dandelion-blues

[dandelion-blues]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: X-Men - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Pietro Maximoff Characters: Erik Lehnsherr, Pietro Maximoff, Logan | Wolverine (X-Men), Magnus Lehnsherr (Exiles Comics) Additional Tags: dadneto, Parental Erik Lehnsherr, Pietro Maximoff Needs a Hug, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Pietro Maximoff-centric, POV Pietro Maximoff, BAMF Pietro Maximoff, Good Parent Erik Lehnsherr, Father-Son Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Asexual Pietro Maximoff, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Immortality, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Comfort/Angst, Genosha (X-Men) Series: Part 3 of Jay's Dadneto 2025 Summary:

Pietro is forty, yet he doesn't look a day above twenty.

When Pietro really thinks about it, with his mutation literally dragging him outside of the present flow of time and his body moving (regenerating) faster than anyone else alive. If he wasn’t stuck unaging — his cells literally immortalized — then he would have died long ago. His body unable to keep up at the speed in which he lived, and he would have rapidly aged and died as soon as his X-gene activated.

Still, like always, Pietro decides to run. His Walkman already playing to his own version of time.

"Who wants to live forever? Ooh."

Pietro sighs, fate really has a habit of playing with him, doesn’t it? He stopped his Walkman from playing, slipping the headphones around his belt loop.

There he stood on the sandy beaches of Genosha.

Even without thinking he found himself where he wanted to be. Where Magento reigns - where his dad will be.

[dandelion-blues]

Someone, Somewhere, Right Now

{ @house-of-dadneto }

Now on ao3

Summary:

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m full.” Peter exclaimed, a full grin upon his face, as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes in bliss. He would have broken someone out of the pentagon sooner if it meant eating like that again!

Of course, the teen, thus missed the concerned looks that all the adults gave each other at such a remark.

Somehow, this leads to Pietro spilling his guts, because no one will ever blame his wonderful mother. Magna Maximoff is a saint, and it's not her fault Pietro probably eats enough to feed a whole football team.

Unfortunately, Erik did not get the memo that he had a son, but he'll do his best to be there for him now. And giving his son a hug and a talk about how wonderful he is isn't a bad way to start.

Embrace

Peter wasn’t asking for a lot of thanks for literally saving everyone’s asses. I mean moving bullets and knocking out all those guards—anyone!

At least Claws, Logan, whatever, gave Peter a thank you. But really, what Peter really wants for his epicness is some food.

C’mon he’s fifteen and his superspeed burns up a lot of calories. A man’s gotta eat after all!

So, when he’s jammed in-between Claws and Magnets (Erik yeesh, hope this terrorist isn’t the guy mom was talking about) he practically begs high-as-kites Hippy Dude (Charles, and that sounds like a snobby British name if Peter’s ever heard one. Not that he can complain since his birth name is Pietro. Ugh, talk about a name that everyone makes fun of! Kids are not nice!) and Glasses (Hank, honestly he’s just a normal nerd) to pull over for some fast food because, once again he is starving!!!

Anyways, Peter eventually convinced (more like worn down) everyone to get him some food. And man, God bless McDonalds (whoever came up with those burgers, chicken nuggets, and fries knew what they were doing!).

Peter simply engorged himself on 6 burgers, 8 fires, and 40 chicken nuggets. Oh, and like 3 liters worth of sprite before he licked his lips and sat back with a sigh.

Ignoring the looks of disgust, awe, and disbelief that were thrown his way all throughout his feast.

Wow, for once he couldn’t eat a single more morsal. That’s never happened before!

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m full.” Peter exclaimed, a full grin upon his face, as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes in bliss. He would have broken someone out of the pentagon sooner if it meant eating like that again!

Of course, the teen, thus missed the concerned looks that all the adults gave each other at such a remark.

Hank decided to speak up, adjusting his glasses as he gave a quick glance to the backseat from the driver’s side, “Peter… you’ve never been full before?”

Peter blinked his eyes open, his stomach full and his thoughts calm for once as he practically sat in a food coma.

“I mean I’m sure I have when I was little,” Peter worded out slowly and unsure, “But I can hardly remember a time before I was fast.”

Charles spoke up, “You mean before your mutation activated. What age was that?”

Pietro signed, relaxing into his seat, “I don’t know like six, seven? A decade ago man.”

‘That’s so young,’ Charles thought alarmed.

Erik looked over to the young man concerned, “How old are you now?”

Charles sent Erik a sharp look, likely to retort about not recruiting teens for his Brotherhood.

“Almost sixteen!” Peter said happily, “As of March 12th I’ll be able to get my license. I’m super stoked!”

Erik returned a scathing glare to Charles and practically spit out, “You sent a fifteen year old to break a terrorist out of the pentagon!”

“Hey man!” Peter called out but was ignored as the two once-friends-and-lovers-turned-enemies argued.

“It wasn’t my idea!” Charles defended scandalized, “Ask Logan here!”

Logan simply pretended to sleep, snoring rather obnoxiously. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions.

“Don’t deflect your blame Charles!” Erik yelled, for some reason rather protective of the teen.

Logan seemed to snort a bit before going back to his loud snoring. While Hank just shook his head and stared straight ahead, determined to drive without getting distracted.

Peter simply watched as the two adults went back and forth like an amusing tennis match. 

(If the match was full of sexual tension and would likely end in some heated making out that is).

Charles rolled his eyes, “Really Erik? You want to talk about taking responsibility. You, who could never accept a peaceful life and one where not everyone is out to get you. Where dozens of innocent men died trying to protect Raven and the other’s when the old Brotherhood attacked! Where humans like Moira were working with and even liked us?!.”

“Moria shot you!” Erik yelled full of venom, his hatred for that woman clear even now. For hurting the man he loved.

“No! She shot you. You are the one that deflected the bullet that ultimately paralyzed me!” Charles roared back, his hurt still displayed as the man in the end held him oh so gently like he was a precious treasure, but then left him leaving him like some scorned widow.

Erik’s face flickered with shame and regret, and he breathed deeply in, “Charles, I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you wanted me to be. That I left you that day. That I couldn’t just try and compromise.

Charles looked like he wanted to do anything but forgive Erik, but then he looked into his once friend’s eyes seeing the deep sincerity and regret in those blues.

The ex-telepath sighed, “My apologies Erik, I know it was an accident. I shouldn’t have said that.” Charles never truly blamed Erik for that, but his lover leaving and finding himself unable to walk again was a kind of hell that he never wanted to fall into again.

Erik shook his head, “No you were right to.” He hurt the man he loved after all.

Then, before the two could say more, because Peter couldn’t hold in his question anymore, “Wait you're paralyzed?! How?! Sorry, but just you’re walking, right? Unless I’m crazy. Did I somehow manage to imagine this whole thing? That’s a new level of crazy if that’s the case. I mean-"

“Peter!” Charles interrupted the teen’s rambling, “Yes, I’m paralyzed. Hank managed to come up with a treatment for my spinal injury though, so I could walk.”

Peter nodded his head, “Oh, that makes sense!”

Hank sighed in relief as the tension seemed to finally completely dissipate, and now his scientific mind could finally address his concerns with the teen’s appetite now, “So Peter, do you usually eat that much?” Wow, Hank, that was an awkward way to bring back the topic.

Peter looked at Glasses a bit weirdly before shrugging, “I mean I guess not. I mean I eat a lot, but I’ve never bothered to keep track. I probably have like a million meals a day, and well,” Peter fidgeted a bit in his seat, a bit embarrassed, “I steal most of my food since Mom, ya know, can’t exactly afford to pay for all the food I need to consume.”

Peter rushed out, though, before anyone could say anything, “But don’t blame her. My mom’s the best mom that could mom. She really does her best. I mean I’m a complete loser who can barely pass my classes, and ya know she’s an immigrant from Transia, and not a lot of white-pricket fenced Americans are exactly nice to immigrants let alone a Romani and a single mom at that!”

Peter sighed reminiscing, “I barely remember Transia, but I remember coming to America. God, by then my silver hair was fully in! I used to have auburn hair man! Like Magnets here,” Peter gestured to Erik.

“And, everything was just so slow all the time. I mean it still is, but I just didn’t understand it then — my powers, or mutation, then. I couldn’t sit still or talk slowly, or normal I guess, and I was hungry all the time!” Peter let out with frustration.

“Mom practically worked herself to the bone to provide for me. I mean I can’t imagine the food bill alone, and I was tiny back then. I didn’t eat nearly as much!” Peter sighed frustrated with himself.

“And that’s not coming up with all the other stupid shit I did. I mean I was just a stupid kid with weird hair and an accent coming to America, and kids of course made fun of me. And the teacher demanded I speak proper English.”

Peter scoffed, “Like I wasn’t fluent in speaking English, German, and Polish, and still, ya know, learning to read and write properly. But just because I had a bit of an accent and didn’t accept any of the other kids bullying — I was the delinquent kid!”

Peter signed. “And don’t even get me started on the butchering of my birth name. It’s really not that hard to say Pietro Maximoff, is it?!”

Erik choked at the name (it couldn’t be right? Not the same Magna Maximoff. Surely, not his ex-wife.).

Peter simply continued, not noticing Magnet's weird reaction, “But wherever, I’m cool with Peter now, even prefer it most of the time after all these years.”

“So yeah, my mom’s amazing! So don’t blame her for thinking she’s starving me!” Peter glared at all the adults around him — fiercely protective of his mom.

Erik decided to speak up first, “She sounds lovely, child. Was she…” Erik swallows, “Is your mom’s name Magma Maximoff per chance?”

The only sound could be heard was the car’s hum, and even Logan’s faux snores completely stopped as everyone held their breaths.

Peter looked wide-eyed at the man — his neurons firing at rapid rates, pulling things together much faster than anyone else. For all everyone claims he is stupid — it’s just everything is so slow for him, but if he’s allowed to think and work as fast as he can there’s nothing that would stop him from figuring things out.

And there’s certainly nothing stopping him from connecting his mom’s words of knowing a man that could control metal.

Of comforting a young Pietro with silver hair on his freakish nature by explaining that he’s simply gifted like a man she knew long ago. Of how his mom’s eyes crinkled with bittersweet joy as she told Pietro of the man’s gifts and how he inherited special traits like that man.

God, Pietro really is stupid isn’t he.

“My mom knew a man who could control metal,” Pietro chokes out, his words losing a more of his American accent the further he spoke, “My mom is Magna Maximoff, survivor of the holocaust. A Romani woman who fell in love with a Jewish man when they escaped. When they fled to Transia and had my oldest sister Anya. When everything all fell apart in a fire, killing my sister. And then my mom fled unknowingly pregnant because the man, my father, was out for vengeance.”

Erik had tears streaming down his face like comets — wishes that never came true, of candles blown out that he never witnessed.

“Oh, my son.” Erik practically sobbed, “I’m so sorry. If I knew, I would have never left your mother and you.”

Pietro’s lip wobbled, but he steeled himself desperately trying to claw the feeling of shame of crying in front of others. His ex-stepfather’s words echoing in his head that men don’t cry, “Words mean nothing, old man.”

Erik’s eyes, though full of tears, were full of ironed steel — an unrusted edge even as time stood against him, true and honest and strong, “You are my son, and nothing would have kept me from you had I known. Nothing would have kept me from loving you.”

Pietro felt tears leaking in his eyes and wetly said, “You can’t say that!” He yelled full of self deprecation. “I’m a screw up, good-for-nothing asshole. I am a moron who can’t sit still and-”

“You are mein Sohn.” Erik said full of conviction, and Pietro couldn’t stand that look full of pride and love, but Erik gently tilted the teen’s face to face him, “And there is nothing that would keep me from loving you.”

Tears escaped Pietro’s eyes and he tried to stop them, but they just kept coming.

“And you are a brilliant young man with an amazing gift,” Erik smiled a genuine and true smile held for his most precious gift,  “After all, I don’t think just anyone would be able to get me out of the Pentagon in mere seconds and save everyone on top of that. So thank you, mein kostbarster Sohn.”

My most precious son.

Pietro, no longer able to hold himself back, crashed in his dad’s open arms. And despite himself, found himself crying on his dad’s shirt, just glad that he was hidden from view, for as long as he was in his dad’s arms nothing would harm or judge him there.

This is what it felt like to be hugged by a father. To be loved by a father.

Pietro sobbed and hugged his dad back tighter, and his dad gripped back just as tight. Father and son together again, and for once everything in the world was just right.

Notes:

So happy with this! I honestly love this so much! I can't wait to write more Dadneto stuff!

First - Next Dadneto One-shot

[dandelion-blues]

It's Been So Long

{ @house-of-dadneto }

Now on ao3

Summary:

The reveal finally happens! Erik Lehnsherr knows Pietro Maximoff is his son.

Peter just didn't expect it would be because Apocalypse injured him and his mom was called, leaving her and Erik to talk.

Of course, Peter too-drugged up on painkillers to even hear the juicy details. Not cool Hank!

Confession

Peter should have expected this, he really should have — just because he was an “adult” doesn’t mean that his mom wouldn’t be worried.

It certainly doesn’t matter that she was hours away, and surely busy with work. Because when she got a call about his broken leg and arm in a (definitely badass) fight she would never just go ‘huh, alright.’

No, Marya Maximoff, for all she’s Pietro Django Maximoff aunt by blood, she was his mom for all but 2 years of his life — so one can bet their ass that she would race over to Xavier’s Institute (breaking several speed limits undoubtedly) and march up to the front door with the fury of a mama bear facing any threats for her cubs.

Really, Peter should have seen this coming.

Unfortunately for him, his dad, ex(current?) terrorist Magneto, was still helping rebuild the school and thus in full view and revealed to the full fury of Marya Maximoff storming up to the front door. A woman he recognized on sight, despite the growing greys and new wrinkles on her bronze skin.

“Marya?” Erik asks in stunned surprise, his blue eyes like a cloudy sky — murky with past memories, “Is that you?”

Marya twisted back, withholding a snarl at the man who interrupted her path to her son, and fell back in shock when she looked at the man.

Her ex brother-in-law — the father she kept away from her son all these twenty-six years.

“Max Eisenhardt or is it Erik Lehnsherr or perhaps Henryk Gurzsky, or is it some new name now?” Marya spat, “Why in God’s name are you at this school? Didn’t you just try to destroy the world days ago?!”

Erik’s Adam apple bobbed as he wetted his lips to explain, “I-,” The words died in his throat as he eyed Marya’s stern glare and he bowed his head, “I’m helping rebuild the school.”

“Oh?” Marya raised a brow, “And why did the school need rebuilding in the first place?” The accusation was clear in her voice.

Unluckily, or perhaps luckily, Erik was interrupted by the newly-placed mahogany (Charles Xavier was rich after all) front door opening, and the bald man himself came wheeling out, “Marya Maximoff, if you would please follow me, your son is conscious now and probably would be best if you come and explain why he should stay off his legs for a bit longer. Since he found out you were coming, he’s been buzzing with energy and quite frankly isn’t what you would call a rule-follower.” Charles chuckled fondly at that remission on the teen that broke into the pentagon all for the thrill of his kleptomaniac heart.

Marya’s eyes softened with relief upon hearing her son was up, and her lips quirked up with fond exasperation, “That boy,” She doesn’t give Magento a second glance and looks imploringly at Charles Xavier, “Please. I would appreciate seeing Peter now.”

‘Peter?’ Erik thought silently to himself, and oh the memories of the silver-haired boy flew by him. Of the boy — who was the first person to smile nicely at him in ten years and free him from the pentagon. Of the boy that never looked at Erik like he was a monster, even when he was set to destroy the world.

“I’m your… I’m here for family too.”

“I’m holding your neck so you don’t get whiplash,”“Whip…laaaaaaaaaash.”

“They told me you control metal.”

“You know, my mom once knew a guy who could do that.”

“Oh,” Erik gasped softly, ‘Even after everything the boy still thought of us as family… my nephew.”

Tears line his eyes at the thought. The peace and joy he felt with Magna — of being welcomed into the Maximoff family. Of having his first daughter Anya… until it all went in flames — literally.

Erik doesn’t blame Magna for leaving. Even if he still holds the belief that all those humans deserved to die for killing his baby — just as the ones who killed his dear Nina and his second-wife (coincidentally named) Magna. He should have controlled his anger and showed that he would have never hurt his wife despite his feelings on other humans.

Alas, that’s all in the past now, and he can do nothing but regret and drown in the pain of his past — hoping to repent for all his sins.

𖥔ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ𖥔

Peter found himself bounding with overwhelming energy. He needed to move… everything was just so slow! But he was trapped in the damned infermany on ‘doctor’s’ orders! Hank’s not even that kind of doctor!

But whatever, Peter just has to wait minutes (hours to him) and his mom will be here. She’s already called ahead that she was at the front gate.

Peter found his good leg bouncing and vibrating on the tile before him.

“Peter!” Hank sternly called, “No powers! We don’t want your metabolism to increase more than it already has and wear off the painkillers in your system.”

Peter sheepishly stopped vibrating in place, but he still couldn’t help but fidget. 

He needed to move, like a fish needs water. It was torturous to keep him in one place for so long! Torture!

“It’s not torture Peter,” Hank rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I said that outloud didn’t I?” Peter said, keeping his words slow (it’s practically second nature now) so Hank could understand.

“Yes, Peter,” Hanks said amused, “And oh, look your mom and professor are already here. She can now scold you about not using your powers.”

Peter slumped down dramatically in the medical bed, but smiled as his mom came into view, “That’s not fair man, sicking my mom on me like that!”

Marya rolled her eyes, “Peter, you can handle staying still for a week. You’re just lucky your bones heal so fast.”

“Fiiiiiiiine!”

𖥔ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ⚡︎ᯓ𖥔

Marya smiles, seeing that her son is alright and will fully recover. However, Hank soon puts him on more painkillers as Peter grimaces in pain.

Unfortunately that also has the effect of making Peter incredibly sleepy and he soon passes out, which leaves Marya to have the much needed adult conversation now that she knows her son is alright.

…

Oh, if Peter wasn’t already so injured, she would grab him by the ear and give him an earful of his impulsive decisions and endangering his life, but for now all Marya can do is thank God that he is alright and that her baby returned to her.

And Max! Ugh, if he wasn’t Peter’s father Marya would kill that man!

Marya soon found himself making a coffee upstairs, doing her best to stay away after hours of driving. As much as she would love to fall asleep, she knows that her Lorna will be calling her soon — and despite knowing Peter is fine, she still is on edge. A mother’s plight, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if it came attached to the incredible but dangerous heritage that is Magneto.

And speak of the devil! Max decides to appear right in the kitchen.

Marya sighs and just asks, “Why did you do it?” There’s no need to explain what the ‘it’ is — ending the world is a pretty big neon sign after all.

She needs to know what in God’s name made him want to end the world. She has an idea, a horrible one. But she recognizes the kind of rage that Max went through — the kind of a parent’s loss, the soul aching pain that makes the world seem worthless.

Marya grips her coffee closer, biting her lip to stop tears from forming as she thinks of Wanda, her oldest (‘Only by 12 minutes!’ Peter would remind her). Even after 14 years… it still feels so fresh.

Erik looks up at the ceiling full of anguish, “Humans killed my daughter and wife.”

Marya stares blankly at her cooling drink, her lips feeling quite dry and she chucks the drink like a shot and stares right into Erik’s steely eyes, “Tell me about them.” She asks softly, her tone rekindling of the family she once was to the broken man.

Erik smiles sadly, “After your son broke me out of the pentagon, and I failed in killing the president-”

“Really, what’s up with you and US presidents?” Marya jokes, despite the seriousness of such a task, but she held no love for Nixon — his derogatory views for Jews enough for that opinion to form. Sure, she was Romani, but it sure didn’t make a difference to Nazi’s when they rounded up all the ‘bad bloods’. And she would fight tooth and nail before letting another drag her people — through suffering and loss and pain — through the mud.

She’s had a lifetime enough of being seen as the ‘inferior people’, and she absently rubs her forearm — the faded inked numbers still scarred into her skin.

Erik gives her a half smile, “Yes, well I did try to save JFK. He was a mutant after all. But Nixon…,” Erik scowled, and oh Marya knew that look, “He was trying to eradicate all of us just because we were born with a gift! Trying to kill us like cattle to slaughter and we are the Homo superiors — the next step in evolution!”

“Chill it with the speech Magneto.” Marya said dryly, “And sit your ass down, or is talking to your ex-human-sister-in-law too demeaning for you?”

Erik paused, his skin heated with embarrassment, and gracefully sat down, “My apologies Marya. I’m just rather… passionate about mutant rights as all mutants should be.”

“Yeah, well after seeing you talk all about your superiority on live-television in front of my mutant son who happens to love his very human little sister and mom, Peter wasn’t exactly in agreement with you.” Marya responded with a bit of a bite.

Erik sighs, “I never have the right words. Magna surely would have.” Then, he grimaces, “My latest wife that is, not that my first wife wouldn’t have. She would have just been-”

“A spit-fire.” Marya laughs, “Yeah Wanda inherited that from her.”

Erik perks up, “Wanda?”

Marya’s face pales and she bites her lip, “Peter’s twin.” She looked down, shallowing hard.

“I’m sorry,” Erik says, knowing all too-well that like his Nina her Wanda died, “Nina was only eight.”

“Wanda was twelve.”

Marya sighs and looks over to Erik. She sees so much of the man, her brother-in-law, that she once knew. There’s still that anger coiled in his veins, but there’s also that deep-rooted anguish and love for his family.

“Max, I have something to tell you.” Marya said, straightening her back. She knows that Peter desperately wanted his father to know of their relationship — how he spoke up it with such longing, but was afraid of her reaction when she demanded he stay away.

This is her duty to her son, and it’s Erik’s choice how he'll react after. She just hopes she’s right about this, as much as part of her is screaming not not saying anymore.

“Peter and Wanda were Magna’s Erik.” Marya spoke, her words like an admission of guilt.

Erik stood stoically freezing in place, his face impassive — not letting an ounce of… anything through.

Marya looked at the man sadly, “She didn’t know she was pregnant at the time, but then… the fire happened and you left and she was scared.”

“Then, nine months Wanda Marya Maximoff was born first followed by Pietro Django Maximoff. And God,” Marya let out a wet chuckle, “Wanda looked so much like Anya, and Peter was a mini-you minus his brown eyes and nose.”

Erik let out a stuttering breath — he felt like he'd just been punched as he listened to Marya. Even if he wished to rage against her words, deny it all. He knows it’s true.

And just like that he feels grief overwhelm him. Another child died, and he never even knew her. His daughter. A son was almost killed because of him.

Anya, Nina, Wanda, Pietro.

Their names like a damnation upon him.

Anya.

His oldest daughter disappeared before his eyes like ash. Dark charcoal leaving nothing of her beautiful smile behind. Only screams that haunted his nightmares.

He feels Marya’s arms wrap around him as he lets out choking, raspy, sobs.

Nina.

His youngest’s eyes turned vividly blue in fear as he tried to appeal to the human authority. But she couldn’t control her powers and her blue eyes dimmed as her blood soaked the ground. Just gone.

He feels her tears wet his shirt, and just-like-always he pulls away.

Wanda.

Wanda, another child. A daughter he only knew by name, but he can imagine her playing with her sisters. Wracking up some mischievous scheme with her twin.

Pietro.

His son. His alive son.

He hardly knows what he’s doing as he storms around Charles’ mansion, until he finds himself outside the medical bay.

Not even noticing as Marya followed close behind.

Erik looks at the unconscious boy — no man, no matter how young he still is, he’s an adult now (twenty-six years of never knowing, of being in his own son’s life) — and he allows himself to see himself in his own son. They have the same cheekbones and chin, and his eyes curve just like his while his eyes and nose are all Magna’s. Along with his shock of silver-hair all his own that frames his young face.

This is his son.

Erik didn't notice when tears started falling down his eyes again or when Marya gripped his hand tightly, but he couldn’t stop.

He’s failed another child. He almost let his own son die.

Erik can hear his son’s screams as his bones were shattered… and Erik looked away, content to do nothing!

The metal begins to warp and rattle in his vicinity.

His son’s brow furrows in his sleep at the noise, and Erik takes a deep breath in and controls himself.

Perhaps, it was for the best that Erik never knew of their relationship — that the boy was kept hidden from it, or he would surely have been destroyed by being in Erik’s presence. 

It was only when they were apart, after all, that let the boy live to adulthood — and only when Erik was around the boy that he was put in danger.

Really, how reckless was it to allow a sixteen year old to break a terrorist out of the pentagon? To break him out of the pentagon?

And then, because the boy was simply seeking Erik out, he almost died because Erik was wrapped in a foolish plot with a delusional ‘mutant god’.

It would be better for everyone involved if Erik simply stayed away.

“Dad?” A drowsy voice spoke, and Erik's eyes snapped into focus to clearly see his son.

His son’s brown eyes were clearly foggy, and he wasn’t all lucid with the frankly unbelievable amount of drugs being pumped through him to keep the pain away — but he still, on some level, recognized Erik.

He called him dad.

That word felt like an arrow through the heart and Erik didn’t have to think before he sat before his son’s bedside and gripped his limp hand, “Yes, Pietro, I’m here. Mein Sohn.”

Peter blinked slowly, his brow furrowed a bit in confusion before he smiled, “That’s good dad. Love you.”

Erik shakily breathed in, as his son’s eyes fluttered close, and he kissed his son’s brow, “I love you too my boy. Mein Wundersohn.”

Marya smiled at the precious moment and she-for-once would admit she was wrong about this. Erik would never harm Peter, and as Erik fell asleep at Peter’s bedside holding his son's hand like a lifeline, Marya knew she was leaving her son in good hands.

Notes:

I absolutely love how this turned out! Also, I am currently so obsessed with Dadneto so I was super excited that House of Dadneto 2025 event is still ongoing!

Next Dadneto One-shot

[dandelion-blues]

I am so glad it's still ongoing cause I am so excited and really needed something to get me out of my writer's block! 😆

The House of Dadneto 2025 Begins!

Welcome everyone to the second House of Dadneto event! We are so very excited to see what you've all been working on these past months, and if this is the first you've heard of the event- no worries! You have the entirety of June to jump in on the fun! Make sure to check the Prompt Lists and Event Info for more details!

For all those participating this year, please make sure to tag your posts with #houseofdadneto2025 and @ this blog so we can share all your wonderful works!

And remember, if you complete 15 or 30 prompts by the end of the month, you’re also eligible for a prize, so make sure to check out the Prize Information and Rules to make sure that you qualify! You can can also find more information about Posting Guidelines here and our Frequently Asked Questions here. If you have any more questions, feel free to send us an ask and we’ll answer as soon as we can!

Above all though- make sure to have fun! This event is a celebration of the platonic and familial bonds Magneto shares with his many, many children -both blood related or found family- and we hope you enjoy the event as much as we do! We can't wait to see what you have in store, and remember to share some love to these wonderful creators who are participating this year!

Enjoy the House of Dadneto everyone! ✨✨✨

Announcement // Prompts // Event Info

[dandelion-blues]

Oh, this is so fun!!! I might write some things for the event!

The House of Dadneto 2025 is starting off twice as strong! ✨

Wow everyone! We cannot believe just how amazing the response has been to this year's House of Dadneto event so far! You're all so incredibly talented and it's been a joy seeing all your creations roll in!

In the first week, the House of Dadneto 2025 had 43 unique works posted for the event, which is absolutely wild (or "fucking batshit" as Sunset put it)!!

To all those who have participated so far, thank you so much! It's really been a highlight of our day getting to see all the wonderful things you've made for our chaotic magnet dad!

As is tradition, we like to spotlight all the incredible works that have come out each week, so please enjoy the list below with links to all the fics, edits, and gifsets that were posted! Make sure you give these creators some love as they've done an outstanding job, and we can't wait to see what you all have in store next week!

✨ Just a quick reminder that the House of Dadneto has an official AO3 Collection you can browse or add to if you are posting on AO3! Check out this post for more details on how! ✨

First Week of the House of Dadneto!

takes a strong hand and a sound mind. by @mapofyourstars

Chapter 1: Bonding - Erik’s grateful for every moment he can share with his babies, but that’s especially true when they share breakfast together. Chapter 2: Time Loop - Life picks on Erik, and he tries to pick back. Chapter 3: Apology - Lorna practices her ability, and Erik accidentally breaks. Chapter 4: Resemblance - The kids find an old photo of Erik. They compare notes. Chapter 5: Presumed Dead - On a quiet morning walk, Erik, Wanda, and Lorna discover something among the brush.

Galas & Guns by @callie-caje

Erik has been away from home for the last week and Pietro is excited him to come home, even if they were hosting a Gala. It was going well too, until the grenades' went off. (Besides, who brought metal guns to fight Magneto?)

soon the darkness comes with all the monsters by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

Five times Erik made Nina feel safe. (And the one time he couldn’t.)

I'll die loving you from a distance (I'll be wishing it was different) by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

“I could turn you in.” “You could.” OR After being struck with the ‘cure,’ Magneto makes a visit.

This Is Nice. by @onlyheartaches

Magneto wants nothing more than to repair his relationship with his son; Pietro wants nothing more than to see their relationship repaired. Cue the aquarium outing.

Too Soon, Not Yet by AuntieEm30

When news of a facility imprisoning mutant children reaches Erik, he and the few remaining x-men are determined to free them, and Erik's son insists on the joining the mission. Erik appreciates what he brings to the table, but that new parental fear is its own hurdle -- for good reason.

What Power Brings by @it-meant-nothing

Erik wonders what the purpose of his powers really is when all it brings is death and destruction, which isn’t surprising since it came from his rage. But then, his son came along, with similar power to his. And instead of thinking it was a curse, Pietro loved his power. He fiddled with metal with his little hands, and every time he did it, he did so with a smile. He doesn’t carry with him the rage and grief the way his father did.

Commiseration by @theaterpug-writes

“Why did you come here Wanda?” Erik asked finally. “To find out the truth.” “Did you find what you were looking for?” Wanda visits her father after the UN trial.

Let yourself be loved by @silverpleatherjacket

“You can go too, if you want,” Peter said sharply, “You don’t owe me anything.” “No. I will not leave because you are my son, and you are hurt.” And there it was. Son. What a shitty time for the grand reveal.

Peter never got around to telling Erik. When he got hurt by Jean and it looked like he might not make it, Charles took it into his own hands. It was just a shame that Peter couldn't find it in himself to look Erik in the eye, no matter how much he wanted his dad.

Family Threads by AuntieEm30

Prompts: Bonding + Admiration

Better than Music by @bpd-erik

Erik gives Peter his first T-Shot

that same look in your eyes by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

Wanda makes a joke. Erik takes it seriously. She doesn’t correct him. (Cue: a game of chess.)

pinky promise? by @stolenlullabies05

Peter gets his wisdom teeth out.

You are the Moon, Dear Love by @theaterpug-writes

A moment in time between a father, his son and his granddaughter on a sandy Genoshan beach.

An Interesting Brain Exercise. by @onlyheartaches

In which Pietro wonders whether his powers will allow for time travel, and Magneto offers his own opinion on undoing the pain of the past.

Fault Lines (Chapter 3) by @sunsetuniverse

X-Men '97 E5 — Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch attend the gala, and the subsequent fallout.

now in its place is something new by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

They’ve barely made it into the diner, doors swinging shut behind them, shoes squeaking along the grimy linoleum floor, when the horde finally reaches town. OR A close call after the end of the world. Erik has some thoughts.

Mojo Royale! by @theaterpug-writes

The dastardly Mojo kidnaps Polaris and her father Magneto and forces them to fight to the death in an attempt to garner ratings- but the father-daughter duo have a plan to end his twisted game and potentially stop his broadcasts once and for all.

A Way To Say Sorry by @onlyheartaches

When a failure during a mission, however slight, reminds Pietro of his troubled past with his father, Magneto tries to find a way to say sorry.

you can't keep them all caged, they will fight and run away by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

“You can’t keep me here forever.” OR After so much loss, Erik is determined to keep his son safe.

To freeze time in a picture by potato4power

Luna get some help from Erik on her family tree homework

Midnight Meals by @theaterpug-writes

Erik makes scrambled eggs for an injured Peter as the two men have a conversation about the past, the present, and the mutants who got them there.

Change by @onlyheartaches

The time-displaced X-Men are home; the war against Apocalypse is finally over. Now, Magneto is able to have some quiet time to reflect, and to spend with his son.

i can picture you staring by Caspiansea

Four years on T has changed his face, but he still looks like Wanda. In Peter’s opinion, it’s more like what was always there was just uncovered rather than some seismic shift in his appearance. It only makes him wonder if he’s growing into a face melded by his father’s genes. Peter’s started to spend hours staring at everyone else, trying to draw connections between them and someone else. How do you even tell if two people have the same nose? But then he sees his neighbors kids, who despite being blonde and with brown eyes, look exactly like their dad in a million ways Peter can’t even parse out. So fucking annoying. Why couldn’t that dickhead have stuck around so Peter could see what he was getting into? Why couldn’t he have stuck around so that Peter’s mom didn’t have to deal with them by herself?

a moment’s worth by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

Following a training session gone wrong, Peter ends up with a concussion. Thankfully, his dad is there to help.

The Power In Resemblance by @onlyheartaches

When Pietro puts Magneto's helmet on in a moment of boredom, it prompts a conversation between father and son about Magda, and Nina, and Anya … and it prompts a reflection on the guilt and grief that Magneto has worn for thirty long years.

fly till you find your way toward tomorrow by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

Peter has given it a lot of thought. To how Erik would react, that is, to the whole ‘father-son’ bombshell. Somehow, though— He never quite predicted this. OR At a party in Genosha, Peter gathers the courage to finally tell Erik the truth.

Hospital Visits by @onlyheartaches

The celebrations in Genosha came to a brutal end with the arrival of the genocidal Sentinels. And even as the present X-Men fought as best they could, the victory was Pyrrhic - the loss of so much life, on a night that was supposed to be for celebrating acceptance. On Quicksilver's end, the last thing Pietro saw of his father was Magneto's death, bathed in green light ... (Alternate ending to Genosha.)

Something to Believe In by AuntieEm30

Raven is a bit more proactive in encouraging the flow of information in a crucial moment, Erik is hurting for purpose, and Peter is just a little braver. Aka the “I’m your…” moment in X-men Apocalypse is followed-through on. It changes how things play out a bit.

once upon a december by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

The Mind Stone didn’t just activate Wanda’s mutation.

Favorite by @onlyheartaches

Pietro asks Magneto who his favorite student is, which gives Magneto an opening to say all the things he admires about his son.

Your words may sting (but I want to hear them all) by @silverpleatherjacket

It takes baby steps, little moments, for Peter to learn what it is to be a son. And for Erik, learning to be a father again is a beautiful, magical, painful thing. A.K.A Five times Peter shares something about his life with Erik, +1 time Erik shares something from his.

Admiration by @mapofyourstars

Giftset: erik tried to keep his cool guy composure (and also not be sick), but he couldn’t hide his admiration for peter’s ability.

Silver Spoon by @sunsetuniverse

Video Edit: Resemblance

Copper Beaches by AuntieEm30

Erik takes his twins on a trip to the beach, to bond and to share some big, startling news. it goes so much better than he expected.

of what the balance held by @xxqueenofdragonsxx

What we don’t see in the car ride from the Pentagon to the plane.

A Child’s Worries by @onlyheartaches

A young Pietro, not yet grown into a mutation of his own (aside from a head of silver-white hair), goes to Erik’s room to ask a burning question.

Mutation by @mapofyourstars

Giftset: erik and his children’s mutations

my blessing by @stolenlullabies05

I don’t deserve you, Erik wants to tell the small child in front of him. He looks at the thin tuft of auburn hair on his head, the stained tears that coat his cheeks. You are perfect and good and I don’t deserve a blessing like you. But he doesn’t. He forces the thoughts away, shoves them in the corners of his mind, before reluctantly taking Pietro into his arms. Or, glimpses of Erik learning how to raise his son.

If there are any details missing or mistakes in this list please let us know and we will amend it as soon as possible!

Thanks again to everyone who has participated so far (seriously what are they feeding you all??)! We've loved seeing your creations and we hope to see many more as June continues! ✨

Announcement // Prompts // Event Info

[dandelion-blues]

NEN: Never Expect Nonintervention

Summary:

What if Sally and Percy Jackson were reborn in the Hunter x Hunter Universe?

Of course, they would never be average citizens. No, Salacia 'Sally' Jackson is an infamous Hunter and, in her youth, had an amorous relationship with a certain Zoldyck. Leaving Percy to once again have a powerful, yet dangerous heritage. Only this time it's assassins instead of gods.

Chapter 1: A x New x Family

Percy breathed in fresh air, the sea salt teasing his tongue, and soft wind tossing his raven hair. He knew he wasn’t home, not by any means but still, being around the ocean always felt like a warm embrace, that familiarity and safety of the everchanging waves, that Percy knew he would always be welcome in. Why did it feel so right?

Still the pure blue of the ocean surrounding the island was untamed and raw with power, Poseidon’s power no longer felt. But still the ocean begged him home, and some part of Percy longed to come, to be unrestrained and free of the waves and to go wherever the flow took him.

That, however, is not the life for Percy, it could never be. Hades, Percy just feels so lost and unarchered. He’s like a fish out of sea. Drowning in the air of the unknown.

It was just a little while ago when his life felt complete and whole, but then something happened and Percy got really injured when he turned 9. It was just Percy and his mom, Salacia, but she preferred to go by Sally, against the world in York New City, York New. And his mom was always really careful with Percy, being a Hunter and all.

Percy still doesn’t know what happened that day, but from then on his mom was always jumpy and looking at every shadow. Her ocean eyes dark with shadows and her tan skin turning paler and paler with each and every day spent inside jumping from sounds and shadows.

Percy always loved looking like his mom, but still while his mom’s eyes changed to the color of the ocean, Percy’s were the ocean, ever changing and tuberlent. And Percy got her tan skin and wavy hair, though hers was a light brown in color.

The problem came though after that accident when he turned nine, and now he has a permanent lock of white hair right down the middle of his forehead. Sally immediately had him dye it, and dye it, and dye it again to remove it. (Percy refused to cut it, because then it would look like he had a bald spot in the middle of his forehead). But still it's not going away, and Percy swears it's even growing. 

Eventually, his mom took him to get this special dye in his hair, and Percy hasn’t had to re-dye it since. It isn't permanent though, the person doing his hair had said as much to the reassurance of his mom and Percy, but it should last much longer than a normal dye. It didn't even feel like a normal dye, something about it made his brain itch.

In any case, his mom always said Percy had his father’s black hair, his nose, his jaw, and would someday grow to be his height (even though he is the shortest in his class). Percy never knew how to feel about these connections to a man he never knew, but it was still who Percy was. But then when Percy got some white in his hair all the blood drained from his mom’s face, and the small connection that Percy had to his father seemed to be going away. Percy didn’t know if he should feel angry, sad, happy, or what, but well, he didn’t have time to process because he had to take care of his mom and make sure she was okay.

He would always prioritize his mom over himself. Every single time. His mom gave up her chance to go to college and become a famous author because of him. Instead she had a job that had them moving around all the time, made her weary and shifty instead of happy. Percy knew his mom was a Hunter, but he still never knew what exactly that entailed.

Though Sally won’t ever tell Percy this, he knows it’s because of him that he has to move around so often. Being a Hunter didn’t necessarily mean that his mom had to move from place to place, apartment to apartment. Why move around so much if they never left York New CIty after all?

One day though, Percy’s mom got this look in her eyes, and decided that Percy and her should take a trip to this island in the middle of nowhere and one day they did, months later in late February. His Mom decided it was best to sail there, even if it was at least a 2 week trip by boat.

Still, Percy was ecstatic to be at sea, it always called to him like a distant memory. He tried to remain upbeat for his mom, but something was really eating at her, and the chill in the air didn’t just seem to be from the winter chill.

Then, when Percy and his mom finally arrived at this unknown island called Whale island of all things (the island even looked like a whale!). His mom hugged him, and started crying, and looked Percy in his eyes, “I love you very much sweetheart, and I’m so so sorry for what I’m about to do, but you’ll be safe here, and my very close friend Mito is going to watch over you.”

‘W-what?’ Is mom abandoning him? Percy started to tear up. He hated feeling small, so much like a little kid, but he didn’t know what was going on and his mom was scaring him.

“No, sweetheart, it’s okay, It’ll all be okay,” His mom pulled him into her arms, and he felt her tears leak onto him, “Just know that I’ll always love you.” And then the world went white, and Percy woke up in an unknown house with all his luggage in this unknown room and this Mito person looking worriedly at him, and his mom was gone.

“Perseus Jackson?” Mito, a young woman questioned. She was around his mom's age with shoulder length red hair. Her brown eyes looked compassionately at Percy, and gods they reminded him so much as his mom, and he started crying. His small body racked with sobs.

“Oh dear, it’s alright!” And Mito hugged him, all warm but unfamiliar.

Percy sobbed into her arms until he was exhausted and he fell back asleep. 

Except he didn’t just sleep, he saw himself but older? Lightning was flashing all around him. Then pain and terror. A monster with the head of a bull and a body of a man squeezing the life out of his mom. Her screams for him to go. But Percy felt anger course through him like he’s never felt before, and he tore that monster’s horn from its head and slammed it into its ribcage. Gold surrounded him, gold as her death. Gold as his eyes.

Percy woke up gasping hard, what was that?! Phantom terror whacked him, and he watched every shadow waiting for them to leap out at him. His heart eventually calmed down, and his breathing slowed. He didn’t think he’d be able to fall back asleep tonight.

He didn’t.

Percy was tired and cranky when he came down for breakfast, and that nice woman Mito greeted him as well as an elderly lady. Their smiles are warm and soft.

Percy smiled back tentatively, but blushed and looked away awkwardly when he remembered sobbing into Mito’s arms.

Luckily, Percy was saved from his embarrassment when a boy around his age came running down the stairs. 

“Aunt Mito! Aunt Mito! I know I’m going to catch the Lord of the Lake today, I know it, and then I’ll be a Hunter!” The boy says excitedly jumping up and down, green spikey hair and green clothes ready for the day. 

Mito nods, but her smile wavers.

It’s a bit too much for sleep deprived due to nightmare-induced-trauma Percy right now.

Then the boy turns to face Percy, his face a lot like Mito’s but his brown eyes darker, and his skin slightly more tanned.

Those eyes though are looking really intense right now though, as the boy is like 3 inches away from Percy.

Percy backs away, uncomfortable.

“Now now Gon, that’s now way to treat a guest is it?” The old lady says to the boy now dubbed Gon.

“Yes, gran-gran.” Gon nods towards the elderly lady.

Mito claps her hands, “I guess we should do some introductions. I’m Mito, but you Percy may call me Aunt Mito.” This seems very much more like a demand than a request when Mito glances at them. 

Percy nods shyly.

“Oh, and this old lady is just grandma or gran-gran. Nothing else here.” Gran-gran says.

Percy nods, but he still isn’t super comfortable with such familiar titles with people he doesn’t really know, but he’ll honor their requests.

Then the green-haired boy sucks in a large gasp of air, “And I’m Gon Freecss, I’m 10 years old and I’m turning 11 on May 5th, and I’m going to be a Hunter just like my dad!”

Percy nods again. Then, everyone starts looking at him expectedly. Why are they looking at him, did something happen? All they did was introduce themselves. Oh, introduce. Percy needs to introduce himself. 

Great job Percy. He clears his throat, “Um, I’m Perseus Jackson, but please just call me Percy, and um I’m 9, turning 10 on August 18th, and yeah.” 

Gon somehow smiles wilder, “Wow, you’re about my age, wouldn’t have guessed it with how short you are?!” 

“Gon!” Mito lightly snacks Gon upside the head.

Gon sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry! Oh, do you want to go Lord of the Lake hunting with me today?!”

“Um…” Percy looks to Mito for help.

Mito sees Percy’s plea for help and intervenes, “Not today Gon, Percy just got here and needs some time to settle in.”

Percy smiles relieved and nods at Gon.

Gons sighs disappointed, “Alright! But you’re coming with me some other day!” 

Finally, Gon decided to sit at the kitchen table and Percy followed suit and ate some breakfast, while Gon scarfed his down in at most a minute and then was running out the front door.

Mito started calling after Gon, but he was already too far gone.

“That boy, I swear.” Mito shakes her head fondly, her short hair coming out from behind her ears.

“Oh, it’s alright dearie, he’s just like his father, Ging, was at that age.” Gran-gran said.

Percy looked interested in their conversion, but felt like he was intruding.

Mito glanced at Percy, and her light brown eyes softened, “Well lets give you a tour huh?”

“Alright Mi-” Percy cut himself off when he saw the red-haired woman’s stern glance, “Aunt Mito.” He corrected himself.

Mito smiled and then they went on a tour of the house, and after to the town and harbor.

Percy didn't really talk much, but Aunt Mito didn't seem to mind, instead talking about the island's history and pointing at some places and whatnot.

It was a rather full day all and all, and Percy was super exhausted by the end of it, but Mito was really kind and reminded him of his mom. Percy started sniffing, glad he was alone in the guest room that was now officially his. He didn’t want to start crying, but gods why did his mom leave him? And what was that bright light?

Percy started crying, but he made sure to stay silent, not wanting to wake anyone up.

But then his door creaked open, and Percy did his best to stop crying and wiped his eyes.

Gon walked slowly in, “You alright?” He said, his voice unusually soft form the energetic boy earlier.

Percy wanted more than anything to just say he was fine, but when he looked into Gon’s deep brown eyes, so sincere like Aunt Mito’s that he just said, “No.” 

Tears were already falling down his eyes again. 

Gon came over and held Percy, “Aunt Mito didn’t really tell me much of why you were staying with us, just that your mom left you here, and you would be staying here for an unknown amount of time.”

Percy nods against Gon, feeling comforted by the older boy.

Gon breathes in, “My situation isn’t quite the same, but my dad left me too when I was just a baby because he’s a Hunter. That’s why I want to be a Hunter, to see you amazing it must be to leave your kid behind.”

Percy hugs Gon back, and eventually breathes shakily in, “My mom’s a Hunter too, but she always kept work and me separate, but something must have happened, and she had to give me a-away b-because I got hurt, because I w-wasn’t s-strong enough.” 

Look Percy isn’t dumb, despite what some teachers will say about him, he knew that his mom was just trying to protect him, but he got hurt, because he wasn’t strong enough.

Then, Percy looks into Gon’s eyes determined, “But I want to be strong, and I want to be there for my mom, so I want to be a Hunter like her too, so she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore.” He promises with all the sincerity he can at nine years old.

“Great, we can be Hunters together, it’s a promise.” Gon smiles and holds his pinky out.

Percy holds his pinky out as well, and then Gon goes through a little chant that Percy follows along with, “Pinky swear, so if I lie, stick a thousand needles in my eye.”

Percy giggles, and then Gon leads their hands, so their thumbs are touching, and continues, “and seal it with a kiss.” Except Gon continues singing the kiss part for a while. Percy starts shaking silently with laughter.

Eventually Gon smiles at Percy, relieved the other boy is cheered up.

Percy's eyes eventually start drooping, and he falls against Gon almost asleep. Gon smiles at the younger boy and adjusts him so he’s lying down on the bed, and tucks him in.

Gon brushes some hair out of the younger boy’s eyes, like he remembers Mito doing to him, and he kisses his forehead, “Goodnight little brother.” Gon goes off to his bed feeling protective of his new family member, and filled with new determination to become a Hunter - to see what was so great about it that people would leave their family behind. Gon wasn’t really mad at his dad, or his little brother’s mom, but surely being a Hunter must be amazing to give up everything for it.

Notes:

I hope you all enjoyed this! 

And as for why Percy and somehow Sally are in the world of Hunter x Hunter, well that’s a secret for now. 

Crossed out lines are for thoughts Percy has either suppressed or doesn’t remember from his past life.

[dandelion-blues]

Wow, this just feels so bittersweet.

Growing up and learning the world through the shades of adult greys.

Set away your fantasy and embrace reality, for there is no shining knight to take you away.

Dreams are fleeting inconsequential things that will not pay for your livelihood.

Just give up, but live. Age, but don't let your winkles tell a story marked upon your skin.

Grow up!

growing up autistic / growing up gaslit

I.

this is the first lesson you learn: you are always wrong.

there is no electric hum buzzing through the air. there is no stinging bite to the sweetness of the mango. there is no bitter metallic tang to the water.

there is no cruelty in their laughter, no ambiguity in the instructions, no reason to be upset. there is no bitter aftertaste to your sweet tea, nothing scratchy about your blanket.

the lamps glow steadily. they do not falter.

II.

this is the second lesson you learn: you are never right.

you are childish, gullible, overly prone to tears. you are pedantic, combative, deliberately obtuse. you are lazy, unreliable, never on time.

you’re always making up excuses, rudely interrupting, stepping on people’s shoes. you’re always trying to get attention, never thinking about anyone else, selfish through and through.

it’s you that’s the problem. the lamps are fine.

III.

this is the third lesson you learn: you must always give in.

mother knows best. father knows best. doctor knows best. teacher knows best. this is the proper path. do not go astray.

listen to your elders, respect your betters, accept what’s given to you as your due. bow to the wisdom of experience, the education of the professional, the clarity of an external point of view.

what do you know about lamps, anyway?

[dandelion-blues]

Just made this meme 🤣

Yes, that is actually Chrysaor's wife's name: Callirhoe. I think it's funny.

Now I'm going to teach Chrysaor's origin story through a funny chat...

Chrysaor: I'm the best twin. My name literally means Golden Sword. That beats a flying horse any day!

Pegasus: *Neighs angerily* (At least everyone remembers who I am)

Chrysaor's eyes glow red underneath his golden mask, and Pegasus flies away spooked.

Chrysaor: That's right, fly away back to your Daddy Poseidon!

Medusa (only in Chrysaor's head cause she's dead): He's your daddy too.

Chrysaor swipes away the phantom image of his mom. Swatting away at her like a partially annoying pigeon (fitting since she has wings)

Chrysaor: Why does he get to have all the glory?! He's no better than a glorified taxi!

Poseidon: The best taxi that ever will be!

Chrysaor: Oh hi dad... You're giving out compliments today.

The only thing that can be heard is the sound of ocean waves.

Chrysaor: Should have expected that. Whelp I'm just going to continue training my sword fighting skills in hopes of getting my dad's attention.

[dandelion-blues]

Love this so much! The Lightning effects are so amazing!!! 😍😍😍

Also, for more Octavian is the best boi and sibling trifecta, because there will be no Tavi hate in this house, I once again share this fanfic.

And this poem.

💛Octavian💛

Yellow.

Hitting people with that liking Octavian beam and he’s a magician to make him cooler.

Rest of the primary colors:

They are lil siblings your honor

[dandelion-blues]

I love this song!!! Troy is such an amazing artist! Aquarius just feels so right, the talk about the heart and the world is so good!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I'm an Aquarius, and this is AMAZING!

[dandelion-blues]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug, Hades (Supergiant Games Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

For my dear friend V!

  Summary:

A masked man, otherwise known as Hawkmoth, smirks as he holds a fluttering butterfly in his grasp. In his other hand, he leans on a cane, his purple coat tails flaring dramatically behind him.

“Such a fragile thing...” the man says, closing his hand over the insect, “...life is.”

The soft crunch can be heard, and the man scoffs as he releases the butterfly. The small body falls to the ground, crumpled white wings and squished bleeding abdomen left on the cold, dark floor.

“Soon, though, I’ll be the master of it all!” The man yells, a pure grin plastered beneath his silver mask.

Only, the balance of life and death cannot be threatened so easily, and a rather protective god of destruction known as Plagg will not see his boy, his Adrien, hurt for a man's delusional gain! Even if it means trading in favors from other gods, the kwami will do whatever it takes to keep Adrien safe.

[dandelion-blues]

#11 What if...

Danny Phantom and Zagreus met?

DP x Hades crossover

Flying through the air, so free, 

Gravity can’t touch me!

A Phantom, 

An echo on the earth, 

And yet I’ve never been so alive!

Running from infernals, trapped, 

Fire burning my feet into the ground.

A Prince, 

One the Fates were convinced to let exist, 

And yet I feel that I do not exist at all.

Danny ‘Fenton’ Phantom flew through what he thought was the Ghost Zone. The endless greens entrapping him in a dizzying maze. Really, he should know that the name, the Realm, wasn’t given to the deathless by humans. No, the Realm was given Her name upon the very beginning, of when the stars were not yet born. When space was not even a thought. Of when the Universe had not yet exploded into existence with a BANG!

It was the Before. And in that nothingness, in the complete antisis of what the abyss should be, a sort of life grew. A Realm, living and whole, and filled with an energy so opposed to what is now known as “true life.” This was the beginning of the Infinite Realms.

So, of course, a ghost who knew not of his true denizenship would get lost in the infinity that expanded out before him.

Still, the Realm loved each of Her subjects, but She especially loved Her dear Prince as he fought off the tyrant. Therefore, She guided the young one, and oh he was oh so young compared to Her — She who existed before All. Guided Phantom to a realm within her Realm, towards another deathless Prince who yearned for freedom and stars. 

Towards young Zagreus, son of Hades, cursed to an endless cycle of death and rebirth. That even the supposed life-giving air in which the living breathed in instead killed the prince. However, the Realm was truly infinite, a deathless Realm that surrounded the living, and She would never let Her subjects die upon seeing Her stars, Her sun, Her life.

Thus, the Realm set about for a duo seeking freedom and hope and acceptance to find one another. To search the stars together, escaping the bonds which chained them to the ground.

Notes:

I just wrote this today in my creative writing club and thought this would be a fun thing to post.

Don't worry, I haven't disappeared, I've just been swamped, but I do plan on posting more eventually!

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[dandelion-blues]

Oh, wow, I didn't know that! Thanks for the information! 😊

What does the dead dove tag mean?

Wonderful question!

“Dead Dove” comes from this scene in Arrested Development wherein the character Michel Bluth opens a brown paper bag that reads: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. He looks inside and sees what is in fact, a dead dove. The then says: “Well, I don’t know what I expected.”

In fandom, the tag has come to mean: “pay extra attention to the tags!” And/or “this fic is what it says on the tin!”.

So if, for example, a fic includes the tags: Body Horror, Gore, and Violence along with the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag, the author is saying “Hey I’m not joking about these tags! Read at your own discretion!”

The tag acts as an honest intensifier to whatever tags are already in the work, as the author using it wants to give a double warning for their content, that it may be triggering and that the reader should proceed with caution.

One fic tagged with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, also includes the tags: Seriously, this fic deals with some serious and disturbing content matter, mind the tags

Thanks for asking and happy reading!

[dandelion-blues]

Follow the Light

Little lamb, lost in the dark,

We know all thy woes, thy hark.

We shine upon thee a blinding light,

Reaching past the abyss' might.

A mere shadow to life,

We'll save thou from strife.

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you need not suffer anymore

[dandelion-blues]

Eternity

My last words,

The salt of my tears intermingled with the dust of the cosmos on my tongue.

My last breath,

Entwined with your blood, sweat, and grime.

My last heartbeat,

Ripped out, taken in your weary hands.

Our last life,

Our love forever in the eternity of our final rest.

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in all timelines in all possibilities only you can show me this

[dandelion-blues]

Fiat Lux

For my best friend, @ilikesand

For my best friend, in which I never would have understood the gravity of the misunderstood without you. Would have never had Octavian become one of my favorite characters. I hope you like it!

Also, on Ao3

Summary (PJO One-Shot):

Octavian knew the signs. He knew the gods were displeased, and still, everyone wanted to disregard the rules. So Octavian was done with sacrificing stuffed animals - the gods would no longer answer to such inconsequential sacrifices.

Apollo takes notice of his dear descendant and grants him a true vision and a choice upon Octavian's sacrifice. Well, it's not like Octavian would take the alternative of sitting back and doing nothing, regardless of what others think. He's already used to people not liking him, and bullying him for things he can't control, so he might as well play the villain if it means saving the world - if it means saving his siblings, siblings who probably don't even remember him.

Octavian

The air was biting, cold and rigid. Octavian didn’t particularly mind though — no, what he minded was the festering storm and rolling thunder clouds on the horizon. As Augur, it was his duty to divine the message the gods have sent him. The glares and spits he got as he headed up to Jupitar’s temple from his fellow comrades notwithstanding.

Thunder boomed as he entered the temple and Octavian hurried along to the altar. He didn't think about the last time Jupiter was in such a mood. The quakes of power searing through his temples as visions of lightning strikes burned villages and people to dust. No, Octavian instead thought of the boisterous laughter of his siblings as a storm boomed around them. Of the times when it was as if the storm was playing along to their childish claps with a loud quake of thunder following them.

Ah, it seems he's getting a bit too sentimental. No matter, Octavian has long since buried his heart under his duty to uphold the order and pride of Camp Jupitar. Much like his hands are stained red in the freshly dead animals offered to the gods, so too will the camp be if they don't appease the gods. Really, what did Praetor Reyna think when she sought to go to the old lands? They are forbidden for a reason.

The gods are angry. And Octavian is done playing with useless stuffed animals. He warned the senate that the old ways were there for a reason — that messing with tradition is treacherous, and yet, the council's soft palate won out. But if they won't get things done and rightfully appease the gods — Octavian will do it himself!

Thus, with a careful and quick slice, blood spilled from a young calf. The red seeped on the altar, as the animal thudded down, its heart beating its last. Octavian breathed in deeply and thanked the calf for its sacrifice on his exhale, for the spirits held in respiration — of the life taken and given. Octavian knew the gods would do much worse if they didn't get their dues.

Just as the patience began to seep away from him as the moments ticked away, the blood starting to dry, Octavian's received a vision with a searing clarity. The Earth claimed thousands of lives in her womb — the screaming and gasping as they were buried alive. The Greeks fighting the Romans in a bloody war as Terra Mater laughed.

Octavian gasped for breath, heaving and trying to calm his pounding heart.

“So, my descendant has finally decided to stop sacrificing useless pillow pets ?!” A silky voice whispered.

But even quiet the voice held power, as the once cold room became almost sweltering hot.

Octavian instantly knelt to the ground, knowing intimately who this was — his ancestor, the source of his bloodline — Apollo.

“My lord,” Octavian spoke reverently and respectfully, staring at the marble tile. Nothing more or less unless given permission.

Octavian heard the footsteps heading toward him, the steps like a tap-tap to a somber dance. The legacy didn't dare look up, even as he saw the golden sandals of the god before him.

The god knelt down a bit, reaching hand up gently but forcefully and grabbed Octavian's chin, making him stare right in the burning gaze of the god. The legacy couldn't formulate words in his mind for how beautiful and terrifying those golden eyes were. Much later all Octavian could think was that he was staring right into the might of the sun, and the god protected him from burning from such a sight.

“Yes, you will do, my favored descendant.” The god whispered in Octavian's ear, the words coiling around his mind like a snake.

And then the god whispered to his descendant a plan of power and glory, and a burning fiery aftermath or of the righteous storm that will save the world from destruction. That should the storm save the world; the son of Jupiter will pay the price of sacrifice. But should Octavian intervene and influence the path of fate… of the scorn and distrust should Octavian survive it. The legacy didn't dare utter a word about how it would hardly be different then things are now and how any price was worth it as long as he stays alive, but somehow, he felt the god knew what he was thinking. The power of the gods uneclipsed and true.

The god’s eyes impossibly softened, looking more akin to the burning embers of dusk than the blazing glory of day, “Yes, my descendant, the one who shines brightly with my gift. You have shown resolve and cunning even as others look down upon and mock you. You are the one who knew that Mors was chained and forced Mars to acknowledge it, even if others began to look at you callously. You knew that you could not spare troops to help the quest to free Death, lest Camp Jupiter would fall. Even if you had to be seen as evil in the process.”

“So, I ask of you, my dear Octavian, are you willing to do what needs to be done?” Apollo asks, his voice stern yet kind.

Octavian looks into his ancestor's eyes, those beautiful balls of flame, and says, “Yes, my lord.”

“Then rise my Pontifex Maximus.” The god commands, and Octavian does.

Even if nothing changes outwardly with the title. There is no crown or laurel Octavian now wears, he feels as if a great force is weighing him down, but still he rises.

Like always, Octavian will do what needs to be done, even if others hate and belittle him afterwards. Still, if it saves the world, if it saves his brother, then what does Octavian care that people will think him evil.

“You will save us all,” The god claims, and then the air swelters, the god burning brightly making the legacy close his eyes from the sheer light.

Then, the air grows cold as the god dreams his presence fit elsewhere, and a faint smell of laurels permeates in the temple. The sacrifice accepted and disappeared from view, even the stains of blood vaporizing before the legacy’s eyes.

All that's left is a paper floating down in the air. Octavian catches it, smudging the still wet blood from his offering on the paper. Both ends of the paper are charcoaled black and only one line can be read: to storm or fire the earth must fall.

Octavian straightens up and smiles grimly. He is the bridge between men and the gods, the Pontifex Maximus, and now has control of the Roman army. It's rather ironic that he now outranks all those that called him too weak and feminine to even wield a sword, but no matter, he knows his duty to camp and to the gods unlike them, who would rather sit by and watch the world burn. Ironic isn’t it, how the Morai twist and weave their tapestry?

Octavian may never be a good man, but he is at least a loyal one, and he will be damned to Hades if he didn’t do all he could to protect what little he has. He upheld the god's standards, even if others have faltered. He left his siblings to their father’s whims, because Lord Jupiter demanded it. Wanted them to prove themselves worthy of the king’s power and authority. Then, his big sister was mauled to the brink of death when she was twelve, and his little brother became more wolf than boy as Lady Juno demanded her prize.

But just this once, Octavian is able to uphold not just the god’s demands, but his personal one’s as well — one’s that he had to abandon so his brother grew up strong and capable. But now, with the future knowledge that Lord Apollo has granted him, Octavian won’t let the world fall to his storm if it’s the last thing he does. He will not damn his little brother to an early death, and so Octavian will brave the agony of burning alive — knowing his brother will be the one to survive.

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

Fire was the hearth and the home, safety and warmth, but it was also destruction and searing pain. Why did his kin, the son of Apollo, or anyone else for that matter not tell him he was attached to the onager — to the unstable bomb of Imperial Gold that he devised to kill Mater Terra? Octavian knew he was to be burned alive to enact Lord Apollo’s vision to save the world — to save his little brother. But Octavian didn’t know it would be like this. Didn’t know that he was to be treated like an evil monster that needed to be burned alive.

Octavian knew he acted like a madman in his plans — that no one really liked him prior to his ascension to power. But did no one, not one of his comrades that knew him for years, try and understand why?

Octavian would like to say that it didn’t hurt — that his heart was long dead to the sting of betrayal — but like an innocent “witch” set to be burned at the stake, he was unprepared for how much fire would burn.

But guess it doesn’t matter anymore. With his ancestor’s help things were put in the correct motion, and now he was hurtled through the sky.

The air whipped around him like razors, and two screams joined him.

Octavian saw a vision, like he was no longer in his body of a boy flying on a bronze dragon and the evil Earth Goddess hurtling up in the sky. He watched like the phantom he was about to become as a brilliant fire erupted in the sky — pure golden white, brighter than Apollo’s might — and everyone one down below became blinded from the light.

‘Fiat Lux,’ Octavian thought, let there be light.

But, even as the vision of the blinding light came to him, and Octavian knew he was about to face his imminent death, all he could focus on was finding his siblings in the crowd.

There! He saw them for not even a second, but it was enough for Octavian to accept his demise. They were alive!

Still, that didn’t prepare the legacy for how much his death would hurt.

The might of the inferno charcoaled his flesh and ignited his veins in its all-consuming heat. The screams that ripped out of his throat were soon gone as his voice box crumbled to ash. The ringing in his ears like a blaring siren, but left to the silence of death, just as his eyes melted and empty sockets only saw darkness.

Thump-Thump

The agony of living in a body that should have already been a corpse.

Thump

Why was he still alive? He just wanted this to be over.

…Thump

Octavian for once felt absolutely nothing. It was a kind of numbness that felt wrong, as if he was on the verge of Chaos, of the void of nothingness in which all life sprung from.

…

At last, he can rest.

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

The scarred soul was taken up and examined like it was a partially interesting thing. Two pitch black eyes stared at the essence of the boy’s soul, looking down upon it from his long black beak.

“Yes, yes, you who have suffered and preserved.” The being spoke to himself, “Of the one who always kept learning, even as the wisdom of what was to come was horrid. Your ancestor has a kindness in his heart that leads to tragedy, but even then, he knew that yours was too much. Of a legacy that would be wrongly scorned, and a family that would be left aching at your seeming betrayal.”

“Well, Apollo was already to be punished he knew,” The being cackled, a trilling sound as his black and white feathers ruffled, and he examined a vial in his dark humanoid hand, “So why not have his son have two cures prepared.”

The being smiled with their beak, and the ashes of the dead was given the Asclepius’ cure for death. Nerves, organs, bones, muscles, ligaments, and flesh all brought back. The once horrifically burned and scarred flesh is now as soft as a newborn’s.

“Why hello,” the being spoke to newly opened golden eyes — eyes marked by divinity, “My little magician.”

“Who are you?” The now revived Octavian spoke, his words tumbling and unfamiliar as if this was his first time speaking.

“Why, my friend. I am Thoth.” The Egyptian God of the Moon, Magic, Writing, Learning, and Wisdom spoke.

“Why-” Octavian spoke softly, not able to bring words to his tumulus thoughts, of the memories of pain that were no longer felt as his heart beat strongly in his chest.

“-am I alive?” The god finished the legacy. “Well let’s just say Apollo had a bit of foresight, and didn’t want to lose his favorite descendant.”

The god stroked his neck feathers with his humanoid hand, “Your gods are quite possessive after all. And of course, how could I not help when he came to me speaking of a legacy of two pantheons. You are quite the commodity, practically nonexistent, so how could I resist?”

Octavian’s mind was whirling, but that’s when it clicked. No wonder he didn’t recognize the god’s name. The legacy remembered when he was very little and knew nothing of his father’s place in Camp Jupiter, when his mother was still alive and present in his life. When she brought her family to the movie’s she started in — of an ancient civilization that worshiped gods with animal heads and human bodies. A film about the Egyptian Gods that his father was none too thrilled to see, calling them ridiculous. Of the repercussions that followed as his parents started yelling and fighting and soon a little girl boy with blonde hair and electric blue eyes was born, who was not his father’s daughter son — and, thus, is Octavian’s half sister brother.

Turns out the youngest sibling born of adultery having the same electric blue eyes as the eldest sibling — a searing blue like a strike from the heavens — was too much for Father to stand.

Then, the rest is history. Father took Octavian away from his starlet mother, and his half siblings, and introduced him to camp Jupiter and all the gods they worship — and started training him for his future duty as Augur. Of the harsh words and punishments should Octavian not excel at what he was taught. Of the sparse news outlets that Octavian snuck out to watch — of his mother’s falling fame, and his older sister running away. Of the visions that started to eat away at him — of screams and suffering.

Then, the son of Jupitar came to camp — with all too familiar electric blue eyes, and Octavian knew, he knew that this boy that was more wolf pup than boy (because he was raised by Lupa, even given a new name by the Wolf Goddess than by their human mother) was his little brother. That those harsh words his father called his mother now made sense as Octavian looked into those familiar eyes, the echoes of childhood and innocence long gone. Understanding that their Father called Beryl whore for a reason, as she fell into the God King’s lust not just once but twice when she was a married woman. But the second time, Juno wouldn’t abide her husband’s transgressions and took the child as her champion — to mold him into a perfect soldier. Never having the chance to just be an innocent child, but to be a slave forced into servitude.

Octavian could do nothing but stay away as the wolf boy was turned into a perfect solider, as Jason was isolated from having a family or friends of his own! As his skin was branded at 3 years old!

But, of course, even if Jason, his little brother, was allowed to live — even if only for his potential to bring Juno glory, Thalia would not be spared, even if Juno seemed to turn a blind eye. The slight of Jupiter cheating not once but twice, was too much. And so, when Octavian was an angry ten-year-old, Thalia was just twelve, and Jason was six — his big sister was dead. And all Octavian had to show for it was the tears streaming down his face as he dreamt of his big sister being ripped apart by hellhound. No vision years later of her surviving erased the pain, knowing that he could do nothing by watching as her blood and bones became bark and sap.

“Are you alright, little magician?” Thoth spoke softly.

Octavian blinked, tasting a bit of salt on his tongue. He wiped at his face and oh, he was crying. He laughed a bit, the sound bitter and hoarse. His siblings probably didn’t even remember who he was, he was hardly in their lives after all, so what right does he have to cry over them?!

“Yes, I’m fine.” Octavian lied, his eyes red and stuffy.

The god thankfully didn’t call him out on his lie, “Well, in that case, I think it’s time I start to teach you about your other heritage. Of the pharaoh in which you and your father descended from.”

Octavian inclined his head, only a numb echo of surprise panting in his skull. He wanted to avoid his intrusive thoughts, so focusing on some hopefully strenuous tasks instead of recounting his broken family was very much welcomed.

“Well, you see, as a descendant of a pharaoh, and the deal Apollo made, you are now my host…” Thoth went on to explain Octavian’s heritage and his expectation as a host to Thoth.

Octavian took it all in clinically. Truthfully, it felt like a traded one cage for another, but at least this time Octavian’s wings weren’t clipped. In fact, he now had an avatar form that had wings, generously gifted to him from his new connection to Thoth — not that it helped with Octavian’s fear of flying when he remembered his death.

The god, his god, was surprisingly human in caring about and helping Octavian overcome this fear, but the legacy knew gods — they didn’t just help out of the kindness of their hearts. That’s just not how they work, it’s hardly even how humans work either. Octavian would know — he’s analyzed people’s behaviors constantly over the years to make sure he reacted appropriately — as people all too often liked to answer with their fists when he didn’t react the right way.

Really, Octavian did not understand why people ask how you are if they don’t actually want to know?!

That’s why Octavian liked the gods — they were true to themselves, to their essence. And Thoth, Octavian, was starting to learn was somehow a lot like him. He liked to read and learn everything he could. He was blunt and honest… and his family life was a mess.

Octavian really shouldn’t be relating in such a way to a god, but as Thoth's host he found himself learning more and more about the god. He found himself soaring through the skies and learning about the constellations with vigor, and laughing at the god’s misconceptions to modern technologies. He threw himself at his host duties, though he did avoid the other avatars that tried to contact him like the plague. And he found himself trying to forget of the siblings that thought him dead, trying to live a new life without any human interaction. Of course, like a prophecy, you can’t avoid the inevitable forever.

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

The wind that tousled around Octavian felt like freedom, and he spread out his white ibis wings, soaring through the sky, while the light of Apollo gently warmed his skin. Octavian felt free, flying above the world — everything down below a spec to his eyes, and no one could reach him as he soared high above in the sky.

Well, Octavian should have known not to think in absolutes. No normal person could reach him, but well it’s not as if he was prepared for someone to literally crash into him as he flew in the cloudless sky.

One second Octavian was simply flying through the air, and the next he was hurtling towards the ground — someone screaming at him as they knocked him out of the sky.

Octavian’s heart thudded in his chest, panic beginning to take hold on in his veins, but then everything seemed to stop — the air seemed to solidify around him, and a silence took hold around the area. There was no wind, no nothing. Nothing but the labored breath of two individuals.

“Sorry, for flying into you. I didn’t expect there to be anyone else in the sky,” a voice, an all too familiar voice, spoke.

Octavian would never, could never forget that voice, even if the River Lethe took his memories, took everything that made him Octavian — his soul would recognize that voice. His little brother: Jason Grace.

Octavian spoke up trying to keep his voice from wavering as faced his little brother — facing those pure blue eyes, “It’s no problem. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here either.”

Then, his little brother smiled, pure and bright, and laughed, “Yeah, my boyfriend is never going to let me live this down. He said I needed to watch where I was flying, and I told him that there was literally nothing in the sky. Guess I was wrong.”

Boyfriend?! What, Jason is a baby — he’s only 16 why does he have a boyfriend?!

“Oh, sounds like your boyfriend cares a lot about you,” he better anyways, or Octavian will make sure that the body is never found.

Jason’s entire face lit up, an enormous grin on his lips and his eyes went fond as he spoke, “Yeah, Percy’s the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

“Perseus Jackson is your boyfriend?!” Octavian couldn’t help but shriek.

Jason's face instantly closed off, his body tensing, and he asked his tone growing harsher, “Who are you, and how do you know my boyfriend?”

“Anyone who knows a lick of the Greco-Roman Pantheon knows of Percy Jackson,” Octavian spoke, his voice wavering as Jason still glared at him with those blue eyes.

“That doesn’t answer my first question.” Jason said, his voice holding little emotion — the air seeming to tighten its hold around Octavian.

“It’s time,” Thoth’s voice echoes in Octavian’s head.

Octavian shutters, but he sighs in defeat. He knew that he couldn’t avoid this forever, but he thought, he thought he would have to to prepare for their reunion.

“Very well, but can we first land?” Octavian speaks up, and sees that Jason remains unwavering, and so he vows, “I swear on the River Styx that I mean you no harm and will tell you who I am once we land.”

An echoing boom instantly is heard, and Jason’s hold on the air snaps. The two fall through the air, and Octavian instinctively flaps his wings, but Jason is still falling.

“Jason!” Octavian yells and speeds off to his little brother as he hurtles through the sky.

Octavian catches his little brother before he goes splat, and Octavian yells, his voice worried, “Why did you not use your powers?!”

Jason breathed in deeply, his voice a bit panicked, “I was trying, but I couldn’t focus!”

Octavian sighed in relief, as he could feel his little brother once again command the air, and separated from him, “I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Jason gives Octavian an indiscernible look, and nods his head, “Yeah, let’s just land, alright.”

Octavian agrees, and soon enough the two land in some park, the autumn tree leaves falling gently around the two.

“So you wanted to know who I was,” Octavian spoke up, calling off his avatar form, the beginning of recognition and shock beginning to seep into his little brother’s form, “Well, I’m Octavian Grace …” Neither of his parents deserved to be parents, but at least with his mother’s last name he shared it with his siblings.

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

“Brother!” Jason cried, instantly slamming into the older’s body, wrapping him in a hug.

Octavian instinctively hugged back, his shock delaying his reaction — Jason knew, knew that they were brothers.

“How?” Octavian could only ask, still startled as Jason held him tightly crying on his shoulder. And oh how much Jason has grown to be able to reach his shoulder — he used to barely reach Octavian’s middle.

Jason looked up at Octavian, tears streaming down his face, and sobbed “T-thalia r-remebered y-you, and s-spoke at your f-funera-al.” Jason held onto Octavian tighter, as if he was going to drop dead any minute, “And then A-apollo t-told e-everyone h-how you s-saved us. How you s-sacrificed y-yourself.”

Octavian had no words, no words to describe the complete and utter shock he was in, so all he could do was gape and say, “What?”

Then, Jason gasped, “Thalia.” He grabbed Octavian’s hand, “You need to see her.”

Octavian felt completely overwhelmed, but at the same time he felt a smidgen of hope swell in his chest as Jason led him away. He was going to see his big sister again.

Apparently, Thalia and Jason must have been having a picnic, because there she was on a blanket surrounded by sandwiches and fruits laid out before her. Octavian ignored the other person — the aforementioned boyfriend that was sitting there as well.

She still looked so young, baby fat still clearly on her face, despite the fact that she’s 21, almost 22. She’s eternally 15, never able to grow up, to mature because she’s sworn an oath to Lady Diana.

“Who’s-,” Thalia muttered as she turned to look at Octavian being dragged by Jason, but then her eyes went wide with recognition.

Her eyes were alight, like lightning striking through a storm, as she hurtled herself at Octavian.

“Tavi!” She called out trapping Octavian in a tight embrace.

Octavian held his sister closely, the nickname making him reminisce when his big sister thought Octavian was an old man's name, and he needed a name fit for being her little brother. A time before his father took him away from her.

“You’re alive!” Thalia cried, relief awash in her face. “I never thought I’d see you again Tavi.”

“I’m here.” Octavian murmured and looked over to meet Jason’s eyes, and beckoned him over.

Jason didn’t hesitate and was embraced by his two older siblings, his face held in the crook of Octavian’s neck, as the middle sibling bent down to hold the two.

Everything felt right and whole again. His family was alive and well!

Of course, Octavian had to eventually address the elephant in the room.

“So…” Octavian began awkwardly as his siblings pulled back a bit, but never far away enough to not hold onto him — the memories of his death still too fresh, “Perseus Jackson, my little brother’s boyfriend?”

Jason's face went bright red, and he averted his eyes to look at Percy.

Percy hesitantly approached the trio of siblings, standing nearer Jason, and eloquently greeted, “Hello.”

Thalia's face palmed, and spoke, “This is little brother 2.0, also known as our future brother-in-law.”

Percy and Jason both sputtered but didn’t exactly refute her statement.

Octavian just simply observed, a small smirk growing on his face, “Well, nice to meet you brother-in-law.” It feels good to tease his younger brother, after sixteen years, and finally Octavian is free to just interact with him — to finally place his family before duty.

Percy’s face went as red as a tomato, but he smiled and held Jason’s hand tight in his.

“Stop teasing us,” Jason whined, pouting a little bit like a sad puppy.

Percy nodded his head, giving a look that reminded Octavian of a seal pup. These two.

“It’s only our right to tease little brothers,” Thalia smirked, “Tavi got a lot of catching up to do, after all.”

“Indeed.” Octavian agreed.

The two teens whined no’s, but their huge smiles gave them away.

Octavian thought, ‘This must be Elysium.’

It wasn’t perfect, too many distrusted the hero people lauded him to be when he returned to see Camp, and those that shifted their stances gave Octavian whiplash. But Octavian never did what he did for glory or claimed to be a hero — he did it for them, not the world after all. Still, Octavian will take this little piece of Elysium that he’s been granted with his siblings, and make sure every breath they take will never be their last.

Notes:

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed my reading and the journey!

Through learning and re-reading about Octavian, he really is hated upon too much. Really, I view him as someone who doesn't like when other breaks the rules, as he views the rules are rigid, that they are there for a reason and meant to be upheld. Rick also describes everyone who meets him as instantly distrusting and not liking him, even as going as far as to say how is more effeminate traits are unappealing. Octavian was really just done dirty.

Anyways, Octavian's just a lil guy, who's also insanely tall, and as per my friend's head cannon, and is half-siblings with Thalia and Jason Grace. I honestly really love this, and my friend is such a good writer. I can't wait to read their Octavian fic!

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[dandelion-blues]

Honestly, this! Sometimes, I do get nervous about leaving comments, thinking they have to be this essay of what I like about what I read. When really, it's just nice to show your appreciation, even it it's a simple "❤️❤️❤️". Really, comments make my day, and it's nice to show others the same thing. Of course, if you don't want to comment, which is perfectly fine, kudos are much appreciated 😊

in 2025 let’s bring back being enthusiastic on ao3. leave a comment on every chapter. leave kudos and, if necessary, leave “double kudos” in the comments. tags and notes on bookmarks. the whole nine yards. let’s show fanfic authors how much we love them.