#* .・ fearless child broken boy; tell me what it’s like to burn » musings.

[philipcharmont]

                     the charmont family tree

                                                         past gen 

the parents;;

hubert charmont ( nick hargrove / derek jacobi ) - the king who is trying his best to not only save his sons but keep his kingdom as well. feels he has let down his sons after the passing of their mother. he just wants what is best for them especially as his time on this earth draws to a close.

adele charmont (née friedrich) ( abigail cowen / bryce dallas howard ) - the queen with a fire burning in her soul that matched the hair atop her head. loved fiercely and was adored by all. she was truly a diamond. tragically passed away leaving behind three beautiful boys and a broken hearted king. 

                                                  present gen 

kit charmont ( richard madden / colin farrell ) - the eldest charmont son. future king of ulstead. the golden son who had far too much responsibility placed on his shoulders from a young age. his entire life has been given to his kingdom. but now does he listen to duty or follow his heart ?

florian charmont ( chace crawford / ewan mcgregor ) - the middle child. the rebel prince. he onced believed love and hope could save all until it couldn’t save the most important person to him. anger and resentment now lay within this lost prince but is it still possible to save him from the edge ?

philip charmont ( zac efron / james marsden ) - the youngest charmont. future king of ylisse. the prince who’s heart threatens to leap out of his chest and ride into the sunset. he’s on a mission to complete his hero’s quest but has learned that the journey to becoming a hero is not always the easiest. 

aurora capulet ( phoebe dynevor / amanda seyfried ) - future queen of ylisse. the dreamer who still seems to be figuring out exactly who she is. she’s been hidden away from the world for so long she’s ready to discover it. happily ever always seemed guaranteed but when darkness and a curse linger over who will the ending ever some true ?

sorrel white ( park soo-young ( joy ) / seo yeji   ) - the fairest of them all. her beauty and kindness made her a target to someone who was meant to care for her. now in a new city is she finally free from the wicked queen ?                               

                         next gen

william ‘ liam ’ charmont ( brenton thwaites ) - the oldest son of philip & aurora charmont.

seviathan ‘ seth ’ charmont ( jacob elordi ) - the middle child of philip & aurora charmont. older twin to rose. 

rosalie charmont ( emily alyn lind ) - the youngest child of philip & aurora charmont. younger twin to seth.

arthur charmont ( josha stradowski ) - the oldest child of kit charmont. father to isolde charmont. older twin to vivienne.

vivienne ‘ viv ’ charmont ( florence pugh ) - the youngest child of kit charmont. younger twin to arthur.

cosima charmont ( adeline rudolph ) - the oldest child of florian & sorrel charmont. 

basil charmont ( huening kai ) - the youngest child of florian & sorrel charmont. 

[dawnwakes-blog]

lance tags

[hanadoesstuffbadly]

Daughter of Giants

"You should move along, Giant, we don't want your sort around here." The bartender's voice was low and authoritative, the voice of a man not easily ignored, but one didn't need the ears of a bat to make out the tremors coursing through it. Everything about him was a well made manor with good foundations, but Aravis could tell it was built on sand. Give him a little shake and everything would start slipping.

Aravis smirked and tapped her fingers idly against the bar's puckered wooden surface. A part of her cursed  how ineffective her disguise had been proving recently, even after she's taken to covering her folc markings. The last thing she needed now was to have word of a nomadic folcwoman travelling the Engle Lands like a sad silk trader. Her tankard's rim just brushed her lips as she held it there and she concentrated on the fact that the man had not moved along, still standing just out of sight behind her mustard coloured hood. If he just needed a shake, why was she feeling inclined to rattle him until the very bricks of his character were dust to be scraped off of her heel. Maybe she was too tired for this today, too done with walkers and their sloppy, indelicate ineptitude. But at the same time, her ichor was roaring through her veins, violet and rushing. It made her lungs burn like magma beneath the island's crust. Her titanic heart yearned for a fight. It had been too long.

"My sort?" Silk dropped into her tone inadvertently, turning her deep, hoarse, broken voice into an almost mechanical purr. Fear rippled through the room like ribbons. It was a cool breeze in a suffocating glare of self-importance and Aravis breathed it in.

"You're a bounty-hunter!" Not the bartender, but a nasal, underdeveloped voice called from the crowd of patrons that had interrupted their own meals to gawk like a gaggle around what had been a peaceful evening drink. Aravis didn't bother seeking out the speaker (though she suspected one of the pasty, mealy shepherds seated closer to the entrance. An easy escape, she mused, smart choice.) Her brow, however, creased at his choice of words. Bounty hunters were perhaps the lowest of the low creatures grovelling on the earth's filthy surface. Turning in fellows of your kind for the reward of others? Had they no sense of honour or kinship at all. Had a folcman or woman acted in such a way, they would be plunged beneath the clouds to the endless oceans below and ripped to shreds by the wild, Bacchic merpeople of the depths. Honour, trust, loyalty; mere dramatic concepts to be learned and forgotten by those thugs like poor poetry.

"Now what would give you that idea?" Likely her stature or lack of ladylike grace. Maybe-

"The ends of your hair. They're white." The thought died before it even took shape in her mind. A chill crawled up around her shoulders, turning the thick muscle there into cold stone. She was frozen in place, barely able to open her mouth to reply through gritted teeth, her head bowed lower toward the counter and her tankard rested against her suddenly ringing forehead.

"Why," she ground out, "would that," turning slowly like a tin doll, her eyes flashed, "mark me out?" Moonlight flashed against a bronze knife behind the bar and it set the room aflame. The man- boy really- stood and quaked like a tethered kite before the entrance like it was a headwind. He had a round, dark, unfinished face; the face of a scholar or bard, not a warrior. Nevertheless, Aravis wanted nothing more than to turn it blue with bruises.

"I've heard stories," He shuddered and searched any face but hers for help "my father's a pepper merchant, he told me about you and your kind." The idea of some miserable, slimy, slithering underwalker's tongue speaking of her ‘kind’ made Aravis' fists curl. "Your hair is dark and- and blue, right?" He was slipping, but didn't run. Yet. "He used to say, when- when what was inside your head became darker, your hair literally started paling in comparison... Making the tips turn white... And- I-I thought..."

"Tom Tom, that's enough." Hissed the bartender.

Aravis was very still. Whispers are meant to be lost in the chaos. Aravis’ words were like breaths, yet each one rang in the floorboards and out of the door like the echoes of screams.

"Your father is well-learned. Darkness seeping into every crevice of the mind, turning you into a miasma veiled in flesh? What better fits that description than a callous, underhanded criminal? What could be so dark, so evil, as to turn the tips of my hair so pale?"

With one hand she tore the hood from her head. And not a breath was drawn as their pathetic faces took in the blank, dull cascades, the colour of new snow. Cold and dead. White to the roots.

She closed her eyes when the whispers started seeping into their fear, and as always, before her there stretched a great gash in the clouds on which she, still an adolescent wrapped in sunlight, stood. Beneath that crevice she saw the island of the underwalkers. But she wasn't looking at them. Instead, all that filled her vision was the great, massive warrior lying like unwanted venison beside the hulking, grotesque, monstrous corpse of a Beanstalk. And the underwalkers were dancing. At their head, leading them on there stood a creature of pale flesh and golden hair. To others he might have looked like a child, beautiful and beaming. Aravis knew what he really was. The axe was still in his hands. That smiling, glittering face was the last thing she saw before the vision cleared and Aravis opened her eyes to the bar counter. 

Shards of metal and broken wood lay before her. Her hand was bloodied by purple ichor. Still lodged within the cut were some remains of the crushed tankard. But it was her eyes that were burning with pain.

The whispers had ceased. And so had the roar in her veins. She was ice.

Standing, she swept her cloak aside to rest both hands on her hips, her feet apart. She was taller now than she had been when she entered, and now the crest of her ringed headband just skimmed the ceiling. Everybody in the room cowered below her. It felt right.

"Indeed. I am a hunter. But what I'm after is not the reward of a slippery, stupid nobleman. It is justice. And it is mine alone." the low rasp of her voice grew full and round as pride swelled within, "as a daughter of the mighty Laestrygonians."

At the name of her folc, new horror trickled into slow running red blood all around her. So many eyes darted to the door, for escape. Many more became fixed on her lips or, more specifically, on the teeth that lay behind them. Aravis didn’t need to be a mind mage to know they were wondering how much mortal flesh had been shredded upon them. That stout bartender was the first to finish quivering.

"Who do you seek, great Giantess? I will tell you all that I know, just don't hurt any of my customers, I beg of you!" Ugh. Begging. Typical underwalkers.

"I'm hunt Prince Jack of Gaul. As I have for almost ten years." Voice rising such that everyone might hear, she let fear carry her words. "He has taken something very precious from me, many things in fact, and I intend to exact justice."

“But, he’s been missing over three years! Many young princes have been.” Aravis was well aware of that. So close. She had been so close she could see the ridiculous peak of his hair, illuminated under dragon fire. But the presence of one of the more powerful fae had forced to keep her distance. But she had him cornered. It was almost over. And then he was gone.

“Haven’t you heard? They’re back, now.” Every head turned back to the scholarly boy by the entrance. “Yeah, the entire Fearless-”

But Aravis was deaf to the world.

They’re back now. He’s back now. He’s back. Again, and again, and again. The sound of clouds being split down the middle and the shining eyes of the blonde, beautiful murderer. And dancing. Aravis’ eyes were filled with axes, ichor and dancing.

Her bident spear was in her hand one moment and whistling across the room the next. The boy- Tom Tom he’d been called- was pinned between its prongs like a fish, flailing and panicked. He grasped at the twin spikes which were twice as thick as his arm. As Aravis strode over, he just resisted going limp.

With her feelings crashing and shrieking in her head, Aravis paid no attention to the fact that the ceiling had splintered around it. She didn’t notice the splinters to timber that clawed at her waist, nor the frigid night air whipping her face as she waded through the bar like mud. People the size of dolls scurried for the exit, while the one she wanted remained pinned. Until she knelt down and gripped the long handle of her weapon, pushing it closer into his throat.

“Where?” Was all she managed. Everything inside was a storm that even she herself was becoming lost in.

“I- I don’t know! I was told by a friend!”

“WHERE?!” Her bellow ricocheted off the dark sky itself like thunder and the bident spear-head pressed harder against his trachea until he gasped for air.

“STONEBURY!” Violent sobs wracked his body but Aravis did not relent, “GLASS STONEBURY! MY FRIEND HORNER IS IN GLASS STONEBURY! HE CAN TELL YOU!”

Only then, with a grunt of dark satisfaction did she pull the spear from the wall, releasing him. With the first real, tangible feeling she had felt in years melting into her veins, she shrank back down until she was practically the same stature she had been when she had arrived. The bar’s roof was gone, allowing freezing wind to howl through. She cared not.

Aravis finished a drink that had been abandoned on a table in the panic. It was revolting, crude stuff, typical for underwalkers. But a smile was curled on her face regardless.

"What will you do once you find the prince? He's a hero, and has many powerful friends!" So the bartender had stayed, she hadn’t counted on that. She graciously turned to look at him, feeling lighter than she had in almost four years.

"Simple. I will rend his arms from his sides. I will cast his broken body across the air until each and every bone is ground into dust."

"They'll see you coming, people have already run to tell others of you."

"You speak as if I’d intended this to be a slaughter. You are wrong.” Aravis’ hood fell to the floor and her hand reached into her satchel. She sighed softly when her fingers met the gentle, rippling fabric of her cloak. Her mother’s cloak. “It’s an execution.” she pulled it free, letting it grow in size until it could wrap around her completely. Her legs and torso disappeared from sight. “And I must have him know his sentence.”

Turning, she vanished behind the concealment of the cloak and into the darkness of the night. The Engle Lands were solitary, located deep in the marshes of Fairytale Island. 

It wasn’t far to Glass Stonebury. And then all that was left was to find this Horner.

Just an intro that I couldn't get out of my head since creating Aravis (her name was Astrid originally). I kinda want to write a whole fic about this but I'm not sure since it would be pretty much all my ocs... I'm imagining basically zootopia but with a Giant princess and a bounty hunter.

Also ive already started about two big projects with no third chapter soooo.....

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

His Blood Runs Gold VII

Percy is a god: Part VII

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

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Golden child,

Lion boy;

Tell me what it’s like to conquer.

Fearless child,

Broken boy;

Tell me what it’s like to burn.

-oh darling, even rome fell // p.s. (via madzie-bane)

(Tumblr: @loudthoughtswrittenwords)

“I didn’t want to be a God!” Jason bellowed. The stone columns of Olympus cracked.

“It was the only way I could save you.” A voice as soft as darkness answered.

“How could you do this to me?” Anger laced every word

“I cannot lose you Jason.”

“I don’t care. I never asked you to save me.”

“I could not– would not let you die.”

“This is not about you Percy.”

“It never is.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you–“ His voice broke, “I want you to live. I want you to experience everything the world has to offer. I want you–“ He was a hurricane of emotion, “I want you with me.”

“That,” Jason laughed, cold and dead, “Is the most selfish thing I have ever heard.”

“You’re calling me selfish for wanting to save my friend? What about you?” The ground shook, fractured, crumbled.

“What about me?”

“I am selfish for wanting to save you, but you are selfish for not wanting to live.”

“It is not your life. You have no right to make that decision.” Thunder was a dark rumbling noise around them. “You have no idea what it’s like, what it’s been like for me.”

“I DO!”

The world exploded.

Marble floors and stone columns crashed to the earth. Screams, screeching and panicked, were a symphony in their ears. Lightning and tsunamis clashed in a look.

“I was there, fighting the other side to your war. I was there going on quests and dealing with prophecies. I was there leading people into battle and carrying bodies out. I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE.”

“Then you would know that there is no chance of living. There is no point.”

“There is always–“ A strangled gasp cut him off.

Percy looked down and wondered with dazed interest why there was an arrow sticking out of his chest. It was such a pretty arrow. White as snow, swirling patterns snaking around the shaft, and there on the arrowhead, a smudge of gold.

He reached out to touch it and giggled as his fingers came away wet.

Silly Percy, the arrow is not gold, that’s just his blood.

He looked up to show Jason and frowned when he saw those golden cheeks go pale as bone.

A broken sound ruptured from his friend’s throat.

“Look there’s an arrow in me.”

And then Percy Jackson sunk to his knees, fell to the fissured floor. He did not move again.

It had always seemed kind of funny how we come into the world and go out of it the same way. How we cry on an exhale and die on one too. It is a wonder why we never do anything on an inhale. Maybe because half of life is about letting go. About release. And wasn’t that what dying was?

The God of Protection and Guidance stared down at his body, watching a blonde-haired boy cradle it like delicate china. He deigned to laugh at the irony of his situation. Protection and Guidance, for all except him.

He knew he wasn’t dead because gods never really died. But did they have souls? Or was this a result of his genes, still coded with his mother’s human DNA? A tether that kept him in the mortal world. He looked around, catching his reflection in a small pool on the far side of the room. A smiled stretched his lips as he took in his appearance. A golden aura veiled his naked body, basking him in godly light.

With a dismissive glance he turned from the pool and floated towards the boy crying over his tattered clothes. The blonde looked so familiar; they must have known each other extremely well for him to look so distraught. Percy thought about trying to tell him that he wasn’t actually dead, just in limbo but he didn’t know this person. It would be an awkward conversation to have with a stranger.

A gut-wrenching sob interrupted his musings. The stranger was bowed over, tears fresh and hot spilling down golden cheeks and onto his body. His heart clenched briefly as he watched the boy break, unable to help, to comfort.

“CUPID!” He screamed, lightning flashing in those blue eyes. “Where are you?”

A shimmer of light and then a being materialized above them.

“So we meet again Son of Jupiter.”

“Where are you?” The boy screamed again.

Percy realized the god hadn’t revealed himself yet, keeping his body hidden between the folds of the universe.

“Do you remember what I said when you asked me that question four years ago Child of Greece?”

A demigod then, Percy decided moving forward to peer at the boy more closely.

“FIX THIS!” The half-blood roared, ignoring the God’s question.

“Where you least expect it, as love always is,” Eros continued.

“Why are you telling me this?” The blonde cracked, voice small, broken.

“Because Jason Grace, you are terrified of what that means. Your friend Nico di Angelo figured it out. He understood and he embraced it, but you continue to deny yourself because you are scared.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Piper broke up with me, I loved her.”

“That is not what I mean.”

“What do you want me to say?” He whispered, “Please just fix him, heal him.”

“The only way is to admit what you have been afraid to for so long.” The God of Love said softly, turning his head in Percy’s direction.

Percy gave him a smile, wicked and intrigued. The God was beautiful, the way only love can be. In another life Percy may have asked for a moment to learn who Eros was. In another life he may have learnt just what Cupid could do.

“I love him okay! I love him!” The crumbling room shook with the force of Jason’s confession.

The Son of Jupiter gripped Percy’s body, mumbling over and over, “I love him, why do I love him?”

The Arrow that had found its mark in a heart of gold, turned to rose petals and floated towards the god still hovering above the world.

“Are you happy, you sick son of a bitch?” He glared at Cupid.

“Are you?” Glinting eyes stared at the broken scene.

Eros turned to Percy, mischief flashing across his features, “Until we meet again Son of Poseidon,”

He smirked in return. With a nod the god was gone.

Before he had time to blink, he was being hurtled across space, hurtled across memories, and time. He was hurtling right to the cracking marble floor.

Percy Jackson gasped, eyes flying open. He touched a finger to his chest and suppressed a giggle when a single rose petal floated to the floor.

“You’re alive,” The boy holding him rasped.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well you got stabbed through the heart with a god’s weapon, I was worried it’d kill you despite your divine status.”

“Well thanks for worrying but I think I’m good.” He looked around, frowning at the broken columns and ruptured floor, “What happened here?”

“You don’t remember?” The blonde squinted, confusion flitting across his face.

“No, should I?”

“We fought because you made Zeus turn me into a God and our power destroyed everything,”

“Wow,” He mumbled, “We must really have gone at it.”

“Hey, do you know your name?”

He gave the god still holding him a weird look, “Of course I know my name. I’m Perseus Jackson, God of Protection and Guidance.”

“Who are your parents?”

“Lord Poseidon and Sally Jackson.”

“And-“ The blonde swallowed, “And do you know who I am?”

Percy frowned, looking at him properly for the first time since waking in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea.”

The boy with storms in his eyes burst into tears.

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[lindormur]

golden  child  ,  lion  boy  .  tell  me  what  it  is  like  to  conquer  .

fearless  child  ,  broken  boy  .  tell  me  what  is  is  like  to  burn  .

norse  myth  based  oc  dual  muse  .  penned  by  ave  .

[philipcharmont]

philip charmont + tv tropes