#i wonder if hunter fears their own mortality

[bellafragolina]

So i had an idea for a request~ how about Leon and Ingo (Separate) being Vampire hunters but they inadvertently fall for one of the vampires they were sent to slay~?

A person falling for a monster is delicious, but it being someone sworn to kill the monster too? Extra delicious.

🍓🍓🍓

Ingo:

The night is dark, perpetual. Ingo supposes it's deliberate, being a creature such as yourself. You prefer the moonlight, shy from the sun despite craving warmth.

Ingo knows that now.

It's been. . . a month? Two? Ingo isn't quite sure, not after the nasty tumble he took down the mountain on the way to your hidden home. There's a dull throb through his temple even now, even after being so cared for, but he can ignore it most days.

On those he can't, you bring him medicinal tea and warm meals, letting him curl up in bed all day should he want.

It's so unlike the compound. He trained there for years, honing his body and mind alike to be perfect for killing creatures like you. Monsters that feed off people, killing them viciously, wastefully.

But you have people in the town nearby. They come to you, freely offering an arm when you begin to hunger. And you make sure they are not harmed in return. Your hearing, your sense of smell, all of it attuned to the village you swear to protect.

Yet, even as they freely offer you blood, you're so careful. Ingo has spied on your feedings enough time to see how gentle you are, fangs pricking just enough to allow you to slurp down the blood. And your people never flinch, merely smile, even laughing as you fret and bandage their wounds with your mouth still stained crimson.

And Ingo finds himself wondering what it feels like, pricked by your fangs and caressed by your lips.

You are nothing like what he was taught. You are kindness and sacrifice, for he sees the slight hollowness to your cheeks even when flushed from a fresh feeding.

You never mention it, but you must know what he is, why he's here. You don't seem afraid, if anything you seem. . . accepting of it. Of his duty. You haven't taken his weapons, haven't locked him away or restrained him or used him for ransom. You didn't leave him to die.

And now he doesn't want to see you dead either.

Leon:

Leon hates the world he lives in.

He hates the need to hunt down monsters to protect who he loves. He hates that he was chosen as the town's Hunter, the protector of everyone, strongest in the village, maybe the region if the whispers are true.

He hates that all of it, the training and the blood and the sweat and the tears, has led to this.

Leon never knew you were what he had to hunt. You hid it so well, with gloves and hats and careful smiles. Never had Leon seen you raise a hating hand to anyone. He'd only seen you tend bruises and cuts, read stories and carry firewood for anyone who needed it.

You were an endless stream of kindness and aid.

And now here you lie, cut down by Leon's own sword.

A raw, choking noise breaks from his throat. It's drowned out by the crowd behind him, a mess of torches and pitchforks that mar and mold everyone in a wall of screaming anger.

How could everyone had been fooled by you, a monster amongst the mortals of the village?

How easily they had turned on you, realizing your true self. All your kindness was forgotten, all the trust you had garnered lost in a fleeting moment of fear and hatred.

Leon wants to hate you too. You tricked him, everyone, yet you lay before him, wounded by him, and you don't fight back.

He knows you could. You could destroy him in an instant, but you don't. You lie there and you take it. And Leon hates it.

Hates that it's you he has to kill.

Hates that his hands are shaking.

Hates that he's crying over your dying body.

Hates that it always, always had to end this way.

🍓🍓🍓

ta-da! hope i did it justice!!

~Renee

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Mᴀᴋɪᴍᴀ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➢ 1.1k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Fʟᴜғғ

➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

a/n - as much as i hate makima, the idea was too good to let go, so have this! thanks for reading! titled "fear me not". maybe ooc but hey, let her be whipped. have a good day/night!

↬ cw: spoilers if you haven't read the manga, slight obsession (makima)

"Do you fear me?"

It was certainly out of the blue, and a very out-of-character question for a person like Makima to ask. You, who was sipping on a cup of coffee, sat across her inside her living room, had momentarily stopped reading the book you held, incredulously raising a brow at her.

Was it something she shouldn't have asked? It wasn't uncommon for her to ask questions out of nowhere, but out of all the questions she had asked, this one, in particular, had the most unique reaction. You looked at her funny, an expression you rarely wear when acknowledging her.

Then, you let out a sigh, placed a bookmark in between the pages you previously read in your book, and closed it. You crossed your legs and continued to take a long, leisurely sip of your coffee.

How odd. This is usually a pose you do when the two of you are about to have a serious discussion. Makima replicated your seating, ignoring the multiple huskies whining on her lap for her attention.

"Would you ever hurt me?" You simply asked, heaving a hot breath that smelt like ground coffee beans and milk.

Would she? Makima opened her mouth to answer you, but then closed it again, mulling over your question more. Could she even hurt you? You were different than the rest. She was a devil. The Control Devil, to be precise. One of the most powerful devils known to man, you should be afraid.

Even being granted by the government a high position in the Public Safety Devil Hunters, high enough to know who she truly was, there wasn't a single ounce of fear in your body. Neither an inch of worship. Perhaps respect as your higher-up, but nonetheless, you tolerated her at most.

A human, a mortal, at the mercy of the Control Devil, is having a normal day with her. In her own apartment. Talking to her on equal grounds.

Were you even human at this point? Makima often wondered. You smell human, but in the period you've known each other, she's never seen fear on your face lest it wasn't directed to her.

You screamed over a cockroach that crawled over your foot, for god's sake!

Oddly enough, she was relieved. Not annoyed, or angry. Her chest felt light whenever she was with you. Because she knew she wasn't talking to a puppet, but to you. You didn't force yourself to like her or made her feel like she was a much superior being to you. You made her feel as if she was just a simple human as you are. You glare at her, scoff, and sigh, but she never felt repulsed by it. She loved it.

Makima was the first to confess. Perhaps she was disillusioned by your fearlessness. Much to her amusement, you were definitely shocked. Confused and also quite perturbed. It was also the first time she felt a laugh bubble from her chest but stopped herself from doing so.

So cute.

As expected, you rejected her. Multiple times, but she was persistent. So she tried again, and again. You never gave in, rejecting her at each confession. But in between those confessions, you've gotten to know her more. From her interest in (crude) paintings, her favorite drink, movies, her multiple dogs, food, and many many more.

Makima could tell you'd grown fond of her.

She finally understood the feeling humans often described as "butterflies in your stomach", because she felt it when you first laughed and smiled in her presence. Her heart, a part of her she was sure was dead, pounded against her chest and heat crept up to the tips of her ears.

You finally said yes.

When Makima first confessed, she thought she would find happiness with you, all because you were different than the rest. For once, outside of work, you treated her similarly to everyone else.

And she did.

From offering your own blood when she's injured even though she could handle it herself, helping her take care of her dogs, cooking for her, cleaning for her, and formulating plans with her. You smiled more often, especially when she was around. You'd huff in annoyance when one of her colleagues makes a move on her even if she reassured you for the nth time that they were just under her control.

You were cute. You made her feel warm on the inside. You made her feel multiple emotions she's never felt before. You're always so eager to care for her, to give her hugs when she gives you a certain look, to kiss her oh so tenderly on her lips, to remove her coat for her when she goes home late, and many more.

You were her everything, even if she wasn't the best at showing it. Even if she was the fearsome Control Devil. You loved her, despite who or what she was.

So no, perhaps she would never hurt you. Because once you lose yourself from her control, or die from a devil's hand, perhaps she'd lose herself as well. Lose everything she cared for.

No, because it's you.

"That's my answer." You say after her prolonged silence. It was been approximately 5 minutes since you last spoke and she's been in a daze since then. Even if she hadn't spoken, she needn't either way. You could see it in her eyes, the way the corners of her lips twitched, arms that were once neatly folded on her chest now clutching the dog that rested on her lap. She didn't even notice it licking her cheek.

"Makima," You sighed, setting down your cup of coffee on the center table. Finally, her eyes focused on you, shoulders easing once she saw your face. "What's there to fear?"

With that, she found herself huffing in amusement. She pointed a finger to you, a finger gun. She could easily end your life at right this moment, with a single flick of her wrist. But all you did was scoff and roll your eyes, grabbing the forgotten book and opening it once more. "That wasn't a challenge, but go on with it."

Makima's smile widened, pulling her hand away and standing up from her seat, claiming the spot next to you instead.

Looks like you were right once more. You never fail to intrigue her. You never fail to impress her. You never fail to make her fall harder for you.

"I love you," Makima wrapped her arms around yours, laying her head against your shoulder. She had to hold back a smirk that threatened to creep up on her lips when you suddenly sputtered, face red at her confession.

Despite it all, you still get flustered at her unpredictableness. You are still human after all. Her human. Her lover.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[cherubispunk]

ICHOR. BLOOD. WATER. (part i // ichor.) - Din Djarin x Witch!AFAB!Reader

summary: stranded. alone. a traitor to your people, your family. aeaea is the prison of paradise you call home, and he is the prophecy you like to call an enigma. the 'man made from metal', forged in fire, melted by your spell that is no witchcraft on your part. he is the hunter, you will always be the prey. it is the way as the fates designed it.

a note from lucy: so, its back. i'm officially back! basically, I went through it. accidentally deleted my blog. had to start from scratch. repost it all. but! I'm here. you're here. we're all here! Greek mythology is a huge love of mine. I always like to add a small sprinkling into my fics where possible. and now im writing one based wholly of two greek myths: eros and phsyche, and circe. I've read Madeleine Miller's 'Circe'. I fell in love with it, it's genuinely one of the best books ive had the pleasure of reading --hence the fact that this is heavily based off it in terms of 'lore'. Din is the perfect character for these myths to be translated into fic. So, without further ado, I present to all you lovely people (again lol), my mythology!au; ICHOR. BLOOD. WATER. for @inklore and @psychedelic-ink's haunted hoedown. A three part fic with our beloved space cowboy. I really hope you enjoy it as I put a lot of time and thought into this. I love you all, you wonderful Pedro fanatics.

playlist

wc: 2255 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! mythology!au, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'Circe' twice in this chapter alone, dubcon, smut, p in v sex (unprotected), reference to past sexual assault (very mild), cussing, mentions of witchcraft, voyeurism, mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of food and descriptions of eating, choking, breath play, oral sex - f receiving, edging, orgasm denial, toxic relationships, dom!din/sub!reader dynamic, sex as a means for manipulation and control, manipulative!din, stockholm syndrome?

series m.list | m.list

You had done many things under the pseudonym of Circe. Bird. Crow. What your mother and siblings used as a knife to your throat. An insult in the form of a name. One that man whispered in myth around fires. One a sailor would call out in fear upon reaching the shore of any island in the vicinity of Aeaea. It clung to the disgusted curl of their tongue like the tang of sour fruits. Lemons of Sicily. Limes from crete. Wrapped in letter parchment, sweetened with ink. 

Across from you is the god responsible for many of those tall tales. In his gold sheathed glory, olive skin gleaming with a ripple of muscle against the warmth of your hearth. Under it flows ichor, steadily. His winged sandals flutter in a twitch every few minutes. A subtle sound that is heard little too often over the lilt of his voice. Hermes. A deity you invited to your bed when he would visit, indulge in the stories of how he stole cattle as mere youngling, delivered messages of ruin to mortals. Travelled the planes of the underworld from the Styx to Elysium Plains. Hades and his sunken eyes on his throne. Where winged sandals would carry him overseas with his travellers cap and staff of entwined twin snakes. 

He would sit upon your chair, open his loose lips and a drone would pour out, Maybe to a mortal he would seem all so interesting. One to dote hours of your day to the thick honey like pouring of his voice in your ear. But to you – the witch – a goddess in your own right, he was a mere drag. A rake. A god worthy of being turned to swine at the unjust sight of his curling smirk. 

You would have drifted off it weren't for his voice picking up in interest, your ears perking up with it. The high buzz from his drone of white noise faded, ebbing into coherence while his lips drifted in voice. Practised and perfected movement the way any divine being did. 

“The fates speak of a man. Made of metal.” He mused, studying his thumb and forefinger as a stand of your lionesses hair was snagged between it. You wished to singe it from his fingertips. “A warrior.” “From overseas of Greece?” Now, and only now,  he had your attention. 

“Further.” 

You muttered a curse under your breath. Where would be further. “He will sail on a ship, strand himself on your shores engulfed with fire. And you shall do as you have before.”

“Take it?” You sneered, sitting forward in your seat, teeth bared at him. “I suppose I shall feed him before he sets his disgusting hands upon me.” 

“Oh come now,” He smirked, “Were you not to take him to your bed regardless?” 

“I shall sew your mouth shut for such accusations.” 

Hermes sighed, rolling his eyes in all his dramatics. Lounging in his seat. 

“Circe, you humour me with your feral tongue.” 

“And you disgust me with your plight.” “Ah,” he held up a single finger, humour on his face at the top of his curled lip, “I may be bored. But at least I have the world. You, Circe,” he spat, raising a brow in sickening amusement, “have nothing.” 

Your face drained of colour. Your heart aching in its chasm of a chest, ribs pinching. He was right. Your oasis was still a prison. Despite its bars of gold, it still held you. Contained you. 

He stood in his victory over you, taking one last look around. “One last thing–”

“Oh, there’s more, is there?” You sighed, staying seated. For all his heirs and graces, he was no more worthy of your respect than the dirt caked to your bare feet in winter's first bite. The god merely crossed his arms, a diving wind rustling the blonde curls upon his head, wrapped in laurels, 

“You must never look upon his face.” 

You sat in a furrowed brow muddle. He had drifted to the wind, turned to a shimmering spectacle of dust, in nothing more than a blink. 

—

He came with a blundering sputter. In a ship that was no ship of wood that sailed on tides. A hunk of chrome with spitting fans of fiery heat. A thwip through your cloudless skies to crash upon sandy shores. 

He came…with a child. A green creature with pointed ears similar to satyrs, no taller than your mid calf, alien to you. Wide hickory eyes that masked his face with innocence, having seen things unspeakable to even brave sailors. And when they sat at your table, piled plentifully with sweet figs, legs of mutton infused with rosemary, steamed and seasoned greens, and honey in its jar, the man of metal left all deserted by his lips. His plate was clean, wine untouched in his cup. Never once needing an added refill. Nor did he speak kindly. Rather, reserved. Gruff, distorted by something in his helmet seemingly fused to his head. While the child chewed on the fleshy roasted bone of lamb. 

Rhythms of autumn, songs of summer, ballads of winter watched over you and the meadows you walked. Gardens you tended to. Woods you roamed. And he did too. There was something within him. Under that beskar. It called, howled, growled in insubordination. A vulgar hatred of being vulnerable out in this position. Where you held an advantage of both terrain and power. 

So he took in a way he knew. In carnal, biting desire paced by him. Phallically. Reversed the role of who won who, made you beg in your own bed, in the drowning pools of darkness. Never to see his face. 

But oh so familiar. 

The first time he took you was akin to a memory in the very moment it happened. A haze of something so absurd it couldn't possibly have been true. Played out the way it did. The Mandalorian watched while you bathed. In a creek not too far from the path. A rock for your lioness to splay out over, sunbathe and make her coat gleam gold like the ichor in your veins. Her ears pricked at a sound he made. One you did not hear with your head submerged under the clear pool. 

She looked up, lifting her whiskered chin from her large paws, and her eyes met his. He did not fret. Nor did he stop and turn away from the great willow he stood below. Only glanced from her to the curve of your bare chest rippling above the crystal waters rippling surface. 

From there, he had stalked you to the deeper parts of the forest where even your familiar did not follow. Watched as a wicker basket was tucked under your arm, flowers and mosses being picked from the ground as you went about gathering pharmakeia for your draughts. 

He appeared, bringing his musk while his hand clamped down over your parted lips. Pressed your front firmly into the tree, hands scraped gold raw by the silver birch’s peeling bark.  

“Don’t.” He growled upon your demand to turn around. “Face the tree.” 

And you obeyed in tandem with the hiss of something– his helmet– as it dropped to the dewy floor by your bare feet. A single kiss, seasoned with sparse prickled hairs was laid to the nape of your neck, a wondrous dichotomy to the events yet to unfold, noises of restraint on the tip of his tongue, the back of his throat. The skirts of your dress were gathered in messy haste, undergarments pulled to the side, revealing the shine of your own slick. How you dreamed in secret nights of this very moment. His taking of you, his claiming of your cunt— grunting while he invaded the tightness of your walls, flayed you open forever like a sacred text, ready for him to read once again. 

A large palm of his, gloved in leather, pressed to the nape of your neck where the notch of your spine ended and your skull began to curve, thumb pressed to flesh, fingers curled into gnarled hair. You gasped, cold air nipping the back of your exposed thighs, fully clothed still, yet bent to submission by the masculine will of him. Naked. 

The orgasm was The Mandalorians. And the Mandalorians alone. You never questioned the burning ache of pending release. Merely let it simmer in the tight heat of your walls at the mouth of your cervix. His noise still stinging in your ears, shocking the breath from your lungs. He took no time. It was a rush for his release. His domination of the witch of Aeaea. 

From that moment onwards, you imagined his lips, recited in drugged sleep to the egyptian cotton and goose down of your pillow. His irises. To write a poem on parchment about something you could not see, nor ever would per his and Herme’s telling. Fingertips itching to feel warmth of skin, not beskar. While his armour was smooth, buffed, polished to shine in rays of Helios's chariot, it was cold to the touch. You had his visage mapped in your mind. Well trodden by fingertips such as the paths by the tall cliffs. The Mandalorian. Nameless. Faceless. 

He spent each night for a fortnight in your bed. The first, he parted your legs himself, and the rest they were already spayed open for his wanting. He snuffed the candles with his thumb and forefinger, unsheathing them from his gloves before doing so. You watched with intent from the sheets as his visage dominated the tall door frame. Shoulders broad and intimidating the negative space he occupied. Only when he was shrouded in utter darkness did he remove his helmet, climb his way up to your parted lips. Curating a careful path from them, over the column of your throat, descending your navel to the forbidden fruit gleaming, ripe and juicy for his lips. Ready for his first damning lick of your sex. 

Like the apple in the garden of Eden, temptation on Lucifer's forked tongue, he delved deeper, rested his naked face between your tensing thighs. Broad arms, still sheathed in beskar curled under them, dragging you closer to his open mouth while your arousal, slick and thick as honey, drizzled out your weeping hole to his open, wanting mout. 

His tongue drew ellipsis over the twitching bud of your clit. Thick and firm, the tip pressing into your cunt, following your hot seam down to your quivering hole. He dipped inside, curling it to draw the taste out. You couldn't see his eyes. But you liked to imagine they were open to feast on the sight of your quivering and naked chest the best he could without the guide of the candlelight. Now snuffed into curling stings of smoke. Staring while you were shaking under the pleasure rolling up from your centre and cascading like a landslide down your spine. It made you shiver. The soft plush of your legs swallowing his exposed ears, the small, neatly trimmed curls tickling the sensitive flesh. His coarse beard, scruff scattered in a smattering over his sharp chin scratching your skin. 

A low groan rumbled from the back of his throat, your tang dancing with light feet over his taste buds And his nose bumped into your clit as he tasted more. Devoured your cunt like his last meal. 

It wasn't long before you felt the burn behind your eyes replicate in knots in your belly. Tightening at the mouth of your cervix while he ate at you. A cry of his name bursting from your chest as he flicked his tongue with vigour. He had one aim in mind. To taste your release. The sticky mess that would coat his lower face. 

“Give it to me.” He commanded. And oh, how you tried. You willingly left this realm while he licked at your pussy, his tongue languidly rolling up one side of your labia, up to your clit and circling it, then down the other side to plunge into your tight, clenching hole once more. 

You nimble fingers curled into his hair. It was coarse, wispy at its ends where it started to coil loosely. And you gripped it as you ground your core into his face. RIding and grinding into his face that was exposed to your quivering cunt. Not ready to part with the way his ips enclosed around your clit and added enough suction for you to see Ouranos and all the stars that tattooed his blue skin. 

You panted a chorus of heavenly oh’s. Breath came in heavy as he pulled back to spit. You felt it, cold in contrast to your own heat, drooling down to your slick entrance. It quivered when he added a finger, curling up from the second knuckle. It was merely one digit. But it stretched you out, had you reeling while he beckoned your orgasm closer to materialising in your belly. 

He could smell the musk of you and it was divine. 

He had your orgasm building and building into a near state of harrowing oblivion before he let it rip through you. The first wave was one of numbing pleasure. The one that fizzled through your legs until you were nothing but a mere speck for a second. And then it broke, like some great epiphany from him as an enigma. 

He stood, replaced his helmet, leaving you boneless. A quivering, babbling mess of sweat and slick in your own sheets.

[autumnaaltonen]

(listen, listen my two brain cells are working hard!).

Alucard with a sort of muscular s/o who has scars and stretch marks due to hunting/missions. She's seems intimidating/doesn't talk much and always takes things too seriously even with sarcasm. But secretly she just socially awkward and shy. Who's insecure about her body and how her muscles/scars making her look scary.

Maybe one day Alucard complements her for her work during a mission ((or one day she wears a dress for an event)) and catches her blushing cuz she nvr gotten a complement before.

Hehehehe, yesssss

Alucard With a Muscular, Scarred and Socially Awkward S/O

As an individual, you were one of the more experienced monster hunters out of all the other human Hellsing soldiers, you’ve got your fair share of kills from every variety of freak, be it vampires, ghouls or werewolves. However, while this fact should make you the most popular member on the team, it was unfortunately quite the opposite.

Spending so much time on your own on solo missions, even prior to Hellsing, has put you a little on the stiff side. You can tell when a vamp was about to slash a filed hand at you from a single twitch of the finger, or when a ghoul was capable of running rather than just stumbling based on the pattern of their steps.

But social ques like friendly greetings, sarcasm and self-deprecating humour have become lost to you over time, and it’s painfully noticeable to both yourself and to everyone around you. You were stoic silent, not in ignorance, but fearful of the mystery that has become your fellow human. Jokes fly above your head, and playful jabs make you question the people you surround yourself with, but you keep rationalising at the end of the day that it’s all in your head, and that your glaring is not going to make you any new friends. You felt like a wolf in a pack of sheep.

To add wood to the fire, you’ve also garnered a number of physical mementos from your work, like nasty scars from close calls with a mouth or a claw, moles and freckles from waiting in the sun before nightfall called upon your kill, and stretch marks from the various changes your body has gone through during your physically intensive work

So, you were a tad intimidating to most. But Alucard has always been different. He’s the King of weird and intimidating, so when he took notice of your insecurities despite your gifts, he just couldn’t have it.

“Do not waste your mortal life fretting over polished gold. We may not shine in the sun, but just as the moon dazzles at night, our aptitude is best performed in darkness.”

The both of you hit it off fairly quickly, to say the least. With Alucard by your side, your social anxiety is somewhat pattered down, as there is no way in hell that you could seem like a weirdo with him walking next to you.

Alucard makes you feel seen at the most unlikely of moments, laughing proudly while watching you kill on missions, competing with you on who could take down the most ghouls in one night, or checking on you every once in a while to make sure you were stocked on ammunition.

He even begins to give you words of affirmation and compliments that frazzled and dazed you every time.

“Even I could learn to fear the fury of your gaze, dear.”

“What an alluring sight you are, out of breath and blood-sated.”

“Careful now, if you keep fighting like that, I may just have to keep you.”

Alucard made you feel special and one of a kind, and for once in the best ways. And when he slowly starts pushing on your walls, and words become actions, you wonder why you ever second-guessed yourself.

But then there came the dreaded occasion of the UK Special Forces Division Ball, an annual celebration for the Queen’s most gifted soldiers, and of course Hellsing was hosting as usual, being the most indispensable military group of the time. To make matters worse, Sir Integra had chosen you to deliver this year’s welcoming speech, saying you were “the most exemplary standard for whom a solider of the Crown should strive to be.” And as his human friend, Integra also expected you to accompany Alucard throughout the night to balance out his attitude. Alucard agreed to your accompaniment without issue, even looking forward to not having to be forced into speaking with arrogant and imperious higher-ups.

Fuck that. Fuck this. YOU HAVE TO WHERE A DRESS!?  

You aren’t a ‘pick me’ by any means, but you cannot recall the last time you were anywhere near a pair of heels and lip-gloss, and that terrifies you. What the dress showed off your shoulders and arms? If you put on make-up, would you end up like the Matchmaker after Mulan threw tea on her? With your muscles and scars, what if you looked like a frou-frou G.I. Jane?

You don’t think you’ve ever had a near panic attack over such a trivial matter before, but it wasn’t trivial to you! For once, you were not even worrying about what others would think of you. Instead, all you could imagine is the fact that Alucard would see. Handsome, beautiful Alucard…he came from a background of Medieval opulence and royal refinery, a King who wore robes of ruby-dyed wool and a crown of glittering jewels, who had dazzling women at his beck and call to serve him in any way he asked.

You knew there was only one thing you could do: call upon your commanding officers. It took a lot of self-reassurance and determination, but it all pays off when you see the smiles on Sir Integra and Seras’ faces, both absolutely game to doll you up for your big moment. Sir Integra is a master-class in fashion, having three separate closets for her suits, gowns and decorative weapons. Seras is a social woman fresh out of police college, and was no stranger to what cosmetics looked best when clubbing or going to a fancy-shmancy gala.

You imagined that they would cover you up with a shawl, or cover your scars with concealer, but to your horror they instead slipped you into a sleeveless and tight woven gown and black heels that accentuated all your muscles and curves, as well as applied very basic cosmetics to just your face to make you pop.

Maybe this was a terrible idea.

But they don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and shove you out of your room and down the hallways into the ballroom, practically throwing you through the doors…and directly into Alucard’s back. Turns out he had been waiting by the entrance for quite some time, making a bit of a scary scene for all the other guests who needed to walk past him towards the dance floor. He was looking for someone, and everyone hoped to God it was for a good reason.

You were able to brace your hands in front of you after being thrown into your good friend’s back, knowing that even someone with your strength could not stumble him. When he turns around, prepared to scold whoever dared try to shove him, you brace for the impact of a bullying laugh or a disappointed frown, wrapping your arms around yourself like a protective shield and looking down at his boots.

But you feel his gloved fingers wrap themselves around your hands firmly, removing them from around your sides and resting them atop his chest. He then puts a finger under your chin, tipping your head up to look at him.

“I was starting to wonder when my second-half would appear. Though I see you kept me waiting for good reason, now you have become even more dazzling than the moon.”

You gape for a moment, taking his words. “Your second-half?” you question.

“Of course, why do you think I asked my master to keep you by my side tonight? A King requires his fair beauty on his arm.”

The sincerity of his words and the admiration on his face nearly brings tears to your eyes, settling yourself against him in relief as he pulls you closer. Gone are all the nerves that have been biting at you all day, and you feel prepared to take on the world (or at least deliver a greeting address) with Alucard in your ring.

[stygianoaths]

Imagine Jason approaching Nico to confess he's choosing rebirth over Elysium.

The reason why is because he never felt like the life he lived was ever his (y'know, what with being taken from his family and being raised as the champion of a god and child soldier) and so he wants a do-over. He wants a normal life, where he doesn't have to be a pawn in someone's chess game.

Meanwhile, as he is explaining this, Nico is trying to ignore just how eerily similar it feels to Bianca's situation, because what life did she live beyond taking care of him? Her life was never hers either. Still, he offers, against the screaming in his head, to see Jason through the rebirth process. The lost hero accepts. After all, not many can say they had the Ghost King personally send them off into the waking world.

"I'm gonna miss you," Jason says. Nico laughs, but there's no happiness behind it. They're behind the River Lethe now.

"No you won't," he murmurs, knowing the river's power firsthand, "but I will."

When Jason forgets and his soul is taken to a place no mortal can't follow, Nico fades into the shadows and wills himself to reappear before a small camp. He doesn't flinch when the hunters of Artemis point their arrows at him reflexively. It only takes a couple of seconds before the bows slowly lower once the girls recognize him.

Bianca's little brother.

Thalia tells them to stand down, walking forward and looking at him with electric blue eyes that are both distant yet knowing. They remind him of Jason's, though his were not as harsh or striking. They used to be gentle. comforting.

He will never see those eyes again.

"He chose rebirth," Nico chokes out, "Thalia, he's, he's gone."

And suddenly he's ten years old again, betrayed and grieving. Thalia catches him as he collapses to his knees, and he cries in her arms, inconsolable.

Why him?

Why her?

He doesn't know who he is referring to anymore.

Artemis ushers the other girls away with a neutral face, but she too is shaken by the sight of the demigods. The grief of her lieutenant and the son of Hades remind her of the fear that seized her when her brother was exiled, of what could have been when he was turned human. When the cries from the children of the Big Three reach her own tent, Artemis swears on the River Styx that she will never allow herself and Apollo to come close to such a fate ever again.

They are a tragic sight to behold, Nico di Angelo and Thalia Grace — a younger brother and older sister that don't belong to one another, yet holding onto each other like they do. As the daughter of Zeus's tears seap into his jacket, Nico briefly wonders that if Thalia is all he has left, then maybe it would be nice if Jason and Bianca had each other. As friends, perhaps. Siblings, even.

If the Fates had been listening in when he thought that, there was nobody present with them to know.

[notbadforafailedvessel]

Batcina AU - Part I

Not many knew Alcina had another transformation.

Just like her draconic form is the signal of losing control of her mutation, her bat form indicates her most healthy state, feeding herself correctly to keep the reins over the cadou.

However, it's not a form Alcina is fond of turning into because as a bat she's more fragile and vulnerable, making her feel mortal.

Also because it made her feel humiliated. How was it possible that a woman of her height, capable to provoke fear and intimidation ended up turning into a tiny creature that could be considered adorable?

One night, Alcina decides to go out on her own after listening some gossip about hunters, once again, planning to attack the castle, wanting to deal with it once and for all instead of waiting for them.

She spots the group right away, the gang not even bothering to go unnoticed with the torchs in their hands.

Alcina wonders, boringly, licking her claws clean, if humans were becoming more stupìd. She had killed the group so easily. Why even trying an attack when it seemed they didn't even bother to come up with a plan to at least make it thrilling?

The last thing she expected was finding herself surrounded by a bunch of people in the next second.

The village didn't count with such quantity so it was clear that people from other places had joined for the assault.

She fights without hesitation, but sometimes her height ends up being a disadvantage despite her strength.

Alcina had never faced so many people at the same time, much less people who actually counted with a plan for the confrontation, and even though she would have prefered to deal with this on her own, she was aware it wasn't going to be possible.

Despite it wouldn't be enough to kill her, the large amount of weapons coated with holy water and silver bullets striking her skin over and over again were enough to make an impact and weaken her.

She decides what's best is let Mother Miranda know what they are facing, that this time it's wasn't just an heretic group from the village as they were used to but a whole mob.

Alcina turns into a bat, small and nimble, confusing the people around her by her sudden disappearence to fly away.

But there was a hunter with hawk sight that noticed the creature that wasn't common to see in those lands, who is capable to hit the target, piercing Alcina's wing with his arrow before she managed to disappear entirely from his sight.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You live on the village but somewhat isolated, after experience the nastiness of people, you preferred it that way.

You are getting ready for bed when you listen a crash outside, startling you.

After waiting a few seconds, making sure there wasn't further commotion and waiting for your heartrate to slow down, you decide to investigate.

Holding a lantern, you step outside your cabin, not finding anything out of the ordinary at first sight but then you notice the fallen buckets in the front of your garden shed, knowing that's not how you left them.

You squat in time to see a bat shaking its head, shaking off the dizziness of the hit, using its wings in an attempt to get up just to tumble to the right side, which makes you notice the tear of the wing membrane.

"Oh, you poor thing," you whisper, placing the lantern on the ground, your eyebrows furrowing with concern. Without thinking, you reach out to take the animal in your hands, not surprised when it hisses at you, finally realizing of your presence, but you do stop before achieving your goal. "I know, I know. I just want to help you, I promise." You keep one hand close to the animal so it realizes you are not a threat.

The bat freezes, its golden eyes locking with yours instead of inspecting your offered hand, looking at you in what it could be considered, a scrutinizing way.

You are befuddled by it, used to animals getting desperate in their attempt to escape and seek refuge to lick their wounds. Instead it felt like you are being inspected.

Alcina would prefer to escape and leave the mortification she is feeling behind. But after the unexpected attack she received, it wasn't possible for her to turn into her human form, she was too weak to even try it.

She looked at the person in front of her, knowing she would have to depend of them for a while because she was aware that she wouldn't be capable to make the rest of the flight. For a reason she had fallen during it. Unable to fly or move easily, it wasn't going to be possible to take care of herself on her own.

It wasn't something Alcina liked but needed, reason why she still hissed at them once she finally moved, crawling carefully over the offered hand. She hoped they were smart enough to get the message.

You smile when the bat settles down on your palm, noticing its body fits perfectly on it, its healthy wing folded against it while the other one is spread to the side not to aggravate it further.

You scratch softly the bat's head with your index finger, in a reassuring gesture, to then take the lantern with your free hand and stand up, making your way back to the cabin.

Alcina huffs at the petting. "It seems they aren't smart enough. Or at least they are smart enough to remove their finger before I had the chance to bite it." She sighs dramatically, already abhorring what would come in the next weeks.

Part II, Part III, Part IV

I would like to make a special shoutout to @ctitan98 because watching them share their AUs inspired me to finally share mine instead of keeping them in my mind and most likely never coming to life in any way, lol. Thank you so much for blessing us with your Alcina content!

[taevbears]

Magic Shop - 09

One day, when I wake up at 3:00AM, unable to sleep, I will look next to me and you will be there, Sleeping peacefully beside me. And suddenly, the world won't seem so lonely.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Jimin/Yoongi focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.5k ⤑ warnings: implied smut, interrupted foreplay, heavy angst, oppression against mages, jimin as a warning himself tbh ⤑ note: surprise!! i took a few months off from writing this story to pursue other story ideas, but i ended up wanting to come back to this one lol. i have another story in the works, but i do plan to start posting semi-regularly for this series again soon ^^ i hope you guys enjoy! this takes place right after the final of pt 1.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

From the distance, the haunting, sonorous tolls of church bells ring in the hour for the sleeping town of New Haven.

Once. Twice. Three times.

3:00AM. The witching hour.

Monsters and magic are most active at this time of night. Their connection to the Veil – a realm of dreams and demons – is at its strongest peak, opening a window of chaos and mayhem and spilling them into the living world.

For mortals like Park Jimin, the witching hour is dangerous. Humans become prey to these abominations. Kidnapped and sacrificed, they become targets of dark magic, tortured for a mage’s sadistic greed and pleasure.

By law, those cursed with magic are condemned to their high towers and impenetrable castles. But there are some who’ve managed to escape their confinements. Who’ve garnered sympathy from fools they’ve bewitched, and who’ve hidden their unnatural powers to inconspicuously blend in with human villagers.

That’s when the hunters come in.

While the wardens are busy keeping the monsters locked away, allowing them to practice tricks and spells deemed safe by the Devoted, and silently killing them through deadly trials like the Harrowing, it’s the hunters that protect the towns and villages from mages outside their gilded prisons. People who, without law or regulation, take matters into their own hands when facing the Wicked.

History speaks of the war between humans and mages. The human sacrifices, the stolen blood of innocents, the dark summonings, the ominous hauntings, the deals with devils. Magic, after all, is the root of all evil.

And the latest of these horrendous acts is what happened at Blackstone Castle.

Several apprentices rebelled against the teachings of the Devoted and performed a forbidden summoning. The mutiny caused mages to attack the wardens, unleash creatures beyond nightmares into the mortal realm, and escape the castle’s defenses. The leader of the apostate group is rumored to have transformed into a hideous beast that the Warden-Commander had successfully defeated, but by the time the monster was slain, it was too late. Many mages have fled from Blackstone and found refuge in nearby villages, causing fear and suspicion to strike within the communities.

Any mage, surrounded by the temptations of the mortal realm, is a dangerous threat.

Two months ago, when news of Blackstone Castle hit the capital, there was no doubt in his mind what he must do: he had to return to his hometown in New Haven, make sure there aren’t any mages infiltrating his town, and eliminate the ones he finds.

With the key to his grandmother’s floral shop and the blessings of his family from the capital, Jimin returned to town, surprised to see not much had changed since he was last there.

Except for one thing.

The unnamed shop across the street.

The one odd place in town, full of mystery and wonder. What once was ruins and a disarray of abandonment is now warm and cozy with whimsy and comfort. Colorful and mix-mashed, yet in a way that works together. Like it was made of magic. 

And, to his dismay, the cutest shop owner he’s ever seen works there. One that he’s hopelessly fallen head-over-heels with. 

Even though he highly suspects that you are, ironically, the very thing he hunts down.

Jimin reminds himself of that as he sits back on a chair and faces the bed. Under the gleam of moonlight, the dagger in his hand shines. Embedded in the blade are ancient symbols of the Devoted. Once penetrated, it will render even the strongest mage useless, temporarily paralyzing them from using their powers as the effects of the enchanted markings sink in.

An heirloom and a prized possession of the Park family. One that his father used when he became a hero of the town. One that his grandfather used to kill the mage that murdered his parents. And now, one that belongs to him.

He flips the nullifying weapon in his hand over and over. Keeping it close to him, just in case.

In case you suddenly wake – snapping your eyes wide open, the colors of your pupils turning into an eerie, bright gold – and lunge toward him in inhuman speed. In case you levitate off the bed and hurl things flying in his direction. In case the devil’s mark sears red on your skin during the witching hour and turns you into one of them.

Wicked.

Like those corrupted mages – easily trading their souls for wealth, beauty, power, and fame – that the Devoted has warned them about. Like the ones he’s seen attack humans with their unnatural strength and twisted powers. Like the ones who had surely killed his parents.

After all, magic is the root of all things evil.

And you, a mage, are a monster. A human vessel that will inevitably succumb to the darkness and unleash chaos into the world with your cursed power.

His eyebrows furrow together and a deep frown is set on his plush lips

You – the most evil, dangerous, wicked thing to ever exist – continue to sleep soundly on his bed, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil. The black dahlia – doused with potent lavender extract – is disposed of, but it’s already done its job. Keeping you unconscious. Keeping you vulnerable. Right where he wants you.

Time ticks on and Jimin tightens his grip on the dagger. He has to act, and he has to do it fast. He’s certain once the sleeping effect wears off, you’ll attack him.

One minute passes. Then, two. Then, three more.

Abruptly, Jimin stands with the dagger at hand. The chair legs scoot back against the wooden floorboards as he steps closer to you, blinking away the drowsiness from the potent side-effects of the flower.

Was he wrong?

No, he’s certain you’re one of them. He’s certain that one or more of them in that shop are like you as well. Mages and monsters.

Yet, there’s no trace of a golden glow in your eyes. No objects suddenly falling out of shelves, no picture frames or doorknobs rattling, no unexplained knocks or whispers. No faded bite mark that a demon left as a claim on your skin.

His fingers barely touch your neck when you make a sound.

A moan.

Of someone’s name.

Jimin freezes, eyes wide as he looks at your sleeping face. He can’t be certain if you said his name or—

A chuckle of disbelief comes from his lips and he runs his fingers through his hair. This should be easy. Insultingly so.

Yet, Jimin finds himself sitting back on the chair and facing his bed for the fourth time that night. He’s had that dagger in his hand since you fell asleep hours ago. He has every intent to kill you and the others in that shop.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he silently takes you in. The distinct features of your face that he likes, the way your lips part slightly as you sleep, the slow sound of your breath and the way your eyelashes touch the top of your cheeks. The way the moonlight is cast upon your bare skin, almost making you look ethereal in the night. 

He thinks about earlier that afternoon, when you came to his shop, picking flowers to lay out a message of apology and confession. He thinks about the genuine surprise in your face when he admits that he loves you too, that you already have his heart. He thinks about how he meant what he said too.

And as the shop closes and the afternoon rolls into evening, he thinks about his hand in yours as he leads you upstairs to his room. He thinks about your shy giggles when he kisses your neck, your collarbone, and the top of your breasts until you start to remove your clothes for him. And as Jimin takes in your body, he whispers that you’re beautiful without realizing the words came out of his mouth.

This should’ve been easy. If he had known you were a mage sooner, before he caught any feelings for you, perhaps this would have been different. 

But tonight, Jimin sheaths the enchanted dagger and lets you live for one more night.

Your dreams. They always start like this.

High walls of a strong, impenetrable fortress made of dark brick and stone. Willow trees in the courtyard, and a prism of sunlight peeking through the weeping, green leaves. Rows of old books stacked together on long shelves with worn bindings and stain-aged pages. Faceless apprentices in uniformed robes, passing through the candle-lit hallways from one lecture to another, their disembodied voices echoing down the long passageways. Plated armor and concealed weapons of guards that look down at you with disdain.

Blackstone Castle.

Once upon a time, that place was all you’ve ever known. An institution where you’ve excelled too well in the classroom lessons and teachings. Where your exposure to the outside world is limited through words on paper and stories from fellow apprentices of what they could remember before coming to the castle. A so-called home where you had the promising future of becoming one of the best enchanters among your peers.

You lean back against your chair in the lecture room. Notes in your handwriting are on the desk, detailed with whatever you thought is important to note. You tilt your head, frowning a bit in confusion as your hand continues to write.

You’re … actually not sure what you’re taking notes on. The longer you look at the scribbled words, the more ineligible they appear.

The sound of giggling catches your attention. When you glance at the source of the noise, you drop the quill in shock.

Mina?

At the back of the lecture room, Hoseok and your old roommate are snuggled together. Neither of them are paying attention to the lesson, shamelessly making out and touching each other through their clothes. You see her running her hand through his hair and tugging him closer as their tongues slip in each other’s mouths. Although they’re sitting a bit far, you could hear Hoseok as if he’s right next to you. You hear him tell her, “It should’ve been you that made it out of the Harrowing instead.”

“Hoseok?” you utter, your voice pathetically soft. Why would he say that?

When you finally force yourself to look away, Namjoon stands before you. No longer are you in a lecture room, but at the library. His face is completely neutral. Guarded. He asks you, “What is it that you want?”

“I just…” you begin, but before you could answer, he pushes you down on the table.

“I’m not your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less about what we are,” Namjoon tells you as he pins you down. His hand flips up the end of your dress. “There’s only one thing I want from you.”

When you exhale, it’s shaky. Like you’re trying not to sob.

Before anything happens, Namjoon is shoved away. When you turn around, you’re in the ritual room. Seokjin has his hands full, fighting beastly creatures from the Veil with a sword and shield. He shouts for your help, and it takes you a moment to process that you’re in the middle of a battle.

You need a weapon.

The tower rumbles and debris falls from the ceiling. Your heart races as you look through the rubble for a wand, a tome, anything to help Seokjin.

But you’re too late.

An anguish scream cuts you deeper than any blade. Panic and fear seizes your entire body as you watch him slump to the ground. The battlefield is deathly quiet, and you’re sitting there, alone, cradling his head on your lap and crying apologies for what feels like hours.

“Scary.”

Through your tears, you see one other person standing in the distance. You sniffle when you recognize who it is. “Jungkook?”

“You did that to him,” Jimin says from the other side of the room, opposite of where Jungkook is. “You couldn’t save him. This is your fault.”

“I know, but—”

“Scary,” Jungkook repeats, both of them looking at you like you’re something evil. Black smoke swallows them whole, thick as clouds. It takes over the room, Seokjin, and eventually, it takes over you as well.

But once it clears, you find yourself in a séance room. Taehyung sits across from you in a black and gold cloak and a crown on his head. He shuffles tarot cards and asks you the same thing Namjoon does. “What is it that you want?”

“Love,” you answer. Exhausted. Heartbroken.

You don’t want to be seen as a monster. You don’t want to have these doubts. These insecurities. This nightmare.

He sets down one card in front of you. The Reversed Hermit.

Betrayal. Isolation. Paranoia.

As it sinks in, you realize that Taehyung has disappeared. Vanished into thin air. Truly, you are alone again.

You’re not sure how long you sit there in the deafening silence. Wax melts from the candlesticks as the fire burns down the wick. The shadows in the room stretch longer, surrounding you in darkness. But the thoughts in your head are loud, calling you loveless, weak, incompetent, never enough.

Suddenly, you hear music playing. A soft, faint melody from a piano.

You don’t want to be here anymore, so you run toward the sound. A sense of déjà vu hits you as you exit the séance room and find yourself in a long, dimly-lit hallway full of identical doors. Just like your Harrowing, each door you enter leads you to the same hallway over and over and over and over. Despite how gentle the music sounds, you feel desperate to reach it. To see him.

Relief washes over you when you finally do.

In the domain where you first saw him, Yoongi stands behind a piano, dressed head to toe in all black with silver jewelry. One hand presses the black and white keys of the grand instrument, absently playing a tune you vaguely recognized. One he’s certain would bring you right to him.

He glances at you expectantly. A faint smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

Without hesitation, you run toward him, lost and then found. Grief, fear, doubt, and anxiety melt away the moment you’re in his arms. “Yoongi!”

Your familiar pulls you close, brushing his lips against your hair, just as a sharp sting claws into your inner thigh. You whimper and gasp from the pain, squirming in his arms, but Yoongi grabs your jaw and continues to kiss you like nothing is happening.

When the pain subsides, Yoongi finally lets you go. You back away from him, breathing hard, and finally, you notice the golden color in his eyes. He doesn’t move as he peers down on you, lips tugging a bit with an arrogant smirk.

Hesitantly, you lift the bottom of your dress to look at your thigh. A strange, red mark is visible on the skin.

Yoongi merely tilts his head and reminds you, “You’re mine.”

A loud wail is what wakes Jimin from his sleep. His body jerks in reaction, and before he realizes it, he’s tumbling off the chair and onto the wooden floor.

As clumsy as he is, this isn’t unusual for him. He is, however, surprised to see your black cat glowering down at him. Its tail swishes back and forth slowly as an annoyed grumble comes from its chest.

“Sorry,” you apologize, holding a blanket over your body with one hand and shutting the window with the other. “He was crying outside.”

Jimin blinks slowly at you, and then turns his attention back to the cat, who continues to glare down at him. He squints back and whispers, “Isn’t it too early in the morning to be a menace?”

Yoongi gives a grunt of a meow. As if Jimin should’ve known better than to question it.

“I should get going anyway,” you tell him, your voice soft and sad. If Jimin wasn’t wide awake before, he certainly is now. He pushes himself up and sees the redness in your eyes and face. You’ve been crying. “I didn’t mean to stay overnight.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jimin gently asks, jumping to his feet. He starts to approach you, but stops himself. His eyes linger at the blanket you have loosely around you, and how, somehow, you’re even more beautiful to him in the daylight. 

You peek at him with wet eyes. Even now, there’s not a trace of wickedness in them at all. “I’m okay. Bad dream.”

Yoongi meows and rubs himself against your legs, trying to comfort you. A wry smile touches your lips as you bend down to pet him, quietly assuring him again that you’re okay. It feels like this is something that happens every now and then.

When the connection between you and the Veil are the strongest.

It’s subtle, but it’s still proof that Jimin isn’t wrong about what you are after all. He’s never been to a Harrowing, and he knows very little about the Veil itself, but mages leave their physical forms behind to enter that dream-like realm. In order to seek truths, gain knowledge, enhance their skills, and meet both good and evil spirits that reside in that world. It shouldn’t surprise him that mages that fall into a deep sleep during the witching hour could be affected by the Veil.

Jimin crouches down to meet your eye-level. There’s a pleasant smile on his lips as he reaches over to rub your back. “Why don’t you stay a little longer?”

You feel good after a long sleep, a good cry, and dipping into the warm water of a bath. The others at the shop are worried about you, even though you’re just across the street. Yoongi tells you as much as he helps you wash up.

“I know. I meant to go home last night.”

Your memory is a bit fuzzy, but that much, you know, is true. Sometimes, when it feels like you’re dreaming in the Veil, it’s hard to distinguish reality and dreams. You look at your thigh, where you envisioned the devil’s mark to be, and see nothing out of the ordinary on your skin.

He doesn’t say anything as he continues to rub soap on your back and shoulders. It feels nice. You start to lean in on his touch and sigh with content. Then, he asks, “Did anything happen?”

“Other than the obvious? No. I just fell asleep,” you answer, almost certain that there isn’t more to the story. Wake pulled you out of sleep as gently as the nightmare ended, and as you laid on Jimin’s bed, you were overwhelmed with emotion. Every detail, every word from your dream, you remember it. But through the tears in your eyes, you saw Jimin sleeping on a single, uncomfortable chair, facing you and dressed in his clothes from the night before. He had let you sleep on his bed throughout the night, watched over you, and kept you safe. And somehow, just seeing Jimin there with you after a terrible nightmare only reassured you that you were okay. That a dream was just a dream. “I really like him, Yoongi.”

“I know you do,” is all he says. You don’t need to face him to know that he isn’t entirely happy with it. “I just want you to be careful around him.”

“I will, Yoongi. You don’t need to worry about me.”

It isn’t long until you’re out of the bath and dressed up. The two of you are relatively silent as you face a mirror and use magic to fix your hair. Then, Yoongi asks, “Do you want to talk about your dream?”

You glance at him from the reflection. He’s dressed in black clothing and silver jewelry, just as you imagined him. His eyes, however, are normal. Dark, inquisitive, and gentle. Unlike the haunting yellow from your nightmare.

“No. Not yet,” you reply, your hand twitching as you try not to touch your thigh. There’s no pain and no strange mark, but it’s the first time you’ve dreamed of it. The mark that Yoongi mentioned once in passing to further strengthen a bond between a mage and their familiar. “Soon, though.”

You’d think those kinds of dreams would’ve stopped by now, especially after hearing from the boys themselves that they loved you. It feels silly to even question it when it’s obvious that they do. Yet, the same dreams keep occurring over and over, filling your mind with doubt and insecurity.

“Okay.” Yoongi stands next to you as you finish getting ready. “You look nice today.”

You grin at him, a little shy from the compliment, but tease, “Are you saying that I look bad other days?”

“You look nice every day,” he corrects with a shy kiss on your cheek. Then, before you could retort, he’s back into his cat form. You smile at him lovingly and hold him in your arms, feeling the rumble of his purrs vibrate from his body.

Downstairs, Jimin finds himself in a bit of a dilemma.

He has nothing to eat for breakfast.

Work has him traveling out of the shop often, delivering bouquets to customers, picking up new supplies and flowers, and even stopping by local guilds to pick up any magic-related reports to take up. It doesn’t occur to him that he’s rarely home to stock up on his personal pantry.

He’s still rummaging around for something when you finally come down with Yoongi in your arms. “Jimin?”

“I’m back here!” he shouts, grabbing pieces of stale bread and a half-empty jar of strawberry jam. This will have to do for now, he supposes, though it clearly isn’t enough for both of you. When you enter the back room, he tries to bite into the hard, jam-coated piece of bread and asks, “Breakfast?”

“I think I’m good,” you tell him, looking around. It’s notably empty, you realize, as you turn your attention back to his plate. “Is that all you’re having?”

“Maybe it’s a better idea that we eat out,” Jimin agrees, pushing the half-bitten bread aside. He isn’t hungry for that anyway. If it were up to him, he’d take you right back upstairs and have you stay with him a little longer.

He takes a quick glance at the cat in your arms, who seems to hold a steady glare at him. As if daring Jimin to make a move on you while he’s around.

You smile at him. “I know a place we can go.”

Across the street, the aroma of baked bread and brewed coffee welcomes you into the little shop. Seokjin is up bright and early, humming quietly to himself as he carefully puts pastries on a display case. Hoseok pours coffee into several mugs and adds cream and sugar to everyone’s preferred taste. Namjoon is doing an inventory check with Taehyung and Jungkook, writing down what he needs to shop for when he goes to the market later that morning. But as soon as the bell chimes from the front door and you step through the threshold, a sweeter welcome awaits you.

“You’re home!” Taehyung exclaims with a big, boxy smile and pulls you and Yoongi into a tight hug. The cat meows in protest in your arms, but it’s muffled when Jungkook giggles and joins in the group hug as well.

“We were worried about you, pretty girl,” Hoseok comments, holding two mugs for you and Yoongi in his hands, though he seems relieved to see you.

“Yeah, you didn’t come home last night,” Namjoon agrees as he and Seokjin come into the entrance together.

“Sorry, that’s my fault,” Jimin says from behind you. He steps into the shop with a sheepish smile on his face, seeing that he’s faced with the very over-protective men you live with.

Seokjin scoffs under his breath. “That explains a lot.”

“Is it okay if he stays for breakfast?” you ask them, hopeful. There’s a bit of hesitance, as if they’re not really sure what to make of you and Jimin still.

“Yeah, why not? The more the merrier,” Namjoon quotes with a shrug.

Your heart feels warm at their acceptance. Seeing the boys all together in one room, all seven of them, it feels right. It feels complete.

Both Hoseok and Namjoon look at you with so much care in their eyes, scolding you lightly for making them worry. Seokjin smiles at you, alive and well, before he takes Yoongi from your arms to help him in the kitchen. Taehyung and Jungkook refuse to leave your side, still keeping you in their hold until Seokjin bats them away.

If this is all a dream, it’s the cruelest one yet.

Hoseok hands you your coffee and smiles brightly at their guest. “I’ll get another mug. Do you like cream and sugar in your coffee, Jimin?”

Breakfast goes surprisingly well. Laid out on the table are sunny-side eggs, crispy pork belly, toasted bread with butter and jam, a bowl of fresh fruits, vegetable pancakes, and leftover stew from the night before. It’s a feast compared to what Jimin tried to eat at his own shop earlier that morning.

Everyone sits together on the long table, happily chatting and eating. Hoseok feeds Taehyung and Jungkook food from his plate before he eats himself. Seokjin tries to fish for compliments from you and Namjoon for working so hard in the kitchen. Even Yoongi – who strangely appears when the cat disappears – takes a seat beside you and immediately reaches into the fruit bowl for tangerines. 

It’s a little strange, but Jimin seems to fit in really well. Both Hoseok and Taehyung include him in their conversations, asking him what his opinions are about if tigers or bears are the superior animal or the types of cool dances that they’ve seen at the town square. Namjoon and Seokjin make him laugh at their witty banter, and how they bring out the goofiest sides of each other. Even Jungkook is excitedly clapping his hands and giggling at their antics before cutely asking Jimin if there’s any pork belly left on his side of the table. And while he’s certain that Yoongi hates him, he’s surprised when he is offered a piece of his peeled tangerine.

There’s a sense of belonging that Jimin can’t really describe when he’s around you guys. Something that he hasn’t really felt anywhere else.

It’s a stark difference to when he returns to his lonely flower shop afterwards.

Floral fragrances greet him as he walks in the door instead of the aroma of baked good and brewed coffee. There���s a notable silence that fills the room when there aren’t any customers around, unlike at the lively shop across the street, where there’s always music playing and people talking. It feels cold and empty, far from the warm and homey feelings of yours.

Running a shop by himself keeps him busy. It’s hard work and long days, but he likes the smile on people’s faces when they find exactly what they’re looking for, or when he delivers things he’s made to his customers.

Today isn’t any different. Except, it is.

Because just across the street, you’re there. He can see you welcoming curious people inside, checking on the plants outside the shop that Jimin helped you garden with a raven perched on your shoulder, going to the market as Namjoon holds your waist and Jungkook holds your hand, and coming back to the shop less than an hour later and being showered with affectionate greetings from the others upon your return.

Because Jimin can’t stop thinking about how you and the others across the street are supposed to be wicked, evil, vile creatures that feast on the blood of innocents and animal sacrifices instead of tangerines, coffee, and bread. That you must’ve bewitched humans to do your bidding, even though it clearly seems that Seokjin has a mind of his own and wants to be with you all. That you’d use your power to bring chaos and destruction to the world instead of love and comfort in your shop.

Because Jimin realizes that he can’t kill you because he loves you. Even though he shouldn’t. Even though it’s his job to eradicate people like you from his town. 

Yet, here he is, thinking about how concerned he was when you woke up crying. How troubled he felt when he wasn’t able to make breakfast for you. The way he felt a bit nervous entering your shop and facing your other lovers. How they all tried to make him feel welcomed anyway, even if there’s some uncertainty with how they feel toward him. How the morning after with you was nice until he had to return to his shop alone.

The enchanted dagger upstairs is locked away in his room, waiting to be used. Eager for that next opportunity when you’re alone with him. But Jimin, who watches you from his shop’s window with a forlorn sadness, wants to keep you with him a little longer.

And that, truly, is a problem.

“We need to talk.”

Your heart stutters nervously at the words. Silently, you exchange looks with Seokjin, who is washing dirty dishes next to you. But you know why Namjoon is suddenly summoning you all for a family meeting.

At the market, you noticed it. You’re certain Namjoon and Jungkook did too with the way they tightened their hold around you.

In the town square, they were there.

Hunters.

Many of them are talking about Blackstone Castle and the mages that have escaped. They’re asking townsfolk if they’ve noticed anything suspicious, advising people to stay indoors at night, taking notes of any clues they find through their investigations. The three of you manage to avoid them on the way to the market, but it’s clear that their very presence is a threat: the hunters are here, and they’re looking for you.

“It’s too dangerous now,” Seokjin whispers, worried. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as you sit beside him. “We’ll be safer if we get out of town.”

“Where would we go?” Namjoon questions, a bit frustrated. You can tell he’s trying not to raise his voice. “This is our home. We’ve just started to settle down.”

“All the rooms aren’t filled yet,” Taehyung points out as his eyes lock with yours. He’s been certain that Jimin is the last one. That the final room in the shop belongs to him.

Jungkook sighs heavily. “What do we do?”

Running away isn’t an option. You guys already did that, and you don’t want to leave this place behind. Fighting them would only bring more unwanted attention toward you and the shop. Even you’re a bit stumped with what to do next.

“More and more of those hunters are coming into the town,” Hoseok says with a frown. “We have to be careful. We have to look out for each other.”

Namjoon nods his head. “Just as we always do.”

Yoongi catches your eye this time. “Are you sure we can trust him?”

The others look at you as well. Yoongi doesn’t have to say his name for you to know who he’s talking about. You’re the one who knows Jimin the most. They trust your judgment, despite any divination readings Taehyung has on him.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “I trust him.”

By the late afternoon, as things begin to wind down, you return to the flower shop with containers of food from your shop. “I don’t know if you ate your dinner already, but we made these for you.”

He smiles fondly at you, touched by the sweet gesture as he takes the containers from you. “Thank you, baby. I’ll eat it well.”

As he leaves to put the food away in the back for later, you take a walk around. His shop is empty of customers. Various flowers in full bloom sit prettily on display in arrangements and in pots. Everything is beautiful and pleasing to look at.

Though, you notice that there aren't really any personal touches in Jimin’s shop at all. No family pictures, despite his father being a hometown hero or that his grandmother had owned this shop prior. No food that he keeps in stock with favorite dishes and snacks. Even his bedroom feels minimalistic compared to what you’re used to at one of the boys’ rooms. 

If he ever decides to live with you, in that empty room on the second floor, what would his room look like? Would it be like this shop? Would it be something different?

As you lose yourself to your train of thoughts, you nearly trip over something.

A bucket of lavenders.

It sits innocently near a painted cart among other buckets of bouquets. Its calming fragrance is masked by the other floral scents in the shop. But it makes you back away from it as if you just saw something truly horrifying.

Arms suddenly wrap around your midsection and pull you into their chest. You nearly scream, wiggling to get free, until you hear Jimin’s infectious laughter behind you. “What’s wrong? Did I scare you?”

“Yes! How dare you!” you playfully shout, relieved it’s just him. He chuckles and starts to kiss your cheek and neck in apology. His lips feel soft against your skin, and your hand reaches back to touch his neck, turning a bit to kiss him back.

It’s easy to be swept up in him. To get lost in the heat of the moment and not think about anything or anyone else. To push your worries about bad dreams, hunters, and the other boys aside and just melt in his arms. You trust him. You know you can.

But something is bothering you. His mouth moves away from your lips to kiss your jaw and the spot just below your ear, and as you turn your head and sigh in content, you notice the bucket of lavenders again. 

“Stay tonight?” he asks against your skin, eyes hazy with lust. 

You’re tempted. But you answer, “I can’t, Jimin. Not tonight.”

With the hunters in town, you have to make sure that the shop is safe. Hoseok and Namjoon have prepared to sage the entire shop to ward off any harmful intentions to you and your family. And you need to cast added protection spells on the doors and windows so that your shop won’t be easy for them to find.

He hums but places another kiss on your face. “We got a bit carried away last night, didn’t we?”

You glance away from the lavenders and meet his gaze. Again, you remind yourself that you love this man. You can trust him.

“Jimin, about last night…” you begin. His smile fades a little as he arches an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “Did something happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m having a hard time remembering how the night ended.”

No matter how hard you try, you can’t remember how you ended up falling asleep in Jimin’s room. The last thing you remember is telling him you had to go back home. That Yoongi would be upset, and Jimin said—

“You just fell asleep, babe. Nothing happened.”

“I see.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It's not that,” you tell him, not sure how to state this without sounding accusatory. You glance over at the lavenders again and quietly admit, “I just feel like I’m missing something. I don’t know. Did… Did something more happen?”

His hands cup your face, warm and a bit calloused. They contract a bit with the cold, silver rings around his fingers.

“What makes you think I’d do something to hurt you?” he questions, trying to sound a bit offended. But for a split second, you could’ve sworn he almost looked amused.

“I don’t know.” Your eyes flutter close as he tilts your face up, greeting you with soft kisses again. His thumb gently caresses your cheeks, hands slowly gliding down your neck, fingers tracing your collarbone. Despite the light touches, your heart pounds hard in your chest, and you feel yourself chasing after his lips. 

“Should I remind you then? About last night?” he asks, nose bumping against yours and a hand against the back of your neck.

“I can’t stay,” you remind him, eyes fluttering close. But his lips feel so full and soft when he kisses you. Each kiss entices you for more, and he chuckles when he feels you tug on his bottom lip.

“Then should we stop?”

He pulls away from you a bit, teasing you, but you don’t allow him. Your arms wrap around his neck as you needily answer, “No. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” Jimin praises and rewards you with another heated kiss. You could only moan in agreement, far too distracted to pay attention to anything but the way his tongue slips into your mouth or the way his touch warms your skin, igniting memories of last night with the way his hands roam your body.

With Jimin, it feels easy to love. It feels easy to simply be. Whether as friends, lovers, or something else you can’t quite place, it feels easy to get caught up in the moment with him. Without overthinking of what this all means, without the worry of what you are to him, without caring when the dream ends.

Your back hits the counter, but it doesn’t break the kiss. He feels you over your clothes, and your hands tug him closer.

“Jimin…” you gasp, panting hard when he finally pulls away. He spins you around so your back is against his chest again. Vaguely, through the lust-filled haze, you’re reminded of the night before.

Visiting the flower shop, an apology and a confession, a night spent together. You were trying to get home. Yoongi was upset. The tattoo on Jimin’s chest. A black dahlia.

“Don’t think about it,” Jimin whispers against your skin. He starts to push you down over the counter. Had you been able to see his face, a chill would’ve run down your spine from the way he looks at you in that very moment – like a predator to prey. “Just trust me.”

The chime of a bell snaps both of you out of it.

“What the hell?” a last-minute customer exclaims, unable to open the door all the way to get through. As if, somehow, the door got stuck. “Jimin? Are you there?”

Immediately, Jimin backs off and clears his throat.

“Yes, I’ll be right with you!” he answers, running his fingers through his hair. He stands over you for a moment, protectively shielding you from anyone coming in. When he glances over at you, however, you’re already smoothing over the front of your clothes. Your face is a bit flustered, but not a single hair is out of place. “Are you okay, love?”

“I’m fine, Jimin. I should get going anyway,” you tell him bashfully. He kisses you one last time before he finally lets you go.

With ease, you pull open the front door as the customer nearly stumbles inside. 

When you look back at Jimin, he seems to be staring at you and the door curiously. Then, his eyes lock with yours, and he gives you that same, knowing smile from last night.

The kind of smile where he knows something you don’t. A secret he isn’t meant to find out.

And it dawns to you, just then, that his smile was the last thing you saw yesterday before your world turned black.

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster (Three. Shadow)

Summary: Eros and Psyche retelling with soulmate!AU elements. Morpheus x oc/female reader

Master List

Chapter Track: "Dream State (Dark Day)" by Son Lux

18+ (violence, swearing throughout, referenced child murder)

TAGGING: Tag lists break my posts, BUT I reply to comments the day of new chapters, so you'll get a personal update every time you stop to chat. ;)

A/N: Very short chapter this time. Mental health is quietly shitting itself and making writing difficult. Thank you all for your patience.

3: Shadow

The Not Deer smelled blood.

It smelled her blood, sweet with sand, ripe with magic. And this time, unlike all the others before, she had not escaped – and she was alone.

Teeth aching to close on her living flesh, thirsty for the hot blood flecked with its master’s power, it screamed.

She’d fallen too far inside her little moving fortress, and it couldn’t reach her. It could see, though. It could smell. And wasn’t it wonderful? Fresh red bloomed on her face, filling the night with the scent of the hunt.

If it could get through the window or beat down the door, it could have her. Finally. Eat her all up and lick the fluids off the carpet, crunch her bones and chew the soft fat of her pretty brain. Then sleep off a full belly under a pile of last year’s lacy, skeleton leaves, as it did after every good feeding. It caught children who left the path and slipped just beyond their parents’ sight, drunk men daring the dark on a summer’s night, anyone foolish enough to put too much faith in their own skills under the trees when the sun went down. In a hundred years, there had been many.

But she would be the best meal, and the last, because word already spread that the lord was returned, and soon the Not Deer would be missed. Urgency fueled its attack, but its antlers caught on the window frame, and though its legs stretched too long for a deer, its hooves couldn’t strike the valley between the seats.

It rammed the van, furious. Grey foam frothed from its lips, turning the forest floor black with rot where it dripped.

“What are you doing?”

A century was not long enough to forget its master’s voice, and as it heard the whisper of eons at its back, shock froze over delight.

It stalked the dark long enough to recognize prey. It was not a deer, but it froze like one now with fate ringing in its ears. The hunter waited as the Not Deer came to rapid terms with its renewed vulnerability, and the nightmare turned, clicking, to face the Nightmare King.

The Not Deer did not have words. That was not how it had been made. But the king didn’t ask his question in search of an answer.

The Not Deer was meant to hunt in dreams, to threaten and rip at hunters who killed too many, to remind those without caution what they had to fear. But it feasted on living mortals instead. The Corinthian introduced him to the fantasy, made the cut in the nightmare’s mind that festered into fantasy, and when it had the chance, it left the Dreaming to hunt.

It consumed a young dreamer who’d left his bed to catch frogs under the full moon, and the boy had tasted well. So, the Not Deer found new dreamers to eat, glutting itself on muscle and marrow. Until it smelled her. Then it ate others in frustration, because nothing smelled as good as the one with his maker’s name scratched in her heart, glowing gold, drawing him like a new lamb’s bleats or a dying rabbit’s shriek.

The King of Nightmares simply looked at it and understood. He’d already known. He must have. It was in his nature as it was in the Not Deer’s to admire screams.

“You have betrayed your purpose.” The king spoke softly, and the Not Deer bowed, the tattered flesh on its antlers dragging along the dirt. “And you have chosen most dangerous prey.”

Dangerous not because of herself, for all her tricks. Dangerous as the mate of a greater monster, a jealous king with dominion over every night terror and the things night terrors feared.

Eyes darker than any shadow, hard and unforgiving as obsidian, the king stalked nearer. The Not Deer didn’t move. It had witnessed the Endless’s wrath, had seen others of its kind unmade, and knew it was too late to flee.

A low grown and the chime of shifting glass disturbed the dead quiet of the forest, and the Not Deer wondered if the king’s mate would wake. It hoped. She cared for the weaker ones, the creatures of the Dreaming that did not bite into the waking world as the Not Deer had. Even though it hunted her, hurt her, she may show mercy, may ask for it.

But she slept on, disturbed by other nightmares in the Dreaming, and the king’s frown grew deeper. His attention splintered between worlds, and just as her dreaming had led him to the threat in one world, her distress in the other called him home.

Perhaps he would forget. Perhaps the Not Deer may escape to find more dreamers and keep itself as itself.

Even as it began to imagine what it could chase, kill, taste with more days of freedom, the Nightmare King’s eye turned back to it, and he lifted one long arm to spin the Not Deer back to sand.

“I am needed elsewhere. I have not the time to return the tortures you are owed.”

It bucked while it still had legs, roaring and clicking as body, senses, and mind fell grain by grain. If it thought its master would return, it would never have dared. It did not want to disappear. It wanted, it wanted…

“And yet.” The king stooped to take a handful of the witch’s salt from the circle she’d made around her vehicle, and he sifted it between his fingers, thoughtful as the ash stained his fingertips. “Since it was her pain and fear you stole –” he lifted his hand above the half-formed Not Deer and let it rain down “– let her repay it.”

The black salt caught inside the nightmare and burned like it never had before. It wasn’t discomfort. It wasn’t an unpleasant, stinging shock. It was agony without end, and the Not Deer abandoned any idea of survival or escape in an instant.

It needed to be unmade. To stop. To forget.

Its lord did not lift his hand, and the legless, heaving beast of horror whined in desperation.

“Perhaps this taste of her power will satisfy you.”

If it had words, it would beg.

The Nightmare King’s attention had already shifted back to the Dreaming, however, and he paused only long enough for his shadow to swallow the wailing thing before moving on to where his mate’s dreaming mind called for help.

Then all the Not Deer knew was the darkness and its pain within it. Her scent twisted through the sand, and soon it summoned no hunger, no greed, only unbridled terror it could not escape. Not even when it tore itself apart.

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

In the Dreaming, the Nightmare King pulled her from the nightmares and held her in his hands for the first time, negotiating an opportunity to soothe her, to feel the places in their souls where they met, so she might understand…

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

She woke with something damp between her legs and glass studding her palm.

Spears of light poked through the forest canopy, glinting sharp through her eyes, into the sensitive spaces behind them, burning her retinas from the inside out. Rainbows danced in the broken window, reflecting in the shattered diamonds over the floor. The driver’s seat. Her clothes. She decided to wait before trying to move, get her senses together, give her head time to steady before she did anything stupid. Like grating herself like Parmesan cheese on the remains of her window.

She closed her eyes for a minute. Breathed.

Something was off.

Her mouth was dry as cotton, and her tongue did nothing to help her equally dry lips as she pulled it over the broken, peeling skin.

Damn.

She felt…

Confused.

Hurt from her encounter with the Not Deer, but also well rested. Lighter almost. Like she suddenly had more attention, more energy, even though she had glass in her hair and a situation she strongly suspected may lead to a UTI if not immediately addressed. Which of course led to the question of what the hell she and the monster had really done in her sleep, if it was just the wettest dream of her life or if she ought to be running for Plan B. She didn’t think he’d go that far without asking, not after he so carefully sought permission. And wasn’t that a hell of a thing?

Sought permission. Honored it. Soothed her and held in a way her waking mind struggled to grasp. The concepts melted in her thoughts like ice as she woke, dripping away in cool streams of sensation and memory.

He’d been grand, and big, and frightening, but he didn’t use his power to crush her, as she’d expected.

After so many years anticipating the worst, she wasn’t sure what to do with this reality. Where things hadn’t gone tits up. With a creature beyond a god who assumed he had boundaries before she even drew them. Where the worst hadn’t happened.

Her monster had made a riddle of himself for her to solve. She’d need time to come to terms with that. With him. After a lifetime of the darkest expectations… well.

Getting up, though. That came first.

She shifted, wary of the bad, bad glitter threatening an unplanned trip to an urgent care as she picked the best spots to plant her elbows.

Rolling onto her knees, she tried to crawl forward, but something snagged her foot, and she finally noticed the pull of a grip around her ankle. Her heart didn’t skip a beat. Her breathing didn’t stutter. None of the normal, horrified reactions burst from trembling lips and teary eyes.

She knew that hand.

Looking towards the passenger seat, she saw the desiccated arm vanishing into the shadows under the pilot chair. Dead skin flaked away from crusty patches of old blood, and misty black shadows curled within, ready to turn into nightmare claws to terrorize small children.

The fingers squeezed, questioning.

“I’m alright, Jeff.” She reached down to pat him, glad to find something as expected and faithful as the needy nightmare worrying after her wellbeing. “It’s okay. Not Deer still lurking outside?”

Two quick squeezes – No.

“Good.”

The bastard must’ve given up when Jeff arrived. Never did like an audience, and Jeff could be a real pain in the ass if he wanted to be. Pretty literally.

As far as she knew, Jeff was only the arm. Maybe he had a few more inky swaths of darkness he kept tucked under low furniture, but he never manifested anything past a bicep. He didn’t speak with words, only by touch, and they’d learned to communicate by squeeze ages ago.

Once upon a time, he’d been the first nightmare to find her, and on the last night she had a family, he’d clung to her leg like a shackle – warning her, begging her not to follow her curious ears to the raised voices outside her door. Ever since, even though he had terrible timing, she never doubted his intentions.

The touches in her dream with Morpheus told her a lot of other things she wasn’t fully prepared to analyze.

She hadn’t had a fucking cup of coffee yet. She couldn’t be expected to contemplate the single greatest threat to her continued freedom before caffeination. Simply unreasonable. Inhumane.

So, she shoved it out of her mind – again – and climbed out of the mess. Her first aid kit was in the back, under the narrow bunk where she usually slept. She popped the plastic case open with her back to the sliding door, the Not Deer’s dent poking into her peripheral vision as a grim reminder of the previous night.

Another nearly.

She had a strange relationship with death. Dozens of near misses over the years made the sickening adrenaline rush and following crash routine. Some people could schedule their periods in their planners. Some days it felt like mortal peril penciled itself into hers. She was afraid, but too often, and she’d lost the technique of it.

As she plucked a few stubborn bits of glass from her hands, cleaned the tiny holes they left behind, and bandaged everything up, Jeff made himself useful. He swept up the fragments he could reach in long sweeps, pulling it all into the fathomless darkness of his home under the pilot seat. When he’d cleared that side of the van, he withdrew and manifested on the driver’s side. He reached up to pluck shards from the cushions, and his fingers spidered along the carpet, seeking little dangers he could remove from her world. In the time she took cleaning herself up and shaking the glass out of her hair outside, the nightmare cleared the interior of debris.

“Thank you, Jeff,” she said as she hauled herself into the driver’s seat.

She caught her own eye in the rearview mirror. She caught her first look at the bloody goose egg over her left brow, too. Could be worse, though the swelling might get some attention she didn’t want. Rusty red flakes peeled away from the trails leading into her hair, and she tentatively poked the edge of the swelling. Like running her tongue over a canker sore – she just couldn’t help herself, even though she knew how it would end.

Yup.

It hurt.

She groaned, dropping back against the headrest. Fan-fucking-tastic. The scratch needed cleaning and antiseptic, which meant a stop at the nearest convenience store with a bathroom. Nothing like scaring some gas station clerks first thing in the morning.

At least gas stations had coffee.

Fresh air breathed through the broken window, washing the smell of fear and blood out of the van. She took in as much as she could.

She needed to go, but she wasn’t sure where, and going never got her very far without a destination. Her pockets had bottoms, and she’d hit the seams fast if she didn’t budget gas money.

Where should she head? What did she need?

Out of sight, Jeff softly grasped her left ankle. He hadn’t been so clingy in ages, and she wondered what the little nightmare knew that she didn’t. It wasn’t like he was a great conversationalist. Their talks took creative shortcuts – yes/no taps, Morse code, even a Ouija board once or twice – but they still chewed up time she wasn’t sure she had, and even when well-equipped, Jeff wasn’t chatty. He couldn’t help her work through this chaos.

Oh.

And there was her answer.

Help.

People.

She needed people. Folks to talk with, to lend her an ear and a shoulder to cry on. Someone to distract her, friends who knew her and would keep her safe from rogue nightmares like the Not Deer – maybe even help her pick apart her feelings over the star-eyed Endless and his… attention.

People. Friends. Plural.

Checking the date on her phone, she did some quick math and determined where her favorite group of miscreants might be found. Hadn’t they sent her a text? A few weeks ago? She’d been so consumed with the pull across the ocean to the Burgess estate she barely read it. No time or attraction. Now, though – different story.

Destination in mind, she put on her sunglasses to protect her eyes from the inevitable wind through the open window and turned the key. The van grumbled to life. Bouncing over the rough little road she’d called home for a few nights, she smiled to herself. Happy in the moment, alive with a little purpose and a goal to chase, on her way to friendly faces.

Only after speeding an hour down the highway did she realize what felt so off – the pain in her chest had eased.

Next chapter: Link

[ciaossu-imagines]

Saiyuki, Circus/freakshow AU

Of course, anon dear! Thank you so much for the request and I am sorry it took so long to answer! I hope you'll enjoy the headcanons nonetheless and the AU I came up with!

So, in this universe we're setting up here, there is still a fantasy element. Magic does still exist, but it's very much not a normal and everyday thing. Most people can go their entire lives without seeing anything magical. Magical items and creatures tend to be hard to find and hidden away and those people with magic in their veins…they learn to hide it very well as they are often feared or exploited.

There is one place people can go to experience magic at least once, if they have the money to pay to experience it, of course. And the magic people and creatures they see are definitely exploited. Gyumaoh's Magical, Mystical Travelling Circus is something everyone has heard tales and rumours about. If you're lucky enough for them to come to your town, people flock to even catch a single glimpse of the brightly coloured tents, hope to sneak a peek at the 'sideshow's' hidden within. People will sell precious treasures, take loans against their homes, anything to see the show because the Circus represents really the only chance most people will get to experience something truly magical, especially in a safe manner and though people do fear magic, they are also enchanted and curious and full of the desire to witness it for themselves.

The Circus sounds wonderful, at least to the normal citizens of the world. The truth is, for those 'employed' by the Circus, and that word is in quotes as I'm using the term extremely loosely, the reality is very different. A magic hunter from the time he was very young, Gyumaoh built his Circus by stealing magical items and capturing and enslaving any creature or human with magic in them. But wait, you might say. How can a mere mortal enslave someone or something that is clearly magical and probably has defenses and powers they do not?

One, a lot of magical beings, be they creature or animal, are normally either outcast by society because of that attitude of fear and distrust, or they're trying so hard to hide their magic that they've ended up homeless, just barely scraping by if they're not homeless, they've ended up without families and close friends to better keep their secrets, or they've ended up in worse situations, with much more powerful people using them, oftentimes for extremely hard and dangerous labour.

Gyumaoh seems to have an almost uncanny luck for finding those magical things and creatures, and even more luck finding the downtrodden or exploited magical people. He seems nice and charming at first and the Circus is so well-known at some point that these magical people really believe the well-crafted and sold lies Guymaoh or his people give them…that the Circus can give them a clean, soft, comfortable home full of people who will love them, and they can use their magic to entertain people, to show the general populace that magic isn't a bad thing, but a wondrous one. Gyumaoh is good with words and charm, as are his fellow recruiters, his mistress Gyokumen Koushou, and his right-hand man Dr. Ni Jianyi. They're wily, silver-tongued and it's very, very rare they need to use force to get what they want, though all three of them are capable of doing so. Normally the magical people sign the contracts to join the Circus all on their own…and these contracts themselves are magical.

The second these magical beings prick their fingers and put their bleeding fingertip to the paper, as is the way to sign it, they sign over their lives to Gyumaoh, become his to control and command. These people, because of the contract, cannot seem to get further than fifty feet away from the Circus once the contracts are signed and if they do, the contracts are written in such a way that the person would be in unimaginable pain every second if they did venture further than that, making them easy to track down and bring back, if they did not return willingly themselves.

Gyumaoh's Magical, Mystical Circus really does succeed and it makes Gyumaoh himself a very rich man. Gyumaoh travelled alongside the Circus for many years, but because he is only human himself, he does what all people do. He grows older and older. He exploits magic he's found to extend his life and his health, but nothing completely stops the passage of time and he is growing old and sickly. He's currently not able to continue travelling with the Circus and it's rumoured among the Circus folk that he might finally be on his death bed, though they know better than to honestly hope for such a thing.

While he can no longer be there, day to day with the Circus, it is left in the hands of his beloved left-hand woman and aforementioned mistress, Gyokumen Koushou. And if the Circus folk thought Gyumaoh was bad…this woman is brutal, cold, and honestly seems to get off on making the Circus folk miserable. She sees them very much as less than human and she's cunning and crafty enough to do anything to achieve her own goals. And what are her goals, you might ask? For one, she wants to be absolutely filthy, stinking rich. Not only does she want a fortune of her own, but she wants the huge fortune Gyumaoh himself has amassed, and rumours state she might not only be behind Gyumaoh's illness but his wive's recent disappearance. For another, she wants the secrets to magic and to know how to harness those for herself.

Which is where Gyumaoh's trusted right-hand man comes in. Dr. Ni Jianyi seems to have with the Circus for as long as anyone can remember. Though he, in title, serves as the Circus' doctor and is supposed to look after the health and wellness of every single magical person, he's really with the Circus because Gyumaoh and Gyokumen Koushou both allowed him what he really wanted - research subjects. He's allowed to perform countless human experiments on those with magical powers as he seeks to gain all the knowledge about magic, what it truly is, where it comes from and why, and how normal, every day people can use and harness it. And he performs these human experiments with an almost terrifying zeal and level of sadism that makes him, quite honestly, the most feared person among those who are 'employed' by the Circus.

Now to go into the actual members of the Circus. Son Goku has actually been with the Circus the longest. Nobody's quite sure just how long besides those running the Circus. He was, in fact, Gyumaoh's first recruited member, sold to the public under the name of 'The Immortal Boy'. He is magical, yes…he never ages. Not even Goku himself knows where he actually comes from or how long he has been alive and he heals from all wounds. Members of the crowd are selected during Goku's exhibit, where he is chained to the floor, hands and ankles shackled, and those selected get to do any amount of harm, especially things that would kill normal folks, to prove his immortality. For his entire servitude with the Circus, when not on display, Goku was kept contained in a cage he cannot escape from, with only Circus' upper three as companionship. Gyumaoh couldn't allow his precious treasure to have any freedom, independence, or chance of escape, especially as Goku is not only his biggest draw and the crowd favourite, but is sort of a cautionary tale among the other Circus members of how much worse things can get whenever they feel the need to rebel.

So, Goku had never known anyone but Gyumaoh, Gyokumen Koushou, and Dr. Ni…that is, until the Circus 'recruited' Genjo Sanzo. Sanzo was an orphan, left to die of exposure in a basket on the river. He was found, at that time, by Ukoku Sanzo, who gave the baby a name and took him in. Ukoku raised Genjo with a completely normal life…almost. See, both Ukoku and Genjo were people blessed with magic, and Ukoku drilled it into Genjo early on that their magic was to stay hidden, to never use it. He told the young boy what Genjo always thought were just tall tales, cautionary tales, of a group of evil thiefs who came to steal magic if it was ever left loose and who would kill anyone who got in their way. But, unbeknownst to Genjo, at least at that time, not only were the tall tales all true but his precious father figure, the only person Genjo ever grew close to and loved, was the only member of Circus to ever escape, to ever thwart the contract and though his name was different then, he's become the stuff of legends to the Circus members, their own bedtime story.

Though it took years and year, Circus did find Ukoku though. In particular, Dr. Ni found Ukoku, who had formerly been his second-favourite test subject, right behind Goku. Honestly, it was only due to Genjo accidentally breaking the one rule, his magic exploding on a group of older boys who were badly bullying and almost torturing him. That hint of magic led Circus to investigate and when they investigated, Ni recognized Ukoku out in town. While Genjo was out to run errands, Dr. Ni tortured, interrogated, slaughtered Ukoku and, when the boy came back, Ni abducted the just tweenage age Genjo to take back to Circus.

Genjo is an odd addition to Circus. After Ni's repeated taunts about how Ukoku's death was all his fault, after all his experimentation on Genjo, Genjo refuses, even under torture, even under Ni's experiments, even under threats and severe mistreatment, to use his magic. Not only won't he use it for Circus, he refuses to use his magic again period. He had broken the rule once, after all, and it had led to the destruction of his whole world. He would respect Ukoku and love him moving forward by making sure to never break that rule again. So, since he cannot be made a side-show, and to continue his punishment and try to get him to break and grow compliant, Sanzo becomes the servant of even the servants. He's made to serve, set up, clean up, cook and feed the many performers and Circus' top three. He's underfed himself, exhausted physically and allowed little rest time. However, it's through that work that Sanzo meets Goku and the two strike up an odd, but enduring friendship. In the little time Sanzo can scrape out, he ends up camping besides Goku's cage, and the two boys grow to rely on each other, make each other feel stronger, more normal.

And the two boys grow to three and then to four with first the addition of Sha Gojyo. And oh boy, my lovelies, buckle up because the story of how Gojyo came to be a part of the Circus is not for the faint of heart. Gojyo was a bastard child, born out of his magical father's affair with a normal woman. The woman, after learning her child would likely be born with some degree of magical ability, and of her lover's own magical abilities, was disgusted, devastated and frightened. She wanted to get rid of the unborn child and would have…if Gojyo's father had not stopped her, held her captive until she birthed the child. The official story is she died in childbirth but only three people know the truth…Gojyo's father was actually married and his wife, after learning of her husband's affair and after months of having to look at his lover and take care of her snapped and attempted to kill Gojyo's mother. Gojyo's father stopped her, at first…then he made a bargain. He allowed his wife to butcher Gojyo's mother, with the compromise that she never harm his bastard son and agree to raise him alongside their legitimate son, Sha Jien. The worst part? Jien might have been very young, but he was old enough to realize what was happening and he witnessed the whole thing. However, the wife kept to her side of the bargain, raising Gojyo, though reluctantly so (as in she very much ignored and insulted him at every opportunity), at least up until Gojyo's late childhood, when his father died. After that, with her husband no longer around, her rage at the child grew and she started to brutally beat him whenever she could. Jien was always Gojyo's best friend, his protector, his beloved big brother, and Jien stepped in to calm his mother's temper, to protect his younger brother. What with Gojyo's father being magical, the wife being magical, and Jien being magical, the family had always been on the Circus' radar, but they didn't swoop in to grab anyone until that day…when Jien's mother tried to kill Gojyo. It was chaos and Gojyo's own magical powers awakened that day, though in the end it was Jien who actually killed his own mother, doing so to save his brother.

Gyumaoh was the one to actually take in the brother's. Well, kind of. See, it was decided that taking both into Circus as performers or servants would be too risky. The two together would be too much a source of support to each other, would give each other too much confidence and power. So Gyumaoh, in the aftermath of the chaos, when the boys were too dazed or, in Gojyo's case, unconscious in the wake of his powers, separated the two boys. Sha Jien was the boy left conscious, the one most aware, the one considered the most powerful and the one who Gyumaoh decided was the biggest threat. So he used a threat of his own - join Circus, and with Jien's superhuman strength and proven willingness to kill, become the private guard of Gyumaoh's own son, Kougaiji. And in return, Gyumaoh would spare the life of Jien's precious little brother and would take him in and give him a good life somewhere lovely. Too bad Gyumaoh doesn't exactly keep his promises, though Jien, renamed Dokugakuji to hide his status as the missing Sha Jien, witness and person of interest in his mother's murder, spent most of his life believing that Gyumaoh had.

Gojyo meanwhile, was taken immediately to Circus, told that his whole family had died and that he had been the one who killed both his 'mother' and his brother. Ni performed various experiments to enhance Gojyo's weak magical strength, told him he was giving the boy the chance to atone by using his magic, the magic that had murdered his family, for something good, for the amusement, astonishment, and delight of people. And so Gojyo becomes the Circus' strongman act, though he isn't treated much better than most of the performers, and still has to abide by the strict contracts that make his time in the Circus more indentured servitude. However, it's during this time that he and Sanzo meet. The two definitely don't get along, they fight more often than not, but maybe it's because the boys are around each other's ages, the only kids really around each other's ages at that time, but Gojyo kind of becomes interested in making friends. He follows Sanzo on one of Sanzo's visits to Goku and the three meet and it's with the addition of Goku that the three of them really stumble into this dysfunctional, bickering, weird and wonderful little friendship.

A friendship that is only added to when the Circus recruits a sixteen year old boy named Cho Hakkai. Hakkai's another one with a troubled past. An orphan who learned to use his own innate magic, the ability to know things simply by touching a person or object, to survive, becoming an expert grifter and pickpocket, found, at some point in time, a girl named Kanan who he ended up falling in puppy love with. Together, the two of them managed to make enough money to settle into a small town together. They lived together, presenting as a young couple starting their life together, both of them keeping their magic secret. Problem is, their magic was very similar and, as their relationship grew more loving and physical, they learned the truth - they were actually siblings. By then, though, they were too much in love, they were already a couple and they wanted to continue living their lives together. Both of them were already on Circus' radar, but Cho became a real target after, on his travels to make money, he found an injured baby dragon, something very, very rare. He named the dragon Jeep and took it in. The possibility of gaining a magical person and a rare magical creature was too much for Circus and Jianyi was sent to bring them in. And he managed to bring Cho and Jeep in…by having his own fun. It's unknown how exactly Jianyi gained his knowledge but he knew about the siblings actual connection to each other and he let it loose, through the grapevine, of their being not only siblings, but twins, in an incestuous relationship. The village not only shunned them, but bullied them badly in the next weeks, to the point where Kanan could no longer handle it. Jianyi had properly called her as too weak-minded for Circus, it seemed, because under the extreme persecution from the townspeople, she took her own life.

Left grieving and with his life in shambles, the only happiness he'd ever found taken away, the recently re-orphaned Hakkai was left susceptible to Jianyi's offer. He could find a new home in the Circus, where he would be taken care of and could learn to really harness and improve his magical gifts…improve them enough to take revenge on the town that had caused Kanan's death. The Circus could give that to him. So he signed the contract without a second thought.

Too bad that Circus was definitely not what Jianyi advertised it as. Hakkai was experimented on and he did gain much better control and more power, but he was so heavily drugged up and exhausted that he couldn't even think about getting away. He became the Circus' slave, both keeper of Jeep (as the dragon refused to behave and obey anyone other than Hakkai) and an act as a fortune teller, which people paid handsomely for. Unlike Sanzo and Gojyo, who didn't get along at all at first, Cho and Gojyo really hit it off when they met. It was through Gojyo that Hakkai found his first friend and grew to find more friends in Sanzo and Goku.

The four boys grew together, talked late into the nights, and though they argued and fought and seemed at times to almost hate each other, their bond became almost unbreakable, though they were all smart enough to keep it under wraps just how much so it was. Sometime throughout their years together in the Circus, the idea of a break-out, of an escape from Circus, got tossed out. At first it was just talk, just a wonderful dream to pass the time but I think at some point, the four of them really began to take it seriously. They plotted, planned, studied…and it worked, because they found a secret. They not only figured a way to break Goku loose from his chains, but they find a secret, a way out and they orchestrate the second breakout in the entire history of Circus.

Now, Gyokumen Koushou and Dr. Nii are definitely not happy about this breakout, especially given how precious and treasured a few of those escapees are. With Gyumaoh sick, Gyokumen Koushou really runs the show and she hasn't just been running Circus, but she's been meddling in other things. Her lover's legitimate wife, Rasetsunyo…nothing can be proven, but it's a pretty open secret that Gyokumen had the woman institunionalized. Rasetsunyo, mother of Gyumaoh's legimate son and heir to his fortune, is so heavily drugged and the institution won't allow Kougaiji visits with her, on Gyokumen's orders, as she's Gyumaoh's power of attorney and she gets to make those decisions.

And this is something she uses to her advantage to manipulate and use Kougaiji. She orders Kougaiji to track down and recapture the escapee's, using his own team, consisting of his bodyguard, Dokugakuji, and his childhood friend and a magical person with the ability to heal, Yaone. However, she also adds her own child with Gyumaoh, Lirin to his team, with orders to her daughter to keep an eye on the team and let her mother know if they weren't taking their orders with the utmost serious attitudes. However, this plan doesn't quite go to plan because honestly, Lirin has never really been coddled or even noticed by her mother, has always been super curious about the world outside Circus itself, and because she was never allowed to meet her half-brother, she's really just interested in getting to know him and spend time with him.

So the story really becomes the tale of their breakout, of their race to keep Circus from finding them, and Team Kougaiji really getting into all these hijinks trying to first find and then recapture the Sanzo Group, since they always seem to evade Team Kougaiji or end up beating them and re-escaping. It's by turns fun, funny, angsty, and uplifting and if I was to sit and write out the story, I can guarantee this would be a long, epic one, with a large focus really being on the character's, their stories and growth, and the bonds the characters all begin to grow and develop with each other.

[thenightling]

Jaskier / Dandelion (What’s in a name?)

To my own surprise I’ve come across some Witcher fans who did not realize Jaskier and Dandelion are the same character.  One comment I saw even said (about Jaskier) “He’s a lot like the Dandelion character from the games.” That’s because... it is the same character. I have seen the question asked of “Why did Netflix change his name?” well, technically Netflix changed his name back to the original Polish.  (Jaskier = Yas-key-er in pronunciation.)    The Witcher started as a fantasy novel series (and short stories) from Poland where the books were originally called Wiedźmin. The author, Andrzej Sapkowski, was quoted as saying he’d prefer the title The Hexer for English language translations but no one listened to him. The title The Witcher comes from a made up class of monster hunters in the book series.  These monster hunters are trained since childhood and are physically enhanced to make them more capable of taking on supernatural threats. In the case of The Witcher’s protagonist, Geralt of Rivia, the transformation gave him enhanced strength and senses, yellow, wolf-like eyes, and white hair, giving him the nickname “The White Wolf.”  Witchers are also semi-immortal in that they don’t age as mortals do and don’t die by disease. Because of these transformations there is fear and superstition attached to them such as the misconception that Witchers don’t have human emotions. (Needless to say this is not true.)       In The Witcher novels, Geralt of Rivia (our monster hunter protagonist), is befriended by a flamboyant bard.  In the original Polish the bard was known as Jaskier. Jaskier directly translates to Buttercup but in English printings of the novels his name was changed to Dandelion (weirdly pronounced as Dan De Leon in the audiobook for The Last Wish).  

When The Witcher was adapted into video games, Jaskier’s name was again changed to Dandelion in the English language versions.  In some countries it’s apparently Marigold.   

Someone clearly decided the name Buttercup is just too feminine but... The character is kind of feminine.  Look at him!

When Netflix decided to make an English language TV show out of The Witcher Jaskier’s name was restored to the original Polish, Jaskier, but not translated to English (again, the translation would be Buttercup).

So yes, this is a bit of a Princess Peach / Princess Toadstool situation in that in the 1980s in the Mario Brothers video games the princess was known as Princess Toadstool and this carried over into cartoons and other media.  Her original name directly translated to Princess Peach and was restored in the 1990s.    So in regard to Jaskier / Dandelion... Original Polish novels = Jaskier (Directly translations to Buttercup) English language video games = Dandelion  English language novels = Dandelion  English language Netflix TV show = Jaskier.

And to complicate things even further, Jaskier isn’t even his original name.  It’s sort of a stage name.  His original name is Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.  No wonder his shortens it to Jaskier.  He’s also got a secret alias of The Sandpiper, which he uses to help smuggle the oppressed to safety.    

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

On tears: a thread. Because "there are tears at the heart of things."

Certain kinds of beauty make people weep, the moments “when hope and history rhyme,” the arrival of the long-awaited, the revelation of a pattern in the universe that is also the revelation of your own power of making and perceiving order, and sometimes just extraordinarily intense beauty, including moral beauties—justice done, truth honored, order or wholeness restored.

Maybe from that we can extract a definition of beauty that has more to do with depth: beauty is one of the things that make you cry and so maybe beauty is always tied up in tears. Among the things that produce tears. Pain. Sorrow. Loss. Joy. Pattern. Meaning. Depth. Generosity. Beauty. Reunion. Recovery. Recognition and understanding. Arrival. Love. Mortality.

from The Faraway Nearby (2013), just in case anyone forgot the strength, the depth, and sometimes the joy in tears.

The people who think men shouldn't cry seem to think men should be the walking dead, inert, sealed up, emotionless (except for anger), which is its own kind of profound weakness, fear, timidity dressed up as strength. And think that people only cry from sadness, not from joy. I'd say Gus Walz was so strong he made thousands cry with his fearlessly open-hearted response to his father, but MAGA right-wingers mocked him because their sense of gender is a pink and a blue straitjacket (in proof of which, they also went after Ella Emhoff for not being gender-conforming enough).

I teared up at the Walz family reaction and lots of people I know did and Senator Warren teared up at the big ovation she got.

Dacher Keltner, as part of his research on awe, wrote "What most commonly led people to feel awe? Nature? Spiritual practice? Listening to music? In fact, it was other people’s courage, kindness, strength, or overcoming—actions of strangers, roommates, teachers, colleagues at work, people in the news, characters on podcasts, and our neighbors and family members. Around the world, we are most likely to feel awe when moved by moral beauty: exceptional virtue, character, and ability, marked by a purity and goodness of intention and action. ....Within the study of morality, it has long been the view that we find our moral compass in the teaching of abstract principles, the study of great texts, or the leadership of charismatic gurus and great sages. In fact, we are just as likely to find our “moral law within” in the awe we feel for the wonders of others nearby." We shed tears at the power of moral beauty, of strength, generosity, bravery, love, because it moves us, and not to sadness, but to depth.

Anand Giridharadas writes Kamala Harris choosing Tim Walz as her running mate struck me as unusually momentous from the moment it was announced. In the intervening weeks, the effects of this selection have felt as much cultural as electoral. But it wasn’t until I watched the hunter-coach-soldier-father-teacher speak last night that I made sense of it.

He is cementing the Democrats’ reclamation of five vital words.

Freedom. Patriotism. Family. Masculinity. Normalcy.

p.s. Seamus Heaney, from The Cure at Troy:

History says, don’t hope On this side of the grave. But then, once in a lifetime The longed-for tidal wave Of justice can rise up, And hope and history rhyme. So hope for a great sea-change On the far side of revenge. Believe that further shore Is reachable from here. Believe in miracle And cures and healing wells.

To make that phrase clear and make clear that it comes from Heaney. Who once translated Virgil thus: ‘There are tears at the heart of things.’

[Rebecca Solnit]

[hecatemoon87]

Part I ☠️

You intended to return home the day after Leo saved your life. But a blizzard had come through the night, preventing either of you from leaving the castle. Luckily, Leo had enough provisions to take care of you both.

During your first night at the castle, Leo explained who he was. "I am from a long lineage of monster hunters. It has been my family's duty for over eight hundred years. But I have been exiled, at least temporary," he said.

"Exiled? For what reason?" you asked with concern. He smiled sadly, "I don't wish to bore you with my family's troubles. I think you would be more interested in seeing the library?"

You are aware he is trying to avoid the topic. But you are interested in seeing what kind of library this old castle could hold. So you nod and follow him down the dark halls of the castle. Leo holds a candelabra, lighting the way.

A sound startles you, and you move in closer to him. He respectfully places his arm around you, pulling you in close. "It's an old castle, but fear not, I've ensured no monsters have made it their lair."

His body provides extra warmth, and his presence is comforting. You relax as you both make your way to the library. He leads you to a set of large oak doors and opens them. Inside is a huge library, with shelves embedded into the walls and winding stair cases to reach the upper stacks.

You gasp and run to inspect the condition of the books. Everything appears dusty but still intact. As you whisk about the floor, discovering one amazing find after another, you glance back to find Leo smiling. He seems to be enjoying your excitement for knowledge.

As the days pass, one storm after another continues to block your passage home. But you are having a splendid time with Leo. Though he still has not told you why he has been exiled or why he can heal quickly, all that is secondary. Being around him and listening to his stories of adventure fascinates you. And you are certain you are falling in love with him.

But he occasionally disappears into the castle and is gone for hours at a time. You wonder what he is doing. It probably is best you mind your own business, but curiosity gets the best of you. One time, you attempt at following him, but he caught you. He, after all, is a monster hunter. He can tell when he is being followed.

Sighing, he escorted you back and sat you down. You thought he'd be angry with you, but instead, he finally decided to explain. "I think it is time I tell you everything, Y/N. I was exiled from my home because I had an accident," he said. "Your family made you leave because you got hurt?" You asked in disgust. Leo smiled and shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. I was rash, and I made a mistake while hunting a vampire. It bit me," he said.

Your eyes opened wider from shock. But you were uncertain what that entirely meant. He sat next to you and held his hands in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees. "I am taking treatment and need to be isolated. I didn't want to startle you by this. That is why I leave at a certain part of the day in order to protect you."

"Do you drink blood?" You asked nervously. He nodded slowly, "Sometimes, but I don't need it to survive, not yet at least. I hope the treatment works, and I can resume being a mortal."

Over the next few days, you can tell that he is growing restless. "What's the matter?" You ask one afternoon. "It's nothing, please do not worry, I just am weary of being locked in for so long. I'm very grateful for your company, I'd probably gone mad by now without you.

You are touched by his kind words, but feel he is lying in some way. One night, you find that he had fallen asleep on a couch near the fireplace. You walk over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He suddenly wakes, his eyes black and fangs extended. He pounces on you and you scream!

The sound of your fear echoes through the room, breaking Leo from his trance. He releases you and backs away in horror. "I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry!" He immediately flees the room, leaving you alone in bewilderment.

Your fear ebbs away and is replaced with concern. Leo was a good man, and he needed help. You go to search for him and soon find him pacing the entrance hall. "Leo?"

He glances up and holds up a hand. "Please stay back, I'm not well." "I can see that. What would help you? Do you need...do you need blood?" You ask with uncertainty. He backs away further, but nods. "I've eaten food, but I still am so terribly hungry. I normally drink from evil doers, but being locked up for so long..." he said, trailing off.

Part III: Leo needs blood. Will you, dear reader, give it to him?

[chim-aera]

Fawn

I don't know what I'm doing. it feels strange, like I'm spinning out of orbit into nothingness, stringing together words for some picturesque portrait no one will ever care to see.

but now it's worse.

gods when I did become this pitiful, I like to scream, shout, claws out, teeth bared but I'll bow my head and sit at heel if commanded well enough.

like any good dog.

bitch.

I'm certainly one, but in more ways then one.

I've been fighting with myself, my entire life. but this, I don't like this. I'm drowning, not the sea, salt water cleansing and stinging no this is sickening sweet sap choking me, swelling into my lungs dragging me under.

I've traded my aptitude to be called a clever girl and for a scratch on my chin, no matter if that grip is slowly crushing me like an overripe pomegranate, skull and all, wincing as I feel my jaw click out of socket, only for rough fingers just to shove it back into place.

"it looks better that way, you've got nice cheekbones, hate to waste em".

whatever that means.

my heart feels like a frightened bird. wings beating, slamming itself against the cage bars, cages.

oh gods cages.

why, I've traded my own cage, flitting forward, sticking my head out to poke it into another, brassy trap, intriguing, but far less safe.

what if I do get out only to stumble into another, a fox purposely putting her head into the noose.

standing frozen, not fear, not eyes wide, headlights shone back, moon pale, terrified at the sight of the inevitable, but a moth dancing, feather light and frivolous to catch flames, on wilted, withered little wings.

I'm no Icarus, gods, no, gods are kinder. at least Apollo had the mercy to offer a tender, albeit burning caress, a kiss on the forehead, blazing and hellfire bright then sent him down to the cool, soothing embrace of the sea.

men have no such mercy.

what am I doing? this is a rope I've not yet fallen from, yet every day I wear it thinner.

gods I've met those I truly care for, that care for me in return yet I feel I'm only picking up a torch and setting myself alight in front of them.

I can't say I know how Callisto felt, when I do this to myself.

I write my own preordained, predestined downfall, leaning into open palms for gentle little praises, not even caring as those hands slowly slide down to my throat.

choking, gagging on my ineptitude, on magnitude, pride, hedonistic sadistic twisted desires.

tears stain my cheeks, stinging, and salty, and I bare my teeth but there's no fight left.

a hound rolling back her gums to yawn.

where did my claws go?

I want to feel clean, Hestia, Athena, I haven't been since I was three.

gap toothed and grinning and wild, all moon flowers and morning glories and mud pies.

now I'm not sure even what I am anymore.

siren, seductress,

victim, prey.

I'm not prey, not anymore, gods why do I make myself out to be?

when did I become so meek.

I'm not in danger so why do I actively seek it out.

I've not been marred by that many hands scraping my flesh but the eyes burn into me I want to disappear a Helm of invisibility, to evade perception, sight, to flee.

give me back my talons or better yet give me back my wings.

Demeter, sometimes I wonder, I think I'd prefer your arms, even if I seek safety from another. what if, and only what if, those stories were frivolous, fanciful little tales Kore told herself to keep herself sane while she spent six months in darkness, flinching at his touch.

gods when will these hands be curled around my throat when will this pain become bruises.

I'm so damn scared yet I'm only flirting with my own mortality.

my own fragility.

look at me

I may hold fight, but I go down like a wounded dove. dragged down like a deer with dogs ripping into him. antlers clashed against tree trunks.

I purposely step into the snare, my gaze pleading at the hunter only to watch him prolong my misery.

it isn't good.

Arachne, these aren't your webs, but they hold me fast, hooked into my skin like bitter little burrs, Artemis I know you've never fancied me, not since I was infinite and barking with coyotes, now my own fox bark is sharp and shrill screaming for the wilderness while I hypocritically tame myself.

how does one live untouched?

I suppose when one's father is a king with ways like his you understand quickly, how to survive.

but Artemis, I don't think I'd have shot Actaeon, what if he got to me first, hands digging into the soft of my thighs, and I go still, blank, waiting till it's all over.

"Zeus would have his way with you, you'd just have to let him hold you down."

I don't even know how to feel.

gods, I'd take a god, a giant, a bear. a forest fire, a storm, the noose. anything but that.

please let me keep running, don't let them snap my ankles, don't let them cut out my tongue, I don't want to be a nightingale no matter how much I sing, sister don't wed him. buzzard blights and rotting flesh, a child sacrificed for his father's sins.

don't let me go god tongued, divine destruction. at least Cassandra was avenged.

I wish to be Penelope-cunning, Clytemnestra-fierce, but I'm Helen all along, gods I may not be beautiful but I'm sought after all the same hands clasping and clawed and cruel, not all, oh surely not all!

of course not.

but the ones that are clever enough to truly snatch me, it won't end well for me.

please.

I'm scared.

I'm in a cage, cushioned, with lyre and lavender, why am I trading it for iron and bruises?

or even a golden collar pull me down by my chain, palms pressing against linoleum or carpet, my cheek pressed down against linens, a cage is better then that.

bring me to my knees and hold me down, I'll pull my own wrists behind my spine and let my gaze go soft, nothing. numb.

when did I become a fawn?

I suppose my mother taught that to me.

I never could fight back to her.

now look at me.

let's only pray whoever does catch me, is kinder then I anticipate, is kinder then a man, or better yet, gods, grant me strength.

[submission4]

The Case of the Uncool Ghouls, Part 4

Daphne turned in terror, her hands held up in a protective gesture over her face as one of the terrifying bishop’s goons advanced on her. “Maaaster,” came a deep and threatening growl from the recesses of his armour like suit, “shall I dispose of the mortal?” Daphne squealed in fear and collapsed to the floor. “Get away from me, you freak!” the red haired ghost hunter yelled at him. “You’re not real!” A dagger was raised and Daphne squealed again: “Scooby Dooby Doo! Where are you?”

“Wait!” came the Bishop’s sonorous voice. “Seize her!”

*

Daphne, hands tied behind her back and gagged with her own neck scarf, was flung unceremoniously onto the floor of an ante room by the goons who then stepped away from her. The Bishop of the Unholy Cross loomed above her, the dead eyes of the apparition surveying her with malevolence and contempt. The girl’s eyes blazed up at him. “I see you do not fear us. That will change.” the creature intoned. “We will seize your little friend and then decide what to do with trespassers who dare to disturb the sanctity of my unholy church!” The ghoulish skull faced priest swept away with a rustle of robes, his acolytes disappearing with him. Daphne peered after them into the gloom. ‘They can’t be real ghosts…’ she wondered to herself. ‘Can they?’

Sources: Pinterest; Zarli Win - ryusen.smugmug.com and Louder Sounds

[halothenthehorns]

Chapter 5: ANNABETH BREAKS THE RULES

Thalia began reading with her usual air of confidence the new chapter title, ignoring the pit of scorpions that felt like they'd taken nest up in her stomach for how much she was not looking forward to hearing details of how many times Percy and Annabeth had almost died in that place.

"Didn't she already do that in the last chapter just by sitting next to you?" Jason grinned at what a rebel this girl probably thought she was. Befriending children of Neptune, switching tables, her mother probably had a heart attack on the regular when she didn't eat her vegetables. He wondered if Annabeth pretended to hate olives as the ultimate act of betrayal.

"And look what came of that, some freaking answers," Alex nodded. "I am all for this continuing."

"Of course you are," Magnus chuckled to no one's surprise.

Percy alone looked a might concerned. It wasn't the unspoken rule of never stealing Mr. D's diet coke was it? Or maybe some horrible metaphor and she was going to break her own mind in the Labyrinth already?

Thalia started reading before he could freak himself out to much.

Chiron had insisted we talk about it in the morning, which was kind of like, Hey, your life's in mortal danger. Sleep tight!

"I thought every day was like that for you guys," Magnus said honestly.

"The Stoll's were almost smothered in their sleep that night for trying to make a lullaby out of it all, those were actual lyrics," Will agreed.

It was hard to fall asleep, but when I finally did, I dreamed of a prison.

A collective shiver passed around the room, not least because that hammered just a little to close to reality right now. Thalia's lasted the longest before she could control herself. Running free in the Hunter's had given her almost a healthy fear of being trapped again.

I saw a guy in a Greek tunic and sandals crouching alone in a massive stone room. The ceiling was open to the night sky, but the walls were twenty feet high and polished marble, completely smooth.

"That's a particular kind of cruel," Magnus shook his head. He lived surrounded by things he could never have.

Will thought it sounded like the best kind of option to have in a bad situation though. He glanced at the cracked ceiling in here, he'd never gone so long without seeing the sun in his life.

Scattered around the room were wooden crates. Some were cracked and tipped over, as if they'd been flung in there. Bronze tools spilled out of one—a compass, a saw, and a bunch of other things I didn't recognize.

"I bet the Hephaestus guys mock your hands for being as smooth as a baby's butt," Alex snorted.

"They weren't regular tools," Percy insisted. "I know most of the basics from all the times a schools punished me to fix something I broke. These tools looked like something you'd find in a museum, really twisty, and not sure they'd work, and did you hear the bronze? Like rusty scraps. I only recognized the compass and saw because you can't mistake that."

Their morbid fear began simmering into odd interest. Percy tried to describe it as something ancient, like this wasn't happening to somebody now. What could that have to do with anything?

The boy huddled in the corner, shivering from cold, or maybe fear. He was spattered in mud. His legs, arms, and face, were scraped up as if he'd been dragged here along with the boxes.

Alex swallowed a dry mouth. He knew the feeling of just being somebody's cargo, overlooked and trapped all at once, all to well.

Then the double oak doors moaned open. Two guards in bronze armor marched in, holding an old man between them. They flung him to the floor in a battered heap.

"Father!" The boy ran to him.

Nico flinched, even as a part of him realized. Ah, leverage, the oldest trick in the book to force cooperation. He glanced wearily at Percy and Jason for a moment before scolding his attention on track.

The man's robes were in tatters. His hair was streaked with gray, and his beard was long and curly. His nose had been broken. His lips were bloody.

The boy took the old man's head in his arms. "What did they do to you?" Then he yelled at the guards. "I'll kill you!"

"The appropriate response," Percy chuckled, but there was an edge to it that defied his lighthearted, usually chill demeanor. It was a feeling he understood all to well, wanting to avenge his mother.

"There will be no killing today," a voice said.

"Oh, just today," Jason echoed with a sour look. "Who knows when this nutjob considers midnight."

"I don't believe him anyways, I assume all prison guards are liars on principle," Alex sniffed.

The guards moved aside. Behind them stood a tall man in white robes. He wore a thin circlet of gold on his head. His beard was pointed like a spear blade. His eyes glittered cruelly.

"And now I agree with Alex," Percy said with a distasteful look at the book as well.

"I was sold at the pointy beard, the cruel glitter eyes just sealed it," Thalia nodded.

Nico's mouth twitched with extreme bitterness he'd been so easily fooled by somebody everybody else obviously knew wasn't a good person from the start. What did that say about him?

"You helped the Athenian kill my Minotaur, Daedalus. You turned my own daughter against me."

"Doesn't sound like a hard task to do," Will frowned.

"I could set Nico on the job to do it," Percy agreed with that ADHD ability of not thinking that one through.

Then it caught up to him, and he glanced guiltily at him. "Um, it's a compliment, because, uh, you're secretly likable?" He assumed anyways.

Because Nico was creepy and weird but Minos gave off the vibe of being creepier and weirder so it was something even he could handle. The Word thing aside?

Nico raised an unimpressed brow and decided no response was best. He probably should have laughed it off like Percy would have, but he just, didn't want to.

"You did that yourself, Your Majesty," the old man croaked.

A guard planted a kick in the old man's ribs. He groaned in agony. The young boy cried, "Stop!"

Whatever tension was bubbling in the room dissipated at once, as every one of them flinched at that.

"You love your maze so much," the king said, "I have decided to let you stay here. This will be your workshop. Make me new wonders. Amuse me. Every maze needs a monster. You will be mine!"

"I don't fear you," the old man groaned.

The king smiled coldly. He locked his eyes on the boy. "But a man cares about his son, eh? Displease me, old man, and the next time my guards inflict a punishment, it will be on him!"

Percy had already lived through Annabeth being taken to manipulate him, his mom had once been taken by Hades as a bargaining chip. He knew intricately well the feeling of powerless, and it really pissed him off this was just a dream. That he couldn't help.

The king swept out of the room with his guards, and the doors slammed shut, leaving the boy and his father alone in the darkness.

"What shall we do?" the boy moaned. "Father, they will kill you!"

The old man swallowed with difficulty. He tried to smile, but it was a gruesome sight with his bloody mouth.

An old memory flashed to Thalia's mind, one of those fuzzy, vague ones that emitted a stronger feeling than actual details because she'd so actively repressed her past. Jason had been throwing a fit, and Beryl had picked him up and put him in his room ignoring his kicking feet and swinging fists. She'd held the door shut as he cried on the other side and told him he couldn't come out until he had a happy face on while Thalia tried with all her little might to push her out of the way.

Finally it had gone quiet, and Thalia had been so scared. She'd thought it was a monster, like the ones that always lurked around the house before the distant sound of thunder would make them slink off.

His tiny little voice had come through, his chocked promise, "happy face!"

Beryl had opened the door to his flushed red, tear-stained, snot covered face, his lips pulled all the way back to show his teeth in a mock, feral looking smile.

She'd patted him on the head and went about her way as Thalia sat down beside him and hugged him. He'd snuffled and fallen asleep in her arms like that, his face relaxing back to normal.

She shook it off as quickly as it had come up, but watching Jason's lip now curl up, distorting that scar and his gruesome smile that seemed to be planning a prison break before his troubled eyes returned to the here and now of this long being done didn't help her press it as far down as before.

"Take heart, my son." He gazed up at the stars. "I—I will find a way."

A bar lowered across the doors with a fatal BOOM, and I woke in a cold sweat.

"Have I mentioned how much I dislike your dreams?" Magnus asked. "They're either terrifying, traumatizing, or some mixture of the two. Now whether you know that person or not!"

Percy wished that he could say he'd give them back if he could, but they'd also given him glimpses into his friends who were in danger to many times to say so.

He'd still like to trade away a few where he'd run around camp without his pants on his head.

I was still feeling shaky the next morning when Chiron called a war council.

"That's new," Jason said in surprise. "Last time you sat around a pingpong table," he still vividly remembered for how particularly strange that was in this odd camp. This arena like setting felt far more natural to him as he traced his tattoo.

We met in the sword arena, which I thought was pretty strange—

"Gods forbid there not be cheez whiz present," Thalia snorted.

trying to discuss the fate of the camp while Mrs. O'Leary chewed on a lifesize squeaky pink rubber yak.

"Aww," Alex cooed. "I don't know what you're talking about Percy, that's the perfect setting. You have in full view what you're fighting for."

"If the dog getting her chew toy is what motivates someone to save our camp, then so be it," Percy didn't look too impressed though.

Chiron and Quintus stood at the front by the weapon racks. Clarisse and Annabeth sat next to each other and led the briefing. Tyson and Grover sat as far away from each other as possible. Also present around the table:

Juniper the tree nymph, Silena Beauregard, Travis and Connor Stoll, Beckendorf, Lee Fletcher, even Argus, our hundred-eyed security chief.

"Last time he was mentioned he was feeding a dragon," Magnus reminded with only a hint of dread. "I guess I'm just glad Peleus doesn't follow him around and is there too."

"Then we'd all feel too safe to discuss a war council," Percy said as if he'd made an excellent point and ignored Magnus's grimace.

That's how I knew it was serious. Argus hardly ever shows up unless something really major is going on. The whole time Annabeth spoke, he kept his hundred blue eyes trained on her so hard his whole body turned bloodshot.

Alex examined his own arm intently for a few moments like he was trying to make that happen. When he turned back to Thalia reading with disappointment, the others were left with more questions about him than Argus.

"Luke must have known about the Labyrinth entrance," Annabeth said. "He knew everything about camp."

Thalia read that a bit strangely, like her tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth. Percy had the exact same puckered look on his face. Will sighed and kept to himself he was a bit glad Annabeth wasn't here, every bit of this would have hurt her in some way.

I thought I heard a little pride in her voice, like she still respected the guy, evil as he was.

"I think respect is the wrong word," Alex crinkled up his nose in disgust. "At least I'd hope she doesn't respect the guy trying to destroy her home."

Percy and Thalia exchanged a discouraged look.

Will defended, "she's not here to defend the use of Percy's choice of word, and we all have a little grudging respect for the gods with no telling how many people they've killed because of how we know them."

Alex raised an unimpressed brow at him, but didn't stop Thalia rushing to keep going.

Juniper cleared her throat. "That's what I was trying to tell you last night. The cave entrance has been there a long time. Luke used to use it."

"He's already been exploring that place for years?" Jason asked with full unease, the strategist in him balking at how the uneven odds could still be getting worse. "What was he doing sending Chris Rodriguez in there if he has an idea of how this thing works?"

"Nobody in here has jumped inside his mind to ask how the insane plans of Kronos were going," Nico scowled.

Jason looked surprised at the cold snap, he hadn't been demanding that of anyone in particular in here, but he nodded in acceptance they weren't going to get an insider's look into this.

Silena Beauregard frowned. "You knew about the Labyrinth entrance, and you didn't say anything?"

Will frowned with unease, wondering if Silena knew about it. Had Luke been keeping secrets from her? Moments like this made him wonder why she had gone along with it so long . . .

Juniper's face turned green. "I didn't know it was important. Just a cave. I don't like yucky old caves."

Magnus had to give her that, he had seen stranger things than someone dipping in and out of caves, and he didn't much like them either, always having preferred to be sleeping outdoors even in the worst of weather.

"She has good taste," Grover said.

"So what's her excuse about him?" Thalia smirked.

Percy gave her a light punch and an eye roll for mocking his best friend who wasn't here.

"I wouldn't have paid any attention except...well, it was Luke." She blushed a little greener.

Percy put his fist back against Thalia's arm, made a weirdly good rewind sound, and then pulled his fist back away and even rolled his eyes the other way while the others got a mild chuckle out of him.

Grover huffed. "Forget what I said about good taste."

Percy brushed some imaginary sweat aside. "Good thing, I was worried about his taste for a second there!" His joke didn't entirely hide his clear agitation that every girl in camp seemed to have had a crush on this guy, even Silena, the prettiest girl there, had gotten a strange look on her face at the mention of him!

"Interesting," Quintus polished his sword as he spoke. "And you believe this young man, Luke, would dare use the Labyrinth as an invasion route?"

"Definitely," Clarisse said. "If he could get an army of monsters inside Camp Half-Blood, just pop up in the middle of the woods without having to worry about our magical boundaries, we wouldn't stand a chance. He could wipe us out easy. He must've been planning this for months."

"He's been sending scouts into the maze," Annabeth said. "We know because...because we found one."

"Chris Rodriguez," Chiron said. He gave Quintus a meaningful look.

"Ah," Quintus said. "The one in the...Yes, I understand."

"The one in the what?" I asked.

Clarisse glared at me.

"I guess she's gotten a bit attached to him after spending time nursing him back to health," Magnus winced.

You have no idea, Will kept to him self, but couldn't entirely erase the smile.

"The point is, Luke has been looking for a way to navigate the maze. He's searching for Daedalus's workshop."

I remembered my dream the night before—the bloody old man in tattered robes. "The guy who created the maze."

"Yes," Annabeth said. "The greatest architect, the greatest inventor of all time.

Will tried his hardest to stifle his laugh at that though, as he wondered how hard Daedalus had to fight not to blush while Annabeth had been praising his guts.

If the legends are true, his workshop is in the center of the Labyrinth. He's the only one who knew how to navigate the maze perfectly. If Luke managed to find the workshop and convince Daedalus to help him, Luke wouldn't have to fumble around searching for paths, or risk losing his army in the maze's traps. He could navigate anywhere he wanted—quickly and safely. First to Camp Half-Blood to wipe us out. Then...to Olympus."

"Now for the good news!" Alex reminded at that ominous silence. "Everybody's always complaining nobody shares enough of that!"

There was the same silence here as was in the arena.

"No? None?" Alex looked around in mock disappointment.

"Well I guess that's why nobody ever starts with it," Magnus muttered.

The arena was silent except for Mrs. O'Leary's toy yak getting disemboweled: SQUEAK! SQUEAK!

"The perfect noise to get used to hearing, we'd all be their squeaky toys when this is done," Percy sighed.

Finally Beckendorf put his huge hands on the table. "Back up a sec, Annabeth, you said 'convince Daedalus'? Isn't Daedalus dead?"

"I don't assume anybody's dead in this," Jason raised his hand.

"And that's why we're always telling you you're the smart one around here," Percy shivered with unease for whatever his mind was holding over him. At this rate, his best hope was an explicit nightmare about said death.

Quintus grunted. "I would hope so. He lived, what, three thousand years ago? And even if he were alive, don't the old stories say he fled from the Labyrinth?"

"What stories?" Magnus asked as blankly as usual, it was a wonder they didn't have a stop watch on him. "Who is telling stories about this guy still and his wear abouts?"

"The same crazy rumors about where my dad likes to vacation and which celebrity Aphrodite is dating," Percy shrugged. Even if they were rumors he didn't regularly hear, he was sure they were there at camp.

Chiron clopped restlessly on his hooves. "That's the problem, my dear Quintus. No one knows. There are rumors...well, there are many disturbing rumors about Daedalus, but one is that he disappeared back into the Labyrinth toward the end of his life. He might still be there."

I thought about the old man I'd seen in my dreams. He'd looked so frail, it was hard to believe he'd lasted another week, much less three thousand years.

Alex liked that Magnus never grew tired of his questions, she had a tendency to take this all in stride a little to much to pick up on some of this like he tried to verbalize when he asked, "are the people in those stories like the monsters and gods? Are they immortal because they're tied up in all these myths? Is the Greek who invented the chariot still alive?"

"In general no," Nico shook his head, it really was his own fault he worried the others only associated him with death when he was always so willing to answer these particular questions. Because he was comfortable with knowing these answers. "As a rule, no mortal soul is immune from death unless granted eternal life by the gods, like the legend Hercules, he's actually running around somewhere I think. I don't have a roster of who has escaped death, but my dad does, and Daedalus, I'm pretty sure, is on that list from doing, whatever he did with that labyrinth."

"Okay," Magnus felt just a might better for once, that something of normal logic still applied and people were supposed to stay dead no matter how many stories were told about them.

"We need to go in," Annabeth announced.

"I like her use of the word we," Percy grinned a sort of knowing smile that wasn't funny. "Because the whole stadium is going to be a part of this."

"At least she's not trying to leave anybody out," Thalia snorted.

"We have to find the workshop before Luke does. If Daedalus is alive, we convince him to help us, not Luke. If Ariadne's string still exists, we make sure it never falls into Luke's hands."

"Wait a second," I said. "If we're worried about an attack, why not just blow up the entrance? Seal the tunnel?"

"Great idea!" Grover said. "I'll get the dynamite!"

"I am worried where he would get dynamite from," Jason said at once.

"I'm worried how easily he gets addicted to things," Percy muttered.

"It's not so easy, stupid," Clarisse growled. "We tried that at the entrance we found in Phoenix. It didn't go well."

"Freaking, stupid, magic," Magnus's audible grumbling about how nothing was ever easy really was felt by them all.

Annabeth nodded. "The Labyrinth is magical architecture, Percy. It would take huge power to seal even one of its entrances.

"Like, godly power?" Jason asked. "Could you not get one of them down there to do that?"

"Have the gods yet done something like that for us?" Percy reminded with a fowl scowl.

It was uncomfortably true, no god had yet lifted a finger to protect the camp when they were on the verge of collapse back when Thalia's tree was poisoned. Apollo and Athena had assisted on the last quest to rescue Artemis, but it had clearly been done in secret.

"Zeus is acting in the war effort now though," Jason tried to insist even if there was no hope in his voice. "This is actually more helpful than whatever he's got Bacchus off doing." It felt so strange in his very core, to still be questioning what the gods were and weren't doing, but he wasn't going to stop. In a strange way, it felt good to vocalize all this too.

"I don't even think it would be possible with Hecate supporting Kronos anyways," Nico offered. The idea of magical architecture made him pretty confident she was doing her part to help Luke.

"The gods don't interfere," Will reminded. It sounded like a very old, very recited line. There was no other answer.

In Phoenix, Clarisse demolished a whole building with a wrecking ball, and the maze entrance just shifted a few feet.

Alex made a sound like a buzzer while Magnus spluttered over the array of words in that sentence.

"Clarisse stole a wrecking ball?" Thalia repeated for good measure, clearly enjoying the taste of those words a little to much.

"Either that or her mom works construction," Jason blinked owlishly at the book.

"My question is, was the building inhabited?" Percy laughed nervously like he was imagining Clarisse chasing him with a wrecking ball now. "So much what just goes into that one." 

The best we can do is prevent Luke from learning to navigate the Labyrinth."

"Oh, so you're doomed," Alex frowned.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence man," Percy frowned right back.

"I mean, sorry I'm not sorry?" Alex half-heartedly offered. "According to all of this though, he's been twelve steps ahead of you this entire time though. I have, zero clue, how you survived this one."

Percy shivered as the worst outcome came to mind. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd died at that camp and this was some twisted way of his dad trying to keep his soul alive or some crazy godly idea of fatherly affection.

"Well lucky for you we had Annabeth on the case," Thalia promptly reminded, only resisting hitting Percy upside the head with the book for that dower look on his face because she wouldn't kick him while he was down.

"We could fight," Lee Fletcher said. "We know where the entrance is now. We can set up a defensive line and wait for them. If an army tries to come through, they'll find us waiting with our bows."

"The fact that that didn't come from Clarisse is weirder than anything," Jason grinned.

"Lee, is, always up for a challenge," Will caught himself at the last moment from using past tense. It came out shoddy like he was trying to speak with the hiccups. "There's a reason he and Clarisse won," he finished only a tad better.

"We will certainly set up defenses," Chiron agreed. "But I fear Clarisse is right. The magical borders have kept this camp safe for hundreds of years. If Luke manages to get a large army of monsters into the center of camp, bypassing our boundaries...we may not have the strength to defeat them."

"Someone needs to put on Dean Martin for this guy so he can take a chill pill," Magnus frowned at that dower point of view from the trainer of all heroes.

"Just being realistic," Alex shook his head in agreement with Chiron though. Better to be honest about their chances than give them all false hope.

Nobody looked real happy about that news. Chiron usually tried to be upbeat and optimistic. If he was predicting we couldn't hold off an attack, that wasn't good.

"I wouldn't really say his level of chill makes it better," Nico snorted. "Hey, the world's ending again, good luck with that while I go teach archery."

"Chiron gives really good advice before the quests though," Percy looked a little miffed at himself he couldn't come up with a better argument than that.

"We have to get to Daedalus's workshop first," Annabeth insisted. "Find Ariadne's string and prevent Luke from using it."

"What's Ariadne's string made out of?" Alex asked. "Her hair? Her clothes? Did she weave it from a magic item?"

"If you're thinking about somehow trying to replicate it, I wouldn't hope for that outcome being any more helpful," Thalia shook her head without spoiling it was in fact an actual useless myth.

"And as usual, it depends on the myth you read," Percy shrugged. "I think I've heard versions where it's gold, and one where Theseus just tied it to the start of the maze? None of it makes much sense outside of a story."

"But if nobody can navigate in there," I said, "what chance do we have?"

"Please don't threaten me with Dean Martin too," Percy frowned at Magnus.

"Then lighten up!" He rolled his eyes, "or I'll have Thalia shock you again."

"I can and will do it on command," she agreed, letting blue electricity arc between the tips of her fingers to prove her point.

"We can totally do this guys, I'll make non-centaur-blood t-shirts," he nodded quickly.

"I've been studying architecture for years," she said. "I know Daedalus's Labyrinth better than anybody."

"From reading about it."

"Well, yes."

"That's not enough."

"It has to be!"

"It isn't!"

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Percy looked stunned she'd even had to ask. Then he felt the silence in here and looked around and saw Thalia had stopped reading to watch him in amusement along with everybody else.

I realized everyone was watching Annabeth and me like a tennis match.

"You guys are better than a tennis match," Alex assured him in amusement. "I couldn't pay for commentary like this."

"Just what I always wanted," he rolled his eyes.

Mrs. O'Leary's squeaky yak went EEK! As she ripped off its pink rubber head.

"That dog alone will keep pet companies in business for all her lively needs," Will snorted.

Chiron cleared his throat. "First things first. We need a quest. Someone must enter the Labyrinth, find the workshop of Daedalus, and prevent Luke from using the maze to invade this camp."

"We all know who should lead this," Clarisse said. "Annabeth."

"It's great to hear of Clarisse sharing," Will shook his head in exhaustion, "of course she'd finally get the concept with the deadly quest."

"I want to know what's changed from the last time she was proud to do this," Alex looked a little pouty. "Was it the wrecking ball? I think she needs to come down here and share her personal growth over that winter."

"Pretty sure the answer's a little more simple than that," Percy muttered. She'd spent the whole time in there without a single posture or gloat or threat. She'd been sitting in the front of the bleachers by Annabeth, but had seemed withdrawn as she handled this. Whatever she'd gone through in that Labyrinth had changed her.

There was a murmur of agreement. I knew Annabeth had been waiting for her own quest since she was a little kid, but she looked uncomfortable.

Magnus frowned and leaned forward anxiously in his seat. It bothered him that even if he'd had an inkling of what his cousin had been going through right then, he wouldn't have been any help at all. Now here she was, finally getting a full, sanctioned quest of the utmost importance, and she seemed no more confident she'd survive it than he was.

"You've done as much as I have, Clarisse," she said. "You should go, too."

"Too," Alex noticed with interest. "I imagine this quest will go quite smoothly if the three of you manage to work together."

"But Grover has to go," Jason looked actually torn whom he was rooting for. "His Pan quest can't lead him anywhere else."

"Screw the council, Percy will help Grover find Pan down there after they save the camp," Alex insisted.

"What does the Camp do when more than three people are supposed to go?" Magnus asked a little wearily. Hopefully, the solution wouldn't be Percy's answer, and they'd just get a sanctioned tag along.

"Tournament to the death," Nico said with a completely straight face.

Will rolled his eyes affectionately and answered, "a vote. The leader of the quest gets the final say, but if they're impartial, then the vote."

"I think you're all missing an important detail," Percy interrupted. They hadn't seen the look on Clarisse's face when that had been suggested.

Clarisse shook her head. "I'm not going back in there."

"Oh," Jason muttered, "yeah, didn't quite see that coming."

"I never thought of Clarisse in retirement mode," Alex admitted.

Travis Stoll laughed. "Don't tell me you're scared. Clarisse, chicken?"

"Daring her is not going to get good results," Magnus said at once. "Connor might be down a brother rather than up a quest member."

"I think he just considers it his daily duty," Will shrugged.

"To die?" Magnus demanded.

"Clarisse has never killed any fellow camper," Will said that with about as much confidence as he had of the Stolls though.

Clarisse got to her feet, I thought she was going to pulverize Travis, but she said in a shaky voice: "You don't understand anything, punk. I'm never going in there again. Never!"

She stormed out of the arena.

It would have made more sense if Percy had told them she'd been wearing frog footsie pajamas during this meeting than that. "And I'm volunteering for this?" He reminded them in a very dread-like voice. He might rather eat a frog.

"Anything to be the hero," Nico muttered, and he wasn't even being sarcastic.

Travis looked around sheepishly. "I didn't mean to—"

Chiron raised his hand. "The poor girl has had a difficult year. Now, do we have agreement that Annabeth should lead the quest?"

We all nodded except Quintus. He folded his arms and stared at the table, but I wasn't sure anyone else noticed.

"Annabeth has got to stop drawing every eye in the room to her," Alex said with a snap of his fingers.

Magnus gave him a concerned look because he agreed, but probably not in the way Alex meant it.

"Very well," Chiron turned to Annabeth. "My dear, it's your time to visit the Oracle. Assuming you return to us in one piece, we shall discuss what to do next."

"I really do wonder more every day how you guys survive any length of time," Nico said none to quietly. Chiron was a nice enough centaur, but really gave him no faith in any kind of authority figure.

"A plucky attitude," Will answered in a completely serious tone of voice, which caused Nico to chuckle anyways.

Waiting for Annabeth was harder than visiting the Oracle myself.

"And that's saying something," Percy wagged his finger for emphasis.

"You didn't have to tell us that, I promise we know," Thalia assured as she shoved his finger out of her face.

I'd heard it speak prophecies twice before. The first time had been in the dusty attic of the Big House, where the spirit of Delphi slept inside the body of a mummified hippie lady. The second time, the Oracle had come out for a little stroll in the woods. I still had nightmares about that.

"So would I," Magnus easily promised. A therapist could have a field day with his greatest fear of wolves somehow being tied into his very real fear of being eaten alive coupled into how society made it impossible for him to ever think he could make it out of his beanbag in the park.

I'd never felt threatened by the Oracle's presence, but I'd heard stories: campers who'd gone insane, or who'd seen visions so real they died of fear.

"I like to think some of those are exaggerated," but Will had no confidence in his voice. Nobody he knew had gone on a quest before Percy showed up, so it wasn't that common a thing...and honestly, he believed those stories too.

I paced the arena, waiting. Mrs. O'Leary ate her lunch, which consisted of a hundred pounds of ground beef and several dog biscuits the size of trashcan lids. I wondered where Quintus got dog biscuits that size. I didn't figure you could just walk into Pet Zone and put those in your shopping cart.

"Homemade meals," Alex nodded without surprise. "Probably baked with love."

"I bet he posts the recipe online with his entire backstory too," Magnus rolled his eyes.

Chiron was deep in conversation with Quintus and Argus. It looked to me like they were disagreeing about something. Quintus kept shaking his head.

"Please let it be the next war game having something to do with a bake-off," Magnus crossed his fingers.

"Magnus, what practicality would that have?" Jason asked in exasperation. "At least make it some kind of survival guide where they have to forage and eat."

"Fine," he muttered at the compromise, and both knew it was a lost joke anyways.

On the other side of the arena, Tyson and the Stoll brothers were racing miniature bronze chariots that Tyson had made out of armor scraps.

"He's going to put toy companies out of business as a sidequest," Alex said with confidence.

"-and they were so cool, they shot real arrows at the driver if they tried to turn the chariot to hard and one was giving off this awful smell-"

Magnus looked from Alex to Percy explaining this in vivid detail several times before deciding against commenting.

I gave up on pacing and left the arena. I stared across the fields at the Big House's attic window, dark and still. What was taking Annabeth so long? I was pretty sure it hadn't taken me this long to get my quest.

"You spent half the time dreading every step up there and looking for the bathroom," Thalia smirked.

"I'm just hoping she doesn't pitch herself out the window to get away when it's done," Jason muttered.

"Who do you think she sees giving her the prophecy?" Alex asked with a deep hunger to know every aspect of this Oracle.

"My money would be on Athena," but Percy wasn't so sure of that either. It really was just a guess, Percy had no idea what kind of crazy symbolicness went into what you saw in those things.

"Percy," a girl whispered.

Juniper was standing in the bushes. It was weird how she almost turned invisible when she was surrounded by plants.

"Camouflage man, best color there is," Alex snorted as he swooshed his green hair.

"I think that makes you the natural enemy of it," Percy told him.

She gestured me over urgently. "You need to know: Luke wasn't the only one I saw around that cave."

"She doesn't mean me and Annabeth does she?" Percy asked. Nico winced and hoped the same thing.

"The spy?" Jason yelped.

"What do you mean?"

She glanced back at the arena. "I was trying to say something, but he was right there."

"Who?"

"The sword master," she said. "He was poking around the rocks."

"Should have known there was something fishy about that guy when he didn't ask for a paycheck for being there." Alex was disappointed if he was a traitor though, he seemed like a cool guy.

"He hasn't been there long enough to be Luke's established spy," Jason shook his head, "and why would Luke send another there?"

"For a higher level position to be on Chiron's good side," Magnus offered with a queasy stomach.

Percy really didn't like it when they sat around trying to figure out this traitor business, he just couldn't imagine anyone in camp that way. Will didn't much either because Silena had been a friend to many, so he cleared his throat obviously and Thalia gratefully kept going.

My stomach clenched. "Quintus? When?"

"I don't know: I don't pay attention to time. Maybe a week ago, when he first showed up."

"So, you know, not suspicious at all," Alex managed in a fascinating mocking tone. He was mocking himself. "He was just out exploring and oh so happened upon that iconic landmark."

"Right, yeah, totally a coincidence," Magnus wanted to believe it was true anyways.

"What was he doing? Did he go in?"

"I—I'm not sure. He's creepy, Percy. I didn't even see him come into the glade. Suddenly he was just there. You have to tell Grover it's too dangerous—"

"Juniper?" Grover called from inside the arena. "Where'd you go?"

Juniper sighed. "I'd better go in. Just remember what I said. Don't trust that man!"

"Are we sure she's not just insecure Grover's going to get a crush on him next?" Jason's smile was flickering like he really was trying to laugh it off too. "I bet Quinteus would make a delightful blueberry bush." His tone ended a little to harsh to be funny by the end, he wasn't going to let his suspicions be swayed.

"We'll pin that in the maybe category," Thalia patted his shoulder.

She ran into the arena.

I stared at the Big House, feeling more uneasy than ever. If Quintus was up to something...I needed Annabeth's advice.

"Do you cross camp without talking to that girl?" Will burst out laughing. At least laughing about Percy's crush on Annabeth was always a safe bet.

Percy mock considered for a moment before saying, "one time I did, and then I ended up being chased by an owl. Lesson learned."

She might know what to make of Juniper's news. But where the heck was she? Whatever was happening with the Oracle, it shouldn't be taking this long.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore.

It was against the rules, but then again, nobody was watching. I ran down the hill and headed across the fields.

"Are you sure you got that chapter title right," Nico snorted. "Percy's the one over here breaking the rules, as usual."

"Ah, but you said it," Thalia reminded with an impish smirk. "Percy breaking the rules is not noteworthy enough for any of us to do more than laugh at. Annabeth on the other hand," she finished with an ominous shake of her head that made Percy's stomach do an unpleasant swoop. What rule had she broken exactly? Why did the consequences feel like a really bad idea all of a sudden?

The front parlor of the Big House was strangely quiet. I was used to seeing Dionysus by the fireplace, playing cards and eating grapes and griping at satyrs, but Mr. D was still away.

Percy was restless now, squirming in agitation in his seat and unable to sit still. Of course a wish he'd never even thought was possible had been granted and that cranky, miserable old god was gone, and it made the whole place feel empty like a tomb.

I walked down the hallway, floorboards creaking under my feat. When I got to the base of the stairs, I hesitated. Four floors above would be a little trapdoor leading to the attic. Annabeth would be up there somewhere.

"I'm imagining you interrupting her prophecy and her stabbing you," Magnus admitted.

"A fair reaction, but I still had to know," Percy put an arm across his chest for the most vital of organs he'd shield and figured ambrosia and nectar would heal anything else so he could go on the quest in a timely manner.

I stood quietly and listened. But what I heard wasn't what I had expected.

Sobbing.

The jolt around the room came from Thalia's sharp surprise saying that rather than her powers. Percy's feet twitched, he wanted to run to her without a second thought, but he more than anyone knew that hadn't been Annabeth. It hadn't been coming from above him.

And it was coming from below me.

"Why is there always a creepy basement," Magnus whispered. Uncle Randolph probably had one in that creepy mansion of his too.

"Because crying on the porch is a cliché?" But Alex looked just as concerned what the heck was going on in that house. Dionysus hadn't left a satyr down there to be tortured had he?

I crept around the back of the stairs. The basement door was open. I didn't even know the Big House had a basement.

"I bet Luke does," Percy muttered with an upturned nose, like Annabeth was here to mock for that earlier comment.

"Everybody knows where that basement is Percy," Thalia snorted, "it's where we hide the supplies for all of your parties."

"Thanks for clearing that up," he rolled his eyes.

I peered inside and saw two figures in the far corner, sitting amid a bunch of stockpiled cases of ambrosia and strawberry preserves.

Will wrung his hands, still feeling useless these years later nobody had been of any help to Chris. He and Chiron hadn't even been able to get through a whole conversation of what else they could try before they had to stop. They'd tried everything. If Mr. D hadn't come back, Clarisse might have followed him right to the mortal world and whatever facility they might have tried.

One was Clarisse.

Obviously she couldn't escape to the arena, that's where they'd been. Jason had thought she'd go off to her cabin or somewhere in Camp she considered private.

Nobody had expected, this.

The other was a teenage Hispanic guy in tattered camouflage pants and a dirty black T-shirt.

His hair was greasy and matted. He was hugging his shoulders and sobbing.

It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who'd gone to work for Luke.

"If she's there to smother him, are we supposed to stop her?" Alex stage whispered.

"If she was going to kill him, she'd have done it when she found him," Magnus looked very troubled what was going on though. He didn't see how anybody could get any more information out of Chris.

"It's okay," Clarisse was telling him. "Try a little more nectar."

"You're an illusion, Mary!" Chris backed farther into the corner. "G-get away."

"My name's not Mary." Clarisse's voice was gentle but really sad. I never knew Clarisse could sound that way.

"Oh," Percy whispered, then he slapped his hand to his mouth like he'd been caught and leaned far back into his seat.

No, like Clarisse had been caught. He felt so bad for her, sharing even a hint of this with people who didn't even know her except what little he'd said. He'd never been embarrassed, much, about sharing his own past, but moments like this made him wish someone had let him edit out these parts first!

"My name is Clarisse. Remember. Please."

"It's dark!" Chris yelled. "So dark!"

"Come outside," Clarisse coaxed. "The sunlight will help you."

"A...a thousand skulls. The earth keeps healing him."

Percy shivered as a feeling he tried hard not to let run rampant in here began to bubble up. Anger, adrenaline, a memory he did not yet have a connection to, but he knew he wouldn't enjoy getting back. Poseidon, his dad's name whispered in his mind, but it was of no comfort.

"Chris," Clarisse pleaded. It sounded like she was close to tears. "You have to get better. Please. Mr. D will be back soon. He's an expert in madness. Just hang on."

Magnus shook his head like he had flies coming out of his ears. Oh how he'd heard that before, a promise for a cure down every pair of handcuffs while he was just as guilty melting into the crowd. He didn't have any faith Dionysus would do any more good. If he could have been out there helping, why wasn't he?

Chris's eyes were like a cornered rat's—wild and desperate. "There's no way out, Mary. No way out."

Nico couldn't help but wonder who Mary really was. A form Minos had taken to trick Chris's every step? A spirit begging for his help? Perhaps someone from his past his mind conjured up in comfort? He'd seen all three down there, anything was possible.

Then he caught a glimpse of me and made a strangled, terrified sound. "The son of Poseidon! He's horrible!"

Not one of them cracked a smile at the easy mockery. Percy was starting to look a little gray that the guy off his rocker was making more sense than the tree spirit while his headache bounced around in his skill like a rubber ball.

I backed away, hoping Clarisse hadn't seen me. I listened for her to come charging out and yell at me, but instead she just kept talking to Chris in a sad pleading voice, trying to get him to drink the nectar. Maybe she thought it was part of Chris's hallucination, but...son of Poseidon? Chris had been looking at me, and yet why did I get the feeling he hadn't been talking about me at all?

Thalia resisted the urge to wrap Percy in a blanket as hard as he shivered. Annabeth had a hard time describing Antaeus's chamber to her, that gladius style arena fighting for sport where Percy was forced to show off his creative problem solving without her and fight a half-blood, all Annabeth's worst fears bundled up into one.

And Clarisse's tenderness—it had never even occurred to me that she might like someone; but the way she said Chris's name...

"Well I guess those jokes about Annabeth and Clarisse are never going to happen," Alex muttered with all the sympathy in the world for her it worked out. He had a wee bit of an addictive personality and now desperately wanted a backstory book on everything Clarisse had been through up to this point too, so that he could find some hint of knowing it would all work out.

She'd known him before he changed sides. She'd known him a lot better than I realized. And now he was shivering in a dark basement, afraid to come out, and mumbling about someone named Mary. No wonder Clarisse didn't want anything to do with the Labyrinth. What had happened to Chris in there?

"Some stories are better left unanswered," Jason sighed. He didn't even know about his past, and yet the glimpses he'd gotten left him questioning everything about himself. If somebody told him the alternative of knowing everything was being left in a vegetative state, the answer wouldn't make him any happier.

I heard a creak from above—like the attic door opening—and I ran for the front door. I needed to get out of that house.

"You run fleeing from that house more than you ever have a monster," Nico noted in amazement.

"Blah blah metaphor from running away from his real fear of Annabeth returning his love?" Jason chuckled.

Percy waved his hand along exaggeratedly at the laughter that rolled along so they could all get their good mood in now that the trauma was temporarily over.

"My dear," Chiron said. "You made it."

Annabeth looked at me first.

"Those who are surprised, please raise your hand," Thalia snorted.

Percy raised his hand, and Thalia smacked him.

I couldn't tell if she was trying to warn me, or if the look in her eyes was just plain fear. Then she focused on Quintus. "I got the prophecy. I will lead the quest to find Daedalus's workshop."

"And she's telling him specifically this, because?" Will asked, clearly a little wrong-footed why she seemed to be ignoring Chiron.

"Gods, there couldn't have been a line in there about him, right?" Percy asked anxiously.

"Even if there was, it still might not mean whatever she's worried it means," Thalia said with complete confidence. It was a classic at this point for everybody to worry what a prophecy meant until it happened.

She and Nico winced at her own comment though, because Zoe and Bianca certainly hadn't been saved by some double meaning.

Nobody cheered. I mean, we all liked Annabeth, and we wanted her to have a quest, but this one seemed insanely dangerous.

"As opposed to the other quests where the fate of the world and your camp weren't on the line," Magnus actually seemed the most confident and upbeat. "You guys got approval to do this and everything and you have a starting point of where you're going and what you're looking for!"

"Now we just have to figure out those pesky details," Percy tried to agree in the same way, but just because he'd survived didn't make him confident everybody else had come out of this unscathed.

After what I'd seen of Chris Rodriguez, I didn't even want to think about Annabeth descending into that weird maze again.

It was no surprise to anybody Percy wanted to protect her, and down underground, seemingly the opposite of where he'd find any body of water...watching Percy get nervous and twitchy was nothing new.

They were a strong trio, Percy told himself, and they'd already done the impossible once! Bad Percy, bad! A strong inner voice hissed. Stop jinxing yourself!

Chiron scraped a hoof on the dirt floor. "What did the prophecy say exactly, my dear? The wording is important."

"Important doesn't mean clear," Thalia huffed.

Annabeth took a deep breath. "I, ah...well, it said, you shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze..."

"I always love it when the Prophecy confirms you're going to do exactly what you're asking it advice to do," Alex rolled his eyes.

"I'll take an unnecessary, solid line over another confusing one," Magnus shook his head.

We waited.

"The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise."

"Raze like destroy or raise like nurture?" Alex asked. "Because now I'm picturing Nico bottle-feeding baby ghosts."

"More like raise, lifted up out of something," was all Thalia could promise with twitching lips while Nico looked a little sad at the idea of asking his dad what happened to dead baby souls.

"The traitor?" Jason latched on with laser focus. "Are we finally going to get confirmation of who Luke has at camp?"

"Who gets lost?" Percy picked nervously at his lip. He hoped it was Pan and Grover's wish, but he had a bad feeling that might relate to himself somehow. He was currently 'lost' after all.

Grover perked up. "The lost one! That must mean Pan! That's great!"

"With the dead and the traitor," I added. "Not so great."

"My concern is it's all the same person, and man does that sound like a story," Magnus said with a raised brow.

Nico twitched unpleasantly how all three of those did relate to him in some way.

"And?" Chiron asked. "What is the rest?"

"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," Annabeth said,

"So Annabeth needs to learn how to make friends fast?" Will said with twitching lips. "Oh, we were doomed."

"Hey," but Percy was chuckling along all the same.

"I would pay to be friends with a ghost king!" Alex raised his hand. "Please tell me she can introduce us whether it worked out or not!"

Nico looked at him like he was nuts...but Alex really had been as good a friend to him as Will, especially after yesterday. He opened his mouth right now to tell him no payment was necessary, before he remembered why Percy was shaking his head not in answer and quickly shut his mouth. Hopefully Alex wouldn't change his mind when he realized the ghost summoning thing wasn't just a cool random trick but something he actively still had to keep control over.

"the child of Athena's final stand."

Magnus and Percy winced in unison at how not stellar of a line that was!

Even if the automatic fallback was to convince themselves that could be some other random child of Athena just sporadically showing up on this quest...that still sounded like a pretty bad death of somebody Annabeth might know and care about?!

Thalia easily swooped in with the comment, "are we finally going to get to hear the smart goddess's ideas go down? We all know her real favorite children are her personal theories."

"Isn't one of those her dislike of me?" Percy played along with a smile. "I can get behind that."

Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn't sound good.

"But the final showdown is always an awesome climactic part of the story," Alex pouted.

"Not when my cousin could nearly die," Magnus huffed.

"Percy didn't even get salty over that line really, I'm positive she's safe," Alex assured he wasn't dismissing anything.

"Hey...we shouldn't jump to conclusions," Silena said.

"The only real demonstration of how often people do jump," Percy grinned.

"Something you should be careful about," Thalia agreed in mock concern. "We still don't know how much air you have to get before you tick Zeus off."

"Note to self, don't join the cheerleading squad and be the flier," Percy rolled his eyes.

"Annabeth isn't the only child of Athena, right?"

Jason still didn't think she'd be thrilled if it was one of her siblings who might take her place, that line really was something to not look forward to.

"But who's this ghost king?" Beckendorf asked.

No one answered. I thought about the Iris-message I'd seen of Nico summoning spirits. I had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that.

"Muah?" Nico always looked so surprised Percy even remembered he existed. Of course he would when the creepy bad stuff was all he had to go on.

"Well I didn't think it had anything to do with Mrs. O'Leary," Percy shrugged.

"Are there more lines?" Chiron asked. "The prophecy does not sound complete."

Annabeth hesitated. "I don't remember exactly."

"Liar, liar!" Alex mock started up a cigarette lighter in his hand as if to set Annabeth's pants on fire. He probably really would have if he'd thought it would work underwater.

"I think she's pulling a me," Percy reminded of his first quest, he hadn't exactly been forthcoming with that line about failing to save his mom.

Chiron raised an eyebrow. Annabeth was known for her memory. She never forgot something she heard.

"That sounds exhausting," Thalia looked disturbed she'd even said that even if she knew it to be true.

"I'm over here hoping it's just Percy hyping up his girlfriend more than usual," Magnus said even if he knew it wasn't much of an exaggeration.

"She's not my-" but Percy stopped with a face of brightest red because he still had no idea what Annabeth was to him.

Annabeth shifted on her bench. "Something about...Destroy with a hero's final breath."

"And?" Chiron asked.

She stood. "Look, the point is, I have to go in.

"That sounded cool though!" Alex groaned. "Caterwauling turned into a power! Will, can you do that!"

"Um, no," he looked a little terrified if Alex was going to come over and start prodding him to find out.

"Uff," Alex huffed anyways like he wanted to try.

I'll find the workshop and stop Luke. And...I need help." She turned to me. "Will you come?"

I didn't even hesitate. "I'm in."

"I can't believe she even asked," Jason admitted, "I'm a little concerned about her leadership quality if she's already second guessing the obvious."

"You never know, I might have wanted a nap first and she left me," but Percy couldn't even get through that with a straight face.

She smiled for the first time in days, and that made it all worthwhile.

"Naww," Will cooed like Percy had just told his mother he was meeting Annabeth at the movies and he fought off the very tempting solution of drowning him down here.

"Grover, you too? The wild god is waiting."

Grover seemed to forget how much he hated the underground.

"It's so wholesome how often I can use this book for motivational quotes," Will grinned.

"Right in between the threats to Percy's life, him smarting off to gods, and the monster attacks," Magnus glibly reminded. Will waved off those minor details.

The line about the "lost one" had completely energized him. "I'll pack extra recyclables for snacks!"

"He reminds me of a honeybee, it's like there's no downside to having him around," Jason chuckled.

"I bet the satyrs would love a union from Mr. D.," Percy grinned.

"And Tyson," Annabeth said. "I'll need you too."

"Wait," Magnus frowned, even counting the members again silently on his hand to make sure.

"Hey, I wasn't last pick!" Percy grinned.

"Let alone no pick," Thalia rolled her eyes. "Annabeth isn't crazy enough to think you wouldn't come along anyways, might as well get you over with first."

Her sarcasm didn't dampen his grin by one bit.

"Yay! Blow-things-up time!" Tyson clapped so hard he woke up Mrs. O'Leary, who was dozing in the corner.

"Wait, Annabeth," Chiron said. "This goes against the ancient laws.

"I really want a lawyer to explain these stinking laws to me eventually," Magnus frowned.

"Not a great idea, where Zeus is the judge and I imagine the mix of Latin and Greek would take to long, everybody would just be dead by the end," Nico shook his head.

"I'd be willing to take a crack if anyone would show me a book first," Jason huffed.

"Shush you, nobody needs a showoff," Percy snorted.

A hero is allowed only two companions."

"I bet that one was just invented because of ration supplies or something," Alex scoffed. "Chiron just doesn't want her to cheat and take the whole camp along."

"Ooh, Annabeth is breaking the rules, I get it now," Percy grinned. She was even doing it over him again, making sure he, his brother, and his best friend went!

"Hopefully the consequences of breaking ancient laws isn't cops and jail in this world too," Magnus muttered. Nothing had freaked him out more when he first started learning the ways of the streets than just how trigger-happy people would be with those 911 buttons when they figured out him for what he now was.

"I need them all," she insisted. "Chiron, it's important."

I didn't know why she was so certain,

"I learned already not to question Annabeth about that when she could build actual cities with Legos as toddlers," Magnus snorted at Percy.

"Oh trust me, wasn't questioning it," Percy said.

Nico wondered if he was the only one around here who found the constant praising of Annabeth Chase increasingly annoying.

but I was happy she'd included Tyson. I couldn't imagine leaving him behind. He was huge and strong and great at figuring out mechanical things. Unlike satyrs, Cyclopes had no problem underground.

"Annabeth." Chiron flicked his tail nervously.

"I can't explain why I really love it when he does that," Alex propped his arm on his knee to put his head in his hand as dramatically as possible.

"You would be intrigued with someone twice as deadly as a horse or a human," Magnus frowned.

"Consider well. You would be breaking the ancient laws, and there are always consequences. Last winter, five went on a quest to save Artemis. Only three came back.

None of them had needed that reminder as their hearts sank as fast as Percy's temper did. Annabeth hadn't gotten to know Zoe or Bianca, it was possible that wouldn't have exactly crossed her mind.

Think on that. Three is a sacred number. There are three fates, three furies, three Olympian sons of Kronos. It is a good strong number that stands against many dangers.

Jason hadn't made that joke in a while, but he looked particularly troubled at Annabeth defying ancient laws no matter how many jokes were passed around.

Four...this is risky."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "I know. But we have to. Please."

I could tell Chiron didn't like it. Quintus was studying us, like he was trying to decide which of us would come back alive.

"I swear there's not a single optimist in there except Tyson," Magnus frowned.

"I wouldn't say there's one down here at all, are you volunteering to lose an eyeball for the title?" Alex grinned.

"Um, pass," he promised.

"Will count's as an optimist," Nico offered, causing him to blush.

The two obviously considered for a moment before nodding in agreement, making Will blush all the more and cover his face for a moment.

Chiron sighed. "Very well. Let us adjourn. The members of the quest must prepare themselves. Tomorrow at dawn, we send you into the Labyrinth."

"I do not like the wording of that," Magnus frowned. "Like they're going to shove you in headfirst with spears at your butts."

"We haven't done live sacrifices in weeks," Will insisted. "If anything, it just attracts the monsters."

Nobody else seemed to think that was funny except Nico's chuckle, but Will didn't seem to mind.

"Nobody was going to ask you to not be the optimist Will, chill with the dire jokes," Percy sighed.

Quintus pulled me aside as the council was breaking up.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he told me.

"Oh that's just great, I love hearing the seasoned guy feels just as uneasy about this as I do!" Percy groaned.

Thalia frowned, listening intently to what kind of warning ol' Daedalus would have passed on to Percy.

Mrs. O'Leary came over, wagging her tail happily. She dropped her shield at my feet, and I threw it for her.

"Seriously, I find it hard to believe he's a bad guy," Alex sighed, really wanting to mean it. "He's a dog person! Dog's are great judges of character, and this is like, the dog of all time!"

"Yeah, the one most likely attracted to an evil person," Magnus couldn't help but mutter. He was not a dog person in the slightest. It didn't stop him teaching Alex the sign for dog when he looked at him to try and change the subject.

Quintus watched her romp after it. I remembered what Juniper had said about him scouting out the maze. I didn't trust him, but when he looked at me, I saw real concern in his eyes.

"Concern for what though?" Jason asked shrewdly. Concern Percy would find out Quintus's real plan. Concern whatever Quintus might be up to would be revealed? Concern about Percy and these kids he'd met days ago? It was an endless list of possibilities, and they weren't getting little pop up bubbles of what everyone else was thinking along with Percy to answer.

"I don't like the idea of you going down there," he said. "Any of you. but if you must, I want you to remember something. The Labyrinth exists to fool you. It will distract you. That's dangerous for half-bloods. We are easily distracted."

"That was solid advice," Will grinned. He tried not to put to much cheerfulness in his voice Quintus was trying to be of actual help here in case it tipped Percy off to much, but it was nice he'd even given it a shot rather than writing them off. He'd been trying to help from the start, even in those short times practicing with Percy.

"You've been in there?"

"Long ago." His voice was ragged. "I barely escaped with my life.

"Haven't you guys been going on about history repeating itself a bunch?" Magnus looked to Nico who was most guilty of spouting stats of heroes from Percy's journey. "How short is that cycle exactly? Has Quintus gone and saved a lightning bolt and been in the sea of monsters too?"

"I mean, wouldn't surprise me?" Nico chuckled. "Maybe not that specifically, but you been in the world long enough and you're bound to follow somebody else's footsteps."

Thalia's mouth ticked without humor though. Luke would never find something like that funny, and the fact that this was still her first thought to many years later made her want to pour bleach in her ears.

Most who enter aren't that lucky."

He gripped my shoulder. "Percy, keep your mind on what matters most. If you can do that, you might find the way.

"Well that won't be hard for you," Jason smirked, "do you ever not have Annabeth on your mind."

"I, um," Percy meant to deny it, honestly, but he started blushing and stammering to hard to manage.

And here, I wanted to give you something."

He handed me a little silver tube. It was so cold I almost dropped it.

"Do you use ice as portable water?" Alex smirked.

"They invented cups for that," Percy rolled his eyes.

"A whistle?" I asked.

"A dog whistle," Quintus said. "For Mrs. O'Leary."

"Oooh," Magnus said in understanding. "Throw that thing as far away from you as possible."

"Oh come on, that's seriously cool," Alex insisted.

"You are the last person I need to explain a trap to," Magnus frowned.

"Just because the owner might be evil doesn't mean the dog is!" Alex insisted.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and the whistle will just melt," Jason shivered while waving Thalia to keep going as Percy started looking queasy at once for what the outcome of any of this was.

"Um, thanks, but—"

"How will it work in the maze? I'm not a hundred percent certain it will.

"Is it better or worse he's advertising he's not sure if this will work?" Magnus asked.

"Um, both?" Alex shrugged. "Either he's trying to lull Percy into thinking it won't work or he's being genuine." He looked very annoyed they still didn't have a clear motive for that going in when the journey was going to happen any page now.

But Mrs. O'Leary is a hellhound. She can appear when called, no matter how far away she is. I'd feel better knowing you had this. If you really need help, use it;

"No offense to the cute giant doggy," Percy shifted around uneasily, "but I'm sort of concerned what trouble he think's we're going to get into she'll be able to help." There was an annoying twang going on in his brain trying to give him an answer he didn't like, which was probably why he got no answer, theories or otherwise.

but be careful, the whistle is made of Stygian ice."

"That's a made up word," Jason scoffed.

"All words are made up," Alex grinned.

"It never occurred to me you make things out of ice other than water," Magnus frowned.

"You've clearly never frozen coffee and put it in your coffee," Will shrugged.

"What ice?"

"From the River Styx. Very hard to craft. Very delicate. It cannot melt, but it will shatter when you blow it, so you can only use it once."

"So if you freeze the River Styx it turns into, what did you call it?" Magnus double-checked.

"Stygian ice," Thalia repeated slowly, "and not necessarily. Stygian is a material found in the underworld, and using the River Styx is part of the process to forge it."

She stopped there, that was really all she knew of it. Magnus watched Nico curiously for more, and Alex and Jason both had hungry looks on their faces for the same, but he didn't volunteer it, instead gripping his sword. He wasn't really so convinced anymore they'd all think him a freak the second he started talking in detail about Underworld stuff, but the story of how he'd gotten his sword was still a bit private.

I thought about Luke, my old enemy. Right before I'd gone on my first quest, Luke had given me a gift, too—magic shoes that had been designed to drag me to my death.

"Trust me, we remember," Jason still had half a mind to go around barefoot after that nightmare if he found out his shoes were a gift from someone.

"I hope that doesn't mean you refuse to accept help again though," Will sighed, "Luke was a bad example."

Percy thumped his pen against his forehead rather than answer. He liked to think of himself as a trusting kind of guy until he had a reason not to, but there was something about Quintus he couldn't quite zero in on.

Quintus seemed nice. So concerned. And Mrs. O'Leary liked him, which had to count for something. She dropped the slimy shield at my feet and barked excitedly.

"Dog's aren't the best judge of character when you can bribe them," Magnus huffed.

"And cats judge everybody as assholes or food dispensers, so let's just agree not to use animals for this," Alex chuckled.

"The alternative is obviously pigs, Percy's had great experience with those," Thalia smirked while Percy non-so quietly threatened to summon that boar back on her.

I felt ashamed that I could even think about mistrusting Quintus. But then again, I'd trusted Luke once.

Those kinds of reminders always wiped the smiles right off of everybody's face. Percy had been through far to much already for someone going through puberty while he was at it.

"Thanks," I told Quintus. I slipped the freezing whistle into my pocket, promising myself that I would never use it, and I dashed off to find Annabeth.

"How good are you at keeping promises though?" Percy couldn't tell how much Jason was kidding as he asked.

"I think of myself as a man of my word," but Percy sounded just as unsure of himself. There was already a bad feeling like that whistle had frozen his butt cheeks together he clenched up so tight in pain over what had entailed there.

"He once promised Grover he could walk him home and then ditched him," Alex helpfully reminded.

"He made quite a few promises to Tyson though about being accepted and those worked out," Will grinned.

"We are not having a debate over my impulsive mouth if you guys won't stop laughing at the rest of the results," Percy swiftly cut in before that could escalate.

As long as I'd been at camp, I'd never been inside the Athena cabin.

Alex immediately gave him a wolf whistle while Magnus mock groaned and covered his ears for what that was implying.

Percy chucked a bit of his seaweed beanbag at Alex through his blush quite well.

It was a silvery building, nothing fancy, with plain white curtains and a carved stone owl over the doorway. The owl's onyx eyes seemed to follow me as I walked closer.

"Please don't have Athena place some kind of curse on you over this," Jason wrapped his fingers together in hope.

"Please don't let one of Annabeth's siblings make that final stand against me right now," Percy twitched over the idea of losing somebody's bookmark somehow ending in decapitation.

"Hello?" I called inside.

Nobody answered. I stepped in and caught my breath. The place was a workshop for brainiac kids. The bunks were all pushed against one wall as if sleeping didn't matter very much. Most of the room was filled with workbenches and tables and sets of tools and weapons. The back of the room was a huge library crammed with old scrolls and leather-bound books and paperbacks. There was and architect's drafting table with a bunch of rulers and protractors, and some 3-D models of buildings. Huge old war maps were plastered to the ceiling. Sets of armor hung under the windows, their bronze plates glinting in the sun.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," Magnus grinned in surprise how well it seemed he might fit into that cabin.

"And you were making faces at me while you're over here making dick jokes," Alex smirked, causing them both to laugh none-to-quietly to everybody else's complete confusion.

Annabeth stood in the back of the room, rifling through old scrolls.

"Knock, knock?" I said.

She turned with a start. "Oh...hi. Didn't hear you."

"We should almost be grateful she isn't here sometimes," Will chuckled. "The amount of times she's gotten engrossed in her reading and been snuck up on has landed to many kids to count in the infirmary."

"So she'd be the best at ignoring all of the constant interruptions?" Percy grinned. "I always knew she would have been the best one to be reading these."

"Shush you," Thalia sighed, "nobody needs to hear more of your constant praises on how perfect she is."

"I'm not, I mean I didn't-" Percy tried to stammer some defense while turning a whole new shade of red while Thalia laughed remorselessly and kept going.

"You okay?"

She frowned at the scroll in her hands. "Just trying to do some research. Daedalus's Labyrinth is so huge. None of the stories agree about anything. The maps just lead from nowhere to nowhere."

"Then why would they keep those maps," Jason looked offended at this uselessness.

"Decoration. Some kid in there might be a cartographer and using it as a bad example?" Nico shrugged.

I thought about what Quintus had said, how the maze tries to distract you.

I wondered if Annabeth knew that already.

"My money's on yes," Magnus said with pride.

"You never know, self-proclaimed geniuses are the worst about that whole missing the forest for the trees thing," Alex said. "Best to say it just in case."

"She's not a self-proclaimed anything," Percy rolled his eyes. He'd known that look of doubt on her face the moment he'd walked in. She was no more confident of this quest than he was, and he had proof he lived through it. There was something about that prophecy that had her worried even before they set out on this deadly trek.

"We'll figure it out," I promised.

Her hair had come loose and was hanging in a tangled blond curtain all around her face. Her gray eyes looked almost black.

"I've wanted to lead a quest since I was seven," she said.

"And all I wanted at that age was world peace," Magnus muttered. His cousin had led such a drastically different life from him he worried every other hour if she'd be half as excited to see him.

"You're going to do awesome."

She looked at me gratefully,

Percy wanted nothing more than to etch that moment into stone and never forget it again. His crush and their teasing and his own fear of never getting back to her aside all tied together still couldn't make him regret for a second he'd given her just a moment of peace.

but then stared down at all the books and scrolls she'd pulled from the shelves. "I'm worried, Percy. Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to do this. Or Tyson or Grover."

"Hey, we're your friends. We wouldn't miss it."

"Literally," Thalia snorted. "I'm kind of terrified of the anxiety inducing consequences if she'd dared to tell you not to come."

Alex put on a weirdly good impression of Percy's voice. "I can't let her do this alone, I have to help! But this is Annabeth, she told me not to, but she's perfectly capable and she knows what she's doing!" By the end he had each hand up arguing with each other finger to finger.

"There's a sock puppet competition out there missing their best competitor," Percy said, unimpressed.

"But..." She stopped herself.

"What is it?" I asked. "The prophecy?"

"I'm sure it's fine," she said in a small voice.

It felt like a hole was in Percy's side. A missing piece where Annabeth should be, resting against him, that no cold draft of the ocean could ever compare against now as he took an unsteady breath and tucked his arm around nothing.

"What was the last line?"

Then she did something that really surprised me. She blinked back tears and put out her arms.

I stepped forward and hugged her. Butterflies started turning my stomach into a mosh pit.

"What song were you playing?" Thalia asked with interest.

"Help!" Percy said in the tiniest voice. There had been no hesitation in him though as he'd pulled her in close, his fingers tangled up in her hair on the back of her neck, his arm drawing tight around her back. The only person he'd ever hugged, or been hugged by before was his mom. He'd returned the gesture on Annabeth without a second thought no matter their height difference or what her hair smelled like or how much it tickled as her breath had puffed across his neck where he found his fingers lingering now. 

When he closed his eyes, he could feel it all so vividly. When they snapped open upon Thalia reading, he felt a cold rush as if she'd been snatched away all over again.

"Hey, it's...it's okay." I patted her back.

I was aware of everything in the room. I felt like I could read the tiniest print on any book on the shelves. Annabeth's hair smelled like lemon soap.

She was shivering.

Thalia made her own humming noise of concern in the back of her throat. Moments like this, of not being there for her anymore made her jealousy of Percy a little more potent than usual. She'd once been that shoulder for her sister, now she was off in corners of the world while she was scared and clinging to someone Annabeth could have possibly lost again. The girl had gone through to much of that already in her life to deserve this lingering fear.

"Chiron might be right," she muttered. "I'm breaking the rules.

"And I still wholeheartedly approve of this," Alex said with the defiance of facing down a god. "No ancient rules, customs, or traditions should ever stop her from making the best decision in saving this entire camp's life!"

Will pursed up his lips to hold back how much he might agree otherwise if it wasn't for the state Annabeth had come back to camp in, alone. She'd truly believed this decision had gotten Percy killed, distraught and regret didn't begin to cover it all on her feelings of tempting fate.

But I don't know what else to do. I need you three. It just feels right."

"Then don't worry about it," I managed. "We've had plenty of problems before, and we solved them."

"With a high degree of success," but Jason had an uneasy brow raised. He'd never been a fan of these Greek kids being all willy-nilly about their interactions with the gods, and didn't have any more of a good feeling about how they were now flaunting primordial rules.

"This is different. I don't want anything happening to...any of you."

Behind me, somebody cleared his throat.

It was one of Annabeth's half-brothers, Malcolm. His face was bright red.

"And they were just hugging," Alex snorted. "You've scared that poor teenager from life against so much as getting caught holding hands lest his siblings walk in on that."

The others gave a mild chuckle, but Nico swallowed a dry, dusty throat. Even the idea of imagining hugging Percy sent off warning bells in his head like someone was going to condemn him for the thought. He glanced guiltily at Will and away, it certainly hadn't felt like an evil, bad thing to almost fall asleep next to him, practically on top of him...but gods did his stomach feel likely to explode at the idea of anyone seeing that.

"Um, sorry," he said. "Archery practice is starting, Annabeth. Chiron said to come find you."

"I have a really bad feeling he has a sixth sense about letting any of the campers sneak off," Magnus muttered, though in his cousin's particular case he might be a little grateful for this if Percy ever digested those butterflies.

I stepped away from Annabeth. "We were just looking at maps," I said stupidly.

"It was a special magic map that one could only see after enacting an ancient ritual of-" Jason couldn't finish and broke off laughing. Percy waved his hand indulgently for them all to get in on the laughter now, he'd take it all to feel that warmth linger a bit longer where Annabeth couldn't be.

Malcolm stared at me. "Okay."

"Tell Chiron I'll be right there," Annabeth said, and Malcom left in a hurry.

Annabeth rubbed her eyes. "You go ahead, Percy. I'd better get ready for archery."

I nodded, feeling more confused than I ever had in my life. I wanted to run from the cabin...but then again I didn't.

"Run in circles," Will offered oh so helpfully.

"I keep telling you I'm not a guinea pig anymore!" Percy groaned in exasperation.

"Annabeth?" I said. "About your prophecy. The line about a hero's last breath—"

"You're wondering which hero? I don't know."

"No. Something else. I was thinking the last line usually rhymes with the one before it. Was it something about—did it end in the word death?"

"Look at you, knowing how to rhyme things," Alex applauding him was definitely mocking.

"It could have been any number of things." Magnus nodded in mock agreement. "Meth, maybe somebody has a drug problem, or maybe Macbeth, we already know you might have some problems with ghosts, or maybe it was Annabeth, and the line was, oh but you'll be fine Annabeth!"

"I'll ask my dad if he'll take notes on any of those suggestions for the future," Will snickered while Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, they probably would have gone blood shot from trying if he weren't in the ocean.

Annabeth stared down at her scrolls. "You'd better go, Percy. Get ready for the quest. I'll—I'll see you in the morning."

I left her there, staring at maps that led from nowhere to nowhere; but I couldn't shake the feeling that one of us wasn't going to come back from this quest alive.

"I don't like your feelings anymore!" Magnus yelped with such a crack to his voice it sounded painful.

"Thalia? Thalia that one wasn't true, right!" Percy looked seconds away from shaking her to get an answer. His gut reactions had nearly always been right in the past.

Thalia twisted the links on her bracelet up, nearly pinching one of her fingers off as she tried to figure out how to answer him. "Percy, you got to trust me when I say it all works out." She hated giving that answer as much as Percy was tired of hearing it though, and thrust the book towards Nico to keep going so nobody had to linger on that longer than they had to.

[knackeredforever]

SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE OWL HOUSE FINALE

Soooooooooo yeah watching and dreaming was amazing and I am probably never gonna recover from the ending of this show that means so much to me.

First thing the episode almost immediately cuts too luz’s belos dream sequence as the collector is shown to have captured and defeated the entire hexsquad just after for the future. Then luz panics wondering what the hell is going on and runs across the whole of belos’s castle where she runs into the hexsquad members one by one as they all get mad at luz and play into her worst fears. My favourite were Gus and hunter because hunters line about why do you get a new palisman and I lose flapjack while theirs a giant statue of flapjack in the background is really good and gus’s speech is great and I genuinely don’t think we have seen Gus this pissed looking in the entire show. As for eda and king’s nightmare sequences eda is treated like a monster by her family with Lilith looking like her S1 appearance but with short hair and eda’s father having his other eye ripped out and bleeding. And king’s nightmare is him about to be executed by bill next to the corpses of his siblings you know just wholesome stuff for a kids show. However luz then has to fight the entire hexsquad however only realises she’s in a dream when amity says witch’s battle instead of witch’s duel which is a cool callback to previous early episodes which happens a lot in watching and dreaming. Anyway this leads to luz escaping the dream sequence and then freeing eda and king. I was surprised how short the dream sequence was considering how heavily it featured in the trailer but the scenes we got were still really cool either way. Anyway we also get a shot of the collector talking to belos possessed raine and the collector talking about how he this nightmare plan which is implied to be belos’s idea which makes sense as considering how fucked up the whole thing is it would make sense to come from belos. That’s when the collector tells belos that king is a Titan which is really funny when belos refers to king as the dog like this guy genuinely had no fucking clue that king was a Titan and then he also finds out the heart he has been sitting under for probably decades is the titans heart which leads to belos completely abandoned his assumed original plan of possessing the collector and starts heading towards the castle to possess the heart.

Back with luz, eda and king they all reunite with one another and it’s really sweet. And then they play a series of games with the collector Pac-Man, marbles and Jenga and they keep beating him in a montage sequence that definitely would have been it’s own episode if the show hadn’t been shortened. Then we get the scene where the luz , eda and king realise that the collector literally has no concept of death or mortality. Leading to a very calm before the storm style sequence where the all of them go back throughout the isles and reminisce of the events up to this point we also get more of the collectors backstory where we find out the collectors older siblings the “archivists” are who told the collector to go and play with the Titans which he did however the archivists feared the titans power so they one by one through the use of the Titan trappers killed the titans one by one until the only one left was kings dad and their baby egg and they blamed the collector and so imprisoned them and hid king away. It’s interesting cause most people assumed the other collectors were also dead just like the titans but no the genocidal space gods are very much alive soooooo yeah that’s alot.

Anyway while this is going on Raine is fighting for their fucking life against belos after belos uses a Kirby warp star to get to the castle raine also becomes unpuppetified which is interesting the fight scene between them is really good and the fact that belos is only just barely able to possess the heart but then gloats to Raine as if belos beat them easily shows just how full of himself belos actually is the animation on the scene where he is on the heart is also great and his dialogue where he reveals that there are multiple Titan hearts finally answers why the heart in the castle is so small compared to the size of the Titan. So after possessing the heart Belos’s infection starts to spread massively across the isles however one thing I found super interesting when watching the episode is how Belos’s infection is designed first of all it’s basically green malice from Zelda botw but for some reason they decided to make Belos’s infection look like a coral reef with coral projections coming out of it some in separate colours from the rest of the belos goop which to me is so interesting because of course coral reefs are a positively good thing which makes it so interesting to me they decided to base Belos’s infection off a coral reef maybe because when the infection is petrified it looks like a bleached coral reef either way the design of it looks spectacular and the belos infection taking over the isles is one of the coolest and most visually interesting parts of the whole show in my opinion.

So after luz eda and king finish teaching the collector the power of friendship the collector here’s the isles breathing so and then belos just like when his mask was shattered in season 1 turns the entire Titan into sans undertale. They then rush towards the core of the infinite where belos has formed not really Titan belos because it’s own a really big belos goop form that’s attached to the titan sort of like a malignant growth on the Titan but it’s design is sort of a combination of the Titan with a dragon sooooooooooooo whatever. However the collector in their infinite wisdom decide to try to use the lessons they’ve learned to try to give belos kindness and forgiveness through THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP TM leading to the collector almost getting blasted to death by the massive death laser however is saved by luz however she is hit by the belos infection and is consumed by it and turned into light balls the collector literally does not understand the concept of death so trying to see them struggle to bring luz back even someone like me who doesn’t care that much for the collector found this scene quite sad. Then we see Luz’s light travel through the isles which several characters witness also reaching the archives where the hexsquad and camilla are, and camilla cry’s when she sees the light implying she knows luz is dead this light helps to awake the rest of the hexsquad who have to use glyph magic to save everyone which it’s interesting that their temporary loss of magic is entirely down too them simply being tired out instead of any of the insane belos stuff going on. Then theirs eda and king who eda tells the collector that she can’t think she can control herself anymore as both king and eda go into their what I’m gonna call rage forms as that makes the most sense.

So going into the in between world we finally find out who the fuck the glowing figure in for the future was its kings dad and he is such a cool character first of all the bad girl coven t-shirt and baggy glyph pajamas the glorious dad bod the Hooty in her eye which sort of confirms that Hooty is related to the Titan in some form perhaps Hooty is indeed a tapeworm in the Titan. He is canonically bi-gender which is awesome considering they are the boiling isles (BI) see its all connected. We then find out that kings dad has been watching the entirety of the events of the show within the in between world and that she did indeed show luz the glyphs on purpose due to Luz’s kindness towards king and everyone else on the isles unlike Phillip who he personally his the glyphs from because Phillip is an asshole. So luz asks papa Titan if she’s just as bad as belos and he says that no Belos is crazy and needs to go down. So papa Titan then tells luz that dying is straight and brings her back to life with new Titan powers while before she dies for real we see the Titan in all his glory as she sinks to the bottom of the in between realm.

Luzs new furry oc form is awesome for several reasons because first it incorporates elements of both eda’s harpy form and king into its design because it’s full of both bones and feathers. Another awesome thing is how Luz’s Titan design looks typically very evil looking dark black bones all over and Luz’s new dark black eyes. However Titan luz is the ultimate force of good which is contrasted by the emperor’s coven which always wore white and gold typically associated with good and righteousness which is used to hide the vile nature of the emperor’s coven. And I’m so happy that Luz’s final super form to take down belos looks conveniently evil. Considering belos always saw the residents of the BI as evil monsters so he’s destroyed by the manifestation of that idea but as a force for good the only thing that would be more fitting is if he was destroyed by giant pride flag coloured laser beams.

Anyway when they get to Belos’s castle and see Belos attached to the heart like one of those necromorphs you find attached to the walls in dead space (I don’t know their name) we get another epic action scene ending in luz screaming the iconic NOW EAT THIS SUCKA and ripping Belos off the heart and slamming him in the ground.

We then get my favourite scene in the episode which I could genuinely talk about how good it is for hours with luz looking down at Phillip in the same way Caleb’s ghost did as Phillip till the very fucking end tries to manipulate his way out of the situation at hand claiming it was his “curse” that caused him to do such evil things despite eda also being cursed (which only happened due to belos’s propaganda he instilled within Lilith) and eda never turned into a genocidal dictator. While belos insists he’s human just like luz while the rain melts off his skin like he’s the motherfucking wicked witch of the west. He then tries to tell luz that she’d be just as bad as him if she lets him die which we all know is bullshit so she simply stands their as the boiling rain doesn’t affect her as practically a religious figure in the BI while the man who put his bigoted beliefs before everyone else is melted into a fucking puddle and then king Raine and eda coke to finish the job and stomp on him to death GOOD RIDDANCE. All the main characters then lay in the grass exhausted which damn it they deserve it.

At this point we have the cry because the shows almost over section of the episode where all the characters reunite with their families including hunter getting adopted by Darius and Eber (rip hunter noceda) and odalia being ignored by the rest of her family and is never seen again good bye you abusive asshole. As well as the rest of the characters reuniting. Then we get the time skip that I was dreading and it was amazing as I thought it would be and yes made me tear up alot love the little bait and switch of thinking luz went to a human college only for camilla to say you met them last week and then we get to see everyone’s new designs and yes half of them look like pirates now it’s great. The time skip is implied to be about 3 to 4 years as luz is now 18 and certain parts of note are harpy Lilith pog , hunters new palisman waffles , sky pirate amity is awesome , the university of wild magic being made of a palistrom tree is amazing and eda being headmaster as well as looking like mother fucking Captain Hook is great. Raines fox palismen that’s either their old palisman or a new one is also cool and a lot of people have pointed out how Raine is seemingly the new leader of the boiling isles with having the Titan badge with a ribbon on it and always showing up to important events on the BI.

Then we have alador finding a way to remove coven sigils which is something I wanted to happen in a time skip setting so that’s great also aladarius hints YES. Finally we have luzs big king ceneria which is beautiful including one last lumity kiss for the show. And also older now around 12 year old king which is cool we see the collector in the sky making stars and then as the ultimate ending we see every character in the show saying the iconic BYYYEEEEE and then the show just ends god that was amazing.

So yeah I personally loved watching and dreaming I’ve seen some people online have some problems with it the only one I really agree with is that it was a crime that we never saw amity get to see Titan luz. But yeah I’ve also heard some say that they didn’t like how the collector was handled which I can’t really give my opinion on because I don’t have many opinions on the collector myself and I think their probably my least favourite out of all the important characters to the story but I liked many moments with them throughout the episodes they were in I just think they were a strange character for the story overall. I’ve also heard some criticism of belos’s death scene which I personally loved but I see where people are coming from with it as we don’t see Caleb or Evelyn or any of the golden guards but they were probably not included cause they were shown throughout for the future instead anyway I love this series and I’m probably never gonna stop talking about it cause it’s amazing and I hope we get more content based off it in the future.