Hades continues to bellow his threats and his curses. Lucius is too stunned to even move. Behind you, Draco cries out your name, tries reaching for your sleeve, but you pull away and continue yelling up at your father, trying to make him see sense.
  “Dad, I'm fine! If you kill him, I'll never forgive you!” You grapple for something else, some other excuse you can use. “I'll – I'll never come back to Camp Half-Blood! I'll stay in the mortal world forever and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!”
   Hades falters. He glances down at you with those dark, sunken eyes and he says, “You know you're not safe there, Y/N. Don't joke about such things.”
  “Then let him go,” you beg. “Please, Dad. I never ask you for anything, but I'm asking – begging – you for this. Just let him go.”
   Hades tilts his head. “You're standing up for this piece of dirt?”
  “Draco,” you pant, as if that is enough explanation. “Draco just saved my life, Dad. The least you can do is spare his fathers life.”
  The wind dies down. Dirt topples back to the floor. The walking corpses drop to their knees before the soil reaches around them and drags them back into their graves, where hopefully they will remain for another few years. Slowly, your father shrinks back down to his usual five seven stature, his eyes gaining their normal dark colouring again. He continues staring.
  You stare back for only a second before you spin on your heel and march towards Draco. You yank him up by his collar and shove him back, hissing, “Go grab your stuff and get out of here. This is the shit you're gonna get wound up in if you stay. You don't deserve that.”
 Draco, flustered, grabs your shoulders and pushes back, keeping himself rooted to the ground. You want to cry. You need him to leave. You need him to be safe. You can't let him witness something like that ever again.
  “Please, Draco,” you croak out. “Save yourself the bother-”
  “You're crying.”
   You groan, quickly swiping beneath your eyes to rid yourself of the tears you didn't even realise were falling. “No, I'm not.”
   Draco wraps his arms around you and drags you into his shoulder. You don't really know why you melt into him in the way you do; it just kind of happens. Feeling the fabric of his shirt against your cheek, his arms around your shoulders, his body against yours – it's as if all the stresses of the evening flood out of you in a single swoop, replaced by a relief you didn't even know you were in such dire need of.
  It's like Hades and Lucius don't even exist any more. It's just you and Draco, swaying back and forth in the darkness, saying nothing and that being enough.
  “I'm not going anywhere,” he whispers. “Not until you know.”
  You pause, but don't pull away. “Until I know what?”
  “That – That you're special.”
  You look up, raising a brow. “Is that a demigod joke?”
  Draco groans, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “No. That's not what I meant. I meant – like – you're special to me.”
  “Okay...”
 He squeezes his eyes closed. “What I'm saying is, I don't want to leave you. I don't want to go back to the wizarding world and pretend I never met you. I want this – whatever this is – to last a long, long time.”
  Your heart thunders in your chest. Beneath you, the ground rumbles, like the floor is hungry. “Draco...”
  “I don't care what my father thinks of it,” he says, voice lower now. “I haven't been this happy in forever. I haven't met anyone like you before, and I'm so, so grateful you don't hate me.” He blinks. “Percy told me that, by the way – that you don't hate me. He wasn't lying, was he?”
  You laugh. “No, he wasn't lying.”
  “Oh, great.” He pulls you closer. “So, as I was saying-”
  “Oh, for the love of me!” Hades claps his hands impatiently. “Just kiss them already, you idiot! Why do mortals take so long to get to the point?”
  Draco looks over your shoulder, face going red. “Are you giving me permission to kiss Y/N?”
  Hades rolls his eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes. Just get on with it. I'm ageing.”
  “You're immortal, old man.”
  “Watch your mouth, little one, or you're grounded.”
  Your laugh is broken by Draco's kiss.
  In the background, Lucius yells in frustration, but he quietens as soon as he looks at Hades. You don't even care, though, because once again, it's like neither of them are really there. It's just you and Draco. There is no world separating you, there is no problems, you are the same. His hands trail along your jawline before crawling over the back of your neck, holding you in place, as if you would ever willingly pull away.
  Beneath you, the ground continues to growl. You imagine it's the dead people giving you a round of applause.
---
“Lumos.”
  You crack an eye open. Beside you, Draco shifts, lifting the covers further over his head. Through the thin material of the quilt, you can make out a dim yellow glow coming from Draco's wand.
  You roll onto your back, nudging his arm with your elbow. He pauses, taking a few seconds before he pulls the covers back down, revealing his messy bed head and bare torso. He gives you a grin and says, “What are you doing awake?”
   “You woke me,” you reply, before nodding towards the book resting on his lap. “What's that?”
  “Oh, this? Nothing. Just a little book I picked up from the library the last time I was at Hogwarts.”
  You raise a brow; you haven't seen Draco casually read in quite a while. Any time he has his head stuck in a book, it's usually to learn some new potion, or some new spell that he can show the harpies to impress them when they ask for a magic show. However, looking down at the book currently perched on his knees, you can see this isn't just some simple recipe book for wizards – the pages are filled with text, with very little pictures to accompany them.
  “Can I read it with you?” you ask.
  Draco's cheeks light up. “Maybe you should just go back to sleep. It's pretty late-”
  He goes quiet when you rest your drowsy head on his chest, tugging the quilt up to your chin. You hear him sigh, a noise of content before he looks down at the page and places his wand beneath the words. In bold at the top is the title Hades and Persephone.
  “Oh, my mum hated her,” you say.
  Draco chuckles. “I can imagine.”
   You trace your eyes over the words. You can't really make them out with your dyslexia, but Draco reads them for you, because he knows. He reads the story of your father and his true wife, pausing to ask you your opinions, or if you know anything about any of it. You tell him you don't, but you want him to keep reading, so he does, and together you learn about your father and his ways.
  Finally, when Draco reaches the end of that particular story, you look up at him and say, “Why are you reading this?”
   He shrugs. You don't buy it, though, and continue waiting for his response. He rolls his eyes at your patient silence and says, “Remember when you asked me if I'd ever read any of the Greek myths?”
  You raise a brow. “Yes...”
  “I hadn't read any of them. But I realised it's kind of part of your history, isn't it? These myths, the people and things you talk about. If I really want to understand you, I have to get familiar with a few of these terms, don't I?”
   A lump forms in your throat. “You're reading these for me?”
  “Of course.” He slams the book closed and says, “Quiz me. I can tell you who Demeter is right now.”
  You stare at him a moment longer, overwhelmed beyond words. Instead of giving Draco a pop quiz on all things Greece, you reach up and press your lips to his own, whispering the unknown words of “I love you,” against his mouth.
  Draco chuckles, the sound like music to your ears. “I love you, too.”
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mcustorm · 4 years
Text
45 M/M Gay Movies, Ranked
The other day I bit the bullet and decided to watch Brokeback Mountain for the first time. All I knew about that movie was that it was basically the CMBYN of yesteryear and somebody got killed with a tire iron. Anyways, so I finish the movie and realize that I’ve seen a *lot* of gay movies, especially in the last couple of years. So here are my rankings according to nothing but my personal preference. I won’t write about all of them, but you can ask about something if I leave it out.
I wish I could give you a rubric for this. The reality is, there are some radically different movies on this list with different tones and intentions. There’s buddy comedies, tearjerkers, small indie features, big theater releases. So trying to rank them all is TUFF.
The Way He Looks - Such a beautiful coming-of-age movie. Maybe the 2nd one I saw on this list? Perfect length, perfect characterization, simple yet compelling, clever. And nothing feels better than reaching a happy ending (for once, because some of these movies’ endings-- SHEESH) that’s been earned. It just hasn’t been topped.
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2. God’s Own Country
3. Pride
4. Kanarie - Yea, we don’t talk about this movie enough. It’s one of the most recent that I’ve seen. Beautiful. The way that it references apartheid and the war to reflect the protagonist’s feelings? Flawless.
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5. Jongens - The first movie that I saw on this list, gets many a bonus point for that.
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6. Moonlight - Yes, I am black. Yes, I understand this movie may be too low. Moonlight kind of scares me. In general, there’s not nearly enough discourse surrounding this one for me. But while it’s not exactly a popcorn-muncher, to me it’s the most personal movie on the list. When I look at Chiron and all that he’s been through, I can’t help but draw parallels to my own story up to this point. It holds a mirror up to me in a way that no other movie on this list does. That makes me uncomfortable.
But it is so poetic. Have you guys seen the script for this? The directing, the SOUNDTRACK, the acting. Phenomenal. 
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7. Weekend
8. Call Me By Your Name - Yes, I am aware of people’s beef with this one. Yes, I understand a lot of people may feel this one is overrated. While I do think this one gets worse on rewatch, the truth is, it’s not really *that* overrated because hot take: most (meaning over half) of the movies on this list range somewhere from “just okay” to “painstakingly bad”.
It’s the score, the cinematography, the subtext in most all of the dialogue, the acting, the way that you can smell the apricots through the fucking screen. People who say this movie is a vacation ad are fucking CORRECT. One of my biggest gripes however is that it’s too fucking long. And uh, that age difference...
And Armie Hammer’s a weirdo...
9. Dating Amber* - Dating Amber has one of those “Duh” premises that sounds like it could’ve been done like 30 times before yet I can’t think of any other examples of it. So what you’d think would be a wacky premise actually turns out to be a frankly poignant movie with an emotional story arc for the main two characters.
10. Hello Stranger: The Movie* - This movie, which is the first sequel (sorta) on the list, frankly had no business being as good as it was. Even though the web series is required viewing, I felt the movie fixed like all of the series’ issues: pacing, lack of compelling drama, the awkward quarantine format. The drama and stakes are there without us having to visit Angst City. And the theme and the ending reprise is HEAT.
11. Uncle Frank* -  Uncle Frank is like The Help of gay movies. Like The Help, it’s *overall* a short, sweet and fluffy movie set decades ago. Like The Help, you’ll still come out of it feeling pretty good even though it has some dark moments. Also like The Help, you’ll wonder after the fact if the central white girl absolutely needed to be so...well, central for this story to be told. Bonus points for Paul Bettany and Character Actress Margo Martindale.
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12. Brokeback Mountain - Tragic.
13. Moffie - Set during the South African border war, same as Kanarie. You even hear the word “moffie” throughout Kanarie. Anyways, this is a war movie for the gays, and a very intense watch. I liked that it was a much more realistic view of what a soldier endured during that period, and of course on the flip side I thought it was more thorough in its depiction of the rampant racism. I gotta find a good book on this era.
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14. A Moment In the Reeds
15. Get Real - Maybe the most out of place movie on the list. I need to rewatch it. I do recall absolutely loving the score, however. Like, I fucks with this:
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16. Freier Fall - When I finished Brokeback I was like, “Wait, wasn’t that just Free Fall with extra steps?” And yea, it kinda is. But even discount Brokeback is still pretty good.
17. Beautiful Thing - There are few things to like about this one, the relationship between the two guys, the mother’s love for her son even though it’s not all rainbows, that nice little final scene. I did not care for the dark-skinned woman being portrayed as, you know, the drug abusing, school dropout, gossipy, butt of jokes neighbor. But that guy really looks like Tom Holland tho.
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18. Love, Simon - It’s at this point that I move from “Yea, that movie is good, you should watch it!” to “Look, you may like it, you may not.”
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19. The 10 Year Plan - This movie is so fucking cheesy that there was cheddar coming though my speakers. But when I think of “Hallmark/Lifetime, but for the gays” this is the crown jewel. There’s some other movies on this list that could’ve taken some notes.
20. The Christmas Setup* - The trend of fluffy-white-gay-cable-network-movie continues and in good form. It’s not deep. It’s not really thought provoking. It’s cute. Fran Drescher is there. You should watch it.
21. Giant Little Ones
22. Hidden Kisses
23. Alex Strangelove - In a unique twist, the emotional core of this one is arguably between Alex and his girlfriend. All that ends up happening, however, is we the viewer keep wanting more Alex/Elliott scenes; those are the most electric in the whole movie. The end result is a hot yet endearing mess.
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24. Fair Haven
25. The Thing About Harry - Freeform’s attempt at making a cheesy rom-com for the gays. It’s...okay. I personally feel like the main character’s friend is highkey trifling but it’s whatever.
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26. Your Name Engraved Herein* - So I guess I’ve decided I officially hate angst. I mean, I get how it’s often necessary to tell an effective story, but I’m just not here for 2 hour indie angst fests that get passed off as “high art” anymore. I cannot do it. Somehow this is Brokeback’s fault...there just has to be a better way to tell gay stories in the 2020′s. Anyways, the last song was fuego.
27. The Perfect Wedding - Easily the most bizarre movie on this list. It’s so bad, I liked it a lot.
28. Naz and Maalik - The first half of the movie with the two leads just riffing is some pretty great stuff. The back half starts throwing plot developments that are just less than interesting.
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29. My Best Friend
30. The Curiosity of Chance
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31. Being 17 - Boring. Angsty.
32. And Then We Danced
33. Center of My World - Has some of the most trifling characters EVER. I was so angry. This movie for me has *0* rewatchability.
34. Just Friends
35. 4th Man Out - This movie was basically “a bro/Hangover-style movie, but for the gays.” I absolutely love the intention, but the execution was a little shoddy. One day we’re gonna get a flawless movie that nails what this movie was going for. I hope we remember this movie whenever that day comes.
36. Latter Days - So fucking preachy. 
37. GBF - Another bizarre one, but at least this movie gets how wacky it is.
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38. Beach Rats
39. Shelter - I’ve noticed a lot of people like this one. To that I say...yikes. Remember that scene from Family Guy where Peter says he doesn’t care for The Godfather? I did not care for Shelter. It insists upon itself (not really, but still).
40. Handsome Devil
41. Esteros - It’s at this point of the list that we shift from “Movies that are the definition of ‘ight’ “ to “These movies are bad. Bad. BAAAAAD.”
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42. Monster Pies
43. Were the World Mine - I couldn’t even finish it. Wanna watch a better musical? Go watch Kanarie. Wanna watch a better Shakespeare adaptation? The Lion King is the movie for you, or even fucking She’s the Man.
44. North Sea Texas - So boring. I actually think this one may need a rewatch, because I swear it shouldn’t have been as terrible as it was.
45. Salvation Army - I have no idea what this movie was going for. I understand that it is autobiographical, however...it simultaneously barely has any plot or character developments. This one has shades of Beach Rats, but it’s significantly worse, and I didn’t even like Beach Rats that much.
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So that’s it, thanks if you made it down this far. I guess I’ll update the list as I inevitably watch more of these. I would love movie recommendations! 
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itsmyusualphannie · 4 years
Text
watermelon sugar high
Title: watermelon sugar high (ao3) Beta: @counting2fifteen Artist: @violetofthesea Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: none Rating: T
Summary: Dan is the son of Hades, god of the Underworld, while Phil is the son of Hebe, goddess of youth and vitality. They couldn't be more different, but somehow they're friends (and maybe a little more). A Percy Jackson AU.
Author Notes: yes this is my second fic for @phandomreversebang! yes, it’s the day after my other one! no, i don’t have any shame! don’t forget to check out emma’s art for this fic!
~~~
It was mid-day and Phil’s neck was damp with sweat beneath the heavy rays of the sun high above. Chatter and clanging of utensils against dishes rang clear around him, the air heavy with the noise of over a hundred campers clustered around tables in the Dining Pavilion. Many of the tables were full, piled with teenagers and food, but a few of the tables around the edge of the gathering were sparsely occupied.
One table, in particular, had Phil’s attention. He watched it with one eye as he methodically made his way through the slab of roast beef, mound of mashed potatoes, and herbed vegetables piled on his plate. The table he was watching didn’t have a single occupant, though there should have been one. If the tables weren’t specifically assigned, Phil had no doubt he would be sitting there.
A ruckus arose from one of the tables across the pavilion. Phil could barely see what was going on, his sight hampered by the leaping flames of the bonfire in the centre of the arranged tables, but he could tell by the various bellowing and shrill yelling that something important was happening.
“We got another fuckin’ Apollo kid!” someone bellowed, and the table that was just beside Phil erupted. In a simultaneous motion, they rose and moved as a mass across the pavilion, whooping and leaping.
It was a claiming, then. Phil could see the kid now, jostled between two tall blonde-haired teens as they practically hauled him back toward the table they’d just vacated. The kid was wide-eyed in either excitement or terror, and Phil could see the bright golden laurel wreath glowing just above his head. It was an obvious symbol from his godly father, Apollo.
The kid was squeezed onto a bench at the table and immediately drawn into conversation with the others at the table, all of them his half-siblings. Phil watched them for a moment, entertained by the outgoing nature of the Apollo campers and the way they immediately drew in their newly-claimed half-brother. One of his closest friends, PJ, was an Apollo child - and there he was now, catching Phil’s gaze and waving. He had the familiar blinding grin that all of Apollo’s children seemed to claim, although unlike many of the others’ golden curls, his hair was tousled dark waves. He turned back to the new kid and joined the chatter directed at him, and Phil laughed a little before going back to his own food.
Phil’s table wasn’t nearly as crowded as the Apollo table. His godly mother, Hebe, didn’t quite have the same voracious sexual appetite that many of the major gods and goddesses seemed to have. There were less than a dozen of Phil’s half-siblings at the long table, and he wasn’t particularly close to any of them. His friends, collected through various training activities and games, were scattered around the pavilion at different tables.
There was PJ, son of Apollo, at the table right next to him; Natalie, daughter of Dionysus, a few tables away as she waved a cup of grape juice and laughed boisterously; Olly, son of Athena, navigating between his notebook and arguing with one of his siblings; and Louise, daughter of Aphrodite, fingers deep in one of her brother’s long silvery locks as she weaved his hair into a braid.
For the dozenth time since Phil had come to lunch, he looked over at the empty table at the edge of the pavilion. There was a single plate on the table, but no one ate from it. That was where Phil’s best of friends usually sat, but he was noticeably absent.
Around Phil, a few campers were already climbing from their seats and heading toward the bonfire in the middle of the pavilion, so he grabbed his plate and joined them. It took only a moment to scrape his leftovers into the crackling fire, the usual ritual that offered the smell of their feast to the gods, and then he headed out. He offered a wave to Olly, who was frowning intensely as he disputed with another Athena teen but returned Phil’s gesture, and swung by the empty table to steal the plate that was sitting unattended. It was still piled high with the same meal that Phil had eaten earlier. Phil supposed he had dumped a sufficient offering from his own plate to make up for taking this other, so he hopped down the steps to the pavilion and took off across the campground.
He knew where he needed to go. There was only one place his friend would be instead of the Dining Pavilion, where he would need to sit at a table alone, surrounded by too-loud campers and conversation in which he couldn’t partake.
The sound of boisterous chatter faded behind Phil as he struck out down the dirt pathway. He gripped the plate with both hands, more than a little worried that his natural clumsiness would somehow force him to trip over nothing and lose the food. The path may be smooth, but that didn’t mean much when Phil was walking on it.
It only took him a few minutes to reach the cabins, arranged neatly in a horseshoe pattern, but Phil barely cast them a look as he hurried past. The cabins, each named after its patron god or goddess, were designed and decorated in the style of their benefactor. Phil could see the Hermes cabin, still a good distance from it, and its overflowing trinkets and accumulated trash. It wasn’t quite as full as it used to be, but there were still a lot of Hermes’ children sleeping there.
Phil was grateful that he didn’t have many siblings since his cabin wasn’t too packed, but as his gaze fell upon the Big Three cabins - Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades - he couldn’t help the pang of compassion for the few children of those gods. There were only two of Zeus’ children, both gone on missions outside the camp; one of Poseidon’s sons, who Phil hadn’t seen since last summer; and one son of Hades. Their cabins, tall and glorious, seemed to loom over the others. The Zeus cabin was bright and almost painful to look at for more than a few seconds at a time, the Poseidon cabin was elegant and arched, like a wave crashing to the shore, while the Hades cabin was dark and ominous, shadows licking around the edges.
Phil was more familiar with the Hades cabin than any of the others. That one drew his gaze more than the others, even more than his own mother’s slender, golden cabin. He wondered for a moment if his friend was hiding there instead of eating lunch, but Phil shook off the thought. He didn’t want to second-guess himself, so he continued on down the path, passing cabin after cabin and the occasional other camper who had left lunch early.
He got a brief look at The Big House, where the camp director Chiron stayed, before he passed the Forge. Billowing grey clouds were drifting from the towering smokestacks and Phil could hear the ringing clang of hammer against metal inside. The Hephaestus children were hard at work, it seemed.
Someone screamed on Phil’s right and he jumped to the side just in time to avoid a pale-haired boy sprint past, his arms churning. A red-faced girl wearing full armour and a long, slender lance in one hand thundered after him, but the metal was slowing her down. A malicious laugh floated back from the boy, clearly a son of Hermes. If Phil didn’t recognise the girl bearing down on the boy as a daughter of Athena, he would have assumed her to be one of Ares’ children, with the way her muscles coiled and amber eyes burned bright with rage.
Phil watched them hurtle down the path back toward the cabins, and then they disappeared from view around the gleaming Apollo cabin. He was used to the antics, though, and he continued on undisturbed, the plate still gripped in his hands.
Rounding the Forge, he smelled the strawberry fields before he saw them. The sweet, delicate scent surrounded him, drowning out the blunt iron and copper smell emanating from the Forge. He made his way toward them, avoiding the miscellaneous gardening supplies scattered next to the low picket fence that surrounded the fields in a sloping sprawl. It looked like the Demeter kids hadn’t finished their gardening before lunch had been called.
The rows of strawberries were long. For ease of picking, they were on tall shelves of dirt almost three feet above the ground, with deep furrows between them. Phil made his way along the side of the fence, peering down the length of each row. They stretched for what seemed like miles, bright green plants dotted with red berries.
Finally, Phil spotted the person he was hunting. A figure was sitting cross-legged a few dozen metres down one row, his dark clothes and hair blending effortlessly with the rich earth surrounding him on two sides. He was slumped, head ducked over something in his lap.
Phil let out a little cheer and swung his leg over the squat fence. Even if it had been taller, it wouldn’t have made much difference, not with his impossibly long legs. He straddled it for a moment, balancing the plate with one hand, and then he was over it and trotting down the narrow pathway between the cleaved mounds of dirt. Despite their height, they barely reached his waist.
“Dan!” called Phil as he approached, but didn’t receive a reply nor an answering gaze. Huffing impatiently, he hurried a little faster. He tromped to a stop next to his friend and immediately dropped to the dirt next to him, his shoulders thumping awkwardly against the dirt walls. His hair barely brushed the stalks of the strawberry plants beside him, and now that he was amongst them, their scent was overwhelmingly cloying and saccharine. He could almost taste them on his tongue.
“Hey,” Phil prodded, nudging Dan with his elbow. “I brought you lunch.” He offered the plate.
Dan looked up, and Phil could see what he had been preoccupied with. It was a slim Nintendo DS, the dancing graphics pausing as Dan lifted his thumbs. “Thanks,” he said, his voice almost a croak. He coughed, clearing his throat. “Um,” he tried again, “yeah. Thank you.” He offered the handheld console to Phil, and they traded items. Dan clutched the still-warm plate like the most delicate of flowers, while Phil folded his fingers around the console and peered down at it.
“Mario Kart?” he asked, delighted.
Dan nodded, mouth already stuffed with a spoonful of mashed potatoes. “Mm,” he said and then rolled his eyes long-sufferingly at the pleading gaze Phil shot him. He swallowed his mouthful. “Yeah, whatever, go ahead.”
Beaming, Phil unpaused the game and began playing where Dan had left off. He only dedicated half of his attention to the gameplay, glancing up at Dan every few seconds to make sure he was eating.
Dan polished off his plate in record time. Phil would have been worried that he hadn’t eaten all day if he hadn’t seen him at the pavilion for breakfast that morning. He set the plate on the ground, the side opposite to Phil’s position beside him, and just watched Phil as his fingers sped over the controls.
“Still hungry?” Phil finally asked, pausing the game and looking from the empty plate to Dan.
Dan shrugged, which was as good as a spoken reply. Phil handed the console back and reached over his head, feeling the thick berry plants with careful fingers. The rough leaves brushed against his hands, but he didn’t stop until he closed his fingers around the distinct form of a thick berry. He withdrew them, brushing the few specks of dirt from the strawberry. It was dark red and plump, clearly ripe for picking.
Phil offered it to Dan, but Dan didn’t reach out for it. Instead, he leaned forward toward Phil, eyes dark as he parted his lips expectantly. Phil quirked a smile subconsciously, but he didn’t hesitate, placing the tip of the berry against Dan’s mouth and sliding it forward until Dan’s teeth closed down over the fruit, biting it in half. Phil held it up until Dan had swallowed that portion, then pressed it up against his lips again until he bit into that as well.
He plucked another berry without delay, briefly dusting it before holding it out again. Dan obediently ate it as he had done with the previous, lips gleaming with the juice from the ripe berries. Phil fed him another half-dozen before Dan sat back, apparently satiated.
Phil flicked away the leafy portion of the strawberry that Dan hadn’t eaten, but it flipped through the air and landed stubbornly on Dan’s jeans. The dark green was a stark contrast against Dan’s black trousers. Phil snorted a laugh. “You could use a little colour in your life,” he told Dan, who didn’t look impressed as he swiped at the discarded leaves until they fell to the packed dirt beside him.
“My outfit is an aesthetic and stylistic choice,” said Dan primly, tossing his head as though he had long, flowing locks and not tightly-wound curls and buzzed sides of his hair.
Phil eyed Dan’s black shirt with a faint shimmering skeleton outline, the tiny silver hoop in his right ear, the tight dark jeans, the black high-top shoes, and let his gaze linger as he trailed it back up to Dan’s eyes. “Sure,” he finally said, amused. “You’re not at all going with your father’s Underworld theme.”
Dan shrugged nonchalantly, picking at a root that was protruding from the dirt just beside his shoulder. “Just because Hades is my dad doesn’t mean I have to dress like this. It’s a personal choice.”
“Of course,” Phil agreed, grinning at the faux-offended, half-hearted punch Dan offered to his knee. “Ow.” He plucked another strawberry and glanced quickly at it before he lifted it to his own lips, and he was glad he did look at it. There was a shrivelled brown area near the tip of the berry. He narrowed his eyes at it. A familiar sensation made its way known deep in his chest, burning hot and spreading through his body, down his arms, to his hand. A faint glimmer manifested on his fingertips, feeling like the tiny pop-crackle from a flame, and enveloped the berry in a swarm of small flickering sparks.
The berry trembled in his grip, and then all at once, it was visibly shifting, the dark red of the berry smoothly slipping over the withered area. In an instant, it was a normal strawberry with no defects. The warm feeling withdrew from Phil’s hands, arms, shoulders, and nestled back into that small space in his chest that he rarely let loose. He surveyed the berry again, pleased at the plumpness of the skin, then popped the entire fruit in his mouth.
Dan had watched the entire procedure with a curious expression. No matter how many times he had seen Phil de-age various items, he still seemed to find it fascinating. Phil wasn’t sure why, since in his opinion, Dan’s otherworldly communication with and control of the dead seemed far more exciting than Phil’s ability to restore a few small objects to their past glory. Their individual parents’ gifts were always useful in some unique way, though.
A bell rang in the distance, the clear sound making its way even to the strawberry fields where they both hid from the rest of the camp. Dan and Phil startled in unison, then laughed at themselves. Time had gotten away from them, and they hadn’t even noticed, although that wasn’t particularly unusual.
Phil reluctantly stood, his legs almost wobbly beneath them as he grabbed the dirt row next to him for balance, and then held out a hand for Dan. Accepting the help, Dan gripped his hand and hauled himself up, tucking the Nintendo console into his back pocket. 
They both looked back down at the empty plate Dan had cleared off with disconsolate expressions, then at each other. Instantly, their hands flew up and they touched their nose, speaking in unison, “Not it!”
Dan sighed, dropping his hand. He had been a fraction too slow. “Damn it.” He eyed the plate, lying at a lopsided angle on a lump of dirt.
Phil realised what he was going to do an instant before he did it. “Dan!” he protested, but it was too late. Dan lifted a foot and stomped the ground, which split beneath the contact. A narrow, yawning chasm opened beneath Dan’s feet and stretched hungrily toward the plate. It wavered on the edge of the crevice, then gave out and toppled into it. It fell endlessly, spinning round and round into the gaping darkness in the opening. Dan tapped his foot against the ground again, considerably less aggressively, and the chasm sealed itself shut, leaving nothing out of place but a few disrupted clumps of dirt where it had been.
Phil glowered half-heartedly at Dan. “Now we’re going to have a missing plate,” he attempted to scold him. “Also, blatant misuse of your death powers.”
Dan shrugged. “No one’ll notice.” Phil noticed that he didn’t refute the “death powers” title, as he was clearly pleased by it.
“Fine,” Phil sighed. It wasn’t much point arguing further; besides, now neither of them had to haul the plate back to the dining pavilion. Maybe some skeleton or spirit deep in the Underworld would appreciate the crumbs of food still clinging to the plate. Or would they? Phil wondered if they could eat the food if they found it. Could they eat the plate?
Dan tugged Phil’s arm and he started out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh. Ready for riding lessons?”
Sighing, Dan began trudging toward the fence, out of the row of strawberries. “You mean, ready to watch you pretend you’re not terrified of horses?”
“Hey!” Phil complained, following him. “I don’t pretend! I think it’s pretty obvious to everyone that I don’t like them.”
Dan snorted a laugh. They reached the fence and Dan went over it with an easy hop. He waited until Phil joined him, and then they began walking along the fence back toward the main area of the camp. The stables were visible from here, although barely.
Grass whispered against Phil’s ankles as he trudged alongside Dan. He stole a few glances over, but Dan noticed almost immediately.
“What?”
Phil laughed. “Nothing! I just like looking at you, that’s all.” He was gratified by the patchy blush that crawled up Dan’s jaw and cheek.
“Shut up,” he grumped, but a smile was creeping over his lips. 
Phil poked Dan’s deepest dimple and offered his own grin. “Remember when we first met? You were all quiet and sullen with your fully-black outfit and Pokémon hat. You were so annoyed when I started talking to you.”
“How could I forget? You hauled me into your friend group and forced me to get along with everyone.” Dan batted Phil’s hand away from his face, but when Phil pouted at him, he gave in and grabbed his hand to clutch between them. 
Phil swung their clenched hands between them, delighted. “They’re our friends,” he rejoined. “It’s been almost five years since you showed up here as an eleven-year-old dork, you don’t exactly have plausible deniability now.”
Pretending to be disgruntled, Dan tugged at their shared grip, and Phil stumbled a little, catching himself with a laugh. “I can deny whatever I want.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.” Phil stopped abruptly and Dan was jolted to a stop. He tugged Dan toward him until only inches were between them, and then he leaned forward to steal a kiss from Dan’s lips. He tasted like strawberries, which was to be expected.
Dan’s flush was even more prominent when Phil pulled back, licking his lips at the sweet flavour that clung to them now. “You suck,” was all Dan said, but his eyes were bright and betrayed the lie, and Phil grinned at him.
“Yeah,” he agreed. Unable to help himself, he kissed Dan again, and then settled back on his heels, satisfied. “Can’t deny that.”
Dan looked like he was torn between flipping off Phil or pulling him back in for another kiss. He settled for sticking his tongue out, but Phil only laughed again. He never laughed as much as he did with Dan.
Another bell chimed in the distance, the last warning before riding lessons began. They looked at each other, dark brown gaze meeting bright blue, and then, in mutual unspoken agreement, they turned and began sprinting toward the stables in the distance, hands still clasped between them.
It was mid-day and sweat clung not only to Phil’s back but also to his hand gripped in Dan’s. He couldn’t be happier.
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zeldasnotes · 4 months
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𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖞 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊
𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖊
𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔
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Destinn(6583) conjunct Moon: You can feel it at the first meeting that you were destined to meet. Love this aspect.
Moon conjunct Venus: I had this with a friend I met in high school. Her Venus conjunct my Moon and she was like conditioner to my soul. She made me feel so loved & we were always sickeningly sweet to eachother and complimenting eachother.
Mercury 12th house synastry: I looked up the charts of the two guys in my neighbourhood who used to snitch about me to my dad. Told my dad any rumour about me & what guys Ive been involved with etc. Both of them have their Mercury in my 12th house.💀
Chiron conjunct Personal Planets: This is common between people who have had beef for years because the wound just wont go away even tho from the beginning the beef started over something small and you want to hurt the other just as bad as they hurt you. And you think you are the only one whos hurt so you keep picking on eachother. Just hearing the others name can be triggering. Chiron can be so healing but also so incredibly painful. ❤️‍🩹
Composite Aries Rising: This can make the dislike or tension very obvious to others. My dad and stepmom have this and everyone knows they treat eachother badly. The first thing you notice it the tension between them. I have this with a few people who i know dislike me and i them and people notice it instantly.
Saturn in the composite chart: Saturn seems to act like glue in the composite since it rules time. It can make you stuck on someone either positively or negatively based on the rest of the chart.
Venus 8th house: Venus is fascinated by 8th house persons appearance even if house person is not their type. They might find the house person super sexy & mysterious.
8th house synastry: I love 8th house synastry but whats so sad is that one of you will transform by this relationship and after a while you are not the same people you were before. There is a risk of just being a ”lesson” in eachothers life. But when its meant to last its wonderful.
8th house synastry: Another thing I find annoying with 8th house synastry is when I can tell someone doesnt like me but still is allll up in my face bc they have planets in my 8th house and therefore have some kind of weird obsession/fascination going on.
Ascendant Square Ascendant: Me and my dad have this in synastry and we just dont get eachothers behoviour. Like WHY are you behaving like that?
Dislike for no reason: I dont really believe in ”dislike for no reason” because I think there is always something behind disliking someone otherwise you need serious help but everytime someone disliked me for seemingly no reason there was harsh Mars Squares involved or 12th house synastry. Especially their Mars Squaring or Opposite my Sun or Moon.
Different energies & misunderstandings: Me and my dad have good synastry but he is very fire dominant and Im very water dominant. He sees my need for alone time and shyness as something unattractive. For him people are supposed to be brave, confident, social and loud otherwise you are insecure and weird. For me I find quiet confidence attractive but he sees it as not having confidence at all.
Venus conjunct Pluto: This is someone I used to go to yoga with. She was much older than me. The first time I saw her I was like WOW, thats the hottest women Ive ever seen. My Pluto was conjunct her Venus.
Venus conjunct Nemesis(128): Seen this in the synastry chart between two bestfriends where the nemesis person were secretly messing around with the Venus person boyfriend. She was an enemy(nemesis) when it came to love(venus).
Composite Sun conjunct Pluto: Intense! I have this with the woman I had the most dirty beef with for years. But I also have it with some guy I had a very beautiful and intense bond with.
Lilith conjunct Mars: Lilith would fight anyone for the Mars person.
Moon 5th house: Ive seen this very often lead to the Moon person idealizing the 5th house person a lot.
4th house synastry/composite: This can mean you enjoy a very ”down to earth” life together. I know some people with this who just like to do gardening, cooking, decorating the home and stuff like that together. They dont feel a strong need to go out and do stuff to enjoy eachothers company. 👨‍👩‍👦🪴
Lilith 10th house: Can make Lilith person threathened by house persons social status/reputation/image. Powerstruggles. Recognizing eachothers social climbing ways. Attracted to 10th house persons image.
10th house synastry/composite: 10th house synastry can make yall enjoy to go out a lot or show eachother off. Might really like to be seen together/make eachother look good.
Vertex conjunct Personal Planets: You WILL meet. Avoid eachother all you want you will keep running into eachother. Ive ran into people I had this synastry with time and time again until we talked. When we finally talked to eachother or had some kind of relationship that later ended we stopped running into eachother.
Mars 8th house: This synastry overlay feels like the universe is trying to force yall to do it but at the same time there is always a reason why you cant.
Top 5 ”I cant resist you” placements: Ive noticed Mars 8th house, Moon 8th house, Venus conjunct Pluto, Lilith conjunct Moon & Nessus conjunct Ascendant to be the top 5 placements that makes it almost impossible to resist eachother. (According to me)
Chiron conjunct Mars: Doing it with eachother leaves you feeling like you just had a theraphy session. Healing and raw.
Mars 3rd house synastry: This can lead to the Mars person gossiping a lot about the house person. This can be very annoying for the house person because the Mars person just wont stop talking about them.
Mars 3rd house: The positive part of this synastry overlay is that you find eachothers voice super hot. Can lead to some hot conversations on the phone 😏🔥
Venus 10th house composite: I have this with a guy and let me tell you we look GOOD together. We like the same colors so we always match, we have a similar style, similar height, similar way of behaving in public. People with this in the composite seem to often resemble eachother in some way.
Composite Moon conjunct Venus: Enjoying every second with eachother.🥹❤️‍🔥
©️ 2024 Zeldas Notes All Rights Reserved
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astroismypassion · 4 years
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In reference to platonic synastry question, so she would be kinda jealous me or I would unintentionally hurt her? What if my Venus conjuncts her Ascendant , Moon conjunct her Venus but her Chiron squares my moon?
Yes, exactly! She won’t be as jealous though, more like you rub her the wrong way... And you would definitely subconsciously hurt you a bit or bring certain old insecurities. 
Her Ascendant conjunct Venus
She might try to “imitate” how you express your personality or you would find each others personalities a bit too similar, which might be annoying later on. 
Her Venus conjunct Moon 
This is rather harmonious aspect, natural good energy. 
Her Chiron square Moon 
Again, how you express and not express your emotions might bother her. 
Why do you bother about this particular person so much? Do you have beefs with her haha?? I don’t understand...
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vohalika · 7 years
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I suffer for my art
For an article appearing on thefandomentals.com, I actually sat down (with a lot of booze) and subjected myself to watching the Lightning Thief movie again. Here are unfiltered live notes, so everyone can suffer with me.
(Why yes I do channel cinema sins. just a little bit)
·         The first 10 seconds do away with the one core rule of the franchise; as Poseidon for some reason steps out of a river, a fisherman SEES him. The books avoid this by having a thing called “mist” exist that keeps mortals from seeing ancient greek mythology stuff going on. Unless, of course, that particular fisherman was blessed with clear sight and is destined to be the next oracle. Suck it, Rachel.
·         Oh god, Sean Bean is in this movie, and he doesn’t even die. That alone says everything about the quality you need to know.
·         Why the fuck are they meeting in mortal forms on the empire state building? Yes, that’s where Olympus is, but Olympus is metaphysically ABOVE the fucking building, not the deck they’re on, which would be crowded at any and all times of day.
·         Okay. So they meet here to discuss exposition. Zeus knows Poseidon has a son. Zeus is also to blame for Poseidon never contacting said son. I mean, technically it’s a pact the two of you made with your other brother after he spawned Hitler and a world war happened, but, uh, is that even canon to this movie?
·         Okay, Sean Bean establishes the summer solstice as a deadline. Keep that in mind. SUMMER SOLSTICE.
·         Why do we put the plot into the first three seconds of the film? Was Columbus afraid we’d fall asleep after this and wouldn’t be able to catch up?
·         Okay real talk Logan LErman would have been the perfect Percy about 5 years before this movie was made. He grew up a little too baby faced to still be a good fit for battle hardened don’t fuck with me Percy of the follow up series, but still, such a missed opportunity.
·         Okay so Percy regularly hangs out at the bottom of the swimming pool for 7 minutes to think. That’s, ah. Weird. You know. If you do that regularly, people might notice. And Grover, whose job is to keep him safe, and also to technically keep him from realizing he’s not quite human, is encouraging this. Because. Sure. Why not.
·         OKAY. SO. They kept the NAME of the school, but not the boarding school aspect. They turned Mrs. Dodds into an English teacher so she could make a joke about the word fury in Othello. And they choose to establish the dyslexia and ADHD thing during dialogue while not actually showing any ADHD symptoms. I can’t quite talk about how well they do with the dyslexia, but from what we see, it’s the letters just fogging over and randomly turning into Greek letters which is not how it is described in the books at all. Seems more like Percy needs glasses here.
·         Oh my fucking god. Gabe comes home, sits down in the uncomfortable kitchen chair, demands beer and smacks Sally on the ass, and both Percy and Sally treat him like a rude house guest maybe, not like the abusive asshole he’s actually supposed to be. Percy even stands up to him and thinks it’s necessary to explain that this is his mother and he will not have her sexualized in this kitchen. Gah.
·         How can this house both be Gabe’s while at the same time, he never held down a job?
·         Also Percy comes into the pretty house at the ground floor and calls for his mother who is like on the third floor. Is that entire house theirs? If so, damn, Gabe is a rich unemployed white trash person.
·         Oh and now Poseidon just randomly wanders around New York to stalk his son amazing
·         Percy wears headphones during the plot related exposition at the MOA
·         At least he’s fidgeting now. That’s progress.
·         OKAY. So Ms. Dodds pulls Percy aside in the middle of the lesson, and Grover and Mr. Brunner can totally leave too to help him. They also cut the action sequence but sure, whatever.
·         Percy gets weirdly ableist when Grover says he’s his protector. Like, in the books Percy’s objection to that was that Grover was constantly being bullied and Percy had to stand up for him.
·         In fact, Percy and Grover could possibly pass for cool kids here; neither of them look like losers. Percy is pretty and has amazing abs. That’s… Completely contrary to how book!Percy feels. Like, he gets better once he reaches the age where boys stop looking like cave trolls, but, uh, that takes a while.
·         Then they go home to Sally, Grover downs Gabe, and they run off, and Gabe’s poker buddies just let them be. What.
·         They start conversation about the father while the sun is setting in New York City, and only commence it in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere
·         The minotaur who just toppled their car is suddenly all the way up the hill. Wow.
·         Sexist edit: In the books, Percy’s mom explains to him how to fight the minotaur. Here, he just kinda figures it out himself.
·         Okay. Two dumb things: With the mom evaporated just before the camp gates, why do they fight the minotaur at all? In the books, Percy is half a mile away from the camp when the showdown happens and he fights to save himself and his mom. Here, he just charges out there to avenge his mom even though the magical gate is right there.
·         Second: instead of going for his sword, the actual weapon, Percy goes for the horn stuck in the tree, almost getting skewered himself. Now, the narrative for some reason rewards him for this, but this is just dumb. And there was also no indication that the horn was going to work better than the sword, which is also right there and not stuck in a tree.
·         The fury roughed him up more than the minotaur did, and yet this is the part where he falls unconscious
·         Grover is BUFF
·         He’s supposed to be a scrawny loser kid with anxiety issues
·         Also nursing Percy is Annabeth’s part. This is important. Ish.
·         Yeah, okay, Grover giving Percy the tour is… Unfortunate. In the books, there were actual adults giving him these talks, and also Annabeth, and you get the feeling Satyrs are veeeeery low on the pecking order. Also, Mr Brunner was there to actually take him seriously
·         Also, the camp just looks wrong. Way wrong.
·         UGH
·         UUUUUGH
·         OKAY
·         We’re introduced to BRUNETTE Annabeth while a bunch of people do badly choreographed battle around her. This is wrong. This is so wrong.
·         Annabeth is good in a fight, yeah. But her main asset is her brain. And the first glimpses we get of her is taking care of Percy, both nursing him and giving him the tour, because she piecing together how he fits into a prophecy that concerns her and is her ticket out of there.
·         Also they kind of combine her role in this movie with that of Clarisse, who is a daughter of Ares and a bully like the ones Percy never had to face here. I have no idea why they did that, and it’s even more ridiculous since Clarisse appears in the sequel.
·         Why did they have to put more than one centaur in here, they’re supposed to be party animals roaming the countryside, EXCEPT for Mr. Brunner who is Chiron fuck everything
·         Okay. They also conflated the daughters of Aphrodite with the naiads that are around, and both groups would NEVER give Grover the time of day. Buuut I guess considering where this leads, we do have to play up his sex appeal, huh?
·         OKAY. The cabins in the books are actual fancy and pretty houses, befitting Greek gods. Being claimed by a god is also a special thing, and the fact that it is special contributes greatly to the 5 book story arc. Here, they just shove Percy into a weird wooden structure full of sailing paraphernalia specifically built for him.
·         Okay so apparently the only danger kids of the big 3 pose is making the other big 3 jealous for some reason, not because they literally kicked off the world wars
·         And apparently, Gabe’s smell isn’t supposed to keep monsters away, but the other gods?!
·         Well I mean everyone seems to have known about Percy, sooo
·         Also Percy has no way to integrate into camp or anything , has no connection to any of these people, anything
·         Luke is missing a scar, and is also completely creepy from the get go
·         Why do we keep getting meaningful close ups of Annabeth, what is she supposed to mean to anyone at this point
·         Why was she fighting with a knife minutes ago and is nnow using a bow and arrow, it’s Athena not Artemis
·         This game of cpture the flag is stupid
·         And also undercuts Annabeth’s actual point
·         In the books this involved like tactics and shit
·         But like, I commend the script for making Percy lampshade how ridiculous this all is
·         It’s just that capture the flag had a narrative purpose, too, which is null and voide when he was already claimed
·         Also Percy is such an idiot for just going for the flag like that
·         Annabeth has boob plate
·         "My mother is goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. You know what that means?" - IT MEANS YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO TAKE OFF YOUR HELMET WHILE FACING AN ENEMY WITH A SWORD.
·         AND ALSO YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO MONOLOGUE AT AN OPPONENT
·         WHAT IS HER BEEF WITH PERCY? Yes, he rudely stared at you for a while, but why do you need to cut him up like that?!
·         She just beats him down and nobody does a thing they all just stand around staring what the fuck
·         And then everyone cheers when she’s done beating down the completely untrained new kid?! WHAT THE FUCK
·         ArE YOU ALL BRAAVOSI WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON
·         THERE ARE BLUE FORCES RIGHT BEHIND YOUR FLAG WHY ARE THEY NOT DOING ANYTHING
·         Percy, who already knows he’s a son of Poseidon needs to be told by divine intervention to go to the water, the only place he actually liked before
·         Brief contact with water then turns him into superman and has him actually sort of beat Annabeth
·         Though not as cruelly as she beat him
·         And then everyone just lets him walk to the flag. Why the fuck.
·         You know who actually figured out how the water powers worked? Annabeth!
·         You know who actually made a battle plan to get the flag for the blue team? ANNABETH!
·         Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah
·         Percy gets party invitations. The fuck.
·         Annabeth chases them away and then flirts with him for some reason. Percy is also completely turned on by a public beat down.
·         “I definitely have strong feelings for you” whaaaat the fuck. Whaaaaaaat the fuck. This is soooo weird.
·         WHERE IS MY FIVE BOOK AWKWARD PUBERTY SLOW BURN
·         Oh hello flame demon. How nice of you to just show up like that and deliver the plot to us
·         Okay. So. Hades wants the bolt, but outright states that he doesn’t have it. So far, the plans are to talk to one of two enraged gods and convince them he didn’t take the bolt. That’s…Not much of a plan at all unless someone here knows how to cast a zone of truth spell or something
·         Hades now comes along and offers his mom in exchange for the bolt, instead of being framed for everything like in the books, and the camp counsellors just… leave Percy alone after that?
·         Like, not only Grover, but the random chick who brutally tore into him in front of a crowd figured out he was going to bail without ever receiving a tiny bit of training, guys. This is stupid.
·         Annabeth wants a quest. Sweetheart, this is not a quest. There is a protocol to these things, as you would know. A god has to assign it, there has to be a clear objective, and at least according to camp regulations, a prophecy, and the entire thing has to be official. But sure. Tag along with the random unprepared kid who’s going to get his mom.
·         OH THAT’S JUST GREAT YEAH Annabeth would not know how to get to the underworld, she has to go ask A MAN for info SOMEONE SHOOT ME
·         Luke is in a completely empty cabin with a gaming console and flat screens and pokes fun at the ren faire feel
·         Luke, Annabeth has daddy issues completely independent from her godly parent but okay fine
·         YEAH LUKE LECTURE US ON GREEK MYTHOLOGY
·         NO NOT LIKE THAT
·         Okay so my personal interpretation of Persephone is more that of an ancient times beauty and the beast kind of deal, so that she’s not entirely unhappy
·         Also like, Greek mythology has a maaaaaajor Madonna/whore complex. Maaaaajor. And while she’s not one of the chastity goddesses, Persephone kiiiinda doesn’t fall in the dedicated adulteress part of that spectrum
·         But foreshadowing. I get it.
·         Convenient map is convenient
·         Super literal soundtrack
·         Also they still haven’t told us where the underworld is or how to get in there, just that it’s easy
·         “Let’s split up, check everything” Greeaaat plan, Percy. And then just go looking around without actually looking thoroughly
·         Now Annabeth is dragged along screaming and Grover actually knows how is greatuncle died and is the one to figure out what’s going on. Great.
·         Like, in the books, he still finds his uncle Ferdinand, but no one ever knew what happened to him because he got lost during a search at a place where no one really returns from
·         Annabeth is the first one to figure out that the nice woman giving them burgers and asking them to pose for pictures is not their friend and saves both Grover and Percy, and Percy figures out who she is himself immediately after, before the veil comes off and the snakes start hissing
·         Oh, Uma Thurman, you are too good for this
·         I need to watch Kill Bill after this just to calm down
·         It’s weirdly cathartic to fight your own murderous instincts
·         CALL ATTENTION TO ANNABETH’S HAIR JUST TO RUB IT IN WHY DON’T YOU
·         Annabeth knows this story dammit
·         Also villain monologue
·         I dunno, Uma, you’re still pretty hot like that
·         At least Percy figures out the reflection thing
·         Ugh Annabeth has to get rescued
·         How can you sense him if you were surprised by his presence before?
·         Percy says he can look at her reflection and then throws away the phone he’s using to look at her when he actually sees her
·         Where the fuck did they get the car
·     ��   How did Annabeth learn to drive at camp
·         She can sense him, sees him coming, and he still gets to cut off her head from behind
·         And then she conveniently carried around the pearl with her
·         DID THIS MOVIE JUST IMPLY PERSEPHONE GOT FREAKY WITH MEDUSA?!
·         How do they get a motel room, do they actually have credit cards or something? What the fuck.
·         Yeah okay I don’t feel creepy at all looking at Logan Lerman’s naked torso some more
·         So I guess Percy’s ocean powers in this movie work like waterbending and can also heal other people
·         How he figured that out? No idea. Why he doesn’t start carrying around water everywhere he goes for just this purpose?
·         And aaaalso I think the more significant story for the animosity between Athena and Poseidon would be how he fucked Medusa in her temple, but sure. The story about Athens.
·         Book!Annabeth, when prompted, brings up both, by the way.
·         Why is it forbidden for all gods to interact with their kids?
·         DID SHE SAY SALLY UGLIANO?! SALLY JACKSON NEVER TOOK HIS NAME AND THAT IS FUCKING IMPORTANT
·         Why is there laundry service in the middle of the night?
·         And how did they get to check out after that?
·         Yeah okay this Parthenon business is completely not in the books
·         “I wonder if she really looks like that” Okay okay cutting out the field trip is fucking stupid
·         No one checks the bathrooms before closing up the place?
·         And no on turns off the lights in the bathrooms?
·         Cleaning staff ruining the day yet again
·         Every time Annabeth shoots anything in this movie I die a little on the inside
·         Also hey, there are more black people in this movie than Grover and Persephone, and they all work in maintenance
·         Ugh, son of Poseidon taking to the air
·         Aaaand the maintenance squad has been possessed
·         Annabeth gets to point out the obvious, Percy is on fire like it’s no big deal, and Hail Hydra isn’t even a thing yet. At least not in the main stream.
·         Flying shoes are now fully attuned and working for him
·         Annabeth shoots shit again
·         At one point, it is a plot point that children not of Apollo aren’t that good at archery
·         And Annabeth in the books fights with a knife, an invisibility cap, and her wits, and never shoots shit
·         Medusa petrifies the hydra through fire
·         Okay then
·         Where do they get their money for food from
·         That’s a major obstacle in the books
·         The credit cards they totally have?
·         And the gas money for that car
·         Okay so the underworld is actually visually striking and could have had potential
·         Hades is actually vengeful and out to kill the other gods
·         Persephone mentions her allotted time away from him, but is still there before the solstice.
·         She double crosses Hades because she hates him and shit, it’s weird
·         And then she hits on what for all intents and purposes is an underaged boy
·         The staredown is sooo unsatisfying and thematically rrelevant
·         Luke just conveniently happened to flutter around the empire state building close to midnight because….?
·         Does this camp have no security?
·         The fight is badly, badly choreographed
·         Luke also just has delusions of grandeur and wants to ascend to gdhood or something
·         “You’Re no hero” – actually, per definition, he is.
·         Also, this fucking lightning bolt is supposed to be more powerful than nuclear bombs, STOP USING IT IDIOTS
·         And then Luke just kinda chills on top of the building, waiting for Percy to come and angage him in aerial combat like a video game boss
·         Okay if you’re using the lightning bolt, fucking use it
·         HOW CAN PERCY’S SWORD REFLECT IT DAMMIT
·         No, really, if a celestial bronze sword can do that, what’ so great about it in the first place
·         They use this thing like a flashier version of a tazer
·         Also, they’re right underneath Olympus, you’d think the gods might actually intervene this close to their home turf
·         Luke then uses Percy’s lack of proficiency at aerial combat to suggest he might be no son of Posedong after all… Which I agre with, actually, because Zesu would blast any sons of Poseidon out of the air immediately
·         He also effectively reminds Percy of his waterbending powers, so he can make water tanks explode for dramatic final battle poses
·         The bolt somehow doesn’t electrocute Luke when caught in a tidal wave
·         Water somehow knocks Luke’s shoes off
·         Mortals are allowed to go to Olympus
·         Ah wait, just to ride the elevator up there
·         Athena has a random British accent
·         And the gods are arguing, completely oblivious to what’s going on, but also totally prepared for imminent war
·         With each other in a council chamber
·         Riiight
·         Also the movie gave absolutely no reason for Luke to be angry
·         Athena and Poseidon are conveniently already standing
·         Zeus just like that agrees to bring Grover from the underworld WHICH IS NOT EVEN HIS DOMAIN
·         Poseidon gets to talk to Percy and doesn’t even shrink down to do it. They never say why the gods aren’t allowed to talk to their children
·         …Gods become human when they spend too much time with mortals? AND THAT’S WHY THEY’RE NOT ALLOWED TO VISIT THEIR CHILDREN?! WHAT IS THIS BULLSHIT?!?!!?!?!
·         Zeus and Poseidon are RIVALS. Godhood can be BESTOWED. The rational thing to do would have been to let him become human and appoint a new god of the sea loyal to Zeus
·         You’d think some tactical minded deity who doesn’t like Poseidon very much would have thought of that
·         Sally can just kick out Gabe, just like that
·         Chiron is totally into students disobeying. Let word of that get around, and everyone will run away and be eaten by monsters, defeating the entire purpose of the camp
·         Gd dammit you kids have no chemistry and with the intense eyes and same hair color look more like siblings
·         Making this almost kiss really uncomfortable.
·         Also, how is Percy suddenly able to stand up against her clunky pirouette fighting without having stepped into water first?
·         Ugh
5 notes · View notes
jflashandclash · 7 years
Text
Blood of a Mayan
 Twenty-Seven: Ajax
Learning Nothing in Life is Free… Except Free Vouchers
 There is no good way to apologize for death threats. Sure, you could send someone flowers and a note that said I’m sorry I threatened to kill you. Dinners on me, but that didn’t feel sincere. Pax could tell that’s exactly what Axel was thinking each time he glanced at Kally. Well, except without the dinner on me part, since that would be too much like a date and would be weird for all parties.
Once Axel gained full control of himself, he looked like he needed a two year vacation to Disneyworld. His eyes looked solemn and exhausted. His face was pale and sweaty. When he stood up, his legs wobbled.
Despite his danger status being at level newborn, Kally gave him a wide berth when she went to heal Leo Valdez. Pax figured it might be awhile before the two could partake in group hugs.
“What was your sister talking about?” Kally asked while kneeling beside the son of Hephaestus. She wouldn’t make eye contact with either of them, but took one of Leo’s hands into her lap. As she sang to heal his wrists, her voice quivered.
“I don’t know, but it sounded pretty end-of-the-worldy,” Pax said. He tried to think of something else to say to her that might explain away some of their actions or maybe something cheery like, “Good thing you have nightmares about Python every night so you don’t need to worry about Axel and I showing up.” That didn’t really feel appropriate.
Red Alert: The Silver Tongued Snake has run out of words.
Axel’s eyes drifted until they fixated on Pax. Had this not been Axel, a being that was—as far as Pax was concerned—a gift from the gods of Awesome and Wow, Pax would have said Axel looked scared and confused.
“We need to get all of you back to Camp Half-Blood,” he Axel. He staggered over to the work bench with the brightly colored beach towel. He grabbed it and walked to Backbiter. The blade still lay on the ground, glistening sinisterly in the moonlight and torchlight.
Both Kally and Pax flinched when Axel wrapped up the blade.
“You’re not seriously going to keep that sword are you? I mean, you go all ‘Here’s Johnny!’ when you touch the metal,” Pax said.
Axel frowned.
That was the worst Pax had ever seen Axel struggle with the Leonis Caput. Considering Axel had even been wearing a silver onesie and still looked terrifying, that meant this was pretty serious. That was the real monstrosity there: adult onesies.
“Help me get everyone back into the van,” Axel said.
 By “help me get everyone back into the van,” Axel had really meant, “Watch me pass out in the back and do all the work for me.” After Axel collapsed halfway into the van and Pax dragged him the rest of the way inside. Pax took Hunnie out of his pocket and gently placed her on Axel’s face. Within moments, Baller hopped into the back and rushed to investigate the beach towel at Axel’s side. Experimentally, Baller bit at the material.
Pax hoped that the sword wouldn’t call some inner demon out of Baller. He really didn’t want to fight a ten foot long weasel wielding a sword and demanding beef jerky.
The next half hour was a little awkward. While Kally fixed up Leo, Pax raided the shack for leftover stew and to-go boxes. Pax even paid for the stew and wished he could write up a little citation notice for Leo about violating California Code SB-1221 from Officer Doofus. Leo wouldn’t remember who that was, but that might make it even better. Unfortunately, he figured Kally wouldn’t be in the mood to transcribe for him.
Pax swiped a few of those vouchers his mom had mentioned off the counter and walked outside to meet Kally.
She’d finished fixing up Leo and managed to drag him onto the work table beside Calypso. While Pax was inside pillaging, she must have gathered her messenger bag. Pax frowned when she saw her hand defensively on her Argonaut statue.
“I stole each of us free vouchers for Reese’s Sundays,” Pax informed her, holding up the slips of paper. “Located at Moma’s Sweets only a ten minute drive without donkey power.”
“Free vouchers are meant to be taken,” Kally said.
“Oh, well, I legally acquired them,” he said with a devilish grin. That somehow sounded more sinister and Pax would have normally been proud of it.
She didn’t crack a smile. Those green eyes were soul crushing. She tried to stand up tall and look authoritative, though Pax could see she was still shaken. “When we get back to Camp Half-Blood, you’re telling Chiron everything.”
That sounded about as smart as skydiving with a trash bag. Pax opened his mouth to protest.
Kally continued, gulping, “If you don’t, I—I will.”
That was like skydiving with one of those complimentary, airplane throw-up bags, prefilled for grossness. “Uh, eternal torment. Orkus—” Pax reminded her. His heart thumped in his ears. The little stunt with the River Styx might be back firing.
“I don’t care. What happened to Axel back there wasn’t good for him and he’s not fit to… do whatever with your dad. Obviously you really want to stop your dad, but—but maybe we should leave it to the real heroes. Maybe, if we tell Chiron, Jason Grace or Percy Jackson can do it.”
The real heroes.
Ow, my tiny bit of pride. Getting hit in the pride and the righteousness all in one day? Pax was waiting for someone to finish him off, to tell him he wasn’t cuter than a baby panda, and send him to tears. Though by nature of how pathetic and adorable he would look while crying, he might be able to disprove their claim.
A part of him screamed that Jason and Percy weren’t any better than he or Axel. He, Axel, and Alabaster had been training to and probably could have taken them out, but that tidbit of information might not help defend his case.
The rest of him realized she was right. Relief flooded over him when he thought about someone else—some real heroes—arresting their dad. Axel had always said it was a family matter, but Pax didn’t care. If Piper, or Jason, or Annabeth were on the line against the Pax family, it would mean Axel was safe, hiding with him. They wouldn’t need the stupid Golden Net or Backbiter.
“We could hold a game show to find out which hero gets the quest and a complimentary shirt—” As he spoke, he could see the rims around her eyes getting red. Yea, he couldn’t handle it if she started crying, because he would definitely start to cry too and then Ares would show up and beat them both up for being wimps and take their lunch money, or at least rob Leo’s shop since that’s where all of Pax’s lunch money had gone.
“Sorry,” he cut himself off. No jokes. No jokes, he chanted in his head to keep focused. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He wanted to make everything right. This might have been the best way. “I’ll tell Chiron everything. I… I swear on the—”
“Stop.” She held up a hand and took a step closer to him, eyes wide. “I—I don’t want anyone to have a River Styx curse. And I want to know that you’re going to do it because you’re going to do it, not because you’re afraid of eternal pain or whatever.”
Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He realized he’d messed up a good thing with Kally, but he didn’t realize how good a thing it could have been until that response. She really was a fantastic person. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he and Axel didn’t deserve good people. “Can I quote you on a motivational poster?” he asked.
Something about the way he looked at her must have cued Kally in to the type of adoration he was feeling. She blushed, then scowled. “Shut up, I’m still mad at you.”
“Cyclopes got fangs,” he teased. Upon seeing the way she gripped her Argonaut statue, he held his hands up. “Sorry—I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad.” Don’t joke. Don’t make a joke. Keep it together man!
She sighed and motioned towards the van. “This is why I didn’t agree to date you.”
Pax glanced around at the general, torched vicinity. “Uh, because you knew I’d assist in an amazing party then bring about the reforging of a talking sword that belonged to the Grinch Who Stole Olympus? Er, tried to?” He walked alongside her, towards their friends. Pax almost reflexively grabbed her hands, but realized that would probably incite a good lesson in karma, taught with fists.
“Because I can’t trust you,” she said. Kally didn’t make eye contact, but Pax could tell it wasn’t just because she was upset. Her gaze was distant. “The forge ambushed in the lion’s maw. Not to flame or plea will force withdraw,” she quoted.
Pax winced. Couldn’t Rachel have told Kally, “That Axel dude is going to attack Leo. Attacking back or begging him to stop won’t do anything, so prepare a good pep talk.”
Kally frowned and continued. “I think Joey’s quest is one of the dominos Rachel was talking about. Things are about to get serious.”
 When they got out to the van, Euna was awake and raiding the to-go boxes. As she munched and they approached, she gave them an absent wave. She didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned that everyone was fast asleep around her.
If Pax wasn’t absolutely sure she would kick the snot out of him for it later, he’d prop a box up with a stick, put a cheeseburger under there, and see if Euna would get boxed. But, knowing Flower Girl’s power, she’d probably bring the box and stick to life and they would go Groot on him. Recycling at its most violent.
Several of the satyrs and nymphs were yawning and sitting up. Calex was up and stretching as well.
Pax wondered if everyone had happy dreams of rainbows, sunshine, and rodents. Morpheus Dust was supposed to grant happy dreams from what he remembered. From the way Calex looked relaxed and not sad over his mom and brother, he guessed Calex had a nice dream about cleaning Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang’s house for them, then fetching coffee for Percy and Annabeth afterwards.
“Hey Calex, Euna, can you help us get everyone in the van?” Kally asked. “We need to get to Chiron as fast as possible.”
Kally might as well have sprinted up to Calex, socked him in the stomach, and shouted, “I grew a backbone Scrum Lord! And your football team sucks!”
He gave her a perplexed glance, looked back and forth between Pax and Kally, then glared at Pax. “What happened?” he slowly asked. “This perv upset you?”
Kally frowned.
Pax figured now was a fantastic time to tell the truth. “My pop is ascending tomorrow morning. No time to get a signature from Leo. I already wrote him a note.” Just not the whole truth. That would come later. He really hoped no one remembered he was illiterate, since his note was a metaphorical one in the form of coins.
“Ascending?” Euna repeated. She set her to-go box down. Pax could envision her movie trailer now: When Euna sets food aside: Stuff. Gets. SERIOUS.
Kally nodded. She joined Calex in his glare at Pax. “When we get to Chiron, Pax will explain everything—” He gave her his best charming grin of I’m a sleazebag and I’ve accepted that as a friendly term. “—but the sooner we get there, the better. Do you think we have enough time to drive back and get Percy or Annabeth out here? Or, uh, should we Iris Message?” Kally seemed to realize she was being a proper domineering heroine and tapered off to return to sidekick status.
At hearing the plan, Pax wanted to hug Kally. If it was mandated by Camp Half-Blood, they could trap Axel at Camp Half-Blood to prevent him from interfering and force him to play games, like volleyball and sneak-past-Argus. No one had beaten that game yet, but he was going to prove to the Stoll brothers that it could be done.
“We’re not going?” Euna asked. She sounded incredibly relieved.
Calex looked surprised. “Won’t your bother be—where’s Axel?”
Again, Calex always sounded so suspicious of Pax. Although the reaction proved some intelligence on Calex’s part, Pax had to feign an indignant huff—an excellent mimic of Joey’s—to pretend Calex was still ridiculous.
“Unconscious,” Pax assured. Knowing that should be enough explanation, he cheerfully stepped towards the van.
He could still hear the others as Kally and Calex walked over to Merry’s sleeping bag. “Just let me know if this dodgy prick bothers you and he’ll be in love with a Reese’s Stick right quick.” The Son of Eros tapped the pencil pouch sticking out of his jean’s pocket.
“I’d never be able to eat it!” Pax cried, terrified of the thought.
From the grin Calex gave him, that was the full intention.
“You monster,” Pax grumbled.
Kally blushed and broke eye contact with Calex. “Thank you Calex, but I’ve been able to take care of myself.”
Judging from the dull pain in his stomach from where Kally’s elbow had a romantic rendezvous with his gut, he had to agree. From both times Pax had upset her to violence… had it really been two times? Should Pax have an intervention with Kally about her friendship choices? He never would, as he’d have to recommend Kally to stay away from him, but the sentiment was there.
He expected her to be glaring at him warily, but she was staring at the van. He winced. Ajax Pax wasn’t the Pax she was afraid of.
“That offer never expires,” Calex assured her. He knelt down beside Merry, who was curled up on her side. “Will she go mental if I wake her?” He glanced to where Euna had woken up Joey. Joey didn’t seem nearly as pow! and bam! as her sister. Pax imagined that Joey only got like that when she realized they didn’t have any showers or mirrors.
Kally shook her head and covered up a laugh with her hand. It was good to see her smile, especially at the potential misery of Calex. “No, she just complains a lot in the morning.”
“Mmm, sweetie Kal, you don’t know this pain,” Merry whined from her sleeping bag. She stretched, rolled over, and stretched on the other side, reminding Pax of a slow motion weasel. “Give me five minutes of stretching and seven Tylenol. Then I’ll be ready to face the pain in my back. And that massage that Calex owes me for dragging him away from that model mania.” She peered up at him slyly from her lazy sprawl.
“How about I carry you to the van?” Calex offered instead.
“Oh honey, you won’t—” Merry yelped when Calex picked her up, bridal style. As though she feared he’d get a bad case of bodacious butterfingers, Merry clung to him. When he didn’t drop her, but continued towards the van with little more than a quick neck crack, she said, “You can carry me? But I weigh like, three Paxes!”
“Hey!” Pax resented that. “I am a tiny ball of muscle!”
Merry ignored him. Her voice carried over Calex’s shoulder as they went to join the Song sisters in the van. “Calex, we should be asexual life partners. You’re a useful sweet teddy.”
From inside, Pax could hear Joey say, “Asexual? Wouldn’t your dad have to disown you for that?”
As their Scooby Team assembled, Pax bowed slightly to Kally. “Cyclopes,” he said.
She looked at the ground and walked to the passenger door.
Pax puffed up his cheeks, popped them, and walked to the driver’s side. For Christmas, he’d have to buy Kally a coupon book full of Free Punch Pax Day and Fill in the Blank for What Stupid Thing You Want Pax to Say to ___ Hero that Can Kick His Sorry Butt.
  Pax decided—if they got pulled over for speeding, he was going to hand Calex over as a sacrifice to the American judicial system.
Axel was still passed out in the back with the Phobetor sleeping bag carefully tucked over his head. His Mist mask always fell away when he slept, so he and Pax had a careful system of assuring he was properly cocooned.[1] Calex freaked out as soon as he went near Axel. Pax wanted to assure that yes—Axel would emerge a beautiful butterfly, but he suspected that wasn’t Calex’s problem.
“What’s in the towel?” Calex demanded. “That’s it, isn’t it? One of the things screaming malice back here?”
The towel containing Backbiter was tucked tightly beside the fluffy sleeping bundle of Axel, completely unseen to the average eye.
“Calex, you suck,” Pax grumbled as he sat in the driver’s seat. He was frustrated to find the seatbelt still broken from the dart-jamming incident earlier. “First you understand Axel and I when we’re trying to have a familial conversation, then you can tell Kally and I had a spat, and now you get feelings off our evil sword. You don’t have X-ray vision too, do you? Because I’ll be quite disappointed if you ruin the surprise of which boxers I wear on special occasions.”
They had a brief argument over what to do with the sword, not once mentioning the importance of his boxers. At first, Pax was disgusted to agree with Calex about leaving it behind, but Kally pointed out that Chiron would know how to get rid of the blade properly. Joey and Euna were confused, though Euna busied herself assuring everyone was settled on the couches so they could drive. Merry remained quiet, listening, and didn’t interject until they decided to bring the sword to Camp Half-Blood.
“So, Pax,” she said as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I assume you’re going to explain why all of us adults needed a nap time at one of my parties when we talk to Chiron? No one ever yawns at one of my parties.” Her brown eyes flashed.
Maybe they should plan to have a dunking booth. Everyone would get a turn for each thing he’d screwed up so… he’d probably be better off with having Percy drown him. “Yep!” Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. “Come one! Come all! The Pax secrets divulged! Except my night cream routine. Joey might steal that.”
He glanced in the mirror at her. Joey rolled her eyes at him, butshe  was too deep into a to-go box for a real response.
Pax entered the coordinates off his ice cream voucher into the GPS, but didn’t engage Luke’s system. He didn’t want the donkey to tug him. Pax wanted to tear down the highway on his own to get his mind off the conversation he’d have when Axel woke up. “Axel, this is an intervention. We took your sword away and gave you an ice pop.”
Only slightly better than the convo with Chiron. Pax wanted to make sure Kally didn’t have any secrets that needed keeping. But… would Chiron accept the argument that they weren’t going to do any more evil seeming things and that it must be the start of their redemption arc?
Pax corralled the conversation towards Joey’s cheerful Winter Break plans: Greek Hell. That’s not what it actually was, but Pax liked to make it sound as horrible as possible to get everyone’s mind on a safer topic.
Ideas were pumping through the back about Joey’s quest from Hera, like how to get to Hades and how to get help from Persephone. Pax tried to contribute. He suggested they tell the Ares Cabin that the Athena Cabin said they could dig a bigger hole using their brains than their brawn, and vice versa for the other cabin, and then sit back and wait.
Kally stayed quiet. She would stare out the window at the shadows of trees and the distant, polluted glow of the town of Berkeley Hills. Then she’d jump and glance back to where Axel and the sword laid dormant. Axel never moved; he only ever slept like this when he had two nighters or when Pax darted him. Pax wanted to tease, “naww, look at him and his widdle sword.” He wanted to say a lot of things, to ramble until Kally forgot what happened and felt better, but he was getting this strange inkling that maayyyybe that wasn’t the best way to solve this.
They were leaving the park’s forest when the sign for Moma’s Sweets caught his headlights. Pax couldn’t actually read the writing, but he recognized the double scoop logo from the vouchers. Pax pulled off the side of the road into the far side of the parking lot, away from the other occupants and closer to the trees—in case Leo Valdez magically got his memory back, woke up, and was searching their van out on the road.
There was a small, single room shop just off what Kally had called out as Grizzly Peak Boulevard, which—Pax was surprised—still had its lights on. The shop was painted red, with yellow shutters, very hipster friendly. Pax knew they were near a college town and wondered if he was about to run into exactly the kind of child-adults that Michael Kahale was worried would test out fireworks during flame season.
“We’re stopping for ice cream?” Joey asked skeptically from the back. “Isn’t your dad like, ascending tomorrow? What happened to hurrying to Chiron?”
“Ice cream is clearly more important,” Pax said. He put the emergency brake down when he parked, as if Luke couldn’t tear right through that. The driver’s seat belt was in ribbons from Axel cutting at it—totally worth pranking Leo—but they’d need to get that fixed. Although Pax tended to enjoy a good bout with danger, one with the windshield was something he’d rather save for a few hundred years.
“Besides,” he continued as he hopped out of the van. “I’ve always wanted to know if I could balance or juggle seven sundaes on my own. I’ll be back.”
Before anyone could offer to come with, he jammed his hands into his pockets and stalked towards the shop. In reality, he didn’t know what kind of exchange the vouchers demanded, and he was sure he was going to end up exhausting his mortal money supply on guilt desserts for the group. And maybe he could ask the cashier how you apologized to your friends for drugging all of them and lying for months. Pleasant evening chatter.
There were only two other cars on the other side of the parking lot: a white ice cream truck and a pickup truck that looked like an extra from Mad Max. Pax found it strange that not many people would want ice cream at midnight in November, but he figured others didn’t have as good of taste.
Pax was fumbling with the vouchers while he shoved the door opened and took a step inside. He almost ran into a guest. He was about to bow grandly and apologize to the sir or lady or other when he heard the familiar click of someone cocking the hammer on a revolver.
“Hello Ajax,” a male voice cooed.
If Pax had ingested a pound of cockroaches and they all made a dash up his esophagus at the same time, he imagined this was about how it would feel. He was going to need a lot more than some sundaes to make up for this mistake. Though he couldn’t figure out what before something metal cracked across his jaw, knocking him backwards.
 Thanks for reading! :D
[1] So, I definitely cocoon when I sleep. (Mel will verify this and has conducted several studies on the process.) Is this normal? Do you guys do this? (Also, Mel—upon reading this footnote—denied that she conducted studies. She said she happened to watch my sleeping process because we roomed together for a bit XD)
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sentient-stove · 3 years
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Not me going to a thrift store to buy a copy of Percy Jackson just so I can write my essay about my personal beef with Chiron.
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zeldasnotes · 1 year
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solar return & transit notes ✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.: ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
masterlist II - masterlist III
these notes are just my own observations and might not play out the same for everyone.🌛
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saturn transiting the 10th house: I remember being very obsessive over my public image and social media during this transit.
transit jupiter conjunct natal juno(3): You could meet the love of your life during this transit, I did.
solar return scorpio rising: The year you have Scorpio Rising in the Solar Return chart you will change your behaviour because you will be forced to. If you are the kind of person who are usually too nice you will bump into people who force you to bring out your inner bitch. If you are someone whos usually a bitch you will bump into people who will put you in your place and outbitch you so that you learn to behave. You will meet a lot of interesting people this year and you will be forced to transform.
solar return lilith in the 2nd house: This can indicate a lot of financial issues. Same with Pluto 2nd house. But it can also be the year you finally fix your economy. shopping addiction/body image issues indicator.
transit lilith conjunct ascendant: Wow! The attention I got from men the year I had this transit. Such an egoboost. But I’ve noticed a lot of friends experience issues with their father or men in general during this period.
solar return destinn(6583) conjunct sun: This will be an extremely important year for you. The things that happen and the people you will meet during this year will be life changing and you will think about this year a lot. You will meet a lot of people who will be important for your growth.
saturn transiting the ascendant: When Saturn started transiting my Ascendant was the year I stopped living in my own fantasyworld and started seeing things realistically. I also remember losing a lot of weight.
solar return pluto conjunct ascendant: When you have Pluto conjunct Ascendant in the Solar Return chart you might feel a strong need to change your appearance. It can even become obsessive. You want to look powerful too so you might start wearing more status symbols like watches, expensive clothes etc. You will also be super combative for no reason.
solar return moon conjunct paine(5188): Emotional pain.
solar return mercury conjunct dejanira(157): I actually rembered being verbally abused a lot, I was called all sorts of nasty words and was involved in a lot of verbal conflicts. I was abusive myself too.
solar return lilith in the 6th house: When I had this I experienced issues with food addiction and I was very lazy. Very bad habits.
solar return mars 10th house: Mars in the 10th house in the Solar Return chart can indicate a lot of competition and beef at the work place.
solar return moon conjunct saturn: I had this aspect the year I remember shutting down emotionally. A lot of bad stuff happened.
transit pluto conjunct ascendant: Be prepared for transformation and change. This can be a horrible aspect or a good aspect. But you will remember it. I feel bad for everyone who go through this transit as a child or teenager.
chiron transiting your 1st house: This can make you very insecure during this period and others notice this and treat you bad. You might feel weak and vulnerable.
solar return karma(3811) conjunct personal planets: This can show a year where you are a victim of a lot of stuff you do to others, like if you used to talk behind peoples backs this year you will be a victim of gossip.
solar return venus and jupiter in the 1st house: Definitely one of the best years in my whole life. Everything just worked out smoothly, if I wanted anything I got it. My selfies were bomb that year.
sun & saturn transiting the 8th house: I know sometimes who lost her father when she had this transit. Chiron was also transiting her 10th house.
medusa(149) conjunct ascendant: This in the solar return chart can be a year where you experience a lot of hate and envy from others. Especially from other women if you are a wonan.
solar return rip(7711) conjunct personal planets: This one always shows up prominent in the solar return chart the year someone dies. Marilyn Monroe had it conjunct Moon in the 1st house in her solar return chart the year she died.
©️ 2023 Zeldas Notes
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