• Malcolm: I lost the love of my life because of this child. How can I raise him?
  • Blue: You can be a good father to him. Just try. He needs a name, you know.
  • Malcolm: Ugh, fine. What's a name a kid would hate? Rumplestiltskin! Yeah, he'll get picked on for sure!
  • Blue: Well, this seems like the start of a great parent-child relationship that I'm sure won't backfire in any way. Great job, me!
7

“We were not brought here to be made citizens. We were brought here against our will. We were not brought here to enjoy the constitutional gifts that they speak so beautifully about.” -Malcolm X

“Malcolm’s whole entourage was infiltrated with police. He may have had as many police as he had regular folk in his entourage, under cover.” -Van Jones

[From the film “13th” on Netflix]

anonymous asked:

can you write/ link some percabeth fluff from an outsiders point of view? i loooove those fanfictions:)

i kind of bent this one to fit because this drabble has been sitting in my wip folder for like half a year. anyway, i’ve always been interested in Malcolm’s character so this is his PoV in a few points over the series. hope it suffices

 … .

i.

Malcolm Warner has seen his sister through many things. As she has seen him.

He still remembers arriving at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bleeding and bruised, and being directed around the Camp by the blonde-haired young girl already with a few beads strung around her neck. She had been confident, almost arrogant, but clearly proud of her home as she’d told him all about Camp Half-Blood and the gods and their mother. Malcolm had respected her straight away, and despite her being a year his junior, he had looked up to her as a leader. Annabeth Chase had been brave, strong, smart; everything he had wanted to be.

ii.

He walks into their cabin at the beginning of his second Winter Break at Camp Half Blood to find Annabeth sitting on her bunk staring at the wall. He sits down next to her and asks her if she is okay and she shakes her head mutely. She scrubs at her cheeks where a few tears have fallen and he nudges her shoulder and tells her it’s okay, she can tell him, he can keep a secret.
And for some reason, she tells him.
“I thought I was okay,” she says, “with Luke betraying us. When I was in San Francisco these past few months I hadn’t thought about it so much, but now that I’m back here… He was the one who brought me here, him and Thalia. I thought we were a family but…”
Malcolm takes her hand and squeezes. “We’re your family, Annabeth.” And her smile is so so sad and so grateful that his heart feels like a fist has tightened around it. He feels like an older brother. Like family.

Just a few weeks later Annabeth makes it home after being captured by the titan, Atlas, with new grey streaks burned into her hair and a new weight added to her still young shoulders. He had walked onto the porch of the Big House and gone straight up to her. He puts his arms around her and feels her momentary surprise, feels her slowly relax into his embrace and wrap her arms around him as she tucks her chin over his shoulder. He had feels her cheek against his as she smiles, and he wants to protect her from the worst of things.

iii.

He walks into his cabin one day and finds Annabeth in the embrace of another boy, one who is not her brother, but a son of Poseidon. He feels a strange older-brotherly protective instinct to separate the pair, but more prominently, the satisfying little click in the back of his mind that says finally. The whole camp has been watching these two kids fumble around each other for the past two years, fighting for and against each other. Malcolm clears his throat - so awkward - and bites the inside of his cheek as the two teenagers spring apart like wild salmon, their cheeks blossoming like red petals in the sun. They both stammer something about maps and Malcolm tries not to laugh at their awkwardness. One day, he thinks, they’ll figure it out.

iv.

He stands next to Annabeth on the beach as she tells him how she had escaped the Labyrinth; how she had met Daedalus and been given the greatest possible gift; how Luke had been there and his eyes had burned gold and his mouth had uttered the words of another. How Percy Jackson had told her to run, how she had kissed him and left him. How she could kill that boy for being so damn heroic and so damn stupid; but she hated herself even more for leaving him. Malcolm holds her hand and pretends not to notice her wipe the tear from her cheek.
He comes back, that stupid heroic boy, and Malcolm certainly doesn’t miss the moment Annabeth launches herself at Percy and doesn’t let him go for a long time. He’s not sure whose cheeks are pinker when she finally does.

v.

Malcolm is there when his sister finally kisses that goofball. He’s one of the people who throws them into the lake and waits for them to resurface; he’s also one of the first to give up and realise that they probably have no intention to do so and Percy is more than well enough equipped to keep the two of the down there all night if he wants to. He doesn’t quite keep them there all night, but it’s well past midnight when Annabeth finally sneaks back into the Athena cabin, clothes dripping on the wooden floorboards as she tiptoes to her bed.
“Good night, Annabeth,” he whispers as she passes the end of his bed.
She gasps. “Shut up, Malcolm.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Shut. Up. Malcolm.” He can’t see her face but he’s pretty sure she’s smiling anyway.

vi.

Percy goes missing three days after Malcolm’s eighteenth birthday. Annabeth tears the camp apart looking for him and all Malcolm can do is watch as she storms from cabin to cabin, trudges through every corner of the woods, kneels on the deck of the lake and begs the neriads to help her. It’s a full week later, after three mysterious new demigods have shown up at the camp with tattoos and blessings from Hera, that Malcolm sits down next to her in the busy Pavilion. She has a plate of food in front of her which she plays with idly, poking her potatoes with her fork and not even feigning an interest in eating them. Malcolm nudges her with his elbow and drops a bag of jelly beans on her plate.
“How nutritional,” she comments.
“Well, it’s better than poking your potatoes.”
She sighs and opens the packet, popping a blue one in her mouth and chewing morosely.
Malcolm looks at her. “We’ll find him, Annabeth.”
She stares at the candy in her hand and shakes her head. “What if he’s hurt?” she whispers, and it’s the first time he’s heard her talk about Percy without yelling since he disappeared. She looks at him and he can see the sadness in her eyes, the genuine fear. “What if he needs help?”
He puts his arm around her shoulders and tucks her to his side, like he might be able to shield her from some of this pain. “It’s gonna be okay, Annabeth,” he tells her, because he doesn’t really know what else to say. “We’ll find him.”

She does, find him, that is. And there’s still fear in her eyes, one he thinks she might need some time to recover from. But she holds onto Percy’s hand as they sit around the campfire and Malcolm also sees hope. He hears Percy telling her that of course she has to go with him to see him mom, and he realises she has more than one family now. And that’s okay, it’s amazing actually. He remembers the little girl he met, with a jutted chin and fierce eyes and no family, and looks at his sister now, laughing with her whole face and fire behind her eyes with her hand in the hand of the boy she loves, and he thinks he might just be proud of her. Proud to be her brother.

9
Firefly | forever in our hearts
I hear its song without a doubt
I still hear and I still see
That you can’t take the sky from me