#shadow also remembers so maybe her case will be one of the last ones after they figure out some stuff

[howcouldtheyletmebeanadult]

What makes me more excited about sonic prime is definetly the possible character interactions.

All of the universes we've seen so far look kind of hostile. Both the jungle and the pirate worlds had a scene with sonic's friends threatening him. And i imagine a world where eggmen(? Are ruling would lead people to be a little more closed off, suspicious or even agressive. That plus no one (except shadow) seems to know who sonic is.

Of course, not all seems lost, we also saw Sonic working together with both the pirates and the apocalypse crew. Edgy Tails even seems to be helping him. What gets me excited is how they got to that point.

Edgy Tails looked so angry in general in the trailer he debuted in. Yet in this one there's a scene where he and sonic seem to be getting along pretty well, dude even having a smile in his face while explaining stuff to sonic.

What i'm saying is that Sonic will most likely have to gain the trust of his friends in order to save them and the universe.

Anyway i just think there's a LOT of potential for good character moments and interactions in prime, and im SO excited for it

(My personal theory/headcanon right now it's that, the visits to each universe will be focusing on the relationship of sonic and one of the alternative versions of each of his friends (ex: tails in the apocalypse one).)

[bigfan-fanfic]

Iphicles - The Lightning Thief (Brother!Reader x Percy Jackson PLATONIC)

Part 1 here

Having a brother like Heracles definitely made Iphicles' life harder.

Heracles, when driven mad by Hera, killed Iphicles' children. Though Iphicles was a strong warrior and a Kalydonian boar hunter in his own right, he would never be out of his brother's shadow. Even his death was usually related to helping Heracles in some way.

But maybe, like you, he didn't care.

Or rather, he cared so much more for his brother than for himself.

Percy gets expelled from Yancy Academy and comes home, and you hate that you can never email him or anything because then the monsters will keep after him, and letters don't work because they'll tend to frustrate Percy when he tries to read your handwriting.

But at least your little brother trusts you - he tells you about Mrs. Dodds, and how everybody thinks he's crazy.

"Well, you are crazy." you tease him, and he elbows you with a smirk. "But I also believe you. I saw that awful old woman at parents' night, remember? Wore a leather jacket? Accent thicker than honey?"

You'll always believe him. What else is a big brother for?

Percy's surprised when you get home. Because the dynamic has shifted a little. You have a new part time job at AGS River Shipping - really Aegeus, one of Poseidon's other names. There, Poseidon or some mercenaries hired teach you how to fight.

You're not a demigod - you don't have those hard-wired battlefield instincts or the ability to innately read Ancient Greek.

But you can learn, and learn you do, training with a Celestial bronze spear - since you can't heal with ambrosia or nectar, you need as much distance between yourself and danger as possible. The mercs also teach you how to use a handgun - apparently the Cyclopes are working on a modified celestial bronze handgun.

In any case, your confidence, your slowly improving physique, your new knowledge - it shows in the way that you carry yourself, the way Gabe is more hesitant to engage in conflict with you. And in your more strained relationship with your mother.

You disapprove of Sally keeping Percy in the dark. And subjecting you both to Gabe because of her own hangups, about taking care of herself, about losing Percy... it's taken a bit of a toll - you want to be able to tell Percy, but both your mother and Yuri... and Poseidon have told you to let him find out on his own.

But, like always, there's that annual trip to Montauk.

For a moment, it all feels like old times. You joke and smile as usual.

But the winds heighten and the waves crash, and you sense the message from the lord of the sea: danger.

If Mom won't protect Percy, you will.

You're about to steal the car when Grover shows up, and Mom drives you all away from the monster that arrives.

Asterion, she calls it, and you know instantly what she means. You lean out the window and hurl your spear, which you can summon to your hand from a ring you wear now.

But Sally is distracted by this sudden reveal, and the car crashes.

You see that the Minotaur squeezes her into light, and she vanishes, and you see your brother turn the beast to yellow powder - and faint.

It's your job to get him to safety now. You're the only one left who cares about him.

With the last ounces of your strength, you throw Percy over one shoulder and Grover over the other, and you carry them both across the boundary line.

The last thing you see before passing out is a man in a wheelchair and a concerned man in a Hawaiian shirt looming over you.

"Oh dear... Uncle's been fiddling with Fate."

[tired-reader-writer]

Arslan Senki Chapter 125

So I meant to do this last night but apparently I had accidentally hit the daily tumblr post limit, and was stuck unable to post or reblog anything up until now! I AM FREE, MUAHAHAHAHA.

I will be cannibalizing the discussion @innerchorus and I had in our DMs since all of that was what I meant to put in the post all along, though I'm running a bit low on energy so I won't be weaving screencaps into the post.

One of the first things that stuck out to me was how humble the residence of Arslan's birth parents was, when I read spoilers and it said “knight”, I had assumed something... a little larger than that. Nothing grand, not a mansion or anything, they weren't prominent knights, but... not this. I wonder what the social standing of “knights” in general are? Zaravant also described himself as a knight, iirc. Though it's likely that knight in this case was used to refer to a warrior in general than a specific caste/rank? Maybe cavalry officers of any rank were deemed knights?

I apologize for jumping backwards but oh, oh man I want to hug Arslan so bad. His face! The way Arakawa took the time and panel space to really show how he tried to hold his reaction back. He's trying to be composed and he succeeds. Even something of this caliber (even if he did suspect it all along) didn't make him lash out. He has incredible self-control, or maybe he's just too used to setting his own feelings and reaction aside. I don't think he's repressing it here though, rather he's facing it head-on.

(I wonder how Andragoras even managed to find Arslan, and that swiftly, too.)

Turns out the marzban thing was a translation error, which is good because I was raising my eyebrow skeptically at that panel when I first read it.

Man something about the memory and deaths of a family who were basically exploited just vanish away, paved over and buried. There's just something so relevant to my interests and the themes of Wolfpack about this all. The clan is all about remembering and protecting those the world would've deliberately chosen to forget, after all.

Also, Arslan's father wasn't prepared to raise his own child? Boo. Wolfpack!Shapur was twice the single father by age 22, LOL. (I jest, it would've been harder for him than it would've Shapur, considering the financial situation and the fact that he doesn't have people he can leave the baby to when out at battle or something. It's natural for him to be worried. I'm sure he saw this as the best path possible, and hey, his son will be a prince! Surely a better life than he could ever lead as the son of an insignificant knight.

Arslan considering the notion of Andragoras possibly planning to sire another male heir... I don't have any intelligent commentary to give on the matter but I found it interesting. Perhaps another king in Andragoras' shoes might've done it. Gotarzes certainly did.

Tahamenay sure did go through a lot, and the dehumanizing lenses everybody saw her through meant that she was villified and demonized for just trying to survive (or just existing, period! the things that happened to the shitty men in her life was NOT her fault) She's not my fave, no, but I do feel for her. Like, her homeland got annexed! As someone from a country that got occupied by both Britain AND Japan and suffered under them, that really resonates with me. And while Pars fights for its freedom (and it should, I'm not arguing otherwise), Badakhshan???? Still under occupation for more than sixteen years, if I'm correct. There's just something heartbreaking about it.

Arslan confirming that his wet nurse and her husband being purposefully murdered to tidy up loose ends! And he's rightfully angry at the answer— we don't see his face in full, his eyes are shadowed when he asks the question, he clenches his hands when he hears the answer, and grits his teeth too. I may be reading too much into this but the agony on Tahamenay's face being replaced by cold distance when she said “They were. To avoid any complications later.”, the almost clinical way she delivered it, it's such a stark contrast from her emotion mere moments before. Maybe, just maybe, the delivery of the truth on top of the truth itself was what set Arslan off (though of course, he still does not act on it). Maybe there's something to be said about the disregard of “insignificant” lives.

I think Tahamenay has shut her feelings down, and her daughter is the only thing she'll let herself feel anything over. The sheer trauma and the constant bombardment of such vitriol from all angles meant that completely shutting down all emotion was... probably the only way to cope. Conceal it, don't feel it.

The thing is, though, even if he were to “Arslan: exit stage left” out of this conflict, where would he go? I'm sure he'd have little problem finding happiness in a humble life, he's never been one to care about stuff like birthrights and status, but where would he go???? The people he loved before his life as a prince are gone. Wet nurse and husband, dead. Everyone else? The kids he played with? Probably don't even remember him anymore due to the distance (I assume they didn't know he was the prince). Would he even be able to recognize them anymore? And would Team Arslan follow him into exile? There is technically an out, yes, but it's not a meaningful one. Just like how Hilmes is trapped in his own identity, Arslan also is, though Hilmes chose to build his own cage and Arslan was unknowingly put into it. And there's something to be said about how both their claims/identities were laundered. Hilmes is not the son and heir of Osroes. Arslan does not possess royal blood.

@innerchorus pointed out that Tahamenay was offering Arslan what she would have chosen herself (and this lines up with novel canon where she retreats to her homeland and distances herself from court), and it makes sense, this was a game she never asked to play. Still, it's just really sad that Arslan can never truly go back to who he was before all this.

I also loved the way his dialogue was paired with the internal monologue in black panels, even if I can't quite put my finger on why. That part was brilliantly done. (Maybe the way the “camera” comes closer and closer to his face as he proceeds?)

And the way that Tahamenay was prepared to receive angry words and even physical violence as a matter of course, it either speaks to her own guilt about the situation, OR the way she was treated so shittily by all the men and people in her life. Or maybe it is both. A brilliant moment of characterization, where she is shaped by her experiences and is in turn, blinded by them. Arslan is not that kind of person. He bows to her, and then leaves.

I have nothing to say about Kishward's worried face, but Arslan declaring his will is such a powerful moment. I'm reminded of a very early Narsus moment that's very relevant, I went and dug this out from my reread tag:

Here's what I had to say about it back then:

“What Narsus basically means here is: State a concrete vision, a cause, a goal, and people will naturally gather round to support it— to garner allies, you must basically broadcast what it is that you wish to achieve.”

And Arslan here is doing just that. Fantastic.

I know I said no screencaps in this post but I couldn't help it! It's such a powerful moment.

Arslan has really grown into his role and he's embodying the counsel Narsus gave him all those chapters ago!

And Hilmes, I see, is having a not-so-spectacular time.

The way Osroes spoke of Hilmes makes my skin crawl. He doesn't even deign to refer to the boy as “he”, and “send the thing to meet its true father” is just. YIKES. It's not the child's fault he was born into shitty circumstances, Osroes! How could he have raised Hilmes all those years (eleven!) with no outward sign of contempt, and just. Never develop any sort of attachment to him? No hesitation? Maybe it's the fever that's making it worse but I don't believe it was all delirium which just makes it worse. I hate Osroes.

Andragoras really did it as revenge, which seals the deal that he is, in fact, speaking the truth. It's just like him, and loathe as Hilmes is to admit it, he does realize that. This boy too deserves hugs. SOMEBODY COME HUG YOUR PRINCE.

And even still, even as his world is crumbling around him with no preamble, he still has enough headspace to process and start piecing the pieces together. Hilmes has POTENTIAL, he's a good commander and this right here shows his intelligence and relative ability to keep it straight in stressful conditions (relative, because of his whole consumed by revenge thing). If only he wasn't led astray perhaps, he could've made a good Shah. He unfortunately harbors some very typical biases about social class or whatever, but perhaps it could've been given a chance to change. But as things are now, his chance of being a Shah at all is...

Another Arslan-Hilmes parallel: they're both refusing to back down even as their lack of claim is revealed, and though the refusal stems from very different emotional roots there's a commonality in that they keep at it because if they stop now then what did all those people fight for? Though, Arslan's motive is selfless (he's doing it because it's his duty to the people who gave so much for him) while Hilmes' is selfish (it's tied to his sense of self-worth).

And Hilmes putting things together (so close, so close!) signifying his refusal to give up, that's what spurs Andragoras into action.

Man, what a fucking chapter, amirite?

Now with all that out of the way—

ITTY BITTY BABY BABY BABYYYYY HE'S BARELY LARGER THAN A COIN POUCH (and if we remove the swaddling cloth he might actually be smaller oh godddd) like I would've made infant Areyan tiny anyways but ohhhh god I'm about to cry. He's so huggable. I WILL SOB.

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Headcanons and Assumptions

Last post before I begin posting the completed timelines in either 2 or 3 days!

What Messiah was Stephen looking for? Do we know who they are?

I mean, there are a lot of Messiah candidates in SMT. I'm sure Stephen found what he was looking for somewhere in those timelines. In anh case, whatever apocalypse he was expecting didn't happen over here (yet). The closest thing to a Messiah you will get in the Persona timeline is Minato/Minako. Stephen will have to settle with the Great Seal.

Wait, wait, wait. So, who created the COMP in the Persona Timeline?

Everything points to Ideo Hazama as the original inventor. His own game tells us so. It seems that he only created one model, though, so when he brought his entire school to the Expanse, Tamaki had to rely on a smart teacher of hers to recreate a COMP for her (probably based on blueprints or notes Hazama left behind). HOWEVER, the teacher also took inspiration from a device he saw from a kid with dog, making a reference to this guy. In conclusion... I don't know, man. This is what happens when you don't patent things.

Was the Karukozaka Incident also part of Phil and Nyarly's bet?

Oh, not at all 😂. They were entirely focused on their players in Mikage-cho and Sumaru that they didn't notice all thay was going on in Karukozaka. By the time they realized, a human teen had taken over ALL of the Expanse and gained godlike powers. I'm pretty sure they were freaking out in their own ways. This incident was so impactful (I mean, someone took over the damn EXPANSE), that it influenced how they played their game in the future. I like to believe that Philemon took Tamaki AND Reiko's characters as a template for what a guest should be like, only adding "power of friendship" to the mix. On the other hand, Nyarly designed the Joker outfit as a way to homage the only "ruler" the Expanse ever had. Didn't help with his hatred for humanity, tho.

If Maya remembered the Other Side, why didn't the world end right there? Or why wasn't she "punished" like Tatsuya?

Maya wasn't part of the initial deal with Philemon. She was too busy being dead.

That was the deal. Maya not remembering was a side effect of, well, that meeting having never happened in the first place. By the time Lisa, and/or Michel remember (depending on your in-game choices), the bet between Phil and Nyarly is already over and there's no point in acting on it.

The Kirijo Group experimented on 100 kids after Mitsuru got her Persona to create artificial ones, but that night Mitsuru and her dad were accompanied by artificial Persona users. What's up with that?

I believe that the Kirijo Group began their artificial Persona experimentation with adult volunteers. They were probably running on whispers of the abilities of the P1 and P2 users to fend off shadows, using what was already known from the New World Order. For all they knew all Personas were volatile. But a girl just awoke to this power naturally, with a Persona with no drawbacks. Maybe children was the way to go? Every condition during Mitsuru's awakening (the stress, the young age, a slight fear of death, etc) was recreated with their new lab rats. They didn't need the failed adult experiments and they just... disappeared.

How could have Ken frequented Baofu's website if he closed it after EP?

True, he might have closed his rumor and wiretapping website, but Baofu became a man-searcher. This still fits with what Ken was looking for. Maybe Baofu opened a more legitimate website for his new business, and Ken began to frequent it to look for news of a murderer or some criminal that looked like the one who killed his mother. Remember, Ken didn't know about Personas at first. Maybe Ken ended up finding Shinjiro on his own, or had to make a personal request with Baofu.

"Alright, I've got the man, but don't confront him because I believe this might be a supernatural incident."

"I promise."

Next thing Baofu knows, the client he talked with online (who had a 80% chance of being a kid) tried to kill his mother's murderer himself. Should he...? Nope, the Kirijo Group got involved (same company that might be getting investigated by the Nanjo Group right now). Godspeed, kid.

[numptypylon]

Chasing Shadows part 1 speculation

New shortstory dropped, and it’s JUICY!

Super curious to see what’ll happen with this one, I feel like she’s gotta be tied to Kim’Dael/Bloodmoon Huntress, there’s a lot of tie-ins, just in the first part of the shortstory, and backed up by the titles of the audiotracks, confirming that the Bloodmoon Huntress storyline will likely take place in Scumport.

My wild theory is that Redfeather IS Kim’Dael, and she remembers Rayla, and is being so pointed with the comments very deliberately, to manipulate her into something. Probably not the case, but hey, speculating is fun, and Moon magic is all about those illusions.

The 15 years doesn’t quite fit, it’d be more like 8, since she last encountered Rayla (9-ish then, 16-17 during this shortstory)

Whatever that favor Rayla was asked to do at the end of part 1, sounds like bad news for her, and I do wonder whether that ends up being a catalyst for her returning to Katolis in some way. Callum is repeatedly on her mind, she PINES. And that’s an unanswered question from S4 I reeeeeally want an answer to: what made Rayla return, after two years away, when it wasn’t that she found Viren or any hint of him, I feel like SOMETHING would have triggered that change of heart.

My alternate theory is that Redfeather will befriend and mentor Rayla but eventually die, like mentors tend to, and Rayla tried to prevent it and failed, and that’s where the “you can’t save everyone” came from, from Rayla, in S4, that we also haven’t gotten an explanation for, because it felt like she was referring to something specific. And this could ALSO be the catalyst for Rayla returning to Callum.

I’m psyched for part 2! No idea if it’ll be up tomorrow or maybe next tuesday?

[cawthorntales]

"While we wait for our ride. I have some things I need to tell you. In case it changes your mind about us."

"Darlin, nothing is going to change my mind."

"We will see Brock. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not a writer. I don't even like to write I find that shit boring. I needed a cover for the bachelor challenge. I actually run an underground crime ring, my people do it all extortion, robbery, torture. However I don't allow killing.

I wasn't always like this. Hell I didn't even used to look like this. I was weak. I let people walk all over me, I never wanted to inconvenience anyone, I hated piercings, I was too shy to show my body off, I would go out of my way to help people, The sight of blood would make me pass the fuck out and I never swore.

That all changed when I bought my house. The house came with a chicken named Emily who turned out to be an evil bitch... I mean witch who had been cursed hundreds of years ago and turned into a chicken. I didn't know any of that and I made some breakfast one day with eggs she had laid and the eggs had traces of her magic in them.

I was turned into the man I am now through those eggs. Through her magic I am not going to age, I can't get sick or anything like that. Only killing me would end my life. And it'd have to be a pretty fast way to kill me before my body healed.

Emily wanted an evil, selfish asshole to help her. And that's what I am. I stopped giving a fuck about anyone, but myself and eventually Emily a long time ago. I did the show on the very slim chance I could find a man to love. If I was even capable of love anymore. I wasn't expecting much. But then you happened. I may have lied and kept information out. But I mean it when I say I love you Brock.

I love you more than anything else in this world and I would crack anyone's skull who so much as laid a hand on you to harm you. I'm still the man you fell for. I didn't lie about that. I'm just not as soft and shit as I pretended. I understand if this makes you want to turn tale and run. But I felt I owed it to you to tell you who I am now that the cameras aren't rolling.

Emily still had corrupted eggs that I didn't know about. She was at the bachelor house with us the entire time watching everything from the shadows. Without my knowing it. The next morning after I picked you the asshole tricked Rayan into eating an egg. He's now changed and isn't the Rayan you remember. She said she needed someone to act in my place when I was busy with you."

"Wow." Brock said.

I couldn't make out his expression or emotions. And for the first time in a long time I was scared and nervous.

"Emily wanted me to trick you into eating the last egg. She said you'd leave me when you learned the truth. I told her I wasn't going to take that choice from you. Rayan and I didn't get a say. I wasn't going to do that shit to you."

"I'm not going anywhere Logan." Brock sighed.

"Really?" I hated how vulnerable I sounded asking him. I didn't do vulnerable anymore.

"Really. Thank you for being honest with me. I can understand why you put on a facade for the show and while I do feel deceived. I get it. And thank you for not doing what the bird wanted and forcing that onto me. I don't want it. I like the man I am."

"I love the man you are." I replied.

"Who knows maybe I can fix ya."

I smiled. "Cowboy there is no fixing me. Her magic is permanent and strong. This is the fucker I am now."

"Alright then. That's good enough for me."

"Emily is going to be pissed she was wrong about you."

"Good. Let her be mad." Brock laughed.

I could listen to his laugh all day. Emily told me love was weakness. But what does she know about love? Maybe love can also be strength. Brock would be my strength.

~

Brock is by @theosconfessions

[crystaltoa]

With those tid-bits about Onu-Metru, that explains why Whenua is weird among onu-matoran. Many of those who work in the Archives don't see it as a job and would never leave if they could (although there's probably some exaggeration there). Whenua loves the Archives, but he wants to retire from being an Archivist. He sees it as an unwanted duty.

I can see that potentially being the case. Whenua avoids thinking about the future so he may never really have imagined what kind of life he would want if he were to take a different career path ('retirement' as we know it would be a foreign concept to Matoran, but many of them yearned for something other than their current job).

Maybe, like many Matoran who eventually become Toa, he was curious about what the world outside the archives was really like, or wondered what it would be like looking after and studying live Rahi like Matoro instead of just stashing them in stasis.

Another thing that might separate Whenua from his peers is if we take that headcanon that he is quite a bit older than the average Onu-Matoran due to their high mortality rate. He's not old compared to the Matoran population in general, but he's outlived a lot of colleagues. He's seen dozens, possibly hundreds of archivists die or go mad from the day to day hazards they face. He doesn't really get attached to people any more when he doesn't think they'll be around for long. (Look at how quickly he accepts that Nokama is going to die from poisoning in Maze of Shadows. No other stages of grief, just grim acceptance. He's seen this before and believes there's nothing to be done except make her last moments comfortable.)

It's also fairly unusual for a Matoran to remember as many traumatic events as Whenua does given that their usual response to severe trauma is amnesia. Perhaps the Matoran brain retains these things when that knowledge is key to one's survival. Which, Whenua very much believed his knowledge of the past was. Those other guys aren't around to learn from their mistakes, but Whenua certainly can.

As you say, he did love the archives though. He seemed most happy and at home when showing people around and explaining about the exhibits (Even Nuju didn't have the heart to be annoyed with him for that). But you can love something while also knowing in your heart that it's not a healthy environment and it's slowly destroying you. I imagine that feeling that one's job or duty is an unwanted burden is a source of guilt and shame for Matoran, so I doubt he'd ever tell anyone he was feeling that way.

It must have been an odd feeling coming back to Onu-Metru as a Turaga and seeing the place he has many fond memories of, but was also the site of a lot of pain and trauma. And then there's Dume expecting the Onu-Matoran to get back to work and for things to be exactly how they were before. But Whenua has changed too much as a person for that to seem acceptable to him any more, and his challenge now is how to keep Metru Nui running without the unnecessary sacrifice of so many Matoran's lives and wellbeing. And even the keeping of Rahi in stasis may have seemed wrong to him after learning to live in harmony with many of them on Mata Nui. It would have been interesting to see how different each Metru was after the return due to the experiences of the Matoran and Turaga on the island having changed their worldview so much.

[20001541]

so I'm going to answer this with the long answer I had typed for this since some wanted to hear it, putting it under read more

oh haha um well it's complicated to say the least

there was a point in time (2021-early 2023) where I was a super hardcore believer, I wrote and read tons of fanfic about it, bought a zine about it, made meta about it, argued with anti dfo who got angry at me in the replies and even joined discord servers about dfo because I was really in love with this theory

but as of late I find myself just not want wanting it at all and actually dislike the thought of it being canon. for numerous reasons I'll get into

first off I feel at this point it'll just be super rushed. maybe if it was done earlier I would've been more warmer towards it as there would actually be time to digest this info. it would be a huge deal with a hero being the son of the number one villain, if it were to be canon I would want a full self reflection from Izuku, more about his mom and her thoughts and feelings about this, flashbacks to inko and afo's first encounter and marriage in its early days, maybe afo trying to isolate Izuku further by releasing this information publicly and turning civilians and some heroes against him. having him and his mom shunned by a lot of people (people calling izuku devils spawn), getting to see his classmates reactions, all mights reaction (!!!). maybe a talk with the vestiges about it and just stuff like that.

but there's no hope of ever getting any of that if it's revealed now. it's the middle of battle and at most I could see Izuku probably being shocked, afo taking advantage of his shock for a brief moment then we move on. which is very :/, feels like it would just be cheap shock value at that point so why even include it when it feels more detrimental than something interesting. maybe he could make it canon and have it not be rushed, but considering how he's treated the other plot points like the ua traitor plot and machia's kind of out of nowhere betrayal in this arc, I'm inclined to believe it would be rushed and messy as well.

I think I'm far more interested in seeing how afo and tomura's struggle plays out and afo's final encounter with yoichi and an exploration of his past and the person that afo is, rather than some last minute revelation that ends up not adding much to the story.

also the fact that izuku never thinks about hisashi once also plays into me being very "what's the point of having this" here. I know him having his memories tampered with is a popular theory but to me sounds like an awkward way to bypass the fact your main character didn't reflect once on something that ended up being extremely important later. I don't see any evidence of that either, at least with tomura he had some hazy recall about his past before everything came back to him with izuku we get nothing at all about hisashi. at least do where he vaguely remembers a tall man with an eerie presence and gentle smile that didn't reach his eyes whose face is obscured in shadow saying he's going on a short business trip and then he never came back after.

the next reason is I don't really like the more popular fanon characterizations of afo in dfo's settings (and the way people try integrating it with canon) not getting into this as I don't want to step on any toes, but this thing particularly has really turned me off from the theory as a whole.

also I hate the way some dfo fans treat afo, I remember it being common at one point for people to be like "lol afo is only interesting if dfo is true without it he's just some dumb one dimensional villain". when that's not the case, he has a lot of interesting things going on for him. I just hate how some only see his worth in whether he is izuku's dad or not. not all dfo fans think like this though, I'm not generalizing all of them it's just some do this and it irks me so bad. (and to be honest I used to be like this too, but I've changed)

and I also feel like a lot get too caught up in dfo stuff that they end up neglecting afo's character as a whole and it leads to some poor interpretations of his character and certain scenes because I feel some are trying too hard to find evidence/justification that they miss out on some of the more interesting dimensions of his character. not saying all of them do this, but I've seen enough of this along with other stuff I've said that's made me more :/ towards the theory as of late

another thing is that I guess I've also just grew tired of waiting? some people can only wait for so long before they change their minds on things they've used to love. and as I've said before in my first point too I just don't see the point anymore. I don't think even if it does happen we'll get some super in depth look at it and how it affects izuku and other characters. I was more passionate about it during the time where it seemed like we could get a good look into it, but not I'm more meh as it seems like we won't.

that said I do not have anything against dfo theorists. some of my favorite writers are big dfo proponents, one of my favorite fanfics of all time happens to be a dfo fanfic. I have some au's of my own about it and I enjoy reading others au's and I do enjoy the occasional dfo art piece. a lot of dfo theorists in my experience are really nice too.

I think it's so stupid how angry people get at dfo theorists, how you can't mention it outside your circle without risk of being insulted or jumped on. which I have experienced before in my dfo days (not on here though). at the end of the day it's just a little theory people have come up with, if it comes true then whatever if it doesn't then whatever right? just leave people alone and even if you disagree with them at least be respectful. it would be neat if fans with differing opinions on stuff in the story could come together and have an actual conversation once in a while so both sides could better understand each other, but sadly this is the Internet and disagreements like that usually result in a angry back and forth exchanges filled with insults.

as a whole I'm not interested in the dfo theory anymore to me it's something I would prefer to just remain a fanon thing rather than something that becomes canon. but yeah these days it's just very rare for me to read it, it's not something I seek out and I usually only read it from authors I already trust. but if someone wanted me to read their dfo fic and they were nice about it well I wouldn't be opposed to reading it. I don't mind if someone wants to talk about it with me either. I like talking about afo as a whole even if it's in the realms of a theory I'm not crazy about.

I guess I am grateful to dfo in a way as its what made me really take notice of afo in the first place. It made me look more into scenes that he was in and over time I ended up liking him more than the theory itself and ended up just abandoning the theory as a whole. I don't think I would be as in love with him as I am now if it weren't for dfo making me a take closer look at him. also believe it when they say the dfo theorist to afo simping pipeline is real because it happened to me. if you're keeping this man constantly in your thoughts theres a chance it could happen to you.

overall I don't feel like it's going to be canon anymore? I don't really care for it being canon either. there's too much stuff going on that still needs to be wrapped up and I think dfo wouldn't be able to fit in all of it. the only things I would say make me hesitate about it being true is the fact he said hisashi will be revealed back in 2018 and some of the meanings behind hisashi's name. but generally feeling like there's a 20% chance of it happening seeing where we are as of now. I think past me would've been horrified to hear me say this now because I used to be extremely confident it would happen but things change

anyways you wanted my opinion and there it is, this is just how I feel and you're free to disagree with me as long as you're not rude about it.

[midwinterrmemento]

(**Major BSD manga spoilers below!**)

Okay but like… now I’m really curious what’s going on in Teruko’s mind, and what she’s going to do next.

Let’s talk about her a little bit. 👀

Since the Hunting Dogs were first introduced in the story, I would say she’s been the hardest for me to figure out—but even though she came right out and said in this chapter that she knows the truth about Fukuchi and still sides with him, that only raises more questions for me.

Of course, Teruko has always been obvious about her affection for Fukuchi, but ngl sometimes she was so obvious about it that it made me doubt her sincerity a little bit? Take this panel from Chapter 60, for instance:

I don’t know if it’s just me, but honestly, this panel has always felt a little odd to me? Especially the look on her face on the top left? Jouno doesn’t seem to think she’s lying, or at least he didn’t say so, but if that really is the case, then where exactly does Teruko’s intense devotion to Fukuchi come from?

If she knew that he was the mastermind all along, then what was she thinking when she heard that her comrades in the Hunting Dogs were kinda going off the grid one by one? Would it really make no difference to her if she knew what Fukuchi did to Jouno and Tachihara? Especially Tachi, seeing as they seem to have a particular bond, which we saw from their teamwork during the Sky Casino arc. What must’ve gone through her mind when she watched the video Tachihara made, defending the Agency?

Because obviously, she does care. And I can’t be convinced otherwise.

Think about the shadow that falls over her eyes when she’s done watching Tachihara’s video.

And then, not long after, how dull her eyes look when she reports to Fukuchi that she’s lost contact with Tecchou.

As far as I can remember, this is the first time we’ve seen that kind of look on her face? Like… to me, she seems kind of jaded, almost resigned. And that leads me to wonder.

We still don’t know much about Teruko’s past or her motivations, but she clearly takes her role as a Hunting Dog very seriously. Does she show… sadistic tendencies? Sure. But, kind of like Jouno, she seems to find some satisfaction in protecting the innocent—and punishing the villains in order to do so. Just look at her conviction here:

The Teruko we’ve seen in the last few chapters has been very different than the Teruko we see here (at least in my opinion). Part of me wonders whether something happened between then and now—like, if she actually didn’t always know that Fukuchi was the mastermind, but somehow found out later on? What if he approached her at some point and invited her to join the Decay of Angels, like he did with Jouno?

In any case, I really wasn’t expecting things to take this kind of turn with her, and right now I can only think of a few possible explanations.

If she really is loyal to Fukuchi, as she claims…

It’s because of her genuine respect for him (which seems more and more unlikely to me with time idk), or at the very least, because she believes that his plans really will stop the world from becoming the “garbage” that she describes up there in Chapter 76.

It’s because she fears his power, or maybe something has prompted her to come to the conclusion that trying to defeat him—or evil in general—is pointless. Imo, the way she got so upset with Atsushi in this most recent chapter for saying that there was still enough time to stop him kinda supports this.

But I also don’t want to rule out the possibility that she’s lying, and that she really isn’t as devoted to Fukuchi as she has seemed all along. After all, she’s already proven that she’s capable of surprises. If things continue to get worse, and if her teammates continue to get hurt (or… y’know), I wonder if that would be enough to push her to action.

I think the key factor here is how much she knows. Clearly, she understands that something bad has happened to Tachihara and the others, but does she know the extent of it? Would it change her mind if she were to encounter one of them in vampire form, and witness exactly what Fukuchi did to them? Because we all know whose side Tecchou would end up on if he knew the whole truth.

So, then there’s secret option #3, and the one I’m hoping for the most: all of this, such as her open adoration for Fukuchi since her very first introduction, has all been an attempt for her to gain his trust. Because it really doesn’t seem to me that Fukuchi would be expecting her to turn on him at this point, it would be a hell of a twist if she was the one to take him down now.

All in all, Teruko is such an interesting and under-analyzed character, and this chapter has me questioning everything I thought I knew about her. I don’t know about anyone else, but when the BSD manga resumes in the fall, I’m hoping that we’ll finally get a better understanding of who she really is. As it stands right now, she’s in a very unique position, since she’s basically the last Hunting Dog standing, and I’m really excited to see what she’s going to do, knowing that.

[theflyindutchwoman]

I honestly hate the Lucy UC storyline now. 1) she’s been in THREE Documentaries, one specifically about her going UC so it makes no sense (also not to mention Isabel outting her as a cop to that guy’s daughter, so maybe that’s were the storyline will go, he’ll try to get revenge on her for being a cop) and 2) she was upset about them not seeing each other much if she moved to a different station yet they wanted us to believe that she would have no problem going on a UC for 6 mths to a year and not seeing Tim (or Tamara)?!?! Like come on 🙄

For what's it worth, you're definitely not the only one feeling this way. I personally don't hate it, but I get it. This has been a bone of contention since s3, even more so lately. My biggest gripe at the moment is that, this storyline has been stagnant for so long, it's time to either commit, or give Lucy other opportunities. I wasn't sure if you were merely venting your frustrations or if you wanted me to answer : in case it's the latter, I'm gonna address your points but by no means am I trying to invalidate your feelings here. I'm just sharing my perspective on the matter.

Let's start with the documentaries. Honestly, at this point, I think we should simply take them for what they are : an opportunity for the writers to develop ridiculous plots and have fun, even though they don't make much sense… The last one was so over the top that I loved it - but I can understand that it's a bit hard to suspend your disbelief here… especially regarding the UC arc. I didn't mind Lucy being in them at first - or Nyla for that matter. Not to stereotype here, but I'm not sure the criminals she goes after watch these type of documentaries. And even if they were, they would still have to remember her specifically and there wasn't any particular reason to do so back then. I mean, so far, only one person in-universe has ever referenced these documentaries… and that lady was a director herself (5.06). That last one, on the other hand… Let's just say that outing Lucy as an undercover cop was definitely a choice… I almost feel bad for the criminals who went out of their way to be creative so they could get their hands on those UC lists, when really, all they needed to do was sit and watch true crime episodes. No respect for the craft! But more seriously : when the promo aired, I thought for sure that this issue was going to be addressed. I even wondered if I had missed a conversation or something after watching the episode. I guess, we're just supposed to pretend that it doesn't matter since not one single person raised the issue of Lucy being in the spotlight when she should be in the shadows. Then again, the LAPD doesn't see a problem with advertising a whole conference about covert operations… We clearly have a very different definition of secrecy. That said, maybe this will come back later and someone will recognise her. That's always a possibility - though it would seriously make the whole department look incompetent for not considering that ahead of time…

Another option would be to reopen the Teska plotline, as you suggested. The writers did leave the door wide open with all the loose threads, starting with how abruptly Lucy ended the op. Or how Isabel outed them as cop to the daughter, that's true. I have to say, I'm not completely convinced he would want to get revenge on Lucy. Sure, she lied to him about who she was. At the same time, she saved his kid's life, pushed him to make amends and get another chance with her and let him go free. She technically could have had him arrested : between the possession of a firearm and the conspiracy to commit murder, she had more than enough. I'm not saying the guy would become bestie with Lucy but out of all the people she's met while undercover, he's not the one with the biggest motive. Actually, I feel like Isabel would be a bigger target : after all, she's the one who infiltrated his gang and sent him to jail in the first place. Not to mention that his daughter knows how to contact her. But yes, he could always come back to wreak havoc. And as I mentioned earlier, he's not the only one. There's the female gang that might hold a grudge against Lucy. There are a couple of cartels that were crippled thanks to her. Any of her missions could come back to haunt her. But, and this is only my opinion, after spending three seasons filled with various vendettas from La Fiera, Elijah, Rosalind and whatnot, another plot like this would get old real fast. I don't think we need any more of these. Especially since Elijah is not fully over yet and we still have the ramifications from the finale to deal with. I'd rather Lucy just gives up on UC because she realises this is not for her. At least, it would be something different, you know what I mean?

And that leads me to your last point… Here's the thing : as upset as Lucy was at the idea of spending less time with Tim, she was still ready to move to another station, she still helped him get a new position that is notorious for their killer hours and she was still studying for the detective's exam. This didn't deter her at all. Obviously, this is different than being away for months on end, but she has been consistent in that regard. I understand the confusion and how illogical it sounds… But just because she was distressed about seeing Tim less, doesn't automatically mean she won't be able to handle being away. And just because she could handle it, doesn't mean she will want to do it. Speaking from personal experience here, it's a bit more nuanced - and complicated - than that I'm afraid. I only wish we would hear her perspective on all of this.

I also don't think that the narrative, or Lucy herself, was implying she would have no problem whatsoever with not seeing Tim (or Tamara) for a long period of time. I'm assuming you're referring to that last scene in 5.20, when she was worried about Tim not handling long term UC. As I see it, it was more about her trying to finally have an honest conversation with him about undercover, so they could hash everything out. This was introduced in 5.16, with Noah opening the can of worms, but they didn't get to the bottom of it since they had another conflict to take care of. Undercover is a bit of a sore point for Tim - for good reasons - and she knows it. She was there for the end of his marriage, she remembers his knee-jerk reaction when he found out she wanted to pursue undercover… He may fully be supportive now but she wants to gauge how he is truly faring with all of this. And after the events of the day (Isabel's return, their mini UC op…), it gave her the perfect opportunity to try to address this. She can guess he has been soldiering on for her and she doesn't want that. A place of honesty, remember. That's why she starts their conversation with : "Can I share something vulnerable with you?". She's putting herself in a vulnerable position by confessing how much she loves doing this job. She's trying to bring up the underlying issue in a way that wouldn't make him defensive. But a part of her has to also be afraid of his reaction. This isn't an easy situation. When she answers him "No. Um… I'm worried that you won't", it's because in that moment, her concerns are about him. Let's be honest, out of the two, he's the one more likely to have issues with this due to his past. She doesn't have the same baggage as him. And she's right to ask the question : how many of us have asked it? Apart from when she was his rookie or when he pushed her to go to the Academy, they've never talked about it. Only it's an important conversation to have if they want to spend their lives together. And they finally had it after her last mission. Another reason is that, in her case, she has something to counterbalance the hardship of not seeing Tim : doing something she loves. He, on the other hand, doesn't really have anything to outweigh this downside when she's away. However, he knew all of this from the start and still decided to start a relationship with her : simply being with her eclipses this drawback. This is what matters to him. But I can see why she would want to check with him if long-term undercover is something he can handle beforehand. It doesn't mean she doesn't have her own fair share of doubts. Now whether she can truly handle it… For the moment she thinks she can - and so far, she has. Maybe she's underestimating how hard it would be… and to be fair, it's not like she really has a frame of reference here. Listening to other people's experiences can only go so far…

If it helps though, I doubt Lucy will do too many long-terms undercover mission - if any - so all of this might end up being moot anyway. But I still believe the whole point of that conversation was to try to address the elephant in the room… They started opening up to each other, after several attempts, so maybe next season they will take a step further in that direction and explore Lucy's side of this, share some light on whether she has any doubts or worries. And hopefully, this storyline won't be in limbo for much longer. But again, this is just my perspective :)

[ashesbreadandbutter]

Douma + Claude x Fem! Reader Snippet || One's True Nature

So I spun a wheel for a cross fic type of thing. Did it a couple times so if you want to read the others follow and follow my progress.

Anyway, the two characters are obviously Claude Faustus (Black Butler) and Lord Douma (Demon Slayer). I'm having fun with this already.

Think I'll add cross fics to my commission list.

-

Douma + Claude x Reader

What it'll include: Spanking, biting, marking, breeding, dom and sub, choking and maybe a few others.

Goal : 10k words

~

It's been many long years. 

Many years since he was first beaten, destroyed by an archenemies who he had spent so much time on for such a silly reason. Said reason being some brat's soul because who was he without as the creature that he is. 

Claude lurks in the shadows. His form is different now from his previous life though not vastly so. He's of a toned build, with smooth, pearly white skin except for his hands and feet which were made up of claws. His body isn't the only thing that has changed but so has his location. 

These weren't the streets of London, lanterns and art lingered in every which was like a colorful dream as humans below seemed to have a celebration of sorts; drinking alcohol, laughing, and whatever else. 

To be fair, Claude has a hate for it. The loud noises, the colors, but ever since he's come back he's been struggling with a deep hunger, one that he hadn't been forced to deal with previously when he was in Europe, one that seems to lure him into more primal needs and sensations. 

It's annoying, the way that he's never been allowed to show this side of himself, to express his hunger like this… when he had been practically trapped in his last deal. He remembers the days, serving that young brat day in and day out and even with how hungry he was he was forced to stay in control, to tame his needs, just for him to lose control in the end anyway. 

Claude could admit that he didn't regret it, crushing that boy's… Alois’s, head in his strong hands until it seemed to pop like a grape and spill blood all over him. 

Even with how calm Claude presented in many cases back then of course he still had his emotions and when it came to Alois all he could do was feel annoyance, dread, anger… and Claude had put up with it until he simply couldn't. He could also admit that he paid the price, going against his arch enemy… Sebastian, even going out of his way to try and steal the other's demon's prey. His death… as humbling as it was to say, was one that was bound to happen and maybe Claude had done all of that just to end the suffering. As demons as he and others could do was live as they are and with Alois Claude had been needy, starved. What else was he to do but to go after what he could which has been that stupid, idiotic boy… though, here… it seemed different. 

Very different. 

Claude could smell the scents in the air, he's not as strong as he used to be but he seems now that he has the potential to do so now and such much more. 

He was… free. And freedom has never tasted better. 

There's so much food around but as the creature he is, the last thing he wants is a corn dog or poe of some sort… he wants blood, meat… and a lot of it.

One scent in particular seems to jump out at him suddenly and Claude doesn't hesitate to snap his gaze over in the same direction as if to follow such a smell. It's fruity, sweet,... Tempting and Claude feels a rush of heat run through him when he locates the owner. 

She's beautiful, as soft and sweet as she looks and dressed in sine silks. Claude hadn't cared much about the history of this place previously, the scenery, the festivals, the fashion trends but the second his eyes landed on her they stuck. She seems to order herself a snack and as Claude stands from his squat and decides to silently get closer Claude can't help but admire her. It's her sweet face, his soft skin, her feminine figure and if Claude was human his heart would be rushing. 

He is a demon again yes but never had he felt like this and if he had it must've been a feeling that had become long forgotten to him. Never once had he felt quite as… warm and hot like this over some random human woman and he isn't exactly sure what it is that makes him feel so drawn to her but it has him feeling like he was having a hard time keeping control of himself. 

It's interesting how difficult this new life of his was, how different it was from his old one. Never once had he felt a craving like this, with Alois, or even Ciel… it's like he quite literally wants to jump down there and tackle her to the ground, jump on her as if he was some sort of leopard, an animal, a beast and she… some sort of deer, prey. Outside of his rebirth he doesn't know anything about this new life he's been giving but what he does know is that suddenly he feels… hot. He wants this woman and while he still isn't sure what for he's confident in his choice. 

He needed to get closer, if not to know this woman than to touch her… caress her skin with both his hands and his lips and maybe he'd proceed by… keeping her, like some cute little pet at his side. Maybe if she agreed to stay by him and at his side he wouldn't kill her immediately. 

She walks along the streets and he follows like a lingering shadow as he tries to think about the best way to go about this. As she now sits at a bench by herself he settles on the building just behind her, looking down on her with bright eyes. He's still thinking and it's only when his eyes snap aside and land on an approaching figure that Claude feels like he has in fact wasted to much time. 

Whoever this guest was he was tall, broad and Claude could admit that the man's physical appearance was rather… impressive, distracting even. He wears a kimono just as everyone else has and even with such clean and gentle looking garbs Claude can practically smell how strong this male is. It's intimidating and Claude had come to an understanding that in this life demons in fact had ranks. Of course they always had but this was so different, so new and even though another other demon would have probably scurried away, Claude lingered even with the rush of tingles he feels race up his spine. 

He proceeds by watching the two, the only prominent features he's kept from his last life was his bright golden eyes which now watched the two figures. The male greets her, bowing his head to the woman before reaching out to take her hand and with a little giggle she gives it to him after her flashes a charming smile. Claude suddenly feels a bit more… annoyed, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scene because though he knows nothing about either one of these two and probably couldn't care less to do so but something about this guest… this man was reminding him of…

Sebastian. 

It's only then that her laughs rings through the air and Claude clears his mind to focus again only to look down and freeze when bright eyes are looking back up to him. 

A second passes where they stare at each other for a moment and then something seems to burst within Claude's chest. He holds the other demons gaze and the rush of emotion he feels makes him feel both ignited and frantic, as if that the moment their eyes connected with each other had been a deal of some sort all on its own. 

Claude reels back before he can help himself, jerking back and blinking owlishly. There's a rushing in his chest that makes him reach a shaky hand up and clutch his heart. 

Now. What the fuck was that? 

Claude wasn't sure at all but after a moment of silence he finds himself wanting… more. 

It's like something had woke up in him, jerking awake in fury and Claude was s man who would sit here and lie and say that a man couldn't possibly win his heart but the way his was racing in his chest suddenly made him feel many, many things. 

“Do you…happen to come here often?” A smooth and charming voice suddenly rings out over the sea of others and something tells Claude he shouldn't and yet… he decides to peak back over the length and as he thought, the man was now speaking. He looks at the woman with a fond smile, reaching out a hand to her and she giggles softly as she does so, humming as he seems to raise her hand to his lips and lightly brush his soft lips over her knuckles. “I'll admit that I haven't seen you around here much.” He continues and she hums. 

“What's your name pretty? I must know it so I never forget.” He continues as she smiles.

“Y/n. You can just call me y/n.” She answers him and her voice is so soft, so smooth and Claude finds himself leaning in to hear more of it as if he couldn't get enough. The man makes a noise of acknowledgement while Claude personally saves such into in his head and as the man moves to sit beside her, his hip pressing against her own, he finally responds with his own name. 

“You may call me Douma-Sama. Everyone calls me it.” Douma chuckles but something about it sends a shiver running up Claude's spine when he hears it as if the man's name was a curse all on its own. Not only that but… their eyes connected again, his and Douma 's as the other demon looks from the wan to him from the corner of his eyes. 

Douma-Sama. 

It was an interesting name, Claude could give him that but something about the way the man had said it, practically purring it out but each syllable and everything was enough to make Claude's cheeks feel…warm. 

Claude reaches a hand up to inspect his face and soon comes to the realization that he was lightly blushing. His cheeks a light pink and he's spooked into silence, even when he and Sebastian battled as much as they did in his previous life never had Claude allowed himself to blush this easily with the man even when that's what Sebastian clearly wanted out of him. He had always waited until he could get alone where he could be stuck with his thoughts all of his own for as long as needed, and maybe he had many, many fantasies and ones he tended to act up on and wasn't exactly sure what it was but just as Sebastian had, this demon… Douma-Sama, had managed to piqued Claude's interest. 

-

TBC~

- A

[gogopierogi]

The Thaemine raid after story was released on the Korean servers on 10/25. I'm not going to summarize the entire story, but below is a translation of the story cutscenes.

Spoilers below the cut!

The first cutscenes opens with a demonic clown music box spinning and playing a tune atop a cliff overlooking the armies of mortals and demons amassing in Boreas Domain.  Kharmine saunters up to it. 

Kharmine: It’s a sad sight, isn’t it? A being without self, wandering without an identity. 

The clown dolls responds.

Clown Doll: You speak of others. 

Kharmine: It’s different for me. I at least have a very good idea of who I am. 

The clown doll stops turning and an enraged Kakul-Saydon emerges. 

Saydon: A half-hearted, powerless subject, blah, blah, blah…shut up!

Kharmine: You’re the one ranting and raving without knowing the subject, aren’t you, Kakul-Saydon? No…you’re a traitor who will remain in the shadows until the end. 

Saydon: Traitor?! 

Kakul-Saydon goes nuts and proceeds to spin around before attacking Kharmine. 

Saydon: You think I let you live? Huh? Huh? You’re just a shell. A shell that means nothing! A shell that doesn’t exist! Shell! Place! Energy!

Kharmine: A shell…

Kakul-Saydon backs off and lets Kharmine speak. 

 Kharmine: In the beginning, everything was chaos. All of it was mine. If it weren’t for Regulus's hypocrisy... Maybe Antares was right. 

Saydon: Yours? Yours? No, no, no. It was mine! Just wait and see, if my plan goes my way…!

Kharmine: Hasn’t your grand plan already gone awry once? 

Saydon: Cheeky…!

Saydon stomps towards Kharmine, apparently about to attack again, when Kakul speaks up. 

Kakul: It’s not time yet. 

Kharmine: You even know how to assess the situation…the power of time is amazing. If he even remembers me it’s going to be bad. 

Saydon: In any case, it won’t work out the way Regulus wants. 

Kharmine: The witch’s prophecy is out of our hands, Lauriel’s twisted fate is out of our hands, and there will be a great war, as great as the first one we fought…just watch. 

The cutscene ends with Kharmine and Kakul-Saydon watching the demons and morals fight as darkness starts to rain from the sky. 

The second cutscene takes place on Petrania, in the same canyon where Thaemine entered Kazeros’s service so many years ago. Brelshaza approaches Kazaros, who appears as a cloud of darkness. 

Brelshaza: The Red Moon Ritual was completed by Baratron and the dimensions have begun to wrap. Chaos and order, light and darkness, once parallel…a single world, a path that never began…it is being realized at your will, Lord Kazeros. 

Kazeros: Thaemine…long ago, I gave him the power of darkness when all he had left was his instincts. It was an unparalleled blessing, but also a curse of lasting oblivion. 

Brelshaza: Since his defeat by Kazeros, he has been in a dream that will never be broken. All that remains to him now is  instinct. He will never know what he must seek. 

Kazeros: The dimensional rift will finally allow my soul to enter Arkasia. 

Brelshaza: Kazeros, then…

Kazeros: No more prophecies. 

Brelshaza removes her horn crown and discards it on the ground. 

Brelshaza: The prophecy is complete…I will prepare for the end of days, Kazeros.

The final cutscene features Thaemine shortly after we last saw him, having broken free of his paralysis. He’s not happy. He swings around his sword, destroying rock formations. His breathing becomes labored, he clutches his head, and for a moment he goes completely still as his blue light fades. Suddenly dark energy erupts from him.

Thaemine: Kharmine.

He then walks off to parts unknown.

Here's a video of the entire story and the accompanying cutscenes:

[therooftopsofketterdam]

plotted starter for @esotericdescent

Connections - The promise of coming back Inej sighed as she stood above the deck, one foot hooked into the web of robes connecting the sails. The dark, familiar rooftops of Ketterdam seemed to be coming closer faster and ever faster. Her throat was dry, no amount of water could sooth it nor the fluttering inside her chest. She remembered the last time she watched these buildings only then they were fading away in the morning mists and coal smoke. Now they were set aglow by the light of the late afternoon. It almost didn't seem real. "I'm leaving." Inej still remembered the look in his dark eyes, the color of bitter coffee as always when he heard something he didn't want to. Maybe it had been the tone of her voice but she remembered him looking up at her, the boy she had shared so many moments with open and vulnerable in a way Inej still wasn't used to, then the warmth vanished as he closed himself off. The words had felt hollow in her chest. They both knew it was a indeffinite goodbye. She wasn't giving up on him, but she also couldn't stay, she didn't want to stay. The shadow that crept over her shoulder, every time she walked past that horrible building on West Stave...

It was Specht who called her back to reality and for a moment Inej wondered if her letter had beat her here, if Kaz would be waiting for her at the harbour? But what would she say? Nothing felt like it was big enough to express what she had given up... what she had gained. Inej straightened. Her hand rested on the knife handle of Sankt Petyr. The bone familiar and warm against her palm. The berth still lay empty in fifth harbour. Somehow it was strange seeing it in all it's splendor. Boats arriving and departing, wares being loaded and unloaded. Kaz could have easily used this spot to give more space for buisness and trade and yet the only ship ever landing here was 'The Wraith'. Inej gave Specht a nod. He knew what to do, then she swung herself off of the deck and seemingly disappeared into the shadows unnoticed by any bystander. It's been nearly one and a half years since Inej had left Ketterdam last and yet a shiver still ran down her spine as she joined the bustling on East Stave. She walked over the Zentsbridge, caught a glimpse of the Church of Barter. For a few heartbeats her thoughts belonged to Wylan and Jesper. She would like to go and see them straight away. Answering their questions and withstanding their accusations would be easier then facing Kaz. But her reason for returning took precident over her friends, still she looked forward to seeing them again.

Inej turned left instead of right, delving deeper into the Barrel but choosing the way over the rooftops rather then joining the crowd below. She didn't want any prying eyes on her, no matter if they may be friendly or not. Here, Inej paused for a second, taking a deep breath. This was the Ketterdam she loved. With it's steep, water slick roofs and planks connecting them. If the Barrel belonged to Kaz then this had been her Kingdom and her safe space... and her prison. For a second she could feel the shadows crawling around her feet as old sensations came rushing back to her, but not all of them bad, not anymore. Silent as a ghost the Wraith crossed deadly heights with ease, gravity bowing to her will as she leaped and twirled and climbed towards the crooked building that used to be filled with people she loved. Her heart gave a painful squeeze in her chest, then started double timing. Her palms prickled and felt uncomfortably warm as the familiar window appeared in her preiphery vision. It was late afternoon, just after five bells. She didn't expect Kaz to be there, but Inej would wait. There were seeds and breadcrumbs in her pockets in case the crows had forgotten her.

Slender finger pressed against the cool glass of Kaz' window the way she had done a million times before. It was still unlocked. Inej slipped inside, without ever making a sound, lowering herself onto the cushioned window sill, claiming it as her spot again. To her suprise, he was home, sitting behind his desk. As if nothing had changed and no time passed at all. Inej was suddenly hyper aware of her surroundings, looking at everything but him, still as she sat, her voice was secure as always. "You still haven't taken Haskell's apartments?" She asked. The scentence seemed feeble at best, but her head was clouded in fog just like the city. It was the first thing coming to her mind, then the second. "Kaz." and after, silence.

[sincerelyhecate]

you (hit me with a broom and) set my heart ablaze

Title: you (hit me with a broom and) set my heart ablaze (chapter 8)

Pairing: Jason Grace/Percy Jackson

Length: 11.5k words

You can also read this on AO3.

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Though he belonged amongst the living, Nico had always exuded a ghostly aura that did little to set him apart from the rest of the spectral inhabitants of the castle. It gave him a slight advantage of being stealthier than most students; a quirk that he’d utilise to tail after rulebreakers during his patrol rounds before catching them in the act, and also to jump Percy just for the fun of it.

One evening, just as Percy was about to descend down the stairs leading to the dungeons, he was ambushed by the boy, not unlike how a ghost would scare off its unlucky victim. As if he was materialising from the shadows themselves, Nico suddenly popped out of thin air to corner Percy into the wall, nearly scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Ahhh!” he screeched a little too unmanly for his liking, clutching his heart that had almost escaped his chest in fright. In his defence, his guard was down by quite a bit after one exceptionally tiring session of Quidditch practice; only the thoughts of his fluffy four-poster and a good night's sleep had kept his legs walking. “Nico! Would it be so bad to say hello first? Maybe a little ‘How are you’ on the side?”

Nico wasted no time to get to his point. “Let Hufflepuff win this upcoming match.”

“…Oh?” A grin sneaked its way onto Percy’s face. “Didn’t know you care this much about Quidditch. But isn’t this a bit too…unprofessional? What happened to sportsmanship, mate?”

“It’s gonna be Hazel’s first official match against you. Seeker vs Seeker. We barely won against Ravenclaw last time. Don’t you think you should go easy on her?”

Ah. So this was Nico on Brother Bear’s mode. A side of him that would surface only once in a blue moon amidst his usual sharp-edged exterior, and one Percy was really fond of because it’s a testament of how gooey Nico was on the inside.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite appreciate the idea that he had to deliberately give Hazel the upper hand when she was already a capable Seeker on her own. It would’ve been an insult to both of their prowesses as respectable Quidditch players. And, if you’d ever think of holding yourself back in a match, you’d sooner find yourself better off not playing at all, because you’d only drag the rest of your teammates down.

He remembered having the time of his life practising together with Hazel when they met over the summer—on a special invitation to their luxurious mansion from Hades himself, alongside good ol’ Frank—and was blown away by how good she was despite being a late bloomer in flying. 

Her case was an almost perfect reflection of his own, when he thought about it. Back then, he just couldn’t help but see himself in her when she shakily rode the latest Firebolt model with unshakable will, and was thus determined to help her ease into the role of the great Seeker she’s destined to be. To be proud was an understatement when he found out she made it to the Hufflepuff’s team.

“I don’t think so, mate.”

Shivers ran down his spine when Nico narrowed his eyes in a razor-sharp stare. “I thought you loved her like your own sister?”

“Without a doubt! But I don’t think she’d appreciate it if you do this, even if it’s for her sake. In fact, she’d think that you’re just undermining her abilities, and would probably kick your arse the next time she sees you.”

“I am not undermining her. I just so happen to intimately know all about you Slytherin snakes’ cheating tendencies and general buffoonery when playing. I’ve seen how especially barbaric your Beaters are, the bats should’ve been confiscated from their possessions by now if the school has any common sense. Hence, I need to make sure to drill into your thick skulls to play nicely around her, or else someone would end up in the hospital wing—and it’s not gonna be her.”

“Merlin, Nico. You can be so dramatic sometimes. Every Quidditch player has to have their own run-in with a Bludger at least once, you know? It’s practically a rite of passage for us.”

“You know what’s another rite of passage? A Stinging Jinx to your arse right this instant.”

Before Nico’s threat could come to fruition, Percy’s arse was saved by Nakamura passing by. The temperature in the corridor dropped by several degrees as hostility unwittingly leaked out of himself at the sight of the Captain. While Jason, bless his golden heart, had forgiven the bloke long ago, Percy found it easier to hold a grudge instead.

Not one to poke the bee’s nest unprovoked, Nakamura trod away without as much of a glance at them.

“Still petty, I see,” Nico said, throwing a knowing smirk at him once the prat was out of their sight. Percy shrugged in reply, finding no fault in his statement.

“You know how I am, Neeks. I’m nothing if not running on pettiness.”

“And cringe,” Nico added, nodding solemnly in agreement. “How do you even handle rooming with him?”

“Oh, that’s easy. We just pretend the other doesn’t exist.”

“And somehow I’m the dramatic one.”

“The most dramatic of them all,” Percy confirmed brightly, reaching out a hand to ruffle those fluffy black curls. With perfected movement, Nico’s hand slapped his own away before he could even touch a strand. 

Unfazed, he continued, “I like how protective you could be sometimes, but don’t worry too much, okay? Hazel’s a tough lass. And really, how does that add up to your demand of letting Hufflepuff win in the first place? You could’ve just told me to keep on my toes around her.”

“Eh, it’s worth a try,” Nico waved a dismissive hand. “You know how thorough I am in everything I do.”

“And somehow I’m the one who got Sorted into Slytherin.”

“It fits you,” Nico shrugged. “You’re the snakiest of them all, Jackson. Dunno what Jason sees in you at all.”

“He sees the one and only man for him, thank you very much. Now run along, you sly bugger. I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

Like the bugger he truly was, Nico aimed a kick at his shin before disappearing into the shadows once more.

Two days before the fated Slytherin vs Hufflepuff match, Percy had a slight premonition that something was about to happen. Something decidedly eerie, but not sinister enough to keep him on his toes and anticipate anything disastrous. Shaking off the slight chill he felt on his skin, he continued going on his merry way in search of his boyfriend with the usual paper bag in hand.

After about twenty minutes of scouring the castle, he spotted Jason walking alone in a courtyard right outside the east wing. The usually hardened lines of his figure were relaxed somewhat, translating themselves into something soft and fluffy to mirror his languid pace and loosened posture. He looked like he's in desperate need of a hug (or maybe it's just Percy who did), and Percy knew exactly how to fix that.

“Ah—Percy?” Jason exclaimed, the epitome of adorableness as his voice took an excited lilt when he registered Percy’s presence from the surprise back hug.

“Your one and only,” Percy confirmed, aware of how sickly sweet his own voice was. This romance business was downright stupid, if it wasn’t so damn addicting. “Where are you off to?”

“Just on my way back to the Tower.” Jason noticed the bag in his hand. As if he couldn’t get any cuter, his smile widened and his blue eyes twinkled in child-like exuberance. Sally’s homemade cookies just had that magical effect on anyone. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It is, with one extra thing.” Raising the bag to let Jason have a better look, Percy tried to tamper the nervousness bubbling in his guts. “I’d like you to wear it to my next match.”

“Is that…? Oh, Percy.” Jason was now bouncing on the balls of his feet, face glowing with excitement. Just like a golden retriever, both in temperament and preciousness. Retrieving the item from the bag, he inspected it carefully before surmising, “I think it’s going to look a little tight on me.”

It’s Percy’s spare Quidditch jersey, with the words ‘JACKSON 7’ printed in silver on the green fabric of the back. Since they’ve made it a (very late) tradition to attend each other’s match sporting the other’s team colours, Percy thought it’d be nice to take things a step further. 

A small part of him had anticipated Jason’s rejection over the idea. After all, their Houses had been bitter rivals ever since the falling out of their founders. Therefore, it would’ve been completely understandable if Jason had shown any sign of reluctance. Not because it’s Slytherin in particular, but because of the repercussions that were soon to follow from the other Gryffindors.

Because he’s the best boyfriend ever, Jason looked totally onboard. Just like Percy had hoped. Giddiness filled him from head to toe; he finally had the chance to see Jason in his clothes for the first time ever. The thought sent a deluge of warmth and happiness crashing in waves all over his body, and despite how dramatic this would sound, he really hoped he’d make it out alive when Jason would wear it on the day of the match.

“So, er…w-would you wear it, then?” he asked, cursing himself inwardly for stuttering.

“I’d love to, Percy,” Jason replied with a pleased sigh. 

Then, with no regard to Percy’s poor heart, he bundled the jersey in his hands before burying his face in it, as if to heave in Percy’s lingering scent. He seemed to realise what he did a little too late when his eyes widened in shock over his own action, immediately removing the article of clothing off his nose just in time to see Percy’s flabbergasted face. 

As they stared at each other with equally surprised faces, Percy thought, ah, it’s already so hopeless now.

There’s so sugar-coating it: he was now so pathetically in love, he’s beyond saving. In fact, he didn’t want to be saved. Jason was out to get him, hitting him at his weakest spot in rapid succession with his precious existence, and Percy’s masochistic arse wanted him to do it again and again until his own heart was a battered thing lying on the ground in pure unadulterated bliss.

Before Jason could stammer out an unnecessary excuse, Percy gathered his boyfriend in a frantic hug and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. “Merlin, you’re so fucking adorable, Jason. One of these days, you’re going to be the absolute death of me. Merlin.”

“I’d rather you not die at all,” Jason muttered, his face still burning red from embarrassment. “How embarrassing! Acting like an absolute troll, sniffing your clothes like that. I’m really sorry—”

Percy shut him up with another kiss, a tad deeper this time. Jason hummed in surprised delight against his lips. When their mouths broke apart, his boyfriend was already smiling again. 

“I’ve got no clue why you feel the need to feel sorry, Jason. I’m happy you like it that much,” he said easily, wrapping his arms around Jason’s waist and swaying both of them around joyously to demonstrate his point. “Feels like there’s no other choice but to win the game now.”

Jason, sweet lovely Jason, went along with the impromptu little dance, and Percy relished the deep rumble of his chest as he chuckled deeply. “I’ll be counting on you for that, darling. I’ll be cheering you on as loud as I can.”

Darling.

The pet name Jason had exclusively claimed for him filled his heart with so much love, he’s afraid he’d physically float away into the endless sky with the joy it sparked. It was so tender in the way Jason had said it; a perfect expression of his affections in a manner only his lovely lips and wonderful tongue could deliver. It was music to Percy’s ears. 

Percy couldn’t care less that he’s sounding a bit overconfident then. He’d do anything to make sure that smile stayed in place. “I promise I’ll make you proud, baby. We’ve seen the way Hufflepuff played; I’m feeling very optimistic.”

Though it might’ve just been his imagination, he thought he’d seen Jason hesitate, just for a fraction of a millisecond. As Jason blinked owlishly at his pompous declaration, there was a minute twitch to his elegant brows that suggested an impending furrow, but it was gone before Percy knew it. And before he could think too hard on it, Jason distracted him with another sweet peck to the lips.

In the end, Percy failed to make good of his promise.

Which was hilarious, because until the commentator had announced that the match was over, he had thought he was unstoppable. 

On Jason’s side of the bargain, he’d fulfilled his promise to wear Percy’s jersey to the match, and had even stopped by the Slytherin’s changing room for a good luck kiss. At the sight, Percy had nearly combusted on the spot. Jason in his clothes, sporting his name on the back, announcing to anyone who’d care to notice that he belonged to Percy…let’s just say only the impending match had stopped Percy from dragging him away for a grand time of snogging.

In the end, it was all for naught. His team had lost the match against Hufflepuff. Spectacularly. 

He was convinced that it had all been his fault, but his ego demanded that he keep his head straight and out of the gutter. Hell would freeze over before he showed any signs of weakness in front of Nakamura of all people. The Captain who was, thankfully, still adamant with his cold war campaign against him, thus was smart enough to spare him the usual scathing criticism.

What had actually gone wrong? Percy wracked his brain for the answer but came up empty.

Was it the weather? It was sufficiently pleasant; specks of clouds dotted the blue sky to provide enough shade while still allowing near-perfect visibility. The wind was ideal for flying, blowing all over the pitch in the form of a cool and gentle breeze. 

Was it his performance? He was sure he was in top form; there had been no prominent sign of discomfort or fatigue from practising too hard at the start of the game. Even now, his body was still buzzing in adrenaline, not feeling any physical strain so much as his mental one. 

Was it their performance as a team? Objectively, Slytherin had boasted the superior team that day; they’d been ahead in points compared to Hufflepuff during the entirety of the match. They could’ve easily won in terms of Quaffle scoring alone. 

And, even with the knowledge that Jason was wearing his jersey, he hadn’t looked hard enough in the spectators’ stands for it to be a distraction. In fact, he’d been the most focused for this match.

There was only one anomaly that turned the tides of the game in favour of their opponents: the Snitch completely disappearing on Percy all throughout the game and, as if it had a mind of its own, presented itself to Hazel like it was a prized offering and she was a queen.

His mind was a whirlwind as he tried to take stock of the reality, distracting him enough from the gloomy atmosphere descending upon the rest of his teammates. His heart felt mostly empty, like any sort of emotion he should’ve been feeling was sucked out and into the stifling air. 

The Hufflepuffs, bless their considerate souls, were moderately celebrating on the sidelines far away from them, hugging and jumping and patting each others’ backs from the euphoria of their victory.

“Percy! Good game,” Hazel’s voice greeted him, and he belatedly registered her presence right in front of him. From her genial smile, he could tell that she was holding back from getting too celebratory in case she’d hurt his feelings, which was utterly ridiculous of an idea. As the victor, she had every right to.

He hugged her on auto-pilot, ignoring the awful sensation of his teammates’ bitter scowls. She hugged back just as fiercely, equally unbothered by the rest of the world. Gulping down the knot stuck in his too-tight throat, he managed to muster a smile he hoped was genuine enough. He didn’t want to make it look like he’s not happy for her, because he ultimately was. It’s just that the pang of losing was still so fresh. “You did fabulous, Hazel! I’m proud of you. Congratulations.”

“I can’t believe it!” she finally gushed, taking the cue to really express herself after Percy’s tacit approval. What an angel. “I’ve already won two times in a row for my very first season! Looks like your training regiment really paid off.”

That, plus something entirely different. Frustratingly, he still couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “It really did! I can’t wait to see what’s in store for you. Who knows, maybe you’ll get to hold the Cup for your very first season?”

She tilted her head, unconvinced. “That remains to be seen. You’re still better than me by a long shot—”

“Hazel—”

“—and I know you’ll compensate for today's loss with a glorious victory against Ravenclaw, alright?” Her smaller hands sought his own to grip them in reassurance. 

He couldn’t answer in affirmative, because didn’t he just lose a game he was so confident he’d win? Didn’t he just unfairly underestimate her?

“You were amazing just now, Percy,” Hazel pressed on. “I spent most of the time just watching you soaring all over the pitch instead of Seeking because you’re so godly on your broomstick. So really, if I wasn’t so lucky, you would’ve won by a landslide.”

“Don’t say that. You won fair and square, and you should be proud of it.” From the corner of his peripheral vision, a familiar precious face came into view. “Oh, look, Jason’s here. You go and celebrate with your team now.”

“Okay, lover boy. See you around!” With another quick hug to him and a friendly nod to Jason, she hurried off towards the gathering Hufflepuffs who were now chanting her name with vigour, her brown-golden curls bouncing along with her happy steps.

Jason’s strong arms were open and waiting as Percy crashed into his embrace. They enveloped him so lovingly, readily providing a sanctuary he could call his own. Between his earlier bravado, the misplaced confidence that their victory was a guarantee, and even making his boyfriend wear his own jersey when he'd lost in the end, it was like a nail to the coffin enclosing his already fraying self-composure. 

For the first time that evening, his emotions got the best of him. Hot tears began to pool in his eyes despite his personal reservations against crying. He buried his face in Jason’s neck as if to hide from the rest of the world, trying to focus on that wonderful scent just to calm himself down, to steer his mind away from the bitter reality. 

It helped, but barely just. He still couldn’t stop the sob tearing out of his throat. “J-Jason, I lost…”

“Hm. But you did your best, Percy, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it? The odds were just too stacked against you.”

They were? 

“I don’t care, hick, about the odds,” he blubbered, hating every second of him struggling to get his words out. “I only care about making you proud, hick, and I f-failed!”

“What? Darling, I’d still be proud of you no matter what.” Jason’s long fingers carded through his hair in gentle repetitive motions. It did wonders to soothe his awful mood. “And it’s only your second match. Officially," he belatedly added, because it's technically Percy's third. "There’s still one more to go until we can secure the Cup.”

Percy buried his face further in reply, though the boulder crushing down on his chest had already begun to chip away as he took in Jason’s kind reassurance. There’s something beautiful about Jason addressing both of them together when he talked about attaining the honour of winning the season. Now that their own match against each other was a thing of the past, it felt like his victory had very much become Jason’s and vice versa, and it was a very heartening idea to immerse himself in.

…Not to mention his losses would also become Jason’s, but he’d rather do anything else than to dwell on that right now.

“Take a walk with me?” Jason asked him, and he removed his face from Jason to nod meekly, inwardly cringing at the tear stains on Jason’s shoulder. Unbothered, Jason wiped at his tear-streaked cheeks with the hem of his sleeve. His kind smile was a lantern in a sea of fog; a guiding light, as he led Percy out and away from the pitch by hand.

***

It turned out that wearing Percy’s jersey to the match was the most ingenious idea ever. 

Despite smelling and feeling clean, it still retained Percy’s signature scent that only grew prominent the moment Jason put it on. He’d never felt so close to Percy while wearing it. It felt very much like Percy was giving him a hug all the time, as if the fabric was emulating his warm kisses and gentle touches against his skin. It went unsaid that Jason loved it very much, almost as much as he adored being held in Percy’s arms, to the point that he would, without even thinking, raise the neckline to his nose to take the occasional whiff, which would then send pleasant tingles travelling down his back.

Thanks to Piper and Leo flanking him in their seats in one of the Slytherin stands, he wasn’t too bothered by the blatant stares from the rest of the spectators, who were understandably perplexed by his sudden appearance amongst their ranks like a wild Bludger. In fact, he felt pride welling up in his chest instead. Just by donning the jersey bearing his boyfriend’s name had inspired an unfettered kind of vigour within him to cheer as loud as he could for Percy, not at all caring to mind his volume when the boy in question would perform a thrilling move like the aerial showman he was, holding everyone’s hearts captive all the while.

In the end, it was quite the pity that Percy had lost, but Jason was determined not to add to the damper on the already sullen mood. He found himself treading in new territory when the loss had actually driven Percy to tears; a side of his boyfriend he’d never seen nor expected. While it had caught him off-guard for a split second, he took it as an opportunity to be the one to lend his shoulder this time, happy he could provide the same pillar of support Percy had always offered him so readily.

They were strolling down the pathway near the Whomping Willow when Percy broke the heavy silence with a sigh. “Sorry you had to see me cry over something as stupid as losing.”

Jason halted in his tracks to pull Percy into another warm hug. It turned out Percy really needed that; he retreated into Jason’s embrace like it was the most natural thing to do, tucking his face into the crook of Jason’s neck without a second thought. Jason tightened his hold as he felt a forlorn sigh blowing against his jugular. 

“How is it stupid to cry over losing a match?” Jason said softly. “That’s a big thing for us Quidditch players. You’d seen me cry over stupider things and told me not to feel ashamed about it. Take your own advice and don’t be so hard on yourself, alright?”

“You were crying over me, which could've been anything but stupid,” Percy countered petulantly, though the heat in his voice was doused by the glumness of his tone. He leaned back to peer at Jason, the white of his eyes still rimmed red. “At least it made me feel like I’m special to you.”

“I’d rather not have to shed tears just to tell you how much you mean to me,” Jason huffed, feeling his cheeks flush. With his thumb, he traced over the drying streaks on Percy’s cheek fondly. “And I’d also rather not see you cry because you’re afraid of disappointing me. You could never, darling. Especially when you’ve already done your best.”

His lips met Percy’s nose in a quick kiss. It instantly prompted a small smile to bloom in Percy’s face. So cute. It’s rather gratifying to learn how foolproof the gesture had proven to be every time he noticed Percy needed a pick-me-up. One peck on the nose in exchange for one happy boyfriend.

Now leading him by the hand, Percy veered off the pathway and plopped down dramatically onto his bum on the grass, pulling Jason down with him. “I can’t fight you on that. Merlin knows how hard I was looking for that accursed winged bollock. Maybe that’s why it stings a lot more, to see all my efforts paid off for nothing in the end.”

“Well, not to make light of your predicament in any way, but after watching two Hufflepuff matches now, I honestly think it’d take more than just effort to beat Hazel Levesque in Seeking."

All of a sudden, there was something turbulent brewing underneath Percy’s quiet voice. “…You’re not implying Hazel was cheating, are you?”

Jason felt his heart lurching at the accusation. “No! Merlin, not at all.” Where did that come from? “I don’t even think she knows about this, nor does she have a hand in it. Do you want to listen to my crazy theory about this?”

This time, Percy’s tone came out a little teasing. Thank Merlin. “You’re sitting in the stands concocting theories while I was out there fighting for my life?”

“I was multitasking! Which mainly consisted of cheering for you at the top of my lungs and analysing Hufflepuff’s gameplay on the side. I assure you the theory-concocting came afterwards.”

Much to his delight, Percy leaned his head on his shoulder and said, “Let’s hear it, then.”

***

“Alright. Ever noticed how the Snitch behaved every time Hazel’s playing? I voiced my thoughts about this once, back during the Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff match. It acted very peculiar back then, but I ultimately brushed it off as coincidence.”

“Didn’t you say it’d flown near her more often than not?”

“Yep. Not trying to diminish her skills in any way—she has more potential than any other rookie I’ve seen thus far—but it’s a little funny to see her looking for the Snitch in places that didn’t actually matter when the ball was near her all the time.”

“Wait,” Percy said, sceptical. “There’s no way she couldn’t have seen the Snitch then.”

“She could’ve, if she hadn’t been so busy tailing after you to find the Snitch. Maybe her strategy was to make you do the heavy lifting before snatching the thing from under your nose.”

Oh, Merlin. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book, and a strategy Percy had employed for quite a few times in his career. He didn’t know whether to feel proud or amused at how she’d followed his suggestions to a T. It could’ve worked if things had gone according to her plan; he was using an older version of the Nimbus, whilst Hades’ bottomless wealth had provided her with the latest Firebolt model. In terms of speed, she had the slightest bit of edge—not counting other factors like flying skills and friction.

“Maybe you’d been flying too far away,” Jason continued, his lips warm against Percy’s temple, “that you couldn’t hear me shouting at you to look her way even once. If only you’d seen the Snitch fluttering nearby before she did, we could’ve probably won against Hufflepuff.”

Ouch. Way to rub the salt into the wound there. “Okay, but that's just your observation. When does your theory come into play?”

“My theory is…” Jason paused slightly, either due to hesitation or for dramatic effect, “…she’s a Snitch magnet.”

“A Snitch magnet,” Percy repeated, feeling a little incredulous, trying to wrap his brain around the idea. Recalling back to Hufflepuff’s first match of the season, he pondered, “The Snitch had always flown a little too closely to her in the previous match. Was it acting similarly today?”

“It was, almost illogically so. It stayed within a ten-metre radius from her most of the time, though with all the stuff happening around the pitch—did you see how Nakamura flew into Gardner in a full-body slam? Nasty move, that was—uh, it would’ve been easy to miss.”

“…Right.” For some inexplicable reason, Percy’s chest felt lighter with the newfound knowledge. The nasty feeling of being the worst Seeker in the world began to dissipate. He could somehow identify it being the sheer relief of knowing that he, indeed, didn’t disappoint Jason in the way he’d thought, and belatedly realised that he’d played the match solely for Jason’s validation the entire time.

“Well, it still sucked that I couldn’t win for you, but at least we’d know how to handle Hazel next time,” Percy sniffed. He raised his head from Jason’s shoulder to admire that lovely side-profile. “Not trying to pressure you or anything, but please win your next match for me.”

“Not trying to make empty promises either, but I’d do my very best for you, darling. Always.”

Despite everything that happened, he found it so effortless to believe in Jason. Perhaps it’s because Jason was Quidditch reincarnated; one of the best players to ever grace the Cup’s illustrious history. Perhaps it’s also because Jason had never let him down. No matter the reason, Percy could somehow already taste the sweetness of Jason’s victory in his tongue.

They sat there in silence for a while longer, encased in their private little world, content to let everything bitter and sad embroiled within to seep out little by little, until only the things that mattered remained.

***

Please don’t ask me to give it back. 

The unsaid words rushed through Jason’s head in a desperate mantra.

Please don’t ask me to give it back. Please don’t ask me to give it back. Please. Don’t. Ask. Me. To. Give. It. Back.

“Thanks for wearing my jersey today, Jason,” Percy said as soon as they reached the Entrance Hall, his tone no longer gloomy. It looked like their brief walk together worked like a charm, much to Jason’s relief. “You can give it back after dinner.”

“Please don’t ask me to give it back,” Jason blurted, before his brain could catch up on his words. “Ah! I-I mean, please allow me to keep it, er, at least until I clean it for you! It’s very bad manners if I don’t.”

Percy blinked owlishly at him, before an ever-so-familiar grin bloomed on his face. The one so charmingly mischievous, it’d always keep Jason on his toes. One of his eyebrows rose in mild amusement; the sign of an impending teasing. “You barely wore it for a few hours, though?”

Quick, brain! Formulate another convincing counterargument!  

“You didn’t notice how sweltering it was today?” It wasn’t, and Percy’s grin transformed to a full-blown smirk at his poor attempt at an excuse. “I was sweating in the stands like I was in a sauna. It’d be so gross if I just returned it to you as is.”

Always one with no sense of subtlety, Percy leaned in and took a deep whiff to his neck without caring who might see. Jason stiffened despite himself. They’re in a fairly crowded hallway, for Merlin’s sake, and this seemed to push it a little bit. 

While their relationship had long become common knowledge, he still hadn’t sufficiently warmed up to the idea of prominently displaying their shared affection for the whole school to see. His boyfriend didn’t seem to get the memo—not that he’d ever overstepped any unsaid boundaries Jason had set, thankfully.

“You smell great as always,” Percy noted nonchalantly, his nose brushing against Jason’s skin in a ghost of a touch, causing the hairs at the back of Jason’s neck to stand on end. Then, without as much of a warning, he leaned in to coyly whisper in Jason’s ear, “And you know how much I love your scent, baby. But it’s fine, really. Keep it for as long as you’d like. I want it to smell just like you when I get it back. In the meantime, you can continue enjoying mine.”

Ending his words with a casual nip to his earlobe, Percy sauntered away with a wink, leaving Jason behind a blushing, stuttering mess. 

Was he really that transparent? Merlin, how unsightly! The ground was welcomed to swallow him up if it very much liked to. 

He walked towards his table with his arms around himself, still enjoying the snug feeling of the fabric hugging his body tight. Oh well, no use sweating over it now. As long as he could keep something of Percy with him just for a while longer, he’s content with embarrassing himself every now and then. 

Even now, as he sat down for dinner, his mind was already thinking of going to bed while holding the jersey, letting Percy’s scent lull him to sleep. Somehow, he knew it would take him to dreams of trips to the sea.

As Jason was shovelling breakfast down his throat a few days after the match, another unfamiliar Gryffindor joined him at the table. His brain still running over his timetable to plan for the day, he didn’t really pay attention to the person beside him until Percy’s voice greeted him with a cheerful, “G’morning, baby.”

“Percy? Good—” Jason started with surprise at the sight of his boyfriend sitting next to him. With his school robes in Gryffindor colours, no less. “…morning? What’s with your uniform today?”

Percy glanced down in confusion. “What’s wrong with it?”

“…the colours are a little off, I think?” Jason glanced at the date on his wristwatch. It wasn’t April Fool’s, either. “Shouldn’t it be in, say, the usual green and silver?”

Percy let out a lighthearted chuckle as if he’d just realised what Jason had meant. “I have no idea what you’re on about, you precious dork. I’ve always been in Gryffindor.”

What?

Like he hadn’t just been lying through his teeth, Percy bit into a piece of fried bread before asking through a mouthful, “What’s our first lesson today?”

“I have Herbology," Jason replied. "Dunno about you, though.”

Percy hummed noncommittally, not at all concerned by the blatant confusion in Jason’s expression at his peculiar behaviour that early in the morning. He still paid no mind to Jason’s consternation afterwards, even when they had finished their breakfast together and he was now following Jason to the greenhouses like it was routine for him.

“I wonder what Longbottom has in store for us today! I’ve always wanted to try handling a Venomous Tentacula without my gloves on.”

“That is a one-way trip to the Underworld, darling,” Jason provided, extremely endeared and mildly infuriated. “What class do you have next?”

“Herbology, silly.”

“Nobody ever told me Professor Longbottom can split himself in two now. Seriously, Percy. What’s your next class?”

“Jason, what’s going on with you?” Piper piped up, catching up to them with lighthearted steps. Jason caught a glimpse of Percy exchanging conspiratorial looks with her, one that dissipated so quickly it might as well have been his imagination. “We have Herbology with Hufflepuff, remember?”

“I do? But what’s Percy doing here?”

“Merlin, did a brick land on your head or something? He’s our classmate,” Piper lied with indescribable ease, narrowing her pretty kaleidoscopic eyes at him like he was truly an idiot. On his other side, Percy nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm, eyebrows raised as if Jason was a puzzle too complicated to solve—not as great an actor as Piper was, but still convincing enough it would’ve fooled anyone else. 

“Yeah, how could you forget that?” he grumbled, getting whiny at the end of his sentence to compliment the pretty pout on his lips. Jason would’ve been inclined to kiss him if he wasn’t feeling so unamused by their antics. “Do you not want your own boyfriend around?”

“Oh, I’d love to have my boyfriend around. All the time if I could,” Jason assured him. “You know that.”

“Then what’s stopping you? You could have exactly that now, you know?”

“Hm,” Jason made a show of pondering seriously over Percy’s inane question. “It’s just that my boyfriend happens to be a seventh-year Slytherin who probably has his own timetable to adhere to, and I’d rather not see him running around brewing trouble this close to N.E.W.T.s.”

“B-But…” Percy sputtered, before his signature puppy eyes made their appearance on his handsome face, “I have a free period now…”

“You gave up too soon!” Piper groaned, miffed that their silly play pretend was so unceremoniously cut short.

“You wouldn’t understand, Pipes. Jason’s disappointed face is enough to make me jump off the window to off myself—Jason, I’m exaggerating,” Percy backtracked as soon as he saw Jason’s face, which couldn’t have been anything but aghast. 

As a respectable Prefect, he’d feel iffy about his boyfriend living up to his name as a resident troublemaker, sure. But at that point in their relationship, he figured that nothing Percy did could’ve ever warranted such a reaction out of him, that would in turn elicit such a reaction out of Percy. He’d already promised himself not to be overbearing and stiff as to restrict his boyfriend; not after that whole fiasco he’d caused from Percy announcing his retirement.

Also, jumping off windows? Really now. He’d follow Percy right after without a second thought. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I was just messing around! Since I have a free period now, I thought I’d use it to join your classes as a way to revise past syllabus—and totally spend more time with you while I’m at it—but I’ll just drop the idea if it’s too much trouble, alright? Baby?” Percy’s tone of voice was turning helplessly frantic by the second, as he mistook Jason’s prolonged silence as disappointment.

“…You’re having a free period, you say?”

“Yeah! And with how our time together in this school is getting shorter by the day, I thought I’d utilise every single second I could spare to the fullest with you,” Percy replied evenly, though there was a trembling edge in his voice that made Jason’s heart clench. “But if it’ll get you in trouble, I’ll just be on my way! No need to worry.”

“What are you talking about? You have Herbology, remember?” Jason found himself saying, despite his pounding heart. 

There’s no need to be so uptight, a voice in his head said. If he smiles at you like that—like you hang the stars in his sky, like you’re his dream come true—wouldn’t it be worth all the trouble? it added, and Jason couldn’t for the life of him find it in himself to disagree.

“That I do!” Percy agreed, his usual cheerfulness back in full force now that he’s getting Jason’s stamp of approval. Jason wondered if Percy knew he’s slowly becoming the catalyst to Jason’s rebellious streak that was sure to come. It felt pretty exciting, to be honest. To have someone you’d break the rules just for their happiness…Once a foreign concept to him, it was now so easily feasible when that someone happened to be Percy Jackson.

“Gays and their dramatics,” Piper said with a fond shake of her head. “At least I’ll have a new form of morning entertainment from now on. C'mon, classmates. We’re running late to the greenhouse.”

With an energetic bounce to his steps, Percy grabbed Jason’s hand in pure unadulterated joy and pulled him along as they tail Piper.

"Mr Jackson, I don't recall you being a sixth-year Gryffindor?" To his credit, Professor Longbottom hadn’t looked at all surprised at the sight of Percy sitting next to Jason in his class.

"I had a trip to the Headmistress' Office this morning, Professor, and the Hat was kind enough to re-Sort me," Percy answered in jest, smooth as butter.

It’s such a wonderful thing that the Herbology Professor was even-tempered to a fault. Always opting for a patient and civilised approach with his troublesome students, instead of lashing out at the first instance. No wonder everyone liked him. "Ah. Kind enough to have you repeat a year too, I suppose. Mr Grace, may I know why you're doing nothing to stop your boyfriend's antics?"

"Sorry, Professor, but he's absolutely incorrigible," Jason shrugged, flashing Professor Longbottom an apologetic smile. He couldn’t really say he’d tried his best to change Percy’s mind; a huge part of him just couldn’t help being lenient on his boyfriend.

"I understand,” the Professor nodded sagely, as if Jason’s explanation had made enough sense for him. With a simple wave of his wand, the colours of Percy’s uniform returned to their original shades of green and silver. “Pardon me, Mr Jackson, but I have no choice but to dock five points from Slytherin. Now if you can tell me two examples of potions you can make by using mistletoe, I might let you stay for the rest of the class."

"Mistletoe…if I have to guess, er, probably something related to…kissing?" 

Jason bit back an incredulous chortle at Percy’s answer. To his relief, the amused laughter of his classmates rippled across the greenhouse; entertained instead of perplexed. The answer, although far off the mark and very lame to boot, was so typically Percy that it’s endearing to hear instead. He furiously scribbled the correct ones on his palm to discreetly show him.

"That is quite far off the mark, Mr Jackson. One more try. C'mon, or you'll have to leave this class, even if it means Mr Grace would get lonely."

Jason felt his ears burn. To his right, Piper made a gagging noise.

"Got it, sir! Er…Forgetfulness Potion! And,” Merlin, subtlety was really not Percy’s strong suit, as he glanced at Jason’s palm visibly, “Antidote for…C-Connor Poisons."

"Common Poisons,” Professor Longbottom corrected him without skipping a beat. “Good enough, I suppose. You can stay. Thank you for doing your prior reading, Mr Grace." 

A war hero and a great teacher. What a perfect man.

The class resumed as usual, and despite his earlier disruption, Percy was completely serious for the rest of the lesson. He hadn’t been joking that he’d wanted a revision of sixth-year Herbology; being thoroughly helpful all throughout their activity for the day as he partnered with Jason to re-pot a Venomous Tentacula (with his gloves on, at Jason’s insistence). He’d crack silly jokes under his breath and grinned in satisfaction when Jason would giggle as a result, before coughing awkwardly to compose himself when they both received dirty looks from Reyna for making a ruckus. He was surprisingly knowledgeable in the subject despite his earlier blunder (“Mistletoe, really? We never had that one last year. Longbottom was out to get me, I tell you.”), mostly owing to being best friends with the smartest girl in school and his mum being quite the skilled gardener.

Needless to say, Jason was having so much fun. While he’s not really one to bemoan the unchangeable past, he bitterly thought that fate should’ve been kinder and granted them the chance of being actual classmates. He wished he’d been born a year older or Percy a year younger, then—had they been in the same year—wished he could have begged to be Sorted into Slytherin or snatched the Hat off Percy’s head to demand it to Sort the boy into Gryffindor with him. 

All those six long years in which Percy was a fellow student in the same castle with him, so close yet so far due to their slight difference in age and Houses, and only now did Jason have the privilege to truly know him. There was this strange sense of loss that Jason couldn’t help feeling when he thought of missing out on so many wonderful years in which he could’ve been mates with Percy for longer. It was a little depressing in retrospect.

It didn’t last too long, thankfully. He just thought of Percy in the hospital wing demanding to be his friend, Percy giving him homemade cookies at any chance he got, Percy calling him ‘baby’ all the time because he knew it made Jason weak in the knees, and he then could easily decide he’d rather live in the present. No use dwelling over things that could’ve been but didn’t, when he had the better option of savouring the actual moment. A sweet reality where Percy was his boyfriend and his days had never been better in consequence.

Percy seemed to share the very same sentiment with him. 

“Can you wait for me?” he requested, once the class ended and Jason’s classmates slowly filed out of the greenhouse for their next lesson. After two minutes of consulting Professor Longbottom while Jason idled near the entrance, Percy bounded towards him with barely concealed excitement, before dragging him out of the greenhouse and back into the corridors.

“Longbottom agreed to allow me to join you during my free period, so long as I can answer a question from him every time.”

Jason was over the moon. “Make sure you do your own prior reading, then,” he quipped, never mind the fact that he’d help Percy again in a heartbeat.

Like he’d already known what’s on Jason’s mind, Percy replied confidently, “I won’t let you down, baby.” 

His hand was still firmly grasping Jason’s, skin delightfully warm like it contained the morning sunlight. His thumb was gently running over Jason’s knuckles, so tender like when he’d trace butterbeer foam off Jason’s lips. When he spoke again, however, there was a hint of wistfulness in the timbre of his voice. “I don’t want to go to Creature Care.”

“Whatever happened to being Hagrid’s star student?” Jason teased, even though he knew exactly the reason for Percy's reluctance.

“Come with me, then I’ll go.”

“Percy…”

“Joking, I know you can’t. I won’t skive off either, this late in the semester,” Percy sighed in despondence. “I guess this is how it feels to taste the forbidden fruit. One bite, and now you want more no matter the risk.” He turned to look into Jason’s eyes with such earnestness and longing, Jason’s heart ached with the same. “I love being classmates with you, Jason. If I could turn back time, I’d beg the Sorting Hat to put me in Gryffindor for real. Even if we couldn’t have the same lessons, at least I could see you more often. We could hang out together in the common room, play in the same team, attend the post-match parties together…”

“You’re making me sad now, darling.”

“Sorry, baby,” Percy said sheepishly.

“Don’t be,” Jason reassured him gently, because didn’t he think the exact same only a few minutes ago? “Besides, things turned out pretty well in the end, didn’t it? We’re here together now.”

After a few seconds of contemplation, Percy decided, “You’re right,” and pressed his budding smile onto Jason’s lips.

They continued walking hand in hand down the hallways of the ancient castle. Jason was content to stay like this forever, to have this moment enclosed in a snow globe frozen in time, but alas, they had to go their separate ways in the end. 

Curiously, Percy kept walking with him even after they’ve passed by the turn where he’d head down to the grounds, and despite wanting nothing more than to let the matter be and have Percy be his classmate for the rest of the day (and even year, if possible), he thought it’d be best to point that out. “Shouldn’t you be heading that way for Creature Care?”

“Yeah,” Percy replied. “I’d like to walk you to your next class, though. Hagrid wouldn’t mind if I’m a few minutes late.”

Well, Jason found himself to not really mind that either, if it’d mean a few more precious minutes with his boyfriend.

***

“Merlin knows how I love that girl like my own flesh and blood, but this is a match we’re talking about,” Percy said grimly as they walked together down the winding path leading to the pitch, several weeks later.

Jason nodded in understanding. “All is fair in love, war and Quidditch.”

“You just made that up, didn’t you? Not that I disagree. Anyway, all I’m saying is you just have to win this match for either of us to secure the Cup.”

When Percy glanced at Jason, his boyfriend was gazing up at the cloudy sky in an unreadable look. “I think we’ll have a decent chance at it.”

He didn’t elaborate, but Percy would get his answer not long after. 

Jason’s spare jersey, as per the tradition, was his outfit of the day. He wished he could wear it forever. It was a little loose because of Jason’s much bulkier stature, but felt extremely comfortable nonetheless. It smelled of an oddly wonderful combination of freshly cut grass on the pitch and petrichor (that could also be due to the impending rain) and something distinctively Jason’s that Percy’s nose would always pick up when he buried his face in Jason’s neck.

The Gryffindors gave him a wide berth as he went to look for a seat in their stand, but that could also be due to Annabeth’s presence by his side and Reyna’s on her other. He hoped they could see the gold print of ‘GRACE 7’ on the back of his jersey; get it into their heads that he wouldn't be here if it wasn’t for his capable, amazing Seeker boyfriend. From the corner of his peripheral vision, he noticed a familiar hand waving for his attention, and saw Leo already reserving some seats for them.

“Not commentating today, mate?” Percy asked in greeting, returning Piper’s wave who was sitting on Leo’s other side. Leo had found them the best seats with a clear view of Gryffindor’s side of the pitch, where they could witness Frank’s Keeping prowess in all its glory.

“Nah. Taking a breather today,” Leo replied, digging a hand into a box of Bertie Botts’ before shoving a handful of beans into his mouth. Percy looked on in amusement as a myriad of contorted expressions made their way into Leo’s face before he forcefully swallowed the beans. “Besides, they’re all my good mates and I don’t trust myself enough to just say things that wouldn’t get me an earful from all three of Jason, Frank and Hazel.”

“You wouldn’t survive,” Piper agreed.

“I’d come out a changed man,” Leo said, shuddering slightly. “I’d lose my sense of humour and all the ladies!” 

Piper stole a bean from Leo as he bemoaned the made-up scenario in his mind. It took her less than a second to spit it back out with a disgusted, “Cheese? Yucks.”

“How lucky. I just got a combo of the top three nastiest flavours and you don’t wanna know how they tasted together. Oh, look! They’re about to start.”

Percy shuffled in his seat to take a good look at the centre of the pitch. Sure enough, the players for both teams were now in their starting positions, the lines of their bodies taut with tension, ready to fly at the first blow of the whistle. It’s all too clear what’s at stake in this final match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff: the former couldn’t afford another loss, and the latter weren’t willing to break their winning streak.

Naturally, his gaze found itself drifting toward Jason, who appeared to be the calmest out of all. Instead of antsy and tense, he looked focused, content, determined. Percy’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of that perfect posture. There’s no doubt that Jason, for all intents and purposes, was going all in to fulfil his promise to him. The thought was enough to keep him on the edge of his seat, skin buzzing with excitement, ready to cheer his lungs out.

Hazel, with two wins under her belt, was a similar picture. She no longer retained the carefully-concealed anxiety that marred her face during her first two games. She’d grown confident in her skin, eased herself into the role of a Seeker, radiant like the sun on her own two feet. Pride welling up within him, Percy thought she looked the most beautiful then, and wondered if it’d be traitorous to harbour a tiny bit of hope that she’d win again.

The whistle was blown and the players shot into the air in a frenzy. As if in tandem, thunder boomed directly above, and rain poured so intensely in a matter of seconds it caught everyone off guard. A cloudburst, completely unpredicted by the forecast. 

The spectators yelped and ducked their heads as they began to soak to their bones. Next to Percy, Annabeth casted an incantation above her head, unleashing an invisible canopy that protected their stand from the rain. With another wave of her wand, Percy was instantly dry in a second.

“Thanks, Wise Girl,” he said. 

Annabeth waved a nonchalant hand. “I wonder if they’ll be alright,” she said in reply.

Percy shrugged. “I’m sure Jason had played through worse conditions. It’s Hazel I’m worried about.”

From the intensity of the rainfall, visibility would be extremely limited. He could barely see the players from where he sat, only blurry dots of red and yellow zipping around as the game commenced like usual. Emergency goggles casted with the Impervius Charm were usually carried in the players’ robes for such a circumstance, ready to be equipped at a moment’s notice, but Percy doubted they’d be of much help anyway. Worryingly, the Seekers would surely have the hardest time. Finding a flying ball the size of a walnut in this weather was nigh-impossible; Percy assumed they’d only begin to search for it in earnest once the weather let up for a bit.

“I’d be more worried for Jason if I were you,” Reyna said, her voice carried by her impeccable projection even with the thunderstorm playing a deafening cacophony above. “I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed it, but I have a feeling that he’s a little shortsighted for a while now.”

“What?” Percy was caught off-guard for several seconds at her revelation. He could somehow recall a few instances of Jason squinting in the distance when he was staring at something. Before, he’d only thought it to be yet another one of Jason’s adorable quirks. His heart began to rev faster as his brain connected the dots. This was bad. Very, very bad. 

Pushing away the unhelpful thought of how cute Jason would look in glasses, Percy tampered down a sudden bout of nerves and willed his jittery knees to stay put. An intense Quidditch match in the midst of a thunderstorm didn’t bode well for the players’ safety in most scenarios. Despite his reservations against the divine, Percy prayed that Jason would come out of this match unscathed.

Gryffindor was in the lead so far, based on the frantic and disorganised commentary barely discernible from the howling winds. Hufflepuff was catching up in commendable speed, their gameplay gaining a huge boost in quality from their past victories. From the warbled voice of the commentator, Percy could pick up the movements of the players alongside his own limited vision. The Seekers hadn’t made any move to catch the Snitch yet, content to stay put as their teammates accumulated sufficient points for an overall win. 

Since the Cup was awarded based on the cumulative points from all three matches, Hufflepuff, whose victories had been relying heavily on the points granted from catching the Snitch, needed to overtake Gryffindor’s overall points in order to win the season. It was a pretty daunting hurdle to leap over; Gryffindor was in the lead amongst all four Houses.

Jason was given a slight advantage due to this case. He could begin his search earlier than Hazel once his teammate scored enough. As if agreeing with Percy, the commentator immediately shouted an hour later, “With another 10 points to Gryffindor to a total of 70 points, Grace is now on the move!”

Hazel refused to go down without a fight, it seemed. “And as if on cue, Levesque immediately flew farther away from Grace! Has she finally spotted the Snitch?”

Of course, Percy thought as a mixture of pride and exasperation bubbled in his gut. She’d probably figured out her special affinity to the Snitch and had strategized accordingly. She couldn’t catch it now and risk jeopardising the Cup, but she couldn’t also let Jason come near to catch it instead. Putting some distance between them while using the downpour as a cover seemed to be the most feasible strategy.

Their game of cat and mouse persisted for quite some time, Hazel thoroughly determined to stand her ground (or air?) until her teammates turned the tides of the game in their favour. “Looks like the Puffs are out for blood today, folks. Everyone is working together like a well-oiled machine even in this terrible weather. Even the Beaters are stepping up their game, holding their fort well against La Rue herself!”

After approximately half an hour, Hufflepuff managed to score enough that the 150 points garnered from catching the Snitch would guarantee their much coveted victory. With Jason hot on her heels, Hazel began to double back in a split second, executing a feint that forced him to veer off his course to avoid clashing with her. The final chase had now begun.

While it’d been acting like her best friend when she’s not actively Seeking, the Snitch turned out to not discriminate when it was being chased after. Percy wished he had a pair of binoculars like the commentator did, just to observe the events unfolding from his vantage point better. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to rely on their commentary instead. “Grace and Levesque are now racing for the ever elusive Snitch! Isn’t it amazing that a rookie can fly toe-to-toe with quite frankly the best flyer in the school right now? You may think it’s because of her state-of-the-art broomstick, but Grace had outflown better-equipped opponents before! This is a match Levesque would remember in her lifetime and be proud of.”

“Wow, they’re really buttering her up,” Leo said. “Is Nico holding them at wandpoint or something?”

The climax happened right in front of their stand. The rest followed his example as he rushed for the edge of the wall, crowding all around him in their excitement as both Jason and Hazel zoomed in their direction. Annabeth was cutting off the circulation in his arm with her death grip, uncharacteristically invested in the match. For his part, he was shouting at the top of his lungs, urging Jason to end the game with an assortment of “Go, baby, go!” and “You’re almost there!” He couldn’t care less if he’d sound like a bloody menace. Jason was so close to the finishing line, and he had Percy’s heart tight in his grasp along the way.

“I can’t see much from this angle, folks; we’d have to rely on our friends in the Gryffindor stands—looks like it’s the one where Grace’s boyfriend is too—I wager one of the Seekers is sure to make the decisive catch at this moment…wait a second, one of Hufflepuff’s Beaters just aimed a Bludger towards the two! The Seekers will surely dodge—BLOODY HELL, A DIRECT HIT!”

For a selfish moment, Percy wished the commentator would shut up for a second. Everything afterwards played as if it was in slow motion. Right in front of his eyes, he saw the magnificent view of Jason making a glorious swipe at the Snitch, oblivious to anything around him as his hand finally wrapped around the tiny ball. Next to him, Hazel made a futile grabbing motion almost at the same time, her shorter arm betraying her at the very last second. 

Then, there was that image that would forever be etched in Percy’s memory: of a manic glint in Jason’s intense blue eyes as he zeroed in on his target, like nothing else mattered in the whole world. Like he couldn’t care less if he’d crash into the stand or take in a Bludger’s direct assault; the only important thing was securing the win he’d promised for Percy.

The universe had probably thought it’d be funny when it happened. 

CRACK. The sound thundered in Percy’s ears, sending him into a momentary daze. His heart caught itself in his throat as he watched—in vivid clarity, of course, as the rain finally lulled to a drizzle in an absolute mockery to him—how the Bludger clashed against Jason’s arm in a vicious blow, the force snapping his elbow sideways in an angle that could only mean a bone fracture. As his sorry brain finally registered the sight in his mind, a shout tore itself out of his throat, desperate and horrified. “Jason!”

In such breakneck speed, a slow and nice brake was all but impossible. While he managed to decelerate enough, Jason still crashed into the wall of the stand with a distinct fwomp, Hazel running into him right after; an absurd scene right out of a children’s cartoon. Percy’s mind went straight into the gutter. He only realised that he’d almost jumped off for Jason when he registered Leo and Annabeth holding him back with vice-like grips.

“Mate, don’t be stupid!” Leo cried.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?!” Annabeth screeched.

“Jason!” Percy ignored them, his eyes widening in horror as Jason slid off his broomstick like a ragdoll right below him. Hazel, disoriented from the crash but still managed to stay afloat, was a little too late in reaching out to grab Jason. Percy might’ve sobbed a little as he helplessly watched Jason reach the ground at a deadly speed. He reached for his wand to do something, anything, and it was almost too late when he realised the referee had come in a clutch and casted a timely Cushioning Charm in his stead. 

Everything else was a blur after. He couldn’t recall how he managed to scale down the stairs leading to the pitch in one piece, but he found himself by Jason’s side soon after, just as the boy was deposited onto a floating stretcher by Madam Hooch.

Bile rose to Percy’s throat at the sight of Jason’s battered body. His eyes prickled with fresh tears once more. Jason’s eyes were half-lidded as they met Percy’s, misty as he barely clung onto his consciousness. When he registered Percy’s presence, a little too slowly in his concussion-induced stupor, his scarred lips curled in a lazy grin and his gloved palm unfurled to reveal the Snitch, its wings fluttering weakly in defeat. 

Percy wanted to snatch it away and stomp on it with his foot. “Y-You! You stupid, reckless git!”

Jason somehow had the audacity to grin even wider.

“Settle down, Mr Jackson,” Madam Hooch said.

“We won…darling…” Jason croaked.

Percy wanted to kiss him and throttle him at the same time. “You could’ve died!”

“Oh, he would’ve not,” Madam Pomfrey, who’d been on standby for this exact reason, snapped impatiently next to Percy. She’d already shooed away his friends, much to their indignation, and any other Gryffindor player who’d come over to see Jason, but made no such effort toward him for some mysterious reason—not that he had any complaints. With a few brisk jabs and waves of her wand, bandages wrapped themselves around Jason’s injuries. The fresh bruises mottling his skin faded as the first-aid spells took effect. His golden eyelashes fluttered to a close; a curtain call from his wakefulness as it finally bid farewell. 

He looked so angelic in his sleep. So serene, like he’s only napping on a Friday night. Percy wished he could’ve seen Jason asleep for the first time, unguarded and precious, in a circumstance less tragic than this one.

“Percy!” He noticed Hazel idling nearby. She’d just finished being tended to by another first aider and looked well enough, if not a little frazzled. The commentator had just announced Gryffindor’s victory, and both teams were moderately congratulating the other and worriedly peering at Jason from afar, knowing better than to disturb a Madam Pomfrey on duty. “I’m so sorry. I lost my bearings for a second and couldn’t catch him quickly enough—”

Percy caught her in a fierce hug. “You reckless girl! Save that suicidal kind of gameplay until after your tenth match, you hear me? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Percy. But he—”

“He’ll live,” La Rue cut her off, popping up behind them. She gave Jason a once-over with a pleased grin. “Never seen Grace that desperate to win, not that I’d expected anything less. You’re a bad influence, Jackson.”

Something sharp pierced in his chest. “Shut it. You could’ve deflected that fucking Bludger away from him, you know?”

She’s probably too drunk on victory to grace him with her usual irascible attitude. Like he’s only but a pesky fly, she ignored his seething and, deeming Jason fine enough, walked away to join her other teammates. They crowded around her and breathed out a collective sigh of relief once they got the good news.

“Go with him,” Hazel said. Percy tore his gaze away from the centre of the pitch to find the matron preparing to transfer Jason to the Hospital Wing.

“Can I? Please?” Percy asked Madam Pomfrey. On any other day, he’d put on his best puppy eyes, but he’s too devastated to even resort to them right then.

She looked between them, her willpower crumbling underneath both their pleading gazes, and sighed in defeat. “Oh, fine. As long as you don’t make a ruckus. And no staying back after curfew.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much.”

The journey to the Hospital Wing was uneventful. Madam Pomfrey walked briskly ahead without as much of a glance at the two boys trailing behind her. As they travelled along the corridors, Percy found his hand unable to part with Jason. He’d carefully stroke the messy blond curls sweeping over Jason’s forehead, wipe away the dirt caked onto his skin. Though he’d once claimed to be a light sleeper, Jason did not stir even a bit, so entrenched in his dreams. 

Percy watched the way Jason’s chest rose and fell as he slept, wondering if this was what had plagued Jason back then. Back when everything had just begun. He wondered if worry had gnawed at Jason’s chest too, with the same intensity that promised no end; if his nerves had also lit up with anxiety that spread all over his insides like wildfire. It felt so suffocating, this feeling in his own chest was, Percy doubted he’d ever get to sleep tonight.

As they reached the double doors of the Hospital Wing, he was struck with an epiphany. 

They’re slowly interconnecting in the way they work, Jason and him. In a way they’ve never been before, in tandem with each other in their actions and decisions. Like if one of them looked in the mirror, he’d see the other instead of his own reflection. Like if landed in similar predicaments, the course of action they’d take would certainly be the same. The most recent event was a testament to that.

As Jason’s unmoving form was settled onto one of the beds, Madam Pomfrey made a shooing motion at Percy to tell him to wait by the side. It’d only take a second, she said; she’d need all the concentration she could muster to mend Jason’s bones in a jiffy, so if Percy could just wait at one end of the room while she did, that’d be for the best. He didn’t want to part with Jason for even half a second, but he had no choice but to oblige. 

It turned out to be a painful wait, no matter how short. 

La Rue’s words rang in his mind like the toll of a bell, echoing in the far off distance. It was hypocritical of him, he had to admit, to believe that Jason shouldn’t have gone that far for him. He knew he’d done the same without the slightest bit of hesitation. Still, he wished Jason wouldn’t have resorted to follow his example. Jason had always been the more logical flyer; even relying on his instincts carelessly once had left him immensely mortified at the consequence. 

Percy didn’t know what to make of this development. Begrudgingly, he could only hope that it wouldn’t put more harm in Jason’s way later. 

Madam Pomfrey called him back after a minute. She let him sit on a chair adjacent to the bed before finally leaving them be. Feeling utterly selfish and hating himself for it, he stroked Jason’s cheek with trembling fingers, desperately wanting him to wake up. To look at him with that loving gaze once more, just so he’d know Jason was truly fine. 

Jason had never felt so far away when he’s not looking at Percy, even though they’re right next to each other. And Percy wasn’t sure if he could stand it a second longer.

[countvonvestra]

I must talk about something that has been on my mind for months because it will randomly manifest back into my teeny little brain.

This is Ferdibert aligned with how I am speaking on it, but this could just be in general because I think Hubert would do this in all cases. 

I imagine Hubert didn’t want the Vestra name to be known in history. He works to erase House Vestra and himself from history the best he can. It’s never been a priority for him to be remembered - all that matters to him is that Edelgard’s legacy lives on until the end of time. He will also make sure all the BESF is remembered for their part in the war, he will do everything to immortalize everyone so they will never be forgotten. I imagine they don’t know of Hubert’s efforts to erase him and his lineage from history. When he gets married to Ferdinand he immediately changes his last name to von Aegir, and he folds House Vestra into Ferdinand’s house just known as House Aegir. (I do love when people use Aegir-Vestra or vice versa, btw, this is just my personal opinion.) 

Despite Hubert being okay with being forgotten, Ferdinand is not one to just let Hubert do that. He gets many paintings commissioned of Hubert and hangs them all over the Aegir manor. His favorite painting of Hubert stays in his office, and it stays there for centuries until one of their ancestors gives it to a museum, along with other paintings of the pair. Despite Hubert’s name and house being wiped from history, he is still there. Though his name isn’t clear, he is just remembered purely as Her Majesty Edelgard von Hresvelg’s vassal and Duke Ferdinand von Aegir’s loving husband. Many theories are there about who Hubert was, and some theories are correct. It’s said he is one with the shadows, a mysterious presence that can come and go as he pleases. But the thing they know for sure is that he is a loving being who cares so much. (He is motivated by love after all.) Maybe as time goes on, more gets discovered of him. Maybe they find his name, figure out of the hold noble house of Vestra, find love letters sent between him and Ferdinand. I’d like to think none of it is a coincidence, as Ferdinand wanted Hubert to be remembered. They are the Twin Jewels of the Empire, and Ferdinand wants everyone to remember his jewel. 

I think this also could tie very well into a reincarnation AU. But that could be another post for another time. 

[paper--moons]

Regressor!Giran Headcanons

Adjusting back to business as usual after his first bout of regression isn't hard—not that Kagero expected it would be. He's a busy guy, after all; the world didn't stop turning just because he had that whole kidnapping thing going on, and now he's up to his eyeballs in missed client calls, back-orders from his regulars, and an added influx of new characters stepping out of the shadows seeking whatever information or supplies he can scrounge up now that the League and MLA have merged. So it's only too easy to throw himself back into the swing of things and keep telling himself that all of that soft relief from the trappings of his adult life and circumstances that that fuzzy headspace provided was a fluke. He's got plenty of other vices—like his smokes that he finally snagged back from Jin, or the endless variety of booze for him to imbibe at his preferred watering hole—that he doesn't need to add another (albeit healthier) thing to that list. But Kagero finds he's still seeking comfort in the items Jin gave him, finds that he still wants the comfort they provide. It isn't all the time, mind you, but it's enough for him to be annoyed about it. He's self-aware enough to know that getting huffy and pouting over it would do him no favors in convincing anyone he's completely grown-up and not little even a tiny bit, but luckily he hasn't got anyone to point that out. So instead he concedes to the little bastard, never having been any good at denying himself something he wants anyway. Besides, it won't hurt to change up his schedule to allow for things like a nap with his bunny. He can even make up for the lost time there by replacing his smoke breaks with his paci—although maybe that one doesn't exactly work out, but hey, live and learn. And what he has learned is that his baby time is here to stay.

It's important to remember that Kagero is a business man, the exact legality of the business that he conducts notwithstanding. This of course means he's got some spending money to help fund this new aspect of his personal life. While he could be buying the more responsible things he needs now (like bottles and whatnot), he is most certainly not doing that. Not his top priority. No, his top priority is spending his big bucks on things he technically doesn't need but that little him really really wants. Like sooo many Strawberry Shortcake dolls (including all of her friends as well—Orange Blossom is his favorite but do not tell the other girls, he doesn't want them getting self-conscious about it). And he wants them all too, both vintage ones and newer releases. In a very short period of time he amasses something of a collection, his online eBay doll hunting quickly leading him to adding not just the dolls and occasional playset, but also managing to procure several of the cartoon series and movies (some of the older ones being bootlegged copies, not that he particularly cares). Kagero could easily pass off everything as him being a serious collector, given his propensity for picking up cute items and trinkets that catch his eye. Except there's a slight problem in that anyone who's halfway observant will immediately notice these things aren't displayed like collector's items, but are instead scattered around like he's been playing with them. Because he has been, but that isn't the point. The point is that he really should probably clean up his place—but most likely he's going to keep playing until he has to go somewhere and be big, dumping everything into a pile on his bed at the last minute.

Speaking of collecting cute items, his horde of cutesy items doesn't just grow in his home space. His collection keeps expanding once he starts regressing more regularly, and naturally it cannot be contained to only one area. Starting with little things at first, like getting a cute phone case for each of his phones and not just his personal one. Then comes the phone charms, and then he's finding he's buying all these cute pens and stationary. There's suddenly so much Lisa Frank filling his office that it starts to look like an early-2000s era Claire's exploded around him, leaving him covered in the viscera and fallout (and glitter). Even his wardrobe takes a hit during this time. Not so much the things he's wearing out and about, but the things he's wearing on his off days (off days that more often than not start to coincide with his small days). One of the staple outfits of this new wardrobe is a pair a sweatpants, his Zoomer and Zorbit hoodie, and of course the matching Lisa Frank crocs should he be leaving the house. It's an outfit that is comfortable enough that he'll wear it when he's curled up nursing a bottle and generally being a sleepy little guy. But it's also an outfit that he doesn't mind popping down to the corner store in to pick up whatever snacks he's craving. It's gotten him a few odd looks as he fills his basket with the best prepackaged garbage he can get his hands on, but the usual clerk has complimented his outfit before so it can't be all that bad of a look on him.

Kagero has always had his fingers in a lot of pies so to speak, and despite the literal number of fingers he has being fewer the metaphorical number of pies keep multiplying. One of his latest ventures is a little side project that actually resulted from his own need to mod and customize a couple of pacifiers for himself. This was of course upon realizing quite quickly that he needed a couple of spares after misplacing the one Jin got for him one afternoon—he found it later thankfully, though that didn't spare him the overwhelming emotions in the moment (emotions that he's used to being able to brush off with ease). It was oddly upsetting and he isn't a fan of feeling upset when he's big let alone when he's small, so the obvious solution was to get a few extra to avoid another paci panic. However, the issue there was that he didn't like the ones he was finding. Which led to him just doing it himself! Kagero has done some pretty hard stuff in his time, so a little arts and crafts project should be a breeze—and it is, only he just. Keeps making them. Until he has a bucket of at least thirty, which seems a bit excessive if you ask him. But what was he supposed to do? They only sold what he wanted to use in bulk! One does not simply buy a handful of beads and charms (he tried, and the craft store sent him away). It was easier to keep making them until he used up all of the stuff he bought, and there's nothing wrong with the surplus so he figures why not make some money back? It takes less than five minutes to set up an online shop under one of his plethora of online handles and attach pictures of the product he's pushing—and as it turns out, his designs are pretty popular.

It would be a fair assumption to think that he likes more elaborate or complex toys. Something over the top, with all the bells and whistles. Given his appreciation for kitschy things or his apparent fascination with novelty items (just look at the man's lighter! could it be any more over the top?), it's a foregone conclusion, right? Wrong! Sure, he certainly won't turn these things down if they are offered to him. After all, what man can possibly deny the allure, the absolute siren song, of flashing baby toys that cost at least forty bucks on sale at Target? Such are the wants and desires of a grown man with refined taste. When he's occupying that soft babyspace however? Kagero tends to gravitate towards toys that are more straightforward and simplistic in both design and intended use. Things like those big wooden puzzles that click so satisfyingly into place, shape sorters in pleasing pastel colors, or stacking toy sets that provide a sense of satisfaction upon stacking all of the things oh so very high. In particular though he is fond of those geometric wooden shape blocks; this thing is a pattern recognition baby. So long as he has his basic needs met (i.e., goldfish crackers and cold apple juice sippy within arm's reach), Kagero is more than content with sitting and creating patterns for a few hours. Or it feels like a few hours but in actuality is closer to thirty minutes, which is about the same time he runs out of snacks (a fact that is not correlated to this in the slightest, no). Once the goldfishies are all gone, his patterns start to get more...interesting, as he incorporates other toys into them. Usually he winds up with some circle made out of the triangle blocks with a puzzle piece placed in the center, like he's trying to summon something. It never works.

Generally speaking, Kagero is so slick about his regression. Enough so that he doesn't even have to scramble to hide most of his regression gear, should anybody drop by unannounced. Which is good, given that a lot of his clientele drop in unannounced—mainly those in the League, not that he keeps tabs on the number of visits or anything (he does). So when Dabi does inevitably decide to crawl into his office through a window grace him with his presence, he isn't making any big moves to try and sweep the paci he left out into his desk drawer. Instead he reclines in his chair and asks the kid what he wants this time, reciting an itemized list of what he usually asks for until offering to bundle it all together at a discount (discount of course being a generous term used to mean that he won't upcharge him any). But the kid doesn't respond to that, no, his eyes are fixed exactly where Kagero doesn't want them to be. Now, he's had decades to perfect the art of keeping his cool and appearing completely unbothered by whatever is thrown at him, so brushing off anything that points to his new little habits is a breeze...in most cases. The basic formula he's been following for years is to act unfazed and then redirect a person's attention to something else (whether the distraction be a physical one or simply a change in conversational topics varies, but he doesn't sweat the small details like those). This works unless the other individual is highly perceptive or highly stubborn. And Dabi is nothing if not stubborn; he isn't satisfied with the flippant response about "needing it for when he meets Molly at a party later", only for him to snicker that his slang is outdated and continue to stick his nose where he shouldn't. Which naturally means that it's time for Kagero to break out his quirk and make the kid forget what he saw so he'll leave him alone. What? It's good to have a back-up plan.

There are a few key differences between big Kagero and small Kagero. One of those differences being that when he's big he believes that he's completely fine regressing alone. However, he sings a different tune once he starts slipping. He doesn't really middlespace much, so his window is limited, but when he starts feeling little he almost always calls Jin. Not to ask him to come and keep an eye on him or keep him company because that's embarrassing and totally unnecessary—no, he calls just to talk for a minute. Although he's careful not to tip him off and definitely doesn't mention the fact that he's slipping, Jin can tell. They've had enough conversations for him to pick up on the fact that something is off. The what're you doing? not being an unusual question, but being spoken in an unusual way. Slow and unsure. Less like a confident broker keeping tabs on his quarry, not exactly like a friend concerned about him either, but more like a child checking to see if their parent is still awake. Most of the time when this happens, he stays on call with him for as long as he can, taking on a softer tone but being sure not to patronize him. If he's somewhere nearby though, then the phone call is much shorter—why stay on the phone when he can swing by? And swing by with pizza no less. The gesture is much appreciated, even if Kagero starts needing a little help with his pizza, having fully slipped now that Jin is there. He probably could have pushed himself to stay big, but Jin plays dirty and puts on something animated for them to watch. How's a guy supposed to stay big when Strawberry Shortcake: The Sweet Dreams Movie is playing? And maybe Kagero falls asleep halfway through, pizza box in his lap and leaning against Jin—but it's okay, Jin doesn't mind in the slightest.