#fuck I meant new rome

[what-in-procrastination]

okay obviously the plot of the new percy jackson book is stupid and makes no sense but also like, whatever. like he knows I’m still gonna read it and probably cry and I can’t fault him for that he’s literally correct

[somewhereincairparavel]

Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time. 

It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training. 

His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.

Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.

Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”. 

He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.

Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.

Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.

With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace. 

The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.

These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him. 

He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.

 But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately” 

“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.

Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.

Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.

He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy. 

Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him. 

Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.

Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.

This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.

His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.

Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.

Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.

Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.

Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.

His father. Jason's father, Zeus. 

Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much. 

Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time. 

Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying. 

She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less. 

He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.

Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.

Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes. 

To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.

To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.

To your father, you are merely one of his many sons. 

To your sister, you are a stranger.

Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed. 

“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.

 Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.

Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.

Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero. 

The lost hero. Jason Grace.

[avastrasposts]

Bona Dea - a Marcus Acacius story

Complete brain rot, this story has been in my head since last summer, just needed his name and his status. I'm yeeting this out there tonight even though I said I'd post it tomorrow. I'm too excited, I want to share!

8.6k - porn with a smidgen of plot, mentions of slavery and prostitution if someone wants to avoid that. Some Latin (explanations under the cut)

Enjoy!

Thermae - bath house

Caldarium - the hot pool in the bath house

Servi - slave or servant

Leno - pimp

Lupanarium - brothel

Domina - lady

Dominus - lord

Amita - aunt

Stola - a female dress

Meretrix - a high class prostitute

Concubinus - concubine

Carrisime - dear, beloved, a term of endearment

magnus - greatest

Puella - young woman

Futuo - Fuck

The town had no name, at least not in his mind. Somewhere to the north, where his army was camped for the next few days, a respite for the soldiers before the last march back to Rome. This close to the capital of the empire, there was no need for them to dig in, but he made them do it anyway. Erect the palisade, dig the ditches, Marcus Acacius was proud of the show of Roman military discipline they put on for the peasants in this backwards corner of the empire’s countryside. 

But being this close to Rome meant he and the highest ranking officers could have the luxury of staying in one of the town’s villas. It was nothing compared to the one he resided at in Rome, but for a few nights, it would do. And the local thermae proved adequate, the hot water flowing freely in the caldarium, filling the pool and relaxing his aching muscles. They, he and his officers, had enjoyed a few hours relaxing, taking the opportunity to get properly clean after many weeks' march. Only one last stretch, and then they would all be home. For a while at least, until the emperors decided on a new war, a new part of the empire to conquer and subjugate. 

“I’ll see you later,” he gave a wave to his closest allies, as they exited the bath without him. Acacius was determined to make the most of the hot water and leaned back, stretching out his long legs, flexing his tired muscles. It would be a few more long weeks on horseback before he could do this again. But the next time, it would be at home, and he couldn’t wait to get to it. 

With a groan he sat up and twisted his body, loosening the tight joints of his back before he slowly made his way out of the hot pool and into the cooler parts of the thermae. When he stepped out onto the street again, he felt refreshed, muscles loose and his body clean. He took a long, deep breath. 

“Gallio, go back to the villa, see to it that all is in order for tomorrow's feast,” he said, dismissing his slave without a backwards glance. His servi bowed and hurried off, while Acacius started walking in the opposite direction. He’d seen the tell tale signs of a high class brothel while they rode into town, and he had every intention of finding it and paying for a warm cunt to sink himself into, a good end to the day.  

The sun was sinking behind the town’s wall and the warm December day was starting to cool as he made his way through the narrow streets, following the phallic signs on the walls. The heavy wool of his cloak was welcome now, and he wrapped it around himself. The streets had been crowded before, now they were almost empty, and he found it odd that everyone would step inside so early in the evening. But the door of the brothel was still open and a warm glow came from within as he stepped through the door. 

“Leno!” he called out to the pimp who would run any brothel of this standard, and a man appeared from behind a doorway and regarded him with wide eyes. 

“General, what are you doing here? I have no girls tonight!” the man said, spotting his rank with just a swift glance at his attire. “And I sent home all the males and I was just about to close the doors.” 

Acacius frowned at the man, “Why are you closing up? And where are the girls?” 

“Bona Dea, general,” the leno said, his face apologetic, “All the women of the town are celebrating her tonight.” 

“You gave all the whores the night off just for Bona Dea?” Acacius asked. He knew the festival well of course, it was celebrated all across the peninsula, but the rites and rituals were secret to men, so he only knew that the women of his family would attend the temple and leave the men at home. “Do you not expect any male customers tonight?” 

“General, I apologise, I didn’t give them the night off, they took it, nothing can stop the women of this town from celebrating Bona Dea. And beg your pardon, general, but you should hurry back to your quarters. No man should walk the street after dark on Bona Dea. The women have free rein to do as they wish with any man they find out of doors on this night.” 

“What do you mean, leno? Free rein?” 

Acacius regarded the nervous looking pimp, he was shuffling from foot to foot as he twisted his hands, glancing nervously at the increasingly darker street. 

“Just that, general, free rein. Any man they find, they can do what they want with, rob him, mutilate him, fuck him, or make him fuck someone else, or something. I’ve heard of a man who was made to fuck a goat while the women stood around and laughed, drinking wine, getting drunk and pissing themselves. And no one can do or say anything about it. What happens during Bona Dea, they can’t be punished for, it’s the law.” 

“No law I’ve ever heard of,” Acacius scoffed, “and I’d like to see them try anything with a Roman general.” 

“With all due respect, general, you’re only carrying your pugio, and by law, you can’t harm them, only do as they command. It’s the law of Bona Dea,” the leno glanced at the door again but Acacius just shook his head and turned to leave. 

“They’re only women, I think I can handle myself.” 

“Against a handful, yes. But they roam in packs, twenty, thirty, I’ve heard them pull on the door here and cackle like witches. They can take down even a large man like yourself and then you*ll be at their mercy,” the leno was all but ushering Acacius out onto the street now as he started closing the door. 

“I may enjoy that, my cock was expecting a whore tonight, maybe I’ll have to find one of your runaway girls and make her have her way with me,” Acacius grinned at the nervous looking leno, who just gave him a quick bow, before the door to the brothel closed. 

“Bona Dea….” Acacius chuckled, “a night when women can do as they please? What kind of backwards country hovel is this place?”

He wrapped the cloak around himself again and set out towards the villa, maybe he would find some woman on the way, but he certainly wasn’t about to traipse around this town in search of one. Let them have their festival, he would settle for one of the slave girls at the villa. 

Night had truly fallen now, and the narrow streets were dark, very little light found its way down to where he tried to navigate the uneven surface. The lamp holders were unlit, even the men usually responsible for that seemed to be shying away from their duties on this night. With a curse Accacius tripped and nearly fell as he rounded a corner. The scabbard of his pugio clattered against the rough stones as he caught the edge of the building just in time. He pulled himself up and wiped his hands, stepping closer to the side of the street, putting his hand on the wall for guidance. 

“Futuo,” he hissed, fumbling his way forward in the dark, the only blessing being that this town seemed to be too small for the street gangs that would’ve plagued any street this dark in Rome. 

He came to a sudden stop as a door swung open a little bit further down the street, light spilling out and illuminating the uneven paving. 

“Hey there, keep the door open!” he called to whomever had provided the light, “It’s pitch black out here and I’ve got no torch.” Hurrying his steps now that he could see more of where he was going, he approached the open door. A shadow moved just inside, the shape of a person, and he thought he heard the giggle of a girl. Thinking nothing of it, he stepped into the rectangle of light and was blinded by the shine of a bright oil lamp. Unseen arms wound around his own and he suddenly felt himself pulled, yanked, in through the door, as female laughter erupted around him. Soft hands grabbed his body as he blinked to regain his vision, but before he could see, someone slipped a cloth over his eyes and the world was plunged into darkness again, a tight knot being tied at the back of his head. 

He chuckled, Bona Dea indeed, and decided to play along, feeling female hands pulling him, guiding him, into the house. 

“We found one!” a young woman called in excitement as he felt the air change, and he was led into a room. “A man foolish enough to be out on the streets!” 

The room erupted into delighted, tipsy, laughter. The smell of sweet wine hung heavy in the air and the alcoholic breath of the women nearest him lingered in his nose. 

“Tie him up, don’t let him see us,” came a command from what sounded like an older woman, “and let’s decide what to do with him.” 

Acacius felt himself pushed into the room and his arms were forced behind his back. This was not something he was willing to accept and he shook his broad form, easily discarding whomever was trying to restrain him. 

“Hold!” came the voice of the older woman again, and the woman trying to tie his hands went still behind him. 

“General, you know the rules of this night, you are ours until the sun comes up, you must obey our every order and may not hinder or harm us in any way. That is the law of Bona Dea.” 

Acacius felt equal measure anger and lust rise inside him. He was not a man used to being ordered around, tied up, not in control. But another, more base instinct, was fighting for space inside him, his cock hardening at the idea of being at these women’s mercy if they chose to use him. Not being in control for once, seeing what women would do if he let them use him as he often used the whores at the lupanarium. As long as they didn’t make him fuck a goat, he could see this as enjoyable evening. 

“Apologise, domina,” Acacius said, bowing his head towards the source of the voice, “I will follow the law of Bona Dea.” 

“If that is the case, we will not need to restrain you, general. Leave his hands untied.” 

The last was said to the room and behind him, Acacius heard the woman who had tried to bind his hands together, step back. 

“Bring him to the centre, let us see what kind of specimen the goddess has brought us.” 

Delighted cheers broke out at this, all around him. The room seemed to hold at least ten or so women, and they were clearly excited by the prospect of having a man under their control for the night. 

The woman at his back took hold of his arm and guided him forward, presumably to the spot where he could be seen by all the women. He could hear tittering, giggling whispers as he was left to stand, unseeing, surrounded by them all. 

“Remove his clothes, but be careful. We do not wish to send our general home tomorrow morning with his attire in shambles.” 

A shiver of trepidation, he refused to believe it was fear or nerves, shot through his body, at the words of the unknown woman. The soft shuffling of bare feet on a mosaic floor could be heard as at least two women approached him. Soon deft hands were removing first his cloak and then his belt. Someone knelt and untied his sandals, making him lift his feet as they slipped off. The skin on his abdomen pebbled as his tunic was removed, exposed to the air of the room, even though it was warm. 

The knowledge of unseen eyes on him, as the last of his vestures were removed, was an unsettling feeling. He squared his broad shoulders and straightened his back. If they wanted to see him naked, let them see all of his hardened soldier’s body, he had nothing to hide. What scars and disfigurements he had, he carried with pride as they showed the world what he had done for Rome. 

You stood at the top of the circle, in front of the Roman general who was now stripped of all his clothes, the blindfold the only piece of cloth on him. The younger girls were pleased with what they saw, appreciative hums and gasps were heard from around the room and you could see their excited faces. 

“He’s a fine one, good catch, Julia!” a younger woman exclaimed and she was joined by the voices of others agreeing. 

You could only give them right, he was a fine specimen. A general in the mould of the likes of the great Caesar, kept fit by his army life, living the same life as his soldiers. Not going soft and weak with age like those who turned to politics and intrigue. The man in front was standing tall, his long arms hanging relaxed by his sides, only a slight twitch in his fingers betraying something of his nerves. The golden skin was decorated by scars, old injuries, but gleamed under the light of the oil lamps. By the looks of it, and by the scent of the thermae, he’d been at the bath house before stumbling down the dark street outside your house. 

“What shall we do with him?” you asked, your voice lower, holding a promise and making the giggling of the other women die down. You took a few steps forward in the now quiet room, standing in front of him, taking in his clean scent and the way his still damp hair curled around his ears. You had to look up to properly regard what you could see of his face, he was a tall man, a proud Roman nose, a strong jaw, a handsome face even though you couldn’t see his eyes. 

“How shall we use him? Hmmm?”  

Bringing your hand up and gently touching his chin, the soft scruff of his beard tickled the tips of your fingers. The man didn’t flinch when you touched him, and it made you smile. He had been prepared for your touch, expecting you to explore his body. With slow movements you traced his jaw, down his thick neck, his wide shoulders and down over his chest. Glancing down, you saw his cock hardening, already rising up from between his thighs. 

“Oh, he likes that!” Julia exclaimed behind you, and the room erupted in giggles as the women closed the circle and shuffled closer to see. 

“How would you like to be used, general?” you mused, unable to keep the smile out of your voice at his obvious excitement, and in response, you saw the corner of his lip quirk up. 

“I am yours for the night, domina,” he replied, bowing his head to you again. 

Biting back a smile, you glanced at Julia who was standing at your shoulder, her eyes shining with elation. 

“Shall we see how much he likes it?” you asked her and she nodded, a giggle bubbling up through her. 

“Touch him, amita, make him hard for us.” 

The soft hand that had been exploring his chest slipped down and caressed his belly. He could feel fingernails trailing through the hairs on his stomach, sending a shiver of pleasure down to his cock. It filled with blood and he swallowed back a groan as the woman’s fingers traced the outline of it, an easy touch designed to torment him. 

“Let us hear your pleasure, general,” the woman said, her sensuous voice close to his ear now, the warmth of her body radiating over his skin, “I want to hear what sounds you make when you fuck your favourite meretrix.” 

Her filthy words made him groan again, just as her hand closed around his cock, holding it firm in her warm grip. 

“I like hearing your voice, general. I wonder if I can make you beg for release before this night is over? How hard can we make you before we allow you to spill your seed?” 

The words were matched with a slow stroke of his shaft, holding him firmly, twisting as it reached the tip. Her thumb smeared a drop of liquid over his sensitive head and he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching. 

He felt her move, her hand coming up to grip his jaw, firmly, but not with any pain. 

“Don’t hold back, if you hold back, we’ll make you suffer longer. Let us hear you,” the woman said, loud enough for the room to hear, and he heard the other women agree, telling him to be loud, to let them know how much he enjoyed it. 

He gave a short nod, and she gave his cock a firm stroke before letting go. 

“Cornelia, bring me the olive oil, let’s make this easier for him.” 

Another woman moved in the room and he heard the stopper of an amphora being pulled out. A few seconds passed and then her hand returned to his cock, slick and warmer than before, coated in oil. He didn’t hold back his loud groan when she covered him with the liquid. Firm, slow strokes filling his cock with blood, making it pulse and ache in that familiar, pleasurable way. 

Tilting his head back, he panted, cursing under his breath. Whoever this was, she knew how to stroke a man, a slight twist of her wrist as she came to the tip, pulling back his foreskin as she slid her hand down again. 

“Domina….” he groaned, “domina…”

His breathless moan was met by delighted cheers and he felt his neck heat up, self consciousness washed over him and he dropped his head down onto his chest. 

“Now, now, girls,” the woman said, her hand steadily stroking him, keeping him hard and full, “we want him to give us as much pleasure as possible tonight, let’s appreciate the service he’s giving us and make sure he enjoys himself too.” 

You stepped back from him, just a small step, and let go of his cock. It was a glorious thing, and you even doubted the younger women in the room were experienced enough to appreciate how well endowed he was. He’d filled up rapidly, and now it stood straight out from his tatch of dark curls, thick and weeping, hard as silk covered steel. By comparison, your husband’s member was a pitiful sight, even when erect. 

You took a moment to admire him where he stood, his arms still hanging by his sides, his hands now balled into fists. A red flush had risen on his chest and neck, the beating of his heart was thrumming under his skin, and as you watched, the tip of his tongue came out and licked his lips, a gasp escaping him. 

“Maybe we should give you some small treat too, seeing as you’re giving us your handsome body to play with,” you mused, putting your hand on his firm shoulder. His skin was warm to the touch, and you let your hand slide down along his arm, gently squeezing the hard muscles. You couldn’t resist touching him, he was like a god come to life, maybe even Mars in disguise. 

Taking his hand in yours, you brought it to your own shoulder, using his hand to push the shoulder strap of your stola to the side. The garment was loose, the same simple cloth you all wore on this night, all signs of your social status removed as you celebrated Bona Dea. But it also meant his hand met your skin as he pushed the fabric over your shoulder. The rough fingers were warm and he seemed to hesitate when he felt the stola slip to the side. With a swift movement, you undid the clasp on the other shoulder and let the whole thing fall to the floor, the buckle clattering as it hit the mosaic. You saw him shift his head, hearing the sound and interpreting it correctly. You took hold of his hand again, guiding it to your breast. A smile broke out on your face as you watched his reaction to finding your budding nipple under his palm. His tongue came out again, a quick swipe over his lips, as he inhaled. Letting him feel his way around, you watched him weigh your breast in his hand, thumb gliding over your nipple, making you briefly close your eyes. 

“Show us how you make your meretrix wet enough for your cock, make me ready for you, concubinus,” you hummed, wondering how this powerful general would react to being addressed as one of the pretty men who were kept by some wealthy ladies. His hand stilled on your breast, holding it firm, and you could swear he was searching for your eyes through the darkness of his blindfold. He licked his lips again, and bent his head. The heat of his mouth closed around your nipple as his tongue lapped over it. A whimper came from you, seeing this man bend to your will, doing as you asked. 

“Does it feel good, amita?” Julia asked in a breathless voice behind you, her tone was laced with need, you could hear the arousal coursing through her veins as she watched the general suck at your breast. 

“He’s certainly talented with his mouth,” you replied, the laughter in your voice replaced by a moan when he tugged gently at your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure to your core. The man hummed in response, moving his mouth to your other breast as his hand fell to your hip. Caressing it with firm motions, he slipped it down over your soft belly, cupping your cunt with his hand. The breath caught in your throat as he pushed a thick finger between your folds, making you jerk your hips into his hand as he easily pushed into the wet heat that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. 

“Domina….” he muttered against your breast, “you are well and truly wet enough for my cock already. Can I give it to you?” 

He heard her swallow at his words, her hand coming up and slipping into the hair at the back of his head, the slight sting more pleasurable then he would’ve thought. With a gentle tug she pulled him off her breast, he let her hard pebble slip from his mouth and reluctantly pulled his hands from her cunt when she stepped back from him. 

“Let us all be undressed,” she said to the women in the room, “lay him on the floor and make use of this hard cock that the goddess has blessed us with.” 

“But he can’t come!” one of the women said, her voice a drunken giggle, “We need that cock hard for all of us!”

“You can barely stand, Cassia, too much wine in such a small girl,” another woman called out, and was met by loud laughter and he could hear Cassia laugh with them. 

“More wine while we watch!” she called, “Who shall ride him first?” 

Acacius felt two pairs of hands pull him down, guiding him gently onto soft bedding. As he tipped his head back, someone adjusted his blindfold, making sure he couldn’t see anything but darkness. It was a strange feeling, flat on his back, his cock hard and weeping, hearing the unknown women move around him as their stolas fell to the floor around him. 

“Julia, you caught him, you should have the first ride,” a woman said and the rest joined in, cheering on Julia who was giggling as she knelt beside him. He could feel her hands on his abdomen when she straddled his legs. 

“He’s so big!” she exclaimed and his hips jerked up as her hand closed around his already aching cock, “Much bigger than Appius!”

“Remember, he can’t come,” the older woman chuckled close by, she seemed to be kneeling behind his head, “How should we punish him if he does?” 

There was a murmur among the women as they tossed ideas over his head, someone suggested he’d be made to fuck a goat as soon as he was hard again and he thought he might never get hard if that was the prospect. 

“No, poor goat,” the older woman laughed, “What has it done to deserve that?” 

Acacius silently let a relieved sigh slip out, someone suggested he’d be covered in garum, another thought he should be made to run a gauntlet through the room, that he thought he’d easily manage. 

“Why not let everyone know he was foolish enough to venture out on Bona Dea?” Julia said from her position straddling his thighs. “Take his clothes and let him make his way back to his quarters with this glorious body on display for the whole town? We can send a slave to the encampment with his clothes later on.”

The room erupted in cheers and it was agreed to be the punishment. Acacius gritted his teeth, he could easily imagine the looks of his soldiers, the ribbing he’d get from his officers, if that was to happen. He would have to use every trick in the book to keep himself from coming. Already he felt the familiar tingling in his crotch as the woman called Julia shifted above him. Her hand was firmly wrapped around his cock and when the head met the heat of her cunt, he groaned. Slowly, whimpering at the size of him, she sank down, rocking her hips to take more. 

“Gods, he is so thick,” she panted, her hands flat on his belly as she carefully lifted her hips, letting him slip out before she sank down again. 

Acacius bit down on his lips and hissed out a long breath, “Puella, can I touch you, I want to hold onto your hips, let me fuck you better than your Appius.” 

“You can touch me everywhere, concubinus,” she moaned in response, taking one of his hands in her own and firmly placing it on her breast. He let the other find her hip, gripping on to the soft flesh, he bucked his hips up into her. Her answering cry of pleasure made him bite his tongue, staving off the pressure building in his balls. Squeezing her tits, rolling the hard nipples under his fingers, he continued to fuck up into her, making her bounce on him, he could feel the soft slap of her ass every time she dropped back down. Soon she was moaning loudly, crying out for him and he let his hand slip from her breast, finding the little pearl at the top of her cunt that gave women so much pleasure. With deft fingers he caressed it, his cock twitching as she responded to his touch, whimpering above him. 

“Gods, I’m…” she gasped, her voice giving out as the walls of her cunt gripped his cock, and every muscle in her body froze. She sobbed as she trembled above him, her hand batting away his fingers from her cunt, and he softened the rolls of his hips, fucking her through the waves of her orgasm. 

With a breathless giggle she finally stilled on him, “Sisters, help me up, my legs have no strength,” she laughed and he felt the weight of her lifted from his hips. 

“My turn!” someone called from beside him and the room erupted into laughter. 

“Give him a moment to calm down,” the older woman said with a smile, still close to his head, and he felt her hand on his shoulder as her voice came close to his ear.

“How is your stamina, general?” she asked in a soft voice, the warmth of her breath against his ear even more tortuous than the feeling of Julia’s cunt on his cock. He was hoping she’d fuck him before the night was over, the very thought of how wet she’d been, made him clench his jaw. 

“Still strong enough for these girls, domina, I will save my load for your wet cunt,” he whispered in reply. The tightening of her grip on his shoulder made him smile, he couldn’t see her, but he knew his words had made her press her thighs together at the thought of taking his cock. 

“More wine!” someone called and cups were raised, some wine being spilled onto the floor with sighs and giggles. 

“I might have to offer you my cunt in the end,” his domina, as he was starting to think of her as, whispered back to him, “Most of these girls are too drunk to be of any use.”

“Alba, take your turn,” Julia’s voice called, “And come join me to recover afterwards.” 

The woman named Alba laughed and he felt her legs swing over his hips. She wasted no time closing her hand around his cock, spreading Julia’s arousal even more thoroughly over him. 

“I wonder if he tastes as good as he looks?” she asked and as her mouth closed around the head of him, he groaned loudly, gripping the bedding underneath him and cursed. He could feel his domina’s hands in his hair, caressing his temples, stroking back his damp curls. 

“She’s a tease, that one,” she laughed quietly in his ear, placing a delicate kiss on his forehead. 

He couldn’t responde, only agreeing with a grunt, as Alba’s mouth swallowed him whole, sinking all of him into her throat before she pulled off with a deep breath. Her hand was stroking him up and down in fast motion and he felt helpless against the rising heat in his abdomen, a strangled cry coming from him as he bit his bottom lip hard. 

“Slow down, Alba, you’ll ruin the fun for yourself if you make him come too fast,” his domina said and Alba laughed. 

“I’d better get my fill of him then,” she replied and Acacius felt her adjust herself above him as his cock yet again slipped into a wet cunt. He groaned as she squeezed him, lifting up and coming down over him with a roll of her hips, riding him hard and fast. From across the room he heard some of the women give lazy cheers, clinking cups as they egged their friend on. 

“Ride him until he begs for release, Alba,” one woman called, her voice slurred by the wine they all seemed to be downing fast. 

“I’ll ride him until he makes my body shake,” Alba called back, panting loudly, moaning as he grabbed her hips and slammed his cock hard into her. He was determined to make her come quick, hard, so that he didn’t have to fight against his own aching cock. It was ready to burst, his balls tight between his legs as the unknown woman used him for her pleasure. 

“T-touch me,” she gasped at him, and he slipped his hand around her ample hips, finding the sweet pearl quickly. As his fingers rubbed across it, she cried out, her nails digging into his chest as she drove him in and out of her slick cunt, her walls beginning to convulse around his cock. 

Her speech was incoherent, just mumbled pleas and gasps, her breathing heavy until she cried out. Her thighs gripped his hips tight, slamming down on him and grinding her cunt into his soaked crotch. She whimpered as the orgasm washed over her, Acacius bit his lip, almost drawing blood, as he forced his mind to think of anything but the woman using him for her pleasure. When she collapsed on top of him, the hair on her head tickling his nose, he wrapped his arms around her back and gently caressed damp skin, her heart thumping against his chest. 

In the background he heard a few giggles and tired cheers, but no one rushed up to take Alba’s place. His cock ached deep inside her and he almost wished he’d come, despite the punishment he’d receive.

The other woman, still sitting by his head, shifted behind him, and he heard her stand up. 

“Come, girl, get on your feet, let the poor man breathe,” she said in a soft voice, he could hear her smile. The weight of Alba lifted from his chest and she seemed to stumble to her feet as the woman led her away. He was left on the bedding, his cock still hard and aching, the air of the room quickly cooling it. Reaching up, he grabbed the base tightly, staving off the worst of his impending release, drawing a deep lungful of air to steady himself. 

You led Alba over to where the rest of the young women had collapsed into piles, drunk on sweet wine and the excitement of the night. None of them were used to the wine of Bona Dea and would have no further enjoyment of the general currently splayed on the bedding across the room. Julia gave you a lazy smile as she made room for Alba next to her, both girls spent and sated. 

With a smile at them, you crossed the mosaic floor again, watching as the man gripped the base of his weeping cock and grimaced. Sinking down on your heels next to him, you gently put your hand on his arm. 

“Come, general, this night isn’t over yet.” 

He sat up and you helped him to his feet, taking his hand and leading him out of the room and further into the building. The darkness of the house fell around the both of you, it was late in the night, but you weren’t tired yet. The striking general, stripped of all his attributes, padded on bare feet behind you, his hand in yours, following blindly and trusting you without question. 

You led him to a room softly lit by oil lamps, and left him standing in the middle while you closed the door. Stepping up behind him you gently untied the blindfold, letting it fall to the floor, and as you moved around him, you saw him blink against the light and then find your face. 

“Domina…?” he asked and you smiled as you saw his deep brown eyes in the golden light. 

“There is no law against the men foolish enough to wander into our celebrations seeing the women they are being tormented by,” you said, answering his unspoken question, “What happens on this night stays between the man and the women.” 

He nodded once and you stepped closer, your bodies pressed together, the hard length of him between you, slick against your flesh. His hands were calloused and rough as they gently grabbed at your hips of their own volition, caressing your skin, warming you. There was no hesitation as you reached up and cupped his cheeks in your hands and moved his soft looking lips to your own. He came willingly, a low rumble in his chest as your tongue met his. For a man who had been achingly hard for the past hour, he moved slowly, measured in the way he tasted you, nipped at your bottom lip and touched your body. 

“Touch me again, make me as wet as your meretrix, general,” you whispered against his lips and you felt the corners of his lips pull up in a smile as his hands pushed you backwards. 

“I want to bury my face between your legs, domina. That’s how I get them wet enough for my cock,” he muttered, watching your face with dark eyes, as you continued to step back for him. 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the thought of him giving you pleasure that way made your body tremble and he noticed, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your legs. 

“I’ve only ever heard tell of some men doing that to women,” you said, the cool metal frame of the bed against your legs, “my husband never did it to me.” 

“I’m sorry, domina, but your husband is a fool. It’s the best way to give pleasure to a woman, to prepare her for a cock like this, and make her enjoyment of the act as great as mine.” 

His warm hands slid down over your hips as he spoke, and now he grabbed them, his strong arms flexing as he picked you up and laid you down on the bed. Settling himself between your thighs, he made you open your legs wide for his broad shoulders. He hooked one arm under your thigh, pushing you open even more, and his eyes made you shiver, as he looked at you with a wicked grin. 

“Take a sturdy hold of the bedding, domina, and let me hear your voice.” 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and were just about to talk back to him, to ask what skills he thought he possessed. But your question was lost to a moan as he lowered his head and ran the tip of his proud nose along the seam of your swollen slit, following with the flat of his tongue. 

Your head tipped back as you groaned into the room, his tongue finding the sensitive bead hidden among your folds and sending a violent stream of pleasure through your body. Never had a man touched it the way his tongue did, lapping at it, circling with slow steady strokes, making it vibrate as he hummed against your flesh, his own pleasure clearly rising as he feasted between your legs. He seemed to be teaching himself how to draw every debased groan and moan from your throat, coming back to repeat the ones that made you pant and dig your fingers hard into the bedding. 

“Domina…” he mumbled against your cunt, “put your hands in my hair, let me feel how good I’m making you feel.” 

You met his eyes as he lifted his face slightly, his beard and jaw shining with your slick, and it made your insides cramp around nothing. “If this is your first time, let me make it one to remember when you go back to your husband.” 

You nodded, dumbly, moving your hands to his hair, the long curls winding around your fingers as he dipped his head again. He pushed against your leg, spreading you for him, as he drove his tongue as deep inside as he could, the glistening tip of his nose circling your sensitive pearl, making you gasp with every pass. 

The warmth of his hand moved over your leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and you felt him shift on the bed. His tongue was still lapping greedily at your folds, but now it was joined by two of his thick fingers, teasing at your opening. As he closed his mouth around the apex of your thighs, suckling on that bead, he pushed his fingers inside you. 

“Gods….” you cried, your body arching up under him as it filled you, stretching you out. Between your legs you felt his tongue increase its speed, heat rising as he moved his fingers in and out, copying the motion of a man’s cock but curling, dragging, his thick fingers over places inside you that you’d never knew existed. Pleasure all but exploded in your body as you groaned for more. 

“Dominus…please…I’m…” 

The fingers on his free hand dug into your flesh, holding you down as he moved up onto his knees, pushing you into the bedding with his body. You saw him work his jaw, feasting on your cunt as he drove your pleasure higher, his fingers pushing deep inside, curling and stroking, driving you towards an edge that you were almost afraid to fall over. 

“Dominus,” you wailed, locking eyes with him as he looked up from between your legs, his mouth still licking every drop you fed him. His dark eyes, wild and almost mad with lust, bore into you, and with one more thrust of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. You could feel his eyes on you as your whole body seized up, ecstasy coursing through every fibre, your throat raw as you sobbed and groaned. His fingers were relentless, stroking you, working your cunt into submission, prolonging every wave of pleasure that radiated from where his mouth sucked at your folds. 

With tired hands you pushed him away when it became too much, your body was shaking, your breathing ragged, and he gently let go of your body, his fingers slipping out. 

“Carissime,” he growled, crawling up over your body, “let me fuck you, let me spill my seed deep inside this tight cunt, and claim you as mine.” 

His skin was damp and hot as he covered you with himself, sinking down on his forearms and placing wet kisses along the side of your neck. The roll of his hips against you made him groan between each kiss, his cock was flushed red and weeping, denied release for so long. His words sent a fresh jolt of arousal through your mind even though your heart was still hammering from what he’d already pulled from you. 

“Carissime,” he repeated, sucking hard on your neck, sure to leave a mark, “Let me fuck you, or suck my cock, just give me release, let me spill myself over your soft tits, I need your body.” 

His pleas wrapped themselves around your head, your limbs grew hot, and the heat between your legs returned. 

“Fuck me,” you whined, grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down over you as your hips rolled up against his hard length. 

“Tell me how, domina, order me, please Bona Dea. You only have one night to take what you want from me.” 

His breath was scorching against your skin as he moved down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking hard at it, nipping, giving you both pain and pleasure that made you whimper and push him closer to your chest. 

“Fuck me from behind, use me like a meretrix,” you said, it came out more like begging, a desperate plea, “My husband never wants to fuck me like that, and never hard, but I crave it, I want to feel your thick cock for days to remember this night.” 

Acacius muttered as he pushed himself up, leaving your breast tender and shining with his spit. 

“He truly is a fool of a man. To have this tight, wet cunt in his bed every night and not fuck it like it deserves? Were you in my household I’d make sure you’d never go unsatisfied again, keep you in my bed day and night.”  

He’d risen to his full length, standing by the side of the bed, and again you took in the glorious form of this man that Bona Dea had blessed you with. His skin had a sheen of sweat, his curls in disarray, and that cock, hard and flushed, weeping from the tip, ready to sink into your cunt. It made your mouth water and the general noticed. 

“Come here, carissime, on all four and turn that sweet ass to me,” he slapped your ass cheek and grabbed your hips, pulling you back towards him. “I can’t tell you how much I look forward to fucking you as hard and rough as you wish. My cock has been waiting all night on being sunk deep into a cunt as sweet as yours.” 

It made you whimper, the way he talked to you, and on instinct, you curved your back, opening yourself up to him. He growled and squeezed your ass again, spreading you open for him to see where his cock would slide in. The blunt head dragged through your folds as Acacius coated his cock with the juices leaking from your puffy folds. It made him hiss, and with one last shred of self control, he grabbed your hips, and slowly sunk into the wet heat, feeling your walls stretch for him, clenching tightly as you moaned. 

“Gods, carissime,” he groaned, his fingers so tight they were sure to leave marks on your skin, “you have the tightest little cunt I’ve ever felt, your husband is a fool, I might have to order him to divorce you, so that you can come to my villa.” 

With a low grumble, he pulled out almost all the way before he pushed in again, harder this time, and it made you keen under him, your core contracting to hold his cock tight. 

Acanius leaned over your back, his hot skin on yours, and he grabbed your hair, winding his fingers into the previously so well maintained hairstyle. Now the curls spilled through his fingers as he pulled your head back. 

“Mi meretrix,” he hissed, “are you ready? I won’t hold back, I can’t.” 

You could only moan a breathless Yes under the weight of his body, your core contracting and pulsing around the thick length of his cock buried deep inside. His voice was strained and taught, he had no self control left. The hand in your hair tightened its grip, the other took a steady hold of your hip and he pulled out. 

When he slammed back in, you cried out, pleasure shot through your body as the impact caught every sensitive spot inside your slick cunt, but he gave you no respite. He set a brutal pace, grunting and panting behind you like a bull, holding you in place as he slammed his cock into your heat over and over, praising your cunt, your tight heat, your body, your willingness to let him use you like this. 

You could only take it, it was like no fucking you’d ever done, he filled you up, not just your cunt, but your whole body, your mind and every sense left tingling at the onslaught. All that filled your mind was how full you were, how his cock felt as it stretched you open, splitting you down the middle, making you cry out in pleasure and need. The man behind you was relentless, his sweat dripped down on your back, scorching hot drops on your own overheated skin. With a growl like an animal, he wrenched you up, flush against his chest as his arm banded across your breast. The rough pads of his fingers immediately found your aching pebble between your legs and circled it, drawing tight patterns that made you wail and cramp. He changed his angle, fucking up into you with the same unforgiving speed and power, and pulled your head back on to his shoulder, his mouth finding your ear, warm breath and gravelled words spilling from him. 

“Carissime, come for me, choke my cock with that tight little cunt of yours, I’ll dream of you on my march back to Rome. Give me the sweetest memory to think of as I fuck my hand in the night.” 

His cock was spearing you, pushing hard and deep inside, while his fingers found the very core of your pleasure. 

“C-come for me, now, I can’t…I can’t hold myself any more,” he panted, his rhythm stuttering, you could feel his cock twitch inside, he was falling over the same edge as you, his body tensing up, the muscles of his stomach contracting against your back as he groaned loudly in your ear. 

“Futuo!” he cried out, and your cunt closed around his cock, your body taught as a bow string under his strong arms as you sobbed into his neck, turning your head to feel more of him as your body convulsed and trembled, the muscles in your legs giving in until it was only his arms around your body that held you up. 

Acacius groaned and cursed as he pumped into you, hot ropes of cum shooting out and filling up the tight cunt that gripped him so hard. His rhythm was faltering, he could hardly move, his eyes were blurry, he held you up as his own legs gave in. With a stumbling step, he pulled you both down onto the bed, falling on your side with his cock still deeply buried in you. He pressed his face into your neck, breathing hard, the build up of the last hour finally being released. His hips jerked, pumping the last of himself into you, and then he stilled. You could feel his arms tight around your chest, his breath against your skin, even his heart beat could be heard in the now quiet room. 

The muscles in your body felt like lead, warm lead flowing out over the bed. How you’d ever move again, you weren’t sure. Your eyes were impossible to open, the general’s body a heavy weight over half of you, he didn’t seem too keen on moving either, his breathing growing slow and steady. You both stayed still in the silence and the afterglow, not wishing to break the spell of Bona Dea. 

A few hours must’ve passed before he stirred again, the light outside the small window had changed. He lifted his head and looked around the room in confusion for a moment before he remembered where he was. The woman was still underneath him, half covered by his body. He could feel his soft cock still laying between her legs, he hadn’t even pulled out before he fell asleep. With curious eyes he regarded her now in sleep, a woman of his own age, beautiful with the features of someone of noble birth. Gently he trailed a finger across her soft cheek, carefully moving his weight from her. But his movement caused her to stir, blinking awake as he looked at her. 

“General,” she mumbled, sleep still clinging to her features, as she rolled over onto her side to face him. He held himself up over her, cupping her cheek with his hand, slowly caressing every line. 

“Morning approaches, I must go back to my men and explain my absence,” he said, “Domina, you have given me a night I will never forget.” 

“As have you, general,” she smiled in reply, “My cunt is still sticky and I believe I will feel this ache for days.” 

He chuckled at that, swiftly moving his hand down to cup her sex instead. 

“I wish I could stay and give you more nights,” he said, slipping a finger gently between her folds to feel his own seed still leaking out. She gasped as he brushed across her sensitive bud, letting his fingers caress it softly before he pulled away. 

Regretfully he shook his head, “But I’m expected in Rome and my army must march on.” 

“Come back next year, if you can,” she said, “Bona Dea will always welcome you into this house.” 

“If our emperor doesn’t send me away on another campaign, I will do my utmost to come back, carrisime.” 

The endearment fell from his lips with a soft smile and she pulled him down towards him, her lips finding his, tongues meeting again. She was warm, irresistible under his hands, he groaned and felt his cock twitch, somehow growing hard again. 

“Carrisime,” he whispered against her mouth, “I must go, but come find me if you’re in Rome.” 

“What is your name, optimus?” she smiled at him. 

“Marcus Acacius, domina. Come find me, let me taste that sweet cunt again.” 

“I will, Marcus, maybe I will leave my husband at home and come find my magnus concubinus.” 

Part Two

Tagging the lovely crowd from the preview post!

@angiewatson @i-own-loki @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @lady-bess @nerdieforpedro @legendary-pink-dot @musings-of-a-rose @for-a-longlongtime @oberynslady @chaoticfestninja @joelssapologist @mduluozz @jessthebaker @hellofeyradarling @pascalislove @flyingthroughheaven @criticalarchitecture @brittmb115 @dammit-hoechlin @li-anne @luly0607 @snow3096-blog @rainbowcat164 @suddendownpour @sherala007 @groovy-hippie-chick @grippysockedtoebeans @bonafideslacker @tupelomiss @rhiannon-girl @verge-of-tears-again @truffles-cat @jay-zzle @rav3n-pascal22 @chronically-ghosted @allaboutthebeskar @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @casa-boiardi

[poppitron360]

I’m trying to branch out from my usual angst by writing a happy(ish) fic.

Summary: Jason goes back to Camp Jupiter after the war and reveals that he and Leo are dating. He struggles so deal with the backlash from that while simultaneously having to cope with being long-distance.

CW: Swearing, Octavian

Word Count: 2,423

VALGRACE FANFICTION- “Fuck ‘em”

When Jason had announced to Camp Jupiter that he was seeing someone, he wasn’t sure what had been more appalling. That the someone in question was a boy, or that he was Greek.

Octavian had, of course, been outraged on both accounts: “We let a man like this become Praetor! He is fraternising with the enemy in a very un-Roman-like fashion!”

That’s what he called it. “Un-Roman”- like for some reason Jason was any less Roman because he was bisexual.

But it wasn’t just Octavian spouting bullshit. There was a shift in the way people acted under his command- they seemed less trusting, like Jason had become some foreign invader. Even though he had stepped down as Praetor and given his powers to Frank, he still held the newly-created title of “honorary Praetor”, alongside Percy, to commemorate all the work he had done defeating Gaia. People should still listen to him, respect him. But it was different now. His boyfriend was a Greek.

He didn’t dare tell them it was the same Greek that had fired on New Rome, albeit under the influence of evil spirits.

Some of them had been supportive, especially those in the fifth cohort. They were used to being outcasts.

“Children of Vul- I mean, Hephaestus, though?” His friend, Dakota, had said, “They’re good to have around. Large, beefy, big muscles. Good fit for a son of Jupiter like you.”

Jason laughed nervously, “Uh-huh. Yeah… large… muscles… right.”

Oh my gods, Praetor Grace had a twink. That was another thing he didn’t dare tell them. He let them imagine their leader with a powerful hunk for a boyfriend- at least that way he could keep some dignity.

He felt bad being embarrassed by Leo. He was awesome. He had a badass flying dragon. He told cool jokes and made Jason laugh. Jason was proud to call him his boyfriend. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself every morning. Then he’d step outside, and be faced with the weird looks and behind-the-hand whispers, and suddenly he didn’t feel so proud. He didn’t hold it against Leo, though. He loved how the kid acted so unapologetically himself- unlike Jason, who needed everyone to like him so much.

Jason didn’t care about the stares when he was with him. The asshole comments from Octavian seemed like distant memories when he looked into those big, dark eyes, complete with the playful little twinkle and mischievous smile. But when he was without Leo, he was a nervous wreck. The only thing that kept him going were Leo’s monthly visits. That was the one thing they couldn’t take away from him. He counted the days in his head to when he was gonna see him again. When Octavian was being shitty, he’d just think “twenty more days”, “ten more days”, “five more days”, “one more day”.

He met Leo and Festus outside the New Rome border. He picked the tiny guy up in his arms and twirled him around, and then kissed him. Leo’s skin was warm to the touch, like it always was when he was nervous.

“I missed you so much,” Jason whispered, although there was no-one around to overhear.

“I missed you too, Sparky. Camp isn’t the same without you.”

“Are they treating you well there? Anyone still giving you shit for your powers?”

“I’m fine Jason, everyone’s super nice,” Leo replied, although Jason could tell it was probably exaggerated. Not a lie- just a projection. What Jason wanted to hear. He decided not to call him out on it- Leo just didn’t want Jason to worry, that’s all.

“You’ve not been spending too much time in the workshop, I hope? Actually go outside once in a while.”

“I’m outside now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You worry too much,” Leo said, standing on his tiptoes to kiss him.

But Leo had worries of his own. They talked causally for a while, before Leo interrupted him with a question that Jason had been dreading.

“Why do you always ask me to meet you outside the border?” Leo asked.

Jason had a pre-planned response for this, “I just wanna keep you separate from my work. At Camp, I’m a leader. A soldier. Praetor Grace. With you, I can be myself. I can be Jason. I want it to stay that way.”

Leo’s eyes held so many different emotions, it was hard for Jason to tell what one was most prominent- sadness, resolution, hope- Jason had spent many hours searching those eyes for the secrets that they contained, and he still had not found them all. Leo sighed.

“They… they don’t know about me, do they?”

Jason hesitated- but he couldn’t lie to Leo.

“They know I’m dating a son of Hephaestus… they don’t know it was the same son of Hephaestus that fired on New Rome,” he admitted.

“You’re embarrassed.”

“No, I’m not!” Jason said, which wasn’t entirely true.

“You are! You’re worried about being seen with me! That’s why you meet me out here- you don’t want people to know you have a dangerous freak for a boyfriend. Praetor Grace and the scrappy little street rat he took pity on,” Leo looked down and kicked the dirt.

“I think you’re a pretty cute street rat,” Jason said, ruffling Leo’s messy, greasy hair. Then his smile turned serious, “Leo, I don’t want you to think that I think of you that way. I’m not embarrassed by you, it’s just…” he looked at the sky and sighed, “There’s a lot of expectations that I have to live up to. And when I’m with you I get to say “fuck ‘em”, but when I’m there…”

“Yeah, I get it,” Leo said. He looked up at Jason with those big, busy eyes- drawing ordinance survey maps of Jason’s face in his mind, “I really do, Jason. I understand feeling like you need to be someone else to get people to like you. I get it.”

Jason smiled and hugged him.

“We can stay like this. You don’t have to let me inside the border. We can just say “fuck ‘em” out here,” Leo mumbled, his voice muffled in the fabric of Jason’s hoodie.

“One day,” Jason assured him, “One day I wanna say “fuck ‘em” to their faces. There’s a really nice café in New Rome I wanna take you to.“

“But we don’t have to say “fuck ‘em” today.”

“No.”

His time with Leo came and went. Jason went back to his duties, to the stares and the whispers.

He sat on the lunch table with the rest of the fifth cohort, chatting idly about the local gossip.

“Heard we got some exchange students from Camp Half-Blood,” one of them remarked, “Because we’re doing that now, apparently.”

“They have all these freaky little behaviours- it’s not sitting right with the other cohorts.”

“Yeah, Greeks are weird,” Jason remarked, leaning back in his chair, “And I should know- I’m in love with one.”

The whole table went quiet. Jason seemed to realise what he’d just said.

“Oh,” was all he could manage in response.

Dakota broke the silence, “Man, I thought you were just his sugar daddy, I didn’t know you guys were actually in love!”

“I-I didn’t know either, ‘til I just said it,” Jason stuttered, still in shock, “But… yeah. Yeah, I love him.”

“So when do we get to meet him?” One of the other members of the fifth asked.

“Well,” Jason leaned forward, contemplating, “He comes to visit me every month. He’s coming again in thirteen days. I could…”

He looked around the dining hall. He took in the sneers as people caught his eye. The whispers and snickers and pointing. He realised that that would never change. As long as he was open about who he was, there would always be backlash. The only thing he could do was to not let it get to him. To say “fuck ‘em”. And as terrifying a prospect as that was, Jason was ready. He was ready to rise above the snide remarks and disrespect and yell “I’m in love with Leo Valdez!”

Because he was. He loved that tiny imp of a kid. He loved his loud mouth and weird quirks. He loved how Leo would hold his hand and tap out little morse code messages that Jason didn’t understand, but would speculate for days what they meant. He could look it up, or ask Annabeth, but he loved to fantasise.

Leo was leaning against Festus in their usual spot outside the border. When Jason saw him, he tackled him with such force that Leo’s hair caught fire in surprise. Luckily, Jason pulled away before it could burn him.

“You’re in a good mood,” Leo observed, patting out the flames on his head.

“Yeah, well… I’ve decided,” Jason told him, “I’m ready. I wanna take you inside the border.”

Leo stopped fussing with his hair and looked up at Jason, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Jason assured him, holding out his hand, “Come on!”

Leo grinned and took Jason’s hand. A little spark of electricity ran along Jason’s spine. He took off for the city, pulling Leo behind him. Leo was giggling in that cute way he did when he got exited and thought no-one could hear him. They ran like the wind- literally. As Jason yanked him along, he summoned the winds to push them faster, lifting them up into the air slightly. They were inside New Rome now, Jason dragging him through winding streets and bustling crowds. Jason felt truly free, running along with Leo. He was overjoyed. For once, he didn’t care about expectations or who he should be. They were just two kids having fun.

They stopped outside a sidewalk café with Romanesque architecture, like the rest of the city. There was one of those classic red-and-white-striped awnings over the front, and clusters of tables and chairs littered the pavement outside.

“Lunch?” Jason asked, turning to Leo, “They do paninis and toasted sandwiches.”

“I would kill for a panini right now.”

“What about drinks?”

“Diet coke?”

“Gods, no. You’re not having any more caffeine, Mr Hyper. I’ll get you a lime soda,” the conversation was dull and mundane, but Jason found it comforting. They had spent so much of their time together with the weight of the world resting on their shoulders. Now that that was finally over (and Jason rapped on the wooden café table at the thought, praying he wouldn’t jinx it), they could finally settle into a monotonous rhythm, like and old married couple.

Wow. That image took him by surprise- him and Leo growing old together- but it was a good sort of surprise. Jason didn’t push the thought away, instead, he let it wash over him, clinging to the notion that they had hope. A future in the making.

Lunch was going awesome- until Octavian showed up.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Praetor Grace- sorry, former Praetor Grace.”

“Honorary Praetor,” Jason corrected, not looking up from the menu he was reading, “Still ranked above you, Octavian, so a position you should treat with respect.”

Jason didn’t bother looking up to see Octavian’s reaction. He continued to ignore the kid, until he saw him turn to face Leo.

“Hey! Isn’t that the Greek Scum who destroyed half the city?!” He yelled, “Guards! Guards!”

“Octavian, no,” Jason commanded, looking him directly in the eyes, “I saw to it that Leo was pardoned. That incident was not through his actions.”

“It very much looked like it was through his actions, from where I was standing!” Octavian replied, angrily.

Jason stood up. He grabbed Leo’s hand, partially for reassurance, partially as a way of telling Octavian to suck on a cavalry sword- a way of saying “Fuck ‘em”.

“Oh… oh my gods! That is your little pet?!” He pointed at Leo like he was a disgusting patch of mould.

“Uh-huh. And what’re you gonna do about it, Octavian? Run and tell? I am fucking fine with everyone knowing. In fact-“ Jason leapt up onto the café table, still holding onto Leo’s hand, “Listen up, motherfuckers!”

“Jason, what’re you-“

Jason squeezed Leo’s hand to reassure him and Leo stopped protesting, but he still looked worried.

“I’m in love with Leo Valdez!” Jason yelled, “He’s tiny and Greek and he’s awesome. You motherfuckers might look down on him. You might think he’s dangerous, or that he’s a freak. But I see how awesome he is. And sweet. And badass. And cute. And funny. And none of you-“ he pointed a finger at the crowd of passers-by, who were giving him annoyed and disgruntled looks, “Get to say a fucking WORD against him!” He turned towards Octavian, looking down at him and jabbing a finger in his face, “Especially a slimy little piece of shit like you, Octavian.” Jason jumped down from the table, reclined in his seat, picked up the menu, and studied it with his glasses at the end of his nose much like how an old man would study a newspaper.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna enjoy lunch with my boyfriend.”

Octavian scoffed, and left.

“Jason…” Leo was staring at him with those eyes of many feelings. Jason counted wonder, shock, horror, pride, lust, reverence and a seventh emotion he couldn’t quite describe.

“I’m sorry if that was too… loud, Leo. I don’t wanna make you feel-“

“Y-You’re in love with me?”

“…Yeah. Yes. I am,” Jason searched for what emotion was the brightest in those eyes, but there were too many and it was too confusing. He could never pick just one, “Is it too soon? Should I have waited? Should I have asked you first before yelling it in the street-“

“No! No, it’s fine. It’s… amazing, actually. And I love you too, Jason, I really do.”

Jason squeezed Leo’s hand again. Now that Leo had said it, Jason saw the love surface above the mess of other feelings in those eyes. He saw it bud and bloom like blossoms in springtime across Leo’s fiery irises. He wanted to get lost in those meadows of brown and gold, and when Leo closed those eyes to lean in to kiss him, Jason was slightly crestfallen at the fact that he couldn’t keep staring at them. Soon, though, Leo’s lips were against his, and his disappointment melted away. He had plenty of time to stare into those eyes later. They had their whole future ahead of them, and nobody was gonna stand in their way.

[anotheroceanid]

Before I (try) to take a nap, here it is: the first part of the next chapter (that hopefully won't end up as long as the previous one)

JASON

JANUARY 2028

NEW ROME

Even before getting some ribs broken, Jason was having a rotten day.

He started the morning with news of an earthquake nearby. The earthquake in question reached one of their depots of food, which meant that now they were cut short for the upcoming months.

Rome’s crops were near unproductive, their livestock was scarce and prone to sickness. There hasn’t been rain in a long time. Not ever since Jupiter, Jason’s father, had cursed the Greeks with a drought and Neptune, Jason’s uncle, decided it was fit to impose the same upon Romans, avoiding any water from getting in the sky and retrenching their access to fresh water through his influence on the river gods. The past year, hundreds of people have died of hunger, disease and dehydration.

A few hours later, a letter from the Mexican front was delivered to him. The fauns advanced in their territory. The Roman army struggled to stop them. Multiple soldiers died in the attempt, and just as many were now wounded, some permanently.

The Fauns Rebellion shrunk Rome’s army every day, there was nothing they could do about it. After they signed the armistice with the Greeks, their only choice to fight against the Nature Spirits was to accept mortals’ enlistment. While their enemies in the East could be starved to death, nymphs could endure months with only sun and water. Fauns weren’t as resistant, but that didn’t matter because their Lord of the Wild always found ways to help them, even from afar.

Though crowned Emperor of Rome by his peers, Jason couldn't think of someone more powerless than himself.

Jason spent his morning writing a letter to the Greek cities begging for food. Because that was the only thing he could do for his people in these times of need.

He crumples up a piece of paper and throws it in the pile of discarded letters. Jason did it a thousand times, and yet, he can’t really find the proper words. He runs his fingers through his hair and his beard, takes off his glasses and presses his eyes together hoping it'll help the thoughts come clear.

Asking the Greeks for help is pathetic. Beyond stupid, Jason also feels guilt. If anything, he should be looking for ways to apologise. Not that it would be worthy anything. What's the point of apologising for something unforgivable? At most, he’d come out as weak to the Senate, and his enemies would use the opportunity to eat his liver.

Although Jason might’ve learned to live with remorse, his fellow Romans didn’t learn to leave with hunger. So, he picked another paper and started again. For every word he managed to write, Jason heard Annabeth of Perses telling him to go fuck himself. Well, better her saying such a thing than Piper, the thought made a shiver go down his spine. That woman creeped the soul out of his body, in a way not even the Vipera Graeca and her deadly poison could do.

Once he finishes his letter, Jason stares at it with a numbing acknowledgement that soon he won’t have to beg for food anymore. At any time, the war that decimated most of North America would restart. Rome would burn. With the Greeks courtesy, Jason would be alive to watch, surely. How else could he expect his debt to be paid? Though, Jason ponders, I might destroy Rome myself, will it be a favour or a slight for the Greeks?

The walls of New Rome were too thin to protect its citizens forever. How longer before truth would rushes in? How was Jason supposed to fight against it? For now, New Rome was safely unfamiliar to the horrors outside their gates. The people didn’t need to know everything. How, despite how bad things were in the city, it was much worse across the rest of the Roman Territory.

Jason’s job was to keep them ignorant. To try to get things better outside. Win the war against the Greeks.  He was bound to become thrice a failure. Only thrice? How optimistic.

For what felt like the thousandth of times, Jason begged the Greeks to feed his people so the day would come when the Greeks would have more than corpses from who to take revenge.

With this happy thought, Jason sends his letter.

Next things Jason does, is dig his face on his hands and moan loudly in absolute despair. What a way to start the year…

‘I can’t even say there isn’t any way this can get worse…’ Jason mumbled to himself.

His door was slammed open. Reyna arrived in a rush. ‘Octavian’s house was attacked!’

… Because of course, it can.

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 9

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: After your kiss with Roman last night, you rethink your decision and think of what the future could be like. You don't know if you made the best choices last night.

TW: verbal abuse, sexism

Word count: 4.2K

Notes: I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the chapter last night. I hope you like this one too :)

Chapter 9: Calm before the storm

You stayed with Roman for the night. The entire night consisted of you both drunkenly laughing, breaking it up with small kisses or make out session before finally going to bed. You laid next to him; your arms draped over his chest as he held you close to him. You laid your head on him partially, snuggling into his body. He left kisses every so often until he had fallen asleep. It was nice. It felt like the kind of intimacy you wanted for a while. No expectations. Just soft affection.

And this is exactly what Roman was looking for. Something exactly like this. Someone to be comfortable enough in this setting. He knew he’d eventually disappoint, but for now, he wanted to keep this moment still. He was glad he finally made the first move. But when he woke up, he found you gone. He looked around, not seeing any evidence you were here. He left the bed, looking in the bathroom. Not there either. He quickly pulled his phone texting you to see where you were.

You woke up early enough to see Roman was still asleep. He looked so beautiful. Peaceful even. You’ve never seen him so relaxed and content. It was the only time he didn’t need to stress out. But you knew you had to get out of there. You couldn’t be here for too long. You got up, grabbing your bag and shoes and leaving the room as quick as possible. Whatever happened last night was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. It was just wrong. Roman was emotional. You both were getting drunk and, fuck, he’s your boss. You couldn’t do that. You and Roman were never supposed to happen. He was not the person you’d ever want to be romantically involved with. It was extremely wrong. It wasn’t meant to happen.

After getting ready for your day back to New York, you saw your phone buzzing. You sighed, texting him back out of curtesy.

‘im in my room.’

‘can you come back?’ Roman texted immediately.

You sigh, shutting your phone. You grabbed your stuff before going back to the room you had just left an hour ago.

Once the door opened, Roman shut it for you. He cupped your cheeks, leaning to kiss you again. He needed to. He missed feeling your lips on his. He needed you badly. You moved your head away, shaking your head.

Roman pulled away, hurt and confused. “What’s wrong?” His panic set in. He felt as though he was being punished for something he didn’t even know he did wrong. He thought you wanted him back. That why you kissed him back last night. You were practically fucking him through your clothes. Nothing went as far as just childish grinding and kissing, but he didn’t think you’d be so quick reject him after the night before.

“Rome-last night-uh fuck- it was a mistake. We should’ve just- y’know…” You tried to keep it at a level of professionalism. You knew he wasn’t going to want to give it up, but it had to be done.

“No-no it wasn’t a mistake.” Roman tried to debate your point, grabbing your arms. He was practically ready to get on his knees to beg you, as if he was a kid asking for his parents to play with him. “Just- fuck come on y/n…” He seemed desperate. He wanted to argue, but he felt so pathetic having to beg you to love him the way you did last night. “Just-please.” He started to beg.

You let in a deep breathe, before finally exhaling. You couldn’t bare to even look at him. It was hard, but it was what was best for the both of you. It’s not like this would ever last. This was just sexual attraction. It was only on the bases of comfort. If you weren’t around him constantly, you’d find him repulsive. Vice versa going for Roman. You both didn’t even align ideally. Roman did whatever his dad believed. They had no real moral. You’d bump heads all the time if you actually had to have deeper conversations with him. Not to even mention Jess, you promised not to get involved with him in this way. Not even the also mention that he literally writes and pays your checks. Every week. 4,500 a week. You couldn’t lose this job over some office romance. Who knew if this was just a passing feeling for Roman. He just might want something to distract him from what happened at dinner. His ego was bruised last night and kissing you was an ego boost. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.

“Roman, seriously. This was wrong. I didn’t mean anything of it. I was just drunk.” You lied. You weren’t entirely drunk. You still had a sense of what you were doing. But also, you wanted him just as bad. You needed him practically.

You might as well have just stabbed him in the chest. He stood there, trying to think of something else to manipulate you into giving him affection again. But he couldn’t. His panic thoughts clouded his mind that he didn’t have the energy anymore.

“Alright. Uh- well. Fucking-just…” He pulled away from you, walking to the other side of the room to grab something to distract him from what was happening right now. “Alright I guess.” He mumbled to himself. He started to get ready for the breakfast. He couldn’t even look at you.  “What is it though? That you regret so much about it? Am I just-am I not fucking whatever the fuck you like?” Anger finally coming into play of Romans emotions. He couldn’t handle all the emotions that were rushing through him, so he picked whatever came first. All the things people have told him were at the front of his mind. Reminding him of all of his weirdness. How he wasn’t smart enough. How he was childish. That he was odd looking. He was short. He talked weird. He was a moron. Everything.

Your eyes had pity in them as he just started to bombard you with such heavy questions. You didn’t want to hurt him any further than you had to, but it had to be done. You knew this was not going to go well for the both of you. “Please don’t do this Roman.” You begged, but he just wouldn’t let it go.

“No- come on. What the fuck is so wrong with me? Huh? Cause apparently everyone fucking does. Including you. So what is it? Huh?” He let his mouth run without a second thought. Barely even the first thought were coming through entirely.

“We just can’t!” You were trying to get it through his head. He let out air shoot out through his teeth, calling on your bullshit. “Roman, can you fucking relax? I don’t want this. This was just as a big mistake for you than it was for me.” Roman interrupted “Bull-fucking shit.”

“You are not emotionally ready. You and I wouldn’t work. Also come on! You were fucking upset about possibly losing CEO to Shiv and- “You tried to reason with him but before you could even finish what you wanted to say Roman cut you off.

“So that’s why you kissed me? Because you felt sorry for me?” He couldn’t believe it. “God you’re a fucking bitch.” He laughed to himself out of pure annoyance. “Get the fuck out.” He told you as calm as his rage and emotional body could give. He pointed at the door, but you didn’t think you should. You wanted to explain, but Roman was not in the right headspace to even have an adult conversation.  You turned around to open the door before Roman landed one more insult at you. “Fucking pathetic bitch.” He spat out. You shut your eyes, trying to take a breath, but your anger got the best of you.

“You’re just annoyed I won’t fuck you. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking suck up with no actual thoughts of his own, your dad would make you CEO.” You said before leaving the door, slamming the door shut.

Roman stood there, alone. He just looked at where you stood before leaving him behind. He ruined it. He completely fucked up something good.

You rushed down the hall before going to your room. You wanted to just scream, but there was barely any privacy around with the amount of people were in the house. You couldn’t even tell Jess. You knew she’d be pissed. She wouldn’t even hear you out. You weren’t sure where to go next from here. Whatever was there, that friendship, the professionalism, gone. All cause Roman couldn’t keep his comments to himself, you neither.

You paced around, shaking your hands as a way to calm yourself down and you took deep breaths. Roman was going to have to fire you. Fuck, you might even need to quit. And Roman was going to blacklist you or something. You didn’t know where to go from here. I mean- it was the fucking Roy’s! They were all vindictive assholes. Roman tries to ruin his siblings, why wouldn’t he try to ruin your life too? You were just some girl who didn’t give him what he wanted.

Jess sent you texts, wondering where you and Roman were. Logan was meeting with Nan with the other kids and Nan’s closest members. You both had missed breakfast. And now Roman was missing this big meeting. All over a stupid kiss.

‘Sorry I woke up late and Roman was still asleep.’ You lied. Fuck. You needed to get him out of his room. You returned to the room, knocking before coming in. Roman was gone though. Fuck. You roamed around, looking for him. You headed to the common area, seeing Roman talking to Gerri. You had no idea why, but you were scared to find out. Despite being worried about your job, a large part of you didn’t care. Roman had been so awful to you over something so minor. You didn’t know if you were willing to ever work with him if he was going to treat you this way. You didn’t need that in your life again. The berating. The insults. The blaming. All because you weren’t willing to allow something they wanted from you. You had dealt with it for too long and had tried to learn to not accept that kind of thing to ever again.

Jess found you though. You couldn’t look at her directly though. You felt guilty for even lying to her. That’s practically what you did just by looking at her.

“You alright?” She asked you, her hand placed on your arm. You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Yea- might get fired. Roman had a temper tantrum.” You dumbed down the situation. Jess’ face dropped, rubbing your arm to comfort you. “Kendall was the same way. Don’t stress. Here. Let’s go out for a walk.” She suggested. But before you both could, Logan stormed out of the meeting. The deal didn’t go through. Nan wasn’t willing to be bought out for what they had suggested. She thought they deserved more. Logan basically ordered for everyone to leave. We had listened of course. You refused to be with Roman though. You needed your space. You just rode with Connor, Willa, Jess and everyone else that was associated close enough with the family. But the Roy’s and Gerri left together. Once you landed though, Logans demeaner changed. I guess Nan thought they were bluffing and decided to go with the deal while they were flying. They had made the deal after all. And Roman was once again left out.

Everyone piled in a car, Kendall moving over for a seat for you, but Roman shut the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” Kendall asked him, annoyed. He opened the door, telling you to come in, putting his arm and leg in place for Roman not to shut the door. You kindly declined, but Kendall kept insisting. “We won’t leave without you. Come on. There’s no room in the other car.” He shouted. There was. But the third car was only for Logan and Marcia. You sighed before stepping into the car.  Roman put his sunglasses on, not wanting to be seen from you or others. But it drew more attention to himself. He just didn’t want to see the pity looks from you and the scolding ones from Kendall as clear. “Dude take that shit off.” Kendall warned Roman.

“Shut the fuck up.” Roman replied. He was too exhausted and emotionally drained to come up with something smart. “Oh, fucking look at me. I’m Kendall. I try to boss everyone around for the same stupid shit I do.” Roman mimicked. Kendall rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore him.

“Jeez what fucking crawled up your ass today?” Shiv teased. You stayed quiet, feeling tense around Roman. You didn’t want him to out your secret to the car. And you definitely didn’t want to deal with his juvenile behavior either.

“Why the fuck do you care? I’m wearing sunglasses! Why the fuck do you give a shit?” He snapped. “Just- fuck.” He whispered, looking out the window. Tom put his hand over Shiv’s thigh, warning her to just leave him be. Shiv was just amused to even get this kind of reaction out of Roman. “Y/n can you fucking fix my idiotic brother?” She started to try to annoy him even more. “She seems to know his fucking reset button.” She crossed her arms across her chest, laying back in the car.

“Uh- I tried already.” You shrugged, speaking lowly. Jess looked at you concerned. You weren’t doing so alright honestly. It stung. Romans’ behavior brought too many memories back. A lot of old emotions that you hadn’t felt in a while.  

Shiv put her hands up in defense, putting them down immediately after. We drove down the East side of Manhattan, planning to drop Jess and Kendall off at his house, so he can go to meetings he had set up for the day and get ready for them. As for Roman, Shiv and Tom, they were going home. You didn’t schedule anything for Roman. Only on the basis of not even knowing where you even stood. Unfortunate for you, you couldn’t go with them. You asked, texting Jess privately. She asked Kendall, but Kendall was too busy. He didn’t see why you needed to be there.

They left the car, leaving Roman, Shiv and Tom right in front of you. Roman refused to move to sit near you. He was as far as possible from you. What a child? Shiv moved over to finally have some more space. “Jeez, fucking child.” She whispered. The car was way too quiet. You’ve never spoken to Shiv and the only time you’ve spoken to Tom was at the dinner.

“Uh- by the way, I hope you didn’t take anything of offense last night.” Tom started. “Uh- it’s just politics. I hope you didn’t- “He tried to find the word. You shook your head and tried to give him a smile that assured him you weren’t mad. “No- don’t worry. I wasn’t. Everyone has their own views about stuff like that.” You tried to assure him. He let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, causing Shiv to smile to herself. Despite how they might be, Shiv did truly love Tom. She just had a hard time expressing it. But certain things he did made me smile. She was content. Even if they didn’t always get along.

“Well- good. If you’re going to be here for as long as Jess, I wanted to- “Tom was cut off by Roman. “She won’t be.” He said loud enough for them to understand him. He hadn’t been this quiet in a while.

That was low. It was almost as if he tried to slice you back for hurting him as badly as you did. You looked away, trying to hide how upset it actually made you. Your eyes welded up, but you wiped your cheeks as soon as a tear left your eyes. You did not want this to be your first conversation with Shiv.

Shiv looked at the two of you, her eyebrows raised, feeling as though they just involved themselves in something they shouldn’t have. “Oh, come on Rome.” Shiv tried to reason. Despite not knowing you, she saw how Roman has actually been changing for the better since you started to work there. “What happened to me being jealous of you because of her?” She tried to rationalize.

Roman shrugged, asking the driver how much longer till they got to his place. “Cause she fucking sucks at her job.”

“Am I bad at my job or are you just too fucking stupid and conceded?” You finally snapped back at Romans abuse. You stayed quiet since you left his room, but you couldn’t let him embarrass you in front of other people like that.

“Woah- what the fuck happened?” Shiv asked, put herself in between the two of you in case it got too heated. Roman looked at you, testing to see if you were willing to tell them. You weren’t. He shook his head, looking out the window. Roman took it as if you were embarrassed about what you did. You did tell him that. But it wasn’t true. You gave him most of your reasons, but he had to cut you off.

“I overpay stupid post college girls, essentially.” Roman dumbed you down. Shiv gave him a look, telling him to quit his insults.

“Hey, be fucking glad she even was there yesterday. She essentially made you look like a saint with Nan. Plus I know you didn’t read that fucking book Rome, you can barely read a text.” She made a point. “If Nan comes and doesn’t see her, despite all that ‘we’re family’ bullshit, she’s gonna drop out of the deal. Give her some credit Rome.” She made a point.

Nan adored you. And you made the Roy’s look more likeable. Their digs at each other came off friendly because you played it off as ‘family’ jokes. And you made an impression that they let you in. If you were to be fired, it’d make her question how they actually treated family. She’d probably reassess the deal.

“You can’t fire her Rome. She can’t quit either. This deal is too important to dad.” She tried to make him talk, but he wasn’t listening to a single thing she said. “She only likes her because they both have the same part between their legs. Same with you Shiv. You think Nan thinks you’re actually qualified? Or that you’re what the company needs? No. She’s just a believe all women old wench.” Roman tried to hurt Shiv now. No one was safe from Roman’s cruelty.

“Just cause you aren’t likeable doesn’t mean we aren’t.” You fired at him. “The only clients that actually deal with you are fucking ex frat bros who date rape women.” “And what do you do exactly? Get me fucking coffees all day? Read my emails? Stop acting like your job has any fucking meaning other than being an Uber Eats driver and a fucking secretary.” Roman was in the defense. The car stopped and Roman got out of the car quickly, slamming the door hard enough to shake the car a bit.

You looked up, your lips naturally curving into a pout. Your eyes welled up with tears once again, but this time you couldn’t hide it. Shiv looked at Tom, wondering what they could do to help you out. They did genuinely enjoy you. You made Roman work harder. He actually had been jumpier and less of a nuisance since you had started. Shiv put an arm around you, bringing you into her chest so you can hide your face and cry. You felt humiliated.

“If you’re alright to say it, whatever happened can stay between the three of us.” She offered. But you weren’t sure if that was true. You were so alone in this situation. You just shook your head no and she just nodded and tried to get you to stop crying.

You pulled yourself together, wiping your face quickly. You looked down at your phone seeing Roman text you. ‘come in tomorrow to sign off on your termination’

Shiv saw, laughing in complete annoyance of her brother. She knew this was all what Roman wanted. He wanted a reaction out of you. He did this constantly. It was just another way of getting some kind of attention. Realistically this was just going to be a back and forth for a while. But never actually a termination. And once Roman had found another thing to move on from, he’d slowly be nicer. They unfortunately had to leave, but Shiv gave you her number in case you were okay to talk to her.

You were driven home, but once you got to your apartment, you had a complete meltdown. You screamed, cried, threw things. Whatever helped you get your emotions out somehow. Your cheeks ended up even burning from wiping your face so much and all the salty tears. A lot of bad memories were brought up. A lot of past traumas. All of the berating and abuse your family had put you through. It was how it was being around Roman that day. You were right. They did treat you like family. Because as far as you’re concerned family treated you like utter garbage. Useless. Stupid. You thought you actually could’ve had some comfort with the Roy’s.

You eventually fell asleep early from the exhaustion. You could barely get up from bed. You had no energy in you to move. But after lying there, you knew you had to eventually go to work. Even if it was your last day. You got ready and were off to the last day at Waystar. You didn’t bother really spending too much time on notes. You booked Romans schedule out of pure pettiness. Everyone who had been trying to set up a meeting, you had him running around to do so. You walked into work, seeing Roman talking to Gerri once again. Gerri had seemed to be reprimanding him. He tried to explain, but Gerri was careful to explain her views of the story. Roman had apparently confided in Gerri about that night and morning. She agreed on certain things with Roman. You had been harsh, and you should have not kissed him back, but what’s done is done. You made mistakes, but Roman had gone too far multiple times. You might’ve crossed a line, but he crossed multiple. Gerri tried to tell him he had no legal standing to fire you. It could end in a lawsuit if you decided to take it to the court. You could frame it bad enough. But Waystar had good lawyers and ways of making people stay quiet, but Gerri liked you. She couldn’t see something good walk away so quickly. Roman actually did his work. Gerri was always routing for Roman, but he never had any motivation. Gerri knew he was smart and actually had potential, but he ruined it for himself. You just waited in Romans office, sending his schedule to his phone.

Gerri tried to talk him into apologizing for certain things, but Roman wouldn’t budge. Gerri just told him to suck it up and play the waiting game. Who know? Maybe you might just quit. He was disappointed to say the least. Shiv had seen you, waiting for Roman and walked in.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She asked, sitting across from you. You shrugged and tried your best to give her a genuine enough smile, but it just came off as sad.

“I’m alright. I’m just here to make sure Roman does his work.” You shrugged it off. She nodded, exhaling. “Well, I wanted to invite you as my guest to dad’s celebration dinner tonight. Please try to make it. Marcia made sure to tell the chef already about your diet.” She giggled, standing up. She put a hand on your shoulder. She was so much kinder than you had ever seen her to be. When Shiv wasn’t being pushed by other or competing with them, she could actually be very kind.

“After you’re done with Roman, you could come with me, and we could just talk or spend some time together. Despite what Roman says, he isn’t going to go through with anything.” She assured you before getting ready to leave you.

Roman came in, looking at the two of you. “Why the fuck are you in here?” He asked Shiv, sitting at his desk. “None of your fucking business Roman.” Shiv said in a condescending tone, before finally leaving you behind. He flipped her off as she walked away. He went onto his phone to see your notes of what was left to do. “Where’s my termination papers?” You asked. Roman stayed silent. He did for the rest of the day. He had barely even said a word to you.

Notes: Sorry, this story is gonna have a lot of emotions. But at least we got bestie Shiv.

Chapter 10

[fetusharryluvr]

wedding planning gone wrong

in which everything goes tits up, y/n is upset, and harry comforts her…

4 months ago to the day, you became Harry’s fiancée. It was the best night of your life, so far. You still remember it as though it were yesterday. He whisked the both of you away to Italy for the weekend, a place you both loved with your whole hearts. Then, during a moonlit dinner in Rome, he went down in one knee, and of course you said ‘yes’ before he could even finish his sentence. It was perfect, just you, Harry, and the stars.

The two of you had been stuck in your own little husband-and-wife-to-be bubble ever since. One thing you and Harry never understood was how people could wait 2 or more years to get married. Your love for eachother was endless, you didn’t want to wait.

You began planning almost immediately. He adored seeing how happy and in your element you were. Most nights he would come home to you cozied up on the sofa with your laptop, asking him questions like “Magnolia or ivory centrepieces?”

Harry himself couldn’t tell the difference, but somehow he’d always give you the right answer.

Tonight was exactly the same. Or so Harry expected. “Hey, wifey. ‘M home.” He called out out as he locked the front door, a nickname he had given you from the moment you accepted his proposal.

He waltzed into the he living room with a wide smile on his face. It’d been a long day at the studio, and all he was looking forward to was cuddling up with you and hearing about what new ideas you had for the wedding.

Except, this time when he walked into the living room, he was greeted with the hushed sound of your crying. His face fell when he saw you curled up under a blanket with flushed cheeks, and your swollen, bloodshot eyes. “Love?” He cooed, immediately sitting down on the sofa beside you, taking your hands in his, “What’s the matter?”

“It’s all ruined, H.” You sniffled.

He didn’t understand. “What is? What’s ruined?”

You frowned. He brought his hand up to your face, ruining it along your cheek and pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “The wedding. I got a call from t’ venue this mornin’. They said there was a double booking and it turns out, the other couple have a famous photographer, so the hotel picked them over us ‘cause it’s ‘better publicity.’” Seeing how upset you were just made Harry even more sad. “An’ then I went back to the dress shop for a final fitting and when the lady was zippin’ it up, she ripped the dress. S’ now we’ve got no dress and no venue.”

Harry brought you closer to him, allowing you to sob into his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. It’s okay, we can fix this.” He hated to see you cry. He knew how much this meant to you, how excited you were. How you’d had your wedding all planned out since before you knew Harry even existed. He sighed into your hair, pulling away and holding your cheeks. “Y/N, love, look at me. I love you so fucking much. I would move heaven and earth for you, y’know that. I will try and fix this for us. And if I can’t, then I don’t care. I would marry you in our bedroom wearing your bloody pyjamas if it meant getting to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You felt yourself beginning to well up again as you stared at him, his hands warming up your cheeks, “Really?” You asked, unsure.

He looked back at you, speaking in a soft, sincere tone that told you all you needed to know. “Of course. We don’t need a big, fancy, expensive party to prove that we love eachother. I want a marriage, not a wedding. I just want you, and everything that comes with you.”

That. That was exactly why you wanted to marry Harry. He didn’t care for what other people thought, he loved you and that was all that mattered. And he was right, you didn’t need a huge, look-how-much-money-we-have wedding, all you needed was eachother.

That night, you spent it cuddled up on the couch, making love with your fiancé, watching your favourite romcoms, and googling the nearest registry offices. The planning may have gone tits up, but you and Harry were going to have the best wedding ever.

[richeeduvie]

Corny wanting but how would Roman and Lalo react if Baby/Princesa woke him up in the middle of the night because they had a nightmare.

Kinda can see Lalo teasing her first but eventually calming her down and getting her back to sleep.

Roman……Roman is the one that I’m not really sure about

Lalo's teasing the shit out of her.

"Stop laughing. Please."

"Ay, Princesa - I'm sorry." He's not. Not really, but he goes to cuddle her. To wrap his arms, strong and pulsing around her frame. Make his girl feel like she can't go anywhere. Cause it seems like she wants to squirm away from him, so embarrassed. But of course he was going to laugh, and of course she was going to wake him up, cause Princesa needs Lalo. "You're just funny. My funny girl-hey, stop trying to run away from me."

Princesa whines, but eventually slumps in Lalo's arms. "It was just...they haven't been that terrifying in awhile."

Lalo's smile comes down softly, his face in her neck.

"It's alright, Princesa. They're just dreams. And you've got no one here but me to protect you from that head of yours. You're all good, hm?"

"...I think so."

Lalo breathes her in, hugs her a little tighter - taking bits of air out of her. He'd take everything from Princesa if it meant that she could be with him here, just here forever. That'd be right for him.

He smooches Princesa's cheek.

"I think you know so, now let's get you back to sleep."

"Okay."

And so they do, or she does, at least.

"Lalo."

Lalo laughs against her skin instead.

"I'm sorry - you just know how to be cute, poking me awake. First time I was gonna sleep through the night too."

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't have to be sorry, Princesa. I'm just saying, the one thing you know is how to be needy. Why is that something to cry about?"

"It's not something to laugh about."

Lalo's smile drops quick. Princesa is tired, so she's grumpy. She mms when he pinches her shoulder.

"Go to bed before you get even more of an attitude."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Roman's less...kind, to put it kindly.

"...You woke me up so what...I can eat you out?"

"Rome, I just need someone to sit with me. I've never had a dream like that."

"I'm gonna be fucking tired and pissy and you woke me up to wallow in the aftermath of your nightmare? Are we not gonna fuck?"

Baby's sitting crisscross-applesauce. She tilts her head and sighs softly. Roman rubs his eyes like a child as he sits up against the headboard.

"No love-making and you having a nightmare? Did you take something because this behavior is not you behavior."

"I think watching people get brutalized killed my libido for tonight. But...it was a lot."

Roman pffts. "Cause dead people with their meaty insides out definitely is the thing to kill it for you. We've roleplayed worse."

"You almost had a panic attack when I suggested bloodplay."

His eyes widen, then shrink to a glare - immediate defense and childish anger. "Because-that's fucking gross! It's keep people in a well and skin the bottom of their feet behavior! That's not hot! Not the right type of hot and it made me fucking concerned you were fucking Richard Ramirez behind my back."

"You and I were talking about trying new thing-"

"I meant like...a new strap-"

"I'm the one who had a terrifying night terror, Rome! Can you please just...comfort me?"

Roman blinks as the silence grows, as the ask becomes soft and small on Baby's face. He looks down to the blanket.

The way she asks beats at his chest like it hurts. It does. She's asked it like he's never comforted her before, like he's not good at it in general. He can. And he really doesn't want her to have dreams of dismembered people. He doesn't want her to become joyless, she needs to always be happy. The way he exists depends on how happy she is and how she's in the mood to love him. And not just him, he guess. Her job, and his family.

Roman presses his face into her shoulder, arm reaching across her chest to her bicep. He brings Baby down with force.

"Go to bed, people with axes can fuck off because I have you. You're supposed to feel better when I have you like this."

Baby blinks before she takes a moment to settle. She smiles, fingers pressing a curling touch onto Roman.

"Goodnight, Rome."

[rorimoon9597]

!Spoilers for Chalice of the Gods!

I read Chalice of the Gods and I gotta say, I loved it so much. There's just so much I want to talk about, so spoilers for those who haven't read it yet, bc I'm about to geek out over how the characters are portrayed.

Firstly, Percy. He's a veteran from TWO different wars, and the only reason why he wants to go to New Rome is because he knows that he'll be safe there, and that he can have a family with Annabeth if they live there. That's all he wants. To be safe with those that he loves, and to live his life to the fullest. New Rome is the best place for that.

He actively says that it's a nice chance of pace when he can just sleep in his room, not having to worry about his mother getting hurt by an asshole in the middle of the night. He likes being able to spend time with his family, to not have to worry about survival. He likes to feel safe.

Which is why I love how he's shown to be so tired of running around, out on quests for the gods. It's only natural for someone to want to get away from something that's the basis of their trauma, but Percy can't get away from it. He knows that.

He's also very disgusted about how Ganymede is treated, that much is clear. He decides, from looking at how Ganymede is treated by the other gods, that he made the right choice in turning down immortality. At the time, it was for a girl who he wasn't even dating yet. In COTG, he sticks to that because he does not want to leave that same girl, but also because he doesn't see immortality as a gift, but rather a curse. He's seen how it affects the gods, who think that they are all so high and mighty. There are exceptions, sure, but you gotta admit that most of the gods are narcissists.

Zeus is the largest narcissist in the entire book. He's the reason why Ganymede is scared of eagles, which are his sacred animal. He doesn't care for how Ganymede feels. He just cares about having eye candy to oogle whenever the fuck he feels like it. I think that the brunch scene, where Percy's hiding on a pastry cart and is subjected to Zeus' story of when he was younger and all alone when his siblings were stuck inside of Kronos' stomach is a very clear sign of that. He's playing it up, trying to get pity points or something, but all he's doing is annoying everyone else.

To be honest, I love how Rick showed the Big Three. We have Zeus, an obvious airhead who is narcissistic, which fits with his whole thing of being the sky god. Poseidon is much calmer than Zeus, not narcissistic like his younger brother. He reflects the nature of the sea - often unpredictable, going from gentle waves that are perfect to swim in to towering waves meant to kill. Poseidon is more fun, more caring, yet still easily angered (I think that the main reason why he was saved from being killed in one of the books is because Poseidon clearly cares about his child, and will go bat-shit crazy if he was murdered). He cares about Percy, even if he can't show it. He always watched over his son, and will continue to do so as Percy breathes.

Hades is probably one of my favorite gods out of the Big Three (I only really hate Zeus though, so that probably explains it) because, like his brothers, he reflects his domain. Sure, he's dark and gloomy, but he's more grounded than his brothers are. He doesn't kidnap pretty mortals like Zeus and he's definitely that guy who gets consent before sleeping with someone (his relationship with Nico and Bianca's mother is too strong to be something born from anything but consent, because she is shown to actually love Hades to some degree. He's not someone who does things like have children with mortal women without their permission.)

Some people say that the book is cringey, that it's not as good as Rick's other books. Those other books are about a kid thrust into war too young, his childhood ripped away from him the moment he's born. This one is about a teenager who is dealing with the after-effects of that, trying to navigate life as normally as possible when it's insanely impossible when he's a demigod. All Percy wants is peace, to live with Annabeth and grow old with her and Grover. That's why Rick wrote it. As an aspiring author myself, I can appreciate the beauty of a story where all the main character wants is to rest from a traumatic life.

Remember that this is my opinion, and that you're all free to have your own. I'd actually love to hear what you guys think of it.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

I am meant to be studying but I am currently unable to lmao, so you get more prompts!!

37. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.” 49. “Give me a week. A week, and I’ll be back to normal. A week, and I’ll… I’ll be over you. Just a week and you’ll have the old me back. It’s that easy, I promise.”

Thoughts/ideas: Adam feels himself falling for Lucifer, and gets progressively more obsessed with him. He hates himself for it, and when Lucifer confronts him about him acting weird, he promises he'll stop, that he just needs to get over it so they can go back to being frenemies! Luci of course tries to stop that from happening, because he loves how much Adam loves him (and loves him back).

I know I always give the angst to Adam, but I can't help it! He's my favourite and I must torture him!

Indigo :P

Oou interesting!

Adam didn't know when he started practically stalking Lucifer around the fucking hotel, but he had.

He was listening for his footsteps, when they sat together he would be sure to sit right beside him. He hung off his every word and soaked it up like a sponge.

This behaviour was even freaking Adam out, he knew he liked Lucifer but he didn't think he'd become so obsessed with the king.

It also apparently didn't go unnoticed.

Today Lucifer needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with Adam. Don't get him wrong, he enjoyed the attention. But this was so out of character he had to ask. "Tell me what's going on with you."

"What do you mean?" Adam tried to play dumb. He didn't want his new found feelings to ruin the weird 'friendship' they had. Frenemies was more accurate.

"You've been acting weird lately, what is it?"

"Nothing! Mind your own business." Adam tried to leave but Lucifer wouldn't let him, blocking the way. Adam sighed, well fuck. "Just, fuck I don't know how to say it." His face felt warm. He hadn't felt this way about someone since Eve.

"It's okay, take your time." They had time.

Adam fidgeted where he stood. "Give me a week. A week and I'll be back to normal, okay? A week and I'll..... I'll be over you." That last part came out just above a whisper. "One week and you'll have the old me back. It's that easy I promise."

Lucifer only looked at him. Over him? Did that mean.... Did he have feelings too? Lucifer has been in love with Adam since Eden, it was a hard choice between him and Lilith one he regrets to this day. Charlie was the only good that came from that relationship. "Adam do you have feelings for me?" Might as well be blunt.

Adam flinched shrinking in on himself. Was he that obvious? He didn't answer, couldn't. It would hurt too much. "Not like it matters."

"Of course it does."

"It didn't matter then."

Oh. Lucifer swallowed he had to be careful. "I'm sorry I couldn't be that person for you back then. In the garden when you needed me most. It was a dick move." Lucifer took Adams hands. Adam looked at him with apprehension. "I can be that person now. The person you deserve. Have always deserved."

"If this is a trick I'll fucking kill you."

"No tricks here! I mean it Adam, I want to give us a chance. Like I should have from the beginning." He rubbed his thumb over the top of Adams hand.

"Maybe. It'll take a bit."

"Rome wasn't built in a day."

Adam smiled. Yeah, maybe it would be okay.

[erosjournal]

‧₊˚໒꒱ stay cool it's just a kiss, oh why you gotta be so talkative... pt.2

────────────────────────────────────────────

~ characters : leo valdez x jason grace

~ synopsis : jason, who was at that time helping out at camp jupiter, invited leo to catch up at a coffee shop. but after a while, jason got tired of leo chatting away. so he shut him up. with a kiss. he avoided him for a while, as long as he could. he wasn't ready to come to terms with his feelings. but leo couldn't shut up about it.

~ tw(s): gays? cursing!! (please note i am slowly reading through hoo! also, please read part one first, which you can find here!)

────────────────────────────────────────────

jason was now off in the woods. yes, he wasn't supposed to be here, but he thought it was safe. away from leo. now, he didn't want to exactly be away from leo, but he didn't want to talk about what had happened either. it was all too much. his talk with piper helped a little, but it still made him mostly confused.

he walked around the woods, rethinking everything. he made a list.

what he knew:

he liked girls, at least in the past he did

he hadn't liked the thought of leo being with calypso

he thought leo looked nice

he liked kissing leo

he thought leo had soft lips.

he-

he shook his head, trying to stop lingering on the idea of liking what had happened.

ok so, that was established. he wanted to kiss leo again. but... why? he's not gay, or bi, right? at least he didn't think so. gods, why was he struggling so much?

"ugh, fuck you" jason grumbled, as if leo was there in front of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"leo, where were you?" nyssa asked, working away at some project the cabin had started. it was hot in the bunker, the smell of metal and sparks fluttered in the air. leo walked in, laughing sheepishly. it was now darker out. And he didn't know if he should tell her. if he could tell her. she frowned, crossing her arms.

"come on, spit it out." she said. she could tell something was up, and wanted to hear it.

"well..." leo started, blushing slightly as he spoke. "jason sorta... kissed me? and i was talking with piper about it-" he answered, before all of the hephaestus cabin gasped. they had all paused, looking at him.

"what?" "when?" "why?" questions filled the air. they weren't gossipers, like the aphrodite cabin, but were always interested in what was going on in the lives of their fellow siblings. leo leaned up against a table, surprised. he hadn't wanted this many people to know. well, it was out of the bag. what could he do now?

"hmm, it started this morning..." leo explained, his siblings listening as they continued to work through out the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"WHAT?" jason yelled over the phone. piper winced.

"yeah... um... most of the kids over here have heard about your guys's... incident." she explained, feeling bad about being the deliverer of bad news.

jason was in new rome, and was out for a walk around the college campus. heck, he wasn't even in college yet, but he wanted to be away from his friends at camp. he didn't want them to know about his... kiss. it wasn't even a big deal. but...

"wait, wait, wait.." he stuttered, his hand shaking slightly. "so.. how many is 'most'?" he pleaded. he hadn't wanted others to know. of course, leo couldn't just keep his mouth shut.

"um... well, the hephaestus cabin first found out.. then they told others, spreading it to the aphrodite cabin, then..." piper lingered. they both knew what that meant. everyone knew. jason tried to steady his breathing, biting his lip.

"ok, um, thanks for the update pipes." he glumly said, and shut off the call without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

piper was fed up with these two boys who were mad at each other but obviously in love. she decided to take matters into her own hands.

with the power of aphrodite and charmspeaking, a little push couldn't hurt, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"hey pipes, you wanted to talk?" leo's head popped in through the door, smiling that devilish grin. piper looked up and smiled. she breathed deeply, hoping her plan would work.

"yeah, come on in." she said, scooting to make space on her bed. leo walked in and plopped next to her.

"what's up?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. she knew she had to stall, so leo wouldn't leave before she got a chance to fix things.

"um, i just, wanted your help with repairing something!" piper said, adding a little charm into her words. she felt bad, but knew this was the only way to get this to work. leo nodded, listening intently.

"what do you need fixing?" he asked, looking around the room. piper got up and walked over to a part of the room, littered with brushes and hair supplies. in the center of it all, there was a tall, oval mirror. piper glanced behind it, looking at the loose screw that had been there for a week. she quietly undid the of it, and slipped it in her pocket.

"there's something wrong with this mirror. it usually can flip," she said, showing how it was supposed to work. then it slid sideways and crashed on the ground, startling both of them.

"oh... um, pipes? do you really-" leo started, looking unsure at her.

"yes! it's a very important emergency!" she argued. he shrugged and walked over, settling down to look at the mirror.

"it's missing a screw..." he said, glancing at the hole. he looked around on the ground. "do you think it fell?" he asked. piper shrugged, walking back over to her bed.

"i dunno... maybe." she said, watching leo search through the mess.

as piper watched, she bit her lip, glancing at a clock to count the seconds. he's supposed to be here. she thought. right on time, there was a gentle knock at the door. piper got up, trying not to seem suspicious or too eager. leo was still mumbling to himself about the stupid screw.

piper opened the door, only a crack. she looked through it, and saw the tall blonde standing there.

yup. jason grace stood at her cabin, standing awkwardly. she smiled internally, but couldn't show.

"hey pipes." he said, his voice heavy with anxiety and concern. she tried to put on a neutral smile.

"come in, come in!" she muttered. she stuck her arm through the crack and yanked jason through it, him yelping and stumbling. once she got him inside, he stood facing her and the door, scratching his head.

"what the heck?" he asked, watching as piper shut the door, and locked it. she sighed angrily, standing to block the door.

"you two need to talk. i won't let you leave till you figure things out! this is so stupid!" she exclaimed. she spread her arms to block all access to the door, and stood there, watching them.

jason furrowed his eyebrows, confused. he turned, scanning the room to see who else was there. leo looked up from his searching to see who was with piper. jason and leo locked eyes.

oh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ an:

yay! finally got another part out! there's just one more, wrapping everything up. i hope yall enjoyed, even though it was sorta short. i'm going back to school soon, so i won't be able to work much, but i'm going to set up fics to come out at a scheduled time. next part should be the last, and i'm almost done with hoo. toa soon!! i wanted to most focus on the "spreading it around" part, but i swear the next part will be better :p

love you all!!! (lmao i just realized that all these parts end in pipers cabin.)

[mrsoftthoughts]

I found so funny when in the pjo fandom someone says that a ship is problematic because is "Incest"...

And then the incest is because they are related on the godly side

I have to explain why say that is completely absurd??

what the fuck did you expect?

Being a series based on Greek and Roman mythology I don't think that a explanation is needed, but as a reminder, Zeus is married with his older sister and basically most beings here are related because all are descendants form the chaos , ofc that Demigods would be "related" to certain degree

And apparently this people is ignoring that in the riordanverse Is canon that Greco-Roman gods don't have dna

I've say this before and I'm gonna say it again here, that doesn't make a lot of sense for me

( ignore the powers that Toa stablished are part of the demigods and no a extension of the ones from their godly parent ,i think that some Demigods being carbon copies of their godly parents is enough reason to think that they are related, not necessarily with dna as we know it, but yeah with something that replace it )

But people saying this is the whole reason why something that haven't been a problem before had to be explained and rick decided to pull out that card

But you know what, since that i never liked that explanation made to errase a problem that doesn't exist, I'm gonna pretend that the gods are fully related just like most species, DNA and everything

And... That doesn't change anything, if gods were actually related a by extend the Demigods, I don't think that it should be such a big deal

Look

When its about a moral and ethical side of all this, it's like walking on eggshells,the comun say that parricide and incest tend to be the only universal tabus didn't come out of the nothing, and the whole scientific side of this is long af, so im gonna summarize it as much as possible

The reason why incest in humans and other species is such a bad idea, is because yours and evoryone genetic code has defects, genes that would cause different diseases if they are expressed, but for fortune are recessive, how you keep it as recessive? Not creating decendency with you own blood, even if the gene don't express itself in the next generation, now you have a individual with atleats two copies of that gene, and if the inbreeding continues, relatively soon too much copys of that exact gene would exist to atleats one don't expressing

This is also why incest gets more dangerous when its between parents-childs or siblings, but is somewhat safe between cousins

But you know what? For this, you need a genetic code having defects for starts, you need that different diseases and anomalies can mess up all this, something that i don't think deitys should have and i seriously doubt theres a possibility of that in first place, i don't see any of the gods over there being the Habsburg 2.0 despite being a family built upon the worse types of inbreeding

And... what happens when you don't see the other person as family is something to discuss in real life

But If whe already erase the problem on the genes side, i really don't think that there's a problem here, you know, in the context of demigod stuff

Its obvious that no one in camp half blood seems weird two persons from a different cabin dating, why they would? Theres no a family dinamic between them, they're just people

And i really don't think that camp Jupiter or new rome even cares about anyone dating with even a person with the same godly parent ( or two legacy's of the same deity) dating, without camp half blood cabins, they aren't meant to see each other as family, just as another soldier of the legion or other person that resides in the city

There's no ethical problem, it's obvious that it's acceptable for two Demigods of different godly parent date in both camps, two demigods of the same godly parent is on the table for discussion

And all problems caused by inbreeding are cut off because we would be dealing with the Genetics of deitys, that is probably perfect without any flaws interfering here

[ilikebigants]

Hi, I need someone else’s opinion on Leo’s ending in BoO cause personally I hate it. Like Leo’s entire reasoning for why he would die out of the seven was that he was the least valuable member and like. He’s right? Cause he does die, so his assumption was correct! And also him believing that no one would be near him/ capable of (willing to) save him is why he gave the vial to feastus instead. I know it’s meant to be like Leo defies fate and everything but it’s got to be so shattering to have your extremely low self esteem essentially be given a thumbs up by the universe.

I hate it as well, for a multitude of reasons. Let's start with the obvious: Unbelievably low self esteem.

His entire life, he's been a victim in one way or another. He was called a diabolo by his relatives for simply being born different, and his entire life he'd been going from orphanage to orphanage, being abused and bullied the whole way through. There's a high chance he's also been homeless for extended periods of time, which can give you so many different mental issues, one of the most common being a feeling that you don't exist due to how people ignored you in your time of need.

And then, Piper and Jason happen. He finally has friends!... except he doesn't. They treat him awfully, half the time wishing he wasn't there or insulting him in their minds. And as stupid as the fandom portrays him to be, he IS smart and perceptive. He definitely notices but won't bring it up because he knows what might happen if he does: they might leave him again. He'll be alone again.

People who haven't experienced long-term involuntary isolation don't understand what that does to someone. He was terrified, I can be sure of that.

How do you think he felt when he realised the friendship he had was just a product of the mist? Fearful? Helpless? He definitely wasn't happy, and I'm almost certain his heart sank at the realisation he was alone once more. The one time he wasn't only being a lie.

And then Frank and Hazel happened.

People seem to forget that Frank was an antagonising asshole WAYYYY before Leo ever insulted him or made fun of him. Why? Because Hazel treated him nicely, and Leo didn't treat her like shit. It's ridiculous. "He was trying to steal hazel1!1!" No, he wasn't. BFFR. He spoke so many times about how he'd never do that out of respect for someone else's relationship.

The reality of the situation is that he was once again isolated. He can't be friends with Frank or Hazel due to Frank's jealousy issues. Voila, he's once more alone. The 7th wheel.

Not to mention the underlying thought that Hazel only likes him because he reminds her of Sammy.

And THEN there's Percy Jackson. The saviour of olympus. Boy wander and popular as all hell. And Percy doesn't like him. Remember that? It's explicitly said that Percy didn't like Leo. Bam. There goes his last chance to make any friends. If Percy doesn't like you, then Annabeth doesn't like you. Yeah, Annabeth and Leo have been mentioned to talk about engineering with each other, but it isn't even implied that they're in any way close or talk outside of projects for the argo 2.

Why SHOULDN'T he have low self-esteem? Nothing and no one have shown him he's anything more than a tool. A thing to fix stuff around the ship. And this isn't even with me mentioning the guilt he feels for firing on New Rome, or his guilt for throwing Annabeth and Perry into Tartarus, or the MILLION of other things that have made him believe he was expendable!

His one "friend," Festus, is torn into fucking pieces!

So really, no fucking wonder he clings to the idea of a girlfriend so fucking tightly. The prospect of someone who won't leave? Who'll like him? Who'll LOVE him?! Of COURSE he wants that! And that explains why he's so eager to get back to Calypso!

I'll say it, I believe that the only reason he went back was because he thought that he and her had 1 thing in common, and that was loneliness. I genuinely believe he saw how toxic the whole thing was and didn't care because she was just as alone as he was. It's codependency in its purest form. They fought at the start, they fought in the middle, and at the end, the last scene we ever see of them together is them STILL FIGHTING. Say whatever you want about the age gap, even if it wasn't there this STILL would have been a bad relationship for both of them!

But back to the original point. Leo sacrificing himself. Personally, I think that he did it not out of a feeling of inferiority, but because he was suicidal. Straight up. And as a last ditch effort to prove to himself that the others cared.

And he was proven wrong, as they didn't care.

He was right at the end of the day. No one cared for him.

The entire story feels like a giant "fuck you" to Leo. His happy ending being losing Jason and being unhappily married to Calypso.

And on a meta level we have how the fandom treats him, basically being ignored in fan content unless they need a Comic relief.

People talk all the time about how hard the others got it in life, and I agree, but they had 1 thing that helped them make it through: a support network. Leo had it the hardest out of all of them, for the single reason that he didn't have that.

Not only was his suicide basically applauded and rewarded, but his gift for saving everyone was to be miserable for the rest of time.

We never did find out what happened to the 7 after the Trials of Apollo, but in my mind, Leo Valdez only ever talks again to Nico D'angelo. Why? Because after years with Calypso, he stops pretending, and with a gun in his right arm, he's dead.

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 4: Comfort

The Sun is the Center of Everything

See Authors Note (CW: Addiction, hard drug use)

Word count: 4.1k

“The label would like to fly you out to London.”

“Do they know we’re broken up?”

“This isn’t for an event. Sony believes that you’re the most effective kind of damage control when it comes to Damiano. They’re probably not wrong.”

“Is he okay?” Already, you’re opening Twitter.

“For now. I think he’s reached a turning point where the drugs are more scary than they are rewarding. If we can just get him into rehab…” In moments of wishful thinking, you’d done some research into rehab programs in Rome. In a moment of poor impulse control you’d stuck Damiano’s name on wait lists, which was no small undertaking. It meant using confidential healthcare information that you knew from the five year relationship. The fact that he hadn’t consented made it not entirely legal, but you justified it as a means to an end.

“The label is willing to refund Damiano for the program, whatever he chooses.” 

“I think the difference might be an Italian-speaking facility.”

“I agree. So you’ll come?”

“Yes,” you wince. This might go horribly and hurt like a motherfucker.  

“Good. Your flight leaves in four hours. The car service will drive you to the hotel. They have a gig tonight.”

“Oh lord.” The chauffeur actually took you straight to the venue, promising to deposit your belongings in your hotel room. You still had your friends and family badge. Wearing it again felt like putting on a costume. The cavernous backstage area was weirdly empty. You had to follow the arrows to the dressing rooms, of which there was an entire hallway. It was unusual that each band member had their own and that none of them were there to greet you. Handlers and security gathered around the entrance to what you assumed was Damiano’s room with crossed arms. You weren’t sure why, until you heard the yelling.

“Shit, he’s gonna shred his voice for tonight.”

“We’re past that point,” someone responds, not even looking at you.

“Just leave him to calm down,” another suggests.

“We need him for soundcheck,” someone else hisses. Many of these staff members were added since the breakup. Luckily, you found Ronnie.

“Hey, staring at him like a zoo animal isn’t helping, no?”

“Oh, hey. Yeah, um…” 

Damiano comes out of either a closet or bathroom, slams the door and bellows, “Why the fuck are you watching me?”

“We don’t know what he has on him or if he’s eaten today.” Damiano slides down with his back against the wall and curls in a ball behind the couch. He’s so defeated and powerless that it shatters your heart into splinters of glass.

“He’s totally dysregulated. Have you offered him food? Water?”

“He’s insisted that he won’t eat,” says another new voice. 

“Get him some pizza from the bougiest place you can find and if he doesn’t eat it, fine. What about his rider?”

“It contained alcohol so we had someone remove it.”

“You removed the whole rider, not just the alcoholic drinks?” You look at Ronnie in astonishment. “Fresh fruit is on his rider because he eats it before a gig. So he has something in his stomach, but it won’t make him sick running around on stage.”

“Right can, uh…can someone get some fresh fruit for Damiano?”

“No citrus, no pineapple,” you add. “Don’t need to douse his vocal chords in citric acid right before a gig. Also throat coat tea and cold compresses to help him calm down. Alkaline water, as well.” You look into the giant dressing room to see if he’s noticed your voice amongst all the others. Dami seems to be in his own little world, and not in a good way. You can’t do this with an audience.

“One more thing, could you just back up a little bit.” You herd the onlookers out of the doorway so you can achieve privacy. “Just a little more, mhm. Okay, great.” Before they realize what you’re doing, you close the doors of the dressing room in their surprised faces. Trying not to startle him, you place a hand on Dami’s back. It smells like he forgot to put on deodorant. Or maybe he was so stressed he sweated through it already.

When that doesn’t elicit a reaction, you rub his back and run your fingernails along his scalp. Dami shivers and looks up in confusion. That was your touch, but how the hell were you here? He’s obviously high, pupils completely blown out. Could phone camera’s catch that on stage? 

“I closed the doors, it’s just me and you here.” He’s still processing, confusion turning into surprise.

“What did you take? Blow and liquor?” He nods sheepishly and avoids your eyes. “What about pills?” Looking sincere, Damiano shakes his head. 

“They sent you here to talk to me?”

“I guess. I’m not here to chastise you, though. It seems like you needed some peace.” You stroke his head, then down his face. Dami leans into you organically. 

“Can we sit on the couch instead of the floor?” As he stands, there's a timid knock on the door. Someone slides a couple trays inside. Fruit and tea on one, ice water water and a stack of cloths on the other.

“Thank you,” you say curtly and lock the door. “Ohh-kay, do you want some tea for your voice?”

“No thank you,” Damiano clears his throat. You wrap the first cold rag on the back of his neck and use the second to softly wash his face, redipping to keep the cloth cold. As much as you’d like to ask questions, it was clear that soothing is what Damiano needed.

“I’m gonna go grab the other tray.” You start eating the fruit yourself, knowing that will encourage Dami, and he takes sips of tea. You exchange the rag on the back of his neck with a fresh one. This is the tipping point. He opens the water bottle, but doesn’t drink. Instead, Damiano reaches towards you, arms around your waist and head in your lap as his face crumples.

“I can’t control it!”

“I know,” you murmur, stroking his flushed complexion.

“I can’t control it and I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I just want to go home.” How childlike we all are, when worn down to the bone.

“That’s why I’m here, to take you back to Rome after this gig.”

“No, I fucking hate Rome,” he bites.

“Rome is your home.”

“No, you were my home and now whenever I go to Rome I can’t come home.” Closing your eyes, you try to steady yourself, with a few deep breaths, then a few more. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I fucked it all up and I’m afraid…it feels like I’m too far gone to turn back.”

“You are not too far gone! People spend years in hard drug addiction and they’re not too far gone. Please, don’t give up on yourself! I haven’t given up on you, not at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are right here, right now, acknowledging that this is out of your control.”

“I’m so afraid of getting better because there’s only one direction. If I don’t do it then I’ve failed. If I fail, then I might as well die.”

“No, that’s not true! If you’re alive, then there's always a chance to get better. And if you relapse, you can get clean again.” As you say the words, they sound more like a Hallmark card than a mature piece of advice. Neither of you were equipped to handle this particular moment.

“Then you won’t want me anymore!”

“Yes, I will! My love isn’t that fragile. I am not that fragile. I dealt with your self-destructive alcoholic ass for months before we ended it.”

“I’m never happy. Even the blow doesn’t make me happy, it just keeps me going. The other day I was so close to trying crack, just to see if I would fucking feel something again.

“But you didn’t?”

“No, but I almost –” You lean down and press a long kiss to Dami’s cheek.

“You’ve already started getting sober then. Plus you’ve admitted that you need to get better, that this is all out of your control. Three weeks ago you couldn’t say that. You’re doing good.”

“It feels like it was all for nothing. I burned every bridge to force Sony’s hand in a new contract, and now I’m even more miserable than before. I can’t even enjoy it because I can’t enjoy anything! I’ve driven so many people away and the ones left are other addicts, but they’re all fucking miserable too. I can see them pretending they’re not and its so fucking depressing that sometimes I don’t even want to –”

”Go on,” you whisper horsely, stiller than a granite statue.

“I don’t even want to be alive anymore,” he finally admits. “The entire world thinks I’m a druggie playboy and they’re not wrong. I’ve destroyed all my credibility, every good thing that people thought about me and I’ll never get it all back.”

“I disagree, I think an epic rebrand will be humanizing and make you more lovable than ever. People crave a comeback story.”

“But I never put 100% into getting sober before! I don’t know how to try, what if I’m not good at it?”

“I guarantee you won’t be, which is why you’re going to go to one of the best rehab facilities in Rome. You’re gonna get psychiatric care to treat the why of your addiction so you can stay clean.”

“Come on,” Damiano sits up, face riddled with skepticism. “It takes weeks or months to get into those places.” He starts eating just like you’d predicted.

“That's why you’ve been on half a dozen waitlists for a few months.” Damiano scoffs and catches a grape in his mouth.

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“How would I –” When he makes the connection, Dami’s mouth falls open in surprise. “You? But you’d need my SSN and fiscal code, right?” You nod with a self-satisfied grin. “Did you steal my identity, y/n?”

“For your own good.” He shakes his head in mock disapproval, but gives it away with a poorly suppressed smile. “I secured a spot for you before I got on the plane.” Secured was a nice way of saying frantically called and pathetically begged until I got a yes. His face falls.

“What? Do you really hate Rome that much? I’ll visit you.”

“No, no…I was just hoping for an excuse to stop by the apartment for a night.”

“When you get out, you’ll make me dinner and meet Cheeto, okay?”

“I’d love that. We’ll have– ‘scuse me.” He makes a face then bolts to the bathroom. Damiano turns on the faucet and fan, but you can guess the sound he’s concealing. Giving him a few minutes before checking in, you snoop through all his stuff. In the bottom of his box of cigarettes is a mostly empty dime bag of white powder that you almost missed. There’s also a pill case at the bottom of his purse which has coke in it, too. You feel silly after checking the room itself for drugs, as if Damiano wasn’t taping heroin to the underside of the sickly-green velvet couch.

“Babe?” Oops. “Dami, I’m coming in okay. In sickness and in health.” He’s sitting on the floor in the corner, panting, face scrunched in pain. You retrieve the water and cold compress tray.

“You really can’t keep anything down?” He shakes his head, obviously exhausted. “I’m so sorry. I know that cocaine can be hard on your stomach.”

“My own fault,” he winces.

“Yeah, but I still hate seeing you suffer.” You sit down on the floor beside Dami and pull his legs across your lap. Naturally, his head rests on your shoulder. You rub his back for a while, wiping it down with a cold cloth first.

“That's nice,” he whispers.

“Mhm.” You make a fresh one to wipe the sweat from his face. Then you take an ice cube and run it across the top of Dami’s chest to stimulate the vagus nerve. His breathing starts to slow and he leans into you more.

“I really miss this.”

“Affection?”

“Comfort. Everyone is…exhausted with me.” Not knowing what to say, you wrap one arm around Dami, set the other hand above his knee, then rock back and forth. For a few more minutes, you sit in silence on the hard tiles of the bathroom floor, just being together.

“Okay, I’m about to fall asleep, which means I need to get ready.” With a grunt, Damiano stands upright, then pulls you up after him. “Thank you, my lo – sweet – y/n.”

“Smooth.”

“Mm, thanks,” he cringes, walking up to the sink. He picks up a travel toothbrush and fresh tube of toothpaste that someone had already left there, prepared for this moment. You unlock the door and peek your head out to find Ronnie leaning his back against the opposite wall. 

“Hey is he, is he gonna do the show?”

“Yeah, can you get us tickets back to Rome as soon as possible? His place is being held at a facility that does 24/7 intake.”

“Like right after the gig?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel comfortable taking care of him overnight. He needs people who know what they’re doing.”

“So he agreed to rehab. How’d you get him in?” 

“Uh, name dropped,” you shrug, trying not to overcompensate. “So by the end of the show we’ll need a car ready with all our luggage, plus a change of clothes for Dam.

“Something inconspicuous. There’ll be a car waiting when you land, of course.”

“What if Twitter finds out we’re traveling?” Fans wanting a picture was inconvenient, but paparazzi wanting a story were truly the worst ever.

“Security will be there as soon as you deplane. We’ll keep this need to know.”

“‘Kay because he can’t handle any stress. I’ll need an ETA before we take off to give the facility and um…I don’t want him to get arrested for drug possession.”

“Damiano never puts drugs in his luggage, he always keeps them on his person.” You can already feel the nerves of walking by drug sniffing K-9s, hoping to god that there isn’t any significant residue in the bottom of his pant’s pocket.

“So we’re depending on the addict to be rational, thorough, and honest in the process of throwing all his drugs out? Really?”

“He’s good about not taking stuff through TSA. We wipe everything down. There's a system and we haven’t been caught yet.”

“And as great as that is –”

“Y/n,” Ronnie takes both your hands in his own. “Neither of you will end up in English prison tonight, I promise.” The lingering skepticism is written all over your face. “I promise,” he insists. 

Damiano acts the very same before going on stage. He smokes a cigarette and bounces in place to mitigate his own adrenaline.You always stand with him in this moment, rubbing his arms and reminding Dami to be gentle while stretching his neck. It’s comforting to see the band comradery persist now that they’ve come together. There's fist bumps, plus Thomas and Victoria threatening to ruin the other’s performance. Mia is joking along with them, cheeks flushed and her top inside out. Tom keeps a hand on the neck of his guitar so it doesn’t hit her.

At this moment, you’d kiss Dami good luck, having to get on your tiptoes because of his stage shoes. Today you slink into the shadows and see him take a breath from an oxygen canister. Their stage manager counts down from ten while shining a flashlight at the floor, so no one trips on a wire or seam in the stage. You can see him put the persona on, then drop the cigarette on the floor and stamp it out. If you were beside him, Dami would take a final puff and hand it over for you to finish. 

Ethan goes on stage first, then the rest of them. The audience releases a wall of sound and the unhinged screaming only intensifies as the lights go up. You can barely hear Ethan’s sticks click as he counts the band in. Mia cheers with the crowd, in case Thomas looks back. They never look back, but you both did it anyway. Just in case. She begins walking towards the audience exit. It was easiest to slip in front of the barricade unnoticed at the beginning because of the hysteria. You feel the tug in your chest to go with her, sing the lyrics to songs that Damiano had shown you first. 

“Y/n! Oh my god!!” It's jarring to be noticed in real time since you feel so stuck in memories.

“Mia, hey!” You try to match her enthusiasm. “Looks like you’re having fun.” You flick the tag of her blouse as she comes in for the hug.

“Yeah, this venue is huge!” She doesn’t pick up the reference, but enthusiastically agrees anyway. Her and Thomas were both like that: sunny.

“I see you made use of the space.” Mia finally looks down.

“Oh shit! We weren’t sure how long the show was delayed, but Tom thought we had more time to, you know, finish. I wouldn’t touch his guitar if I were you.”

“Ew! You guys are disgusting, I’m so happy for you.” 

“Yeah, thank you!” she laughs. “Let me just...” Mia ducks into Thomas’ dressing room and fixes her top. “So, c’mon let’s go watch.”

“I, um…We’re not back together.”

“Okay, but I’m sure Dam would love to see you out there.”

“I can’t be filmed or photographed today. Also if you could not tell anyone that I’m here?”

“Uh, sure,” she’s put off, torn between staying backstage with you and watching the show.

“But, you go ahead! I have a ton of work stuff anyway, so I’m actually gonna be busy.” A total lie, but Mia isn’t the type to question the authenticity of a friend.

“Oh, okay! Love ya, good luck!” She pulls you in for a goodbye side hug, and practically skips down the hall. Was Damiano expecting to see you in front of the barricade? He probably hadn’t thought about the social media and paparazzi component, which meant he’d be disappointed. This realization didn’t change anything, it just made you miserable. 

Except for the roadies, it's just you backstage. The actual concert was their time off, since they began hauling gear in total darkness as soon as the band finished. Despite how labor intensive their jobs were, the crew was in good spirits, their laughter echoing down the hall. They wore all black with tattoos scribbled on their forearms and cursed as much as possible. You consider saying hi, but this is no longer your space. It'd be like walking into your childhood bedroom with the Justin Bieber posters, hot pink bedspread, and tinkerbell night light still intact. You were visiting a past life, like a ghost.

While Thomas opens the encore with his solo, Dami runs back to his dressing room. You know that his body has become dependent on coke to get through a show and that if he stops now, he’ll crash before you can hand him off to the professionals. Still, it's awkward for both parties. Damiano pulls the pill case from his purse and looks at you with a pained expression.

“I…can’t do this while you’re watching.”

“Right, okay.” You stand up and gesture towards the door. “So I’ll just…”

“No, no, you shouldn’t have to leave. I’ll just go in the bathroom.” Dami closes the door halfway and hesitates because that seems a bit excessive.

“Are you gonna shove it up your ass or?” Dami’s laughter bounces off of the tiles.

“No, I only do that on certain occasions.”

“Like a birthday special?”

“Exactly.” You can hear the tap of something plastic against the porcelain sink. “Can you tell me you’re disappointed in me or something? This feels wrong.” You try to come up with something to say, but end up blanking.

“You are…a very bad boy.”

“Kinky.”

“Ugh, I’m trying! Disappointing…your behavior is disappointing. You are too grown not to know better. Refusing to acknowledge a problem exists is…counter productive to healing. You need to prioritize healing because nobody can do that for you. You have –”

“Okay, done!”

“Thank god.”

“See you in 15!” You walk around the kitchen collecting possibly useful supplies for the car ride, plus the pizza box with Dami’s name on it. The chauffeur walks down the hall with Damiano’s clothes in a garment bag.

“Your flight departs in two hours and 41 minutes,” he says in a professional tone. “Shall I take that to the car?”

“Huh?” Oh, thank you.” The jitters have already started to set in. “And has Damiano’s luggage been inspected?”

“Inspected, ma’am?”

“Yes, has someone on their team looked through it?”

“His luggage was packed by a member of their staff, although I am not sure if they inspected it in the process. Should I ask?”

“Yes, please.” He walks away looking bewildered. You hear the final scream of the concert and try to locate Damiano through the rush of activity backstage. Each band member walks towards the dressing rooms with a towel in hand, drying the sweat from their faces. Dami is exhausted, but he smiles wide when he sees you.

“Hey, were you out there?” 

“No, I didn’t want to get mobbed when those photos hit Twitter.”

“Ah, smart.” He’s still disappointed.

“I’m sorry, but I need you to hurry up and shower. There's a change of clothes hanging in the bathroom. Also I made a cup of baking soda and water for your stomach. Our flight leaves in two and a half hours.”

“Jesus.” He pulls his shirt off while walking into the dressing room, the muscles of his slick back rippling. For a moment you’re very distracted with memories of digging your fingernails into that back while he fucked you to overstimulation. Or when you’d peg him from behind, cupping his balls in the palm of your hand, lips to the nape of his neck. Damiano made the most beautiful sounds when he bottomed. So whiny and demanding.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“Huh?”

“I was saying it's so nice to see you,” Victoria panted. Ethan agrees behind her.

“Yes, you look well.” His formal way of speaking had endeared you from the very first meeting. Tom is nowhere to be found, probably finishing what he and Mia started before the gig.

“Oh uh, thanks. Sorry, I’m distracted. Our flight is…soon. Too soon.”

“Like tonight?” Victoria exclaims, pulling her own shirt off. She was bare breasted and unapologetic as per usual.

“Yeah, I guess the sooner, the better.”

“So he’s really going? Of his own volition?” 

“Mhm! He’ll be in the facility by breakfast tomorrow.” 

“Oh my god, that's amazing,” Ethan lets out a huge sigh of relief and Vic grins.

“I’d hug you if I wasn’t disgusting.”

“Well, that’d just give me a boner,” you deadpan. Nobody loved raunchy, flirtatious humor like Victoria.

“Ooh, well since you and Dam are on a break…” She wiggles her eyebrows and shimmies closer, sauntering around you with a provocative expression. Meanwhile, Ethan is silently laughing with his eyes scrunched. It's enough to evoke a genuine smile, but also your heart aches for the months you’d missed with these dumbasses.

“Since he’s busy, do you want me to show you what it’s supposed to feel like?” She gives an over exaggerated wink. There had been a strictly no band members policy in your non-monogamy.

“I heard that! Keep your paws off of her, Vic!!” Dami yells from the bathroom.

“Ugh, fine!” She gives your ass a robust slap before disappearing into her dressing room. Your understanding was that “on a break” and broken up were vastly different things, even though phonetics would suggest otherwise. Had Damiano lied or were you reading too much into it? And why did it make you so happy? Before you can get caught in a hell cycle of intrusive thoughts, Ronnie walks up and hugs you. 

“I’m really glad you came,” he admits, pulling away. Your arms hang limply by your sides in surprise. Ronnie wasn’t the hugging type or the emotional type, but his eyes are glassy. It throws you off guard even further.

“You okay?”

“What? Yeah.” He clears his throat roughly. “And we checked everything twice. Someone is currently wiping out Damiano’s purse, just for you.” 

“We can’t all be rock ‘n roll. Some of us have to be anal as fuck.”

“Agreed. I just wanted to wish you luck.” He gives a tight lipped smile and continues down the hall.

“Am I gonna need it?”

“Hopefully not,” he yells over his shoulder.

“Very reassuring, thanks.”

Notes: This is queue. I am currently camping because today is the anniversary of my grandmother's death. Taglist will be updated when I return. Thank you for reading, I promise it gets way less depressing really soon.

-XOXO Eden

Taglist (or taglist removal)

Masterlist

@surelyfreedombound @shinshans @lonnybunnys @davianos-blog @hauntedpostperson @lizzylynch1 @kammerstx@harryssshouseee @slavicgoddess13 @persona1read1ng@katyldamusic @whore4damia @the-chaotic-cow@icarodamiano @gr8rainbowpunk@elvirabelle@bright-shiningstar@maneslut @stardustingold @little-moonbeam-666@que--sera--sera

[bullet-prooflove]

Hiya. I have an ask for Scott Forrester again. ❤️ The prompt is: #58 “Can I ask you a question?” Thank you so much.

Tagging: @a-noni-love @district447 @soultrysworld @kmc1989 @delightfulheroshoeflap @upsteadlogic @ottitt @ @too-strong-to-lose @hearthockey @alice30martini @tems13

References to OA's Prey Series

Companion piece to Tonight - You turn up on Scott's doorstep after months apart

The bruising’s worse this morning, darker, more prominent. It stains your skin in shades of indigo as you sit at the breakfast bar, still clad in Scott’s clothing. You were stiff when you gotten up, hissing through your teeth as you slipped out from underneath the sheets. He’s done his best to take care of you, breakfast, tea, painkillers, all in that order.

“Can I ask you something?” You request, your hands wrapping around the mug you’re drinking from.

“Anything.” He says resolutely, leaning across the counter.

His hands come to rest on yours, his thumbs ghosting over the split skin across your knuckles, each one bloody, raw. You’d given as good as you’d got, he can tell. You used to box when you were in the Navy, Golden Gloves for a few years running. He’s been on the receiving end a couple of times during training. He knows you pack one hell of a punch.

“Before I left, I found Jamie here in your bed.” You tell him, your eyes fixated on the steam as it curls out from the mug. “I know we didn’t put a label on it but I thought things were getting serious, we were talking about going back to Italy…”

You trail off for a second before your gaze flickers up to meet his.

“Was I wrong?” You ask him.

“Natalia,” Scott says softly. “There hasn’t been another woman since Rome, there won’t ever be another woman if that’s what you want.”

“Jamie…” You begin and he shakes his head.

“Before I met you, the two of us were together for a while, it was the first relationship I had after Hanna.” He swallows hard against the ache in his chest, the one he always gets when he thinks about Hanna. “We weren’t good for each other. She was running from her grief and I was trying to cope with what happened in New York.”

He pauses, trying to select his next words carefully.

“I suspect when Jamie came over that night she was looking comfort, it’s an old pattern we’d fallen into when her sister’s anniversary came around. It’s not something I’m proud of.” He sighs as he looks down at your hands. “Is that why you left?”

“No.” You say quietly. “It was Pavlovic.”

It takes him a second to register your words, for them to really sink in. His head snaps up and suddenly he understands the level of brutality behind the beating, the viciousness of it.

“When he escaped from prison, he reached out to some contacts, people we had in common.” You tell him. You used to work Intelligence in the Navy, you’d excelled because you’d known how to assimilate, how to cultivate relationships, maintain them.  “That was the assignment I was tapped for, the one we were meant to discuss that night.”

“Did he do this to you?” Scott asks, his voice a ragged whisper.

Bile climbs up the back of his throat and for a moment he’s back in New York, thrust five years into the past, looking into the eyes of another woman who’d been brutalised in his name.

“He knew who I was from the moment I walked into that meeting.” You tell Scott, your mouth twisting up into a bitter smile. “He’d been surveilling you, surveilling us.”

The air rushes out of Scott’s lungs, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He can’t breathe, he can’t fucking breath because it’s happening all over again.

“Nat.” He rasps, his voice barely a whisper. “Nat, did he… I need to know…”

You open your mouth and Scott knows what’s coming, he can feel the blade of the axe kissing the back of his neck.

“No.” You tell him, your eyes meeting his. “I killed him before he could.”

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[teecupangel]

How about a reverse of animal Desmond in the past, and instead it's his ancestor's, as animals, in the future? Maybe watching Desmond as he goes through the memories with the Animus and his eventual 'death' via Isu BS. (And witnessing Bill's punch, oof.)

I read ‘ancestors as animals’ and immediately thought: “Desmond as a Disney Princess? Desmond as a Disney Princes???” XD

Okay.

So this seems like a two part scenario with the first part being more like a prologue of Desmond’s ancestors being able to watch Desmond from the past. Maybe during the time that they were in possession of the Apple.

Although that would be a bit hard to explain because Ratonhnhaké:ton thought the Apple he received from Washington was dangerous and he would never willingly ‘poke’ it.

So an alternative would be that they all catch a glimpse of Desmond while the Apple is in their possession but they believe that it is meant to entice them to touch the Apple more, to find out more, and let the Apple sink its claws into them further and further.

So they resist its calls. Even Ezio who had been given a glimpse of someone saying the name ‘Desmond’ and a vision of a man turning to face him. But he had been so tempted. So very tempted that it was only because he was not alone that he could resist the temptation. It was only because he knew the effects it had on Leonardo after Cesare made him access the Apple’s knowledge that stops him from succumbing to it.

But Altaïr… Altaïr had resisted for so long, had controlled himself, and only studied the Apple for a specific amount of time. Then… Sef died… Malik died… Maria died… And Darim left him.

All alone.

And so Altaïr stopped resisting. He let the calls of the Apple consume him.

And that’s when he met Desmond Miles.

No.

Not met.

He watched.

And he felt the loss of another loved one, of a family member, once more.

So when Altaïr took his final steps in a library void of any knowledge or books.

He whispered to the Apple his final command.

An Apple that had long bent to his will.

An Apple corrupted by the will of one poor miserable old man who was tired of losing everything.

And that whisper became a wave that corrupted every other POE connected to the same network as this abomination formed by both the will of the Isus and that of an old man with a lot of time in his hands.

The wave grew into a tsunami…

That covered and destroyed part of the calculations that the Isus have prepared.

Not enough to change the events that must come to pass.

But just big enough…

To wash old entities into the final part of the calculations, destroying what was meant to happen.

And creating a pit of sand where a castle could be built…

And destroyed once more.

Now. For the second part!

The easiest way would be if the animal turned Assassins found their way to Desmond on their own while he was growing up.

And it would be so easy for all of them to be different types of eagles or some other kind of avian but I kinda like the idea that Desmond’s main ancestors would be Ratonhnhaké:ton’s DLC animal spirits and it’ll be:

Ratonhnhaké:ton

Ratonhnhaké:ton is the wolf because Connor means ‘lovers of wolves’ or ‘master of hounds’ and he has to have the ability to call ghost wolves with a howl.

He finds Desmond while he’s in New York (maybe before he was a bartender) as a cub and Desmond thought he was a dog.

By the time Ratonhnhaké:ton had grown into an actual full-sized wolf, Desmond knew he was a wolf but just kept telling anyone who ask if that was a fucking wolf that it’s a ‘dog’.

Because he doesn’t want anyone to call animal control, Ratonhnhaké:ton has to stay in his apartment.

Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to save Desmond when he got captured by Cross but he was too late and he spent the entire time of AC1 and AC2 trying to find a way to get from New York to Rome.

Shaun almost had a heart attack when Ratonhnhaké:ton entered their hideout during one of Desmond’s Animus sessions.

Desmond likes to say “don’t be stupid, Shaun, he’s obviously a dog.” to Shaun, straight out lying to him. (He’s not trying to gaslight Shaun but if Shaun starts doubting himself, that’s on him)

Ezio

Okay, I know Ezio means eagle as well but Altaïr is gonna be the eagle and nothing can change my mind on that.

Which means Ezio gets to be the bear that they find sleeping in the Sanctuary underneath Villa Auditore.

Like, Desmond and Lucy just enters thru the ‘back door’ of the Sanctuary and Lucy’s like “Desmond… don’t move.” and Desmond’s like “???” then he sees the bear and goes “Holy shit, Lucy… is that a fucking bear” “Sssshhh, it’s still sleeping. Let’s just bac-”

Ezio wakes up and yawns, making both of them freeze before he turns to see Desmond and his bear face lits up because “Desmond!” which sounds like a bear roar to them.

Cue Desmond and Lucy screaming in a high-pitched tones when the bear suddenly charges them and then we have a comedic chase scene where Ezio the bear chases Desmond around the Sanctuary while Lucy climbs one of the statues because every man for themselves, Desmond, oh screw you Lucy!

It finally ends with Ezio bodyslamming Desmond and… just staying on top of Desmond and giving him a bear hug. Ezio is a big bear and Desmond just lies there, thinking yeah, play dead, might work.

Once it’s certain that the bear just wants to hold Desmond (and groom his hair apparently), Lucy gingerly walks away, ignoring Desmond’s death glare, to open the secret passage.

Ratonhnhaké:ton the wolf rush inside because he heard Desmond shouting and, really, it took both Shaun and Rebecca’s combined weight to stop him from trying to follow Desmond and Lucy in that underground passage.

It ends with the wolf and the bear just chilling near Desmond whenever he’s in the Animus and the three humans that are not named Desmond are starting to think that something strange is going on.

Altaïr

Okay, so Altaïr is an eagle in this one and he’d been trying to find Desmond because, out of all the ancestors, he’s the only one who actually thought… yeeaaahhh… this is probably my fault.

Unfortunately, his clearest memories of Desmond are when he had been abducted by Abstergo and got sent to Rome so he caught up to Desmond while he’s in the Rome facility in AC1.

He tried to help the Assassin team that tried to get Desmond out but they were outgunned and no one really paid attention to a fucking eagle until it started crying at them and leading them out of the ambush point they found themselves in.

After that, Altaïr had to leave because Abstergo seemed to think he’s some kind of Assassin spy. What? Did they think Assassins could have some kind of special bonds with an eagle or something? How ridiculous.

Anyway, the heightened security of Abstergo kept Altaïr from thinking of how to help Desmond out and, really, it was a good thing Lucy got him out because Altaïr had been debating how painful it would be to divebomb the wall of windows in the Animus level.

He follows them to the warehouse hideout and had been planning to make himself known when he sees the wolf barreling inside and… well… Altaïr could feel something different with that wolf. So he just… starts observing them first, perched in one of the many beams, silent and quiet.

When they got to Villa Auditore, Altaïr had been tempted to follow them in the mines but decided to just wait for a bit. Something was deep underground that felt the same as the wolf. He just doesn’t know what.

Altaïr was pretty sure he’d been quite sneaky but then Desmond climbs up the tree he had been using to keep a lookout of the villa and asks if he had followed them from Rome and Altaïr is impressed that Desmond actually found him. He must be better than Altaïr assumed (no, Desmond always knew he was around because he gave off the same feeling the wolf and the bear gives him) and Altaïr finally decides to join Desmond and sits on his shoulder as they make their way back to the Sanctuary.

When they get there, Shaun takes one long look at the eagle on Desmond’s shoulder, turns to stare at the wolf and bear near the Animus and just… gives up. Just one long suffering sigh and turns around while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Other possible animals to include:

Edward: It would be fun to make him some kind of fish like maybe a goldfish or a beta fish that Desmond could keep in a small aquarium in his apartment. Like, he has no real ‘importance’ to the plot but he kept Desmond company before the plot. He could also be a jackdaw because that’s the name of his ship. XD

Haytham: Some kind of fluffy cat. He’s so fluffy he keeps getting petted which stops him from doing whatever he was planning to do. Seriously. He’s been taken to the pound and adopted so many times that Haytham has lost track (of how many times he had been taken and where Desmond was)

Aquilus: It would be fun if he was one of the guard dogs that the Farm had. He always let Desmond pet him and tried to console him as a kid. When Desmond ran away, Aquilus helped him navigate the forest before staying behind even though Desmond begged him to come with him. Aquilus stayed on the Farm to keep the other guard dogs from chasing Desmond’s scent and helping Desmond leave.

Other possible MC turned animal (I just went with my first thought so none of this… other than Arno… are sorta final?):

Shay: I’m thinking crow since that’s one of the Morrígan’s primary ‘forms’

Arno: Okay, okay. So… hear me out. Arno as a… sea otter. Wait, wait, wait. I have a reason for it! Sorta. Kinda. Anyway. Arno shares the same birthday (August 26) as one of the oldest sea otters right now: Rosa the Sea Otter. ……… Yeah, that’s it. That’s the reason why I want Arno to be a sea otter. I said I had a reason, I never said it was a ‘good’ reason.

Jacob and Evie: a pair of corgi the same size and breed as Desmond the Dog. Jacob believes that whoever reincarnated them as corgis had a bad sense of humor. They get mistaken for the royal corgis a lot and it’s quite annoying.

Bayek: Amun is usually symbolized by the ram-headed sphinx so a ram maybe?

Aya: the same snake that she got the venom she gave to Cleopatra

Kassandra: Okay, this is gonna be weird, probably, but I’m thinking maybe a goat? And! It’s not because she put the eye of ‘Cyclops’ into a goat’s ass, alright? Her ship is based on the goddess who nurtured Zeus and she used goat’s milk in that myth so I thought… it kinda works??? Also, it would be funny if Kassandra wondered if she was being punished for the whole eye on the goat’s ass incident by being turned into one.

Eivor: Raven the same shade and size as Sýnin.