I’m gonna say it, (the thing that you’re not supposed to say), but I genuinely believe the idea of ‘tip jars’ and the like has permeated the fanfiction community and ruined the basis of connection between readers and writers.
Originally a community built on mutual support/rapport, i.e. I write a fic and you comment, engage, like and share it in exchange for my more frequent submissions, (with the underlying assumption that I am a human being writing for free, you read it and encourage that writing with the benefit of reading what I write), and now it’s consumer + producer.
I will be DAMNED. DAMNED. If I ever accept money for fanfiction. ‘Oh I don’t expect people to pay me, they can tip if they wan-’
YOU’RE PUTTING ‘Tip Jar’ AS A LINK ON EVERY FIC YOU WRITE.
Motherfucker I may be gullible, but I know promotion when I see it. From the bottom of my fiery, opinionated heart, FUCK. YOU.
Readers deserve to feel like they have the space to comment and engage with fanfiction material, that’s literally why I started writing and posting my fic in the first place; I was invited! Now with the presence of money you make it seem like your writing is commercial, money-generating and original.
IT’S FUCKING NOT. You took an idea from someone else’s writing/creation/show and changed it to fit your own needs, and even with ‘AUs’ it would still be classified as copyright infringement in the public market, even if you changed details of the setting or character!!!
Your fanfiction isn’t marketable, that’s why it’s (fan)fiction. Stop fucking selling it you ignorant, self-absorbed twat.
Viola anon back again and oh my god you were right about there being so many things to think about at once 😭😭 I swear I can feel new neurons forming as I try to do it all at once! I’m still struggling with accidentally focusing too much on one thing and messing up (minimum) three others
It’s so worth it though. I’m so obsessed with playing. I practice 30mins every day which I know isn’t like a LOT when it comes to learning/playing instruments but it’s the one thing I do consistently every damn day and it often adds up to being more than I do other hobbies in a week!!
Anyway thank you for your advice from months ago. It really helped me feel better about starting late and made me even more excited to learn
Viola anon! 🩵
I’m so happy to hear from you! And even happier that your musical journey is going well.
Practicing everyday, no matter how long you’re practicing for, is absolutely fantastic and you should be really really proud of yourself for doing that!! A large part of what goes into learning a string instrument is muscle memory and repetition. I would’ve killed to have my students practicing every day back when I taught private lessons so seriously good for you for holding yourself to that standard!!!!
One of my professors used to tell me it didn’t matter how long I practiced for, it only mattered how I practiced. So spending fifteen-twenty minutes working on passages that were giving me problems and actually learning how to play it accurately, versus playing for an hour but only doing sections that I liked hearing and buzzing through the lines I struggled with (which i was guilty of lol). So doing thirty a day is more than enough in my opinion!
Also, I really do know so many people who started playing instruments later in life. In my opinion it truly doesn’t matter when you start playing. I’m just so thrilled you get to have this opportunity now. Im obviously quite biased, but music is something that really changed my life and I always get so happy seeing others find purpose in it as well.
If you ever want to discuss anything music related or not music related, I’m always around and my inbox and DM’s are open. Again, so good to hear from you!
Dr. Linda Davis was essentially murdered by ICE on Monday, January 16, 2025, in Savannah, Georgia. Despite it being her day off for President's Day, this much-loved, life-long special education teacher went to Hesse School early yesterday morning. She planned to participate in a workshop dedicated to helping Spanish-speaking students who are too fearful to attend school due to widespread ICE terrorism in Chatham County and Coastal Georgia.
Immediately after the car crash, ICE prioritized detaining the other driver, who is yet another innocent person, leaving Dr. Davis suffering alone to die. (Does this sound like what they did to Renee Good to you, too?) The DHS thugs didn't offer her medical help or even approach her vehicle. Not until emergency crews arrived FIFTEEN minutes later did Dr. Davis receive any care. Being only two blocks from school on Whitfield Avenue, Dr. Linda Davis's own co-workers watched in horror as all of this unfolded. This is unconscionable.
Surprisingly, even the Savannah Police Department has admonished ICE for their deadly actions and terrorism of the city yesterday. This is rare, especially in the deep south.
In fact, Chatham County has a strict no-chase policy in order to protect the people of Savannah. Across the country, no-chase policies exist thanks to years of data documenting how this practice is utterly unsafe and subjects communities to needless trauma. But, once again, the rogue behavior of ICE goons has resulted another horrific, fatal tragedy.
From the New York Times: "Local officials say they were never notified of the ICE operation [at checkpoints along exits off Truman Parkway]. County Chairman Chester Ellis said if local law enforcement had been involved, there like would have been a safer way to apprehend [the gentleman] without endangering the public."
Of course, Noem's response is beyond barbaric. She can go and fuck right on off. What a POS excuse for a human being. You better believe that we all can't wait to see your sorry ass behind bars right alongside all of your other pedo pals.
The many Savannahians playing the race card regarding this senseless tragedy are only showing yourselves to be the bigots you've always been. See: Independent Presbyterian Church, et al. And we'll know they are Christians by their love hate, right? Exactly.
ICE protestors gathered at Forsyth Park in response to the death of Linda Davis, who died after being hit by a man who was fleeing ICE.
Where are you National Public Radio, the Associated Press, and Reuters?? Oh, that's right. Nowhere to be found. Typical. You shame the name of real journalists everywhere.
When you know better, do better. Well, y'all sure as shit know better, so where the hell are you??
I don't know why only local Savannah news and the New York Times have covered this and no one else is saying a word about her, but a beautiful woman from my hometown, Dr. Linda Davis, was killed yesterday in a car accident directly due to inhumane actions taken by ICE. DHS created this very dangerous situation, endangering the life of one man and killing Dr. Davis.
Do not be led astray: This "accident" was not the male driver's fault. Yet another vehicular homicide was caused yesterday by ICE and ICE alone.
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Upate: Newsweek finally reported on this story at 5 A.M. today, February 17, 2025.
Dr. Linda Davis, a teacher at Hesse K-8 School in Savannah, died the morning of February 16, 2026, following a fatal crash.
As reported, Hesse K-8 Principal Alonna McMullen wrote in a post on Facebook: "The students and staff will react in different ways to the death of one of our school community members. We all should expect and try to understand that there will be a variety of emotions and responses to what has occurred. The most important thing we can do is to be supportive and encourage an open expression of feelings."
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From a Savannahian who knew Dr. Davis well:
"Dr. Linda Davis devoted her life to care, dignity, and the belief that every person deserves to be treated as human first. A respected physician in Savannah and a steady presence for families across the city, she built her career on compassion that never wavered, even on her hardest days.
Her death came during an immigration enforcement operation carried out by federal agents without prior notice to local law enforcement. The chaos and confusion of that moment took from Savannah a healer, a mentor, and a woman whose work had quietly held entire communities together. In the hours since, colleagues, patients, and neighbors have spoken of her as someone who never turned away from those in need, someone who made people feel seen.
Today we honor her not only for the life she lived, but for the breach of trust that cut that life short.
Communities deserve transparency. Families deserve answers. And those who dedicate their lives to service deserve safety, respect, and truth.
Dr. Linda Davis leaves behind a legacy of care that cannot be buried or brushed aside. Her name will not fade from the record, nor from the memory of the city she served. Savannah will carry her forward in every clinic she strengthened, every patient she comforted, and every voice now demanding that what happened to her never happen again.
She is gone, but she is not forgotten."
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From Savannah Indivisible:
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I didn't attend Hesse Elementary School, but most of my friends in high school did. The now closed Thunderbolt Elementary, where I was a student, was 8 miles from Hesse. My house was only 2.6 miles away. I drove by Hesse Elementary nearly every day of the calendar year when I lived in Savannah. Whitfield Avenue, a thoroughfare we all know well, is where Davis's life was violently taken and only two blocks from Hesse.
The trauma inflicted on those innocent school children?? Oh, my God. And I cannot imagine what my former classmates are thinking and feeling right now. I, with a great deal of rage, am also wondering where the hell are all the Savannah "Christians" I used to know, including my own mother. DO YOU GIVE A SHIT NOW??
shoutout to my conductor for leaving me on read when i told him (after warning him friday night that I’ve been sick all week) that i cannot perform tonight 🫶🏻🫶🏻
trickmas 2025, day seven, for @the-scarlet-witch-22 - (mcu x camp half-blood, rated T for language, violence & character death)
My gf and I both adore pjo, and with the new series coming out, I've really been feeling it- and wanted to surprise her with this. Please enjoy this take on what pjo would look like if it collided with the mcu at a very high rate of speed.
˖⁺‧₊˚✦
“You can come out now, honey.” Agatha calls. “We know you’re there.”
The light from the moon cuts through the trees; stark beams of light harsh against the black branches.
Caught, Wanda has no other choice but to step forward into the dim flame of Agatha’s tiny lantern.
“Well, well. Look what the Chimera dragged in.” Agatha drawls, sitting on the ground, her hands sprawled casually behind her. She’d probably be more intimidating if this wasn’t offset by a pair of purple pajama pants, featuring rabbits leaping out of top hats and magic wands.
“How much did you hear?” Rio is suddenly next to Wanda, hissing, her large, dreadful eyes unnaturally reflective in the moonlight. Wanda glances down, and there’s a dagger of a dark, freezing metal at her throat.
“I heard enough.” Wanda says flatly, unintimidated. She’s dead inside anyway, so what’s the point of backing down. There’s no point in living, not since- “You.” She points at Agatha. “You’re not the demigod you’re pretending to be.”
She looks back at Rio. “And you, you’re-”
One Day Earlier
“That’s just Peleus.” Clint says casually. “He’s in charge of the Fleece.”
Wanda squints, and the Mist clears.
“Just Peleus” is a dragon. The size of an 18 wheeler, copper scales glimmering in the sunlight, curled protectively around the base of a giant pine tree, at the top of the hill. Next to the tree - about the same size as the dragon- is a massive white statue of a woman in gold, with a helmet on her head and a shield on her arm.
Sure. Why not.
They walk between the dragon and the statue at a quick clip; the others ignore them both, save for Steve who swiftly bows to statue as they pass.
They must cross some invisible barrier, Wanda thinks, because everyone visibly relaxes as they crest the hill, and start to head down the slope.
Wanda can see a cluster of buildings in the distance, but doesn’t care much to study them.
“Gods, I can’t wait to get a shower.” Clint groans, looking battered, while Natasha stretches, her silvery camo outfit still covered in oil, blood, and whatever else from the cataclysmic battle yesterday.
“I know, but we have to take Wanda to see Fury first. She’ll need a place to sleep.” Steve says, his face creased with concern. “Not to mention decide-“ he glances at the divinely enhanced automaton ahead of them. “-where Vision will go to… recharge?”
“He’ll come with me to Nine.” Tony says, uncharacteristically subdued. “My siblings will want to have a look at him.”
Thor frowns. He’s as filthy as the rest of them are, save for his dazzling blond hair. “They won’t harm him, will they?”
“Not if they want to retain their fingers.” Tony’s lip curls.
Wanda empathizes a little with his anger. But Bruce, his cursed best friend, is only missing.
Pietro is definitely dead. And Wanda is 15 and alone, walking into a camp full of people who last week were very much her enemies.
Nothing left to lose, she tells herself for the thousandth time. And nowhere else to go.
Wanda trudges on, not really watching where they’re going until the group slows, and she glances up.
They’re in front of a huge, blue house; at least three stories, if not more, wrapped by a massive wooden porch, with double front doors that lead within.
But the porch is where they are headed; as they clamor up the stairs and turn to the left- there’s a large table with three people around it, all focusing on the cards in their hands and not the motley mix of battle-worn demigods trooping toward them.
There is an actual centaur; his horse half a deep chestnut, while his human half resembles the actor Samuel L. Jackson, albeit with an eyepatch. Next to him is a frowning older woman with curly hair, dressed in a colorful coat, while the man across from her- dressed in an eye-watering, leopard print Hawaiian shirt- is muttering, studying his hand.
“Mr. D, Fury- erm.” Steve is at the front of their bedraggled little band, and as he approaches the table, gives a short bow to the man, the centaur, and then pauses, looking at the woman, puzzled.
“Lilia, the Sibyl of Cumae.” She drawls, glancing over at him, her dark eyes sharp.
“Where’s Ms. Rachel?” Steve raises an eyebrow.
“Vacation.” Fury huffs shortly, studying them with his singular eye- as Lilia continues.
“I’m subbing in for her; she needed the break, dealing with you people.” Lilia shrugs, looking back to her cards and laying them on the table. “I win, gentlemen.” She says simply, while Mr. D swears under his breath.
“Didn’t you Fade?” Clint asks, leaning against the wall. “Could have sworn Dad said you Faded.”
“No thanks to your father.” Lilia grumbles. “But, turns out Fading isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, so now I’m back.”
“Can you do that?” Clint whispers to Nat, sotto voice, who just shrugs.
Wanda’s barely following all of this- but she doesn’t much care to. She’d really like them all just to shut up, so she can find out where she can sleep.
“Anyway, I’m not the most interesting person on the porch, not by a long shot.” Lilia inclined her head at Vision, then Wanda.
“I see you picked up some strays, Sven.” Mr. D scowls, looking grumpy. “And somehow lost a few too.”
Steve sighs. “I know you know my name Mr. D.”
“Just tell us what happened.” Fury orders, folding his arms, his tail flicking. “You all look like hell, and despite this being the number of you I sent out, this is certainly not the same set of demigods who left. Did you succeed?”
Steve looks expectantly over at Wanda, who groans, and steps forward, emptying the pockets of the leather jacket Nat had given her.
Hydra teeth come tumbling out.
Fury raises an eyebrow. “I take it that’s a yes.”
“Yes, it was, Activities Director Fury.” Thor booms. “But not without great cost.”
Steve starts to tell the story of the last week, with the others jumping in at different intervals to offer their perspectives. It’s interesting to Wanda, who’s only heard this in bits and pieces, but she’s so damn tired, she’s in and out, only half-listening.
Hephaestus had apparently offered a quest to the demigod heroes of the camp: find out why his scraps were disappearing from the Junkyard of the Gods.
Heroes had been chosen- including, on Tony’s insistence as the quest leader, Bruce, a son of the Muse Ourania, and Jarvis, a satyr protector.
There was some issue about a prophecy calling for more heroes on the quest, and the resulting additions of: Steve, Athena’s son with his own Aegis, Thor, son of Zeus and prodigy with lightning, Clint, the hawk-eyed son of Apollo, and Natasha, a Hunter of Artemis.
(Wanda’s pretty sure Nat is a demigod too, but she’s not sure of whom.)
The rest of it is just flashes.
The team discovering an evil automaton, calling itself Ultron; a discard of Hephaestus’s, somehow imbued with the blood of the giant Mimas- Hephaestus’s own bane- who had been defeated during Gaea’s last uprising.
Ultron stumbling upon Wanda and Pietro, two powerful demigod children of Hermes, who had been raised to liberate the human world from gods and monsters alike by a powerful, intelligent Hydra named Strucker, as well as the organization the monster had constructed to conceal the twins from the Olympians.
Pietro and Wanda, with Ultron, killing Strucker and battling the demigods from Camp Half Blood over Chicago.
Bruce and Tony building an automaton to counter Ultron, with leftover parts from the Junkyard and Ultron’s own birth, along with a few… extras.
At the same time, Wanda and Pietro defected, when Wanda caught wind of Ultron’s plan to seize the world- not to liberate it, but for himself.
All of them being present as Thor called down lightning at the top of the Sears Tower, and brought Vision to life.
The final, climatic battle over Lake Michigan. Bruce’s curse overcoming him, turning him into some kind of giant, rampaging before he vanished.
Pietro and Jarvis dying.
Ultron destroyed.
Tony got Ultron’s heart, which he’d already sacrificed to his father, as a thanks for Vision.
Wanda got the Hydra teeth.
There’s a pause at the end of the tale, as everyone sits and reflects.
“They’ll be a feast for you, of course.” Fury says at last, stroking his chin. “And memorial for the fallen.
He fixes his eye on Wanda. “Daughter of Hermes?”
She nods slowly.
“What are your godly abilities? Were you ever claimed?” Fury raises his eyebrow.
“Claimed?” Wanda repeats.
“Your father would have shown something to indicate to the two of you that you were his. Or done something.” Steve says gently.
Wanda shakes her head. “Pietro is fast. I am just, I don’t know, weird.” She wriggles her fingers and flinches, realizing she had spoken about Pietro in the present tense, but refusing to go back on it.
“The speed, we thought, Hermes.” Steve explains, looking back over at Fury.
“And the weird, Hermes Trismegistus.” Tony adds, for the first time in a while. “Hermes as the God of Magic.”
“Not a bad theory, boys.” A voice rings out from nowhere, confident and smooth. “But wouldn’t Divine Papa be in River deep trouble for not claiming Things One and Two?”
There’s a shimmer, and a new girl appears out of nowhere- her dark bushy hair piled on her head, with a purple Camp Half Blood t-shirt, black jean shorts, and a weird locket on her necklace, framed by six beads. She’s older than Wanda, almost an adult, but she’s pouting like a toddler.
“Harkness, how many times do I have to tell you to one, stop doing that, and two, stop enchanting your camp gear to unauthorized colors? If you want to transfer to Camp Jupiter, I’ll gladly send you packing.” Fury growls, as Clint and Thor murmur to each other behind Wanda, but too soft to hear.
“Please, like Clark and those legion nerds could handle all this.” The girl says flippantly. “Besides, you asked to see me, Director Fury.”
“I asked to see you three damn hours ago.” Fury huffs. “More specifically, Mr. D. did.”
The girl gives a half bow towards the god. “Yes, Mr. D.?”
“Agnes-”
“Agatha.”
“That’s what I said. If I have to hear one more complaint about you from the nymphs-”
“I wasn’t aware I was giving them anything to complain about.” Agatha says smoothly.
Wanda blinks, at the audacity of her tone to an actual god- catching Nat hiding a grin out of the corner of her eye.
Mr. D. scowls. “Whatever Hardness. Don’t let me hear about it again or I’ll ship you one way back to your mother, as one of her dogs.”
“Everyone’s trying to get rid of me.” Agatha sighs, much put upon. “As you say, Lord of the Stage.”
“Get out of here.” Mr. D huffs, and with another short bow, Agatha steps back.
Looking Wanda over carefully, Agatha’s eyebrow raises, as though she’s seeing something no one else has spotted yet. She smirks, and she murmurs, just so Wanda can hear, “See you later, honey.” With a wink, her hand twists and she vanishes again.
“That girl.” Mr. D. shakes his head. “Talented or not, if her understudies didn’t suck-”
“And by that, you mean she keeps poisoning them.” Lilia mumbles under her breath.
“-and the show's premiere wasn’t next week, I’d have thrown her out a long time ago.” Mr. D complains, as if he didn’t hear Lilia at all.
Fury claps his hands, bringing them back to order. “We clearly have much more to discuss, but you all look like hell.”
He pauses, thinking for a moment, then adds. “I’d like to formally welcome you back, questers, and to the newcomers, welcome to Camp Half-Blood. We’ll have the memorial service for the fallen tomorrow evening, after sundown, and the celebration for the completed quest the day after.” He looks over at Tony. “Congratulations.”
“Ha!” Tony all but spits. With a huff, he turns, and stomps off, down the hill, leaving them all behind.
“I will go with him.” Vision says after a long, awkward moment, turning to follow.
Steve looks over at Wanda and hesitates. “Wanda-”
“It’s fine Steve, I’ll take her to 11.” Nat says quietly. “You should go after Tony; you know him best.”
Steve sighs. “I’ll see you guys later.” He follows Tony and Vision, the shield on his back gleaming in the late afternoon sun.
The rest of them take their leave of the adults on the porch too- as Nat escorts Wanda down the hill; talking quietly about the camp while groups of orange clad demigods stare at all of them and their battle-worn clothes. Wanda’s not really listening, instead thinking instead about that girl in purple, who seemed to know something Wanda didn’t.
Thor turns off to a cabin that looks more like a small palace, calling out cheerfully for someone named Carol as the bronze doors close behind him. Clint gives them a two fingered salute and ambles away as well, toward a building that looks to be made of solid gold. There’s a girl out front who gives an excited squeal and tackles him, while a golden retriever barks enthusiastically beside her.
Nat pauses in front of a more normal looking cabin- fresh brown paint, and a cadesus over the door. “Do you want-”
She’s interrupted by a cheerful voice. “Don’t worry Nat!” A boy with cropped brown hair, twinkly eyes, and an easy smile pops his head out of cabin's door “You’re Wanda, right?”
“How do you know that?” Wanda crosses her arms.
“Oh, Agatha already came by, told us everything!” The boy says cheerfully. “I’m Scott, Scott Lang, I’m the Counselor! Welcome to Cabin 11, little sister!”
“Good luck.” Nat mutters, and before Wanda can stop her, heads off, toward a shimmering silver cabin in the distance.
“She’s so spooky.” Scott says with a shiver. “Did you know she’s one of the Hades kids?”
“I do now.” Wanda mutters. That makes sense, actually.
“Let’s go say hello to everyone else!” Scott chirps, and grabbing Wanda by the elbow, drags her along. “We’re so lucky that we got here when we did; it used to be that all the unclaimed or smaller gods’ kids got stuck here- but now everyone has their own place to stay once they’re claimed.” He nods happily as he hauls Wanda inside. “Of course, we still host the new kids until they are, but for you, you’ll get to pick a permanent bunk!”
They cross the threshold, into a nicely furnished living room; worn, but comfortable. Wanda does genuinely try to pay attention, but Scott is talking so fast, it’s like being blasted with a fire hose. She meets a few more of her… cabinmates.
(She can’t think of them as her brothers- she has a brother, his name is Pietro. Which it seems is a popular choice for a name in this cabin, as she meets both Parker and Quill back to back in quick succession)
She can quickly see why, beyond their abilities, she and Pietro had instantly been pegged as Hermes kids. All of the people in this cabin share Pietro’s sharp nose, upturned eyebrows, and mischievous smiles.
(Though, Wanda doesn’t look like them. But she and Pietro never looked very similar either; the curse of fraternal twins.)
There are fewer girls than boys, but Wanda is still able to find help in picking a bunk on the girl’s side; Makkari is kind, fast, and somehow Wanda instantly learns sign language to talk to her, as they speak rapidly with their hands and faces. (Wanda had been faintly puzzled about this, until Makkari explained that rapid language acquisition is a Hermes kid thing. Neat.)
Finally able to rest, Wanda hangs up Nat’s jacket on her bed post, and passes out- trying not to think about how she’s got nothing to store in the trunk at the foot of her new bed.
She dreams of her brother. He’s falling, forever.
She can’t catch him.
Wanda jerks awake the next morning, as someone touches her shoulder.
“Well that was easier than I’d thought.” A new voice says above her.
Wanda blinks the sleep out of her eyes, startled, and immediately regrets doing so- there’s a gorgeous girl standing at the end of her bed, and Wanda knows she looks like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
The pretty girl dumps a laundry bag of clothes onto Wanda’s new trunk and glares at her. “Come on Maximoff, I don’t have all day.”
“Who-”
“Jennifer Kale, Cabin 10.” Jen says, studying her nails, painted a pale pink. “We did a collection for you; our cabin always has lots of extras. Get dressed.” Jen turns on a very fashionable sneaker heel and strolls back out of the girls’ bunks, the door swinging closed behind her.
Wanda scrambles, finding herself alone; the sunlight tells her it's already mid-morning, and the rest of the bunks are empty.
They let her sleep in. That was nice.
Ten minutes later, in a new Camp Half Blood t-shirt and black jean shorts, she stumbles into the living room, finding Jen standing there with her arms folded, as she looks at the winged shoes hung in pairs on the wall.
“How long have you been wearing that eyeliner?” Jen looks over at her and wrinkles her nose.
Wanda just shrugs. She doesn’t remember.
Jen sighs, and reaches out to her- her finger tips brush the side of Wanda’s face with a soft pink glow, and Wanda’s cheek tingles.
“Hey!”
“Oh please, I didn’t ruin your goth girl aesthetic.” Jen rolls her eyes. “I just stopped you from getting an eye infection.” Jen pulls a compact out of her pocket and hands it over; when Wanda looks in the mirror, she finds her dark eyeliner restored, re-applied with an expert’s touch.
“Thank you.” Wanda mumbles. “Is that- is that magic I could learn?”
Jen shrugs. “Actually, I don’t know.” She pauses. “Aphrodite kids can just do it, and I’ve never had anyone else bother to ask.”
“It’s nice.” Wanda says, taking one last look at herself and remembers her manners as she hands the compact back over. “Thank you again.” Jen is very bossy, but she seems almost kind- it’s weird but Wanda can work with that.
Then Jen smiles and it's dazzling. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. I’m Jen, and I’m in the advanced magic class, which is where they’ve also placed you. I’m supposed to give you a tour of camp, and then we’ll head over for your first lessons.”
Wanda nods and follows Jen outside, combat boots thumping on the wooden porch.
Jen takes her around, first past the residential cabins, pointing out both the buildings and different campers with their assorted names and titles along the way. The cabins themselves are mystifying; no two are even remotely similar, and as Wanda peers at their windows curiously, Jen tells her it’s rare to see the inside of one that doesn’t belong to yourself or a close friend- the gods can be territorial.
Jen explains the Big Three, and their current children- Zeus’s kids: Thor and Carol. Poseidon’s: Shang-Chi and Xialing. Hades’: Gamora, Nebula, and Yelena.
They’re walking past the explosion of plant life that is the Demeter Cabin, when a voice drawls down from the grassy meadow roof. “How’s it going, leafy green Kale?”
Jen squints up and groans. “Don’t you have, I don’t know, anywhere else to be right now Vidal?”
A girl with wide eyes and wild hair pokes her head over the edge, scowling. “I seem to remember the other idiots going off to chase the dryads-”
“You mean, athletic training with the dryads.” Jen folds her arms.
“Whatever.” Vidal huffs “That sort of seems more like Harkness’s thing than mine.” She reaches out a hand, and a vine sprouts, curling down the roof’s edge and wrapping around her wrist, before lowering her gently to the ground.
Jen frowns. “I thought you two-”
“That’s none of your business, Veggie Girl.” Vidal huffs, and Jen visibly grits her teeth.
Closer up, Wanda can see bits of moss in Vidal’s hair, her camp necklace with six beads on it, and the dirt smudged on her face- despite the elaborate eyeshadow that reminds Wanda of a beetle’s shell, green and shimmery. Vidal turns her unsettling eyes toward Wanda. “What’s this?”
“Rio Vidal, Daughter of Demeter, meet Wanda Maximoff, Daughter of Hermes.” Jen says with a sigh. “Wanda, Rio.”
Wanda opens her mouth to say hello, but Rio’s cocked her head, like she’s listening to something Wanda can’t hear- then she steps forward, leaning in, and takes a deep sniff of Wanda’s hair.
Wanda freezes, glancing at Jen for help; Jen actually growls, and grabs Wanda by the arm, yanking her away from unsettling Rio.
“Why can you not be normal for like two seconds, and not like a complete and total psycho?” Jen raises her voice, sounding incredibly irritated. “Would it kill you?”
“It might.” Rio drawls. Suddenly she giggles, and there’s a sprig of a strange flower in her hand; deep red snapdragons. “For you.” She says with a little bow, handing it to Wanda- who takes it before she can think better of it. Rio spins on a bare foot, and saunters back into the Demeter cabin, still chuckling to herself.
“Sorry about that.” Jen groans, and she plucks the sprig out of Wanda’s hand, tossing it into the riot of colorful flowers beside them. “Most of the Demeter kids are really nice, then there’s that creepy weirdo. I don’t know how Sersi- that’s the Demeter Counselor- puts up with it.” Jen keeps them moving down the pathway, still apologizing, but Wanda’s only half-listening.
(And sulking a little. She had wanted to keep the flower.)
They pass Jen’s cabin (elegant, with a powder blue roof and pale pink door) where Wanda’s warmly greeted by Pepper, the Cabin Counselor, who’s so pretty Wanda thinks she’s seeing things.
“Are you all like that?” Wanda demands of Jen, as they walk away.
“Like what?”
“Beautiful.” Wanda murmurs, while Jen laughs.
“Kinda comes with the territory.” Jen chuckles. “Don’t worry, you get used to it.”
Blushing, Wanda shoves her hands in her pockets, wishing she’d remembered to grab Nat’s jacket from her bunk.
They round another corner; the cabin this time looks more like a round medieval tower, constructed of stone, with a slate roof, and an eccentrically angled chimney poking out of the top, which periodically puffs out violently unnaturally colored smoke.
A pair of torches flank its rickety curved porch, while a triple moon in silver is wrought on the dark wooden door. Sleeping on the sun-bleached wooden stairs is a basset hound- snoring loudly- which wouldn’t be remarkable save for the fact the dog is clearly a ghost.
Wanda stares, and Jen hums, amused. “That’s Bats; he’s Stephen Strange’s- a gift from his mother.” The ghost dog rolls over on his back, continuing to snore. “The Hecate kids really love their familiars- I swear Agatha’s rabbit is a hellhound in disguise, I saw that thing’s fangs.”
“Wait- that’s Agatha’s cabin?” Wanda looks over at Jen, trying not to seem too interested.
“Yeah, she’s like, the strongest Hecate kid; she’d probably be their Counselor if she wasn’t constantly in trouble. Stephen knows it too; it's why they hate each other.” Jen says, a little lower, sharing a juicy piece of gossip. “You’ll see when we get to advanced magic, come on.”
Jen tows her away from the Hecate cabin, and at a rapid rate shows her the rest of camp; while Wanda tries to ignore the stares and whispers of the other campers. They tour the strawberry fields and the pegasus stables, the forge and the armory, archery range and the combat arena, the climbing wall and the volleyball courts, the canoeing lake and the arts and crafts center, then finally the dining pavilion and the amphitheater.
Wanda diligently follows a hurried Jen into the top of the amphitheater, and sees there’s already a couple older campers at the bottom, in the bowl; Jen takes the stairs two at a time down, while Wanda moves more cautiously behind her. As they come to a stop, panting slightly, Wanda looks over the other demigods waiting for them, curious.
“Thought you’d gotten lost there, Veggie Girl.” Rio drawls, lounging on the grass; in her hand is a Celestial bronze dagger, which she keeps twirling and then frowning at- like something is wrong with it.
“Shut it Vidal.” Jen mutters, before taking a seat on the closest long, flat step. “Where’s-”
“Ugh, shit, I’m late again.” A new girl comes jogging in from the side, red streaks in her dark hair. “There was this whole issue-”
“Yes, yes, you love heroics Alice, we get it. Pop a squat.” A voice in front of them drawls, as Agatha flickers into view, her hands in her pockets. Her t-shirt, Wanda is a little amused to note, is still purple.
“Agatha, you are not in charge.” A pale guy with dark hair and the beginnings of a mustache crosses his arms; he looks like he’s the same age as Agatha, with intricate scars covering his hands.
“Oh give me a break.” Agatha pursues her lips. “I’m the lead in the play, so I’m the only reason we get to use this space- where would you have us go, Stephen? The climbing wall?” Her eyes glitter with malice.
Rio cackles, and Stephen’s scarred hands flare with orange light.
Jen sighs, and says, “Cut it out.”
Wanda’s not sure what she does with her voice, but it’s resonant and lovely, and for a moment, all Wanda wants to do is whatever Jen commands.
Stephen drops his magic with a huff, while Agatha snickers. “That was pretty good, Jenny. You been practicing?”
Jen shrugs. “Here and there; normally I don’t have to use it to break up fights, unless you guys are involved. Weird how that works.”
Alice leans over to Wanda, as the bickering continues in front of them. “Hi! I’m Alice Wu-Gulliver, daughter of Apollo. Welcome to Advanced Magic!”
“Thank you?” Wanda says, like a question. “Jen didn’t really explain what we’re doing.”
Wanda realizes they’ve been overheard, as Agatha clears her throat pointedly.
Everyone else settles down, while Agatha starts to speak, pacing back and forth, her voice ringing in a smooth, practiced cadence. “Magic, New Girl, isn’t just words muttered under your breath. It’s emotion, intent. It’s your force of will fighting against the laws of reality; to successfully cast a spell, you have to will the impossible into being- setting yourself against the universe, and coming out on top.”
Agatha stops, and presses a finger to her locket on her camp necklace, her sharp eyes studying Wanda’s face. “My- I guess, our-” She rolls her eyes at Stephen, “-mother says: ‘Magic is neither good nor evil. It is a tool, like a knife. Is a knife evil? Only if the wielder is evil.’”
Wanda can’t help but glance over at Rio, who’s fixated on Agatha, her hands and dagger finally still.
Agatha continues. “There’s a basic magic class that Fury teaches the younger kids, but everyone here has grown beyond the beginner shtick, and needs more specialized training.” She smirks. “Not to mention, all you nerds are really shit with the physical weapons, so the extra practice that our classmates are doing in this time slot is just wasted on us.”
“Hey!” Alice objects, while Jen sighs, nodding, and Rio scowls, brandishing her dagger.
“Alice, I’ve seen you miss shots your siblings can hit with their eyes closed. And Rio, I’d be more impressed if I’d ever actually seen you use that thing.” Agatha yawns dramatically.
“I’m told it’s not the size that counts.” Rio drawls, while Alice and Jen squawk, and Stephen rolls his eyes. Wanda snickers under her breath.
“Don’t encourage them, Maximoff.” Stephen pleads, looking long-suffering.
Agatha smirks at her half-brother, while Wanda notices they both have the same blue eyes, and keeps talking. “I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, New Girl, but it’s tough to be a demigod. All of us magic kids are still here against the odds because we’re survivors; and I for one plan to use every advantage to keep on surviving.” Agatha shrugs. “And if that means I have to hang out with you losers to practice my best skills, then that’s what I’ll have to do.”
Agatha gestures, cutting off any protest to her continued insults. “In addition to being gifted in the mystic arts, each of us in Advanced Magic also has a rare magical talent.” Agatha turns, pointing at Alice. “Now, Alice, tell Wanda about your thing.”
Wanda notices how eager Agatha suddenly sounds; actually interested and invested, not aloof or insulting. She makes a mental note: Agatha really, really likes magic.
Alice sighs. “I got one of the rarer Apollo things; I’m really good at music, I’m shit at archery, and I can, um, curse people. In verse.”
Wanda blinks. “So you what, freestyle at them, magically?”
Alice grins. “Yeah, actually, that’s kinda it. It’s a magical diss track, or power ballad, or whatever.”
“Cool.” Wanda nods, and Agatha inclines her head.
“Jenny?” Agatha prompts.
Jen sighs, and studies her nails. “Well, I can do all the Aphrodite things- the charmspeak, and what have you. And, I’m like, an alchemist. I can brew from pretty much anything, anywhere. Turn anything to anything, you know. Magically.”
Wanda raises an eyebrow, as Alice rolls her eyes at Jen’s nonchalance. “It’s a really rare gift.” Alice says. “Especially for an Aphrodite kid. And her potions are like, legitimately crazy.”
“Thanks.” Jen chuckles. “My siblings really don’t get it; they think I can just make them like, really good serums.”
Wanda wants to ask more questions but Agatha cuts her off.
“Rio.” Agatha glares at the other girl. “Tell Wanda what you can do.”
Rio pushes her tongue into her cheek, and Agatha pinches her own nose. “No, moron. Your magic.”
“Picky, picky.” Rio mutters. She looks over at Wanda, her eyes dark. “You saw earlier. I talk to the plants, they talk back. It’s a whole thing.” She’s casual about it, now toying with a tropical purple flower she pulled out of nowhere.
Alice huffs, and folds her arms. “You have the widest range and the greatest control out of any of the other Demeter kids!”
“I have the greatest power of the Demeter kids, period.” Rio drawls. “What’s your point, Al?”
“Just trying to introduce you to the new girl.” Alice mutters. “Don’t know why we’re all trying to be cool all of the sudden.”
Wanda grins over at Alice, the expression feeling weird on her face. “Don’t worry, I still think you’re cool too.”
Agatha snorts. “Well, just wait until you get to know her.”
“Hey!” Jen’s hand flashes pink.
“Oh, did I hit a soft spot?” Agatha sneers.
“Oh shut up.” Alice folds her arms. “You’re clearly just trying to get someone to hit you, so you can show off.”
“What?” Agatha blinks her big, blue eyes innocently. “Me?”
Stephen lifts up a hand and starts to chant in Ancient Greek, but the words are too soft for Wanda to hear.
Orange energy swirls out of his hands, and around Agatha. She throws her head back in a witch’s cackle, and as the magic touches her skin- it vanishes in a flair of purple.
“Magic siphoning.” Stephen says simply. “Another rare gift.”
Agatha grins. “Want to try me, Wanda?”
Wanda sighs, but if she’s staying here, she needs to establish some kind of tough reputation- that she is not one to be messed with. Trying to catch Agatha off guard, Wanda ignites a hand in scarlet fire, and hurls it at her, fast.
The energy catches Agatha in the chest with an oomph, knocking her down, flat on her ass. Rio makes a noise like a scalded cat, but Agatha stands back up laughing again, holding the scarlet flame in her hand as it rapidly turns violet, then vanishes.
“Interesting.” Stephen says slowly.
“What?” Wanda tries to look cool and casual.
“Normally, spells require words to activate them- even just words said in your head.” Stephen explains. “Longer, complex ones usually need a book or a scroll- unless you memorize it. That’s my thing, by the way. Since no one asked.”
“Ooo, your special thing is that you’re a really big nerd.” Agatha mocks him, twirling her fingers. The siblings dissolve into bickering, while Alice referees.
“Is this how it usually is?” Wanda looks sideways at Jen and Rio.
“Pretty much.” Jen replies, before peering back at Wanda curiously. “Can you do more wordless magic?”
Wanda shrugs. “All my magic is wordless. I didn’t- I didn’t know it was weird.”
“Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.” Rio smirks.
“I don’t think we’ve had a Hermes kid who’s good at magic before.” Jen shrugs. “At least, not in living memory. Maybe yours is different because of that?”
“I guess so.” Wanda murmurs, but she’s unconvinced, looking down at her hands.
The rest of the class passes in a blur; before Wanda knows it, it’s dinner time, and she’s being ushered by Jen and Alice to the Dining Pavilion and its stone picnic tables- she hears Alice mutter something about how there used to be a strict rule about kids having to sit at their cabin’s table, but that it's been relaxed, since the Seven returned the Athena Parthenos.
Before Wanda can ask more, she’s seized on either side by a pair of cheerful hands. “Thanks Jen! We’ll take it from here.”
Wanda opens her mouth to protest, but she’s already being pulled forward by Scott and another girl, one Wanda hasn’t seen before. Seeing Wanda’s expression, the girl grins. “Hi! Darcy, Darcy Lewis. We’re bunkmates now- its nice to meet you, new sister.”
Wanda's pulled over to what must be the Hermes table, and is swiftly sandwiched between Scott and Darcy, who explain how the food works. Wanda gamely has a plate made, but simply moves the food around with her fork, not hungry in the least.
There’s some ritual taking place at the center fire; something solemn about burning shrouds and campers returning.
Wanda doesn’t want to hear it. There’s no shroud for Pietro, because they didn’t know that he existed. Hadn’t known that they’d existed. Something that shouldn’t have been.
Wanda doesn't even have his body.
Didn’t they have a father? Shouldn’t he have known that he had two children he had misplaced?
“Hey, Wanda.” Darcy says quietly. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Wanda says, before she pushes herself away from the table. “I just need some air.”
Darcy looks at her, deep eyes quiet and understanding. “Curfew’s at 10.” She murmurs.
“Thank you.” Wanda whispers, while Darcy nods, and distracts Scott- as Wanda escapes into the dark, walking briskly but aimlessly into the nearby woods.
She’s heard there’s creatures in here, but she’s not worried- one thing that the Hydra didn’t slack on was combat training.
Finally. There’s quiet, and solitude, and a chance to breathe and feel on her own.
Or so she thinks. Because ahead, she hears a very familiar voice, hissing a swear word.
“Can you not fucking do something about the roots?” Agatha complains.
“Maybe watch where you’re putting your feet.” Rio snickers. “Oh, I’m sorry, was that insensitive?”
“Oh shut the fuck up.” Agatha snarls. “Or we’ll see if you still bleed ichor.”
Wanda creeps forward, and peers around a tree trunk- Agatha’s sitting on the ground, pulling her sneakers off with two distinct pops.
“Much better.” She groans, and as her feet slide out, they shift, morphing- growing claws, and dark purple scales. Like the feet of a dragon.
Suddenly, Rio hisses, her eyes flashing green. “We’re not alone.”
Now
Wanda’s back is against the trunk, and the pair of them are glaring at her- Rio’s knife like a shard of ice at her throat, while Wanda tries not to stare at whatever the hell is going on with Agatha’s dragon toes.
“Say it.” Rio hisses. “What am I?”
Wanda glances at Agatha, who is biting her lip trying not to laugh- Wanda would be too, save for the very deadly Stygian Iron very close to her neck. “I take it, you’ve not seen Twilight?” Wanda asks carefully.
“Twilight?” Rio parrots, confused.
“Vampire movie, honey.” Agatha looks bemused. “And I’m still catching her up, the pop culture stuff is really hit or miss.”
“You’re a goddess.” Wanda says carefully. “I think I have a guess, but you know, names have power.”
Rio puts the knife down, slowly. “You aren’t what you look like, either.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Agatha drawls.
Wanda and Rio both fully turn to stare expectantly at Agatha, who is still sitting on the ground with her little lantern next to her- she’s pulled her dragon feet up and is cross legged, looking up at them with exaggerated patience.
“Care to share with the class?” Rio growls.
“Sit.” Agatha orders them both.
Wanda sits.
Rio huffs, folding her arms- but sits too, after a moment.
“Let’s try this again.” Agatha says simply.
“I don’t know why we’re not just gutting her.” Rio snaps.
“I think you mean, why I’m not just gutting her, considering you can’t kill anyone.” Agatha points out. “And to answer your question: I think we can all be of assistance to each other.” Agatha looks over at Wanda. “Setting aside the question of why the hell you aren't at dinner with everyone else- you don’t really think you’ve got the right divine parent, do you?”
As soon as Agatha says it, Wanda knows it's true. “No.” Wanda says simply. “I think- I think it was right for my brother. But there’s something- something is wrong with me.”
“Nothing is wrong with you.” Agatha says firmly. “Now, hold still.” Her eyes glow purple, and she murmurs under her breath in what sounds like Latin, faster than Wanda can keep up.
The clearing around them is suddenly lit with brilliant, scarlet red.
“Huh.” Rio says, looking up above Wanda’s head. “Wonder how they got out.”
“What?” Wanda says, and she cranes her neck, peering up.
Above her, shimmering in red light… is nothing. Agatha huffs, and the red light twists- forming into an eight pointed star like an asterisk, with arrowheads on each end, before dissolving again.
Wanda looks back down at them, non-plussed. “I still don’t get it.”
“Chaos.” Agatha drawls blithely. “Looks like your divine parent was the primordial embodiment of chaos.”
Wanda blinks, still not quite understanding. “Erm-”
“It would explain the random powers. You can probably pull your abilities from the Faded.” Rio muses.
“But my brother-”
“Probably legitimately was a son of Hermes. That’s the part where it’s very sneaky.” Agatha hums appreciatively. “Hermes is one of the most prolific spawners of demigods, and has such a random portfolio, it wouldn’t even be questioned.”
Wanda can’t quite process this- she knows it’s bad, but she can’t wrap her mind around it, so she pivots to the other two. “What about you guys?”
“Oh, me?” Agatha drawls, and wriggles her claws on her feet. “I am legitimately a Hecate legacy. But I’m like 98% sure Grandmother can’t see me.” She grins. “Mother was the daughter of Hecate. My other genetic donor was Clytius.”
Wanda stares at her, jaw dropping.
Wanda had been raised by a Hydra- she knows all about the enemies of the Olympians.
Clytius, the Giant, who was Hecate’s Bane, and specifically designed to absorb the goddess’s magic.
Agatha, with dragon feet, and who siphons magic.
A demi-giant. Something Wanda had never heard of.
“How did that-”
Agatha shrugs, looking far too casual. “I won’t know. Killed the abusive bitch when I was ten; wound up here with the good sense not to let the scales out of the bag, so to speak.” She inclines her head toward Rio. “Your turn. Fess up.”
“I shouldn’t say my name.” Rio says quietly, and she looks almost afraid.
“It’s okay.” Wanda replies, just as soft. “I pretty much figured it out when Agatha said something about ichor. You weren’t lying when you said who your mother is, were you.”
“I don’t lie.” Rio says stiffly.
“You’re the Queen of the Dead.” Wanda whispers.
Rio nods, slowly, her eyes glowing green, brighter and brighter. “I am the Natural Order of All Things. I am the Bringer of Fruit and the Exactor of Justice, Herald of Spring and Reaper of Autumn. I am the Dreaded One, the Infernal Queen, Mistress of Avernus-”
“-you are trapped as a teenage girl, and you have no idea why.” Agatha interrupts.
“Really. You couldn’t even let me have this one thing?” Rio complains, resting her chin on her hand- the echo of her divinity fading.
“Nope.” Agatha pops the p.
“How did you two even figure this out?” Wanda points back and forth at the pair of faux demigods in the flickering lantern light.
“Oh, I clocked her in about ten seconds.” Agatha shrugs. “Part of my entire deal is I’m super clear sighted. Illusion spells just go slurp against the ol’ noggin, and I can see true forms.” Agatha makes a slurping sound as she grins. “Hard to hide anything from me, even if you don’t know it yourself.”
That would explain why Agatha was staring at her.
“And I smelled Gigante blood on her in those same ten seconds.” Rio says dryly.
“So naturally, we tried to kill each other that first night.” Agatha continues. “Imagine trying to murder a ten year old, at her big age.”
“I literally thought you were a Gigante assassin, out to kill me as a part of an elaborate plot.” Rio retorts. “Not to mention, I also looked like a ten year old.”
Wanda has a sudden flash of a pair of girls, both doing their best to murder each other, rolling over and over in a ball of awkward limbs and tangled hair.
“Clearly, no one succeeded.” Wanda points out.
“I hadn’t recovered any of my abilities.” Rio defends herself.
“I was actually ten, and there was no magic to siphon.” Agatha rolls her eyes. “After no one killed anyone else, we decided it was probably better to talk it out. So we did, and voila! Mutually assured destruction.”
“You, I get why the secrecy.” Wanda looks at Agatha, before turning to Rio. “You, on the other hand-”
“I still don’t know who did this to me.” Rio says simply.
“Wait, what?”
“I woke up in the woods, a couple of hours north of here, with few of my memories and none of my powers.” Rio explains. “My father has done this to my uncle and half-brother before, with cause. But never to me, and never for no reason.”
“Do you think it was him? Or do you think it was… someone else?” Wanda gulps. There’s only a handful of immortals who would have the power to do this, without drawing the wrath of the rest of Rio’s family.
That list, however, does include other members of Rio’s family.
Specifically her mother.
Or her husband.
Rio inclines her head, seeing what Wanda’s implying. “That’s what I don’t know. The last time I went missing- my mother starved the Earth. I had always assumed- that if I went missing again- my husband would open the gates of the Underworld, and my mother would probably overreact in the same way. Again. Between them both, it would be an apocalypse.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “Neither of those things has happened. It’s like they don’t know I’m gone.”
Wanda blinks. “Is there one or the other you could ask? Confide in?”
Agatha snorts a derisive little laugh as Rio shakes her head. “Um. No.”
Wanda frowns. “Don’t they love you?”
Agatha really cackles this time, and Rio rolls her eyes. “I am an object to be won between them. When I am with him, she sulks and starves the world. When I am with her, he creates more offspring to populate his cabin here, but doesn’t tolerate it if I take lovers of my own.” Rio pulls her knees up to her chest, and looks impossibly small. “If that’s what love is, I guess they love me.”
Wanda looks over at Agatha- whose face is hard in the lantern light.
Wanda imagines there’s a similar look on her own.
"There's also serious risk that one is fomenting a war against the other." Agatha mutters, shaking her head. "If she goes to the wrong one, they could trigger that apocalypse. Or worse, if she accidentally confides in the god who did this to her, wipe her memory and send her off again."
Rio looks a little less wilted now. “It's why I don't kill, so the souls can't tattle- and I avoid his children here. I’m well hidden among my many little siblings in my mother’s cabin.” Rio worries her lip.
“It’s my spell.” Agatha volunteers proudly. “Her mother and her husband can’t see her while she’s under it.”
“That’s- that’s incredible.” Wanda whispers.
“I know.” Agatha flicks her ponytail back, squaring her shoulders. “Seriously though, enough of this tragic backstory bullshit- dinner will be over soon and we need to get back.”
“Are you going to turn me in?” Wanda asks, glancing between them.
“Absolutely.” Rio deadpans.
“Just as soon as we figure out how to erase the last half hour of time from your mind.” Agatha grins, shaking her head. “Don’t be stupid, of course not. You might be the missing piece of the puzzle that we need.”
“Puzzle?” Wanda raises an eyebrow.
“Here we go.” Rio mutters.
“This can’t be a coincidence.” Agatha says, and her toe-claws ripple in agitation. “My existence, Rio being trapped, the return of the Faded- and now the half-blooded child of a primordial appears? The very first one?”
“You don’t know that.” Rio murmurs. “I could have just done something wrong. Broken a rule.”
“I don’t believe that and neither do you.” Agatha shoots back.
“Wait, what return of the who?” Wanda looks between them.
“Lilia is just one of them.” Agatha counts off on her finger. “There are more.”
“When gods or immortals drop out of mortal memory, they Fade.” Rio explains more helpfully. “We Fade. Back into-”
“Chaos.” Wanda murmurs.
“Yes.” Agatha says simply. “The first and the last. A being and a place, residing beneath the depths of the Underworld.” Agatha wriggles her eyebrows. “One who hasn’t spawned a new offspring in eons.”
“And now, here you are.” Rio hums. “A new chthonic daughter.”
“And what exactly do you think the Olympians are going to do to you, if they realize that you’re here?” Agatha hums, tapping her lips. “Probably not going to be terribly happy. You’re a powerful threat to the very foundation of the family tree, aren’t you honey?”
Wanda swallows heavily. Agatha’s right, but that felt mildly like a threat; she's really confusing. “I also can expose you.” Wanda postures, trying to look intimidating.
“Exactly.” Agatha leans forward, her eyes sparkling. “So, tomorrow night, we meet back here. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
Wanda looks at her. “We are?”
Agatha shrugs. “We have to, don’t we? Hang together, or hang, separately.”
Wanda looks over at Rio, who shrugs. “Are you in?” Wanda asks.
“Sorta have been.” Rio drawls. “If anyone’s gonna figure it out, it’s her nosy ass.”
“Stop flirting with me, I can’t take it.” Agatha smiles with all her teeth.
“Fine.” Wanda folds her arms. “What did you say? Mutually assured destruction?”
Agatha starts to wrestle her dragon feet back in her clearly enchanted sneakers, but it's a struggle, even as she grins. “Wanda my dear, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.”
Wanda sighs. And silently leans over to help- as at the same time, Rio takes Agatha’s other foot. Together, they shove Agatha’s shoes back on, and together, walk back out of the forest.
Wanda might have just found something new to live for.
˖⁺‧₊˚✦
merry trickmas @the-scarlet-witch-22, i hope you like it!! It was an interesting creative challenge aging the characters backward but keeping their voices; I think I succeeded?
I got absolutely lost in the sauce, and, typically, there's a lot more lore than I got around to adding (for example, the roman demigods are the DC superheroes), so feel free to ask questions in the comments!
trickmas 2025, day three, for @yelenaslightchangeofplan -(au, rated M for crude language/Florida typical behaviors, crack taken with academic gravity)
truly the silliest thing we're doing this trickmas, yet somehow not the silliest thing in the list of prompts @yelenaslightchangeofplan gave me. you're welcome, everyone else.
Long time readers will recall, I am, myself, a Florida woman, so know what I say, I say with all the affection (and Agent Orange) in my heart: Florida is both the worst state in the union (suck it New Jersey), and also a strangely compelling one. At once a microcosm, of not only the US, but also the other countries that surround the Gulf of Mexico; most Floridians will tell you that the state should at least be three states, minimally. Or about twenty different micro-nations.
The only reason that this has not yet happened is because some nerd did the numbers, and discovered that if Orlando became its own nation-state, everyone else would bankrupt in under a week (This is what happens when you have no income tax). Thus, Florida hangs on- here for a good time, not a long time; half the state will be consumed by the sea in the next century (Miami is basically New Atlantis), while the other half is affectionately referred to as "God's Waiting Room", due to its heavy population of senior citizens.
Florida is where some people come to live, and where many people come to die.
Hence: the state of chaos is actually a remarkably good fit for the Coven of Chaos. Meet me below, where I will identify where everyone would be from- assisted by my Knowledge of Florida, and illustrative examples from my personal bible: 30 Rock.
"Now just like any penis, Florida is very complicated."
Note for my international readers unfamiliar with my home state: 30 Rock dunked on Florida with a remarkable, venomous, and personal accuracy. Whatever we did to Tina Fey, I'm sorry and also you're welcome. Here's a good article to catch you up on the Florida 30 Rock jokes
Rio Vidal would be from the Everglades
Of all the wilderness and strange things in Florida, nothing would appeal more to Rio than the primordial thunderdome that is the Everglades.
Already a horror show- home to massive Florida predators such as the American alligator and the American crocodile, who fight each other for survival- in the last century it’s turned into a full-out, all-comers-welcome melee, as invasive species (mostly from Miami) were imported as pets, and then released into the Everglades when they became too much to handle.
Which is why there are now anacondas eatings alligators, hoards of iguanas, and tens of thousand of Burmese pythons slithering all over the place- having found a perfect home. It’s like the age of the dinosaurs never ended there; a perfect place for Rio to call home. She’d drive an air boat, she’d run python hunts (they’re legal all year round), she'd secretly have a PhD in biology from Miami, she’d scare the shit out of people trying to dump animals off into her swamp. The place swarms with life- and teams with death.
Lilia Calderu would be from Tampa
Patti LuPone also did multiple guest episodes on 30 Rock, fun fact.
Lilia was a fairly successful psychic in Jersey her entire working career (along with her several many side hustles), thanks to her uncanny ability to cold read and her hobby of reading actuarial tables.
At a certain point, those winters start to wear on her old bones. So she moves to Tampa (Bayshore Gardens, specifically)- a city with plentiful sunshine, a lot of other Sicilian-Americans (immigrants and descendants alike), the lowest number of hurricane landfalls in Florida (suspiciously low, feeding into local myths about protections stemming from Native American burial grounds), plenty of mildly successful sports teams to bookie for, and the best thing of all: plentiful, rich marks.
Lilia does very well there. Eventually, she buys into a local Sicilian restaurant, and she enjoys Sicilian cuisine made with Gulf Coast seafood, and watches the sunset every evening from her deck of her new boat: the Wheel of For-tuna.
Billy Maximoff would be from Orlando
"Central Florida is dominated by Jewish retirees, serial killers, and secretly gay Disney princes."
Billy gives such strong Orlando vibes- a gay theater kid, with two immigrant parents and a jock twin brother; it's the stuff Orlando dreams are made of. His mother and father naturally were drawn to immigrate to Orlando (although specifically, they live in Winter Park), as, alongside Miami, the city draws the highest number of immigrants, in a state where one in five people are from another country.
Billy works at Disney during the summers, Tommy at Universal. They both go to UCF, because they want to stay close to home after the premature death of their father (accident on I-4)- for their mother's sake.
Eventually, Billy becomes an author, writing eccentric and creative stories about the sun-bleached cocktail that is Orlando, capitalism, and tourism; he's broke until he hits it big on the NYT best sellers list, but he still refuses to move to New York. Someone has to make sure his mother stays afloat, and Tommy's in the middle of qualifying for the US Olympic track team.
Alice Wu-Gulliver would be from Gainesville
"It's 4:30 in Florida. Your fans should be waking up on a beach or getting fired from their telemarketing jobs right about now."
Lorna Wu, like many hippies of her generation, settled in the cheap central Florida swamps and springs- specifically near the town that grew up around and with the University of Florida (the place where Gatorade was invented!).
Gainesville (Alice is technically from Micanopy) and the surrounding area have a rich music culture (shout out to Tom Petty and like half of the Eagles) so Alice, as a bonafide ACR (Alachua County Resident) would have grown up in the rock and counter-culture soundscape; going to music festivals, dodging her mom's groupies- normal rock star kid stuff.
If she still wanted to be a cop like her dad, she'd have done criminal justice at Florida, and maybe stayed in Gainesville, determined to help out the kids just trying to figure out their lives. On the weekends, she'd turn a blind eye to her mom, her hippie friends, and their growth of a local delicacy: the Gainesville Green.
Jennifer Kale would be from St. Augustine
Jen is from St. Augustine, born and raised- and is immensely proud of being from the oldest city in the US, (Agatha: No it's not! Jen: Continuously! Agatha: WE'RE SIX YEARS OLDER. Jen: THERE WAS A GAP.) as well as a descendent of the first free Black settlement in what would be the United States, at Fort Mose (founded in 1738).
Jen loves her beautiful, historic, perfect little gem of a city- and both despairs of, and concedes the need for, the damn tourists. Jen went to Flagler (natch), and after getting her degree in business administration, set to work.
Kale Kare is a very bougie tourist trap, set off of King Street, where Jen upsells "bespoken" "elixirs" from "Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth", but in the most goop way possible. She is: very successful, but only offline; the shtick doesn't work as well if Jen isn't there to charm the customers. Nonetheless, Jen uses a percentage of her profits and reinvests them in her community, with an eye toward preserving St. Augustine's role in the Civil Rights movement.
Agatha Harkness would be from Pensacola
"These people don't like being told what to do, they just want to sit on the beach and drink."
Untrusting, scam-y, resourceful, persistent, deeply individualistic, the belief that the rules are more like suggestions than guidelines? Will pay more (if any) in taxes over their dead bodies? Shoot first, ask questions later? Agatha (like this author) would also be from the Panhandle (She tells people its Pensacola, but its really Pace).
Agatha's father died in Desert Storm, and her mother never forgave her for it (Note: Agatha was two at the time). Heavily influenced by the nearby Bible Belt, Evanora becomes a Baptist religious zealot- while Agatha, fermenting in the heady combination of US military-inspired survivalism, Mardi Gras hedonism, and the cantankerous culture of people who refuse to die of various disasters, manmade (Agent Orange in the groundwater) and natural (hurricanes), turns 18 and splits.
She scams her way up, down and around Florida's big bend; she likes it here- the loose laws and constant influx of people (via immigration and plain ol' death) means that if a scheme is blown, she's just got to wait a while before the population resets. She's got a few vindictive exes she's skipped out on (Jen in St. Augustine, Billy's mom in Orlando, Rio in wherever her airboat currently floats), but its not a bad life. She plans to retire down to the Keys; the old, independent, and fiercely queer culture down there suits her just fine, and is a startling contrast to the repression of where she grew up.
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@yelenaslightchangeofplan asked for: If Agatha characters were from Florida, which city would they be from and why (ik you love your Florida lore)
Thank you for your attention. I will be taking no questions (joking, y'all know I love questions), but if you're a fellow Floridan, I'm happy to engage in our favorite pastime (fighting) in the comments.
I am very grateful for this community of lemon-haters and deranged witch enjoyers; you guys make life worth suffering. In honor of the year-end holidays, my esteemed mutuals, and the continued failure of my enemies to kill me, I'm doing a celebration of the most important birthday in December: mine.
Please see below the schedule for trickmas; lucky 13 days of requests ranging from deeply serious to tentacle hentai, including things I've never written, things I rarely write, and the ol' reliables. No spoilers as to what is what.
12/5- wrong number (agatha/wanda/rio) @angry-heard
12/6- dead ball (rio & tommy) @ennn
12/7- what if the coven was from florida? (coven of chaos) @yelenaslightchangeofplan
12/8- elmsfeuer (agatha's most explosive breakup) @florencebirdsong
12/9- tell me what's next? (agatha x reader) @caroldantops
12/10- proportional response (agatha x rio) @isagrimorie
12/11- ??? (agatha x wanda) @the-scarlet-witch-22
12/12- don't threaten me with a good time (agatha/rio/wanda) @thiswildernessismyhome
12/13- 2100 fathoms (agatha x val) @oh-a-cute-lesbian
12/14- members' only (coven of chaos) @likea-black-widow-baby
12/15- breakfast for dinner (agatha x wanda) @amatterofcomplication
12/16- death, be not proud (rio/wanda) @not-so-secret-nerd
hi beta. you don't have to post this, but you should know the bullies of twt and their cult who run off multiple authors from the fandom and encourage hate to be sent to authors are talking about your fic and sending the link to people https://x.com/aquariusbutch/status/1995026677731398033
these people seem to unable distinguish between reality and fiction and that writing smth =/= condoning or liking something irl
That's how I know I've made it in a fandom when I start getting hate!
It's cool though, I already have them blocked on Twitter anyway (and yes, I unblocked them and saw they made a post about ME already blocking them 😂).
I've never interacted with them; people love their sad little lives I guess!
Regardless, I'm not going anywhere with my writing and if people don't know how to separate reality from fiction then I feel really sorry for them.
unfortunately not uncommon in any fandom these days but definitely have generally noticed the "main" part of the AAA fandom cant just kinda. mind their own business about fics they dont like. ive seen people clutch their pearls about even less "extreme" (for lack of a better word) examples than your fic
theres a reason that when i wanted to write an agathario origin fic i made a separate account from this one so people wouldnt come bug me over my fics here...
also this is just kinda
contradictory
"you can write bad things but you cant write THAT bad thing"
you know i have a tumblr, right? and people let me know if i’m actively being shit talked. yes, i think writing erotica of child rape is wrong. fucking sue me.
also, i never even publicly mentioned who did it until you answered an anonymous ask about my tweet. there are people with twice the following i have posting screenshots of your accounts before i even tweeted but I’M the issue? no, the issue is people fucking targeting me and obviously stalking my account so they can spread misinformation. thank god i paused my NGL link because god forbid i get told to kill myself again. which is what happens when you assholes do this, btw.
people who find CSA porn triggering deserve to know there’s someone in the fandom writing it so they know who to mute, block, and just overall avoid. if you want to write genuinely heinous shit no one is going to legally stop you, but people deserve to know you’re doing it so they can act accordingly. you were all gung ho calling people dick suckers on twitter a few hours ago. what happened?
If people are properly tagging things, which the author did, there should be no issues. No one is forcing anyone to read these fics.
“People deserve to know you’re doing it so they can act accordingly”
Again, if someone is properly tagging something on ao3 and following the guidelines for ao3 then they are following the rules and individuals, like myself, who are triggered by topics like that are able to act accordingly. If anything one could make the argument that going out of one’s way, as some people have been doing, to complain and describe the story in great detail on public platforms is actually doing more harm.
What happened to keeping negative remarks about authors and other unbecoming comments to the DM’s or groupchats?
