#At this point Percy should just stop caring about everybody else
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This, this is the problem , with the writing,with the fandom, with shipping stans. I don't care how nostalgic you feel about certain characters and their relationships, if it's at the expense of one of the individuals involved, it's a toxic and terrible situation.
And say what you will, but it's always Percy who has to compromise, adjust, and temper himself for everyone else; always. For the Gods, for his supposed friends, for his so-called girlfriend. This is not a recent issue , but new books have made it more apparent .
Grover is or used to be the character that did everything for Percy, and Percy always went above and beyond himself, more than anyone can count. They have a freaking empathy link, and now you are telling me they are having such terrible misunderstandings and downright toxic behavior on Grover's part. Annabeth isn't much better either. I need to know what Rick's on. Forget about anybody else, somebody get Percy Jackson out of there. Poseidon should take him away to Atlantis to relax for a long time, and he would definitely actually do that if Rick wasn't writing the books brainless and amnesiac.
I swear everyone, the gods, the Camps, Grover, and Annabeth, will all come begging and pleading once he finally snaps and blows them all off. But Percy would never, he's too good, too understanding, too traumatized to do it. But everyone has a limit, and his has almost run out. (Somebody, please write this.)
As I've mentioned a few times times, one of the actual interesting things Riordan is doing in this new series is mentioning Percy's obvious rage issues and then not actually doing anything with it other than making Percy swallow the anger down so he stays Nice and Controlled at all times.
Which, if we were dealing with pre-Disney+ show deal RR, could be a great character arc over the course of the series where Percy learns to actually deal with his anger and trauma while he's actively being triggered by petty godly bullshit. But Wrath made it pretty clear he's okay with letting Percy eat shit emotionally as long as everyone is one big happy team in the end and we're Therapy Speaking ourselves into the sunset, so I don't think that's happening.
Wrath sets up a conflict between Grover and Percy that's pretty simple: Grover eats a magical thing he's specifically told not eat and causes chaos that puts Percy's quest at risk. Reminder, these stupid quests are so Percy can get into college and Grover knows this. Percy gets angry at Grover; so angry Annabeth can see it and shoos him out of the room so he doesn't explode. And then he just... tries to stop being angry, assumes Grover means well, and carries on pretending it's not Grover's fault while being resentful because it's totally Grover's fucking fault.
Eventually, we get a scene where Grover attempts to make things right by putting himself into danger and Percy freaks out because, duh, he doesn't want his friends to get hurt. Grover then attempts to apologize by admitting he maybe sorta kinda subconsciously wanted to sabotage things. And it's here where we run in to trouble.
Please notice that Percy immediately tries to reassure him that he's not responsible despite Grover acknowledging it. Then we get the good ol' Grover tears and looking like a poor bullied baby before he confesses to sabotaging his best friend's quest because he doesn't want to be left behind. And with that, all of Percy's anger is gone because how can you be mad at your friend for that?
Uh, pretty fucking easy, especially if my idiot satyr friend knows exactly what the consequences of failing the quest is (forget the college letters; Percy is under the assumption that Hecate will unmake him if he fucks up) AND said idiot frequently has gone MONTHS without seeing me because of his job and, in fact, several months from now will be halfway across the country anyway helping Apollo with some different quest bullshit!!!!
I digress.
Suddenly, Percy is the bad guy for being mad at Grover. And this continues with the next part of the conversation.
How hard it's been on him?????
Percy Jackson, you are constantly blowing literal gaskets because of the stress you are under, and you're worried about how hard college applications has been on GROVER???????
"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I should have been thinking about how you felt rather than stressing about getting into college."
"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I should have been thinking about how you felt rather than stressing about getting into college."
"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I should have been thinking about how you felt rather than stressing about getting into college."
like
are you kidding me here rick
are you FUCKING kidding me
PERCY needs to APOLOGIZE to GROVER for PRIORITIZING COLLEGE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
And then Grover makes a joke about Percy's shitty gpa because dunking on Percy in an emotional conversation is totally fine because his emotions don't actually matter to any of his friends. He'll get over it! He's Percy, duh. He's not a ticking time bomb of resentment full of grudges whatsoever.
I think we're supposed to see this as Percy maturing and being forgiving, but is he? He doesn't tell Grover he forgives him. Percy's the one apologizing in the end because he's been guilted into feeling bad that Grover is sad/upset and put himself in danger. The conflict doesn't actually get resolved because Percy brushes it aside; it doesn't matter any more because Grover is sad and must be reassured. No one's going to learn anything from this because there have been no consequences. Grover's gonna do some dumb shit again, Percy's gonna get mad at him, Grover will cry and make up a sad sack excuse, and Percy will stop being angry because Grover's his bestie and what else is he supposed to do?
(This could be a good character arc about how Percy's fatal flaw makes him have a really messed up view of friendships and the meaning of loyalty, but again, we will be denied.)
And for the record, just because your friends have compelling reasons for their shitty actions doesn't make them any less shitty. It doesn't mean they shouldn't apologize for their fuck ups or negate the hurt they caused you. Forgiveness needs to be earned, not manipulated out of you through tears and reckless actions.
Grover can get fucked. I hate this fucking character.
#percy jackson supremacy#At this point Percy should just stop caring about everybody else#only him and his family matter#percy and poseidon#percy and grover#anti percabeth#percy and annabeth
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Why Tommy is one of THE BEST written characters in existence.
Alright, that’s it
Here I give you my fuckin Take on why Tommy is one of the best written characters out there and can easily compete with best-selling Novels like Percy Jackson and Harry Potter. I’m sick of a trashing that doesn’t even make sense. So buckle up. Here I will tell you why Tommy has one of the best written characters in history of Books and Movies. Remember, I write this all in my perspective and take many examples of other character books as well
Before this all starts, I will also talk about the main characters of some series, since Tommy has the reputation of being a “main” character.
When I look at the books I’ve read, I see a large range of characters and there way of making the story interesting.
Now, to establish a good character, we need key points of motivations, to make them relatable and bla bla blub:
Personality
Part of the story
Their Powers
Flaws
Relationships
Prized Possessions
History/the backstory
The moral and story the character tells
First tho, I want to explain some words I’m going to use here!
Mary Sue/Gary Stu:
Those are characters who are flawless, have missing chunks of personality and mostly one way written. They are easy to achieve when you are trying to make your character look badass.
Examples in some Fandoms are
· Rey Skywalker (Star Wars Sequels 7-9)
· Hermione Granger (Harry Potter Movies)
· Bella Swan (Twilight)
Tree-System:
Imagine a tree. You plant something small and soon you have something giant with many branches, roots and connections. You have the seed you plant and with caring and care you let it grow. Then you have somewhat a sapling. The tree grows with the care and soon you have a tree with many branches.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Personality
Negative:
Tommy’s personality is very brash and out of control = He’s barely containable in fights, going off to do his own risky plans and starting two or so fights. He can’t forgive a person very easily like Eret, who took it a long time to get forgiveness and Techno, as he shot Tubbo at the Festival. He makes decision that also cost his life like the duel because he hates losing
Tommy can be very lazy, giving the thought he wouldn’t have to do the hard work = Shown when he tries to steal the hearts of seas from Eret or potions from Techno, bargain with “drugs” by Puffy and Ponk or gives other people the work he doesn’t want to do like he did with getting cobblestone
Like a child, he often clings to close people and annoys others for attention = His desperate attempts to have company or someone praising him shows, when he tries to get Philza’s approval (or a pat on the back), constantly looking out, if Tubbo’s either okay or where his is,
He doesn’t like to wait or doing things in the long run = He constantly asks when something is finished, when they could go or in his exile, when he was allowed to go back to L’Manburg
He doesn’t show often his cooled down, scared and vulnerable side = He often overshadows his trauma with a facade of jokes and bad hidden hurt he brings out. When he talks about something bad, he’s clearly confused, not really knowing on how to understand it. Also he runs away from things he can’t control a panic attack like visiting the final control room or looking away from the holes in Logstedshire
He runs without head into a battle so often as possible = Only when they had their final showdown for the disc, Tommy was seen preparing in story, thinking it would be his last fight
---
Positive:
But as he has negative traits, his positive shows to many people clearly.
His unwavering loyalty to the closest of people = His loyalty to Tubbo, Wilbur And L’Manburg are, were and always will be a part of him. He stands against anyone who goes against that, even if it means pain in many ways.
Passionate about dear projects of his = You can see Tommy talking about his discs or see an video where he would spent days getting different discs. Those things are very known to be rare things, so for Tommy to possess it gives him somewhat power. L’Manburg was the same passion, even a bit more, as you can see he was ready to give up his most prized disk. The last and in the moment is his hotel
Bravery like no one makes him as one of the dangerous person on peoples hitlist = He stands up for others. He stood up to L’Manburg. He in the end didn’t care that he lost a life. When he sees a foe, he won’t stand down and submit, he will fight against the oppression and tell them that in the face. During the mission to get a visa, he stood against Schlatt, even if they were clearly in the loose of people and disadvantage. Or getting an apology of Sapnap for killing Niki’s fox. Fighting against 5 people with just one ally while the other is a hostage.
His leadership = There are not many people who can take it up, but Tommy is an exception. He can coordinate people with his loud voice and somewhat thought plans. He is charismatic, even if he’s not so good at it like Wilbur, he still can motivate people to fight for themselves or others. He’s seen to lead others into battle and taking in the fighting part a leading role
Unselfish. That’s one of the most arguable things about Tommy`s character = You can´t look at a kid and say he is selfish because he wants to get something dearly back. Especially Tommy, after he gave the things up, he cared about. But if something is happening again, he will lay it down to do the other thing. As seen by the egg, he had a hard time thinking what to do. He, in a long time, didn’t want to be catalyst for something to happen. Not when he in the moment could have stopped it. So doing this act for himself ones, was a good decisions, since they clearly weren’t ready for war
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part of the Story
Outside of the story:
Let’s all just get something “straight”. What would Dream SMP without Tommyinnit. Now. Don’t get me wrong. All the creators on the SMP are amazing. They are all wonderful and deserve every bit of Attention and fame they get. But just imagine.
We heard from Tubbo, he was the one, who got him into the SMP. Schlatt and Wilbur came because of a “visit”. Quackity was added because TOMMY said he was bored. And from that, we got somewhat of a tree system. As Tommy was invited and drawn into conflict by Sapnap (shoutout to best boy!), he got more people.
He also has the highest viewership and kind of shortest streams, since he is doing college next to Youtube and Streaming. He can’t give up his high viewers since all of those 200.000 (average) – closing 650.000 People (doing something like a big lore stream in prison or the disc final), choose to watch him.
Also a reminder again, Tommy has his storyline as does everyone else. When we saw Tommy and Techno during the partner up arc doing something with the dogs, they saw the start of the red vines arc BUT said they were on the wrong storyline. Tommy was asked by the eggpire writers if he wanted to be a part of the story and he said yes. Why do you think he nearly says nothing about the egg. He leaves it to the writers. Also, it was said by one of Wilbur’s Character descriptions, that Tommy was okay with others doing something with his character, while Techno was more reluctant with his.
Let me say it again, every creator is awesome and individual! Nobody should be compared to others. But with Tommy coming to the Dream SMP, there really was a change in the game.
Remember, that’s because we also have a BT (before Tommy) and AT (after Tommy) Timestamp in the wiki!
Inside of the story:
Now, with Sapnap, Alyssa, Ponk and Tommy in the first ever big conflict its shown the importance. People assume Tommy is one of the conflict bringers, even though he was dragged in it by having something stolen by Sapnap and then forced to fight with him, to get it back.
The Consequences he’s got where having his discs get stolen. This is what Tommy’s biggest character motivation was the first two seasons. Those discs are known on the server and when you think about gifting something to C!Tommy, it would be a disc.
Techno = Disc Wait
Badboyhalo = Disc Pigstep, Chirp
HBomb = Disc Pigstep, Wait
Tubbo = Stal
LazarBeam = Far
Tommy is a openminded boy who longs for funny little adventures and pranks, since he is just a young person. It’s in his nature.
So why, when he does something, are people looking on him?
Because the things he was and is a part of some of the biggest events. And him being so loud and brave and rash lets him stand out. If you look at the old (hah) Revolution of L’Manburg, who can you hear talking the most and the loudest? Tommy and Dream. They were the most outgoing about the war with Sapnap, Tubbo and Wilbur following. Fundy was more quieter (thankfully he has so much more lore now).
Tommy’s character is known to fall or be dragged head first in almost every conflict. He has connections to who? Mostly everybody. So of course he’s connected big parts to the stories.
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Powers
Okay. Every “main” character or character with huge importance to the story has some kind of power. Looking at Dream, who is a “demigod” or Ranboo who I don’t even have to talk about. So what about Tommy?
Well. He doesn’t have any. Tommyinnit is one of the people, we get to have as an “human” character
Hannah = nature “Spirit”
Karl Jacobs = Timetraveller
Antfrost, Technoblade, Ranboo, Fundy = Hybrids
Dream = Something something green blob
Awesamdude, Puffy, Philza, Sapnap, Eret, Schlatt = Adding Features (wings, eyes, body parts)
Badboyhalo, Skeppy = completely different species apparently
Tommy has, as we know of the moment, a not confirmed power. The assumptions of the egg are not clear, since we haven’t seen those interact in a while. All we know is, Tommy didn’t get hurt, destroying a part and not feeling anything, while being in contact. That in canon considered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flaws
As talked before in personality and also in an assumption, we see the pattern of loyalty and brashness repeating.
Flaws are the most important parts of a character. It shows the struggle of their adventure and learning how to live with it.
Percy Jackson learned loyalty is nothing, if you don’t have someone to project it on.
Harry Potter and Luke Skywalker learned being a hot head didn’t really bring him forward and it’s important to have a plan
Frodo Beutlin learned that it is okay taking care of yourself and what attachment means
Anakin Skywalker learned fear is controllable and it shouldn’t be a remaining part of your life
Tommy learned over the time that his rashness could hurt others, loyalty couldn’t come back to him like he gave it out and he learns even more in the coming future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Relationships
Tommy’s relationships is a mess of strings. Some are badly knotted and some are very clear.
A characters connections is an important part for the character himself.
Relationships in life are
· Enemies(-figure)
· Rivals(-figure)
· Friends(-figure)
· Family(-figure)
· Lover(-figure)
· Complicated family(-figure)
· Complicated friend (-figure)
Relationships are a part of everyone’s life. Not with everybody is a good relationship holdable. Either it’s because their hurting each other or another person. People change and that’s a part of life.
Tommy realized, even tho it hurt, that Techno wasn’t good for his mental state and health. It went against everything Tommy ever stood for.
And Tommy and Tubbo’s relationship wasn’t really that broken. It’s normal for friends to fight. Normal for them hit their heads in. Tommy and Tubbo were surrounded with people who were, at the time, a terrible addition to their mental life.
The Dream SMP doesn’t talk it out, hell the talking club was just destroyed because they preferred fists over words. So why do you think everything is going out with a fight, if it’s all they learned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Priced Possessions
Every character has to something a connection.
Might it be Percy Jackson and his sword
Might it be Harry with his glasses, broomstick and wand
Frodo and his stupid ring
For Tommy we all know it’s his ender chest inside and secret chest. He keeps many belongings in his chests and always has been one for those things. He kept flowers, compasses, Friendship signs and most importantly, his discs.
The care for something of items are important. Might it be a teddy, old photo or jewelry. People get protective over it, because it holds sentimental value to the person.
If you ask me, to let go of my teddy bear, I will show you my middle finger. Probably beat you up too.
You can’t just throw out your memories into a fire or pit of lava. This is just showing you never had a care and everything you had a memory with it before would have been gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
History/Backstory
We don’t have much here, but still something to work with.
A Hero doesn’t have an easy live. And it’s an said thing that every Hero needs an origin Story.
Tommy, said not really anything about his past.
All we know is that Tommy didn’t have anyone, presumably an Orphan, he knew the sleepy bois already a long time ago and he never learned on how to ride a bike, saying he never really had a family.
Signs that he didn’t even leave half a good life are:
· his knowledge on stealing and preferring this over working for it
· Liking to live in weird spaces like carved out holes in sides of hills (his hobbit hole or the basement by Techno) or living in his tent over a hole house
· His liking of cobblestone and dirt, which are easy gettable blocks
· Holding his goodies and friends close to him
· Craving for attention or contact in general
And now for the part with the dream SMP.
We saw how it changed him. We saw his trauma and all the bad things that happened to him.
And that’s why we say his actions came from those past experiences and things. We are NOT excusing them, but showing. Past trauma CHANGES a person. It brings experience and a heavy amount of pain and anger. ESPECIALLY at a young age, you will change due to your experience in life. You will grow worried and anxious. Tommy did that. He grew more anxious, angry, scared and also experienced.
Stop saying trauma doesn’t explain it. Yes. It does. His lashing out came from his past and negative experience. Imagine growing up in a world where this is the norm. War and banishing. As well as death. Tommy has reasons why he is acting and does stuff.
Understand it. You don’t have to forgive him or anything. But understand it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moral and the story the character tells us
When we see Tommy, we see a boy who went nearly through it all. Mental/Physical Abuse, Abandonment, War, Suicidal thoughts, betrayal, Death, etc…
He doesn’t show forgiveness for his abuser. Still has signs, that he fights with the past abuse, but he tells us a story of learning from past mistakes, that even in the darkest hours, there’s a way out. Things will, can and be ugly and those are dark hours, but in no way should you think that it’s over. Life is more than one way and can always turn into a new direction.
Life takes something old away from you. Life gives you something new. You lose someone, you find someone new. Friends can turn into enemies. Enemies can turn into friends. You can meet the weirdest people. You can meet the most amazing people. You can be alone and in the next second, you’re not. You will often lose, but you also can win if you give everything.
Life can be weird and that’s okay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Fazit (that’s german)
The thing is, he is very real for many viewers such as myself. He acts like how many teenagers his age reacts.
He doesn’t be “baby”, because he shows the “ugly” sides of trauma. He shows that attachments are good and you shouldn’t forgive your abuser. In no way. He shows that acting out and lashing out are two things that happen, when you have been in wars for many times and nearly just know that.
He has many flaws and mistakes but those make him even more real. He is showing how he is growing.
As a person, friend, (pseudo-)family.
He is real to many of the viewer since he doesn’t have any powers that are existing in our world to solve their problems. He knows that nobody would have helped him and Tubbo against Dream if he didn’t pay others.
Also that you can’t be friends with everyone and that it’s okay that not everybody likes you.
Tommy´s character is the most human and realistic character in a way of how we would react. We are humans who are lashing out and who are having ugly sides.
And also please stop saying that, since I really can relate to Tommy and I don’t want to be feeling like a “bad-written Character”…
And Don’t even get me started on Tommy’s acting dude!
He is one of the best actors and that one livestreams! In from off 200.000 – 600.000 People!
On the face cam alone is so much to see…
· You can see his face with each emotion shifting,
· when something funnily weird happens, he looks dead eyes in the camera
The voice acting…
· His breathing,
· the stuttering in his voice,
· THE GODDAMN EMOTIONS IN HIS FACE
HIS MUSIC CHOICE!
· He changes the music fitting for the situations as in fighting scenes or funny moments.
· He also has some funny bits with his music.
· Like a goddam DJ!
The ingame character
· His movements and head stares
· The jumping around when he gets overactive
· Long stops when he thinks or is sad!
You can see, I am a person from Tumblr and saw way too much bullshit around tommys character.
Stop critiquing him so badly.
You could say, I woke up and chose violence
>:D
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a gift for @isamijoo as part of the Wheel of Drarry Mini Exchange🥰💞thank you to @curlyy-hair-dont-care for the beta!
wc: 1.7k | rating: G
Not All Heroes Wear Capes, But Mine Sure Does
Draco Malfoy, Editor in Chief of Witch Weekly Magazine, eyes his watch and then the stack of paperwork on his desk. He knows he should stay and get through at least half the pile before lunch, but there is also a photoshoot going on in Studio B right this very second that he wouldn’t mind overseeing. Only because the photoshoot is such an important project for the magazine. Not because of the presence of a certain someone at said photoshoot, not at all.
I’m the Editor in Chief of the damn magazine and I can go wherever I like, he decides. He nods his head as if confirming his own thoughts and exits his office to head towards the studio.
Draco had begun working at the offices of Witch Weekly soon after he finished his community service sentence. Starting as a lowly clerk, his ability to charm and enamour as needed, had him slowly but surely climbing the ranks.
Now, at twenty-five, Draco is the youngest Editor in Chief in the history of Witch Weekly. Soon after his promotion, he had recruited Pansy as a columnist and Blaise as a photographer, both of whom are involved in today’s shoot.
And what a shoot it is, Draco thinks with more than a little satisfaction. Featuring the Golden Trio, the rest of the Weasley clan minus Percy who was “just too busy to make it”, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, the Patil twins, and Lavender Brown, it’s going to be printed as a special edition with all proceeds going to the War Orphan’s Trust. Incidentally, it’s also one of the most— if not the most— star-studded spread in the magazine’s history. Blaise will photograph all the volunteers in various costumes and get-ups, while Pansy will interview them on the side.
When the idea was first proposed, Draco had been sceptical. While the others were less recalcitrant, Potter was well-known for his dislike of modelling of any kind. He hated being in front of a camera, and everybody in the press corps knew it. Without Potter, the venture wouldn’t necessarily fail, but it would definitely not generate as much profit. Draco had meant to ask formally, perhaps through an official letter bearing the magazine’s seal. Instead, he found himself asking Potter at the weekly inter-house pub night, a tradition started in eighth year that— inexplicably— continued well past Hogwarts. Surprisingly, Potter had agreed with minimal fuss. He wasn’t happy about it, but he had agreed nonetheless.
Reaching the studio door, Draco takes a moment to brush non-existent dirt off his suit jacket and straighten his already straight tie, before pushing open the door. There are a fair amount of people milling around, talking and laughing. He can see Weasley, Finnegan and Thomas near the refreshments table. Charlie Weasley is talking animatedly with Luna while Longbottom listens with a bemused expression. Ginerva and George are slowly turning singular strands of Hermione’s hair purple as she talks passionately with Lavender. The Patil twins are having their makeup done, and Bill Weasley is being interviewed by Pansy.
Draco takes all this in with a cursory glance, his attention instantly drawn towards the man currently posing for the camera, like a compass finding true north.
Harry Potter stands in front of the camera, wearing a gladiator’s skirt cinched with a belt adorned with a golden lion, a red cape adorning his broad shoulders. A sheathed sword hangs at his waist. On his feet are black leather sandals, the straps of which rope around his muscular calves. Without his trademark glasses, his eyes look impossibly brighter. His bronze skin practically gleams under the lights. Presumably, someone had applied oil on him at some point. Draco hastily pushes away all thoughts of hands and oil and Potter out of his mind. Potter’s hair looks artfully tousled instead of its usual mess— a near-miraculous feat if you ask Draco. He makes a mental note to jot down the name of the hair stylist for future photoshoots. The thought is there and then gone because just then, Potter draws the sword hanging at his waist, and Merlin and Morgana, Draco was not prepared to see Harry bloody Potter looking like a hero out of a Greek legend.
Draco lets out an involuntary whimper.
“Hello, Draco.”
Draco quickly snaps his gaze away from Potter to find Hermione looking at him with an amused expression. The purple streaks are gone from her hair— she’d probably known what Ginerva and George were up to the whole time. Meanwhile, Draco had been so busy ogling Potter, he hadn’t even seen Hermione approach him. He flushes faintly and attempts to sound like the Editor in Chief of a major publication rather than what he actually feels like— a schoolboy with a pash. “Hello, Hermione. I hope everything is going smoothly?”
Hermione grins. “Yes, it’s all been rather fun actually. Reminds me a bit of Sunday lunch at the Burrow, what with so many people around.”
“Good, that’s good to hear,” Draco says distractedly, attention already straying back to Potter.
“Harry’s looking rather good, isn’t he?” Hermione asks nonchalantly, following Draco’s gaze.
“What? Oh, yes, yes of course. Now that you mention it, he is. That is, I mean, the stylists did a brilliant job. Especially with his hair, it usually looks like a bird's nest,” Draco lets out a strained chuckle, his cheeks burning. He never should have come down here. Merlin.
Hermione presses her lips together, her eyes bright with amusement. “You should tell him that yourself, he’ll like it,” she gestures behind Draco.
Draco turns, and sure enough, Potter’s coming off the set towards them. He doesn’t even stop to change into regular clothes, for fucks sake. How is one supposed to hold a conversation with him looking like that?
“I’ll leave you two to it then, got some catching up to do with Parvati,” Hermione says, grinning wickedly. Before Draco can say another word, she’s already gone.
Cursing internally, he turns to face Potter, determined to keep his attention on Potter’s face and his face only. Not that that’s not distracting enough. Pushing the unhelpful thought away, Draco opens his mouth to greet Potter. What comes out is, “That’s quite a get-up you’ve got going on.”
Oh joy, already off to an excellent start. Draco cringes internally but forces himself to smile in what he hopes is a pleasant manner.
Potter laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, I do feel pretty ridiculous in all this. They’ve even strapped a bloody sword on me. I barely know how to handle it.”
“Looked like you were doing alright, actually,” Draco says before his mind can catch up with his mouth.
“Oh, er, thanks Draco,” Potter smiles bashfully, bringing his hand up to ruffle his hair. Draco’s eyes helplessly follow the flex of his bicep.
Snapping back to attention, he grasps for something other than Potter’s sword-wielding skills to talk about.
"I have to say though, I was quite surprised when you agreed to this. It's no secret you dislike photoshoots immensely," is what he lands on. It’s something he’s been wondering about and he wouldn’t mind knowing what made Potter agree to do this.
“Yeah, I don’t much like being treated as if I’m some celebrity and I’ve never been good in front of a camera. I would have said no but well…” he trails off, looking at Draco intently. “You’re the one who asked, so,” Potter shrugs as if that clears everything up.
Draco blinks. In a dazzling display of eloquence, he says, "What?"
Potter flushes, but he looks determined. "I agreed to do this because I know this photoshoot is important to you. Not just this shoot, the magazine as a whole. I know that you’ve worked hard to make it into something much more than just another gossip rag. So, um, you know, I did it for you,” he rubs the back of his neck, his face flushed crimson. “It also helps that it’s for charity,” he adds, chuckling awkwardly.
Draco gapes. “But...why?” he manages, bewildered.
“Draco,” Potter huffs. “Because I care about you. As in, I have feelings for you. I thought you would have guessed by now, it’s not like I’m great at subtlety. Pretty much everyone else knows,” he smiles nervously.
Oh. Oh.
“You have feelings for— wait, everyone knows?” Draco demands. “And no one thought to tell me?” He hates his friends, really truly despises them all.
Potter’s eyes crinkle with the force of his smile. “Wait so, what are you saying?”
Draco rolls his eyes, attempting to sound cool and collected even though he feels practically giddy. “I’m saying, Potter, that I have had “feelings for you” as you put it, for an embarrassingly long time. And everyone knows,” he says, cheeks pinking. “Well, everyone except you, apparently,” he amends.
Potter laughs delightedly. “To be fair, you didn’t catch on to my feelings for you either.”
“We’re rather ridiculous, aren’t we?” Draco says, laughing ruefully.
“Well, we’re both in the know now, so how about we go for a celebratory dinner?” Potter asks, eyes bright.
“Good idea,” Draco says, attempting— and failing— to keep a straight face.
“Potter!” Pansy’s voice cuts across the room.
“Time for your interview it seems,” Draco says.
“Yeah, although I do have some questions for her myself,” Potter says, squinting at Pansy.
“Oh, I will absolutely be having words with her. And Hermione,” Draco huffs.
Potter smiles at him, and it’s such a wide, unrestrained thing, Draco’s heart misses a beat. “I’ll see you after, then?” he asks.
Draco nods, smile softening. “Pick me up at seven, you already know the address.”
Potter flashes him one last smile before walking towards Pansy’s corner.
Draco watches him go with what is most definitely a besotted smile on his face before turning around to leave. His steps falter when he sees all of their friends staring at him, expressions torn between unbridled glee and despair. He frowns— until he catches sight of Ron glumly handing over a handful of Galleons to a triumphant George.
“You absolute pillocks, did you place bets on Harry and me?” he asks in disbelief.
“It’s a lucrative business,” George winks.
“Sorry Draco,” Lavender says, not looking sorry at all as she pockets the coins Padma grudgingly hands her.
“I hate you all,” Draco informs them cheerfully as he heads towards the hallway, professionalism be damned. He hears them laughing as he steps into the hallway, but he’s too elated to be properly pissed off at their machinations. He’ll get back at all of them soon enough, but for now he has a stack of paperwork to finish— he can’t be late for his date after all.
read on ao3
#am i posting this solely bc i got excited about making a banner?#yes. yes i am#drarry#drarry fic#wheel of drarry mini exchange#fluff and humor#ty to the microfic discord for enabling me😌
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Only Us [G.W.]
Pairing: George Weasley x Diggory!reader
Summary: Based on the song Only Us from the musical Dear Evan Hansen; George and y/N have suffered great losses that only united them even more.
Musical Hogwarts || Hogwarts Masterlist
If I Could Tell Her (Series)
A/N: This ends a journey! Thank you everyone! See you for the next song!
*gif not mine
Words: 2.100+
Tag List: @enjoying-fantasyland21 @stuckindilemma @boredoffmebox
It took a while and a couple of awkward dinners, but you and George were finally close again.
Whenever you got free time at work, you’d Apparate at the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and you’d hang out with George and Ron.
When you got home too tired to cook, you’d pop in the Burrow — George wasn’t up to go back to the flat yet — and Molly would happily put an extra plate for you.
Molly Weasley never told you, but she loved having you around. She noticed the effect you had on George — he was now in a mood way better than he had been since the loss of his twin.
Tonight, Harry Potter had invited the Weasleys to feast with him in his newly bought house. You could tell he only wanted to take Ginny, but Mrs Weasley would never allow that, so the whole family had to be invited. Surprisingly, that meant you too now.
“George, have you memorized the address?” Molly asked while helping Mr Weasley with his suit.
“Of course, mum, I know where Godric’s Hollow is,” George replied in a mocking tone. Every wizard knew the village.
“Well, then you should go and get y/N,” Molly choose to ignore her son’s tone. She knew he was too old for her to reprehend. “I’ll take the rest of the kids.”
“We’re not kids anymore!” shouted an angry Ginny and Ron from upstairs, making George roll his eyes. They weren’t kids, but they sure sounded like it.
George got up and took a last look at himself. He wasn’t taking extra care because of Harry — that was Ginny, and weirdly enough, Molly — but because of y/N.
You were best friends for the first time, and he felt good being by your side — it felt right. It was odd that Fred couldn’t be there to see it.
“Y/N?” George knocked at the Diggory’s house door.
Gladly, who opened was you and not your parents. George then remembered they were travelling and not home.
“Ready to go?” he asked you.
“Just need to get my shoes!” you warned, leaving the door open for him to walk in.
He always felt uncomfortable at the Diggoorys house — yes, it was a better house than his, but it gave weird vibes. It didn’t seem like y/N’s house, only her parents’. And maybe Cedric’s. It was too yellow.
You walked downstairs, with the shoes on.
You looked beautiful — with a short pastel green dress, with a round skirt. Your hair was tied up in a high ponytail. George couldn’t help but smile; he wanted you.
“Ready now,” you informed and George got up from the couch.
“Then, let’s go,” he offered you his arm which you took. “I know the address.”
You had never been to Godric’s Hollow, and you know questioned why. It looked morbid, although it seemed to be changing — the new houses were more bright, bringing light to the place. Harry’s house was one of the prettiest.
As soon as you and George arrived, Mr and Mrs Weasley appeared out of thin air too, with Ron and Ginny behind.
It was Molly who knocked on the door.
“Come on in, come on in!” Harry smiled at his guests, opening the front door. “Fleur and Bill are already here,” he added.
A line formed to get in — Ron, you and George, followed by Mr and Mrs Weasley. Ginny was the last one because she wanted to kiss her boyfriend without you all seeing it.
You headed to say hi to Bill and Fleur — you didn’t know them that well, but you were at their wedding, so it wasn’t awkward.
Molly seemed sad because Charlie and Percy wouldn’t be able to come, but Harry assured it was no problem.
Inside, the house was prettier than from outside. It looked too white though, probably because it was recently bought and Harry hadn’t had the time to decorate with his personal touch.
Hermione was the last one to arrive, but she rushed to Ron’s side like she had been there the whole night.
Everybody was happy, and the food was delicious — it was only when your plate was empty that you noticed that was your first celebration since the end of the war.
George seemed to be thinking the same because, all of a sudden, you two were the only sad, sentimental faces on the table. You didn’t want to be a bother, so you excused yourself, saying you wanted to walk around Godric’s Hollow — it was, after all, your first time there.
Ginny suggest to escort you, but George interrupted, saying he could do it. Even though you wanted to be alone, you didn’t complain — George would forever be welcomed near you.
One step outside and you squeezed yourself in your coat, hoping it was enough. It seemed this year’s Winter was going to be super cold.
George walked around you in silence.
“Harry’s parents died here, didn’t they?” you asked.
“Yep,” Goerge sighed. “How did you—?”
“The way he talks about this place. It is how I talk about Hogwarts,” you shrugged, keeping your arms crossed.
“It’s how I talk about Hogwarts too,” George said, making you stop walking and look at him.
Although dark, you could see his eyes with no problem. You uncrossed your arms and hugged George, stretching on tiptoe, practically putting all your weight on the boy. It took him a minute to hug you back, such had been his surprise.
For a minute, you two just stood there, holding each other as if your lives depended on it. At least, the cold wasn’t bothering you anymore.
George was loving that moment. Unbelievably, you and he had never hugged before, and now he didn’t want to let go of you. He seized the moment, trying to save in his memory how nice your body felt like close to his; how sweet was your smell; how comfortable was your embrace.
He didn’t know, however, that you were doing the same.
“George?” you whispered, in his ear —the only one left — while laying your head on his shoulder. “Why did we never tried?”
George froze. “What?” he managed to say.
You stepped back, leaving his embrace. Both didn’t like it, but you knew it had to be done. You two needed to talk about the elephant in the room.
“Why did we never...” you looked for the right word “date?”
“Oh...” George waited for that moment for so long, he was scared his answer would ruin it. “I guess we were never this close before.”
“Yes, but wasn’t I nice?— I mean, you know me since forever; we’re neighbours,” you pointed out.
“Of course you were — you are — nice! You’re perfect, but look at me,” George answered, his tone a little louder. “I was always this odd dude in the shadow of great brothers, and, now, I’m just this broken man...”
His voice died out.
“Georgie! You’re not broken!” you shouted, stretching your arms towards him. “If you are, then so am I!”
George turned away, he couldn’t face it. How could you possibly want him? There was nothing there to want.
“I don’t need you to sell me on reasons to want you,” you sighed, reaching for his shoulder with your left hand. “I don’t need you to search for the proof that I should.”
He still avoided looking back at you.
“You don’t have to convince me,” you continued, lowering your voice to a calmer tone. “You don’t have to be scared you’re not enough ‘cause what we’ve got going is good.”
You dropped your hand at your side, giving up calling on him. You took a few steps towards Harry’s house, but you knew you shouldn’t walk away yet. You wanted George, more than anything.
If he didn’t want you, that was fine. But you knew that if you left now, you would lose him forever, even as a friend.
“I don’t need more reminders of all that’s been broken,” you said, turning back at his direction. “I don’t need you to fix what I’d rather forget.”
He finally turned to face you. He had a sad look in his eyes as if he was concerned about you. You didn’t care; you didn’t need pity.
“Clear the slate and start over; try to quiet the noises in your head,” you continued. “We can’t compete with all that.”
George took a step towards you, but you avoided his eyes.
“So what if it’s us? What if it’s us and only us?” you proposed when he reached you. He raised his brows, amazed with your words. “And what came before won’t count anymore or matter; can we try that?”
You didn’t like it when George was quiet. It made you feel like he was thinking of a way to say no.
“What if it’s you, and what if it’s me? And what if that’s all that we need it to be,” you suggested, tiptoeing so you could finally stare him in the eye. “And the rest of the world falls away? What do you say?”
For Merlin, George, just say something!
It was like he was thinking the same, or as if he heard your thoughts.
“I never thought there’d be someone like you who would want me,” he started, overthinking it so he wouldn’t stutter. “So I give you ten thousand reasons to not let me go, but if you really see me; if you like me for me and nothing else... Well, that’s all that I’ve wanted for longer than you could possibly know.”
You didn’t know if George could tell you were smiling over the tears that fell from your eyes. You couldn’t believe he wanted you too — you couldn’t believe he had been wanting you for a long time now.
“So it can be us and only us,” George kept going, “and what came before won’t count anymore or matter. We can try that.”
“It’s not so impossible,” you widened your smile, but tears were still there.
“Nobody else but the two of us here,” George suggested, reaching for both of your hands and holding it in his.
“‘Cause you’re saying it’s possible,” you squeezed your eyes. “We can just watch the whole world disappear.”
“‘Til you’re the only one I still know how to see, ” he smiled too. “It’s just you and me.”
“We can try that, you and me. That’s all that we need it to be,” you pressed George’s hands, unable to keep your happiness to yourself.
However, his hands were no longer in yours — they reached for your face, bringing you closer. He kissed you, at first just a soft touch of lips, but then it became a whole sensation, something you had never felt before.
Back at Hogwarts, the Weasley twins had quite a reputation, but you never imagined that George could be so good at this. The cold of Godric’s Hollow now felt like just a summer breeze, such was the warmth that George made you feel from inside out.
His tongue danced with yours, not as a battle for dominance, but as a stroke of relief. His touch took over your entire body, and your hands were also lost in George’s extent.
You could have stayed there forever, but your consciousness reminded you that you were a guest at Potter’s.
“We need, huh,” it was hard to speak when George tried to kiss you, “to get back inside.”
“Yes, I think that’d be reasonable,” although his words agreed with you, his lips didn’t leave yours.
“George, we have all the time in the world,” you said, finally pulling away.
“I hope you’re right, y/N.”
He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. He held your hand until you two were almost opening Harry’s door.
You looked down at the hands. “Do you wanna tell them?”
“I have a good guess they know,” George smirked. You pretended to be angry but ended up giggling.
“Though it was only us,” you replied.
He squeezed your hand.
“It has been that for a while now,” he pointed out.
You thought about it for a second, but he was right. You were all the time with the Weasleys, and even though they were kind, it was only with George that you had long conversations and joked around. It was at George’s job that you spend your free time.
It had been you and George for a while now, and his family knew it before you.
You smiled, giving in, and opened the door. It was a happy night at Godric’s Hollow. The village no longer looked morbid for you.
#george weasley#george weasley imagine#Fred and George Weasley#Fred and George#george weasley x reader#hp#harry potter#godrics hollow#fred weasley#cedric diggory#burrow#ron weasley#hp fanfic#george weasley x diggory reader#george weasley x slytherin reader
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R I N O K U M U R A / H L Y S I N S
Social rules and etiquette always eluded the demon; coming to a big city like New York was perhaps the last thing the exorcist in training should have done. The buildings here were less intriguing than he had found Kyoto Tower to be. He was drawn out of his thoughts as he felt someone else bump into him; he had been pushed around one too many times today. A scowl soon found a home on his features as he turned around. ❝ What the hell, man? Can’t you see I’m standing here?! ❞ He inquired bitterly, despite having been the one standing there staring up at the skyline. Ever the hot head, he found no fault within himself. He had come a long way since walking around with his tail visible and had gotten the perfect lie to explain away his ears and teeth. He was only here on some stupid exchange that Mephisto had set up despite his protests. ❝ Try that again, and you’ll be wearing that coffee of yours. ❞ He hadn’t even been in the city for a full day and was already about to start fights with the locals.
❝ Geez, everybody in this city has no damn manners. What the hell are you all in a rush for? ❞ He demanded, certainly calling the kettle black. He had the mind to start a fight, hoping it would send him back home. Studying abroad would not help him get to the point in which he could beat the shit out of Satan. Here he had to be even more careful about his true nature and what he did, begrudgingly following the guidelines placed upon him. The only good thing about being halfway across the world was that Shura and Yukio were nowhere to be found. ❝ What the hell’s got you so preoccupied you can’t see that I am standing here, huh? ❞ He asked, once more neglecting that the entire ordeal was his fault — standing in the way on a busy New York street with little regard to the social norms and rules of the city he was in.
Arms soon folded over his chest, eyes narrowed angrily. Finding his way around the city would be problematic, and part of his annoyance came from the fact that he was lost, far too proud, and too stubborn to ask anyone for directions. ❝ Why don’t I just start shovin’ all of you around and see how you like it! ❞ He decided, lashing out at the new world he felt trapped in. His entire life had been spent learning that his immense strength and letting his emotions run rampant were wrong and that he needed to learn to control himself for the sake of those around him, but Shiro had taught him to embrace everything that he was and that the burdens he carried were not something he had to do alone. Despite that, he felt alone here, like he had been shipped off to another country, all for the sake and comfort of those around him who rejected him.
❝ Dammit. Could you tell me how to get to this dumbass school? ❞ He inquired, finally giving in and asking for directions.
@okeancs // ft. okumura rin
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒. Bustling city streets, the ever immense symphony of sound gave him a sense of comfort like no other. Sure, camp was nice and all but during the summers, Percy missed life in the city that never sleeps. Despite the CHAOS of the river of people flowing through the concrete jungle, there was ORDER. Unspoken rules every New Yorker knew - rules like never stop in the middle of the sidewalk, especially during rush hour.
Perhaps he was DISTRACTED himself ( his adhd never helped him stay FOCUSED anyways ) after all, he knew his way like the back of his hand, he was only following the flow of people when he felt his shoulder colliding with something SOLID.
The son of the sea barely had time to register what happened before he was met with a series of angry remarks. Sea green hues blinked, staring blankly at the unfamiliar male in front of him as he processed. Normally, he would just mutter a quick apology and be on his way but that’s when the son of the sea noticed... FANGS? Is he..? His eyes narrowed, waiting to see if the mist would fade away but, alas nothing. The half - blood could only see fangs and pointed ears. If he wasn't human, then what? ( Damn... Only if he had paid attention in CHIRON’S lectures )
〝 Look, man, my bad. 〞 He was about to turn around and continue his commute when the other spoke up. 〝 HUH? 〞 Dumbass school? He glanced down at his own hoodie, the letters NAU printed in silver across a sea of navy fabric.
〝 You mean NEW ATHENS UNI? 〞
#hlysins#( hlysins 001 )#♆ | 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 | threads.#blue exorcist verse.#♆ | 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐔𝐄 | queue.#ofc!#I absolutely love your rin so i just had to follow ya#im so excited for this#also please bare with me#I don't know how to use the new editor and trim posts and such
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Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/76358372
Chapter 58
Nick could tell from the start that this party was going to be a success. Everybody visited to congratulate him and to assure him that the Golden God of Rock was back in all his glory. Nick was especially surprised by one guest that was barely seen in public nowadays. People had already started to wonder if he had become antisocial. If his face wasn’t to be seen all over Wellington Wells they could’ve wondered if he even existed.
Well, there he was, smiling warmly, seemingly unaffected by the little stir he had caused.
“Uncle Jack“, Nick said shaking his hand. “I’m so glad you could come.“
“Nick, it’s wonderful to see you again. I must admit I was a tiny bit worried about you.“
“Worried?“, Nick repeated and forced a laugh. “Oh no, there’s nothing to worry about. I just had too good of a time.“ He led Uncle Jack inside.
“I’m glad to hear that. Without you, the town would lose it’s icon.“
Nick laughed again. “But Uncle Jack, you’re the town’s icon.“
“Not to me“, Jack replied in a tone that made Nick look directly at him.
“That’s why I invited you“, he said half joking and half flattered. “You’re always cheering me up.“
“You were doing the same for me, since the first time I saw you.“
Nick lowered his voice. “You remember that?“
“Fondly“, Jack affirmed. “You were young and ambitious, you and The Make Believes, when you appeared in my show for the first time. You were representing a better world, a happier world. I thought from the start that you were exactly what we needed. I must admit that you were also what I needed. I remember playing your first record every day. Without you, I wouldn’t be the same person I am now.“
“It’s mutual, I think…“ Nick said. “We…I wouldn’t be the same without your help.“
“Isn’t it fascinating, how we all depend on each other?“
“Uh…yeah…Isn’t it also wonderful?“
“Indeed. But fragile. One little change can turn everything upside down.“
Jack gave him a meaningful glance. Nick didn’t know what to say about that.
“Ah, well, I don’t mean to waste your time. We both busy men, you and I. Will you give a performance later?“
“Uh…sure.“
“Splendid! I’m looking forward to that. See you around.“
When Uncle Jack left, Nick noticed that his heart was pounding heavily and he was clinging to a side table as if he was about to fall over.
“Are you okay?“ Morrie approached him, having squeezed himself through a group of admirers.
“Yeah…just…having a break…“, Nick assured him.
Morrie gestured towards the famous host. “He’s a real surprise, right? I thought he doesn’t show up in public anymore.“
“Yeah, me too. But he’s very happy to see me…us again.“
Morrie’s expression changed. He looked at Jack and then back at Nick.
“Only in my dreams, Morrie“, Nick said poking his lover’s shoulder. “He’s a fan, that’s all.“
Morrie relaxed again and Nick let go of the table.
“Are you okay?“, he returned the question to his lover.
“I’m getting there“, Morrie answered. “I’m looking forward to get on stage again. These celebrities come too close and keep asking the same questions.“
“So, nothing changed.“ Nick gave him a smile.
It didn’t take long until a new crowd was gathering around the two stars and Nick gave them all his attention until he managed to get away. But then Morrie was also gone.
Nick knew he couldn’t stick to him all night but he wanted to make sure he was in a good mood most of the time.
Suddenly, a flashlight caught his eye. Nick quickly posed for the camera and then found out who the photographer was.
Of course he was there!
If not for Nick, then for doing his job.
Nick looked at him in silence for too long to be natural, before he walked over to him and casually shook his hand.
“Hi Arthur. You’re having fun?“, he said very unnaturally.
Also Arthur looked uncomfortable.
“Can I talk to you in private?“, he only asked.
“Sure. Uh…follow me.“
Nick led him out of the crowded room, inwardly praying that Morrie didn’t see him. There was no way to hide that he was walking upstairs with another man.
He also hesitated about where to go. He didn’t want to be caught in his bedroom with Arthur, but he also didn’t want to go into the guest room where Morrie slept, so he hurried into the storage room instead. Arthur was probably confused.
“No one will expect us here“, Nick shortly explained before he went back to the point. “So…what did you want to tell me?“ He noticed it came out colder than it was supposed to.
Arthur was taken aback by all this. There was something off in Nick’s behaviour that made him afraid he had misjudged their relationship.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?“, he gave the question back.
“Hey, don’t make this confusing. I asked you first“. Nick made an effort to sound playful.
“Do you remember anything I told you? Or did you take Joy and forgot?“
The playful manner vanished. “I remember everything you said.“
“So why the fuck do you have nothing to say?“, Arthur suddenly blurted out. “Is that why you didn’t come back? Because you don’t care?“
“Now, wait, I just wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself!“, Nick said with held up hands.
“Explain myself? All I asked you for was a place in your life!“
“Oh, no, that’s not what you said! I might look like a stupid Wellie but I remember it all! You said you’re gonna leave the town!“
“Come on, Nick! You never complained about my unusual thoughts before! I thought you wouldn’t make a fuss about it!“
“Is this a joke? What were you thinking? Why did you bother me if you wanted to leave anyway? Do you have any idea how risky it was to meet you? To let you into my house? This could’ve ended my career for good!“
“I had the feeling you enjoyed our meetings!“, Arthur snapped back. “And sorry for risking your career while I only risked my bloody life for you!“
“Oh, I’m sorry too! It must be hard to get the thrills as a Downer! Of course you needed a rock star to cheer you up before you go! I was so blind!“ Nick rolled his eyes.
“Nick, you completely miss the point!“, Arthur was almost begging now. “Are you trying to avoid an answer or do you really not get it?“
“I got it all, don’t you worry! It’s either I abandon my whole life for you or you’ll say ’Bye, Nicky! It was nice with you but now I’ll get myself a new playmate!’
“What?“ Arthur was shocked. “Do you think that’s what you are?“
“Well, what else should I think?“
They eyed each other.
“Okay…just forget what I said about leaving the town“, Arthur tried to save the conversation. “Just forget it! I was only thinking out loud, okay?“
Nick furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand.“
“Can you answer me one simple question, Nick?“ His eyes were pleading.
Nick could barely look at him. He felt like now was the last chance to run away from all this. But it would be so unfair. Arthur had the right to be heard. So Nick nodded.
“Will you let me into your life? Will you share your bed with me so I can wake up every morning with you by my side? Will you allow me to stay near you so I can spend all the little moments of everyday life with you as if we were a normal couple? As if nothing about me was weird? Will you do that for me, Nick?“
Once again this evening, Nick’s heart was racing.
He realized that Arthur’s feelings were true, no matter how twisted his mind eventually was.
This was all wrong. Or was it?
Nick grabbed his hair, nervous and ashamed. “Oh, Arthur…I…that would be wonderful…but what does it matter if it’s gonna be over anyway?“
“Don’t think about that for now“, Arthur urged him. They’d find a way, right? Perhaps Nick would accidentally forget to take his pills or something…for an hour or so…and see the truth. He was definitely not putting Percy behind his own well-being, right?
“We don’t have to run away immediately. We could prepare. Or stay…it doesn’t matter. Just think about us.“
Nick pressed his eyes shut. “Arthur…“ He gulped. “I don’t have much hope…for us…“ It tasted awful to say. “You are so determined about leaving…I see it’s very important to you to get out of here…you never tried to…fit back in…even though you have many options…“
He stared at somewhere in a corner while he felt Arthur’s gaze on him. “But I…this is my home…I love this town. It’s not perfect, but…I’m neither. Letting me out is probably not a good idea“, he tried to joke, but Arthur’s look made him stop.
“You…you mean…“ Arthur sounded like he was at the edge of tears. “You are…?“ He couldn’t finish this sentence.
“Arthur, believe me, I’d love to live with you! But if you plan to leave, then…I…I’m afraid I’m not the right one for you.“
The last words came out very quiet. Still, to Arthur they felt as subtle as hitting him in the stomach with a hammer.
“You’re breaking up with me? Just like that?“, he shouted.
“I…I think it’s better for both of us…“ Nick lamely said.
“But Nick, you can’t do that to me! I’m sorry if I upset you! Why don’t we…forget it all and start over again? We might be an odd couple, but I think it’s worth it!“
Nick had to fight back his own tears. He should’ve felt better, finally coming to terms with what he wanted. But it felt like watching an execution.
“I’m sorry, Arthur…I think we should part ways…I’m thankful for what you did for me…“
“No, you’re not!“, Arthur snapped. “You used me just like everyone else! You didn’t even plan to tell me about it, right? You didn’t show up, I had to look for you again! Did you hope I forget?“
“I…I thought you’ll leave…“
“How wonderful! All this time I was worried about you, you’ve already abandoned me! And you don’t care! That’s low even for your standards!“
“Arthur, I’m sorry…“
“No, you’re not! But thanks for telling me that I don’t have to waste more time on you! And now I know that everything they say about you is true! And you’re right, you should stay here! This hellhole is exactly where you belong! But don’t complain later if you starve…or get poisoned…or start to talk backwards…!“
Ranting, he ran out of the room.
Nick darted after him. “Arthur!“, he yelled. “Arthur, wait!“
Then he dashed into Morrie and froze.
“Just go on“, Morrie said sarcastically. “Don’t let me stop you two with whatever you’re doing.“
Nick stared at Arthur who was disappearing in a crowd of happily chattering guests, leaving forever this time, and Nick could only watch. His look must’ve said everything.
“Morrie, believe me, this is not about us!“
“Oh, no, it’s about you and him. I got that.“
“I really need to go after him!“, Nick begged, eyeing the group the Downer had merged into.
“Would you mind if I come with you?,“ Morrie asked cooly.
Nick gave him a look.
“Alright, I get it. I wonder what a petty explanation you’ll have for this. But don’t expect me to believe you this time.“
“Morrie!“
“No, don’t ’Morrie’ me!“, his lover snapped. “I’m done with your excuses! I’m done with explaining myself! I told you everything and it just doesn’t work! I gave you so many chances!“
Nick backed away. “Listen to yourself! You sound like you caught me in bed with him, but none of that happened!“
“Not today!“, Morrie countered. “That’s what you learned in all those years! You’re not so stupid to betray me on front of my eyes! But I’m not stupid either, Norbert!“
“Ssshhh!“ Nick gestured wildly.
“What? Still afraid of your own name? As if your whole image would fall apart if it came out? It should’ve been a warning for me! Everything about you is fake! You’re built on lies, with a fake name, fake hair, fake beard and songs that aren’t yours…You’re so proud of your lies, right, Norbert?“
“What does that have to do with anything? Why did you come back to me if you hate everything about me?“
“Because I thought there was a better person under all these layers! The one I remember! But did he ever exist, or was that another lie you’re proud of?“
“I don’t know what you mean…I’m just myself…“
“I was afraid you’d say that! Then why did you promise me to change yourself if that’s not your plan at all?“
“I…I’m trying to do what you want…If that’s so important to you…but Morrie, I’m not a teenager anymore! You changed too!“
“Not as much as you! You sold yourself to become a star! I still have my pride!“
“Right, you never liked it… You never understood…That’s why you had no success as a solo star! You hate the press, you hate your fans, you hate other musicians and then you wonder why nobody likes you! You blame it all on me but you never admit your own mistakes!“
Morrie’s face turned a bit more pale, his expression could’ve been described as upset or shocked.
“I also thought you’d change“, Nick went on. “But the longer I live with you the more you act like the hater you’ve been before, just waiting for me to make another mistake you can hate me for. Maybe we’ve both been living a lie.“
“All I ask you for is one simple thing! Don’t lie to me!“
“And I asked you to trust me!“
“I’m sorry, but I know when you’re lying! Do you expect me to ignore that?“
“You could trust me to sort it out…“
“Oh, great!“, Morrie’s words were tripping with sarcasm. “How long will that take? Do you think I’ll be waiting forever until you make up your mind?“
“I’m sorry, but…I can’t…“ Nick stuttered and then ran upstairs to the third floor.
“Where are you going?“ Morrie followed him immediately.
Nick didn’t answer. He ran all the way to his dressing room and locked the door behind him. He heard Morrie shout after him while he opened the entrance to his secret hideout.
Inside, it was all quiet. He didn’t even hear the party down there.
Falling on a padded seat, he let all the tears flow.
Well, it looked like he was alone again.
At least he felt alone.
As if all he could do was to make people run away from him.
He knew he had to go to Arthur if he wanted to see him again before it was too late. But then again, what was he supposed to say?
It was like their love never had a chance and there was nothing he could do about it. But there were so many words he shouldn’t have said…so much that Arthur didn’t deserve. They shouldn’t part like this after all this time.
Still, he didn’t dare to go and at the same time he hated himself for it.
Could Arthur even leave like that? What would they do to him if they caught him? Skippers were to be punished, that he knew.
But if Arthur wanted to go so badly, what could he do about it?
Well, he could at least say sorry, tell him that he cared and that he wished him all the luck in the world, that he’ll find a place to life in peace.
Yeah, that he could do.
That was what he owed him.
But Morrie was already on edge. If he went away tonight, would their love survive this?
Perhaps he had to trust Morrie to do the right thing.
Nick sighed deeply. His body was shaking and he had run out of tears. He’d either go and try to fix what he broke or stay here and perish, because he couldn’t stand himself anymore.
“You might lose both of them.“ James’ warning echoed in his head when he finally left his hideout. It was already dark and the music had stopped. There were only a few drunken guests lying on the floor, that barely noticed him. Nick thought he was alone when he walked into the cold and starless night.
#we happy few#whf#wehappyfew#arthur hastings we happy few#whfarthurhastings#whfarthur#nick lightbearer#whf nick#whfnick#nicklightbearer#whfnicklightbearer#morrie memento#nickxmorrie#nickxarthur#uncle jack#foggy jack
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All in the Family
Chapter 36: Dobby's Reward
Her ears were still ringing, vision blurry and unmanageable, but still Lily forced herself back to her feet, staggering into something very solid, stone-like. She froze, breathing so harsh it was hurting her chest as she fumbled around now realizing it was true and continued darkness rather than a lack of sight on her part.
She had to keep calm, she kept telling herself. Whatever was beneath her fingers didn't feel human, or snakelike for that matter, but the cold marble surely was one of their group only paralyzed and not truly dead! She was the only one proficient enough in potions to reverse-
"Lumos!" A now all too familiar voice spoke quietly from right behind her, Potter's wand revealing a solid stone wall icy smooth to the touch under her grip, the ceiling hanging low enough over their heads they could reach up and touch it. Small comfort though it was, it helped that the place was dry and stale, small and isolated, the opposite of the endless void like place from before. She turned quickly to the boy holding his wand aloft, eyes quickly scanning their surroundings. She couldn't blame him, though there were no snakes in sight, this place still seemed far too likely to hold more danger. There was nothing distinctive at all about the place, no clue where on earth they could be, and they didn't care, as she did another careful count. There were only seven people present, counting herself.
The Black brothers were still shaking from wet and fright as they sat up carefully, Lupin hovering over them both. Alice and Frank were assisting each other to their feet and keeping their wands aloft. The place was so bare, there was no way she could miss him, yet, "where's Pettigrew? Where's Peter?"
"Here," came the small voice from right behind Potter, still half crouched on the floor and remarkably pale, almost blending into the background. Lily did a double take, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she stared at him, hard, and not entirely in relief, though it was there that he hadn't died back in the Chamber. She swore he hadn't been in this room a second ago.
"Good man Pete!" Potter declared, his voice shaking no matter how hard he tried to hitch a smile onto his face and beam around at everyone. "We all survived, I vote we not go for round two!"
"There is a first time for everything," the elder Black groaned as he took Lupin's hand and let himself be hoisted to his feet, then returned the favor and offered the same to his kid brother. He didn't take it, and hadn't yet moved to more than flip over and rest on his backside, chest still heaving as painfully as hers was.
Potter clapped his friend on the shoulder and helped him to his feet, still giving him a relieved smile Lily couldn't shake. Perhaps he hadn't noticed his friend at first either? She just couldn't shake the idea-
"So where are we now?" Frank demanded, bending down and peeling the book from his shoe.
It was a fair question. Certainly nowhere they recognized, and nothing at all to indicate an answer. The only thing of note was a very sturdy door behind them the couple and even they had no urge to try at this point. Merlin only knew what was on the other side, and for now there was nothing in here trying to kill them, so they'd take it.
"Who cares," Lupin groaned, hand still on his friend's back as he kept massaging his ribs. "We're not in the Chamber anymore, can we just enjoy this moment." He slumped back against the wall himself and closed his eyes like he was ready for a nap.
Smith returned with something and Longbottom began reading, but Sirius wouldn't even be distracted by whatever Dobby still had to do with this as the chapter title indicted. He crouched down next to his brother and quietly asked, "hey, you okay? You took a nasty hit."
Regulus didn't answer for so long Sirius started to grow worried before he finally got the answer, "it's all a lie."
"Err, yeah, most things in life tend to be," Sirius agreed with baffled chipper, anything to get his brothers eyes to focus, but they weren't. Longbottom had already read through Ginny getting to reunite with her parents and Dumbledore awarding Harry and Ron for this stupid stunt. Everybody was sinking to the floor in exhaustion and looking relieved to just be able to do that for a moment. Yet Regulus still had a look upon his face like at any moment he'd turn his head and find his death.
It wasn't until Dumbledore mentioned Harry likely having some of Voldemort's powers in him that Regulus reacted again, and all he did was flinch and pull his legs into his chest, like the little kid hiding up in the attic refusing to come down until Sirius had promised their parents had stopped fighting.
Sirius could barely fathom himself what all they'd heard, that everything they'd ever been told about the Dark Lord was false. The man, the mortal who claimed to be more, was in fact trying to purge the world based on a big fat lie. Sirius would have laughed under any other circumstances, but apparently his little brother didn't seem to be finding it as funny.
He tried to imagine it from the kids point of view, but the problem was he'd never given in to believing such a thing as what their parents had wanted of the world, what Regulus had readily adopted. He was only fourteen and everything he'd ever known had been shattered, and Sirius was helpless to offer anything because he no longer knew anything about this boy. He knew more about his three best friends than his own brother.
Turning instinctively to them for help, he saw that Moony really was fixing to fall asleep, barely keeping his eyes open and slumped against the wall like he was. The sky above must be housing a moon not long after it was full. Even not having experienced the change with it would cause his friend to feel the exhaustion it should have. James was watching him with a puckered brow and clear worry, but was also taking the time to engage Evans while she was in a sociable mood, apparently living through a life or death situation had put her in a better mood towards him. She hadn't sprinted to the opposite side of the room yet at least, even if she was keeping an arms distance from him and he didn't seem likely to increase that. Peter still looked shell-shocked, which Sirius couldn't blame him for. Wormtail deserved bloody two hundred points to Gryffindor and more for what he'd pulled, he hadn't needed to see the act to hear what was going on and what gave them the chance to get out of that place.
Lucius Malfoy and Dobby arrived back on the scene as some kind of distraction, and that all made a sickening kind of sense as the little house-elf made it perfectly clear what was going on. Sirius was forced to watch again as Regulus recoiled into himself, and he refused to just sit around and let his little brother dwell on all things pure-blood going on around him, so he spit out the first question that came to mind as loud as he could, "speaking of things hiding in plain sight, exactly who was carrying around Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and not sharing such a thing? I mean, I'm not criticizing the use, but come on, that's a rather significant detail to share don't you think!"
Silence for a moment, as everyone looked at everyone else waiting for the crack, until finally the last person Sirius expected to spoke up, "it was mine."
"Where did you get that? Without me knowing about it?!" Sirius demanded of his kid brother.
"Father bought some for me over the summer in Knockturn Alley," Regulus murmured without looking at any of them. He said nothing more, and Sirius bit down on his lip to stop himself demanding more of this explanation. Like why he was carrying it around with him today ( yesterday?) during class.
Alice sensed the awkward silence lingering, and really she didn't want anybody else to ask what else was being hidden on their persons, so cleared her throat awkwardly and spoke up, "well, I think I've sussed out where we might be. I'd hazard a guess this is where Dobby sleeps. Makes sense doesn't it? The Malfoy's would have him down in the dungeons when he wasn't running their house. We seem to pop up wherever something's happening in a person's life to do with the story, apparently it doesn't always have to be Harry."
Nobody argued the point, it made as much sense as the rest of this mess. Lily's hand tightened along her wand in frustration as Malfoy took out his loss of not being able to murder an entire school and a little girl out on Dobby. The chapter title still lingered in her mind, distracting her from everything else now. Dobby may have gone about it in the wrong way, but he certainly did deserve a reward for all he'd tried to do in helping Harry!
Then he got it, and they all worried that somehow Harry had made things incredibly worse. Freeing a house-elf was not in fact a reward at all to those creatures, but the truly baffling part was Dobby's reaction. He actually seemed happy! It made no sense to any of them, from reputation and whispered stories any other house-elf would be having a nervous breakdown. Dobby was all but cheering. None of them could really complain of the development, when it possibly saved Harry's life from a vengeful Malfoy. They all suspected that little critter was going to make another appearance though, how could he not after such an event?
The last really eventful thing was the all around cheer of Hagrid being rightfully returned, and Percy acting like an idiot all year because of a secret girlfriend of all things. Frank reached the end, back to Harry having to go with those bastard Dursley's again, and all anyone could really hope was that they wouldn't be sent to Privet Drive again.
#reading the books#Harry Potter#fanfiction#Marauders#Wolfstar#Jilly#Peter Pettigrew#James Potter#Remus Lupin#Sirius Black#Lily Evans#Frank Longbottom#Alice Smith
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okay so, i wrote some solangelo fanfiction and here it is. also, @wundersimp you said you would be interested and also tagging @simping-for-solangelo and @bookingfangirl
“It isn’t the 1900’s anymore, Nico. Nobody except stuck-up, homophobic drew is gonna hate on you. Just please, come outside. Please. Just come to the dining pavilion with me. You have to eat,” Will said, pacing the Hades cabin. Drew Tanaka had seen Nico and Will holding hands. It had been the first time, after Will had spent weeks trying to convince Nico that hardly anyone at camp would at him. As Will had just said, it wasn’t the 1900’s anymore. Drew had been put on kitchen duty for the next month, and had to do all her activities supervised by the Stoll brothers. They could hand out as many even remotely fair punishments, as long as Katie approved. Katie was the only one who could make Travis do something, and, more impressively, make him not do something. Though Drew was getting a very fair punishment, her words didn’t stop hurting Nico. now he wouldn’t leave his cabin, or talk to anyone. Will had iris messaged Jason, Reyna, and Hazel, and they came immediately, but Nico wouldn’t let them into his cabin. Will came to Nico’s door today and knocked. He had heard no sound and went in, seeing Nico pointedly ignoring him.
“Yeah, alright. Sure,” said Nico dryly, “I have sooo much proof of that, considering what happened.” Nico sounded like he was heavily rolling his eyes. His voice was filled with so much sarcasm that it hurt Will to hear it.
“Nico, Drew is an asshole, but others aren’t like her. Just come outside. Doctors orders?” Will finished, sounding uncertain as to whether saying doctors orders would help.
“Why should I come outside. I have KD stocked up, and I don’t want to. And nobody wants to see me.”
“Nico, KD isn’t good for you. And you need water.” Will pleaded. Nico pointed to the tap.
“One good reason, Will.” Nico said.
“Because I love you Nico. That's why.” Will said. He was done with Nico’s shit. He was playing the ace up his sleeve. He looked at Nico. Nico started shaking, and Will rushed over to him. Will carried Nico to the couch.
“Did you not believe that I loved you? That I cared? I came to your cabin every goddamn day, hoping to see you. Your pretty face, your chocolaty brown eyes. I wanted to hear your voice, even if it was just you telling me to scram. I missed you.”
“Nobody likes me, I’m the loner. Everyone thinks I’m creepy. Son of Hades, raiser of the dead, now the weird gay kid. They all wish I would leave. I don’t know why I haven’t yet. No one can like me. It’s not natural,” Nico said, struggling to escape Will’s iron grasp.
“Nico, please,” Will begged, reaching out to brush a tear out of Nico’s eye, “Please. Not everyone will always like you. If you’re holding out for universal popularity, you’re going to be in here a long time.” Nico looked down into Will’s begging face.
“That sounds like it’s from something you made me read or watch,” said Nico, glaring accusingly into Will’s eyes. Will hid a grin.
“Maybe. I’ll tell you if you come outside with me,” cajoled Will, gazing hopefully up at Nico.
“No. You may like me, but everyone else wants me gone. I don’t want to go outside, just to have other people wishing I was gone.” Nico said, looking away from Will.
“Nico, I know eight people other than me who care. Three of whom came earlier this week to get you out of this cabin. Reyna, Jason, Hazel, Frank, Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper would hate a world without you. They were so concerned, Reyna, Hazel, and Jason came and sat outside your cabin for three days. Travis and Connor brought them food because they thought their cause was worthy. Travis and Connor cared. Other campers came and sat with them as you blatantly ignored all the people who cared about you because you didn’t believe people could care about you since Bianca died. But people do care. And you thinking that they don’t hurts them as much as it hurts you, because they think they aren’t being good enough to you. They think they hurt you in some way. But they didn’t and they deserve better than what you’re giving them. I understand that you’re hurting, and that Drew is a little shit and you have full permission to hate her, but we just want you back. Tell me Nico, when you say ‘other people’ hate you, do they have a face. Who are they?” Will asked. He let out all his emotions to try to get through to Nico.
“You wanna know who other peoples faces are?” yelled Nico, “You wanna know? It’s Drew, yes, but also the kids at camp Jupiter sneering at Hazel and I as we walked past. It’s my dad as he told me I wasn’t as good as my sister and never would be, as he took Percy and locked him up, even after I asked my dad for a favour, saying it was for my crush. It’s the aphrodite kids shoving Percy and Annabeth into the lake. It’s Travis and Connor teasing me about HAVING A CRUSH ON ANNABETH when I saved them all from destruction at the battle of manhattan. It’s cupid- it’s cupid outing me in front of Jason in croatia.” Nico’s voice broke as he started sobbing. Will pulled him back onto the couch as he crumpled into tears.
“Nico, people hurt you. I recognize that. But Hazel and Jason and Reyna and I sitting outside your cabin trying to help you aren’t those people. Your dad tried to make it up to you, he gave you a french zombie chauffeur. Travis and Connor tried to help us, bringing us meals in support of you. Cupid doesn’t matter. He’s an ocean away. All these people who mentioned aren’t going to attack you the moment you step outside your door. Come outside.”
“No.”
“Fine then,” said Will, “I’ve tried everything. Bye I guess.” He stood up and left. He wasn’t always calm and cool. He most often felt like an elastic band stretched almost to breaking point. And sometimes he snapped. He wasn’t the carefree, relaxed guy they always saw. He had his fair share of hurt. He had seen his siblings die, sometimes in his hands, as he tried desperately to save them. All the fallen campers, an inch away from death, lying around him at the end of the battle, knowing he couldn’t save them all. All the hours he worked in the infirmary after the warriors of the battle who got all the credit relaxed. All the times he needed a shoulder to cry on and having to be someone else’s shoulder. All that.
____________________________________________________________________________
Nico left his cabin as soon as Will was out of sight. Not to go eat food or be with other people, but to be with Bianca. He shadow traveled to Zeus’s fist, where he had said goodbye to Bianca. Now he was saying goodbye to times with Will. He still shouldn’t have been shadow traveling and was almost incorporeal when he arrived. He sat there, sobbing silently into his knees. He wanted to disintegrate into the earth. He ran his dagger along his arms and legs, drawing trickles of blood. He didn’t want to leave, so he didn’t.
____________________________________________________________________________
“Nico?” Will called tentatively, “Are you here?” the door to the Hades cabin creaked slightly as he opened it. There was not a living thing in it. Nico wasn’t there. Where was Nico. Nico. If Nico was gone… Nico. No. Where was Nico.
Okay Will, Will thought to himself, don’t panic. Where would Nico go? I have no fucken clue. Who knew Nico the longest? Percy. Who knows Nico the best? Jason or Reyna or Hazel. Problem, they are all the way on the west coast. Guess I gotta go see Percy.
____________________________________________________________________________
Percy set his homework down and walked towards the door of his apartment. Why did people come right when he was starting his schoolwork? He got distracted and never got back on track. Percy opened the door and was met by Will. Will looked very anxious, so Percy let him in.
“Please say there isn’t another war and you’re here to recruit me for it,” sighed Percy, already resigned to his fate.
“No,” Will assured him, “It’s not that. It’s Nico. He left. I don’t know where he is. Do you have any idea where he could be hiding?”
“Yeah,” said Percy, “I’ll take you there. Follow me.” They walked down to the street, where Paul’s prius was parked, and drove to camp.
____________________________________________________________________________
Nico felt like an asshole. He had driven Will away from him, just like everybody else he cared about. He had been so annoying his sister had joined the hunt. Percy had mistrusted him so much after his father had tricked Nico, and now he always felt that Percy didn’t fully trust him. The members of the argoⅡ had been glad to get rid of him when he left with Reyna. Why did this always happen to him? He couldn’t have other people in his life. It didn’t work for him. As soon as he got attached to someone they always left. He didn’t deserve them.
____________________________________________________________________________
When Percy and Will got to camp, Percy set off at a fast pace towards the forest. They walked through the woods in a straight line, never varying in their direction. Will soon realized where they headed. They were a couple of meters away from the clearing around zeus’ fist, when Percy stopped.
“This is my best guess,” said Percy, “He said goodbye to Bianca here. This is where he’d go if he lost someone. You might want to go alone. I’ll wait back at the big house. Annabeth told me something I should tell Chiron.” Percy turned around and walked back the way they had come. Will stepped into the clearing.
“Nico?” he called tentatively, “Are you there?” He looked and saw a crumpled from leaning against the rocks. “Nico!” Will rushed to Nico. Nico was sobbing and had blood running over his arms. He had scratched his werewolf cuts open.
“I’m sorry Will,” Nico sobbed into Will’s shirt, “You don’t deserve me. I’m sorry.”
“Shhh,” Will whispered, “Don’t be sorry. I know this is hard for you. We don’t have to go back right now. We can stay here, but we have to go back eventually. We can stay here for a while though.” He comforted Nico, letting Nico sob into his shirt. It was too much for Nico. He had just made up his mind to run away to the yukon, where he wouldn’t bother anyone again. He had no idea how long he sat there, sobbing into Will’s shirt.
“I’m sorry that I’m difficult, Will. I’m sorry I made you snap.”
“Nico, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Let’s go back to camp. I’m hungry.” Hearing Nico say he wanted to go back to camp made Will smile. They headed out of the woods to the dining pavilion, where Nico ate healthy food, doctor’s orders. And Nico sat at the Apollo table, doctor's orders.
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Queer As In Fuck You
Alternative title: the fuckening.
Basically: the fic where Nico is gay and angry and punk (also the title is a song)
Tw: homophobia, mild violence, reclaimed slurs
Nico had decided that today was forever going to be referred to as the fuckening. To say Nico was nervous was an understatement to say the least- because today he'd decided that he was finally gonna come out to everyone officially. It wasn't necessarily because he was ready to, but because there were rumours flying around everywhere about him. The first was that he was having an affair with Annabeth and that's why he was avoiding Percy. The second was that whilst travelling with Reyna and Hedge he'd tried to kiss her and that's what they refused to talk about. The third was that Jason had a crush on Nico and Nico was waiting for him to break up with Piper. And the fourth was that Will was obsessed with Nico and stalking him. The fourth annoyed Nico the most- because it framed Will as some kind of predator, and of course, Will was the only openly gay camper at this particular point. And the fact that just because he made the effort to spend time around Nico and actually cared about his health was being twisted.
Nico could handle rumours about himself. The rumours about girls kept him closeted and whilst it pissed him off that people thought so low of his morals that he'd cheat, he was used to being painted as the bad guy, and besides, everybody thought he was too weird to ever be loved. But it was hurting others too. It was hurting Annabeth and Percy and Reyna and Jason and Piper, even if they knew the truth.
But Will? Will didn't need this. It rubbed Nico up the wrong way that they'd accuse his boyfriend of being a stalker or being predatory or obsessed towards Nico, especially as it was convenient that nobody slapped the same label on anyone else at camp who showed interest in somebody in some way. No, because only the gay guy could possibly be a predatory person.
So Nico was going to announce his sexuality and his relationship to camp, because he could see that the rumours were starting to get to Will. At first it was small things- Will stopped leaving good morning texts when he woke up at 5am. Things like Will waiting for Nico to sit at the Apollo table rather than waving him over. And then it was the big things, like Will only seeing Nico after campfire so people couldn't comment on the amount Will called him into the infirmary, and the way Will had asked him if he made Nico uncomfortable, to the time he'd seen Will shaking with anger and on the verge of tears when a 'concerned' camper tried to warn him off.
So Nico was going to come out. Because the rumours were too much and it was hurting the people he cared about. And he knew- he knew there'd be more vicious rumours afterwards, but at least he could control them, correct them, shut them down. He wanted to be in control of the situation, and he couldn't do that from in the closet.
Nico wouldn't have chosen to come out just yet, not if the rumours weren't there. It was a shit situation, which angered him, because it shouldn't have to be. He should be able to come out comfortably, but instead, he'd be coming out so he could take control back of his own narrative. It angered him because he'd been painted this picture of this progressive society where people could be openly gay and gay marriage was legal and people could come out without fear- except that wasn't everyone's reality. It wasn't Nico's. And he kept seeing this push to silence his experiences- to cut them out of fiction and cut them out of discussion because society was progressive now and nobody needed or wanted to see the struggles when they could show a happy life. Except Nico did. Nico needed to see people struggling like him, laying awake at night feeling scared and alone and rejected and wrong to know he wasn't alone, to know he could come out the other side. He needed to see the pain to see that it wasn't a tragedy. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows and it certainly wasn't for Nico.
So Nico was angry, because he'd been sold an image, a faceless image, of this amazingly accepting place where he could feel safe, except he didn't, and that made people uncomfortable. It made him feel guilty for his struggles with his past, his struggles with microaggressions, his struggles with internalised homophobia, because when he created, vented, his experiences were reduced to a tragic trope doing more harm than good. Nico felt silenced. He wondered how many like him, venting and speaking up about lived experiences through art and writing, were shot down for doing so.
Nico was angry because he'd been introduced to this amazing community only to find the beginnings of toxicity and identity policing rooting in the fringes online. Nico was angry because he'd been told the world was accepting to find out some still paid the price with their lives or their freedom. Nico was angry because the only rep he could find was dead, on screen for two seconds, stereotype, unnecessarily sexualised, predatory, or bootlicker. Nico was angry because he'd grown up in a time where he learned fear, to be then told of the wonders of modern society, to be shamed for his learned fear, to then find out that the reality was still scary and unsafe for many.
He was happy for those who were accepted and comfortable, for those who were open and free, for those who could rise above the hate, for people like Will who felt able to freely express their identities. Of course he was happy, and of course he wanted their stories to explode across the media and give others hope. Of course he wanted to get away from Bury Your Gays. But he wished that wasn't at the expense of people like him telling their realities. He wished you could have both side by side, not at odds. Because experience was diverse, and the push to homogenise the portrayal of the gay experience into either perfectly happy or tragically horrible was seriously tearing the community apart and leaving people feeling frustrated and silenced on both sides.
Nico was angry because his reality right now was uncomfortable and his reality was one of pressure. He had to come out because he had to take back control of his own narrative. He was angry because he wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last. He was angry because he knew if he spoke about how he was violently outed, he'd hear the whisperings of shared experience amongst kids too young to be facing prejudice. He'd have year round campers look to him for advice on how to be like him, how to come out and be happy when their own situations were bleak.
The first thing he'd tell them was that being gay isn't a tragedy or a death sentence. The tragedy is the existence of prejudice. The next thing he'd tell them is that yes, for some, it was gonna hurt and it would be hard. You'd feel like a newborn deer balancing dangerously on thin cracking ice with no guidance. He'd tell them that yes, safe spaces could be invaded by arseholes and you'd cry and rage and question. But he'd also tell them that that didn't mean they couldn't be happy and comfortable. He'd tell them that they didn't have to come out. He'd tell them that it was okay if all they could do was turn the closet light on to see themselves. He'd tell them that it was okay to exist in your own space and your own head whilst you learned how to navigate the world. He'd tell them that nothing could take away the labels they chose or chose not to take. He'd tell them that they could find power in simply existing. But above all he'd tell them to sing their truths, to create, to vent, to put into prose the pain or the joy or the duality of experiencing both at once. He'd tell them to delve deeper and learn and reach out and accept. He'd tell them to tell the stories they needed to see to feel heard and to heal, whether that be fairytale or tragedy.
Nico would tell them that even if they felt like their hand was forced, that their cards were ripped from their hands and laid bare for all to see, that they could still take back control. They could do what they needed to feel safe, hide if needed, or spit in the face of oppression with a 'so what?'. He'd tell them to fight back if they could fight comfortably, to protect those who couldn't fight for themselves, to find allies and comrades who would boost their voices.
And Nico realised that yeah, fuck it, he'd never been more ready for the fuckening. Because yes, he was still in pain and he was still scared. But fuck the people who made him feel silenced. He refused to be. He was fighting back. He was gay, he was a man in love with a man, a man who held hands with a man, a man who kissed a man, a man who would one day live with a man and fuck a man and unapologetically marry a man. And loving men wasn't all he was, but it was damn important to him and he'd be damned if anyone tried to strip it from his identity. He was scared and he was struggling and he was shamed but he wasn't ashamed to say that he was different. You know what? He was the fuckening and that was a fucking threat.
So yes. Nico's narrative was never going to be sunshine and rainbows. It had been fear and persecution and shame and war and oppression and pain. But now? Now it was a fire, the embers of self-acceptance and self-love glowing in his soul, the sparks of rebellion and pride igniting the flames of passion and rage and all things fuck you.
Things had to change. Nico refused to be silenced and spoken about in a way that he didn't want to be. They'd learn soon enough. Respect his existence or expect resistance. He'd control the rumours now. They wanted something to talk about? They could talk about this.
So Nico pulled on Will's pride vest, and pulled on his own black and pink jeans heavy with chains, and pulled on his biggest angriest boots, and pulled on the black leather waistcoat he'd taken the time to paint and sew with patches and slogans, and he put on his skull necklaces and his black lipstick and raccoon eyes eyeliner and he ruffled his hair until it looked like a bird's nest and he put on his playlist full of rage and gay and shouty lyrics full blast knowing it could be heard through his earbuds and he stepped out of his cabin with his best murderwalk because yes he would stomp on you if you dared say anything, because he wasn't a doormat anymore and he refused to be. He was gay and angry and he'd ripped off the duct tape society had glued to his mouth and he was screaming with confidence and radiating death because fuck society for making him feel like this.
"I'm only gonna say this once," he began firmly. People listened because he made them listen for once. He wasn't done talking and boy would they know it. "If anybody dares to accuse Will of anything ever again, I will come for you, and I will damn you to Tartarus, capisce? You do not get to make rumours about me and my private life. How dare you use me for your sick entertainment, how dare you drag my friends into it. You should be ashamed of yourselves! I am not some article in a gossip magazine for you to fawn and speculate over. I'm not some kid you can poke fun at. Will isn't some uwu gay best friend you have and he's not some butt sex obsessed fiend. And neither am I. We're just two pissed off queers who are sick of your shit and from now on if you've got something to say about it you say it to my face, you got that? You put your money where your mouth is and you face me you fucking cowards. See if it's still funny or exciting to call us slurs behind our backs when an angry faggot is done being scared. Shout at me what you like because I've reclaimed it all. You do not get to silence us, you do not get to control our narratives, you do not get to police our identities and our relationships. Respect our existence or expect resistance, you got it? Good. You wanna learn how to be an ally? Listen to us. Will's happy to educate you and so is Google. You're an ally to all or an ally to none. You don't get to pick and choose which parts of the community deserve respect. So yes, I'm fucking gay as fuck for Will Solace and if you got a problem with that then tough!"
An Ares camper rose to his challenge. Walked to his face and spit at his feet. Nico elbowed his face and kicked his nuts and shoved his face into the dirt. "I wouldn't do that, pretty boy," Nico warned, resting his boot on his cheek. "Anyone else wanna try me? No. Good." Nico let him go and walked straight over to Will, who was staring with his mouth open. Nico was terrified of the crowd still watching but fuck them Nico was feeling brave and bravery wasn't the absence of fear. He was gonna live and living meant pushing through it all.
"Wow," Will managed, "gods, just kiss me, fuck, that was- just wow!" So Nico did. Nico kissed him there and then, in the middle of camp, in front of everyone, because dammit he was a man who loved men and Will was his man and he was pissed off and living off spite. He had a point to prove and that point was that his existence was not up for debate. And boy did he intend to make it loud and fight for others who needed it.
#solangelo#nico di angelo x will solace#nico di angelo#will solace#nicohasahappymeal#will solace x nico di angelo#will x nico#nico x will#solangelo fanfiction#solangelo fanfic#solangelo fic#pjo fic#pjo fanfiction#pjo fanfic#pjo#hoo#toa#pjoverse#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#trials of apollo#tw slurs#slurs tw#homophobia tw#tw homophobia
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continuation of this drabble, where emory holds decker back as they watch lux get brutally beaten.
“You okay, Curls?” Warm, familiar hands slip under Lux’s hunched-up form to support his shoulders and help him sit up. Lux’s expression twists into a grimace as his aching body is forced to straighten up.
“Ye-eah.” Voice cracking, the warlock rolls one shoulder stiffly, raising a hand to his head. “Nnh, jus’ hurts.” A moment passes as his eyes scan the alley, searching. “Where’s Decker?”
“He ran off. I think… I think that was hard for him. Watching.”
Lux nods, brow furrowed. “Guess, guess he got kinda attached?”
“Yeah. Bet he’ll come back though. Come on, honey, let’s get you home.” Emory takes Lux’s hands and helps the warlock to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to help Lux stay upright.
Lux needs to rest three times on their walk home, breathless and wobbly as the pain from the beating sinks in. When they finally make it inside and close the front door, a bit of the tension finally melts away from his shoulders and back; they were stiff the whole way home as if he was prepared to take another kick to the spine.
His footsteps are slower and clumsier now. “Bed or couch?” Emory asks, mostly pulling Lux along by now. A bruising cheek rests against his shoulder as they go, Lux drooping in his exhaustion from the long-gone rush of adrenaline and the long walk home.
He perks up, though, at the sound of shaky breathing. Pulling away from his boyfriend, Lux leads the way into the living room.
“Decker?” He asks, spotting the teen on the couch. Decker is sitting with his head buried in his arms, torso twisted like he sat facing forward and then was overcome with the sudden need to cry without the risk of anyone seeing. The younger warlock raises one hand in half-hearted, sarcastic greeting.
“Sup,” He sighs into the cushion beneath his arms.
Lux treads closer carefully, sitting as lightly as possible on the edge of the couch, hands hovering uncertainly by his stomach. Emory figures that there’s as much concern and love in that caution as there is fear that Lux will get beaten again for crossing some kind of boundary.
“So, um. You’re, you’re totally not c-crying.”
“Totally,” Comes the punk kid’s soggy reply.
“Can, can I ask why you’re totally not crying?”
A wry, bitter chuckle, and then, “You can ask.” There’s a pause in which Decker seems to be deciding whether to be a jerk, but at Lux’s anxious shifting and silence, he reminds himself that the guy is just trying to help. Decker can give the benefit of the doubt to a guy who only had his life spared an hour ago because he begged for it.
“Just. It’s not fair. I heard, I, I saw what they did. No one should ever just let that happen to somebody. I heard - you were begging. And, the sound of, of…” One arm comes away from hiding his face to make a brief gesture toward his own throat. Lux’s eyes flicker to the movement and a chill runs down his spine. “For fuck’s sake, you flinched, and - I felt like I was the one that hurt you in the first place. For not making it stop.”
At the cursing, the anger in Decker’s voice, Lux wants to apologize. He struggles with that for a moment, wrings his fingers together and looks off to the floor across the room.
“It’s okay, I… I’m used to it. Besides, if you tried to help, you would’ve gotten hurt. And that would be worse, because I promised to keep you safe.” Trying for confidence, Lux places one hand gently on Decker’s shoulder. “But I need you to know something.”
The hand on his shoulder is enough of a show of trust to make Decker lower one arm and wipe at his messy face with his already-soiled sleeve. “What?”
Lux meets the teen’s eyes somberly. “You’re gonna see that happen to someone again.” The older warlock waits for that to sink in before he continues. “You’re gonna watch someone die. Maybe more than one. You’re gonna see a cop dragging a warlock away. You’re gonna hear crying and not even look around to see who’s so scared. And you’re not gonna do anything to help.”
Decker looks hurt. “Why, ‘cause I’m -” A piece of shit, a good-for-nothing kid, a coward?
“Because you’re a survivor. Just like me. I helped you. I don’t help everyone who needs it. And I need help sometimes, and I see people walk past, almost come to get me out safe. But you just gotta keep walking sometimes. It’s not safe to fight, or to save everybody. It’ll get you killed, get them hurt worse. So you gotta let people get hurt, sometimes, so you’ll be around to save the ones who really need it.”
Affronted, the warlock lifts his head entirely, no longer bothering with cleaning away the tears on his face. “Yeah? So, if I see you getting choked in an alley somewhere, I should just keep walking?”
Lux’s eyes stay locked onto Decker’s, not flickering toward Emory. This isn’t for Emory; it’s for the young, passionate warlock with a dangerously strong sense of justice sitting before him. “Yeah. Even if they’re gonna kill me. Even if I’m begging. If it’s too dangerous, you walk away.”
“You’re a hypocrite.” Decker shoves a finger at Lux. “You, Lux? You don’t walk away. You get the shit beaten out of you to save every scared witch and warlock you come across. I’ve never once heard you talk about the ones you watched die.”
Lux is shaking now, just slightly. Emory watches, ready to get Decker away from his boyfriend quick if Lux gets really scared. But maybe it’s anger. Maybe it’s just the adrenaline that comes with a heated argument that you weren’t expecting.
“I don’t talk about them,” Lux starts, looking devastated, “Because they deserve respect. They were people, with - with families and favorite movies and, and they shouldn’t be remembered by how they died. I don’t remember how many, more than - more than thirty? But I remember something about them all, I - Cameron, Andre, Luke, Percy, the - the one with the n-nice singing voice, the one who cursed a lot but had really cool d-deep thoughts, the, the -” Lux’s breaths come quick and almost sob-like, his voice breaking as he hurries to add more when Decker seems ready to interrupt. “The girl with, with braids, Kieren, she was smart, and - guy with the glasses, they broke, he said it was okay, made things look funny, he, he wasn’t upset about it - and, and the, the one, the, with…” He trails off, stumbling over his words as Emory comes over to rub his back and calm him down. Lux draws in a quivering breath and holds it. “I… I’ve seen death, okay? Not just on the street like you will, I was locked up with it, I saw people go slow. The, the point is.” Another breath, hoodie wrinkled where he’s been twisting it up anxiously. “I had to learn, that. That you can’t help sometimes. Ha-ad to be, to be chained up and, and had to see it happen enough times before I learned that. It wa-asn’t my fault. ‘s just my burden. We’ve all got something like that to, to carry around. Some, some of those deaths were people who didn’t learn that, who gave their life and it didn’t even do any good, didn’t get someone else saved. You need to be - to accept it.”
Decker stares, absorbing just how haunted Lux sounds. Twenty-two years old, covered in layers and layers of scars, listing all the deaths he’s seen. Finally, he speaks.
“That’s fucked up.”
Lux nods once, gingerly. “Yeah. It is. And I don’t want you to die. I really don’t want your name on that list. I care, we care if you live or die. Okay? Same way that seeing me get hurt totally doesn’t make you cry.”
Decker chuckles drily, ducking his head down. “Fine. I get it.” Sheepishly he glances up to give Lux a once-over. “You okay?”
That earns a wobbly, genuine smile. “Could use some sleep. Some healing m-, some healing magic in the morning if I feel up to it. I’ll be okay though. You should get some sleep too, uh, totally-not-crying tires you out fast.”
“Uh-huh.” Decker rolls his eyes, then almost-casually watches Lux stand and reach for Emory for help getting to their bedroom.
“Guest room’s still available,” Emory calls to the teen as they head off to bed.
“Still like the couch better,” Decker retorts and slumps down, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. Maybe seeing Lux smile and promise he’ll be okay will be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.
#whump#angst#death tw#past trauma#shaking#afraid#beaten#blood#lux#emory#decker#crying#exhausted#mine
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The Road Chapter One Augusta, Georgia MAMA D Mama D called on all the ancestral spirits from before slavery time and way back before Africa was Africa, and the world had a name. She called back using her strongest meileke, oils, and herbs, reaching into the dark recesses of her spirit, something she didn’t often do, turning her insides out, and offering them to the ancestors in return for their intervention. Grey clouds swarmed above Mama D’s cabin as she prepared her poultice of mustard seed and High John the Conqueror root. Dogs howled and scratched at her door, possessed and curious all at once. Something was going on, something that compelled all of Augusta to sniff, snort, and acquiesce to the powers of the ancestors. Swallowing up towns, and gobbling down mountains, angry fog rolled over Georgia like a plague or wildfire. This was serious. It rolled on like thunder and made a sound like a rushing river crashing over rocks, knocking down trees to the stump and pulling the Earth. This was no time to be lounging around. Mama D's old alley cat Simon was slinking about scurrying at shadows, hoping to catch a mouse, or a mole, or a spider. Mama D was always going behind, cleaning up messes, and righting wrongs. When a husband abused his wife it was Mama who stared down centuries of pent up anger, rage, and male domination. Mama said, "somebody was always trying to get somebody else under the heel of they shoe," and that she was the "leveler of wrong doing." Folks knew Mama was real in her walk and real in her talk, she didn’t mix business with pleasure, and she didn’t cotton to ignorance or suffer fools. “Just be straight with me and we’ll be alright.” That’s what Mama always says. Everyone near Augusta, or far from it, knew Mama was the person to see and who could help when no one else could. Mama could heal the sick, locate lost loved ones, or mend family feuds and quarrels. "Sometimes folks don't know what's good for 'em, and have trouble getting out of their own way, so you have to lead 'em in the right direction like a horse to water. Just like a horse they have to realize that they are thirsty for themselves." Now Mama D wasn’t really my mama. She is my grandma and Miss Easy, Mama D’s sister, is my great auntie. I've been with them since I was born. Miss Easy and Mama D say I was a blessing sent on account of He knew He was gonna take my real mama away. Don’t ask me about my daddy. My mama wouldn’t tell who it was and Mama D says she has no idea who my daddy is. Now I look in the face of every man I meet on the road, or in town, for some resemblance, but it seem like they all favor me and I get confused. So, I just stopped looking. Mama D said that was probably best cause if my daddy wanted to know where I was he would of found me by now, and ain't no sense running behind, looking for something that ain't looking for you. Once I thought Reverend Prichart was my father but then I saw him pick his nose and eat a bugger, right then I decided even if he was my daddy I didn’t want to know about it. Soon after that is when I quite looking altogether cause you don’t know if you gonna meet up with a fool or a saint. I decided to just mind my own business and let well enough alone. It’s better that way. Mama's current mission was a secret to me. Sometimes I could tell, by the ingredients she used in her potions, or the posture of her body as she mixed the concoctions. If she was making a love potion or trying to bring back a lover that had strayed, undo what was thought to be a curse, a hex, or fix money problems. This was something different. Everything was laid out on a large bench in Mama's place but it was laid out in an organized manner and Mama kept going over it like she was taking inventory and she'd make a note in her book. She carefully measured the roots and the liquids from the hundreds of bottles that lined the walls and stacks of crates in the corner. Mama went to her shelf and took down her bible, the large one with the gold letters and the foreign language on the front that Mama said was Latin and Hebrew, looked like chicken scratch to me, but it must of been what she said it was cause she took care of it like it was a new born pup or an ailing kitten. She placed it on the bench and thumbed through the pages adjusting her glasses on her nose to be sure she was reading the right verse and on the right page. Then Mama D did something that in all my times spying, and peeping, and sneaking around I had never seen her do before. She took an envelope off the shelf, took out a piece of paper, unfolded it and threw it on the ground. Next, my mouth stood wide open, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, but Mama stood over the paper, lifted her skirt, squatted, and peed right there on top of it. The stream of urine continued, so it seemed, until a minute or two passed. A large puddle, with the paper in the middle, sat in the corner and Mama spit on it after she adjusted her skirt and then sprinkled it with what looked like sage, but could have been anything. It was green and leafy. After that Mama dripped candle wax, blew out the candle, and headed for the door before I knew it. I crouched behind an old barrel as Mama headed up the crooked, well worn path to the house, briefly pausing and cocking her head like she heard a whisper in the distance or a far off howl. She headed into the kitchen to the washbasin and called my name at the same time. "Lady!" My feet stood still and a wave of fever flashed across my forehead. What should I do? Go in the front door? Pretend I didn't hear? "Lady!" The front door seemed the only option. Mama opened the door before I could. "What are you doing sneaking around out here?" "I'm not sneaking Mama. I saw a doodle bug back by the privy and I was trying to catch it before it went deep in the woods." Mama cocked her head looking into my face. "Girl what did I tell you about running behind doodle bugs, and salamanders, and what not playing around by that Johnny house! You gonna find out what I'm talking about soon enough. Keep on you hear." I was hearing Mama but I wasn't listening. It was as if I was having an out of body experience and could see the wheels turning in Mama's head and see what she could see in her eyes. She was looking straight through me. She knew the truth and knew I wasn't out chasing doodle bugs behind the Johnny house but peeping into her business, not minding my own. The ringing in my ears met up with a cacophony of horns, drums, and bells like the complete opposite of a Chinese water torture, not subtle but bold and brazen until it felt like something reached down in my throat and just pulled the words out, "I'm sorry Mama I was outside spying through the window looking at you in your shack and watching what you did with the paper and squatted and did your business on top of it, that's what I was doing Mama!" Mama starred at me unchanged, just like she could see again all that I was thinking and not saying. "Well I hope you learned something," Mama said. "It's a fool that don't smell his own self and thinks his tail don't point straight down to the ground just like everybody else's." When Mama said that instead of slapping the taste out of my mouth, I knew God answers prayer, I had learned my lesson for the moment. My curiosity was still high and my mind would not let me turn loose the thoughts, visions, or imagining that invaded my mind like termites invade the fallen branch of a tree. What, or who, was Mama fixing? I was feeling guilty for sneaking around and nosing about, but I still wanted to know. Why was she still closed mouthed and secretive? Mama was born right here in Augusta, right here in what is now her place we call her shack. Her mother and father were escaping the mud of Mississippi and all of the memories it held. My great grandparents, Tom and Pearl, were slaves on the Percy plantation, had been born there, lived most of their lives there, until a war declared that they could come and go as they pleased and they pleased to get up and leave from there as soon as they could. The old master looked hurt and surprised that they didn't want to stay, "After all I've done for you? Fed and clothed you, took care of you when you was sick." He failed to remember the part about, "I beat you when it suited me and worked you from cain't see in the morning to cain't see at night. Raped your friends and neighbors, was father to many of your relatives and sold them for a profit when I felt like it and just because I forgot all about that part doesn't mean that you did, and never mind that it may not have been Christian, but justified in my mind because I said it was so and I had the bible to back me up." He had a very selective memory. He never stopped to consider all of the things he had received in return, or the countless number of times he had been nursed on his sick bed, cleaned, and bathed, and fed, and fawned over, his children nursed at the breast of a slave, suckled, while the slave's children cried from hunger and the absence of its own mother's touch. No mention of his fields that were planted and harvested, his home cleaned, floor boards polished, silver shined or brass brushed and rubbed so they could gleam in the candlelight to impress the guest that came from as far away as Mobile and nearer than Natchez. No mention of his wealth that came from cotton raised on the bended and broken backs of slaves. Fertilized with their blood, sweat, tears, and marrow of their bones. None of that was ever considered. Only what he had done for them, and how they were ungrateful and with their thanks and gratitude. Most of the slaves left quicker than the bat of an eyelash, or the strike of an overseer's lash. Mama's parents packed their belongings, a ragged quilt, one spoon, one plate, one saucer, a cup, the things they shared between them, a milking stool, an iron pan, and a bible. Their belongings were tied in small bundles, strapped to their backs or loaded in the creaky, rickety wagon that was pulled alternatively among them. They walked and walked and occasionally hitched a ride from strangers passing by, going the same direction, splitting off and going their own way, or when they felt a need to part. They walked nearly all the way from Mississippi to Georgia and found this spot that a recent immigrant, Erwin Palmer, from somewhere over in Europe had decided was better than where he came from and tried to tame the land, tilling it, and farming it. Having never been a farmer or ever lived on a farm, milked a cow, or shoed a horse, this presented a challenge for him. Luck, opportunity, and providence met when my great grandparents arrived. Grandpa Tom showed the man how to sow in the spring and harvest in the fall. He showed him how to shoe a horse and milk a cow. Granny Pearl worked right along with them knowing a thing or two about using a hoe and a shovel to till the soil. They shucked corn and snapped peas together during the harvest, working from sun up 'til sun down, eating together, sleeping together in the one room shack that was now Mama's work shack with the raggedy quilt they brought from Mississippi hung across a rope used to divide the space and provide a teeny weeny bit of privacy. This went on for nearly two years until the man from Europe stepped on a nail that went through his foot and into his heel bone. By the time the doctor came in from town to look at it, it was too late and the man had to have his leg cut off near up to the knee. Grampa Tom and Granny Pearl nursed and cared for him until he started hobbling along on a wooden leg but his spirit was broken and he spent most of his days looking at the wall reminding Granny more of a lost bird or a wounded lamb. "You know it's a sin to rebuke what the Lord has given you. You're still of this life, you have to live in it. Don't look and see what you lost, look at what you still got." Granny tried to lift his spirits. "What have I got? A tree stump for a leg, that's what I got!" He started to drink distilled spirits, and cussed, and mostly felt sorry for himself until Gramps and Granny sent a telegram to somebody over in someplace called Germany or Austria or Prussia or somewhere, and told them that the man was in poor shape and needed some help. After the telegram, a telegram arrived with some money saying a ticket had been purchased on a ship to England and to get him on it quickly. Grampa Tom could only get Mr. Palmer to the depot to catch a train up north. He wasn't too happy about going and he let Grampa Tom and Granny Pearl know it. "What the hell did you think I came here for? If I wanted to go back to Scotland I could have damn well stayed there! I don't need a black son of a bitch like you getting in my business." They knew it was only the man's anger and feeling sorry for himself that made him talk the way he did. His insults were ignored as they did what they knew they had to, to keep their friend alive, to keep him from harming himself. They said their goodbyes at the train station and when he handed Grampa Tom an envelope and told him to do what he wanted with the land, Grampa Tom was confused, unable to read Grampa Tom put the envelope in the bible for safe keeping. Grampa Tom, Erwin Palmer, and Granny Pearl never saw each other again but every now and then a card or a letter would arrive addressed to Mister Tom and Miss Pearl. Gramps and Granny, both being illiterate, had to ask the postal clerk to read it to 'em and tell 'em what it said. The clerk read the letter but bristled at reading and addressing them as Mister and Miss, however being a show off he wanted to read as best he could and so he did. It was about a year after the man left that the first letter came and it said, "Dear Mister Tom and Miss Pearl, I've arrived here in Scotland at my brother's poor excuse of a farm and it is even drearier and grayer than the place I tried to escape when I met you in America. My brother and his wife, bless their souls, have tried to make a life as best they can by raising sheep on a patch of land that seems to be nothing but jagged rocks, desolate gravel, and dirt not fit to grow potatoes. When I left Georgia I was heavy in heart, and I'm sorry for all of the mean and unkind things I said. I am also sorry that I stole the rabbit foot that use to hang by the door of the cabin, but I had to take with me something to remind me that I had once been a man of independence and courage with hopes and dreams of independence and freedom. Free from things, some of which I have forgotten and abandoned. I've never stolen a thing in my life but I hope that you will forgive me. The train ride to New York was difficult, being on my own without the kindness of friends or the family that I considered you two to be. I experienced the cruelty of one human being to another and I never hope to see again. I met a man traveling to New York to meet a banker to discuss the sale of some property. On the passage across the Atlantic we were met with rough seas and by the time we docked in Liverpool I looked and smelled like the beggar and pauper that I was. Standing was trouble enough and the seas knocked what semblance of balance I had out of me for nearly the first day until I got my sea legs. My brother met me at the dock and although he didn't say it, I could see in his eyes the pity he had for a man that wasn't a whole man anymore in spirit, or in body, but a troubled soul lost, tortured, and broken. I'm telling you this, but you already know it is true. If it hadn't been for the kindness, love, and caring of the two of you I could not be writing this letter today. For two years I lived in my own self pity and I will say that I have been twice blessed, and a lucky human being to have a loving brother with a kind wife and a gentle soul to love me when I didn't love myself. When I first returned if I wasn't at the local pub drinking the fine Scotch whiskey this country is known for, wishing my sorrows away, or laying in the bed looking at the wall, I was feeling sorry for myself, hating the world and everyone in it. Scotland, for all its dreariness and confined thinking, I was able to see some beauty in it. My brother, an adventurous soul, I guess it runs in the family, decided to try his hand at breeding horses in a way that only a Scotsman can do, insisted that I help out in the barn and in the corrals. "Get your arse out of the bed right this instant,” snarled only the way that a brother could snarl at a brother. I felt no brotherly love of my own and much more pity for myself. "Kiss my ass! I'll do what I damn please and get out of the damn bed when I damn well feel like it." My brother lived up to his promise as I underestimated the strength of a man that labored from sun up to sun down, whatever the weather or whatever his state of mind or physical condition healthy or no. With one swoop I could feel the plank floorboards under my back as I felt the knuckles of his hands, hard as stone and cold as ice, connect with my flesh and bones. After his encouragement and the exchange of words that any man should be ashamed to call his own brother, negating the legitimacy of his birth and my own, his children's birth, and the chastity of his wife that has shown me nothing but kindness and patience, I felt the shame of my actions and my own self pity. A wave of shame also crosses my face when I think of the unkind way that I spoke to you Mister Tom and treated Miss Pearl before I left. I hope that you will find it in your hearts to forgive a man that had forgotten his manners. I can't thank you enough for showing me the kindness and affection I didn't show you. My only hope is that the gift of the one hundred acres can express my gratitude and allow you to forgive me in your hearts. I'll never forget the time I spent sweating in the Georgia sun and enjoying the kindness of two loving souls. If I never see you again know you are forever in my prayers. Your brother in life and forever, Erwin Palmer.
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Not the Christmas He Expected
This one’s for you, @vondrakenhof. It was my first time writing these two, but I had a fun time doing it. Hope you enjoy!
—x—
This wasn’t how Ron imagined his Christmas break going.
For starters, Ron hadn’t thought he would get a Christmas break at all. As a trainee in the Auror Academy, he knew was just about as low as you could go on the totem poll. He would have been happy to get Christmas dinner off–would have considered himself lucky if he got all of Christmas Day off. Instead, Kingsley had insisted that all of the trainees fresh from Hogwarts get the week from Christmas Day to New Year’s Day off. Something about paying back a little of the innocence was stolen from them.
Normally, Ron would turn up his freckled nose at such blatant special treatment. But this was special treatment that he deserved. He had actually earned this privilege, and the scars that wound across his pale skin proved it. This wasn’t some consolation prize or a “bonus” of being a friend of Harry Potter.
In the end, neither Harry nor Ron had protested much. Their classmates deserved this break, too, and they didn’t want to ruin it for them. And, as the duo reminded Kingsley on their way out, should any of the remaining Death Eaters show their ugly faces, he knew where to reach them.
So, by all rights, Ron should have been ecstatic.
It was a certain wild-maned brunette in his life that had thrown him off kilter.
Everyone had been gathered in the living room, sipping on tea and hot chocolate and just enjoying having the whole family gathered. It was late that Christmas evening. Presents had been long since opened and dinner had been put away. But it had also been years since the last all the Weasley siblings had made it to Christmas. Both Bill and Charlie had been abroad while Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George had been in Hogwarts. Then Percy had to go be an absolute arse. And then last year…well. It was good to have everyone here now.
Then, without warning, Hermione had appeared, trunk and Crookshanks in tow, in the fireplace. There were a tense few seconds where everyone’s hands went to their wands, but it passed soon enough as everyone recognized their late night guest.
“Merry Christmas, everyone!” she greeted them. Crookshanks leapt out of her arms and vanished to wherever it was the blasted beast liked to go when he was here. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I really did mean to get here sooner, but I just couldn’t find a good opening to leave my family.”
Ron and Harry immediately shared a glance. Translation: her parents didn’t want her to leave at all, and she had only just won the argument. The Grangers had been more reluctant than ever to let their daughter slip back into the magical world since their return from Australia. It had been a constant source of tension in their relationship lately, but Ron had thought that everything had been settled when Hermione left for Hogwarts this year.
Apparently not.
“Anyway, I know it’s late, but I have all of your Christmas gifts!” With a swish of her wand, said pile of book-shaped gifts sailed out of Hermione’s trunk and towards their expected recipients.
“Wonder what this could be,” Harry drawled, having been the first to catch his. “Hey, Ron, wanna bet we’ve all gotten a copy of Hogwarts: A History?”
“Nah, mate. It’s a new hat for sure. Hermione had so much fun knitting during her fourth year that she decided she wanted to join Mum in the yearly tradition,” Ron shot back. He set his mug of cocoa down on the mantel so he could hold his present and draw Hermione in for a hug. She immediately tucked herself under his chin and squeezed him hard. “Your presents are under the tree, too. Mum and Dad headed up to bed a couple hours ago, but we were all planning to be down here for a while yet. Yeah, guys?”
Varying levels of agreement rang out, and everybody settled down once more to open presents. Of course, everyone had gotten books, but they were–thankfully–not copies Hogwarts: A History, signed or otherwise. Both Bill and Fleur had gotten curse-breaking themed books, for example. Ginny had grinned when she peeled off her wrapping to reveal Women in Quidditch with Gwenog Jones and a woman he suspected had been the Irish keeper at one point decorating the cover. Ron himself was now a proud owner of a The Semi-Closed Openings in Action, a muggle chess book. A large bag of Honeyduke’s finest milk chocolate had also found its way into his lap while everyone was busy opening their presents–another form of special attention that Ron was perfectly okay with.
With presents opened once more, no one made any indication of leaving. Instead warming charms were cast on abandoned drinks, and the discussion of everyone’s first interaction with a Weasley Wizard Wheezes’ product picked back up again. Very few people had heard Hermione’s story about the punching telescope, it turned out, and even Percy chuckled at the retelling.
After a while, it became clear that Hermione’s mind was elsewhere. For one, she had pretty much stopped participating in the conversation. She was even silent when everyone was describing their first impressions of Trelawney. When everyone else laughed Hermione would follow along, but that’s all it was. As if she was reacting to the sound of laughter itself instead of the cause. The most tell-tale sign that something was wrong, however, was that she was she was running her fingers up and down the vine-like patterns on her wand. It was a habit that had started after her wand was finally returned to her–one that only surfaced when she was particularly anxious.
Harry had started sending worried glances to him sometime earlier, but by now even Ginny looked concerned. It was time to get to the bottom of this.
“I never got you a drink, ‘Mione!” Ron interjected the moment there was a break in the conversation. He stood and helped a slightly bewildered Hermione to her feet. “Blimey, I’m so sorry. Why don’t you come look at Mum’s tea collection with me, and I’ll get you taken care of.”
He knew Hermione would have asked for a simple black tea with one sugar and a splash of milk. More importantly, Hermione knew that Ron knew. The confusion lifted from her brow, and she followed him towards the kitchen, saying, “Actually that sounds delightful, Ron, thank you.”
Once they were safely tucked out of sight, Ron cast a Muffliato in the general direction of the living room. He leaned up against counter, still holding one of Hermione’s hands, and began to stroke the back of it with his thumb.
“All right, Hermione, spill. What’s going on?”
“I haven’t done any of my extra assignments!” she wailed immediately. Ron blinked, and she pulled her hand from his grasp so she could begin stroking the sides of her wand once more, “I promised Professor Flitwick and Professor Tiananmen and Prof-Headmistress McGonagall are giving me extra lessons, and I had revision work that I was to complete over the break, and now we’ve only a week left and I haven’t even started!”
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your break, Hermione,” Ron began. Merlin’s left sock, a Hermione that was worked up about her studies was not going to be easy to calm down. “Harry and I put our homework off every summer, and we always got it done in time.”
“No, Ronald, I haven’t been procrastinating, I haven’t been allowed to do my revisions!” Hermione snapped. Sparks shot from the tip of her wand, mirroring her agitation. “I thought if I just didn’t do any magic in front of them, they would relax, but anytime I so much as picked up one of my textbooks Mum would leave the room and Dad would just shake his head at me like he was disappointed and I-I just..oh Ron is it going to be like this forever?”
Ron’s stomach dropped. Wordlessly he opened his arms, and Hermione didn’t hesitate before collapsing on his chest. This was much worse than he thought it was. This was almost at a Dursley level of problematic. He rubbed circles on her back as he considered the best way to help. The Grangers probably wouldn’t take well to another eighteen year old telling them how to live their lives, but perhaps if his parents had lunch with them of something? He suggested this to Hermione who shrugged.
Well, there wasn’t much they could do on that front right now, anyway.
“How about I take you to Harry and I’s apartment so you can work in peace and quiet?” Ron suggested, still rubbing comforting circles up and down Hermione’s back. “I think this lot will be up for a while yet.”
Hermione pulled back from Ron’s chest and swiped at her eyes. She took a couple of calming breaths and then nodded. “That would be good. I think I’ll feel better if I could at least outline them all.”
“That’s settled then,” Ron said, “Let’s get your trunk and head over.”
—x—
It hadn’t taken Hermione long to set to work. She summoned the books she needed, grabbed her quill, ink, and parchment, and then plopped down on the loveseat. Since he had no homework to do–a fact he was forever thankful for–Ron had cracked open his new book to read beside Hermione instead. It was pretty good. There were definitely a couple of suggestions that he would be using in his next match.
And while Ron might have imagined a more romantic Christmas evening with Hermione, there was something enjoyable about this, too. It was probably the familiarity of it. More evenings than he could count had passed with he, Harry, and Hermione quietly pouring over books together. Whether they were looking for a forbidden potion, the description of the philosopher’s stone, or Hermione had actually convinced them to drag out their textbooks for a change, it didn’t matter. So his evening might have passed without any enchanted mistletoe, but Hermione was snuggled up under his arm as he read which was a win in his book.
He took the moment to observe his girlfriend out of the corner of his eye. There was a perfectly good coffee table in front of them, but Hermione had pulled her essay into her lap to write instead. She’d pulled her feet up under her instead of letting them dangle over the edge, which he found cute for a reason he couldn’t identify. An ink pot hung in the air just to her right, ready for use at a moment’s notice. Her usually wild mane was pulled up into a messy bun atop her head, and she worried her lip as she wrote.
None of it was a particularly rare sight, but it still…Ron’s chest just felt too full looking at her. Like his lungs simply wouldn’t expand enough, couldn’t draw in enough air. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling by any means. He just felt content.
Ron peaked over Hermione’s shoulder to the essay she was scribbling frantically to see how she was doing. She had quickly moved from “outlining” her essays to full out writing them, and her first page was almost full. He scanned it quickly, recognizing enough spells and names to realize that it was a Defense Against the Dark Arts paper. Just as he was about to return to his own reading, a sentence made him frown.
“In situations when one is outnumbered, quick-paced reaction times might benefit the user more than a shield charm as there are several hexes a simple Protego will be unable to deflect. The unforgivable curses are, of course, a prime example.”
Well, that was true enough, Ron supposed. But that was more of a delay tactic. Dodging spells for eternity would never work without an exit strategy. It had mostly worked for them because even though they were outnumbered, they were surrounded by enough chaos that…actually there was a lot wrong with Hermione’s argument. Should he say something? There was a good chance that Hermione’s textbook hadn’t covered all that he had learned in the first bit of Auror training. But Ron knew that Hermione hated making a claim without a textual source to back it up.
My Auror texts! Ron realized, only just curbing the urge to do a victorious fist-pump. They weren’t her class textbook, but maybe if Hermione could see the points that he was making came from a book..? He started to disentangle himself from Hermione and stand up. Before he could take a step towards his bedroom, a small hand shot out and wrapped around his. Startled, Ron half-thought Hermione wouldn’t even notice that he’d gotten up, he looked back to see his girlfriend staring at him with a heart-wrenching expression on her face.
“Please don’t go,” she pleaded. Her eyes looked suspiciously bright. “I know I’m being terrible company, and a terrible girlfriend, and-and I really do want to spend time with you, really! But it’s just–I have so much work to do, and it’s my NEWT year. And, and even if I have to study, I feel much more relaxed when you’re next to me. So, if it’s not too much trouble could you–would you…?”
“Woah, woah there, ‘Mione.” Ron carefully sat back down on the edge of the couch as to not get sucked back in. “I was just reading over your essay, and thought that I have a book that might help in my room.”
Hermione’s lips rounded into a small “o” of surprise, then she blushed so red she could almost put him to shame. Ron chucked quietly, and pulled her into a side hug so as to not crush the parchment between them.
“So no more of that ‘being a terrible girlfriend’ nonsense, alright? You were one of my best mates when you were upset that end of year exams were canceled. I fancied you even when you were nagging me about study schedules. I’ll still love you when you when you study now. S’not even a question.” Ron pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. “‘Kay?”
“Okay,” Hermione agreed quietly. She had burrowed her face into Ron’s chest in what he guessed was a move to hide her blushing face. Cute. He kissed her head again for good measure and stood up.
“Be right back.”
As Ron had promised, he was back in no time at all with several of the beginner texts that he had received. Hermione’s eyes scanned the spines of the books he carried as he approached–eyebrows raising slightly with each title scanned: Practical Defense, Defense as an Offense, The Defensive Properties of a Single Poppy (and 1000 other common objects), and Defense for Two.
“So,” Ron began, somewhat unsure how to go about this. He sat down once more and stacked the books on the coffee table in front of them to buy some time. “I, um, I noticed that you mentioned that a shield spell was ineffective against some curses–”
“Which it is,” Hermione interrupted. Her eyes were narrowed as she considered him, not angrily, but as if she was trying to figure out where he was going with this.
“Which it is,” Ron agreed. Grabbing the thickest text, he scanned the table of contents before flipping to the designated page, “But there are–there are other defensive options.” He indicated the title of the chapter he had opened to before continuing. “Transfiguration, for one, is a good bet. Protego won’t defend against Avada Kedavra, but a transfigure a rock into a literal shield? That could work.”
Hermione nodded slowly, “And I’m guessing you have a reason that physically dodging won’t work.”
“I mean, dodging does work. We know it does from experience,” Ron grabbed Practical Defense and flipped it to a dog eared page. A single line on the page was italicized and Ron himself had underlined it twice, “ ‘Do not allow your defensive tactic to become your downfall.’ Basically it’s saying there’s no one-size fits all defensive strategy. Being outnumbered in an open field is completely different from being outnumbered in an alley.”
“So dodging spells in an open field? Totally feasible in most situations. In an alley there’s only so many spaces you can go. If you’re really outnumbered you’re going to get hit eventually, so the first priority really needs to be getting the fuck out of there or–or blasting a wall open to get some space and create a distraction or something like that.”
“And when you’re outnumbered with a teammate? What if you and your partner both dodge spells right into each other? What if you manage to dodge spell and then it blindsides your partner because you move?”
“Um, so really there are several alternatives to a shield spell, but I wouldn’t suggest physical dodging as an only alternative,” Ron finished.
Which was what Hermione’s entire essay had been based off of so far. If Hermione’s pursed lips meant anything, she had probably come to the same conclusion herself. Damn. Ron had wanted to help her out, and instead made more work for her. Job well fucking done.
But maybe…
“If you want, I can maybe correct your paper? Add some suggestions like you used to?” Rewrite was more like it. “ ‘Bout time I returned the favor. And I promise to to only write what I can back up with a text book. What do you say, Hermione?”
“You’re offering to write my Defense Against the Dark Arts paper?” she asked, incredulous.
“It wouldn’t be completely rewritt–” A shrewd look from Hermione stopped that sentence in its tracks, causing Ron to shrug sheepishly instead. “Yeah. I mean you might have to touch it up a bit later, but I figure it should be easier if the bulk of the content is there.”
Ron had approximately no notice before Hermione had launched herself at him in a manner very reminiscent of their first kiss. Unlike then, however, there was no battle that required their attention.
All thoughts of tactics and strategy slid out of his mind as Hermione’s tongue slid into his mouth. Fuck Ron had missed this. He had missed being able to slide his hands into her hair to pull her closer. He had missed the way it felt when he took her bottom lip into his mouth, and he had really missed the noise she always made when he did.
Since Hermione had to straddle him to reach his mouth as he sat, Ron knew the second that Hermione started to twirl her hips in tight little circles above his dick, drastically reducing the amount of blood flowing to his head. With that, any chance of slowing down and returning to their studies flew out the window. It had been too long. Their lips slid against each other with renewed fervor as their pent-up desire began to overwhelm them.
Hermione pulled back for air, and Ron took the opportunity to latch onto the skin just beneath her jawline. A breathy moan escaped her as he continued his attentions, and Ron felt her nails digging into his shoulder through his new maroon sweater. The amount of blood flowing to his brain had been drastically reduced, and if Hermione’s heady pants were anything to go by she was feeling a little light-headed as well.
He needed to feel more of her skin against him, he decided. Much, much more skin and much, much less clothing. Kissing a path back up from her neck to her mouth, Ron disentangled his hands from Hermione’s hair to slide down the sides of her sweater. His fingers had just
“Heading home to study my ass.” Harry’s voice sounded from the fireplace. “Ugh, guys, this is not what I wanted to come home to.”
Hermione scrambled off of him as quickly as physically possible, almost falling off the couch in the process. Ron threw his head against the arm of the couch and groaned. The mood had been lost and he knew it. His dick didn’t unfortunately, and there would probably be several uncomfortable minutes before he had calmed down.
“Fuck you, Harry,” Ron called to his roommate’s retreating back.
“You could have gone to your room!” Harry called right back. The sound of his door slamming rather pointedly informed them that Harry had disappeared inside his room where he couldn’t see what they got up to any longer.
Too little too late. Ron groaned again, rubbing his face discontentedly. Fuck Harry. They sat like that, on opposite sides of the couch, for several minutes. When he looked up, Hermione’s cheeks were still bright red.
“If you couldn’t tell,” she said quietly, “I would really appreciate your help with my essay.”
And even though he was frustrated, a small smile played on the corner of his lips. Ron sat up with a sigh, and placed a chaste kiss on Hermione’s cheek.
“Might as well. S’not like I’m going to be able to go to sleep anytime soon, anyway.”
Hermione’s blush returned with a vengeance.
—x—
“I think I’m done with homework for the night,” Hermione announced as he was putting the final touches on her closing paragraph.
Three previously blank pieces of parchment rested in front of Ron’s still moving hand. He had bolstered Hermione’s argument quite well, if he did say so himself. Hermione, who always had been a faster writer than him, had filled four pieces of parchment for for her Transfiguration essay. Ron placed his last period with a bit more force than necessary and dropped his quill triumphantly. He rubbed the web between his thumb and pointer finger as he stood, certain that this was one of the best essays he had ever written.
“Yeah, I think this is a good place to stop,” Ron agreed as he stretched his back. He was too tall to be hunched over the table for that long comfortably, “You finish your transfiguration essay?”
“Just about,” she replied. There was a slight droop to her eyelids that spoke to the late–er–early hour, but she no longer resembled a tightly coiled spring. “I just have to flesh out a few rebuttal paragraphs, and then it should be done.”
“That’ll be easy enough to wrap up,” he said, before yawning. Yep, it was definitely time to turn in. “Well, it might be better if you camped out here for the night. Ginny’s probably already sound asleep in her room, and it would be a bit of a hassle to set up the cot without waking her up. I can transfigure a mean mattress, though, so you don’t have to sleep on the couch.”
Hermione considered this quietly. She looked between Ron and the couch a few times then drew her lip into her mouth and begin to worry it with her teeth.
“Can’t I, um, I wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you if you wouldn’t,” she finally said, looking determinedly at the the ground.
Ron blinked, certain he had misheard her. “With me, are you sure?”
“Only if you’re okay with it!” she insisted.
Like he would have argued. There were very few things Ron could think of that were better than sharing a bed with Hermione. “Alright. Let me just grab an extra pillow.”
Once again, Hermione’s hand clasped around his, preventing him from going anywhere.
“We don’t have to go to sleep right away,” Hermione suggested quietly, “And I can transfigure something if I need it later.”
So, it wasn’t the Christmas Ron expected. They hadn’t gone for a stroll in the snow, and he had ended up writing an essay of all things. But as Ron looked down at Hermione’s blushing face, he decided it had still ended up being a pretty good one.
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I Love You, You Pay My Rent: Chapter 10
First Chapter (Prologue)
Previous Chapter (Chapter Nine)
Nico had been living with Will for over a month now and he could honestly say that even though there had been plenty of frustration he had never been so annoyed as when Percy pulled him back down into the club.
He glanced back and saw Will silhouetted against the night sky, blank and stiff and totally unreadable, the unlit cigarette limp in his hand. Then he was back inside the club, pulled through the crowds of people he barely knew to where Jason was waiting with a glass of champagne looking all grown up and serious.
Nico barely heard what he was saying as he spoke. It was probably heartfelt and meaningful but it was all Nico could do to stay still. He felt like he was vibrating and he wondered if his antsy-ness was as obvious as he felt it must be. He knew he kept glancing over at the shallow recess that hid the doorway to the fire escape, waiting for Will to re-emerge.
Suddenly there was clapping and Nico hastily joined in though his hands felt clumsy and it was difficult to manoeuvre around the glass that had been pressed into his hands and when had he taken that? Will still hadn't reappeared, unless he had and Nico had missed him. Jason was saying something and Percy was hugging him, actually looking a little teary despite his joking out on the fire escape. He gestured Nico closer and Jason nodded and gestured too and, with so many people watching Nico didn't really think he had any choice but to obey.
His legs felt weirdly shaky and he felt like he was moving through jelly, so distanced was he from his own body. His mind was completely elsewhere, still with Will who hadn't yet reappeared.
Nico jumped as he felt Percy throw an arm round his shoulder, drawing Nico close. People were staring at him, Jason too since Percy had also grabbed him and claimed his right shoulder, but Jason wasn't acting like a twitchy mouse. Nico was.
"One of my best men doesn't like the limelight very much," Percy said. "So I'll make this quick."
Nico thought it had already been too long. He saw a flash of blonde moving near the door and his heart jumped, but then the figure moved out of the shadow and he saw everything about him was all wrong and not Will at all.
"Most of you will know I haven't always had the easiest of times -"
Really he shouldn't be this panicked. Will wasn't his boyfriend. Whatever he was going to say it shouldn't affect him. Nothing would change, even if they fake broke up they'd still be friends which was also really what they were currently so -
"-don't think I would have gotten to this point -"
Who was he kidding? If Will suddenly decided they were over it would kill him. What if he'd found someone new? Someone better? Someone he could actually kiss and hug and be proper boyfriends with. Someone he'd want all that with.
"-and I'm just trying to say thank you for being -"
Why was he even with Nico in the first place? More to the point why had he ever condoned this. He could have said no. He should have said no.
"-and I really hope -"
He clenched his fists. He couldn't meltdown over his poor life choices. Not here, when it was Percy's night, not now when everyone was watching him.
"My best men everybody!"
There was clapping, a couple of whistles and whoops. Nico wanted to throw up. He happened to glance to the back of the crowd and saw Will leaning back against the bar. He raised his glance in slightly mocking salute and then mimed taking a deep breath with an eyebrow raised pointedly. Nico did, but he was sure it wasn't the air that calmed him.
"Nico you want to say anything?" Jason asked.
"He doesn't have to," Percy said hurriedly. "It's in the I'm not doing anything clause of him agreeing to show up as best man."
Nico shrugged and though what he really wanted was to push through the crowd, drag Will back out onto the balcony and force him to say whatever he was going to say (as long as it wasn’t earth-shattering and likely to break them apart). But Percy was looking slightly tipsy and overly fond and Jason had that look in his eyes and Nico was beginning to realise how much the two of them actually meant to him.
"Just thanks I guess," he said instead of bolting, "for putting up with me."
Jason and Percy looked surprised but pleased and there was a group hug which he would have hated anyway but was doubly awful since Jason and Percy were both slightly out of it and not the most coordinated or aware of their own strength.
He'd hoped that was going to be it and he could escape but then Percy launched into a second speech about Annabeth and then Piper had stuff to say and Nico had to be content with being an impatient mess on the sidelines.
He drank too much champagne in an unsuccessful attempt to make the time pass quicker and he was wobbly when he was finally set free as the music got turned back up and half the crowd dispersed to the bar, the snack table. He joined them, making a beeline for his non-boyfriend. He was almost there when he tripped over a discarded glass and fell in an embarrassingly cliche heap into Will's arms.
"There's several jokes here about you falling for me," Will commented as he let go. "But they all seem too obvious."
"Does commenting that they are too obvious make it ironic or just worse?" Nico asked. He'd gotten good at having internal crises while keeping up a light banter with Will and the part of his mind that wasn’t on the conversation was noting that Will hadn't exactly moved all that far away. In fact, he'd hadn't moved at all any further than was necessary to not be half carrying Nico anymore.
"Not sure," Will said. "Had that dilemma myself but I'm going with ironic."
Nico smiled. Will still hadn't moved back. He seemed tense, but determined and Nico was sure whatever he had been about to ask was about to come spilling out.
Sure enough Will caught hold of Nico's sleeve pulling him gently away from everyone else.
"Nico - oh my god shut up."
The rest of the sentence was apparently directed at his phone which had started ringing. Will closed his eyes as though praying for patience. He pulled his phone out his pocket, paling slightly when he looked at the screen.
"Do you need to get that?" Nico asked.
"No," Will said firmly, putting it back in his pocket.
"Are you sure?"
Will was definitely several shades paler than usual.
"Sure."
Liar.
But maybe whatever crisis Will was currently going through and was about to tell him about, maybe it wasn't about him, maybe he could stop panicking and just hold Will's hand (metaphorically of course) through whatever nightmare was plaguing him.
Wait, maybe it was wrong to be wishing disaster on Will.
He hoped Will was okay.
But he also hoped that after tonight he was going to be okay himself.
This night had been such a bad idea.
"I need some air," Will said and Nico couldn't argue with that, not when Will looked so out of sorts.
"Do you want to go?" Nico asked.
"No," Will answered. "No, that's okay. You have fun, I just need a second."
He vanished and Nico had to stop himself screaming in frustration.
"Everything alright Nico?"
"Never better Jason," Nico grumbled. "I'm having the time of my life."
Jason pulled a sympathetic face.
"Want to dance? Take your mind off it?"
"I'm over Percy," Nico snapped, "but I haven't suddenly morphed into a brand new person."
"Could have fooled me," Jason teased. "Never thought you'd be one for speech making and public speaking. Not even one line."
Nico raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't comment because Jason was kind of right but he didn't want to admit that.
"This Will must really be something," Jason commented.
Nico turned to him, startled.
"What makes you say that?" he demanded, forgetting for a moment that they were ostensibly dating and wondering if his crush was really that obvious and if it was did that mean Will knew but didn't care and -
Spiralling. He was doing that spiralling thing again.
"Just meant you look more confident in yourself. If Will did that then he's alright in my books."
Nico shrugged.
"Where is he anyway?"
"Had to get some fresh air," Nico answered, noncommittally to make up for the fact he wasn't actually sure. He'd assumed back to the fire escape but he could be wrong.
"Is he avoiding me?" Jason teased.
"Just bad timing," Nico said. "I'm going to go see if he wants a drink."
He thought that maybe he was getting better at making smooth exits. Or maybe he was just getting drunker and was basking in false confidence.
Will wasn't on the fire escape which was the only source of fresh air that Nico knew of. Confused he circled back to the dance floor, wondering if they'd ever actually get any time together tonight. What was the point of recklessly tipping the balance scale into too far gone and ruined everything if he wasn't even going to get a good night out of it?
"He's in the toilets."
"Huh?"
Piper laughed.
"How much have you had?" she said. "I'm Piper remember?"
Nico scowled at her.
"I know who you are Piper," he said. "I just can't read your mind. Who's in the toilets?"
"Will. Or at least tall, blonde and attractive is. That's Will right? And you're looking for him aren't you?"
"Is it that obvious?" Nico asked but he thanked her and made for the bathroom.
Will was there, back to the sinks. There was another guy there too, one of Annabeth's friends Nico thought. He was brown haired, tanned, too attractive to seem real so probably Will's type. He was also very much in Will's space.
Both looked too distracted to notice Nico's arrival. Will said something but it was too low for Nico to catch. The other guy suddenly leaned forward, kissing Will and Nico's heart stopped.
Except it was all wrong and Will was stiff, not responding at all. It took him a second but then he reacted shoving the other guy away, eyes hard and fierce. There was something vulnerable about him though, his posture was definitely defensive as though he was just waiting for the come-uppance for that and so Nico found himself leaping in before he could think.
"Hey!" he said. "Back off!"
The other guy looked him up and down and sniffed disdainfully. He pulled at his shirt sleeves like he was trying to decide whether punching Percy's Best Man would be worth the effort. Nico narrowed his eyes, shifted his posture. He might have been smaller, but he'd been in his fair share of fights and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be the worse off one if it came down to it.
The other guy gave up obviously deciding it wasn’t worth the effort and stalked off, slamming the door behind him.
Will glanced at Nico. His eyes were red and Nico wondered if he'd been crying. Nico thought he was going to get Will to talk if it killed him but he thought screaming, shouting, yelling and demanding that Will just get it off his chest wasn't the best way to approach things.
"You didn't have to push him away just because I walked in," he joked instead. "We're not actually dating remember."
"Be kind of tacky to make out with some other guy at my boyfriend's best-friends engagement party," Will said with a shrug. He turned on the taps and splashed water on his face.
"Besides," he added casually, scrubbing at his eyes as though trying to hide the evidence. "He's not really my type."
"So apart from the jerk trying to get off with you everything alright?"
Will raised an eyebrow.
"Fine," he lied. "Why wouldn't it be?"
His phone vibrated, just a couple of times, obviously a text but Will reacted to the noise like it was a gun shot.
It was Nico's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Okay," Will admitted. "I guess I'm not alright. I thought I could do this but -"
The door opened and a guy who looked oddly familiar walked in.
"Will!" he cried.
Connor, Nico realised. He was familiar because he'd seen him at a couple of Percy's other parties, but also because he looked a lot like his brother, Cecil.
"Didn't know you were here!"
He clearly had Cecil's enthusiasm too.
"How are you? How's my little brother? Still as much as an enormous pain as usual?"
"No," Will deadpanned. "I think he's got worse."
Connor grinned.
"Ah well I keep thinking maybe he'll like get lost for a year or something and we'll get a bit of quiet. Great party though right?"
Nico wriggled impatiently as Connor and Will chatted, gave a perfunctory smile that probably looked more like a death rictus when Will introduced him and managed not to pull Will out of the bathroom too quickly when he thought the allotted small talk time had passed.
Will's phone went off again as they left and Will did that stricken, guilty thing again.
"If that's your much more attractive better boyfriend you don't have to worry. I know we're not real. So I don't think it's actually cheating."
Will gave a small smile.
"I can safely promise you that that is not my secret boyfriend," Will said. And Nico believed him so that was one weight off his chest.
"Do you want to go?" Nico asked again.
Will ran a hand through his hair.
"I - no, I -"
Nico gave him a hard look and Will sighed.
"What do you want?" Will asked.
Nico gave him an odd look. I want you to tell me what's bothering you. I want you to tell me you've fallen in love with me. I want you to be happy and stop looking so stressed.
"I want to actually spend some time at this party," Nico said. "But if you need to go or -"
"No," Will said, so forcefully Nico almost took a step back. "That's what I want too."
"I thought you wanted to talk?" Nico asked, a little teasing, a little confused.
Will's phone vibrated again and Will looked momentarily sick. Then he steeled himself.
"No," he said again. "I want to dance. I want to have a good time. I want to get really drunk and party like it's the end of the world. Talking can wait."
"Okay," Nico said. "We can do that."
Will did look better now he was dancing. Some of the colour had returned to his cheeks (though that might have been the flush of the alcohol) and he didn't seem as distant as he did before. In fact it was kind of the opposite and all of a sudden he was almost clingy, dancing closer to Nico than he had been before which fulfilled several wishes Nico didn't know he'd had and made everything, even the fact Will might possibly be about to break everything off, worth it.
Because Will was a really, really good dancer. Nico had kind of never appreciated that before. He made Nico want to dance with him, made everyone else melt into the background like nothing but Will mattered. And nothing but Will did matter. He just wanted to make Will okay again, make whoever kept texting go away and leave Will alone so Will could keep on smiling.
Oh hell he was getting sappy.
"You know Percy doesn't have a half bad taste in music," Will commented at the beginning of the latest guitar heavy song.
"I don't know," Nico said. "This one's not all that easy to dance to."
Will gave him a look.
"Oh I don't know," he said. "It's alright."
Maybe for Will who could dance like he was a professional and if his slight smirk was anything to go by, knew it. Nico had to try and keep his eyes on Will's face and not on his hips.
"What is it anyway?" Nico asked watching, slightly hypnotised, as Will mouthed along to the lyrics dreamily.
"Arctic Monkeys," Will said. "Not a fan?"
Nico watched Will lost in the song and realised he was lost alongside, him trapped in a happy little bubble that was probably going to get brutally shattered in the near future, but for now was a flimsy protection against the rest of the world and the future.
"It's alright."
Will smiled. "It's one of my favourites."
The song ended too quickly and was replaced by another similar song, the singers drawl the same but the beat slower. Will was closer to him now and Nico was dancing with him properly now, letting Will twirl him with a slightly wry smirk on his face.
"You were so lying when you said you couldn't dance," Will said, smirk not fading.
"Shut up Solace."
Will's smile grew, twisted and caught. He looked down.
"That thing I was going to tell you -"
Nico glanced at him. If anyone interrupted them now he thought he might just punch them.
"Look Octavian was right about me -"
"No he absolutely was n-"
"Don't interrupt," Will chided teasingly but his voice was gentle.
"I can't do this anymore. This pretending thing. It's not fair to you."
It was everything Nico had feared and more. His chest suddenly felt like it was made of stone, which was strange because his legs felt light and he thought if Will hadn't been holding on to him he might have fallen.
"You're doing a pretty good impression of pretending right now," Nico said snidely because he got defensive when he was hurt and it turned out when he was defensive he could go on the offensive. Will was doing that thing again though where he wasn't fighting back. More than anything he looked sad.
"I promised I'd take you home," Will said quietly. "But then I think we should probably talk. I-"
"Aww," Piper said, suddenly close by and Nico really did have to resist the urge to lash out. "You two look great together. Hey did you still want to meet Jason? He was with Percy a second ago, let me go grab him."
Nico closed his eyes and wished he could think of some way to stop this but Piper was already rushing off.
"Sorry," he said to Will. "Guess you're going to have to put up with all this a little while longer."
He wasn't quite sure if his tone was acidic, sad or desperate or some cocktail of all three but it hit Will hard.
"Nico I don't think you get -"
"Is he your boyfriend?" a new voice asked. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."
Nico started, looked round at a tall girl he knew he had met before but couldn't remember anything more than that.
"Seriously though are you two actually dating? I mean what are you," he glanced at Will who seemed somewhat taken aback, "doing with him?"
Will glanced at Nico then back at the girl. Nico could feel everything crashing. He was almost tempted to admit everything to the vaguely familiar face, no we're not dating it was all pretend and now it's over.
But the Will leaned forward and kissed him and Nico couldn't think anymore.
He'd never kissed anyone before. Not really. There was one time at a party he'd somehow wandered into but it'd been with a girl in some weird disastrous experiment to try and get him over Percy and he'd felt nothing at all.
This was pretty much the opposite. He felt every emotion all at once: confusion because what the hell, anger at Will because what the hell, pain, joy, happiness.
It was too much and over far too quickly and then Will was back to staring at the random girl with a hard, even expression and all Nico had was a faint memory of Will's lips on his.
"Because I like him," Will said. "That's why."
The girl shrugged as though it didn't really matter anyway and wandered off but Nico felt like he couldn't breathe.
"What the hell?" he managed.
Will suddenly seemed to process what he'd done because he took a step backwards, and then another.
"Oh god," he said in a kind of strangled voice, eyes wide and full of regret. It reminded Nico of when he'd been obsessing over his one-night stand. Was that what Nico was now? A mistake? Something to regret?
"Will!" Nico said. "What the hell?"
Will shook his head, and turned and fled. Nico watched him go. He didn't know how he felt. He didn't know if he was feeling anything at all.
"Hey, he was here a minute ago," Piper said, bringing Jason over as she'd promised.
"Nico?"
Nico just shook his head and then he ran too.
Next Chapter
#Will Solace#Nico Di Angelo#will solace/nico di angelo#Writing#Fandom#percy jackson and the olympians#solangelo
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I looove your writing! I noticed that you do HP ships and I'd love to see who you'd picture me with. I am Romanian, but have prominent Polish and most of all Russian blood(I'd probably be in Durmstrang). I have dark brown, short hair and one of my (hazel)eyes has a spot that makes my pupil look like a cat's. I am Hufflepuff to the bone, live my life by their values and would adore magical creatures. I can be a real Slytherin sometimes. My spirit animal is a wolf and I'd love to be an animagus.
I ship you with PERCY WEASLEY
Yeah I know but hear me out. I wanted to ship you with a Weasley just didn’t know which one but then I thought of Percy and this is way too good. SHIPS CLOSED
Okay so Percy was always known as tense and quite boasting boy. Everybody knew the Gryffindor Prefect, annoying as hell and a kiss ass to the teachers.
So as a Prefect that he was he always caught you doing something against the school rules. And you always had the most amazing luck to get caught only by Percy Weasley. You hated it honestly. From all the Prefects and Head boy or Head girl, you get caught by Percy. It was like it was his mission to catch you.
And when he became a Head Boy it was way too much and you were so full of it. “Weasleys!” you shouted and sat next to Fred, George, Ron and Ginny at the Gryffindor table. “What the hell is wrong with your stuck up brother?”- “What did he do now?” asked Fred and took another bite in his sandwich. “I was just being late to class and he accused me of ditching it, taking 5 points from my house. What’s his problem with me?” They all exchanged looks and wore those smug faces usually Percy has when he catches you. “Tell me, Weasleys!” you said angrly but they were all quiet, snickering. Then you felt hands on your shoulders and looked up to see blue eyes smiling down on you. “(Y/n)? Care to tell me what are you doing interrogating my siblings?” - “Nope. I’ll just go to my table before you take another 5 points from my hause. ” you said flatly and got up. “Ignatius.” you said to him and walked away to your table.
But you weren’t gonna give up on it so fast. You needed to know why he hated you that much. He was such a dick and you were getting annoyed with it. So you sneaked into the Gryffindor house, searching for his dorm. And you found it only to hear him talking to Oliver and the twins. “Seriously Perce, you are torturing her.” said one of the twins. “And taking 5 points from her house. That’s just rude.” said Oliver. “I didn’t take five points from her house, I just told her that to piss her off.” -“And it worked. She gave me quite a scare there.” said George. “She does that doesn’t she.” he chuckled and lay on the bed. “Seriously. Just tell her you like her.”- “And give her all the pleasure. No way. Plus I like teasing her. She’s adorable when she’s angry.” And thats when you realized he didn’t hate you. He actually liked you. A lot. So you sneaked back to your house and made an evil plan.
Muahaha..no jk.
So next time you were caught in the restricted section of the library looking for the Animagnus book , you were caught by the one and only Percy Weasley. As soon as he saw you he put his perpetual grin and leaned on the bookshelf. “(Y/n).” -“Ignatius.” you replied with his middle name, hearing a small chuckle escape from him. “Mind telling me what are you doing?” he asked walking closer but you kept your eyes locked on the books , your fingers searching for the right book to grab. “Looking for a book. You?” you answered not bothering to look at him. -“Taking points away from a student past her curfew and roaming to the restricted section of the library.” -“Oh okay.” you replied. You glanced at him and decided to tease him a bit. “Okay?” he asked confusely. “Actually its really hot in here.” you said taking off your sleeping robe and later your sweater, throwing it on the ground to reveal yourself only in shorts and a tanktop. Looking down at the blushing Weasley, staring at you, you couldn’t help yourself but to slowly start your plan. “Are you okay Percy?” you looked at him. “Umm..yeah…I- I..” he stuttered, trying to look everywhere else but at you. “You sure. You look kind of red?” you continued as you walked over to him, placing yor hand on his forehead. “Well like you said it’s really hot.” he replied trying not to look at your cleavage. “ You sure you’re okay?” you asked again, playing with his tie. Thats when he realized and soon a smirk reapered on his lips. “You know don’t you.” he grinned. “Know what?” - “That I like you.” - “You like me?” you played daft until he put his hand around your waist, pulling you closer and pressing his lips on yours.
And it turned into an hour make out session. It took you by surprise because you never knew such a dick, arse, stuck up and a kiss ass can be such a great kisser. And the weird thing was that you wanted more.
The two of you never made it official. There wasn’t anything to make official. The two of you only had snogging session broomcloset, greenhouses and your favorite empty classrooms.
The other Weasleys knew. They definetly knew because Fred and George kept teasing you about it. “On your way to your Ignatius.” said Fred. -“What is it this time library? DADA classroom?” -“You know Binns office is empty. Maybe you two should go there.”
The two of you made it official when the holidays came and you were invited to the Wealseys. Molly and Arthur adored you. You were so cheerful and loving, there was noone to not adore you. When you met Charlie it all took a turn because just like you, Charlie loved Magical Creatures. The two of you became dangerously close and Percy was not too happy about it.He kept getting jealous and possessive over you. Everytime you were talking to Charlie he would get between you two and gave Charlie an ugly look, grabbing your hand and pulling you away. Honestly, you found it hilarious. “There’s nothing going on between me and Charlie, Perce.” you chuckled as he kept glaring at Charlie from a dostance. “There’s nothing going on between me and Charlie, Perce.” he mocked you in a high pitch voice. “Don’t be a baby, Percy.” -“Don’t be a baby Percy.” he continued. “Okay, I’ll just leave you alone then.” you said defeated. “No.” he shot his head to you and ran after you.
He would love to piss you off just to hear you speak Romanian. It was adorable and after he suceeded he would put the biggest grinn on and just look at you, which would piss you even more. (Now i dont know any romanian and i dont trust google so just imagine you saying something romanian and he just looking at you amazed.)
Him buying the apartment and living there while you take a year off to study magical creatures abroad. It would be a long distance relationship but there were letters every day. (Your poor owl).
Once you came back he would give you the biggest hug in the world and never let go of you. Literally. Never. He would hold you for hours and the two of you would spend at least a week in bed and ordering food.
Even though Percy is more like a cat person (he looks like one) he bought you a dog. The cutest big ass dog there was. It was small at first but since Percy wasn’t a dog person and had no clue about dog breeds, he got you a huge American Staford. But the dog was the most adorable little cluts there was.
The two of you were terrible at cooking but you both decided to take cooking lessons which on the end only he learned something. You gave up after a week and he became the chef in the relationship. He was super ambitious to make specials every single night but all you wanted was normal pizza. But you had to admit his cooking was so good.
Holidays were always spent with the Weasleys and Percy made sure Charlie was as far away from you as he could be. When you became a registered Animagnus (a wolf of course) yoh first turned in your bedroom when you were home alone, playing with your dog and then later when Percy came home he immediatly pulled a wand but before he could shoot you turned back. “What were you about to do?! Kill me?!” -“ What would you do if you saw a bloody wolf in your bedroom?!”-“ Good point.”
He wasn’t much of a cuddler but when you were on your period, he cuddled with you as much as he could and you loved it so much because he never does that. So sometimes you lied on being on your period just so you can cuddle with him.
You got pregnant at 23 and to be honest that was way too early for the two of you to have a baby. Both of you were freaking out but days after thinking about it the both of you agreed to keep the baby.
He showed you off. A lot. “Look at her glow. Isn’t she just beautiful.” - “Thats her. My woman, my everything. So stunning.” - “Can I just say how beautiful my wife os. My wife. Mine.” -“Percy we’re alone.” -“I don’t trust that guy over there. Look at that dog stare at MY wife.” he joked and glared at the innocent dog on the bed. “You’re so weird.”
Slow dancing evrytime you got the chance and he loved classy song so he always pulled you to the dancefloor (aka your living room) to dance with you.
When your baby was born the two of you had no clue how to deal with baby stuff. Mostly him. Whenever you decided to take a nap he woke you up because the baby was crying and he tried everything to calm the baby down. “Did you feed her/him?” you said tiredly. “No but its a good idea.”
Calling Molly for advice because you still had no idea about babies.
Percy being too lazy to get up from bed in the middle of the night so the two of you literally fought in bed just to get the sleep you wanted.
Oliver being the godfather and bringing the baby all kind of Gryffindor suff. Quidditch uniforms, sweaters, pijamas, badges.The baby loved Oliver and he was always the nanny when the two of you decided on a night out.
Him still being jealous whenever you and Charlie talked. “Percy we have a kid together can you stop already.” -“You’re right. I need to protect Weasley junior.” and he ran off to the baby. The two of you competing what would be your baby’s first word. ‘Dada’ or ‘mama’ and at the end it would be ‘mada’. “He/she said ‘ma’ first. Ha!” -“ He said ‘da’ last which means he/she changed her/his mind.Ha!”
God the two of you had just the best kind of relationship there was. So childish yet so mature. No matter how much he pissed you off you loved him with everything.
Daaw…I ship you with Percy so much now. Anyways hope you liked it and sorry for the delay and yeah. (SHIPS STILL CLOSED)
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Shut up and drive
Here is the version for reading on Tumblr. Enjoy.
Things change and life goes by but sometimes meeting the right person can turn everything upside down. Rich boy and his driver find each other and shenanigans ensue. Love, sex, drugs, drag queens and one crazy aunt are on our heroes path. Will they? Yes! Won’t they? Maybe.
He was never a person to hate his job, nothing was able to break his spirit, not even years of police academy training and that subsequent gross termination from the force, huge drug scandal he had gotten himself into like a complete moron. But shit just kept getting weirder and weirder as years went by. And as far as he knew this one promised to be the most difficult and shitty of all. Driving some wealthy prick around who’s barely legal to drive himself, and probably getting him outta trouble over and over again. Promised payment was good though, the first time in forever he’d have extra money after paying for everything and living on a budget won’t be a problem anymore. Is it worth all the trouble in the end - he’ll see.
He cursed his mother’s “exquisite” taste not once or twice in his life, both adult and not because when it came to picking a name for him she really pulled a good one on everybody. Choosing the fancy “Percival” over hundreds of others, she might have been blinded by vanity or trying too much to look like a rich lady but ended up screwing said Percival’s childhood in a big way. He didn’t blame her, not in the slightest. People have whims, and Mum was always drawn to extravagance. He sighed. All this recalling of the past didn’t help his cause, especially not today, on his first day of a new job. He had a few before, random and scattered in amounts of income and trouble he had to go through to complete given tasks but this type of thing was entirely new. After getting kicked out of the police, when he was still young and ambitious, trying to do the right thing, speak up in the situation he then deemed wrong, life gave him not even lemons, it gave him nothing. So, after piecing together what’s had left of his dignity he went on to do anything to keep himself afloat.
And now he’s supposed to just sit here, smoking, even though the new contract specifically forbids him from doing so in client’s car, waiting for said silver spoon fed, spoiled, rich kid, he read so much about in spare time before work started. Heir to the richest family in this goddamn city, lucky little bastard, had his fair share of fun in early days, before the “tragic and sudden death” of his parents, “poor thing, orphaned at such a young age”. Newspapers were full of ripe headlines when that happened, pouring more and more pointless condolences towards the kid and his new caregiver, boy’s aunt, a conservative politician with two daughters of her own. Now a senator, the woman held everyone in an iron fist, especially her children, but the rotten brat was still kicking, fits of his “heroic” benders almost a stuff of legends. That’s why Percy was here - not really a bodyguard, but close. Legally bound from actually disclosing true nature of his work to the client but obligated to take care of him and make sure “no one gets into trouble”. They’ve hired a wrong guy for this. Percy grinned. This is going to be interesting.
The mansion he had parked next to was glorious, all marble, columns, and statues, ivory colored facade with huge windows, in some overly fancy style the name of which he could never remember, with gargantuan wooden front doors adorned in ornate metalwork, polished so well you could see yourself in it. The definition of luxury, over-the-top wealth, and a bit tacky for his own taste. Something more modern would look so much better. There was more to estate than just the main building - opulent looking glass arboretum full of exotic flowers, a pool, the size of a small lake, servant’s shed, guest house, a parking garage, tennis court, and a huge field of perfectly manicured grass lawn, surrounded by high hedge fence, enclosed in a real, stone fence, with gates, guards, dogs and cameras. What did he get himself into this time around?
Last drag of the cigarette burned tips of his fingers and next one was in his mouth even before he could consciously think about pulling it out of the pack. Waiting sucked, chainsmoking was bad for him, but so was the unbearable boredom of simply sitting on his ass and Percy knew so much more of this would come later. The first thing he’ll buy gonna be a smartphone, maybe even the fancy one. Finally, something good will come from working for rich assholes.
Huge doors of the mansion flew open with a bang that startled birds on all of the surrounding trees and made Percy jump a little. With that noise came others, even less pleasant sounds - people were loudly and angrily fighting on a subject matter that wasn’t new at all for both of them. Yelling insults at each other, two voices Graves couldn’t identify were getting louder and a fight was coming to an end. With triumphant “Leave me the fuck alone and get the fuck out of my business!” tall and slim figure, dressed in all black slammed the doors shut and marched towards the car with a focused determination of a very pissed off person.
After taking a closer look of the cloud of black angry angst heading his direction, Percy realized that he got royally screwed over - this was his client and now he was supposed to deal with an attitude like that. This better pay off, because Lord above know Graves needs a stable job now more than ever, but if this little shit would try something like that with him, Percival definitely can’t guarantee politeness and flexibility around problems. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
When only a few steps separated them boy stopped, still not looking at Graves, sighed deeply and then, like a magic trick, untensed and unfurled, like dropping an act or changing a mask. This sudden metamorphosis was a bit creepy, to say the least, but seemed genuine, like something he was doing not for the first time. A new smile lights up the young fresh face and shining eyes were on Percy, studying him up and down. After waiving his hand lightly kid greeted him
- “Hi. You must be my new driver, right?”
- “Hello. Yes, I think I am exactly that.”
- “I’m so terribly sorry for what you just had to witness. My aunt and I have way too different points of view and our outlooks on life certainly collide from time to time. I promise you I’m way more well mannered with people who I don’t personally disdain.”
- “Okay, I’ll remember to not get on your bad side then.”
- “And we’ll have a grand ole time. Speaking of manners, I’ve completely forgotten mine. I’m Credence, Credence Barebone, nice to meet you. Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking - what in the hell kind of name is that. Truth is, my parents were not only rich but also weird. I know, right, eccentric wealthy people calling their spawn an unusual name. Who calls their child something so bizarre in the twenty-first century, ha?”
- “You are not the only one wondering about that. Percival Graves at your service.”
He did a joke curtsy, flourish and a bow. The young man chuckled.
- “Nice to meet you, Mister Graves. We’ll definitely find a common ground, with names like that.”
- “Just Percival, please. I don’t really like being a “Mister”, makes me think about my age quite a lot.”
- “Then you should call me by my name too. Just Credence, no misters here either.”
- “It’s a deal!”
Kid grinned and shook Percy’s hand vigorously, maybe too excited for his own good. Thankfully this all went smoothly and this Credence wasn’t such a stuck up dick Graves imagined him to be after all. That’s a win in his book one hundred percent.
The boy climbed into the backseat of the car and Percy sat behind the wheel. It was action time, finally. After fastening his seatbelt and fixing rear view mirror Graves started the engine and slowly drove to the mansion’s main gate. Before leaving the grounds completely he turned to a kid and firmly insisted
- “Belt. I won’t go around with my passenger not following the safety rules.”
- “Alright, alright, I’ll buckle up. But only for you.”
Wait, was that a wink? Is this little bastard is flirting or something?
And they went to the city. The ride wasn’t really that long and Percy always found the radio to be boring and somewhat annoying so they drove in near silence and there was a comforting quality to that. Credence looked at the window, forehead pressed against the glass, seemingly so deep inside his thoughts he won’t be able to support any meaningful conversation even if he’d tried to. Graves didn’t mind though. They both were just enjoying the view.
When the destination was close his passenger left trancelike state of overthinking something and spoke
- “It has GPS, you know?”
- “What does?”
- “The car. Tablet and a mount for it are probably both in a glove compartment somewhere. At least they were the last time, but I don’t think that previous guy could have stolen it. Our security is really vigilante.”
Percival laughed softly
- “Well, thanks for the heads up, now I’ve changed my mind about stealing all of your earthly possessions and getting easy money. I’ll have to earn them the old fashioned way - by honesty working my ass off.”
- “You better do that. Where else I’ll find such a charmer with a sense of humor matching mine.”
- “You won’t be able to, I’m unique in that, even my brother doesn’t get my jokes half of the time.”
- “What to say about mine, then? Aunt Mary thinks I’m an asshole for trying to prank her so many times. But let’s be honest, she’s kind walked into some of those herself, I just tweaked the stuff a little bit.”
This version of Credence he definitely liked more, not the yelling angsty one from the morning encounter. Hopefully, he’ll continue to be more like this and this endeavor will be fruitful.
*A few weeks later*
He’s nice, this kid. Polite, sweet, caring, great sense of humor, huge personality, charisma, and charm just roll off him in waves but there is something about him that’s wrong. Percy is not able to pinpoint what’s exactly going on with the boy, but he knew trouble when he saw it. Credence was hiding from something and said something haunted him day and night. Yes, on a surface level everything seemed okay, all smiles and laughter, but at times, you could see the real boy, that emptiness behind his eyes, that dark despair in his actions, that unbearable desire to just run away from all of it. Kid acted out on those urges constantly - Percival knew all too well the tendencies of self-destructive behavior.
They met a few times a week and Graves drove him around to a plethora of different places - business meetings, lunches, social events, huge shopping malls and clubs, restaurants - you name it. Kid seemed to be fine, not really getting in trouble, except a few small ones, like drinking himself silly on some occasions or going out somewhere high as fuck, but mostly things went smoothly.
This day promised to be no different - drive him to a club, pick him up later, go through the closest drive-thru and get greasiest, grossest fast food, chow down on it and bring the kid back home. Easy-peasy, right? He’ll have some free time with Credence is partying and a meal afterward, pretty sweet deal.
Pulling up to some hot spot, all flashy lights and blaring music, security guards with stone faces, huge bulky dudes that can knock anyone out with just one punch, guest list, overpriced drinks and a crowd both out and in the facility - yeah, not surprising at all, boy loves places like this, Percy climbs out of the car and opens a door for his passenger, who is already a bit high on weed after pregaming with his pals.
Kid stretches his long limbs before getting out and shoots Graves an interesting look, half sided smirk indicating that he’s up to no good. Oh, that is a familiar expression, mischief written over his features in big bold letters. This deserves a sigh. What is he planning and what kind of problems they will get into? The boy starts talking which makes everything clear - two places in a list for only one person because his friend flaked out and it would be such a pity to let so much money go to waste.
- “Cmon, let’s go in! Better than just sit there and wait for me like a dog. It’ll be fun! You should have more fun, with me!”
Kid is basically whining all while pulling at his sleeve. Graves sighs again and reluctantly agrees.
- “Okay, okay, please leave my arm alone. I’ll go with you, but promise you’ll behave. It’s important.”
- “Whatever you say, daddy!”
- “Don’t call me that, goddamnit. I’m old, yeah, but not that old.”
Percival locks the car and puts on the alarm, only then following Credence, who’s long gone, chatting up the guy with a tablet in hand, talking about the guest list. The ease of getting into a party when you are loaded is fascinating. Securities part and tablet guy leads the way, into the small dark hallway leading up to even darker but bigger room. Some EDM is playing, crowd jumps up and down under the strobing lights and lasers, the smoke machine works it’s hardest and there even bubbles in the air. Well, that’s definitely overdoing it.
There is a bar with some stools but otherwise seating space is scarce, leathery couches beside the walls are jam-packed some people even sitting on a floor next to them. Credence says, more like yells to overpower the music, that he’s going to go say hello to a party’s host, whose birthday it is and he’ll be back soon. Percival signals to the bar and to his best abilities pantomimes that he’ll wait there, sitting his behind onto the first free space available. Bartender gestures to a gloving menu with rather inventive cocktail names, all of which are overpriced for the amount of booze they’re containing. Graves points to a water and gets a shrug and a glass of it with ice a little lemon and a straw, how fancy.
The place is loud, as he’d expected, flaring lights and all that smoke obscure the vision, his water is more expensive than a good meal and people surrounding him are superficial, stupid and shallow. Maybe coming inside wasn’t such a good idea. Getting a headache isn’t a priority right now. Time is put on hold, so he drifts away to his thoughts and goes through a few of the waters while waiting.
Boy jumps on him unexpectedly, long arms snaking around Percy’s chest, warm breathing on the back of his neck.
- “I’m back, darling! Are you having a good time without me?”
He’s happy, aloof and cheery. That means uppers, but not a lot of ‘em. Credence is rubbing his cheek into Graves’s, skin a little damp, eyes shining in the dark, irises are blown out and blush strong. Not the worst feeling, to be honest.
- “Not really. Are you ready to go? It’s kinda late.”
Kid starts to whine, pouting and dragging his voice
- “No, I wanna stay! We haven’t danced yet! I want a drink! My friends are still here!”
- “A drink you can have, but we’re going afterward, you’ve had enough for one night.”
Most of the people are actually left, maybe some of the aforementioned friends too, but boy was high and overly excited.
- “Give me Red Bull Vodka! And my friend’s gonna have it too!”
- “No, I’m not going to. Driving, remember?”
Another pout. This is kinda endearing but mostly annoying.
- “Then I’ll drink both! Maybe some E-s to go faster? We’ll come home in no time!”
So amphetamines it is. Goddamnit, this is going to be a disaster.
- “No. Sorry, kiddo, I always ride sober.”
- “Is that a challenge?”
- “No, that’s the way of living a long life with as little bones broken in the car crashes as possible.”
Credence looks like he’s going to cry. Lucky the liquor comes and boy downs it like water, one after the other, grabs Percy’s wrist and marches towards the exit in almost a straight line. When the doors of the establishment are in the view and fresh air is only a step away, kid stops fully, turns around and slams Graves into the wall full force, lips suddenly on his, soft mouth half open, running long fingers through man’s hair. He is taller, not by much, yet it’s noticeable. Percival has no idea how to react to that but it ends as quickly as it’s started. Whispering so close to his face that every breath tickles the skin, Credence explains
- “My petty ex, sorry for that. If he would have seen me here he would’ve told my aunt. I’m not supposed to be in this place. You were my only chance for cover.”
- “Understandable. Let’s go home before some other tattletale asshole recognizes you.”
A brisk walk in chilly night air almost erases the feeling of damp warmth from Graves’s lips although memory will be there forever. He has to hold the stumbling boy upright, latter crushing hard after adrenaline wave faded off. Laying him down is a hard piece of work, lanky limbs tangling and body not cooperating whatsoever. He’s conscious thought, able to speak, think and assert his will. Also for somebody who’s both high and drunk Credence is very talkative
- “You know what we should do? Shrooms! Like, right now. I know a guy, he’ll hook us up. It’s less than a twenty-minute drive from here, let’s go!”
- “This is a bad idea. I’m not taking you there.”
- “But I wanna be fucked up! Really fucked up, tripping balls. Aunt Mary will be so pissed anyways so I might just get the best of it and spend her rant watching rainbows riding each other.”
- “You are already fucked up enough and gonna feel like shit tomorrow’s morning, trust me.”
- “Who gives a damn about tomorrow? It’s not gonna be my problem, I’ll be out cold.”
- “And afterward, you’ll vomit all over the place, cry and wish to be dead.”
- “Yeah, that’s exactly how you know you had a good time last night.”
- “Sounds good when you are in the moment, but I know from experience how actually disgusting you’ll feel. Been there, done that, doesn’t recommend this to anyone.”
Kid laughs that stares in disbelief
- “You did some? Really? Don’t seem like a person who would, exactly, all adult and boring, no offense.”
- “I did. Stopped after that garbage wrecked my life. You should too before it’s too late.”
- “It’s already too late. She won’t let me live in peace or live at all, that’s probably my last years so I wanna go out with a bang!”
What is he talking about?
- “Care to elaborate, maybe?”
- “My parents. I think you know what I’m talking about.”
Yeah, that. Fuck, this is not a territory Graves wanted to thread even if he could manage to be careful and respectful.
- “Yes, I’m sorry. I’ve read about the tragedy.”
- “Oh, you most definitely had, it was all over the news: “Courageous senator takes the orphaned nephew, the only heir to the combined wealth of his parents, under her wing, giving him a new home and two sisters to play with.” I’m sure, Ma’s and Pa’s money wasn’t the main reason. She’s my actual aunt, of course, on the father’s side, his younger sister, mother had no real family that I know of, but as much as Pa was rich she was smart. They made an excellent business duo, the Investor, and the Inventor. Father’s money quadrupled in the first two years of their marriage. Match made in Heaven, people said. Aunt Mary wasn’t convinced though. She always thought my mom wasn’t trustworthy. When I was little, I’ve heard them fight, my parents and her, and, for a few months though my mother was a witch, because of my aunt’s words. Only after I’ve become a little older I understood that she used the different word, the one that starts with the “b”. She probably hated them both, her brother for being older and inheriting all of the money and my mom, for taking the control of my dad over, being an intruder, an outsider. She took his last name, she named me according to a family tradition but that wasn’t enough. For those five years, I’ve spent in her house, living alongside their family the only thing I’ve dreamed of is to get out as soon as I can. No, she never did anything bad to me per say, but she’d never hesitated with the reminders of her kindness.”
That was a truth bomb of a century. Damn, this kid is screwed. Percival has no idea what to say or how to handle this and the rest of the ride is grim and silent. They arrived at the mansion somewhere between late night and early morning, when everything is dead asleep and sun isn’t even thinking about rising, only living souls not in their beds are last security shift, who lets them through the gates. Credence is still silent, seemingly upset with Graves’s lack of tact and discretion around the painful subject but Percy still has no idea what to say
- “Listen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not like I don’t give a shit, I just don’t know how to say this. So yeah, sorry.”
- “I’m okay. Good night. I’ll call you when I need your services.”
Oh, that was cold. Boy disappears inside the house and from his life for a little. There is no calls or texts on his new phone, only some bits and pieces from servants group chat about Lady being angry and grounding the kid. Chief of guard spills a little more, telling that Credence got a big whooping and recovering from that, which doesn’t sound right. The situation is shitty from every perspective.
Percival comes by the servants quarters once in awhile trying to get any news, making friends with everyone who can tell him anything useful but people are definitely scared of the Lady Mary whom Graves haven’t seen yet. Who even has servants and calls herself Lady these days, good God.
Everything goes back to normal suddenly, much like it went south before. He wakes up one morning to a phone call and comes to pick up Credence like nothing’s happened. Boy definitely hides something but after the last time, Percy’s not touching this with a ten foot pole. This is not his problem.
*Two months later*
Their next outing is to another club in Brooklyn, how predictable now. When they went to gay clubs it was in the low and never to the same ones. Well, this tactic was working in their favor for now.
Boy always asked not to wait for him in front of a building, for hours on end, and to pick him up after he’d texted. That worked out for them both. Killing time isn’t that hard and there are some coffee shops to hang out in and maybe hit on cute baristas, or just read something like an actual person. Nightlife isn’t for him no more.
Text he receives is pretty concise
“Wait for me outside in ten minutes. Don’t come out.”
Okay, it’s working time. Parking near the club’s well-lit entrance Percival checks his watch - one minute left, good job, and prepares to wait some more.The person approaching the car is definitely not who Percy was expecting. Long lean legs in some kind of designer shoes, heels high and soles blood red, shiny skimpy skirt, he wasn’t sure of the material but it looked like a translucent leathery condom, so probably latex, and a top, made of the same thing over a small, almost nonexistent bosom, covered with a contraption made entirely out of thin straps and metal rings, like a cage snugly fitted over the stranger’s upper body, fingerless gloves and a small hat on top of huge mane of raven hair - the whole getup is black, see through and scandalous. Nice.
This wasn’t a first time he drove some of the Credence’s friends around, part of them young, pretty and kinda stupid socialites, fun, drunk and a bit petty, part - weirdos, bohemian fancy fucks who were high on some shit, yelled nonsense and asked dumb questions. This one was probably both, beautiful and weird so ride promised to be a handful. Maybe boy’s aunt will finally leave him alone about getting a girlfriend when he shows up with this one here, but probably bringing home the lady, who’s dressed like an expensive fetish prostitute will result in even more scrutiny.
The girl opens a car door and not really that gracefully plops herself in the backseat. For such a young woman she’s wearing quite a lot of makeup, features dark but skin so pale it was almost white. He hadn’t expected her to start undressing either. Was this some sort of prank, or did Credence actually ordered him a hooker?
Her long red nails went first, one by one as she presses fingertips to them and watches colored plastic fly away. Next to go were gloves, then the hat, shoes and the leather body holster. She wasn’t looking at him at all, minding her own business and Percival was a little confused, to say the least. When the skirt and the top started to come off he decided to take the situation into his own hands.
- “Hi, there! I have a quick question if you don’t mind: what in the actual fuck are you doing and who are you for God’s sake? Why are you almost naked in a stranger’s car?!”
- “What are you talking about, Percy? You definitely know me, c’mon.”
With those words, the last pieces of clothing were gone revealing smooth pale skin, complete absence of breasts and shiny tape covering the genitals. Wig went off, cap too, and there was Credence in just ridiculous amount of makeup staring back at him.
- “Wait, are you secretly a drag queen?”
- “No, actually, but some of my friends are. It was a themed night and I’ve decided to try it. On a more important note, though l didn’t pin you as a type who’s aware of gay culture, you know.”
- “We all got our secrets.”
- “Now I’m interested. Spill it!”
- “Ugh, okay. I had a different life before rehab and met people from different places. Is that enough information?”
- “Of course not! But I’ll wait until you’ll be ready to talk more.”
This kid. Rummaging through a purse he whips out a package of wet wipes and starts rubbing his face, peeling lashes off and smearing black and red all over. That’s a mess. The whole packet is barely enough to remove everything and boy’s skin looks inflamed, some lipstick residue left behind. When it’s time to peel the tape of his junk Credence shoots Percy a sharp look which makes the man averted his gaze to the road ahead, glancing in interest while kiddo shimmies tight jeans on up to the knees and rips sticky bonds with a hiss. Going commando is brave idea after all of that. After putting the t-shirt on boy leaves the car to return borrowed garments to a tall tanned queen waiting him out. They chat for a little, painted blonde bursts into laughter a few times while looking at Percy and then back to the kid. That little shit. They hug before parting and then she waves you both goodbye as the car drives away.
Credence is surprisingly timid now, trying not to look in Percival’s general direction and twirling his fingers, fidgeting in his seat, checking the belt and doing all the stuff people usually do when they’re worried.
- “What’s wrong? You’re kinda jittery, kiddo.”
He freezes completely with a look on his face of a bunny who just saw a snake unhinge its jaws to devour him. Truth comes out of him in a few minutes, almost a whisper
- “Can you keep a secret? This secret. Please. She’ll freak the fuck out if I show up looking like I was before. And I couldn’t do it inside. Please don’t rat me out.”
- “I won’t. Also, why should I? Nothing good will come of it if I do that.”
- “It’s just I can’t trust anyone my aunt hires. She makes them spy on me and tell her everything. There’s no one inside that house to support me.”
- “Your aunt didn’t hire me, main security guy did. And I’m not from your house, right. This is safe with me.”
Credence’s voice is soft and it sounds like he’s sobbing
- “Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve acted like ass before. I’m such a dick to you.”
- “Stop it. It’s okay. Let’s get food and go home. What would you fancy this time of evening.”
He is laughing now and it’s so much better seeing him smile than cry.
- “Taco Bell! Let diarrhea come, I’m ready.”
Now both chucking, they go into the drive-thru and eat tacos in the night. It’s the most peaceful after party in Percival’s memory. When he drops the boy off latter still smiles and that’s warming man’s heart to the very bottom.
*Next week*
Past several days are packed to the brim with activities, meetings, and plans. Kid’s birthday is coming and he is busy as ever. One night that he gets off, after supervising all the preparations, is the night of fun for him and a horror show for Graves. They go to some friend’s house, then to a liquor store, then to another friend to pick up five people - it’s insane. When the gaggle of tipsy youngsters finally get off at the destination he asks the boy to stay for a little
- “Hey. Be safe there, okay. Don’t do anything stupid.”
- “Yes, daddy. Can I go now?”
- “Oh God, don’t call me that. But in all seriousness, keep yourself in check. And one more thing. Credence, please, stay out of trouble this time around.”
- “Aww, you really care about me”
- “Somebody has to, you know.”
- “Alright, okay, I promise I’ll try my best. Bye-bye, I’ll text you.”
He blows a kiss a runs off into the crowd. That deserves a deep sigh. After the few hours of mindless driving and visiting numerous cafes for a cup of coffee Percival finally hears the phone chime. Text appears on the screen
“Pick me up.”
He pays quickly and rushes out of the building, while chiming resumes, one text after another
“I’m outside”
“Take me home”
“Now”
“Percy, I don’t feel so good”
“Please come and get me”
Fuck, what did the kid do? Graves speeds up, ignoring few road signs to be there for the boy as soon as he can. It’s a record time, but he could have been arrested for reckless driving. When Percival pulls up to a club Credence is nowhere to be seen. Shit. He’s trying to find the kiddo behind the building, in the alley where people smoke, take drugs and fuck, sometimes simultaneously. Thankfully, Credence is there, back against the wall, eyes glassy. That’s bad, really really bad. Percy jumps out and hurries up to his precious passenger.
- “What did I said about staying out of trouble?”
His response is slow, voice weak and raspy
- “Leave me alone. I know I fucked it up, let me wallow in my misery.”
- “Fuck no! You’re coming with me. Right! NOW! Move it, young man.”
Graves has to drag the kid into the back seat and put seat belt over almost non-responsive body. Goddamnit, both of them are so fucked. Boy is blabbering nonsense at this point
- “Just drop me off at some hotel, I’ll be alright, she won’t even notice I’m missing. I’ve done it before, quite successfully, actually. Just lie to the old bitch in the morning and everything will be fine.”
- “Listen, I don’t really want to be a part of this.”
- “Oh, me neither, buddy. She’ll go ballistic. Totally not looking forward to that”
- “This can cost me a good paying job, you know. The job that I really need. I’ve helped you as much as I could, but this you’ll have to face alone.”
- “I always face her alone.”
- “I don’t think you have a choice here. We can do this the easy way or the hard way and you are the one who has to choose which way it’ll be. I’m not really a fan of the second option and it might cost me this job and some other things, but you know that I’m bound by contract and can’t really do anything about that. And I’m also the man of my word. Plenty of things I’ve fucked up in this life, but promises - never. If you can’t keep your word you can’t be a decent man.”
Percy waits for response but gets no answer. Fucking brat has decided to give him a silent treatment. When the sound of an opening car window distracts Graves from driving it’s already too late - Credence is already vomiting copiously out of the full speed driving car. Goddamn little pig. The rattling of the door handle is the last thing Percival wants to hear at the moment. Is that idiot for real? Does he really want to just walk out of the moving vehicle?
Pulling over near some dingy alleyway, as far from the street lights as possible, Percy jumps out of the car first, to help out. The younger man is heaving, face red, puffy and sweaty, capillaries in his eyes busted from forcefully hurling over and over again. This is incredibly shitty. He helps the boy stumble into the privacy of the alley and rubs circles on his back, whilst the latter pukes his little heart out, last few spasms just empty dry heaving, the kind that will only make you feel worse. Shit. Coming back now, looking like this isn’t a good idea.
Something from not so recent memory surfaces and Percy is ready to act on it. Grabbing Credence tightly he marches back, shoves him in and floors the gas pedal. Closest 24-hour pharmacy is five minutes away but they got there in two. After gathering the supplies and paying Graves storms out just in time to catch that goddamn idiot boy falling out of the car. After even more dry heaving and tears they finally go to a place Percival wasn’t ready to show to anyone yet - his home.
Juggling keys and a plastic bag with all the medical things in one hand and trying to pull essentially passed out Credence up the stairs man basically fell inside his shitty apartment. Oh, this is gonna be one long long night. Dragging lanky body, even though kid was freakishly thin, was difficult especially when trying not to bang him up too much. Percy’s bed, this time thankfully made, was the only choice of surface to lay an unconscious body on. Digging into the bag, Graves produced out an I.V. unit, tubing, and a needle. Being out of practice could’ve hurt this idea but man focused all the mental capabilities he owned and pierced boy’s vein giving him much needed fluids and medication to make Credence better. Turning him on a side and leaving a bucket for any mishaps Percy left to make himself coffee. So that’s how his friends felt when he was like that. Shitty kind of feeling, he’s not gonna lie.
In a few hours and two more packets of I.V. fluid kid was better, not so ghoulishly green in the face and less choking on his own breath. It was time to talk some sense into him. Walking into a room with a sick person in it is always hard so some psyching up was needed. Graves slapped himself in a face a few times and entered. Boy was laying there, on his bed, in his home, suddenly so miserable and distressed and small looking, curled like a fetus on his side, face wet with tears. Like a punch in a gut, that is heart-wrenching. Percy tries to be understanding and gentle
- “Hi, sweetie. Are you feeling any better?”
Soft murmur is almost inaudible
- “A bit. Thank you.”
That’s probably bullshit but at least he’s trying to be polite, so some progress was made.
- “Do you want anything? A glass of water maybe?”
Boy whispers something Graves can’t hear. Dammit. Now for even more pointless asking.
- “I can do anything you want, really. I know full well how bad you feel right now, kiddo. Let me help you.”
Credence coughs a few times and rasps out an answer Percival was dreading
- “I would like to stay here, with you for a while. Maybe even longer. It’s nice, your place, it’s real and lived in and so homey, you know. Feels like someone actually lives here, not like a fucking dollhouse I exist in.”
Oh, here we go. That’s why Graves doesn’t help people. Fuck, how to lay him off now, when he found himself a “knight in shining armor”, a savior from his horrible life. Damnit!
- “Listen, kid, you might think that your life is the shittiest, worst life in the whole wide world, that you were robbed of your happy childhood with your loving parents in your pretty mansion with awesome toys but you’re wrong. You are privileged and pampered and don’t have any clue what outside life is like. You’ve never worked for anything, never really struggled and you never will because you’re rich. That woman won’t have any power over you when you’ll turn of age and on your merry way you go, all parties and no worries, until the end of your days. This is not your life and this life is not for you. There is not a single goddamn chance you could survive on your own.”
- “So I’m just some kind of spoiled rotten brat for you, ha? I’ve expected that, kinda predictable, really.”
- “Can’t fucking deny what’s there. Money corrupts people. I get it, okay. You’re bored. Having everything doesn’t satisfy you no more, so it’s time to mess with other people’s lives. Now, lemme tell you something - I don’t wanna be messed with. At all. I have my shit to deal with, so please, can you not add to that pile. It’s kinda huge as is.”
Credence starts crying for real now. Huge tears, sobs, and snot coming out of his nose. Fuck, it’s only got worse. Percy needs to do something quickly, so, in a state of complete and unfiltered panic he leans over a boy and gives him a full body hug, pressing wet face into a fabric of his shirt. Kid is wailing, grabbing him like he’s drowning. Graves clumsily pets his head and back and tries to murmur something soothing. Crying stops in a few minutes and Credence just lays there, pressed into him and breathing heavily.
- “Listen, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. You’re not a complete stranger to me and I care about you but that’s not something I have a lot of experience with. Suff like that is hard for me, I don’t know what to say or how to feel. I want to help but I don’t think I’ll be helpful.”
- “This is all her fault! That disgusting, vile, worthless bitch ruined my life. She’s always onto me and it’s hard for to be genuinely disinterested and unenthusiastic about things I like and she knows that and uses that knowledge to get to me every single time. Concealing my true feelings, my real identity, being fully aware of how I act, how I talk, how I move is a fucking torture. That repulsive scum of the Earth is always ready to strike and always happy to do so. I hate her, I’m tired of this and I just want to be myself, to be accepted. It’s so draining not only emotionally but physically too.”
- “Well, I’m sorry for you, kid, but there’s nothing I personally can do about it. It’s your life and the power is yours. Tell her to piss off, take the situation into your own hands and do whatever you like. And whatever she does to you isn’t your fault. You are stronger than this and you can fight her back. Take what’s yours and leave.”
- “As soon as I turn twenty-one. Next week. I’ll do it! Thank you, Percy.”
- “That’s the spirit! I’ll support you as much as I can, but, ultimately, you are the one to do it. And I believe you can.”
- “Thank you.”
His eyes are glimmering and he’s smiling beautifully. Fuck, Percy is so screwed. Boy leans in and parts his lips a little. Oh no, Graves feeling the huge mistake coming yet still goes with it. The kiss is soft and chaste, Credence’s hands all around him and gentleness of this encounter melt the rest of coldness inside Percy’s soul. They sit calmly, still hugging and kid finally drifts off. The man decides not to leave his side and falls asleep next to the boy. It’s the best night of sleep he had in years.
Morning is hazy, they hurry back to the mansion but before leaving the apartment Credence kisses him again, morning breath and all, still that doesn’t bother Percival even a bit. They drive in nice silence, holding hands, boy now sitting in a front seat and it’s magnificent. He’s probably falling in love, fuck. Before leaving the car kid turns around and with a serious look tells Percy something that both comes as a shock but also as an old news
- “I’ve liked you from the first day we met.”
- “You know, I kinda got that from all of your flirting.”
Boy blushes heavily.
- “No, you weren’t sneaky at all. But that was sweet. I like you too. Now go before we get in trouble.”
Credence squeezes man’s palm before climbing out and going inside. Oh good God, what did Percival got himself into?
*Credence’s Birthday*
So, the day has come. Twenty-first birthday of Credence Barebone, the single richest miserable boy in the world. Percival was ready, he bought the present and cleaned his apartment, leaving beautifully packaged box in the middle of the bed. Champagne, strawberries and chocolate cake in the fridge, pressed suit on, few spritzes of cologne - he was prepared as fuck.
Driving up to a highly decorated front gate Percy spotted the man of the hour himself, dressed more casually than Graves expected. Tight leather pants, plaid shirt, and a mesh tank top. Yes, sure, he looked incredible in the getup but how about the fancy party they were supposed to head to? Something definitely went wrong, kid never came this far to meet him.
Credence almost ran to a car wasting no time on climbing in, close to Percival. They both smile
- “Hello to you, birthday boy! So what’s all of this is about?”
- “Hi, handsome! Well, we discussed my party with aunt Mary and I’ve decided to spend my day the way I actually wanted to. So we’re going to a club my friends booked up and we gonna party ‘till we drop! Cool, ha?”
- “You had a fight, right?”
- “Yes, we had one. But I’m a legal adult now and I can do what I want to. So let’s go!”
- “Are you sure that it’s a good idea?”
- “Oh come on, old man, don’t be such a grouch, just join me for a bit of harmless fun. We’ll have everything - drinks, drugs, food. Let’s go, you really need something like this just about now. I personally know how big of a cunt my dearest aunt can be, so, for putting up with Auntie Cuntie’s bullshit you need a good reward. Forget about her and let’s roll!”
- “Okay, but I’ve warned you, just by the way. If we’re gonna get into something you’ll bail us out, it’s kinda your turn.”
- “Fine! And don’t be so grumpy, you’ll like it, it’ll be fine, you just need some molly and life will get peachy!”
- “That’s not the best idea you’ve had. Let’s not get high at all, okay. It’s bad for you!”
- “So why’d you smoke then? It’s bad for the health too, you know, it’ll destroy your body eventually.”
- “Oh yes, I’m well aware of that. But tell me, sweetness, what’s not gonna kill you these days? The air we breathe is polluted, the things we eat are highly processed, everything around us slowly goes extinct, diseases becoming more and more potent and garbage litters our habitats, even going into space. We’re fucked as a civilization and as a species, we’re doomed as a society. Why should I care about lung cancer or heart attacks when I have a bigger chance of dying even before that can happen to me. And, then, why do people who live “healthy” lifestyles are still dying of the same things. Yeah, I don’t really give a fuck anymore, if it’s doing nothing to help or harm me really, why stop.”
- “Well, fuck. That kind of life philosophy is deeply flawed and quite depressing.”
- “I don’t really care much about that.”
- “Maybe you should, and things in your life won’t suck as much!”
Percival chuckles
- “ And maybe I want something to finally suck me off.”
Boy’s face flushes in pink so fast upon hearing those words. It’s delightful seeing him flustered and hiding his eyes. So cute.
- “The rant about smoking was sarcastic actually. I wanted to quit for a long time now. Who knows, maybe you’ll help me.”
Credence is even cuter now, hopeful and happy and so adorably helplessly sheepish with affection. You can feel the waves of adoration rolling off him. Such a sweetie.
They parked next to the club and Percy recognized the place.
- “Is that the same place you did a drag night in?”
- “You’ve remembered it? Yes, my best friend works here and he’s, sorry, she’s booked for today.”
- “Tall, tanned blonde? She made a great girl out of you. But don’t worry, I prefer you as a boy hundred times more.”
He’s blushing again. This is so fun. They get in and place is decorated with every possible thing in the party store, bright colors and crinkling plastic everywhere. A huge group of people waits for them and cheers when Credence walks in. All those people are his friends. And he deserves each and every one of them.
People surround kid’s and congratulate him, wishing a ton of things and filling his hands with presents. Percival hopes boy is having a good and excuses himself to a bar. Well, he just can’t skip a celebration like this, so they are Ubering home tonight because he’s drinking.
Six Long Island iced teas and five White Russians later Percy is pretty shitfaced, relaxed and happy. The show in the background isn’t as obnoxious as he’d expected but maybe alcohol gave him more tolerance to that kind of bullshit. Music starts playing and everyone storms to a dance floor leaving him alone with bartender. Gesturing for a refill he hears footsteps approaching
- “Make that two, Candy. And put it on gentlemen’s tab. No lady should pay for her drink.”
Percival turns to find that drag queen from before sitting next to him, dressed in sparkly rhinestoned black leotard, insanely high heels and bunny ears, tail is probably somewhere there too
- “Hi! Did you want to speak to Credence? Unfortunately, I can’t find him in the crowd, but you might be able to do that from the stage.”
She’s laughing
- “No, deary, I wanted to speak to you. But first, the treat.”
And downs her drink in one gulp. Impressive.
- “You seem like a nice guy, I’ll give you that. And the benefit of a doubt. But our dear, sweet Credence has been through hell and back and I don’t want nobody hurting him, you get me? So, in case you don’t actually have feelings for him, stay the fuck away. Is that clear?”
- “More than clear, Ma'am. I do actually have feelings for him, and think that’s none of your business but, considering that Credence likes your company so much I won’t tell you to piss off right away. We can try to be friendly to each other at least.”
- “Well, I like your style. He chose right this time. Don’t break his heart or I’ll break your face. Bye.”
And she downs his drink too before leaving. What a bitch. Strong, confident, cool bitch. The bartender puts three shots before him, on the house. Graves waists no time and takes them one after the other. Oh Jesus, was that a moonshine? While he’s trying to remember how to breathe, kid jumps onto his back and squeals from glee
- “Best. Party. Ever. This is so awesome!”
He seems off, though, movements twitchy and weird, excitement clearly chemically amplified. This is worrying.
- “We gotta go, Credence, it’s time for you to get home. I don’t want it to be like the last time.”
- “I don’t wanna do that. Not now, not ever. That place is not my home, it never was. It’s just the house I live in. I don’t have a home since Ma and Pa died.”
This again. Dammit, Percy hoped not to provoke that type of conversation on the boy’s special night.
- “I’m talking about my home, kiddo. I have something there for you. That was supposed to be a surprise but I just couldn’t help myself. So, whatcha think? Let’s ditch them and go?”
Boy smiles so widely his cheeks probably hurt.
- “Okay, but gimme a kiss first!”
And they do kiss, boy’s tongue inside his mouth and weird taste with it. Graves notices the effects only when it hits him. That’s uppers. Credence shoved a bunch of molly in his mouth. Goddamnit. Alcohol and drugs hit him hard, all inhibitions lost and mind open to anything. Everything’s a blur, faces, shapes, lights. It’s all so bright and bizarre and loud. He remembers only fragments: dancing, kissing, drinking some more, singing, contests and doing coke of off Credence’s stomach. How they end up in the bathroom is a mystery yet the door’s closed and no one is there to interrupt them passionately making out.
When thin long legs cross behind Percy’s hips and pull him flush against kid’s crotch a brief moment of lucidity brakes through all of the substances bringing one sober thought - this isn’t right.
“Graves, what the fuck are you getting yourself into? He’s barely an adult, he’s technically your employer and his mental aunt will eat you with shit for breakfast. You are so fucked. Why are you doing this? Just say no. Politely decline his advances, go home, masturbate for a few hours and the next day it will be like nothing ever happened. He’ll forget everything, he’s so high. And you are high too. This is such a bad idea.”
The voice in his head, that annoying subconscious worm who ate his hopes and dreams, that piece of shit, was drilling his brains again with the usual. Although Credence’s advances were a good distraction, especially when he starts palming Percival’s cock through the fabric of his pants and moans softly.
Ah, fuck it. What did the kid yell the other day? YOLO? So be it, you really only live once, it’s time for him to live again. Maybe that’s drugs talking or maybe it’s just the years and years of suppressed desires coming back to him, but Percy was ready to party like he did long long long time ago and there was nothing to stop him. Finally.
And his lean beautiful body promised infinite pleasure, the most sensual good time on this earth. Goddamnit stop thinking about him this way. Fucking poet all of the sudden, this always happens when he’s high.
But all of the words in the world can’t describe the way Credence rubs himself against Percival’s body and how hard, hot and bothered he is. Oh, how strong is the desire to just devour him whole. They kiss aggressively, biting and wrestling their tongues, hands palming one another greedily. Boy is panting already, eyes dark with want and lips bright from kissing and moist with saliva. Percy’s dress shirt goes first, suit jacket and tie he cautiously left in the car before entering the club. Kid’s top follows, leaving him in mesh only which spikes man’s interest even more. Biting a pink nipple through the fabric, squeezing his ass and rutting into boy’s hardness with his own is intoxicating.
Credence is moaning louder and louder as less and less clothing separates them. Percival pulls his own trousers and boy’s leather pants to expose them both and rub themselves together. Kid’s jaw goes slack as he bucks into the hand pleasuring him and digs fingers into Graves’s back. The sting of pain only makes him hotter and now aforementioned leather garment is pulled down to Credence’s ankles and Percival is firmly between them, petting the soft skin on the back of boy’s thighs. Only thing latter can choke up is a desperate plea
- “Back pocket, there’s lube. You’ll tear me with that thing of yours without it.”
Another wild kiss. Another breathless moan
- “Stretch me first, please. You’re fingers, I want them inside me. Hurry! I can’t handle myself no more!”
So Graves is lifting Credence’s whole body up into the air and propping him on a sink counter, boy’s knees squeezing Percival’s ribs while latter’s hands ran across untouched buttocks and loin. Prying said lube is a task in on itself and Percy has to open the package with his teeth, spitting chunk of wrapper on a floor. Lathering his fingers quickly he gently traces middle one between boy’s cheeks before teasing the tight ring of muscle with barely a tip. Kid shivers and pushes himself forwards seeking penetration.
- “Hold your horses sweetie. You wanted to be ready, right? So let me help you.”
- “Don’t tease me, please. I want you so badly. Percy, fuck me!”
- “Your word is my command, baby.”
And with that one finger is inside boy’s body. His hole flutters when Graves curves a fingertip upwards upon thrusting in, picking up pace. Credence moans every time Percival moves and soon he’s ready for more. The second finger goes in smoothly, joining the first, stretching hot, velvety tightness. A perfect litany of sighs moans and gasps leaves boy’s lips when his mouth isn’t occupied by Graves’s.
Leaving a trail of bite marks and hickeys, bright purplish-red against almost white skin Percy showers boy’s neck and collarbones in attention while adding the third finger in. Kid writhes and gasps trying to find purchase and to sink more on digits pumping in and out of his body. Wet sounds fill the room, boy is begging for more with his movements and noises and Graves complies.
Pulling out completely Percy gives Credence a soft kiss and before kid is able to say anything else opens up a condom he found in the same pocket lube was in. Just touching himself right now is too much, the head of his cock swollen and slick with pre-come. Unrolling the rubber slowly Graves hisses at the feeling. He hopes Credence is ready because he can’t wait anymore.
Pushing in slowly he looks into boy’s eyes intently, watching his expression, gentle not to hurt the kid. Surprisingly it easy, sliding inside to the hilt while Credence is tensing completely before going slack and moaning. He is tight, hot and trembling, delirious with raw want. As Percy’s trying to steady himself before going any farther boy starts rocking forwards, impaling his body on a hard cock, letting out soft sobs. When they change the angle kid goes ballistic, clenching around Percival, clutching his neck, clawing the back of man’s head. Graves repeatedly thrust into that sweet spot, grinding it some more.
All those drugs are messing with his ability to last and he is already getting closer than he would have liked to. Every friction sends a red-hot wave up the pit of Percival’s stomach and when they pick up the pace it becomes almost unbearable. Sharp jolts of pleasure make his head swim and hands shake. Boy’s breath, hot and damp against his skin makes him prickle with goosebumps, makes his nipples hard as he rubs their bodies together, chasing kid’s warmth, pressing Credence’s rock hard cock better them.
Throaty whimpers boy makes go higher in pitch, he quivers and trembles and rubs himself back against Percy’s skin. Rhythm is punishing, bodies move in perfect sync, everything else completely fades. Only them and sweet pleasure ahead. Kid’s shaking rasp voice in his ear begs for more
- “Don’t stop, please! I’m so close! Cum inside me! Please! Feels so good!”
Broken moans and gasps leave boy’s mouth while Percy earnestly thrusts into him, hard and fast, rocking the thin form underneath him, making Credence arch like a bow opening pale throat for further assault. They both are so unbelievably close, kid’s body clenching hard, core tight with anticipation and Percy can’t take it anymore, hoarsely moaning
- “Now be a good boy and come for me!”
And Credence unravels completely, almost shouting, convulsing, squirting cum all over their bodies, his body spasming chaotically, muscles fluttering, milking Percival’s cock. Graves climaxes hard, rocking himself into his sweet boy, grunting, and moaning. Aftershocks are exquisite, warmth and relaxed calm happiness fill them both. Embracing each other they pant for air and kid giggles. After a slow and gentle kiss, Percy pulls out and takes the condom off, tying it and tossing into a trash can. Credence pulls his pants up, face scrunching as the material touches his ass. Then chuckles softly when Graves gives him a concerned look
- “I’ve never been fucked like this before. Good God, I can barely stand. You’ll probably have to carry me to our car like a bride now.”
- “And I will. Do you need time to recover?”
- “Not really. I’m still very much high. Let’s go, we should come out if we wanna go anywhere.”
- “Did you plan this, by the way?”
- “Birthday sex? Yes. The best gift in the world! What else did you get me?”
- “Round two, if you’re a good boy.”
Credence most definitely is expected by that proposition and after hasty fixing their clothing both men walk out only to be ambushed by a cheering crowd. Fuck, they heard everything. Percival has no idea where to hide his face and how to avoid stares so the first drink in his proximity ends up in his mouth before he can even collect himself. And another one, and another one. It’s a bliss, being so hammered that nothing bothers you anymore.
He doesn’t remember how exactly did they get home, but they are in his bed, nude and cuddling, boy’s head on his shoulder, legs tangled together, hands wrapped around each other and for the first time in forever Percival feels complete. He’s loved and he’s loving back, all thanks to this disaster of a man lying beside him. Credence is amazing and deserves happiness and Percy will do anything to make his dear beloved boy happy.
The end.
P.S. Oh, hi there. Thanks for reading, please leave me a comment or like and reblog if you’d enjoyed it. Ask me stuff here on Tumblr and my other fics are here and here. Go bother me, I’ll be happy to talk to you. Bye.
#gravebone#gradence#credence/graves#credence x graves#credence barebone#percival graves#fanfic#gradence fic#fantastic beasts and where to find them#fantastic beasts fanfic#fantastic beasts fic#gradence fanfic#gradence au#au#modern au#fbawtft#hella gay#gay#please read it
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Finding Home (Epilogue)
Part One: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home
Part Two: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-two
Part Three: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-three
Part Four: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-four
Part Five: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-fiive
Part Six: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-six
Part Seven: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-seven
Part Eight: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-eight
Part Nine: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-nine
Part Ten: http://percyjacksonfan3.tumblr.com/post/164310003982/finding-home-part-ten
When they get back it’s pretty uneventful.
There’s Chiron waiting for them on the steps of the Big House. Mr. D, Grover, Juniper, Nico, Will and Rachel are with him.
Apart from that things seem to be the same as always.
Grover and Rachel are grinning widely, and Will and Nico make their way over. Nico shoots him a quick nod before moving to Frank.
“Mr. D told us you were coming back.” Chiron comes down to greet them, stopping beside Percy, helping to pull Frank from Blackjack and handing him to Nico and Will, who bring him inside. “Percy, my boy, I am so- I am so sorry-”
“Chiron,” Percy slides down from Blackjack, patting him and promising to sort out any building revolutions in the stables. He turns to his mentor after Blackjack goes away, presumably to find some donuts or sugar. He’s a little alarmed at the emotion in Chiron’s voice- his trainer was very hard to unnerve. Percy doesn’t know if he ever remembers seeing it before. “What are you talking about? Sorry for what?”
The centaur’s face takes on a look of guilt. “I refused to send out a team for your rescue. The giant was somehow able to, ahem, control me and my actions. If it hadn’t been for Mr. D and his careful moderation I would never have snapped out of it.” Chiron appraises them. “I’m just thankful that none of you were injured. You all look perfectly fine.”
Percy glances at the others, silently warning them not to say anything. He’ll tell Chiron, of course he will, but not here in the open. “I’m not mad at you.” Percy says. “Or Leo. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Chiron nods. “Very gracious of you, my boy, very gracious. Now, if you would…”
He brings Percy up to the group, and Grover pulls away from Annabeth to hug him quickly. “Our empathy link came back to me,” he whispered. “What happened?”
Percy hugs him tight. “Later. I’ll tell you all at once.”
Rachel practically bowls him over with the force of her running into him. “Thank Apollo,” she says before pulling back to whack his shoulder.
“Ow!” He complained.
“You dummy,” Rachel says. “How many times are you going to make Annabeth come and rescue you, hmm?”
His jaw drops and he wants to say something in protest but Juniper comes up to him shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “Oh, hush, Rachel, he’s just gotten back. Wait for tonight to terrorize him.”
Percy grins and hugs her quickly too. “Thanks a lot,” he says, and Grover bleats a laugh.
They all fall quiet when Mr. D comes up to them, and Percy glances to the side to see Annabeth giving him a significant look. He frowns, not understanding, and she gestures to the god.
Percy shakes his head but is unable to ask. Mr. D pops the tab on his Diet Coke, takes a slurp and looks at him with a bored expression. “Is this the last time we’re going to have to concern ourselves with your disappearance Porticus?”
Irritation fills him, like it usually does when he’s around Mr. D. “It’s not like I plan to be kidnapped-”
“Yes, well,” Mr. D looks away. “Do make sure it doesn’t happen again, would you?”
Percy gapes and Annabeth comes to stand beside him, linking their fingers together. “Thank you, Mr. D, for your help.”
Dionysus sniffs. “Would it really have been such a tragedy to leave him out there?”
“Look, Wine Dude-”
Jason makes a choking noise and Piper claps him on the back, face grim. Annabeth nudges Percy’s side and he looks at her only to find her head shaking in warning.
“Agh,” Dionysus’ lip curls in disgust. “Who started that, I demand to know? Whoever it was can expect-”
Hazel’s arrival thankfully diffuses the tension, probably also saving her brother a premature death. “Where’s Frank?” She demands right away, feeding Arion a nugget of gold.
“Inside with, Will.” Annabeth answers her. “Where all of us should be.”
When the room fills Will looks up, his mouth twitching. “He’s completely fine,” he reassures Hazel before turning to the rest of them. “Honestly, I think he’s just asleep.”
Leo laughs and Hazel moves to sit beside Frank, ignoring Nico’s frown as she runs a hand through his hair. “He’s been so tired with everything going on, all of the attacks on Camp Jupiter and being Praetor… he’s exhausted.”
“Let him sleep then,” Nico says. “You’ll wake him up, touching him like that.”
Percy laughs and Nico shoots him a glare. “Shut up,” the son of Hades mutters and Percy mimes zipping his lips closed. “What happened to you anyway?” Nico continues, eyes raking him over.
Percy sobers up, looking around at all of the expectant faces, returning Annabeth’s squeeze of his hand. “Let’s go to the rec room,” he says. “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
oooOOOooo
Afterwards there’s silence. No questions, no comments. Just… silence as everyone takes it all in.
Except one.
“That will be it, right?” Percy’s looking around anxiously, waiting for an answer. “There’s no more Triumvirate, Aristaeus was the hidden ace up their sleeve in case they failed. There’s nothing else to worry about?”
“Well, there’s your everyday typical monsters,” Leo points out. “You know, ones that kill mortals and demigods who don’t have training or help.”
Piper glared at him. “Very helpful, Leo, thank you.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying.”
Percy ignores them, looking at Chiron. “No one else trying to destroy the gods and take over Olympus. No more evil Titans or Giants waiting around to get us. This was it, right? It’s done. I’m done.”
Chiron looks at him sadly. “You know I can’t promise anything like that, Percy.”
He stands up, slamming his hands on the ping pong table and making everybody jump. “Then what’s the point?” He demands. Nico’s watching him wide eyed, worry on his face. Annabeth is sitting silently, taking it in. Everyone is looking at him warily. “If I have to keep putting my life on hold to fight someone else and be another monster’s personal punching bag, what’s the point?”
“Percy,” Piper says after seconds of no one answering him. “It’s who we are.”
“Who we are.” Percy repeats flatly. “Right.” He nods finally. “I’m going to call my mom,” he mutters, not looking at anybody else as he storms out.
Chiron looks at Annabeth. “What do you suggest we do?” He asks her.
Annabeth looks away from the door Percy had just slammed behind him. “He’s upset.” She says. “And he’s been through a lot. You know what he’s like Chiron.”
Chiron sighs and sits back. “Let him call his mother,” he mutters, rubbing his temples. “Then someone go and talk to him.”
Leo coughed. “So um, he really died? And the gods brought him back?”
“He said the Fates mended his string,” Annabeth looked at Chiron. “They don’t do that.”
“No,” the centaur is staring at the table. “They don’t. In all my time on this earth I have never even heard of such a thing...”
Hazel pipes up. “I was brought back to life, by Nico.” Nico cringes. “The gods turn a blind eye to it. I’m sure Percy will be fine.”
Annabeth doesn’t look reassured. “I guess.”
“I brought Jason back too.” Piper says. “Hera said it shouldn’t have been possible. And you’re fine, aren’t you Sparky?”
Jason nods. “Last I checked.”
“I would ask Mr. D, but…” Chiron shifted. “It’s a delicate subject.”
Will spoke. “Nico felt Percy die. Then he felt him come back. He’s not a ghost or anything, he’s really here.”
“For how long?” Annabeth asks them, and the room falls quiet again.
Chiron looks up at the roof as if seeking guidance. Nothing comes. “For as long as the Fates allow, just as it is for the rest of you,” he says finally.
With that the meeting is over.
oooOOOooo
Rachel looks up as Hazel comes into the room and stands from Frank’s bedside. “He must be really tired.”
Hazel nods, reaching out to take his hand. “Thanks for watching him.”
“Hey, no problem.” Rachel clears her throat. “Percy told you what happened to him?”
Hazel looks up at her. “You know already?”
Rachel shrugs. “I saw most of it in flashes. Not all. Enough.” She sighs, looking tired. “I’m just glad he’s okay.”
Hazel nods. “Me too.”
“Hey,” Frank’s voice is a croak and Hazel looks over to meet his eyes. “What happened?”
She can’t help but kiss his cheek. “Frank! Thank gods!”
Frank blinked a few times before pulling himself up to sit against the headboard. “Am I… in the Big House?”
Rachel clears her throat. “I’ll let you tell him everything.” She says. “Glad you’re awake, Frank.”
“Thanks Rachel.”
Hazel squeezes his hand when she’s gone. She plans on telling him everything, but first she needs to get this out. Aristaeus has unsettled her. “Frank, you know I love you, right?”
Frank’s eyes widen. “What?”
“You know, when I ended things, it wasn’t because I didn’t like you.” Hazel hastens to say, a blush staining her cheeks.
“I know.” Frank says eventually, his own blush fading. “You weren’t ready. We’re still best friends.”
Hazel nods. “The way I saw it, everything was the same, we just didn’t do the physical stuff anymore. And I liked that. I like that. And I’m starting to think that, soon, things will be different and we can try everything again, brand new.”
Frank looks slightly terrified and she smiles at him. “Don’t worry I- oh, this isn’t coming out right.” She frowns. “I’m not asking you to wait for me-”
Frank laughs.
Hazel pulls back, slightly hurt. “What?”
“Nothing,” Frank shakes his head. “It’s just- that’s such a typical movie line.”
“Is it?” Hazel asks him. “I still haven’t seen many movies.”
“It is.” Frank says warmly, squeezing her hand. “And I know. Continue. Please.”
“All I’m saying is, when I do want to start dating, the first person I want to date is you.” Hazel’s cheeks feel warm. “The only person I want to date is you. That hasn’t changed.”
“Hazel,” Frank looks at her warmly. “I know. Same goes for me too. Nothing’s changed since we talked last, what’s brought this on?”
Hazel nods. “Okay. I just… wanted you to be sure.”
His eyes are soft. “I’m always sure of you, Hazel Levesque,” he says.
When she goes to lay against his chest, Frank opens his arms right away to hold her there. “So,” he asks. “What happened to Percy?”
She turns her head and smiles into his shirt.
oooOOOooo
That day it rains at Camp Half-Blood.
It doesn’t just rain, it storms. Thunderclouds roll overhead, lightning flashes, illuminating purple, grey and black clouds, and Percy sits on the step to Cabin Three, watching it all.
He’s soaked through in seconds.
His mom had cried on the phone, and Percy had too. But she’d been happy he was safe and said he should wait until tomorrow to come back if that’s what he wanted.
He’s so tired that he thinks he will.
The rain is pouring down onto his face, getting in his eyelashes and stinging his eyes when Jason comes and sits beside him.
“Hey,” the blonde say.
“Hi.” Percy says back.
Jason looks at him closely. “You okay?”
Percy snorts. “No. You?”
“Nah.” Jason shakes his head. “Like you said, it gets pretty hopeless sometimes. I know we won and everything, and we got everyone home safe, but…”
Percy sighs. “But.” He agrees.
Jason looks up as thunder crashes around them again. “But we got you back,” Jason says. “And we won what could possibly be the last real battle we’ll all ever have to face. That counts for something, Percy.”
Percy looks over at him, watching the raindrops trail their way from his hair down his neck and onto his shirt. His own shirt sticks to his skin in a damp blanket. Percy doesn’t care about keeping it dry at the moment.
“Thank you,” he says. “You and Piper and Leo. Hazel and Frank too. Thank you for coming back for me.”
Jason shakes his head. “Did you really think we wouldn’t? After everything?” He looks over, his next words aren’t a question, just a statement. “You’d do the same for any of us.”
Percy used to be the kid with no friends. Maybe one, if he was lucky. His first real friend was Grover, back at Yancy. His second had been Luke, then Annabeth, and slowly other kids at Camp had crept in.
His fatal flaw is loyalty to people he would ravage the world to save.
It looks like a few more people have crept their way onto that list.
“Yeah,” Percy looks back up at the sky, feeling himself relax. Allowing himself to realize just how much he actually liked Jason. “Yeah I would have.”
“Sometimes I wonder how things would have been different,” Jason says, “if it had been you and Reyna switched by Hera. Or Annabeth and Reyna. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I was the Greek demigod she chose and you were the Roman.”
Jason’s next words are a whisper, almost breathless. “Sometimes I want it,” he’s still looking up at the sky. “So, so badly.”
Percy doesn’t say anything.
“Sometimes I wish Thalia had been the Roman and I was the Greek. Other times I wish Zeus had never heard of my mom and we were mortal.”
Percy glances over.
“But we’re not.” Jason says, looking over and meeting his eyes in return. “And if we were, I wouldn’t have Piper. You wouldn’t have Annabeth. We would never have known about Grover, or Hedge. Tyson never would have sought you out. Blackjack wouldn’t be your pegasus, Mrs. O’Leary wouldn’t be your hellhound… you never would have known these people. Even the ones you’ve lost in the wars, you never would have known they even existed to lose.”
Percy swallows, feeling his throat close up.
“You’re the son of Poseidon.” Jason says fiercely. “I’m the son of Jupiter. We can’t change that, Percy. And, frankly, most of the time I don’t want to.”
Percy looks away, turning back up to the skies, wondering if Zeus sent rain here today for a reason or if he was just in a bad mood.
“You’re right,” he says to Jason.
Jason hums beside him and Percy nods. “And I know all of that. I was just…”
“I know.” The blonde replies, and then, “sometimes I am too.”
And that’s that.
The two of them sit like that for close to an hour, getting drenched by the rain, looking up at the clouds on the step of the Poseidon cabin. And when the storm breaks before supper they head to the dining pavilion together.
Annabeth sits at the Poseidon table.
No one questions it.
And later, there’s campfire.
It’s so normal. Percy’s in between Grover and Annabeth, arm slung over her shoulder. Campers are singing, the flames are a brilliant, blazing golden. Katie is throwing dirty looks at Travis every time he throws something at her, Connor is waxing (bad) poetic about Lou Ellen, Frank and Hazel are being suspiciously cute, blushing at every glance, and Percy’s reminded of when he first met them, before they started dating the first time.
Jason and Piper are leading the camp in a rendition of Zeus Might Be Your Father, But Hera is Not Your Mom, and Chiron is surveying them all with a happy, peaceful smile on his face. Percy makes a mental note to thank him again before the night is over just as Clarisse and Chris start throwing taunts at Malcolm about the next Capture the Flag.
(Really it’s just Clarisse with Chris making apologetic looks over her shoulder.)
And Percy’s so happy. This is what Jason was talking about earlier, it’s what he missed stuck in that gods damned cave. This feeling and these people. He misses the summers when everyone comes back from their schools and spends time together.
He’s missed Camp.
Annabeth is beside him, roasting them both marshmallows. “So,” she plucks the sticky treat from the prong with crackers and chocolate, handing the s'more to him. “We’re both alive, thanks to your dad.”
Percy looks over at her.
“And we defeated the last giant.” She makes her own s'more, studiously avoiding his gaze. “Nothing else to worry about at the moment.”
He smiles and nods. “Yep.”
“And we’re back at Camp.” She finally looks over, icking the stray pieces of marshmallow falling from the s’more and making him very distracted. “So I was wondering, if you wanted to, maybe tonight…”
Percy tears his eyes away from her tongue, which is licking at her lips, back to her eyes, gulping. “Yeah?”
“After everyone’s asleep,” Annabeth says breathily, leaning over to get closer, and Percy really hopes Grover isn’t listening with his heightened hearing because that would be embarrassing for them all. “When you’re alone in your cabin, I could maybe come visit.”
She pulls back, turning to watch the fire and takes a bite of the treat. “You know. If you want to.”
“Gods, yes.” Percy says and they both smile at the fumble in his voice.
Annabeth moves to link their free hands. “Okay then.”
Percy squeezes.
His eyes are caught by Mr. D, who grumbles something to Chiron before retreating, probably claiming her has a headache, like every other night.
"I'll be right back," Percy kisses Annabeth on the cheek and she looks at him intently before her gaze flicks to Mr. D's retreating figure.
She nods. "Alright."
He gets up and follows the god, speaking after he’s swallowed his s’more. "Mr. D!"
His voice isn't loud enough to be heard by the singing campers where they sit at the campfire, but the two of them are far enough up the slight incline that it's quiet enough for the god to stop.
Percy hears him sigh just before he turns around, allowing Percy to come closer. "Yes, Pelinus?"
Percy ignores that. "Annabeth told me you let them come get me and I know you helped Chiron."
Mr. D crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. Percy continued before he could say anything.
"Zeus told me all of the Olympians did something and they voted, to keep me alive." Mr. D's unimpressed look turns into one that is distinctly uncomfortable. "All of the Olympians. And I saw each of them, just for a second, after Hades let me go. Except you."
Dionysus raised an eyebrow. "And? What is your point, demigod?"
"You voted to let me come back from the Underworld," Percy says, knowing it’s true when Mr. D glances away. "Why?"
Mr. D is quiet for a long time, the purple fire in his eyes flickering.
Percy presses on. "Why didn't I see you after I came back? Like the others?"
The god of wine scoffs, but it's half hearted. Percy's heard better from him in the past. "I see you all summer as it is. Why in the world would I desire to see your face sooner than I have to?"
And it's not an answer to his questions, it's not a nice thing to hear, but Percy fills with warmth at the reply.
"Thank you, Dionysus," Percy says, the god’s name just slipping out, and before he can be incinerated he turns away, intent on making his escape back to the campfire.
Dionysus stops him after another sigh.
"Percy."
It's surprise that makes Percy stop, and the curious tone of the god's voice that makes him turn around. It doesn't sound like he's going to be turned into a dolphin, so that's a good sign.
Mr. D looks almost pained. "I used to be a mere wine seller, as all you half-bloods should know."
He lets that sink in and Percy looks on in confusion. Dionysus waves a hand in exasperation. "My point is, that I wasn't always a god. I wasn't always feared and for a while my opinion meant nothing to my peers. That changed, of course, when I gained immortality, but it doesn't erase that I know what it feels like to be wrong. I've experienced when someone must swallow their pride, as it is something I have had to do many times. I have always been better at it than the other Olympians.
"Perhaps," the god continued, "the reason that they all vouched for you to Hades after the Fates mended your string was because they felt indebted by everything you had done. Perhaps some," here Mr. D paused and looked at him significantly, "had even grown fond of you, and felt bad for leaving you stranded in a time of need."
Percy's too stunned to reply.
"Of course I have no idea why," Mr. D's voice and demeanor returns to normal, "given that you're a particularly annoying breed of child, Pedro. Which is saying something, given that almost all children are distasteful to me."
Percy's mouth twitches. "I see."
Dionysus grows serious once more. "Do you?"
Percy nods. The god surveys him, eyes raking over him from head to toe, before nodding back.
"Well, good. Now please do try and not get kidnapped for at least a few months, I almost forget what it's like for things to be peaceful around here. The last time it happened was before you arrived six years ago, if I recall correctly."
Percy nods, turning to walk back to the fire. "Sure, Mr. D."
"And you're on dishes the day you return." Dionysus calls.
Percy stops and turns around, indignant. "What? Why?-"
"Because I feel like it," Dionysus replies blithely. "You have plenty of friends who were worried about you when you were gone, rope them into helping."
Percy opens his mouth to protest at the unfairness, but Dionysus grins at him and Percy closes his mouth, figuring just this once, to let the god away with it.
"Good night, Mr. D," he says instead and they even share a smile before Dionysus turns away to walk back to the Big House alone.
oooOOOooo
Afterwards, Percy relaxes.
For the first time since he'd found out that he was a half-blood, he truly relaxes.
There's no next Great Prophecy to worry over. That means there's no small part of him that's terrified the next great foe will involve him. Annabeth has no bad feelings and there's no part of her unsettled because as far as the two of them know, they're done. They're free, nothing is coming after them, no one is waiting to take revenge and there's no more powerful immortals that are coming to threaten the peace they've worked so hard to feel.
Percy goes home. Hand in hand with Annabeth they walk through the door to his family's apartment.
He has no choice but to let go of her hand when his mom immediately catches sight of him and gets up from her seat at the kitchen counter.
Percy strides forward, arms wide, and he catches his mother mid-waddle in a gasp-wrenching hug.
"Percy, oh my baby," Sally murmurs, and despite the fact that Percy is tall enough to place his chin on top of his mother's head, Sally runs her hand through his hair as Percy hunches over to hold her close. "Thank gods you're safe."
"I'm so sorry, mom." He speaks, surprised at the sudden emotion in his throat. He clings to her tighter. "I never meant to get lost again."
"Oh, honey," Sally returns the increased pressure in their hug. "I'm just happy you're home."
They stay like that for a long time, just hugging one another in the apartment's entrance, until Paul clears his throat.
Percy slowly disentangles himself from his mom only to be assaulted by a hug from his step-father. Paul's voice is gruff when he speaks, but the layer of relief underlying it makes Percy's heart warm. "We were so worried."
Percy nods into Paul's shoulder. "I know. I'm sorry-"
"I had to physically restrain your mother from attempting to storm Olympus." Paul chuckled as they pulled away from each other.
"If any mortal could do it, it would be her." Annabeth speaks from where she's extricating herself from Sally's hug, but she keeps an arm wrapped around Sally.
Sally blushes.
Percy meets her eyes and smiles at the happiness that radiates from her. He cocks an eyebrow and nods down at her stomach. "She's late, is she?"
Sally's hands fall to rest on her very pregnant belly. "Like her brother." She says.
Percy's mouth opens as Paul chuckles and he moves to lead his mom to sit down on the couch in the living room, leaving Paul to rope Annabeth into helping bring out drinks from the kitchen. "That is-"
"Untrue," Sally admits as she slowly lowers herself onto the cushion with Percy helping her. "Because I was there to kick your butt into gear when you wouldn't move it along."
Percy mocks hurt. "I was an absolute angel child-"
Sally snorts and gives her son a look. "You've already given me grey hairs," she says, reaching up to pat his head. "But you were an angel. My perfect little angel." Sally's eyes tear up unexpectedly. "I was so worried, Percy."
Percy feels his throat choke with emotion. "Mom-"
"I know you're a demigod." Sally grips his hands and later they'll both say it was the hormones that made them so emotional (though it’s no excuse for Percy). This was a woman who had killed monsters with a shotgun and fought in the battle of Manhattan alongside her husband without blinking an eye. "But haven't you done enough now? Don't you get your happy ending?"
Percy thinks back to the talk he'd had with his father. Poseidon didn't know his fate. Nobody did, except the Fates themselves. Hades had said he had a much more painful death coming, years away.
And he had to admit; this time felt different somehow. There was no reason to look over his shoulder just to make sure nothing was coming.
He wouldn't run away from a fight if it came to one. That wasn't who he was. If his friends needed him, if anything threatened them, he would be there to help.
But for the first time in a while he felt like maybe the fight wouldn't be coming for him.
He looked around at his apartment. Pictures of him and his mom, Tyson, Annabeth, Paul, Grover and countless others on the TV stand. Familiar paintings on the walls, his mom's manuscript laid on the coffee table.
He looked at Paul coming into the living room with two glasses of blue punch in hand and watched as he handed one to his mom, who smiled at him in silent thanks. Paul winked at her and his gaze dropped to her stomach for just a moment, but for long enough so that Percy could see the wave of emotion in the look. Happiness prevalent among them.
There was Annabeth, who followed just behind Paul, coming to sit on the armrest beside Percy. She passed him his own glass to drink from before resting a hand on his shoulder as she took a sip.
She met his eyes, catching his look, and raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
He smiled softly at her, reaching up to link their fingers together.
He was alright. They were together, everybody was safe, and he was with his family.
This was home.
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