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Geralt you’re great but your horse is better

I would pay to read a book about the alphabet if it was written by Madeline Millar

Siren!Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson cannot sing. Ask Annabeth, Grover, the seven or a member of the Apollo cabin for a more professional opinion. He’s loud, brash, certainly enthusiastic, but will have most campers covering their ears and laughing along with his completely toneless attempt at the art.

And that’s what he needs them to think.

Being the child of prophecy left Percy ridiculously overpowered, to the point people fear him and that’s important. Percy doesn’t want this. Not only is he an inherently friendly guy, he’s already on thin ice with a good majority of the gods and finding out he’s got powers they don’t know about is one step away from immediate death or forced immortality, neither a viable option. He hunches and lowers his voice, purposely throws fights and rarely even considers going all out on the use of his powers. He tones down tales of his accomplishments, never drawing attention, always blending in.

He doesn’t sing.

The first time he did it he was a child. A kid who shouldn’t be showing any demigod traits for at least another half decade. He just wanted his juicebox. And his mother gave it to him. But her eyes were clouded over with a milky blue colour and her arm swayed where she stood, holding the juice out for him to take. He was humming and he didn’t know why but she was scaring him and he stopped and so did she. Percy didn’t understand it. Sally did, and it was the first secret he ever learnt to keep.

The thing with being a siren, is it’s not how it’s shown on tv. Sure it sounds nice to those who hear it, but in the same way a poisonous insect might show itself in pretty pink. It’s dangerous, more so than charmspeak, because while Percy keeps singing he has full, unbreakable control over anyone in hearing range and it’s terrifying. He understands just why it’s so dangerous years later, when he’s first described as a weapon. If someone can control him, control his power…he’s not being boastful when he says they could control anyone, he’s being honest, and he’s sure there’s gods that would try.

He comes clean to his father after the wars, the first person he’s ever actually told, because he’s terrified. Sure it’s easy enough to pretend to sing badly every now and then, but the gods are always watching and there’s been times he’s been forced to use it or die. A kid at camp saw him once. He had to manipulate him into forgetting. It haunts him the way he just smiled and nodded and walked away, agreeing complete with Percy’s will. Surprisingly, Poseidon understands the exact threat of having this power almost immediately, all too aware of the power hungry nature of his family, what that could mean for Percy, but there’s little he can do other than offer his protection if found out. There’s no way to remove a siren voice this strong, no way to prevent it.

So Percy Jackson cannot sing. Ask Annabeth, Grover, the seven or a member of the Apollo cabin for a more professional opinion. He is loud and brash and certainly enthusiastic, but you’ll never hear his true voice, or at least won’t remember you did.

Patroclus and Achille’s story is so heart wrenchingly summed up in this poem that even if you don’t like poetry if you enjoyed song of the Achilles I’m begging you to read it because it’s actually beautiful.

There just has to be a happier story for us my love - Tash J Curry

There has to be another life,

another us, somewhere.

A story in which we were happy,

after everything.

One where you’re not dying in my arms.

And I can’t save you.

There has to be one,

just that One.

Where we live.

Where, we find peace knowing that,

the war is over.

It’s done.

And we don’t have to fight anymore.

One

where

we can live.

There has to be a universe

where this isn’t the only ending,

we get. 

That they’re other stories, 

for us, out there. 

Because we can’t be...

this can’t be...

We’re not this Almost which was never enough for us,

for this story.

There has to be another.

This can’t be the only end.

We don’t Deserve this my love.

I hope we’re there in and amongst other stories,

Happy Ones,

because we lived

through too many tragedies

history won’t let us forget.

And I can’t lose you again.

I won’t.

We Deserve to be happy, my love.

‘Creature’ by half alive is little Nico Di Angelo finally saying fuck you to his 1940’s Italy internalised prejudice and fully embracing his greek lineage and homosexuality all in one smashing song and you cannot tell me it wasn’t made for him.

‘I am creation both haunted and holy, made in glory’

My dude is belting this and I love that for him

Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher just being absolutely...astounded by the amount of knowledge this kid has on not only the socio-economic climate of literally every freaking country but the most freakishly good instincts of how each new politician that comes along is going to fare. It’s at the point he now has a secret cabinet of sticky notes on Alex’s off hand comments of each new public figure because God Dammit he always turns out to be right.

Give me Alex’s Riders politics teacher who stands up for him against others in the staff room because his essays provide the freshest viewpoints he’s seen in over 20 years. Ethics, politics, morality, social structures, negotiations, public figures, military influences and ulterior motivators; Alex Rider handles each topic with a grace and insight he hasn’t seen since university. Quite frankly he doesn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified. He settles on curious.

Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher who’s family served in the army, who recognises the shadows of war in those dark brown eyes even if he can never understand why. The only one that seems to notice that seeing Alex’s controlled, efficient steps through a boisterous crowd of school children is like watching a ballet dancer glide through a swarm of drunk seagulls.

Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher who let’s the poor kid take a nap in class or snack when he wants to (partly because 50% of the time he looks ready to drop) but mostly because deep down they both know there’s nothing that he can teach him here. Alex had an already pretty unusual and impressive grasp of foreign affairs before his uncle died and in the years since then? Well, he’s pretty sure Alex speaks more languages fluently than he has fingers.

Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher whose subject gives him more of a glimpse into his talents than most people are allowed to see; who takes one good look at his extra little piece of the puzzle and thinks yeah. This kid is brilliant.