#but dude like i already half expect to hallucinate at any given time like my brain cannot be trusted atm

[nexttothelamp]

...

[decennia]

i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 5

(Y/n)'s POV

I have weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food.

I must've woken up several times, but what I hear and see makes no sense, so I just pass out again. I remember lying in a soft bed and spoon-fed something that tasted like (Favorite/Food), only it's like pudding. The girl with curly blond hair hovers over me, smirking as she scrapes drips off my chin with the spoon.

When she sees my eyes open, she asks, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

"What?" I manage to croak.

She looks around, as is afraid someone would overhear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry," I slur, "I don't . . ."

Somebody knocks on the door, and the girl quickly fills my mouth with the pudding.

. . .

The next time I wake up, the girl is gone.

A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stands in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He has blue eyes - at least a dozen of them - on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

When I come around for good, there is nothing weird about my surroundings, except they are nicer than I am used to. I am sitting in a deck chair next to Percy - who was looking at me with concern - on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smells like strawberries. There is a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that is great, but my mouth feels like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue is dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.

On the table next to me is a tall drink. It looks like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol sticks through a maraschino cherry.

My hand is so weak I almost drop the glass once I get my fingers around it.

"Careful," says a voice.

Grover is leaning against the porch railing, looking as though he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradles a shoebox. He is wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops, and a bright orange t-shirt that says CAMP HALF-BLOOD.

"You two saved my life," Grover says. "I...well, the least I could do...I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

Reverently, he places the shoebox in Percy's lap.

Inside is a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood.

It hadn't been a nightmare. My mother was gone.

"The Minotaur," Percy asks.

"Um, Percy, it isn't a good idea -" Grover gets cut off.

"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" Percy demands. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."

Grover shifts uncomfortably. "You two have been out for two days. How much do you remember?"

"Mom," I say softly. "Is she really . . ."

Grover looks down.

I stare across the meadow. There is a grove of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley is surrounded by rolling hills, and the tallest one, directly in front of us, is the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looks beautiful in the sunlight.

My mother is gone . . .

Nothing should look beautiful. The whole world should be black and cold.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffs. "I'm a failure. I'm - I'm the worst satyr in the world." He groans, stomping his food so hard it comes off. I mean, the Converse hi-top comes off. The inside is filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole. "Oh, Styx!" he mumbles.

Thunder rolls across the clear sky.

Mom had really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light.

Percy and I are alone. Orphans. We would have to live with . . . Smelly Gabe? No. I'd live on the streets first.

Grover is still sniffling.

Percy says, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."

"Did our mother ask you to protect me?"

"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least . . . I was."

"But why . . ." Percy begins and I suddenly feel dizzy, my vision swimming.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover says. "Here."

He helps me hold my glass and puts the straw to my lips.

I recoil at the taste because I was expecting apple juice. It isn't that at all. It's chocolate-chip cookies. Liquid cookies. But not just any cookies - Mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, buttery and hot, with the chips still melting. Drinking it, my whole body feels warm and good, full of energy. My grief doesn't go away, but I feel as if Mom had just brushed her hand lovingly against my cheek, given me a cookie the way she used to when I was upset and told me everything was going to be okay.

Before I know it, I'd drained the glass. I stare into it, sure I'd just had a warm drink, but the ice cubes hadn't even melted.

"Was it good?" Grover asks.

I nod.

"What did it taste like?"

"Chocolate-chip cookies," I reply and Percy looks at me knowingly. "Mom's. Homemade."

He takes the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it's dynamite, and sets it back on the table. "Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting.

3rd Person POV

The porch wraps all the way around the farmhouse.

Percy's legs feel wobbly, trying to walk that far, and (Y/n), though her legs feel like Jello, had moved to support her brother. Grover offers to carry the Minotaur horn, but Percy holds onto it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I'm not going to let it go.

As the trio comes around the opposite end of the house, (Y/n) catches her breath.

Percy's POV

We must be on the north shore of Long Island because on this side of the house, the valley marches all the way up to the water, which glitters about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply can't process everything I'm seeing. The landscape is dotted with buildings that look like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all look brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school–age kids and satyrs play volleyball. Canoes glide across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's are chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shoot targets at an archery range. Others ride horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I'm hallucinating, some of their horses have wings.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sit across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who'd spoonfed (Y/n) is leaning on the porch rail next to them.

The man facing me is small, but porky. He has a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it's almost poker. He looks like those painting of baby angles - cherubs. He looks like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He is wearing a tiger-patterned Hawaiian shirt, and he would fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I get the feeling that this guy could out-gamble even my step-father.

"That's Mr. D," Grover mutters to me and (Y/n). "He's the camp director. Be polite. That girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron . . . "

He points at the guy whose back is to me.

First, I realize he's sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognize the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, and the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner!" I cry.

The Latin teacher turns and smiles at me, then looks curiously at (Y/n), who is still supporting some of my weight. His eyes have that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulls a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.

"Ah, good, Percy," he says. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offers me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looks at me, then (Y/n), who is leaning against my chair, with bloodshot eyes, and heaves a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to the glad to see you."

"Percy, why don't you introduce me?" Mr. Burnner says, sending a soft smile towards (Y/n).

"Oh, this is my twin sister, (Y/n)," Percy says.

(Y/n)'s POV

I smile and wave shyly.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," I say. "Percy's told me a lot about you. Even said you were his favorite teacher."

A warmer smile spreads across Mr. Brunner's face and then he turns. "Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner calls to the blond girl.

She comes forward and Mr. Brunner introduces us. "This young lady nursed you back to health, (Y/n). Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy and (Y/n)'s bunks? We'll be putting them in Cabin Eleven for now."

"Sure, Chiron," Annabeth replies.

She's probably about my age, maybe an inch or two taller, and a whole more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she is almost exactly when I think a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruin the image. They are startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she's analyzing the best way to take me down in a fight.

She glances down at the Minotaur horn in Percy's hands then looks back up at me. She says, "You drool when you sleep." My cheeks take on a slight red tinge as she sprints off down the lawn, her blond hair flying behind her.

"So," Percy says, looking anxious to change the subject. "You, uh, work here, Mr. Brunner?"

"Not Mr. Brunner," not Mr. Brunner says. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."

"Okay," Percy says, looking totally confused, then looking at the director. "And Mr. D . . . does that stand for something?"

Mr. D stops shuffling the cars. He looks at Percy like he'd just belched loudly. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason.

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"I must say, Percy," Chiron - Brunner breaks in, "I'm glad to see you alive, and the chance to meet your sister. It's been a long time since I've made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?" I ask, interested.

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct Percy. We have satyrs at most schools, of course, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met him. He sensed he was something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to...ah, take a leave of absence."

"You came to Yancy just to teach me?" Percy asks.

Chiron nods. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood, and then we learned of Miss (Y/n), here." He nods to me. "But you still had so much to learn, Percy. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

"Grover," Mr. D says impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

Percy's POV

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembles as he takes the fourth chair, though I didn't know why he should be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.

"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D eyes me suspiciously.

"I'm afraid not," I answer.

"I'm afraid not, sir," he corrects.

"Sir," I repeat, liking the camp director less and less.

"Well," he tells me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules"

"I'm sure the boy can learn," Chiron says.

"Please," I plead, "what is this place? What are we doing here? Mr. Brun— Chiron—why would you go to Yancy Academy just to teach me?"

Mr. D snorts. "I asked the same question."

The camp director deals the cards; Grover flinches every time one lands in his pile.

Chiron smiles at me sympathetically, the way he used to in Latin class, as if to let me know that no matter what my average was, I was his star student. He expected me to have the right answer.

"Percy," Chiron prompts. "Did your mother tell you nothing?"

"She said . . ." (Y/n) begins and I remember her sad eyes, looking out over the sea. "She told us she was afraid to send us here, even though our father had wanted her to. She said that once we were here, we probably couldn't leave. She wanted to keep us close to her."

"Typical," Mr. D says. "That's how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?"

"What?" I ask.

He explains, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so I did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron says. "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient.

"Orientation film?" (Y/n) asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"No," Chiron decides. "Well, Percy, (Y/n). You know your friend Grover is a satyr. You know -" he points to the horn in the shoebox - "that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat, either. What you may not know is that the great powers are at work. Gods - the forces you call the Greek gods - are very much alive."

I stare at the others around the table.

I wait for somebody to yell, Not! but all I get is Mr. D yelling, "Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackles as he tallies up his points.

"Mr. D," Grover asks timidly, "if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Grover bites a huge shard out of the empty aluminum can and chews it.

"Wait," I tell Chiron as (Y/n) sits down on the edge of my chair. "You're telling me there's such a thing as God."

"Well, now," Chiron says. "God—capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about—"

"Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?"

"Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class.

"Zeus," I say. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

And there it was again—distant thunder on a cloudless day.

"Young man," says Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around if I were you."

"But they're stories," I say. "They're—myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoff. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson"—I flinch when he says my real name, which I never told anybody—"what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continues. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals—they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

"Percy," Chiron says, "you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

"You mean, whether people believed in you or not," (Y/n) says.

"Exactly," Chiron agrees. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you Perseus and (Y/n) Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how children can get over losing their mothers."

My heart pounds. He's trying to make me angry for some reason, but I wasn't going to let him. I say, "I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe in gods."

"Oh, you'd better," Mr. D murmurs. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover pleads, "P-please, sir. He's just lost his mother. He's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr. D grumbles, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with boys who don't even believe!" He waves his hand and a goblet appears on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet fills itself with red wine.

"You're Dionysus," (Y/n) says and Mr. D looks at her. "The god of wine."

Mr. D nods then stares at me as I say, "You're a god."

"Yes, child."

"A god. You."

He turns to look at me straight on, and I see a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man is only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I see visions of grapevines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turn to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I know that if I push him, Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a straitjacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he says quietly.

"No. No, sir."

The fire dies a little; he turns back to his card game. "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," Chiron says. He sets down a straight, tallies the points, and says, "The game goes to me."

I think Mr. D is going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he just sighs through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten by the Latin teacher. He gets up, and Grover rises, too.

"I'm tired," Mr. D says. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face beads with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr. D turned to me. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners." He sweeps into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.

"Will Grover be okay?" I ask Chiron.

Chiron nods, though he looks a little troubled. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been . . . ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"Mount Olympus," I say. "You're telling me there is really a palace there?"

"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Percy, just as the gods do."

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like...in America?"

"The what?"

"Western civilization?" (Y/n) guesses and Chiron nods for her to continue. "It started in Greece, then spread to Rome, right?"

"That's correct, Miss (Y/n)," Chiron says.

"And then they died?" I ask, looking between my Latin teacher and my sister.

"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course, they are now in your United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in multiple places. Like it or not—and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either —America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here."

"Who are you, Chiron? Who . . . who am I? Who . . . who are we?"

Chiron smiles. He shifts his weight as if he was going to get up out of his wheelchair, but I know that was impossible. He's paralyzed from the waist down.

"Who are you?" he muses. "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

And then he does rise from his wheelchair. But there's something odd about the way he did it. His blanket falls away from his legs, but the legs don't move. His waist keeps getting longer, rising above his belt. At first, I think he's was wearing very long, white velvet underwear, but as he keeps rising out of the chair, taller than any man, I realize that the velvet underwear wasn't underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair isn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him. A leg comes out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached.

I stare at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.

"You're a centaur!" (Y/n) says in awe, and Chiron's eyes sparkle with amusement as he nods.

"What a relief," the centaur says. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Percy and (Y/n) Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."

Word Count: 3702 words

[kingofterrors]

I was tagged in this ask by @inktog - thank you!

I’m not great at tagging other folk, but if you see this and you fancy doing it, consider yourself tagged! Also, by the way, if anyone seeing this really likes being tagged in these kind of things, let me know! I will tag you in future!

This was hard. At first I was like, “I’m not sure I can even name ten relationships I ship”, and then had far too many as soon as I thought about it for more than ten seconds. So here we are. :)

First, list your top 10 ships without reading the questions below.

1.      Luz Noceda / Amity Blight – The Owl House

2.      Harrowhark Nonagesimus / Gideon Nav – The Locked Tomb Series

3.      Sabran / Eadaz du Zāla uq-Nāra – The Priory of the Orange Tree

4.      Caleb Widogast / Essek Theyless – Critical Role Campaign 2

5.      Beauregard Lionett / Jester Lavorre – Critical Role Campaign 2

6.      Harrowhark Nonagesimus / Ianthe Tridentarius – The Locked Tomb Series

7.      Kara Danvers / Lena Luthor – Supergirl

8.      Amity Blight / Boscha – The Owl House

9.      Korra / Asami – The Legend of Korra

10.  Percy / Vexahlia – Critical Role Campaign 1

Then answer the questions.

Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

I’m going to be honest, it was from the very beginning of Harrow the Ninth – the Prologue, where we get that amazing moment of Ianthe kneeling down and taking Harrow by the chin. I’m going to quote, because this scene just marched up to my house, kicked my door down and stole my entire mind.

You were shocked into opening your eyes when you felt the girl opposite cup your chin in her hands – her fingers febrile compared to the chilly shock of her gilded metacarpal – and put her meat thumb at the corner of your jaw. For a moment you assumed that you were hallucinating, but that assumption was startled away by the cool nearness of her, of Ianthe Tridentarius on her knees before you in unmistakable supplication. Her pallid hair fell around her face like a veil, and her stolen eyes looked at you with half-beseeching, half-contemptuous despair: blue eyes with deep splotches of light brown, like agate.

Looking deep into the eyes of the cavalier she murdered, you realised, not for the first time, and not willingly, that Ianthe Tridenatrius was beautiful.

Dude.

Have you ever read a fic about 2?

Yup! More than one! I don’t generally seek out smut for my ships, for whatever reason, but I freely admit that I sought out smut for these two. And found it. Found it with quality in spades. Praise be. Is this a good spot for recs? If so:

Sleepless by pugoata

Like a Lullaby by SweetScentences

Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/profile pic/tumblr?

Nope. I tend not to change my pics very much, and they tend to focus on single characters rather than ships, again for whatever reason.

If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

Yeah… Well of course they’re not together in canon. I ship supercorp foolishly, helplessly, knowing all the while that the chances of it becoming reality are vanishingly small. That said, we don’t ship purely for canon, do we? So if Kara and Lena were together and then were to break up I’d be disappointed, but I suspect they’d find their way back to each other. These two have a history of being separated, then rediscovering their love and coming back together. I give it a couple of weeks. :)

Why is 1 so important?

Man, I don’t know! It snuck up on me! I think there’s something here about firstly, the context for Lumity. Amity’s crush on Luz was just presented as normal, as something fine and good and natural, and that meant so much to me. There’s a softness here that I love so much. I also heavily empathise with Amity – the trying to live up to expectations and feeling that you have to hide yourself behind emotional walls – and the thought of her finding love with someone like Luz who is so open and emotionally giving does my heart good. I want Amity to find acceptance and openness with Luz. I want Luz to find herself seen and valued for exactly who she is by Amity. I want to see them finding strength and security in each other. I just love them, you guys.

There’s a bit in this wonderful YouTube video essay, which I recommend to the moon and back – watch it if you haven’t! (“The Owl House is Great and Here’s Why, by Film Freak”) Where the essayist concludes their section on Lumity by saying: “I don’t know if Disney will chicken out in the future with regards to Lumity or any other queer rep, but for now I’m cautiously optimistic. Maybe I just have rose-tinted goggles for how soft this ship is, but whatever, let me stan just once.”

And… yeah. That.

Which one has the strongest bond?

Wow, tough one. Probably Sabran and Ead. They’ve gone through everything together, and are prepared to wait for each other in the end. Their bond is strong enough to take that and more.

Which ship has lasted the longest?

For me or the ship itself? For me of all of these probably Korra / Asami. Shipped ‘em first time I saw LoK, and haven’t stopped.

How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

Have they ever gotten together? If they ever did get together they’d break up every couple of days. These two are a mess, and their relationship is a toxic trainwreck. Still ship ‘em though. Can’t help it. Sometimes ships are just fascinating. If this was real life I’d want them to not come within shouting distance of each other. In fiction I’m riveted.

If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive: 2 or 8?

Definitely Harrow and Gideon. Those two have fought through apocalyptic situations before, and my money would be on them to do it again. Plus they are the quintessential battle couple. Can you imagine Harrow’s bone magic and Gideon’s martial expertise being unleashed on zombies? Those two would save the whole damn world.

Amity and Boscha would put up a good fight, I think, but I can see them disagreeing on key decisions which might hurt their chances.

Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

Given that Kara is a whole secret identity, we could say they are continually hiding their relationship when Kara is out there as Supergirl? I could also see them hiding their relationship at Lena’s insistence to protect Kara from Lex before she realised Kara was actually Supergirl. She might even want to do that afterwards as well, on reflection. Lena is very protective of Kara, ironically enough. :)

Is 4 still together?

Right now? This is another non-canon ship. That said, this is one I’m genuinely hoping for a canon appearance from. Their relationship might be put under strain from the fact that they’re both mages, and mages tend to get selfish and power hungry (or at least these two claim that’s how it goes). I think they’d work through it though. These two talk big about their own selfishness a lot, and then in practice are very caring and protective of others. I can see that extending to each other. Just kiss already.

Is 10 canon?

Yup! My token het ship are still very much together, growing old and having babies.Good for them. :)

If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

This is an invitation to go into huge depth, but my initial feeling is that Harrow and Gideon would again have it hands down. Those two are world-endingly powerful. Although that said, Kara and Lena might give them a run for their money. Pure power ranking? Let’s see…

1.      Harrow / Gideon

2.      Kara / Lena

3.      Korra / Asami

4.      Beau / Jester

5.      Caleb / Essek

6.      Percy / Vex

7.      Harrow / Ianthe

8.      Sabran / Ead

9.      Amity / Luz (no shade, but these guys are literal children. Grown up they’d put up a better showing, I’d bet)

10.  Amity / Boscha

Has anyone ever tried to sabotage 5?

I mean… Fjord? I wonder sometimes what would have happened if Beau had genuinely put in a play for Jester, rather than stepping back to let Fjord make his move. She very obviously decided that Fjord should have a free shot, and I wonder how it would have worked if she actually decided to compete. Would Fjord have stepped back to let Beau make a try for Jester if he was aware of her feelings? I don’t know. A genuine competition would have been heartbreaking but oh so interesting to see.

Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr tag?

Not hours, but I have put some good time into finding fanart for these two. There is some good work out there!

If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all up, which ship would you SINK?

Amity / Boscha. Sorry you two! I wrote myself into shipping Amity and Boscha, when I fell in love with Boscha and decided she could actually be good for Amity in a snarky, take no shit kind of a way. I would still love to see more of them. (Halfway through that one-shot btw.) But if it was them or everyone else? Sorry guys. :(

[scapegoated]

Monumental [Kaid/Oz]

They sailed across the Stillwater Sea on their way to the Crystal City once again, its glittering reflection almost unbroken on the surface, like a mirror. Kaid munched on some of the mushroom jerky the new ferryman Cheech had given to him as he gazed through rose-coloured spectacles. The Dwarf ferry driver puffed up and blew into the sails with quite a waft of some kind of smoke—piloting the craft same way his predecessor Merren did—propelling the boat across the glass-like surface.

Merren's snack mix had been a little bit more to Kaid's taste than the dried mushrooms, but, well, what can you do? The Daddies had elected him as a government official and so the Warlock doubted that the former ferry driver had much time for making copious amounts of munchies.

Hans and Charlie were kicking back in the small boat, watching the clear water.

It wasn't too long before they arrived in the port and jumped onto the docks. If they had thought the city was thriving the last time they were there, they were mistaken—it was easily twice as bustling this time, and their fans were out in full force. The Daddies were notorious, and that hadn't changed.

Saving a city does wonders for your reputation.

Kaid didn't like to let it go to his head too much, preferring to be a little less infamous, especially with his continued... interest in the Crystal City. Speaking of which...

"Hey guys, do you mind if we, uh... head to the Temple District?" Kaid asked Hans and Charlie, darting his eyes to avoid eye contact. "Maybe we could try and be a little more subtle, too?"

Hans was sauntering in a satisfied manner, his posture tall. Maybe basking in the praises of the fans a little bit? For such a sneaky Rogue he could sure draw attention, Kaid thought.

"No problem, Kaid. Wouldn't want to keep you from your BF." Charlie grinned and nudged him with an elbow. "Can't tone this down though." He gestured to Hans, whose red cape was billowing, a severed and preserved Drow priestess head on each hip.

In fact, subtlety was quite out of the question, as they would soon find when they arrived in the Temple District. They found that their modest group statue was gone. The one that had been constructed soon after they eliminated the Crystal Cult from the city, effectively saving it from destruction.

In its place was something new. This was way bigger. The smaller monument had been replaced with a huge metal sculpture of the three of them, easily twice their height. Posed in the midst of battle, the three of them looked heroic and magnificent.

That being said, the posing was a little... unusual, for someone aware of the group dynamic. To start, their tallest and most imposing, Hans. Giant metal Hans was crouched at the bottom front, daggers ready to strike. Looking intense, of course, but still. 

Charlie was next up, the surprisingly beefy former Ranger, now Blood Hunter. Dealer of massive damage. Giant metal Charlie had an arrow knocked, bow pulled taut, about to loose. That typical aloof and relaxed expression on his metal face.

Last, typically found in a corner to cover his back, or about 120 feet away from a threat, was the Tiefling Warlock Kaid. Metal Kaid was posed at the top of the monument, his hair still long, hands casting a familiar spell. Looking… actually kind of badass? Little, real Kaid squinted upwards. Hold up a second, did this monument look kinda handsomer than would be accurate?

"Huh, that's interesting." The Warlock heard Charlie, who was taking a look at the affixed plaque’s inscription.

"What is it?" Kaid jogged over.

"Look here, 'Sponsored and built by Oz, the Shepherd of Ermath.'" The Dhampir pointed out, his chill expression curling into a little smile.

Hans crossed his arms, looking at the inscription and then back at how the statue was posed. He threw a little side eye at the shorter Tiefling, "I see how it is."

Kaid threw up his hands, flushing a little. "Look there's some clear favouritism here... and I'm not mad about it," he declared suddenly. As much as he liked flying under the radar, he was honestly extremely touched by this masterpiece.

Charlie clapped him on the back and Kaid jumped. "Go find Oz. Let's hit the bar, we'll meet you there!"

"Crystal Mug. See you there," Hans nodded Kaid's way. He turned and his cape swirled around him. God that guy was cool. Charlie gave the Warlock a wink and a lazy salute as he strode to catch up with the taller Half Elf.

Kaid took another admiring look at the massive piece of art and then hustled off to find his favourite Cleric.

The Warlock guesstimated that it was about evening time so he headed directly for Oz's cottage. Knock or unlock. Knock or unlock... he fiddled with the key around his neck on the way over. The one Oz had given him last time.

Unlock. Came a command inside his mind.

Kaid sighed slightly. The voice of his Patron was harder and harder to ignore.

Look Zathog, I'm not soliciting relationship advice from you.

...

The staticky and warped “silence” spoke volumes.

You know what? Unlock sounds alright. Kaid thought better of pressing this issue, palming the key, and flipping it towards the lock in a little flourish.

He opened the door noisily, trying to make it obvious that someone was coming in. Kaid coughed. "Honey, I'm home...?" he tried the phrase on for size. Fuck, that sounded dumb—

Too late to overthink it, the familiar and beaming face of Oz popped around the wall from the living room, toothy grin widening as he visually confirmed the situation. "Kaid! You're back!"

"It's me, haha, in the flesh, it's so good to see yo—" he had been awkwardly turning to shut the door and found himself interrupted by a tight hug.

Oh my god, why do I ever leave? The fleeting thought came to him as he relaxed, momentarily loosening the taller Tiefling's grip to turn to face him and return the embrace.

"From your letters I wasn't sure if you were heading back here at any point, or just going to send me another message telling me you almost died..." Oz's expression looked amused, but Kaid could tell there was some legitimate concern there.

"I didn't want to worry you, but it's been rough. For me. I'm not as strong as Charlie and Hans." Kaid recalled a couple of near brushes with death, in the ziggurat, against the Dracolich. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them."

"Well, we should celebrate, then!" Oz smiled. "Where are our other heroes?"

"Actually, I came to whisk you away to the bar. They're waiting for us! But, uh, first I wanted to say something." Kaid paused briefly, taking a breath, "Thank you, for the monument. I didn't know you were into such grand gestures."

"For the heroes of the city? It's nothing." Oz winked. Kaid could always tell, even with the one eye scarred and unopening.

"You know what I mean, Oz." Kaid grabbed his shirt lightly then pulled him in for a kiss.

  They weren't as late to the bar as you might have expected, but maybe not as punctual as Hans or Charlie would have liked. And it was hard for them not to get started… the patrons of the bar, I mean, when all the Dwarves at the bar were supplying the Daddies with drinks.

"Ozzie! Egg boy!" Charlie waved them over to the corner table. There were already a few empty glasses in front of him.

Oz shot Kaid an amused look. Egg boy?

Uhh, I'll explain later, came Kaid's telepathic response.

They slid into the booth, and Oz put an arm over Kaid's shoulders. "Welcome back to town, Daddies! I see you're being treated right already."

Raoul plopped two more glasses down on the table, sliding one in front of each of the Tieflings. Kaid eyeballed the size of the mug. What an absolute unit.

"Cheers, to your return!" Oz raised his glass, and the three Daddies toasted with the Cleric.

"Cheers, to your fine work on that monument," said Hans, starting the second toast and finishing his drink.

"Fuck, yeah, dude," Charlie nodded at Oz. "It's massive! How do you even make something that size?"

"Time and effort," Oz chuckled. "Plus, you've been gone a while, I had some free time on my hands." He squeezed Kaid's shoulder.

The smaller Tiefling took a big gulp of his drink, pointedly avoiding making a quippy comment for once in his goddamned life.

"What can we say, we've been pretty busy saving the world," the Rogue answered confidently. Raoul was already bringing over the next round of drinks. Kaid was not going to be able to keep up and keep his wits.

"No doubt! Tell me all about it! Kaid leaves out most of the juicy details in his letters. I suspect that he doesn't want me to know how much trouble he gets up to."

That was all it took to get Charlie and Hans into the tales of their battles, infiltrations, and espionage in the stretch since they'd left. It had been an eventful period, and the two strongest Daddies wasted no time getting into it, complete with gestures and re-enactments.

Charlie had undergone a complete transfusion, and transformation to a Blood Hunter. They'd faced off against hordes of the undead, against a Lich—not once, but twice! (Though, to be fair, the second time was because they botched the job the first time. Phylacteries are tricky business.)

They had gone on a side quest to the Faewild... maybe? That may have been a dream or a mass hallucination. But… then again they did have some souvenirs to prove it.

Dodging lightning through the desert, making deals with Djinn and dragons. Infiltrating the Vampire city stronghold. Collecting vials of exotic blood via Vampire B&Bs.

Oh wait, the vials… That struck a chord of fear into Kaid's heart, but at the moment he was too far gone to remember why.

They'd gone deep into the snowy mountains and made allies with a Storm Giant to take on a Dracolich, and then they'd gone deep into Kaid's mind, to the darkly Eldritch yet still glimmering halls of Glamathyst.

As their power grew exponentially, so did the dangers. At this point, everyone was quite drunk, and the whole bar was tuned in to the tale. Kaid figured that they were just about to become even more infamous here, as this epic was sure to make it out to husbands and wives and children in the Crystal City.

"Oz," Kaid whispered dizzily into Oz's ear, "we're legends."

Kaid remembered Oz kissed him then, but the next thing he knew distinctly was curling up in a cozy bed at home and drifting off to sleep. In between: darkness, stars.

  "...d? Kaid?" Oz was lightly touching his shoulder. The Warlock grimaced slightly, head pounding.

"Are you alright? I had to carry you home yesterday." The Cleric sounded amused yet somewhat concerned.

"Ughh... remind me to stick to cocoa next time." Kaid rubbed his eyes, trying to ignore his churning stomach.

"We probably should have cut you off. I'm used to drinking with my work buddies and they go hard. Also, they're Dwarves."

"Nnnhmmm," was about all Kaid could manage.

"I'm going to make some coffee, come down when you feel up to it, okay? Or do I have to brew up some Remove Curse for this hangover?" 

This time Kaid felt an otherworldly chuckle in his head, which made him even more queasy than before.

"Mm—be back—" is all he accomplished, before staggering off to the bathroom.

  Kaid stared down at the coffee he was slowly sipping.

"You're looking a little less green," Oz remarked. "Feeling any better?"

"Mmm, a bit. Better than getting sliced six ways to Sunday or being blasted to unconsciousness by freezing Dracolich breath."

"Most people couldn't draw that comparison from personal experience."

"Ugh, sometimes I wish I couldn't either."

"And yet... when are you leaving?"

Kaid sighed, "There's still things I want to do... need to do, in spite of myself. It's scary, but the power... has appeal." He looked up seriously, and found Oz staring at him with his good eye. It wasn’t a judgmental gaze, but it was evaluating.

"You have good friends. You take good care of each other... even though it often seems like you're protecting each other from bears, or rather, dragons that you didn't have to poke."

"Oz, you're not wrong," Kaid caught himself smirking a little bit, then tried to look serious. "Look, uh, I have something I want to talk about... but I don't know if the time is right. Or if it's right for me to ask."

Kaid pushed down the wavering feeling in his gut, trying to blame it on the hangover rather than nerves.

"Oz. There's a big battle coming. That I know for sure. It's going to be dangerous, and I'm afraid. There's so many variables I can't account for, and I hate those risks. Right now the only things I'm certain of in my life are my team... and you. I don't want to be apart any longer than we have to."

The Warlock took a big gulp of coffee.

"I want you by my side."

[fanfics-bts]

Just Another Salty Customer / A Yoonmin Oneshot

Genre : Fluffy fluff , Coffeeshop! au.

Requested by anon. Hope you like it! <3</b>

(requests are open!!)

Fic:

It was a slow day where Jimin was working, brewing coffee and writing orders in a small cafe downtown. The cafe was near to empty with white noises of the music playing in maybe some party/ies down the block.

It made sense that there would be parties since it was a Friday night, and Friday nights for people unlike Jimin and the old couple sitting at the corner table, meant parties or in their words “fun”. Jimin knew better than to be like that or to stay with people like that, he liked to think she was mature. Why do you wanna sell your youth away for these bizarre things? he thought. Completely ignoring the fact that even if he had been given the chance to enjoy parties, he couldn’t. Because a) he’s not much of a social butterfly if you couldn’t already tell and b) he’d rather spend his precious time writing lyrics or reading books. . : . Dazed out in his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the ring of the door bell clingking when a black-hooded figure came in . (he got scared for a second,-what if he’s a thief-, but then his red tinted puffed face with those cat like eyes said the opposite of scary) He put money on the counter with a slight bang,“ Black coffee, no sugar”, he huffed out, his voice sounding grumpy. He looked at him and smiled a little as he set up the coffee machine, and Jimin ..being Jimin just has to make conversation, “Coffee in a Friday night.. tough day huh?”, he said . He only gruffed and said “ Stop talking”. He smiled even more, his eyes turning into crescents, “ Someone’s salty, you sure you don’t wanna add some Sugar to the coffee of yours?” “ Just shut up”, he said .And this time Jimin listened. He eyed the boy’s  tired self, the hoodie hiding most if not all of his features, except for his disgruntled face. But he tried to mind his own business with this and started making his order. ~•~ “Here you go.” he said and smiled . “ Have a goo-” he said but was cut off by the door bell signaling his leave. Aish, he sighed. He hated salty customers like that raven haired dude, but oh well. He has a job to do and money to earn. ~•~ The next day, around the same time he had come back yet again, except he didn’t look tired and wasn’t wearing a hoodie that would swallow him up. He wore light blue jeans and a black t-shirt , his hair pushed back, you could see his face a bit clearer this time around, and as much as Jimin hated to admit it, the salty dude was actually pretty handsome. He realised she was staring and so he fuzzily and quickly went back to his  work. (he has been swiping the same cup for minutes now ) He had gotten what looked like iced coffee and was about to leave when he saw Jimin looking at him..dang it,you stupid Jimin .And then he saw the boy was speed walking to him. Jimin wasn’t in charge of the counter, so it was pretty clear that the other boy was walking to him as he was somewhere opposite to the counter where the boy had gotten the said coffee of his. And the closer he came, the more the angry expression of his face came to sight. Oh lord he looks furious…and kind of good-*cough*, he internally facepalms at her thoughts. What the hell, Jimin. he thinks. “You.” , he started with venom in both his speech and cold glare. He faced her and smiled(sarcastically that is) “well hello.” “Where is it?”, he grumbled. “Wha-”, he said but was interrupted again “ you know what I’m talking about now give it back”., he put his hand out. “Okay, look you’re not making any sense right now and I have a job to do so ple-” he says but got interrupted (yet again) when he grabbed the slightly shorter boy by the arm and pulled him. He yelped in a not-so-manly way as he was now face to face with the boy…well more like face to chest because of obvious height differences . (Jimin tries not to fawn much over how firm his *cough* chest is …) he tried to get away but didn’t quite work out . Damn it,he’s strong. He came closer to the shorter boy’s face, so close he that could feel his soft breaths, and the boy could count the eyelashes adorning his light brown eyes. “Where’s .. My..Notebook?”, he said in a gruff voice that sent goosebumps shivering to his spine. “I d-don’t know..what you’re t-talking about”, Jimin stutters. And damn him for getting all stuttery just from being close to a boy.(A really good looking guy at that) He hates himself for getting all flustered, but it only makes sense knowing that he hadn’t even kissed a boy before (despite knowing his sexuality) ..and thinking that only made him even more flustered, because now he was looking at his lips and  goddamnit Jennie stop he’s just another salty customer.

The-raven-haired-guy-he-didn’t-know-the-name-of had noticed him staring, making him smirk a little . He let go of him now, with that one-hell-of-a-stupid-yet-goddamn-attractive-smirk still plastered on his face he spoke again,“ Alright”, he raised his hands up in a surrender-like motion, “ If you say so”, with that he turned around to walk away, but turned back,contemplating on speaking what it was that he wanted to say. “ It has just has something really important in it.”, he said. “Oh..and tell me if you find it.” He added with a wink and left . To say Jimin was overwhelmed was the least you could say, How would he tell him if he doesn’t even know the boy’s name? And...Did he just wink at me?! He almost internally screamed out of frustration, his heart was beating a mile per hour, what was up with Jimin and this guy. And what is it about him that makes Jimin feel so agitated and annoyed yet flustered and mushy?! He didn’t know what it all meant, but in the end she was left flustered for that cute …wait what? No! Stop it, Cheezus Jiminie!!. ~•~ 3 hours later. Jimin was the  person in charge of the cafe that day so as expected, he had to lock all the doors. He takes the money earned for the day to the storage room.

As he goes out, he notices a small black journal lying on the counter shelf near the cashier. Curiosity got to him as he strides his way towards the notebook that’s definitely not supposed to be there.

Jimin picks up the notebook, eyeing it , it was a black leather journal with a pen clicked on to it. He opens the first page and sees the name ‘MIN YOONGI’ written in capital.

Someone probably left it here, he thinks. And as he thinks that, his mind goes to that one customer who had asked Jimin for his “very important notebook”. Maybe this was his..?

Jimin was thinking a lot of things but the first thing he took note of was that,

The boy’s name was  Min Yoongi.

“Min Yoongi” he mumbles, testing the sound of the salty-yet-cute customer's​ name.

He should’ve just closed it and left it for when he comes looking again, but being the curious boy he is, he turned the page.

He’s just looking for his contact info, that’s all. He convinces himself.

The page was filled with inked letters, written in a cursive handwriting. He read it,

“ The first time I saw you, you’re a white cream mocha,

And your eyes, a sweeter sweet than cafe latte.

​​​​​​And now I’m thinkin maybe you’re Americano

Be​​​​​cause you got this strong effect on me

But now I know , you’re a caramel macchiato,

With your cat-like smile and caramel brown hair.

And as much as I am embarrassed to say, I think you look really pretty."​​ 

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat at that because, aww that’s so cute and the girl/boy must be so beautiful to have someone as salty as him smitten for them..

As someone who composes music himself,he’s pretty sure that lyrics this good must be from some professional artists of some sort, cos there’s no way Yoongi’s that good at composing lyrics.( Or Jimin was too awestrucked to admit that the boy’s talented) .

The next page was written in Hangul, and Jimin, although being half korean, couldn’t read the language for the life of him, but along the lines of Korean words was three words scribbled messily in English. ’ I love you’.

Jimin’s heart tugged at that for reasons even he didn’t know of. The boy was in love with a someone, and although the boy was technically a stranger, it still kind of hurt him just a little, he was the only person getting up in his space anyways.

Although he knew he was hurting her confused self, he flipped the page yet again, and his eyes widened at what he saw, It was a drawing, moreso, it was a drawing of himself…..smiling while making coffee.

And underneath the drawing were small words, "I love you Park Jimin . :)  , Call meee~ 0××××××”.

Jimin closed the book immediately..cos oh my God.WHAT THE HELL DID HE JUST… he must be hallucinating or something because there’s no way that Min Yoongi was …talking about Park Jimin, the annoying and talkative barista with no social life  . He opened and closed the book a couple times, praying that he’s just seeing things.

​​​​​​Jimin didn’t know what to do but what he wanted to do for starters is to smack that boy’s head because ​​​​​​how did he know that Jimin would read it and damn so that’s what he meant when he said “let me know if you find it”, to call him?

Jimin’s heart was most probably running a marathon by now, he in no way is believing what he saw. But if it was true, which it isn’t, how can he call him such beautiful things like that?!

He had so many questions and although she’s supposed to be closing the store by 8, it’s 8:37 and she's​ still sitting on the counter with his cheeks flushed.

He was agitated, and so he decided to just call him already. Each ring of his phone caused him  to hold his breath and when he did answer after the third ring, Jimin was at a loss of words.

“Hello?” A gruff voice says.

“..h-Hi..” Jimin squeaks out a reply, stuttering.

And Yoongi chuckles. “I see you finally found it..?” He says airily.

And when Jimin doesn’t reply, too out of it to even try, he speaks again.

“ Are you still at the cafe?” He asks.

“Yeah..” Jimin replies.

“Kay, I’m coming, wait there”, and with that he cuts the call.

~•~

Jimin doesn’t know how long it took for him to come but it sure felt like hours.

So when the door bell clingked , Jimin stood up immediately, probably too nervous, brushing off the non-existent dust off his black jeans.

As soon as Yoongi spotted Jimin in the lonesome cafe, his eyes curled up into a smile, showing his gummy teeth and oh my God this is not fair, he’s so freaking cute

Yoongi shyly walked over to him, with his smile still plastered on his face.

And if Jimin wasnt already a  blushing mess, he sure as hell is now.

“Soo~..” Yoongi starts. “Did you.. like it?” He says sheepishly.

And Jimin only blushed harder if that’s even possible, he was sure he could hear the hammering of his chest.

“I-I guess” he says and Yoongi lets out a breath he didn’t even  know he was holding.

“Thank goddddddd!” Yoongi groans and laughs. “ I thought maybe writing bout coffee would be too cheesy” he chuckles.

“It was pretty adorable” Jimin says and giggles.

“At least for a boy as salty as you” he remarks sassily.

And Yoongi fake gasps.“ouch”. They laugh quietly although no one’s there.

Yoongi drawls out again,. “I mean, I don’t know if you know but we’re in the same class, and i know how much you love writing lyrics so i just-” He blabbers on, seemingly nervous.

"oh…?” Jimin looks at him dumbfoundedly. If he felt bad before, he felt worse knowing how he didn’t know the boy in front of him, why didn’t he notice him before?

“so..”, Yoongi starts again.. “Is it a yes..?

“For what..?”, Jimin asks back

Yoongi’s happy eyes drooped a little as he said “..you.. did you not read my letter?” He says a bit disappointed

“What let-? Oh! Is it the one in Hangul?”, he asks

Yoongi nods meekly. 

Jimin chuckles cheekily and says, “I may or may not know how to read Hangul..hehe” he says sheepishly.

“Oh.I’m-well sorry! I didn’t know ” Yoongi says.

“Nah it’s okay,read it for me!” She says.

“O-okay” he stutters , what the hell was this fluffball doing to the boy. He coughs before starting,“Park Jimin, you may not know me well or at all as of now, but all you need to know as of now is this…I think I love you.” So that’s the part Jimin read in English, “ And I know it might seem so sudden because I might not know you well enough, but. .maybe we can? I want to know you more than your smile and the way you talk, more than your laugh and everything beautiful about you. I wanna know you more and so I hope you’ll let me, and you’ll give me a chance, cos goddamnit I’m not usually this cheesy, but will you go out with me?”

He breaths in shakily .

Jimin breaths out heavily.

He smiles widely after hearing that. “ Awwwe! That’s so cute” he playfully smacks his firm chest. And as surprising as it is, the boy blushes and smiles widely. “ So is that a yes?!” He asks giddily, and oh my lord, what happened to the salty boy who loved black coffee?

“I never said that~” Jimin folds her arms and sasses her hips out. His smile falls immediately and god this was so fun.

But he felt a bit too cruel and said “ I’m not saying no, but not yes either, let’s get to know each other first and I’ll see” he says.

He seems alright with the answer and says “I still consider that as a yes” he smirks .

“Yah!” I say and he runs off laughing.

Jimin doesn’t know what he’s getting into, but he knows that he’s learning to like that salty-yet-cute customer more and more.

The end! What do you think of this ? I never really wrote a coffee au before so it is a bit nerve wracking,  but oh well, I hope I fulfilled your wish well , anon!

Requests are open btw~ 

xo :)