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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

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HI SKANK I LOVE YOU! could we um pls get a um flustered!george blurb like allies to lovers? idk wHATEVER YOU WANT WKJSSK I LOVE YOU

@darthwheezely HI SKANK ok so im gonna do a very different kind of allies to lovers n please im sorry if you hate it but i decided to have fun with this 🥰 (also i am sorry that this is so late.... i am still working on my 3k event yikes)

warnings: mentions of guns (laser tag), language

——

Though the laser tag room was dark, you could easily spot the way you were supposed to go. Through the tunnels, sliding alongside the walls, ducking under blocks. It was a routine at this point.

Your teammate George was nowhere to be seen, which was odd considering it usually wasn’t difficult to spot his ginger hair. Especially in a room full of black lights and neon flashes. You needed his help, considering you could hear the distant voices of Charlie and Fred headed your way. There was no doubt they’d shoot you on the spot once they saw you. Now, if only your teammate was around to back you up, that would be wonderful.

“George!” you whisper-shouted, moving behind another box but keeping your eyes peeled around the room, every movement drawing your eyes in that direction. Luckily the movements were mostly lights and mirrors, but it didn’t help the adrenaline pumping through your veins whatsoever.

“What?”

You felt his body press up against you from the side out of nowhere, his gun poking you in the back as you moved closer to duck down. A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you ducked further down.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” you turned to face him, eyebrows raised and a smirk playing on your lips. You noticed the way his eyes widened, shaking his head.

“Gun. Definitely gun,” he let out an awkward laugh, turning his gaze away from you and back towards the pretend battlefield. You heard Ginny’s distant shout of, “you prat!” indicating that she was now out of the game.

“You sure about that?” you scoffed, nudging your hip into his as you brought your gun up, ready to aim at the chest of whoever was about to walk into the room.

George’s body was warm next to yours, almost warm enough to distract you from the aim of the game. He elbowed you in the side, causing you to let out a squeak.

“Focus on the game, yeah?” You could see the tips of his ears under the light, accenting the pink dusting that brushed across his skin.

You let out a laugh and rolled your eyes, “C’mon, how much flirting do I have to do before you ask me out on a date, Weasley?”

You had been casually flirting with George for weeks now. Maybe even months. Point is, it has been a while. And no matter how many innuendos and compliments you threw his way, he never seemed to actually take the hint. He flirted back, of course he did, but only rarely did he show any indications that he actually had plans to make a move. It was driving you up the wall, to be perfectly honest.

“Not the time,” he gave you a quick wink, sending your heart into a flutter, before turning back to his gun, his fingers gripping the trigger lightly and ready to blast one of his siblings. You gazed at his fingers, suddenly wishing that they could be tracing your body, moving across your hipbones, anything.

Before you could respond, Fred made his way into the doorway, immediately finding himself with a blast straight to the chest. The echoing woosh sound indicated that he was now out of the game.

“Ha!” you shouted, standing up from behind the block, finger pointing at Fred, “Gotta be sneakier next time.”

Fred dropped his arms, “That’s unfair.”

You crossed your arms and turned to your partner, grinning. The two of you had managed to eliminate Percy, Ron, Bill, and now Fred.

“We make quite a team, George,” your hand raised, meeting his in a high-five. His hand lingered against yours for a second longer, fingers brushing against your palm as he pulled away. Shivers went down your spine at the subtle contact, making you forget that Fred was in the doorway for a second.

“That we do,” he grinned down at you, moving a tad closer. You could once again feel the heat from his body, sending your heart into a summersault.

“You guys are gross,” Fred grimaced, sticking his middle finger in your direction before making his way out of the room. You chuckled awkwardly as he left, holding up one of your hands.

“I think we only have Charlie left,” you grinned, facing George with a raised eyebrow.

He nodded, pursing his lips, and once again putting his finger on the trigger. You turned away, trying your best to focus on the task at hand and not the hands of the man standing next to you.

You made your way through the room quietly, completely unsure of where Charlie might be lurking. You had heard him and Fred laughing moments before Fred barged into the room and was shot by George, so Charlie shouldn’t be that far behind. This place wasn’t huge but there were quite a few hiding spots, which only added to Charlie’s advantage.

Footsteps behind you caught your attention, and you spun on the spot, gun ready. Charlie stood with a smirk, gun aimed at George. So you took the shot.

Charlie’s vest echoed with the whoosh sound, little lights flickering to indicate he was now out. You had gotten used to the sound by now, but it still sent a thrill down your spine as you watched his shoulders slouch.

“Oi, d’you have cat-like reflexes or something?” he scoffed, letting his arms fall to his sides in defeat.

You let out a shout, “We won! Bloody hell, I would make quite the soldier.”

George put his arm around you, “You really wouldn’t but your enthusiasm is cute.”

“Meet you guys outside then,” Charlie narrowed his eyes at you, shaking his head while letting out a small chuckle, “Sore winners.”

You watched Charlie’s head of hair disappear through the door and you turned to George with a large smile, clapping your hands together and placing your gun on the ground.

He gave you a wide smile before bringing his gun up and aiming the tip to your chest.

“Georgie, we’re teammates. This defeats the purpose,” you furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at him with a confused expression. Why would he go around and shoot his teammate after you guys reigned victorious?

He didn’t answer, instead opting to pull the trigger. You felt your vest vibrate as the woosh sound engulfed you. Your heart sunk in your chest and your arms fell limp at your sides.

“Oh, you git—,”

He cut you off by pushing you up against the wall behind you, dropping his weapon and placing both hands on your hips. You could barely let out a squeak before his lips were against yours.

The kiss was fiery, hot, and way overdue. His lips were soft against yours, but the action itself was in no way gentle. His hands gripped you tightly as your hands slithered up into his hair, tugging at the strands and causing a small groan to leave his lips. Your mind was blank, but it was also screaming.

Finally, your mind shouted as you pulled his head closer to yours, having a bit of trouble breathing but so lost in his touch that you could hardly be bothered.

However, George pulled his face away from yours, breathing heavily. His hands didn’t loosen their grip on your waist, not that you were complaining. You didn’t want him to move away any more, his body felt so right pressed up against yours. Sure, it would feel better without the bulky laser tag vests, but it felt nice nonetheless.

“I won in more ways than one,” he smirked, one of his hands sneaking under your shirt and rubbing small circles against your skin.

The door to the room swung open but George hardly moved away. You were a little embarrassed that someone was about to catch you two in a somewhat compromising position, but you were too thrilled to really care at the moment.

Until Ginny’s voice reached your ears.

“We can see everything, you two!”

Bloody fantastic.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley one shot #george weasley blurb #3k event

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thepencilnerd · 4 years ago

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Pasta and Dinner Parties

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

Another eye roll. “The pasta, it’s made from edamame.” Theo pronounces it with a certain twinge of pomposity that would have Percy Weasley reeling. Too many syllables. Vowels too lengthy. “Type of soybean, I reckon.”

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

Draco and Hermione have reached a domestic milestone. They've finally decided to move in together. Draco invites her over for dinner, but what would a little Slytherin hospitality be without some sugar and spice?

Rated M for language and discussions of heavy topics in future chapters

Full fic + updates on AO3

"Luna sent a box of these over, wonderful isn't she?" If lovesick eyes had a picture to accompany the definition, Theodore Nott’s face would be front and center. In his left hand, he held an empty cardboard carton with a sticky note adhered to the front flap.

Simmer for 10 minutes with a sprig of rosemary and a teaspoon of salt. Keeps away the balfspracks.

Blaise rubs his eyes. It’s half-past five and he’s already had it with Theo. Had it. Patience wore down to the bone. Basta. Finite incantatem. In all honesty, he’d gladly throw himself in front of a flying—

A shorter figure crept up from behind. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gives her boyfriend a peck on the cheek, which seems to loosen the wrinkles settling over his forehead.

"Ladies," Pansy jests, mediating the arguments between the two as always. "I'm sure there's more than enough pasta to go around."

"Not pasta," Blaise muttered. He tried to concentrate on the lingering warmth Pansy’s lips left on his face. The poor bloke sounded like he was about to hurl.

At this, Theo rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “Yes, yes, yes, you can flaunt your Italian heritage some other time, now let me work my culinary magic!”

Blaise takes a deep breath. High blood pressure, he remembered Pansy saying. Need to stay calm. "Mate, I love you, I really do, but if you don't tell me what those green things swimming about in my favorite crockpot are, you have another thing coming."

"You used a crockpot to boil pasta?" Pansy’s head popped up from behind Blaise’s shoulder. Her nose wrinkled like she’d caught a whiff of something foul.

“Not pasta.” Blaise was a broken record.

Draco groaned from the living room. The headache from earlier evolved into a full-blown migraine by the time lunch was over. His eyeballs were absolutely throbbing. He jammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as if it would relieve any of the aching. To no avail.

"Granger's coming over in half an hour and we’ve yet to transfigure a dining table." He verbalized his misery in as simple terms as he could. Sitting on the living room couch, he calculated the farthest distance from the kitchen and found himself just a few feet away. Problem with having a small flat. He couldn't find it in himself to raise his voice. Not with the demon baby currently going stir-crazy with a gavel in his skull.

He questioned his level of sobriety when he agreed to this.

Meeting Hermione Granger’s parents had been less stressful than this.

Introducing her to his mother was a Christmas tree full of Christmas presents compared to this.

Sitting in a train compartment with 2nd-year Hufflepuffs sounded more bearable than this.

Why, oh why, did he have to open his big mouth that night?

“Seems proper that I’d at least get to share dinner with them before we move in together,” Hermione shrugged. Her hair was still damp from her—their—shower. Stray curls escaped, framing the curves of her face. Draco loved how her sheets always smelled like her soap. The scent of her shampoo was reserved for the pillowcases.

“Come over for dinner,” he suggested. Quite impulsively, really. “Allow me to treat you to an evening of... Slytherin hospitality.” Draco’s trademark grin served him well. Resting on his side, Draco was propped up on one elbow with no shirt and sheet draped over his bottom half. She wanted to believe he was wearing briefs underneath. He looked absolutely wicked.

Hermione scowled tentatively but surrendered with a smile. Her chest rose before she let out a sigh. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I’d experienced an inkling of that before.” Mirth graced her tone.

The embers from the fireplace bounced off of her bare skin like rays of summer sun; warm and welcoming. Draco’s fingers fondled the strap of her bra, the only thing she was wearing, and earned a breathy giggle from her. Tugging the lace down, he sat up and started pressing a trail of kisses along her skin. Goosebumps erupted where his lips traced her flesh. The bath had stained her skin; she tasted of rosewater and honey.

Hermione let out a hmph and tried to focus on the book she was holding. She developed a knack for knowing when he craved attention. Whenever Draco came over, he turned into a literal child. Always nagging and begging for her every time he got the chance. If she wasn’t superglued to his side, Hermione would bet a million galleons he’d throw a fit.

“Turn around and face me instead. I don’t fancy being smothered by your hair while we sleep.”

“How do you turn on the stove?”

“Granger, help me fix the antenna!”

“Could you take a look at this spot on the back of my head? I might be balding.”

“Granger, I think I nicked myself on the aluminium.”

“If you weren’t wearing so many clothes, we’d probably warm up faster. Becoming a pair of popsicles isn’t exactly on my bucket list.”

This time around, his demands were very clear.

“Pay attention to me.”

Hermione’s eyes shot up from her book. Shock painted her features like a splash of cold water.

She blinks once. Twice. Three times for good measure. And then, her lips break into a blinding smile, pearly whites and all. The corners of her eyes curl into half-moons and her whole body shakes with glee.

Sweet Merlin, he was fucked.

Setting her book down on the nightstand, Hermione sits up straight and looks at Draco expectantly. He sits unmoved beside her. Staring. Admiring. Waiting. The cheeky grin that etches into her face is one Draco would give the world to see every day.

Draco leans back against the headboard and stretches his legs out towards the foot of the bed. Scooting closer to her, she flips her leg over his awaiting lap. She’s straddling him in the span of two seconds. The feel of her bare flesh against his is utter bliss.

Her arms wrap around his neck like a koala bear and her head nestles into the crook of his neck. Despite lathering him in her soap, he still smelled like Draco. All these years of dating and she still couldn’t put her finger on the bevy of aromas.

Draco mirrors her actions like a reflection, one and the same. His arms make her feel so incredibly small when encased in them. Like a bear cub. Or a kangaroo in a pouch. Maybe mammals would be an appropriate term to generalize how warm and safe she felt in his embrace, but it wasn’t the most attractive or poetic—

“I thought we finished showering earlier,” he sighs into her hair. “Why is there steam coming off your head?”

She blows a puff of air into his neck and he jolts at the sensation. Ticklish. Draco knew that secret would die with Hermione and she was honored to keep it. Unless it served her in times of duress.

“I was just thinking about how safe I am when I’m with you.” The tip of her nose brushes against the junction above his throat and feels his heartbeat, delicate but strong.

Da-dum.

Pulling back, he slides his left hand along her cheek and she leans into it like second nature. Hermione raises her right hand and cradles it over his. The way it pales in proportion almost makes him break into laughter. When she presses open-mouthed kisses down his bare wrist, Draco resists the urge to take her right then and there. It’s too perfect of a moment to ruin. Not tonight.

She’s even more tender when her lips reach his scar. The marred flesh that takes him back to his inescapable past. A reminder of everything wrong he’s been taught since childhood; everything bad in this world; everything wrong he’s done throughout his entire life.

But more importantly, it’s a symbol of how much good was left in this dismal world.

It’s a battle scar that reminds him that he lived.

Something that motivates him to keep trying.

A reminder of how despite being swallowed by the darkness that plagued the world, he chose to hold onto light.

A reminder of how above everything, he chose Hermione and Hermione chose him.

He takes a moment to look at her, really look at her, and melts.

Hermione is a vision actualized. He sees the dreams and aspirations swirl about her irises in flickers. Roaming freely and always there when you needed them. He wants to bask in them. Relish in them. In her. For as long as she’ll keep him, no matter how infinitely small or finitely large. He’d burn through galaxies if it meant seeing her happy and safe. Anything and everything he could provide for her was his to offer. She need only ask.

Draco Malfoy was wholly and irrevocably head over heels for Hermione Granger.

Magic and might, save him.

No really, save him.

What the bloody hell was that infernal yapping?

"I, for one, thought it would be better to go to an Italian restaurant, but Blaise here," Theo quipped. “—wanted to dish out his non-existent cooking skills,” He paused to stir the pot. “At least Luna was kind enough to—”

Blaise stomped his foot on the kitchen tiles. Miracle they hadn’t cracked yet. There was no point in trying to hide his tantrum. “Just because my ancestors were Italian doesn’t mean I’m a master chef!” He narrows his eyes. “Honestly Theo—” The words die in his throat when Theo fishes out a noodle from the pot. Maybe it’s just his eyes playing tricks on him but he swears it flipping wiggles. “What in Merlin’s great magical kingdom is that abomination and why the ever-loving fuck is it green?”

Pansy gave his cheek a pat. “Colorful, Blaise. Truly”

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

A crash echoes from the kitchen and Theo lets out a screech that rivals grindylows.

Pansy takes a long, calm sip. Likely pumpkin juice. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if it were laced with some pre-appetizer spirits. How she managed to deal with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum was beyond him. Hell, he needed some right about now. At least to dial down the nerves. Not to mention the spike in blood pressure provoked by his flatmates.

The remaining minutes pass like clockwork and before he knows it, the front door dings. Never has a bell sounded more menacing than now. Why is he so nervous? She’s met them a few times before and they’ve definitely shared rounds of drinks. No doubt, gone to Diagon Alley with Parkinson, Lovegood, and Weasley. The tolerable one.

Did he clean his room?

Theo promised to dust right after tea but the bloke was delusional about everything except Lovegood. A bit poetic, not that Draco ever cared to admit it.

Pansy and Blaise stopped by the market yesterday and restocked the pantries and fridge.

And then Luna dropped off her bag of goodies this morning.

“She’s early.” Theo stuck his head out from the kitchen. Why was he covered in flour?

So many questions. Draco didn’t even care to know the answers to half of them.

“She’s always early when she’s excited.”

The three stooges stand shell shocked and stare at Pansy. They just stare.

She blinks like an owl and shakes her head. “Honestly, are you three just going to stand there or is someone’s boyfriend going to get the door?”

Draco’s brain registers the words too late for his liking. He’s dead sober but his brain is all fuzzy. Just as she’s about to knock for a second round, Draco’s feet propel him to the door so fast a whip of apparition cracks.

The door clicks open to reveal a dazzling frame. Hermione Granger is, to say the least, an unreal figment of everything good in the world. War heroine, member of the Order of the Phoenix, magical, academic, and practical genius, pure in mind and soul, and his girlfriend. His girlfriend. His. Donning a pair of black leggings and a flowing cream blouse, she’s bundled in a beige trench coat and blush pink scarf. Dark mahogany brown ankle boots boost her height by a few centimeters. Draco still overshadows her by a good head or two. Nevertheless, it’s a thoughtful effort. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.

“Hello—woah!’

Draco’s arms are around her instantly and she’s brought into the house. His broad shoulders envelop her into a cloaked embrace that lets his scent wash over her. He never wants to let go.

Initially surprised at the abrupt shift in balance, Hermione relaxes into his hold within seconds. He still smells like her soap and Draco and… smoking?

“Blaise!” a female voice shrieks. “Don’t just stand there Theo, do something!”

A cloud of smoke—contained by a bubble charm, thanks to Pansy—swirls above the stovetop, large and foreboding. The source? A deep green crockpot placed on one of the burners.

Wait. Why is a crockpot on the burner? Hermione wonders.

“I told you we needed to salt the water and add the rosemary! Now you’ve got balfspracks all over the bloody place!” Theo’s voice changed from panic to mockery. He turned his nose upright and growled in a nasal tone. “‘Oh, salt is acceptable, but rosemary? Unacceptable. A disgrace to all cuisine Italian. May as well—’”

Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. By the end of the day, he’d probably have to ask Hermione to heal his bruises. “Bloody hell…”

“Oh, it’s my fault now, is it?” Hermione realizes Blaise’s name suits him very well. Almost too well. In any other life, he might have been sorted into Gryffindor with that fiery temperament. “Next time we have a guest over, we’re ordering take-out. From Hogsmeade!”

“Someone help me get rid of this burnt pot of—whatever the hell pasta Theo was making,” Pansy gags while trying to contain the swelling bubble. The scent is overwhelming. Something between seaweed and polyjuice. Perhaps a vile mixture of the two.

“EDAMAME!”

“NOT PASTA!”

Draco can’t tell whether he wants to burst into laughter or cry. Maybe he’ll do both. Hermione was there to wipe away the snot or tears, regardless of whichever it would end up being.

Giving him a chase kiss, Hermione placed the gifts in his hands and made her way to the lounge. Draco was going to kill them. He was going to kill them dead.

She pulled out her want and raised it towards the giant orb of smoke, confidence igniting her eyes. Her wand moved as if it were on its own, guided purely by magic and intent with an undeniable essence of Granger. She draws a broad circle that covers the entire room and summons the wisps of smoke like a magnet. The ashy tendrils of burnt food claw their way out of the floorboards and ceiling cracks, latching on for as long as they can before they’re drawn out Aiming towards the ajar door, the coils of smoke and singe are thrown out the entrance with a deafening gust.

A single strand of hair falls out of her ponytail.

She blows it out of her eyes with a single, deliberate puff.

The corner of her lip quirks upwards the slightest.

It’s so fast you’d miss it if you blinked.

If Draco wasn’t so overcome with the urge to skin his friends, he’d dive in there right now and kiss her numb.

The flat has returned to an atmosphere of calm.

“Fucking finally,” Draco mutters out loud. Not intentionally but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise resemble owls; wide eyes, unmoving bodies, twitching necks that swivel side to side.

Theo breaks the silence with something along the lines of a chortle. “Welcome to our humble abode, Granger.”

“Pleasure to have you here,” Blaise adds. His hands are still clenched around Theo’s shirt collar.

Pansy is still trying to catch her breath having inhaled a hefty amount of the fumes. Blaise and Theo had probably tumbled around the living room enough to avoid the thick of it. Still, she refuses to let it impede on her hostess abilities.

“Hermione!” Pansy coughs. “Why don’t you and Draco check out upstairs while—” she pauses to glare daggers at the two boys covered in God knows what, “—we deal with the mess down here.”

Hermione draws out the excess smoke from Pansy’s clothes and hair with a swish of her wand. The next thing she does makes the three boys’ jaws unhinge. They bring each other into a warm hug and laughter rings in the air.

“It’s good to see you too, Pans,” Hermione breathes. Draco was definitely going to have a fit over this later.

Hermione gives Theo and Blaise a shy wave. Hopefully, they’d understand. In any other instance, she’d be more than happy to rid their clothes of the stench. They wouldn’t even have to ask. But this was Pansy Parkinson and if Hermione knew Pansy Parkinson, she knew that the Slytherin would want to drag on punishment as long as possible before even thinking of succumbing to forgiveness.

Hermione Granger’s stubbornness coupled with her Gryffindor loyalty?

She’ll be damned if she lets either waver when surrounded by friends.

Draco clears his throat forcefully and offers his arm. “Upstairs then, shall we?”

Hermione loops her arm through his and grins. It’s contagious and Draco already feels his anger ebb into affection.

She speaks almost as lightheartedly as the wand movement for a levitation charm. "We shall."

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione imagine #draco x hermione #theo nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #dramione fanfic #incorrect dramione quotes #hermione x draco #post wizarding war #crack fic #dramione headcanon #harry potter #hp quotes

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thejudgingtrash · 4 years ago

Text

Spy! Assassin! John Wick!Percy Jackson

TW: violence, death, guns

Alright. A very John Wick inspired spy/assassins headcanon because I love you Dil @perseusjacksonlover. Sorry for the delay :(

Watch the John Wick movies if you’re of age! They’re just excellent action movies and the world and setting is AMAZING. No need for explanations, either you get it or you don’t. Will I rewatch them now? Yes I will!

He doesn’t know how old he was when he was taken from his mother and brought to his father. He knows her name and the curvature of her smile and the rest had to be forgotten. Kept in a past deep locked up. Don’t show emotion, don’t show weakness. Forget what has happened prior in your life.

He was twelve when his father, a head of the organization, demanded that he’d join them. Some say it’s a school, others say it’s a summer camp. As long as the officials don’t detect it, it doesn’t matter. His guide has the codename Chiron. Everything is coded and based off the very principle of ancient heroism. Every new arrival gets to chose their own name with intricate meaning. Leave the old one in the past. Burn it. He chose his. Perseus. To destroy.

Friends at camp? What are friends? The people that will stab you in the back if needed. There are few that can make it and everyone has no issue pushing people off the cliff if it means they can come closer to their goals. His cousin that he kept close (Codename: Thalia) was impaled at the age of fourteen. No friends. No feelings.

The rules are simple. Win or lose. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. The mortality rate is high among kids. Fractured or broken bones occur daily. Being emotionally scared is everyone’s burden. Someone’s head getting blasted away happens at a bimonthly rate. The scars get paler over the years.

Kids train every single day. Be invisible, be soundless, be the shadow merged with the darkness. From picking locks to breaking into buildings protected by the state. Strategical planning, tactical maneuvering, gun shooting and even older weapons or at first glance non-lethal tools (uh… John Wick and the pen, anyone?). Combat sport like wushu, taekwondo, krav maga, boxing, etc. Also old weaponry. From swords, daggers to spears. Everything in a room could be used to decimate the opponent. Room included.

Also social/soft skills. Languages, geography, dance, art and history. Modern politics. Learn how to use charisma, the art of manipulation, and coercion. The masterwork of intimidation. Break someone’s spirit with the power of one word or one glance. A smile can sometimes be deadlier than a bullet.

Once of age, Perseus is set out for his first mission. A cousin of his father’s. He is given two weeks and seals the deal in two days without a scatch. The suit remained free of any blood. He immediately shows everyone in the game that he is one of the best. He makes a small fortune in a short amount of time and lives a very comfortable albeit a bit lonely life.

Know your value and know your price. If you’re one of the best, demand the best.

Also uniforms. I don’t care how or what you look like. You’re wearing A FUCKING SUIT when you’re showing up for work!

(Designers: Alexander McQueen & Ralph Lauren. I’ve actually an entire spy suit folder saved up, fuck me)

The ways of the organization are in the open. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a part of them or not. The rules apply to everyone. If someone offers you a mission to observe/kidnap/torture/eliminate/etc. another person, you have one shot at negotiation or the mission will get past to the next person. Missions are either proposed privately or are open in the network for everyone. Competition is fierce and the stakes are high. Be the very best. The only thing to worry about: don’t die.

Nearly a decade later, Percy has a daytime job as a lawyer (you gotta keep the facade up). He received a call at work.

Percy was summoned by his old teacher and master Chiron. The old lover of another head of the organization (Codename: Athena) had debts he refused to pay.

“What can I do for you?“ smiled Perseus as he saw into his old mentor’s eyes. Chiron pulled up a photo.

“Someone refuses to pay me back. Frederick Chase. I thought we were friends. Too bad,“ the old man sighed. The years of training put a weight on his body. He was now sitting in a wheelchair, was retired and enjoyed the fruits of his hard labor of decades of training new soldiers. Mostly. Perseus took the picture and a closer look. It was two weeks old. A middle aged blond man held the door of a black limousine open a younger girl. Blonde princess curls, an otherwise pretty face if it wasn’t for the annoyance in her gray eyes. They were unaware of the picture that had been taken and the spionage.

“I want her. Her name is Annabeth Chase. His daughter. She’s been sheltered.“ Someone that wasn’t officially introduced into the organization but knew about the logistics.

Perseus nodded.

“She’s in New York and is about to leave for Los Angeles in less than four weeks,“ explained Chiron.

“How much?“ Perseus asked.

“300,000,“ Chiron proposed. “500,000 if you bring me her head in the next two weeks. I need to make a statement. A lot of money has been wasted. Too much money.“

Perseus gave Chiron the picture back and said one thing.

“Consider it done.“

Do I smell a future fanfic?

Oh boy I DOOO

Hope this was interesting, Dil!! :>

#pjo #pjo au #one day it will happen #Percy Jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo headcanon

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

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Written In The Stars CXXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Anyway pls enjoy while it lasts -Danny

Words: 4,766

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Chapter Twenty-Seven: SNEAK.

Schoolwork was finally catching up with Mel's restless schedule.

March turned into April, and she still didn't have the courage to break up with Fred (it was his birthday! She couldn't do it then, could she?), part of her kept hoping she would miraculously wake up one day completely in love with him.

The day when they were supposed to teach the D.A. how to conjure Patronuses arrived, and Erick was there to learn. He would usually stay outside, making sure Malfoy and other Prefects would stay away from the Room of Requirements, but the idea of being capable to conjure a Patronus had been tempting enough to lure him in.

For some reason, his presence intimidated and confused those students who had never interacted with him. He was slightly feared, which he'd always dreamed to be (and the reason why Mel would worry about him from time to time). Still, he didn't let this influence his behaviour. He was conceited, yes, but not an idiot (though he seemed to be struggling to hide his disdain towards Smith and some other boys).

"You're doing great," Mel told the group when the first students managed to create their Patronuses. "Really, it took Harry and I several tries to get a corporeal Patronus!"

"Yeah, but they're doing it in a fully lit room and with no threats," Harry said logically. "It'd be harder under attack..."

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy," Cho said, happily watching her swan-shaped Patronus. "They're so pretty!"

"They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you," Harry insisted. "What we really need is a boggart or something; that's how we learned, we had to conjure a Patronus while the boggart was pretending to be a dementor —"

"But that would be really scary!" said Lavender.

"Well, dementors are scary," Mel responded. "Is not like playing with puppies, you know?"

"This is just as exasperating as taking care of one though," Erick grumbled, struggling to conjure the faintest mist. "I can't believe it, I usually don't struggle to get something done..."

"Don't worry," Lavender huffed. "I still — can't — do it — either!"

Mel thought that maybe it had to do with the fact that he didn't have enough happy memories, but the idea was dark, and saying it in front of everyone would do nothing to help him, so she kept it to herself. He wasn't the only who was having trouble with it anyway, which kept him from getting truly frustrated. Neville was so focused that his face was slowly turning purple.

"You've got to think of something happy," Harry said patiently.

"I'm trying," said Neville weakly.

"Think of the time you fought Crabbe and Goyle during our first year," Mel offered.

"I ended up unconscious!"

"Yeah but it was cool!"

"Guys, I think I'm doing it!" Seamus exclaimed, this was his first D.A. meeting too. "Look — ah — it's gone... But it was definitely something hairy!"

"They are sort of nice, aren't they?" Hermione said, dreamily staring at the otter floating around her.

"Shit," Erick lowered his wand, looking exhausted.

"That language isn't appropriate for a Prince!" Mel taunted, some of the Slytherins snickered. "You'll get there, don't worry..."

Erick opened his mouth to speak but was soon interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Dobby rushed over to Harry and tugged the edge of his robes.

"Hi, Dobby! What are you — what's wrong?"

"Harry Potter, sir..." Dobby looked terribly shaken, "Harry Potter, sir... Dobby has come to warn you... but the house-elves have been warned not to tell..."

"What's happened, Dobby?" Harry caught Dobby before he could run headfirst into the wall to punish himself.

"Harry Potter... she... she..."

"Who's 'she,' Dobby?" The boy caught Dobby's fist, stopping him from punching himself too. "Umbridge?"

Dobby nodded.

"What about her? Dobby — she hasn't found out about this — about us — about the D.A.?"

Dobby squirmed on Harry's arms, nodding, but it was barely noticeable.

"Is she coming?" Harry asked in a quiet, panicky voice.

Dobby broke, he started to kick around faster.

"Yes, Harry Potter, yes!"

Harry looked at her, both thunderstruck, then he looked around.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" He shouted. "RUN!"

"Erick..." Mel rushed over to him, but he didn't let her finish.

"I'm on it," The older boy picked up his things and gathered the Slytherins, who obeyed without saying a word.

Mel ran to the door and guided the younger students, pushing them out of the room without caring about sending them in groups of three or four.

"Spread around the castle!" She yelled. "Don't stop until you reach another floor!"

"Guys, come on!" Hermione urged them from the middle of the crowd.

Harry carried Dobby outside, Mel was the last one to leave.

"Dobby — this is an order — get back down to the kitchen with the other elves, and if she asks you whether you warned me, lie and say no! And I forbid you to hurt yourself!"

"Thank you, Harry Potter!" The elf replied, rushing out of the scene.

Mel and Harry both ran to the right, she didn't know where she was heading, but she needed to be far away from that hall soon.

"AAARGH!"

Harry fell forward and she jumped over his body, but she made the mistake to stop, thinking that he'd tripped. Then she heard Malfoy's laughter.

Something cold ran down her back when she noticed Erick had stayed behind as well, waiting for them to leave, or maybe just making sure he could buy time. Either way, he was blocking her way out, he pulled out his wand and pointed directly to her.

"Trip Jinx, Potter!" Malfoy said. "Hey, Professor — PROFESSOR! I've got one!" Then he noticed Erick had cornered Mel. "What are you waiting for? Disarm her!"

Mel looked at Erick and she knew they had to keep the act going, they needed Umbridge to trust him. The girl moved the hand that was holding her wand without actually doing anything, giving Erick enough time to get her. Mel was pushed back roughly by the force of his spell. She landed on her hand and something cracked, causing her to hiss in pain, behind her Harry yelped too.

"It's them!" Umbridge said with delight. "Excellent, Draco, excellent— Oh, Mr Flint! Very good — fifty points to Slytherin for each of you! I'll take them from here... Stand up!"

Mel had to take a moment, the way her wrist was pulsating was highly painful. Erick got closer and snarled. "Are you deaf? Stand up!"

He seized her good arm and pulled her up roughly, Mel looked up to him and noticed a flash of concern in his eyes. He clearly hadn't planned to hurt her that way, but this was good, it looked genuine.

"Don't touch her!" Harry roared, trying to push Erick out of the way.

"Stop there, Potter!" Umbridge yelled.

Mel swallowed her tears and snatched her arm away from Flint's grip.

"I can walk on my own."

Umbridge grabbed Harry by the arm and then did the same to her, only that she caught Mel's injured wrist and the sudden movement caused her to cry out in pain. Harry jumped into action once more.

"Stop!" He tried to stand between her and Umbridge, but the woman ignored him, pulling Mel closer without caring for her hand.

"You two hop along and see if you can round up anymore of them," Umbridge told the boys. "Tell the others to look in the library — anybody out of breath — check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girls' ones — off you go — and you," She said sweetly, staring at Mel and Harry as if they were lovely presents she couldn't wait to rip apart. "You can come with me to the headmaster's office."

"I'll take the library, I'll tell Daphne to check the bathrooms," Erick said. Mel was infinitely thankful for his quick thinking, it was highly likely that most of their friends had hidden in those places.

Without waiting for Malfoy's reply he left, Mel and Harry got dragged to the Headmaster's office.

The office was full of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking backward and forward on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard Harry did not recognize with very short, wiry hair were positioned on either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.

The portraits of old headmasters and mistresses were not shamming sleep tonight. All of them were watching what was happening below, alert and serious. As Harry entered, a few flitted into neighbouring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbours' ears.

"Well," Fudge said with unpleasant victory in his voice. "Well, well, well..."

Harry threw daggers at him with one sharp, dark look. He was rubbing his wrist, the same Mel had broken.

"They were heading back to Gryffindor Tower," said Umbridge with too much excitement. "Malfoy and Flint cornered them."

"Did they?" Fudge smiled. "I must remember to tell Lucius and Solomon."

She almost wanted to laugh, Mel knew for certain that the last thing Mr Flint would expect to hear from the Minister would be praises about his younger son.

"Well..." the man continued, "I expect you two know why you are here?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, his eyes were shining defiantly, which meant he was ready to confess. Dumbledore shot one warning look and Harry changed his answer at the last second.

"Yeh — no."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No," said Harry and Mel at the same time.

"You don't know why you are here?"

"No, we don't," said Harry.

Fudge looked away for a moment, Dumbledore then sent the shortest nod their way. He needed them to lie. Okay then, she would give her best act.

"So you have no idea why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"

"School rules?" said Harry. "No."

"If anything, I'm pretty sure Flint broke my wrist," Mel stated.

"Ministry decrees?" Fudge pushed forward, ignoring her comment.

"Not that I'm aware of," said Harry, then he looked at Mel.

"I don't think studying is against the law?" She replied.

"So it's news to you, is it, that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?" Fudge's voice trembled at the end.

"Yes, it is," said Harry, slightly raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"I think, Minister," said Umbridge, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."

Mel's chest tightened. An informant? Someone had betrayed their trust?

"Yes, yes, do," said Fudge. As Umbridge left the room, he looked back at Dumbledore. "There's nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?"

"Nothing at all, Cornelius," The Headmaster agreed. "But also, I'd say there's nothing like a healthy student. Will you please allow me to fix Miss Dumbledore's wrist?"

Fudge looked like he didn't want to, but he saw the way her wrist was looking and agreed that it was too serious to ignore.

"Very well."

Mel walked up to her uncle. Dumbledore flicked his wand, and her wrist moved back into place, she let out a small yelp and heard Harry grunting. Dumbledore conjured bandages and wrapped them around her hand, she was feeling far better. Mel stayed right next to her uncle, and Fudge didn't ask her to move.

"Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Professor Umbridge once she was back, pulling Cho's friend, into the room. "It's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Marietta's mother, Minister, is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation. Floo Network office — she's been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know."

"Jolly good, jolly good! Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to — galloping gargoyles!"

Mel was quick to hide her pleased expression when Marietta showed her face. The word 'SNEAK' was written across her face in what seemed to be a bunch of painful pustules.

"Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge without an ounce of empathy, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister —" Marietta cried out, refusing to speak.

'Good girl,' Mel thought, darkly pleased with Hermione's doings.

"Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him! Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately at that point, this hex came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more."

"How unfortunate!" Mel covered her mouth with distress. "Does it hurt much?"

There was a hint of something in her voice that let Marietta know she hoped that her injuries were hurting badly.

"Well, now,” Fudge said, glancing at Mel with annoyance. "It is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge, you did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?" The girl shook her head and Fudge growled. "Haven't we got a counterjinx for this? So she can speak freely?"

"I have not yet managed to find one. But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take up the story from here. You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter and Miss Dumbledore had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade —"

"Oh, so that's why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets! What an interesting insight into our justice system!"

"And what is your evidence for that?" Professor McGonagall inquired.

"I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired," said Umbridge, and Mel regretted leaving all the preparations on Hermione's hands for that first meeting. If only she hadn't been so shy... "He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me —"

"Blatant corruption!" One of the portraits yelled, causing her to jump. "The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!"

"Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," said Dumbledore shortly.

"The purpose of the meeting with these students was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age —"

"I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores," Dumbledore replied immediately.

"Oho!" said Fudge. "Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter and your niece out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on — Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter's identical twin in the Hog's Head that day? Or was Mel just paying a visit to her grandad? Is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life, and a couple of invisible dementors?"

"Oh, very good, Minister, very good!" Percy laughed.

Mel let out a scoff, but Dumbledore continued calmly.

"Cornelius, I do not deny — and nor, I am sure, does Harry or Mel —that they were in the Hog's Head that day, nor that they were trying to recruit students to a Defense Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal. If you remember, the Ministry decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after their Hogsmeade meeting, so they were not breaking any rules in the Hog's Head at all."

"That's all very fine, Headmaster," Umbridge said brightly. "But we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are."

"Well, they certainly would be, if they had continued after the decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that these meetings continued?"

Mel was used to her senses heightening whenever she felt trapped, after all her training with Dumbledore this seemed like just another natural response from her body. For example, even though Kingsley had acted without speaking and barely moved an inch, she was able to sense up the moment when he threw a spell at Marietta without anyone but her (and Harry, judging by the way he looked at Kingsley out of the corner of his eye) noticing.

"Evidence?" Umbridge continued. "Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"

"Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings? I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight," Dumbledore said in surprise.

"Miss Edgecombe, tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?"

Mel stared at her classmate's empty eyes, knowing she wasn't going to be of use.

"Just nod or shake your head, dear... Come on, now, that won't activate the jinx further..."

She responded by shaking her head.

"I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?"

Marietta shook her head once more, her face expressionless.

"What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" asked Umbridge stupidly.

"I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," Professor McGonagall stated. "There have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?"

The girl nodded. Mel struggled to keep a straight face.

"But there was a meeting tonight! There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter and Miss Dumbledore were the leaders, were they not, they organized it — why are you shaking your head, girl?"

"Well, usually when a person shakes their head," McGonagall continued, "they mean 'no.' So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign language as yet unknown to humans —"

Umbridge grabbed Marietta roughly and shook her. Dumbledore stood up from his desk and raised his wand, Mel tensed, ready to take action. Kingsley moved too and Umbridge jumped back.

"I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore.

"You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," said Kingsley. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble now."

"No... I mean, yes — you're right, Shacklebolt — I — I forgot myself."

Marietta stayed still, quiet as a mouse.

"Dolores," said Fudge, "the meeting tonight — the one we know definitely happened —"

"Yes! Yes... well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind... We needed evidence and the room provided..."

Only then she was glad the Slytherins hadn't signed yet, and she felt a sudden wave of affection for all, they had remained loyal and she would never forget that.

"The moment I saw Potter and Dumbledore's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with."

"Excellent," Fudge smiled. "Excellent, Dolores. And... by thunder... See what they've named themselves? Dumbledore's Army."

Her uncle reached out and took the piece of parchment from Fudge.

How could she be so stupid? It had sounded funny at first, but now she could see how irresponsible it had been to name it like that, how careless of her had been...

Dumbledore looked up, smiling.

"Well, the game is up. Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius — or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"

"What?" Mel blurted out.

"Statement?" Fudge gaped. "What — I don't — ?"

"Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. "Not Potter's Army. Dumbledore's Army."

"But — but —" Fudge stumbled backwards. "You?"

"That's right."

"You organized this?"

"I did."

"You recruited these students for — for your army?" Fudge looked at Mel with genuine terror.

"Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," said Dumbledore. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course."

Marietta silently agreed.

"Then you have been plotting against me!" Fudge said in outrage.

"That's right," Dumbledore continued.

"NO!" shouted Harry. McGonagall and Kingsley looked at him with exasperation. "No — Professor Dumbledore!"

"The group was named after me, not my uncle!" Mel exclaimed, she figured it was better to get expelled than having Dumbledore being dragged to Azkaban. "It's my army!"

"Be quiet, children, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," said Dumbledore without even looking at them.

"Yes, shut up!" Fudge yelled. "I don't doubt you had your own part to play in this, Miss Dumbledore, but well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel a few kids and instead —"

"Instead you get to arrest me. It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"

"Weasley! Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!"

"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"

"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.

"This is ridiculous—!" Mel tried again, but his uncle flashed one warning look that managed to silence her.

"This is the last time I'll ask you to calm down, Mel," He said shortly.

"Very well, then... Duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition! You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial!" Fudge said joyfully as Percy left the room.

"Ah... yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."

"Snag? I see no snag, Dumbledore!"

"Well, I'm afraid I do."

"Oh really?"

"Well — it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? 'Come quietly' I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course — but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."

Five awkward seconds passed in which the adults didn't know if Dumbledore was joking or not. The unknown Auror stepped forward and Dumbledore smiled.

"Don't be silly, Dawlish. I'm sure you are an excellent Auror, I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your N.E.W.T.s, but if you attempt to — er — 'bring me in' by force, I will have to hurt you."

"So you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores, and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?"

"Merlin's beard, no," He said, then he glanced at the girl, but it was so brief that she barely caught it. "...Not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."

"Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!"

"He will not be single-handed!" said Professor McGonagall, grabbing her wand.

"Oh yes he will, Minerva!" said Dumbledore immediately. "Hogwarts needs you!"

It happened fast, but once again, Mel had spent enough afternoons practising with her uncle, and she was ready. Besides, she was so on edge that the magic was almost pouring out of her, ready to burst.

As soon as the Aurors stepped forward, she raised both hands and a banishing charm shot out of her without saying the words out loud. It forced a wave of energy out of her body, throwing everyone back in the air the same way Erick had thrown her back in the hall. A silver flash surrounded them with a loud bang. The floor trembled under her feet, and dust went up, blurring her vision.

"Are you all right?" said Dumbledore over the raucous.

Mel was shaking, she'd never tried to do such a powerful charm on purpose before, but it had worked splendidly.

"Oh no!" She exclaimed, rushing up to Harry and McGonagall. "I didn't mean to be so aggressive! Please tell me you're okay!"

"Yes!" said Professor McGonagall standing up and helping Harry and Marietta to do the same. She was staring at Mel with genuine astonishment. "I see your lessons are working, Miss Dumbledore..."

"Yes, it was a remarkable work," Dumbledore agreed. "It's fortunate that they can't phantom the possibility of a young witch being able to do spells of this magnitude, I'll just change their memories a bit. Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious.

He was remarkably quick on the uptake, modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory like that while everyone was looking the other way — thank him for me, won't you, Minerva? Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate — you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember —"

"Where will you go, Dumbledore? Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh no. I am not leaving to go into hiding. Fudge will soon wish he'd never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you..." Dumbledore, for the first time, didn't look nice in the least.

"Professor Dumbledore..." Harry spoke, but the old man didn't let him finish.

"Listen to me, Harry, you must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams — you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me —" Dumbledore grabbed Harry's wrist. "Remember — close your mind —"

Once again pain shot up Mel's forehead, and both Harry and she hissed at the feeling. Dumbledore ended his sentence as a whisper.

"— you will understand."

Fawkes lowered until Dumbledore was able to reach him. Once his hand closed around the phoenix's tail, a new flash of fire blinded them, then Dumbledore was gone.

"Seriously, I need to know how does he do that!" Mel frowned, rubbing her forehead.

"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, abruptly coming back to his senses. "Where is he?!"

"I don't know!" Kingsley grunted, standing up.

"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" Umbridge exclaimed. "You can't inside this school —"

"The stairs!" Dawlish ran off, followed by Kingsley and Umbridge.

"Well, Minerva," Fudge sneered. "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."

"You think so, do you?"

"You'd better get those three off to bed," said Fudge, looking very displeased about not being able to expel her and Harry.

"You know, Minister," She heard Phineas Nigellus say as they left the room. "I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts... but you cannot deny he's got style..."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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spunky-89 · 5 years ago

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Broken Ship

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first part of the Titans!Jason Todd fic. If everyone likes it I will add the second part and maybe turn it into a series... So let me know what you guys think!!

P.S. special shout out to @whatamidoing-com and @grandeftmarvel for being the ones to actually make me motivated enough to post this ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Part Two

🌊 🐦 --------------------------------------------------------------- 🐦🌊

(Y/N) was laying down on the lounge chair she had dragged to the roof a few days ago. She groaned and then added, “I don't know what to do Neeks,”

The boy standing over her rolled his eyes but indulged her. It was kind of his job as her best friend.

“What is your heart telling you?” He asked.

“That you give shitty advice,” She grumbled, hoping he was going to be more helpful.

Nico sighed and gave her a look. “(Y/N),” he said, using that tone a mom would use to tell you not to be stupid. But since she was a sasshole, she just kept being sarcastic. So she responded by copying his tone while saying his name. And then he shoved her off the chair. She groaned again but stayed there, too deep in her own head to care.

“Seriously, what is stopping you from trying?” He asked, shaking his head at the dumb girl in front of him. He very well knew that if she really didn’t care, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. She would have broken out and headed for the ocean, disappearing before they knew she was gone. But something was stopping her. And he knew that something was the love of her life. Even if she was too stubborn to see it.

When she responded, her words were dripping in scathing sarcasm. “Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that last time we were ‘friends’, he suddenly decided we weren’t, without giving enough of a damn to let me know or to give me a reason.”

He could see the underlying hurt in her eyes. He knew how badly this had fucked her up. After all, he knew all about them before she had even told Percy. He stuck to her side while Percy and Bianca went on the rescue mission. So he saw how happy she was, and how excited she was to get back to him for Christmas. And the next time he saw her, she was a completely different person. Her eyes were colder, her cheery attitude was replaced by a facade of her former self, and most of all, she pushed everyone she was close to away, keeping them at an arm's length. All except him, who refused to accept she was this way now, wanting to keep some semblance of their friendship alive. She healed some overtime, but she was never quite the girl he had first met. The one who promised to be there for him and his sister no matter what. The one who said that he was the little brother she never wanted but loved more than her own.

Looking at her now, he could see a new look. There was that slight spark in her eyes, but it was blocked by the wall she had built so strong over the last four years. And Nico knew, the only one who could ever knock them down, was the boy trying to hide in the shadows, scared to lose his girl once more.

“It's been years, you've changed a lot since then. Maybe he has too.” He tried to gently explain.

“Why are you pushing me about this? Just take me home and let me forget this place and the people in it.” She exclaimed, sitting up and glaring at him.

“Because I care.” He started. He knew he had to be careful with his approach or she would clam up and he would lose the opportunity to talk some sense into her. “You're my best friend and you pushed me when I was scared to give Will a shot. And look how good that turned out. I'm just returning the favor.” He said gently, squatting next to her.

She covered her face and let out a frustrated “Uuuuhhhhgggggg”

Nico laughed at how dramatic she was being. She always said Percy was the dramatic one but in this moment she easily matched him. But he did his best to calm himself fast, knowing the consequences of laughing for too long (last time he ended up in the lake, it sucked).

“Look, take the evening to decide. I'll be here at noon to get you tomorrow.” He said finally.

“That seems unnecessary. Give me five minutes to grab my shit.” She said, her words begging him to take her away, but her eyes conflicted with a need to stay.

Nico sighed and added, “I'm serious. He seems like he really cares.”

“Just because he's listening in doesn't mean he cares. It actually is kinda stalkerish.” (Y/N) pointed out.

Nico rolled his eyes and got up. “Well, you do you. But in my opinion, it’s stupid to sink a repairable ship.”

She gave him a glare and flipped him off as he walked into a shadow on the wall. Once Nico vanished, she got up from the floor and turned towards the door to see Jason step out of the shadows he thought he was hidden in.

“What the fuck was that?”

She ignored him and pushed him aside to head back through the door.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” he said grabbing her arm in an attempt to stop her.

She yanked her arm free and growled, “Fuck off”

He chased her down the stairs back into the main floor.

“I’m not just gonna let you leave!” He yelled as he grabbed her arm “I care about you too much to just let you walk away without trying to fix us”.

She growled and went to punch him, but he blocked her. She started talking as she attempted to land a hit on him.

“You don’t get to stand there and tell me you care! I know you saw me when I came looking for you and you know I saw you. I tried everything to get you to talk to me.” She landed a hit to his side and shoved him into the wall behind him. “So don’t you fucking dare tell me that you fucking care because if you did we wouldn't be having this conversation!”

He righted himself and went on the defense, not wanting to hurt the girl in front of him. He was damn glad the team was out or this would have made this confrontation worse. He steeled himself and started to argue with (Y/N). “Of course I care! Don’t ever fucking tell me I don’t. I stayed away to pro-”

“Don’t you dare feed me that bullshit!” She yelled as she threw another punch to his face, “You know I can take care of myself. So you need a better goddamn excuse if you want me to believe your FUCKING LIES!!!!!”

He caught both her hands and pushed her back to try and put distance between them, even though every cell in his body was screaming at him to hold her close.

“I LOVE YOU DAMNIT! I KNOW YOU CAN HANDLE YOURSELF. I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU.” He screamed.

“YOU KNOW NOTHING! ITS BEEN 4 YEARS TODD, 4 FUCKING YEARS!” She screeched. She went at him again, her attacks were weak and half-hearted, but she needed to let out the tsunami of emotions somehow, she just chose her fists. Tears were welling in her eyes but neither knew if it was from the rage or the pain and sadness.

“I STILL KNOW YOU!” He grabbed her and shoved her against the wall, locking her in place. He knew he shouldn’t yell and scream at her, it would only make things worse. But he was never good at expressing emotion. So he continued to scream back, unwittingly telling her the thing he swore to never tell her.

“I KNOW YOU'RE STILL TERRIFIED OF HIGHTS. I KNOW YOU MOVED IN WITH YOUR MOM AND BROTHER. I KNOW YOU LEAVE TO HIT THE STREETS ALL THE TIME BECAUSE YOU STILL AREN'T ADJUSTED TO HAVING FOUR WALLS AROUND YOU. I KNOW THAT KID ON THE ROOF IS YOUR BEST FRIEND. I KNOW YOU DON'T LET PEOPLE GET CLOSE TO YOU ANYMORE! BECAUSE I NEVER STOPPED CARING, NEVER STOPPED WATCHING YOUR BACK! NO MATTER HOW FAR YOU WERE FROM ME! BECAUSE I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!!”

A moment of silence rang through the hall. Both Jason and (Y/N) were breathing heavily, faces barely an inch apart. The tears were now streaming down her face, and his eyes had a glossy sheen that showed he wasn’t far from crying himself.

“Why?” She breathed, barely willing to break the silence with anything louder. Not moving her face an inch. Her eyes locked on his.

“I don’t know,” he breathed, loosening his grip on her so that he was barely holding onto her as he let his forehead rest against hers.

“Tell me why Jason?” She whispered, her voice cracking from the emotions. “Why did you leave me?”

Her eyes were now pouring out tears, though she didn't make a sound as she looked down and away from the boy who shattered her heart.

He moved his hands from her arms as he cupped her cheeks, wiping the tears away and pulling her face to look back at his, the pain behind her eyes breaking him.

“I think I was scared of losing you.”

“What does that even mean?” she whimpered,

“I cared about you too much, and I felt like I was holding you back from your family.” His cheeks becoming wet as the emotions he had long buried came rushing back. “In my head either you would leave me for them, or you would stay and grow to resent me for keeping you away from them.”

“Oh Jason,” She whispered, lips quivering as her tears never stopped flowing. He looked so broken and she had no idea what to say. It crushed her to find out that he left for her sake. She wasn’t good with words, neither was he. It was something they had bonded over, being able to convey emotions with actions and body language, no words needed. So she decided to go back to that.

She put her hands around his neck, one hand went into his hair, and the other pulled his neck closer to her as she kissed him. The tears were still streaming down their faces, but no words needed to be said. Everything was laid bare in that kiss. The love, the loss, the regrets, the apologies. Jason’s hands shifted as one landed on her waist to pull her closer and the other slid to the back of her head. As he did so she let out a small gasp which he used to slowly slip his tongue in her mouth. They had kissed once before when they were younger. It was the night before she left, neither knowing it was going to be the last they saw of one another for years. That first kiss felt right, but this kiss, it felt like they had found their home, that all was finally right in their worlds.

It could have been seconds or hours they stood there, but neither wanted to leave the other’s embrace. They had to breathe eventually, but when they pulled back it wasn’t far. Her eyes stayed closed as their foreheads rested against each other.

“Stay,” Jason breathed. The warm breath spread over her and she wanted to crumble in his arms.

With her eyes still closed she sighed and stayed quiet for a moment. “I can’t,” She whispered, fresh tears flowing. His grip on her tightened slightly as she spoke those words.

“Why not?” He asked, his voice showing his hurt, “After-after everything we’ve been through, the memories we’ve tried and failed to forget, this moment...Why?”

A small sob left her lips as she pulled and turned away from him. But he didn’t let her get far. She had made it no more than two steps when he grabbed her arm again, and this time his grip was iron-like. She could have broken free, but she didn’t have the strength or the will to fight him. She did, however, continue to avoid his gaze as she cried, never answering his question.

“Tell me why?” he asked again, his voice had a bit more strength and bite behind it. He placed his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him, where he could see the pain and anguish behind her eyes.

“Because I can’t, I-I have responsibilities and a new family...I-I can’t just leave them.” She said, her voice soft and her eyes looked down while she spoke, only looking up for a second when she had finished. Jason knew why she wouldn’t look at him, she knew he’d know she was lying. But he still noticed anyway.

“Look me in the eye and say you don’t want this-us and I’ll let you walk away and I won’t bother you again. But if not, I will fight every day to get you back.” He spoke, his words rang with pain and confidence. Her lips wobbled as she looked into his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll let you leave right now.” His voice came out shaky as he took in the depth of her eyes, the emotions swirling as her face showed her inner conflict. She opened and closed her mouth at least half a dozen times before she whimpered and looked down again.

“I can’t,”

“Then stay, please. I need you.” Jason begged.

She shook her head but made no move to leave his arms again. There were a few tense moments of stillness and silence before she moved. She lunged at him and buried her head in his shirt, her head resting right where his heart was.

“I can’t get my heart shattered again Jason, I can’t. I barely made it through last time. I’m not strong enough to withstand it again.” She spoke through her tears.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” He spoke softly as he pulled her closer and gripped her in a bear hug. “I fucked up majorly but please, just-just give me another chance.”

She pulled her head from his chest and opened her mouth to argue but he didn’t let her. He placed one hand on her cheek and said, “I’ll do better, I won’t pull any more shit like that because having you here the last few days reminded me of how much it hurts every day to not see your face, even when it’s filled with rage and contempt.”

He could see the emotions flashing across her face as she tried to make heads or tails of her thoughts. She looked him in the eye, trying to read him. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t seen each other in four years, she could still read him like an open book. She looked into his eyes and saw the same look she saw every day in the mirror, the pain of losing your best friend and the sincere hardness of a promise. Her heart was ready to beat out of her chest and she knew right then, she would never leave him or let him leave her ever again. She reached up and pulled his lips back to hers. No hesitancy as she did so. Their lips stayed locked as he slowly backed her into the wall again but this time it wasn’t aggressive, no, this was driven by something else entirely.

There was desperation in the kiss this time. They both were grabbing at each other, trying to be close as possible. Jason grabbed her and lifted her into his arms. She was so shocked that he had the strength to do that. But then she remembered they weren’t kids anymore. They were both older and (slightly) more mature.

She barely realized she had wrapped her legs around him. The movement was so unconscious, but like with everything with Jason, her body and his worked in tandem. Her unknowing may have also been due to the fact that she was far too distracted by his tongue wrapping around hers as he explored her mouth. They broke for air and she stared at him, the muscles in his arms bulging as he held her against the wall. She now felt his one hand clutching her thigh and she took a shuttered breath as she felt him pressed completely into her, not a single gap between their bodies. She wasn’t sure what to do but when she looked into Jason’s eyes, she knew. He had his stupidly sexy smirk plastered on his face as she was taking him in, his eyes a few shades darker than usual. She wasn’t alone in this examination as he was taking her in and undressing her with his eyes. It was a look she usually hated, but coming from him, her breath hitched just a bit.

Right then and there, gazing into his eyes, she fell in love with him all over again. She saw her world in those eyes, her future. She wasn’t the romantic type, but at this moment, she would happily go through all the trauma and nightmares she’d dealt with again just to stay in that moment forever.

#jason todd x reader #Jason Todd #titans!jason todd #Titans #curran walters #percy jackson crossover #robin x reader #jason todd x you #IMAGES NOT MINE #picture not mine

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winryofresembool · 5 years ago

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Caleo one-shot: Only Us

Summary: Calypso tries to convince a jealous Leo that he doesn't have to worry about her and Percy.

a/n: Decided to post this here too! Like I said on AO3 (and have said here a few times), I’m still in the middle of reading ToA so this fic isn’t entirely canon compliant, but I still feel like jealous Leo is smth that would probably happen at some point of their relationship so that’s why I wanted to write this fic. Anyways, please enjoy and review! The comments motivate me /a lot/.

words: 1865

genre: some floof, some hurt/comfort

warnings: none

AO3 link: [x]

...

Leo was bored. He had already done everything he had planned for that day – finishing his newest mechanic project, oiling and flying with Festus, helping his siblings, coming up with a new bad joke – but he hadn’t had a chance to spend a lot of time with his girlfriend. He was on his way to the strawberry fields where he knew Calypso liked to spend her time because it reminded her of her home, when he noticed her on the beach. That alone didn’t surprise Leo. The sea was another place she considered home-y, after all. What did surprise him, though, was that she wasn’t alone. She was with Percy. And they seemed to be deep in a conversation.

“I’m sorry about what happened in Tartarus,” Leo heard Calypso saying. “I didn’t mean to curse you… it was a moment of whim and I didn’t think… I mean, it doesn’t excuse it but…”

“Hey, it’s OK,” Percy tried to reassure her, putting his hand on her shoulder for a moment. “You were mad because I forgot to make sure the gods had fulfilled their promise… So I’m sorry too.”

Leo didn’t hear more because as the words sunk in, his first instinct in that situation was to leave. Go and never let them know he had heard any of that. However, his mind was racing with possibilities of what that conversation could have meant, so Leo decided to try to distract himself with the best way he could.

His bunker had been a place that had brought him comfort ever since he had found it almost two years prior. However, soon he noticed that this time even that didn’t help; his hands were working on something he didn’t even recognize while his mind wandered elsewhere. When he stopped for a break, one of his hands started tapping that familiar rhythm he always tapped when anxious. He immediately stopped when realized what he was doing, very conscious of the meaning of the Morse code he had used. Love only hurt, it seemed. Leo had been occasionally thinking how lucky he was to have a girlfriend like Calypso, but he should have known it wouldn’t last. Not when he could offer nothing all the other boys couldn’t. Percy was handsome, strong, tall and funny, and he hadn’t broken Calypso’s table when they met (that was always a bonus). It was only natural she’d like him more.

With frustration, Leo started forming fireballs with his hands and shot the first one into an open water container where it wouldn’t cause dangerous situations. Festus, who had been resting outside the bunker, woke up at the sound of the fireball hitting its destination and when the second ball started flying, he threw himself between the ball and the container and swallowed it, then making a rare hissing sound at the person who had rebuilt him.

“What are you hissing me for?” Leo snapped at the metal dragon, another very rare occurrence. Often Festus was the only one who Leo felt understood him, and in general Hephaestus’ son was very calm and patient with him. That’s how the dragon knew something definitely was wrong with his master. He gave his answer by blowing smoke like a morse code from his nose, probably telling him to stop being stupid.

“Fine,” Leo sighed, sitting down on the stairs next to Festus. “It’s Calypso. I saw her with Percy and… I’m probably being paranoid but seeing them interact like that made me think… what if she falls in love with him again? I’m no match for that guy; you know water and fire are not a good combo…”

Festus made some ticking sounds this time, trying to convince Leo that she wouldn’t do such a thing.

“You seem very sure for something that I built… So, what do you say I should do about this?”

Festus pushed him with his huge snout, almost making him fall.

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell her what I saw. Happy?”

Festus made a sound that sounded a whole lot like a snort, reminding Leo that that was literally what his name meant. Happy.

“That was a bad joke, bud. I can still change your name to something that doesn’t mean happy, you know,” he sassed at the dragon but this time the metal creature made so clear a laughter sound that Leo couldn’t mistake it, challenging him to try. Knowing the dragon had won that battle, Leo decided to return back to the camp and face his girlfriend.

…

When the couple was finally alone later that evening, Leo didn’t have time to mention Percy before Calypso noted his weird behavior.

“Leo, you’ve been so quiet this evening. You didn’t even try to outjoke Apollo at the dinner and that has probably happened… well, never, so far. Is something troubling you?”

Leo supposed that this moment was as good as any to confess what he had seen.

“I saw… you and Percy talking at the beach.”

“Oh…” Calypso thought she knew what was coming but she decided to bite her lip and let Leo speak. If she had learned something about him during all those months they’d spent traveling, it was that if you didn’t give him the opportunity to speak out, he may bottle those emotions inside until near explosion point.

“You were looking pretty chummy out there,” Leo continued, staring at his hands awkwardly.

“I don’t know what that word means but we had a good talk,” Calypso replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “We realized that we both had made some mistakes and… while some scars heal slowly, we decided we’re past that point where we can just avoid each other and act like nothing happened.”

“Was that all?” Leo asked doubtfully.

Calypso didn’t know how she should have reacted to that question. She was torn between annoyed and amused because of Leo’s clear jealousy. She chose the latter.

“Leo Valdez. You really don’t have to worry about me and Percy. We've moved on a long time ago. The way he looks at Annabeth… it’s so obvious he loves her a lot.” Before he could argue something about ‘old salt’, she added: “And… even though he has his flaws… I have met a pretty special person as well.”

“Huh?” Leo finally raised his gaze from hands his with surprise. Calypso wasn’t usually that straightforward about her feelings with him, she preferred showing it with actions rather than drown Leo with sappy words.

Calypso smirked slightly. “You know the one. He broke my dining table the first time we met. Sometimes his jokes are very bad and he’s too sarcastic for his own good. He can be stubborn to the point of it getting frustrating.”

Her expression turned back to serious.

“Worst of all, he has a huge inferiority complex, which means he doesn't see himself the way he should and blames himself for things that are out of his control. He can also get pretty jealous because he doesn’t believe that someone could actually love him.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Thanks. Just what I needed. Salt to my wounds and a reminder of my flaws.”

Calypso raised her voice to stop him, but there was softness in her eyes as he continued.

“Listen to how this story ends, OK? This guy… He's more smart and skilled he realizes. He's taught me so much about the modern world, even some embarrassing things.” She stopped for a moment, remembering a time when they had gone to a clothes store and she had seen modern underwear for the first time, asking about their use.

"Right,” Leo nodded, probably thinking about the same incident.

Calypso continued: “He even knows several languages and has taught me some too, although I’m not sure how useful the Spanish swear words will be to me. He also built an entire battle ship and a mechanical dragon that’s basically alive.” (Festus, who was also nearby, snorted, meaning: ‘basically?’) “Rumor has it he died for his friends so no one else would have to and outwitted the death. Those alone are some pretty cool things. But there’s more.”

For once Leo didn’t know what to say. Never had he heard anyone talk about him like that.

“There are moments when I can see the past coming to haunt him. But even though he hurts, he tries his best to make others smile with his – maybe not always bad - jokes, and it usually works. And…” Calypso brushed a lock of black, curly hair behind Leo’s ear gently, “he came back to get me from Ogygia even though it was supposed to be impossible, even though I admit that I probably didn't give you a lot of reasons to like me… But somehow you saw through my cover and knew that I still cared about you, even though I really strongly tried to fight against it because I had been hurt too many times. When you showed up again… I’m pretty good at concealing my feelings but I actually wanted to cry when I saw you that day. Because someone really cared enough to break through the curse.”

She swiped a couple of tears that had fallen on her cheeks, with her other hand lifting Leo’s chin so she knew he was looking at her. His eyes were burning with emotions he didn’t know how to express.

“Of course I care!” he exclaimed. “Was I supposed to just leave you there after everything you did for me?!”

“Leo… Do you know how many times I had to listen to men promising to come back to me and they never did? I had already lost my hope after Percy and that was why I got so mad when you showed up for the first time. But… when I got to know you better, I think I started sensing that there was something different about you. That you’d really go through enormous lengths for someone you loved. Of course, I didn’t think you’d fall for me because I was acting the way I was, but for once, I got lucky.”

“No, you didn’t get lucky. You deserved it,” Leo said quietly.

“Whatever you say.” Calypso smiled a bit sadly. “Anyway. There are some things we still need to work on. For example, you still have to learn to appreciate yourself more. I can't do that for you… but I can be by your side and support you, as long as you let me.”

“Cal… thanks. I feel pretty stupid for doubting your feelings. Lo siento, for reals. If I do something like that again, feel free to punch me, or whatever. And if someone’s lucky here, that’s me because you’re pretty damn amazing.” Suddenly his face got his usual mischievous expression. “Now, as for those bad jokes...”

Calypso couldn’t help but smirk as well. “Ha, I knew you'd get stuck on that. You idiot. But maybe they are a part of your charm,” she shrugged.

"Wait. You think my jokes are charming?" Leo asked, now sounding a lot more like himself.

"Hush. Or I may change my mind about that," Calypso noted and pulled him for a much needed kiss.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #pjo #my fics

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bushyhair · 4 years ago

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❝ then he said, leaning forward: ‘you’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. tell me: what’s it like to be a woman?’ i took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead. ‘it’s like that,’ i said. ❞ merlin’s beard, what is ( HERMIONE GRANGER ) doing out at this hour? for a ( MUGGLEBORN ) who is ( 47 ) years old, ( SHE ) really ought to know better. you know, i hear that they’re aligned with ( THE ORDER ), but that could be just a rumor. i do know that they’re a ( CIS WOMAN ) and a ( GRYFFINDOR ) alum who works as a ( POLITICAL ACTIVIST ) though. they’re very ( DAUNTLESS ) and ( ANALYTICAL ) but also quite ( VINDICTIVE ) and ( ACERBIC ), which could be why they remind of ( DESPERATELY SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS THE ONLY WAY YOU KNOW HOW – IN A DARK, MUSTY LIBRARY FILLED WITH ANCIENT TOMES WRITTEN IN LANGUAGES LONG DEAD TO MANKIND – BUT NOT TO YOU; A CEASELESS TUG-OF-WAR BETWEEN YOUR BRAIN AND YOUR HEART, BETWEEN RATIONALE AND COMPASSION; THE CELESTIAL HEAVENS THAT YOU CARRY ON YOUR SHOULDERS NOW THAT ATLAS IS NO LONGER AROUND TO BEAR THE BURDEN FOR YOU ). some people say they’re the spitting image of ( GUGU MBATHA RAW ), but i’ve never heard of them. word on the street is that they’re ( THE ERUDITE ) and their prophecy is ( PROPHECY 54 ), but only time will tell if that’s true or not. [ SARAH, 23, SHE/HER, PST ]

parallels: spencer hastings (pretty little liars), elphaba thropp (wicked), annabeth chase (percy jackson), amy santiago (brooklyn 99), sydney sage (bloodlines), beatrice (much ado about nothing), cristina yang (grey’s anatomy), monse finnie (on my block), jal fazer (skins), peggy carter (marvel cinematic universe)

hermione was something of a miracle baby (and a complete surprise). the couple found each other later in life than most, and they’d long since given up trying to conceive as her father was in his fifties and her mother was pushing forty. nevertheless, even though she was unexpected, her parents showered her with love and affection – they had always wanted a baby girl to call their own. hermione would be their one and only.

[ HOLOCAUST TW ] her parents named her hermione after the virtuous queen of sicily in shakespeare’s the winter’s tale and the only daughter of king menelaus and queen helen in greek mythology. her middle name is jean, which is a female variant of the name john, meaning “god is gracious”. i think hermione is, albeit probably unintentionally by jkr, coded as jewish (her appearance, how she faces oppression for her blood by the death eaters/voldemort which are analogies for the nazis/hitler/the holocaust, how she isn’t shown to have a particular attachment to christmas and rarely goes home for the holidays, etc.). thus, i’ve headcanoned that she comes from an interfaith family; her mom was christian and her dad was jewish, and they raised her with both religions with the intention of letting her pick when she grew older. while she is not spiritual and ultimately considers herself to be an atheist, she’s still very proud of her interfaith heritage. anyways, her parents didn’t actually name her jean because of its religious meaning; they named her after jean valjean from les misérables. much like her parents, hermione is also a fan of victor hugo’s work, and that was why she named one of her children hugo.

her father never spoke about how he was a victim of the holocaust, how he almost didn’t survive, how he lost his entire family to the war. sometimes hermione saw the number tattoo on his arm, and her own battle scars felt like they were on fire. her father was a survivor of the second world war, and she is a survivor of the second wizarding war. now more than ever, she understands the trauma, grief, and survivor’s guilt that he tried so desperately to shield her from. it is the same pain that she now carries. [ END TW ]

[ RACISM, BULLYING, AND ANTISEMITISM TW ] there were almost no black children in the posh neighborhood she was raised in, and hermione always felt out of place among her white classmates at the expensive primary school she attended. growing up, despite being upper middle class and an incredibly well-behaved child, she of course still experienced her fair share of racism due to her black and jewish heritage – dirty looks on the street by complete strangers, mean schoolchildren declaring her ugly for not meeting westernized beauty standards (especially when it came to her hair), shopkeepers keeping a watchful eye on her when she entered their stores, adults assuming she couldn’t possibly be as intelligent as her white peers. not only was it demoralizing to little hermione, it was enraging. she developed an overwhelming need to prove herself and her capabilities – she always had to work so much harder than white children to be properly recognized, but every year, she still outperformed everyone else. of course, young hermione was seen as rather swotty, condescending, and insufferable by her classmates, so she was incredibly unpopular. her only friends were her parents, and the one place where she actually felt like she belonged was the library. books were an escape, a refuge. they offered her some comfort in an otherwise comfortless world. little did she know that this world was not truly her world – that there was something else waiting for her.

hermione developed a strict adherence to following the rules and an unwavering respect for authority partly because of the prejudice she faced from an early age. as a young black girl, she knew that if she did not present herself to be well behaved, responsible, and mature – if she ever acted out in any way – there could be a high price to pay. black children were punished (or hurt – or even killed) for very, very little. while she eventually outgrew this behavior as she found her place in the wizarding world, it took her a little time to blossom into the revolutionist that she is today.

when she first came to the wizarding world, she noticed a stark contrast in how she was treated by most people upon first glance. after all, it wasn’t as though blood purists could tell that she was muggleborn simply by looking at her (even though she didn’t realize that was what it was initially). and because of the difference that she noticed, she had hope that maybe – just maybe – this was somehow a world free of prejudice and racism, a world in which she could finally find belonging in. but of course, the wizarding world was not quite as she first thought. there was still prejudice; it was merely towards a different group of people. mudblood. when draco malfoy first spat out that venomous word in reference to her, she didn’t immediately know just what it meant, but she understood well enough. she’d been called slurs before. hermione was once again rattled with that familiar fury. she was top of her year, with an extraordinary amount of power, but still she was viewed by many as inferior. she vowed to prove her worth and become an instrument of change. she would fight for herself, her friends, her parents, the enslaved house elves, and the other muggleborns. if this world tried to tell her she did not belong there either, she would show them all that she did. she would be the best and the brightest – better than draco, pansy, and anyone else who tried to diminish her. and that was just what she did. it wasn’t enough for her though. [ END TW ]

because while hermione might have been a know-it-all who seemed rather confident in her abilities, the truth was that she was deeply insecure and terrified of failure. identified as highly gifted from a young age, this unintentionally placed an insurmountable pressure on her to overachieve in order to measure up to those high standards – to confirm to everyone, including and especially herself, that she really was as intelligent as they all thought she was. and to make matters worse, whether she was in the muggle world or the wizarding world, she always had something to prove. (in fact, she was only able to attend her expensive private school because of the scholarship that was granted to her due to her high marks and test scores. because while she was upper middle class, her family still wasn’t wealthy enough to send her there otherwise.) she somewhat grew out of her insecurities as the years went by – she’s proud of who she is and knows that she’s capable – but some of her insecurities still linger to this day. that compulsive need to be perfect will never truly go away. it’s an innate part of her now.

[ PHYSICAL ASSAULT TW ] even though she is extremely socially conscious and compassionate, she is very much a paradox and can often be abrasive, insensitive, and overly blunt. she’s also far more ruthless than she appears to be at first glance – this is the girl who destroyed marietta edgecombe’s face when she dared to betray the d.a., erased her parents’ memories, set a professor on fire, imprisoned rita skeeter in a jar and blackmailed her, and left umbridge to the centaurs to rot. while she does have a rigid sense of morals, she’s vindictive and will ultimately do what is necessary to achieve the right outcome. she honestly does not regret any of these actions – the ends justified the means in hermione’s opinion. (aka draco malfoy should consider himself lucky she only slapped his sorry arse so hard that he bruised) [ END TW ]

[ DEMENTIA/ALZHEIMER’S AND PARENTAL DEATH TW ] once the dust settled after the battle of hogwarts, after the seemingly endless funerals and memorials, she left everyone behind for a few months to search for her parents in australia and bring them back home. tracking them down took several weeks in and of itself, but once she finally found them, she quickly realized that she had her work cut out for herself. memory magic is an incredibly intricate process because it involves reconstructing the brain, and without proper training, it can easily go awry. she spent many days working on properly restoring their memories, and even after she was sure that she had done it perfectly, something was still wrong. the doctors ended up diagnosing her father with early stage alzheimer’s. although her friends reassured her that it wasn’t her fault, she still blamed herself for this – her father was well past middle aged, but perhaps his mind would not have deteriorated so much if she hadn’t cast those memory charms. she began distancing herself from her parents early on in her school career, opting to spend her holidays with ron and harry instead of trying to fit into a magicless world she no longer belonged in, and she became wracked with guilt and regret for pushing her parents away even if it was partially for their safety and peace of mind. she thought she would have more time than this, years to make up for it all. there wasn’t. a few years down the line, her father finally succumbed to his dementia and passed away, her mother following very soon after. although she died of natural causes, it was almost as though she couldn’t bear being apart from the love of her life, to go on living in a world without him. [ END TW ]

[ PTSD, DEATH, PARENTAL DEATH, GRIEF, PHYSICAL ASSAULT, AND TORTURE TW ] at some point, she returned to hogwarts to complete her seventh year, determined to graduate with all o’s on her n.e.w.t.s, and of course she succeeded because she’s hermione and she buried herself in her schoolwork, very much as a distraction from her grief, her trauma, the diminishing health of her father, and her newfound fame. being a war hero thrust hermione into the spotlight, and at first, she didn’t know how to handle it in the slightest. through time, she came to use her celebrity status to become a voice for the oppressed – house elves, werewolves, other muggleborns – because again, she’s hermione and she wouldn’t be hermione without her vehemence for social justice.

upon graduation, she landed herself a job in the department for the control and regulation of magical creatures. she stayed there for a while before transferring to the department of magical law enforcement. she never considered herself going into magical law when she was younger, but she soon realized that it was the only way she would be able to bring lasting change to a long broken system. for several years, hermione immersed herself in her work as much as she could. it was absolutely a coping mechanism, especially after her parents passed. as always, she was constantly fretting over her loved ones, asking them multiple times a week if they were alright and reassuring them that she was always here if they need a shoulder to lean on, but she hadn’t quite dealt with the fact that she wasn’t alright, not by a long shot. in fact, she was barely holding it together. rather than living, she was merely surviving, and it wasn’t for herself. her work and her friends were the only real reasons she managed to drag herself out of bed every morning. she hadn’t properly grieved the people she lost, and she suffered from petrifying night terrors, and the worst ones were of bellatrix torturing her in malfoy manor. she tried everything to remove or cover her scars from the incident, but as they were magically carved into her by curses of bellatrix’s own creation, she wasn’t able to. eventually, she gave up, deciding she would wear them as signs of her courage and resilience. but there were still those nights where she woke up from a chilling nightmare, wailing and thrashing. she cast muffling charms on her room every night as a precaution. she couldn’t even bear to visit her parents’ graves, too overcome by guilt, knowing in her heart that their deaths were her fault. she didn’t know how to carry that pain.

eventually, she settled down with ron and had two children with him, and slowly, with her two best friends by her side, she started to heal from her war wounds. there was no orderly, linear process to follow, like the five stages of grief. it was messy, and it was hard, but she pushed through it. she sought therapy at the urging of her friends, learning how to better handle her emotions, especially the ones involving grief. it took time, but she learned to live to again. she was able to move on and finally forgive herself. she healed – only for that arduous work to be undone when the third wizarding war started and the world fell into shambles again.

hermione was angry. she was so angry at the world for putting them all through this again. so many people died to prevent another war from happening, and despite her best efforts to make their sacrifices count -- to make it all mean something -- it seemed like it was all for naught in the end. after all, here they were again -- the same fight. always the same fight, with most of the same people.

and then harry died. then harry, her best friend, died for the second time, and hermione’s world shattered into pieces. it was only her love for her family and her vehemence for justice that gave her the strength to move on--but only barely so. she knew that she would never completely heal from it all. the truth was that when harry died, a part of her died along with him. he was not only her first friend but her true best friend (because ron had always been something else, something much more complicated). she considered him to be a brother, and she always did everything she could to help and protect him. she loved him so much, and she would’ve died for him without a second thought. they all would have. his death -- along with her parents’ deaths -- will always be her biggest failures, and she will forever blame herself for them. what good is it – being so smart – if she couldn’t save the ones that she loved the most? once her boggart was failing her exams, but now it is harry and her parents telling her the truth that she already knows – that their deaths were her failure and her fault. of course, this boggart is as irrational as the one she had in her childhood. harry and her parents would never say such a thing. logically, hermione knows this, but she still blames herself all the same – even if they would never, even if it’s not truly her fault.

then, miraculously, harry evaded death once more, coming back to life like the messiah himself -- but at the price of the life of one of her dearest friends. she’s even more furious now, but that anger doesn’t have anywhere to go. ultimately, she knows that even though it was the foolhardy, reckless knights who performed the ritual, the blame rests on the order’s shoulders. they failed their children. they drove them to this. in a way, she truly understands why the knights did what they did because she missed harry with all her heart and would have given (almost) anything to see him one more time, but still, it horrifies her. she wanted him back -- she is so grateful to have him back -- but not like this. not at the price of neville longbottom’s life. this is beyond anything she could have ever conceived. this is an aberration. it should have been impossible. and yet, here her best friend is, alive and (almost) well. she never expected that she would ever have him back, but now when he looks at her without any recognition in his face, she cannot help but be reminded of her father’s death all over again.

in the end, she will keep going on, and she will fight until her last dying breath to protect her loved ones and the world, but she’s so tired. how many times will they all have to fight the same war? how many more people will have to die for them to finally end this – for good this time? will this ever truly be over, or is humanity doomed to make the same mistakes and fight the same wars forever? for the girl who’s supposed to have all of the answers, even she doesn’t know.

it should be noted that hermione has never believed in prophecies or even divination at all, and even now that harry is alive, she still doesn’t. ultimately, she would argue that the reason why harry came back to life isn’t because it was destined in any way but because the knights truly believed in the prophecy and thus made it happen, much like how voldemort marked harry as his equal out of his doing after he heard trelawney’s first prophecy. in a way, it was almost a self-fulfulling prophecy. in the end, hermione doesn’t believe in predestined fate, and she never will. instead, she intends to shape her own future.

edit: also! i forgot to mention that, before the ministry was taken over, hermione was head of the department of magical law enforcement, but when she was thrust out of her position, she made the decision to dedicate herself to the order fully. hermione has never been minister of magic in this verse. although the ministry was never perfect by any means, she was a strong supporter of minister shacklebolt and worked with him personally for many years. ultimately, she was fairly content where she was at before all of this, but who knows what could happen if and when the war ends. [ END TW ]

#rev intros #no graphic this time #i really just want to get this out #it's super rushed oops

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lizziestudieshistory · 5 years ago

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Books of 2020 - March

Enforced isolation made me read a lot... Here are the 10 books I read!

The Way of Kings - Brandon Sanderson (The Stormlight Archive #1) We all know I adore this series - I reread it every year after all. This time I read it to annotate the text and do a proper deep-dive into the world Sanderson is creating in preparation for Rythmn of War coming out later this year.

The Binding - Bridget Collins I still don’t know how I feel about Collins’ book. It’s a historical fiction novel with a subtle hint of magical realism through the concept of Binding - using some form of magic (I’m not entirely sure how) to turn real memories into books. This concept is what made me and my uni friends buddy read this novel in the first place; it sounds fascinating, especially to bookish people like we us! However, this book is not really about book binding - it’s a love story between Emmett Farmer and Lucian Darnay.

If I’m honest the part two, which covered the original courtship of Lucian and Emmett, was the most interesting section of the novel. I thought their relationship was a bit cringey (as befits teenagers) and incredibly sweet. The romance made the novel. But it wasn’t the book we signed up for. I was expecting a book about the secrets about Binding - maybe a bit of a thriller/mystery but with beautiful writing and an ethereal setting? I was definitely expecting more information about Binding. Instead we got a angsty romance, endless cutting and gluing of endpapers for books and ONE scene of Emmett book binding that didn’t tell us what the process actually is.

For what the book actually is, which is an angsty gay romance in a very subtly magical alternate ‘Victorian’ society, it’s a decent book. If I’d known this I probably would have read it and considered it a lovely cutesy read. However, it’s not the book I was sold and it left me disappointed. I’d recommend giving it a shot, but it’s not a book I would necessarily read again...

The Scarlet Pimpernel - Baroness Orcsy This was a ridiculous, over the top, and melodramatic classic adventure story. I had so much fun reading this! The Scarlet Pimpernel is a mysterious English aristocrat who, with his band of devoted fellow gentlement, travels to France during the height of the Revolution to rescue innocent French nobles from the guillotine. However, the French are at their wits end and Chauvelin blackmails the ‘cleverest woman in Europe’, darling of English society, and French wife of Sir Percy Blakeney, Lady Marguerite Blakeney, to find out the indentity of the Scarlet Pimpernel.

From there we go on a wonderfully melodramatic romp through 18th century England and France, and watch as Marguerite tries to save the Scarlet Pimpernel. It’s a silly, over the top, novel in a similar style to The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo. I’d highly recommend it as an entry into classic literature - or just as a ridiculous fun story!

Reticence - Gail Carriger (The Custard Protocol #4) My last full length parasolverse novel was A LOT of fun. I adored Percy and Arsenic’s slightly cringey but incredibly sweet romance bloom, alongisde the exploration of the supernatural in Carriger’s version of 1890′s Japan. The Custard Protocol was my least favourite of Carriger’s three main series (plotwise at least) but Reticence was a beautiful homage to the entire parasolverse! I adored the cameos (or just the entire wedding scene, let’s face it!), silly humour, and Percy’s happy ending.

My small niggle with this novel was the plot. As with the rest of the Custard Protocol novels I felt the plot wasn’t spectacular. It was a bit thin on the ground, particularly in the first half... This series is about character, and I love all the characters, but I wanted a little bit more from all of the novels. I wanted to see a bit more of each country (and spend a little bit less time on the Spotted Custard whilst travelling through the grey...) Nevertheless, I think Reticence was the strongest of the four Custard novels and I really loved it. Carriger’s world is my comfort blanket, it makes me smile, and I adore the world she’s created - and for that I will be forever grateful to Miss Gail!

Poison or Protect - Gail Carriger (Delightfully Deadly Novellas #1) This novella was a lot darker than I was expecting from Carriger. The plot and on-screen action was just a silly and entertaining as I was expecting (Preshea goes to a house party to prevent the assassination of the Duke of Snodgrove, and stop his daughter marrying a gold digger, whilst falling in love with a dashing Scottish captain.) However, Preshea’s backstory was much darker than we usually see in the parasolverse, the only comparable one I can think of off the top of my head is Rodrigo’s abuse from the Templars! She suffered through years of abuse and neglect at the hands of her father and husbands, leaving her damaged and shying away from all relationships.

The actual romance in Poison or Protect left me a little but underwhelmed. Gavin was actually what I was expecting from Connal Maccon in the Parasol Protectorate, and I’m much more on board with his ‘gentle-giant’ style romance with Preshea. I’m personally not a huge fan of the stereotypical kilt-wearing, enormous Scottish bloke... Just not my thing...but good for Preshea if she likes that! I just wasn’t that invested.

Personally, I would have loved Preshea’s book to revolve a bit more on her relationships with women, not romantically (she has never read as bi or a lesbian) but platonically. In the Finishing School Preshea held herself aloof from the girls around her, never really having a proper friend or friendship group. Instead she was like a vampire queen surrounded by her hive - beautiful, deadly, and set above everyone around her. Preshea herself comments on it in the book! Because of this I would’ve really loved the novella to focus on Preshea learning to be friends with other women, not see them as enemies or competition, and maybe getting her man on the side. We did get this growth as a sub-plot with Lady Flo and Mis Pagril, but I think it was more important for Preshea with her Finishing School background and the abuse she suffered to find herself with other women before jumping into bed with husband number 5...

The Wilful Princess and the Piebald Prince - Robin Hobb (Realm of the Elderlings) This was a fun little novella that expanded the backstory of the Six Duchies and explained why the Witted and Wit magic are so feared in the Farseer and Tawny Man Trilogies. It’s not Hobb’s finest work, but it did flesh out the history of the Six Duchies a little bit more. The story isn’t incredibly important to the main series but I’d highly recommend for fans of Hobb’s Realm of the Elderlings and it’s best to read the tale either before of after the Tawny Man Trilogy.

Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert A disappointing classic. Madame Bovary is supposed to be selacious and scandelous. I found it tedious and irritating. Emma Bovary was one of the most uncompelling heroines I’ve read outside of Dickens - she was a selfish snob, with no redeeming characteristics for the reader to latch onto. She’s adored by her husband, but bored in her marraige because Charles is only a middle class, mediocre doctor... She is manipulated by the men around her (both lovers and the guy who lends her money, I can’t remember his name) but is also incredibly stupid in her decisions, particularly around money and her last fateful decision at the end of the book.

The language (both French and my English translation) was dry, and the pacing was off. Important parts of the novel went by in a whirl, but then there were long stretches where almost nothing happens. I’ve read similar novels that were much better with similar themes, plotlines, and much more interesting characters. I am glad I’ve read it but Madame Bovary is not a book I would read again, nor would I recommend it unless you want to cross it off your list of classics.

Winter’s Heart, Crossroads of Twilight, and Knife of Dreams - Robert Jordan (Wheel of Time #9, 10, 11) This post is incredibly long and I’ve spoken about this series at length already so I don’t really have any new criticisms to rasise. However I am slowly making my way through the rest of the Wheel of Time and I’ve now reached the end of the books solely written by Robert Jordan himself. Winter’s Heart and Crossroads of Twilight really were the height of the slump, however, I did manage to read through them both quite quickly with the amount of time I have at the moment. Both books were quite slow but had hugely important moments in them for the entire series.

Knife of Dreams was a return to form for Jordan before he died and we got the resolution to several tedious plotlines that had been running through the last few books (Perrin and Faile, Mat in Ebudar, Egwene travelling to the White Tower.) Personally, I loved Elayne’s struggle to claim the Lion Throne, however, this is one of the plotlines people tend to dislike and it had a particularly satisfying conclusion at the end of KoD. I’m incredibly excited to the series conclusion that I can see coming and I can’t wait to jump into the installments written by Brandon Sanderson in April!

Currently Reading

I’m still working through Fellowship and the Companion... It’s fallen by the wayside slightly but I am still working through it.

A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens This is my buddy read book for March/April, but it’s also a reread for me (as we know from my turbulent relationship with this book from 2019) We have just finished Book 2 Chapter 5.

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon I’m not a huge fan of this book so far, however, I don’t hate it. I think the plot and world building is quite shallow (circa. 200 pages in anway), and the writing makes me feel like I’m watching the characters through a glass screen. Hopefully it will pick up a bit, but at the moment I think it’s overrated. (I don’t think it’s helping I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant epic fantasy at the moment...)

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quasieli · 5 years ago

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A Second Chance - Chapter Five

[Chapter Four] [AO3 Link]

“I do not know what you are expecting of this tour, Miss, but, if I may be frank, I do not have much time for comradery.”

The young boy and woman stood outside of the dormitory door, a silent standoff bubbling beneath the surface. Both knew there was more going on here than what was being let on, but neither knew the other’s side of this story. Vex wasn’t going to back down and let this boy, Bren, she now knew, get rid of her so easily.

“We do not wish to waste your time here,” she began, folding her arms and standing her ground, “I understand you have a big exam to study for, but what’s the harm in me wanting to get to know a bright, young scholar like yourself?”

“There is no harm, I suppose,” Bren spoke with an undertone of suspicion, “but I am just curious as to why.”

As Vex opened her mouth to speak, the rest of her party joined the two, both looking curious, and a touch annoyed from having to chase the other two down.

“Are we interrupting something here?” Percy cocked an eyebrow as he took in his wife’s body language, “We can step away if you two need a moment.”

“Don’t be silly, darling,” Vex relaxed as she hopped over to Percy, laying a quick kiss on his cheek, hanging onto him as she looked towards the boy, “Young Bren and I were just having a nice conversation.”

Bren squirmed at the intonation of his name, as if it was now somehow dirty. He could not understand why this woman was making him feel so uncomfortable, something about her was getting under his skin. He felt insecure. He had not felt that way in a long time.

She had been kind to him yesterday, and he did not want to take the kindness for granted, but he felt there might be some sort of ulterior motive behind the seemingly altruistic action. He knew he had to keep his guard up. He knew he had to be an impenetrable wall. He could do that. But then why was it so hard for him to look up at her?

There was the obvious reason, the reason that made the Archmage call him “weak” and say that he was just coming up with excuses. The same excuse which gave him an unquenchable thirst for arcane knowledge and the nearly airtight memory to recite it back with ease. It was not a weakness then, no, it was just how his brain worked. But no, it was not that, this was something more.

Taking a deep breath, Bren looked up at the three guests, fighting against his internal urge to look away. He kept his gaze steely, but still, something else was there to give away his nerves. Just as the de Rolos had seen him do the day before, he began to nervously tug at his shirt sleeve. However, this time, Vex got a glance at something more.

“Bren,” Vex said as her face fell into a look of worry, reaching down towards the boy, “what’s that under your sleeve?”

Vex crept toward the boy slowly, as if not to spook him like an injured deer. Peeking out from the long, crimson sleeve was the beginning of a white wrap, a bandage, Vex supposed. However, she could not get a good enough look before Bren pulled the arm away, tucking it behind himself a little to defensively for Vex’s liking. And then there was that look again, there and then gone in an instant. Vex hated seeing that look.

“Did someone hurt you?” she asked, her tone soft and face riddled with concern.

“Nein, ach, no no,” Bren stuttered, unsure of why he faltered when he had his answer to this question locked in his head, “Just... a mishap during some training. It is still tender, is all.”

Vex wanted nothing more than to push forward, to get the truth behind the obvious lie, but she understood that perhaps he was not ready to talk about that yet. She didn’t want to push too hard and risk losing him completely.

Feeling trepidatious, Vex turned to Percy and Allura, each wearing their own look of uncertainty and worry. Percy’s look then shifted to pensive, Vex could see the bubbling of an idea behind his eyes. The pondering look still on his face, Percy took a bold step forward, approaching the boy.

“You are Zemnian, yes?”

A foreign tongue spilled out from between Percy’s lips, a language Vex had never heard him speak before. It was almost comical how both Vex and Bren cocked a quizzical eyebrow at the man at nearly the exact same time, both curious as to Percy’s sudden dialectical skill.

“Yes, I am,” Bren responded slowly in the same language, “Is there some sort of issue with that?”

Percy relaxed into a self-satisfied grin, his idea, perhaps, proving worthwhile, “Not at all. I was just curious. My family, a few generations back, is, as well, and came from a place not too far from here. I learned the language as a child, but it has been years since I have practiced.”

“Interesting... Well, your accent could use a little work, but your grammar is spot on,” Bren’s face began to brighten, his cheeks filling with the warmth of his familiar native tongue.

“That is good to know,” Percy respond, shooting a quick glance over at a still perplexed Vex. “By the state of your accent, I am partial to guess this comes to you a little more naturally than Common. Would you prefer this? I can translate for our friends.”

Bren shook his head, “No, that is not necessary, but it is kind of you to offer. I do miss speaking this beautiful language, but Common is the language of this school,” he paused briefly, “So Common it shall be.”

Percy nodded, flashing a friendly smile at the boy, “Very well, but the offer still stands.”

Bren’s own smile widened slightly at the other man, a hint of nervousness around the edges of it. “Now, if you all do not mind, I am going to retrieve something from my room and then we can continue on,” Bren disappeared behind his door in a flash, but not before sneaking another curious glance Percy’s way.

“What was all that?” Vex asked as she approached her husband.

“Finding common ground,” Percy boasted, “I figured it was worth a shot.”

“You got him to smile, that’s definitely worth something,” Vex herself smiled, glad to have gotten even just a glimpse of Bren in a more relaxed and authentic state, “That was a really good move, he seemed really happy to be speaking… what language was that?”

“Zemnian,” Percy supplied, “it’s a predominant language spoken in Blumenthal, I thought it was worth a shot to see if he spoke it. Although, he does seem hesitant about speaking it here.”

“Why do you think that would be?” This time it was Allura who spoke up, seemingly having to remind the pair that she was also there.

“As far as I know, Zemnian is not considered a ‘proper’ language, for lack of a better term,” Percy replied with a grumble, “it’s considered a peasant’s language, not something that would be spoken in a place like this.”

“Well, now that we know he is at the top of his class, I think it is safe to assume that he is here on a scholarship,” Vex added, “So, we are dealing with a very smart young man who probably did not grow up with great means and is probably in a great deal of trouble. How shall we proceed?”

///

He could breathe now, behind closed doors and away from those people. It was strange how the solitude that had brought him anxiety as of late was now providing him with solace. Many restless nights had been spent in this room, pondering the coming days. Bren had reassured himself time and time again that he was doing the right thing; this was for the good of the Empire.

The Archmage had drilled tomorrow night’s plans into his mind over and over again, it was really all very simple, and yet… No, he could not have these doubts.

Bren did not consider himself a patriot, he loved the Empire and what it stood for, but he believed patriotism was reserved for blind zealots. He knew better. He had been lucky to have the privilege of getting to know some of the inner machinations of his wonderful homeland, and the more he knew, the more he yearned to protect it. All of his training was going towards protecting it. Years of work, finally beginning to pay off in these last few months. He was starting to become the man he always wished to be.

Then why was the sight of a simple necklace breaking him so?

The piece of jewelry had caught his eye the day before, he had not thought much of it, or so he thought. It was not until the half-elven woman interrupted him that he realized just how transfixed he was on the pendant, the bright stone at its center particularly catching his eye. It was a beautiful piece, he had seen others like it at the many harvest festivals of his youth, but this was the first time he may have been able to actually afford it.

But why would he buy it knowing the plans for the coming days?

Perhaps it was as an apology, to both himself and his mother, for what he was about to do. But it had to be done. He could not let the safety of the Empire be compromised, no one was exempt from punishment for this crime. Not even his parents.

He looked once more at the necklace, laying in a small, open box on his desk, a handwritten note beside it. His thumb brushed across the square of paper, written in his fine handwriting were the words “Abba und Eema, ich liebe dich. Liebe, dein schatzi.”

He sighed heavily, he had to do what was right. Taking the necklace out of its box, Bren placed the pendant in his tunic pocket, having it in his hand made him feel strangely safe. Perhaps that would get him through this day with these peculiar visitors before he would return to his childhood home the following morning for his final test.

It would have to work. He had to be strong.

#Critical Role #CR 1 #Vex'ahlia #Bren Aldric Ermendrud #Caleb Widogast #Percy de Rolo #Allura Vysoren #A Second Chance #My Writing #it's done!!!!

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fibula-rasa · 6 years ago

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October 2018 in Review

October was way more hectic than I thought it would be and I didn’t watch as many movies as I usually do. I spent a week in Korea (a post about my visit to the Korean Film Archive will be up soon!) And I was motivated to watch a lot of new movies (a.k.a. was on a long-haul flight).

You may have already heard the news, but the irreplaceable Filmstruck is shuttering this month after two wonderful years. Fair warning: I’ll probably spend a good deal of this month (November) trying to watch as many new-to-me movies in my queue as I can. I think I’ll try and write them up quickly over on my letterboxd, we’ll see!

Also, though The Vamps was intended to be an October series, the month’s general hecticness meant I didn’t get the final essay finished before the end of the month. So, in November, you all have that post to look forward to. (See if you can guess who it is! Hint: she’s a Dane.)

The reviews below are essentially transcriptions of the notes I took right after watching the films. They’re presented in the order in which I watched them.

Enough blathering, on to the movies. BELOW THE JUMP!

Dolls (1987)

29 May 1987 | 77 min. | Color

As a long-time devotee of the Band family’s productions, I’m always down for a Band film I haven’t seen. (When I was a kid, we probably spent a dozen times what it would have cost to buy Pet Shop (1994) renting it from Dollar Video.)

Yes, I did talk about haunted doll movies in my last roundup but this one was more fun, okay? The cast of characters are a great larger-than-life assortment of weirdos. I wish that 1980s English punks would just keep popping up in horror films after the 1980s. I particularly liked the performance of the little girl’s father. In most other movies, it would be a terrible performance, but in Dolls, it’s pitch perfect.

Dolls is a fairytale story that creates the atmosphere of a child’s viewpoint. The dolls are scary and do scary things, but, of course, they can be reasoned with.

As with many Full Moon movies, Dolls had a great balance of scares and campy humour. The doll designs are gross and fun–especially their wet, bloodshot eyes.

Dolls is a great choice for someone who watched a lot of Are You Afraid of the Dark? growing up and wants a “grown-up” version of that.

Funland (1987)

16 October 1987 | 98 min. | Color

After watching Dolls on Amazon Prime, this film was recommended. From the plot description and the featured image, we expected a fun slasher film. And, with William Windom (who I’m pretty sure took time off of Murder, She Wrote to make this movie!!!) in the cast, we couldn’t resist. What we got was… a… comedy? I guess?

There’s no doubting that there are some talented performers in this movie, but it’s just not funny. The only reason I’m writing about Funland at all is that it’s a good example of the kind of cheesy movie where you can see what could have been a good (or at least more interesting) movie underneath the movie that was actually made.

How exactly do you think: “I’m gonna make a movie about a killer clown fighting mobsters!” and then come up with this movie? I wrote a much longer complaint but, I won’t subject you to it. In short, Funland doesn’t execute its plot very well.

I definitely wouldn’t recommend this one. However, I am curious if any Atlanta natives have feelings about this movie? It seems like it features a lot of locals.

Flying Air Canada

The movie below are what I watched on my plane journeys to and from Seoul. I was flying Air Canada and I need to rant for a sec before moving on to my thoughts on the films.

There are a lot of reasons why captions (or subtitles, if you’re British) are necessary. They’re needed by lots of people, including people who aren’t d/Deaf or hard of hearing. If you want to learn more about why captions are good Jessica Kellgren-Fozard has you covered.

Personally, I have sensory processing disorder (SPD). This prompts me to have captions on when I watch most things. At home, I do this because not every movie or TV show I watch has decent sound mixing. It seems to be an art a lot of film/video makers are neglecting nowadays. Ho hum. I keep captions on so I don’t need to constantly change the volume. On a plane, my SPD is significantly worse because the noise of the plane is so loud that there’s little to no chance of me catching dialogue without raising the volume too high for my own comfort. Unlike the airlines I travel on within the US, Air Canada’s captioned offerings are practically nonexistent. That’s why so many of the movies I ended up watching were foreign-language (or ASL) films–they came with English subtitles.

Now, Air Canada, listen: Most of the movies you had on offer are definitely available with captions elsewhere. Even in theaters they likely had open-caption screenings. What is the deal? Seriously.

Anyway, sometimes I take for granted that we do some things right in America.

Okay, back to movies.

Mary Shelley (2017)

9 September 2018 | 120 min. | Color

This film didn’t have captions, which honestly might have weighed negatively on my experience of it. I was excited to see Mary Shelley. Mary and Percy Shelley are two of my absolute favorite literary historical figures and I love their work. This movie was a let down. It seemed like it was meant to be a character piece but the characters felt more like types than people. Also, don’t get me wrong here: I give no ground to fuckboys, but the depiction of Percy Shelley felt particularly oversimplified.

A Quiet Place (2017)

9 March 2018 | 90 min. | Color

Everybody raving about this movie was totally right. Definitely check it out if you haven’t already. Even if you’re not big on horror, it’s worth a shot.

How Long Will I Love U (2018)

18 May 2018 | 101 min. | Color

Scrolling through Air Canada’s film options, I got the feeling that time-travel romance is pretty popular right now in China and Korea? I think I picked the right one to watch in How Long Will I Love U. The premise put me in mind of The Lake House (2006), a movie I don’t like but can never resist watching when it’s on TV. This movie is a lot better than The Lake House. The premise is pretty cool and the plot is spurred on by a proper sci-fi concept. The leads are very cute together. I love that the main characters both kinda suck but become better people in getting to know one another. The special effects are good looking, conceptually fun, and not excessive.

I highly recommend this one. It’d probably be a great date movie or a Friday-night-with-some-Chunky-Monkey-and-a-cuddly-pet movie.

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Diamond is Unbreakable — Chapter 1 (2017)

4 August 2017 | 119 min. | Color

Listen. I have friends who are big fans of the JoJo manga and anime. I have never read any of the manga and couldn’t get past the first episode of the anime. That said, when I saw Takashi Miike directed this live-action adaptation of a story arc in the multi-generational JoJo series, I hit that play button right fast. Then, to my surprise, I enjoyed it! I often struggle with the visuals in live-action adaptations of anime and manga, but I loved how Diamond is Unbreakable played with the characters’ unique styling and design. The superhero-like story drew me in a lot faster than the anime and might just get me to look into some of the manga.

This movie might be a hard sell for a lot of people but if you wanna see something that’s out there and imaginative with supernatural overtones, Diamond is Unbreakable might be fun for you. Don’t worry–it’s easy to follow even if you don’t know who Joseph Joestar is. (Yes, that really is a character’s name.)

Un Traductor / A Translator (2018)

19 January 2018 | Color

I had no idea that following the Chernobyl disaster, some of the victims were sent to Cuba for medical treatment. I also had no idea that the program continued until 2011?! So, Un Traductor was a modern history lesson for me! Un Traductor is a model film for propaganda filmmaking–and I mean that in a fully complimentary way. The film does an admirable job of communicating how life for Cubans changed with the fall of the Soviet Union and how they adjusted to persevere.

You can probably gather from what you just read that this isn’t a fun watch, but it’s worthwhile if you have any interest in modern Cuban history.

A Casa Tutti Bene / There is No Place Like Home (2018)

14 February 2018 | 105 min. | Color

I don’t have a lot to say about this one frankly. It’s a decent family dramedy. Massimo Ghini and Sabrina Impacciatore both turn in good performances. *shrugs in Italian*

That’s all for this month’s roundup! Are you all ready for Noirvember? How about Kicksgiving? If you’re a Filmstruck subscriber, what are you marathoning this month?

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ohboywonder · 7 years ago

Text

office AU - PJO / HOO fanfiction

MONDAY - TUESDAY - WEDNESDAY - THURSDAY - FRIDAY - SATURDAY - SUNDAY

Summary: Percy had no idea that his new secretary worked so, well, well! Although his work keeps him busy the whole day, he notices quickly that he can rely on her.

Words: 4778 Warnings: none || AO3 No one read it beta, so if you find any mistakes, let me know!

TUESDAY

The next morning started with the alarm clock. Percy lifted his head and eyed the clock face suspiciously, as if he could persuade it through staring to give him some more time to sleep. He had no success.

After a shower and a bowl of cereal – no, not the healthy one Hazel had proposed but the colourful and probably cancer-causing one – he left his apartment and got into the car. Although it didn’t seem like it, the fun part of his morning was nearly over. Behaving like a kid instead of a grown-up, having ice cream for dinner and staying up ridiculously late for playing the latest game, these were things he could do at home and not in the office. At home, where he was just Percy, not the leader of a life style magazine company. At home, where no one was watching. Where there was no one to share it with. Percy sighed.

He started the engine. It was not his favourite way of transport, usually he rode his bike, but it poured and sometimes the car needed to be moved as well. His mother used the car as well and it benefited her more than Percy. His little sister needed to get to school, his mom to work and sometimes it was used to transport Percy, Paul, his mom, and Cassie to fun weekend trips.

Today would not be a fun-weekend-trip-day. Percy sighed while turning left. He had a meeting with Octavian, that idiot, today at eight, then a discussion with the board about the next issue, then he needed to see some photographs and call someone who might work for them when their current photographer found out that he would, well… have to reorient.

Coffee. He needed coffee. And maybe a bagel. Luckily, he knew the best place for an early second-before-work-breakfast. Percy left the car and walked into a little coffee shop with an in-built pastry shop, not a block away from his office. A big, broadly-built Chinese man stood behind the counter and filled out a form. A few people sat in the back and chatted. His face lit up as he saw Percy.

“Long time no see Percy!”, Frank came around the counter and hugged him. Percy just loved this guy. He looked so tough and scary but inside he was a gentle, kind, person. His better half popped her head through a door that led to the ovens. Golden shimmering curls framed her face and made her dark skin glow. A smile that was nearly too wide for her face appeared on her lips and she hugged Percy tightly.

“I knew I heard right. Where have you been?”, she asked while letting go of him. Percy immediately found his black shirt stained with flour but he couldn’t care less. Frank’s and Hazel’s coffee shop had been his first and last refuge, before and after work, so often, he did not care about his looks, he cared about them.

“Work was killing me lately. I was out of secretaries since Millie had to go.”, he said while Frank nodded and went behind the counter again.

“Same as usual?”, he asked and Percy nodded. He really needed this coffee with an extra espresso and a shot of salted caramel cream right now.

“Out of secretaries?”, Hazel asked and wiped her hands on her flour-covered apron. “That means you fired Millie?”

Percy sighed. “Yes. She was driving me crazy. But I have a new one, since yesterday.” His hand automatically wandered to his neck and rubbed it.

“Oh”, Hazel and Frank said in unison and looked at each other in silent understanding. Although the actions that followed these glares often went against him, Percy admired their silent understanding. That’s what he wanted. Someone to understand him, his weird sarcasm, the tiny signals – all that he saw with Hazel and Frank, or his mom and his step-dad.

“Oh what?”, Percy whined and let himself sink in a chair. “What now?”

“Your body language.”, Frank said.

“The hand in your neck.”, Hazel added.

“The looking down.”, Frank nodded and looked at Hazel and together they said: “Those are signals.”

“Signals for what?”, Percy wanted to know. What were the two of them going on about now?

“That you like the new secretary. Remembering her made you look nervous and happy for a second.”, Hazel said and smiled sweetly. Then a beeping filled the air and she clasped her hands before her mouth. “My tartes!”, she whined and scurried back to the oven.

“Tell me about her”, Frank said, handing Percy his coffee.

Percy frowned. What was there to tell about Annabeth Chase? He knew her for one day! “Well, her name is Annabeth Chase. She actually is over-qualified. She has a degree in literature and has done internships at nearly every big newspaper company you can imagine. Yesterday was her first day and she let the coffee machine explode.” He grinned and Frank raised an eyebrow. “Has probably never made her own coffee, dunno. She is very very, like, very interested and does her job quite well, at least, from what I’ve noticed so far.”

Hazel had returned, standing in the doorway, leaning on it and listening. She smiled and wanted to say something but Frank interrupted her: “What about her looks?”, which made Hazel frown.

“She… well, she looks good. I guess. I don’t know?”, Percy said, trying to sound persuasive. “I could send her down later and you can make yourselves a picture of her. What do you think of that?”

Frank looked at Hazel who smiled brightly. “Sounds like a great idea! Here, I made you a bagel back there. I bet you wanted one and only forgot to mention it.” She winked at him and handed him the bag.

“You’re an angel Hazel. Thank you so much. Guess I better get going now. See you guys.” With that Percy payed, including a ridiculously high tip, and left. He was only a little bit late when he arrived ten minutes later in his office. Annabeth was there already.

Today she was wearing dark jeans and a grey pullover that had such a long neckline that it hung over her shoulder and revealed some of the skin there. Her blonde hair was up in a ponytail and some loose strands of hair hung into her grey eyes. Although all of this was immensely fascinating, Percy couldn’t help but stare at her skin. As she noticed his gaze she immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry about the outfit Mr Jackson but this is one of the few pieces I own that don’t scratch my skin beneath it. I will make sure to wear something more appropri-”

“Ms Chase”, he quickly interrupted her and forced himself to pull his gaze away from her shoulders and the skin that showed. “It’s fine. I fully support your, well, your body, especially its healing after what happened yesterday.” As the sentence was out, he realised how weird this sounded but Annabeth giggled and nodded.

“Thank you, sir.”, she said and cleared her throat. She was standing again so Percy thought she could follow him to his office anyways. But before he even had made a signal for her to do so or said one word, she came around the desk and stepped besides him. “This morning you have a meeting with Mr Blinder. He was here already to remind me to remind you.” She sighed.

It amused him that her knowledge of human nature obviously was so well developed that she’d noticed already what an idiot Octavian could be. “He also said”, she continued, “to remind you of his Snapchat idea.”

“I will continue to draw sad smileys on these papers until I die”, Percy declared and grinned at Annabeth. She nodded, the trace of a smile on her lips.

“Next thing up is the board meeting and you need to call the photographer. Both of them, actually.” Percy sat down and started his laptop. There were seven new emails in his inbox – a fact that made him frown. Only seven? “Oh”, Annabeth said as she noticed his face, “and I checked your emails and answered the ones I could.”

This was actually not her task. Not yet. With Millie, he had discussed her work area and as soon as he trusted her abilities enough, which took quite some time, expanded her tasks. Percy scrolled through his mails and checked the answers. Mostly they were intern mails asking for a time spot in his schedule that Annabeth, eh, Ms Chase, had given them. His notebook openly lay at the desk next to his keyboard and all the new dates were already written in it. Ms Chase’s handwriting was orderly and more ornate than his own but she did her job well.

As he looked up, he saw her biting her lip. Apart from that nothing showed that she was worried that she had gone too far. Her confidence was baffling him but she had done nothing wrong. Still, it bugged him.

“Thank you, Ms Chase”, he said and looked up. She nodded and looked at her own notebook. Obviously, nothing was on it anymore and she looked back at him.

“Can I do anything else, sir?”, she asked. Through the glass front he could see some of his employees coming from the kitchen with steaming mugs. Coffee had obviously been already made. He shook his head and tried another smile.

“Thank you, Ms Chase. I’ll let you know.” She left the room and took her seat behind her desk. Percy had hated that damn glass wall when Millie had worked here. He had to watch her do her nails while talking on the phone, chatting with the other employees more than actually doing her work and every three hours or so going to make some new coffee. But with Annabeth… Oh, come on Percy! With Ms Chase, it was different. She sat at her desk, taking calls, and writing emails as if she was here forever. Maybe even before Percy himself.

Still, this stunt she’d pulled… Well, if she wanted a challenge, she’d get one.

The tasks he had on his schedule today would have taken him the whole day. But maybe he could use it as a test to see how well she’d actually do. Percy made a list with tasks and stood up, taking his phone and jacket.

“Ms Chase”, he said and Annabeth’s head shot up. She was writing another email and her blond curls hung in her grey eyes. For a moment, he forgot what he wanted to say. The impact she had on him was weird. But fascinating. Her eyes scanned his face before they lingered on the list. “I have some tasks for you. I wrote everything down and I need to get to the board meeting now. I am sure you’ll be done with this list by lunchtime.”

Carefully he watched her reaction as she scanned the tasks, the names and she was biting her lower lip again while she read the list concentrated, which made Percy smile.

“Of course, Mr Jackson”, she replied and he nodded contently.

“I thought so. I’ll check in with you after lunch.”, he said and turned to walk to his board meeting. He’d never been a fan of those meetings but there was one good thing about them. He could see his friends.

As he walked into the room, a few seats were already taken. A tall girl with short black hair looked up from her phone and smiled at him. Her blue eyes sparkled as he sat down next to her. “Finally!”, she said and grinned. “I was getting bored with all those serious business people around me.”

Although she insulted him in a way, calling him an unserious business man, he couldn’t stay mad at Thalia. Not for one second. “I’m glad to see you, too. Where’s your brother?”, Percy said grinning and looked around. Jason was nowhere in sight. Not that it was hard to overlook him. He and Thalia couldn’t have looked any more different. Thalia, with her dark hair and her thoughtfulness, who would never step into the spotlight – if not necessary. Still, she had the ability to command a the attention of a whole room without any effort. And then there’s her younger brother, Jason. Tall, blonde, absolutely born for the spotlight. His ability to rationally negotiate between his employees, between different companies, between his friends, always marked him down as the leader – which is why he’d gotten a job that high ranking in his young age in their parents’ company.

“What do you think?”, she asked and her eyes seemed to sparkle again. That was the only thing the siblings had in common. Those light blue eyes.

“Piper?”, Percy suggested and smiled.

“Piper”, Thalia confirmed. Percy’s head of customer service and Thalia’s little brother had met on an office Christmas party and were dating since then – should be two years now? Whenever Thalia and Jason came over to join a board meeting, Jason was lost the moment he’d entered the building until the meeting began. “He should be here any minu-”

“Percy, I’m glad to see you!”, Jason said, entering the room this very moment. He patted him on the back and sat down next to his sister. Percy grinned. His usually so accurately brushed hair looked a bit unorderly but he was happy for him.

“Glad to see you too, Jason.”, Percy said, as Grover took his seat next to him. He nodded at the siblings and nudged Percy’s shoulder.

“I have a copy of the report you asked for, the one about cutting down on the CO2 emissions. Turns out the recycled paper is not as shiny as the one we used before but the emissions are nearly cut half through it. Maybe you should talk to Rachel about it.”

Percy took it and scanned the report. This was good. Really good. As he looked back up, he noticed everyone was there and after clearing his throat, he opened the board meeting.

Two hours later he came through his office doors, only to find Annabeth’s desk empty. Well, she certainly was completing his list. A familiar figure lingered in one of the comfy seats in front of his desk and Percy smiled. Although he was already exhausted this would be nice.

“You’re not on the list.”, he said and Leo’s head popped up, the dark curls flying as he looked around to see Percy standing in the doorway, holding a cup of Annabeth’s coffee in his hand. Ms Chase’s coffee. Damn it.

“Aw, come on, Boss. You’ll have time for a little signature, right?”, he grinned and Percy got behind his desk, putting down his papers and the mug.

“What’s it this time, Valdez?”, Percy really tried to be annoyed, but he couldn’t. Leo was, although a little young, an incredibly talented IT manager. His skills were that good, one time the entire company server was down and Leo somehow managed to get it to the printers and the copy could be published as if nothing had happened. Up to this day nobody knew how he’d managed that. But from then on he was head of IT and did a wonderful job, although his favourite response to any problem still was: Have you tried turning it off and on again?

“I need a signature, your new secretary… Well, I have to admit, she scares me, but she looks great. Have you noticed that?” He leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows. Percy sighed but couldn’t help a smile.

“What about her?”, he asked and took the sheet Leo handed him and scanned it.

“She did what you asked her to do. Came around, told me about the missing signature and that, if I don’t get it, I will probably lose my job or something.” His eyes widened. “She was scary. Good scary, I mean. But I came straight up here to get the signature. I mean, if I understood correctly I actually need a permit to do certain things on the server and since I don’t have that one – you know.” He shrugged and Percy shook his head, a grin on his face.

“Well, there you go. You’re now officially allowed to continue your work.”

“Thanks Boss, really. And, she is really good lo-”

“Get going, Valdez!”

“Alright, alright. Thanks though, Boss-man!” And with that Leo Valdez had vanished. It always was a bit complicated to get him away from his machines since he loved them so much, which is why Annabeth mildly impressed Percy. She’d gone for the right tactic: to scare him a bit so he would come upstairs. As he checked his schedule, the mood lift Annabeth’s good work had given him, seemed to vanish again. Next thing up was the meeting with Octavian. Ugh.

Since Percy obviously couldn’t help but call her by her first name, he decided to go with Annabeth instead. He’d only have to take care to not call her that to her face. As he took a sip from the mug, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. The coffee tasted great! Maybe even better than Millie’s coffee and that was one of the sole reasons she had had her job for so long.

A knock pulled him out of his thoughts. “Come in”, Percy said and Octavian stepped into his room. In his hands, he held his tablet and some papers, probably graphics, predictions, and a form to finally get his Snapchat account.

“Good morning, sir.”, he snarled and sat down.

“Have you tried the coffee today?”, Percy asked him and took another gulp before placing the mug next to his screen. “It’s amazing.”

“After the coffee fiasco from yesterday? No, thanks.”, Octavian said and raised his eyebrows. Percy could read his utter discomfort he always showed when he was around him. He didn’t believe Percy could or should lead the company. And he was after his position, the power it held and the people he then could control. What Octavian did not understand, it wasn’t about control. It was about trusting, pushing, and catching, if someone would fall.

“Well, you don’t know what you’re missing.”, Percy said and leaned forward. “Show me the tables from last weeks. Some graphics would be nice, too.”

Although he could barely stand that guy, Octavian Blinder was good at what he did. He had pushed up the public image of the company and raised awareness of their magazine, collected sponsors, and took care of the ads that were channelled. The feedback on company adds and the number of people who’d seen those did go up nearly two percent since last month.

“Well done”, Percy said and ran a hand through his hair. It always lifted his mood to see that people bought the magazine, that they clicked on the adds or liked pictures of the upcoming articles on Facebook or Instagram.

“Thank you, sir”, Octavian said and looked very pleased with him, “but I wanted to talk to you about the Snapchat idea.”

“No Snapchat”, Percy said and shook his head. They’d gone over this at least thrice now. His employee pursed his lips. He was about to tell him – again – how important this platform was and how it would speak to more people on a wider range but Annabeth saved him.

“Mr Jackson, there is a call for you.”, she said and looked at him urgently. Octavian looked at her, then back at Percy, and seemed baffled that she could interrupt their meeting – as if there was anything more important than his Snapchat idea.

Percy tried to hide a smile. “Well, I guess we’re done anyways. Thank you for your time, Mr Blinder.” It took Octavian a second to realise that he was being sent away but he stiffly nodded, grabbed his belongings, and left.

“Who is it?”, Percy asked the second Octavian had left the office but Annabeth shrugged.

“No one. I just thought you might like him to leave.”

He must have looked as baffled as Octavian because Annabeth started to giggle. “I am sorry if I overstepped a line again but I saw you two talking and you did not seem happy. Plus, he was here for nearly an hour now. I thought you’d might like him to leave.”

Still unable to process what had just happened, Percy nodded. “Uhm”, he stammered and tried to wrap his head around her. Why on earth would she… How could she know he was suffering from talking to that guy? What was it with this girl?

He caught himself again and smiled. “Thanks, Ms Chase.” More and more she started to win him over. Her work, her sense of situations, how she handled the other employees. And then there still was this tension between them. Right now, for example. They both looked at each other and Annabeth clung onto her notebook as if she needed to hold herself back. Percy felt the same energy. He would have loved to stand up, walk over to her, and pull her toward himself and …

Never mind.

“So”, he said in a lame attempt to get his brain back to work. A quick look at his watch revealed it was nearly time for lunch. “How does it go with the list?”

“Uhm…” She still looked him in the eyes and had a hard time pulling her gaze away. Then she looked at the list and nodded. “One task to go. I think I better get going. I want to be back on time with your lunch.” She smiled shyly, turned around, and left his office again.

He followed her with his eyes until she’d disappeared through the door and probably headed for the elevator. Her last task was to get some bagels for lunch from Frank’s and Hazel’s shop.

The call to end the employment contract with their last photographer was easy. The call to employ the new photographer was easy, too. Sometimes things went smoothly. Sometimes.

Percy’s phone buzzed. A text from Frank saying: “She’s gorgeous!!! Sent her back up, Hazel thinks she’s pretty (&) amazing.” Percy smiled and put the phone away. In a few minutes, he’d get something to eat and a little break. Then he’d talk to Rachel about the new paper and whether there are any updates on the next issue.

The lunch with Annabeth had been pleasant but Percy wasn’t surprised by that anymore. He genuinely enjoyed Annabeth’s presence – and her company. And even better, they could talk about normal things. He had talked about his mother as Annabeth mentioned her and about his teenage sister, about his step dad and his actual dad. Annabeth was a good listener. She nodded and smiled and thanked him in between for buying lunch for her as well. She hadn’t talked about her personal life but Percy could understand. She maybe still was unsure whether she would stay in this position or was hesitant about talking to her boss about her private life.

For Percy, however, it was not a question. Annabeth would stay. She did good work and he enjoyed having her around. And there still was this tension between them… as if they were drawn towards the other.

“Mr Jackson?”, Annabeth’s voice called him back into reality. “Your phone”, she said and raised one eyebrow. And she was right. Percy had been so lost in his thoughts, he must have been staring at her – unconsciously of course.

He reached for the phone and looked at the photo. Rachel Elizabeth Dare smiled brightly from the screen. Her red curls framed her face, the green eyes looked a little bit provoking. He picked up and noticed how Annabeth’s eyebrows wandered up her forehead. “Hey, Rachel”, he said and tried to not look at Annabeth.

“Hey Perce, would you consider, I don’t know, getting your ass down here? I have a thing or two to talk about with you and they are, well, how to put this? Essential for your magazine?”

Percy pulled a face. He should have called her sooner. “Yes, I’ll be there any minute, okay? Just let me finish lunch?”

He could hear Rachel growl and see her before his eyes, the way she rolled her eyes and then sighed: “Alright, but hurry!”

Staring at the screen going black again, Percy sighed. As he looked at Annabeth, she raised one eyebrow and he just shook his head. “As sorry as I am to interrupt this, I need to go. Rachel needs me in graphics. Please, eat whatever you want and then, finish your list?”

“I’m already done with that, Mr Jackson.”, she said and narrowed her eyes at him. “The last task was to get your lunch,” after a tiny pause she added, “our lunch.” This was the last task? Whoa. This surprised Percy.

“Well, then stretch your break a little longer and maybe make some phone calls? Or leave early if you want to.” He smiled at her.

“But… I thought you’d say…”

“Yes but today, there’s only this little thing with Rachel left, so go if you want to.”

He turned around and left the office, leaving a confused Annabeth behind. He was interested in what she would do but for now he needed to concentrate on the last task.

“There you are!”, Rachel greeted him. Well, she seemed a bit upset about him only coming in now but besides this, everything else was normal. Her hair was a wild, red mess of curls and her green eyes sparkled of creativity and the desire for action. Her jeans were full of sketches, drawn onto it, and her hands were busy knocking a pen on her desk. Behind her there was a big window, facing a park full of trees and bushes, the big pictures showed magazine covers and paintings, graphics, and photographs.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I brought you coffee.”, he grinned at her and placed a full mug next to half a dozen empty ones. “And I will send someone to collect your mugs, mh?”

“Don’t you worry”, she said and started to shuffle some papers on her desk, looking for the one he wanted to see. The cover for next month’s edition. “Here”, she finally said. This was one of Percy’s favourite moments: to see the final cover. To see the hard work, he and his employees had done put onto a cover, that would soon wrap it all up.

“It looks great!”, he said, looking closely at the cover, noticing the details. The covers usually were a mix of a photograph and a drawn scenery, for example a mountain lake and a drawn sky. Or a drawn hut on a green valley. This time, it was a seashore, waves crashing on the beach and a ship drawn on the water. “The colours… You’ve outdone yourself Rachel!”

She smiled at him and shrugged but her face beamed. “Thanks Percy. But I heard some rumours… About a new paper?” She raised an eyebrow and glared at him.

“Well, yeah. This is more economic and will do good for the environment. And if we do this clever the prize of the magazine won’t go up and we’re saving the world – at least a little bit.” He looked at her apologetic.

For a second he thought he would have to fight with Rachel over this now but she sighed and nodded, her arms crossed before her chest. “I will have to do a test print, but it’ll do, somehow.”

“Thank you, Rachel. Now I might need to tell you about the new photographer…”

“The new what?”

As Percy finally got back to his office, it was five. Somehow this happened a lot. He wandered around the company, from office to office, checked with the journalists, the graphics, ended up chatting with Piper about weekend plans, was called down to sign something in Grover’s office and then it suddenly was five.

“Oh, you’re still here?”

Annabeth looked up and nodded. She was on the phone and wrote something down. Percy felt a warmth inside him. That she still was here, still worked… It made him proud. A smirk on his face, he went to his office to grab his suitcase and jacket before going back into Annabeth’s office.

“Shall we get going?”, he asked and winked at her. Annabeth froze for a second but then grabbed her jacket, cheeks pink. They both left the office and made their way through the open plan office and Percy grinned while thinking about their elevator ride. This was something he could get used to.

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