#and that percy actually did not care for being called percy until after his whole family--everyone who called him percy--was murdered | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ma1dita · 9 months ago

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lovers, or partners in crime

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 2.1k

summary: (post-tlt) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, The one where Annabeth and Percy think you're guilty too. You realize his betrayal a little too late, and he's left you looking like an accomplice. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation

(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )

—

Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.

It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames.

Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.

Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.

How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?

Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.

“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”

She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.

“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”

You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.

You always do.

—

“Clarisse stole the master bolt.”

Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.

“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.

He knew.

He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.

When did Luke start making plans without you?

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again.

“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt.

How could you be so stupid?

Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side.

Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.

“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two.

“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.

“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly, “Not enough.”

“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”

Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.

“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”

Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking.

You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.

“I need to do this.”

He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.

“Please,” he mumbles.

Is it a request?

The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.

“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”

Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.

He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.

“You’re my home, Trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.

“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.

“Just a little bit longer.”

Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?

“I have to do this, Trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.”

Despite this.

A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.

“I’ll find you!”

A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough.

But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?

—-

The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.

“Luke’s leaving camp.”

She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.

The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.

Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.

What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.

“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.

Is this what love is… looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers and hurting the people you love.

Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision.

This one was just made without you.

There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.

“Castellan…”

His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.

The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you.

For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.

—

“I wanted to hurt you

but the victory is that I could not stomach it.”

-Richard Siken

next part: love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan angst #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse

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mntalbrakdown · 2 years ago

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pocket size - P. Hynes White

masterlist

mentions of: height? idk let me know if you find any!

synopsis: percy liked that you are shorter than him

a/n: i’m no longer writing for him so plz no hate!!!!

12 inches. a whole foot shorter. you were 5”2 and Percy was 6”2. he liked how he could tower you. he liked the way you would have to look up at him. he especially appreciated when it was sunny outside because you would have to look up and the sun would catch your eyes making you scrunch your face. he also enjoyed how your hands would be wayyyy smaller than his. but out of all these things, his favorite thing about how short you were was putting his head on top of yours and wrapping his hands around your waist.

You and Percy have been dating for a year. you bumped into him in a pharmacy, trying to develop your film. Percy was waiting next to you holding his camera and you with yours.

“you take pictures” he tries to start a conversation with a girl he found attractive

“yeah, just started with this, I have an actual camera,” you say smiling weakly

“I think you should keep using a disposable camera so we could bump into one another more often,” he says trying to secure a date with you

“or you could just ask for my number” a date you wanted

“would Instagram be included in that bundle” he tried to stalk you, he tried to find out who you were as a person

“or maybe on the other hand I actually don’t have a number” you try to joke

“no don’t be like that” he’s a little flustered now

a few days later after that interaction, you were on a date. after that date led to more dates than asking for you to be his officially. it was nice to have someone to call yours and be excited to hang out with whenever possible.

—-

“ready to head out,” Percy says wrapping his hands around your waist as you’re putting on the final touches of your makeup and hair

“yeah, one second,” you say putting on some perfume that Percy got you during his time in Romania. it was vanilla-scented. your favorite

you were ready to go out on your date. the date was a dinner and you wanted to bet Percy that he was going to move your seat next to his to be able to sit next to you.

right, when you were seated across from each other Percy gets up and moves his chair in the middle asking you to do the same and you did. the thing is that you thought that the distance between the two of you was perfect, but in Percy's eyes he thought differently, he scooted your chair so his practically touched. the whole night after was him with his arm around your shoulder or his hand lying on your thigh.

—-

during car rides, Percy likes to put his hand on your lap. squeezing it and making his fingers dance around. when it was summer he liked how you would dangle your head out the window. how your hair would dance in the wind.

he also liked how in the winter you would bundle up and wear his hoodies because they were so warm but you secretly liked the smell of them. he liked that you would wear the hood and sit on the car seat with yours legs held to your chest because you were so cold.

—-

he never cared about the arts really until he met you. he liked being able to take pictures of you in his bed in a small form but never liked actually making the art. he never learned from the lessons that Netflix made him do.

he liked how you would look when putting your head on his bicep. while you would observe the art. he would have you wrapped around his arms. his head on top of yours. you would talk about all the details of the painting and he would listen nodding and humming in amusement.

one thing the two of you had in common was liking films. every Tuesday heading to the closest AMC theatre. you would watch films and analyze them together afterward.

the theatre had reclining seats and you could move the middle cup holder up so the both of you could cuddle together. and that’s what you did.

every film no matters if it was scary or not you would lie on his chest while he wrapped his arms around you. (the same way you both slept) you liked the way his heart would beat speed up when he would look down on you. you could tell because his head would move around. and you could tell his shit-eating grin was on his face once again.

of course, afterward, you would talk about the film going back to your shared place. he would laugh at your theories of the film. he would play your theories in his head on the way to sleep and they would always make sense.

—-

he also liked baking with you. he liked how you would move around a lot and get the batter on your face somehow. he liked that you had your hair back in a messy style and would have an apron on. sleeves rolled up ready to take on whatever you were doing

“perc! I need your help” you yelled and saw him resting his body on the wall that splits your living room from the kitchen

“what do you need my highness” he bows down

“I need you to get me the pink bowl on the top right cabinet” you point to the thing causing your pissed-off state.

you never understood why he never got you a stool. maybe he liked being of help and being able to be in your bubble while you bake. because he never once got in the way of your work.

he never once let you put the pan into the oven because he was scared you would burn yourself. which never happened when you were on your own.

“why can’t I do it,” you ask feeling like all the work he has done

“don’t want you to get burnt,” he says opening the oven and putting in the pan

“there are mittens for a reason, y’know they aren’t decorations”

“but you look so pretty all healthy and smooth,” he says getting the brown batter from your nose and licking his finger clean

he liked cleaning up with you. playing with bubbles and splashing you with water. he grew in love with your face, he grew to be able to read your facial expressions. enough being said he could read how pissed you were but he knew to not mess around anymore.

waiting for the pastry was enjoyable. he liked waiting on the couch with you. you were in between his legs and your head rested on his chest. you would scroll on your phone and Percy would watch. when the pastry was ready you both would always burn yourselves it was like you never learned. and you would both laugh at each other. but it was enjoyable and you both would finish it in a day.

—-

the get-together was at his place. it was strictly just the cast. they slowly started to pile in through the door. he was excited to be reunited with them. he found the friends that he loved. and you were happy for him. as he greeted everyone he was ready to sit down on the couch and you were close behind. he was holding your hand guiding you to your seat.

another thing Percy was extremely mad about was you sitting on his lap. no matter if there was plenty of space everywhere else. he loved sitting with you. he especially did this when you were laying on the couch watching some TikToks and he would make you get up and lay on top of him. it would make you go crazy and not in a good way. but it made him happy so you let it slide.

“so how long have you two dated” hunter asked

“About two years,” Percy says playing with your hair. twisting it and fiddling with it between his two fingers

Emma was trying to get your attention. she thought you were interesting. she liked the way you probably have a lot to say but just keep to yourself. she knew deep down you were funny because well you were dating Percy.

“what’s something that Percy has done here that no one else knows about,” Emma asks looking directly at you. you start laughing at the thought

“no-“ Percy says trying to hold you from saying it

“he…he sings t swift when he’s bored” Percy tried to cover your mouth before you finished the sentence, but it was too late because what you said was out and everyone was laughing

“so- uh- so who wants to play uno” Percy says trying to move the conversation

wanting to get the Uno cards that were under the coffee table. in a red tin box that once contained chocolates, Percy got you for valentines day. once you got it you were walking to his kitchen. all the seats were taken and Percy put you on his lap. he shuffled the cards and something about that no matter who did it, was attractive. Percy however liked the way your hands made the Uno cards look humongous while he made them look tiny.

“Are you both teaming?” Jenna asked

“should we” Percy whispers in your ear sending butterflies straight to your stomach

“Sure,” you say kissing his cheek and everyone started teaming up.

halfway through the game, Percy has half the deck with him.

“I should've never teamed with you” you laugh at just seeing the cards

“I’ll make us win don’t worry” he had his eyes wide like he was determined. and that he was because he always kept his promises to you.

and by the end of the night you both did. he liked the way your eyes would sparkle with joy that only lit up with winning. how you would wrap your hands around him and laugh.

—-

one thing Percy hated was high heels. it was like they were enemies. you never understood it. it wasn’t like you would get whiny about the heels hurting you. in fact it was the opposite. you would run dance jump all of it and all Percy’s face was saying is how much he hated those things giving you height.

he liked that you would have to tip-toe for him but those were easy access they took one of his favorite things about you. and if he could he would destroy them all.

he liked that at the end of the day, you would dress in his clothes to go to bed. it was practically a nightgown for you. he liked how you would clean your face and make sure you felt clean. he liked the way you would be ready to go to bed and not even act like you didn’t want to be by him. because you did you wanted him to wrap his arms around you because it is reassuring and comforting. and wake up in that same form in the morning.

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freddie-77-ao3 · 9 months ago

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TRANS PEOPLE AT CAMP HALF BLOOD BC I'M IN A MOOD™️ RIGHT NOW

NON BINARY:

Connor Stoll (they/them). Connor got to camp at age four, where someone just assumed he was named connor, so they took up the name of a dead boy named connor and decided that yeah, he/him was alright. didn't know what trans meant at the time, they just sort of... anyway, then after the battle of the labyrinth they came out as NB.

wood nymphs. they've got a different gender system than demigods, as well as different pronouns, but to keep it simple for the campers your best bet is they/them.

the resident god Dionysus ofc. he has a complicated relationship with gender (see his chapter in PJ's Greek Gods) but basically, doesn't care what you call him. he/they generally.

MTF:

Drew Tanaka! she's just. always considered herself a girl. there was never any hesitation. her mom called her son and she just. did not compute. her mom was accepting and just sort of called aphrodite up and told her that actually she had given birth to a girl. Aphrodite sent down a new wardrobe in return. she never changed her name.

Clarisse la Rue. she came out when she was twelve. her mom didn't accept her, but clarisse had run away years before that so... her mother never apologized. when clarisse went to her house with chris, it was only because she was truly desperate. after the battle of manhattan clarisse called her once, and. never again.

Lou Ellen Blackstone. she told cecil and will when they were eleven or so (SOM) but didn't really come out to everyone else until one of the hunters pulled her aside in TTC to ask if she wanted to join bc the hunters are super good at finding girls apparently. lou ellen really regrets this but somehow cecil convinced her to make her legal name Louise-Eleanor (first) Wilmadeen (middle) Cecilia (middle) Blackstone. it-- she pretends it's just lou ellen. don't bring it up. Will thinks there was a murder involved and-- well neither of them are telling him otherwise, that's all i'm saying.

FTM: (oh boy here's where I projected a whole bunch)

PERCY MOTHERFUCKING JACKSON. alright folks you ready? so percy came out when he was twelve RIGHT before TLT picks up. struggling mother sally jackson immediately accepts him no questions asked (well there are a few questions but) she gets him onto puberty blockers from a free clinic on forth street right away and changes his name legally. financially they're still struggling, obviously, but sally is picking up some extra shifts. she's already planning on having percy go on T when he turns 16 (if he lives that long--) and after manhattan poseidon and sally sit him down and are like: okay so technically because of ancient laws poseidon can't just snap his fingers but uh if you want a real easy top surgery just do a really easy quest for him and he'll magic your tits away and percy agrees of course so poseidon drops a sand dollar on the ground and in the. most. indifferent voice possible he goes "oh no. my sand dollar. i need a hero." and percy picks it up-- and done. that's when he decides to join the swim team because he doesn't need to bind anymore. also when he heard the prophecy percy immediately went, well i know it says im going to die but hey the universe recognises me as a dude that's pretty cool right. very affirming for him.

NEXT UP we've got michael. height dysphoria kicks ass so seriously don't mention how short he is. anyway michael thought that it was spelt micheal so he chose it for the pun and to feel connected to his dad. uh. don't bring that up to him either. anyway despite being very short, michael's usually pretty stealth. he came out in ttc when he asks jake mason out bc luke used to date his brother lee and michael basically goes "hey do you want to go out i promise i'll be a good boyfriend and not leave you like luke left lee." and jake just bluescreens for a moment because wait, BOYfriend, and anyway after that michael realises he never told anyone. (not necessary to the post but jake said yes) oh, also, his middle name is john. why? who knows. it wasn't significant or anything, clarisse just turned to him one day and said, "you know, you look like a john." so yeah, Michael John Yew. also he liked archery bc it was a lot easier to bind in so.

following that you'll find that actually the three main pjo apollo boys are trans. so WILLIAM ANDREW SOLACE. my baby boy is-- well he's got a lot going on. Will binds (but when he turns 16 he's going to get top surgery and he is. very excited) and don't let his mild mannered doctor self fool you he is a HYPOCRITE when it comes to binding, like that bitch will nag you for hours if you bind for over 8 hours and then you'll see him come off a 48 hour infirmary shift still binding. when he was young and his mother was touring, she left him with his grandparents. He tried to come out at five and cut all of his hair off, but his grandparents kicked him out. Clarisse found him in Texas and brought him to camp. which isn't SATS compliant but I haven't read it yet so *shrug*. Anyway Andrew is after Apollo, when Apollo first met Naomi, he called himself Andrew.

Lee Fletcher is also trans. He was fully transitioned by the time he died. He was super upper class when he came out and his mum stopped speaking to him, but he kept his wealth and became a staunch advocate for trans rights until he died. Anyway he came out when he was seventeen.

Cecil Markowitz. His parents died in a fire when he was 8, he was sent to his grandmother, she kicked him out when he was 9 and came out.

Clovis

Mitchell

Leo Valdez (part of why Rosa called him a demon)

Malcolm Pace (his trans identity deserves a whole 'nother post it's.) anyway Malcolm can't bind so.

Ellis Wakefield (currently writing a fic about this actually) anyway Ellis comes out when he's 13 (so BoM) at camp, and comes out when he's 15 to his mum. it doesn't go great.

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wysteriaisapenguin · 2 years ago

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RR AU Lore - Percy and Harold

When Harold arrived to Sodor with his trusty helicopter that he had been flying for years, he felt quite superior knowing that he stood out amongst everyone else who worked on the railway. Many train drivers looked down on him and his cocky attitude, calling him a “whirlybird” and what not. But he didn’t care what they thought. After all, the railway was “out of date” and his high speed is just what the island needed in case the steam engines were too slow. It wasn’t until a young man with a green saddletank engine came along and changed his mind.

Like his peers, Percy didn’t like Harold at first. Sure, he was different, but he didn’t have to brag about how great he was because of it. Percy was already mocked frequently and he certainly didn’t want this cocky pilot to do just that. He was determined to prove Harold that he and his steam engine were just as fast and useful as his helicopter. The pilot barely knew anything about this young man, but there was something amusing about him. Out of a group of middle-aged men who did nothing but complain all the time, Percy was not only the youngest and most enthusiastic, but also the wittiest. He acted clueless most of the time but he was actually astute enough to outsmart others and perform well with his work. With an attitude like that, it was no wonder that he was able to win other people’s hearts so easily. Harold found it adorable. He thought it would be fun to play along.

A rivalry soon sparked between the two. Percy and Harold would try to outwit each other with both their work ethic and their charms. For work, Percy would usually be the victorious one, proving that his steam engine was efficient enough to handle the mail so that Harold didn’t have to. The pilot began to realize that he was wrong about the railway being outdated, but he wasn’t humiliated in the slightest. As he accepted each defeat, his respect towards Percy grew. But that didn’t mean he would back down. Harold was more successful in making Percy flustered with compliments and flirty remarks. One of his favorite pet names was “little coin purse”. Percy would always end up as a blushing mess, annoyed that he couldn’t come up with a better flirt. Still, it felt good that someone acknowledged him for his efforts and not for his many blunders. Percy’s respect towards Harold grew as well. It eventually takes him a while to warm up to the pilot and realize that he truly meant well. Along with Duck and Thomas, Harold became one of the few people that Percy was able to trust wholeheartedly.

All was well until Percy was assigned to work on more difficult tasks, leaving him stressed and overwhelmed. To add insult to injury, Oliver had taken over his usual mail run as “punishment” for damaging the turntable in Knapford Yards. As a result, Harold began to see less of Percy and worked with Oliver for the time being. He didn’t mind this change of pace until Oliver mentioned something alarming. Apparently, Percy had become quite spiteful, yelling and snapping at everyone who got in his way. This surprised Harold because this wasn’t the cheerful young driver that he knew too well. He was worried that something bad might have happened, so he decided to meet with Percy and find out what was going on.

At the time, Percy didn’t want to talk to anyone. He felt like the whole world was against him and after bottling up his frustrations for so long, he didn’t want to care anymore. When he finally met with Harold, he desperately wanted to scream at him. He wanted to say that there was no way a “self-important egghead” would ever understand what he was going through. But for some reason, he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure why. And when he asked Harold why he didn’t look down on him like everyone else, the pilot simply told him.

“I have no reason to. I already know you’re worth so much more.”

It was at that moment that Percy’s heart began to feel heavy. Despite all his many faults and the inability to please everyone, there was someone who saw him for him. That was all he wanted. Even if Harold had teased him every so often, his respect and affection weren’t a lie. But Percy had been so focused on seeing everyone as an enemy that he was pushing away the people who genuinely cared for him. And that didn’t feel good in the slightest. He knew he had to put an end to this horrible behavior, but he had to figure out how. Harold wasn’t sure if he was able to help, but he meant what he said. He was wrong about the railway and Percy was the one who proved that to him. He wanted the driver to understand that.

Later on, Percy eventually returned to his cheerful self, but he was more attentive and assertive than before. Now that he was fully in charge of the mail train, he was able to express himself with both his expertise and his thoughts. Harold loved seeing that side of Percy. As much as he enjoyed the naïve and childish self, they both knew that was just a façade. It was good to see Percy be so genuine and it was enough for Harold to fall for him. Percy never expected to have the same feelings for the pilot as well. But as long as he knew that he was loved for who he was, he felt like he could achieve anything.

#wysty writes #thomas the tank engine #railroad roundabout au #ttte percy #ttte harold #percy x harold #wysty's headcanons

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void-and-virtue · 7 months ago

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Oh oh oh this is brilliant.

I once wrote a whole entire post comparing Kim Dokja and Neil Josten (main character/narrator of AFTG) because their similarities and differences give me shrimp emotions but I can’t find it on my blog anymore (should I call this lost to the void? I think I’m so funny sometimes).

For now a tidbit I’ll throw out there in as-little-spoilers-as-possible terms that I think you might find interesting is that Neil is an incredibly unreliable narrator with a serial killer for a dad and a mom who did terrible, abusive things to him in the name of protecting him for years until she was eventually killed during that protecting. He loves and hates her at the same time for everything she did for him and her teachings/wishes for how he should survive is something ever-present in the story that he has to move on from in order to move forward and actually live

Kim Dokja and Neil Josten are both martyrs and perpetual liars who can be incredibly cruel/ruthless/efficient in their decision making for who they protect and save vs who they don’t, who view themselves as disconnected from the people around them until those literally force them to acknowledge the friendship that’s evident to everyone else, but who love deeply and loyally to the point of utter self-sacrifice. They are both legally banned from saying the words “I’m fine”.

The most glaring difference is that Neil is doomed-by-the-narrative in the sense that the entire world is out to get him and he’s surviving it on pure spite anyway bc he will take any chance he can get to actually have a life, while Kim Dokja would kick himself into a dumpster the first chance he gets and call that acceptable until his friends threaten to break the whole universe just to forcibly pull him out of it. Dooming himself by his own narrative, if you will. Terrible at writing his own story (thank fuck he doesn’t have to).

ALSO THEY BOTH HAVE THIS ONE (1) THING IN THEIR LIFE THEY ARE OBSESSED WITH AND LITERALLY BASE THEIR WHOLE ENTIRE WILL TO LIVE ON.

The PJO/AFTG angle comes in bc both Percy and Neil share the fate of being perpetually mischaracterized as dumb when they’re actually really smart. For the most part they just don’t care/aren’t perceptive about a few specific things while simultaneously being biased narrators who don’t sing their own praises and would genuinely call themselves a dumbass and think they’re being honest. Also very good at flying by the seat of their pants and somehow turning an impossible situation into their favor with little to no prior plan. There’s more but that’s the most glaring thing I can think of off the top of my head rn

All three of the protagonists have a reputation for perpetually sassing what might as well be gods in their respective universes, are walking dumpster fires with an attitude problem, can be staggeringly cunning and really funny and are just. So lovable it’s impossible not to root for them even when they’re actively being assholes. They’re also all completely ride-or-die for their friends no matter the cost and their friends for them in turn.

EDIT: Ppl who might see this and don’t know what AFTG is: Whatever you’re thinking these books are about after reading that little insight, I promise you it’s misleading. I love these books so much but also yeah welcome to The Sports Anime Mafia Series That Needs Every Trigger Warning In Existence, No I’m Not Kidding. I think the biggest selling point for me when it comes to AFTG/ORV similarity is actually the complexity of interpersonal relationships between the characters and the focus on seeing vs being seen and understanding vs being understood. Both stories go hard when it comes to that.

I feel like there needs to be a venn diagram that’s AFTG, ORV and PJO. I can’t really explain myself right now but I’m sensing it.

#ur addition is making my brainrot #there’s so much here to see #the only trinity I’ll be talking about now #thinking about how Exy is essentially Neil’s TWSA #oh yeah also Neil is canonically demisexual and I read KDJ as aro/ace spec so that’s another similarity #but that one is up to preferred interpretation #pjo #aftg #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #all for the game #percy jackson #kim dokja #neil josten

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words-writ-in-starlight · 3 years ago

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day 5: "betrayal"

When Cassandra de Rolo was fourteen years old, her brother Julius came into her room and shook her awake with blood on his sword. He had killed three guards to reach her room, and he was already hurt, bleeding from a wound in his shoulder where a blade had pierced muscle and bone badly enough that he held his sword in his off hand. He whispered to her to get up, to get out of Castle Whitestone, to run for her life and not look back. He promised that they would meet her in the forest, that he and Vesper were just going to get their brothers and they would be right there to find her.

If someone had asked her, the day before, hours ago at dinner, if she trusted Julius, Cassandra would have said without hesitation that he could put a sword to her throat and she wouldn’t even flinch.

Now, though, she cringed away from the dark hallway, and from Julius, the blood black in the moonlight spilling through her window. She could hear someone shouting, a deep, booming voice that echoed off the stone, but she couldn’t make out the words.

“What’s happening?” Cassandra managed in a shaking voice.

“It’s going to be okay,” Julius said, holding out his empty hand to her. He winced, and his wounded shoulder stopped short at an odd angle, but he tried to smile at her. “There’s fighting in the castle. You need to get out, all right? I’m going to send Ludwig after you, we’re going to be fine.”

Cassandra stared at him, gasping in shallow breaths of air as her head spun. Her hands were cold, and her ears were pounding, and she looked Julius in the eye, reliable Julius who let her and Ludwig build a fort under his desk last year even though they were really too old for it, honest Julius who never lied even when their parents asked him who had let Percival dismantle a firework on their dining hall table.

Julius, Cassandra understood in a hollow kind of way, was lying to her.

Cassandra clenched her fists tight, and nodded.

“All right.”

“Good girl,” Julius said, and his smile trembled a little as she stood up. “Go through the servant’s passages. Don’t let anyone see you. Don’t stop, no matter what you see. If you can’t get out, hide until the noise stops, and then run.” She nodded again, stiffly, standing barefoot in her nightgown, and Julius let out a ragged breath. He caught her around the shoulders with his injured arm and pressed her close to him for a moment, kissed her on the forehead.

And then he left.

Cassandra counted to thirty after Julius left, and then darted down the corridor on bare feet, trusting her knowledge of the castle to carry her through the dark, one hand trailing fingertips across the wall to keep count of doors. One door—washroom—two doors—study—three doors—Vesper’s room—her foot landed in a puddle of something slick and warm and she almost skidded into the wall at the corner, but years of experience with ice and snow kept her upright. Cassandra refused to think about what she had stepped in. Vesper was the best fighter Cassandra knew, their father’s pride and joy. She must have fought someone here, and beaten them. She must have told Julius to get Cassandra up, because she was a better fighter than him, and she could get to the others faster.

Leaning against the wall, Cassandra palmed blindly, fumbling, for the concealed door to the servants stairs. They led straight down to the scullery. The scullery opened onto the back courtyard, where the maids hung out the laundry on every fourth day during the summer. The back courtyard was gated off, but Cassandra could climb the wrought iron fence, the twins had bet her their dessert for a week that she couldn’t climb it faster than they could, two years ago. She had whipped them handily, and their mother had grounded her for risking her neck, but had also made the boys give up Cassandra’s winnings every night. Once Cassandra was outside the castle, she could run for the town and—no, the forest. Julius had told her to run to the forest.

It was the middle of the night, in the height of winter. Cassandra had never been in anything less than disastrous trouble for going into the forest at night, and everyone in Whitestone knew not to play dice with the cold, but—

All she needed to do was get down the stairs, Cassandra told herself. Then she was practically already free.

Her fingers found the latch, and Cassandra pulled open the well-oiled door in a silent rush, ready to run headlong down the stairs to safety.

There was a light, casting shadows on the far wall of the spiral stair. It was probably a dim thing, really, the steady white glow of an arcane source rather than a flicker of flame, but in comparison to the black of the corridor, Cassandra flinched back like she was looking into the sun.

It was that instinct that saved her life. Later, she knew, if she lived long enough to see a later, she would think about that moment where she flinched, instead of running forward as she’d planned, and know that she had been that split second from giving herself away. Instead, she had a heartbeat of time to see the light rise up the stairs, listen to the footsteps coming toward her and the voices calling to each other below, and understand that she wasn’t quite caught, not yet.

Cassandra didn’t latch the door shut, afraid of the noise. Instead, she pushed it back to touch the jamb, and ran for the first door she could reach.

Cassandra wasn’t as smart as Percival. She wasn’t as strong as Vesper. But Cassandra was fast, and she was small, and her siblings hadn’t beaten her in hide-and-seek since she was six years old.

Vesper’s bedroom floor was covered with a soft red rug, a simple pattern of red and brown and blue that Vesper sometimes laid on after training, flat on her back, while Julius called her a lazy sod and she snickered at him. But what mattered now, as Cassandra tried to breathe quietly and think in orderly lines, problem-to-solution, like Percival told her to when she was complaining about her studies, was that the rug was deeply piled, thick fibers that their mother always told them not to walk on in their boots. She said that it was too quick to absorb anything, and it was rude to make the servants clean it every three days just because they were a pack of young ferals who couldn’t take their shoes off.

Cassandra made directly for it, guided by her memory of the room and the dim light spilling through Vesper’s open curtains. There was more slick liquid in Vesper’s doorway, forcing Cassandra to walk through it again, and then something piled on the floor, barely visible as a dark shadow against lighter shadows, and Cassandra, hands shaking, reached out to touch it. Her hands found a shoulder. It was still, and warm.

She needed to run. She needed to run right now, before her luck turned. But—

Cassandra’s hands were grown clumsy with fear, shivering and betraying her as she groped down the shoulder, for the arm, and then the hand. It was wrapped loosely around a sword, wet and glossy in the moonlight, and she tried to find the wrist, tried to find a pulse. Her other hand tracked up the shoulder to the neck, then to the jawline. The hair was long. Cassandra had to—she had to see the face, she had to know—

“Up here,” a voice called in the corridor, and Cassandra’s heart stopped. “This door is cracked. How many of the kids have we accounted for?”

Crouching on the ground, frozen, like a rabbit hearing the dogs closing in, Cassandra clutched at the body that might have been her sister, or might have been a stranger, and strained to make out the answer. She couldn’t, not quite. She thought there had only been one syllable called back up the stairs. Not all of them, then, no matter what number it was—it couldn’t be all of them because, she realized with a cold jolt, they hadn’t found her yet.

Forcing herself to stand, to leave the unknown body on the floor, was even harder than standing up had been, when Julius had come into her room. But she did it, and ran forward as quietly as she could manage, onto the familiar softness of Vesper’s rug. She scrubbed the soles of her feet against it, for as long as she dared, and then dashed forward for Vesper’s window seat.

Vesper’s window seat had been a gift for her twentieth birthday, a coming-of-age present from their mother. It was a long, solid bench with a cushioned seat and an engraving of the sun from the de Rolo crest, framed by a pair of swords. It was also hollow. Vesper, who had been using her wardrobe to store her armor and weapons despite pleas to consider their effect on the linens, had laughed, and filled it with sheets, blankets, and out-of-season clothing. The weapons were still in the wardrobe, but they did less damage now that they had more space.

Cassandra heaved the lid open as carefully as she could, quietly, and rolled herself inside. She lowered the lid down over her, nearly silently, and, in the dark, she began wriggling beneath layers of cloth. It was midwinter—this was not ideal, Cassandra noted with a kind of hysterical clarity, because it meant that most of Vesper’s thick blankets and coats were in use, and she was left with lighter summer wear to cover herself with. But she dug down through the clothes, deeper into the dark, until her hands hit the wood. Then she twisted herself around, so that she was on her side, pressed up against one edge of the window seat and buried under her sister’s clothes, and pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her breathing, and waited.

Cassandra waited as the voice left the stairwell and split up across the corridor.

She waited as heavy footfalls, not even bothering with stealth anymore, marched into Vesper’s room.

She waited as Vesper’s room was searched.

She waited, holding her breath and trying not to shake so much that she would be seen, as the window seat was opened, inspected, and declared nothing but old clothes.

And then, as the footsteps moved back toward the door, Cassandra heard the invader speak again. And now, closer, she thought she recognized the voice. It was—

Cassandra closed her eyes, hand still pressed over her mouth, as Captain Stonefell called out to his guards.

“Nothing here. Except this—” a thud, as if kicking something heavy, and a metal skittering “—room’s empty. You, go round up the rest of the boys and tell them we’re searching the castle. Sweep from this floor down. She’s a little slip of a thing, can’t have gotten far.”

“Yes, sir,” a handful of voices called back.

Another voice asked, “Does the Lady have any instructions for her? Or the doctor?”

“The doc thinks she can get everything she needs out of Percival,” Stonefell said. “And Lady Briarwood says that anyone Ripley doesn’t need dies. Once it’s done, put her with the others. Get a move on!”

A sob was building in Cassandra’s chest, or maybe a scream, an inarticulate howl of grief and terror. Put her with the others. Did that mean—was it possible that only she and Percival were left? But Julius couldn’t have left more than five minutes ago, and he had said that Vesper was getting the others. It couldn’t have happened that quickly, a young, desperate part of her whispered. They were her family. They were her family, they were supposed to be there always, they were the de Rolos and they were supposed to live as long as Whitestone did.

Cassandra choked down the child’s wail. She couldn’t let the Briarwoods’ people—their guests, people they thought were their friends—find her. She had to—

She had to wait, like Julius had said. She couldn’t get out while they were searching the castle, but, she realized, inspiration striking, she might be able to wait them out. If she could wait long enough for them to believe she’d made it out of the castle unseen, they would start to sweep the forest instead. That would get most of the people out of the castle—the forest was massive, the snow making it hard to search efficiently with anything but magic, and surely, if they could use magic to find her, they would have done it already. And then, hopefully, she could make her escape.

And—Percival. Percy, that nickname he always hated, that they all used when they wanted to get under his skin. Her most annoying brother, who was a pretentious prick when he wanted to be, who was so sure that he was the smartest person in any room half the time, who was always trying to get her to care about things like math, and gadgets, and science.

Who let her sit on the floor of his workshop when she was bored of learning about diplomacy and negotiations, and made her little wire figurines out of his scraps.

Ripley, the doctor the Briarwoods had brought with them—she had him. She wanted something from him, wanted something from the de Rolos besides their home, their fear, and their lives. Maybe something about one of Percival’s inventions, or something that any of them might have answered, but—a horrifying thought—Percival was the oldest de Rolo left.

It didn’t matter what they wanted, Cassandra decided, after what felt like hours turning the possibilities over in the dark. Percival was her brother. The Briarwoods could choke on the de Rolo defiance before she let them keep her brother.

Cassandra waited, listening to the search, peering out through the cracked lid of the window seat when she felt sure of the silence. She didn’t think she slept, but time passed strangely, in long syrupy dollops of fear and heart-pounding boredom. There was chill winter light, the muted white brilliance of an overcast day, pouring through the windows by the time Cassandra had finally stopped hearing the footsteps of guards searching the upper floors.

When peeking out revealed no noise or sight of another presence, she counted to five hundred before she dared to struggle out of her hiding place. Her legs were numb and her back ached and she was clumsy with the adrenaline of the night, and the lid of the window seat crashed out of her grip when she tried to close it. The sound was deafening in the mausoleum silence of the castle.

Cassandra stopped breathing.

No one came.

All right. That was good, Cassandra tried to tell herself as she crept toward Vesper’s door. The soft red carpet was still bloodstained from her feet, but in broad tacky smears that looked nothing like footprints. There was the puddle of blood she had stepped in beside the door. The body was gone, along with its sword. Cassandra tried not to look too long at the place where it had lain.

Cassandra stopped on her way to the door, and turned to Vesper’s wardrobe. Vesper’s wardrobe, full of weapons, the doors still flung carelessly open by the searching guards. One of Vesper’s swords, her favorite, was missing—probably she had taken it. There were two other swords, a handful of knives of various styles, a bow and a number of arrows, and Vesper’s deep blue winter coat.

Cassandra took a dagger, and the coat.

Cassandra tried to visualize the castle in her mind, every nook or cranny that she and her siblings had ever crept into. Where would she go if she was an invading murderer hoping to interrogate a teenager? It was a ridiculous question.

Maybe it was the wrong question, Cassandra thought as she slipped into the hall, taking careful steps to keep her bare feet out of the dried blood, now that she could see to avoid it. Maybe she shouldn’t be wondering where they were interrogating Percival. She couldn’t get him away from Ripley even if she found them—she was one girl, armed with a knife she wasn’t sure she could use and armored with her older sister’s overlarge coat. Besides, they could be interrogating him anywhere in the castle, and eliminating rooms one at a time sounded like a long and exhausting way to commit suicide, after she had gone to so much trouble to live.

But, if they were hoping to interrogate Percival, they would have to keep him somewhere.

And the castle did have a dungeon.

#whumptober 2021 #no.5 #betrayal #critical role #vox machina #cassandra de rolo #fic #violence #i am actually going to hunt through the rest of the prompts and find an appropriate one for the rest of this #because i have a Hunger to write this all the way through to the end of cassandra's worst day ever #there's a stabbing prompt? is that too much of a stretch for 'shot full of arrows'?#but i figured i'd stop here because it's already pushing 3k so y'know #here #UGH i love the de rolos what a nightmare #this includes several of my inane headcanons!#including that julius was a very good eldest son (trustworthy loyal honorable all that shit)#and that vesper was a fighter who liked Weapons and also her siblings #and that percy actually did not care for being called percy until after his whole family--everyone who called him percy--was murdered #starlight writes stuff

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fearlessinger · 2 years ago

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Who wants to hear a conspiracy theory?

You guys know Rick’s favorite unexplained plot device aka the fact that demigods just constantly stumble upon useful info in their dreams, learning stuff that’s specifically pertinent to whatever they need to do, getting premonitions of their own and others’ future? To the point that this is unofficially considered a standard demigod superpower despite the fact that the notion contradicts the established lore, according to which children can only inherit powers related to their godly parents’ domains?

Well, we were talking about it on discord the other day and @tsarinatorment jokingly declared she was just going to blame it on Apollo because at least that would make more sense. We had a laugh and that was that.

But then I kept thinking. It DOES make more sense. It just does make more sense that the god of knowledge, prophecy and protector of the youth himself, Apollo, who we all know deep down always cared more than he let on, who would therefore have been both able and willing, would give this gift to the children of the gods after the passing of the Ancient Laws made it impossible for the Olympians to intervene in other, more direct ways, to help and guide the kids in the most unobtrusive, hard-to-prove-and-easy-to-deny way possible.

And the kicker is… there is textual evidence of this. Like, a ton of it.

No really. Listen. Listen.

Why do the demigods on Kronos's side not possess this ability? Those guys need spies to know what's going on at CHB, while our heroes spend practically all their sleeping hours snooping around Kronos HQ. This is especially strange when one considers that gods like Morpheus and Hecate – and presumably a whole lot if not all of their children – are on Kronos’ side. Shouldn’t it be even easier for them to go dream snooping than it is for our protagonists? Come to think of it, why does Morpheus not bar enemy demigods from accessing the dreamscape altogether?

None of this makes a lick of sense in a scenario where Plot Convenient Dreaming is a standard power that all demigods possess naturally.

But it makes perfect sense if there’s a higher power involved, like, say… the power of an Olympian god. It makes perfect sense if it’s actually Apollo who grants those visions to our protagonists – and not to the demigods who have defected, overriding whatever sort of barrier Morpheus and the likes might try to put up.

Yes, that one time Kronos catches Percy dream-snooping he seems to believe that Percy's doing that entirely on his own power... But what does Kronos know? He's been in literal pieces for thousands upon thousands of years. When he was last whole, none of the second generation Olympians, including Apollo, had even been born yet. And Percy keeps conveniently dreaming completely undisturbed well after Morpheus gets recruited to the Lord of the Titans’ cause. Is it plausible to think that Percy alone could have more power over dreams than the actual god of dreams? Come on. No, it’s obvious that Percy’s got help.

Especially because it’s not just Percy. It’s not even just demigods. Zoe Nightshade, daughter of the titan Atlas but loyal only and forever to Artemis, gets some Convenient Dreams™ of her own:

"Whoa. What do you mean? Zoe had a dream like that?"

"I… I don't know, exactly. About three in the morning she came to the Big House and demanded to talk to Chiron. She looked really panicked."

[...]

"What did she say?" I asked.

Grover grimaced. "Well, she starts talking really old-fashioned when she gets upset, so it was kind of hard to understand. But something about Artemis being in trouble and needing the Hunters. And then she called Argus a boil-brained lout… I think that's a bad thing. And then he called her—"

"Whoa, wait. How could Artemis be in trouble?"

[...]

"Well, Zoe said she needed permission to leave camp immediately. Chiron refused. He reminded Zoe that the Hunters were supposed to stay here until they received orders from Artemis. And she said…" Grover gulped. "She said 'How are we to get orders from Artemis if Artemis is lost?'"

"What do you mean lost? Like she needs directions?"

"No. I think she meant gone. Taken. Kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" I tried to get my mind around that idea. "How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?"

[...]

"I don't know," Grover said. "I think somebody would know if Kronos had re-formed. The gods would be more nervous. But still, it's weird, you having a nightmare the same night as Zoe. It's almost like—"

"They're connected," I said.

It’s almost like all these convenient dreams are connected, says Grover, and he probably just means it in the sense that they might all be about the same thing, but still… the text itself is suggesting – not even subtly – that all these convenient dreams might have the same origin, that they might come from the same source.

Later, Percy mentions his strangely informative dreams to Zoe:

Without thinking about it, I took Riptide out of my pocket. Zoe looked at the pen, and her expression was pained.

"You made this," I said.

"Who told thee?"

"I had a dream about it."

She studied me. I was sure she was going to call me crazy, but she just sighed. "It was a gift. And a mistake."

Zoe is not surprised. Of course, because she also got one of these dreams. And maybe… well, maybe because she didn’t only get the one. Maybe Convenient Dreams ™ are a common occurrence for her and the Hunters too.

Isn’t it interesting that Zoe never even thought of questioning her own dream of Artemis being held captive? Everything she’s said and done since her introduction has established that she’s very reluctant to trust, but for some reason she trusts her dreams completely.

Could it be that she actually knows who’s the one sending them to her, to alert her that Artemis is in danger, to urge her to go looking for her patroness?

Also of interest: Aphrodite, the only Olympian to whom Percy ever makes mention of the dreams, has no idea what he's talking about.

"Annabeth is in trouble."

Aphrodite beamed. "Exactly!"

"I have to help her," I said. "I've been having these dreams."

"Ah, you even dream about her! That's so cute!"

"No! I mean… that's not what I meant."

She made a tsk-tsk sound. "Percy, I'm on your side. I'm the reason you're here, after all."

It doesn’t seem to even occur to her that Percy has been having some sort of actual prophetic visions. But if this were a standard demigod ability, wouldn't she – shouldn’t she – know about it?

Now hold on a sec Fsinger, you guys may want to tell me at this point, shouldn’t she also know about this if Apollo’s the one responsible for it?

Well the answer is no, of course. Apollo wouldn’t tell anybody (except maybe Artemis but even that is a big maybe) that he’s doing this, because this is technically illegal. This is illegal divine intervention right here. The laws are clear: no interference. And yes, lots of gods often try to sneak around the laws, but none of them trusts the other gods to not tell on them when they do. As Apollo himself helpfully summarizes:

I’d never had a brother defend me in front of Father. My Olympian brethren were more likely to deflect Zeus’s fury by yelling Apollo did it!

So yeah. Of course nobody else would know.

I lied though. Sort of. There is one other god beside Aphrodite with whom Percy talks about the dreams, but it’s not Percy to bring up the topic in this instance; the god is. Guess who?

As I watched the sun go down, I thought of Annabeth. I was afraid to go to sleep. I was worried what I might dream.

"Oh, don't be afraid of dreams," a voice said right next to me.

I looked over. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to find the homeless guy from the rail yard sitting in the shotgun seat. His jeans were so worn out they were almost white. His coat was ripped, with stuffing coming out. He looked kind of like a teddy bear that had been run over by a truck.

"If it weren't for dreams," he said, "I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids." He cleared his throat, then held up his hands dramatically:

"Dreams like a podcast, Downloading truth in my ears. They tell me cool stuff"

“Apollo?" I guessed, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad.

He put his finger to his lips. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred."

"A god named Fred?"

"Eh, well… Zeus insists on certain rules. Hands off, when there's a human quest. Even when something really major is wrong. But nobody messes with my baby sister. Nobody."

Percy and Apollo have a little chat about the quest. Percy asks where Artemis and Annabeth are. Apollo replies that he doesn’t know: they are “clouded from [him]”. This fits with the idea that Apollo has been sharing with Percy, through Percy’s dreams, all that he personally can see. He knows that his twin and Annabeth have been captured, he doesn’t know where they are held. Percy notes that he is visibly frustrated by this; Apollo’s not used to being unable to see or know things.

Apollo advises Percy to seek out Nereus, for “he has the gift of knowledge sometimes kept obscure from my Oracle."

Their exchange ends with Apollo literally putting Percy to sleep.

Apollo checked his watch. "Ah, look at the time! I have to run. I doubt I can risk helping you again, Percy, but remember what I said! Get some sleep! And when you return, I expect a good haiku about your journey!"

I wanted to protest that I wasn't tired and I'd never made up a haiku in my life, but Apollo snapped his fingers, and the next thing I knew I was closing my eyes.

In my dream, I was somebody else.

In his dream, Percy will once again acquire knowledge that will reveal itself crucial to the success of his quest.

Y’all convinced yet?

Now let me take you back to the very first book in the saga to look at this conversation between Percy, Grover and Chiron with the insight we just gained:

"You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done ... with what?"

"Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?"

I glanced at Grover, who was crossing his fingers.

"Um, sir," I said, "you haven't told me what it is yet."

Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together.

"Poseidon and Zeus," I said. "They're fighting over something valuable ... something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron and Grover exchanged looks. Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

My face felt hot. I wished I hadn't opened my big mouth. "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And ... I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover said.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard.

Doesn’t this read like Grover and Chiron going "oh look, Apollo's confirmed it for us: the quest is the way to go here." Chiron specifically seems to definitively make up his mind that he can send Percy to the Oracle precisely because Percy’s been dreaming about it.

It’s worth noting, too, that while we are never told on whose side of the Zeus-Poseidon dispute the rest of the Olympians fell, we do know that the Apollo cabin had taken Percy’s – and by extension Poseidon’s – side, and considering that Apollo keeps regular contact with his children (specifically through dreams, we are told by Will), it doesn’t seem much of a stretch to imagine Apollo himself would have been sympathizing with Poseidon and inclined to help his son.

And now let’s fast forward to the end of this saga, to Apollo’s very own pentalogy, to ask the million dollar question. If these convenient dream visions are indeed a standard demigod superpower, why is Apollo having them? Even more importantly, why is he the only one having them? Why do none of the demigods who accompany him on his journey – and there’s so many of them! – dream convenient dreams too?

There’s really just one single exception to this: Meg dreaming about Hercules the saguaro hiding the seeds that will give birth to the Meliai. This I would argue is very likely Demeter’s doing, but can also easily be attributed to the fact that Meg and Apollo are magically linked, to the point that they are able to share thoughts and memories when they wish for it hard enough. Which they do, coincidentally, right before Meg has her dream.

And so here’s the answer: Apollo is the only one to have the dreams/visions/premonitions because this is his power. It has been his power all along.

In his weakened state, he can’t share it with anyone but Meg, and he can’t even really do so intentionally, it just happens once, maybe twice at most, by accident. He can’t even really control the visions anymore, something he, in fact, often complains about.

But Fsinger, you may ask me now, if Apollo really was the one behind these incredibly useful dreams that the demigods were having, why would he not tell us? Why does he never at any point of the 5 books series that he personally narrates admit to having done this? Especially considering how much he loves to pat himself on the back and sing his own praises. Heck, he insists that he’s taught Percy to fight and we know that’s blatantly false. If he could brag about something that’s actually true, would he not do it?

Of course not. That’s the thing. That is exactly the thing. As long as he has a choice in the matter, Apollo only ever takes credit for good deeds that he’s sure we either know or will assume must not be true. If it had been up to him he’d never even have confirmed to have actually defeated Python the first time. The founding of CHB? Teaching Chiron everything he knows? Offering the satyrs a home and the job of seekers and protectors of the children of the gods? All these are things that Apollo is canonically confirmed to have done, we have reliable testimony of it, and yet just listening to him… you’d never know.

But here’s the twist. None of the above considerations even matter in the end, because Apollo DOES in fact admit to sending helpful dreams to those in need:

I needed my powers – strength to bend bars or break through walls, fire to melt Gunther’s face the next time he brought us crustless sandwiches. I did not need a nap. And yet … Lu wasn’t wrong. Dreams could be vehicles.

As the god of prophecy, I’d often sent visions to those who needed them – warnings, glimpses of the future, suggestions for what sort of temple incense I liked best. I’d driven dreams right into people’s heads. But, since I’d been mortal, I’d lost that confidence. I had let my dreams drive me, rather than taking the reins like when I drove the sun chariot. My team of fiery horses could always feel when their driver was weak or uncertain. (Poor Phaethon had found that out the hard way.) Dreams were no less ornery.

There it is.

As the god of prophecy, I’d often sent visions to those who needed them.

He says that so offhandedly it almost doesn’t register, but there it is. Straight up confirmation from Apollo’s own mouth. The fact that it’s said in such a low key, completely not ostentatious manner is as close to proof that it is true as you can actually get with Apollo.

I’m sure I have persuaded you guys at this point – the evidence kinda speaks for itself. But I know the most contrarian of you won’t resist raising me one last objection: why, oh why if Apollo knew all the things the demigods learn in dreams about the enemies of Olympus, about the threat they posed and the plans they were enacting, did he not speak out? Why did he not warn his fellow gods? Why did he not argue that the Olympians should take action, like his twin sister did?

To which I say: have you noticed how the gods tend to react to not just unfavorable prophecies but even simply friendly warnings?

Apollo lost his previous Oracle to a curse just because the girl tried to warn the Lord of the Dead that his children were in danger. Apollo himself was sentenced to mortality because, in his father’s words, he’d “revealed a prophecy prematurely”. Because Zeus believes that simply the act of appointing a new Oracle on Apollo’s part “hastened the war”. Artemis states outright that Zeus does not listen to Apollo like he does to her (she can charm her way out of a punishment; Apollo can’t), and the entire reason why the demigods were in a race against time in TTC to find the goddess before the solstice was that she alone stood a chance of pushing the Olympian Council to take action.

The gods, and especially Zeus, do not take well to being told what to do, especially if the other person is right, and especially if the other person is Apollo.

But once again, the twist is: Apollo did, in fact, try.

I tossed up my hands. “I wasn’t the one who opened the Doors of Death and let Python out! Blame Gaea! Blame Zeus for his bad judgment! When the giants started to wake, I drew up a very clear Twenty-Point Plan of Action to Protect Apollo and Also You Other Gods, but he didn’t even read it!”

What else is there to say?

I rest my case.

#rrverse #trials of apollo #toa #toa meta #well not exactly but

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poppy-metal · 4 years ago

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so uh,,,,this ended up being alot softer then i was expecting LMAO.

Bully!eren x reader

Cw: not alot, some smut at the end. Tame for me but i was in my FEELINGS okay.

Word count: 2.3k

The familiar sleek black of erens benz pulls up to the side of your house as you walk home from a late night trip to the grocery store, pints of ben & jerrys ice cream in the bags, as well as several other snack items one might munch on to cram for an exam, which is what you planned on doing.

You side step more onto the sidewalk when he pulls up beside you, still driving just slow enough to match your pace. He rolls down the window, jerking his head, “Just the girl i wanted to see,” he drawls hooking his arm out his window to lean out a little, he grins, “its fate”

You scrunch your nose up and scoff “Stalking is another word for it, jaeger”. You look him over suspiciously, “you wanted to see me?”

He rolls his eyes. He’s wearing aviator sunglasses, pushed up his forehead. Loitering in front of your house like this, you’re aware of how different the worlds you live in are. Everything about eren is expensive, from his car to his sunglasses to his clothes, even the way he smells, the cologne he wears, all tells how important he is. Meanwhile here you are in your oversized hoodie and leggings, hands full of stuff you’d bought from the convenience store, prepared to spend your night busting your ass to even stay in the college you had to claw your way to get into, wherein he had gotten in without even trying. You’re not self conscious, at least not usually. You’d never yearned to be apart of erens world too terribly, and it was eren who always sought you out, not the other way around, when there was plenty of rich girls right up his alley and status that would be glad to be with him and yet here he was at 11pm at night. You try to push down the way your heart flutters at that fact.

“Uh huh. Get in the car, bambi, m’taking you somewhere” his teeth are a flash of white against the night, promising trouble, as always. Your grip on your bags tightens, as does your heart in your chest. You glance away, “i have to study”

“Study?”

Your brows pinch together and you hold up your bags “Not that you’d care, jaeger, but some of us have to actually study to achieve our goals. I can't entertain you tonight, im busy”

Eren doesn’t look put out in the slightest, glancing down at your bags with casual disinterest“You dont need to study”. And then he looks up at you and meets your eyes, your breath catching, they look closer to the shade of seaglass today. “You’re smarter than anyone i know, ___, and i know alot of people. Whatever you want to pass? You’re already there. Just come with me, please”

Your eyes widen and your heart spasms in your chest, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice. He has moments like this, where he usually teases you and gets under your skin but sometimes he says something that makes everything in you jolt. Its not fair. Its confusing and it messes with your head, makes it fuzzy, weakens you and makes you do things you’d never do with a clear mind.

You wish you could fight it, wish you could roll your eyes and tell him no and do what you need to do. But you don’t. Huffing you say, “Ugh, fine. Just let me put this stuff up, my ice creams probably already a puddle by now” you turn and rush up to your house, ears burning when you hear him call out, “Thatta girl!”

You try not to put everything away to hastily, thinking he ought to squirm just a little, but even you can’t deny the eager buzzing under your skin. When you clamber into the passenger seat of his car eren turns to grin at you as he flicks his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Knew you’d see reason, bambi”. You roll your eyes at the nickname, crossing your arms over your chest as you side eye him warily, “where are you taking me jaeger, is this a kidnapping?”

“Not a kidnapping when you want it, sweetheart”, eren says, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he backs up his car to make a uturn. You dont know if the flustered leap in your chest is from the petname or the way his forearm looks flexing, the cords in his neck prominent as he looks behind him for any oncoming cars. “Just trust me, yeah? You’ll like it”

You sink in the seat, trying to get away from the warm heat of his arm so close to you, but hes taking it away soon enough, only to draw your attention again to the way his hands look steering the wheel. His hands….You turn to look out the window, opting for silence, because you feel like you’re about to lose your mind. This car is just so..him and its overwhelming your senses. It smells good, it smells like him, his cologne wafting all around you. The sleek interior of his car is crisp, clean, sharp, and just so richboy it feels surreal. You haven’t been in his car before.

Eren seems okay with the silence though, tapping his finger idly against the wheel as soft music plays from the radio. Its strangely peaceful, actually. Before you know it, the whirring of houses and neighborhoods and highway turns into palm trees and sand. You sit up straighter, coming out of your daze when you realize eren is pulling his car into the sandy bank by a large body of water. The beach. You haven’t had a chance to go here.

The water looks like black at this time of night, there are no waves, just sparkling dark abyss that stretches out for ages and ages, glittering under the moonlight. There are no other cars parked close to you so its just you, eren, and the sea.

You spend quite awhile gawking at the ocean before you come to your senses and turn to face eren. He has his elbow propped on the wheel, chewing idly on his thumb as he peers at you from over his sunglasses. A small smile is playing at his lips as he watches you.

You gape, “What…”

“You’re cute when you’re excited, you know” his voice is low, dropped in that way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You ignore the way your heart skips at his words, probing him, “Why did you bring me here, ren?”

He turns to face forward, flipping the radio off so theres no background noise between the two of you. Taking his sunglasses off the folds them and puts them on the dash, sighing as he watches the ocean from out the windshield, gnawing on his lips. Tap, tap, tap, his fingers on the wheel go as you wait for him to speak. “Last week,” he starts, glancing at you, “When we had to do those presentations in class about places we feel at home..you talked about the library”

He laughs under his breath like its some kind of endearing joke, shaking his head a little. You dont speak. “The library is where i first saw you, you know? I mean, before all this, before i..talked to you, i noticed you before you ever noticed me.” A small secret smile plays on his lips, “You were reading ‘percy jackson and the lightning thief’, and you haid your hair in pigtails. Your glasses were way to big your face. My first thought was ‘wow she looks like an owl’, but then i saw you laugh at something on the page and my second thought was ‘i want to know her’. We were in middle school.”

Green eyes connect with yours, “You still go there, i know. But anyway..this is. My place, i guess”. He purses his lips “i figure since i'm always intruding on your little sanctuary , i’d let you see mine”

You take everything he just said in. He’d known about you, noticed you, since middle school? You hadn’t acknowledged him until sophomore year of highschool, hadn’t spoken to him since senior year, when this tug and pull had first begun between you two. You remembered that day, your mother wouldn't buy you the series so you’d relied on constantly re-reading the books at the library. It was around that time you began to see that place as something special, too. Tucked away from the world, you could lose yourself in another's story. It was like magic. And to realize eren had been there the whole time, had glimpsed that, realized that the library was your special place, that he’d even payed attention to your presentation in class at all in the first place...that he was here, showing you something of himself in return, even though you’d never asked. You’d wondered of course.

Eren was an enigma, he was on most days, the bane of your existence. He had made your life a living hell on many occasions, but with that, he also made you feel more alive than ever before. He’d dragged you out of your bubble and challenged you to see the world beyond school and books and fiction, he raised your emotions and forced you to experience everything head on. Anger, confusion, happiness, anxiety, thrill, lust and…

You look at him. The way the moonlight curls into the car like a kind of mist, making his eyes look absolutely beautiful. The soft wave to his brown hair, his eyelashes, everything about him made you ache with desire. All the time, even when you swore you hated him, you wanted him.

“Kiss me”. Its whispered out so low, for a moment you worry he might not hear it. Its the first time you’ve asked for him, reached for him first without his taunting to guide a confession from you. With this request, filling the air between you, you’re making it known that you want him, want this. It doesn’t change anything and yet it somehow changes everything. You can’t look in the mirror and tell yourself he doesn’t occupy your mind and your heart anymore. Not after this.

Eren seems to realize this too, his intake of breath letting you know he heard you loud and clear. “__..” he says, inching closer. His eyes, dark now, are so very hungry as he closes in. In a moment his lips, soft, so soft, are on yours. You sigh into his kiss, opening for him easily when his tongue glides into your mouth. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, tenderly, thumb stroking it. God, you want to eat him, you want him to eat you. The wet smack of your lips fills the car as you hungrily nip, and suck, and kiss at each others lips.

When eren pulls back, he’s panting, hair disheveled. You don’t remember when your hands first sunk into his hair, but they must have, messed up as it is now. He looks at you like he wants to devour you, he licks his lips. “I’m gonna put your seat back,” he tells you slowly, each word dripping with finality, “im going to kiss every inch of your body and then you’re opening those legs for me and letting me inside, baby”

You don’t have it in you to act scandalised, you know what you want. You’d basically asked for it. You just nod, never taking your eyes off his face when he reaches down and pulls the lever. And then you feel yourself being tilted backwards as the seat goes back, laying you flat. Your chest heaves with barely contained need as eren then settles above you, every clothed inch of him hovering just barely above you.

Holding your eyes, eren lowers himself. You spread your legs easily to accommodate him, gasping when you feel his clothed cock settle right against your clit through your leggings. He rocks once, gently, against you, his hair hanging over his forehead as he looks down at you with utter want in his eyes, “Want you to feel me”, he murmurs, and rocks again, “Wanna fill you up so good, you can’t ever pretend that im not apart of you. Because, this, baby?” Another rock, a shuddered moan leaving your lips, “This is it. No ones gonna fuck you like i do, no ones gonna get inside that little head and play the games we play so well together.”

One of his hands trails up your thigh, dipping his hand under the fabric of your leggings and pulling them slightly down, he pecks your lips, once, twice, three times. “Tell me”, he groans into your mouth, peeling your clothes off you slowly, “Tell me you understand, Tell me this is everything”

And you tell him. Tell him through your whimpers when he parts the folds of your slick cunt with his fingers buried inside you. Tell him through your moans into his mouth when he shoves his jeans down and splits you open on his cock. Tell him through sighs of his name, when he rocks into you, licking into your mouth as he spears you open. Tell him through the way you claw your fingers down his back when starts to fuck you hard, rocking the car with the force of his thrusts. Tell him through the way you spread your legs, even wider, toes curling as he wrings orgasm after orgasm out of your tight little pussy milking him.

“Its everything, you’re everything…” You cry out again and again, clutching onto him as he pumps you full of his cum, groaning brokenly into your neck.

“Fuck”. He pulls back to look down at you, brushing your damp hair back from your face, still inside you. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you little nerd”

#eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #bully!eren #aot smut

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via-rant · 1 year ago

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OKAY! So, I'm confused if this is a Mortal AU or not cause in the beginning Nico and Hazel were living with they're dad which means he's mortal, but then the whole Artemis thing and Hazel knows Sammy somehow??? She was two when Batman adopted them! Maybe he like... took care of her sometimes with Nico, and he's one of Leo's many cousins! Wait, I like that! He's like 6-7 years older than him!

But what about they're dad? And does Bianca exist? God so many questions!!!

I can imagine Annabeth meeting Peter and being all excited cause he's Lukes cousin but Percy is so suspicious of him because he's Lukes cousin. "You hurt her and you're dead." And Annabeth wanting to create a relationship like the one she and Luke had!

Oh man! Leo seeing Tony as a father figure in his life but he's also really skeptical and scared he might end up like the other homes. Sure he lives in luxury now and with his idol but it's still a huge possibility. Actually it's probably a bigger possibility. And not only will authorities not believe him, neither will other kids. Tony Stark is loved mostly everywhere, he wouldn't hurt a kid. But he hasn't hurt him yet. Not like that anyway. He kind of ignores him. Barely answering his questions and has his assistant take care of him really. At first anyway. Tony slowly starts opening up to the kid, putting down his work and listening to him and answering any questions he has, and hanging out with him.

He gets so much better at it but Leo's getting more scared. He has to break at some point right? But he doesn't. One day, he tells the AI thing (I forgot it's name) he's going to a friends house. He runs away and he feels free. Feels free from the clutches of anxiety that built up throughout these past few months and has gone to somewhere he's used to.

Tony freaks out when he sees him gone after he comes home. The AI tells him he went to a friends and Tony remembers hearing him say how he hasn't made any friends one time. "He could have made a friend, but he also said he'd introduce me to them if he did. Maybe he's picking him up? Without a car Stark?! Why would he do that?! Cause he gets carsick! That's right! But he's run away before and he didn't say the kids name did he?" He searches for him for weeks in a panic until he comes back at the front door. He starts ranting about how sorry he is but Tonys so relieved he just hugs him. "Don't scare me like that again."

"Why do you care so much?!" Leo cries. "Why aren't you yelling at me?! Or hitting me?! Isn't what I did bad?!"

"I'm just glad you're alive. You don't deserve to be punished like that. You're a kid. You're such a sweet kid, and anyone who says otherwise is wrong." Leo cried and they spent the rest of the night just watching a movie afterward. (It was the first time Leo called him dad. He didn't cry.)

Wow! That was long! I legit have no ideas for the Wonder Woman thing, I really don't.

PJO superhero AU ideas

Nico and Hazel get adopted into the batfam

Spiderman's 'aunt may' is May Castellan, so Luke and Peter grew up together

Leo become's Tony's apprentice

Wonderwoman teams up with the actual Artemis and her hunters

Edit: I really only like the first two, but the other two could be cool ig

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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

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I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

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saphirered · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there, I love your blog! Your writing is so good and feels so in line with the characters, if your request are still open I was wondering if you can do general hcs for vax? Nothing in particular just romantic dates or hanging around the keep or in battle etc. Bonus points for how the rest of vox machina treats vax x reader :) lots of love 💜

I hope this one’s to your liking 😘

Your first date was less of a date and more of a mission that turned into a date. Vox Machina had been employed to shadow some noble possibly involved with some kind of possibly dangerous cult. You had to blend into high society and couldn’t simply rely on the shadows Vax felt most comfortable around. Even though he may have been raised among respectable society in Syngorn, high society like the one you had to blend into was more your specialty. You were their ticket to the circles they needed to meddle with. Dressed to the nines you were quite the sight to behold managing to take the poor man’s breath away, among others. Vax made it a point to entwine his arm with yours whenever he had the chance and stick to your side for the whole event. After you proved the noble you were sent to watch innocent you stayed to enjoy the part. Such an invitation shouldn’t go to waste after all… At least that’s what Vax claimed. You’re pretty sure he appreciated the time away from the others.

More lowkey invitations found their way to you from Vax. An invitation to take you on a walk around town, some fun out in a less restricted setting than the high society parties, dinner and dancing, and even a night under the stars, made its way to you. You were more than happy to accept. Just as promised each and every date was perfect in its own way purely because you got to spend more time together.

You had to find out the hard way Vax had been making excuses to the rest of Vox Machina why he was going out or didn’t come back to the keep some nights. You understood but would have preferred a heads up so you could get your stories straight before you were caught by Grog and Pike one night in the tavern. It took a Modify Memory spell to make Grog think he only saw the two of you together in some kind of drunken stupor. Pike was a bit easier to persuade to keep your ‘thing’ a secret and knowing her well enough, the both of you trusted her to keep the secret until the two of you were ready to figure out where this ‘thing’ was going.

Defining what you were to each other was easy. You had feelings for each other. Love even and you could see yourselves spending your days together, however long that may be. Vax has a tendency to get stuck in his own head when it comes to planning a distant future but you put no pressure on him. No need for talks of getting married, having children or even grandchildren. You take it day by day acknowledging that every relationship has his ups and downs but as long as you have each other’s backs through it all and are supportive of each other you’re more than satisfied with what you have going. You bring each other happiness.

You’re each other’s support system knowing you can trust on one another when the world looks bleak and the odds hopeless. You acknowledge that yes sometimes space and time is what the other needs to process, but you’re never far and know how to read each other’s tells when you do need support, be that a heartfelt conversation, a reality check, or a shoulder to cry on. You’re there for each other no matter what.

Vax would often come back from far travels with a little gift he brought back for you wherever he went. A beautiful feather from a bird, a jewelled necklace, an odd trinket would be presented to you upon his return. Each one with a meaning, and every single one of them as valuable as the next. They held a special place in your heart as much as in your home.

The siege of Emon happened. It was a terrifying experience but you knew how to handle yourself. Capable and resilient, your magic helped you bring several people to safety. You lost Vox Machina in the fray but knew they could take care of themselves. You had others to protect and get out of the city before it was too late. Gathering who you could you made your way to Greyskull Keep. You got there when the gates opened, people flooding in.

Seeing Vax among the crowd trying to organise the crowd you were relieved he was alive and well. Rushing over he kissed you the moment he saw you, caught up in the moment not caring who saw. Your reunion was cut short by the arrival of an ancient white dragon. Vax initially dragged you along behind a tree but you come in hot and the moment the dragon comes within range hit it with a Disintegrate spell. Your next actions show Vax very clearly you know exactly how to handle yourself. Though, from the corner of your eye you can see him cringe when you do get slammed into a wall and to the ground. You avoided getting frozen and get back up into the fight.

The aftermath Vax looks you over to make sure you’re alright. It took a lot to assure him you were fine. Even after getting thrown into a wall slightly bloody and bruised, you’d live. He helped clean up the blood and got Pike to heal your heavier injuries. He spent as much time at your side as he could and after he deemed you well enough let you come with him and help carrying heavier things for the people seeking refuge at the Keep. He got quite worried you might be overexerting yourself which gave you a good glimpse into his protective side.

After some dragon hunting and things eventually calmed down you finally had more time to spend together, going back to your usual habits. Slowly but surely the two of you found you were ready to fully let the other’s know about your relationship, though some may have had suspicions before. You didn’t necessarily tell them directly. It started with you showing up for your little ‘date night’ with Vax and neither of you sneaking around or making up excuses anymore. Gradually the others caught on to what this meant. You’d be staying over at their place more often and while the two of you had managed to avoid the awkward conversations for the longest of times

Sitting at the breakfast table one morning, Vax sitting down next to you and pressing a kiss to your temple with an ‘I love you’ may just have been a little too much for some of them.

Pike of course was happy for you that you finally felt secure enough to share this news and made a little comment that how as a cleric of Sarenrae she legally would be able to officiate a wedding, with an all too innocent smile.

Keyleth was very happy for the both of you gushing how you made the perfect couple and asking you if you had noticed all the ‘annoying little things’ Vax does and what you thought of them. She bombarded you with questions about how your relationship stared, how romantic it was until you told her you would gladly tell her in moderation or you might just run out of your ability to speak.

Grog didn’t get what was going on until Vax spelled it out for him. Grog came to the realisation that the time you used Modify Memory on him, a spell that had since faded, wasn’t a drunken vision after all and really did happen. He told you you could entrust him with all secrets, is an expert ‘silencer’ (his words) and wouldn’t have to use magic to get him to keep quiet anymore.

Percy congratulated the two of you on not conforming to the norms of society and actually having a healthy happy relationship not based on the merits of politics and encouraged you to no longer try and bribe the Castle Whitestone staff when sneaking around because they’ll tell him all your dirty little secrets no matter how much you offer them, all jokingly of course.

Scanlan, oh, Scanlan. How the both of you wished the earth would swallow you whole. Scanlan was being typical Scanlan congratulating for you pulling the stick out of Vax’s ass and loosen him up a bit, complimenting the wonders you must have showed him and speculating the things you must have done to get Vax much more at ease, not without ludicrous and inappropriate innuendoes and hand motions.

Vex, throughout all of that breakfast hadn’t said a single thing and instead stared at you coldly, arms crossed. When Vax asked her to stop regardless of her opinions towards you or your relationship with her brother you stepped in saying that whatever she felt was valid but that you had no intend on replacing her place in his heart nor getting between them. She’d remain at his side and you from now on would just be on the other side. After that, a death threat followed, telling you you better not break Vax’s heart or a broken heart would be the least of your worries. You made sure that would never be your intention and you really did love her brother as much as he loved you. This seemed to ease her up with it. Over time she grew more accepting towards you to the point where you could call her a close friend, sister even.

#critical role x reader #vox machina x reader #vax’ildan x reader #vax x reader #critrole x reader

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fbfh · 4 years ago

Text

I mean, you did ask - leo x reader

all characters are aged up to 18+ for smexy subtext

word count: 2k

pairing: leo x gn child of calliope reader

genre: adventure, romance, hints at a lowkey soulmate au

summary: after a bumpy reunion turned interrogation with your friends, you finally prove to Leo that you’re someone worth catching up with

warnings: swearing, friends hold you at knife point (for good reason) memory loss, dimesion/reality travel, the phrase “horrible sexy little goose” not about an actual animal, moderate time difference between worlds, reader is acting like a cocky piece of shit half the time, you call yourself sexy a lot, annabeth slaps reader and reader is unbothered, reader and leo hae very visceral reactions upon seeing each other, piper picks up on this, moderately aggressive face grabbing, discussing personal info with someone somewhat privately, brief mentions of hand holding and hair pulling during sex, you spill tea about the rest of the demisquad, I think that’s it pls tell me if I missed any

song rec: choke - i don’t know how but they found me

a/n: this is from a very vivid daydream I had so er ah if reader seems op coded that’s cause she is uwu

You were excited to reunite with your friends after so long, but being tied up and held hostage at knifepoint by the people you love who don’t even remember you wasn’t the welcome wagon you were hoping for. Then again, as a child of Calliope, you can’t say you’re surprised.

Apollo has a lot of kids, but demigod children of the muses are exceptionally less common. They’re volatile, really powerful, extremely engrossed in their art, and usually care more about their latest thesis paper or painting or manuscript than going on quests, and more often than not have very specific powers. You, for example, love quests but feel like you never get to go on any, usually because you’re fighting monsters somewhere else. One fun little power you inherited from your mom is - somewhat involuntary - dimension shifting.

A lot of times you just get summoned somewhere else, with a little inherent background knowledge and your weapon, set free into the new world like a horrible sexy little goose. There’s usually some kind of objective you need to meet; find this person, set something in motion, give someone support in a time of need, deliver a package. After that, you get sent back to your family at camp half blood. The catch, one of them at least, is that a few days Somewhere Else could be no more than a few minutes in your homeverse.

Another catch is that because of all that, and the fact that you wouldn’t know how to begin explaining, let alone if anyone would believe you, no one knows you can do this yet. Chiron has an idea, but you’ve never told anyone outright.

You guess now is as good of a time as any to come clean, as Percy holds his sword threateningly close to your neck. You let out a disbelieving laugh, and bite the inside of your cheek.

“Okay, okay… you want the truth?” he starts to back off, and you continue, leaning forward, “I’m not surprised you’d want to know where someone this sexy-” your words cut off as Annabeth’s hand slaps you across the face. You let out a laugh of disbelief, cheek stinging.

“A cheap shot, Annabeth? Wow, I really didn’t take you for the type,” she grabs your face, leaning in close, knife once again against your throat.

"How do you know my name." She hisses, and behind her, the door opens. Messy dark curls peek over her head in your vision and you know instantly who it is. Your heart starts pounding, loud and hard, and something heavy starts swirling deep in your gut. Your eyes lock as soon as he enters the room and an instinctive smile blooms on your face, knowing what's inevitably on its way.

"Hey Sparky…"

Your voice, slow and drawling (and, he'd be lying if he didn't say kind of very sexy) impales him as soon as he enters the room. He watches your pupils expand, eyes locked, immediately swept away by your magnetic aura. A fox like grin decorates your pretty face, and he gets the feeling you know more than you let on. Way more. He's so drawn to you on a guttural level, way more than he's ever been to someone before. His face is hot, and when you slowly wink at him, he feels flames erupt on his cheeks. It takes him a second to put it out, feeling your white hot gaze on him the entire time.

Piper, who's been helping with your interrogation, looks back and forth between you two as this progresses, taking in a breath and mumbling a shocked, "Oh," as she begins to understand.

"How are those repairs coming?" Jason asks, oblivious to everything that's happening between you two.

"Uh… nearly done…" Leo mutters, watching as you hold back an elated giggle at the sound of his voice. You never forget how good it feels to see him again, but the fresh feeling is always better than you can imagine. Jason glances between you two, and walks over to Leo, suspicious of your interest in him.

"I'll walk you back," Jason says, glaring at you. Your eyes stay locked with Leo's until the door finally closes again. Piper stares at you, bewildered by the tension turned to frantic energy crackling around both you and Leo. She can sense it on him even after he's out of the room.

Annabeth finally drops your face, pacing and pinching the bridge of her nose. Percy slams him hands down on the table and levels his face with yours.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time. How do you know us?"

You stare at the table for a second, still thinking about him. You have to see him again. You’ve waited for too long, you just can’t do it anymore.

“H- okay. Um,” You blink a few times, facade falling away almost instantly as you look up in a silent prayer that this doesn’t go as badly as you feel like it will. You sigh, looking back up at the other people in the room, a new, deliberate intention in your eyes that they hadn’t seen before.

“You want to know why I’m here?”

Their answer is the silence that follows.

“You’re not gonna believe me.” They look around at each other, collectively thinking about everything they’ve been through in the last year alone.

“Try us.” Annabeth replies. You sigh again, and introduce yourself. “...I’m a child of Calliope, muse of epic poetry, and I know you all because we grew up together. One of the fun - quirks, I inherited from my mom is traveling into different stories, or realities, I guess. It’s hard to control, and sometimes happens involuntarily. I adapt to wherever I am, and the universe sort of auto adjusts to follow the rules that stories have to follow.

The reason you don’t remember me is because I was gone for a really long time, and your story had to keep going. Trying to find me wouldn’t have moved the plot forward, questioning where I went would have been confusing, so it did the simplest thing and edited me out so you could get closer to meeting your objectives.”

Once again, their silence is your answer.

“Guys, sidebar.” Annabeth says, pulling Percy, Jason, and Piper out of the room for a moment. The come back in a little while later, and she looks you dead in the eye.

“If you really know us as well as you say you do, prove it. Tell us you’d only know if we were as close as you say we were.”

You sigh yet again, having lost count at how many times that’s happened today alone. You roll your shoulders and bob your head, irritable that you’re still restrained and itching to move.

“Is there anything we can do before the whole tell me something really personal thing?”

Percy looks at you, challenging.

“Can you do it or not?”

Another noise of exasperation leaves you, and you agree, resignation all over your face.

“You know what, yeah. Okay, we’re doing this. Someone go get Leo.” An involuntary smile once again launches onto your face at the mention of his name. Jason starts to object.

“Hey, I’m not going to spill something personal about someone when they’re not in the room.” They agree reluctantly, and Jason leaves, returning again with Leo. You look at him again, enraptured by his presence. He can’t say he doesn’t like the attention - a hottie like you looking at him like that? Yes, please - but something about it feels different, and he gets the feeling there’s a lot more going on than they’re aware of.

You nod your head once, indicating for him to come closer. He gets a little closer. You widen your eyes, nodding two more times, and he hesitantly gets within whispering distance.

You turn your head to your left, dangerously close to his face. He can feel his pulse already speeding up. Heat radiates between your faces, your breath fanning over his neck as you whisper slowly,

“You really… really like holding hands, and when I pull your hair during sex.”

He pulls away from you quickly, beet red, bewildered expression obvious to everyone in the room. “H-how-”

“How do you think?” You reply calmly, loving everything about him, “Okay, to be fair…” you nod once more, eyes flaring, and he leans in once again, equally hesitant and curious. Your words tickle his ear, seeming to light up his entire nervous system like a firecracker.

“I really really like when you bite that spot on my neck, just below my ear.”

He pulls away again, trying not to literally and figuratively combust. He stares in your eyes intensely, searching for anything besides the truth. He finds absolutely nothing. He turns around, unable to look his friends in the eye.

“They’re legit, guys.”

“Wait, what did you say to him?” Piper asks, unsure if she wants to know the answer.

“Yeah,” Annabeth agrees, “what if it’s some kind of mind control-” Your deep, burning desire to finally hold Leo after god knows how long is starting to beat your better judgement, and you really, really want to be untied from this stupid chair. “Annabeth! Your favorite show was Cyber Chase growing up, you used to come up with plans on how to defeat Hacker, your best was cutting off his food supply - good strategy, I’ve used it before, myself.

Percy, you feel like you can’t sing because you were forced to participate in an elementary school recital and some kid called you tonedeaf behind your back, it kicked you right in the RSD balls.

Piper, you’re a closet weeb, you watched Ouran High School Host club obsessively and still do sometimes, you fell for Jason because he had, quote, 'Tamaki's looks and Kyoya's brains, the ideal man'.

Jason, that scar on your lip is from biting a stapler as a child-"

"Okay, everyone knows that-"

"-and," you continue, showing no signs of stopping, "the reason you ate the stapler is because you were pretending to be a trash compactor because you saw one on TV.

Nico is totally not right outside the door keeping guard right now, but if he were and you asked him if he likes the diary of a wimpy kid movies he'll ask how the hell you know that - should I continue."

Again, the answers are in the silence hovering in the room.

“I think it’s about time to catch me up on what I missed.”

A beat passes.

“Right,” Annabeth says, blinking and readjusting her ponytail as she sits down across from you, Percy already taking the bindings off of your wrists, “so, about the quest…”

She starts to fill you in on the details you missed, bringing you up to speed. After a little while you all decide to call it a night. Piper senses your energy ramping up in spite of the exhaustion settling in. You finally bid them all good night, but Piper’s not sold by your forced yawns. After what feels like another lifetime, you finally leave the room you’ve been in for hours with one objective.

You can’t stay away from him anymore, you have to find Leo.

After navigating a maze of hallways and doors, you finally push open the right one to see him looking up at you, and find yourself saying for the second time tonight,

“Hey, Sparky…”

His heart is racing, and he gets that heavy, full feeling in his chest again, not having fully shaken it from the last time you saw each other. Looking into your eyes makes him nostalgic for something he can’t quite remember, and he knows with full certainty that you have more history than he’s aware of. He wants more than anything in this moment to remember. He sets down the wrench in his hand, taking a step toward you.

“Hey…”

#leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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cursestothemoon · 4 years ago

Note

Lmao I’m so stupid, it’s supposed to be wash day lol. As a black girl I like to imagine the reactions to wash day. Especially the weasleys

don't worry about it! i’d love to write this

also im going to be combining it with another ask i got

omg hey shawty uhh... gained up the courage to request sumn else for you :>

its a bit stupid but NSJSJDJSJSB but could you do something like fred weasley with a black gorl or sumn-- and if you need a house then hufflepuff pls :>

alright we’re doing ALL THE WEASLEYS with a black girl and what wash day would look like with them around

and just a usual disclaimer: i am white 😌

Bill Weasley

first off i like to think you guys met after Hogwarts

idk why it just makes sense

let me tell you BILL WEASLEY loves when your hair is in braids

pLEASE

all kinds of braids

he loves it so much

he thinks its so beautiful

he also thinks youre always beautiful duh 🙄

but something about braids he just ❤️👄❤️

ok Bill Weasley during wash day is so fantastic

because he will sit with you

and watch you

and try so hard to learn your routine and steps

and when you ask why he’ll hit you with

“When we have kids I’ll need to know how to take care of their beautiful hair 🙄”

and he says it so naturally

he will also help with detangling

gOD

could you imagine just sitting with him, your back to his chest

both of you are detangling your hair

🥺

Charlie Weasley

ok so Charlie

i love Charlie so much

anyway

YOU ARE LITERALLY HIS GODDESS

HE WILL WORSHIP YOU

HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

THIS IS SUCH A POWER COUPLE I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH

i don’t think Charlie has any one style he prefers over another

he will loses his mind over however you wear your hair

wash days with Charlie are so cute

he will make sure he sets aside his whole day to be with you during wash day

i think he’d just like to keep you company

even if you’d want his help detangling or anything else

if not thats cool to its your hair babe your rules

he’d rather just sit with you and talk

i also imagine Charlie Weasley as a very large man

big

i think i’ve said this before but Henry Cavill

Henry Cavill but ginger

and he doesn't want to hurt you

but he still knows your routine by heart

sTOP CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE GOING THROUGH WASH DAY

YOU ARE ALMOST DONE TWISTING YOUR HAIR WITH THE LEAVE IN CONDITIONER

and Charlie is just watching you with the stupidest smile on his face because he just loves you so much

Percy Weasley

i know ive said this before

but literally caNNOT CONNECT TO PERCY

LITERALLY WHO IS PERCY WEASLEY

WHAT IS PERCY WEASLEY

W H Y IS PERCY WEASLEY

ok so

i feel like percy, as a very political person, would be very into black history and learning all about it

percy weasley goes to protests.

especially after the war when he had the whole moment of realization with the ministry

the thought of racism literally boils this mans bloOD

im not saying the other weasleys don't care, they do very much so, but I can see Percy being just super involved

like Charlie I don’t think he’d have a favorite hair style on you

thats actually a lie

twists or locks will make him weak in the knees

alsO THE HISTORY AND MEANING BEHIND CERTAIN STYLES HE LOVES TO LEARN ABOUT

ok wash days with ole’ perce

will sit with you and read

likes to keep you company

but also he’s a busy guy so hes doing something for work

or just reading

pERCY KNITS

im sorry but he does and he knits while you go through your wash day routine

George Weasley

George Weasley.

honestly im gonna start yelling again

THIS COUPLE

GOD TIER

THERE IS LITERALLY NO REASON FOR YOU GUYS TO BE SUCH ✨BADDIES✨ TOGETHER ✋🏻

George Weasley will go to BLACK OWNED SALONS AND HAIR STYLISTS to learn how to do a few styles

just have it under his belt

just in case

and he won’t even do it as a “look what i did 😏”

no you won’t even know until one day it like comes up

and he’s like yeah why wouldn’t i

he is also very invested in black history

wash days with Georgie are so much fun

he’s bouncing around

has music playing

is asking you questions

you guys are just having so much fun

he will also take a day off work if it lands on a day where he has to go into the shop

he loves being with you during wash days

he calls it ‘wash day bonding time’

hes a dork

Fred Weasley

you guys met in school

i just know it

also much like Bill

something about box braids really gets him going

he thinks they look SO GOOD

and one think Fred literally cannot wrap his mind around

something that grinDS HIS GEARS

cultural appropriation

if someone out in public is appropriating a culture he WILL say something

but only if he is sure its cultural appropriation

he just cANNOT STAND IT

and i think this is regardless of who is dating, its just something that genuinely irks him

ok we all know Fred is a giant ball of energy

and ANYTHING excites him

you could say you’re going to the grocery store

aND HE IS BUZZING AROUND BECAUSE SOMETHING IS HAPPENING AND THATS SO EXCITING

so wash day is the same

hes jumping around

hes excited

hes asking questions

he’s doing so much

he cannot sit still

he tries for the first ten or so minutes

but then he’s up

bringing snacks

feeding you snacks if you have hair product on your hands

fred would be dancing around

he would make it so much fun

little kisses here and there

he also has to smell every single product

every

single

one

he also remembers the products you use and pays attention to when their running bit low and will go buy you more

idk stan fred weasley or whatever ✋🏻🙄

Ron Weasley

alright

R O N

hes a lot like Charlie i think

aLSO RON LOVES YOUR NATURAL HAIR

the other weasleys do too

bUT RON LOVES IT SO MUCH

ANY HAIRSTYLE WITH YOUR NATURAL HAIR HE IS HERE FOR

ok wash days with Ron are so fun

he’s just gossiping

he tells you all the drama thats going on

this man can talk for hours and he can get so pETTY

so wash day is definitely gossip day

he will sit with snacks as he watches you

and talks about people at work

or people at Hogwarts

“bABE did you hear about who that Slytherin bloke is dating?”

he also likes to smell all the products

or asks what they do

it would be so wholesome

Ginny Weasley

OK GINNY

i love ginny so much

i think you guys met after school to be completely honest

early twenties

she has no favorite hair style on you she thinks you look beautiful regardless

like george she will learn how to do a few protective hairstyles

because she loves you so much and wants to understand as best she can and one of the ways she does that is learning about your hair, what to do, what not to do, and how to care for it

stop if you were ok with her practicing on you it would be so cute 🥺

but she doesn’t expect you to be ok with it, like she isnt going to be pushy about it

she is very much a believer that it is YOUR hair YOUR rules

like everyone should be.

wash day with Ginny is so much fun

she's smelling things

asking questions

writing down the routine

she is mesmerized

because your hair is so bEAUTIFUL

and she develops this new appreciation for black people (men, women, and non-binary- all of you babes) and their hair and the pride and care that goes into it

when your arms get tired because you’re holding them up for so long she’ll give you shoulder rubs 🥺

little kisses

and they are so random

she also enjoys feeding you snacks while you go through your routine

regardless of if you something in/on your hands or not

i am a ginny weasley siMP

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@georgeweasleysbabe

#george weasley imagine #fred weasley imagine #bill weasley imagine #ron weasley imagine #Ginny Weasley imagine #charlie weasley imagine #percy weasley imagine

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knuffled · 4 years ago

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 17

here’s the ao3 link

The hospital garden was nestled along the northern side of the building and overlooked a small pond. Perhaps it was too generous to call it a garden. In reality, it was only a few flower beds of orchids and lilacs stowed carefully in terracotta pots. When the weather was nice, the patients would often spend some time there on the benches to get some fresh air. It wasn’t much but it definitely beat being cooped up in a hospital room with that stale, sterilized air that always made her feel more like a laboratory specimen than a human being.

After her surgery, Annabeth was allowed to visit the garden provided she went in a wheelchair to avoid agitating her knee. The doctor’s initial diagnosis had proven to be accurate once they ran some imaging tests on her: it was, in fact, a torn ACL. Annabeth had suspected as much, and she opted to get it operated on sooner than later. The surgery had gone quite well, actually. She had been lucky enough to only suffer a partial tear, according to her doctor. If she had suffered a complete tear, it could have possibly made both surgery and her subsequent recovery much more difficult.

Nonetheless, Annabeth didn’t feel particularly lucky. Honestly, in the week that she spent at the hospital, she hardly felt anything at all. Just numb. Her physical therapy sessions were the only things she had to look forward to in order to get her mind off of things. Otherwise, she was mainly stuck confined to her bed with her leg suspended in that god awful brace. Piper had brought her some novels to occupy her time, but Annabeth couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything she read.

Today was the first day the weather had been clear enough to head outside, and Annabeth had jumped at the chance to get out of her stuffy hospital room as soon as she could. She sat outside staring at the pond with her brain turned off, watching ducks glide across the water’s surface and preen their feathers.

Within another day or two she would be discharged from the hospital and would have to head back home, but she really didn’t want to. Her father had dropped by the day after her injury, but his visit was practically a formality. He had stayed for all of five minutes, only making sure she wasn’t dead really, before he left. On top of every other shitty thing that had happened to her recently, his visit only served to rub salt in the wound.

Sometime mid-afternoon, one of the orderlies told her that she had a visitor. Annabeth had been expecting Piper or Jason, but she was surprised to see Reyna approach her instead.

Reyna gave her a small wave, her hand hidden in the sleeve of her purple sweatshirt. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Reyna shifted on her heels. “I’m not intruding am I?”

“Funnily enough, my schedule is quite free these days,” Annabeth said lightly.

That managed to get the corner of Reyna’s lips to tug upwards. “Glad to see your injury hasn’t done anything to change your god-awful sense of humor.”

“It’s quite bad mannered to bully the infirm, you know,” Annabeth sniffed.

Reyna rolled her eyes and sat down at the bench beside Annabeth. “How’s your leg doing?”

Annabeth sighed and said, “It’s recovering. Just got surgery done a few days ago.”

“Surgery?” Reyna frowned.

Annabeth nodded. “Turns out I tore my ACL.”

Reyna grimaced and said, “Jeez, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The doctors said that I’m lucky it was only a partial tear,” Annabeth said, smiling weakly. “But I don’t feel particularly lucky.”

“D-Did they say anything about how long it’ll take for you to make a full recovery?” Reyna asked hesitantly.

“They were pretty wishy-washy about it,” Annabeth said, shrugging. “Guessing they don’t want to be liable for being wrong. Only estimate they gave me was that I could walk normally in about two weeks or so. After that, depends on how well I respond to physical therapy.”

Reyna was silent for a while before she said, “Meet me at the college circuit someday. I’ll be waiting there for you. And then we can finally settle things.”

Annabeth picked at the hem of her shirt with a wan smile. “What’s there to settle? I haven’t beat you a single time. There’s a clear winner here, and it sure isn’t me.”

“You of all people should know you’re only as good as your last race,” Reyna said. “People in our sport can never afford to rest on their laurels.”

When Annabeth was silent, Reyna quietly said, “You look like you’ve already given up.”

Reyna’s words stung and made Annabeth recoil. “I’m sick of giving myself false hope.”

“The way I see it, hope has nothing to do with it. The only question is if you still want to try. If you still want to compete, then you’ll keep pushing until you find a way through,” Reyna said, shrugging.

“Now, I’m not here to tell you whether you should keep going or not. That’s up to you. But don’t hide behind hope as an excuse. If you want to stop, then own it.”

Annabeth stared at her lap for a while and said, “I- I don’t know. I need more time to think about it.”

Reyna nodded and said, “I don’t blame you. It’s a big decision.”

There was another pause before Annabeth cleared her throat and said, “I never got a chance to apologize. For what happened at the meet, I mean.”

Reyna furrowed her brow. “What is there to apologize for?”

Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. “I cost you the race. If it weren’t for me, you would have won state and placed nationally.”

“From what I recall, a certain someone was screaming at me to let her go because I was, and I quote, ‘throwing the fucking race’,” Reyna said dryly.

“Sorry about that,” Annabeth mumbled.

Reyna gave her a smile and said, “You have nothing to blame yourself for, Annabeth. It was my choice to stay and help you.”

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. “But why though? Why did you help me?”

“I already told you,” Reyna said, mock-exasperatedly. “Because we’re friends.”

“And that was enough of a reason?”

“There are more important things than high school cross country races, Annabeth,” Reyna said simply.

Annabeth bit her lower lip and struggled to wrap her head around Reyna’s answer. They were friends, but not so close that it made sense for her to abandon the championship for her sake. Maybe Reyna was just like that with people she deemed friends or perhaps it was just a decision made in the heat of the moment.

“And you don’t resent me or anything for it?” Annabeth asked.

“Not one bit,” Reyna said firmly. “I would do it again if I had to. I’m sure you would have done the same for me.”

“You think too highly of me,” Annabeth said quietly. “But thank you.”

Reyna raised an eyebrow and said, “So you would have left me lying in the mud with a fucked up leg just to a win a race then?”

Annabeth paused and said, “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose not.”

“See? Told you: there are more important things,” Reyna said, smiling. “Besides, I don’t want you using your injury as an excuse for when I inevitably kick your ass.”

That got a watery laugh out of Annabeth. “I’m just glad you don’t hate me.”

Reyna rolled her eyes fondly. “Of course not.”

Annabeth hid a smile and stared up at the clear, blue sky for a while before something occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Percy told me,” Reyna said, shrugging.

Annabeth furrowed her brow and said, “You have his number?”

“No, we just happened to run into each other somewhere, and I got a chance to ask him.”

Annabeth’s heart beat faster in her chest. “D-Did he say anything else to you?”

Reyna shook her head. “No, but he looked like a mess though. Did something happen?”

Annabeth nodded and felt a lump form in her throat. Slowly, she told Reyna about everything that had unfolded after she had left her with Percy. Reyna listened quietly and intently the entire time that Annabeth spoke, but Annabeth couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Annabeth finished by saying, “I know I shouldn’t have cornered him like that just because I was so angry about my knee, especially the whole confession thing, but at the same time, I can’t help being frustrated that he still refused to open up, right to the very end.”

When Reyna was silent, Annabeth looked at her and said, “You once said that you thought he lied all the time about how he felt and what he wanted. Is this what you meant?”

“Not exactly,” Reyna admitted. “I thought it was something more malicious, but after seeing how he is around you, it’s obvious how much he cares for you.”

“If he does,” Annabeth said softly, “it’s not in a way that I understand.”

“You’re not alone in feeling that way, I would imagine,” Reyna said. “We all have different ideas of what it means to love and be loved, and sometimes those ideas don’t match up.”

“And there’s nothing we can do about that then?” Annabeth asked.

Reyna shook her head. “No, it just means you both need to talk to about your needs. It’s not wrong to teach someone how to love you the way you need them to.”

“I would if he bothered to listen,” Annabeth said tersely.

“Really? From what you’ve told me about him, he seems to listen to you a great deal,” Reyna said, sounding surprised.

Annabeth worried her lower lip and hesitantly said, “I mean, yeah, I guess that’s accurate. But there’s still something that gets in the way, and I don’t know what it is.”

“I said this before, but it seems like he’s holding something back,” Reyna said. “Not in the way one hides secrets, but in the way you shoulder a burden, quietly and without complaint. Maybe it’s just that over time that weight has become too much to bear.”

Reyna’s words instantly struck a chord in her, even though she hadn’t fully processed them yet.

A wry smile danced on Reyna’s lips. “Reminds me a lot of my sister. Something about how sad their eyes look.”

Annabeth blinked in surprise - she had always pegged Reyna as an only child. “Wait, you have a sister?”

Reyna nodded and said, “Yeah, seven years older than me. Her name’s Hylla.”

She looked like she had more to say, so Annabeth remained silent and watched her. Reyna buried her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt and stared up at the sky with a sigh.

“My dad was a physically abusive piece of shit growing up, so much so that my mother left him. Unfortunately, she didn’t bother to take us with her, for whatever reason, so we had to fend for ourselves. As the older sibling, Hylla took it upon herself to protect me until she was old enough to move out and take me with her,” Reyna said.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Annabeth said quietly.

“It’s whatever. We’re fine now, for the most part,” Reyna said, shrugging. “But sometimes I can tell that it still eats at Hylla. It wouldn’t be that big a deal, but she has a hard time opening up or putting herself first. Over the years, I’ve tried my best to help her through it, but it’s something she still struggles with.”

“Eventually, I realized that there was really nothing I could do,” Reyna said, pursing her lips. “So instead I swore to myself that I would be open and straight-forward about everything, in the hopes that maybe if I could show her there was another way, it might change something. And who knows, maybe it’s all for nothing, but at least I am being true to myself and honest about what I want.”

Reyna traced the lines on her palm and swallowed thickly. “But it’s really tough. People think it’s easy and assume nothing scares me but they’re wrong. I’m terrified, like all the time, but seeing how much it tears away at my sister, keeping everything locked up inside, I— I don’t ever want to live that way.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Annabeth said softly. “I can’t begin to imagine how much courage that takes.”

Reyna gave her a smile and said, “Thanks. That means a lot.”

Annabeth shook her head. “I should be the one thanking you, for sharing all of this.”

“It’s no problem. I only brought it up because your situation reminded me of my sister and I. Maybe I’m totally off base about that, I don’t know,” Reyna said.

“No, um, it was definitely helpful,” Annabeth said.

Reyna took Annabeth’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You still look conflicted.”

Annabeth laughed breathlessly and shrugged. “I-I don’t know. I guess I’m still having a hard time accepting that we’re even in this situation. It just hurts to find out that I didn’t know him anywhere near as well as I thought I did.”

“Why does that have to hurt?” Reyna asked. “What is it that troubles you so much?”

Annabeth had to pause and really think about Reyna’s question because nothing immediately came to mind. It was only now that she realized that it was actually kind of strange that she was so distraught about this to begin with. It wasn’t like there was anything particularly awful about the situation. After all, this sort of thing was totally common, but it still seemed to profoundly unsettle her all the same. She was just having a hard time understanding why that was the case.

“It’s hard to say,” Annabeth admitted. “I think it’s because Percy’s the only person in my life that I have ever truly been able to rely on, and finding out that I don’t fully know him scares me. If I don’t know him, utterly and completely, then how can I count on him? It just makes me feel really insecure, like this is all a house of cards that could come tumbling down at any moment.”

Reyna sighed and said, “I don’t know. I just think knowing someone is a pretty impossible standard to set for yourself.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my experience, a person isn’t something to be known like a fact in a book,” Reyna said. “The human heart isn’t something quite so definitive. A person is always ever in the process of unraveling, constantly revealing themselves moment by moment, piece by piece. None of us ever really knows one another, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters is the effort we make to know one another, not whether we succeed. That’s all that love is: finding someone that you make the effort to know, to discover and rediscover, over and over again. And they do the same for you.”

“But then how can we ever trust anyone?” Annabeth asked desperately.

“You take a leap of faith,” Reyna said simply. “I wish I could say there was some trick to never having your trust broken but that’s not possible. Trust, by its very nature, is a brittle thing, but that’s also what makes it worth anything. The only reason trust holds any value at all is because it is something that needs to be earned.”

Reyna’s words made Annabeth recall what Percy had told her atop Aspen Peak. She hadn’t fully understood what he had meant at the time, but now she realized that there was a power to vulnerability that she didn’t know existed. It was a paradox but only by opening herself to heartbreak could she ever find what she was looking for: something permanent.

Annabeth managed a half-smile and said, “Percy told me it was like letting someone touch your heart with their hands and praying they didn’t crush it between their fingers, but that it was something we needed to do anyways.”

“That’s a pretty good way to put it,” Reyna laughed.

Annabeth sighed and said, “Would be nice if relationships weren’t so fucking complicated.”

“Agreed,” Reyna said, yawning. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thanks again for visiting me and for the advice. It was really helpful.”

“And thank you for listening,” Reyna said, smiling.

“I hope someday I’ll be able to live as strongly as you do,” Annabeth said.

“You already live that way,” Reyna said, shrugging. “You just doubt yourself too much.”

Annabeth worried her lower lip and nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Reyna offered one final smile and said, “Guess I’ll head out then. Keep me posted about your leg and everything. When you can walk, we should hit up the batting cages again. Take your mind off things.”

“I’d like that,” Annabeth smiled.

“See you later, Annabeth.”

“You too, Reyna.”

Annabeth watched and waited for Reyna to leave before she sighed and headed back inside the hospital herself. She felt lighter for the first time in weeks. Reyna’s advice stuck in the back of her mind, and Annabeth took some time to digest it. She had a feeling it would help her figure out her path going forward.

:::

Piper came to pick her up on the day she was discharged from the hospital. By then, Annabeth could walk with the help of a brace that helped keep most of her weight off her knee, but she could only walk for a few minutes or so at most before the strain piled up and became too much. Piper leaned against the side of her car and watched Annabeth hobble over before she rushed in and gave Annabeth a hug.

“Didn’t realize you were so happy to see me,” Annabeth joked.

“Shut up,” Piper mumbled against her skin. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Annabeth swallowed thickly and whispered, “Thanks, Pipes.”

Piper pulled away and offered a gentle smile. “Ready to go then?”

“Yep.”

Piper opened the passenger’s side door for Annabeth and waited for Annabeth to take a seat before she did so as well. Annabeth rolled down the windows and relished in the late April breeze when it flowed across her face. Piper started the car and turned the radio on before she pulled out of the hospital parking lot and onto the interstate.

Once they were on their way, Annabeth turned to Piper and said, “You’re still okay with me staying with you right? I complete get if that’s not an option anymore.”

“No, you’re totally fine,” Piper assured her. “It’ll be nice to have some company. Besides, my place is too fucking big for only one person.”

“Your dad’s still away on a shoot then?” Annabeth asked.

Piper shrugged. “Probably. Didn’t bother asking.”

Annabeth nodded slowly and turned back to the window, but Piper looked at her and said, “Your parents aren’t going to flip out about this right?”

“Oh, I’m sure Helen will kick up a fuss, but that’s kind of par for the course,” Annabeth said.

“I’m all for it and everything, but have you really thought this through? I mean, leaving your family is a huge decision,” Piper said.

Annabeth gave her a significant look and said, “In all the time you’ve known me, when have I ever not thought things through?”

“Alright, fair point,” Piper admitted. “I’m still worried though.”

“I was going to have to leave for college anyways. This is basically only moving up the schedule. Besides, I’m pretty sure they’ll be glad to finally see me gone,” Annabeth said.

Piper grimaced and nodded. “I wish you didn’t have to go through all this. Especially now, with your leg and all.”

“It is what it is,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

They drove along in silence for a while before Piper glanced at her again and said, “I, uh, wanted to ask you about something unrelated.”

“Fire away.”

“I’m not sure if you know anything, but Percy has been acting really strange lately,” Piper said. “I’ve tried asking him about it, but he just smiles and says that it’s nothing.”

Annabeth sighed. She had been expecting this, but it was still rough now that it was finally here. Slowly, Annabeth began to explain the whole fake dating arrangement from the start of the school year and everything that had happened since then, culminating in their confrontation after her injury. Piper didn’t say so much as word, but Annabeth noticed the way her fingers tightened around the steering wheel so hard they drained of blood.

When she was done, Annabeth watched Piper with bated breath, waiting for the worst. Piper just exhaled forcefully and said, “Christ, what a mess.”

“I know,” Annabeth said mildly.

“So this whole time, you guys weren’t actually dating then? You were just lying about it?”

Annabeth hung her head and said, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Piper was quiet for a moment before she shook her head incredulously. “I mean, I knew something was up with how jittery you were about the whole dating thing, but I never expected this.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Annabeth said. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am mad at you. Furious, actually. But I’m equally as frustrated with Percy. As bad an idea as it was on your part, he should never have accepted. He knows better,” Piper said, fuming. “A pair of idiots, the both of you. What were you both thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said.

“Well, what’s done is done, I guess,” Piper sighed. “Honestly, maybe this what the both of you needed. Maybe now you’ll finally sort out your relationship.”

“Or maybe this is the end of it for good,” Annabeth said wryly.

“Love the optimism, babe.”

Annabeth huffed a laugh and said, “I’ll try my best to fix this, but I don’t know if I can.”

Piper was quiet for a while before she said, “Give it another shot. Maybe things will be different now that he’s had time to think about all this on his own too.”

“Yeah, you might be right,” Annabeth said.

There was another pause before Annabeth said, “You’re not gonna rescind your offer to let me crash with you, right?”

Piper snorted and said, “I have half a mind to, but I won’t. As stupid as you are, you’re still my best friend, and I’m not going to turn my back on you.”

“I don’t appreciate the insult, but thank you,” Annabeth said, smiling.

Piper glanced at her and jabbed her with her elbow. “Don’t look so happy with yourself or I might change my mind.”

“What, I’m not allowed to be happy that you called me your best friend?” Annabeth asked innocently.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “Don’t try and schmooze your way out of this, you know what you’ve done. Especially, after that whole spiel about how you always think things through too.”

They pulled up in front of Annabeth’s house, and the brief levity in the air dissipated immediately. Annabeth set her jaw and took a deep breath, but her heart still beat faster in her chest anyways. Piper gave her a look of concern and squeezed her forearm.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” Piper whispered.

Annabeth shook her head. “No, this is something I need to do alone.”

Piper nodded but she still looked worried as Annabeth steadied herself and stepped out of the car. She hobbled to the front door and stepped inside with the spare key hidden beneath the flower pot. It was quiet inside the house, but the cars were still in the driveway so her father and step-mother had to be home. Annabeth pursed her lips and made her way upstairs to her room.

There was a suitcase hidden in her closet, and she pulled it out and opened it on the floor of her bedroom. She packed as many clothes as she could inside and stuffed her laptop, charger, phone charger, and water bottle inside her backpack. Once she was satisfied that she had everything prepared, she sat on her bed with a sigh.

Annabeth took a look around the room and felt a sudden rush of nostalgia wash over her. This was probably the last time she would ever come here, she mused. It was littered with all sorts of knick knacks and photos, posters and sketches. As much as she hated living in this house, this was the only place she could call her own. Leaving it almost felt like killing a part of herself off. Her step-mother would turn it into a storage room or something once she was gone, and soon there would be no trace that she had ever lived here. Something about that hurt, even though Annabeth knew it was for the best.

She stood up, feeling more than a little melancholy, and steeled her heart. There was still one last thing she needed to do. Annabeth put her luggage in the hallway and tentatively stepped into her father’s study. Thankfully, he wasn’t there. She riffled through the drawers of his desk in search of the old brown briefcase he stashed old letters in. It was always weird to her that he just kept letters, but he said he liked to have records in case companies tried to swindle him out of money. It was hidden away in some dark corner, and she dumped the contents onto the carpet.

There were hundreds of envelopes so it took her some time to sift through them all, but a few minutes later Annabeth’s worst fears were confirmed. There was an unopened letter addressed to her from Berkeley, dated October 4th.

That wasn’t the worst of it however.

There was another letter from Stanford. Northwestern. Duke. Cornell. Dartmouth. All dated from late September to early October. All unopened.

Annabeth had always felt something off about the fact that her Berkeley letter never reached her. She had dismissed it as a fluke but during her stay at the hospital it occurred to her that there could have been a more malevolent explanation. Seeing the letters now only confirmed her worst suspicions, but the sense of betrayal still hit her harder than she had anticipated.

She snatched the letters and stormed downstairs, as quickly as she could with her brace. Her father and step-mother were in the living room watching the news.

Helen blinked in surprise and said, “Annabeth? I didn’t know you were home from the hospital.”

Annabeth ignored her and held up the envelopes, her hands trembling. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, dear,” Helen said mildly.

“These are college letters. Addressed to me. Why did no one tell me?” Annabeth asked.

Helen shrugged and said, “I didn’t think they were important.”

Her excuse was so bad, it actually made Annabeth’s head hurt. “How could you not think that those might be important to your step-daughter, a senior in high school?”

A gleam of irritation flashed in Helen’s eyes. “You have been getting letters since junior year, and they always just asked you to apply, so I thought these were more of the same.”

“Let’s pretend for a moment that your terrible excuse is valid - you still should have shown me these,” Annabeth said.

“You’re still a child. Talk to your parents with respect,” Helen snapped.

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You literally lost me the chance to go to fucking Stanford, so you’ll have to forgive me for not having much respect for you.”

“Annabeth,” her father warned.

The smart thing to do would have been to drop it then and there. Nothing good could have come of this. The damage was already done. Continuing this would only make things worse.

Annabeth knew all this, but at that moment, she was filled with such uncontrolled rage, rage that had been built upon years upon years of horrid treatment from Helen and her father who couldn’t be bothered to care about the fact that his new wife routinely emotionally abused his first-born daughter, that she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“She fucking knew this was important and she hid these from me anyways,” Annabeth snapped. “She’s so insecure about that fact that I’m more intelligent than her kids that she has to sabotage me.”

“Annabeth, that’s enough,” her father said sharply.

Annabeth turned to him and balled her hands in fists. “And you! You never say anything. You just let her treat me like absolute dogshit, and you don’t even care.”

“Young lady, you are so disrespectful that it honestly blows my mind,” Helen said coldly. “How you can accuse me of treating you poorly when you never bother to interact with the family and treat us like strangers is beyond me.”

“That’s rich coming from the person who couldn’t be bothered to visit her step-daughter once in the hospital,” Annabeth snorted.

A vein bulged on Helen’s forehead, and Annabeth knew she had her. “The reason I do my best to stay out of the house isn’t rocket science. From day one, you have done absolutely everything you can to make me feel unwelcome in this family-”

“Let me tell you something that you don’t seem to understand: no one is ruining your life, dear,” Helen interrupted. “You ruin things yourself and blame everyone else for it instead. You are just an ungrateful, spiteful little girl that does nothing but cause people pain.”

Annabeth stiffened like she’d been hit in the face with a shovel. Her thoughts turned to radio static and her chest squeezed so painfully that it was hard for her to breathe.

No words came to her.

Without meaning to, she turned to her father.

“D-Dad?” Annabeth asked, her voice cracking.

Annabeth wasn’t even sure what she was asking for, just that at that moment, she felt very much like she was seven years old again, asking him to check for monsters hiding in the closet. Back then she had taken it for granted that he would help her, that he would keep her safe. Suddenly, it made sense why she kept looking to him whenever Helen tormented her, even though she knew he would never come to her aid. She thought she had abandoned that hope a long time ago, but now Annabeth realized some small part of her had still held on to it, like someone tending to a dying flame.

Still, there was nothing that could prepare her for the silence in the living room at that moment as her father simply sat there, his lips pressed in a hard line, still not looking at her.

Annabeth forced herself to take a deep breath. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to let Helen win this.

No, instead, Annabeth turned to her father and offered him a strained smile. “Since it is apparent that you aren’t going to say anything on my behalf, like always, I just wanted to tell you a few things before I left. And yes, I am leaving. I’m done living in this house, which should delight the both of you. I don’t know that would even worry you, but rest assured: I’ll figure things out on my own, like I always have.”

When Helen bristled at the accusation, Annabeth offered her a smile like poisoned honey and said, “Before you open your mouth, feel free to shut the fuck up. I’m talking to my father right now.”

Helen went red, but Annabeth stared her down, begging her to say something. Helen glanced at her father, but for whatever reason, he didn’t come to her aid this time. She shook her head incredulously and left the living room, leaving Annabeth alone with her father.

When she was gone, he looked at Annabeth for the first time and said, “You went too far.”

“I honestly don’t give a shit,” Annabeth said simply.

Her father opened his mouth to chastise her, undoubtedly, but Annabeth bulldozed on through.

“Don’t bother to defend her. I’ll be gone in a few minutes anyways, and then it won’t matter since you’ll never have to see me again. But until then, you are going to shut up and listen to me,” Annabeth said.

Her father pressed his mouth in a thin line, which Annabeth took as permission to keep going.

“I don’t know when or how things went so wrong between us. I still remember how it used to be, back when mom was still around,” Annabeth started.

“She’s gone, Annabeth,” he interrupted.

“Yeah, I fucking know, but you don’t seem to realize you weren’t the only one she left behind,” Annabeth yelled.

“She left me, too, you know? And you have punished me for that, every day since she left,” Annabeth said, her voice cracking.

Annabeth steadied herself before she got too emotional and shook her head. “But I want you to know something - I am proud to be my mother’s daughter. Despite your best efforts to make me feel otherwise, I will not apologize for that, for being here, for existing. And I’m done looking to you for help or safety or even acknowledgement given you’ve long since proven to be utterly incapable of that. And I want you to know that someday I’ll find people who love and accept me, and I won’t ever have to spare a second of my life thinking about you and how you made me feel. Someday, I’ll heal and you’ll be nothing more than a bad memory.”

With that, Annabeth left to retrieve her luggage from the hallway before he could respond and left the house for good. Piper was pacing around her car and rushed over to her once she heard the door open and threw her arms around her.

“Are you okay?” Piper asked. “It sounded pretty bad in there.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, nodding. “I finally let go of something I should have a long time ago.”

Piper studied her for a moment before nodding to herself. “Alright, looks like that’s settled then. Let’s go get something to eat!”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “You’re dropping it, just like that?”

“You look like you’ve got it figured out on your own,” Piper said, shrugging. “Besides, I can tell this is something I can’t really help you with anyways.”

Annabeth smiled despite herself and shook her head. “I never thought the day would come when Piper McLean would know when to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Piper rolled her eyes and stashed her luggage in her car trunk. “Don’t make me change my mind about letting you stay.”

“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one,” Annabeth said, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Piper muttered.

“But seriously though,” Annabeth said, clearing her throat. “Thank you. For everything. It means more to me than I can say.”

“You’re welcome,” Piper said softly. “I’m happy for you. Leaving that hellhole was a long time coming. You definitely made the right call.”

“What happened to all the asking me if I was sure about it and stuff?” Annabeth asked.

“I’ve always wanted you to leave. I just didn’t want to influence your decision,” Piper said.

Annabeth was quiet for a moment and said, “You’re actually a really good friend, huh?”

Piper gave her a cheeky grin and started the car. “I’m offended that it took you so long to notice.”

#knuffled fic #just practice #percabeth fic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #annabeth chase #percy jackson

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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tea and whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 6

summary: despite his best efforts, it appears as though you're completely slipping through jack's fingers. it appears as though he has no choice but to put everything out on the table in a last ditch attempt to keep you by his side. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, mentions of death

this one's a bit of a rollercoaster, but i promise it's fun <3

- jazz xx

You'd told Jack that things between you were fine.

They didn't feel as much.

You had meant it when you'd said it - it was just that the more you thought about it and the more you pondered on your concerns, the more worried you became. Did you even know Jack Daniels at all? His mysteriousness had been attractive at first but the closer you got to him, the more you found yourself wanting to hold him at an arm's length until you had your answers. When the situation between you had been a co-workers-with-benefits affair, it hadn't mattered so much. But now, you'd agreed it was something more intense, something more meaningful. Was it unfair to think that you deserved to know a little more? To get a more substance than just it's fine, trust me?

Whilst you hadn't wanted it to get in the ways of things, you couldn't help it. It hadn't changed anything the first few days after your conversation about where you stood, or about his seeming vendetta against Ginger, but the more you thought about it, the more it got to you. It had been almost 2 weeks since then, and you'd spent most of the second one lying to him. Telling him you had to call Eggsy, or your mum, or that you had to work late to get some paperwork done for Merlin.

Tonight had been no different - it was a Friday, the last six of which you had spent at Jack's. You'd given him some ridiculous waffle about timezones and reporting to the Kingsman. He had seemed to believe it; if he didn't, he'd chosen not to comment on it.

You were sat in your shared office, heels kicked to one side and feet propped up on the table. There was a glass of wine in one hand and your phone in the other (you were exchanging memes with Eggsy), and an episode of the The Crown playing on your computer. It was a nice way of getting your mind off of the situation with Jack, and the fact that you had a mountain of Calahan-related paperwork.

"So, this is the important meeting that you ditched me for?"

You froze at the sound of Jack's voice. He was leant against the doorway, arms folded over his chest and a look on his face that didn't seem too far off of pissed. Your first instinct was to lie, but the urge quickly faded. What was the point? He'd already caught you in one. Might as well just rip it off like a band-aid.

"I lied."

"That's clear as fucking day." Jack shot back. "Am I boring you all of a sudden?"

"Jack." You sighed. "I just needed some space to think."

"I thought we were good?" His brown eyes fell to the floor. "What's with all the lying? I admire your brutal honesty."

"I was only brutally honest with people I didn't mind hurting." You paused your laptop, pulling your feet down from the desk. "I care about you and I don't want to hurt you-"

"- I have pretty thick skin." He cut you off. "Be honest - you have my blessing."

"I thought I was okay with how intense things were getting," you began. "But the more, I think about it, the more I'm not sure."

Jack's face fell. "That's why you've suddenly been distant these past two weeks, huh?"

"Yeah." You nodded.

"What brought this on?"

You were silent.

"I know." Jack sighed. "It's the thing with Ginger, isn't it?"

"Not just that." You said. "You asked me to trust you and I agreed to, but I'm not sure I do."

"What have I ever done to make you not trust me?"

"Nothing, but that's my problem." You replied. "This is all on me."

"It sure as hell is." He sniffed. "If you want space, I'll give you space. Just don't count on me to be here when you get back."

The tension in Champ's office the following morning was almost fucking suffocating.

The poor man had no idea what had gone down between the two of you. Heck, even you were struggling to understand it. You'd got yourself into situations before with your tendency to overthink, but this one might have taken the cake. Relationships - or whatever the hell you and Jack had going on - had never been your area of expertise, and you had no idea how to navigate your situation. It had seemed like a good idea to act on your doubt and be honest with him, but now you were just worried that you'd ruined it.

"You two are making excellent progress with your mission to get Calahan." Champ said.

"Thank you, sir." Jack nodded.

"We need to discuss the matter of when you catch him."

"I appreciate your faith in us, but if we catch him, rather than when we catch him might be a little more realistic." You replied.

"I'm not certain of many things, but I am absolutely sure that you and Jack have this in the bag." Champ shot back. "And when you do, I'm afraid there is only room for one name on the arrest forms."

You sat up in your seat. "What do you mean?"

"I know that you two have made a completely join effort in this matter." He began. "But as far as Interpol, and every international agency has seen it, only one person's name can be on the paperwork."

"But we can both take credit, right?" You urged. "Surely, they can recognise us both for our work."

"I'm afraid not, Percy." Champ sighed. "The paperwork can only be processed under one name-"

"- why?" Jack cut him off. "I mean, why, sir?"

"Traditionally, only one agent would go into the field, to keep the casualties as low as possible." He explained. "Things have changed in practice but on paper, things still stand."

"So what are we meant to do?" You asked.

"You'll have to decide between yourselves who gets that recognition." He replied.

"Right." You murmured and stood up. "Thank you, sir."

Champ gave you a nod. "And you, agent. I'm sorry it has to be this way."

Me too, you thought.

You stalked out of Champ's office, Jack hot on your heels. If things had been a little tense before, they were going to be strangling now. The cowboy was already hurt by your revelation from the night before, and now, that was only going to get worst, because there was no way in hell that you were about to give the reins over to him. You'd make it clear from day one that your job came first, so that shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone.

Heels clicking loudly against the floor, you sped up slightly in an attempt to lose him. It had been foolish, though, because before you could sprint into the ladies' room, Jack grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to the side.

"Lying to me and running away from me?" He asked. "You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."

You swatted his hand away and puffed out your chest. "I'm taking credit for Calahan."

Jack thinned his eyes at you. "We should talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about." You said. "I chased his ass all the across the Atlanic and I've been working on this project longer than you. Personal feelings aside, it makes sense."

"It sounds like you're saying you've done most the work."

"That is what I'm saying."

"I've done most the physical work." He shot back. "The chasing, the jumping over walls, the field work."

"None of which you could have done without me."

"Is this because of what I said last night? Are you mad?" He asked.

"No, I'm mad because you know how much this means to me!" You shoved him. "A win like this is all I've ever wanted. You know that!"

"It means a lot to me too!"

"I am putting my name on those papers." You snapped. "I've spent my whole life living in the fucking shadows at Kingsman and I'm tired of it. This is my win."

"With an attitude like that, I don't blame the damn redcoats for wanting to keep you in the shadows."

Your mouth fell open. If that had come from anyone else, you could have dealt with it. But Jack? The man who had always encouraged and loved your fire? The man you'd opened up to about how suffocated you felt at Kingsman? It was though he'd thrown your trust right back in your face.

"Wait, I didn't mean that-"

"- fuck you, Jack."

Drinking was, essentially, the thing that had gotten you into this whole situation in the first place. It was this very bar, in fact.

It was beyond you why you'd gone to Jack's favourite cowboy bar to simmer; probably because it was the closest thing you could get to actually being in his presence right now. Which was quite funny, because if you were in his presence, you no doubt would have decked him right there and then. His stupid fucking words were playing on a loop in your head, and it felt like a punch to your gut every time they circled back around your pre-fontal cortex.

You could have called Eggsy and vented to him, but that would involve recounting the whole story to him. He'd want to whoop Jack's ass for going near you in the first place, and eject him into outer space entirely for his petty jab. God, you missed your best friend.

Despite your anger, you hadn't even drank that much. Maybe a beer, or three - way below the amount you needed to even get tipsy. Drunken rage barely did you favours at the best of times, and right now was definitely the worst of times. It was just that sitting in a bar was a much better alternative to wallowing in your pity, alone in your larger-than-life apartment.

You sighed and took another sip of your drink, glancing over at your phone. There were three texts from Jack; a please call me, a I'll explain everything and a I fucked up, I know. You couldn't help but snort - what reason did he even have for talking to you that way?

With a twenty tossed on the bar and an empty glass, you shrugged your jacket on and began the walk back to your apartment. The air was cold and everyone was rushing around you to get back to their own respective homes. You had never wanted more in your life to go back to yours - your home in London. The one filled with pictures of you and your family, with memories of dumb sleepovers with Eggsy and late nights with your favourite films.

"So you're stalking me now?"

You could't muster up any other words when you saw Jack waiting by your door. Apparently his ignored texts and calls hadn't been a big enough sign.

"I didn't know where you were." Jack murmured.

"I was out." You shoved your way past him. "You can go now."

"We need to talk."

"Not right now." You groaned. "I'm tired, no thanks to you."

"I don't like when things are like this." He continued, following you inside as you unlocked the door. "I can't stand the idea of you being mad at me."

"So why do you do shit that makes me mad?" You shot back.

Jack sighed, leaning against your kitchen earlier. "I shouldn't have said what I did earlier. I was hurt-"

"- you were hurt?!" You snorted in disbelief.

"It fucking killed me when you said that you didn't trust me, sugar." He admitted. "I get why. I've been holding a lot of stuff back from you and I...I don't think it'll excuse my behaviour, but it might at least give you a reason."

"Okay." You murmured.

"I've barely told anyone this, but I trust you." He reached out and took your hands in his. "It's a lot."

"Jack, you don't have to-"

"- I used to be married." He cut you off. You froze at his words. "Her name was Georgia, and we'd been in love since high-school."

"I..." you trailed off. "Used to be?"

"She was killed in a shoot-out during a robbery." Jack's voice wavered slightly. "She was pregnant at the time. I lost two people that day."

"Shit." You murmured. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"It's fine." He replied. "Not your fault, sweetheart."

"Who else knows?"

"Ginger." He said. "She was a friend of mine, long before we were at Statesman. Georgia's best friend, too."

"You're trying to protect her, aren't you?" You glanced up, eyes meeting. "By keeping her out the field?"

"It's a shitty excuse." He half-heartedly shrugged. "She's all I have left of Georgia. The only person who really shares my pain."

Jack was right -- it hadn't been an excuse, but it was an explanation. You couldn't even begin to get your head around the kind of pain he must have felt then, or even the kind he felt now. You'd had weeks worth of deep conversations and late-night talks but he had never, ever even remotely mentioned Georgia, or his unborn child. You couldn't blame him for that. Not in the slightest.

You were struggling to find the words, really. A thousand new layers had just been added to a man you were already struggling to understand.

"That must be a real weight on your shoulders."

"It is." Jack nodded. "But it lifts slightly when I'm with you."

"Really?" You asked quietly.

"Completely." He countered. "That's all I've wanted my entire life -- to feel again, and I do with you."

"That's deep." You tried to crack a joke, to lighten the mood.

"Even if this ends when you go back to London, I'm still grateful." He continued. "You gave me that, so I should give you what you've always wanted."

"A real-life Batmobile?"

Jack snorted, despite the emotional atmosphere. "Your name will have to go on those papers. It should never have even been a question."

"Jack, I-"

"- that's all there is to say." He shook his head. "There'll be other arrests and missions, but I'll never find someone like you."

Without anything to say, you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. That in itself said everything you needed to- thank you, I'm sorry, maybe you don't suck that much, etc. The entire conversation marked a definitive shift in your relationship, and even though it was one that neither of you could quite work out, that didn't matter. You'd thrown yourself back into the deep end, even though you'd been so hell-bent on breaking to the surface just hours earlier.

There was no doubt that it would only complicated the whole let's not fall in love promise you'd made -- but that was something to worry about later, right?

taglist: @b0nnyzz @xremember-me-notx @somenerdyuser @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @javisjeanjacket @phoenixhalliwell @no-droids-on-sunday @paintballkid711 @waatermelon-sugaar @hepburnwritess @haileyybird @xjaywritesx @jabbajambler @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @welcometothepedroverse @wickedmuse

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels x female reader #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #agent whiskey #kingsman imagines

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