#and percy got a scar from the ordeal

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

“betrayal” is a really strong word when Luke just asks Percy to go with him.

“hey come with me to make our lives better.”

Even the lashing out over Hermes is just them fighting and Luke knocking Percy to the ground. Neither of them is even actually hurt in their little scuffle.

[not4simp]

3rd Times The Charm

Paring: Jason Grace x reader Highschool Au! Summary: Confess? Not a success!

You're in your senior and to your luck you had classes with none of your friends.

One day after class a blonde dude came up to you, from the small scar on his lips you recognized him as one of Annabeth's and Percy's friend as they would frequently post him on insta. He asked you if he could see your notes cause he accidentally fell asleep and you guys had a test for it the next week.

Being the kind hearted person you are you gave it to him without a second thought.

From then on sharing notes with each other became a habit of you two and it evolved to studying in the library after school.

Whenever you guys were discussing his eyes would be on you. All his attention? On you. It made you nervous the first time but over time you got used to it.

Jason Grace was known for being a gentlemen and they did not lie. He always opened the door for you, you can't even remember the last time you open one when he was around.

Anyone would've fallen for him if they were treated this way and so you developed feelings for him

It's a good thing that you guys had mutual friends. Percy was delighted to know that you guys were familiar of each other.

You, Jason, Percy, and Annabeth would hang out any chance you got.

One day you were eating lunch with them when Jason got up to grab some napkins leaving you with the lovebirds

"So when are you gonna tell him" Annabeth nudged you

"Tell who what?" You replied confusion evident in your voice while your gaze still focused on your food

"Jason that you like him duhh" Percy continued in a teasing tone

...

You immediately looked at them to see if they were joking but with the smirks painted on their face it was clear that you were busted

Before you could reply Jason had returned

After you were caught by Annabeth and Percy there was no escaping it. They pestered you like mosquitos always nagging you to fess up!

After a full week of them tormenting you, you dreadfully agreed.

But every time to you tried someone was always interrupting.

Attempt 1: Class hadn't begun and students were still roaming around the hall so you decided this moment was the time. Earlier in the morning you even gave yourself a pep-talk to yourself in the mirror. You walked over to Jason as he was grabbing books from his locker. You greeted him as usual, "I have to tell you some-" Your words were cut off as Drew decided to join in the conversation. It was clear she was here for Jason cause every time you tried to get in a word she talked over you.

Attempt 2: You guys were currently having chemistry and you paired up for today's experiment. So you thought hey what better way to confess your feelings with a cheesy chemistry pick up line?! at least if he didn't reciprocate your feelings you could play it off as a joke. Here goes nothing. "Hey Jason" you called out. He looked at you waiting for you to continue. You pulled out your best charming face "Do you have 11 protons? cause you're sodium fin-" Before you could finish your sentence a classmate of yours had somehow accidently blew up a Bunsen burner causing the lab to catch on fire. Ugh so close!

Attempt 3: Okay you thought this was the last of your attempt and if it goes south you were just gonna give up this whole confessing ordeal.

It was after school and you and Jason were currently in the halls.

Here goes nothing, "I feel strange whenever you're around"

He stared at you for a moment and you can feel yourself turning into a tomato

ohmygoshohmygosh you instantly regret saying that perhaps you should've worded it better, welp no turning back now.

"Do you have a fever or something" he finally replied a worried expression on his face. Jason put his hand on your forehead. Considering your hot red face you decided to just go with it.

"Yeah I think so" he told you to go to the infirmary but you declined. He wasn't taking no for an answer so he grabbed your arm and dragged you.

Somewhere in the distance Percy saw your red face and Jason dragging you away so he thought that you managed to profess your love to him.

As you were inside the infirmary Jason was out in the hallway grabbing you a drink from the water dispenser.

Suddenly someone slapped him on the back and was congratulating him. He turned around to see Percy.

Percy was going on about he can't believe y/n actually did it, Jason's confusion was unbeknownst to him and he kept on rambling.

"y/n's been crushing on you for ages took you guys long enough to do something about it"

"y/n likes me?"

Percy: ☝️😦🧍🏃

Jason just kinda stood there dazed

Until you came out of the infirmary "Good news the nurse said it was nothing serious" cause it wasn't you were just a blushing hot mess

He gave you the water and just blurted out "you like me?'

Obviously you were caught of guard and you were like "ahahah where did that come from?"

"Percy said so"

silence absolute silence

then you ran

Was it a coward move? Yes Did you care? No

He chased after you

See the thing is he's on the football team so no matter how hard you tried you couldn't outrun him

So he finally caught up to you and held you firmly by the shoulders "Y/n" reluctantly you looked up at him "do you like me?"

Oh how you were gonna roundhouse kick Percy when you see him

You nod muttering a small "yeah I like you"

You expected a sorry i don't feel the same but instead he laughed

"Gee it's fine if you don't reciprocate my feelings but no need to rub it in my face" you sighed

" No, no, no " Jason waved his hands defensively, "I'm just glad because I like you too"

You smiled like a fool. A fool in love!

You guys lean closer to each other, faces just inches a part

Every second you guys leaned closer, closer and-

"WOHOO Now y/n actually did it!" Percy yelled out from behind us

Moment: Ruined

A/n: man I love Jason

[justaninchident-f1xreader]

max verstappen x reader part9

(incase you missed part8- https://www.tumblr.com/justaninchident-f1xreader/740597178369802240/max-verstappen-x-reader-part7?source=share)

themes-

ferrari female driver jealousy enemies to lovers possible spice (i will put the warning accordingly)

warnings- mentions of past abusive relationships

chapter 9- i'll be your anchor in the storm

It has been a few days since the saucy and spicy social media exchanges. All the drivers decided to go for a casual night out. The Monaco night thrummed with the usual post-race buzz, a symphony of tinkling glasses and boisterous laughter. Yet, amidst the revelry, Y/N's silence resonated like a discordant note. Her fiery eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were veiled by a layer of worry, her smile strained at the edges. She fidgeted with her phone, her gaze darting around the room like a cornered animal.

Max, ever the observant predator, caught the tension radiating from her. He approached her, a wary concern creasing his brow. "What's with the ghost act, L/N?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, devoid of its usual playful bite.

Y/N flinched, startled, as if his presence had snapped her out of a trance. "Nothing," she mumbled, shoving her phone into her purse, but the tremor in her hands betrayed her words.

Max wasn't convinced. He knew her well enough to recognize the telltale signs – the nervous chewing of her lip, the way her fingers danced anxiously on the clasp of her purse. He pulled out a chair next to her, his gaze unyielding. "Spill it," he commanded, his voice laced with gentle authority.

Y/N hesitated, her silence stretching like a taut chord. Then, with a deep breath, she began to speak, her voice cracking with repressed emotion. "He's back," she whispered, her eyes darting towards the doorway, as if fearing a phantom presence.

Max felt a cold knot tighten in his gut. "Who?" he asked, his voice hardening.

"My ex," Y/N whispered, her gaze finally meeting his. "He…" she choked on a sob, the memory of past trauma raw in her eyes. "He got out."

Max's jaw clenched. The details of Y/N's past were whispers in the paddock, rumors of a violent relationship, scars hidden beneath her fiery spirit. He had never dared to pry, respecting her private battleground. But seeing her fear unfold before him, raw and visceral, ignited a protective fire within him.

He pulled her chair closer, offering a silent sanctuary. Y/N leaned into him, seeking solace in his quiet strength. In a halting voice, she recounted the ordeal – the chilling phone call, the constant dread, the fear that had crawled back into her life like a venomous snake.

"He.. he used to hit me, use me and leave me like i was a worthless doll. He criticized every feature that i had and made me feel bad for existing. When I started to do better in karting and racing, he hated me for it," Y/N took a breath and continued, "One night, when my friend Percy gave me a new book, he got jealous and he tried to...he tried to force himself onto me and I lost it. I smashed his head with the nearby lamp and called 911. He went to jail but he's getting out now. And I know he's out to get me"

Max listened, his usual stoicism cracking as he witnessed her vulnerability. He clenched his fists, a storm brewing beneath his calm exterior. The man who had hurt her, who had dared to dim her fire, would feel the full force of his fury.

When Y/N finished, her voice a trembling thread, she buried her face in her hands, tears soaking through her fingers. Max hesitated, then reached out, his calloused thumb gently wiping away a stray tear. He didn't offer platitudes or false promises. He simply held her gaze, his eyes pools of quiet strength, an unspoken vow etched within them.

"He won't touch you again," Max said, his voice deep and unwavering. "I won't let him."

The words were simple, yet they held the weight of a promise, a declaration of his unexpected but fierce protectiveness. Y/N's tear-filled eyes searched his face, finding validation, comfort, and something more – a spark of something she hadn't dared to acknowledge in the heat of their rivalry.

The night club dimmed around them, the music fading into a distant hum. The other drivers, sensing the charged atmosphere, retreated, leaving them alone in a bubble of shared vulnerability. In that intimate silence, a connection crackled between them, more potent than any post-race adrenaline rush.

Y/N reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and traced the outline of Max's jaw, the callouses beneath her fingertips a tangible proof of his strength. His gaze met hers, unflinching, reflecting the storm brewing within him and the tenderness reserved for her alone.

The lines had blurred. Rival, teammate, protector – Max Verstappen was now something more, a shield against the shadows of her past. And as their eyes locked, the unspoken tension between them, fueled by jealousy, competition, and now, a dawning protectiveness, threatened to ignite into something far more combustible than the champagne bubbling in their abandoned flutes.

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

The spark crackling between Max and Y/N ignited into a searing flame as their lips drew closer. The tension in the air, thick with unspoken emotions, finally found its release in their shared breath, a promise whispered on the cusp of a kiss.

But just as their lips met, a chilling voice shattered the fragile moment. "Y/N!"

A figure emerged from the shadows, his face contorted with fury. It was Ethan, Y/N's ex, the embodiment of her past trauma, a nightmare made flesh. He held a metal rod in his hand, its glint reflecting the cold anger in his eyes.

Max's hand shot out, clamping onto Y/N's arm, pulling her back like a shield. Her eyes, wide with fear, met his, a silent plea for protection flashing within them. His own gaze, now glacial, locked onto Ethan's, a silent challenge issued across the dimly lit room.

The tension crackled, thicker than the smoke curling from abandoned cigars. Ethan, fueled by a twisted possessiveness, took a menacing step forward, the rod held aloft like a twisted trophy. "You think you can steal her from me, Verstappen?" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

Max, ever the strategist, remained calm, his voice a low growl. "She's made her choice, Ethan. And it's not you."

The air crackled with the promise of violence. The other drivers, sensing the imminent storm, edged closer, forming a silent barrier between the two men. Lando placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder, his own anger simmering beneath his calm facade.

Y/N, however, refused to be a damsel in distress. She straightened her spine, her voice ringing with defiance. "I'm not yours to steal, Ethan. I'm my own person, and I choose who I want to be with."

Her words hung in the air, a declaration of independence that pierced through the suffocating atmosphere. Ethan, his facade of control crumbling, lunged forward, the rod aimed at Y/N.

But Max, faster than a lightning strike, reacted with lightning speed. He shoved Y/N behind him, taking the brunt of the blow on his arm. A sharp cry of pain escaped him, but his eyes remained fixed on Ethan, a predator protecting his prey.

The room erupted in chaos. Lando tackled Ethan, wrestling the rod from his grasp. The other drivers, spurred by a shared sense of protectiveness, formed a human wall around Y/N, shielding her from further harm.

Max, his arm throbbing with pain, held his ground, his gaze never leaving Ethan. The storm within him, fueled by jealousy, protectiveness, and now, a surge of adrenaline, threatened to break free.

But before he could unleash his fury, the security guards arrived, alerted by the commotion. They swarmed Ethan, disarming him and dragging him away, his screams of rage echoing through the nightclub.

Y/N, still shaken but unharmed, rushed to Max, her eyes filled with concern. She cradled his injured arm, her touch a balm on his pain. "Max," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He looked at her, the storm within him subsiding, replaced by a quiet tenderness. "It's okay," he rasped, his voice strained but reassuring. "He's gone. You're safe."

In that moment, amidst the chaos and the aftermath, a new understanding bloomed between them. It wasn't just about rivalry or competition anymore. It was about a bond forged in the crucible of fear, a silent promise of protection, and a connection that went beyond the surface.

The Monaco night, once a celebration of victory, had become a battleground for a different kind of victory. The race for Y/N's heart had taken a dangerous turn, and Max Verstappen, the unexpected hero, had stepped into the ring, claiming his place as her protector. But the battle was far from over. The shadows of Ethan's threat still loomed, and the race for Y/N's heart had just become a race against time, a gamble fueled by fire and the promise of a love forged in the face of danger.

writer's note- guys this was a bit different, i did want to add more emotional aspects to the story and i really worked hard writing this one. tell me what you think. WE LOVE LANDO IN THIS ONE.

[tagthescullion]

Fandom(s): Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: T Summary: Luke's quest companion is dead. He's alone, defeated, and not too far from Los Angeles, where Thalia's estranged mother lives. Angry and hurt by Beryl's indifference towards her late daughter's fate, Luke might take justice into his own hands.

Based on this post by iamaweirdbeing!

Chapter 1: Rumors

Luke wiped his hands on his jeans, as best as he could. He doubted they’d look any better, his clothes were filthy. He tried to ignore the red stain on his shirt, but he felt hot tears form in his eyes anyway.

Derek’s death was on him, on him alone. It was Luke who had begged and insisted on going on a quest. It was Luke who had annoyed Chiron until he’d found him an errand to run. And it was Luke who had picked his companion. 

The bitterness he’d felt on the week they’d been out of Camp weighed on his conscience. Luke had left Half-Blood Hill throwing a yearning look at the tree that had once been the person closest to him. How he’d wished it was Thalia next to him, not brutish Derek, son of Ares.

But not unlike Luke himself, Derek had been rather desperate for a quest, and since he was –had been– quite the proficient fighter, Luke had seen no reason why not to pick him. They’d got along well enough, even if they hadn’t been particularly close friends.

Chiron had insisted on a third companion. ‘It’s bad luck going on pairs,’ he’d counselled. ‘Three is a lucky number in our world.’

Luke hadn’t listened. The only third companion he would trust enough was Annabeth, but he’d be damned if he’d let the 10-year-old girl risk her life unnecessarily. Besides, he’d been around with Thalia for years, only the two of them, Chiron was full of shit.

Except that he hadn’t been. Luke wasn’t sure he was ready to call it luck. They’d made mistakes, both of them. Luck had little to do with anything.

He found Derek’s necklace in his pocket. Luke had three summers, going on four. Derek had only been at Camp two years. 

He blinked the tears out of his eyes. He had to keep going. Being out and about was dangerous, specially since he was alone now. He’d have time to mourn Derek back at Camp.

He caught his reflection in a shop window. He looked awful, and his features made him look suspicious. Any mortal would think he was about to pickpocket them, and since that was exactly what Luke needed to do, it wouldn’t do to look the part.

His eyes focused on the red, angry scar running from his eye to his jaw. It didn’t hurt anymore, after all the ambrosia he’d eaten, but it still looked fresh. Luke wasn’t the vain type, he was aware that he was handsome, but it wasn’t something he took pride in. The scar, however, made him feel self-conscious. It made him look older and angrier, although perhaps it was only the way he felt after the whole ordeal.

He walked down the road, away from the San Francisco Bay. The neighbourhood became more residential, but eventually, Luke found a gas station. 

The dirty bathroom was a safe haven. The heat didn’t scorch his neck, and washing in the little sink made him feel much, much better. 

There was nothing to be done for his shirt so he changed into the extra one he’d packed –which was, admittedly, not very clean either, after having been used for a few days already–, and threw the stained cloth in the trash.

It felt therapeutic.

Once he was presentable, or as good as he’d get, he left the washroom. 

His stomach groaned loudly. Luke still had a few dollars somewhere, he was sure. 

He walked up the counter, trying to find some snack that cost less than $2.75, as he rummaged through his bag for extra change.

The woman at the till gave him a worried look. Luke thought for a second she’d realized he was carrying a sword, and cursed the Mist for failing him so randomly, but then he saw her eyes trace his scar. He turned his face away from her, pretending to be absorbed by a newsstand that had a bunch of magazines and papers. One actually caught Luke’s eye.

‘Beryl Grace’s new sweetheart, when will enough be enough?’ It read in big white letters over a photo of a blonde woman holding onto an older, bald man’s arm.

Luke bought a Sneakers bar and a soda, and slipped the magazine into his bag as the cashier was looking the other way.

He didn’t sit down to eat. Instead, he left the gas station and found a park not too far to rest.

The grass was cool under the shadow of a tree, and the tree’s roots made a relatively comfortable sitting spot. 

Luke devoured the candy bar so fast he barely tasted it. Washed down with some Coke, his stomach felt a little bit more at ease. 

He pulled out the magazine, flipping pages until he found the article on Beryl Grace. 

Apparently, she’d had a string of unlikely affairs in the past couple of years: a young entrepreneur, a plastic surgeon, a rising actor… She’d been caught with this new paramour, a vintage car collector, while the actor boyfriend was off filming in Europe.

Luke scoffed. Having her heart broken by the King of the Olympus hadn’t made Beryl Grace any wiser. If anything, she seemed to be trying to best her daughter’s father in the Most Affairs in a Year category.

Thalia used to say her mother had no heart.

‘If you don’t have a heart, how can it be broken?’ She’d said once they’d been speaking about their parents. 

She’d also mentioned her mother hadn’t cared when she’d left. Beryl hadn’t reported her missing child to the police, Thalia’s old babysitter had. Whatever excuse Beryl had used to put off the cops seemed to have worked, because they stopped looking after a short while.

On the run, Thalia and Luke had seen a few articles about Beryl. It was inevitable, she’d been a big face on tv, with her gossip programmes, and always fucking shit up. 

Thalia pretended not to care, but Luke knew she was lying. Against all reason, Thalia felt bad about her mother’s horrible life choices, and still wanted her to get well.

At the time, Luke had rolled his eyes at her disingenuously clinging to the idea that her mother could ever care. He’d been truly convinced that he held no regard for either of his parents. None whatsoever.

As he grew up, he’d realized that wasn’t strictly true. After being out of constant danger for a while, he’d stopped feeling sorry for himself and that had allowed the space in his mind to feel sorry for other people. Specifically, his mother. 

Luke winced as he thought about May Castellan’s pathetic, broken figure, forever alone waiting for a god who had abandoned her, and for a son she had never been able to raise.

He caught Beryl’s face on the magazine and sighed. Looking at her carefully, Luke could see the apathetic dull in her eyes.

Did Beryl know Thalia was dead? He doubted it. Chiron didn’t know who her mother had been, hell, he didn’t know her surname. The only people who could tell Beryl were Luke, Annabeth, or Zeus himself. 

The Lord of the Sky didn’t seem like the kind of guy who went back to his children’s parents, specially not to tell them delicate news. For a split of a second Luke was tempted to wait until Annabeth was older, so she’d accompany him to break the news to Miss Grace. But he immediately put the thought out of his mind. Annabeth was only a girl, she shouldn’t have such a weight on her shoulders. Besides, it was Luke who’d travelled with Thalia the longest, and who’d left her to delay the monsters on Half-Blood Hill all those years ago. It was his job to tell Beryl he’d failed to protect her daughter. 

It was a slight consolation that Beryl wouldn’t have any real basis to blame the whole ordeal on Luke. It had been her who had mistreated Thalia for years before the girl had had enough. Beryl had been violent, irresponsible, and rather dangerous at times, if Thalia’s memories were anything to go by. 

If Luke had failed Thalia in a moment’s decision, Beryl had failed her a whole childhood worth of time. 

The thought made him angry. While his own mother hadn’t provided a proper environment for a child to grow up in, Luke had to admit it was partially not her fault, whereas Beryl’s inability to parent Thalia had been her choice, and hers alone. 

Luke pondered on how to get to LA for a while. He could go back to Camp, explain the situation to Chiron and—

No. Chiron would try to convince Luke that it was too dangerous. He’d IM Beryl, it wasn’t enough. Luke wanted to see her face when she found out. To witness whether the woman still held a single thread of decency in her to feel pain for her lost child. 

He decided he’d go now. San Francisco wasn’t too far from LA. Or not far next to his return to the East Coast. A bus journey, that was all. 

The address wouldn’t be an issue, he doubted Beryl had moved in all the time Thalia had been gone. And Thalia had reluctantly shared the address once they’d been talking about the hypothetical case they were found by the police and returned to their respective homes, so they’d be able to find each other again.

There was one detail, though. Before trying to stowaway on a bus, Luke had to find a way to look and smell presentable. It wouldn’t do trying to convince the ticket seller that he was a passenger if he smelled like acrid teenage sweat and looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. 

There was little he could do about his fatigue, but a change of clothes would be easy to get in this fancy neighbourhood. 

Houses were detached, and their yards big enough that getting into one of them without being seen was ridiculously simple. Luke only had to wait until the sun started to set. 

[percydarling]

Fred Lives (But does he really?)

Chapter 2 : Shock

His family look at him, expecting a reply since he was seen last with Percy.

He can't say it. He can't.

So what comes out of his mouth is " I'm so sorry."

That's when their expressions change, when they realise what it means, what he's trying to convey to them.

His mum grabs him and shakes him, refusing to believe.

"NO,NO,NO,NO,NO,no,no,no,no"

She repeats it again and again, louder at first unless it slows down to mumbling as if she's trying to convince herself that it isn't true.

Dad almost falls down, but Bill catches him and Dad grips Bill so hard as if afraid that Bill would die too. Bill isn't any better, his face is pale as if he can't believe it either.

Fred can't even look at George and Ginny, he can't even meet his Mum's eyes as he bows down his head.

It's even worse when they see the body.

Mum notices first, it really isn't difficult to, the bright Weasley red hair sticks out among the browns and the blacks. Fred didn't even know that there were people carrying bodies. There shouldn't be so many bodies.

Mum lets out a bloodcurdling scream, that has everyone in the Hall shocked, as she races to Percy. Harry jumps startled and even Fred loses his footing and almost falls but George catches him.

Mum's scream was so deafening, there was a silence in the Hall as everyone stood as still as a statue, and stared at her with pity. It sent chills down Fred's spine over how the scream was full of grief and shock. It scared him to hear mum like that.

Dad goes after his wife, attempting to comfort her but a mother's grief no bounds. Mum has lost her brothers to the First War and now a son to the Second. There is no comfort that Dad could ever offer.

Fred feels guilty, he's only thinking about Mum and not Dad. He has no clue as to what Dad's feeling at the moment. He doesn't think he ought to even ask.

Bill breathes heavily before following them, his eyes still in shock and head down. Fred thinks Bill might feel responsible for it ( eventhough Bill ought not to. He wasn't there) Being the eldest is a bane and a boon, and right now it's the former.

Bill holds Percy in his arms. Fred watches. Bill might have been there to hold Percy when he was born and now he's holding him when he's dead. Irony is a funny thing.

The younger four go together to his body, Ron and Ginny hold hands and George holds his. Fred doesn't know what he would do without George. Probably crash and burn to the ground.

Fred can't meet any of his family memebers' eyes. He can't. It's just too hard.

Hermione and Harry linger behind them as they sit around Percy. Harry was probably going to blame himself. Fred's really tired of everyone blaming themselves for something they couldn't control.

Percy's still dead. Fred thought he might wake up. Maybe some Weasley magic or something but he's still dead.

Fred was there, he saw it happen, he saw Percy die but even then he can't believe it. It's just impossible to think of a Weasley dying. Dad and Bill survived, why does Percy die?

"It's not fair", Ginny mutters as she runs her hand in Percy's curls.

Ginny shouldn't be here to see this. He knows she grew up. He knows she's strong and fierce and lovely. But he also knows that Ginny is young. Maybe not innocent, but she's young.

And the young don't deserve this. They don't deserve the fear and the loss. They deserve better.

Fred failed to deliver to Ginny. He failed to do better. She was never innocent, but now she's not young either.

He agrees with her, it's not fair. But a little part of him is glad that Percy died and not him. It wasn't like that it changed the family as much.

Percy wasn't around for the last 3 years. He wasn't there when Dad almost died or when Bill got the scars. He wasn't there.

Fred was. Not Percy.

Those thoughts make Fred feel horrible but he knows that deep down he and probably other family members know it's true.

George squeezes Fred's hand as he looks at his dead brother.

Mum is still clutching and has Percy's head on his lap as she caressed his face, which has no life. Dad holds Percy's hand, something he should have done when he was alive and not lying dead on the floor.

Bill holds Percy's other hand, rubbing it across him as if trying to make it alive again and give some of his life to him.

"WHERES MY FAMILY"

A holler echoes through the hall.

There's no mistaking the voice. Despite not hearing it in a while, he cannot misremember the voice.

It was Charlie.

Charlie doesn't know.

Fred doesn't know how to go through that ordeal again. He can't tell Charlie. He doesn't want to move from Percy's side either. He's paralyzed in this position.

Ron, his eyes tired and scars on his body. He looks at Percy as if he was a stranger. Fred knows Ron cares. Of course he bloody does. But there is no emotion, no tear, no anger. Ron just stares at Percy. It makes Fred question whether Ron, who wears his emotions on his sleeves, is sad or not.

Ron stands.

Ron (the bravest of them all) calls out to Charlie and then there's this big toothy grin on Charlie's face which... which would be wiped out very soon.

Every slow step Charlie takes, causes Fred to get anxious. He just wants it over and done with. Maybe it's an awful thing to want but he just wants this over with.

"Finally I found you lot, what-"

That's when he notices Percy.

"PERCY"

It's another scream, another grief that won't be healed as fast as we want it to.

Bill holds Charlie as he sobs. Two elder brothers crying for the younger one. They'll probably share the blame.

Charlie doesn't cry. Fred had never seen Charlie cry, even in the worst of situations. Charlie gets a pass because of the circumstances.

Seeing Charlie sob over Percy is even worse because Charlie wasn't present when Percy apologised, he didn't hear his brother's last words.

Charlie didn't even get a chance.

And it makes Fred heart break all the more.

------

Fred lives(bdhr?) - Part1

[joyfulsongbird]

broken not shattered

in the year following Vecna's defeat, Percy starts to notice that Cassandra is displaying the same attributes that he had in himself in his darkest time. Percy helps pull her through her anger and darkness, knowing what it is like, and makes sure she doesn't spiral the same way he did.

the cassandra-centric self indulgent fic i was born to write <3

ao3 link!! (content warnings listed in the notes)

***

You learn things, when you get to a place where your mind is no longer your own, let alone your body. You learn how to survive, when there is nothing you can do but save yourself.

You learn more than how to hold a blade, more important skills than how to dress yourself in armor, or tie your hair back by yourself because mother was still doing it for you when she died. Vesper always said it was ridiculous how much her little sister depended on their mother. “I was braiding my own hair before I even got to the double digits!” she’d say indignantly, but Cassandra never listened. She refused to learn. Being the youngest didn’t mean as much as many think. She was not doted upon as much as the twins were, she was the smallest, the least interesting, and being left in the dust made her starve for attention. No one could blame her, she was a child. A child who would not regret the minutes in the early morning when Lady de Rolo would braid her youngest daughter's hair into a neat plait. She did not regret the fuss she had made, not when it gave her just a few more minutes with her mother. So she taught herself how to braid her hair.

When she got older, maybe 15 or so, she was braiding her hair every morning. She’d spent two years with the Briarwoods, growing more and more numb every day. She had doomed one rebellion already, and she did not know that she would doom another yet. There was very little she could do that would make any sort of lasting impression, besides string herself up on the Sun Tree in the same place they had hung her family's corpses. Despite herself, she could not bring herself to. There was still a self preservative spirit inside her that she could not quell. The only rebellions she got at that time were silent, not even rebellions. Lady Delilah did not know that the way she wore her hair was in honor of her mother. Honoring her deceased family was strictly forbidden and Cassandra was quite sure the De Rolo name had not been uttered in the Briarwoods presence, maybe at all, in well over a year. She still did it. She wore the stockings gifted to her by her father even though they had been meant for 12 year old feet and had been darned and patched many times over. She wore her mothers braid; and when her fingers wound her hair tightly into the simple braid, she could feel the ghost of her mothers hands in their place.

She honored the De Rolos. Her mind was broken, her body did not belong to her anymore. But she honored them by existing. In the mirror she looked into the eyes of the dead. That’s the thing about big families, they all look at least a tad bit similar. You could look up at the portrait that used to sit in the grand hall. The dark hair, the strong jaw, the striking eyes, even the freckles. On some they showed more than others, but they were there. She remembered how in the summer, when they vacationed South where the sun was so much brighter and stronger, they’d come back sunburned and freckled. She’d laugh at Percy, who hated how his skin got so dotted and peeling from lying in the sun. Cassandra rarely wandered outside the castle walls, her freckles were non-existent. Still, she was comforted by the fact that if she did wander the gardens more often, her nose would soon look just like her grandmothers. She, too, was long gone and Cass barely remembered her, but in the few memories she had, her freckles stood out.

Cassandra learned to brave the cold. Even when it meant giving up her honorances. Lord and Lady Briarwood were not dumb, they were quite the opposite. There was a reason they had made it this far, a reason they had managed to convince so many that the murder of her family was just an awful tragedy. Her socks were burned. Her mind picked apart until she confessed to every thought she had of her family, every death wish to those who hurt them, every inkling of rebellion. She learned to brave the cold even when it meant forsaking the ones she loved. They were not here to see her betrayal, the guilt persisted anyways. Her mind did not belong to her. She was never alone. She forgot what her family looked like. How was it possible, some might ask, that she forgot what they looked like when she saw them every time she looked in the mirror? Maybe it was that she did not recognize herself, either.

She was 13 when the Briarwoods came. She was 14 when she was tortured until she told Anna Ripley everything about the first rebellion. 15 when her mind started to wane. 16 when she wasn’t sure how to breathe anymore. How do you breathe when there is no air to consume inside of the castle? On the outside, she was perfect. Perfect, lovely brown curls. Bright, alive, attentive eyes that shone like sapphires. She grew into a beautiful young lady. That’s what they all said. The little girl who had run through the halls and caused a riot grew into a lady who would fetch a fine husband someday.

The years passed slowly, the second rebellion came and passed. She didn’t even try to resist the questions when they came. They asked “where are they planning to meet?” She told them everything. “What is their plan?” She told them everything. She bore the scars from the last one, the white in her hair was proof enough, how could she even attempt to put herself through that ordeal again? She could not bring herself to pray, she didn’t even think to ask for any kind of holy assistance until late one night and pushed the idea away quickly. If a god wanted to help her, they would’ve already. It was too late for her, she had supposed long ago, no god could destroy her when there was nothing she felt was worth destroying.

She learned there was nothing she could do, but go along with the plans placed in front of her. She was their puppet. She was their little doll they played dress up with, they stole not just blood from but her soul itself. It was not a quick realization, that she was without hope or future. It came slowly, when she was maybe 17 it entered her mind, fully formed.

She was a Briarwood now.

The De Rolos were no more.

Years and years later, she will lie awake in the late hours of the night, wondering how much of that realization was mind control and how much of it was sheer, unadulterated mental exhaustion on her part. She was so tired. Tired of getting flashes of her brother's bloodied body every time she glanced at the doorway leading down to the dungeon. Tired of seeing her parents mangled corpses’ every time she met Dr. Ripley’s eye. Tired of sharp slaps when she let the wrong thing slip off her tongue. Tired, tired, tired. Better to leave it all behind. Better to let it fade away. She was a Briarwood. That was the reality.

She learned much, in those five years in that dark, bloody castle. How could she not? Every day was a lesson, every day was a test. Failing meant dying. She would not fail.

Maybe if Percy had come any later than not too long after that realization, she would have been too far gone to be saved. He came months later, but what were months when she had spent years in the dark? He had failed to pull her from the snow once, this time he dragged her from the cold and she was almost warm again.

It was strange to have been stuck in the dark recesses of the castle, something more than lonely, something more than lost, and then to suddenly be shoved into the light. Be faced with a brightness that hurt her eyes and left her feeling blinded and stumbling for something to grab hold of. But she was strong, and she was resilient, and she was her mothers daughter. She would not succumb to this darkness inside of her, this persistent voice that sounded like some odd mix of her own and the whispered, sultry tone of Delilah Briarwood. It crooned, it cried, it begged for a bone to be thrown its way. If she paid it no mind, it would slowly wither and die. She held her head high, lifted her chin even when she faced her captors, refused to cry when the nightmares came after years of silent nights. There was nothing she could do about the pain that continued to rack through her body now that she was coming to.

She was essentially a child leader. She saw the looks from other council members, the sideways glances of even her own citizens. She was barely grown. It showed in her face. She’d always had full cheeks, but as a child that was normal. Now, when she’d gotten older and lost her baby fat, she’d held the youth of her face. She looked like a child, felt like a child especially when she was surrounded by so many politicians with years of experience, but she refused to let her intimidation show. She was firm, strong in a way that brought others comfort. Whitestone was in her hands and her knees were shaking under its weight. But she had yet to crumple, even through all of her pain, and this weight would not break her. She gained respect every day that passed by and when Percy returned for good, she had grown from a step below a child queen to a ruler who knew how to hold her shoulders just so, how to shake a hand the correct way, how to smile while appearing confident but not overbearing. She learned many things, after the Briarwoods.

You learn things, when you are trapped and have been trapped for a long, long time. You learn or you break. Cassandra was lost, and lonely, and yes, quite a bit broken, but Pelor help her, she refused to shatter.

He surprised her with a hug, when he arrived. She had been resting in her room after the ordeal with Vecna and being… well, you know, killed . She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little shook but surprisingly, she was very calm. Her body was tired but her mind was alert. The only reason she was in bed at all was because her maid, Margie, had taken one look at Cassandra upon her return and said she looked like absolute hell and needed to be taken care of at once. Cass relented and let herself be bathed and fed and dressed in her night clothes despite the early hour. She sat upright in her bed, flipping absently through some book about the history of taxation in Tal’dorei which had been recommended to her by a council member. It was incredibly boring and her eyes only took in every other word or so. It was a welcome intrusion, then, when there was a knock on the door and she could gratefully dogear the page.

“Come in!” she called, grabbing her blankets in preparation to cover herself if need be. But when her brother cracked the door open, she let the blanket fall and stood immediately. She hovered there for a moment, halfway between sitting and standing, as she stared at her brother. He looked more shaken than her, dirt caked and bone tired. He looked wrecked and like he had just arrived back home moments ago.

Nobody spoke for a moment. Then he made several long strides (he was quite tall, with long gangly legs that she remembered Julius had teased him about) to meet her at the edge of her bed. He did not speak, barely met her eye before tugging her into a messy but not unwelcome hug. A little shocked, for Percival was not one to veer on the side of physical affection, it took her a moment to reciprocate. But when she finally came to her senses, she wrapped her arms around his neck, placed a comforting hand on the back of his neck and felt him shaking just a little under her palm.

It did not last long, even when he was in a particularly touchy feely mood, it didn’t seem like it stayed around for very long. He pulled back, looking at her with eyes that mirrored hers to the point where it was uncanny. How she’d forgotten how similar the De Rolo children were. Beautiful children, all lined up prim and proper. Each ball they went to, they were praised. The seven of them were the bright stars of Whitestone, though some were brighter than others. Now, just two remaining, she found herself looking into his eyes and seeing herself reflected back. Pained. Afraid. Lonely, but learning to love again.

“I…” he licked his lips. “I’m glad you’re alright, sister.”

She nodded. “And I you.”

He let go of her shoulders which he had been holding tightly. “I have to go to Vex. I’ll be back to discuss. Have a well needed talk. Maybe over tea. I swear.”

She smiled and voiced her assent. Of course, they would. Of course, they needed to catch up. Wonderful idea, Percival. Looking forward to it, Percival.

The next day came. She saw him over breakfast and she put on her practiced smile for her overwhelmed brother and a grieving Vex’ahlia. She was good at this; putting on a facade, knowing what people wanted to see and adjusting based on their reactions. It was easy. She had done it for years, shoved down her fears so that she wouldn’t be questioned, disguised her thoughts and covered her emotions in layers of small talk and politeness.

They did not have that discussion over tea that day. Nor the next. Nor the next week.

They talked, of course they talked. But it was always in surface level ways. She knew that he wanted to see deeper, to look at her and be able to understand her. But she didn’t even understand herself. Days, then weeks passed and she was spending more and more time absorbed by her work. This was what she had to do. Spent hours in her office, locked away until she barely saw the sun anymore. Give her a project, she got it done in a day. Give her something to do, she finished it in record time. For the first time, she was good at something that didn’t hurt anybody.

The bliss of finally being of use lasted maybe two months into the year after the defeat of Vecna. Percy and Vex were busy as usual, but now more than ever because of the baby. Their child wasn’t due for many months but the couple was determined to get everything done as soon as possible, to prepare and plan every instance. The nursery was ready and waiting for the child not long after Vex began to show. Cass was one of the first to know, as the only other family member who lived with them. She was happy for them, she really was, but there was a twinge in her heart when they came to her with grins on their faces and brightness in their eyes. This child would continue the line of the De Rolos, this child would honor them. For years, Cassandra had lived out of the belief that she was the last of her kind. That she was the last of her family and therefore needed to survive. She was not the last. The line would continue without her.

The bliss of being constantly busy ended over breakfast. Vex was rambling about the gift that Pike had sent over, some baby rattle that Cassandra had yet to see, and Percival was nodding along, listening intently. Her brother’s wife was still obviously in mourning, there were bags under her eyes and more often than not, Cassandra saw her looking in the mirror and cringing away. She empathized; there is nothing more difficult than being unable to look at yourself without remembering all that you have lost. But she had Percival, and she had all of her family, that was enough to keep her going. She still smiled and laughed daily, that consoled them all.

The door to the dining hall opened with a creak, the three of them looked up from their food. Vex’s words were cut off immediately as a guard entered the room and left the door ajar before opening his mouth to speak.

“We've captured somebody on the outskirts of the forest, a man who we suspect assisted the Briarwoods in the coup against the De Rolos.” Cassandra's eyes immediately found Percival’s, they were wide and blue and determined. She and him stood at the same time, pushing their chairs back and starting towards the guard. Cassandra glanced over her shoulder and saw Vex, standing as well and grabbing Percy’s hand. He gave her a glance, pressed a kiss to their entwined fingers as they walked to meet Cassandra at the door. He did not reach for Cassandra, he had that expression on his face, one that she only saw every once in a while when a memory resurfaced. She couldn’t do anything to make it go away, the memory would still exist. They would always exist.

They followed the guard down the hall, silence filling their chests. It was pressing, suffocating but Cass was good at miming the act of breathing. She kept her eyes forward, ignoring the memories that appeared in her peripheral vision. The 13 year old with dark hair curling behind an old set of armor and sobbing into her skirts. The maid tried to clean up the blood that was smeared on the floor with a mop. It had stained the carpet. She’s pretty sure the Briarwoods burned it. This castle was filled with ghosts and in her day to day, she was usually able to ignore them or avoid them entirely. But this short walk to the dungeons was the worst it had been in years. Hearing the name “Briarwood” out loud had made it so the halls had awakened again, the memories that had faded somewhat into the background reappearing with a fervor.

They walked through the castle, making their way to the stairs that lead to the dungeons. As they descended the stairs, she heard Percy let out a tiny, almost imperceptible shaky breath. Yes, this was where he had spent most of his time between the attack and his escape. She tried not to remember in detail what she had found when she’d come to break them free. She wanted to turn around and comfort him but Percy was often not one to openly accept comfort, maybe just from Vex. Maybe he’d accept some from her but not when they were in front of a guard. It would feel too intimate to him, and to Cassandra as well if she was being honest.

The guard led them to the small series of cells until they were standing in front of a small, shadowed cell. Whoever was inside was shrouded in darkness and none of them (except perhaps Vex'ahlia, with her elven blood) could make out the prisoner. The guard lit a torch and suddenly they were all flooded in golden light. Cassandra blinked at it, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the figure that was curled against the stone wall. He was stripped to his basic layers, ragged looking tunic and pants, bare socks riddled with holes. His hair was long, blonde, matted and unkempt. He looked like one of the poor civilians she used to see all over the place years ago, before Whitestone rose again. She almost let pity bloom in her chest before she remembered why he was in this cell. No pity would be born on this day.

Moments passed, and she was close to saying something to get his attention, before he lifted his head. His face appeared out of the shadows and was flooded with light.

And suddenly, she was a child again.

She was 8 years old and laughing because one of the guards was playing with her, holding her doll high above her head and she was jumping to try and get it back. He was tall and smiled at her.

You see, the De Rolos were a powerful family, yes, but they were a family nonetheless. They valued every member of their staff, they were as close as family with many of them. And most of them loved the family right back. Cassandra had a few vague memories of being held on a maid’s hip and walked around the castle, her thumb in her mouth. Of playing tag with the cook’s children. And of this. Of a relatively young guard teasing her.

There was more. As there always was.

She was 11 and the guard was still around. He worked for them for as long as she could remember. He helped her with her studies when she became frustrated. He pointed out her mistakes and worked through them with her. He was kind to the spaz of a girl that she was.

He gave her candy. Snuck them from the kitchens and slipped them to her when no one was looking.

She was 13. She was crying. Screaming. Begging for her father. And he was… looking at her. The man who had been kind to her since she was small. He was looking at her and she realized, probably for the first time, that there was nobody left to save her. His eyes were brown, and they were empty, and he stared at her for many moments. He opened his mouth, and for a second, for one beautiful second, Cassandra thought he was going to call for the people holding her down to let her go. Her friend. Almost a member of their family; he had been loyal to them for years . But when he spoke, it was nothing. He turned to Lord Briarwood and asked what his next order was. She could hear them clearly as anything.

“Dr. Ripley needs assistance. Go to the dungeons and see what she needs.”  And he left without sparing her another glance.

He was there. For the first three of those five years, he was there. There were a few times, in the beginning, when she had tried to get him to help her. She learned quickly there was, and to her it seemed like there had never been, no affection for her or her family. He left, after a few years, and she can’t quite remember how, maybe from the snooping into Ripley’s journals she often did, or just from an overheard conversation, that he was the one who slaughtered Whitney. That he was the one who assisted Ripley in the torture of her siblings. She had no affection for him after that. The memories from her childhood tasted like bile, and to her chagrin, the faint flavor of lemon candies.

“Luther.”

She took a few steps forward, her hand coming to rest on one of the bars of the cage. She could look through them easier this way, see his face and every angle in it. Every line and wrinkle, every twist in his expression.

He tilted his head to the side, recognition flooding his eyes after a few moments of tense silence. His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “Cassandra.”

She stood there, clenching her hands around the bars to keep them from visibly shaking. She had never experienced anything like the pounding in her mind, the undeniable flood of feeling that coursed through her entire body. She did not like it; didn’t like the way she no longer had control over her limbs. She knew that her voice would shake if she tried to speak at this moment, so she kept her lips pressed together and body stiff.

Percy stepped forward next to her. The last of the De Rolos, side by side.

Luther did smile now. “Ah- Percival. I barely recognize you. Though I heard a few stories about you… thought they were false, of course. Why would that boy I knew be traveling with- what was it- Vox Machina ?”

His tone felt too casual, as if they were three acquaintances just getting caught up on each other's lives after years of separation. Percy was frowning, his eyebrows furrowed. “I remember you. I remember what you did.”

Luther’s smile falters. “Yes. The Briarwoods were quite the villains, weren’t they?”

Percy shifted his weight from foot to foot. “‘Villains’? That’s quite a perspective change, sir.”

He shook his head. “They had control of me. They had control of us all. I wish I could’ve done more, but alas, I-”

“Liar .” Cassandra found her voice without meaning to. The word came out strangled and snarling, like a wild animal fighting against its captor.

His eyes turned to hers again, he blinked slowly, so docile, so calm. It only made her rage even more. “I remember you so well. I desperately wish I could’ve saved you.”

“You’re a liar.” she breathed, her voice coming out a whisper but it felt like a shout. She took a step back from the bars and turned to the guard. “Let him out, keep him in chains but lead him out with us. I want to see him up close.”

“Cass-” Percy’s voice came from behind her, she held up a hand to stop him. It was enough to silence him, and he did not speak or protest as the guards fiddled with his keys and opened the door to the cell. Luther was unchained from the wall, but the cuffs keeping his wrists behind him stayed on. Cassandra pointed to the ground in front of her silently, and he was led there, standing before her.

“On your knees.” she ordered, using the same tone she’d use in a meeting with politicians. Luther looked at all the while, he stumbled a little as he dropped to his knees in front of her. She stared at him. He was older now, many years had passed since she had last seen him, but so many that she couldn’t take his face now and warp it into the expressions of the man she knew back then. He had broken his nose since leaving Whitestone, and his hair was thinner than it had been.

“Do you remember,” she began, her voice unshaken now. “The day you buried Whitney?”

He shook his head. She clenched her fist.

“No?” he shook his head again. “Let me paint you a picture.”

She took a step forward until she was just a few inches away from him. In the last moment before speaking, she reached forward and took a fistful of his hair, yanking it back so that he was looking right up at her. She might be small but from this angle, he needed to crane his neck to look directly at her. She made sure he was staring into her blue, De Rolo eyes. She wanted to make him see them all, make him see the children who once ran through the halls, the leaders who ruled so peacefully; see the people he helped to slaughter.

“There’s a reason you don’t remember.” she said a little too sharply and a little too loudly, so that when the words came out it sounded a little unhinged in her anger. “You took her down from the tree, I’m sure you remember this. You took them all down from the tree, you can say more than I can what you did with the rest of them, but Whit, she was still in one piece. Remember? Remember how you killed her? And what did you do with that little girl’s body, long after she was gone? Bury her respectfully? Burn her and spread her ashes in the garden? I know how the Briarwoods worked, Luther, they don’t control you all the time. I watched you do it.”

He swallowed under her gaze, trying to turn his eyes away from her eyes but she ripped hard at his hair so that he winced and his eyes watered. But he looked at her again.

“What did you do?” she asked, not really asking. She was ordering again.

“I-I don’t remember.”

“I know you do. I broke a lot of rules to try to reach you, to try and get your attention outside the castle, but instead I watched you. What did you do?”

His eyes were watering more now but it was something else besides the pain making him do it. His whole body shook. “Cut her hair. Took her clothes. Sold it.”

None of the others had salvageable clothes or hair, Cassandra had realized back then. They had been covered in blood, ripped apart, unclean and unprofitable. But Whitney, she had been killed the most cleanly. Not the most mercifully, of course not, none of them were capable of mercy. But Whit still looked most like herself and that was dainty, pretty, clean. They took even that away from her. Cut off her long curls until she had shorter hair than father’s. Took her clothes so that she had no dignity, even in death. And then, only then, could her sister be taken back to where the rest of her deceased family was. It had stuck with Cassandra, for the rest of her life. The way the men had talked and even laughed as they did this to a child. She couldn’t hear a lot from her hiding spot but she could see their faces and that was enough. It was mind control. And she still didn’t know why they were so horrible. She had more nightmares about that memory than any other.

“Why did you do it?” She knew her voice sounded more hysterical than she would like it to but the image of her sister’s white corse floated over her vision. “Why? Why us?”

He did not answer for a long time. “Gold lined our pockets for what we did.”

“No.” she bit out. “Why did you hate us?”

He looked at her with dull eyes, his eyes were still half full with tears but his eyes held hers with no emotion in them. “No ruler is well loved by all. We did what we wanted, for the first time in years. The children were just in the crossfire… we got carried away.”

She leaned back, letting go of his hair. Carried away. Carried away .

She didn’t even try to stop herself. Her punch was filled with a power she didn’t know she had. She swung hard and hit him square in the jaw, the momentum carrying his body to the ground as he was unprepared for the hit. When she saw the blood on his cheek she realized that she had hit him with the hand that she wore her ring with the Whitestone crest on it. Poetic in an odd way. She did not regret the gash that she had left on his face. She hoped it scarred, hoped it would stay there forever.

There was a ringing silence as she shook out her fingers that buzzed with the impact.

“Give me a reason not to slit your throat.” she let her left hand rest on the blade that hung on her belt. “Because there has not been a word out of your mouth that has convinced me you are deserving of another minute of life.”

“I wasn’t in control-”

She wrapped her hand around the hilt of the sword.

“I could’ve killed you, I could’ve-”

Pulling the blade out, she watched the torch light glint off the blade. Metal is oddly beautiful, especially when the promise of vengeance sits on its tip.

“I’ll do anything, I’ve become a better man!”

Cassandra placed the tip of the blade on his throat. Over the past few years she had gotten to be far more skilled with a blade. Thanks to Vex’s tutelage and her own determination to defend herself against any sort of danger, by now she could join Vox Machina and hold her own. But this was not a test of skill by any means, he was directly in front of her, chained and shaking out of fear. It felt good that he was so afraid that tears started rolling down his cheeks, that she held power over him. It felt good to be powerful. Never in her life had she been this strong in the face of somebody she used to fear.

“Cassandra!” Percy’s voice was the only barrier between her and slicing this man’s body in two.

“Brother, shut up.” she bit out. She felt a hand on her shoulder and tried to shrug it off but he stayed firm.

“I know what you are feeling. I truly do. And if I were myself at any other time in my life, I would be right next to you. But I can’t let you do this, Cass.” His voice was the most sincere she had heard him in a long time. The softest he had ever been in her direction since they had defeated Vecna.

“Yes, you can.” she said, pressing the blade in a little harder so that a dot of blood appeared right between his collarbones. “You can step back and be silent for once.”

“He can’t and neither will I.” Cassandra let out a half sigh, half laugh, as Vex’s voice joined alongside Percy’s. “Darling, you need to give me the sword.”

“You can’t take this away from me.” she snapped. “Just let me have this one thing.”

In her peripheral, Percy was standing there, hand on her shoulder and face dead serious. But on her other side, she could see his younger, crumpled, bloodied body. The body she had seen and thought he was gone like the rest of them until she saw his rising and falling chest.

“I can’t.” he said softly.

“You can. You can . He let them destroy us, Percy. He killed Whitney. He helped Ripley. He’s one of them. Why do you get to kill them all and I get nothing? Let me have something for once in my life!” she let her voice rise, finally, shouting at him even though he was right by her. She wanted to scream. To cry. To beg for her family even though her only family was right here.

“I wish I could.” His voice was so eerily calm, so sad in a way that made her want to shove him away even harder. “I need you to put the sword down, Cass. Or I’ll have to do something I don’t want to.”

“I hate you.” she said, staring directly at Luther but not sure who exactly she was saying it at. She knew that she sounded like a petulant child who wasn’t getting what they wanted and was throwing a fit but her whole body trembled with need . She needed to destroy this physical manifestation of everything the Briarwoods did to her. She needed to hurt him in a way she couldn’t hurt them. Killing Delilah wasn’t enough to quell this need in her soul. She needed more.

“He deserves it.” she argued, her hand that held the word trembling.

“He does.” Percy agreed. “But I will not let you become what I was on the path to. I swear to all the gods, I know what you’re feeling intimately. Killing this man will not make things better. Give Vex the sword.”

She felt tears sliding down her cheeks. “I can still see them.”

“I know.”

A hand that wasn’t Percy’s gently pried her fingers off of the hilt of the sword. She let it happen.

“I’m so tired, Percy.”

“I know.”

And then the sword was out of her grip, and she let out a strangled sob as she shoved Luther hard in the chest. It sent him tumbling back to the ground, onto his back, his hands still behind his back. Leaving him completely vulnerable. But her hands were empty, and the world wasn’t fair, and she could barely see him through the wall of tears obscuring her vision.

She placed a knee on his sternum, leaning into it enough to hurt. Tears dripped off her chin and landed on his face. She wanted to kill almost more than she had ever wanted anything.

“This world will be brighter when you are gone.” She spoke impressively clearly considering all that she was feeling. “And I will be that much happier.”

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. She did not let him speak, when he opened his mouth to say something, she pressed harder onto his chest and shortened his breath. He simply let out a pained squeak and she let herself smirk in satisfaction. She straightened back up, adjusting her blouse before turning back to the guard that had led them to the dungeons in the first place. Her cheeks were still soaked with tears, she didn’t bother to wipe them away. They would dry eventually.

“I want him chained, hands and legs, and gagged until his trial date. Thank you.” the guard nodded his head in confirmation, his eyes just a little wide. No doubt in shock at the display from his ruler he had just witnessed. She knew that she should care that he had just seen her at her weakest but she couldn’t be bothered to. All she could do was watch as she made sure he was bound correctly back in his cage before turning on her heel and climbing the steps back up into the corridors. Her body felt hollow, each movement felt like a ghost inhabiting her body.

She made it maybe fifteen paces before Percy caught up to her, grabbing her upper arm and turning her to look at him. She didn’t speak first, her face spoke enough for her. For the first time, Percy really saw her. It was like he hadn’t truly looked at her in months. She looked wrecked, cheeks splotched and wet. But more than that. There were dark bags under her eyes, a hollowness in those eyes and she looked exactly as she had said. Tired. Just exhausted to a point where anyone else would be dead on their feet.

“It’s alright.” it was all he could think to say. What was he supposed to console her with? There was nothing good about the situation they had found themselves in. He tugged her into a messy, awkward hug. “It’s alright, Cassie.”

She buried her face into his chest, breathing in the scent of her brother. Black powder and the hint of Vex’s perfume and smoke. He was so much taller than her, all legs and arms. Her body didn’t fit quite right into his like it felt like it should. In all books, when people were family or close to family, they fit together like puzzle pieces. Their hugs felt just right. This didn’t feel perfect, it wasn’t “just” right but it was definitely right. There would be an indent on her face from pressing her face into a button on his vest but she was caring less and less about dignity. It had been so long since she’d properly hugged Percy and he hadn’t had to rush away for whatever reason. He held her for a long, long time. She got the impression that he had decided in his mind that he would not be the first to pull away.

Eventually, one of them had to and Cassandra pushed off him with a sigh. She saw Vex hovering a little ways away, trying to look like she wasn’t watching but glancing over every once in a while. Percy was looking at her fondly but with worry in his eyes. She reached up and brushed hair off of his forehead, distracted by the hair that had almost fallen into his eyes. He needed a haircut.

“I’ll be alright, Percival.” she murmured. “I promise. You don’t need to worry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t. You have to let me help you now. Let us help you.”

“My darkness is not your darkness.” she told him. “We are not the same.”

“I know,” he said earnestly. “But you’re my sister. And I will not be able to go on if I don’t help you now.”

She pursed her lips, looking away. “I know.”

“Cassandra?” She lifted her eyes back up to his. “I care about you. Very much.”

“And I you.” she said, the response she always said in response to intimate speeches.

“What he’s trying to say is that he loves you dearly.” Vex had walked up to them now, standing beside Percy and looking at Cassandra with a knowing look in her eye. “Right, Percy?”

Percy tucked his chin against his chest for a second, smiling. “Right. Love you, sister.”

She hadn’t heard that in a long time either. “I-I love you too.”

It almost felt wrong on her tongue. And she hated that it felt wrong. Hated that she was so unpracticed in love that she didn’t know the correct way to say it. That the cadence of her words was all wrong. That her tone wasn’t sincere enough.

“You look a mess, dear.” Vex was the first to speak after a bit of a silence, she wrapped an arm around Cassandra’s shoulders and started walking them down the hall. “Come. Let’s go for a walk, hm?”

So Cassandra let herself be led through the halls and into the gardens. With her sister-in-law on one arm and her brother on the other, she felt fully secure. Each step forward brought her closer to herself and though she was still shaking with anger, her hands itching for the hilt of the sword Vex had left behind, her mind scrambling to cope with all that happened in the last twenty minutes. She let herself be led around by her loved ones, Vex at one point pressing a kiss to her cheek and smiling before turning forwards again and continuing on with some story about Trinket. She did feel loved and was surprised to find that after months of being holed up in her office, it was nice to step out into the sun and breathe.

That night, when she lay in her bed wide awake, she wondered what exactly the darkness in her chest was. Percy had Orthax in him whispering desires of vengeance into his ear, urging him to do horrible things. But she had no monster inside her. She had no odd dreams and no voice in her ear telling to cut that man’s head off. She had wanted that, herself, her mind. It had been her own desires and need to quell that need inside her, not some outside force. Did that make her worse than him? She did not think herself a terrible person for having the desire to hurt those who had hurt her worse. But even Percy had let his revenge empty from his body when Orthax had left.

She pulled herself out of bed, walked barefoot down the hall, down all the steps until she reached the door that led into Percy’s workshop. At this time of night, it was a toss up on where he would be. Sometimes Vex was able to drag him to bed at a decent time but still, even with the pressure from her and Cassandra, more often than not Percy could be found bent over some contraption he was spending far too many hours perfecting. She knocked on the door and when she didn’t hear an answer, gently turned the doorknob and peaked inside.

He was there, so absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear her knock. She stepped inside, and it was only when she closed the door that he lifted his head and turned around. Confusion immediately knitted his eyebrows together. Seeing her in her nightgown, hair completely down and loose around her face, no shoes on her feet, was probably the oddest thing he had seen in awhile. Cassandra almost never let her appearances slip on purpose, and the few times she did were either accidental or something forced her to. Her skirts always had no wrinkles in them, her sleeves always buttoned, her hair made just so. But she had come to him, vulnerable and looking so very not-Cassandra.

“Cassandra.” he said, meeting her gaze. “What can I do for you?”

“Might I just sit and watch for a bit?” she asked.

He blinked, taken aback before rushing to answer. “Uh- yes. Yes, of course.”

He grabbed a stool and placed it next to his work table, patting it awkwardly. “Come sit.”

She did. Lifted herself up and watched him work on some clock-like machinery. She was fascinated by his work, even if she didn’t completely understand. Sitting here with the heat of the furnace close and only Percy’s soft humming, she felt more calm than she had in a while. Especially not after how emotionally taxing the day had been. She wanted to ask about what he was doing but didn’t want to break the silence, and anyways, she was too caught up in her own thoughts to be able to follow any complicated explanation at the moment.

“Percy?” she said after a long time of just silent working. He hummed in response, a confirmation that he had heard and was listening. “Did you still… want to hurt people, after Orthax? Want to kill those who forced us to lose everyone?”

His hands stopped moving and he let them rest on the table, completely still. He stayed that way for an uncomfortably long amount of time, letting the silence stretch and stretch until she felt it was going to snap. Instead of breaking it with a word, he let out a heavy sigh. Leaning his head back so that he could look up at the ceiling.

“It’s a good question.” He finally said. “The thing about Orthax, about the darkness, is that it didn’t create the want in my mind. He didn’t make me want to murder those people, Cass, I wanted to. I want to. He gave me the tools and then it was just a matter of me saying yes. In the state I was in… of course, I said yes.”

She nodded along, listening intently. “But after. What about after he was gone?” He tapped his fingers on the table, chewing on his bottom lip. “I think… I think by that point I had gone so far for my revenge, I had experienced it to the point where I was both satisfied and hungry. I knew I had done what I set out to do, but part of me still wanted more. I knew then, and it was only thanks to my friends that I was able to, that revenge was not what would fix me. As much as they deserve it. As much as I wanted to make them hurt for what they did. It was not what would bring me joy.”

He looked over at her then, her pale skin golden from the small lamps that were littered around the room and the fiery furnace. He considered her for a few moments, taking in his baby sister who he had had no idea how to approach all of these months. He had been so afraid that she would realize that she hated him for leaving her behind, that she had grown so far away from him that there was no closing that gap. He looked at her, and the white streaks in her hair that would always remind them of what she had gone through, and saw himself reflected back. It was too hard to explain, even to himself. But in her eyes, if he looked deep enough he could see that hunger that had drawn him to Orthax in the first place. In the set of her frown, in the clench of her fist. His sister was strong, she had always been that way. Her darkness would not overcome her.

“I truly wish I could let you kill him,” he said with a humorless chuckle when she did not respond right away. “But this world doesn’t need another De Rolo on a destructive streak.”

She cracked a smile at that. “Yes, from what I hear, that would not be the brightest idea.”

She was breaking inside, a little. Cassandra De Rolo, strong, fearless, always held her head up high, had cracks spreading through her chest. She was afraid they would show on her face. She wanted nothing more than to burn and burn and burn until she felt happy or she was gone completely. She wanted so much. So much she couldn’t have. But one thing she could have, she wanted. So she did it.

She reached for Percy, placing her open palm on the table as an invitation. He reached and took it with both of his, holding it tightly. She whispered to him, even though there was no one else around, “I hate that it’s just us. I hate the quiet.”

He nodded. “I do too.”

“It was awful, when you were gone after the Briarwoods.” she told him, for the first time. Admitting something she knew he didn’t want to hear. “I was… lonely. So lonely, Percy. In this cursed castle, having to remember-”

He squeezed her hand tightly when her voice started to have an edge again. She had lived her entire life in this castle, she had known it in its prime, she had known it in its darkest hour, and she would know it for the rest of her life. It was the hardest thing, every morning, to get up and face the rooms where she faced horrors for five years. And when it was over, it was still as if she had to face them every day. She hated it, seeing their faces, seeing the bodies hanging from the Sun Tree. There was nothing from her to do but move through each day and ignore the painful chasm in her chest.

“I’m here now. Vex is here now. We’re not going away.” he told her. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

She wanted to cry again but instead she half smiled. Lovely to hear him say that, lovely to hear his voice at all. She needed to treasure that more often. For years, she had thought she was alone, the last of the De Rolos. And finally, her brother sat before her once again, he was at her disposal all of the time and yet she didn't hold him tightly everyday, she didn’t treasure his every word. But maybe that was a good thing. It meant they were healing. It meant that they had become a normal part of each other's routine again. She didn’t need to hold every moment with him dear because they had years to find happy moments with each other. It brought her some peace, to remember they had so much time. The clock did not feel as if it was ticking down every second anymore, and they could breathe in these minutes of silence.

“I’m very tired.” she told him finally. He slackened his grip on her hand, but still held it loosely with one of his.

“Let’s get you to bed, mother would be so unhappy with the hour.” Despite the pang of sadness the mention of their mother brought her, she laughed.

“She would, wouldn’t she?” she replied. She made him turn off the furnace and put all his things away before they walked out of the workshop, in the hopes that would force him into bed. They walked through the dark hallways, Cassandra’s arm looped through Percy’s. He brought her back to her room, opening the door and leading her inside. She hadn’t known Percy to ever be the most affectionate person but over the last few months it was like he was practicing for his child. Giving more hugs, giving more kind words, going out of his way to make his intent clear. It made her proud, made her happy, that her brother was healing alongside all of his friends. She felt left behind sometimes, that he was making strides in his journey to happiness and she had inherited his gloom. But it still made her happier, when he sat down on the bed next to her and pinched her cheek playfully, the way he used to when she was a child. He’d been only a few years older than her, but old enough to tease her and remind her he was the elder of the two.

“Goodnight, Cassandra.” he said as he got up. “Sleep well.”

“Sleep well.” she repeated as he left and closed the door softly. The room felt fuller now than it had when she had left to find Percy. Warmer.

After she blew out all her candles, she laid in the dark, staring up into the expanse of her ceiling. The darkness felt heavy after all the discussion from the day. It was closing in on her and she closed her eyes to fight against it, now looking at the back of eyelids instead of her pitch black room. Maybe it was her subconscious or maybe it was her tired mind beginning to descend into dreams or maybe those are the same things but regardless, moments passed and then, clear as day, she heard the woman who had ruined it all.

“You could’ve been my daughter.” Lady Briarwood crooned in a sing-song voice. That voice that had been used against Cassandra for so many years, that voice that had haunted her dreams, and her waking hours, and never seemed to leave even when she was alone.

She was a De Rolo. She tried to scream it but her throat wouldn’t work, her mouth wouldn’t work.

I am a De Rolo .

She would wake up tomorrow and she would still be a De Rolo. She had always been. Even when there was nothing to keep her chained to her family, she had this castle, she had their memories, and she would not let them go. She planned on living a long life, one that honored her family in every decision she made. She wanted to make them proud, make her living family proud, and make her home a home for the continuation of their line. There was so much to do and every day she had to remind herself she had time. Beautiful, sweet time. And when Delilah’s voice grew stronger in her head sometimes, she would turn her head and Percy would be there. If the ghosts got a little too strong, she’d turn her cheek. The visions didn’t go away, how could they, after all of these years of persisting and festering in her head? But she lived with them.

She hurt. She’d always hurt, she supposed.

She was broken but not shattered. She refused to shatter. That would have to be enough until she was whole again.

[rose-vanderan]

You’ll Be Safe

Pairing: Remus/Tonks (Mentioned)

Rating: G (General)

Word Count: 3,048

Notes: What happens to 12 Grimmauld Place following the end of the Second Wizarding War? Also known as me exploring a few personal headcanons in a Post War canon divergence setting.

Also posted under AO3 under the same name (”You’ll Be Safe” by Curious_Feline)

The years following the Battle of Hogwarts were tough for everyone it affected. Harry went off with Ron and Neville to join up with Aurors to clean up the wreckage following the War. Harry was told by multiple people that he didn’t need to continue, none of the children that were involved needed to risk themselves anymore, trying to catch any of the dark wizards that managed to flee. They were determined to try and keep fighting, afraid of what would happen if they stopped. The threat from the Second Wizarding War kept looming over their heads during their school years, it was hard to be a child.

Ron Weasley was the first to drop out of the career, he reached his limit feeling himself reaching a breaking point. Hermione pointed it out to all three of the boys, concerned that they were stretching themselves too thin. What helped Ron realize he needed a break was George. Following the loss of his twin, it took George a while before he was able to get up and move himself back to the shop. Ron offered to help him shortly after George brought up trying to reopen. He didn’t want Fred’s dream to die with him. It was Fred’s dream for the joke shop just as much as George’s. Together they both were able to bring life back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, bringing it back to it's glory days watching proudly as it filled to the brim with excited customers. Ron even dawned the tacky two piece suit, proudly displacing the bright orange and purple displaying around the shop.

Neville Longbottom took a little while to reach a tipping point. He wanted to join the Aurors to help Harry and Ron, feeling like he wanted to make his parents proud to try and follow in their footsteps. He didn’t hate being an auror, but he realized he wouldn’t be able to do it as a career because he couldn’t put his heart into it. He knew he needed a break because he felt like he wasn’t making himself proud simply by doing it because he felt like he had too. He knew his parents would want him to do whatever he loved, and knew that this wasn’t what he wanted. He started looking into alternatives before he was presented the opportunity to further his education to get trained under Professor Sprout to be the next Herbology Teacher. It felt the first time he smiled genuinely since the War ended.

Harry Potter took the longest to leave the Aurors. He kept pushing himself, afraid to stop. He felt like it was simply because he didn’t know what would happen if he did. People kept telling him he has done enough, that he doesn’t need to keep going, or that he should just rest. Harry wasn’t sure he knew how to do that anymore. He’s lost so many people in his young life, that he feels like he has to keep going or else he has failed everyone that has died. There was always that voice that he heard in the back of his head that told him that they wouldn’t want him running himself ragged or constantly pushing himself to a breaking point; that he’s done enough. It took Harry the longest until close friends and people he considered family told him it was okay. They told him that he needed a break, he needed to rest, because the boy has done enough that he doesn’t have to do anything for the rest of his life. Harry finally quit the Aurors after he realized, finally, that he didn’t have to keep fighting.

------

It was by the third year following the Battle of Hogwarts that Harry had created something he was proud of. He might not have kept fighting with the aurors but he kept fighting in other ways, and this was a way that made him insanely proud. By the third year following the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had turned 12 Grimmauld Place into a safe haven. Here wizarding children that needed a place where they could feel safe and loved was waiting with open arms. They had children that needed a safe place to stay over holidays from Hogwarts, as well as muggleborn orphans or any children whose family didn’t appreciate their child’s newfound gifts. The most controversial thing about his new sanctuary was that Harry made it point to also take in werewolves.

-----

Nymphadora Tonks stayed as an Auror following the Battle of Hogwarts, although far more carefully now that she had her son, Teddy. She stayed under Mad Moody, who to the shock of everyone in the Order managed to make it through the whole ordeal with only a few more scars to show for it. Tonks alongside her partner, Jamie, were tasked with training the three newest up and coming Auror recruits: Ron, Neville, and Harry. They both guided them, showing them the ropes, being excited to finally get to be in a mentor's footsteps. Tonks was one of the few people who got it into Harry's head that it was okay for him to quit being an Auror, that he's done enough for this world. She gave him the biggest hug, sweeping him off his feet and twirling him around when he thanked her on the day he resigned. The display actually got the boy to laugh by the time she put him down, and she ruffled his unruly hair before taking him by the shoulders to say how proud she was of him and how she'd definitely miss him as a protégée. She waved him off but not before shouting at him that he wasn't getting rid of his "Cool" Aunt Tonks that easily, reminding him of dinner that Friday.

Remus Lupin had survived the Second Wizarding War just as he had survived the First. He stayed behind with his wife and child when the Battle of Hogwarts raised hell over the school grounds. He felts his heart sink heavy with guilt after he heard what happened but didn't stop the selfish part of him that at least the people most important to him that he had made it through the Battle. He spent countless moments constantly telling Harry how proud he was of him, terrified to have almost lost him too and Harry cried so much that day, his eyes burned but felt the stinging all the same as he stayed holding onto him. Remus cried that day and he cried again and held Harry for what felt like hours after he was told about Grimmauld Place. Harry explained that it was to be made into a sanctuary for not only children who needed a home but a place for werewolves to go to get help. They would be given access to wolfsbane potion every month as well as directed towards a safe location for transformations. Harry may never know the pain the Remus had felt all the years living in isolation, being shunned from society but he wants to do everything in his power to ensure that no other werewolf is put through what his Uncle was.

“Harry….” Remus choked out, still holding Harry in a crushing hug, “I...I’m so proud of you. You’ve given so much for this world, and you continue to give. Your parents would be so proud of you, you know that?”

Remus pulled back from the hug to look at Harry, tears staining his face. Harry took one sleeve up to his own eyes and rubbed it lazily to rid it of the tears he didn’t even know were starting to fall. He gave a sheepish smile and hugged Remus quickly.

“I don’t want anyone to go through anything like we did.” Harry said, knowing the pain close to heart, knowing he can still brighten this world. “I know Hermione is trying all she can with her equality acts she keeps taking to the Ministry. Now that Shacklebolt is there we should be able to do loads better.”

Remus let out a soft chuckle, “I’m sure Sirius would be happy to hear that his childhood home is being used for something so important. Probably only because it would drive his Mother mad. The articles they would write....”

“It’s going to be fun trying to read through all the articles that will be written, I’m sure.” Harry grinned at the thought.

------

As the months passed, he spent countless hours renovating and altering Grimmauld Place. Even with Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic, Harry still had to deal with countless inspections. He knew there was only this type of restriction because he vocally mentioned his plans to be offering help to werewolves. He knew that even though Remus Lupin was a hero following the Second War, most people only saw him as an exception. He also knew how much work the team, led by Hermione Granger, was working trying to get more recognition and change for equality. What came as a shock to some was a certain person that took to helping Harry out with Grimmauld Place. Most of the Weasleys came by to visit and help where they could, Remus & Tonks with his godson Teddy dropped by when he couldn’t visit, and his friends even dropped in for assistance. The person that few expected was Percy.

Percy Weasley had spent most of his time following the Battle of Hogwarts with his family. George had rarely let him be alone the first few months. The night following the Battle, George had snuck into Percy’s room and slept with him. George then took to shadowing his older brother for those painful few first months. Percy never complained but felt stings of guilt because he felt like he didn’t deserve it. George was actually the one that had pushed Percy to take the job offer that Shaklebolt had offered him. When the Ministry was trying to rebuild itself, all the departments had a lot to go through to try and repair the mess that was left behind. Shaklebolt had brought Percy back in to try and offer him a job back working in the Ministry. Shacklebolt had mentioned that Percy was damn good at his job. He always was. Even through all the stress the Death Eaters put the entire Ministry through, Percy always did his job damn near perfectly. There was a reason the Death Eaters never got rid of him or tried to replace him. So after reviewing the clustered mess that was the Floo Network, Percy took the job. He may have only taken this particular job because he had thought of a few solutions, but he knew he needed to do something soon before he lost his mind, and with how chaotic this was he knew he would be distracted. Percy made a vow with himself though, he never missed a family dinner, work be damned.

Percy started showing up at Grimmauld Place a lot a few months after it was officially established. Harry was surprised that he seemed to enjoy spending time around all the kids and about how easily he handled them and even started to teach them. Then again, Harry was learning, especially after the Battle of Hogwarts, there was a lot he didn’t know about Percy. Percy had a given knack for children, it’s what made it easier to wrangle all of his younger siblings when Bill or Charlie were occupied or gone. It got harder and harder to do as the years went on but he prided himself on how he was able to do it before the youngest four got to school. Before everything got worse. Percy did find it amusing that both Harry and Ron found it shocking that he was able to handle the current 5 children in Grimmauld Place with ease.

“Keep your face like that, it might get stuck.” Tonks grinned, sticking her head into the doorway, glancing over at them. The boys were standing in the sitting room that was adjacent to a playroom where Percy was. Ron had his eyebrow raised in confusion watching as Percy held up his arm, watching a toddler dangle from it like a handbag, the child giggling like mad. Harry had his arms crossed, a puzzled look painted his face as he was honestly fascinated by how easy Percy was making it look.

“I’m just wondering where all…” Ron gestured with his hands towards Percy and the small hoard of children. “This came from.”

“Well,” Tonks began, coming into the room standing next to Ron, “You have a lot of siblings. Plus I heard the stories of how he was a mother hen to the students when he was in school.”

Ron pondered the thought, recalling back to all the times Percy had dragged been overprotective (overbearing he more than often thought) during those first three years in school. He conceded and nodded, Harry giving a chuckle watching Percy starting to look a little helpless in the other room.  Tonks let out barking laughter as one of the children started climbing onto Percy’s back while another tried dragging him in another direction, causing Percy to collapse on the ground resulting in a dogpile of giggling children.

------

When Harry started taking in children that were younger than schooling age, he knew he’d need to start tutoring them so they’d have some basic education before they were sent off to Hogwarts. It was safer to home school them here at Grimmauld then it would’ve been to send them off to public school. Part of Harry didn’t hate the idea of being one of the rotating teachers for the children either. It was after watching how Percy interacted with the children that he approached him. He offered him the idea of coming over to help tutor the younger children to help prepare them for school. Percy was terribly confused as to why he would’ve been propositioned such a thing.

“I mean you had top marks in school, didn’t you?” Harry asked completely casually.

“Well, yes I mean…” Percy said, taken aback. “I just don’t see why you’d be asking me?” Percy was raising his left eyebrow in confusion. This was one of the times Percy just came over, he claimed it was because he had some free time but what he didn’t say was that he had promised a few of the children that he would come back and read them a story he had told them about.

“I mean I know you’re busy with work, Shacklebolt was telling about all the good you’ve been doing in the Department of Magical Transportation. I’ve just seen how good you’ve been handling the kids. I just figured you could try being one of the rotating tutors we’re going to have for the younger ones.” Harry explained.

Percy gave it some thought. He knew he didn’t have to worry as much about his job as he used to, having been made the Head of the Department. He had made tremendous work on the chaos that got left behind after the war. He enjoyed spending time with the children, something he personally never thought he would enjoy as much as he did. He knew he didn’t hate children, it wasn’t something on the table when you had as many siblings as he did. He was close with his mother and did tend to pick up her behavior, especially for wrangling his siblings. Percy also knew all the jokes that people made about him being a Prefect in school, always fussing over the younger students and “taking his job too seriously” as certain students would claim. Percy considered the offer for only a few moments but his brain whipping through the thoughts felt like minutes ticking by. He accepted it, holding out a formal hand for Harry to take as a sign of agreement. Harry grinned and shook his hand, happy that he was on board.

------

This set both boys up on a path for future careers that they may have considered but never knew they would have. Some short years following the establishment of 12 Grimmauld Place as a sanctuary, Harry was approached by now Headmistress McGonagall for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. She had mentioned how he always had a knack for the subject when he was a student, and Harry remembered how much he enjoyed teaching Dumbledore’s Army all those years ago. He briefly thought about the career as an option back in his Fifth Year when Ron had brought it up as an option but it quickly got drowned out by the War.

Percy took years after Harry became a Professor before he looked at that option. His children were a few years old before he announced one night at dinner. The words “I think I’d like to look into being Professor at Hogwarts” came out easier than he had expected. His spouse was fully supportive and encouraging even. No matter how long they’ve been together it still surprised him. Percy had given it careful consideration before he had landed on being the Potions Professor. It helped solidify his decision when Neville and Harry had mentioned that Slughorn was looking for an intern to mentor to replace him. Percy had recalled back to his youth in that he actually quite enjoyed Potions and counted it among on his favorite subjects. He also remembers that when he was younger he counted it as a personal victory that Severus Snape had begrudging respect for the boy, as he had managed near perfect marks in his class. Percy throughout the years was keen on making his own potions too, even offering to help where he could with the supply of Wolfsbane Potions for Harry’s sanctuary to be distributed out to safehouses. It seemed almost scarily natural once he started being mentored by Professor Slughorn and quickly picked up a rhythm that worked easily for him that flowed through the classroom.

  In the years that followed as the next generation filtered into Hogwarts, they had a few new teachers than the previous generation. They got to watch as the houses united, prejudices being abandoned, and Hogwarts and the Wizarding World continued on the path of greatness and strove to always get better year after year.

[asyeralovelies]

ICARUS - percy jackson x oc (chapter one)

word count: 3,909

trigger warnings: gory description (mrs dodds) , implied physical abuse

a/n: lmao i posted this on wattpad first (@/asyeralovely) so you guys can check it out there too. also on ao3, same user as my wattpad.

"My, my..." Dittany celeste murmured as she looked around Yancy Academy, a private school in upstate new york. Her satyr friend, Grover Underwood, and her mentor at Camp Half-Blood, Chiron, or tío as she liked to call him, had asked for someone to help in picking up a demigod in the school. Apparently, it was so hard to get the half-blood that they needed another one from camp.

Well, Dittany wasn't really "just another one at camp."

The dark haired girl had been left at camp borders when she was a mere one year old, the only information of her mother she had was that the woman's last name was "Celeste."

Honestly, she didn't know what to feel about the woman. Did she leave her there to train early at camp to learn to protect herself? Did her mother simply not want a child and left her there to fend for herself? The daughter of Hephaestus had no clue.

The only other long-timers at a young age in camp was Annabeth Chase, another friend of hers. The daughter of Athena had been there since she was seven.

Dittany snapped her fingers, willing the mist, a veil that covers up the Greek Myths world in mortal eyes, to make her seem like another student in Yancy Academy. She had learned that trick when she was ten, after six years of pestering her tío.

As she walked casually around the halls of the private school, her mind went through notes about the new demigod. His name was Percy Jackson, a boy with black hair and green eyes. He was in sixth grade and seemed to have attracted a very dangerous monster, because Grover had been panicking when he Iris-Messaged her about the situation.

Finally, the girl caught sight of a certain curly haired satyr talking to who she assumed to be Percy Jackson and stalked towards them. She snapped her fingers again, willing the mist to make it seem she was already friends with the two. Well, to Percy. Grover already knew her, without the mist.

The green eyed boy met her own dark eyes and he grinned as if they really did know each other, as if the scars on her face were a natural sight, and Dittany grinned back, acting her role.

"Hey, Perce," she said enthusiastically, using the first nickname that came to mind. She sent a subtle nod to Grover, who gave her a quick thumbs up. "You two having fun without me? After all we've been through!"

Percy rolled his eyes and smiled fondly at her. "Shut up, An. Grover was just saying something about being worried for the field trip tomorrow." He looked at her with a raised eye brow, like he was saying, "can you believe him?"

Dittany was a great actress. "What? You afraid our teacher's gonna turn into a monster and slash us to bits?" she asked Grover, mirth in her eyes. The satyr narrowed his own eyes at her, clearly too worried to laugh in amusement.

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm just.." he couldn't seem to find an excuse for his nerves.

"Just?" said Dittany amusedly.

"Whatever." he grumbled.

Dittany only smiled teasingly at him.

"I'm going to kill her," Percy mumbled. Nancy Bobofit, a red haired girl with kleptomania and freckles that seemed spray painted with crushed Cheetos, had been throwing wads of her sandwich into Grover's curly brown hair.

Dittany knew Percy wouldn't do that, because according to Grover, the demigod was on probation and had been threatened by the headmaster himself with death by in-school suspension if anything remotely strange happened.

See, from what she had gathered with observations in one day, the boy had ADHD and dyslexia, like most demigods. Dittany didn't have dyslexia, meaning she could read perfectly fine, but she could still read Greek. In truth, she didn't know how that worked, but she didn't question it.

"It's okay. I like peanut butter." Grover said. Being thrown at your hair, Dittany mused. Hope you're not serious.

Grover dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." Percy snapped, standing up, but Dittany pulled him down by his shirt.

"You're already on probation, Mr Jackson," the girl air quoted the last part. "Anything remotely shitty happens and you're out of here." then she smirked. "Wouldn't want to leave your two best friends in the whole world, would you?"

That shut him up.

When Dittany willed the mist, she made it so Percy thought she had been here since day one and only had Grover for a friend. The daughter of the forges had noticed that the only things keeping Percy from straight up leaving was because of his friends who would be all alone without him and his mom who would be disappointed that he just gave up.

Sally Jackson was a nice woman, from last night when Dittany had Iris-Messaged her. She informed the mother that she was also going to keep watch on Percy, since the situation was getting desperate with the really powerful monster. But Dittany had assured her things would be fine when Sally started panicking about the statement.

But today, Dittany's senses were on high alert.

She knew immediately that Mrs Dodds, the other chaperone for the field trip, was their monster. From the way her eyes had widened when she caught sight of Dittany, who had not been there before, and seeing the students just pass by her like she had been there all along. From the way the monster had glared at her, like she was silently asking, "how dare you interfere!?"

She had glared back at the woman. The students saw it as "what're you gonna do about it?" because in their mist memories, the dark haired girl liked to stir trouble. The "what're you gonna do about it?" glare really meant that she was challenging the monster.

Ever since Dittany had left for a quest with Luke Castellan, a son of Hermes and a mutual friend with Annabeth, about two years ago, the twelve years old wasn't so terrified of monsters. Well, she never was, really, but she got to see the real world. She knew what it was like to fight monsters in life or death situations and not just for practice.

She remembered the days very well.

Luke had been offered a quest by his father. Well, not personally, but according to tío, Hermes wanted Luke to go to the garden of the Hesperides and get a golden apple like Heracles had once done.

Luke immediately took it, consulting the oracle.

He had went back down the attic ladder looking confused. He had said the oracle required him to bring only one other person along with him.

The Hermes boy had asked Dittany because she was the most skilled person in combat at camp, partly because of staying the longest there and partly because she trained relentlessly to spite her unknown mother for leaving her at the borders by herself.

They had travelled to San Francisco together, stopping every once and a while for take out food or fighting monsters.

When they were outside the garden, just about to enter, Luke had told her the prophecy.

SEEK THE LAND WHERE THE GREEKS ARE FORBIDDEN,

FOLLOW THE TRAIL OF THE HERO OF TWELVE LABORS,

ENTER THE ONCE SO BEAUTIFUL GARDEN,

FAIL TO PROCEED WHAT SHOULD BE DONE BY SCAR'S FORCE,

TAKE ONE COMPANION OR YOU'RE DOOMED FOR DEATH,

A DISTRACTION, AN ILLUSION, WILL FALL FOR THE THEFT

TAKE A CHANCE WITH FATE IN A HERO'S TRUE END

THE GAMBLE OF HERMES, A GAME OF PRETEND

Unlike Luke, Dittany caught a meaning to it. Well, the first part, at least. The demigods were never allowed in San Francisco unless for a quest because, apparently, it's where they're most likely to get killed off. They were doing one of the labors of Heracles. They were about to enter the garden of the Hesperides.

She didn't understand anything from the second part except that Luke needed one companion or he'd die and Hermes apparently had a gamble going on.

When they entered the garden, at first, Dittany didn't understand why it was only "once beautiful." It was mesmerizing, reminding her of those religious bible stories about the garden of Eden where Adam and Eve used to live before their sin. But the longer they looked around, she felt like a part of the place was missing. Like a song cover with missing lyrics. It could still be beautiful, but it just wasn't right without those missing parts.

Then they approached the hundred headed dragon, Luke warning her to stay put before he called signal so they could both have a role. Luke would distract while Dittany would go for the apple.

The whole time with the ordeal, Dittany felt like she was being watched.

In the end, Luke ended up with a scar running from above his eyebrow down to his jaw. Dittany had to step in the distraction to save him from the dragon's other claws that were going for a second strike and got Dittany's face and shoulder instead. It looked like three knife slashes on her face going diagonally and a scar from her shoulder to the small of her back.

They failed to steal a golden apple, but Dittany felt like they were meant to fail.

They came back with heavy injuries because of going back to camp and facing more monsters while they were already scarred. From then on tío banned quests, not wanting anymore heavy injuries.

Luke had felt like he ruined chances for everyone, but Dittany assured him that he didn't. She told him she should have kept with the plan because Luke could protect himself, but then Luke told her that he would have died without her.

Luke told her he also felt like his father was making fun of him for thinking he could do it, and Dittany silently agreed. But she didn't voice out her thoughts. She just hugged him and told him that one day, someone would clear for the camp and quests would be allowed again. Someday, things would get better.

But both Luke Castellan and Dittany Celeste knew that things only ever get worse for demigods.

Annabeth had taken it to herself to cheer up both of them, saying corny jokes that were so bad they were funny and reading random facts about architecture to distract them.

In the present, Dittany found herself smiling sadly. Luke was better now, and so was she, but sometimes the girl would find the sandy haired boy looking grim and trying to stop the tears.

She knew the boy wanted to make his father proud, prove that he was a hero, but instead he had failed. Dittany would walk up to him, sit on the seat next to him and make his head fall to her lap so that he could cry. She would never ask, because she already knew. She didn't whisper comforting words, because someone's presence and knowing they're there for you was enough.

Sometimes Annabeth would join them and would just tell silly stories where she describes the places in the story.

They would pretend they were a normal mortal family where Luke was their father who was overwhelmed with work and needed comfort and Annabeth would be the one to tell him about her day while Dittany made snacks. A normal, happy mortal family.

Dittany found herself following Mr Brunner— aka Chiron or tío— as he led the museum tour. Tío already knew she was there, and he played his part of acting like she always had been.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding the class through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew Dittany's mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand to three thousand years. What, with the gods' tempers and tendencies to destroy things? Wow.

He gathered them around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling them how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about their age. He told them about the carvings on the sides.

Dittany noticed Percy was trying to listen to what he had to say— she didn't really need to now— because it was kind of interesting for him, but everybody around was talking, and every time he told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs Dodds, would give him the evil eye.

Dittany would back him up discreetly by smirking at Mrs Dodds and playing with her sword's hilt that stuck out of her sheath, right at her waist, and was disguised as some chain belt in the mist. But the monster saw right through that mist and only settled for keeping away from her while keeping eyes on her weapon and on Percy.

Tío kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and before Dittany or Grover could stop him, Percy whirled around to face the redhead and said, "Will you shut up?"

Dittany had a feeling he had said that louder than he meant to. She silently watched him in pity as his face reddened from his own realization.

The group of kids laughed, tío stopped his story.

"Mr Jackson," he said, effectively adding more attention to the embarrassed boy, and making Dittany want to face palm at the centaur. "did you have a comment?"

"No, sir." Percy said, looking down to hide his face.

"Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

Damn it, tío, Dittany thought, but her lips were pursed.

Percy looked up with a face of recognition. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?" he said with uncertainty. Dittany looked away and curled her lip in disgust, remembering about reading the "myth."

"Yes," Chiron said, not sounding very impressed. The Celeste girl rolled her eyes. "And he did this because. . ."

"Well, Kronos was the king god and— " Dittany turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised, forgetting that he still didn't know he was a demigod yet and didn't think the Greek Myths were worth the read.

He caught her gaze and cleared his throat. "Titan. Titan.. Lord." he corrected himself.

Dittany nodded, looking away again.

He continued, "And... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eww!" said one of the girls behind Percy and Dittany, making the latter roll her eyes and smirk. She, too, was disgusted when she first read the story, but then she joked around about it just to annoy campers.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," Percy continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind them, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr Jackson," tío said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover and Dittany snickered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair. Grover only smirked and looked away and Dittany stuck her tongue out childishly.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Tío was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

Percy thought about his question, and shrugged. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Chiron looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover, Dittany and Percy were about to follow when Chiron said, "Mr Jackson."

Dittany internally face palmed, having been used to her tío's dramatic tendencies.

Meanwhile, Percy knew that was coming.

Dittany turned to Chiron with an are-you-fucking-serious-right-now look before heading outside with Grover.

When they reached the fountain, they started talking.

"Ten drachmas that tío'll be ominous again and confuse Percy," Dittany immediately said. Grover replied, "Twelve that he actually gives him a clue."

The scarred girl rolled her eyes, muttering with a smirk, "Yeah, right."

They sat in silence after that, waiting for the boy in question to come outside.

Dittany zoned out, staring at the water. She realized she looked like a stereotypical skater girl with a grey sleeved shirt under a black tee. Her ripped denim jeans were just a quick in-the-moment choice that Silena Beauregard, a close friend and her older half-brother's crush, would have not approved of. The sapphire eyed teen would have chosen black jeans to match the "aesthetic" or whatever the hell it was. Dittany just wanted something to wear.

The she caught sight of Percy approaching her and Grover. He sat down between them with a brooding look.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," Percy said, but he still looked grim. "Not from Brunner. I just wished he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean— I'm not a genius."

Grover didn't say anything for a while, and when he opened his mouth, Percy thought the boy was going to give some deep philosophical comment to make him feel better, but instead he said, "Can I have your apple?"

The raven haired boy didn't have much of an appetite, so he let him take it.

Dittany saw Percy look to the road with a longing expression, and she did, too. But her reason was the want to get hit by a car, feeling restless at just sitting. At least she'd have a reason to be still. She was hit by a moving vehicle! Of course she can't move right now!

As she mused the thought, Nancy Bobofit was suddenly in front of them, or maybe the Celeste girl just didn't notice the redhead approaching.

The bitch had the audacity to dump her lunch in Grover's lap, and Dittany felt her hands prick and warm up, like a flame about to ignite, but she quickly calmed herself. No one knew about that power. She wasn't going to let the secret out anytime soon.

Percy wasn't so calm.

Dittany swore the fountain's water had suddenly lurched forward, grabbed Nancy, and pulled her in the fountain.

Poseidon, Dittany thought immediately. You three gonna do this in order, she silently asked the three gods, Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. Thunder rumbled and the earth slightly shook beneath her feet. She rolled her eyes.

She was referring to Thalia Grace being the first child of a broken oath, and Percy now being the second. All she had to do was wait for a Hades child and it'd be a complete set. Thunder rumbled again, and the earth shook, but specifically only under her.

How terrifying, she thought sarcastically.

She was splashed by the fountain's water in the back, but her clothes were quickly made dry so Poseidon seemed innocent. She discreetly flipped off the god.

With her interactions with the three gods, she had missed Mrs Dodds taking Percy away and Grover looking at her with an exasperated look, like he knew exactly what she was doing.

When the brunette finally noticed that Percy Jackson, apparently the son of Poseidon, was gone, she looked to Grover with an eyebrow raised. He only shook his head worriedly.

She stood up and ran to her tío who was watching the museum doors worriedly. He took out a pen and looked ready to follow inside when he spotted Dittany.

Chiron handed her the pen and nodded, emphasizing she could get there quicker.

Dittany took it and ran up to the entrance, swinging the doors open and just in time as Mrs Dodds was ready to slash Percy to bits.

A fury!?, she thought furiously, hopefully sending her thoughts to the god of the underworld. How petty can you get, Hades?, she huffed.

"Percy, catch!" she yelled and tossed the pen in the air, the said boy whipping around to meet her dark eyes and catching the pen, watching it turn into a double edged celestial bronze sword.

Dittany would have taken out her own weapon to help, since a fury wasn't usually killed at first try, if Percy hadn't immediately sliced through the monster.

The girl's eyes widened but she didn't stay, immediately running out. She had a feeling Chiron would want Percy to think it was all just an illusion, so she immediately went back to the fountain with Grover, sending a quick thumbs up to her mentor.

She took the face towel Grover offered to dry her sweat, partly from running and partly from seeing the fury.

She sent a look to her tío, silently asking him if she should will the mist again to make up some new teacher, but he shook his head. He had it handled.

A few moments later, Percy came out of the museum looking dazed. It had already started raining, and Dittany was soaking while Grover hogged the only cover.

Percy said something to Nancy, and the girl looked at him like he was mad before scoffing and walking away. Then he walked over to Dittany and Grover.

"An," he immediately looked to Dittany. "Where's Mrs Dodds?" He wanted to know if this was a dream or not.

As was said earlier, Dittany was a great actress.

"Perce," she said slowly, emphasizing that she was trying to see signs if he was going insane. "Who the hell is that?"

Percy looked desperate.

"Mrs Dodds!" he exclaimed. "Our pre-algebra teacher!"

Dittany looked at him in concern. "Percy," she started. "We never had a teacher named Mrs Dodds."

Percy looked to Grover.

The raven haired boy would have believed it was all an illusion if Grover hadn't looked around nervously, like preparing to make an excuse, and said, "She's right, Perce. Are you okay?" in the most unconvincing voice ever.

Dittany mentally face palmed.

Percy looked to Dittany. "But.. You gave me the pen, only it wasn't a pen, it was a sword, and—" he raised his hand, which was holding a normal ball point pen. He looked at it with wide eyes suddenly, like it wasn't a pen the previous moment.

Dittany let her eyes widen, too, but to say, "Hey! That's mine!" in a playfully accusing tone. "Well, I only borrowed it from Mr Brunner.. But still!"

She snatched the pen from him, but the boy was still in shock.

The dark eyed girl ran to Chiron, quickly giving him the pen. She glanced back at Percy who looked to be in a crisis.

"What monster?" her tío silently asked.

"Kindly one." Dittany said simply.

Chiron heaved a breath and the demigod only shrugged.

"Could be worse, honestly."

And... she jinxed it.

tag list: @pallasdira ,

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Anaticula Pt 42

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 21b - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 -  Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 - Pt 30 - Pt 31 - Pt 33 - Pt 34 - Pt 35 - Pt 36 - Pt 37 - Pt 38 - Pt 39 - Pt 40 - Pt 41 -

“Hey Bernadette!”

Not two hours after your return home you sat on your bed cradling your seeing stone in your palms, through which you saw the elated red headed friend of your mother’s give a quick squeal, “Jaqi!”

“It’s not too late is it?”

She shook her head, “No, of course not, it’s noon here. What’s going on? I heard all bout your big win! Congratulations!”

With a weak chuckle you flashed her a grin then wet your lips to ask, “I was wondering about that offer of yours. For acting lessons.”

With a gasping squeal she asked, “You’re certain?!”

You nodded and grinned, “I think it’s about time I try to get over my audience problems. Performing for a camera might be easier than a crowd at first perhaps?”

She giggled and wiggled in her seat, “Oh this is such great timing! Oh I haven’t been able to write to you yet, though I am on my way tonight to England for a role.” She rolled her eyes, “Some pompous bitch of a boss, with,” she paused with a grin supposedly to amp you up, “An amazing assistant,” after another giggle she added, “It’s mainly silent but I am certain they would be tickled to give you the part.”

“You’re filming soon? They won’t mind?”

She shook her head, “No, in fact knowing I worked with Jewels they asked if I knew you, and I told them you were on the fence about performing. They usually leave the silent roles to last so with your name and clear natural talents they would be wasting their time choosing anyone but you. Besides, it is a perfect first role for you, to get your feet wet.”

“Ok, I um, I did write out a resume,” her brows inched up, “Well, I wrote down a whole bunch of skills that might possibly be useful for roles. Reads more like a lifetime achievement award, even put my grades on it, not sure why-,”

She giggled again, “Oh I am certain it is wonderful. When I get there I’ll come over and I can give it a once over. The film is in Wales though, so you might want to tell your Dad. It’s just for a couple weeks, at least for your part, the rest is mostly about some solitary painting scenes for my character for depth or something. It’ll all make sense later when it’s all pieced together.”

With a nod your plans were sealed, she came out and as your father had already agreed you were off to Wales. A hope that some acting lessons could help you in this was met approvingly by your relatives, Snape and Minerva. News that after the ordeal in the Tournament had an explosion of glee run rampant through the Pears back in France reading that you were dabbling into acting in a Wizarding film alongside a former co-star of your mother’s.  The family legacy was continuing and after hopefully a short production period they could add your first film to the family vault of projects they had accumulated over the years.

Truly you hadn’t missed much as Neville spent the weeks with his parents on their first vacation they took Nellie to Bath as they had been delving into their old favorite novels and hadn’t been since their honeymoon and wished to share their memories with their children.

Hermione was off with her parents to a convention and concert in Australia for a few weeks until she would return to stay with you for the rest of the summer to keep her busy and up on her reading while they worked.

Fred and George joined Ginny and Ron off with Molly on a mini family reunion to help their sick Great Aunt Tessie to get on her feet after hurting her foot in a fall in a gnome hole.

Leaving just Draco, who gladly kept up with writing to Astoria between days of alternated watches by Remus, Regulus and Sirius, who all caught glimpses of his models and novels he poured through between lessons with the violin and piano tutor Narcissa had employed again for him in the summer in his studio not far from your home.

Harry however was an entirely different dilemma. On the heels of the news that Percy had been promoted as Junior Assistant to Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore was asked to step down from the Wizengamot the air seemed to chill and the moonlit sky darkened.

…

I don't know about you, it's just too hot today, isn't it? And it's going to get even worse. Temperatures in the mid-30s Celsius...that's the mid-90s Fahrenheit, tomorrow, maybe even hitting 100. So, please, remember to cover up and stay cool... with the hottest hits on your FM dial.

“Come on, guys, time to go home.” A mother was helping her son of the swing set opposite Harry, “Come on, love, off you get.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, we do. I'll make you your favorite dinner to compensate.”

Dudley and his gang entered the park, “He squealed like a pig, didn't he?”

“Yeah, brilliant punch, Big D.”

“Did you see his face?”

Harry forced a smile onto his face, “Hey, Big D. Beat up another 10-year-old?”

Dudley, “This one deserved it.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. Five against one, very brave.”

Dudley fired back, “Well you’re one to talk. Moaning in your sleep every night? At least I’m not afraid of my pillow.”

“Don’t kill Jaqi!” One of the guy’s mocked out making even Dudley dry swallow remembering Petunia’s reaction when he had first had a nightmare about your being attacked.

The other asked “Who’s Jaqi? Your girlfriend?”

Harry, “Shut up.”

The second guy mocked, “He’s going to kill us, Mum.”

The first taunted, “Were is your Mum Potter?”

“She dead?” Dudley’s eyes dropped to the ground unwilling to stop the guys around him. The wind picking up and burst of cold air circling them snapped his eyes up again.

“What’s going on?”

Dudley, “What are you doing?”

Harry shook his head, “I’m not doing anything.”

The guys turned to flee, “We’re getting out of here Dudley.”

Fleeing from what they took as a storm Dudley’s gang took off leaving their leader, who raced the other way, wheezing in the corner of a tunnel on the edge of the park Harry had been sitting alone in on the swings lost in thought about that graveyard.

.

Guiding Dudley back again after using his Patronus to fend off the Dementors Harry paused in the street at the familiar small woman formerly used as his sitter in his time with the Dursleys when work called. “Mrs. Figg.”

“Don't put away your wand, Harry. They might come back. Dementors in Little Whinging, whatever next? Whole world's gone topsy-turvy.” She turned to escort Harry.

“I don't understand. How do you know...?”

“Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“Dumbledore asked you? You know Dumbledore?”

“After You-Know-Who returned and Jaqi Black was attacked last year...did you expect him to let you go wandering on your own? Good Lord, boy. They told me you were intelligent. Now, get inside and stay there. Expect someone will be in touch soon. Whatever happens, don't leave the house.”

Harry nodded and led him up the walk and into the house where Petunia asked, “Diddykins? Is that you?” Standing up she moved from the dining room into a clear view of the pair making her mouth drop open at Dudley in his clammy appearance, “Duddy. Vernon, come quick.”

Vernon came around the corner open mouthed saying, “We’re going to have to take him to a Hospital. Who did this to you boy?”

Harry answered, “It was a Dementor.”

Petunia looked him over, “A what?”

Harry wet his lips as Dudley was moved into the dining room table, “A Dementor, it’s um, he’ll be fine, just needs something to pep him up a bit. The effects will wear off.”

Vernon, “And what in the meantime? Just leave him like this?!”

Harry wet his lips and fumbled his hands in his pockets until he found a duck keychain you had given him, “I’ll call Jaqi, she’ll know what they gave us at school.”

Vernon, “What does your school have to do with this?!”

Petunia watched him squeeze the charm you had given him to call you, “Is that a curse? A Dementor?”

Harry shook his head only to watch an owl fly in through the window with a Howler in his beak he let loose that stated without being opened, “Dear Mr. Potter.” The door under the stairs opened itself dropping Petunia’s mouth only to see you climb out of it through a charm you had left there in one of your earlier trips.

“The Ministry has received intelligence that at 6:23 this evening you performed the Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle. As a clear violation of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hoping you are well, Mafalda Hopkirk.”

The letter tore itself up and you asked making Vernon jump not realizing you were there, “Patronus?” You looked at Harry, who was choosing to not ask why you were in thick makeup, tall heels and a long sleeved and pocketed green dress over thick tights with your hair set in elegant waves tucked back revealing your scar was being hidden. “What happened?”

“There were two Dementors, out near the park.”

You nodded and looked to Dudley waving your hand to summon a bar of chocolate you carried over to him. Gently you helped him up, “Come on Dudley.” On his feet he whimpered and you led him to the couch then turned to charm the channel to one of his favorite shows stirring a hint of a grin onto his face as you crouched in front of him unwrapping part of the chocolate bar, “Now, you just snack on this and enjoy your show. Much better soon enough.”

He nodded and accepted the chocolate as you stood and moved to Petunia and Vernon in the dining room still wide eyed, Vernon, “Chocolate? That’s all?”

“A Dementor is a creature that feeds on your happy thoughts leaving you with your most frightening and dreaded moments of your life. They’re under the control of the Ministry, how one let alone two got here is puzzling, though I promise you the effects are temporary and should wear off in a half hour or so after the attack. He seems better already. Don’t panic, all they’ll say is he had a panic attack or something when he bounced back in the Hospital.”

Harry looked you over as Petunia asked, “Were, you at a party?”

You shook your head, “No, one of Mum’s friends got me a bit in her film, which, I should get back, they think I’m getting some air.” Looking to Harry you said, “Wait here, just another hour or so on set and I’ll be back we can talk it all out.”

He nodded then you paused at his body shifting at your step back to the door, “A film? I thought you hated performing.”

You rolled your eyes, “Give me an hour, I’ll explain.” Looking to Petunia you said, “Just let him relax. Back in a bit.”

.

You did come back, and in the weeks of silence from Ron and Hermione along with everyone else Harry sat up in his room waiting out until he would be taken back to the Grimmauld  Place entrance. His hope being that it was true when you had said he couldn’t be expelled without a hearing first and that Dumbledore would handle that.

Freshly scrubbed without a trace of makeup and scars fully visible in boots, jeans and a sweater you sat with the family calming them all down until you said you had to go. No explanation as to where or why he couldn’t go off to your home right then, just stating you had somewhere you needed to be, leaving him in some odd silent limbo with Hedwig nowhere in sight.

***

Shakily you inhaled and outside a dilapidated manor you approached the gate alongside Lucius and Regulus. Your film role having ended the day prior, a last minute flight had brought you here. Mustering up your courage you eyed the familiar Death Eaters along the way, Igor, Barty, Snape included.

Straight through the halls with their dilapidated illusion dropping into pristine condition until a wing backed chair in front of a fireplace was in front of you. A crossed leg with a raised bare foot left your view and Riddle was standing in front of you with hand extended welcoming you into the chair across from him. All about the Tournament was shared and intently he stared at you until you got up to the graveyard again.

“I am curious, why join me? With all you have achieved in facing off against Fudge? Proving yourself to be of such impeccable moral fiber.”

A smirk eased onto your lips and you said, “Fudge has it coming, the coward, besides, what better cover than the hardworking youngest member of the prestigious Black family. Think of how useful that cover could be.”

“I have.” Looking over your shoulder he locked eyes with Barty, “It appears you were right Barty.” With a sigh he rose and motioned for you to do the same guiding you through the halls, in which you caught sight of a familiar long pursued criminal, Fenrir Greyback, the man himself who had first infected Remus. Now watching your every move intently with his group of werewolves behind him, “Every one of my followers must be put to the test, no matter their, relation, to me.” Emphasizing the word relation with a glance your way to see your reaction at his using it again.

At the end of the hall you eyed the dining hall with a restraint table in the center with split off sections for your arms coated with bindings of thick enchanted leather straps and uncharmable metal buckles. The very look of the hall making your stomach clench. Leaning in until he felt his lips starting to heat up barely inches from your ear he whispered in Parseltongue, “Let us see if your loyalty to kin is greater than that blood traitorous mother of yours.” Stepping into the room you eyed the table as he said, “Narcissa, prepare her.”

Heels clicked behind you with the door sealing after, hurrying to your side she raised a backless shirt from her bag she helped you into once you removed your sweater and bra. Softly in raising a ice scented leaf to your lips saying, “Chew and swallow this.” In your eyes looking over hers she said, “It severs emotions temporarily and dries out your tear ducts. You’ll need it. Deep breath and climb up.”

With a nod you followed the instructions and laid out on your stomach while she strapped your arms out at your side, your legs together were strapped down as you felt the clear sever of your emotions ceasing your looming panic attack at the filling of the room. No emotions, no tears. A sharp burn landed on your left forearm and the rule was named for you, ‘you cry you die’.

Upon placing the mark on your skin it would bleed and burn for two straight weeks and if a single tear was shed the mark would start to gush blood until you bled out. In failed tries not to scream out the pain was too much to hold off in the first few days. Though each time seemed more and more agitating for Riddle to bear often having him lapping the room to avoid watching it all. 

In and out of consciousness your back was at their mercy with your relatives giving the most convincing attacks on you to ward any others off trying to top them. Every marked Death Eater was welcome to a turn, though a small group only chose to do so under Riddle’s watch. Hours he would monologue missing the leaves your relatives would slip you before you would be left alone in the silent empty room.

***

A week came and went and a knock sounded on the front door on Privet Drive that pulled Harry from helping Petunia with folding the laundry to answer. Opening the door he saw the front entrance to the Black Family Home parting his lips with Remus there, “Hello Harry.”

“Hi. Um, Why didn’t Jaqi come?”

Remus grinned, “She’s not back yet.”

Harry nodded in his confusion, then turned to hurry upstairs, “I’ll get my trunk.”

In his absence Remus introduced himself to Petunia and chatted with her until Harry came back joining him through the door that closed and broke its link with the home Petunia checked by glancing through the mail slot. Inside the main hall Harry asked, “Where is everyone?”

Remus, “Oh, little bit of everywhere. You’ve missed a great deal Harry.”

Harry, “Like what?”

Remus, “Well, we’ve had a great deal of Aurors visiting lately.”

Harry, “Aurors?”

Remus, “From the old order.” Guiding him into the sitting room his bags were floated up to his room while Remus spread out the papers with headlines slandering a great deal of people, Harry, you and Dumbledore included. “Fudge has been busy trying to discredit all he can.”

Harry, “Why is he doing this?”

Remus, “He’s afraid Dumbledore is after his job.”

Harry, “No one in their right mind would believe that.”

Remus, “Fudge isn’t in his right mind. It’s been twisted and warped by fear. Now, fear makes people do terrible things, Harry. The last time Riddle was in power he nearly destroyed all we held dear. And the Ministry will do all in their power to hide from that terrifying truth. Riddle is back and no doubt amassing followers again, meaning we need to recruit as well.”

Harry, “Well if you’re building an army I want to fight!”

Remus sighed, “Let us hope we can avoid your taking part at all. First things first, Dumbledore has been reinstating the old Order.”

Harry, “Order of the Phoenix? That my parents were in?”

Remus chuckled, “We were all in it, but yes. See, Harry, there’s something, we believe, before he would try to come after you, that he would be searching for.”

Harry, “Like a weapon?”

Remus’ head tilted sideways, “In a way. Over all it’s useless, but Riddle put weight in it, so we will have to continue protecting it.”

Harry, “What is it?”

Remus, “A prophecy.”

Harry’s lips parted, “You mean like the one he heard to make him come after my parents?”

Remus, “The very same. He may believe he missed something in it, a way to protect himself again. But, prophecies are tedious and often grey matter. For now, you just relax, Draco should be home soon from the piano to keep you company and the others along in a day or two.”

Harry, “What about my expulsion?”

Remus chuckled, “Your trial will be in front of the entire Wizengamot in a few days. Arthur is going to take you most likely.”

A familiar picture on the table lured Harry to reach out for it, all the Marauders, Lily, Jewels and even you on Sirius’ chest asleep and even Alastor and Snape as well near Remus, “Original Order of the Phoenix. Marlene McKinnon. She was killed two weeks after this was taken. Voldemort wiped out her entire family. Frank and Alice Longbottom. Neville's parents. They suffered a fate worse than death, you ask me. It's been 14 years. And still a day doesn't go by I don't miss your parents. Then Jewels…”

Harry, “Do you really think there's going to be a war?”

Remus, “It feels like it did before. You keep it. Anyway, I suppose you're the young ones now.”

..

Arthur, “Trains. Underground. Ingenious, these Muggles.” Past the gates he got held up in for a moment due to uncertainty on how to pay the fare Arthur led the way through the tunnels and then out to the streets again for a winding path straight to a phone booth he stepped up to. “Here we are.” Harry glanced around then squeezed in with him, “I've never used the visitors' entrance before. Should be fun.”

Through the bustling crowds Harry caught on to a jumble of conversations, “Terrible. Lost a lot of Galleons trading on the potions market.”

“Daily Prophet, ladies and gentlemen. Anybody for Daily Prophet?” A teen selling papers cried out.

Instantly Harry’s eyes dropped to the title reading ‘Dumbledore: Is he daft, or is he dangerous?’

Through a black shining tile lined hallway full of green flashing floo entrances Harry held his pace at Arthur’s side only to peer up at the towers of glass wrapped offices looking over the indoor fountains with golden statues inside under a tall clock. Straight for a lift they walked and Harry raised his eyes to the floating paper airplane memos floating above their heads. Arthur eyed the man entering beside them, “Morning, Arthur.”

Nodding his head he replied, “Morning, Bob.” In a sideways lurch followed by a shot up Arthur caught Harry’s glance at the memos, “Interdepartmental memos. We used to use owls. Mess was unbelievable.” At the next stop of the lift Kingsley entered and passed Arthur a note, “Merlin's beard. Thank you, Kingsley. They've changed the time of your hearing.”

Harry, “When is it?”

Arthur, “In five minutes.”

The voice in the lift announced your next stop, “Department of Mysteries.”

Lucius next to Fudge spoke in a hushed tone, continuously glancing at his watch to ensure he got back to you quickly, “And I'm confident, Minister, that you will do the right thing.”

Fudge, “Yes, but we must be...” The pair stopped talking when they saw the pair passing them by heading for the waiting room Harry was expected in until he was called out.

Arthur, “Remember, during the hearing, speak only when you're spoken to. Keep calm. You've done nothing wrong. As the Muggles say, truth will out. Yes?” Harry nodded confirming the phrase, “I'm not allowed in, I'm afraid. Good luck, Harry.” The doors opened and Harry stood at his name being called leaving Arthur seated on the bench alone in the room.

.

Fudge, “Disciplinary hearing of the 12th of July, into offenses committed by Harry James Potter resident at Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic...Witness for the defense.”

His eyes rose to Dumbledore, who stood from his seat stating his name, “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

Fudge, “You got our message that the time and place of the hearing had been changed, did you?”

Dumbledore broke his joined hands apart in an aloof wave off to his sides, “I must have missed it. But by a happy mistake, I arrived at the Ministry three hours early. The charges?”

Fudge, “The charges against the accused are as follows: "That he did knowingly and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions produce a Patronus Charm in the presence of a Muggle."

Auror, “Do you deny producing said Patronus?”

Harry, “No, but...”

Auror, “And you were aware that you were forbidden to use magic outside school while under the age of 17?”

Harry, “Yes, I was, but...”

Fudge, “Witches and Wizards of the Wizengamot...”

Harry, “I was only doing it because of the Dementors.”

Fudge let out a disbelieving chuckle matched by a few around him, “Dementors? In Little Whinging?”

Umbridge, “Highly convenient.”

Harry, “I'm not lying. There were two of them, if I hadn't...”

Fudge, “Enough. I'm sorry to interrupt what I'm sure would be a very well-rehearsed story but since you can produce no witnesses of the event...”

Dumbledore, “Pardon me, minister, but as it happens, we can.”

Fudge’s face dropped and Mrs Figg was shown onto the witness chair Harry emptied to move into the stands behind him. “Please describe the attack. What did they look like?”

Mrs Figg, “Well, one of them was very large and the other rather skinny.”

Fudge, “Not the boys. The Dementors.”

Mrs Figg, “Oh, right, right. Well, big. Cloaked. Then everything went cold...as though all the happiness had gone from the world.”

Fudge, “Now, look here. Dementors don't just wander into a Muggle suburb and happen across a wizard. The odds are astronomical.”

Dumbledore, “I don't think anyone would believe the Dementors were there by coincidence, minister.”

Umbridge cleared her throat then let out a faint giggle, “I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor. Dementors are, after all, under the control of the Ministry of Magic. And it's so silly of me, but it sounded for a moment as though...you were suggesting that the Ministry had ordered the attack on this boy.”

Dumbledore, “That would be disturbing indeed, Madam Undersecretary which is why I'm sure the Ministry will be mounting a full-scale inquiry into why the two Dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they mounted an attack without authorization. Of course, there is someone who might be behind the attack. Cornelius, I implore you to see reason. The evidence that the Dark Lord has returned is incontrovertible.”

Fudge spat back making Harry’s eyes narrow at the clear fear in his expression, “He is not back.”

Dumbledore, “In the matter of Harry Potter the law clearly states that magic may be used before Muggles in life-threatening situations.”

Fudge, “Laws can be changed if necessary, Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore, “Clearly. Has it become practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic?”

Fudge’s eyes narrowed, “Those in favor of conviction?” His, and a few others raised their hands, Lucius not included, who glared across at Umbridge who sent a sneer his way. “Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?” The remainder of those who had not voted already raised their hands and Fudge sighed, “Cleared of all charges.” A slam of the gavel and it was all through with Dumbledore storming out as Fudge did the same.

On his feet Harry turned around softly asking to himself, “Professor?”

At the door opening again Arthur entered with a grin saying, “Harry, let’s get you back home, hmm?” Harry nodded and hurried over to him eager to leave this place hoping that his friends would be back soon.

Pt 43

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

The Life Of Luke Castellan

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

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

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

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

Luke spent two years of homelessness alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

Luke and Thalia are homeless together for three years. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luke challenges every monster they come across. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luke finds Quintus (Daedalus) and they speak several times. Luke tries to persuade him to join Kronos. Luke asks him how to get through the Labyrinth. Quintus tells him that a mortal with clear sight can do it. Luke doesn’t like that answer and tries to find other ways. 

Luke sends solo explorers through the Labyrinth because the larger the group, the easier it is to get lost. As far as we can tell, none of them returned. Luke has a map but it isn’t working. He goes to Quintus and gets the String of Ariadne to help navigate the Labyrinth. 

Although Luke was previously buying demigods and accepting defects before that, they must now fight to join the army. 

When Percy, Annabeth, and Rachel stumble upon Luke in the Labyrinth, Luke is so busy staring at Percy that he doesn’t notice Annabeth until she shouts his name. 

Luke arranges it so that Percy and Antaeus fight to the death. He knows that Percy will win, killing Antaeus and allowing his army free passage through the territory.

Luke orders his monsters to kill everyone (quickly) except Annabeth. He wants to speak to her before the upcoming battle. He doesn’t even rise from his seat to relay the order and Kelli is thrown into his lap when Mrs. O’Leary is summoned by Percy. 

Annabeth notes that Luke looked nervous. 

Luke turns on Quintus, sending Minos directly to him. 

One day after the fight in the Labyrinth, Luke becomes the host for Kronos. Percy finds him lying in the golden coffin, looking very dead. There’s a hole in his chest, black and right where his heart should have been. 

Kronos awakens in Luke’s body. His chest is mended and his eyes are gold. He says that Luke feared Percy, that his jealousy and hatred have kept Luke obedient. 

When Rachel Elizabeth Dare threw a hairbrush at Kronos/Luke, it was Luke’s voice that said ow. 

Kronos/Luke do not lead the attack against Camp Half-Blood. 

Luke continuously fights against Kronos in his body. It’s noted by Ethan Nakamura that Kronos should be fully settled into Luke’s body by the following summer. 

Kronos leads the first wave against the demigods in Manhattan. Luke is not mentioned. 

At the bottom of the Empire State Building, Kronos leads his army. Chiron and Kronos/Luke fight. Chiron says that Luke was a good hero before Kronos corrupted him. Kronos says that Chiron filled Luke’s head with empty promises and then Luke broke through and said “you said the gods cared about me!” 

Annabeth attacks Kronos and says that she hates him. Kronos admires Annabeth’s spirit and says he sees why Luke wanted to spare her. 

Kronos destroys Olympus with the scythe Backbiter as he travels to the throne room. He does this because he promised Luke that he would tear down Olympus brick by brick. 

Kronos looks just like Luke, offering up the same sweet smile to Percy and Annabeth that he did while welcoming Percy to Camp. 

Kronos doesn’t hesitate to fight Percy. He touches Zeus’ throne and gets electrocuted, face covered in burns and hair smoldering. 

Kronos opens a fissure in the ground and Ethan falls through the sky. 

Kronos announces that Luke Castellan is dead and his body will burn away as Kronos assumes his true form. Annabeth knows that Luke has been fighting Kronos the entire time. Kronos/Luke is disarmed and Backbiter falls into the hearth fire.

When Luke sees the blood on Annabeth’s face, he regains control of his body. Kronos is ready to shed Luke’s body like a chrysalis but Luke pleads for Percy to give him Annabeth’s dagger and so that he can kill himself. Kronos burns his hands trying to pick up Backbiter. 

Luke begs until Percy gives him Annabeth’s dagger. He stabs himself in the armpit, which is where his mortal spot is. Kronos is banished from Luke’s body.

Luke’s entire left side is bloody. His eyes are blue again. He’s dying. Luke is in a lot of pain. He tells them that he’s going to go for rebirth and try for Elysium three times so that he can reach the Isles of the Blest.

Luke asks Annabeth if she loved him. She says like a brother. Luke is satisfied with this answer. He tells Grover that he’s the bravest Satyr ever. Luke grasps Percy with a hand still hot and burnt and begs him not to let it happen again. Percy promises that he won’t let this happen again.

At age 22, Luke Castellan dies.  

[cabinofimagines]

Happiness In Strange Places Pt. 2

Requests: Part two of this imagine was sent in on multiple occasions so here it is

Pairing: SingleParent!Leo x Nanny!Reader

Fluff | Smut | Angst

A/n: This is soo bad, I’m tired and I honestly couldn’t give two fucks about how well this is liked, peace out bitches, I’m going to bed. -Day

"I'll... I'm just gonna go. Thanks for hanging out with me, though."

His warm and calloused hand entrapped your soft and reasonably small hand in his own, "Wait!" His mouth moved on its own and --he guessed-- his mind was made up.

"I think I love you too."

You stood motionless, did he just say he loved you? No... he said he thinks he loves you.

"Don't," You managed to get out, "Please just... don't."

Leo looked up at you in bewilderment, his grip slowly slipping from your hand as he lost all the confidence he had collected earlier. A scoff escaped his lips as he looked away, his hand dropping from yours and finding its way to his curly locks. His mind now polluted with thoughts of negativity, why would you even confess to him if you weren't going to accept him? Did you just prank him? No, you looked so sincere and embarrassed when you confessed. If this was a prank, then you were a damn good actor.

His blood boiled in anger the more he thought about the whole ordeal. This was absurd, you confessed to him so why are you dismissing his feelings like they were nothing; as if he were nothing. His emotions that swirled throughout his entire being confused him greatly, his heart ached with sorrow of a lost love, his pride bore a gaping hole from rejection, yet, he was furious.

"Is this seriously how it's going to be?" His voice held a venomous bite that was entirely new to you. His hands curling into tight fists as he tried to control himself.

This new side of him had scared you more than anything, was he really not the man you remembered? You watched his knuckles turn white and small sparks ignite from his fists, hesitantly you placed your hand delicately on his shoulder in hopes to console him.

You retracted your hand with a hiss, his shoulder was hot to the touch and you could tell he was seriously upset.

"Leo," You mumbled carefully, "You need to calm down, let's talk about this--" Your speech was cut short due to the surprise grab Leo made for you. His hands wrapped around your forearms as he slammed his lips to yours in what felt like panic.

You could feel his nervousness and his temper as he kissed you, his lips trembling and hot as his lips danced across your own. The kiss itself was short lived due to the fact that he was still mad and when he was mad, he was hot. Not hot in the term of being attractive, but hot in the term of heat.

You shoved him away harshly and let out a rather loud yelp of pain as you doubled over. Leo furrowed his brows in confusion, "What? Why do you keep pushing me away?"

You looked up at him with an angry glare, Holding your arms against your stomach while they stung with pain. "You fucking burned me that's why."

The deep regret and panic you saw in his eyes did not deter your mood in the slightest, still glaring hard at him while you made your way to the kitchen sink to cool off your burns under the water. You let out a soft whimper as the cool water soothed your aching arms.

Leo hadn't moved from his spot, sitting on the couch you had pushed him onto when he burned you. He burned you. He promised himself when he was just a child that he would never hurt someone he cared about with his abilities, not after what he did to his mom.

Noah padded into the living room clad in his black jogging pants, a red t-shirt with a white faded band name on it, and his mismatched striped socks. Leo turned his attention to the little boy rubbing his tired eyes, mentally cooing at his son's "big boy" attire.

"Daddy? Are you mad?" Noah innocently questioned as he peered curiously at his father's sitting form. His question took Leo off guard but Leo answered him nonetheless, "No, mijo. I'm just confused about some things, no need to worry."

Of course, his son inherited his mother's never-ending care for others and kept prodding at his father's feelings, "About what? Do you wanna talk about it?" Leo grinned at his son, he was rather smart for his age and tended to repeat what others have said to him, he guessed he got this phrase from Y/n.

"I'm just confused about my feelings right now, I'll be okay, though," Leo reached his hand out to muss Noah's hair, "It's late, mijo, let's get you back to bed."

Leo stood up from the couch with a soft groan and a small stretch, he bent down to lift Noah onto his hip while he carried the sleepy boy back to his bed. Leo knelt down onto the small bed and placed the small child back into his comfy bed. He tucked Noah in gently, brushed back his curly mop of brown hair, and kissed his forehead.

Before Leo could say goodnight and go back to the living room to hopefully apologize to Y/n, Noah had called out to him in a timid voice, "Daddy?" Leo looked back at Noah, leaning against the doorframe as he listened, "Hm?" It was hard to see how much Noah's tiny body fidgeted with nervousness as he asked ever so quietly, "Can I call Y/n mommy? She's real nice and takes good care of me. She even kisses me goodnight when you can't!"

Leo's eyes widened and his mouth went agape, he could hardly fathom the thought of Noah actually WANTING to have a mom. Noah has been content with just having a dad for as long as he could remember, he's always just wanted a dad and nothing more, or at least that's what Leo thought. He's imagined many different times and had many dreams that his and Noah's small family were complete, but never once did he think Noah would want Y/n as his mom. Leo cleared his throat, "That's up to you, bud. If you feel that way then it's up to you, just..." Leo paused and looked down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in guilt, "Just don't get upset if she doesn't like it, okay?"

Noah slowly nodded and slunk back down underneath his Bob the Builder blankets-- a gift from his Uncle Percy. Having said goodnight to Noah, Leo shuts the door and stalks off to the living room couch to once more slump down in his own shame.

Meanwhile, Y/n had taken a seat on the kitchen stools and contemplated her next move. You knew that you had confused Leo to the point of anger with your change of feelings, but you didn't want a relationship out of pity. How could you approach him now that he's upset? You mulled over these thoughts for a good while until you decided it was in both of your best interests to sort this out now. You nervously peek around the corner of the kitchen wall and make sure Leo is calmed down. Once you scan his body for any noticeable heat marks with your eyes, you make your way into the living room, sitting down on the couch and alerting him of your presence.

He didn't look up at you and even moved away from you when you sat down. "Hey," You muttered, "I know you didn't mean to hurt me." Leo shook his head and scoffed at your words, "Why is it always you?"

You furrowed your brows in confusion, reaching out hesitantly to touch his arm, "What?" You scooted closer, testing your limits. Leo didn't seem to notice your movement but retreated away from your touch, "It's always you," his voice cracked in emotion, hurting your heart as he continued, "I always lose control around you, I've never hurt you before though and I promised I'd never h-hurt anyone with my abilities, not again."

Leo hid his face in his hands while mumbling somewhat incoherently, "I didn't mean to hurt you... I'm sorry." Your heart drops and so does your face, "Aw Leo," You croon, "It's not as bad as it seems. It just shocked me that's all," Your hand reaches out shyly to smooth down his curls, not making a difference of his wild curls. He flinched away from your touch, looking up at you with a gaze that looked more hurt than a kicked puppy.

"Your arm is red, it's scarred and it's all my fault," His eyes started welling up with tears, "I love you, Y/n. But all I do is hurt you. When I left, when I was with Calypso, when I lost contact with you... How could you still love me?"

Your hand slid down to his cheek, resting there and turning his sorrow filled face towards you, thumb wiping away the stray tears that fell without his permission. You leaned forward and kissed him on his lips, slowly to savor the taste of him. The faint taste of root beer he drank earlier in the day lingered on his lips, mixing excellently alongside the sweet taste that was none other than the original taste of Leo.

You withdrew from the kiss, answering his question before you dived back in for yet another kiss, "Because you're Leo Valdez, my best friend and the only man I've ever loved. I will love you always"

.

.

.

[novemberocean]

Lighter Than Black 7

STILL SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 85 AND ON. Kynan and Cassandra go on a date :>

(pt1)(pt2)(pt3)(pt4)(pt5)(pt6)

AO3

Now that everyone was safe from the Chroma Conclave, the world was tentatively moving forward. Especially Whitestone, which had had its population decimated by vampires, even before the dragons reared their ugly heads. The refugees from Eamon were happy to return home, but a few familys had petitioned the council for citizenship. A request Cassandra was only too happy to approve.

It was two days after Scanlan's resurrection that Cassandra took Kynan on a date about town. She had cleared her schedule, and made it clear that unless her brother was dead again, she was not to be disturbed. She was with Kynan, so she didn't need any guards to follow her about. Besides, she dressed in her casual breeches with her mother's rapier hung at her hip.

She doubted Kynan knew this was a date. That was alright, she just wanted to spend some time with him outside of the castle. He didn’t ask where they were going, which was good, because she didn't know. She thought maybe she'd get some frivolous shopping done, but to be honest, it had been a long time since she had done anything like that. What did girls buy? Ribbons?

"Did Vox Machina say where they were going?" Kynan asked, interrupting Cassandra's personal crisis.

"They were to give Ripley's hand to the criminals in Ank'arel," Cassandra said. "Although I was uncertain as to whether it was a flesh hand or her mechanical one."

"It could have been either honestly," Kynan muttered, grinning. He had come a long way from when he first arrived. He had been very closed off, hunched shoulders and head down. Now he stood tall, head up and looking around. His hands were in his pockets, but his shoulders were straight. And broad. Strong.

Cassandra blushed and tried to hide the fact that she had been staring at him by looking around. That’s when she heard the Sun Tree open.

It was a singular kind of sound. At festivals like Winters Crest, Cassandra had seen strong men pull logs apart with their bare hands for show. It was that kind of sound, with a magical tingle that tickled the back of your head. Cassandra and Kynan hurried to the town square to watch Vox Machina tumble out of the tree... Along with two other people.

Percy was holding the shoulders of a middle-aged man, who looked both delighted and nauseated at the same time. Grog was sizing up the other figure, who appeared to be a golem of some sort. It held the world's largest journal.

Kynan looked at Cassandra, a question in his eyes. She just shrugged. She didn't know what to make of the new additions either. The man was wearing the fanciest armor she had ever seen outside of an adventure novel. It didn't look like it got much use.

Normally, she might have gone up to her brother, and asked what was going on. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grog lean down and whisper to Vax'ildan while the shiny armor was talking to her brother. Vax flashed the goliath a simply evil grin before smoothing his features into something neutral. Grog then hailed the armored gentleman; Tary Jumbo apparently.

"I'm Tary, you're Jumbo," the man, Tary, corrected.

Vex'ahlia then peeled off towards the castle on her broom, while the others began to herd Tary and the golem away.

"Let's follow them," Cassandra said.

"Good idea," Kynan replied.

They hung back, as to not draw attention to themselves. Even stopping at a few street stalls along the way. Kynan pulled her to face him, positioning them so he could watch where Vox Machina was going. They seemed to be leading the newbies out of town. Cassandra took the opportunity to study Kynan's face.

Kynan had scars on his face from the fight with Ripley. They were fading, but they would probably always be a reminder of that time. She wonders if he avoids mirrors like she does. Fearing she'll see Delilah in the curve of her cheek instead of her mother's smile. Her fingers itched to touch his face, but she didn't want to startle him. She did grab his hand as they moved a little closer to Vox Machina.

She kept hold of him as they stopped at the edge of the city. Vox Machina had dragged Tary into the middle of a field. Percy and Keyleth stood a few feet away, while Vax and Grog flanked Tary... Uh oh. She knew that formation.

"Did... They bring someone home to kill him?" Kynan wondered aloud.

"They wouldn't," Cassandra said, but she sounded pretty unsure of that fact. And then Grog grew 10 feet and Vax smacked Tary in the back of the head. Kynan made an amused noise that wasn't quite a laugh.

"I know that move," he said, pointing at Vax with an odd smile on his face. "He calls it 'The Kynan'. After it nearly killed me."

Cassandra tore her eyes away from the fight to cast a worried glance at Kynan. He just looked at her with that same strange smile, and shrugged his shoulders. He squeezed her hand and Cassandra had to look back at the fight, hoping the blush didn't show.

It was less of a fight and more of a smack down. Tary was making the most awful bleating sounds. It was a little pitiful, and the whole ordeal was over before it really began. Vax held Tary as he cried, big, ugly tears. Cassandra felt bad for the guy. Kynan was laughing though and Cassandra glared at him. He coughed, embarrassed.

"He paid them for adventure, they're just hazing the guy," he explained.

"How do you know that?" She asked, they were easily 15 feet away.

"I can read lips," Kynan shrugged. Cassandra raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"Like Vex?" She asked, and Kynan blushed.

"I'm sure I'm nowhere near her level," he said. Cassandra grabbed his other hand and looked into his eyes.

"That's--" she started, but Trinket suddenly cannonballed into the middle of the group and an irate Vex'ahlia followed soon after. No matter the upbringing, the sound of a bear suddenly appearing and roaring, would startle anyone. Cassandra's hand went to her rapier, and Kynan pulled a knife out of nowhere and moved in front of Cassandra. She rolled her eyes.

"We should get back to our date," she said without thinking. "They appear to be ready to drink the day away, as per usual..." She trailed off when she realized Kynan was staring at her. It took her a second to realize what she had just said. Her eyes went wide as she desperately tried to come up with an excuse.

Kynan was very quiet as he put away his dagger. She wanted him to say something, anything that would free her from this awkward hell. He didn't though, he just started walking back toward town. Cassandra fell into step beside him, internally screaming.

"So..." Kynan finally broke the silence when they got to main street. "This is a date?" He asked in a hopeful voice. She shot her a bashful smile that, damn her foolish heart, made her breath catch.

"Yes," she said, reassured by his tone. She took his hand again.

"Cool," Kynan replied.