#and just everything else he did for Percy like its no exaggeration to say that it was Nico's efforts to find a way around the prophecy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

timelesslords · 3 years

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Can u pls write a percabeth fic where Percy and Rachel are dating and percabeth are best friends and they end up spending the night together and it's been a week and they don't know how to tell Rachel and Rachel being bitter ?? Pls

This was kind of out of my comfort zone in terms of what I usually write lol but I tried my best!! I imagine this as like a mortal college AU :)

send me a prompt!

“Beth, you can’t walk home like this,” Percy said, exasperated.

“I’m fine! I’m hardly even drunk,” Annabeth said, trying (and failing) to quash the butterflies in her stomach when he called her Beth. Percy, having been her best friend for almost a decade, was the only person in the whole world who was allowed to call her that. He only pulled it out in rare situations, and every time he did Annabeth would swear her heart skipped five consecutive beats.

Not that he could ever know that, of course. Now felt like a more precarious situation than most-- she’d come over to his dorm so they could watch a movie together, and had ended up curled up together on his bed around his laptop. In fairness, his dorm was tiny and there was nowhere else to sit besides his bed, but if Annabeth imagined really hard she could pretend that it had all been completely intentional, and he was sitting this close to her because he wanted to.

“Hardly?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. And, fine. Annabeth had had… an amount to drink. A non-zero amount, some might say. More than Percy, and she had a way lower tolerance than him. She was buzzed, sure, but not buzzed enough to walk back across campus to her own dorm.

“I’m fine. It’s barely twenty minutes,” Annabeth protested. She started to stand up, but Percy gently tugged her back into the bed. She should have put up more resistance than she did, but, well. Who could blame her.

“It’s also three in the morning and you’re drunk,” Percy said, “Come on, just stay the night.”

“Stay where? Grover’s bed?” Annabeth asked, repressing giggles at the thought. It wasn’t really that funny a thought, but, well, she was tipsy.

Percy’s roommate was gone for the night to visit his girlfriend, leaving his bed empty. Grover was a cool guy, but he also had a weird tendency to leave soda cans just about everywhere, including in his bed.

Percy just rolled his eyes. “No, here.”

It took Annabeth a few seconds to realize exactly what he was saying.

“In your bed?” Annabeth asked, hesitantly.

“We’ve been sitting on it together all night,” Percy pointed out.

“Yeah, but…” Annabeth trailed off.

It was different. She knew it was different. And frankly, any other time she’d be absolutely delighted that Percy was offering that difference, but there was also the issue of Percy’s girlfriend. Percy’s girlfriend, who he’d met their freshman year and hit it off with despite the fact that Annabeth had been in love with him since she knew what love was. Percy’s girlfriend, who was in another dorm on campus not ten minutes away, not here but also not not here.

“But what?” Percy asked. There was the tiniest bit of a smirk on his face, and Annabeth shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“You know what,” she said. Maybe it came off a little more seriously than she’d meant, but he didn’t seem to care.

“It’s not like we’d be doing anything,” Percy said. Annabeth tried not to feel hurt at how foreign the concept of “doing anything” seemed to him in relation to him and her. But she didn’t have any right to feel any type of way about that, because she and Percy were just friends and Percy had a girlfriend who was not going to be happy about Annabeth spending the night in his bed, regardless of which activities did or did not take place there.

“Yeah, I know, but its just… I don’t know, don’t you think Rachel will be mad?”

“You’re staying here because you need a place to crash. She can’t be mad about that.”

“I’m pretty sure she could find something to be mad about,” Annabeth muttered, mostly to herself. Percy heard her though. They were sitting so close their shoulders were touching, so it would have been a miracle if he didn’t.

“Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor. She can’t be mad about that,” Percy said, actually making to get up like he was about to lie down right there and then. It was Annabeth’s turn to pull him back onto the mattress.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re not sleeping on the floor in your own dorm room,” Annabeth said, “Besides, she’d just say I kicked you off your bed.”

Maybe Annabeth should’ve kept that last bit to herself, but she’d never been very good at hiding her feelings about Rachel. Percy sighed, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it.

“Well I’m not letting you sleep on the floor,” he said stubbornly, despite the fact that Annabeth hadn’t even suggested it. She had to bite back a laugh at the indignant look on his face.

“Percy, I was never going to sleep on your floor. I was going to go home,” she reminded him.

“Well I’m not letting you do that either,” he said, “So I guess you’re stuck in bed with me, unless you want me to spend the night on concrete.”

“You’re so goddamn annoying,” Annabeth grumbled.

“Does that mean you’re staying?” he asked. His expression brightened considerably at the prospect, and Annabeth had to physically force herself to calm her heart rate down.

“Well apparently I don’t have a choice,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes, praying to every god in the universe that she wasn’t blushing.

“Right,” Percy said, putting on some exaggerated confidence, “Obviously. So am I taking the floor or the bed?”

Annabeth knew he would sleep on the floor in a heartbeat. If she told him that she was uncomfortable being in his bed with him, he would gladly spend the night on cold concrete in the middle of winter in a dorm that had, frankly, terrible heating.

But she wasn’t about to make him do that. And if she was honest with herself, being in bed with him was the opposite of uncomfortable.

“The bed,” she sighed. Percy grinned triumphantly.

“I knew you wouldn’t make me sleep on the floor,” he said, and Annabeth finally let herself laugh.

“Yeah, because I told you so twice.”

“I think it’s because I know you so well, actually,” he said, finally closing his laptop that had been playing the movie earlier, and setting it on his bedside table. They’d turned the lights off earlier, and without the soft glow of the computer screen the only lights in the room were the faint street lights outside.

The bed was just a regular old twin, with not much space for either of them. That was why they were touching so much, Annabeth reminded herself. Just that. No other reason. He just put his arm around her shoulders because it was more comfortable that way, that was all.

It was late, and Annabeth was drunk, so falling asleep was easy. But she’d be lying if she said Percy didn’t help with that too.

***

It’d been a week since Annabeth had spent the night at Percy’s dorm, and they hadn’t talked about it at all.

She’d woken up the next morning completely hungover, and also with her and Percy’s limbs completely tangled together. The bed they’d shared was small, but it wasn’t that small.

Percy, of course, had acted like it was nothing. He’d teased her about her bed head and she’d half-heartedly teased him back about his morning breath, and then she’d packed her stuff from the night before and made her walk of shame back to her dorm. Except it wasn’t even a proper walk of shame, because they hadn’t actually done anything.

He hadn’t brought it up since, like it had been no big deal at all. Annabeth wished she could be so lowkey about it, but it was the only thing she’d been thinking about that entire week.

They’d already planned to meet up at the end of the week again, only this time in a group setting. A group setting meant Rachel was going to be there, and Percy might think their little sleepover hadn’t been a big deal, but Rachel was definitely not going to share that opinion. Annabeth was honestly dreading facing her so much that she considered bailing at least ten times. In the end, she decided that she had to just suck it up— she was going to have to face Rachel at some point, it might as well have been now.

All that to say Annabeth was a little surprised when she showed up at the party, only to find Rachel acting completely normal towards her. She was irritated towards Annabeth, but that wasn’t unusual. Rachel was always irritated towards Annabeth, and Annabeth was always irritated towards Rachel. But Rachel wasn’t pissed at her like Annabeth expected her to be. She wasn’t even not pissed, she was downright cordial.

All it took was one look at Percy for Annabeth to confirm what she already knew. He hadn’t told her.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, grabbing Percy’s arm and pulling him down the hallway. Rachel was going to be pissed at her for that, but Annabeth didn’t care. Percy followed along without complaint, not even bothering to shoot Rachel an apologetic look.

The hallway was empty, or as empty as a hallway at a college party could be. The music was loud enough to cover up their conversation, anyway.

“Did you not tell her?” Annabeth asked, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. Percy immediately looked guilty.

“You don’t know that,” he said, as if everything about both of their demeanors hadn’t given it away instantly.

“Of course I do, she wasn’t absolutely furious with me,” Annabeth hissed. Percy looked, if possible, more guilty than before.

“Okay, fine, I didn’t,” he admitted, “But what’s the big deal? It’s not like we did anything.”

And there it was again, those two little words and the way he said them, as if anything happening between the two of them was an impossibility. It felt like a dagger straight to the heart, but Annabeth ignored it.

“I dunno,” Annabeth said, “I mean if I was your girlfriend, I think I would want to know.”

Percy had choked on his drink halfway through her statement, and was already coughing before she could finish it.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked, alarmed. Percy just shook his head.

“Fine,” Percy managed to choke out, “I’m fine.”

“Am I going to have to heimlich you again?”

“Hey, you promised you would never bring that up again,” Percy said, pointing an accusing finger at her as he coughed again, clearing his throat a few times for good measure, “Besides, I don’t think it works for soda.”

“Fair. But don’t change the subject.”

“You changed the subject first,” Percy accused, in a not subtle attempt to change the subject once again.

“Because I thought you were choking, dumbass. You have to tell her.”

“Why?” Percy practically whined.

“Because the fact that you don’t want to means you know she’s going to be mad about it,” Annabeth said.

Percy groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“Why are you so smart?” he asked. It sounded like a complaint, even though she knew he didn’t mean it that way. It sure felt that way, though.

“‘Cause one of us has to be,” Annabeth sighed.

If Annabeth were smarter, she would’ve never agreed to spend the night to begin with. But it was way too late for that now.

They went back and joined the group, but Annabeth knew Rachel was staring (bordering on glaring) at her the entire rest of the night. She couldn’t even really blame her. She was going to be a hell of a lot more mad at Annabeth once she found out the reason Annabeth had pulled Percy away to begin with.

The very next day Annabeth was in her dorm room, trying to finish a project for her architecture class. It was due on Monday, but she’d been so distracted the entire week that she’d barely even made a dent in it at all. It wasn’t coming together the way she wanted to and Annabeth was three seconds away from snapping her pencil in half and throwing the whole draft away. Before she could, there was a sharp knock at the door.

Annabeth glanced down at her phone, but she didn’t see any texts. Maybe it was the RA doing an inspection, or maybe Piper had forgotten her key again.

But when Annabeth opened the door, she found Percy standing in the doorway. He spoke before Annabeth could even open her mouth.

“So, I told her,” Percy said, with absolutely no context. He knew she didn’t need it. Annabeth found herself gripping the door so tightly she thought her fingers might break.

“You did? What happened?” Annabeth asked, trying not to sound frantic. Why was he here? Why didn’t he just call her? What if Rachel had made him swear to never talk to her again and he was just here to say goodb--

“She asked me to tell her with 100% certainty that I didn’t have feelings for you,” Percy said, impossibly calm.

If Rachel had asked him that, why was he standing in Annabeth’s doorway?

“And?” Annabeth said, voice small. Her heart was practically pounding out of her chest, but Percy just shrugged.

“And, I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t?” Annabeth repeated, just to make sure she had heard him correctly.

“Nope,” he said, easily, too easily, “To be honest, I couldn’t even give her like, 1% certainty, but that would’ve felt a little rude to say.”

“So…” Annabeth trailed off. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. It didn’t make sense in her brain. Percy had feelings for her. And he’d broken up with Rachel, which meant— which meant—

“I think now is the part where you tell me if you like me back,” Percy said, interrupting her thoughts. He was smiling though, like he already knew the answer.

Annabeth did not currently have the mental wherewithal to form words. Thankfully her feet did the thinking for her, closing the already small distance between them and kissing him like she’d wanted to do for years.

“So I take it that’s a yes?” he said with a grin, when they finally broke apart. Annabeth was pleased to see he was a little breathless, at least.

“Shut up,” she laughed.

“Gladly,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again.

#this is so long and the ending is.... it is #i tried yall 😭#percabeth #percy jackson #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #pjo fic #rachel elizabeth dare slander #she truly is not even a person in this she's a cardboard cutout of a person lmao #percabeth fanfic #pining #so much pining

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seattlesea · 3 years

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Why Percabeth Isn’t a Good Ship (Sorry 2x)

I’m definitely getting cancelled-

1. Annabeth is physically abusive. The fandom makes this point seem controversial and debatable, but it’s really not. The definition of abuse is hitting someone. Annabeth hit Percy. Therefore, Annabeth abused Percy. Is that really that hard to understand? Annabeth hit Percy for the first time in The Titan’s Curse when she, Percy, and Thalia were looking for the di Angelo siblings. She punched him in the gut when he asked her who he should ask to dance with him. Annabeth knows that Percy can be oblivious at times...but punishes him when it benefits her? The second time was in The Mark of Athena, when she judo-flipped him because she missed him. That’s...what?? Usually when people are worried about someone else, they hug or kiss them, not flip them over their shoulder. And yes Annabeth kissed him first, but the judo-flip was completely unnecessary. Annabeth punished Percy for ‘leaving’ her despite him being kidnapped and his memory wiped. And everyone’s like ‘But Percy didn’t feel any pain!!11!!1!’ The chapter wasn’t in his point of view, so that claim is a guess. Just cause he didn’t say ‘Ow’ doesn’t mean he wasn’t in pain. Also- Annabeth slammed him on a stone pavement on his back. That definitely hurts, even if Percy is a demigod, physically strong, and has gotten hurt a lot. There’s a difference between ‘playful hitting’ and actually hurting someone. Yes they trained a lot, but this isn’t training. This is Annabeth punishing Percy for being traumatized with yet another life-threatening quest and being kidnapped. I don’t remember Percy judo-flipping Annabeth after he saw her again when she got kidnapped in TTC. Besides, the Romans were about to take out their weapons when they saw Annabeth attack Percy, so if all of them thought it was an attack...it was most likely an attack. Even Annabeth said herself “I only attack my boyfriend like that”. The thing is, if it was Percy who flipped Annabeth over his shoulder and slammed her on her back or punched her in the gut, all the fans immediately would’ve freaked out and cancelled him, calling him a horrible and abusive boyfriend, but because it’s the girl hitting the guy, it’s fine apparently. Nothing wrong with it, right? And then Riordan (and the fandom) had the audacity to romanticize that abuse. Abuse isn’t a sweet, romantic gesture. Stop making it seem like it is. That’s disgusting.

2. Annabeth is also verbally abusive and toxic. Annabeth canonically lowered Percy’s self-esteem, constantly insulted him and his intelligence despite knowing he was insecure about it and always getting kicked out of schools and getting bad grades (even with her so-called ‘endearing’ name for him ‘Seaweed Brain’), and the overall idea of Percabeth is a super smart, pretty girl making a guy with below average intelligence feel insecure about himself. Percy’s self-esteem has plummeted since he met Annabeth and her behavior is never called out or even noticed, which implies some manipulation going on. Annabeth is shown to be extremely capable of manipulating her enemies and anyone else she pleases, and there are quite a few signs she’s using it against Percy (his feelings of obligation, fear, and guilt of and over her, questioning himself, having strings attached, always only thinking of her and no one else in his life, etc.), especially since Percy begins to gradually stop noticing Annabeth’s wrong and toxic behavior as the story progresses.

3. Annabeth only likes Percy cause he’s the chosen one. Annabeth only hung around Percy since The Lightning Thief cause she thought he was ‘the one’ and so she could finally go on a quest. She literally used Percy to go out to the mortal world and ‘prove herself’ cause really, all she cares about is glory, which is shown multiple times throughout the series with all her pride and ambitions. Plus the fact that Chiron made Annabeth swear on the River Styx that she would keep Percy from danger is a pretty clear sign she didn’t stick around him just cause she wanted to, but because she felt obligated to and cause it would benefit her. Take all of this and it’s kind of obvious Annabeth only hung around Percy cause he was the chosen one of the prophecy, a son of one of the Big Three, and was destined to go on multiple quests and play a big part in the mythological world, which is what she always wanted since book one.

4. It was forced. Since the beginning of book one, it was so obvious that Percy and Annabeth were going to get together that their relationship ended up being boring, dull, and flat. Riordan made it so obvious they were going to be a couple that nothing that happened to their relationship really mattered, cause everyone knew it would work out in the end (which is probably why everyone *wrongly* hated on Rachel) so what happened in between didn’t matter. Their relationship was the typical ‘male lead and female lead’, ‘bad boy trouble-maker skater and nerdy good girl’ power couple that was way too clear. And Riordan made it worse by pushing their relationship and shoving it into the readers’ faces way too much. In MoA Annabeth states that she’s always had a crush on Percy (since they were twelve) which immediately rips all the development their relationship (which was supposedly ‘friends to lovers’, but not anymore) had away. Riordan made up a bunch of honestly dumb scenarios that were legit cringe to make Percabeth seem like ‘OTP’ that really didn’t make sense.

5. It ruined their characters. Percy and Annabeth would’ve been way better off as just friends. After they got together in HoO, all their personality and everything else that made them independent was destroyed to make room for more ‘Percabeth’. All of Annabeth’s skills, bravery, intelligence, pride, ferocity, judgmentalism, and all the other traits and flaws that made her a well-written character were never utilized or even mentioned. All she thought about was Percy, and the same goes for him. His loyalty, sarcasm, humor, obliviousness, etc. disappeared to make room for arrogant Annabeth fanboy. In PJO, they were amazingly well-written and great role models for younger readers (especially Annabeth), but in HoO their characters were exclusively ‘Annabeth’s boyfriend’ and ‘Percy’s girlfriend’. Their characters were completely dependent on each other, and they were way better off as just friends.

6. Annabeth is way too possessive. And creepy. It’s fine and honestly normal for people to get jealous when another person likes someone they do, but Annabeth’s jealousy was downright creepy. Not only did she not know if her feelings for Percy were reciprocated or not, but she also didn’t know if Percy and Rachel liked each other, either. The very first time she met Rachel she immediately hated her. That’s not ‘I’m jealous cause this girl likes the guy I do’, that’s ‘I’m jealous cause the guy I like has another female friend’. She had no reason to believe that Rachel and Percy liked each other and has no say in who they can like, either. She thought that she and Percy absolutely had to be in a relationship and that he couldn’t even have friends with different genitals than him. And remember when Annabeth literally stalked Percy in The Sea of Monsters? Like when she creeped by his window, constantly watched him, and kept tabs on him just cause she ‘couldn’t find the right time’ to tell him something cause he was ‘never alone’ despite him being alone multiple times and despite the fact that she literally could’ve just knocked on his door like a normal person instead of creeping around his cabin and staring at him through the windows? Again- switch the roles. If it was Percy who was stalking Annabeth, everyone would’ve immediately called him a creep. If- according to Tumblr and almost everyone who read Twilight- Edward is a creep for stalking Bella, then Annabeth is a creep for stalking Percy.

7. It’s mostly fan love. Honestly, the fandom is the only thing that fuels Percabeth. Riordan just destroys it. He shoved it down the readers’ throats, forced it way too much with really dumb and honestly unrealistic scenarios, and made it abusive and toxic. On its own, Percabeth freaking sucks. The fandom’s version of Percabeth is 1000x better than whatever the hell Riordan was doing, but even that version is toxic. Like, I’ve seen way too many jokes about Annabeth hitting Percy (as if abuse is hilarious and amazing meme fuel and not an extremely sensitive topic that triggers multiple people who actually went through it). Half the time, the fandom fixes Percabeth and the other half of the time they over-glorify and ruin it. The fandom over exaggerates and over glorifies it way too much. It’s not that great of a relationship, to be honest. Most of y’all only like it in the first place cause Riordan made it canon.

8. It was cringey. Like I said above, Riordan wrote some really dumb scenes for Percabeth. I mean- the matching gray streaks in their hair despite Atlas and Artemis not getting any? Percy’s tie to the mortal world while bathing in the River Styx being Annabeth and not his mom, Grover, etc.? Percy only remembering Annabeth, the girl he’s only known for four years and not his mom, the only woman who actually cared for and took care of him or Grover, his best friend who protected and continuously cared about him? Percy turning down immortality only for Annabeth and not even bothering to mention the pain of leaving behind his life, friends, family, memories, etc. behind if he accepted it? The romanticized judo-flip? The whole ‘dark-haired rebellious bad boy/nerdy blonde good girl who can be bad’ trope? Even the boring predictability of Percabeth is cringe.

9. It’s a bad influence on younger readers. Basically the lesson of Percabeth is ‘Once you get a love interest nothing else in your life matters’. Besides that one single scene that took like three lines in The Son of Neptune, Percy never even thought of his own mom, nor did he think about any of his friends or passed allies like his dad, Rachel, Grover, Paul, Silena, Luke, Ethan, Bob/Iapetus, Tyson, Calypso, Charles, Michael (whose death he accidentally caused), Bianca, Zoë, etc. Even when in Tartarus with the curse of the Arai being forced to remember all the people he forgot and feeling guilty about abandoning Bob and Calypso, all he thought about was Annabeth. Even when faced with the man who broke the heart of the girl who sacrificed herself for him, Percy didn’t even think of her, only his jealousy of Jason. Same thing with Annabeth. She never thought about her mom, Luke, Thalia, her step-mom or step-brothers, etc. It was all about Percy. Cause yes, Riordan, that’s exactly the lesson you should teach your younger readers- forget everyone you ever knew the moment you get a partner. Besides that, it also teaches readers that being rude to people who like the same person as you is completely okay cause no one will care and once you start being rude, bitter, and possessive you’ll get exactly what you want (that’s literally what happened, with Annabeth and with Calypso, too). He also teaches that after you get a partner, everything that makes you you will disappear and you’ll be completely dependent on them and nothing in your life will matter, even your own independent life and personality.

10. The fandom tries to excuse and explain Annabeth’s behavior??? What??? Since when does explaining and excusing hitting people put you in the right again? And the excuses aren’t even good, too! Percabeth fans use- Annabeth was full of emotions/mad and doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. Annabeth really loved Percy. It was only one time. Annabeth was worried about Percy and mad that she left him. Annabeth didn’t mean to hurt him. Annabeth didn’t know what she was doing cause she was full of emotions. ??? Annabeth was full of emotions/mad and doesn’t know how to deal with emotions- Annabeth was seventeen years old, the daughter of the wisdom goddess, and is supposedly the smartest character in the series who is shown to be extremely good at reading people and their emotions. And y’all are really trying to say she doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions? Annabeth really loved Percy- SO? A mother might really love her child, does that excuse her for hitting them for dumb reasons? It was only one time- actually, it was twice, and so what? If someone was slapped across the face ‘only one time’, does that mean they weren’t abused? ‘Abuse’ doesn’t mean ‘hit constantly’, it means ‘hit’. If someone was hit, they were abused. Is that really not a known fact in this fandom? Annabeth was worried about Percy and mad that she left him- last time I checked, people didn’t hit others when they were worried about them. If I was worried that my friend was going to get hurt, I wouldn’t hurt them myself. That literally makes no sense. And again- Percy didn’t leave Annabeth. He was kidnapped. Do y’all not know the definition of that, either? Annabeth didn’t mean to hurt him- yes, cause that’s why she decided to flip him over her shoulder, slam him on a stone pavement on his back, and punish him for ‘leaving her’. Annabeth didn’t know what she was doing cause she was full of emotions- Annabeth??? the daughter of the wisdom goddess??? not knowing what she’s doing??? huh??? I mean, would any of you really, legitimately try to use any of these dumb excuses to excuse a man from hitting his wife? Hopefully not. And if you did, you would immediately get hated on and legit cancelled. So what makes this any different? Also- I see the excuse ‘Annabeth didn’t know Percy lost his Achilles Heel and thought he was still invincible’. Under different circumstances I’d accept that, but Annabeth knew that Percy’s Achilles Heel was on the small of his back...BUT SHE SLAMMED HIM ON HIS BACK. If Percy hadn’t lost the Achilles Heel, Annabeth literally would’ve killed him. Abusive enough for y’all? Or is attempted murder excusable and still ‘OTP’?

11. They had no chemistry whatsoever. Was I the only one who felt...absolutely no chemistry between Percy and Annabeth? Like some of their moments were cute, their friendship was really good, and they had a lot of potential, but they didn’t feel right for each other. Remember- opposites don’t attract (they just argue, and no one has ‘another half’ that needs to ‘complete them’, everyone is their own person), they cancel each other out. I mean, Reyna and Annabeth had more chemistry in that one chapter of the New Rome tour in MoA than Percy and Annabeth had in 12+ books. They’re just...not right for each other, I guess.

I’m definitely getting cancelled-

Edit 2: Sorry if I offended anyone with that last note. Just wanted to let y’all know that I am not here to start any drama, hurt anyone, or disrespect any Percabeth shippers. I respect your opinions 100% and only ask you do the same for me. Like I literally only wrote this at 12 am when I was bored and had nothing else to do and couldn’t sleep (same goes for pretty much everything else I write about PJ). Besides, why argue and start drama over dumb stuff like that when we can just find something we agree on? Don’t like Piper McLean? Let’s talk about that. Think Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano is a queen? Let’s talk about that. Think Nico di Angelo is freaking amazing? Let’s talk about that. Think Theyna would be adorable? Let’s talk about that. Want someone to vent to about writer’s block? Why the hell not? Want random writing advice and tips for writer’s block? Sure, I got plenty. Instead of arguing and starting beef over trivial fictional ships.

#sorry #not really but whatever #percabeth isn't that great #stop acting like it is #it aint otp #percabeth is toxic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #annabeth sucks #ship #ships #heroes of olympus #demigods #anti-percabeth

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

Text

Pure Blood 20 (Sirius Black x F!Oc)

A/N: Omg,I can't believe we're already in chapter 20, the good is coming

Words: 1,760

Masterlist

Chapter 19 / Chapter 21

Sirius

Yesterday

"You owe me some chocolate frogs, Padfoot," says James, lying down on his bed.

"I don't think so, Prongs. That bet wasn't fair, how could I know that bird was going to attack me?”

"Maybe because you threw rocks at him," adds Peter, and I wince.

Remus enters the room then, the boy walks in with a huge smile all the way to his bed, takes off his sweater and sits on the mattress in front of mine. The three of us are silent as we watch him, waiting for some other reaction. I told them what had happened with Persephone, omitting the fact that he was crying and… the hug.

James sits on the edge of his bed and looks at Remus.

"And well?” That makes him react, but his smile doesn't fade.

"Hello guys. How’d it go? ” I frown.

"Good," says Peter. "But I think it was better for you," he says, trying to joke, but James throws him a shirt to quiet him down.

“Yes, you're right, Pete. It was better than I thought,” Remus replies, slightly red.

"How was your date with... Trixie?" I say, trying to control myself. His face flushes even more.

“I know you don't like her, Padfoot, but I did well, she's a very- wait, how did you know that?” The spell seems to have broken.

"Someone told me,” I lean against the wooden pillar of his bed and cross my arms.

“Oh. Well… yes, it was great, we have many things in common and–”

"Remus, I love you and you know it,” James interrupts him before he gives the details. "I think you're the smartest of the four, but right now you're being an idiot." Remus looks at him confused.

“Are you on his side too? C’mon James, they don't even know her…”

“Listen," I reply. “I may not be the best person to say this, because of my stupid decisions, but…” I approach him. “Why did you leave Persephone?”

"What are you talking ab-" His eyes widen "Holy shit!” He hits his forehead.

"There it is, he finally realized," applauds James.

“Shit, I was supposed to go with her.”

"Didn't you really remember?" I ask.

"No shit, I'm the worst person in the world," He says as he gets up. "I have to talk to her…” He opens the door, but before he could get out, I grab his shirt and he turns.

"It's late, Moony, talk to her tomorrow.”

He sighs and nods, before closing the door a meow stops me. A small cat’s sitting in front of our room.

"How strange…” I don't pay attention and close the door.

"Surely she hates me," he complains.

"No, she's just upset," I say without thinking and he watches me.

"You talked to her?" He asks surprised and I feel shivers run through my body.

"Eh, yes, something like that, she seemed annoyed.”

"I'm an idiot.”

"We agree on that," adds James.

"Okay, now tell us, how did it go with Trixie?" Peter asks and I complain covering my ears.

"I don't want to know what you do with the devil!”

Night came as we argued and joked.

———————————————————————————

Today.

"Does that mean I now have an excuse to hit Snivellus?" I ask, patting her red hair.

"I thought you didn't need one to do it," Lily replies, blowing her nose.

"I need it, now I can say that it was for your honor.” My words make her laugh.

"I still can't believe our friendship is over," she says as she sits down on the floor resting her head on my shoulder.

"Welcome to the Club,” I say sighing.

"I don't think we're in the same club, Persephone," I frown.

"What are you talking about?”

"I know you’ll deny everything, but your relationship with Sirius has changed, you don’t argue like before.”

"That's because of the truce, you know about the plan–“

"If you say so…”

"Anyway, do you want to go to the lake to eat? I'm hungry,” We get up at the same time.

"Surely everyone knows now what happened," she says, wiping her tears away.

“Let them think what they want, Lily. You can't force them to never talk about you, the only thing we can do is ignore them, but if someone dares to hurt you, rest assured that you have a whole group of bodyguards-”

She laughs. "Who would say that after so many fights, we would become friends?"

I Sigh. "Yes, everything is out of balance…”

I feel a chill when I remember the hug with Sirius, but I don't say anything.

We both walk to the large dining room and just as I head over to the Slytherin table, she stops me and offers me a place at her table.

"You want the balance to fall apart, right?" Lily rolls her eyes.

"Don't exaggerate, come on," she says. We sit down with her friends, they all ask if she’s okay and Lily only answers that they will talk later, I’d also be uncomfortable with something like that.

We ate and talked about everything, the relationship with them was friendly, we are not best friends, but I’m comfortable, everything’s better when Jenna joins. After a few minutes, I was already preparing to leave, but a new person stopped me. Trixie sits across from me with a huge smile.

"May I speak to you, Persephone?" I clench my teeth.

"No thanks, I want to live," she giggles, causing a chill.

"Always so funny! But I think it's important that we talk, it's about Remus.”

I raise an eyebrow.

"Did you kill him already or what?" I feel a pinch on my left arm and I complain looking at Lily. Then I sigh. "What do you want?"

"Oh no, I meant talking in a more private place,” She looks at the girls. "I don't want to offend them, it's just that this is a bit embarrassing topic…”

"Don't worry, Persephone will go with you" Jenna says giving me orders. I grimace and get up.

We both leave the large dining room and walk a few hallways.

“Here. I don't intend to be in a secret place where you can hide my body without witnesses.”

She sighs but keeps smiling.

“Listen, I'm not stupid, I know that since the last time we saw each other many years ago, things were not right. But you have to understand that we are no longer girls and I don't think I deserve your bad attitude.”

Well shit. I was not expecting this.

"Still, I don't expect us to be as close friends as before, I know you have your group and I have mine, but our paths are perhaps coming together again," She adds, blushing a little. "Remus is a very cute boy and I don't think I've ever had such a strong connection with anyone, he listens to me and-"

"Stop there I- I don't want to know,” I stir uneasily. "I was supposed to go with him to Hogsmeade yesterday, but he left me standing because of you.”

"I know.”

"And it's not fair- wait- you knew?"

"Yes. He’s quite sorry. When I saw him at the entrance of the school, he was very happy and we started talking, he never mentioned that he was waiting for you, I found out later I- I'm sorry.”

"What?" This I was really not expecting it.

“I’m very sorry for what happened, if I had known… sorry, Persephone. What I least want is to give you reasons to hate me.”

On the one hand, I am very surprised, and on the other I don’t know whether to believe her. Before I could reply, Remus reaches our side.

"Percy, can we talk?"

They both look at each other and smile for a few seconds, but then they came back to me.

"What you did to me, Lupin, you’ll have to compensate. Trixie,” She waits anxiously. “May it never happen again.”

"I promise," She says, smiling, "I'll leave you alone, see you, Remi." She kisses his cheek and leaves.

"I'm really sorry. I completely forgot- it wasn't on purpose- I know what you think, but I'm not like Sirius,” He speaks so fast that I barely understand, so I cover his mouth with my hand.

"Okay, I accept your apology, but I warn you that if it happens again, I will not hesitate to turn you into a worm, understand?" He nods and pulls my hand away.

"So you're not upset anymore?" I shake my head.

“Remus," I say nervously "Do you really like Trixie?"

The boy blushes and runs a hand over his hair.

“Yes, I think so…”

I sigh.

“Just… be careful.”

—————————————————————

"What will you wear for the big party of important people?" Jenna asks surprising me.

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," I shrug. "My mother will surely send me something. She wants to control everything.”

"At least she has good taste," I nod. "I understand why you like going out to the gardens so much, it's relaxing," She says, lying down on the grass.

Suddenly a small orange bird perches on the book that I put aside. I laugh and look at the animal. Its colors are very bright, I have never seen a bird like that.

"Hey, how do you feel about the whole Trix and Lupin thing?" Adds my friend.

"I don't know, it's weird.”

"Wait, odd that it's with Trix, or that Remus has a girlfriend?"

“Girlfriend? No. Ha! No.”

Jenna laughs out loud.

"What is so funny?"

“You're jealous!”

"What!? Of course not!”

“Yes you are!”

"No, don't say stupid things. I'm only worried about him, Trixie is a bad person -or at least she was- agh! I don't know, but I'm not jealous, I don't see Remus as more than a friend.”

"Hey, it's not bad that you like Lupin, actually, of the four I like him the most.”

“Stop."

"I'm just saying, don't be mad," She says defending herself.

"I can't see Remus that way,” I bend my legs and rest my chin on my knees.

"You would make a nice couple," She adds, making me growl. “Although, I've seen progress with Black…”

"Do you want to stop pairing me with all of them?"

"Hey, it's not my fault! You have a history and somehow, we always end up talking about one of them.”

"I wish I could meet someone else…”

"That would break Lupin and Black's hearts."

"Jenna!"

My scream causes the bird to fly away.

Taglist:

@treestarrrrrrrr @siriuslysirius1107 @thagreenmoon @madmaiden2890 @ren-ela @avipshamitra @auroraawrites @findzelda @lizlil @siriusmuch @chloe-geoghegan1 @reverse-hxlland @may-rapp @the-specific-oceans

@bloodorangemoonlight

@littledeadgirlwalking

#Harry Potter #Sirius Black #Sirius Black x reader #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Lily Evans #Pure Blood #Harry Potter fanfic #twoidiots writing

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al-in-the-air · 4 years

Text

Not now, but soon. Chapter 2

Read on AO3 - or read below.

Enjoy :)

The common room was, to his great relief, completely deserted and entirely unchanged in the time he had been gone. Gryffindor tower still stood in all of its red and gold glory, cosy and inviting with its familiar soft armchairs, thick throws and mahogany wood furnishings; a magnificent room once associated with inexplicable comfort and warmth and sunlit days in which Harry had never felt less at home.

Despite his solitude, he still took every measure to remain unseen. Draped in the invisibility cloak and curled up in the most secluded arm chair, Harry sat quietly bouncing his leg, illuminated only by the dying embers of last night’s fire.

He’d been right, Kreacher was more than willing to go and fetch his master food and had even sunk to his knees in uncharacteristic gratification of “the sacrifices and bravery Master Harry had shown.” This did nothing but make Harry ragingly uncomfortable and prompted several minutes of dread fuelled panic to plague his head. There would be more of this, more hand shaking, more shoulder slapping, and more declarations of appreciation that he absolutely did not deserve. Because this was his fault. All his fault.

Thankfully, the elf was extremely quick in procuring the meal, if not slightly overzealous with the selection he offered, and so Harry wasn’t left alone with his ruminations for too long. The tiny elf apperated back into the common room with no less than seven trays of breakfast foods circling him, looking incredibly pleased with himself as they magically settled on the coffee table.

“Kreacher did not know what Master Harry would want and so he has brought some of everything,” the elf explained unnecessarily. He wasn’t exaggerating, every breakfast food Harry could think of was right there in front of him, heaped high in true Hogwarts fashion. There were sausages, bacon, toast, black pudding, hash browns and eggs cooked every way imaginable; the sight alone made Harry’s stomach rumble in anticipation. “Kreacher did think of treacle for his master, but Master Harry must not have such things for breakfast.”

“Thank you Kreacher,” Harry said, a twinge of bemusement tugging at his lips.

“Does Master Harry need anything else from Kreacher?”

Harry, already with a mouth full of eggs and toast, was unable to speak, but hummed in appreciation and shook his head.

“Well then Kreacher thinks he will go back to the kitchens and help the other house elves. Master knows where Kreacher is if he need him,” and with a bow and crack he was gone.

It was still odd to hear Kreacher speak like this, with genuine politeness as opposed to distain and Harry almost thought of Sirius and what he would have thought of the drastic change in character. Almost. He instead managed to catch himself just in time, shake his head and focus his attention on nothing except the spread in front of him and the dull agony around his ribs.

The pain in his chest peaked with every movement as even raising a fork to his mouth caused him to flinch and groan audibly. Despite the common room remaining empty and the fact it only enhanced the pain further, Harry remained tightly wrapped in the cloak, taking comfort in the familiarity of the material and the safety of being invisible. It was a slight challenge to eat like this and occasionally a disembodied hand or two would slip out, lifting sausages or bacon into an unseen mouth.

Unfortunately, eating hadn’t made him feel better at all. The energy it took to lift his arm up and down seemed disproportionate to the task and he wasn’t sure he could actually taste any of it anyway, he was just mechanically lifting his fork from the plate to his mouth, chewing loudly, swallowing and repeating with whatever was nearest to him. He felt nauseous but he didn’t want to stop. The absence of Kreacher or throbbing in his torso to distract him would mean Harry would alone with this thoughts again and it was already taking all of his effort to just concentrate on the food on his plate and not on the storm raging in his head.

Ultimately, he was glad for the distraction when he noticed the rumble of footsteps above signalling bodies descending the stairs and heard rather than saw that it was Ron and Hermione, their frantic voices yelling his name down the spiral staircase.

“Yeah?” Harry shouted back, still with a mouthful of food, reluctantly revealing himself to the world again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ron demanded, stumbling down the last step in haste to reach the common room. He was breathless and clearly distressed as his eyes sought out Harry, who was still half wrapped in the invisibility cloak, an odd image of floating limbs.

“Eating.” He replied obviously, gesturing to the small feast still in front of him.

“You prat,” Ron grumbled, though visibly relieved as he and Hermione collapsed into the sofa opposite Harry. “Stop running off on your own all the time! We woke up and we didn’t know where you were.”

“Sorry,” he said genuinely bewildered. “I just didn’t think you’d appreciate Kreacher waking you up.”

He hadn’t even considered that Ron and Hermione would worry about him but now his brain was filled with images of an empty bed and panicked friends and he instantly felt like a dick for not considering it sooner. Of course they were worried, the last time he had wandered off on his own he’d done so with every intention to die.

Suddenly all he could think about were the flashes of the forest, of his mum and dad, Remus and Sirius, a conversation with Dumbledore and the cries of those who had already lost so much, forced to watch a lifeless Harry be presented like a trophy in Hagrid’s arms. The images came without permission and once again he was watching the vivid eruption of green light on red hair and almost holding hands and the ghost of a laugh to rush his vision as if he were watching them happen, again and again and again, right where he sat. His chest had constricted, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was no good trying to banish the names of the dead from his mind this time. If anything, they seemed to grow louder with every attempt to silence them.

Remus. Tonks. Fred. Dead because of you. Remus. Tonks. Fred. All dead, all you. Your fault. This is all your fault. You asked them to fight for you and they died. How many more have to die for the boy who lived. This is all your fault. This is all your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

“Harry?”

The voice seemed to pull him back to his senses. Hermione was studying him with that irritating look of concern she had, eyeing his shaking hands knowingly. “Are you okay, Harry?”

He glared at her. “Yeah, fine. What were you saying Ron?”

“Just reckon we should go find the others soon.” Ron mumbled, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth without fully finishing his sentence.

Harry reached into the pocket of his robes and threw the marauders map to Ron, who opened it and scanned over the pages between mouthfuls of food. Hermione still looked like she was going to press on and Harry had the abrupt urge to get up and leave. He didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t going to talk about it. She opened her mouth at the same time as Ron, and any further questions died in her throat as he announced “Hospital Wing” and sprayed the table with crumbs.

It was Mr Weasley who greeted them ten minutes later, after Ron had finished eating and the trio wandered down to the familiar Infirmary.

The walk down had taken longer than usual, owing to the amount of wreckage that had yet to be cleared, constantly blocking their path and preventing them from going on, ultimately forcing them to turn back. It was miraculous really that, despite everything around him bearing damage, the foundations were intact at all.

Once again, Harry had insisted on keeping the cloak on, though it really wasn’t necessary. The castle was utterly still but his mind hadn’t been. Every step he had taken was permeated with names and faces, a mantra to the sound of his footsteps.

Remus. Tonks. Fred. Colin. All dead, all you. Your fault. Your fault. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Colin. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

“Did you all manage to sleep?” Mr Weasley asked, leading them through the doors.

“A bit.” Ron replied, looking around the surprisingly empty room. “Where’s Mum?”

“She took George and Ginny home a few hours ago.” The father replied, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“And the others?”

Mr Weasley smiled softly and simply squeezed his hand tighter. “Don’t worry, they’re all fine. Charlie is just getting the once over, Percy nipped back to his flat to get some clothes and Bill and Fleur have just left, they were helping me speak to McGonagall about the, er… arrangements.”

A heavy silence filled the air. Of course there would be funerals, loads of them, how selfish of him to not think of this sooner. Harry wondered if they would be like Dumbledore’s and where everyone would be buried. There had been so many bodies in the great hall last night, would he have to go to the funerals of all of them? He didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to. He couldn’t show up knowing they’d died for him. That this was all his fault.

Your fault, your fault. Dead because of you. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Colin. All the rest. All dead, all you. Your fault. This is all your fault. You asked them to fight for you and they died. They are dead because of you. This is all your fault. This is all your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

Hermione was watching him again, so intensely that he found it hard to look at her. He tried to smile but it came as more of a grimace. Thankfully he was spared any more of her concern as Ron gestured for the pair to follow him and his father to a makeshift waiting area and it wasn’t long until Charlie had joined the group, taking up the seat on his father’s other side and welcoming a sideways hug.

“Ah” Madame Pomfrey sighed, “last but not least. Go on, pick a bed”

Harry tried to protest, say that he was fine and didn’t need looking over, but it was futile; he had unwittingly winced as he stood, betrayed by his own pain. Ron and Hermione led the way to the three nearest beds while Harry tried to swallow down the bile that had risen in his throat. She was going to see it, the scar on his chest. She couldn’t, he wouldn’t let her. Yes, he needed his rib fixing, he was in agony, but he really didn’t want anyone seeing his chest like this. No one could know.

He tried to think of a way out of it. He hoped he could get away with telling her he was fine, but no such luck, Madame Pomfrey was already conjuring hospital robes and telling them to change.

“Honestly Ronald, am I really going to let you watch me get undressed?” Hermione tutted, waving her wand to shut the curtains around her.

“Yeah, n-no, course not. Sorry!”

Ron was seen first, then Hermione, each of them hissing and groaning loudly as their wounds were healed. It only took a few minutes each, but the anticipation had Harry’s legs bouncing and hands twisting.

He couldn’t think of any way he could convince Madam Pomfrey to not look at it, and just when he was thinking he could just out right refuse to let her when she entered, and his resolve vanished.

“Come on Potter, you should know the drill by now. Kit off.” She’d said the same thing to Ron, Harry had heard him jokingly reply. When Harry didn’t move, she continued. “I’ve seen it all before Potter.”

He did know the drill and with a heavy sigh and heavy arms, Harry did as he was told. Kicking up a fuss would only alert the others anyway.

Lying back on the bed and closing his eyes tightly, Harry tried to stop his hands shaking as the matron waved her wand over him and promptly began healing the remaining burns and minor cuts over his arms and legs. She’d poured dittany into gash on his leg, almost making him scream in pain. Some of it hurt badly, some of it didn’t.

She then moved her focus to his chest, still black, still scarred and gave a soft sigh. “That’s some serious spell damage you have there, Potter” Madame Pomfrey said quietly. “I really think you should get checked out at St Mungo’s by the specialist te-“

“No.” Harry had said firmly, far more viciously than he had intended. “I’m fine” he lied, “honestly. They’ll be busy enough as it is. I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few days.”

The matron looked at him with the same pitying concern that Hermione had had earlier, but didn’t press, instead she nodded and continued working.

His ribs were mended the next second, he was unsurprised to find it still hurt to breathe.

“I really should insist that you go to St Mungo’s.”

“I don’t want anyone else to know about it. You can’t tell anyone.” Harry implored, his voice low and quiet.

“I won’t” Madam Pomfrey promised and took a step away from the bed. “You’re all done.”

Harry nodded and reached for his clothes, not waiting for her to leave before throwing his shirt back on. He was jumping off the bed and halfway into his jeans when he heard it, a faint “thank you” added in a sincere whisper.

He wished she hadn’t. He didn’t want thanks, why could no one understand this was all his fault?

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

Harry followed shortly after, fully dressed and somewhat mended.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

“Right, home now I think.” Mr Weasley said, placing his hand on Charlie and Ron’s shoulders.

“Alright?” Ron asked, turning his head but not moving away from his father.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

“Yeah,” Harry lied again, because he was, or he would be. “All fine.”

#hinny fanfic #Hinny #Or it will be #Harry Potter #harry potter fic #nnbs #HP Fanfic #Harry Potter fanfic #post-war hinny #Post war harry #angst #RIGHT THIS BOY HAS GONE THROUGH A LOT #HES NOT HAVING FUN #OOPS #SOZ

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mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years

Text

Decaf Coffee

Something very self indulgent I wrote basically for myself and @spiky-lesbian

Part of my modern AU Percildan series, Black Coffee

Warning: discussions of trans male pregnancy

-----------

It started as a series of small realisations. Alone, they were just moments passing by, it was only when Vax thought about them all at once that things made sense.

It was the way Percy would only cry over a film if it included a family, particularly if there was an emotional reunion at the end. It was how he’d linger in the clothes sections of stores, finding an excuse to hang back amongst the children’s clothes, smiling at racks of mini dungarees and shoes that looked impossibly tiny for any feet. It was how he’d eagerly make plans with Molly and Caleb, only to spend the whole time hunkered down on the floor with their son and daughter, happily playing any role they gave him in their imaginary games.

And it dawned on Vax at the most random time, when he was stood in the doorway that lead to the en suite, watching as Percy stretched out across the bed. He just looked so peaceful in that moment, lying on his stomach, hair sticking up from the shower.

Vax just stood there and let it sink in that he had his whole life ahead of him with this man. He’d signed for him and everything; he had the ring to prove it.

And maybe it was that thought, that idea of the future they had together, that knitted those dispirate moments together in a way that made sense.

Still tasting peppermint toothpaste on his tongue, Vax padded over and curled up next to Percy, wrapping his arms around him.

Percy laughed softly as he turned to embrace him, hand slipping down and resting lightly where his oversize college rugby jersey ended and Vax’s thigh began, “Finally come to join me, darling?”

Vax nodded, “I was just thinking.”

“Oh?” Percy’s lips softly met the crown of his head. Vax was notoriously clingy, the way he immediately anchored onto him like a drowning swimmer to a life preserver wasn’t worrying but there was something in his voice, “Would you like to share what you were thinking about?”

His husband seemed to pause, exhaling softly before he murmured, “You want a kid, don’t you, Freddy?”

Percy stopped, his mind running through the long list of things he’d been expecting before that question. And it wasn’t even a question really, it was a statement, a question mark only put at the end for grammatical correctness.

He opened his mouth to say that he’d never thought about having children before, that it wasn’t something that had entered his mind. An oversight, maybe, given that they were approaching their first anniversary but not something that he’d considered.

But the words wouldn’t come. Because it was in that moment that he realised they weren’t true.

“I...I suppose I do,” Percy murmured, after he realised he hadn’t said anything for a very long time, “Though I haven’t given it a lot of thought. Does it... bother you? You seem bothered?”

“I’m not bothered,” Vax didn’t pull away from him, staying tucked up against him like he was a little embarrassed, “I mean, I’m confused. But more about how I feel about it, not about you wanting it.”

Percy’s fingers worked through his hair, enjoying its smoothness after just being brushed, “It’s okay to feel confused. I mean, I didn’t even know I wanted to be a father until now.”

“Really?” Vax looked up then, eyes wide and dark like some nocturnal animal, “I realised before you did?”

“Have you tried to be in my mind, Vax? It’s all blueprints and circuit diagrams up here, I don’t understand emotions,” he rather hoped the joke would undercut the realisation that they were talking about quite serious adult stuff now.

Vax did manage a smile and kissed Percy’s bare shoulder, “I just...I know you and me had shaky relationships with the whole idea of family…”

“Something of an understatement,” Percy said quietly, feeling a very familiar unpleasantness open up in his stomach, the one that followed having emotionally distant parents and difficult siblings for the biggest part of your childhood, only to have them violently ripped away from you and having preserving their legacy be the only thing able to keep you going through your grief. And once that was done, being unsure why you even did it.

Vax had his own trauma. He’d talked about it in the same fits and starts, punctuated by nightmares and sobbing fits, that Percy used talked about his own. Their common language.

He knew he and his twin sister had been taken away from their mother to live with their emotionally abusive father, only to then lose their only source of parental love when their mother passed away. Such a simple way to talk about an event that had shaken Vax so totally, left him unsure of himself, terrified to love anyone for fear they’d be taken away.

Of course the idea of being a father would terrify Vax. As it should terrify Percy.

But it didn’t.

Percy stroked his hand down Vax’s nack, fingers making soothing circles in the tighter curls there, “I know we’ve had some… less than ideal role models. But I think that just makes me want to do it more? I think I want the chance to make some things right. Like it might be a way to heal.”

Vax was quiet for a moment, absorbing that, before he murmured, “I think I want that. Or I want to want that. But I don’t know how to be that brave, I mean I have no idea how to even be a good dad. All I know is… mine. And I couldn’t bear to make someone else go through that?”

Percy shifted down so he and Vax were eye to eye. So close that Vax could see the little indents on his nose where his glasses sat.

“Vax’ildan,” he murmured softly, “You are not your father. You’d never act the way he did because you’re a genuinely good person and you’re kind and brave and brilliant. You’re so good to those around you and you’ve already proven that the things he did haven’t got to you. Part of the reason I’m so sure I want to have a family with you is because I know they’d be getting you for a parent.”

“Oh,” Vax seemed unable to say anything else, doing what he always did when he was confronted with emotions, particularly positive ones about himself, and hiding against Percy.

Percy had to giggle fondly, his own throat a little thick. He rocked his husband gently, waiting until he was ready to unfurl himself and keep talking. Getting through to him when he was curled up so tight like a woodlouse would be impossible.

Eventually he felt him relax a little and Percy immediately took the opportunity to kiss both his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids as delicate as a feather. Soon Vax was grinning in spite of the large red spots of blush on his cheeks.

“Now,” Percy rested his forehead against his husband’s, “I know my words won’t fix everything. And, I do mean this honestly, we absolutely do not have to have a family if you aren’t ready for it. I love what we have right now and if this is what the rest of my life looks like, I’m already the luckiest guy in the world.”

Vax looked tempted to dive again but he managed to just smile thinly and stroke his hand up under Percy’s pyjama shirt, “I… I kind of guess it’s been in the back of my mind when I’ve been watching you brood so much you can see it from space-”

“Kind of an exaggeration…”

“And I guess it’s been...um...what’s that word for the thing coffee does when you leave it a long time?”

“Percolating?”

“Yeah, that’s it. It’s been doing that. And I think I’ve realised I would like to have a kid, even if I’m kind of terrified of the idea. Does that make sense?” he looked at Percy nervously, like he’d just confessed to something horrible.

Percy smiled tenderly, feeling like he really was going to cry before they reached the end of this conversation, “I think that’s exactly how parenthood is supposed to go, actually.”

That seemed to cheer Vax up, he leaned in and kissed Percy happily, a kiss that had a promise held within it.

“And I mean,” Percy hummed, holding Vax close, unwilling to have those lips too far away from his own, “The adoption process can take a really long time. Plenty of time to feel more comfortable with it.”

Vax blinked, “I mean, yeah, that would be nice, I like the idea of giving a kid a home. But… I have all the kit inside me right? I assumed when you were thinking about it you meant… you know, home grown?”

Percy’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, really? I didn’t know if that was an avenue you’d want to go down?”

Vax shifted, biting his lip, “I don’t know, it’s just… it’s the first thing I pictured? It would be a pretty big change though…”

Percy nodded slowly, getting the sense that this was a time to stay quiet and listen. He was getting better at spotting those rather than jumping in with a million solutions, desperate to help rather than just sharing the weight of problems. Kiki had pointed that out to him.

“I… I want to think I can do it,” Vax’s fingers traced anxious patterns up and down his husband’s spine, “But there’s so many voices in my head saying different things about it and I don’t know how to sort them out.”

“Well…” Percy brightened, realising he could say something useful now, “We could make a list?”

Vax looked at him steadily for a moment before bursting into helpless laughter, “Of course. Of course that’s your answer…”

“Hey!” Percy grinned, cheeks darkening a little but delighted to see his husband laughing, “Don’t knock it until we’ve tried it!”

“Fine, you adorable nerd…”

Five minutes later and Vax was curled up in his duvet on the overstuffed, cracked leather sofa Percy kept in his workshop for those nights before he met Vax when he’d just give into exhaustion and collapse there, ready to rise like a zombie and keep working the next day.

Percy brought his chair over, glasses perched at the end of his prominent nose. He put his legs up beside Vax, resting a pad of paper on his knees. It was meant for sketching design ideas but it would do.

“Okay, so we’ll start with the cons,” Percy drew a line down the middle of the page, “What would be bad about carrying this baby? No wrong answers, just say what’s on your mind.”

Vax sighed and pulled a face, “The dysphoria is the main thing. I’d pretty much be at the mercy of it for nine whole months.”

Percy nodded, adding it to the list.

Once he’d gotten the first one out and realised the sky hadn’t fallen in on him, Vax picked up speed, “I’d be passing on my dad’s genes which is just ugh…childbirth doesn’t look like a whole lot of fun… it would affect my career, I wouldn’t be able to dance for a while and then I’d have to work really hard to get my fitness levels back up… I’d have to come off T for a while, right?”

Percy nodded, tongue poking out a little as he concentrated, pencil flying across the paper, “Anything else?”

Vax looked like he was trying to get more words out but they were fighting him, “I mean...would it, um...gods, this sounds stupid but would it affect how attractive you found me?”

“Oh Vax…” Percy’s eyes softened.

“I know, I know,” the half elf hunched further into his mass of blanket, “I just need to hear it?”

Percy nudged Vax gently with one foot, “Vax’ildan, you are the most gorgeous person I know, you’re beautiful inside and out. Nothing will ever change that.”

The tips of those slightly curved ears went cherry red, “Thanks, babe.”

“Is that all of the cons?” Percy smiles, thinking how badly he wanted to kiss those ears and see if they were as hot to the touch as they looked.

“Yeah,” Vax nodded, “That’s all the ones I could think of.”

“Righty ho,” Percy turned back to the paper, getting very into this now, “Pros. What would be good?”

Vax seemed to relax, eyes drifting far away, “It would be faster than adopting...and adopting would still be a good option in the future. I haven’t had a real bad period of dysphoria in ages and… well, even if I did, you’d be there to help, right?”

Percy smiled gently, “Every step of the way.”

“And that’s another thing, I really like the idea of doing this with you, making a baby with you...oh, the sex! We’d be obligated to have sex every day, that would be cool.”

“We have sex pretty much every day anyway,” Percy grins but he didn’t disagree.

Vax softened, “I’d be holding onto a piece of my mama. That would be special. And…the amount she loved me and Vex’ahlia, feeling a love like that would be incredible...and Vex, of course, she’d love to be an auntie and she’d be an amazing one.”

Percy nodded slowly, thinking the same of Keyleth, who was his sister in all but blood, and Cassandra, how this would bring some light into her life and maybe make the city their family died in less of a nightmare for her.

“And...well…” Vax bit his lip, looking suddenly uncomfortable, “I’m...I’m going to live a lot longer than you, Freddy. If I had a child, they’d...they’d still be with me even after…”

The pencil suddenly slipped on the paper, leaving a streak of grey across the divide between their columns. Percy felt a hollow open up inside him. It was true, as a half elf, Vax’s lifespan far outstripped his but they both hated being reminded of that. It was a darkness that lurked in the back of their minds, able to be beaten back on a daily basis, but every so often it would lurch to the forefront just to remind them it was, and always would be there.

He managed a brave smile, looking up at Vax, “That’s a really good point, darling.”

Vax nodded, sighing softly, “And I mean...we’d have a baby. A beautiful little baby who looked a little like me and a little like you and entirely themselves. And every time I looked at them, I’d know… I’d know I could do anything. I could make something as amazing as that.”

The tears were falling down his face before Percy really realised it, landing on the page and blurring the words a little.

“Don’t cry on our list,” Vax laughed, teary eyed himself, “We worked hard on that!”

Percy gave a damp laugh, wiping under his glasses, “Sorry...is that everything you want to put on the list?”

Vax thought, fingers twisting gently in his hair, “Well...Caduceus makes a really nice decaf coffee.”

Percy’s face split into a wide smile, “That he does.” On the list it went.

“So…” Vax smiled shyly, “I think that means we’re doing this? We’re going to have a baby?”

“Looks that way,” Percy murmured, emotion welling up in his chest. He had the sense that it was going to be a teary year ahead of them.

The list was left on the floor as Vax opened his arms for Percy to move into, crashing together into tear-stained kisses. But it would be picked up later, carefully folded and kept in the drawer by their bed. It would be taken out and reread many times over the next year, mostly the pros column, even added to a few times until it far outweighed the cons. It was badly needed a few times, a lifeline when Vax stopped his hormones, when they struggled to conceive for the first few months, the hectic day when they went to the first scan and realised it was twins, the two of them having forgotten somewhere along the way that this particular genetic quirk ran in both of their families.

And the day Elaina and Johanna de Rolo finally entered their lives.

#black coffee #percildan #Percy de rolo #vax'ildan #percy/vax #please reblog if you like it

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i-write-shakespeare-not-disney · 7 years

Text

Roses are Red- Solangelo

Disclaimer: This story will revolve around abuse in future chapters.

I come from an abusive household. I lived through domestic abuse for eight years, and its impact continues to affect me a little over a decade later. I felt the necessity to give a voice to the people trapped in an abusive relationship, to show what it entails and what it does to a person. As a writer, I always vowed to myself that I would write so in a way so raw and honest, it would list my novels under banned books. I would write the reality people are afraid to write. I would write the voices that have been silenced. So that's what this story is. It will show the development and the struggle of an abusive relationship so that everyone can understand the fear, the hurt, the pain. So people will stop asking, "Why didn't you just leave them?" or "What did you do to provoke them?" and start standing up for the victims instead. This story will contain violence and sexual abuse in addition to emotional abuse. I don't write this because I find pleasure in it, but because I believe it's important for people to understand what this is like.

After a poll on Tumblr, this story has been molded to star Will and Nico from the Percy Jackson series. In reality, you can put any faces you want on these characters. It's the story that matters.

I also decided making this an LGBT novel because LGBT people are silenced further when it comes to abuse. Not only because of the previously mentioned questions but because many don't believe women are abusive nor are men abusive to each other. It's just a matter of fighting back. That is not true.

If you or someone you know need help in regards to domestic abuse, call National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−7233 with more than 200 languages. All calls are free and confidential. Online chat is also available on their website between 7am-2am central time at www.thehotline.org

(Click OP if read more link doesn’t show.)

Feedback is appreciated!!!

It’s funny how time works. How every precise second is a factor in your life. A moment earlier, a moment later, and your life can change completely without you realizing it. It seemed like time was constantly the reason behind everything. This fabricated illusion created by humans to measure their uneventful lives to the point of panic or stress had managed to be the molder of lives.

That was all Nico could really think. That single second that had sent him barreling through the classroom door his first day of college until he was toppled over another student with bright eyes and clusters of freckles. That minute it took him to gather his things and leave the coffee shop on campus resulting in Nico running into the same student- though not literally this time- as he walked in at the same time Nico was going to walk out. That single half-second glance that resulted in running a red light, slamming the brakes too hard, and going to a hospital because a single second later another car had swerved into them.

The minute of traffic that had caused them to get to the club past the hour that 21 and under were allowed. The moment of frustrated hesitation that led to someone offering help, sneaking them through the back. The three minutes in which Nico left to get a drink, the single second it took for him to turn and find Will in the crowd, talking to someone.

Life had changed for the better and for the worse by mere seconds. Moments which, had they happened a little earlier or later, would have led their lives down completely different paths.

Nico hated time.

***

There was an incessant tug at his arm. “Nico, come on, we’re going to be late, and we’ll have driven there for nothing,” Will sighed. “We have to go.

“Give me two seconds, man I’m almost done,” he said, peeking up at the mirror, his hands running through his hair, trying to spread the gel just right. Will rolled his eyes and leaned against the counter, watching Nico through the window. His eyes flickered over to him, suddenly uncomfortable. “Dude. Stop staring, you’re making me nervous.”

“I’m thinking maybe if I intimidate you enough, we can leave already.” Nico rolled his eyes and turned to him.

“Ever heard the expression ‘a watched teapot never whistles?’”

“You’re not a teapot,” he pointed out, smirking, raising an eyebrow. Nico snorted and shoved him playfully. “Finally,” he breathed as Nico left the bathroom.

Together, they left Nico’s on campus apartment and started for Will’s car. Since Nico crashed his, he hasn’t been able to fix it, rendering it useless. He glanced momentarily at Will knowing that on his right side, there were twenty stitches. Will was rocking the side shaved look, but knowing it was Nico’s fault made it painful to look at him sometimes. The hair had grown out enough, the stitches healed so that there was only a faded, jagged, light scar obscured by dirty blond hair.

“You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy, Neeks. It’s been four months.” Will always knew when Nico was thinking about the accident. “I’m perfectly fine. Look at me, ready to get hammered and grind on strangers at a club! Plus, this haircut makes me look edgy. Very attractive.”

Nico offered a smile, but his chest still constricted with guilt. It was his fault. And though Will kept saying anyone could’ve run a red light, Nico knew it was more.

It wasn’t just the mistake of running a red light, and slamming the brake when he probably should’ve sped up to get across before cars drove into them. It was the fact that he had been driving and he had let himself get distracted by Will, blond hair flying back in short waves since the window was down, singing happily along with the radio, lips curled into a smile, hands drumming against the dashboard because Will swore he could figure out the drum beat.

He had been selfish, trying to soak up his presence, completely forgetting the road until Will shouted that there was a red light.

Nico hit the brakes without thinking. A jolt hit the front right side, another the back left, the impact shaking his bones, an icy feeling spreading through him as it registered that he’d just crashed. Will’s airbag had burst out, the window shattered, and Will was groaning lifting his head, the right side of his face smear with blood. And Nico’s head had hit the steering wheel hard enough to give him a headache, but he was fine and that wasn’t fair because he was the one driving, it had been his fault, so why had it been Will who got hurt so badly?

Suddenly an arm draped around his shoulders, and he pulled into the scent of Will; cotton and vanilla shampoo and minty toothpaste and Old Spice cologne. “It’s okay, Nico. Stop beating yourself up about this.” Vaguely, Nico wondered if it was possible to be in love with someone he never even dated. “We’re going to dance, we’re going to drink, and we’re going to have some fucking fun.” He shook Nico’s shoulders gently. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Nico said. He smiled and remained under Will’s arm until they reached his car.

Of course, the traffic was bad. It was a Friday night, and everyone was dying to go out into the city and get stupid drunk only to regret it the next morning and do it all over again by the time the sun set.

They had just barely reached the club in time before they refused anyone under 21, and stood in line, pulling out ten bucks each and their IDs. When they reached the bouncer, he checked the IDs and shook his head. “Sorry dudes. No more under 21.”

Will gaped and scoffed. “We’ve been in line for like five minutes. It’s like two minutes past the hour, come on.”

The guy rolled his eyes and gave their IDs back. “Get here earlier next time then.” Nico winced at that, guilty again because he knew his getting ready had made them later.

“What a dick,” Will mumbled under his breath, turning away with Nico. “That’s ridiculous. It’s just fucking ridiculous! We have our money, we’ve been in line, and it’s not like we could get drinks anyway with the exaggerated exes they put on our hands. That shit takes days to wash off, dude.”

“Well, Thursdays are always 21 and under. We could come next week. Why don’t we get a pizza or something and watch a movie at my place?” he suggested. “I’ll buy,” he added, knowing this was all his fault.

Will let his head fall to the side, kicking at the ground. “That does sound tempting,” he said with a smile. Nico smiled back, but before they could turn away, someone walked up to them.

“Hey. I heard you guys were struggling with the bouncer.” Nico looked at the guy uneasily. Never trust anyone you don’t know this late in the heart of the city.

The guy had a lazy posture, tufts of brown hair in tousled waves, and he was rolling a large M&M in his mouth, looking at them with a cocked eyebrow, head tilted to the side.

“Yeah,” Will answered, glancing at Nico. “We’re under 21, but we were in line for a while. He didn’t want to let us in.” He shrugged.

The guy tilted his head back upright, biting down on his chocolate as he looked at Will and smirked. “I could get you guys in. There’s a back door, my friend’s the bartender. He has access to the door.” He gestured over. “Come on.” Will looked at Nico with an excitement Nico couldn’t bring himself to quell.

They walked over, Will walking with ease and Nico with enough tension for both of them. They stood by a door, the ground reeking of piss, trash, and who knows what else for a few moments before the door opened, revealing a guy with a ponytail and wide gages in his earlobes. “Yo, Sebastian. Who’re they?”

“New friends,” he answered. “They’re with me.” They guy nodded and let them in.

The club was packed, and that was an understatement. Bodies could hardly move, but that didn’t stop couples from grinding against each other slowly to the booming beat of the bass or the drunks from shoving past people like the dancefloor was theirs, their drinks spilling onto people or themselves. The song was good, Nico had heard it on the radio, but it was nearly drowned out by the constant club-beat of the bass they’d remixed it into. The song changed, along with a video on the small screens hanging from the ceilings. The beat remained the same, only the lyrics changing.

Nico saw different hair colors, heard shrieks of laughter and people singing along. He saw girls and guys with their hair matted down with sweat against their foreheads as they rocked their hips together, hips swaying sensually, not matching with the beat, but that obviously didn’t matter. “Come on,” he heard a faint shout. He looked over and Sebastian was leading them over to a smoke area where people could sit and take a break.

Will looked absolutely elated. Nico wished he could match his enthusiasm instead of dragging along like dead weight. “I’m Sebastian,” the guy shouted, though this time Nico heard him better.

“I’m Will. This is Nico. Thanks for getting us in!” He flashed a sincere, open smile. God, Nico loved that smile. It held all the warmth in the universe, and it was always honest and it was always special even though he always smiled. Anyone who received a smile from him was blessed for the rest of the day.

“Of course,” he chuckled. “So, you two together?”

Nico’s eyes went wide, his heart stuttered. It wasn’t the first time they’d been asked. People always assumed they were a couple. But each time always made Nico’s heart flutter with fear and hope.

Will laughed good-naturedly and wrapped an arm around Nico. “No, he’s my best friend. We’re both single.” The answer made Nico’s stomach twist, even though he knew it was true. But something changed in Sebastian’s expression. His smile widened slightly, his eyes focused on Will, and Nico had the absurd urge to pull him away and leave the club. Leave the grinding bodies, the boring bass, the messy flashing lights.

Sebastian looked over at Nico and smiled. “You guys want some drinks? Jack won’t ask your ID he knows you came in with me.” Nico looked at him suspiciously, and Sebastian seemed to understand because he laughed. He pulled out some money and handed it over. “You can get them. I know the number one rule of a club is not to take a drink from someone else.”

Nico relaxed and looked at Will. “Can you bring me a Jack and Coke on the rocks?” Nico nodded and pleaded with his eyes for him to stay in the same spot. He didn’t want this guy whisking him away.

While Nico left to get Will’s drink and a beer for himself, he couldn’t help but scan the crowds. It was getting more and more crowded. His eyes flitted over to where Will and Sebastian were waiting.

His stomach dropped.

Sebastian was close, about the same height as Will. His hand was in his hair, on the shaved side. Nico knew he was touching the scar. He knew it, and his stomach churned at the idea. But Will seemed completely at ease. His eyes were lidded, his sweet smile morphed into a sensual smirk, head tilted nearly brushing Sebastian’s nose with his own.

Nico was rushing back, spilling most of his beer, eyes set on the two of them. When he reached them, Will looked his way, but remained close, shoulder brushing Sebastian’s. Nico gave him his drink and Will thanked him. Sebastian whispered something in his ear and Nico fought the urge to hit him.

Then Will leaned over, his whiskey-tinted breath warm in Nico’s ear. “You mind if I go dance?”

His heart dropped to his stomach. “No, go ahead,” he answered lightly.

Will smiled and nudged him. “You should dance too. It’s a club, go meet someone.”

But the only person I want is you, he thought to himself. But he just smiled and nodded. “Yeah, totally will if I grow enough balls.” Will laughed and punched his shoulder lightly before walking away with Sebastian. Nico noticed with a nauseating lurch that his hand was intertwined in Sebastian’s.

Staying in the smoke area, Nico watched with a twisting heart as Will wrapped his hand around the back of Sebastian’s neck and curled closer to him, careful not to spill his drink. Sebastian’s hands didn't hesitate to roam up and down Will’s torso, fingers searching greedily. Nico dared him to go too far. Too slip his hands too low, to push into him too hard, to do anything that would make Will push him away and turn back to Nico. But he didn't.

Three songs later, he was still painfully watching Will twist in Sebastian’s arms and press against him, head tilted back in a joyous smile as Sebastian tentatively leaned down, encouraged by Will exposing his neck further, and licked the skin there.

It was something Nico had been dying to do, and very nearly did a few times when he was too drunk. And watching Will melt against him, reveling in this stranger's lips at his throat, Nico felt something cold clench his heart until it was too painful. He looked away and wished he had had the gall to tell Will what he felt. Even if Will didn't like him back, at least he wouldn't torture Nico by blatantly flirting and feeling up strangers in front of him. Will would never do that.

Instead he remained seated, sipping lukewarm beer, and wishing more than anything that they’d started walking away a few seconds earlier. Then they wouldn’t have met Sebastian, and they’d be in Nico’s living room watching a movie and throwing pepperoni at each other.

Nico was getting cranky. He was sleepy, hurt, and he felt invisible in the seating area watching couples grope each other. He wondered how many of these people had just met. How many of these were just doing what Will and Sebastian were doing?

His eyes returned to Will and Nico felt the earth shatter beneath him as everything fell away. There was an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, a pain in his heart so strong it became physical.

They were kissing. They were pressed as close as they possibly could be, kissing almost viciously. Even from a distance, Nico could see their tongues probing into each other’s mouths, teeth biting at lips, fingers tangled into locks of hair. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. He wanted to, God he wanted to. He didn’t want to torture himself like this, watching someone adore the person he loved the way he’d always wanted to.

But no.

If Nico had the chance, the kiss wouldn’t be so primal. He would kiss him softly. He would kiss him slowly. He would admire and bask in every sensation, from the warmth of his lips to the way his lips would part slightly to the texture of his tongue pressed against Nico’s own. He would relish the kiss, live in it, cherish it with everything in him.

Knowing that he never would while watching the scene unfold in front of him, the two of them stumbling between dancing people until they were near a wall, pressing into it like they wanted to mold into it, Nico finally had to tear himself away.

The look of pure ecstasy on his face was unfair. Knowing that Will enjoyed what he was doing hurt Nico further. It reiterated that he never stood a chance.

He staggered to the bathroom taking ragged breaths. He splashed his face with water, trying to calm down, trying to quell the hurt, the agony that was trying to bubble and burst through his chest.

He just wanted to go home.

He wasn’t sure how long he took refuge in the bathroom, scrolling through his phone until it was down to 10% if only to ignore the memory pawing at his brain. He didn’t pay attention to the time. But it was nearly three in the morning when his phone rang with Will’s face, contorted by a Snapchat filter, and Nico yelped, nearly dropping his phone. He answered and stuttered out a, “Hello?”

“Don’t hello? me!” he snapped. “Where the hell are you? I’ve gone all over this place looking for you! I came outside and I can’t go back in. Baz’s friend is off his shift. Are you still in there?”

“Looking for me?” he questioned. He blinked and shook his head. “Um, sorry.”

“Are you drunk right now? Where are you? Are you okay?” Nico’s brain was struggling to catch up, but it was more due to the emotional overflow and mind numbing scrolling he’d been doing while inhaling the disgusting scent of the bathroom. “Nico?”

“I’m okay, sorry. I’m-” Suddenly there was no static on the line. He looked at his screen and cursed when he saw it was completely black. It died.

He cursed under his breath and left the bathroom, then the club. It was still relatively full, but not as asphyxiatingly packed as before. There were several people on the sidewalk, waiting on Ubers or friends or trying to maintain their balance long enough to stay upright for two seconds.

He wasn’t sure where Will was, but if he could just go to where they’d parked, he would be fine.

He started walking, and that’s when he heard a relieved cry in the form of his name. He turned and saw Will barreling into him, his arms wrapping around him. Nico yelped and awkwardly hugged him back.

“Where the hell were you?” he asked, pulling away.

Nico tried and failed to ignore the purple marks along his neck and the plump swell on his nearly red lips. “I was in the bathroom,” he grumbled.

“The whole time?” he asked incredulously.

Nico felt his face flush and shrugged his hands away. “Yeah. I think the beer might’ve made me a little sick or something. I wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to force you to go home, so…. I just hung out in the bathroom. I’m sorry I forgot to text you.”

“Nico,” he breath exasperatedly. But before he finished, Sebastian was beside him, an arm snaking around Will’s waist.

He had marks on his neck too. But he had a few bite marks too.

“You found him,” he said. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, just feel a little sick,” Nico said, forcing a smile.

“I’m going to take him home,” Will whispered. “Get in, Neeks.” He opened the door for Nico get in, and he did so awkwardly. He could hear the muted murmurs just outside his window. “Thanks for helping me look for him.” Something unintelligible. “I had fun tonight. Text me?”

“As soon as you get in the car.” Nico could see through the side mirror as Sebastian neared Will, his arms wrapping around him. It wasn’t greedy this time. It was soft. Gentle. “Promise I’ll see you again.”

Will’s face tilted toward him, and Nico knew they were kissing again. He furrowed his eyebrows and curled into his seat shutting his eyes. A few excruciatingly long moments later, Will opened the door to the car and got it, starting the engine. “Nico?” Nico didn’t respond. He kept his eyes closed. He could pretend to be happy for him. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. “Neeks?” His hand rested on his arm. “Hm. Maybe you did get sick.” He heard him fumble with something and Nico noticed the air vents weren’t blasting in his face anymore. It was subtler and the air blew gently against him, enough to keep him from sweating, but not so much to make him freeze. The radio switched between stations for a while before Will settled on an Indie station and left it at a low volume.

Will hated Indie. He put it for Nico. So he could unconsciously listen in his sleep. It made Nico want to burst into tears and confession.

Instead, he kept his eyes shut and pretended to sleep the entire way back to campus.

Click Here for Ch. 2

#solangelo #au #you voted

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inadistantworld · 7 years

Text

The Emon Renaissance Faire (And the Assholes Who Work There)

Percy de Rolo/Vex’ahlia

32.3k words (8 chapters)

no warnings, a couple explicit scenes

summary: The Emon Renaissance Faire is the largest of its kind in Tal'Dorei, and these assholes all work there. They also play DnD on Thursdays. All the hours they aren't playing are hours where Percy is calmly talking himself out of confessing everything to Vex right then and there. Vex spends all those hours pretending she has no idea what her brother means by "tell him what you're feeling". The season is picking up, their friendship is better than ever, but the gang, AKA The Shits, AKA Vox Machina (only on Thursdays though), can't go very long without shit hitting the fan. And it's probably going to be their fault.

notes: Little piece from the middle of the first chapter cause I like it, but yeah. Uh, Matt is in this a little too, it’s probably noticeable that there were times when I forgot he was supposed to have a character in it when I was counting people off to make sure I had everyone. But yeah, some fun Perc’ahlia working at a Ren Faire together if that’s your thing

The largest weekend event was The Tournament. It was archery, jousts, sword fights, and a number of other things. It took hours and was never staged, though it there were some aspects that were played up for the crowds. Every now and then Vex liked to masquerade as a man and after her almost guaranteed victory, would throw her hood back and show herself as a woman. And the crowd would go crazy.

Of course she didn’t want to do it every day. And the days she didn’t Percy liked much better. Not because he didn’t like her as a man (in fact at first he’d been a little interested in Vax), nor because he didn’t like the show she put on as a man. She played it quite well in her mysterious Robin Hood way.

No, he liked it better when she strode onto the field, long hair in a thick braid, a smirk on her lips, dark eyes scanning the crowd. Scanning for him. He was always pressed against the short, wooden fence that held back the mass of people, as close to her as he could get. And his white hair always made him easy to spot.

Something they did to play up the game and get everyone excited was each participant carried a gift for a lucky person in the audience. Everyone had their own style, a flower for a little girl, for the elderly grandmother, the prettiest woman with an added wink and awful line, sometimes a cheap necklace or bracelet that looked lovely, once for mother’s day he saw a knight in the joust give a mother a simple, but nice tiara.

Vex’s type was Percy.

She locked eyes with him and walked over to him, her cloak just barely brushing the ground as she did so, so confident in her steps. “Have you come to cheer me on, darling?”

“I’ve already put money on you,” he leaned forward on the fence. The others had already given their flowers and were setting up. Vex always liked to take her time. She liked when people watched her flirt with him.

“You’re a smart boy, I’m the one to watch.”

He liked it too.

“Don’t worry, I’m quite aware,” he exaggerated looking her up and down.

“It is tradition to give the most beautiful person we see a flower,” she reached back to her quiver and when she held her hand out to Percy there was a beautiful dark red rose. She had told him once that she picks her own every day, spending her time looking for the most perfect one. She never said ‘the most perfect one to give to him’, but he liked to think that was why.

Quiet gasps, excited noises of those around him. He smirked and reached out, plucking it from her fingers, and looked it over, not saying anything witty or flirty yet. Vex quirked an eyebrow, he didn’t normally spend this long looking at it. A hush fell over the crowd and a few of Vex’s opponents and friends looked over their shoulders to see what the wait was about.

“I wish to give you something for luck as well. I’m afraid however that I came unprepared for such a lovely woman to speak to me.”

“I don’t need lucky tokens, dear, only your voice to cheer me on.” She was laying it on thick today. He could do that too.

He tucked the rose into his front pocket, which was surprisingly deep so the flower didn’t look too ridiculous. “I must insist, I could not bear to see you lose knowing I could have given you something to aid you. Please,” he reached up and slid the well-worn, beautiful scarf from his neck and held it out to her, “take this and shoot straight.”

Hands flew to many bodiced chests and soft aw’s came from the crowd as Vex ran the scarf through her fingers, not committing to taking it. Percy loved this scarf, even to borrow it seemed like a bigger deal than it was likely meant to be.

Percy hopped the fence, the guards not lifting a finger because they knew Percy and Vex and they’d seen how they acted so many times before that it didn’t faze them. Percy slid one hand under her heavy braid and took one end of the scarf in it, then pulled it through and tied it in a beautiful, more elaborate than necessary knot (thankfully quite loose), and let go to admire his work.

“I will wear it proudly, thank you.” Her fingers brushed against his right cheek and her lips pressed against his left. Percy closed his eyes, controlled his breathing, and began reciting his list as her fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary and she whispered, “Thank you,” into his ear. Not for show this time. Just for him.

“Use my arrows, dear, when you win it should be with something as beautiful as you are.” His heart stopped when he realized what he said and he cleared his throat and stepped away.

Vex winked and turned to join the others. Percy jumped back over the fence. A number of hands clapped his back and there were words of approval and scattered cheers. He always forgot this part of the game, the fact that everyone else believed it so wholeheartedly. But she was a very good actress. There were times he almost believed too.

ao3 link

#critical role #perc'ahlia #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo iii #vex'ahlia #fanfic #ren faire au #i still don't know how to best post my stuff here too #it's all very confusing and i'm very bad with technology #anyways this is my favorite chapter fic i've written #and i feel very proud of it today so i wanted to share #and now i'm gonna go #cr fic #fic

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theinvulnerabletide · 7 years

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10, 62, or 65 for Cassandra de rolo

I kind of combined all three I’m sorry.

Percy finds her in the Raven Queen’s temple, her darkhair down from its usual chignon, its white streaks evident even in the lowlight. He approaches, quietly, but isn’t surprised that she notices him beforehe reaches her; she always had been the observant one. “If the Council needs me, tellthem—” “Whatever they need, I’m sureVex can handle it,” he replies softly as he comes up to stand beside her. Her eyes are trained on thealter, a makeshift sort of thing, compared to the ancient marble in the templeof Erathis, or the burnished gold of the temple of Pelor. It’s a simple woodentable with a purple alter cloth, raven feathers scattered across it, and onelone candle burning before the onyx effigy of the Lady herself. But Vax hasconsecrated this place in his Goddess’ name, and even Percy can feel thesacredness of this place. They’re quiet for a longmoment. Cassandra hefts the half-full bottle of Courage in her hand, takes adrink, and hands it to her brother. “Do you know what day it is?” “Yes,” he replies as heaccepts it. He looks over at his sister, her hollow-eyed stare trained on thecandle flame. He takes a swig, feels the alcohol burn down his throat, and handsthe bottle back. “Never a day went by that Iever forgot, but every year, they always made such a… production out of the day‘they took custody of Whitestone.’ Threw a feast for every thrice-damned blackguardthat helped them…” she grimaces, closes her eyes and looks away. Holds in a sobuntil it passes. “I was always required to attend.” “Cassandra.” He puts anawkward hand on her shoulder. Touch was never something they did, as a family. Fatherwould never do anything as emotive as hugging,and even their mother didn’t do more than pats of affection once they were oldenough to hand off to a governess. And strong emotions were something, theywere taught, a noble could ill afford to have. A de Rolo put their duty beforeeverything else. “I’m so sorry I—” “Don’t.” She whips aroundtowards him, her blue eyes—darker than his—shining with tears. “Don’t you dareapologize again, alright? There’s nothing you could have done, there’s nothingany of us could have done and—” Damn the de Rolo iciness. Percysteps in and enfolds his sister in his arms, just as the tears wind, and shelets go of the sob that had been shaking her chest, and then it’s like his bodyknows exactly what to do. One hand goes to her hair carding through her thicklocks, the other steadies her at the small of her back. He doesn’t sayanything, not when her tears start soaking through his jacket, not when thesounds of her weeping echo through the small chamber. Not until her sobs becomeso violent she has trouble breathing, and her whole thin frame shakes with theforce of them. “Cassandra,” he murmurs, feelingtears burn in his own eyes, and he pries her a little way off of his shoulder,and shakes her, but she keeps sobbing and panic ticks in him that she’s goingto sob herself to exhaustion or worse. “Cassandra,” he says sharply, and it’senough for her stop momentarily. “Look at me, Cassandra.” Shelooks up at him. “Just breathe. I know you know how.” She somehow manages to chuckledarkly in between sobs, but she breathes when he takes an exaggerated breath,and together they breathe, matching each other breath for breath, letting the incenserich air of the temple fill their lungs until Cassandra’s shaking eases and shecan inhale on her own. She swipes at her tears withher dress sleeve. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” “Shouldn’t have what?” “Let myself get carried awaylike that.” “Carried away?” He repeats,incredulous. “Our parents, our entire family died Cassandra, seven years ago tonight. Murdered in their own homeby some bitch and her corpse of a husband. The same woman who kept you prisonerin that same home for years. I think if anyone deserves to cry tonight, sister,it’s you.” He pauses, rubs her shoulder a bit awkwardly when she won’t look athim. “It is alright to cry, you know. “I’m supposed to be betterthan this, I’m the blighted Lady of Whitestone now, I can’t…” “We’re not carved of thebloody stone, no matter what the legends say. You’re going to have emotions.” Hebreathes in, as if to say a bit more, but the words fail him, so he brings herin for another hug, resting his chin on his shoulder and he says only, “I loveyou, you know.” “How much of the Courage didyou have brother.” “Just a few shots’ worth.” He letsher pull away. “And make all the jokes you like, sister dear, but I do loveyou. And it pains me every day to think of what I left you here with, what youhad to suffer all alone—” Cassandra goes to interrupt him, but he continuesover her, “but you did survive. And you’re all the stronger for it. Not merestone, but residuum.” He pauses. “Father and Mother would be proud. Hells, evenOliver wouldn’t have any way to poke fun at you now.” “I think you severelyunderestimate our brother.” “The point being, that theywould all be proud of you. Young, bright Cassandra, leading the Whitestone intothe future. And I am proud of you,Cassandra. Very proud. But you don’t have to share the load alone.” She wipes the rest of thetears away, smiles wryly. “Does that mean you’re going to be sticking aroundnow? Taking your rightful place as a ruler of Whitestone?” “It means I’m giving you Vex.” She shoves his shoulder evenas she laughs. “Pelor’s breath, brother you’re the worst.” “Yes, but you still love me.” “I have to. I’m contractuallyobligated.” “Ah, well. I know all aboutcontracts. I might be able to get you out of it.” She snorts, pauses for a longmoment as she looks over at the single dark candle, then sighs. While she’sstood there, the flame has burned its way down the taper, leaving it a stub,the flame guttering in the darkness. Finally, before the lightgutters out completely, she says, “For what it’s worth, I think they’d be proudof you too.” “I killed several dragons.They’d better be.” And at that flash of herbrother’s enormous ego, Cassandra can’t help but laugh.

#sometimes i write things #cassandra de rolo #prompt fic #cassandra & percy #critical role

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awkwardspiritanimals · 7 years

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be ready and be brave (keyleth and the mountain goats)

i’m doing a set of meta pieces where i take a critical role character and pick five mountain goats songs that i think they would like and that i associate with them, and then writing meta posts of varying middle lengths about them in my college!au. you can read the longer explanation on the project here, and here’s the mountain goats wikipedia page if you’re unfamiliar. this is also a decent quick primer on them. i’ll link my favorite version of each song i use so you can listen along.

without further ado, this is the first part, which belongs to keyleth.

i. be ready and be brave

keyleth listens to the mountain goats for a long time before she really gets the mountain goats.

of their group, percy in particular listens to them a bunch, and they spend a lot of time together, just the two of them, so that’s where she hears them the most. the animal shelter she volunteers at is over near victor’s, so she catches a ride with him pretty often, when he’s got afternoon or evening shifts, and they usually take his truck (he likes driving more than she does and is more likely to need his vehicle while working than she is and also quite frankly he just doesn’t fit into her car very well).

(when she’d bought the little green vw bug years ago, there was no way she could have possibly predicted that she would someday go off to college and befriend a bunch of giants. grog and the de rolos like to swap exaggerated horror stories about trying to fit themselves inside the tiny car without dislocating anything. pike and scanlan laugh at them about it a lot.)

percy defaults to the mountain goats most of the time when they’re driving, and keyleth doesn’t mind them, so she doesn’t complain. she thinks they’re fine pretty much from the beginning, especially once she’s gotten used to jd’s voice, to the songs that percy plays most often, but none of them ever particularly reach out to her, not until magpie.

it’s spring, some day in that last little lull of the semester before finals kick into full gear, warm enough that they’ve got the windows rolled down, and the song catches her right from the beginning as percy pulls up to a stop sign. there are a lot of different kinds of mountain goats songs, but this one is gentle, reaches out and touches some bit of her that still feels lost and vulnerable in emon, away from home and her father and the familiarity of the greenhouse, tugs and pulls at it, opens up some hidden, scared part of her in a way that makes her breath catch for just a moment before it shakes its way out of her chest.

(try hard to do your best. be ready and be brave.)

percy doesn’t say anything when she skips back to listen to it again.

ii. i will get lonely/and gasp for air

the second time this happens they’re in the library.

it’s that stage of finals where she’s legitimately wondering if giving up and going off to just live in a forest a long ways away is the better option, and percy’s sharing his headphones with her because she forgot hers, which is something she does a lot. the stuff he listens to while they’re working is more varied than when they’re driving, because percy doesn’t have to worry about distracting himself from the road and can skip around and choose new stuff whenever he wants, so get lonely catches her even more off-guard than magpie had.

it’s the same thing though, the gentle sound of jd’s voice on i will get lonely/and gasp for air reaching in and tugging at something in her chest, something hidden there from everyone else and from herself. the song sounds lonely, sounds how lonely feels, and keyleth is very familiar with it all. not so much these days, but there are still moments of it, cold, sharp pinpricks of it when everyone gets busy and they don’t see each other for a few days, little stinging bits of hurt reaching back to a time when she was so often lonely that she can only really understand the entirety of it now, removed from it a bit by time and place. the song pulls at the edges of this place inside her, both old and new, her breath catching to the rhythm of the string part at the chorus.

and then percy leans into her just a bit, his shoulder pressed warmly against hers and one eyebrow raised in question. the song ends, and percy’s still there, not saying anything but there. she nods, and he leans into her a little more for just a second before going back to his own notes, connected to her by his earbuds.

iii. the sun’ll come out tomorrow

when she finds this song, she is not expecting it to be one she already knows, because of course everyone knows tomorrow, and at this stage in her knowledge of the mountain goats it is not a song she would have ever imagined they might cover.

everyone knows tomorrow, but not this tomorrow, not this soft and gentle thing that john darnielle makes it. the original is bright and hopeful and just on the edge of triumphant, and this is those things too but something different also, all those things pulled down, tight and close, a tiny little ember of something, smaller and softer but still bright, still burning.

(keyleth can’t get over the volume of the piano in comparison to jd’s vocals.)

if magpie and get lonely had pulled things apart in her, tugged at hidden bits of her in a startling and sort of frightening way but also a good way, a way that had exposed them to light and air, had allowed her to learn the shape of them within her and the space they occupy there, then tomorrow puts something back together, smooths out rough edges and unjumbles things she hadn’t even noticed.

she wants to share it with someone, because it seems like the kind of song you should give to someone else once you’ve found it. keyleth thinks vex might appreciate it, in those moments where she’s less brash and sure of herself than usual, but in the end it’s pike who she shares it with first, because she thinks that pike will understand, understand it in the very specific way that keyleth needs someone else to understand it.

pike’s quiet for a little while after they listen to it, and keyleth is sure she’s made a mistake, that pike actually doesn’t understand, is about to say something nice just because pike is usually nice, especially if she thinks she’s disappointing you, but then she just puts a hand on hers and says ‘oh.’

it’s exactly the reaction keyleth needed.

iv. i’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me

there is a momentum to this year that always gets caught up in keyleth’s bones.

most of her favorites in the mountain goats discography are the gentler, softer songs, because those are the ones she needs most often, to pull at the ragged edges of things and to smooth them back into place. but there are also days she just needs to shout i’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me.

there are those days when she thinks it might, maybe not literally, but days where life leaves her feeling jagged and incomplete and like she has no fucking idea what she’s doing. and those are the days when she needs to sing very, very, very loudly that she is going to make it through this, that it (it being at that moment the entirety of the cold and unfeeling universe) should do it’s worst and prepare for disappointment, because at the end of it all she was going to still be there, shouting along until her chest aches with the joy of it, of that defiance and that spite and that brightness.

the momentum of it all gets her every time.

v. you can’t tell me what my spirit tells me isn’t true

keyleth doesn’t have any tattoos. it’s not that she has any problem with them, or even that she doesn’t want any, it’s just that… it seems like an important decision to her. the others tease her sometimes, about how seriously she takes the whole process, but she won’t be rushed.

she has a notebook where she keeps all her ideas. she’s had it for years, adding new things in whenever something inspires her. vax and vex are fond of half-stealing it, adding their own doodles in the margins and starring the ideas that are their favorites. there’s an entire page where she let grog design some for her, big, bright shapes that morph into vines and flowers when you look at them for long enough. percy has a page of his own too, his drawings more traditional and measured than grog’s, and her favorite is a sunflower that takes up most of one corner, realistic enough that she swears it moves sometimes, turning towards the sun.

the page dedicated to the mountain goats had mostly happened on accident. she’d written down one line she’d liked (be ready and be brave) and then another (i’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me) and then once she’d really started listening to them there’d been a bit of a deluge and now there’s a page full of them (i have no fear of anyone, i am young and wild and free. you were brave, you are splendid, and we will never be alone in this world. we held on to hope of better days coming, and when we did, we were right. no matter what they say, it’s gonna be okay. and look about, all the stars are coming out.) most of them are written as tightly as possible, in every inch of available space, because there’s a lot of them and keyleth assumes there will always be more.

there’s one, though, that’s bigger than the others, written in the top margin of the page so she would have enough room. she doesn’t think it will be the first one she gets, because there’s percy’s sunflower and grog’s vines and kerrek, well, kerr had done this amazing sketch one day, when she’d been curled up in his and grog’s little studio space on campus, wondering what the fuck she was doing with her life and trying to escape from everything for a little bit, i have passed through fire, curling and dark and perfect.

but she thinks someday, maybe, a few tattoos down the road, it would be right, that it’s something she’d like to have with her always.

(i don’t have to be afraid. i don’t want to be afraid. you can’t tell me what my spirit tells me isn’t true.)

(she honestly wishes there was someway to tattoo the horn part. it feels important somehow, to the whole thing.)

#keyleth #keyleth of the air ashari #critical role #critrole #vox machina #the machina goats #listen i'm just as surprised as anyone that keyleth's is the first part done #but her list came together incredibly quickly and i had ideas for what to write for eachsong #so this is where we are #i so infrequently deal with keyleth by herself that i literally haven't ever figured out a tag for her #the obvious one to go with is #passed through fire #disaster asshole family

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brittanyyoungblog · 5 years

Text

100+ Love Quotes for Her: Cute, Romantic Quotes She’ll Love

There are relationships, then there’s true love. You’re with someone new, and it’s different. Or maybe, you’ve been together for years. Either way, it’s deep, exciting, special. You want to pour your guts out to her. Maybe you have already. If you’re having trouble putting words to your feelings, don’t worry—most people do.

Here are over 100 quotes to help you put your feelings into the right words.

You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching. Love like you’ll never be hurt. Sing like there’s nobody listening. And live like it’s heaven on earth.

—William W. Purkey

You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

—Dr. Seuss

Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.

—Bob Marley

As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.

—John Green

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. —Pablo Neruda

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.

—Neil Gaiman

—Pablo Neruda

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. —Robert A. Heinlein

There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved.

—George Sand

The most important thing in the world is family and love.

—John Wooden

The one thing we can never get enough of is love. And the one thing we never give enough is love.

—Henry Miller

A loving heart is the truest wisdom.

—Charles Dickens Treasure the love you receive above all. It will survive long after your good health has vanished.

—Og Mandino

Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.

—Jean Anouilh

Unconditional love really exists in each of us. It is part of our deep inner being. It is not so much an active emotion as a state of being. It’s not ‘I love you’ for this or that reason, not ‘I love you if you love me.’ It’s love for no reason, love without an object.

—Ram Dass

Love doesn’t make the world go ’round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile. —Franklin P. Jones

Love is all we have, the only way that each can help the other.

—Euripides

Life is a game and true love is a trophy.

—Rufus Wainwright

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

—Friedrich Nietzsche

To witness two lovers is a spectacle for the gods. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe You’re not looking for perfection in your partner. Perfection is all about the ego. With soulmate love, you know that true love is what happens when disappointment sets in – and you’re willing to deal maturely with these disappointments.

—Karen Salmansohn

Love is like a virus. It can happen to anybody at any time.

—Maya Angelou

Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply. Zane Grey A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

—Ingrid Bergman

The course of true love never did run smooth.

—William Shakespeare

I love you more than my own skin.

—Frida Kahlo

Life is the flower for which love is the honey.

—Victor Hugo

Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you.

—William Arthur Ward

Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?

—Christopher Marlowe

True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.

—Francois de La Rochefoucauld

The thing is that love gives us a ringside seat on somebody else’s flaws, so of course you’re gonna spot some things that kinda need to be mentioned. But often the romantic view is to say, ‘If you loved me, you wouldn’t criticise me.’ Actually, true love is often about trying to teach someone how to be the best version of themselves.

—Alain de Botton

Love is like a beautiful flower which I may not touch, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight just the same.

—Helen Keller True love cannot be found where it does not exist, nor can it be denied where it does. —Torquato Tasso

We’ve got this gift of love, but love is like a precious plant. You can’t just accept it and leave it in the cupboard or just think it’s going to get on by itself. You’ve got to keep watering it. You’ve got to really look after it and nurture it.

—John Lennon

Love is friendship set on fire.

—Jeremy Taylor

Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars. Gilbert Parker True love is eternal, infinite, and always like itself. It is equal and pure, without violent demonstrations: it is seen with white hairs and is always young in the heart.

—Honore de Balzac

The things that we love tell us what we are.

—Thomas Aquinas

I love you—I am at rest with you—I have come home.

—Dorothy L. Sayers

Love is the beauty of the soul.

—Saint Augustine

To me, a forever love is a bond that can’t be broken.

—Nick Cannon

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.

—Oscar Wilde

With love and patience, nothing is impossible.

—Daisaku Ikeda

Love and a red rose can’t be hid.

—Thomas Holcroft

Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.

—Lord Byron

True love, to me, is when she’s the first thought that goes through your head when you wake up and the last thought that goes through your head before you go to sleep.

—Justin Timberlake

Loyalty and devotion lead to bravery. Bravery leads to the spirit of self-sacrifice. The spirit of self-sacrifice creates trust in the power of love.

—Morihei Ueshiba

The giving of love is an education in itself.

—Eleanor Roosevelt

Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.

—Emily Dickinson

Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable.

—Bruce Lee Familiar acts are beautiful through love.

—Percy Bysshe Shelley

Whatever is done for love always occurs beyond good and evil.

—Friedrich Nietzsche

We loved with a love that was more than love.

—Edgar Allan Poe

Love is the silent saying and saying of a single name.

—Mignon McLaughlin

Maybe true love isn’t out there for me, but I can sublimate my loneliness with the notion that true love is out there for someone.

—Roxane Gay

Love is a gross exaggeration of the difference between one person and everybody else. —George Bernard Shaw

Love is my religion – I could die for it.

—John Keats

True love lasts forever.

—Joseph B. Wirthlin

Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence.

—Erich Fromm

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

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mollymauk-teafleak · 5 years

Text

Widomauk Week 2019

Day 3- Tarot

Coincidentally, also a modern au! Because thats just kind of what I like to write

(Discussion of sex)

The day had been one of those achingly rare ones, the ones that were empty of any work, any responsibilities, any duties. A day where Caleb had been entirely at his own mercy with no classes or papers due in anytime soon. Just a long, yawning day for him to fill with whatever he liked.

Not long ago, the idea of a day like that would have set his nerves jangling and shrieking like alarm bells. He’d once hated having nothing to do, nothing to keep his hands busy and his mind from straying to places he didn’t want it to go. A year ago, upon finding himself in a position like this, he would have either scavenged some classwork or studying to do, desperately clawing for an assigned purpose, or sunk into a depression that he might not have got himself out of for a week.

But things were different now, so different that Caleb had to wonder sometimes if he’d woken up as someone entirely new one day and just not realised it. Someone who smiled and slept more than three hours a night, someone who talked with others and only spent a few days with a roiling stomach ache brought on by anxiety. And even then, when he did feel like that, he would simply go and tell one of his friends and they would sit with him and help him remember that it would only ever be temporary.

And then one of his friends had become something more, something he’d truly never thought he’d ever have.

On his one, rare day off, Mollymauk had woken him well past sunrise with gentle kisses pressed to the nape of his neck and arms wrapping around his middle. Sleepy, gentle sex had followed without neither of them having to say a word, only giggling and trading a good morning back and forth once the two of them were panting, rumpled and sweating slightly. A late breakfast, kisses that tasted of chocolate and coffee on the threadbare second hand couch, a shared shower that went about the way you’d expect, a movie down at the theatre that neither of them particularly wanted to see but still managed to laugh all the way through by whispering comments to each other, all this went by with no effort at all. Not a single second did Caleb spend as prey to his own thoughts, worrying about things he should be doing or why there wasn’t anything he should be doing. The day was warm and bright for the verge of winter, Mollymauk’s hand was in his own and there was no reason to be afraid.

Now the long, warm day had turned into a chilly dusk that felt like it had no end, just a cool purple haze the two of them had sunken into like flies in amber. The thick curtains in Molly’s room kept out the worst of the cold that came along with the settling night while not losing the thick, orange light of the sunset. It made the whole room, with its deep purples and dark blues and gold highlighting, come to life with some strange ethereal warmth like they were in the sunset itself.

Caleb lay sprawled on Molly’s bed with one of his pillows propping up his chin. Every so often he’d bury his nose in it and inhale as deep as he possibly could, smelling his boyfriend’s cologne and the mango shampoo he’d been favouring lately and the lavender oil he rubbed onto his horns before bed. Just as Mollymauk was half a hundred colours, he was half a hundred scents as well and Caleb was determined to memorise them all.

Molly was sat on the floor, his battered old keyboard across his knees, scratching idly at the marker pen scrawling he’d done and redone over and over so he’d know which key was which note. His journal was open and some notes were scratched into it but they were the first few hesitant steps into unknown ground, nothing that was really at a good, solid run yet. He was picking some little riffs out here and there but most of it was a lot of frowning and scrawling in his books. Caleb knew Molly’s process by now, it would be a lot of this, a lot of huffing and fussing and smoking joints and melodrama until he worked the song out of his system. But Caleb always got the sense that Molly rather liked this part, he liked playing the tortured artist. And in the end the song would be wonderful, his usual mix of bittersweet and esoteric and otherworldly. . Molly just didn’t seem to remember that part right now.

“You need to take a break,” Caleb observed from the pillow.

“Why?” Molly craned his neck back to look at him upside down, “Because everything I’ve ever written sucks ass and my dreams of being a musician are completely futile?”

Caleb tried to hide the fact that the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards, “No. Don’t put your writer’s block’s words in my mouth.”

“It’s true,” Molly grumbled, turning back to the keyboard and walking his fingers across it to make a frustrated, discordant tune.

Caleb shuffled forward enough that he could kiss the top of Molly’s head. His hair had been getting very long lately, growing out of the undercut he used to keep it in. He’d spoken wistfully the other night of having hair right down to his waist.

“You’re trying to force it and it’s getting you all knotted up,” he observed sagely, “It’s like when I learn a new spell, happens every time. You get so frustrated when it doesn’t work after a hundred times but once you let go of that and turn away from it, it takes hold.”

Molly grunted, leaning back into his embrace, “Quit being so wise or you’re gonna make me admit you’re right.”

Caleb laughed at that, reaching down to bat the keyboard off his knees, “Come up here with me. A watched pot never boils and all that.”

“Sounds like a good way to burn my apartment down,” Molly hummed but he clambered up on his bed all the same.

For a little while all they did was enjoy their closeness, Molly’s hands on Caleb’s waist, Caleb’s face resting in the crook of Molly’s neck. He could remember a time when he’d flinch away from any kind of touch like this, like if anyone’s fingertips so much as brushed him, they’d see he wasn’t really there and the illusion would be broken. But since they’d found each other, he’d become a glutton for it, for feeling someone else’s hair tickling his nose, hearing a soft, gentle breath in his ear.

Until Molly broke apart, eyes shining in that way they did when he’d seized on a potentially wonderful, potentially destructive idea.

“Let’s play a card game to pass the time!”

Caleb tilted his head, “I kind of thought we were working our way towards a different activity…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck, don’t worry,” Molly laid a soothing hand on his boyfriend’s arm, “But this will make it even more fun!”

Caleb leaned back, curiosity sparked. Molly’s homebrewed card games were usually amazing and usually involved the revealing of scandalous secrets.

And after Molly had eagerly withdrawn his favourite tarot deck from his desk drawer and explained the rules, in a tone that made it sound like he was definitely making this up on the spot, Caleb saw that this one would be no different.

A question on the deck. Players withdrew two cards. Lower value card meant you had to answer the question. And from the way his red eyes narrowed and his tail lashed, Caleb knew the nature of those questions.

“Sounds fun,” he grinned, lying back on the pillows, letting the oversized shirt he was wearing ride up just a little. Two could play at that game.

“Nice easy one to start off with,” Molly declared, setting the cards, neatly shuffled, between them on Caleb’s discarded book like an island in the inky sea of his bedsheets, “Who was your first?”

Caleb snorted, “You already know that.”

“Hence why it’s easy,” Molly retorted, stretching out with an effortless laziness. He was wearing one of Caleb’s shirts as well, with boxer shorts that barely qualified as such given how small they were, showing off majority of his long tattooed legs.

“Okay, okay…”

Caleb drew the second card, Molly drew the sixth. He grinned wickedly as he showed off The Lovers.

“Appropriate,” Caleb smirked, “Alright. As you well know, my first was my roommate from boarding school when I was seventeen. Percy.”

“Come on, you can’t be that stingy with the details!”

Caleb huffed out a laugh, “There aren’t really that many! Pretty standard missionary under his blanket in bed, terrified the whole time that we’d get caught. It was the time after in the library that’s really good…”

“Wait, what?” Molly sat bolt upright, eyes shining, “Spill it!”

Caleb merely shrugged with exaggerated innocence, sliding his card back into the deck, “Not part of the question, is it?”

“Asshole!” Molly declared, surging forward into the next round with renewed eagerness, “Next question, where’s the wildest place you’ve ever had sex?”

“Don’t I ever get to pick the question?”

“I have decided no, on the grounds that you are an asshole.”

Caleb chortled when Molly drew the sixth and he drew the eighteenth.

The tiefling shrugged carelessly, “It’s fine. Weirdest place I’ve ever had sex…probably in the bathroom of the pizza place on Sixth street.”

Caleb had to splutter a little at that, “No way, really? And you go back there?”

“I never said I got caught,” Molly points out, wagging his finger, “And when the hot half elf you’re seeing takes you out dancing with a vibrating plug in you, you’ll have sex anywhere, believe me.”

“We are never going back there…”

“Why? It’s got the best pizza.”

They traded back and forth like this for a while, until their throats were raspy from laughing and their jaws sore from grinning. Caleb quickly realised his stories were never going to be as exciting or varied as Mollymauk’s but he did get to tell him the story of the time he sucked Percy’s dick in the book stacks of their school’s library. That had made Molly fidget and purr excitedly, pressing his thighs together as his ears picked up.

The two of them were teetering on the edge of scattering the cards to the floor and making a new story to tell later but Caleb was desperate to get at least one question in. Finally, Molly relented, admitting that the library study was good enough to earn him the right.

Caleb’s hand hovered over the deck, fingers twitching as he thought. What was the one thing he wanted to know more than anything?

Eventually what came out of his mouth was, “What does sex feel like? With the person you’re with now, I mean.”

Mollymauk blinked, his smile softening. He took a card gladly.

On the count of three, they turned them over and then burst out in bewildered laughter. They both held card number six. Though Caleb’s had a clearly different design from the other cards in the deck, they both held some image of two people entwined in each other, two sets of Lovers.

“This is what you get for having an addiction to buying tarot cards, I guess,” Molly shrugged helplessly.

“And for never keeping your stuff neat,” Caleb added, tucking some hair behind his ear, “You go first, though. Because it was my question.”

Molly nodded, thinking for a while, choosing his words carefully. He’d been fidgeting all the way through the game but now he was still, not even his tail twitching in its usual restless way. He looked out of the window as he thought, out into the nearly night.

The stars were coming out, one by one, finding their way through the sunset.

“Having sex with you feels like…it feels like I’ve finally found something I didn’t even know I was looking for. Something that was missing with everyone before. There’s just this piece of it finally in place, its whole, it’s complete…and that’s how I know you’re the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Caleb took a deep breath. He had to get through his answer quickly before he either burst into tears or pinned Mollymauk to the bed or both.

“Being with you makes me realise I deserve to be happy. Because you look at me and you touch me and you kiss me and…and even the parts of me that are small and sad and broken can’t deny how much you love me. And if that’s true then I must deserve it. I must deserve you.”

Molly’s hand had slid into his own after just a few words, holding tight like an anchor. Then it was his lips, as soon as the words left him. The pillows rushed up to meet them as Molly’s tail wrapped around his leg and his mouth found its way past the shirt he wore to the flushed, prickling skin underneath.

The cards fell to the floor, as unnoticed and unremarked as night finally taking hold outside. They forgot the game and left the points not noted, leaving their paper lovers to their own carefully inked embraces.

It had been a very, very good day.

#widomaukweek2019 #widomauk #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #tarot #day 3 #modern au

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