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cherry-pop-elf · 3 months

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Weasley Siblings With A Chubby Partner

Yes I’m projecting. Shush. It’s hard to lose weight when you have heart problems lemme have this

Warnings: 16+ There isn’t any sex, but there will be sexual themes. Also talks about fat phobia, bullying and such. Along with a small bit of food struggles and topics of eating problems

Writing Comission’s Open

William ‘Bill’

There is just something so nice about it. He himself is a, rather, thin and lanky man. The job quite literally sucks the life out of you. So you are always such a massive comfort to him. How you are able to help him stay so warm, and how he can just wrap his arms around you. Let his bones rest, after a long day, and embrace you. To be able to share a big meal with you, and have it adored. Since being a curse breaker is so draining, it’s a given that comfort food is left and right. So there’s something so kind in sharing it with someone, instead of eating alone. There is also something so thrilling about it all. Whenever the full moon comes around, and he has handfuls to enjoy. To have so much flesh and skin to bite and claw at. Make sure everyone’s knows who you belong to. He likes it, he won’t lie. Especially the morning cuddles. Letting his head rest on your soft chest, and holding you close. Fingers tracing the scars he’s left behind. It’s soothing, to the wolf in ginger clothing

Charlie

Oh he loves himself someone with meat on their bones. He himself has some too. Muscle is tense when flexed. When it’s not? SQUISH. So he damn well knows that just because someone’s got some extra squish, it doesn’t mean they aren’t able to still kick your ass. Oh he loves himself a partner that’s got meat on the bone. Mans is always behind you, with his hands on your stomach. Playful squishes. Never to insult. Just always very all mine. Not to mention a good excuse to show off his cooking skills. You gotta be creative when always camping. Finally someone to enjoy the meat he always endlessly has. That’s something he loves. Sharing food. Especially meat. Oh you bet your ass there’s alot of meat in your future. Along with aggressive claiming, and not being just a man who watches dragons breed. He’s gotta claim his own mate, and enjoy all that they can give. What can he say? He’s about as much dragon as he was Weasley. He likes em big, warm, and dangerous. The fact you thought it was smart to date him? Oh yeah. You are dangerous alright.

Percy

He’s a bit of a mama’s boy, so having a partner on the softer side certainly isn’t the worse. Not to mention there is a strange pride to it all. That his job is high paying enough to never have to worry about food. Every Weasley has money paranoia. Even the twins, despite their beautiful jobs. There is extreme comfort in knowing neither of you need to worry. That you can be on the softer side. It helps him sleep at night. To hold you close, see your sleeping face, and hug you. Feel how warm and soft you are. To know he is able to provide enough that you didn’t have to become dangerously thin. It’s a sign of pride, really. To know he can support his family. Make sure all he cares about is happy, and safe.

Fred

Twins, of the Wizard kind, share it all. Such as the enjoyment of someone soft. Fred sure does like to show you off, in a sense. To brag about how pretty you are, and how much you joy you bring. He’s similar to Charlie, in a sense it’s hard for him to not keep his hands on you. He just loves the security of it. The feeling of love. It’s soothing to him. To just hug you, and you hug back, promising to never let go. How you give him this comforting weight, as you cuddle. It helps ground him. Brings him back to earth again. His big, sweet, security blanket. He also adores cooking for you. He picked it up from Molly. He was the one who cooks, and George is the one who bakes. Nothing screams home more than cooking for someone. Expect lots of it from him. No hungry mouths in his house!

George

Very similar to his twin. You provide him a security, and comfort. But, they don’t always share everything. Especially not after the war. He can understand the insecurity. Missing a ear isn’t exactly hard to miss, especially since the spell that took it is famous for leaving deep gashes. It can be nauseous. Having people stare at you, for only doing so much as existing. He can tell the difference in the looks. He knows. And he knows he can hold onto you close, and find support. Along with someone who would enjoy his baking skills. Someone to share his love again. It’s hard to live with out a twin, but having you in the kitchen with him lightens the load by a lot. Like he never left. Your sweet teddy bear. His favorite co-baker

Ron

What can he say? He likes someone who likes to eat. When you grow up with food being scarce, you develop some food paranoia. Can you blame him? He is rather self conscious about it. Always teased for eating so much. You understand him though, and he understands you. You learn to appreciate food, when it can be hard to get any. Never fear about your eating habits around him. He’s more than happy to share a big meal with you. There’s a comfort in talking over tea with someone. To snack and snuggle after a long day. He gets it. Life is to short to worry about people’s views. Never know when you can’t even get food. Find pleasure in the little things

Ginny

As a Quidditch star, she definitely has to eat alot to fill in her calories. Like a lot a lot. So having someone who can keep up? She finds it fun. She also damn well knows that a little extra padding on the hips is not a death sentence, or even remotely means you are unfit. She sees so many different types of athletes, and grew up with family who all played Quidditch. She knows where muscle and fat goes. Like how Bill needs to keep up his calories for his job, why Charlie had more muscle in his legs while the twins have it in their arms. She knows how the body works a little better than most. So she damn well knows her athletic butt adores your squishy one. To come home, shower, and just slam her face into your stomach. Groaning about her aching muscles, as she snuggles into you. Able to enjoy how soft you are, and the emotional support it gives her. You are just perfect in her big brown eyes.

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annawrites444 · 4 months

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Matchups!

@sugutoad

A/N: I'm so sorry this is like a week late I was swamped with school and theatre rehearsals �� Thank you for your patience <3 ALSO we are name twins... Annas for the win :D

I was also soooo conflicted on who to pair you with because I see you with both Jason AND Percy equally, but Percy matches your type moreee to me sooo...

I matched you up with......Percy Jackson

Okay Percy is YOUR guy-you have this alluring personality that honestly just drew him in... Like the tide.... get it... (okay im done lmao)

But anyways he's definitely head over heels after he first meets you, I always see Percy as this really well balanced guy, I mean yes he has his moments like any other teen but he is a very understanding guy. Sally raised him RIGHT.

If you guys are ever in a conversation and someone speaks over you or if he interrupts you by accident I know for a FACT that he's sticking up for you making sure you're heard and understood.

On another note, he really does love your voice, I mean he loves everything about You but your soft voice really does calm him in the best way.

It's a canon thing that children of Aphrodite have the most magical eyes and I know he can just absolutely lose himself in yours, he would definitely throw some compliments your way.

Speaking of insecurities and struggles, Percy has had his fair share of insecure moments and while he is more on the social side, he completely understands if you need to kinda take a break from people

and though he hasn't had younger siblings to take care of he is 100% there for you. (Yk how in the show he tells Annabeth to "Be A Kid" I think he would be like that for you too) He would want you to of course put yourself first, yes being there for your siblings is important but taking time for yourself is vital :)

And when you feel like your judgment may be clouded I think Percy knows how to balance that out well and be reasoning with you too

OOOh and the sense of humor, I know Percy has very witty and dry humor at times- I can picture you both throwing out line after line of sarcastic remarks trying to one up the other

He loves the banter you guys might have during quests you're both on or in camp on a regular morning during breakfast, he would just love to joke around with you

Following that earlier point I made- when you pressure yourself too much and sort of spiral, whether it's because of your parents or because of school, Percy is always there to reassure you, and while an 85 to you may be disappointing to him it deserves high, high praise.

I think he would try to work with you to not be so hard on yourself, like when you have to be there for your siblings, your parents, for school, and additionally for camp too??!! You need to just take a breather and he is totally up for that. He would be the first person at your cabin door knocking with some movie snacks (chocolate included) and be down for a binge watching session of your favorite anime or other comfort shows <3

BAKING- okay so, You and Percy bake one night at camp when you sneak into the kitchens after curfew. You came prepared with your hair tied back, apron on and ready. Percy on the other hand was in pajamas with his hair in his eyes but nonetheless was so excited to be there. You both get out your ingredients and when you begin making blue cupcakes. While you are practically a pro at this, Percy is getting batter on himself and on his workspace and while he's stirring some even flies into your hair. You yelp in surprise and flick some batter from your spoon onto his shirt, thus begins your blue-batter-food war. Safe to say you only had enough batter for a few cupcakes but you guys had fun regardless.

I see Percy's personality and yours meshing well together, especially your love languages, when you're a demigod you live a risky life so you're never sure if you'll make it back from a quest to your loved ones, because of this (Percy especially since he's a kid of the big 3) you and Percy make it a point to take a few days out of the weeks you're at camp to dedicate them to each other, he would love to just sneak you into his cabin and cuddle up on a cool night and just talk with you, (yk the meaningful convos people have late at night? thoseee) he would talk about anything with you, running his fingers through yours long hair, he would memorize every expression you make. He'd memorize everything about you to imagine to himself whenever he's a part from you

I hope you enjoyed the matchups ( I absolutely love the match up you gave me <3 )

*also lmk if you're interested in another matchup bc I equally see you with Jason and would love to write for you and him too :) *

Thank you!!

-Anna

#matchups #fluff #headcannons #pjo x reader #percy jackson #pjo #drabble #matchup

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xbadnews-a · 11 months

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so I headcanon Percy as having bpd & I wanted to make a post about it, breaking down a piece of his mental state. one day I'll do a complete post about his mental state/how it progresses & how he processes to world as it passes but I have been wanting to make this post for, like, forever now so here we go. starting off, I'm going to clarify that Percy internalizes a lot of these feelings as well. certain behaviors still show up but he doesn't always know how to show people his emotional trigger-finger. percy experiences a lot of this internally & a lot of it externally. he's semi-functional but his emotions can be debilitating when he grants them the control they want to have over his body... also it's worth noting that percy's favorite person is keyleth in almost any circumstance thank you lets Begin

a general feeling of emptiness. so we'll start by talking about this, one of the defining characteristics of bpd. percy has a hard, hard time pinpointing who he is with the level of intensity he operates at. it's very very difficult for him to connect himself to the moment because he gets caught up in so many emotional highs. it's easier for him to go ' I did something in the past ' than ' I am doing something right now 'because he doesn't always recognize himself in the moment & that leaves him feeling very detached from any half-formed sense of self.

high sensitivity. there's this theory about bpd that I really think applies there. percy was a sensitive kid in a non-affirming environment growing up. what does this mean? well, it means he was always going to be someone who picked up on emotion really easily. but where a lot of parents will soothe their children & comfort them, the De Rolo's were not particularly affectionate with their children. Some of the siblings got along better than others but overall there wasn't a lot of affirming parental care.

so his brain never learned how to regulate the level at which he experiences distress. whether this is sadness, anger, or the feeling of being abandoned - he feels it at a much higher level than what may be considered ' normal '.

so when it comes to emotion, his nerves are usually on fire trying to sort through the feelings.it's part of why he keeps them tangled up on the inside. because if he starts to undo any emotional knots he may fall apart entirely. feelings also tend to linger a lot longer than what is ' logical'. in his brain, he can recognize that he shouldn't be angry about something a day, a week, or a month after it happens & still be pissed off about it. it's also worth noting that he's super irritable because his emotions are super raw but we already know this.

fear of abandonment. so we've already touched briefly on his emotional sensitivity. but because he is very receptive to negative emotions, he tends to expect the worst. he expects people to leave him on a whim because where a self-critical thought may pass through a 'normal' brain he adopts it as something that temporarily defines him ( until he moves on to his next definition of self ) & assume that is also all the people around him can see as well.

he also has a lot of guilt from his strong emotional reactions & considers that grounds for abandonment. if he splits on someone or is particularly harsh to them he doesn't forget it. he often feels terrible about it & expects that it is the reason the other person is looking for to leave him. if someone calls him out for something he's done ( even if they are in the right ) he starts to feel empty & abandoned even if he logically knows he's still loved.

aches for companionship while imposing isolation on himself. percy can be very clingy with the people he loves or he can shut them out entirely. it's sort of a cat thing in the 'I'm only gonna be clingy when I want to be clingy ' sort of way if that makes sense?

he walks an emotional tightrope of ' too much or not enough ' because again he cannot regulate his emotions well enough to find a midground between each impulse. he can't decide what the right ratio is for him if he doesn't know who he is. he'll still be seeking approval even when he puts this distance between himself & the people he wants it to come from. it results in a lot of self-hurt feelings because he assumes if he's not getting the attention that he's seeking, someone is upset with him.

emotional tunnel vision. because of the intensity at which he experiences emotion, he sometimes has difficulty empathizing with the people around him. he has very biased empathy in the sense that he's sensitive to rejection & negative emotion but doesn't always understand when approval or positive emotion is being given. again, he expects abandonment so that's what he's looking for. it's also often what he assumes the people around him are looking to do

dissociation. also because of the high-intensity emotions he experiences, he's prone to checking out almost entirely. which plays more into the distance he feels from his already wavering sense of self. this also has to do a little bit with that self-imposed isolation I mentioned earlier.

when he hits an emotional high that is too high/potentially triggering he can & will check out almost entirely. I feel like this is part of why Percy assumes he's stuck in a dream after vox machina pulls him out of that cell. he can't entirely connect with that high of having people who he not only cares about but also care about him. it's too intense of a feeling ( a feeling of happiness, fear, love, danger it's just Too Much until he looks at it in hindsight after being with them for a while. he subscribes to that delusion instead of feeling it in full )

he can & will adopt the goals of the people around him. I've talked about this a lot 1x1 with others but a lot of Percy's love language is reflecting what people need out of him. it's part of why he's so quick to get into a crazy ritual with a bunch of friendly strangers, why he doesn't hesitate to give them all of his money. because that is what they are interested in & doing & he wants to be a part of that whether or not it aligns with goals he's otherwise set for himself.

this is a form of communication not only rooted in love. he sees something that helps someone in front of him survive & adopts it as a potential piece of whatever he defines himself at the moment. I have a headcanon about Ripley taking over Percy's workshop & having him help her in it to weaponize his safe space but it backfired because he just starts picking up pieces of her as a survival tactic. he's sensitive to the feelings she's putting out there & raises them like a shield to protect himself. that will get a post entirely on it's own sometime.

self-destructive behaviors. percy doesn't always take his bodily safety into account when doing things because a) he doesn't care b) the pain sort of regulates some level of emotion for him. it's grounding. it's why he's not very careful in his workshop or a battlefield [ or in scary tombs ] because if he gets hurt it's a means of feeling something.

Unfortunately, this also gets the people he loves in danger because his lack of self-preservation comes from a self-centered view. it's that tunnel vision from earlier coming into play. he'll be working on a project, know something is going to explode & not step away because he is waiting for that fire-to-skin contact. something that doesn't affect him permanently but can give at least a few hours of physical feeling outside of internal feeling.

splitting. I've talked about Percy's irritability & how he is searching for a reason people may want to leave him. I've also talked about how he has very biased empathy when it comes to recognizing negative emotions. when he's triggered in certain ways, he will get scared. then he will get angry.

he can be the happiest guy in one moment but if he perceives abandonment ( whether or not it's there ) he can take it very personally & get pissed off over something that may have even been super small, to begin with. certain trauma-related topics can also trigger him as well ( ex: bring up Ripley & he will get Pissed off & Terrified as he would be with her right in front of him. ex 2: bring up Vex's death & he will revert to that feeling of 'I almost lost her & it's my fault ' in all its intensity )

limited to no sense of the future. we've already talked about him being unable to pin down his sense of self but this also has to do with long-term thoughts. without a sense of self, he doesn't have a solid sense of the future. it's hard to look forward when he's stuck looking back, leaving him at the moment very lost & operating on these emotional highs we've talked about. it's not always a terrible thing. his instinct is sometimes wildly creative & useful. it can also be a massive liability.

#headcanon.#hello it's 8:30 in the morning & i haven't slept #i am not done talking on this subject by any means but this is a solid starting point i think #i need to go to bed now #what do i even tag this as #i tried to leave it informational as i could #i'll have another post soon detailing how it affects relationships & appears on the outside but this is like #just Basic Things he experiences because of it

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blorbologist · 2 years

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Cataclysm-tempered and your comfort turns to carnage for grog, preferably focused on his bonds with VM?

30. Cataclysm-tempered.

Dinosaurs and mammals both became super cool and weird due to the extreme conditions of the Triassic (or, if some traits predate this, they at least were very useful). To handle the hot and dry climate, dinos had primitive feathers and the beginnings of their complex pneumatic system, while mammals burrowed, sweat and got fur. Both got upright to better move efficiently, with mammals developing a gallop while dinosaurs got on their hind legs. And these traits are responsible for a lot of the dominance of the age of dinosaurs and age of mammals.

02. Turn comfort into carnage.

There’s a couple of cell groups in the mouse brain where mild stimulation results in a nice behavior (parental care / comforting grooming) but too much stimulation of those same cells makes shit get uh Bad (infanticide / attack).

Grog has a hunch - y’know, a hunch - that sometimes people think he’s stupid.

It’s nothin’ to be angry about - sometimes peoples’ are smarter than others. Or less. It’d be like getting huffy some big ol’ beefcake is bigger than he is.

It does mean that he’s usually the last person they tell, for a lot of things. Like they just assume he won’t notice. And that? Yeah, that does hurt.

So he starts takin’ watch. And notes - notes thanks to Pike who taught him enough letters. Sometimes he even remembers what he means to say with them. It’s truly magical.

He notices Pikey limpin’, just a little, after their last big brawl in the Crucible. So he hauls her onto his shoulders with a laugh, like it’s part of the show, and keeps her there. Or on a chair, and he rattles his fist on the table to roar the barmaid get her more ale before she gets up, and carries her to her bed when they’re both sloshed, ‘cause the stairs are too big for her to jump drunk.

Percy keeps rubbin’ his nose in books, after he gives Grog his glasses. Just absolutely stickin’ his nose into them. It’s easy enough to get him some of the ones Pike’s been lending him - they have bigger letters, see? He makes this whole gurgling noise, but he does look through it.

Vex keeps pokin’ him and Vax and Keyleth about money, about if they’ve got enough and how they’re spending it and are they sure they’re doin’ the numbers right. It’s really, really hard, but Grog tries counting, keepin’ track. And maybe he’s a little off, but at least Vex has a startin’ point.

Vax, well, he’s got these shitty tiny little daggers - except Whisper, that ones’ cool. But he sure used that longsword of Percy’s well against Thordak. It’s tough, getting a good sword for someone so stringy - ‘cause good ones have heft to them, two-handed, y’know - but he does find him a nice one, gets the lady blacksmith to turn the metal black. And then he hands it to Vax the one time he douses his bed in beer while he’s sleeping.

Keyleth had been in there, too. Oops. Kinda hard to make it up to her - because Keyleth had almost everythin’ handled, or would ask for help if not. And even though she’s a beanpole too, she can turn into big shit to get things done. It takes some thinking, but Grog gives talking a try. Telling her the flowers are pretty, even if he don’t know what they are. Asking how she’s doing, if leading is going okay. And he thinks it helps.

Tary’s also hard, because he - he just buys everythin’ he wants. Giving him more gold just feels stupid. So Grog waits outside Percy’s workshop, one night, right? And grabs Tary when he leaves and tells him very nicely to stop shouting, and picks ‘em up n puts him to the side. And tells him he’s sorry, for that first day. Really sorry, and maybe he could be, like. A model, for Doty two. 2.0. However it was. Because he was big and strong and Doty should be big and strong, and hopefully a good friend like Grog, too.

Grog is a good friend.

He is.

He really, really hopes he is.

Because when Scanlan came back, and came back different, and came back with a new big guy, he really, really didn’t want to notice anything he needed. He just wanted a drink and wanted someone to try harder to be his friend, maybe, this time.

(Send me a prompt and I’ll write a ficlet, a HC or an AU idea + share the science fact that inspired the prompt!)

#prompt #fic prompt #birthday prompt game #critical role #critical role fic #cr fanfic #grog strongjaw #vox machina #campaign 1

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electricopolis-net · 2 years

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S02E06: The Game Show Killer (Part 2)

2. The New Normal

Bob Sparker remembered the feeling of the VHS tape inside his jacket, the hard plastic pressing against his ribs. He remembered laughing as he walked home, swaying from side to side, bruised and aching from his altercation at the Paradise Hotel. Paulina Sweet had tried to make him defect from his company, and her henchmen had beaten him when it hadn’t worked, but Bob was the one who had stolen the only bargaining chip she had.

The tape was a gritty, grainy, almost certainly faked piece of evidence implicating Percy King in rigging his game shows. There were too many holes in her story to make it likely that she was telling the truth, but it didn’t matter one way or the other. Bob was nothing like her, and Mr. King was nothing like that. Neither of them could be manipulated so easily. After all, not even a string of scandals could oust Sparker from his place at the top of the ratings.

So he returned to his work with a newfound zeal. He watched over his contestants, cheered them as they endured the gauntlet of electric shocks, and far more often comforted them as they surrendered; and more than one, this time, left in a stretcher. But that was fine, because there were always more lining up to take their place. His electric chair was never empty.

And gradually, contestant by contestant, episode by episode, Bob Sparker began to change…

Margaret King stood in the corner of Bob Sparker's dressing room, her arms folded in disdain. The star himself was seated at his large mirrored vanity, with Mr. Percy King, his boss and Margaret's father, seated close by.

“What’s wrong with these people?” Bob complained loudly, pulling at his white hair with his brush. “Mr. King, you gotta get me some better contestants. These ones are made out of paper. They can’t even take a little shock.”

“They can take a little shock,” Margaret said, “but that's not what you're giving them. You have to be more careful, Bob.”

“She has a point,” Percy mused, stroking his chin. “Remember what happened with Miss Lang.”

“Miss Lang was a fluke,” Bob snapped. “How long are you two gonna lord that over me? Besides, if you got me someone bigger--someone tougher--then we wouldn't have to worry about it, right?”

“You're missing the point,” Margaret argued. “These aren't just toys for you to play with, Bob. They're real people.”

“They’re real people who line up around the block to get a shot on my show,” he retorted, jabbing his hairbrush towards her. “As far as I'm concerned, for the half-hour I've got them in that electric chair, I can do whatever I want to them!”

“Within reason,” Percy coughed.

“Within reason,” Bob added quickly. “And they eat it up and beg me for more. You've seen them,” he said. “So what's the problem?”

“The problem is--” Margaret struggled to get the words out. She gestured emptily, frustrated, and then finally turned to her father. “Dad, tell him it's not right!”

Percy glanced between them, his brow furrowed in thought, and then he let out a nervous, unnatural-sounding laugh. “Now, now, no fighting,” he said patronizingly. “Margie, you don't have to worry. I'll make sure to find someone sturdy enough for Bob's show.”

“That's not what I--” she began.

“Actually, there is something,” he said, opening one eye slowly. “Have you heard of this fellow making the rounds on daytime TV?”

“Who?” Bob asked. “The guy who won at the quiz show? The one with the bag on his head?”

“The very same. He was on The Twenty-One just last week and swept the whole show. A flawless victory, start to finish.”

Bob rolled this around in his mind. “That blackjack show? What, did he count cards or something?”

Percy shook his head. “Impossible. They have a machine shuffle after every hand. I had a look at the footage,” he explained. “It looks legitimate to me. It’ll have to go to air, now. Not a good look for The Twenty-One.”

“Yeah, well, that’s their problem.” Bob nearly turned around again before doing a double take. “Wait, are you saying you want that guy on my show? Seriously?”

“Why not? He’s certainly drumming up some hype.”

“Hah!” Bob Sparker barked out his sharp, high-pitched laugh. “Gambling and memorizing trivia answers is one thing, but that doesn’t mean he can make it in the electric chair. Gimme a call when he does something really amazing.”

Percy smiled. “Well,” he said slyly, “rumor has it that he’s supposed to be running Concrete Jungle right now. Maybe you should turn on the television and take a look.”

Bob stared at him for a moment suspiciously, then grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV that sat in the corner of his dressing room.

Concrete Jungle was a physical challenge show where athletes scaled an obstacle course. On the television, there was a slow pan up a twisted structure of metal and piping. On the starting platform, high up above the crowd, was the indistinct silhouette of a man.

“Our next contestant wishes not to be named,” whispered the show’s commentator. “He’s known by his fans as the ‘Game Show Killer.’”

The camera cut to a close-up; his body looked disappointingly average. Bob expected either the lithe, sinewy runner-type that usually excelled on Concrete Jungle or, his favorite, the hulking sides of beef who likely pushed people around at their day job. This man was neither. His eyes peered out from his dark executioner’s hood, and, wordlessly, he stepped forward to begin.

“So that’s your mystery man,” Margaret said. “Why’s he hiding his face?”

“Not even I know the answer to that one,” Percy confessed. “But maybe Bob here can be the one to find out. Now, look. He’s starting.”

The bell sounded. The man rocketed forward off of the starting area with a running leap. He tucked and rolled carefully as he hit the next platform, and then the next. He jumped up, grasping the rings that dangled from a bar, and swung his body through the air. The man’s movements were practiced, workmanlike, almost mechanical. Despite that, there was a piercing look in his eyes, a hunger that Bob recognized but couldn’t place. Who was this guy?

Suddenly, flames roared up from beneath him. Sweat began to bead on his arms and legs. His hand slipped--he swayed--he recovered--and Bob Sparker realized he’d been leaning forward, right on the edge of his seat.

The masked man shimmied up a rope, picked up a rubber hammer, and swung it hard at the bell. The sound roared out over the cheers of the audience as a rain of confetti fell from above.

“Well.” Bob leaned back and turned off the TV. “I see why you like him.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know. Something about him annoys me. The ‘Game Show Killer.’ Hmph.” Bob kicked up his feet and crossed one leg over the other. “Winning over and over...it goes right to your head. I think I’d be doing him a favor by taking him down a peg, don’t you think?”

“Doing him a favor?” Percy chuckled. “Now, now. You don't have to justify it to me. If you want him, he's yours.”

Margaret glanced between Bob Sparker and her father, the two of them laughing with each other. A chill crawled along her arms, followed by the prickle of anger. She turned and grabbed the doorknob, shutting the door with a slam.

She stood there outside the dressing room, rubbing at her face with her hands. Fine, she thought. Put him on. I hope he really does kill your show.

#eletricopolis #the game show killer #bob sparker #percy m. king #margaret king

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0littlestwolf0 · 4 years

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All that matters

Yandere! Percy Jackson

Ship: Yan!Percy Jackson x innocent/fragile reader

Warnings: Violence, over use of powers.

Requested by: @xxscreamingcolorxx

It started off innocently enough. Way too innocent for that matter, maybe that’s what ignited him.

You were just the new kid in the big apple, someone who just moved there because of your parent’s job, and like any teen would have, your mind started wandering off, imaginating all the possibilities, all the movies that could come true before your eyes!

As for him, it was just another year in yet the same school (something he was really grateful for), only the first day and he was already counting the days until he could return to camp, to his friends.

Annabeth.

The name stung him like a bee, scratch it, it felt more like an angry wasp, but he ignored it, she was the closest person he had, who could actually understand him, and hey, he did love her, maybe not in the way she did him but for all he knew that was it for everyone, maybe that’s why people say that friends end up falling in love, more like a ‘next step’ thing than actual love.

Was that even real though? He surely didn’t know, but he was comfortable with what he had, and that was good enough, so he tried to shrug the thoughts away and finished getting ready for his day.

Soon enough he was already in his seat, headphones blasting a playlist he had spent the night downloading from questionable websites, and his head between his hands, doing everything in his willpower not to start a mess.

Naturally he didn’t notice someone new entering the classroom, he tried to stay away from most others, and people didn’t really like him either, much of a troublemaker, they’d say.

His lack of social skills made sure you got a seat on your first day. But he didn’t look up as you seated, his senses did however, perk up at your perfume, some wildflower and another thing he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it reminded him of camp, so he couldn’t help inhaling even deeper, he made the silent decision to start sitting near you.

And it could have been that way, you being your a scent he liked, just another person, but the fates had other plans, as did the first teacher, who didn’t waste a second on explaining the week project to be done in pairs.

His music was gone at this point, and he sighed, he didn’t like working on teams for school. Better yet, he didn’t like ending up with whoever else didn’t have a partner. Just then he felt a finger poking his arm, with a raised brow he turned to see you.

And your breath got stuck in your throat, he was probably one of the cutest boys you had ever seen, yet, his resting face (or so you hoped it was his resting face) looked just a combination between angry and dangerous. But you didn’t listen to your gut and talked “Would- uh... Sorry! I’m new and I was wondering if you’d like to partner up?”

Your voice had to be the sweetest thing, he was already starting to take a liking to you. You see, he isn’t the type of yandere to just get obsessed, it was your scent that drew him to you, yet, your willingness to spend time with him did make him feel better.

“Are you- Yeah, sure” he had to stop himself from pointing you to another person without a partner, not yet believing you’d want to partner up with him. But your enthusiasm changed his mind.

—

Before any of you knew, the day was over and you were waiting for him on your designated spot just outside the school, it didn’t take him long to reach you.

You saw his expression change as he crossed the glass doors, first a schooled glance to the floor, not allowing himself to even look at anybody else, you didn’t understand that, he didn’t look that strong but when you touched his arm you did feel hard muscle, then, why would he avoid trouble so much?

He didn’t seem to see you at first, but he did, trust me on that, he was just afraid of you changing your mind and would very much rather if you just left than the direct confrontation, but he couldn’t understand why, why the idea of you turning your back of him turned him inside out.

But of course you didn’t, you approached him with the sweetest smile on your face and stood right in front of him “Hey!” He couldn’t hold a smile at your voice, you just sounded so eager “Should we go to the library?” Were you always this eager? No, that seemed impossible, maybe you were just happy to be with him, that certainly made his smile bigger

“Uh- I mean- Sure” he was nervous, which made him want to laugh his ass off, sure he could fight gods and monsters but send a pretty girl his way and he’d stutter “I mean, I was actually thinking we could do it on the park” he finally added, the park was a bit far, but if there were any monsters he’d be able to deflect them easily on an open place rather than a dead-quiet-library.

“Yeah! Sounds good to me!” You agreed with a sweet smile and allowed him to lead the way “Just help me with the whole getting back thing, I still don’t really know the city” he nodded eagerly, almost as much as you had before, it was an excuse to spend more time with you.

Now this didn’t concern him as cheating or misleading Annabeth, for he didn’t think you’d like him, you see, he doesn’t seem to find himself as someone most girls, especially girls like you, would feel attracted t him, so even if he felt the this growing killer bees on his stomach every time he saw you, nothing would ever happen.

You walked with him through numerous streets, he took advantage of your lack of knowledge and took you through the long path, he didn’t even notice that he’d done that at first, but you were just so engrossed on your retelling of that X-Men movie, that he wanted to hear you talk like that for hours, suddenly, you stopped, your head held down “I’m sorry, I just get a bit excited sometimes” that sobered him “No, no, it’s okay, please continue, I really want to know what happened to this Logan dude after that”

You blushed but tried to hide it with a laugh, still looking down “It’s okay, I know I can talk a lot, and it might be stressing” you added, it was your attempt to stop yourself from boring the first friend you made on that school, but it made his blood boil, people just didn’t understand you fucked up the world was, fighting every day against monsters, losing friends on the way, and how amazing it was to hear stories from someone like you, someone without the blood that he had in his hands.

“Well, I like it, and I really need more context, so the future isn’t the future then? He just changed it and that’s that?” He understood the story, but sometimes making an easy question was the easiest way to make others talk.

And you went on, you arrived to the park and sat on a desk with him, taking your supplies and started working on the project, you were open, and gave ideas, still never shut any of his, you asked for his opinion every step of the way and used almost every idea he had.

That made him feel warm, you were most likely the first person to trust his ideas and hear him without a scowl or a frown, he couldn’t understand how would anyone shut you down when you talked? Every time you looked down and scratched your arm he noticed you were stopping yourself from over sharing.

Why would anyone hurt you like that? He just wanted names, they didn’t deserve someone like you in their lives, not one bit, they deserved to suffer for making you ashamed of your words. It surprised him, really, that rage boiling inside him, and how soon it’d be gone as soon as you smiled back at him.

And then it happened, a manticore loose in the park, running around and tearing people apart, he saw the moment your instinct kicked in, you could see through the mist.

He took Riptide from his pocket and stood up, but you grabbed his arm and pulled him down, holding a finger to your lips “Don’t” was everything you said, and he gulped, maybe you did care about him a little, his mind started wandering, maybe you felt as connected to him as he did you, he wanted to nod and stay with you under the table, to keep you from danger, but the only way he knew was by killing it.

“Please” you pleased “it’s going to hurt you” he laughed humorlessly, “Not my first rodeo” was all he said as a smirk took over his mouth and winked your way, maybe he also wanted to show off a little.

It was weird, he had never wanted to show off before.

But oh well, the manticore was closing in as soon as it’s nostrils flared up with the demigod scent on him, he needed to stop thinking and start moving, natural talent and years of training in camp made it easy for him, more like a dance than a battle, not that he’d ever been good at dancing, but you get the idea.

A move to the left, an angry manticore to the right, sarcastic comment out about how bad the sun had treated the manticore’s skin and a “you should really get some moisturizer for that crack in your skin” and proceeded to stab it directly on the belly as the manticore jumped.

And he laughed, allowing the rest of adrenaline to leave him, after getting so worked up with thoughts of people hurting your feelings, killing something felt really good. Maybe too good.

He turned to look at you, and his stomach dropped, your throat was being held tightly, lifting you ever so slightly from the floor by an empusai, were monsters working together now?

Of course it would happen to him, out of all demigods in New York.

Now he realized, his blood hadn’t been boiling before, but it was now, burning his very skin from the inside, the empusai giggled and he gave a step closer, then you were struggling again “Now, now, one more move and your pet dies”

Pet? Oh now it was personal, he didn’t understand his blind rage, maybe by an outside point of view, you had reminded him of what light was, even with the ability to see monsters you saw the good in people, that much he realized from your speech about Magneto being just misunderstood.

Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he once thought but you still tried hard enough to make conversation with him, you even tried in your way to keep him safe, and now, everything he’d seen was good and worth saving was being threatened.

It didn’t took him a word, just a small move from his left hand to the side, and now it was the empusai’s blood that boiled, literally, she started crying, he didn’t stop, all the fluids in her body boiled now, and started moving inside her, desfigurating her, she screamed and let you go, he didn’t stop.

You ran to him and he threw Riptide to the ground, instantly feeling the (now lesser) weight of a pen settling on his pocket, with his now free arm he grabbed you by the showlders and held you to him.

“Don’t look” he warned, grabbing now your head and pulling it to his shoulder, one last move of his left hand to the right and the empusai’s blood chocked her to death, streaming down her ears, nostrils and eyes, her mouth forever set on a silent scream as she fell to her knees and finally turned into ichor.

Just then did he allow himself to fully hold you, his arms wrapped tightly around your as your heavy breath tickled the side of his neck, your arms wrapped just as tightly around his waist.

He realized with guilt that you were shaking, you were probably scared of him now “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he repeated in a whisper against your hair, unable to let you go.

“No” you shut him and separated your body from his by merely centimeters, his stomach dropped “I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters” you said grabbing his face, forcing his wandering eyes to stay still on yours “Survival of the fittest, right?” You joked and he allowed a worried breath to leave his body, you weren’t treating him like a freak.

He nodded and you hugged him again, just as tightly, he still felt you shiver every once in a while.

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters,

I’m okay, you’re okay, that’s all that matters.

He repeated in his head over and over like a mantra.

You were too good for this world, and if that evening showed him anything was that monsters were probably going to come for you at some point, and he wouldn’t let them get even a step close.

He promised himself then and there that no one would ever harm you, monster or otherwise. After all, the gods owed him, he could get his way this once.

#yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #yandere x reader #heroes of olympus #annabeth chase

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percabethfeelsfandom · 4 years

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Godly Parents

I’ve seen a lot of people trying to figure out who their godly parents is/are purely based on the face value of how Percy sees them and what they’re known for. For example, people claiming they cannot possibly be a child of Athena because they’re not wise or not smart. That’s not how it works.

I have always said that I was a child of Athena, and I have the tests to back me up (even though I’m also very likely a child of Poseidon)

And I don’t say this because I’m trying to become Percy or because I related on such a deep level with Percy and Annabeth and their characters. But because Athena is the goddess of knowledge, I have never known a closer, more valuable friend than words on a page. Never been so at peace than I was in the quiet of the night, reading under the covers while I know distantly owls are just waking for the night. I know I’m a child of Athena because no other god values the history of our world, the literature of our world, and it’s importance. In Athena, and in Annabeth I saw grit, determination, and I saw how they valued words in a way that spoke to my soul. And I knew. Knew that I was looking into a mirror.

On the flip side. I can see my potential as a child of Poseidon. It’s not just my inner dream and goal to be a waterbender. But it’s the utter calm that washes over me when I’m at the beach, the water lapping at my feet. The breeze in my hair. The whisper of the waves telling me I’m home. It’s the freshness of stepping into a shower, and coming out of it feeling alive. The way my temper ebbs and eases with the tide, clouding over and storming when things don’t work out. The way it slows down, to barely a ripple when things do.

Children of Hades aren’t just emo children ‘going through a phase’, they are the shadows in the group, the constant presence, laughing in the background, always there when you need them, though it may not always be obvious. They are the constantly cold hands, even in the heat of the summer. Soft voices that can command armies should they decide to. The temper that runs in their blood is different to their uncles (Zeus and Poseidon), their temper simmers, slowly growing over time, tending to it like a cold flame. These are the children of the night, burning the midnight oil, working on passion projects. You know you’re a child of the god of the dead, when you find comfort in silence, but still need that time with the people you love, because family is still family.

Children of Zeus are the leaders struggling with the pressure of being leaders. They’re the ones people turn to when things go wrong, wanting to know what to do. But they’re just trying their best. And their best is enough. They are the smell just before it rains. They are charismatic personalities that turn heads in a room. Extroverted people who thrive in crowds and gain their own personal power in being around like-minded people. They’re strong and resilient, but flighty.

Children of Hermes, keep your eye on these kids. Because they’ll pass you if you blink. And I don’t necessarily mean just by their speed. Their minds are constantly working, running, sprinting. Rivalling even the genius children of Athena and Hephaestus, these children throw themselves into work, working on half a dozen passion projects, pouring their heart in soul into them. Master on none, but master of many, indeed, they are the future entrepreneurs, innovators and CEO’s of the world. Helping the world keep going round, with the cheeky smile of their father and the smart aleck comment to match. Quick hands that never stop fidgeting, and unfocused eyes which are already thinking of the next thing to learn. They have new hobbies each week, and never bore.

Artemis

There may not be any children of Artemis. But there are hunters. They are immortal beings with grace unattainable by mere mortals. They are liquid in physical bodies, moving with ease, notching an arrow, taking aim and watching it fly. Running across fields without a sound. Braids whipping in the wind, and hair coming loose to frame faces of women who are free. Like the children on Athena their time is the night, illuminated by the moon their patron goddess rules over. The hunters are queens and princesses in their own right with their regal movements and the knowledge they have from living for decades.

Apollo

Children of Apollo are the wheels that keep camp turning. They are constantly working in tandem with the Hermes kids, always lending a helping hand, catching you when you fall, healing you when you need it. They are melodic voices and harmonious laughter. The embodiment of light, reminding you, reminding us that this is why we have art, because art and music, and everything that Apollo represents is what makes life living. They are the ones that light up rooms, drawing eyes in a crowd. People pleasers, that thrive in crowds. Similar to children of zeus, which makes sense as they are family. They may not be leaders, but they do set trends. Like the hunters, Apollo’s children have immense skill with a bow and arrow, letting arrow after arrow fly with precision and ease.

Dionysus

Children of Dionysus are the party animals. The ones with all the connections. They’re the friend that everyone references when they say ‘I know a guy’. They are the ones you can always count on to have a good time. They make you laugh so hard that you cry, they’re the ones you call when you’re upset and just want to forget about reality for a night. But they’re more than that, they work close with the children of Demeter, tending to the strawberry fields, their powers responding to the touch of their fingertips. Like their father they are stubborn, their thoughts set in and hard to break like the vines that grapes grow on. But be wary for, no matter how easy-going they may seem, they sometimes don’t know limits and can influence others to descent into the same madness that only they can control.

Demeter

Children of Demeter are the steady roots of camp. Unable to be uprooted if they don’t agree with plans. Stubborn but their feelings well intentioned. They’re always there to lend a hand. With faces tanned from time in the sun, and noses burnt, they have kind smiles and hands rough with callouses that come with working hard. They’re the one’s who seem to always know where to find the best snacks, and sneak them in to you when you need it. Like all Olympians children of Demeter are proud, tending to their plants with utmost care, always secretly thinking that theirs are the best. They are the quiet listeners of camp, taking in all of the information before speaking, acting mediator when they decide.

Aphrodite

Children of Aphrodite are the ones you turn to when all hope is lost. Because when nothing is left, there will still always be love. Beauty is subjective, but the children of Aphrodite are the pioneers for body positivity, constantly advocating for self love all around camp telling people that they are beautiful and reminding them of their self worth. They are the children you roll your eyes at, not realising the power they have in words. The true mediators of camp, calming fights between the hot heads and the stubborn blood. With hair that always seems to change colour the next time you see them, children of Aphrodite remind you that they are in fact children of a goddess, and they’re not about to let you forget.

Ares

Children of Ares are warriors from the moment they are born, but they don’t have to be. In typical olympian fashion, they are stubborn, the most stubborn of the family. But they are also the ones you talk to when someone says something bad behind your back and you want to get back at them. They persevere, they always push back and they never give up. On the field they are the ones you look to for guidance, for they show no fear. They keep to themselves in camp, preferring to stay with their siblings to avoid the way that campers look at them. But you just need to approach them like you would a cat scared of new strangers. Because they do have a soft side, because all warriors need to rest sometimes.

Hephaestus

Children of Hephaestus are the faces behind the scenes. The welders of the weapons you wield. The people that shape the shields that protect you. They are the immovable force that remains steady no matter what. Their hands always fidget wanting- needing to be tinkering something. They tend to be warmer than most demigods, their bodies naturally also more fire resistant. Working in tandem with children of Athena, they are all about creating, because without them there is no camp. They look at a junkyard and see the greatest treasure known to humankind. Turning any trash into treasure. They are soft despite their exterior, meticulous with their creations, pouring all the love and care into them that their father never received from his family. There’s an awkward edge to them but despite that they remind kindhearted, and always happy to help.

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vanillann · 3 years

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this is how you fall in love (g.w.)

“i had a nightmare but now that i’m not scared”

based off “this is how you fall in love” by chelsea cutler and jeremy zucker

warning: mention of death and nightmares

word count: 1.3k

It was all so incredibly loud, the yelling and the crashing against his mother’s arms. Freddie laid out on the stretcher with ghostly pale skin and dirt over his brow, his normal smile replace by the ghost of a smile.

Ghost.

George could only hope Fred would be a happy ghost as he held his body to his chest, he didn’t deserve to spend the afterlife in pain. Freddie never deserved pain, someone that gentle always got the short end of the stick.

Ron collapsed across from him, his body shaking as he brushes ginger hair from his eye. George had been crying so hard he couldn’t even feel the tears as they stretch the length of his face.

Freddie was dead.

He hadn't been out of Hogwarts but a year or so, yet he was on the floor of the very Great Hall the two would scream jokes at the top of their lungs. They grew up in these halls, yet he was lifeless all the same.

The room was caving in, the roof falling in as everyone ran screaming from the madness. George didn’t move, he couldn’t. He wanted to join Freddie, he didn’t want to be in a world that let young boys die for another young boy, where war was a normal Sunday afternoon.

“George.”

Freddie was calling him, he was going to see Freddie.

“George!”

The voice was panic, yelling for him to move. Did Freddie not want to see him?

“George!”

His body jolted from the pillow, his body clammy against the rough sheets of the Queen size bed. The finger on his shoulder was cool over his skin, calming his racing heart. He glanced around the room, the ceiling was perfectly intact and the dresser across from him told him he wasn’t in the Great Hall.

“Sweets?”

George jumped, whipping around to find his lover’s worried face inches from his own. Their lips in a delicate frown as their finger drew constellations over his freckles.

It was all a sick twisted dream. Fred died four years ago, he was long gone from the Burrow and the joke shop.

“Do you want something to drink?”

He couldn’t explain the release he felt hearing their voice, as if they pulled the nasty roots from his soil in order to plant the prettiest tulips. As if just their voice could ground him back to the world.

“Maybe,” his voice was hoarse, “some tea?”

They rushed from bed, their finger leaving a warmth against his skin as they hurried from the room. They didn’t bother putting on a robe in the freezing house in the late hours of a December night. George was the only thing on their mind.

He slowly eased from the bed, slipping out onto the carpet on the floor. His slippers would’ve only made his feet sweat, he was still coming down from the cold sweats, but he grabs the blue robe flung over the chair. Draping it over his arm, slowly making his way down the narrow hall of the house.

The pictures hung on the wall bought a small smile to his face, his mother and his lover holding one another and Percy with the twins before they ever entered Hogwarts. The wall on the right was dedicated to pictures of Fred, ones of (Y/N) and Fred from the Great Hall, and family pictures at the Burrow. George wished he took more pictures, he never liked how he looked enough, but he wished he would’ve just to have a small piece of Fred still with him.

His feet slide across the hardwood floor, easily finding (Y/N) rushing around the kitchen in the bright kitchen light. They glide around the room like a ballroom, their feet jumping over every loose board and missing each corner by an inch. They were used to the quirks of the kitchen they had lived in so long. They fit right in with the soft yellow walls and the green high stools as if the moment was out of a film the muggle would give awards too.

“You should’ve stayed in bed,” George was bought back, watching as they pour some tea into the mug.

“I hated the way the sheets felt on my legs,” he walked through the threshold, leaning on the small kitchen island while studying their face. Their lip held between their teeth and their eyebrows so focused on the milk mixture with the golden liquid.

“I’ll change ‘em, put the silks on,” they slide the tea across the island, trying to move around the change the sheets in the hurry. George stuck his arm out, grabbing their bicep before they could make it to the living room.

“Please don’t leave.”

Their body was beside his in a second, their finger tracing on his shoulder again, as if they weren’t running from the room seconds ago. He never thought people were meant to be fixed, no it never made sense, but he couldn’t help but feel grounded just by their touch alone.

“You always make it better,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he took a small sip from his cup. Perfect, just like he would’ve made it himself.

“I’m just here for you,” their breath fanning over his back, the sticky sweat running from the sweet breath of his lover.

“How do you do it so easily? How do you make it better?”

George never thought anyone would comfort him like Freddie, they were twins. You couldn’t match their bond, and while they didn’t, (Y/N) always could touch him on a different level. Of course, they could really touch him, like their finger on his skin or the kisses on his neck, but the grip they had on his heart was like a headlock.

“Love,” they answer would’ve made George laugh at any other time, telling them they watch too much Disney, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

“You think?”

“I know, falling in love can make things better when done right,” their chin rested on his back. He felt so at home like the nightmare was thought away in a far-off land.

“How do you do that? Falling in love?”

George knew he loved (Y/N), they’ve been saying it and showing it for years, but he never quite remember how it happened. He couldn’t recall a moment in time where he came to the conclusion, he just remembered saying it one day and saying it every day after that.

“This,” their words were confident, “this is how you fall in love.”

Maybe that’s why he couldn’t pinpoint it because there wasn’t a moment where it wasn’t like this. They always held him and made his tea perfect, never pushing to talk about anything. He always wondered about the world and they always seemed to have an answer, even when they didn’t. It had always been like this for the two, it was always like this between them. They had been slowly falling in love before every poet and writer’s very eyes, but at this moment as their finger traced stars on his back and the heat from the tea fanned over his chin, he knew his love was always this deep.

“I love you,” his arm wrapped around their shoulder, bringing them against his chest.

“I love you,” their eyelashes brushed against his pale skin, making his heart rate spike out of pure enjoyment of the domestic life before him.

He knew Freddie would be watching him, a proud smile on his face as he held on to his rock. He knew Freddie would want someone like (Y/N) to take care of him if he couldn’t do it himself.

He knew Freddie could feel the love he felt even from the afterlife.

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weasleylangs · 3 years

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bunny rabbits & a clover patch - g.w

Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Summary: All the times Y/N and George spent their days in the clover patch next to her house. Warnings: Minor character death (Y/N’s mother, it’s in the second paragraph), I guess a mention of the war but it’s like one or two lines and it’s super brief like blink and you’ll miss it. Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: A huge thank you to @whiz-bangs78 who sent me this ask for a made up title game that inspired his entire fic (although I changed the title a smidge)! Requests are open and constructive criticism is always appreciated! This is my new baby, my most favourite thing I’ve ever written so please be nice

Please let me know if you’re interested in being added to a tag list!

-----------------------------

Y/N is five years old when she moves from the bustling city of Bristol to the quaint, little magical village of Ottery St. Catchpole. She’s just now starting to get her magic, little spurts here and there. Recently she dropped a ball down the stairs of the townhouse she and her dad live in and she somehow levitated it for two seconds before it slammed into a mirror and broke it.

Y/N’s dad is a muggle, her mother was a witch and unfortunately passed shortly after she was born. Being a single dad is hard, and being the single dad to a witch when you’re a muggle is even harder, so her dad did the only logical thing he could think of.

He knew his late wife dreamed of raising Y/N surrounded by magic, to give her the childhood she never had. Y/N’s mother was an extremely gifted muggle-born witch and she wanted nothing more than to raise her children with magic in tow. So when Y/N started to exhibit magical symptoms, he reached out to some of his late wife’s friends to find the best magical village in England. If it was magic she wanted, it was magic she was going to get.

That’s how he ends up here, in a tiny cottage for two on the outskirts of the village.

He looks down at the piece of paper in his hand. It’s the address of the ‘nicest wizarding family you will ever meet’ and it turns out it’s the house on the plot of land next to his own. Scrawled in messy handwriting is the name Arthur and Molly Weasley.

He’d gotten the note from a friend, someone who works at the ministry with Arthur. He can’t provide a magical childhood for his daughter, but he hopes the lovely family that resides next to him in Ottery St. Catchpole can.

They’ve only just moved in when there’s a knock at the door. Y/N screams in excitement as her dad opens the door and she’s met with a pudgy looking woman with fiery red hair and two identically looking boys next to her. One of the boys is missing his two front teeth in the bottom row, grinning widely and the other boy is clinging to his mother’s leg, clearly more cautious than his exuberant sibling.

Y/N immediately decides they’re going to be her best friends. Even if boys have cooties and are sometimes gross.

“I’m Y/N!” she exclaims loudly, much to the dismay of her father who reminds her to use her inside voice. This makes her pout unhappily and in turn, makes the boy clinging to his mother’s leg smile.

“I’m George!” He replies, equally loud in fashion hoping to cheer the girl up. This was not George’s best idea, however, as it then causes the missing-toothed child to declare himself as Fred so loud, Molly and Y/N’s father sends them outside.

They sit themselves down on the clover patch to the right of the house and start getting to know each other. Y/N learns there're five other Weasley siblings, their youngest being their only sister named Ginny, she's a mere two years old and their oldest is William, who they both affectionately call Billy, and Y/N learns he's almost thirteen.

“Wow,” Y/N says, suddenly feeling extremely jealous. She’s an only child and while she’s only five, she has a child’s intuition that her dad isn’t ready to meet someone and bring more siblings into her life. “I’m jealous. I wish I had brothers and sisters.”

Fred puffs up his chest and grins, “We’ll be your brothers!” The grin on his face is 100% sincere and he looks so happy to gain another sister.

“Really?” Y/N questions looking at George for approval. “Of course. Are we best friends now?” He questions and Y/N eagerly nods her head.

The three of them spend their time playing tag or showing each other their ‘accidental magic’. Molly at one point calls out the window at the twins telling them they know better than to encourage underage magic but when George winks at Y/N as he somehow manages to turn her hair blue for two seconds it’s clear he doesn’t care about his mother’s warning.

“It’s okay,” he starts when he sees the look of fear rise in Y/N’s eyes, “we’re only five. If someone comes they’ll just see three magical kids and leave.”

Soon enough, Molly is muttering apologies about staying so late and trying to round up the boys to go back to their own home. Fred ends up in a tree, saying he wants to stay and poking his tongue out at his mother.

George however, is timidly looking at the clover patch they were all sitting in and plucks one, handing it to Y/N. When she examines it, she notices it’s almost a four-leaf clover, the stem is there if you look close enough, but the leaf itself is missing. “Almost luck, for you!”

He runs away at that, looking almost borderline shy and when Fred chases him all the way home, Y/N is convinced these boys will be her friends for life.

They’re eight now, and it’s a regular occurrence for Y/N and the twins to be seen together. Their parents have started referring to them as the ‘mischief trio’ because whenever the three of them are together, no one can turn their back for a second without something happening.

Y/N’s currently at The Burrow, convincing the twins to come to see her new pet bunny rabbits. Fred is reluctant, wanting to stay and play on his toy broom and trying to convince George he wants to do the same.

Fred, as usual, has an evil plan that involves the beater’s bat in their quidditch kit and Percy’s head after he told their mum that Fred was trying to fly Charlie’s broom yesterday. This resulted in Fred getting no dessert after dinner and the eight-year-old boy wants revenge.

“I don’t know, Freddie,” George starts, looking at the small girl to his left. They might only be children, but the twins are already growing taller and Y/N can barely keep up anymore, “I kind of want to meet the bunnies.”

“Come on, Georgie! Percy’s a prat and we need to get him back!” Fred dramatically exclaims as he flops his body onto the couch in the living room. As usual, it’s we, Y/N is always roped into the twins’ plans, and while she usually doesn’t mind, today isn’t the day for it. Fred never really knows when it’s time to be quiet, always wanting to be on the go and this pops an idea into Y/N’s head.

“Daddy got cows recently,” she begins and she notices how that immediately grabs Fred’s attention. He loves cows, whenever he’s in the car with Y/N and her father he points them out every time they see one, “you sure you don’t want to come to meet them?”

Fred is out the door quicker than you can say pranks, running towards the fence that divides their two properties. Y/N and George have to stop and tell Molly where they’re going because Fred left so hastily, that he didn’t even tell anyone before. After Molly sighs and gives them permission that the twins don't really care if they get, George grabs Y/N’s hand and runs out the door after his brother.

When they finally catch up to him, Fred's face is bright red from exertion, almost matching his hair and his eyes are bright and wide. Y/N’s dad only got two cows at first, testing the waters with how he’d feel looking after them but Fred is in absolute awe.

George pushes him over the fence as he’s laughing, telling him to hurry up so they can get out of the blasting summer sun. George and Y/N slowly make their way back over to the clover patch and Fred stays near the cows. He’s watching them shyly and Y/N thinks this is the only time he’s ever seen him calm and quiet- not wanting to scare the cows.

“This is Ruby,” Y/N says as she places the small, white rabbit on George’s lap. He looks nervous like he’s worried about dropping or squeezing the bunny rabbit too hard but when he settles, the bunny is content sitting in his lap.

“This is Cutiepie, I named him!” Y/N says proudly about the black bunny rabbit in her hands, “he’s my best friend.”

George looks up at Y/N at that and before he can say anything, Y/N is giggling, “Don’t look so worried, Georgie. You’ll always be my number one...” she pauses for a moment, and looks between Fred and the bunny rabbit in her hand before giggling, “just don’t tell Freddie.”

The two of them sit in comfortable silence, admiring the two bunnies as they eventually clamper down their laps and start hopping around. George is mesmerised- the only pets he’s ever had have been the chickens, an owl and the gnomes if you count them and he hopes Y/N will have him over every day to play with the bunnies. And hang out with her of course.

“Why did you want to come to hang out with the bunnies?” Y/N soon questions, curious as to why George chose the calmness over chaos. They both look over at Fred, who’s now bent at the knees looking like he’s going to run at a cow.

“I don’t know,” George shrugs, he didn’t know why he wanted to spend time sitting in one spot instead of pranking his older brother with Fred, “Bunnies are cool, I’ve never met a bunny before.”

Y/N hums in agreement, she thinks bunnies are the coolest pets someone could have and she’s glad George agrees. If George didn’t like bunnies, she thinks she’d have to demote him to number two best friend and while she loves Fred, she doesn’t want to do that.

It’s the day the three of them have been waiting for as long as they can remember. They’re on Platform 9 ¾, trying to get away from their parents and onto the train.

“I’ll miss you so much, sweetie,” her dad says, and Y/N thinks she might cry. She’s never been far away from her dad for long periods of time. The longest she’s ever been away from him was two days and even then, she was just at The Burrow.

But now she’s leaving for school and it’s all the way in Scotland, which to an 11-year-old moving away for magical boarding school, is forever away from her family. Tears well up in her eyes and her dad pulls her into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says pulling away and wiping the tears that have fallen from his daughter’s eyes, “your mother would be proud too. Now remember, stick with Percy and Charlie, Molly told me they’ll look after you.” Bill had graduated earlier in the year, leaving the 2nd and 3rd oldest Weasley brothers to mentor ‘mischief trio’ as they navigated Hogwarts.

“Please make sure the twins don’t get into too much trouble,” Molly says, pulling the small girl into a hug, but she knows it’s useless. Where Fred and George go, Y/N goes too and detention is included.

They eventually make it onto the train, Y/N noticing the tears in her dad’s eyes as he waves to her. They look around for a few moments, trying to find an empty compartment.

They eventually find one with just one boy in it who looks around their age. He’s got dreadlocks in his hair and he already looks bored. When he notices the doors open, he smiles widely and ushers the three of them to come sit with him.

“I’m Lee,” he introduces himself and after the introductions are done they find out he’s also in their year and convinced he’s going to be in Gryffindor.

“Us too!” The twins shout at the same time. Their entire family are in Gryffindor and while the Weasley’s are by no means a strict wizarding family, the twins would feel quite odd if they weren’t sorted into Gryffindor.

Y/N however, did not know what house she’d be sorted into. Her mother had been in Ravenclaw but she didn’t believe she had any of the Ravenclaw attributes. Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice George shuffling closer to her and tapping her gently.

“Are you okay?” He asks and Y/N nods her head, contemplating if she should express her worry to George. She knows it’s silly, but now she’s starting to get a bit worked up. Worried that after all these years, her and George will drift apart, especially if they’re in different houses and definitely if she’s in Slytherin. “Just worried. What if… What if we drift apart, Georgie?” she whispers.

George hates to admit he’s had the same worry and the look on Y/N’s face tells George this is the first time she’s even considered this and it’s killing him. He’s grown quite affectionate for Y/N over their six years of friendship. Molly and Y/N’s dad have jokingly asked when’s the wedding numerous times and while they both yell about cooties, George’s face gets the tiniest bit red every single time the joke is mentioned.

“I promise we won’t. Remember what I said the day we became friends? Best friends, and best friends are a forever kind of thing,” he promises, holding out his pinky for Y/N to wrap her own around and they stamp each other’s thumb with their own. Their way of promising each other.

“Remember, if you break the promise, Georgie, your thumb breaks,” she says with full sincerity and George remembers the one time he gave her this exact threat. She had cried for 20 minutes thinking that she’d accidentally made an Unbreakable Vow over getting ice-cream with him at Diagon Alley and poor nine-year-old George was forced into comforting Y/N and apologised profusely.

Fred and Lee are talking animatedly about quidditch (Fred can’t wait to be a beater and while Lee isn’t big on sports, he thinks he’d be a great commentator) when Y/N spots George rifling through his bag.

He pulls out a photograph and smiles as he looks down at it. It’s the last picture they took together before summer ended. Y/N’s dad took it on his muggle camera so it’s not moving, but George doesn’t mind. They’re smiling widely, bigger than they’ve ever smiled before and holding their wands they just got at Diagon Alley. They, of course, are standing in their clover patch, Y/N trying to hold the black bunny rabbit and wand at the same time and her dad clicked the capture button just as Cutiepie tried to jump out of Y/N’s arms.

It makes him laugh every time he looks at it, but seeing the worry still in Y/N’s brow, he thinks she needs the photo more than he does. “Here,” he says, nudging her briefly and handing her the photo. “When you’re worried we’re drifting, look at this and remember you’re stuck with me forever.”

Y/N’s eyes well with tears, this is the sweetest gesture anyone has ever done for her. “Thanks, Georgie. You’re stuck with me as well,” she says, tucking the picture into her robe pocket that rests over her heart.

Summer of ‘92 arrives fast and once again, Y/N spends most of her time at The Burrow causing mayhem. Today, her dad’s at work and while he 100% trusts his daughter to be home alone, he does not trust her best friends, so she waltzes over to The Burrow, walking in like she’s lived there her whole life, kisses Molly hello on the cheek and runs around, trying to find her boys.

It’s scorching, way too hot for summer in Devon and all the Weasley siblings who still live at home have decided to go swimming in the pond. They started playing Marco Polo until Fred started cheating by running outside of the pond so he wouldn’t get caught and then tried to play Chicken fight until Ginny fell off of George’s shoulders and almost hit her head.

Now, everyone’s calmed down and just relaxing. George and Y/N are cuddled up and floating around and it’s making her heart race. In the last year, her feelings for George have developed from platonic to romantic and being this close to him, while not unusual, is making her heart race. But it doesn’t last long, and soon enough Fred splashes them to get their attention.

“I’m tired and I need a nap, I’m going inside,” Fred says, eyeing his best friends. He’s had the assumption that something is going on with them for a while, and while he’d love to meddle, this is George and Y/N and there’s an unspoken rule between the three of them that involves not messing with each other.

So George and Y/N decide to get out of the pond and make their way over to Y/N’s house. They sit themselves down in their clover patch and quickly get the bunnies out. It’s a tradition at this point, and this is their spot. This is the place they tell each other everything, almost everything in Y/N’s case and the place nothing else matters but each other.

Cutiepie and Ruby are getting older now, but they’ve had babies and now there’s plenty of bunnies surrounding the pair of friends. George picks one of the babies up and nurses it, having gotten over his fear of squishing them long ago. He pulls faces at them that cause Y/N to laugh and George loves it.

He loves making her laugh.

“How weird is it that we had You-Know-Who on the back of Quirrell's head, teaching us all year?” George says. They both heard the stories first hand from Harry, Ron and Hermione. The school year they just finished being ridiculous for the three first years, but Y/N can’t help the anxious bubble forming in her throat.

“I’m scared, Georgie,” she says, turning to face him and the fear in her eyes is obvious, “We’re only young but whatever’s happening seems like it’s going to be happening fast now Harry’s at school.” She sniffles, and George thinks he’s put his foot in his mouth. So he does the only thing he knows how to do.

He shuffles closer to Y/N and wraps his arms around her, difficult because of the two bunnies in their laps but he makes it work. “I’m always going to protect you, don’t worry,” he says confidently. He doesn’t know how or when he’d need to protect her, but she must know just how much she means to him.

They sit in silence, just listening to each other breathing and patting the bunnies in their lap. The silence between them is always comfortable, nine years of friendship does that to you. But George is itching to ask something, ask something that could change everything. He’s noticed, recently, that while himself and Fred are at quidditch practice, Y/N and Lee are getting closer.

Sometimes, when Oliver sets quidditch practice on the weekends, Y/N and Lee go to Hogsmeade together and George wonders why he has an icky feeling in his stomach when he hears about their days when that happens.

“Can I ask you something?” George asks and there’s no backing out now. He has no plans to confess, not at age 14 when he doesn’t think he needs a relationship, but he needs to know or he might, as Fred would say dramatically, die. When Y/N hums in agreement and turns to remove herself from his arms, his heart starts beating faster and before he can even stop himself, he’s blurting out the question-

“Are you dating Lee?”

Y/N stares at him in shock, not entirely convinced he hasn’t picked up her feelings for him and then she laughs. She laughs hard. And George is so confused that he starts laughing as well.

“Me and Lee?” She questions between giggles, “There’s no way, he’s like,” she laughs again at the thought of her and Lee dating, “he’s like in love with Angelina. It’s ridiculous.”

George realises how dumb he sounds. Lee’s feelings for Angelina have been so obvious, especially when he decides to comment on how good-looking she is during matches now that he’s the quidditch commentator. But George always thought he was joking and from his perspective, it always seemed like Lee had a small thing for Y/N.

“Lee and I are a no go,” she says when George doesn’t say anything besides his awkward laughter, “I.. I think I like someone else, but I don’t know. I’m 14 for crying out loud,” she laughs, “I don’t know what love is.”

She’s lying, she’s 100% sure love is what she feels with George Weasley. The way she feels with the twins is different. Fred is chaos personified and she knows if she’s ever hurt, Fred will be the first person to go after whoever hurt her, no matter who it is. But George is comforting, like home-cooked meals and Molly’s sweaters personified and she’s sure this is what love is.

George pretends to agree, they’re both as clueless as each other in regards to their feelings. George knows what love is, and it’s what he feels for his best friend who’s sitting with him in their tiny clover patch.

Y/N’s heart is aching. She hasn’t seen the twins in weeks and without seeing George every day, her days are a little bit duller. She understands he’s been busy, after all, opening the most anticipated joke shop in Diagon Alley is bound to take up most of your time, but Y/N misses the days when she could yell for her best friend and he’d come running, no questions asked.

Y/N’s short term boyfriend has just broken up with her and she longs for the comfort she knows the lanky, 18-year-old ginger could give her. They weren’t together long and she knows she should never have tried to date someone while she thinks she’s still in love with George, but it still hurts.

So, she’s sitting in the clover patch as usual. She still lives at home, her father being accommodating while there’s a war raging in the Wizarding World and he understands it’s hard to get a job these days.

She always sits there when she needs the comfort of George and he’s nowhere near. Today is one of those days. Everything is building up and she needs him but she doesn’t want to be a bother. They owl back and forth most days and he’s always talking about how much work he has to do.

She’s been laying in the clover patch, their clover patch, for so long the sun is starting to set and when she sits up she sees him.

George doesn’t miss the red-rimmed eyes and the messy hair that’s covered in grass. He notices the confused look on her face and he picks up a clover and conjures it into a bouquet of wildflowers as he walks over to her.

“Hi, darling,” he says, sitting down and passing her the bouquet. Y/N is trying her hardest to pretend like her heart isn’t swooning but it is, and it’s all George’s fault. “Your dad owled me. Said you needed some George time,” he chuckles quietly and Y/N lets out a groan.

Of course, her dad decided to meddle.

“Hey, don’t stress,” George says as he sees the look of annoyance on her face, “I don’t mind. I told you I’m always here for you, didn’t I?” She hates that he’s right.

“You did,” she starts, “but you’ve been so busy. You don’t deserve to be forced into listening to my boy troubles.” She’s mocking herself now and George lightly pushes her and shakes his head. Anything upsetting Y/N is worth listening too and he’d listen to her drone on about a broken muggle device if it meant she wasn’t bottling her emotions up.

“Sean broke up with me, said I wasn’t in it enough for him, which…” She trails off, debating whether she should continue, “he wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t in it enough for him but it still sucks,” she mutters.

George is well aware she just got out of a relationship and he’s also well aware they’ve been friends, for now, thirteen years and if anything was going to happen between them, it would have happened by now. But he can’t help but feel the slightest bit happy when he hears they’ve broken up.

“Do you want to talk about why?” He enquires trying to be a good friend. Y/N falls flat on her back and sighs as she looks up at the sky above her, “I’ve been in love with the same person since I was 14 and I think I was trying to get over him? Or is that too specific?” she laughs but George knows she isn’t joking.

“Why… Why haven’t you told them?” He asks, hoping to all four founders of Hogwarts that Y/N is talking about him. She looks at him, a glint in her eye and she decides she needs answers. She needs to know if her feelings for George Weasley are ever going to be reciprocated or if she needs to get over him.

“Scared. We’ve been friends for so long…” She hints and she hopes to Godric he gets the hint and doesn’t think she’s talking about Fred, but decides to say more just in case, “He’s tall, funny, ginger, an incredible quidditch player, great with animals…”

“You like Charlie?” He teases to hide the excitement bubbling in his chest and she has to resist the urge to slap him. But she caught the glint of happiness in her eyes and he doesn’t even have to speak for her to know her feelings are reciprocated.

She launches herself into his lap, almost pressing him into a bunny when he falls backwards and she straddles his waist, pressing kisses over his cheeks, “No! I love you, George Fabian Weasley!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he exclaims, swatting her away, “What if I didn’t love you back?” He teases, eyebrows raised and Y/N lets out a cackle of laughter, “I know you, George Weasley, the look in your eye made it obvious you were excited I love you.”

It’s George’s turn to smile like an idiot as he rolls them over and presses his lips to hers, finally. Thirteen years of friendship, four years of loving her and he was not prepared for this kiss to knock the wind out of his lungs. All the love he feels for her is reciprocated and he feels like the happiest man in the entire world.

When they pull apart, George’s eyes are transfixed on hers. The redness disappearing and being replaced by what he can only assume is absolute pure joy. She blushes and turns her head, not being able to handle the attention he’s giving her and when George tries to follow her eyes, his own eye catches something.

He reaches up above her head and plucks something out of the ground before showing it to her. “A four-leaf clover,” he whispers and George can’t help but think it’s fate. The day they became friends he’d found almost a four-leaf clover and the day they became more, he found a real one.

“Your lucky day, boyfriend,” she winks as she pulls him into another kiss, but he stops her and she gives him a pout, “Who said I was your boyfriend?” He teases and the look of fear that flickers across Y/N’s face is reminiscent of the day he threatened her with a broken thumb.

“I- I- Sorry, I assum-” He cuts her off with a kiss, laughing against her lips, “You just didn’t give me a chance to ask you, darling,” he says as he pulls away and Y/N’s face is as red as a tomato in embarrassment and he kisses both her cheeks in reassurance.

“Y/N Y/L/N, would you please be my girlfriend?” he asks, but it’s almost phrased like a statement, like she has no other choice and honestly, Y/N doesn’t mind.

When she pretends to think about it, George waggles his eyebrows and waves the four-leaf clover in her face and she pulls him into a kiss again, hoping that a ‘yes, I’ll be yours for the rest of my days’ is obvious.

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley x reader

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annabethy · 3 years

Note

Not quite a role swap but like artistic Annabeth and STEM Percy AU? Just fluff and that couple dynamic but not in the way it’s normally done I think would be immaculate

in which Percy’s good with numbers, but Annabeth teaches him the importance of art,, percabeth

Percy’s good with numbers. He sees the world from a logical point of view, and he always has. Math is something that makes sense to him — he prefers it over everything else because he finds that with numbers, there’s always an answer. He isn’t fond of the unknown. He prefers a set process that has a definitive answer. It’s the life of engineering that’s followed him into his personal life. But with Annabeth, he finds he prefers the unknown.

There’s something artistic about Annabeth, Percy can’t help but think. It’s the way she focuses on each piece she creates, entirely consumed in the beauty of it. It’s the way she bites on her tongue that just pokes through her lips with every brush stroke. It’s her paint-splattered clothes and messy ponytail that make her seem like a masterpiece, handcrafted from the heavens above.

He finds beauty in her and the things that she creates. There are no logistics in art. It’s open-ended, with infinite possibilities, and he quickly learns to appreciate the perfection of all things that have no definitive answer. He wants to venture into the unknown and see what it creates when he gives it the opportunity to.

Annabeth, just like the art she creates, is unpredictable. No amount of math or science can ever do things in the way that she does, one paint stroke at a time, and he doesn’t want it to.

From where Percy’s seated in the art studio, he can see the way sunlight pours over Annabeth’s body. They’re high up in the New York City skyline, and it’s only appropriate that the background is as breathtaking as Annabeth is in this moment.

She’s covered in paint, as usual, but it just makes him see her as a work of art. There’s a smudge of grey on her cheek from where she’d attempted to scratch an itch, though he doesn’t tell her that. Her hair glows golden, flyaways visible against the illuminated skyline.

He shifts in his seat on a table clattered with art supplies, and Annabeth shoots him a scolding look.

“Don’t move,” she warns him, but there’s a playful tone to her voice.

“It’s not my fault you refuse to put a couch in here,” he says, pointedly shifting again. “I’m going to break my tailbone against this table. And really, is it that bad of an idea to have some furniture in here? I spend almost all my time in this place.”

“You’re welcome to go to the library with all your other engineers,” she sneers, lifting a wet paintbrush at him menacingly. “Maybe you should have chosen a better major.”

“I like numbers,” he defends. “With numbers, you can be sure. With numbers, there’s always a correct answer. You just have to be smart enough to find it.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone who like calculus.”

“All I’m saying is that I like being sure.”

Annabeth lifts the corner of her lips as she resumes painting against the canvas. He cranes his neck to see what she’s working on, but it’s no use. She’s turned too far away from him to properly see anything besides a blur.

“I like art,” Annabeth says softly. “Are you sure about me?”

She says it with a calm voice. It’s a light comment, and he thinks that she’s just messing with him, but it still kills him to think she may feel he’s unsure about her when she’s the one thing he knows he needs.

He stands up from the table, clearing a spot for his computer that had been on his lap. He has to step over various canvases and piles of things he couldn’t even begin to name before he makes his way to her side. He immediately pulls her against him, lips pressing against her paint-covered cheek with a featherlight touch.

“You’re the one thing I am sure about,” he whispers into her ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear. He can practically feel the shiver that races its way up her spine, and it makes him smile. “You, Annabeth Chase, are a work of art. You make me see the world in a way I never did before. If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that you’re it for me.”

Annabeth turns her face so that she can look him in the eyes. She looks so cute from close up that he can’t help but kiss the tip of her nose.

“You’re it for me too,” she tells him. “Even if you like doing math for a living.”

Percy laughs into the crook of her neck, nuzzling the soft skin there. He breathes her in, cherishing the smell of her and a mix of paints and primers.

He stays there for a moment, hugging her by the waist with his face pressed into her neck while she begins to finish what she’s painting. He likes being with her like this, against her warm body that smells so much like his home – like the home he wants to come back to every night and wake up to every morning.

When he does lift his head, he sees her entirely devoured in finishing what she’s created. Up close, he can better see the way her eyebrows scrunch slightly, and the reflection of the canvas popping with color. Her eyelashes are curved to perfection, framing the gray irises he’s fallen in love with.

And he remembers why he fell in love with those eyes now; it was the first painting she’d gifted to him after he told her about his fondness for the ocean. He’d told her about his days spent at Montauk, watching the waves crash against the shore, feeling the sunlight burn his skin. And he remembers that she’d told him how she prefers the rainy days where thunder can be felt shaking the ground, where it pours so hard the power goes out. It wasn’t until weeks later that she showed him what she’d been working on, and it was an image of a storm along the coast of Montauk. A symbol of the two of them coming together — the storm in the sea. Annabeth had come clean and mentioned spending a few weekends at the beach he grew up along, how she had spent hours trying to get it right. The dark clouds above the sea she’d painted had matched her eyes – the violent waves crashing against the rocky shore symbolized the fierce emotion he sees every time he looks into her eyes.

It was that second that he fell in love with her, pulling her in for a kiss because it was the only way he knew how to show her just what he was feeling. It was something he couldn’t put into words. It was something that only her painting could encapsulate. It was wonderful and perfect and them and—

It was art.

“That’s beautiful,” Percy tells her now, watching as she paints before his eyes. It’s an image of the two of them, and one that he recognizes all too well. It’s the picture he knows is sitting in his wallet right this second.

The canvas is filled with whites and grays and blacks and everything in between as the two of them are standing beneath the rain on the beach, tangled in each other’s arms. Their hair is soaked, and rain is pouring around them hard, but they’re standing amidst it all, lips locked, to prolong the moment.

“Do you remember that day?” she asks. “I couldn’t possibly forget.”

“I miss it,” she says. “I know it started raining, and we couldn’t really do much, but it was just…”

It was perfect.

Percy kisses her forehead. “I know.”

He isn’t sure how long he stands there with her, watching her finish the painting in silence, but he doesn’t care. He is intrigued by the way she perfectly portrays the emotion behind it. All he can think about is how amazing it is, watching a scene unravel before his eyes.

Percy will always have a love for math. It’s what makes him comfortable. Numbers and equations do not fail so long as you know what to do. A part of him will always prefer the mathematics behind life.

The other part of him finds he needs the beautiful creation that comes with not knowing.

Annabeth is his polar opposite and his other half.

She is the art to his science. She taught him what it means to really sit back and let life create something beautiful. And he supposes it really did create something amazing. It brought her into his life, let them grow a love so strong no math can ever begin to explain it.

Percy used to think that letting go of control was the end of everything. He’s just now learning that it was truly the beginning.

#percabeth #percy jackson #pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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cabinofimagines · 3 years

Text

Lercy ABC’s

a/n ; this is the first time i’ve posted without being reminded ahahaha. anyway here’s this, give me feedback bc i’ll be at work and will most likely want to yeet myself into some adult beverages. so send positive vibes pls

pairing(s) ; leo x gn! reader x percy (poly)

requests ; holy shit this was actually requested : “Can I request lercy abcs please ? Thank you !”

wc ; 2198

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Leo is just happy to be with you at any point in the day. He finally has someone to talk to that isn’t preoccupied thinking of someone or somewhere they’d rather be. Percy is most content when his hair is being played with. He gets that dumb smile on his face like :] and likes to stare up at you while he listens to Leo’s ramblings.

Beauty - What do the admirer s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Percy personally loves staring into your eyes. He finds something new each time he looks at them in different lightings, even though you swear up and down that your eyes aren’t special. Leo likes how pretty your hands are. No he doesn’t have a fetish, but he’s just amazed at how pretty hands could be. I mean they’re hands.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Breathing exercises is something that Percy is really good at, so he’s the go to in the relationship when you’re having an attack. He can calm you down within 10 minutes or so depending on the severity. Leo makes it his personal mission to cheer you up after or when you feel down, often using Percy as a sacrifice to humor. But he likes tracing patterns on your skin, it helps both of you in the sense that you calm down faster and his heart stops clenching in worry.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

You and Leo are scheming constantly about your future, always making absurd plans about your futures together, but they’re never set in stone. Percy will join in occasionally to add his own ideas, but mostly he’s just admiring the two idiots he plans to spend the rest of his life with.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Leo tries to adapt depending on where he is and often that’s a pretty submissive/passive position. Percy naturally takes on the dominant role, but more of a passive dom presence. He doesn’t mind taking orders, but he’s not to be pushed around either. I think either of them wouldn’t be too pressed if you or the other wanted to take the lead for something.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Loyalty is Percy's fatal flaw so it’s hard to imagine him holding a grudge for longer than an hour at either of you. Leo will skirt around the subject until someone addresses it, but he’s not actually upset. He tries to avoid the problem which will rub Percy the wrong way since he likes resolving things when they happen, but usually the issue is dropped.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Leo is capable of taking care of himself… mostly. But he still greatly appreciates and enjoys when Percy and you baby him sometimes because he loves the attnetion. While he is the only one that’s really babied, each of you make sure the others are taking care of themselves too. They both notice when you do small things like making their favorite foods or gifting small things that remind you of them so they try to reciprocate that energy as well.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Percy is fairly open with everything that crosses his mind once he’s comfortable and he loves that you feel comfortable enough to tell him most– if not everything too. But he has his moments where he’s not comfortable sharing everything. Leo is the same, but he still doesn’t like to talk about specific things. If you mention it, he physically will flinch at your words and you’ll know to drop it.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

The most you have changed Percy is how often he picks up after himself. He’s not a messy person, but he does forget to put things away after he’s done with them. You’ve had a few choice words with him after the first few times, but after you nearly twisted your ankle by slipping on a sock of his, he surrendered and swore to never leave a sock on the floor again.

Leo’s fatal flaw is his inferiority. He often feels like he isn’t good enough, but with both you and Percy wrapping yourselves around him constantly, he’s learning that he is the shit. This is why he doesn’t object when you two baby/ take care of him, because he thrives off of words of affirmation and physical touch.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

They both trust you enough to not get too jealous, but if someone is being persistent, Percy won’t hesitate you wrap both you and Leo up in an embrace of some kind. Leo can get pretty jealous, but usually hides it by amping up the pda and confidence. It can be embarrassing but no matter how much you scold him for it, you always wind up laughing and kissing away his jealousy.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like? Percy has one of those “leave you wanting more” kisses. He never kisses long enough. Leo is either playful and spontaneous or a deep kisser. They do mix it up to keep things exciting, but both leave you breathless no matter how they kiss.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

(so i kinda wrote something already but i’ll explain how you and leo started dating since that’s not explained.” It started with just you and Leo dating, as you two had kissed multiple times before battles and late at night, and Leo just had to bring up the “what are we” comment. It wasn’t long after when you noticed how much he was staring at Percy Jackson. You were also staring, I mean who wouldn’t, but you teased Leo about it and he eventually admitted that he was interested in a polyamorous relationship… with Percy. (hence the fic)

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

For Percy, it was the day he met you and Leo at the ice rink. You three had gotten hot chocolate together before he had to leave, but he took a last glance into the shop window before walking away and the image had been stuck in his mind ever since. You both were squealing over the promised date he agreed to the next day. He wished he had a camera to take a picture, but he decided to commit it to memory instead.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Percy most likely will use variations of your name or even stupid names correlating to your godly parent. He’s not against using pet names, but you’re one of his best friends and it’s weird not to tease you even if you guys do kiss sometimes. Leo is a little more cheesy, but still kind of creative. He may call you an endearing nickname that correlates to your godly parent as well (ex. sunspot, flower) but he also likes using spanish pet names as well.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Percy shows it and does it know it. Although he can be romantic, he doesn’t spout that he’s in love to everyone, but it’s not like he’s hiding it either. Leo on the other hand is LOUD about it. If someone inquires about your relationship, he’s got a whole monologue prepared.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

If you don’t like PDA, you are so unfortunate in this relationship. Fortunate in the aspect that your partners are not afraid to show you off, but unfortunate that they show you off. Leo mainly does it to tease you, but also because he really likes staying close to you. Percy is very casual about it, usually wrapping an arm around one of you while holding the hand of the other.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Percy has such dad energy in this relationship. He’s pretty lame sometimes, but in the end you wouldn’t want to go without him. He can usually dissolve any petty spats you and Leo had started out of boredom, and he does with fluffy blankets and a pillow fort too.

Leo is mr. fix it. Not just when it comes to objects in the house breaking, (the poor sink has erupted one too many times thanks to Percy) but also when it comes to sickness or bad days. This boy has a solution for everything and he comes up with it in no time. Most of the time the solutions are good, very rarely do you have a bad option when it comes to Leo.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Both them are romantics. It's disgusting how sweet they can be. When those two put their minds together, they could set up a date worthy of a pinterest board.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Percy is like your right hand man, giving you advice and lending an ear to listen to your plans of success. He’s really there for you to bounce ideas off of when you need to, and also because he thinks you look stunning while talking about your ambitions. Leo, on the other hand, is your biggest cheerleader. He’ll show up to your events/work with a big smile and your favorite thing to snack on. If you feel like something went wrong, he was there to assure you that you looked hella badass.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Living as a demigod is already pretty dangerous, so I think that thrill is already met for both of them. However, if you want to travel somewhere, both would be down to go with you. As long as there is some sort of foundation of a routine there, they both wouldn’t mind leaving home.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Both are SUCH empaths. Leo can tell if you’re upset just by looking at your eyebrows and how scrunched up they are. Percy knows you’re stressing over something because he can feel the tension in your shoulders from across the room.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Leo has been searching for some type of affection most of his life and was shot down various times. He is not going to let this slip away after he found not just one, but two people who cherish him and lift him up this much.

Percy as we know is super loyal. He’s already planned out your lives together in his head and he doesn’t feel like changing that anytime soon. He will do anything to keep you two beside him until his last breath.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

It seems unfair, but if no one can decide on who gets to sleep in the middle that night, you play rock, paper, scissors. It’s unfair in the sense that you had gotten way too good at the game which would provoke whining from Leo that you needed to change the game next time.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Percy is super cuddly and so is Leo, but when Percy has his bad days, he prefers to refrain from cuddles. After awhile, Leo and you learned that cuddling with two people was okay, but always looked forward to later when Percy would squirm into your warmth, a smile on his face like :]

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Percy distracts himself with chores and training, maybe he bugs Leo into joining him just so he doesn’t completely go mad. Leo usually tries to stay in the midst of chaos, if it’s loud then he has no time to miss you. If it’s possible, they might even try to plan a surprise visit to you.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

With Percy’s flaw and Leo’s massive amount of love and obsession of not losing you both, this relationship is just full of people who are like, “I’ll die for you.” “Not if I die for you first.”

- - -

taglist ; @bandshirts-andbooks , @beneaththeiceandsnow

#lercy x reader #leo valdez x percy jackson #leo x percy x reader #percy jackson #fluff #valentines 2021 #leo vladez #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #Heroes of Olympus

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peach-the-owl · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I request a Vox machina and Mighty Nein child reader where the reader gets killed and revived? Thank you!!

Hi! Thank you so so much for the suggestion, not gonna lie it was a bit tricky to write because it’s a tough subject to nail… also I may have cried a little making this, but after looking through the tears at the results I’d say it turned out pretty good 😁

No, I will not apologize for the length… Enjoy!

Dancing with Death

Vox Machina, Mighty Nein & Child!Reader

Warnings: Death (I mean it’s in the ask and title so it should be obvious, I guess), may get a slight bit graphic

Vox Machina

Go in, investigate, kill some demons, get out. That’s what you were supposed to do, sure you knew it wasn’t going to be the easiest task but you didn’t expect to see Vecna himself make an appearance. The twisted archlich taunted the party as you all fight off the demons as best as possible while simultaneously thinking of a way to escape. Too focused on not getting hit you didn’t see the devious look that crossed his features when his sights set on you. You fight off enemies as best as your abilities would let you until you find yourself face to face with Vecna, a icy chill running through you as he stared you down. That icy chill becomes more literal when he grabs you by the neck and lifts you into the air, you gasp in shock as you dangle helplessly, still struggling to free yourself, his grip only getting tighter, slowly cutting off your air intake. Everything was going hazing from your lack of oxygen, you felt the cold touch of his hand around your neck, the pain increasing from said cold, you heard what sounded like distant screams or maybe cries of your name, you weren’t entirely sure, there was a sudden pop in your neck alongside a brief second of sharp pain then… nothing.

You find yourself sitting somewhere dark, legs brought up to your chest as you hug them closer to you. Looking around this darkness stretched on and on, with no end in sight. Where were you? What just happened? You felt very confused until you saw the only other figure with you in this dark void. A tall, slender feminine figure stands before you, a dark cloak flowing down her shoulders and a simple porcelain mask covering her face, a hauntingly beautiful sight to say the least. You tilt your head to the side as you stare up at her, trying to wrap your head around what was going on and why she seemed familiar. To your surprise she copies you and tilts her own head to the side, although hers was more subtle, you then tilt your head to the other side and again she copies you, earning a small giggle out of you.

"Wow, you’re really pretty." You, finally finding words, say without much thought, you mind still not fully grasping the situation at hand. She lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment and gives a small bow to you before straightening herself upright again. At this point it’s starting to click why she was familiar, your eyes widening in realization at just who you were talking to. "Wait… you’re the Raven Queen. Does-does that mean I’m dead?" You stare up at her for some sort of confirmation, but the porcelain mask she wore didn’t really help give you any clues.

"Life can be so short and unfair, never caring if they be young, old, good or evil when facing the reality that is death." You blink at her words, it felt like there was some meaning to them but you couldn’t place your finger on what.

"Is-is that a yes?" You ask hoping for a more straightforward answer. She lets out another hum and reaches down to pick you up in a fluid motion, shifting to help smooth back some of your hair the second you were secure in her arms. Her touch was cold yet oddly calming to you as she begins to glide her way across the empty landscape that surrounded you both, you wonder if she was taking you to the afterlife, then she stops. You look at her confused but something else quickly captures your attention, a bright light cutting through the darkness. You couldn’t make direct eye contact but you tried your best to, hearing faint voices emitting through it, you couldn’t make out any words but the voices sounded desperate, pleading. You look up at the Raven Queen and, even through the mask, you could feel her own gaze set on you. You stare at her with curious eyes and once again tilt your head to the side in an almost silent question, as before she copies your action and traces the side of your face, tucking back any loose hair you may have had.

"Sweet little bird," she starts making you perk up, that was what Vax and Keyleth would call you as a nickname. "It is not your time quite yet, you have much more to accomplish in this life and foes whose souls shall be brought to me by your hand." You couldn’t tell if she was trying to be uplifting or something, but you did find some encouragement in her words. She leans closer to you and the cool feeling of her mask presses against your forehead as if in a gentle kiss before your vision turns white…

You open your eyes staring up at the ceiling of your room in Greyskull Keep, you just sit there staring into space for a while until you adjust yourself to sit up. Strangely enough you feel something wrapped in one of your hands, slowly opening it to find a single ravens feather resting in your palm, you examine it a moment before breaking into a cough, a strange sensation in your neck like there was a hand still around it. The sound of your door opening makes you look over to see Pike enter the room and hurry over to you, she helps steady you to your feet, giving a little extra healing to make the feeling in your neck go away and hugs you tightly, you happily return the hug, stashing the feather into your pocket. The two of you make your way around the keep to the dining room where the others were waiting, the instant they all see you you're swept up into hugs and apologies from all of them.

"(Y/n)! You’re awake!" "How are you feeling?" "I’m so sorry we couldn’t get to you in time." "We were so scared, we thought we might not be able to save you." These alongside many other comments were sent your way as you just happily snuggle into each one of their individual embraces. Keyleth and Vex both clung to you tightly doing very little to hold back their tears of joy. Grog easily scooped you up into his arms, being careful not to crush you and just happy to see that you were back on your feet, even if he protested to being worried. Percy and Scanlan both played it neutral, giving you pats on the shoulder or back, Scanlan making a comment that he knew everything would be alright because Pike was amazing at her job, but you could see the relief in their eyes for your well being. Then there was Vax, like the others he was very much happy and relieved that you were alright, wrapping you up in a tight embrace but there was also this faint look of knowing in his eyes when he stared at you. You offer all of them a bright smile before looking back up at the rouge, pulling out the feather to show him. He looks at it a moment, his expression softening a little more as gently weaves it into your hair. You’re about to say something when Percy speaks up, suggesting everyone goes out for the evening to finally unwind and celebrate your recovery. Quick and happy to agree you all head out to Emon, because there was only one thing on your mind now… you were absolutely famished.

Mighty Nein

Being in a group of adventurers was a risky bet to take, one you took with a smile. It would be fun they said, you’ll get to see new places they said, nothing could possibly go wrong you thought. For the most part it was true, but facing off against a coven of sea hags wasn’t proving to be the most fun to you. Well in fashion for the Nein, it would seem, things only got worse before they’d get better, one of the hags activating an orb-like object summoning a water elemental to the battle. The water elemental lunges at you, sweeping you up in its torrent to keep you from escaping, you only had enough time to take in a quick gasp of air before you’re trapped in the creature. You try to flail your arms to break free of the creatures hold to no avail, it’s not long before you start to have a hard time holding your breath. In a desperate last attempt you try reaching out to grab hold of anything nearby that you could use to pull yourself free, it was a futile attempt, your arms not even breaking past the creatures watery body. Your lungs begged for air and without meaning to you release your breath and take in a water, it burned your throat and lungs when you tried to cough it out only taking more in. Everything around you started to fade away, it was like the elemental itself didn’t exist either, only you and this moment, you couldn't escape and you didn’t know where everyone else was. It was lonely and you were terrified… then the pain disappeared, your vision was still dark but it didn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

You weren’t too sure what was going on, you couldn’t move or at very least you chose not to move and looked every which direction to see if there was anything or anyone else with you. Finding nothing you shakily rise to your feet and slowly move forward in this dark abyss.

"Hello! Is anyone there? Caduceus? Jester? Anyone?" You call out into the darkness hoping for an answer… no response. You keep calling for anyone from the Nein in hopes that someone would answer you, though it felt as though your voice was just swallowed up and reaching nowhere. "Is anyone there?" You repeat feebly. "Please, I don’t wanna be alone." You sniffle and tremble a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. A soft light breaks the darkness around you and a feminine figure appears before you. Her hair long and wild, cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall well complimented by the vines and flowers growing among it, a warm motherly smile upon her face.

A comforting breeze, feeling like that of a warm hug, blows around you and words, unspoken aloud but still heard form in your mind. "My sweet child, do not fear, you have never been alone." The words were soft and gentle, easing away your fear and bringing a sense of comfort to you as you stare up at the woman. She gently lifts you into her arms, moving so fluidly you almost don’t realize it until you’re face to face with the deity. Curiously you reach a hand out and touch the various flowers in her hair, a small giggle coming from you at the feeling.

"Your hair's really soft and the flowers a very pretty." You compliment, she hums in response, taking one of the flowers out of her hair and tucking it behind your ear. You carefully place a hand on the flower and smile at her, all the fear you held earlier finally disappearing.

"It is not quite yet your time to rejoin the earth," once again you don’t quite see her lips move but hear a voice carried in the soft breeze she emits. "Your family still needs you, my child. Go. Learn. Grow." Her words brought comfort but you had no idea what she was saying, honestly you still weren’t quite sure what had happened or who she was. She parts her lips and blows air into you, your vision turning white for a moment before you find yourself coughing up some water, feeling some pain in your chest as a result.

"Easy, easy. It’s alright, you’re gonna be okay." You rub your eyes before peeking them open to see Caduceus staring down at you with a relived smile. That’s when it clicked into your head what happened, but before you can make a comment another voice jumps in.

"Oh my gosh, (y/n)! We were so scared when we saw you in that nasty water guy." Jester effortlessly scoops you up into her arms and twirls around, a few tears having fallen at her relief.

"I wouldn’t say I was scared, just… worried." Beau comments, though her voice wavered slightly. Jester places you down and you’re immediately tackled into another hug by Nott. No comment from her, just being held in a tight embrace only a mother could give. When she finally lets go Fjord kneels down to your height and gently rubs your back, having been in a similar experience before he knows how you felt and almost looked guilty for it. You place a hand on his cheek and offer him a closed eye smile, he returns the smile before standing up again. Yasha now kneeling down and taking her turn to wrap you in her arms. You could feel the slight tremble in her body as she held you close, whispering something so quiet you wondered if she was even speaking at all.

Something soft butting at your leg pulled you from your thoughts, looking down at Frumpkin the cat gently butts it’s head against your leg again before rubbing his body against it with a soft purr. You pick up the cat, cuddling him a bit before looking around for his owner, spotting Caleb leaning against the wall his hands covering his face as he draws in deep breaths. You walk over to him and tug at his coat until he looks at you, you then hold up Frumpkin for him. He bends down and takes the cat from you, letting the fey rest on his shoulders then reaches over and gives you a pat on the head. It wasn’t much but you gave him A for effort.

"Alright, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m done standing around in here." Beau speaks up again, making you realize you were still in the creepy sea cave where the coven once resided.

"I second that!" You say, it coming out more hoarse then you’d like. A few more voices of agreement later and your all making your way back out of the cave and towards your ship.

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 years

Text

Jason was someone who knew the value and the importance of a good night sleep. And life on the Argo ll showed him that the others were lacking in that department.

And without quite fully realising it, he studied them and found solutions that maybe they hadn't even realised.

(Or, Jason is distressed team mum and wants to help everyone get some sleep)

He'd find Percy drifting off while sat on the sofa and would inquire that the other slept. Percy would give him a fond and amused grin "yeah, I will." But Jason can see the bags under his eyes and the way he's slower to react (not by much of course, it was Percy after all impulse was kinda his thing) and resists the urge to shake his head.

Instead Jason goes over to the window, and feels his power fill the air. A cool gust of wind and the trickling of rain start to appear, followed by the cool lapping waves of the sea (because of the wind) and Percy listens to them absentmindedly but only takes a few minutes for him to nod off on the sofa, lulled by the sounds around him. Jason had heard him fondly talk of Montauk, of a rainy cabin by the sea and Jason knew at once what to do.

A light swirl of wind picks up the blankets from his room and tuck him in, a pillow pet wedged in his arms.

Jason finds Leo tinkering in the engine room with Annabeth by his side. They've thrown themselves into another invention and happily explain it to him. And while most of its intricacies go over his head, he praises them regardless (and tries not to frown at how surprised they are, especially Leo to receive genuine praise. That he files away for later.)

His points of going to sleep fall on death ears of course, but he's caught them before they've started to consume any caffiene. Jason takes a deep breathe and mumbles some words in a language he's never truly used before. But Leo does, freezing in place and staring at Jason in open mouth surprise.

It's a song Reyna sings, has sung to Jason more times than he can count. On cloudless night skies full of stars, when all they have is each other to hold on to. Jason doesn't completely known the language but Reyna uses it when there alone, he wants to know because he knows just how important it is to her.

Tears well up in Leo's eyes, his body sags and his eyes flutter sleepily like Jason had hoped. It reminds Leo of his Madre, and warmth wells up in his heart. To seal the deal, Jason hands over a blanket with all the importance of a treaty and mimes for Leo to put it around him.

Leo raises an eyebrow, still reeling from the song and does so. He gasps in surprise, for this is a weighted blanket that seems to by magic dull the anxiety that wells up in his friend. (Jason is certain that weighted blankets are just magic). He gives Jason a grin but for once it reaches his eyes, eyes that shine witb gratitude "okay okay, I'm going to sleep Jase if you're gonna go through all this trouble."

Annabeth looks like she's about to protest for all of 3 seconds before shaking her head and bade Leo goodnight. She gives Jason a calculating look "I'm assuming you're doing this with everyone." Jason nods, open and honest because he has nothing to hide and knows how much that means to her. Annabeth stares at him for a few seconds, before nodding, accepting it.

"We have been... Running ourselves ragged I suppose...." To Jason that's an understatement, she can read them all but he can read her 2. He can see just how much she's struggling to keep herself together. Otherwise she'd probably have put up more of a fight to his plans. "So, care to tell me what you thought of for me?"

Jason smiles, taking out a book and pressing it into he'd hands, she raises an eyebrow and makes what's halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "You want me... To read till I sleep?" She asks, Jason nods absolutely serious. Annabeth isn't sure how to react that but finds no harm in it and does so. She's about 5 pages in when her head falls onto the pillow beneath her and softly snores.

Annabeth had been that exhausted that few things wouldn't have made her fall asleep. That is if she were anyone else, but she was Annabeth. She was someone who's guard was raised at all times, so he made his intentions clear and handed her a book to help her sleep. It wasn't that the book was magic or anything it was even what it contained though that was important.

It was on keystone arch way design, an architectural style that had been pioneered by Romans. This particular book was one of Jason's favourites, and by giving her a book important to him, about something he cared about he was able to gain her trust. Jason had relaxed Annabeth enough that her guard dropped momentarily so that her tired body was able to win out.

Jason had no doubt she would read the book the next day and bookmarked it for her, using the wind to gently send her to her room.

He found Frank polishing his bow and talking to Hazel. Jason strode over to them and told them that it was late and they should rest. That they had a big day ahead of them and he wouldn't want them to get hurt through their exhaustion.

And while the words were casual enough, they bore with them a certain edge. Not harshness or even cruelty but a certain form of confidence that spoke of authority. Now Jason didn't have authority, not here but he used to. Frank and Hazel has known him for a while personally but not as long as he'd been their Praetor and Jason knew instantly that they'd recognise his tone.

But he didn't leave it there, otherwise he'd have felt cruel and cold, and besides it wasn't the whole plan. Jason smiled warmly, and began to tell a story. Like so many he'd shared at a campfire after long days at Camp Jupiter. Hazel curled up beside Frank who stifled a yawn, the almost Prateor voice had got their attention yes.

But the story pulled them in, just like it always had. It was one they'd heard a thousand times of a mission a former Prateor had been on but Jason weaved words like magic and before he was finished they were out like lights.

He smiled fondly, just like than and wrapped a blanket around them and left once they were comfortable.

Piper was sat by one of the windows, staring into her blade in deep thought. Jason clears his throat to make his presence known and she jumps slightly, waving at him once she regains her composure. "Oh, hi Jason. What's up?" She tries and fails to hide her true feelings. Piper's afraid, and Jason knows it. He asks her if she can fall asleep and she shakes her head silently. Jason nods, expecting as much and sits beside her.

Instantly she rests her head on his shoulder, it takes a few seconds but she voices her worries. Her anxiety and fear about their mission, and he holds her close. Jason let's get it all out, even prompting her at times before consoling and comforting her. He addresses every one of her fears with a realistic but kind response, it reminds him of new campers still learning the ropes and asking a billion questions all at once.

He comforted them, answered their questions and made sure they knew he was always their to support them. Jason comforts Piper the same way, bringing up that she has improved, how far they've gotten and holding her close.

And it helps her relax, much like it did to them in the past and once she does she starts to yawn. He gives her a pointed look and she laughs tiredly "fine I'll get some rest, only if you do as well." Jason nods, watching her go back he'd to her room.

Of course he will, he fully intends to keep that promise like all the rest. The rain is more natural now, perhaps he'd initially caused it but oh well. Jason thinks of the seven, or rather the six and how they've worked their way into his heart. He thinks of Reyna and knows she'd have been amused of his efforts as she always is.

And now Jason finds himself able to sleep, now that he knows everyone else is well and truly resting. And that's what he feels as he drifts off to sleep curled up in a nest of blankets like the wolf he is.

When Nico joins them, and everyone notices him having trouble sleeping there is little surprise among the six when Jason quietly approaches him.

It's a lot less surprising when they see Nico drinking hot chocolate at night and discussing Mythomagic strategies with Jason, as his eyes begin to flutter, that remind him of so much of late night conversations with Reyna on days that have been so hard on them both.

Because every now and again Nico will drop in something serious in their friendly banter and Jason will not belittle, nor ignore nor make light of it or coddle him but listen and ensure he feels listened to. Because that he finds is what Nico needs... And if he manages to hug him at some point and get him to sleep that's a definite plus.

(Really wanted to hammer it home that Jason makes others feel comfortable by addressing who they are as people and uses himself to help.

With Percy he uses his powers to remind him of his safe place when he's in distress.

With Annabeth he uses his passion and being a literal open book because he knows she values and needs trust and safety.

With Leo and Nico it was his friendship with Reyna, of how they've both helped each other when there hurting and applied what he's learnt here.

With Frank and Hazel and Piper it was his role as Prateor, the knowledge of how to help tjise who are openly hurting and want that support and telling stories because that's what helped campers like Frank and Hazel are to feel better.

Because helping others is such a core part of who Jason is)

#jason grace #percy jackson #The seven #reyna avila ramirez arellano #nico di angelo #piper mclean #leo valdez #Frank zhang #Hazel levesque #annabeth chase #Mama Jason Grace #jason grace protection squad #jason grace appreciation squad

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themadhatterofficial · 3 years

Text

Eyes, Bodies, and Potions

The Golden Trio was always meant to take down Voldemort.

Perhaps, if things happened a bit differently, if the pieces managed to link together in another way...

(Dark Golden Trio AU)

********************

Harry Potter only knew violence growing up.

The young boy hidden away in the cupboard under the stairs would sit in fear and anticipation as heavy footsteps pounded above and rattled the dust onto his tiny bed. He had a single mirror in his cupboard that Aunt Petunia had given him as a Christmas present after his uncle had slammed his head into it hard enough to cause cracks to run through it like an overzealous spiderweb.

No matter how many times he tried to avoid it, Harry always ended up watching himself in the dingy glass. In anything remotely reflective, really.

Everywhere Harry went, people commented on his eyes. On how pretty they were, how they made him look respectable, how much they stood out against the darkness of his skin and the heavy bangs that resembled a rat's nest at the best of times.

It had jump started Harry's obsession.

Everywhere he went, Harry would stare at eyes. Brown ones, blue ones, grey ones, green ones, and every mix you could think of. He liked the emotions that ran through them, how they told stories that faces and bodies would never reveal.

He could see the happiness when a couple held hands.

He could see the fear when a man gripped his girlfriend's arm a little too tight.

He could see the joy in a father's eyes when his baby snuggled further into his neck.

The fear was nice sometimes. When it was someone who deserved it. Like when Dudley's friend Henry punched Harry hard enough to take out his baby tooth and split his lip. Harry had launched forward and kept hitting and hitting and hitting until Henry was crying too hard to make noise and he was covered in reds and blues that never blossomed on Harry's deep skin.

(Henry's eyes were grey. They were scared. It was nice.)

(Henry's parents also moved their whole family far away from the neighborhood the very next week. Harry chalked it up to coincidence.)

Harry liked the happiness a lot more than the sad or scared ones. He liked sitting in the little park far from the Dursleys' and letting the long cuffs of his torn hand-me-downs scrape below the swing, watching the happy families laugh and jump and run around with one another without caring about anything else.

For as long as Harry could remember, he had wanted that. He longed for it. He would sit in his tiny cupboard on the last night of July and beg and plead whoever was up there for someone to find him. At first, Harry wished for someone to take him away. Now, Harry would be content with someone approaching him to just talk. It was a far-fetched dream, something he only dared to dream of in the quiet darkness when he pretended that his parents weren't worthless drunks who cared for the bottle more than their son. That he had a mother that took the time to tame his bird's nest of a head and read to him at night, that he had a father who taught him how to play chess and cook breakfast for his mum in bed, and maybe even an uncle that bought him secret ice creams that ruined his dinner and taught him how to talk to pretty girls at school and maybe even a sister who laughed too loud and grinned too wide and let him wrap her up in soft blankets when she was too cold to ask for it.

But for now, Harry would settle for their eyes.

********************

Ron Weasley, in Ron Weasley's opinion, was not very special.

He was the sixth child of seven in his impoverished family. He got hand-me-down everything, and was expected to do as well as his brothers, if not better. It was nothing special if he could do this, because Percy could too, and if he could do that, well, Bill already had years before.

Sometimes Ron wished he was an only child, if only for the attention he would have.

(He never wanted his siblings dead, Merlin no. He loved them all and wished them the best, even if he was a bit jealous of them.)

Perhaps this was why he was often seen hanging on Harry or Hermione's arm, spending every bit of his free time with the first things that were his, and only his.

They weren't things, and Ron knew this. He knew that they were people, and he knew that they were their own people. He never claimed them aloud, and especially didn't hint at it to Harry. He was already treated like a Thing by his muggles. They locked him away and took him out when he was of use. Ron wanted to be with him all the time, even when he didn't listen and remained as stubborn as an ass.

But they were still Ron's. He didn't like when Fred or George or Ginny would try to covet Harry's attention, or tease Hermione until all the blood rushed up to darken her cheeks to a deep blue. She would hide behind her massive hair that curled around her wildly in a way that she wasn't.

Later, Hermione would shyly admit that she'd never felt wanted, and that she quite liked the way Harry and Ron so openly expressed their need for her. Harry would say the same.

Ron Weasley liked watching people.

He saw everything he needed to from a distance, even if he wanted to get closer. He liked watching quidditch especially, how their bodies moved so gracefully and held no hesitation in their gestures. (This did not extend to his brothers and sister. He actually didn't like watching them in particular, even if he could never pry his eyes away from Harry twisting and turning and reaching as far as he could.)

Every quidditch match was exciting. Ron would emulate certain things, ever since he could remember. Bill's easy-going swagger. Charlie's big hand movements. Percy's chin tilt he did when he was trying to make a point, or the seamless weaving and bobbing Fred and George had mastered together. He'd mostly out grown it before Ginny came along, but sometimes he even ran his hand through his hair like she did. His dad did it, and it was a small thing the three of them shared, and Ron coveted it.

The most ingrained thing about Ron was probably his tactile nature. His mum was the same way. They were probably the most expressive, always ready to give out a hug and kiss on the cheek or just to hold someone.

This came in handy later in life.

Hermione likes to stand on her toes.

It's a small thing that he's sure she isn't really aware of. She'd mentioned offhandedly that her parents had forced her to do ballet when Ron mentioned it, and it became more and more clear. When she stretched she pointed her toes perfectly, and when she turned to speak she'd often spin around on the tips of her feet. It was endearing, especially even when she went on her long winded tangents about anything and everything.

When she talked, her smile lit up the room and her hands flitted about excitedly. When she saw something that caught her eye, Hermione would stretch out her neck and raise her eyebrows high into her uneven bangs.

Hermione was also very awkward. She hid behind her big kinky curls, which Ron soon learned were in that weird frizzy stage because of repeated failed attempts at straightening it. (He quite liked her hair just the way it was, but Hermione didn't, which was disappointing.) Ron would shake his head and teasingly pull on one of her coils so it bounced tightly. She would flush, and when they first met she absolutely despised it. It wasn't until they'd known each other for so long that she would allow him to do so. He was the only one other than Harry that was allowed. Soon after she began to grow comfortable with his casual touches.

So when she would awkwardly put her hand forward to shake Ron's, he would push it away in order to wrap her up tightly in his arms. She'd tense at first before hugging back tentatively, then tightly, as if she never wanted him to let her go.

Harry tugs at his sleeves when he gets nervous.

He does it a lot, actually. When they ride up, he pulls the cuffs down to grip in his palms.

When adults speak to him, he squeezes himself inward to make himself smaller. When they raise their voices, his head drops down ever so slightly, as if it's an instinct he's trying to fight. When they get too close, his body twitches away as if it has a mind of its own.

Ron soon noticed that Harry couldn't handle yelling. Ron and Hermione began to fight about Merlin-knows-what one night by the lake. It wasn't until Ron's voice was slightly hoarse and he paused to take a breath that he remembered that Harry was still there. He was sitting on the damp grass, completely still with his hands muffling his ears and his head tucked between his knees.

Ron always warns Harry before reaching to him. Always asks if its okay. It's soon obvious to Ron that no one has truly hugged Harry, and does so whenever he has the chance. And Harry absolutely clings onto Ron, which is really nice. No one's really done that. His siblings weren't always the touchy-type and his parents were always too busy with this or that to dedicate so much time to the Least Favorite.

(Ron knew that they loved him. He never doubted that. But he was nothing if not a realist.)

But Ron's favorite thing was when Harry would jump on him. Harry never talked much unless one prompted him endlessly, and it was even rarer for him to initiate a conversation or reach out for anyone or anything. So when Harry would get so excited he tackle-hugged Ron into the grass or the floor of the common room, and Hermione would burst into giggles beside them, he'd feel his heart burst open for these two people that truly appreciated him.

Watching people fall was pretty fascinating.

Their bodies would turn and prepare for the inevitable, bracing in fear before the impact came.

They showed something real, in those moments. The shock, the resignation, pure, unadulterated fear that overtook their entire bodies dominated Ron's attention when it happened. And when the fear happened, he saw who they were. How one handles the fear, the harsh reality ready to break their nose it, shows who they truly are.

When Hermione fell into the Devil's Snare, and Ron and Harry were stuck in the stage of fear, he could see Hermione's brain turn over. He saw the way she went straight from the fear to the calm determination of someone who was not ready for the end. He could see the clear fuck you on her face before she sunk below the vines.

When Harry's broom began to shake and throw him off in a violent rage, Ron saw the fear. He saw the clear fear outline every bone of his body before his grip tightened and his body swung upwards. He could see the resignation, and he could see the acceptance of what would happen. But that wasn't standing out as much as the look that overtook his entire face. He could hear it from the stands, the way he was telling himself - not without a fight.

Ron quite liked the fear. He liked seeing them panic and squirm. He liked knowing who they were, if only for a moment.

When he punched Goyle in the face, he saw it. When he beat him over and over in the empty corridor, Ron knew. He didn't have that fight in him, the way his best friends do. He was pitiful, really. Ron felt no sympathy afterwards, merely watched as the larger boy scrambled away bloody and terrified.

And later, when Ron let Harry bandage his knuckles in a way that no eleven year old should be able to do with such ease, he watched the blood swirl down the drain with morbid fascination.

His knuckles were swollen and bruised, and Harry was endlessly careful with them.

Goyle had gotten a good punch in, and Hermione's hand flitted around his cheek worriedly for a good two minutes before calming down.

And the next day, when Goyle's bruises were yellow with some kind of accelerated healing potion, Ron was quite disappointed that the colors had left so quickly. He felt put-out, robbed even, of the satisfaction he'd wanted. That he'd earned.

But when their eyes met, and Goyle flinched to look down with shameful fear, Ron decided that he could settle for that.

********************

Hermione Granger had always been a smart girl. It was something she had always prided herself in. Top of her class, always on time, always perfect.

Her parents had made sure of that. The Grangers would not permit their only child to fail. They refused to have a fuck up for a daughter. It would disgrace them beyond belief, leaving the family humiliated and shame-faced for all of the world to see.

Hermione Granger was used to the low expectations. She had long since grown accustomed to people looking down on her. From her buck teeth, to dark skin, to her frizzy hair, not many expected much from her.

They were proper people, the Grangers. Practical and no-nonsense types that expected their child to achieve a level of success that they were never able to reach.

So it was quite a shock when one day a severe-looking woman appeared on their doorstep in a tall pointy hat and bright green bathrobe that smelled faintly of cat treats.

Hermione had had an inkling about the magic. Strange occurrences, things that logic simply could not explain.

"It snowed once," she had murmured under her breath.

The three adults stopped their snapping, which had been quickly escalating into a fully-blown argument, to look towards the girl.

"What was that?" the professor had sniped quickly.

Hermione looked towards her parents, their lips pressed together tensely as they stared down their daughter through narrowed eyes.

"It snowed," Hermione'd said a bit more clearly. "When... when I read Narnia." She barely kept from flinching when her mother's fist clenched at the mention of one of those horrid fairy tales, but Hermione looked down and twisted her lips from side to side.

"Why is that?" the woman had asked a touch less harshly.

"In the story the kids went through a wardrobe and found a place where it snowed all year round. I just wanted to visit somewhere... somewhere different. Like..."

When Hermione made no effort to finish the professor made the effort to kneel before her to match their heights.

And slowly, the professor's lips began to pull up ever so slightly into an encouraging (and slightly conspiratorial) smile. "Somewhere magical?"

"Yes," Hermione had breathed out emphatically, nodding her head so vigorously that the beads in her weighty braids clanked together loudly enough to echo around the silent room.

"Well, I think that I may be able to make that happen."

To be entirely truthful, Hermione didn't much like school.

She loved learning. She had always loved learning. It was her favorite thing in the whole world. But the pressure, both from the school and her family, made Hermione want to tear her hair out until there was nothing left. Her parents were terrible about it. They monitored her grades as closely as humanly possible. And it was't enough to just do good, or great, or perfect. She had to be better than everyone in anything and everything she did.

Hermione had done ballet when she was little. It wan't her favorite thing in the world, but it had been fun.

But she wasn't The Best.

So her parents made her quit.

Harry and Ron were different than most.

They were her friends. Her real friends. Most people sneered at her in class when her hand always shot up and she jumped at the chance to answer every question she could and fight to be the first one to demonstrate how much better she was than them. (There had been a period of time where Hermione had stopped doing so. Her parents found out. She began raising her hand again.)

Her boys sometimes did that. When Hermione got overexcited and cut off the teacher Harry would sometimes hide his face with his hand or Ron would groan and roll his eyes. But the second someone else said something to her, they would jump at the chance to defend her and take no prisoners.

The three of them were family. A real family. Not like at home where dinner was tense and silent while Hermione's father picked apart every single sentence of her school progress reports, or when Harry would talk about his relatives in quivering whispers before quickly changing the subject before they could ask about his over-sized clothing and the gruesome pattern of raised skin on his arms.

Hermione laughed more with them in her first year at Hogwarts than she ever had in her entire existence. While Harry had a strange kind of gasping laugh that she could hardly distinguish between joy or pain, Ron's was full-bodied and bright. But they were both amazing. They sounded happy. Safe. Kind of like home.

She had never been so happy in her life.

Hermione loved magic.

It had a strange set of rules to it. Strange. Different. But soon enough, Hermione understood it.

Her favorite was potions. There was a definitive way to it, logic that was always followed. Hermione could follow a method and it would be perfect. Action and reaction. That was all it was. Action and reaction. Action and reaction.

(Snape was obviously terrible. He made her face burn and tears spring to her eyes. But she couldn't stop raising her hand or jumping in to answer questions. She just couldn't. If it got back to her parents it would be a thousand times worse than anything Snape could ever do to her.)

But outside of the classroom, Hermione fell in love with the method of potion-making. It was soothing and gentle and welcoming and just so perfect for her. Outside of the dankness of the dungeons and the harsh bearing of Severus Snape's beady black eyes, Hermione Granger sat in the sunlight of the second floor girls' lavatory and created masterpieces. She used her tools to create art. From potions of brilliant greens to velvety purples to bright blues so clear that she could see the bottom of the cauldron through. It was stunningly beautiful. And it took her breath away.

But she wasn't The Best.

(not yet, at least)

It was early on a Saturday morning.

The sun streamed through the tall window of the second floor girls' lavatory and landed on Hermione and her cauldron at the perfect angle. It was a potion recipe that Harry had found in the restricted section and given to her. (Normally, Hermione would never condone breaking rules. At school, no less. But this was a Special Circumstance.) It caused the consumer's heart to beat so fast that the blood couldn't make it through the arteries quickly enough, causing them them to clog and trigger a heart attack.

Hermione hadn't planned on actually giving it to anyone. It would be disgustingly terrible. To cause someone's death...

But then, the colors were so pretty. Swirling pinks and purples moving like waves crashing upon the sand, splashing against the sides of the cauldron of their own accord. Her eyes traced their movements, transfixed into a deep state of pure calm.

She didn't even notice when some of it had splashed up over the lip of the cauldron. It landed on the tiles with a decisive plink that echoed in the silence.

Hermione hadn't seen the rat until it was too late. She watched in horror as the small rodent moved towards the spilled potion, sniffing at it before licking hesitantly.

Before she could yell for it to stop, the rat began to convulse on the dirty floor. Hermione could do nothing but watch as the poor thing's body shook violently, squealing pathetically and rolling around in excruciating pain.

And then the blood.

There was so much in its tiny body. It was actually quite shocking. Spilling from everywhere from its eyes to its mouth to its ears. It was a horror scene - party of one.

Hermione wanted it to stop. She wanted to save the little rat. It was cruel and unkind and unfair and...

Disgustingly beautiful.

The vividness of its blood threw her off. It was smooth and thick, running through the grooves of the tiles in gentle rivulets akin to that of the rivers that carved through the Forest of Dean.

It was very different to see this kind of pain tearing its course through something. It felt almost satisfying to watch. Like she was seeing her own pain manifest itself within a tiny conductor, forcing everything inside of her inside of it.

And it was Hermione that was doing it. Hermione's potion. Her own knowledge and power transferring into another living breathing thing, wreaking its havoc as it went.

Action and reaction.

Sometimes Hermione would watch others in school with the same lens that she had watched that rat. She would bore holes through the side of Pansy Parkinson's head or clench her hands to avoid tilting the entirety of her scalding potion down the back of Professor Snape's robes during class.

(She would fantasize about it. Sometimes Hermione felt like a monster for doing so, but then she would look at Ron when he dug his fingertips into the desk and glare at Draco Malfoy with a barely concealed type of rage that she Knew meant that they were the same.)

(Harry was a little different. He didn't always have that kind of rage inside of him. But he would watch when Ron would fight others, untamed and wild in every aspect. And it would glimmer behind the vibrant green of his irises that Hermione had yet to recreate with one of her potions.)

Hermione wanted to do it. She wanted to drip just the littlest bit of her art onto their wrists. Just a drop. She wanted to watch their skin shrivel and burn, eaten away by the nature of her poison. She wanted to hear them scream. She wanted them to feel what she feels, if only for a bit. She wanted to paint with their blood, tracing sigils of old into her skin and practicing the kind of magic that would have her mother fainting on the front lawn and her father puking into the ugly orange tulips tracing the stark white walls of her pretty little muggle home.

But for now, she'd have to settle for the rats haunting the bathroom floor.

#Harry Potter #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #black hermione granger #INDIAN HARRY POTTER #dark au #dark golden trio #golden trio #not v happy #and ive brought you mur #thank you #mur-dur!#JUDAS

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in-slytherin-we-trust · 4 years

Note

oah you write for blaise ! that's so cool ! maybe something about him dating a girl who's a part of the wesley family and a slytherin (not blood related, maybe adopted or taken in) and blaise falls for her and in the beginning he doesn't want to be public about his feelings because of the reputation but he realized that.he doesn't care and even draco likes them together

Public Announcement (Blaise Zabini x Reader)

Y/N may not be a Weasley by blood but she certainly is a Weasley by heart. Heck she could even pass as Arthur and Molly’s biological daughter because she naturally has a flaming red hair, the very trademark of a Weasley.

She was barely 2 years old when Arthur met her in the orphanage. Both her parents had passed away from Black Cat Flu when she was still an infant. A tragic story really for such a sweet little girl. Arthur took a pity on her and decided to came for another visit a week later, this time he brought Molly with him. They then decided to adopt her and ever since then she is known as Y/N Weasley.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy adore her to bits. They never set her apart just because she was adopted. To them she’s a Weasley all the same. Fred and George put her on a pedestal, she’s the only person that never has to suffer their pranks, the twins are highly protective over her. Ron is the same age as her and they share a love for food and sweets. Ginny looks up to her more than she does to Ron (for obvious reason) and since they’re the only girls in the family, they’re always attached at the hip.

By the time she reached the age of 12 and got her Hogwarts letter, Molly was constantly bawling and feeling sentimental because she’s not ready to let Y/N out of her sight yet. Especially when she realized that next year will be Ginny’s turn to leave for school. The Burrow won’t feel the same with all her troublemakers gone from the nest.

After Y/N was sorted into Slytherin while the rest of her siblings are all in Gryffindor, she ran out of the Great Hall, ashamed of herself for getting put into a house with problematic reputation. She’s not even sure that the rest of the Slytherins will welcome her with open arms since she’s a Weasley, to them she is probably a blood traitor and a disgrace to their house.

Ron, Fred, and George went to look for her after the feast when they realized that she’s nowhere to be found. Fearing something might have happened. Even the twins aren’t in their usual playful mood because of the sticky situation that they all found themselves in. Who will take care of her now when she’s literally inside the serpents den?

They found her in Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom, crouching under one of the sinks with her head tuck between her arms and knees pulled to her chest. A few quiet sobs rocked her body.

“Hi there, sunshine” Fred said softly as the three of them crouched down to her level. George placing a hand in her head, rubbing it softly.

“What am I supposed to do now? I thought I’d be a Gryffindor just like you all are” Y/N muttered. Even her voice came out raspy and weak.

“You’ll be okay, Y/N. We won’t abandon you or anything just because you’re in Slytherin” Ron said, giving his best attempt at comforting his sister. He bumped his shoulder to hers, it’s Ron’s way of showing brotherly affection.

“Yeah plus we could always sneak you in to the common room anytime you want” George said while wiggling his eyebrows.

The three of them smiled in relief when the girl finally let out a short laugh after George’s remark. “Thanks for making me feel better” Y/N replied, pulling her brothers into one big group hug.

“We got you, sunshine” Fred said and George added a, “Please tell us immediately if we need to beat up someone for you”

Y/N grinned, “Thanks for the assistance, I’ll keep that in mind”

———————————————————————

By the time she has reached her 4th year of being a Hogwarts student, she has gotten used to the snide remarks and dirty looks from her fellow housemates. And she is good at ignoring all of them, prefering the company of other houses instead. It’s not like she spends much time in the Slytherin dorm or common room so that doesn’t comes as that big of a problem to her. The only time she has to deal with the rest of the insufferable Slytherins is during classes.

But not all of them are unbearable, Y/N has several friends too inside the house, mostly those who are either half bloods or purebloods who have the same ideals as the Weasley. They’re the band of outliers. The odd ones.

That’s why it came as a surprise to her when she got paired up with Blaise Zabini during Potions for the rest of the year and he turned out to be... nice. She was more than prepared for the insults and taunting comments but all she received was pleasant small talk, he even complemented her dexterity and said thank you after class was finished. What has the world come to?

It’s not like she’s complaining about the rather lovely turn of events, but it just doesn’t make any sense to her. Blaise Zabini is the epitome of pureblood and one of Malfoy’s closest mate, why in Merlin’s name would he bother associating himself with her? A working class Slytherin. Surely he sees her as an unfitting being, someone not worthy of her blood. So what’s with the facade?

With every lesson, she found that they actually share a lot of commonalities. To name a few, Blaise too enjoys the art of potion making and he is actually a gastronome too; a lover of good food. But who in their right mind doesn’t?

Y/N catches herself anticipating every Potions class excitedly, looking forward to spending time with Blaise again and provided that she has a good excuse for it, none would bother them.

They grew closer and closer, taking pleasure in each other’s company. And as time runs, feelings grow. It started out simple enough, one day after they have wrapped up another lesson, Blaise asked her, “Anything on your schedule after this?”

To which she answered, “I’m planning to go to the library and get some reading done, why?”

“Mind if I tag along?” His question caught her off guard, second guessing whether she heard it correctly but Blaise’s hopeful eyes said otherwise.

“Sure, Zabini. Why not” And then he smiled. That damn smile that got her brain all fuzzy and her heart beating out of control. She really needs to get ahold of herself.

And that afternoon they wasted the rest of the day together, until it’s almost past curfew and they both of them reluctantly made their way back to the dungeons.

———————————————————————

“Fancy meeting you here” A familiar deep voice startled Y/N, she might have even jumped a little.

It was just another normal trip to Hogsmeade before she suddenly found herself face to face with her Potions partner inside Honeydukes.

“I think that should be my line, Blaise. Don’t other Slytherins usually hate going to Hogsmeade? after all it’s swarming with Gryffindors” Y/N retorted back, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Well I guess I just want a change of scenery, can’t you blame me for that?”

“Being cooped up inside a dungeon does that to you.. but the good thing you’re here now”

Y/N redirected her line of vision towards the shelves, eyes scanning over the rows of sweets to find what she’s looking for.

“Aha!” She shouted triumphantly, reaching out for a box of Salt Water Taffy. Y/N turned to look at the boy who’s still standing beside her, “Hey Blaise? can you grab some Cauldron Cakes for me”

Wordlessly he walked to the racks located on the other side, where said sweets are. “Here you go, principessa” He said while handing it to her.

Y/N can’t help the weird face that she’s probably making right now, “Principessa huh? did I just earn myself a new nickname?”

To be honest she’s just trying to poke a reaction out of him when in reality she’s absolutely loving the way the word rolls from his tongue. Blaise speaking Italian is definitely the crème de la crème for her.

Blaise gave her a small smile, “I think it suits you”

Y/N is trying hard to fight back a blush that is threatening to creep on her cheeks. Blaise is not a man of many words, that much she has learned, so little moments like this is precious to her. Moments where she can see the cracks in his usually stoic front.

Blaise waited patiently for her to pay her sweets before he falls in line beside her, the two of them seemed to get the same idea as they set a nice and slow walking pace.

“Who did you come here with?” Blaise asked, watching her as she opens the taffy.

“My brothers.. although i’m pretty sure both Fred and George are on a date now, and Ron is off somewhere with Harry”

After she succesfully tore off the packaging, she grab a taffy and bite into it, moaning in the process “Merlin, I would never get bored of these”

Meanwhile Blaise is looking at her the whole time, face turning into one of amusement, “Can I have a bite? taffy’s my favorite too”

To his surprise (and delight) instead of letting him take one out himself, Y/N reached in for a taffy and guide it in front of his mouth, “You’re really gonna feed me? what do you think I am, Y/N”

“Either bite it or i’ll have it myself, suit yourself” Y/N said plainly, a challenge clearly written on her face.

Blaise scoffed but slowly he leaned forward, biting the middle of the taffy while looking straight to her eyes, taking it slowly from her fingers, “Delicious as always”

Is he still talking about the taffy or something else entirely? Y/N wouldn’t know.. well he is savoring the sweets but his eyes tells something different.

Y/N cleared her throat, trying to ease some tensions, “Well are you going to return to the castle or....?” She asked, drawling out her statement.

“Want to go for some hot drinks? we still got some time before curfew”

“I’d love that”

———————————————————————

That’s how they ended up in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. This is Y/N’s first time here. Although the wafting scent of all kind of teas is mouthwatering, but the view that greeted them inside kind of threw her off.

The decoration was very tacky, frilly, and covered with bows. Pink assaulted her vision everywhere. Plus the place is cramped with couples. No one even bother paying attention to them since they walked in because most of the couples are busy staring at each other’s eye or snogging.

She shouldn’t be surprised, Harry did mention once that this place is the usual haunt for happy couples.

As they took a seat on the last empty table, Y/N looked at Blaise questioningly, “You sure about this place? it’s like a hot spot for couples, don’t want to give other people the wrong idea, do you?”

“And what would that be?” The git had the nerve to smirk cockily, leaning in closer until she can actually feel his breath on her skin.

Y/N quickly retreated back into the plush seat, “Nevermind that, is chamomile okay?”

“Brilliant, it’s like we share a thought”

Turned out chamomile is Blaise’s favorite brew too, just like her. Another thing to add to their growing list of shared love for something.

The sun is starting to set outside, giving an orange and pink glow filtering in through the window near them. It really is a glorious view.

They’ve talked for hours, conversation flowing easily as if they have always been the best of bud, being with Blaise felt good. It felt right.

Y/N can’t stop but stare his way, taking in his features. From his high cheekbones to the curve of his full lips.

“Y/N...” He suddenly half whispered her name, she meets his eyes again, “Yes..?”

Blaise watched her face carefully for any sign of hesitation or rejection as he slowly leans in, all is left between them now is what little space between their lips.

“May I kiss you?” He murmured. With the close proximity that they’re in, his lips even touched hers slightly when he speaks. Sending jolts through her body.

“Yes... please” She replied breathlessly.

Blaise grinned before he closed the distance, securing his lips on her, firm but not demanding. He’s letting her set the pace. But she doesn’t want slow or sweet, she wants passion. And he gave it to her. Sealing the unspoken deal between them.

———————————————————————

Y/N is sitting cross legged on the fur rug, back propped by a small pillow in the far back corner of the library, as she hums softly under her breath. Her fingers are rubbing soothing circles in Blaise’s head while he’s laying down with his head on her lap. Another library date.

Ever since the kiss at Madam Puddifoot’s, they’ve been closer than ever. Spending every waking moment with each other as much as they can. Sometimes Blaise would even hold her hand under the desk during Potions.

“What are we, Blaise?” She asked, voicing her confusion.

“Whatever you want us to be, principessa” He replied. One of his hands settle on her cheek, adding in the intimacy.

“What if I want more....” Y/N bites her bottom lips, scared of his reaction.

“More...?” Blaise asked, urging her to go on.

“Yeah... what if I want to be your girlfriend?”

Blaise was quiet for a minute and as the silent grew longer, so does the anxiousness that is clawing her insides.

“Then be my girlfriend, Y/N” He finally replied, a genuine smile blossomed on his handsome face.

“Really?” Y/N asked again, giving him a chance to back out if he was only joking around. As she scanned his face carefully, she found nothing but sincerity.

“Will you be my girlfriend (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

“God yes, a thousand times yes”

———————————————————————

Five months has passed and they’ve been succcessful so far in keeping their relationship a secret from the rest of Hogwarts. Well of course Y/N has told her brothers about it because she can’t really keep something as important as this from them, and although she was met by protests and resistance at first, they eventually let her be and said that they will still keep an eye on her and especially on Blaise. If he as much as put one foot in the wrong place, he’s gonna face the wrath of the Weasley twins in the form of never-ending pranks. That much was made clear.

Being in a secret relationship proves to be difficult and draining after a while. True at first it gave her such a thrill, all the midnight trysts and stolen kisses and secret longing glances. But she’s getting tired of all the sneaking around, of the pretending. She wants to be able to kiss him whenever she wants, walk to or back from class with him, eat at the Great Hall together, cheer for him in quidditch matches. Y/N feels like they are missing out on soo many things that most couple get to do together.

It’s even more unnerving for her now especially since Daphne Greengrass has been making nonstop advances at her boyfriend. Although Blaise never took a mind to it, but still she doesn’t seem to get the clue and hang around him all the time. Slytherins are even starting to bet on whether or not they will date by the end of the term. You can imagine the state that Y/N’s in under all these load.

“They would be such a handsome couple”

“Daphne Zabini does have a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Blaise should just stop playing hard to get and get with her already!”

These are some of the words that she heard thrown around her everywhere she goes. Blaise and Daphne, Daphne and Blaise. God, it’s sickening.

It was sometime before midnight, Blaise and Y/N are laying on the grass outside near the Black Lake. Blaise was trying to tell her about something funny that happened to Draco when he noticed that she’s no longer paying attention.

“Something on your mind?” He asked, pulling her out of her daze.

Y/N turned to look at him, “You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?”

Blaise’s eyes went wide at the accusation, he even looked wounded “How could you say that, principessa? I care about you so much”

“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that....” She trailed off, dropping her stare, she couldn’t even find it in herself to look at him.

She felt Blaise’s arms sneaked on her waist, pulling her to him. She weakly encased her arms on his back. Letting her head rest on his chest.

“What is it that troubles you so? come on, you know you can tell me anything” He encouraged her.

“I’m just jealous I guess... people are betting on you and Daphne and it bothers me a lot.... I mean you’re my boyfriend, not hers but people don’t know that, do they?”

Blaise cup her chin softly and raised her head so that they see eye to eye, “Do you know why I asked you to keep it a secret?”

She looked back at him, silently asking why.

“I didn’t want people coming at you, I know the others won’t take it lightly and I don’t want anything bad happening to you because of me. I could never be ashamed of you, Y/N”

His words brought some comfort to her, hearing him admit it out loud. Chasing her fears away, but some part of her still feel down. Not that she would let Blaise know that.

“I know this may be too fast but..... I love you Blaise” She whispered to his ear, she felt his breath hitched at the 3 words.

But he just answered her with a kiss. She doesn’t get to hear him say it back.

———————————————————————

The next day, Y/N returned to a lively common room. Potions class has been cancelled (which is surprising because Professor Snape never ever cancelled a class) which leaves the rest of the fourth year students free for the rest of the day.

Y/N was just about to make her way into the girls dormitory when Blaise suddenly hauled himself up into the table located in the center of the room. Gaining curious looks from every single person there.

“May I have your attention please?” He said, although he spoke in normal volume but Blaise has the power to make all attention immediately goes to him. Everyone hanging onto his every word.

“I have an announcement to make” Now this got the room breaking into a flurry of whispers, people speculating about whether or not it concerns the ‘Daphne bet’.

“I’ve heard about the bet that some of you have the audacity to make and I would like to make one thing clear so listen closely” He looks pointedly to every single faces near him, trying to get his point across.

“For those of you who don’t know, my name’s Blaise Zabini..... and i’m in love with Y/N Weasley”

To say that Y/N is dumbfounded would be an understatement to what she’s currently feeling as all eyes suddenly turned her way. A sea of shocked faces. And Y/N can only look back dumbly as she too is still trying to process what just happened.

“She is my girlfriend and has been since 5 months ago, so stop with the dumb rumors” Blaise continued. He too is looking her way, giving her a smile that she loves.

To make it even more mind-boggling, Draco Malfoy decided that he too would like to have a say about this matter.

“If any of you have a problem with it, wands at dawn. Take your problem up with me and Blaise in a duel”

Did Draco Malfoy just stand up for her for some unknown reason? Blaise she could understand... but Draco Malfoy?!

Y/N watched as Blaise gave a few taps on Draco’s back, “Alright then if that is clear, now bugger off, all of you” Blaise said in a very intimidating tone. Making the rest of the Slytherins scampered off, leaving Y/N with only Blaise and Draco in the common room.

“I can’t believe you did that” Y/N said, slowly approaching her boyfriend. “And you too, what has gotten into you? don’t you hate me or something?” She said, giving Draco an incredulous stare.

Blaise reached out for her and pull her to sit on the coach beside him, he snaked one arm on her shoulder, letting it rest there.

“I don’t hate you..” Draco replied, rolling his eyes. “I may or may not hate your siblings, but not you. Plus now you’re my best mate’s girl so I have to play nice” He grinned, an honest grin at that. It’s weird really, seeing Draco Malfoy smile genuinely.

“Thank you, Blaise. You don’t have to you know”

“Oh please... I know how much it actually bothered you”

“Plus now you have no reason to be jealous, we got nothing to hide anymore” Blaise said, as he boop her nose with his finger, making her scrunch it.

“Soo you love me huh?” Y/N teased, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

“Yeah yeah... I do love you” Blaise sighed, as if it burdens him a lot to admit that.

“Ugh... couples” Draco groaned from his position on the sofa across from them. “I’m gonna go before I throw up” He added before standing up and minding his own business.

Y/N and Blaise laughed at his reaction but despite that, they stayed in the same position, not minding anyone or anything, now that they have each other.

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