#honestly I know a part of percy was relieved once he figured out that one line was referring to Luke and he didn't have to die

[ofswordsandpens]

Percy, who had finally accepted to bear the burden of the great prophecy after agonizing over it for years only for everyone to repeatedly tell him in the final book that he's not the hero and its not about him:

[givemeweasley]

Back To You pt. 2

Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: tears and fears and Fred is sad, also more mentions of death

A/N: I honestly wasn’t planning on doing a part two but a few of you asked for it and everyone seemed to like BTY so I figured why not. Also unedited so lemme know if anythings amiss, but enjoy!

Back To You pt. 1

-----

“Told you I’d always come back to you, Freddie.”

Fred couldn’t move. Surely he was hallucinating. Surely you couldn’t be alive after days of being dead.

Surely Fred would blink, and you would be gone.

But your fist curled around his pant leg as tears slipped down your bloodied face and he knew it couldn’t be a lie.

Fred fell to the ground pulling you in his arms. As weak as you were, your arms curled around him too. You smelled like dirt and blood, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. You were alive. And that was all that mattered.

Fred sobbed into your shoulder as he felt your tears soak his shirt. He would never let you go again for as long as he lived. He swore it.

It felt like hours the two of you were intertwined and crying on the floor. Neither of you wanting to let the other go.

But Fred knew you were injured, he could feel it every time he shifted and you flinched. So he pulled back to look into your eyes. He pushed some of your hair away from your face that was matted in blood.

“Let’s get you fixed up, yeah?”

You nodded, the tears still shining in your eyes.

Fred curled his arms underneath your body as he lifted you from the floor. He made his way downstairs where his mother was pacing, wand and first aid kit in hand.

As soon as she saw the both of you, she looked relieved and waved for Fred to put you down on the couch.

“Be gentle! Be gentle! She could be gravely injured!” Mrs. Weasley fretted about nervously. Fred, for once, listened to his mother and placed you down on the couch as gently as could be.

He stood back refusing to leave even after Mrs. Weasley shooed everyone out of the living room. She lifted your shirt and did her best to heal the many wounds that littered your body. She then helped you out of what was left of your pants, for they had been torn in some places.

Looking at you made Fred feel a rage he had never known. Your body was littered in injuries, he was surprised you were alive at all. He wanted nothing more than to hurt the Death Eaters that did this to you.

“What happened, dear?” Mrs. Weasley whispered just loud enough for Fred to hear. You glanced at him, and at once he came to sit next to you. He grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around your shoulders so you could be warm as Mrs. Weasley continued to work.

Fred wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into his embrace. Freds anger melted away as gratitude and love filled it instead.

“We were getting chased by the Death Eaters…” You choked out.

“Accio Cup!” Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at the door. A glass came flying in and landed in her hand. “Aguamenti!” And the glass filled. She handed it to you, who readily drank it.

“He said the killing curse, but someone hit me with the Cruciatus curse I think. It knocked me off the broom and-” Tears began to pour more readily. “Mad-Eye…”

“It’s okay, dear.” Mrs. Weasley grabbed your hand.

Fred hated to see you so upset, so hurt, so...broken.

“It hit him instead and he fell off too.” You got quiet, but you continued. “I remember falling. Thinking of you-” Your strong gaze met Freds and he lifted his hand to cup your cheek. “I- I was desperate so I tried to Shield Charm Harry taught us in the DA. Somehow I survived when I hit the ground. But I knew- I knew they would come to find our bodies. I did a Concealment Charm in hopes that they wouldn’t find me. I blacked out.” You took another sip of the water before continuing. “I woke up a day later and could barely move. Mad-Eye was gone. I had my wand and did every spell I could think of to help me to stand. But it was hard. Luckily, I remembered enough from Astronomy to figure out which direction the burrow lay, and I started to walk. I was too injured to Apparate or do anything else really.”

When you finished your story, Fred found himself even more in love with you than he had been minutes before. Your eyes were sparkling with tears and despite the pain he saw in them, he saw relief. He was sure the same was reflected in his own.

He didn’t see his mother leave, but he wouldn’t have cared if she was still there as he pulled you into his arms. Your lips met feverishly, the pain and stress of the last few days was released in that kiss. His hands clawed at whatever inch of your body he could reach, while your own tangled in his hair.

Fred stood, you cradled against him and took you upstairs to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him and locked it as he softly set you on his bed with the blanket still tightly wrapped around your shoulders. His arms fell on either side of your head as you looked up from beneath him. His large frame shielded you from everything else.

Your hand reached up to cradle his face. Your hands were calloused from days of fighting to survive, but Fred didn’t care. He thought he would never see you, much less feel your touch ever again.

He tilted his head to kiss your palm before he stripped down to his boxers and curled into bed behind you. Fred pulled the covers over both of your bodies and wrapped his arm around your waist, your back to his chest. He only spoke when your breathing leveled.

“I don’t think I can live without you.” His words were muffled in your hair but he knew you heard from the way you flipped to face him.

“You won’t have to.” You whispered, pushing his hair from his wearied face.

“How can you be sure?” His voice cracked, only revealing a fraction of the pain he had suffered when he believed you dead.

“Well, that’s just the thing isn’t it? I can never be sure but you’ll just have to trust that I know.”

Fred stared at you in awe. But he didn’t respond before tucking you close to him. He wanted to feel the drum of both your heart beats sync. He needed to know- to feel- you safe in his arms.

He listened to the sound of your breathing slow, telling him you were asleep. It was only then that Fred buried his head in your hair and breathed you in, falling asleep himself to the complete encompassing of you.

-----

It was pure chaos. You had been separated from Fred awhile ago. But you were frantically scouring the halls for any sign of him as you dodged curses and sent out a few of your own.

You were utterly exhausted, your arm was practically sliced open from one particularly nasty curse. But still you pushed on, determined to find Fred.

“FRED!” You shouted, getting more desperate as time wore on. But there was still no sign of his tall frame and bright red hair.

So you pushed on.

Until you saw him.

Fighting next to Percy as the Death Eaters spat curses at them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione not far off, but you ignored them. Your sole focus was the man you loved.

Your legs pushed harder than they ever had before but you were still so far away. And your gut was screaming at you. Screaming to run faster.

Heart pounding.

Lungs heaving.

You saw the word leave the Death Eaters lips.

I’m too far away.

But once more, like it had before, the world seemed to slow. Time faltered in its speedy step and gifted you the moment you needed.

All at once, you lifted your wand, flung yourself onto Fred and screamed.

The world exploded.

From all sides, rubble came raining down. It broke through your shield and collapsed on top of you. But still you clung to Fred. Nothing, not even Voldemort himself, would be enough to keep you from protecting the one you loved. And so the castle fell around you and on top of you.

But you would not be moved.

When the dust settled, you heard screaming. Cries. Shouts. The rubble shifted around you until you felt like you could breathe again.

You lifted your face, tears filling your eyes. Fear filling every orifice of your body.

And you looked down at Fred, hoping you had been enough. Praying you had been enough.

And his smiling face looked back at you.

Light in his eyes, breath in his lungs, life in his body. You cried out as you wrapped yourself even tighter around him, and felt his arms come around you.

“They’re alive!” You heard Percy shout. Fred sat up grunting, but you were still tightly clinging to him.

Suddenly, you felt more arms wrap around you. You heard Percy, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all whispering words of relief before they stood.

“We need to get moving.” Harry spoke up. You allowed yourself to look at him, still tucked in Freds embrace before nodding.

The three of them ran off, Percy lagging behind still glancing back to check that Fred was still alive.

The both of you stood, hand in hand. You looked at Fred as he began to pull you down the same corridor. Memorizing the way his hair hung, the way his shoulders twisted, how long his eyelashes were. You weren’t going to lose him tonight, you were damn sure of that. But that fear was still dancing inside of you, making you study every aspect of him.

Fred tugged you into the Great Hall, pulling you into a corner. Before you could ask what he was doing, his arms flung around you and pulled you into his chest. Your arms responded by wrapping tightly around his waist.

“Marry me.” Fred mumbled into your hair. He pulled back slightly to look in your eyes. “If we make it through this, marry me.”

Your hands slid between the two of you, brushing your way up his chest until they cupped his cheeks. “When we get through this, nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.”

And despite the battle still raging on beyond that dark corner of the Great Hall, as Fred pulled you in for a kiss, you swore nothing else mattered except for the feel of his bruised lips against your own.

Taglist: @huffledor-able541​ @hvstias​ @accioholland​

Let me know if you want to be apart of my taglist!

[chuchiotaku]

[Preview] TBA 17: Hatch and Flight

Did someone miss a certain baby dragon? Ron definitely did not, but whether he likes it or not, Norberta is coming to officially be his problem.

[Target Release Date: May]

It was a cool Saturday afternoon when Ron came to the Ancient Runes study club classroom to see Professor Hui, excited butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It was going to be the first day of what Hui called their “wand aptitude tests” sessions, and Ron was both nervous and eager to find out just how different these sessions will be compared to his experience with Ollivander.

There was also a bit of good news Ron wanted to share. “I don’t know why it worked, but it did, Professor!” Ron said happily over the tea Hui served him—a light but distinct, slightly bittersweet herbaceous blend Hui called “matcha”—while raising Charlie’s old wand. “Charlie looked at me like I had gone a bit barmy when I told him about it, but after he asked the wand to play nice, it worked.” He paused. “Well, it’s not perfect, but at least it’s not actively trying to make my life hell.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Mr. Weasley,” Hui held the wand appraisingly before nodding. “The way this wand feels in my hands proves your statement. Of course, as you have said, it is not the perfect solution, as the wand may be doing this only out of respect to your brother. There is no way of knowing up to how far will the wand cooperate with you with that in mind.”

“It’s still mind-boggling how the wands act more sentient than I thought.” Ron said honestly. “Makes me wonder if talking to it will help. Like it getting to know me or something like that? Does that even make sense?”

Hui smiled. “Absolutely. Magical folk who showed respect towards wands and magical objects create the most steadfast of bonds with them, with some so strong that no one but those who the object consider their rightful owners can ever wield or touch them even. Can you think of any magical object that was strongly associated with any figure in history?”

Ron’s mind went back to the History of Magic lessons he had with Percy. “Err, Excalibur? King Arthur Pendragon’s sword?”

“Excalibur was the sword the Lady of the Lake handed to Arthur Pendragon in exchange for a favour, yes, but over time, Arthur managed to imprint a part of himself into that blade, the same way Excalibur did on him. The same can be said with Arthur’s first sword, Caliburn, which chose him to be the Once and Future King, the only one who could pull it out of the stone.” Hui paused for a sip of his tea. “And there are other examples throughout history I can name: Manannan mac Lir’s kin and Fragarach; his own descendant, Cú Chulainn and Gáe Bolg; Guān Yǔ, a legendary Chinese general hailed to be a war God, and the Qīng lóng yǎnyuèdāo; Parashurama then his pupil, Karna, and the bow, Vijaya, said to be a gift from the Hindu God of Destruction, Shiva. But since you’re not here for a history lesson, let’s move on, shall we?”

Ron blinked. “But aren’t most of them myths?”

“If that is what the storytellers want you to believe.” Hui said cryptically. “And whether you will believe that I have seen at least one of them with my own eyes or not is just as much up to you.”

Ron did a double-take. “You what?”

“We could discuss it further another time, as always. But we are here for your aptitude assessment."

“If Percy hadn’t told us about the surprise party he and the twins have been planning since yesterday, we never would have found out.” Harry said, still obviously miffed about it.

“Oi, it’s not that I can just go and tell you lot, ‘Oh, by the way, my birthday is on 1st of March, just so you know.’” He said in exasperation.

“And it’s just not fair, since you know all of our birthdays!” Hermione pointed out. “I don’t even know how you found out!”

Ron shrugged. “Harry’s and Neville’s were pretty obvious. As for yours, I have my ways.”

Neville shook his head. “You and your mysteries, Ron.”

“But I think it’s great you are part of the surprise. Really means a lot to me that you went through all the trouble.”

“We’re your friends, Ron!” Hermione said in exasperation. “And it’s no trouble, really. You’re the one who kept saying I needed a break from my books every now and then, weren’t you?”

Ron laughed. “Right.”

“And you looked like you needed the break too.” Neville added. “You’ve been looking out of sorts for a while now. It’s got nothing to do with the you-know-what, does it?”

The time traveler’s gut clenched at the worry in his friend’s eyes. He should have known his friends would have noticed his sudden change in mood. Did his brothers notice too, he wondered? Was that why they organised this surprise party?

What the hell are you doing, Ron?

“I’m really sorry about that, Nev. It wasn’t even anything too important anyway,” said Ron, “Was just too worried over what-if’s that I really can’t do anything about.”

“If it’s something we can help with, you know you can tell us,” Hermione said. “Well, even if it might not be something we can help with, you can tell us anyway.”

“My Gran always said that we shouldn’t try to worry too much about the future. Makes us lose sight of what’s in front of us.” Neville said kindly. “And besides, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it!”

Ron winced. “I wish I knew where your faith in me is coming from, Nev.”

“And I wish I knew where yours kept disappearing to.” Harry said sharply.

“Somewhere in the real world, I reckon.” Ron shrugged. “But Neville’s right. No sense worrying too much over something that isn’t here yet. I’ll deal with it when it comes, just like I always do.” He clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “And I’m glad I have such wicked mates to knock some sense into me whenever I get lost in my own head!”

And Ron meant it. Maybe it was a consequence of being a time traveler, but Ron became more prone to overthinking things and events to the point where he blocked everything else out. Having his friends there to pull him out of his self-made burrow of anxiety and careful planning helped in not only relieving him of some of that burden, but also in reminding him about the importance of what was in front of him right now.

But Norberta. Oh, Merlin, Norberta. That fucking dragon I can definitely do something about.

[vidimillion]

Jasico in Atlantis/Treasure Planet &/or Pirates AU?? Mostly just thinking about that fantasy treasure huntin' adventure flavor...

it took a while for me to get the time to write this and even longer to get the inspo for it. honestly was a blast to think up tho. thanks for the req!

jason grace is the son of the king, groomed to one day be the one to take the throne. whether he liked it or not.

the young prince was the king's ideal son— handsome, smart, athletic, kind... the picture perfect image of a leader. a young man who liked to read stories about adventure and ride horseback into the kingdom, where he'd look at the other kids his age, playing around.

look. look, and never join.

his older sister thalia, the ex-crown princess, has not been seen since jason was a little kid. at least, not officially, because in reality she had been visiting her baby brother in secret for years. she'd been on the run the whole time, but always found a way to come back to her brother.

jason loves her, he does, but he resents her a little for leaving the pressure of the kingdom (and their father) on him. though every time he asks her, she only smiled at him and whispered, "don't worry about anything. I have a plan."

he never understood what she meant. he wanted to believe her, but as his eighteenth birthday and thus his coronation grows closer, he still doesn't even know what he's supposed to be believing in.

a few weeks shy of his coronation, thalia asks him to meet her at the beach three days before the big day. he never expects her visits, them being few and far between, so her setting a schedule was a surprise to him. he worries about being caught, with their father doubling down on security as the coronation draws closer. she insists though, and jason yields. three days before his coronation, he sneaks out to go to the beach, but she isn't there.

he walks around for a little while, trying to look for her, and for a second he worries that she was caught by someone while she was waiting for him. before he can begin to freak out, he hears a low hum in the distance. he walks around the beach, by the rocks, and decides to try the cliff to find the source of it. by the time the cliff is in view, the humming starts to sound like a baritone song. his mind doesn't think to question it, doesn't recognize anything amiss, and before he realizes it he's running for the cliff's edge and he's staring straight down into the sea.

when he wakes up, it takes his hearing a while to come back, and the first thing he notices is the moon is still high in the sky.

"—lure him into the water, I didn't want you to make him jump off a cliff!"

that voice sounds like thalia, jason thought, the first coherent thing he's conceptualized in a while.

"I can't help where he goes, I just tell him to go!"

that sounds like the voice he heard before he jumped.

"hey, he's awake."

that voice sounds... hot.

jason's eyes open to a black-haired, olive-skinned boy with a jawline that could cut fucking glass. he mumbles groggily, "Did I die?"

Hot Guy smiles like jason told him a half-funny joke, "Why do you think you did?"

jason groaned like he was both in pain and was immensely tired. "You look like an angel."

that was definitely not the answer Hot Guy expected, because he immediately flushes red and sputters. jason's eyes focus behind the Hot Guy and sees thalia wolf whistling at him, and a fucking siren with a long sea-green tail bursting into laughter. "You're not dead Jay," thalia says, "but we're definitely very far from home."

(more under the cut. like a lot more.)

apparently, his beloved sister became a fucking pirate after running away. jumping from ship to ship, she’d been gaining a reputation for herself before pledging her loyalty to one of the most formidable pirate crews on the seven seas (and the only one that's all-female). the 'plan' she'd had, that she'd foreshadowed for almost years, was just to get her half-siren friend percy (who can apparently go from siren to human form at will, which jason thinks is awesome) to lure jason into the sea where they could get him.

jason politely admits that it sounds super stupid. thalia does agree, but enforces the fact that it did work.

the ship jason is currently on is apparently, percy's. he's the captain of a crew of five, six if you include him, named hazel, frank, leo, piper and annabeth. thalia just likes to visit sometimes.

they're tiny, and they're all very young, but jason's doubts about their capabilities vanish once percy tells him that people call them the six. jason's heard of them, obviously— his father has been trying to catch them for months now. his father was already furious knowing he wasn't able to capture a crew so small in size, imagine what would happen if he found out the oldest one of all of them is nineteen.

jason, on his first few days on the ship, feels numb. thalia had percy set him up in the med bay, at the back of the ship where the only thing he can hear is the crash of water. he thinks about his kingdom, his father— what was he going to do without an heir? what was the kingdom going to do without a king? he feels relieved, he feels guilty, he feels like he's failing the one thing he was born to do and feels like he has a chance to pick what he wants to do.

jason closes his eyes, thinking, and doesn't notice someone had come in until a cold hand lays on his forehead. he jolts his eyes open and it's nico, the Hot Guy who was with thalia and percy. nico tells him he was just checking jason's temperature and he turns to leave, but jason stops him and asks him to stay. there was "no" already on the tip of his tongue, but jason didn't stand for it. nico desisted, only to wonder why jason was so adamant about making him stay.

jason asks why percy didn't call him a part of the crew. hesitantly, nico tells him it's because he isn't. he's not an official pirate of any crew, and instead runs around ship to ship and coast to coast, either striking deals with the more reasonable pirates or taking out crews of them all on his own.

jason asks him why he keeps moving around like that. as a short answer, nico tells him it's for his father's work. jason feels like there's more to it than that, but he doesn't push.

the medicine thalia insisted he take was making him a little loopy. he barely recalls what he was saying, but apparently it was stupid enough to make nico laugh and respectful enough to make him stay. the medicine doesn't make him too loopy for very long, just a few hours, but the next night when jason found himself wanting company again, he played stupid so nico would stay with him.

(hazel, nico's half sister and apparently the only reason he sometimes travels with their ship for a few days, was the one in charge of taking care of him while he was forcefully bedridden. he realized she knew what he was doing when all three of them were talking one day and she gave him a thumbs-up behind nico's back.)

nico leaves once jason's off bed rest. he asks hazel whether or not she knows when they're gonna pick him up again, and she tells him the week and a half he was there with them was actually the longest time he's ever stayed.

he keeps asking for a while after nico's left. after four weeks, he stops asking.

six months later, they pick nico up again at a bustling port. it's also the same port where jason decides to leave.

jason spends the first night off the ship in a warm little inn, but he doesn't sleep. he thinks he really should sleep more when he didn't realize a fucking intruder got into his room until he heard the soft thump of their feet on the floor. he gets into a melee battle with the black-hooded figure, still quick on his feet even though he hasn't slept in weeks, but eventually the intruder has him pinned down to the nearest flat surface. jason almost bites them before the figure rips off their mask to reveal— it's just nico.

somehow, they end up sitting on the roof of the inn, sharing a bottle of wine nico denies he stole but jason absolutely knew he did.

nico asks jason why he decided to leave the crew, even after getting so irreversibly close with all of them— which he knows jason did.

jason answers that by telling him about his kingdom, back across at least three seas by now. he tells nico about how the town square shines gold almost all hours of the day and glows even at twilight, but the further you get from the kingdom gates the more you see filthy alleys and dirty children. he tells nico about the times he'd go into town in disguise and see how many horrendous things are happening, then eavesdrop on council meetings and figure out why.

he also tells nico about his father, and he keeps it as brief as he can but nico understands what he means.

he tells nico he has to go back, get his kingdom and his crown no matter what chaos he knows would've erupted. he thinks of the councilmen, of dukes and lords he knows will be doing anything for a chance at the throne, now that the crown prince is missing. he tells nico about them, then he tells nico about his people, and he doesn't need to tell nico the rest to know he gets it.

nico still asks why he has to be the one to go back, when on the sea he has percy, piper, leo, thalia, freedom. in return, jason asks why nico is always running.

because i have to, is the answer to both their questions. maybe i'm wrong, but i think i have to.

three days later, after additional goodbyes and promises to write, they start a journey back to jason's kingdom. jason tells nico he shouldn't come, that it'll be a journey of peril that won't get any easier when they do get to the kingdom— nico just glares at him and continues to pack two horses even more aggressively. jason relents.

so now it's just the two of them, both running back and running away, but at least this time they've got a friend.

[itsblissfuloblivion]

Torch - Chapter 7: March

we’re back! and we love this chapter so so much because it’s fluffy and aaaaah, we’re getting THERE, aren’t we, folks!

read at leisure on Ao3 and FFnet

.

After Ron’s dung heap of a birthday, Harry really is inclined to feel sorry for his best mate and definitely to be grateful he’s not dead - in that way he’ll probably never actually say without a few belts of firewhiskey and maybe a bit of Veritaserum.  And not because of any macho preening idiocy but just because Harry’s not particularly a fan of sharing feelings with anyone . If he can blame the Dursleys for anything…

It’s all beside the point though - Ron’s his stupid best mate and he’s glad he’s still alive to fill the role but the whole post-poisoning drama is driving Harry batty. First, the decrease in Ron in Harry’s daily life has been replaced by the obnoxia of McLaggen’s repeated and increasingly detailed pleas, arguments, and demands to take his ‘rightful’ place as Gryffindor’s Keeper. Which is grating enough without ‘Lav-Lav’ attempting to supplement her boyfriend’s usual emotional support with Harry’s admittedly reluctant and bare responses.

He’d maybe be willing to make an attempt at being moderately helpful or at least not rude , but between the conflicting stresses of classes, Quidditch, lessons with Dumbledore, and figuring out whatever the hell Malfoy’s up to - Harry’s patience is stretched quite thin.

Not only is everyone creating drama that really all comes back down to romance in one way or another, but Harry’s life remains woefully intense with none of the snogging related benefits. And his increasingly creative subconscious is a double edged sword in all of this - waking up in the aftermath is simultaneously disappointing and terrifying.

Who knows if he’s a sleep talker and who knows if Dean’s suddenly a light sleeper. One of these days he’s going to wake up with Dean and Seamus standing over him ready to beat Voldemort to offing him.

Which all leads to Harry stalking through the halls not unlike a certain former Potions Master and the comparison only puts Harry in a worse mood.

On one such stalk through the castle, he finds himself no longer alone in his brooding when Ginny slips up next to him as he breaches the entry hall and reaches the sunlit grounds.

She nudges him with her elbow and tilts her head back to drink in the warm afternoon. “So mysterious and brooding lately - half of Hogwarts thinks you’re secretly in love with Ron and the other half doesn’t give a shit who you fancy because they want to snog you ‘til their lips fall off.”

Harry grunts in response.

“That’s no way to respond to my update - mysterious only covers so much arsehole activity.”

Ginny comes to a halt as they reach the bank of the Great Lake and grips his arm. “What the - when are you going to stop acting like a jerk?”

Scowling, Harry drops into the swaying grasses and rips up a couple of handfuls by the roots. “Nobody’s making you hang about.”

“Your entire life is a distress signal at the mo’ Harry - I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you keep acting like a prat.”

“So I’m a prat now - you’re really tops at giving a pep talk, Ginny.”

Ginny’s satchel falls to the ground with a thud and she follows after, lying down in the grass at Harry’s side. He’s a bit thrown, honestly, because he really is acting like a prat, now that she mentions it. And though he doesn’t quite want to admit it aloud yet, Ginny’s well within her rights to storm off and have a brooding session of her own.  

Instead, she sighs and tucks her arms beneath her head. “I’ve learned your interest is best garnered with a few choice swipes at your carefully crafted view of yourself.”

Blowing out a deep breath, Harry mimics Ginny’s action and drops back to the grass, spring and freshness sharpening the air around him. It feels safe, being hidden away like this, and he finds the words spilling from his lips before he can stop or even consider the results.

“Everything’s just a bit shit lately. Not to make everything about me,” Harry pauses to shove Ginny when she snorts, “But between Ron almost dying in front of me and Lavender torturing me for information and Cormac being a cocky ass - ”

“Don’t get me started on that idiot,” Ginny mutters.

“And plus - well, I’m me.”

“So you must have some super secret something or other brewing alongside all this teen angst.”

“Of course.”

Harry pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and leaves his forearm draped over his eyes. “Plus when you’ve got your own internal frustration piling up about everything including fancying - ”

And right about there, his self-preservation instincts kick back in and he realizes he almost just moaned to Ginny about the trouble of fancying her secretly and as far as he knows about three years too late for some requited feelings.

Oh hell. Just add it to his angst pile of life.

It’s quiet for a beat or two between them as Harry’s sentence dies unfinished and Ginny probably contemplates dumping him in the Lake so the squid can end him once and for all. But when she does break the silence it’s with a low, steady voice. That voice he’s come to associate with so many feelings that sound like conflicts but just make up the mosaic that is Ginny Weasley. She’s a comfort, a friend, a tease, cheeky, kind, loyal, braver than most - and currently offering some sort of response he’s missed almost entirely.

“ - and anyway, I know it feels like you’re the only one with all these mixed up parts of your life crashing down around you,” her pinky brushes the side of his hand, “And you certainly have more drama than most - especially with Ron and Hermione for best mates - but you’re not weird or strange or broken. I think. Well, Mum says it’s just part of growing up.”

Harry hums. “You think she’s right?”

“Who would question Molly Weasley?”

“I’m the Boy Who Lived,” Harry chuckles.

“Not for long if you back talk Mum.”

____

Harry slumps into the 6th Year Boys’ Dorm and falls back against the door with a sigh which turns from completely dejected to mostly dejected and slightly relieved. “All alone?”

Ron grunts. “Aye - good thing. I’m still recovering.”

“My headache is definitely going to cut my Dean and Seamus clucking session patience,” Harry agrees as he deposits his things in his trunk. It’s a bit of a messy clean up but once the top drops down it’s out of sight and he honestly can’t summon up the motivation to give a rat’s arse. Especially with lingering daydreams of Ginny fawning over his prone body, wondering aloud why she chose Dean and let Harry nearly die without snogging him to death. And instead leaving him to the cold, cruel death by bludger.

When Harry emerges from daydream take two, Ron’s looking at him half expectant, half confused, and Harry decides to milk the head injury as long as possible. He’s paying the price with a splitting headache at the base of his skull so at this point excuses are earned. “Sorry mate, say it again? Brain’s still a bit wobbly.”

“Ah, hell with it. I dunno if I can take one more gossipy discussion of who’s dating who and whether they’re invested and if it’s long term and whatever other shit manages to come up.”

“At least you could fake sleeping through Lav Lav without Pomfrey thinking you’ve got narcolepsy.”

Ron snorts and pushes up on his elbows. “She’s a persistent thing, eh?”

Harry’s on a roll now and he can’t quite stop himself before his grumbles continue. “And then Dean can’t seem to decide between bragging like an asshole and whining like a little baby because Ginny doesn’t powder his bum.”

“She better not be anywhere near his bum,” Ron grunts, “Care for a game of chess? I could use a good violent outlet.”

Before Harry answers, Ron’s already crawling to the foot of his bed and rustling around for his beat up chess board. Soon enough he’s placing the chipped pieces on the squares while Harry lingers in the doorway. “Can I put on pajamas first?”

“Slip into something comfortable for me, Potter,” Ron says with a teasing wink. Harry grabs a pillow and tosses it in his face.  

“Stuff it.”

“You send me,” Ron moans dramatically, and when Harry slams the loo door behind him, Ron calls, “And bring something for a snack before you come over here.”

“Eff off, Ron.”

“I’m peckish and we all know you hoard food.”

When Harry reemerges from the bathroom he shoves his robes in with the rest of his dirty laundry and grabs a few handfuls of candy from his apparently not-so-secret stash. “What’s your poison.”

“Too bloody soon,” Ron laughs, snatching a licorice wand, “So Dean and Ginny? Anything while I was out of it?”

“She’ll be ticked at me if I act informant on her,” Harry says, gesturing one of his pawns forward.

Ron orders his pawn two spaces ahead and sighs, “Since when does she rank over best mate privileges?”

“I dunno - probably since I saw her bat bogey hex live and in person.”

“Baby.”

____

Harry’s heart nearly jumps out of its cage when he sneakily walks out of the Room of Requirement and is about to turn the first corner. 

“Ginny!” He mostly blurts out, hand over his heart and heaving. He surely wasn’t expecting to bump into anyone, let alone a lone, wandering Ginny Weasley.

She looks just as surprised, but mostly amused, a trait evident on all Weasleys. Even Percy on his better days.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. That bludger to the head must’ve done things to you, eh, Harry?”

Yes, but the grin on your face does a lot more and entirely different things to me, Harry’d like to say but doesn’t. Impromptu snogging in the corridors is frowned upon, he remembers with a slight cringe. Nothing in the world that can erase the memory of Ron’s red, angry face from his mind, though.

“I was only -”

But he stops mid-sentence. Can he tell her? Should he tell her about the cabinet and Malfoy and Snape? Ginny would never be flippant about it, right? Or would she?

To his great surprise, her cheeks start to redden all the way up to her forehead, her deep brown eyes suddenly averting his gaze.

“Did I - erm, did I interrupt...anything?” Ginny stammers, teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

“What?” Harry’s gaze blurs out for a moment before something akin to horror washes over him. “No, no, no! Nothing like that! It’s - erm, it’s Dumbledore, really. New task from Dumbledore, yeah. That’s right, a new and insanely difficult new task from Dumbledore that I cannot and will not speak about.”

Harry finds himself panting at the end of his little speech, cold sweat dripping from his temples to his armpits as Ginny stares at him and blinks before that warm, hearty laughter erupts from her throat and she doubles over. On his part, well, Harry’s never wanted anything more than to simply disappear from the face of the earth. Poof , and all his troubles would go away.

“Didn’t mean to laugh,” she apologises, fingers wiping small tears from under her eyelids.

“No, no, by all means knock yourself out.”

Harry really tries to sound dignified. He pushes his round specs back onto his nose, combs his wild hair with one hand and tugs at the creases in his robe with the other, suddenly very much self-aware.

“Oh, wow. That was something,” Ginny finally seems to recover, her back leaning against the cold stone wall. “Honestly, Harry, if you were there alone or with someone -”

Please don’t say something even remotely...suggesting.

“ - doing whatever everyone is doing, it’s completely alright, really. Despite what Ron was preaching before he turned into a leech and became perpetually glued to Lavender’s lips,” she finishes her sentence with a bit of a frown and Harry feels like he’s about to faint.

The last thing he wants is for Ginny to think he’s fooling around with someone around the castle. Or even worse, that he’s - erm, doing it to himself and going to such great lengths to do so that he hides behind magic doors instead of casting Muffliato in the middle of the night like any other sane teenager.

“Thanks for the advice, Ginny, but it’s really not necessary.”

“Oh. Alright, then.”

She looks a bit forlorn and Harry realises he must have been a prat again.

“I don’t have anybody to snog in secret, I mean,” he quickly amends. Damn, that crease between her eyebrows truly throws him into guilt-trips like nothing else, eh?

Ginny’s lips stretch into a small smile, her eyes a little sheepish as she searches for his own. “You’re not missing out on much, promise.”

“I take it Dean isn’t as good as he brags, then?”

“He what ?”

“What’s said in the boys’ dorm must stay in the boys’ dorm.”

“Harry James Potter, you tell me what that git is saying about me to you lot right now, or -”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll tell Romilda Vane you confessed your love for her to me.”

“Ooh, that’s beneath the belt, Gin. Where’s the sportswoman in you?”

“I put her on hold. She’s not great with interrogation tactics.”

Ginny looks entirely too smug for her own good because Harry feels like leaning in and kissing her silly. In fact, at one point in their passionate banter they kind of, sort of inched closer to each other - otherwise, Harry has no idea how to explain the fact that she’s so close to him he can taste the sweetness of her breath.

They both glare at each other until one of them gives in and into laughter, the echo of their combined mirth reverberating throughout the corridors. But they don’t care, not much and not right now. 

Right now, they’re two teenagers having fun, enjoying each other’s company. Right now, they’re Harry and Ginny being normal and being friends.

Harry feels warm inside and smiles widely. Without knowing, without even realising, Ginny’s crept into his heart little by little until she’s come to mean more to him than he could ever find words to describe. He’s come to rely on her and that’s a lot to him.

“Honestly, Gin, if Dean’s giving you any trouble, just tell me and I promise I’ll take care of it,” Harry grins as they jump down the stairs two by two to the Great Hall.

“That’s very chivalrous of you, Harry.”

He can feel her roll her eyes though her tone stays amused.

“I won’t even tell Ron, promise.”

“You won’t have to. If anyone’s dumb enough to play me dirty, I’ll make sure everyone from the First Years to Moaning Myrtle finds out,” Ginny winks and Harry nearly misses a step. 

“That mostly renders your six brothers plus me useless, though,” he laughs, now more careful with the stairs. No need breaking his neck again when he’s only recently been dismissed from the hospital.

“Oh, no. Did mean ol’ Ginny threaten your masculinity?” She pouts as her finger jabs into his chest and Harry laughs.

“You have to turn everything into a competition, eh?”

“Absolutely. Also, last one at the dinner table is a smelly loser!” Ginny sticks out her tongue and darts away so fast Harry’s left blinking in her wake.

A great, big grin nestles on his face and Harry shakes his head before he pelts right after her, taking the steps four at a time and laughing as she splutters like an angry cat when he dashes ahead of her. He’s still the fastest runner and he’ll make sure that never changes. Seeing her slightly annoyed, mostly amused face, that competition loving flame in her eyes and that blazing, scorching look on her face - that alone gives Harry enough pleasure and charges him with enough courage he honestly feels like he can conquer death. 

____

Harry hopes the absolute best for his two best mates when he waves them goodbye to their Apparition lesson in Hogsmeade because, who knows, maybe they can really hold in the snappy banter and use their lips for something that’d shut them up for awhile once they actually start doing it. And also cut that sexual tension that’s been growing over the years right down to nil, Harry likes to tell himself.

Bumping into Tonks doesn’t help him either but merely charges him with renewed guilt. It’s hard enough waking up and realising there’s no Sirius and that there never will be, but to actually see people grieving...He knows he’s the only one to blame.

Not to mention his fourth lesson with Dumbledore and the brand new incursion into the life and times of Tom Riddle. Somehow it doesn’t get easier, no matter how many times he goes back into Riddle’s past, no matter how hard he tries to tell himself that if he’d only managed to understand him…

Harry feels something disgusting crawling underneath his skin after those lessons and he’s almost sure it’s not only in his head.

And Malfoy. And the Room of Requirement. 

And the Prince teaching him increasingly dangerous spells (even though he’d never admit he considers them dangerous for fear that Hermione might hear and go on her little ‘told you so’ routine).

So, just like a perfect cycle, Harry finds himself finishing the first month of Spring precisely like he started it: drowning in a right well of angst and being broody. Right until a fuming Ginny slams the door to his compartment, that is.

“What’s got your pants in a twist?” Harry raises one eyebrow as his eyes follow Ginny from behind round specs. She sways for a moment in the middle of the compartment, leaning into the movements of the fast running train, before she decides to plop down, frowning and pouting opposite him.

Ginny simply grunts in response and Harry knows it’d be useless to push her. She’ll tell him when she’s ready anyway and he’s got a nasty feeling it’s got to do with Dean. 

Maybe it isn’t the best option to find out right now - he might stroll into Dean’s compartment and casually strangle him if indeed it was him who upset her, Harry privately reckons. 

“You never told me how a toaster works,” Ginny says after a beat, her eyes glued to the green outside the window. “Care to explain now?”

Harry poorly muffles a chuckle with a fake coughing fit and dives right into explaining the intricacies of obtaining fresh toast the Muggle way. Fortunately, it keeps them occupied for more than he’d hoped and it’s really nice talking to her like that.

But when her questions start spiralling towards more technical stuff than Harry’s ever known or even dreamed of knowing, he simply starts making things up, one more ridiculously fantastic than the other. Obviously, Ginny’s no fool as her aha s and oh really s sound dryer and dryer.

At least they share a good laugh when Ron and Hermione return from their Prefect duties and Ron, being his father’s son, is suddenly gullible enough to believe there are actual little people hiding inside a TV playing the same movie over and over again “like actors in a play.”

The compartment shakes with their laughter as the train rolls out of Scotland and Harry feels so much lighter, almost happy sitting there with the four people he cares most about in the world.

Quite frankly, Easter at the Burrow sounds pretty good to Harry now and, if he’s being entirely honest, he can already smell Mrs Weasley’s treacle tart and shepherd's pie warm and waiting for them on the old wooden table.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Why? ~ F.W. (part 5)

A/n: I really love this series guys. Like UGH okay that's all continue on.

Word Count: 5500+

MASTERLIST

I avoided everyone for a while. I just needed some space... and I was terrified they all hated me. It was a soft ignore. If they sought me out, called my name, I'd recognize it. In the hallway though, I passed by them like I didn't know them. Took different turns if we were headed in the same direction too long. Hermione, Ron, Percy, George, Lee, Harry- even Fred. Sam and Beth weren't letting me get away with ignoring them, they cut that off the first day. Told me they didn't care who my dad was, they knew who I was. And that was that. One day Harry had called after me. I'd turned and he'd waved. I'd waved back. Though he was alone that day, he was with Ron and Hermione every time I saw him after, so I still avoided him in order to avoid them. I figured we were fine though. I knew Harry was as fine with my lineage as Sam and Beth were.

The opinion I cared about most was Fred's. He seemed to be ignoring me as well. That was the stab that got me. The blade that buried hilt deep and hurt right where I was vulnerable. I hadn't seen Cedric again yet for our weekend study session so I didn't know if he knew or how he felt about it if he did. The same went for Luna. I wondered if my friends list had just sunk down to three people.

I wasn't eating well either. It was a coping mechanism of sort, not eating. I used to do it a lot at the orphanage when I was upset. Choosing not to eat gave me something to be in control of. It made me feel the boss of myself again. Hunger had become a reassuring feeling. It meant I was still the boss of myself in the very least.

Now it just seemed to worry my friends.

One day Sam shot to his feet. "I'm done with this." He's spent the last ten minutes trying to talk me into eating something. Anything. He had finally given up. As he walked away I looked at the plate of food Sam had made for me. On top of everything else, people had started to pass around the word about how my dad was, and next to no one was reacting well. People had begun to call me only by my last name, slamming into my shoulder, tripping me in the hallway, sneering my surname with nasty looks like it was a curse that would punish me for something I'd never done. Malfoy was the worst. I got no break, the blonde hovering around me and taunting me every chance he got. It was getting to me.

I thought Sam had ditched me out of anger, finally reserved to no longer be my friend. Howerver, he returned moments later with none other than Fred Weasley at his side. My eyes widened as he brought the Gryffindor to where I was sitting, motioning to his free spot. "Fix her." The Slytherin that had been on the other side of Sam than me went to move into the spot to prevent Fred but Sam drew closer, nearly spitting. "Move." The boy glared at him and then Fred and then me but moved, allowing Fred to sit down. The redhead sat.

He looked at me for a few seconds. "Liv." I moved my eyes to my plate. "Sam told me you're not eating." I didn't respond. He scooted closer. Someone coughed. He sighed. "Come on." He grabbed an apple and then stood, offering his hand. I looked at him and then sighed, taking it. He pulled me to my feet. I thought he'd drop my hand once we were walking but he actually interlaced our fingers. I hoped I wasn't blushing as I felt my face burn.

People watched us as he gently pulled me into the hallway and away from any watching eyes. When he was satisfied with a little corner, he guided me into it and then stood in front of me. I was in a dip in the wall where there may have been a statue or a suit of armor or maybe something else. But now the place was empty and with him in front of me, I was trapped. He placed his hand on the wall above him, leaning close. For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to kiss me. But he stopped moving when we were a few inches apart, holding the apple I'd forgotten he'd grabbed earlier. "Eat."

I glared. "Fred-"

He leaned closer now, leaving a lingering kiss on my forehead. I froze. He moved again to rest his forehead against mine. "You know I don't care about what they say. Even if it's true. Even if your dad is Sirius Black. I don't care." He paused and I felt a lot of sudden emotions. "You're not him. And you're who I care about. You're the one that matters."

I leaned away to look at him. I was trying to see if he was lying and in the act of doing so, was shocked with how honestly he was looking at me. "You don't hate me?"

He shook his head. "I couldn't even if I wanted to."

I felt a rush of relief. Stronger than even with Harry. I wondered if it was because I was closer to Fred. Maybe. But I hadn't been this relieved when Beth and Sam hadn't hated me. This was an entirely different relief. I wondered about it. It confused me. "You're important to me too." My hands reached out for him, hovering in front of his robes. I looked at them, my hands, wondering what they were doing. He followed my gaze, noticing then reaching but not touching. He grabbed them, pulling my fingers to press against his lips. "But I... it's hard. It's hard to be here, Freddie." I hated crying but I felt myself welling up yet again. He moved nearer, pressing me against the wall. He was warm but I loved the feeling of him so close to me. "It hasn't even been long since they knew and it's already absolute Hell. I don't know who's bothered by it and who isn't. I don't know who's my friend and who's now my enemy. I can't take the name calling and the getting pushed around and I'm supposed to be this strong Slytherin who makes everyone stop with just a look but the only thing I know how to do is not react to it. And it works, it works, but then someone else pops up after the last people stop and I have to endure it all over again. It's exhausting."

He rose a hand, his thumb brushing away the one tear that had fallen. I sniffed. I felt silly and weak so I pressed my eyes closed. His nose brushed my cheek. I was instantly aware of how close that put his lips to mine. On instinct I tensed up, gasping, and leaning away just a little. My mind was suddenly racing. "May I hug you?" His voice sounded hoarse and I wondered if I was wrong about him nearly kissing me so many times in a row. It only occurred to me now if I even wanted him to. I just nodded. He held me in a way that made me feel comfortable and safe at the same time. He was just a bit taller than me, the top of my head reaching his lips. He breathed through his nose, every exhale filtering through my hair. It felt good, being with him like this. "You always have me, Liv. If you ever need someone to turn to or somewhere to run. You'll always have me. I promise. No matter what."

I relaxed completely, feeling as if I'd ben holding my breath for the last few days straight. None of it mattered now. Everything was fine.

-

I was excited for Care of Magical Creatures before Draco ruined it like the little twat he is. I was goofing off with Sam and Beth when the class had started. Hardy got picked (he was the only who didn't step back but that was because he was being oblivious. Should I have done something? Probably. Did I? No... Oops.) to approach the Hypogriff. He bowed. It bowed back. He smiled. We applauded. Hagrid forced him on its back and they took off. The rest of the class was left waiting. It was a lot longer time than I'd thought it would have been. I wondered if maybe he'd gotten lost or hurt. People began to sit down.

"Excuse me a moment," I told my friends, noticing Neville's messed up robes. Sam saw me itching to leave the Slytherin pack and got to his feet, brushing off his robes. He asked me to introduce them to my Gryffindor friends. I was pleasantly surprised. They came with me as I approached Neville. "Hey Nev-" he jumped, turning around. His eyes widened. I wondered if it was the three Slytherins in front of him or just me that startled him so much. Or both. None of those options made me feel good. "I just... wanted to offer some mending? I know how to. For your cloak I mean. Since it got... messed up." I tried for a friendly smile.

He relaxed, seeming ready to answer when a cool, sneering voice interrupted him. The sound of it hardened me and as I turned around, my soft gaze turned to one of an angry glare. "Fix them? Fix them with a curse maybe."

"Do you ever get tired of being an arsehole, Malfoy, or do you thrive off of people hating you?"

He seemed almost impressed with my quick response. He folded his arms over his chest, mirroring my stance. "What, have you become the protector of every Gryffindor now?" His eyes flickered to Sam and Beth. "Can't they fight their own fight?" He scoffed, eyes flickering to Neville as well. "At least keep your downfall to yourself. It's bad enough you're becoming the worst Slytherin to ever come to Hogwarts, don't make it worse by dragging others down with you."

"She's not dragging anyone," Sam snapped. I stood straighter as he supported me. "And just because she's got any decency doesn't mean she's not a Slytherin. I'd say she's an even better Slytherin than a pissy lot like you." I smirked, loving the rush of having a Slytherin have my back after being torn down by people who were supposed to be like my family.

Malfoy sneered, "You-" but got cut off, stepping away as I felt something behind me. Someone. A presence. I didn't feel intimidated though, it was comforting. Malfoy scoffed and retreated.

Harry returned and all of our attention was pulled away, but not before I noticed that all of the Gryffindors I'd ever talked to had stepped up. Ron, Hermione- even Neville. With six against Malfoy, even his two thugs having his back didn't make him feel better, especially facing three of his own house. It was a pleasant moment. We were all encouraged to go forward and we were plenty eager to, if nervous. Beth, Sam and I moved with Neville to one on the end. It was Sam who lead us through and I enjoyed having him want to be friends him the skiddish boy. After a few attempts, I nudged Sam. "You give it a try. Help him out."

Sam smiled and did as I suggested, doing it himself to show Neville what to do. Telling him to calm down and be confident and friendly. Neville finally got the hippogriff to bow back and he approached, patting. Beth was next. Hers was even easier than Sam's try. Just as I was stepping forward to give it a go, there was commotion. Every student looked over to see Buckbeak rear up and stamp toward a frightened Malfoy who faltered and fell. Hagrid fought him back and then approached the screeching boy on the floor, picking him up with ease and reassuring him as he took him to the Hospital Wing, Hermione holding the door open for him.

We all paused before slowly following after as Harry began to move forward, Ron at his side a second before Hermione was. The entire class merged, which only allowed for discourse.

"They should fire him straight away!" Pansy Parkinson hollered. I wondered how real her tears actually were.

Dean Thomas argued a, "It was Malfoy's fault!" as I scoffed.

Pansy glared at me. "You upset him you know. Got him all wound up. It's YOUR fault."

"If he learned how to keep his mouth shut and do what he was told or at all be respectful of anyone but himself, he wouldn't have gotten backbite from me or Buckbeak. He deserved what he got." I stood straight against her accusation. Unwavering. Facing untruths were easy.

She looked ready to sink her teeth into my neck before we reached the school. "I'm going to go see if he's okay. You're not worth my time." And she ran after Hagrid. We all watched her for a moment before houses split, Gryffindors heading to their tower and Slytherins heading to the dungeons. Sam was at my side the whole time, laughing and joking and nudging me- no matter how dark the glares of our fellow green and silvers got. We were laughing too hard to care.

"Do you think Malfoy will be okay?" Beth asked at one point.

I nodded. "Of course he will be. Madame Pompfrey is wicked good with healing people, and really he isn't ACTUALLY hurt. He's just being a drama queen." She nodded and that was the end of it.

-

Harry cornered me on the way to Potions. "He's getting close."

The way he looked at me, I didn't even have to ask who he meant. "He can’t be that close."

Harry shrugged. "He's not exactly FAR." I frowned and he sighed. "I don't know I thought you should know."

I grabbed his arm as he went to leave. "Harry, would be really come here? With so many Dementors? Surely not..."

He paused for a moment and then gave me a defeated look. I felt he was more concerned for me than himself. "He's gotten past them before." Another pause. "Don't read today’s paper, yeah? Or any at all." I nodded, but we both knew that it wouldn't take me reading the paper for me to find out about this. He wanted me to be prepared. THAT'S why he told me. Prepared for what Malfoy or anyone else might whisper or yell or accuse me of. We parted ways and I was thankful yet again to have a friend like him.

-

"How is it, Draco? Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah..." Malfoy's face was one that begged pity as if he'd gone through something terrible. Pansy was, of course, only too eager to deliver. I rolled my eyes for the millionth time. Neville reaches over and patted the back of my hand.

Neville was the only one who was keeping me back while Malfoy went off, being annoying and milking every second to torture Harry and Ron. I somehow managed to stay quiet, glad I'd picked another year to pair up with soothing Neville who was used to holding his tongue. I knew that I couldn't go up against everything that bothered me. I knew I couldn't snap at a teacher every time Snape was irritating. I knew I couldn't wring Malfoy out like a wet rag every time he got on my nerves. I knew I couldn't fight every battle- especially ones that weren't mine. So I let it go, struggling every second to do so. The battle I chose to face instead was to help Neville from getting attacked by Snape. That was up to me because Neville really was a disaster in potions. Even with my help, Snape made him incredibly nervous, which made him do even worse. I had to correct nearly everything he was helping me do. I couldn't do it all alone though. Even if it wouldn't have set Snape off, there was too much to do and not enough time. "I need you to breathe Neville, okay? Just focus on cutting the last of those roots- we're almost done. You're doing wonderfully. If we do this right, Snape won't be able to poke at you about it." The potion was a little darker green than it was supposed to be and I swallowed my nerves.

"All your ingredients should be in by now. Step away to let them cook. It'll take some time. After they're done we'll try Mr. Longbottom's." I glared at the pot instead of at him.

When we finished, we stepped away and I walked Neville to the fountain to wash our hands, reassuring him softly that everything was fine. I wondered how aware Snape was that I'd not only done my own potion but helped Neville as well, Hermione working to try and give us signals when he wasn't looking.

When he called us to gather and tested the potion on Neville's toad. It worked and the Gryffindors congratulates Neville but Snape looked most displeased. I was glad I'd helped, because Trevor meant the world to Neville and if he had died because Snape was being cruel, Neville never would have forgiven himself.

"Five points from Gryffindor. Granger, I told you not to help him."

"She didn't, Professor, I did." Hermione hit me but I ignored her. I wouldn't let my friends take the fall this time. I stared him down, daring him to take points from me.

"Ten points from Gryffindor then." I flared and he nearly smiled. The snake. "And five from Slytherin." Every Slytherin glared daggers at me. "Likewise, because you so proudly disobey me, you'll be given a week's detention. For every time you disobey me from now, you'll get detention again with another week added. In case you don't understand simple math, BLACK-" he said my name like it was a curse, taking steps toward me as he spoke. People parted with ease, not willing to get between a teacher. Even Harry stepped aside. I was glad of it. "That means the next time you go out of your way to be disruptive you'll have two weeks. The next, three. The next, four. And so on the more you do it. Do I make myself clear?"

I stood up as straight I could. "Perfectly."

Class ended on that note.

I booked it out of the classroom, only pausing to grab my things, giving Neville a moment to thank me. "You don't have to help me anymore. I don't want you to get in trouble."

I looked at him for a moment. "You're my friend, Neville. No one hurts my friends. No one scares and pushes around my friends. No one abuses their powers to make my friends feel small and bad like he does to you. No one. Not ever. Not while I'm still breathing."

He looked to be both worried and admiring. "But you'll get in trouble."

I smiled warmly. "I don't mind detention. Keeps me out of the common room." He didn't seem pleased about that but I left before he could ask why I'd be avoiding my own common room. I’m sure he could deduce it himself easily enough anyway.

-

Defense Against the Dark Arts was better. I rested my chin on the desk, keeping my eyes closed for a moment. I was exhausted and had sat by a few Gryffindors since Sam and Beth had only two seats at the table they were sat at. I ended up next to Hermione, Dean and Seamus next to Ron and Harry who were behind us. Neville and a Gryffindor I didn't recognize were on the other side. Since Hermione and I were in the front I was allowed a moment of peace and quiet, blocked from the other Slytherins. Just for a moment.

Lupin finally joined us. I peeked up when he came in. He wished us a good morning then told us to put our things away - other students had taken theirs out - and said we'd only need our wands. A practical lesson he said. Then he encouraged us to follow him and, curious, we did.

We had a little encounter with Peeves where I came to adore Lupin even more as he seemed to enjoy Peeves' tendency to be outspoken and bitter towards everyone. The poltergeist blew a raspberry and the professor laughed. I smiled as well. Peeves was shoving gum into a lock and Lupin reversed it with a spell that sent it flying out, taking the opportunity to teach it to us in the most friendly, pleasant way I'd been taught anything.

"Cool, sir!" Dean gushed, awed.

"Thank you, Dean," Lupin returned. We continued. He took us to an empty room I didn't quite recognize. I did, however, realize the room was not as empty as I'd first thought when I spotted Snape of all people. My expression, light, turned into a hard glare again. The oily, black-clad Professor stood to leave the room.

Before he went, he remarked snidely, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger or Miss Black are hissing instructions in his ear." His eyes met mine, gaze narrowing when he took in my glare. Lupin noticed immediately. "Speaking of Miss Black, she tends to enjoy making a fool of herself and mouthing off to teachers. Never knows when to keep her mouth quiet. I assume she gets it from her father."

A terrible feeling rose in me and the room grew deadly silent, even the Slytherins holding their breath. He walked past me and I stood, frozen stiff like I was a sculpture, turning my head slightly so no one could see my eyes full of tears. I stared at a light, blinking rapidly to try and make them go away. I knew that Neville would be upset but I hoped Hermione would take this one. My hands were fists at my sides.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me in the first stage of the operation," Lupin chimed in calmly. I looked over at him, lips parted in shock. The only change from before to now was that he had raised an eyebrow. "And I am sure he will perform it admirably." Snape looked even angrier at Lupin's reaction. It filled me with great satisfaction. When he was gone, I turned to see Neville's face as red as a tomato. Hermione had indeed taken charge, patting him on the shoulder. Someone's hand nudged mine and I looked over to see Harry. He silently looked at me, a little worried. I smiled weakly in return.

After? he mouthed to me. I nodded.

"Now then," Lupin said, grabbing our attention once more. He guided us to a wardrobe at the back of the room. Something inside banged against the side viciously- we all jumped. "Nothing to worry about. There's only a boggart in there." Some people seemed pretty anxious about that, despite the teacher's words. "Bogarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap underneath beds, the cupboard under sinks- I've even met one that lodged itself in a Grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to five my third year's some practice." Oh him. Him I liked. He asked us what a Boggart was. Of course, Hermione answered.

"It's a shape-shifter. It can take the place of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

I swallowed. So that was why everyone looked about ready to be sick.

He continued on to explain it, saying the boggart hadn't taken form because it hadn't faced anyone yet and then getting Harry to vocally realize for us that it would have a hard time taking form if let out now since there were so many of us. That put me at ease. He then taught us the spell to fight Bogarts. I loved that there was always a spell for every creepy crawly we were introduced to. I loved Defense Against the Dark Arts. "After me, please," he encouraged. "riddikulus."

"Riddikulus," the class repeated together.

"Good," he approved. “But I'm afraid that was the easy part. You see, the word alone is not enough. This is where you come in, Neville." Neville stepped forward, shaking more than the wardrobe. "Right. First thing, what would you say is the one thing in the world that frightens you the most?"

Neville looked about ready to pass out. He didn't speak though his lips moved. Lupin encouraged him and we finally got a, "Professor Snape." He flinched, his eyes darting around like the Professor was going to pop out and attack him. Lupin laughed but I frowned. My heart felt heavy in my chest.

Lupin hummed. "Pressor Snape... Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Yes, but, uh, I don't want the Boggart to turn into her either," Neville rushed. A bit more laughter. I almost smiled, if not for the picture these words painted of his life in my mind.

"You misunderstand me." Lupin was smiling. It set me a little at ease. "What kinds of clothes does your grandmother wear?" Neville began to explain but Lupin cut him off after a second. "No, I don't need you to say it out loud. But can you picture it clearly, in your mind?" Neville nodded, still looking confused. "When the Boggart bursts out of the wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape. And you will raise your wand and yell, Riddikulus! Concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes." Neville swallowed. "Do you trust me?" The two looked at each other for a moment before Neville nodded. Lupin's smile became even warmer. It made him look younger, near the age I assumed he really was. "If Neville is successful, the boggart will turn its attention to a new person. Everyone line up." We all did, beginning behind Neville a little to give him room. Lupin moved to the wardrobe. "Everyone ready?" Some nodded, but most looked absolutely terrified. "On the count of three. One. Two. NOW!" He opened it and out came Professor Snape, leaning against the side of the open door, slinking out. It was so perfectly Snape that my face turned dark and hateful. Angry.

With Lupin's encouragement, Neville raised his wand. "Riddikulus!" Snape stumbled back, now wearing clothes that had us all laughing.

"Pavarti!" Lupin called. A girl stepped forward. I filed her name and face into my memory so I would remember.

Boggart Snape rounded on her as she stepped forward determinedly. There was a crack and where Snape had been before, there was now a snake. She paused, gulping, and then raised her wand. "Riddikulus!" The snake veered back, and it turned into a clown in a jack-in-the-box styled box, making us laugh again.

"Seamus!" roared Lupin, grinning widely.

Pavarti stepped back as Seamus darted forward, raising his wand already. The clown was gone with another loud crack, a woman with floor length black hair and a messed up face taking its place. A banshee. The woman opened her mouth and released a scream that hit me so hard I nearly collapsed. "Riddikulus!" Seamus shouted. The banshee gasped, clutching her throat- her voice was gone. Grins returned just as they had before. Lupin didn't have to yell since we were all in line, and Ron took that chance, taking a few steps forward before Lupin could think to call him. We were getting more confident. As he did so, another crack. Ron went pale, but he wasn't the only one- some others screamed. There stood a ginormous black widow spider. For a second it seemed Ron was stunned, but then he flicked his wand, crying, "Riddikulus!" The spider suddenly had roller skates on its feet, struggling to stay standing.

I was next. "Ylva!" Lupin called. I beamed, ready.

Another crack and I froze. I went completely still. My mind went blank and I didn't know what to do. What to say. How to move. I thought it would have been a dementor. Or a Death Eater. Maybe smaller me, dead. Anything, even something that showed my most vulnerable weaknesses and fears, would have been better than this.

My smile fell as none other than Sirius Black stared me in the eyes. All the joy and excitement I'd been feeling were gone and I wondered if there was a Dementor around before I realized that, no, I was just feeling absolute, rolling self hate. Fear. My father, in all his rags and tattoos and withered state, was face to face with me. He took one look at me and his face curled into one of disgust.

Ah yes, my worst fear.

Even a deranged madman like Sirius Black was disappointed to have someone like me as a daughter.

Harry was suddenly in front of me, blocking me from the Boggart. He rose his wand to be ready as there was a loud crack, but even before he could say anything, Lupin jumped out, spreading his arms wide and calling, "HERE!" Mid-transformation of what looked to almost be a Dementor became suddenly a full moon, peeking out behind gray clouds. Confusion hit me full in the face. Lupin raised his wand. "Riddikulus." It was calm. He was unbothered. I wondered why that was his fear if it didn't really seem to get him going at all. "Forward Neville, and finish him off!" Lupin called as the moon became a deflating balloon. As the balloon landed on the ground Neville jumped forth as it turned into Snape again. "Riddikulus!" he shouted. Facing someone who’d already defeated him, the Boggart struggled for a few seconds as Snape in a lacy dress before exploding into a bunch of little wisps of ribbons after Neville laughed extra loud at it. And so it was done.

"Excellent!" Cried Lupin as we all applauded. "Good job Neville- to everyone. Let's see... five points to each Gryffindor that tackled the Bogart, and five to Slytherin for Ylva stepping up as well." I looked at my feet. I hadn't done anything. "Ten points to Neville since he did it twice. Five points to Harry and Hermione each as well."

"But I didn't do anything, Professor," Harry pointed out. I grit my teeth.

"You and Hermione answered my question," Lupin argued lightly. "At the start of class." His smile was broad. "Now, everyone, read up on the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me... to be handed in on Monday. That will be all." The excited class left as Harry and I begin to walk out with our heads down. "Um, Ylva, will you please stay for a moment?" I reached out and grabbed Harry's wrist on instinct. Harry paused, ready to stay and have my back. "No need for Harry to stay, I just wish to talk to you?" He was warm and kind as always. It put me at ease. "Excellent consideration though, Harry, for putting yourself out there to help your friend. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you Ylva, to be here, now, with everything going on." I let Harry's arm go and we exchanged looks before I nodded, letting him know I'd be fine.

"Can I see you after school today?" He asked me. I nodded again. He left.

I turned to Lupin. "Professor, if you're going to give me a speech, I really don't-"

"No," Lupin interrupted. "I suppose that wouldn't help." I paused, unsure of what he wanted. "You know, in school, I knew Sirius. He was a friend of mine." My eyes went wide. He nodded. "I never heard a word of you..."

"He doesn't know," I explained. "My mum didn't want him to. Especially after what happened... well, I mean, I live in an orphanage."

Lupin seemed saddened by that. "I'm sorry."

"It's not so bad," I reassured. "I'm friends with Cedric Diggory, a sixth year Hufflepuff. He's... sort of taken me in. He and the Weasleys house me during the Summer. I'm really close with Fred and George Weasley- Fred especially."

Lupin's smile returned. "So Hogwarts has given you as much as it gave me when I was a student."

My hands fiddled with my robes a bit. "Professor... what house was my father in?"

He gave me a long look. "Gryffindor." I physically relaxed. He dropped it. "I tell you this because... I know how that feels. I remember how it felt for me. If you ever... need anything. You can talk to me. Always." He put his hands behind his back. "I'm glad you're my student. It's like having a bit of the good times back. I wish for you to have a good Hogwarts experience, as I did.”

I pondered that for a second. "I will remember that. Thank you, Professor." He nodded and then told me I could go and I did. I thought about on the train, just a while ago. About how I'd wondered if he'd last more than just this year. I didn't know if he would, but I was cheering for him. Hoping. I'd never liked a teacher as much as I liked him, and I suppose I never would.

-

Tag List: @reddie-steddie-go

[nevillelongsbottom]

double oh pairing: percy weasley/viktor krum word count: 1901 links: ao3 for @hogwartsonline february quidditch

“Don’t,” Percy says sharply, “be irresponsible this time, Krum. I rather prefer it that my things come back intact, as does the budget.”

“The budget goes far,” Krum shrugs. His English has come on leaps and bounds since joining MI6, a combination of lunch lessons with Percy and rather more intimate-sounding evening lessons with Granger (though Percy supposes he ought not speculate), but his accent remains thick and a little gruff. “It won’t mind.”

“I will,” Percy says. “And M will. And for the love of fuck, Krum, do not piss off M again, because some of us get the blame while you’re off shooting people in Mexico.” He probably sounds tighter than he means too, but Percy is tired, and Krum has just appeared yet again to empty his shelves of inventions and destroy his best handiwork. He’s threatening to move, too, which is only worsening his mood. Fuck Cornelius Fudge and the state of British politics: he’ll be lucky if he still has a job by the end of the year and hasn’t defected to criminal engineering. He will be luckier still if any of the new team being brought in in the proposed merger will have heard of a quartermaster.

“You should learn to shoot,” Krum offers. “Relieve the tension.”

“You are the source of my tension, Viktor.”

“I would rather not destroy your cars. But many other people do, and me in it.”

“Right. Yes. Just, please, try and require minimal repairs.”

Viktor grins, ruffling Percy’s hair, so in need of a haircut that it’s almost become a mullet. He’s been so busy trying to invent for this mission and fix up the car Viktor absolutely trashed that he hasn’t had much time to think about anything else; it’s really his priority that he keeps the agents as equipped as possible, more so than his own appearance, and definitely more so than his sleep.

“Minimal repairs,” Viktor promises. “I will try.”

“Just don’t be an idiot.”

Percy does not get his car back. The last time he sees it is on CCTV footage in Germany, being blown up, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he watches, hissing at the loss of his well-loved handiwork. He delegates more work to the Aston Martin he’s been keeping in the basement, and flies to Austria with M.

She doesn’t look pleased. Then again, she often doesn’t. Viktor jokes that it’s because she’s Scottish, which had made Percy almost belly laugh.

“He is an idiot,” she says, taking a rather long sip of the cocktail she’s drinking. It looks almost too colourful for her tastes, but Percy says nothing. He’s drinking orange juice. He oughtn’t judge. “How much trouble must one agent get into? Getting the eyes of an entire international crime organisation on us…”

“With a very non-ominous name,” Percy adds. Death Eaters. Honestly. How dramatic does crime have to get? They’re just MI6. Percy has been musing on alternative names for the organisation, but hasn’t come up with anything so far; it would make him feel better, though, about the fact that the danger to their headquarters is so great that they’re having to disperse. Having him and M on the same plane is risk enough, but McGonagall refuses to be completely babied, and also refuses to lose Percy, who is possibly one of their most important assets. And one who misses his cats.

“Criminals, Q, never miss an opportunity to fit a memento mori in their name.” (McGonagall likes to pretend she doesn’t know Percy’s name, but really, she used to be his English teacher; he still remembers sitting at the front of her class: at once a voice arose among / the bleak twigs overhead / in a full-hearted evensong / of joy illimited… He clicks his tongue. “You are aware of why we’re going to Austria, aren’t you?”

Percy, as much as he sometimes wishes he could be, is not stupid. “You want to retrieve Krum.”

“He’s an idiot. He’ll get us into even more shit. We need him back.”

Percy just cannot get over the sound of authority figures swearing, and flinches involuntarily. “And you insisted on having me on this flight just because you wanted to protect me.”

McGonagall smiles. “I may be getting on a little bit, Q, but I do remember the look of a boy in love.” She taps the side of her nose. “He’ll come back for you.”

“Are you suggesting he fancies me?”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course he does.”

“I am not being stupid. I am a little man with glasses who builds grenade pens for his amusement; he is a man who gets to fuck as many women as he wants on whatever exciting mission he gets to do, always involving very apparently sexy revolvers. Why on Earth would he fancy me?”

“Perhaps because you aren’t just part of a fleeting mission.”

“No. But I am a fleeting part of an organisation. How many Qs and Ms have there been before us? And how many will there be after?”

M sighs.

Percy has never been to Austria before. Unfortunately, he is not here to see the sights: he settles in a hotel room and is to await further orders. He doesn’t wait in the room, of course. He loads a pistol that he hopes not to use, tucks it away and under the cover of his blazer, and leaves to find a coffee shop.

There are plenty tourist trap coffee shops with laminated menus in multiple languages, but Percy opts for a minimally decorated and earthy shop that make him a hot chocolate that tastes like liquid heaven. He picks a busy enough one to make it a hassle trying to take him out, though. He, unlike field agents, has a sense of danger.

And also entirely unlike field agents, Percy has terrible perception.

“M has come for me,” Krum says, taking a seat on the stool at the other side of Percy’s table. “I’m sorry about the car. It was nice.”

“I’m glad you survived,” Percy says, “even if the car didn’t. You can tell M why the budget requires another fully customised automobile. Maybe you can even try and argue for a Rolls Royce this time.” He takes another sip of his chocolate, and regards Viktor carefully, perfectly poised on the distinctly too-small stool. “I get the distinct feeling that you don’t want to come back with us.”

“I have found,” Viktor says, leaning forwards. “A - what do you call it, you English speakers, a road, a path - a trail. I wish to follow it.”

“At what cost?” Percy asks, pursing his lips. “Your life instead of the car’s? MI6? Fudge is already looking to have us departmentalised.” He pauses as a waitress delivers a piping hot cup of coffee to their table. “You can do what you want, but - I would really appreciate it if you came back alive, and if M hadn’t bludgeoned me before then. She isn’t happy.”

“I know. She brought you.”

“I brought myself to shout at you about that bloody car.”

“As if.”

Percy has never been that good a liar, and he shifts back in his chair. He knows that Krum has figured it all out. Krum has been doing this a long time, and he’s the best for a reason. Percy is still considered the new quartermaster, a year into his tenure. Viktor may like him, but he’s not so sure many of the other agents do, yet. He rubs his temples.

“Please, for the love of God, don’t be an idiot.”

Viktor smiles. “No promises.”

“I’m not going to ask for my technology back. For the love of fuck, use those exploding pens if it means keeping you safe. Just - you come the fuck back, Krum. God knows we’re not going to manage without you. They’ll shut us down if you don’t come back.”

Percy watches Viktor go, and watches with a twinge of regret.

Percy stays in Austria a while, visiting the galleries and museums and hoping he doesn’t get shot in the back walking back from dinner. M is not happy with his avoidance of duties, but doesn’t complain too much save to make sure he’s sending orders back. Percy spends a good deal of his evenings drawing blueprints, too: for cars, gadgets, tiny phones. He goes back to that coffee shop a few times, waits for Viktor.

Of course, Viktor just breaks into his hotel room and finds a gun pointed to his head. Percy has never shot anyone before, but he has incredibly steady hands, a symbol of his status as inventor.

“I survive all this, and you’d shoot me?” Viktor asks, feigning offence.

“Fuck you,” Percy sighs. “Learn to knock.”

“It seemed urgent.”

“What’s urgent?” Percy asks, and Viktor smiles, touching his cheeks. Percy’s heart falters in his chest, and his lips part like the seven seas when Viktor kisses them.

This can only mean that this is it.

MI6 being allowed to remain as is unfortunately does not mean that Percy can move out of his underground bunker yet. Pissed off, he installs some ten thousand lux lights in the place that doesn’t half sink into the budget, and spends the next several months gearing up for the replacement 007. The process of replacement is a long one, he is told: the other 00s field the work, and he builds a whole new kit for someone whose status is entirely uncertain.

He is given adept warning and an arrival time for the new and apparently fairly awestruck 00, and doubles down on his efforts. He retrieves the Aston Martin from the sub-levels of the bunker, and adds so many features he thinks his hands are going to fall off by the time he’s done. He doesn’t usually do much of the manual work himself anymore, but this time, he insists. He wraps his fingers in bandages before the new agent arrives, hiding his callouses. He doesn’t think he should wear them with pride, unlike his brother in demolitions.

He’s a little surprised when the new 007 turns out to be a woman: not, of course, because she’s a woman - plenty of the others are - but because of her stature, short and a little stocky. He’s fairly sure he could knock her out, but wouldn’t try: her appearance obviously belies her true abilities. Her hair is buzzed short, and blonde.

“You must be Q,” she says, holding out her hand. “007.”

“Yes,” he says, shaking her hand. She almost breaks his knuckles. Percy feels as if this is a statement, but one that will go amiss, considering the amount of gadgets he has ready for her. “Do you have a name, or are you just a sequence of numbers?”

She smiles wirily. “Audrey. What about you? I’m guessing you’re not a one-letter mononym.”

“No,” he says. “I’m Percy. But it’d do you well to call me Q. It sounds better.”

“It does,” she admits, following him as he walks through the base.

“Now,” he says. “Ground rules. Listen to what I tell you. Bring things back in one piece, not as one piece. And, for the love of fuck, if you’re going to ignore those other two: don’t be an idiot.”

He gets the distinctive sense that he hasn’t followed his own advice very well. But Audrey doesn’t seem to mind.

[notesofarichlycolorednight]

but like if Diana was suddenly Alive, how would she react to Luke and Tori's relationship, both pre-war and during it?

hey, thanks for being so patient with me on this!

i had to flesh Diana’s character out a little more so i could get inside her head and think of how she might respond to Tori’s relationship with Luke

so without further ado, hcs below!

so Diana is suddenly just…like Alive, prolly the year that Percy comes to camp, let’s say (which means that Luke has already stolen the lightning bolt and helm of darkness, but it’s like mid-january, just for timeline reference)

she wakes up in a hospital, the doctors say she came out of a coma but she’s pretty sure she died

she can’t remember where she was during the interim, and the doctors can’t recall how she ended up in the hospital or who was even paying for her to remain on life-support for so long

whenever she asks, they stutter a response before going completely silent and getting a glazed look in their eyes for a few moments only to come out of it, smile, and change the subject

she’s discharged from the hospital after a abt a week (idk if that’s even realistic lol) of monitoring and recovery

and as she’s getting dressed, a million thoughts race through her head abt if she still has a place to live, if she has a hospital bill that will kill her again, where her children are

and once that thought pops into her head, that’s all she can think abt

so even with all those other worries she finishes dressing and jumps off the bed, heading straight to the front counter to check out

but she pauses when she sees a familiar-looking man flirting with the nurse at the desk

she wants to confront him immediately, but doesn’t want to look crazed in front of the nurse so she shoves him out of the way, interrupting their flirting session

“i’m Diana Williams, checking out, is there anything i need to do? sign?”

the nurse is miffed and has enough dignity to look ashamed for ignoring Diana before grabbing a clipboard and pen for Diana to sign, explaining info abt bills and the like

Diana can barely hear, she scans the paper and signs before handing the clipboard and pen back to the nurse

she turns to face the man then

it’s Apollo if you haven’t figured it out yet

he’s abt her age, with brown skin and hazel eyes, short curly brown hair but she knows its him, she’d be able to tell from a mile away

he opens his mouth to say smth, but she grabs his arm and pulls him outside

“where are my children?”

flashing sideways to Tori, she’s at camp, totally oblivious to what’s just happened, as is Dan (still not claimed btw)

the next day they’re called to the big house before breakfast with no explanation

Diana is waiting with Chiron, in his wheelchair form, in the front room

Diana’s always been good at making friends, so she’s chatting with Chiron easily and honestly he’s more uncomfortable abt this whole situation than Diana

the doors swings open and Dan comes in first, quickly followed by Tori

they both pause when they see their mom and Diana stands, flattening the wrinkles in her dress and smiling nervously at her children

Dan rushes forward and pulls her into a hug, tears flooding his eyes

Tori is still frozen at the door, afraid this is some cruel dream or hallucination

when Dan is done hugging Diana, he pulls back, keeping one of her hands in his and turns to face Tori, who is still frozen at the door

Diana smiles softly and holds out her free hand, and like two magnets, Tori’s hand raises and she slowly approaches Diana

when their hands meet, Tori breaks down into tears and Diana rushes forward to throw her arms around her daughter as they both sink to the floor

it’s harder for Tori than it is for Dan, bc she was there when their mom died

Tori is afraid to let go of Diana’s hand or lose sight of her bc she’s so afraid Diana might just disappear, revealing that this was indeed some weird dream or hallucination

they settle into the front room of the big house and talk to Chiron abt this whole situation

he knows as much as Diana, which is not much and the gods sure as hell aren’t saying anything

when Chiron brings up the fact that they could just be summer campers, Tori hesitates and Diana notices

Dan looks away, annoyed but doesn’t say anything as Diana asks Tori what’s wrong

Tori blushes and looks away but doesn’t say anything

Chiron excuses himself and asks Dan to accompany him to whatever task he’s just made up. Dan goes reluctantly

Diana takes Tori’s hands into hers and says, “someone special?”

despite how much fear fills her that she’s going to blink and Diana’s going to disappear, it’s amazing how easy it is for Tori to fall back into this relationship with her mom

“his name is Luke.” Tori mumbles. “i don’t even know if he likes me back, but…well we’ve grown close you know over…well, over sh-shared pain”

Diana doesn’t meet him then bc everything is still settling, with her being Alive again and all

Diana reluctantly goes home, but promises to IM them that night and tomorrow (Apollo’s provided her with some drachmas)

Tori’s claimed that night bc Apollo got a stern talking to after Diana found out he hadn’t claimed her yet

but Tori sneaks over to the Hermes cabin that night to talk to Luke abt this whole ordeal

he’s not sure what to think, honestly, but some small part of him is afraid he’ll lose her now that her mom is back. and it’s stupid and irrational, but he can’t help but feel that way

but he lets Tori decide if she wants to go home until the summer (she ends up deciding to stay bc she knows smth is up with Luke)

Dan leaves for home

Diana IMs Tori any chance she can get thru those months leading up to summer

bc of his irrational fears of losing Tori, Luke confesses his love for Tori sooner, when summer begins (rather than right before he leaves for Kronos’ cruise ship)

so when Diana visits to drop Dan off for the summer session, Luke meets Diana

tbh, Diana’s shocked when she sees Tori holding hands with a white boy but she hides it behind a smile as Tori and Luke walk down half-blood hill, outside the barrier

Luke is nervous af but he also hides it behind a smile

Dan says goodbye to his mom before heading up the hill, not wanting to be there for the meeting

Diana and Luke shake hands

she looks at Tori and says, “oh, he’s quite handsome for a white boy”

Tori stares at her mom and Luke jumps like he’s been shocked before his entire neck and face go red

“oh, and he’s sensitive too, that’s good” (and she means it; i’m not trying to make it sound like some kind of jab to his masculinity or whatever)

when it’s revealed that Luke was the lightning thief and he goes off to kronos’ cruise ship, leaving Tori at camp, Tori goes home for that winter

of course she tells Diana everything and Diana just wants to tell her that he’s trouble and Tori shouldn’t be with him anymore

but Diana can also see how heart-broken she is and doesn’t want to make it worse

until Tori decides she’s going to go find him and convince him to come back to camp that next summer

“you can’t save those who don’t want to be saved”

“you don’t know that he doesn’t! i have to at least try! i owe him that much”

Diana can tell how much Tori loves Luke, and she’d hate to take such a thing away from her, but Diana’s scared that Luke is going to get Tori hurt, right after they got each other back

she wants to tell Tori that sometimes love is just like that

she loved Apollo, still does, but had to let him go bc he’s a god

they have a bit of a falling out right before Tori goes to find Luke bc of this

Diana tries IM-ing Tori while she’s on the cruise ship but they aren’t going thru and Diana starts to worry

she contacts camp but Tantalus and Mr. D are no help; the only thing she can do is talk to Dan

she feels utterly helpless so she starts praying to Apollo; she’s not sure what good it will do, but she does it anyway bc all she wants is for her children to be safe

Tori IMs Diana when she decides that she can’t stay on the ship, and that maybe Luke doesn’t want to be saved after all

she’s sobbing as she tells her mom this, and although Diana is relieved to hear that Tori’s coming back, she comforts her daughter and avoids any “i told you so’s”

but then Tori is stabbed by Kelli

Diana finds out bc Tori IMs her the night that Luke trades his life for Tori’s

when Diana learns this, the cold realization dawns on her that this isn’t some summer fling that she’s seen all her friends have before

it’s not even akin to what she and Apollo share

Tori and Luke’s love for each other goes far deeper and is the type of love that can’t be expressed with words

and when she realizes this, dread fills her entire body and she feels the most helpless since this whole ordeal began

Apollo’s told her abt loves like those in greek mythology; during their late-night talks when they were together

but she never imagined one of her own children would have found smth like that; it’s almost cruel bc greek myths rarely had happy endings and she’s afraid that smth may happen to her daughter

she can’t sleep for days afterward, IM-ing Tori as much as possible just to see her tho she doesn’t know what to say

Diana knows now that there’s no convincing her daughter to come back home or to give up on Luke

she continues to pray to Apollo

one day, tired of feeling helpless she IMs Luke and to her surprise he answers

she’s angry as soon as she sees him, but she doesn’t precisely know why bc he saved her daughter’s life–his love is strong for Tori and that should mean smth to Diana, but it only makes her angrier

tears fill her eyes as she spits out, “you swear on the styx you will protect my daughter, no matter what, do you understand? you are not to let any harm come to her”

and bc he loves Tori, Luke swears

she hates him after that point, but she loves her daughter more

and as long as Luke keeps his promise, then there isn’t much else Diana can do

Tori makes sure not to tell Diana any details abt what goes on as the war ramps up

some small part of Diana wonders how Tori could love someone such as Luke

but she also wonders if she could ever fall in love like that and with someone like Luke--can she really blame Tori?

Tori goes home after the summer that tbol takes place and Diana is there with open arms, esp bc Tori is devastated that she’s lost Luke

some part of Diana feels like its her fault bc she made Luke swear on the styx to protect Tori

but another part knows that Luke would have with or without her prompting; she’d done it bc it was the only thing she felt she could control at the time

Diana avoids talking abt Luke too much, just lets Tori vent as much as she needs

being home allows Tori a much-needed break, and Diana tries to encourage Tori to find the strength to keep fighting (heavily implying Tori needs to find the strength to move on from Luke)

Diana tries to stop Tori from going back to camp that next year bc a war is coming, but Tori feels she’s responsible for letting it get that far and Diana doesn’t argue despite being scared sick that Tori may die

she begins to pray to Apollo again bc both Tori and Dan feel obligated to help chb in some way during the war

when it’s all over and Luke dies, some part of Diana is relieved

but seeing how badly Tori takes it evokes that same anger toward Luke

Tori clearly deeply loved him but with him gone, he broke her heart and his promise

and Diana resents him for that

some small part of her wishes that Tori had never fallen in love with him in the first place

he was nothing but trouble

well, almost

bc it was clear that he made Tori happy

and Diana wishes nothing more than for her children to be happy

i hope that’s kind of what you were looking for

thanks for sending this in!! ^_^

FEED ME SEYMOUR

[dyde21]

Soulmates

@mooshie05 Had submitted a request to me that had been bouncing around my head! Basically everyone has a soulmate, and before you meet them you share their physial pain. I tweaked it slightly to fit better with what I had in my head, I hope that’s okay! (Also because the idea of someone just bleeding randomly terrified me and brought far too many logistical problems for my tired butt to deal with.) Anyway, a little short but I hope you enjoy!

XxXxXxXxX

Annabeth was pretty sure that if she wouldn't absolutely love her soul mate, she'd hate him. Clearly the whatever God there was must have had a sense of humor when designing their world. Yes, everyone in the world was born with a soulmate. Someone who'd be your other half, someone you'd live happily with as long as no accidents happened. Someone who could quiet your demons, and stoke your flames. Someone that would show you home wasn't a place, but a person. Sounds wonderful, right? The only problem was the first way you learned about them was through pain. Yes, before someone met their soulmate they had a connection. Unfortunately it wasn't some romantic longing or feeling. No, it was whenever your partner was bruised, cut, scarred or injured, you would feel a ghost of their pain.

Most of the time it wasn't that big of a deal. Occasionally there'd be some pain, enough to make you worry about them, and feel relieved when they healed knowing they were out there somewhere living their life.

Of course sometimes the worst happened. A soulmate died before you ever met them, or was in a horrible accident. It was an utterly tragic event, and physical pain aside, the emotional pain crippled a person. Years of therapy were often required to help the person cope with the loss of an unknown half of their being, and sometimes they never recovered. Luckily it wasn't as common as it could be thankfully.

It was something most people feared, but for some reason Annabeth didn't really fear that.

No, her soulmate seemed so determined to find ways to hurt himself, he was clearly to stubborn to die. She knew absolutely nothing about him, other than the fact he was clearly living some sort of fun life. It was a rare day that she woke up without some phantom ache or pain. Some reminder that “Hey! I'm your soulmate, I'm out here, and I'm a dumb ass!”

As annoying as it was, it was something Annabeth had learned to get kind of used to. She had also put a lot of thought into it, wondering if she could piece together what kind of person her soulmate was, so she could seek him out, meet him to end the dreaded pain sharing, then kick his butt for putting her through so much.

But despite all the time she spent thinking about it, the best guess she could come up with was some sort of sport. The injures were always the knees, elbows, ankles, and butt. Not the usual suspects for someone who got into a lot of fights, or someone seeking pain. No, those seemed like the normal signs of some athletic kid with no concern for his own safety, or seemingly hers.

Why couldn't he be like her? She very rarely was injured on her own. Never broken a bone, never been in a fight, never even really had a bad accident. Surely she was the perfect soulmate for someone.

Once she had complained to her dad about it, and he had just smiled and said “Bear with it. No one knows what to expect, but once you meet them you'll appreciate having known they were a part of your life the whole time. Plus it'll give you a conversation starter.” He had said with a laugh. So Annabeth didn't really talk to her dad about it again, deeming him a little too unhelpful.

In the end, she tried to listen to her family and friend's advice. Just try and bear with it, and look forward to the day her patience is rewarded. Though she had to admit it got more difficult as her friends all met theirs. Piper met a boy named Jason when they were 15. Her neighbor Will met a boy named Nico not long after. Hazel met Frank early, back when they were both 13. Her friend Leo had even found his partner in a girl named Calypso. That had cemented just how powerful the soulmate connection was in her mind. Leo had always been a bit eccentric, yet he had found a wonderful girlfriend and they seemed particularly happy together.

Even Annabeth was willing to admit that she might be a little jealous. Piper said it was cause she's always studying in libraries that “Of course you haven't met him. He's having fun, you should try it sometime.”. Annabeth just brushed that off though. Surely her soul mate in life would also love libraries right? Sure he got injured often, but he must spend a decent amount of time reading her like, right? That was what she told herself at least.

The one thing Annabeth never expected to feel was worry when the pain stopped. At first she shrugged it off, relieved that she had gone a month without dealing with some kind of pain.

Around a month and a half she began to feel a little nervous. Was everything okay with him? She had no way of knowing, and just chalked it up to the change. She was never particularly fond of change anyway. She liked permanent things.

At three months, she was downright terrified. Had something happened? It wasn't like the pain had completely stopped cold. There was still the odd pain in her foot from a stubbed toe, or the ghost of a small knick from something sharp. But the usual echoes of pain were gone. Did something major happened? It couldn't have. She'd have known if anything physical had happened. Was he okay? Was he depressed? Honestly, she felt a little silly worrying about the mental health of someone she never met and literally has only caused pain for her. Then again, he was her soul mate so it was to be expected.

At about five months without any of the usual pain, Annabeth was seriously trying to figure out a plan to find him. The tiny echoes of pain she had felt let her know she hadn't met him yet, but now both her curiosity and her concern were burning together in her, making a powerful combination.

When she felt pain flare up in her knees, elbows, butt, and shoulder she almost let out a few tears of relief. It was weird, she never thought she'd be relieved to feel pain. He was back at it. Doing whatever it was he did.

“Dude, are you okay? That was nasty.” A voice called out from somewhere nearby.

Annabeth froze in place. Surely that was just a coincidence.

“I'm fine!” A voice replied.

The sound sent a ripple through her body, it felt like a switch inside her had been turned on. Like gears that had been misaligned slipped into place. Her mind kicked into overdrive and her heart was pounding. That voice. She knew she had never heard it before, but it felt so natural. Like it was a voice she had heard her whole life. It was the only voice she wanted to hear. Dropping her backpack, she turned and took off in a dead sprint towards the source of that voice.

It was him.

IT WAS HIM.

IT WAS HIM!

She knew it. From the bottom of her soul, she knew it.

Shoving past a tall blonde she vaguely recognized at Piper's soul mate, she froze. Her eyes locked with a boy on the ground, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

The boy was tall and lean, decked out in jeans and a flannel, a skateboard overturned near him. Some small part of Annabeth's mind registered the fact a skater made perfect sense, and she was a little annoyed she hadn't pieced it together before. His eyes mesmerized her, and she instantly knew she could stare at them for hours.

“Hello?” She managed to choke out, still in shock from everything in her life sliding into place.

The boy visibly reacted to her voice as his jaw dropped as if he was feeling the same thing she was. He was feeling the same thing she was.

“What's your name?” Was all he said, slowly standing up.

“Annabeth Chase.” She replied automatically as she took in his standing form. Memorizing all the little details, the way he rested his weight heavily on one foot, had only one hand in a pocket, his hat on just a little too crooked to be intentional.

“I'm Percy Jackson.” He answered her unspoken question, still studying her.

“Have you met... your soul mate?” He asked, a clear nervousness in his voice.

Nodding, Annabeth felt tears annoyingly creeping up into the corner of her eyes. She had always told herself she wouldn't be one of those girls who cried when meeting their partner. But it was just such a relief. “I think I just did.”

Hesitantly Percy took a step forward, prompting her to as well. A second later and they rushed forward, wrapping each other in a tight hug.

“I'm so glad I found you.” He murmured into Annabeth's ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Took you long enough.” She muttered in reply, hugging him just a little bit closer.

She was also vaguely aware of Jason talking on hurried only the phone, giving her a thumbs up.

By the time Piper had rushed over, Annabeth and Percy were sitting on the edge of a planter chatting happily. She felt the awkward tension between them quickly slipping away, as they found a comfortable pace between the two of them. It was still bumpy as they pushed and pulled, figuring out each other.

Piper had immediately introduced herself to Percy as Annabeth's best friend and future bridesmaid.

Annabeth really had never expected her soulmate to fit into her life as quickly as Percy did. The constantly small dates for coffee or lunch. The messages they woke up to each morning from each other. The little bickering and banter they both found they had a habit of starting.

Percy was also nothing like she had expected. He had recently moved to the city with his mom. He hated studying, and much preferred hanging out with friends. When pestered about the sudden change in pain, and the constant pain she felt he had immediately flushed red in embarrassment and shame. Like she had guessed, he was an avid skateboarder. However after a bad spill, a friend had mentioned that his soul mate must be miserable from all the scrapes cuts and bruises he got.

Sheepishly Percy had admitted he never considered that. Sure he had always daydreamed about Annabeth, but he had never connected the fact that his skateboarding would be bad for her. So he had just stopped. But missing it, he had taken to wearing more protection and trying to play it safe. That day had actually been the first time he had been convinced to do more of the dangerous tricks again.

Annabeth couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly at how absent minded he had been. How could he have not had realized. She was planning on complaining a little more, but he had fired back that he hated paper cuts and he had been dealing with them for years as well, which had shut her up. She hadn't really considered how many she got from all her reading either. Plus, he had tried to give up his favorite hobby for her. Not something she would have wanted to him to do of course, but the sentiment still made her heard soar.

Percy's mom had also been the coolest mom ever, it had been official. She had been downright terrified of meeting her, her mom having been a bit intimidating. But Sally had welcomed her with open arms, literally. Annabeth had been swept into a hug immediately upon the door opening.

She had also found out that he was on the swim team, that he had quickly become the top swimmer on his new team. When she had rushed out and hugged him after he had won swim meet she had gone to, it had dawned on her. Never in her life would she have imagined going to a swim meet. Not to mention standing in front of others as she shared a celebratory kiss with her soul mate, the rest of the world fading from focus. Never did she imagine passing on studying to go out and learn how to skateboard. Never did she imagine that instead of snuggling up alone to enjoy a movie that she would find another's presence much more relaxing next to her on the couch.

Standing there, staring at Percy as the water dripped from his hair, his unrestrained smile directed solely at her, as if he was happier to see her than win the meet, Annabeth realized everything had changed.

For once though, she didn't mind this change. This was the start of something permanent.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to send me more percabeth fluff prompts anyone who is reading this! I still have a few in my inbox I will work through! I just write them as I’m inspired, no real order. The next thing I post will probably be chapter 4 of the Cafe!AU I’m working on. Till next time!

[tanoraqui]

(I literally had a moment, about two hours ago, where I was like, “the responsible thing to do would be shower and go to sleep, and write the cracky idea in the morning.” Thank god I’m not that mature yet.)

Keyleth hated this mission. The fact that she had self-assigned it did nothing to diminish her hatred. It just left her with only herself to blame.

“Stop pinching your lips like that. It blows your cover as an empty-headed chit.”

Oh, wait, there was definitely someone else to blame.

Keyleth tightened her grip on Ripley’s arm—Anna Ripley, international arms dealer, perennial pain in the Department’s ass, and just this once her partner—and wished Vex was here instead. But the Conclave had caught Vax on camera stealing the Whisper Codex, which meant they’d make Vex as well, and no one else knew Percy’s codes well enough to…coordinate if something went interestingly. (Or to communicate if he was too badly hurt. Or to counter him if—no, Keyleth didn’t believe Raishan’s bullshit message for a second. Percy would never betray them. She just prayed the Deceiver and her cronies hadn’t done anything too horrible to him when they found that out.)

Unfortunately, there was one other person who knew Percy that well, and this was a two-man job. Or two-woman, as the case may be.

They reached the hotel door before Keyleth was ready. Ripley just extended one cool hand to the doorman, with a heavily embossed invitation.

“Dr. Anna Ripley, and guest.” A smirk played on her lips like she knew a joke he didn’t get. Keyleth held still, and tried to smile at him.

The guard scanned the invitation with his phone, waiting until it beeped a confirmation to look back up at them. Keyleth didn’t let herself relax an inch—falsifying the invite had definitely been the easy part of the job.

“I’m afraid I need to get your guest’s name, ma’am,” he said. He was dressed like he worked for the Palazzo he stood in front of, but a discreet five-colored pin on his collar announced the hosts of the party within.

“This is my assistant, Kiki Dawson.” Ripley spoke before Keyleth could open her mouth, and pulled their twined arms a little closer, as if to claim her.

Keyleth smiled at the guard, trying to make her expression fit her dress. It was a low-cut, sleeveless, lime green thing, meant to draw attention to her curving figure and the tattoos swirling over her dark skin. Normally those were just for her, but tonight they had to be part of the costume.

The guard waved them in with only the hint of a lecherous smirk. As soon as they were through the doors), out of sight, Keyleth aimed a heel at her “partner’s” foot. Ripley pulled away just in time.

“Whatever happened to us both being incognito?” Keyleth hissed.

Ripley kept towing her across the lobby, speaking softly but without a hint of doubt. “Wouldn’t have worked. I’ve dealt with the Conclave before, and they don’t like me much. Umbrasyl probably remembers my face, and Raishan certainly does.”

“Then how did we just walk into her party?”

Again, that goddamn smirk. “I phoned ahead and offered to sell her my new missile shield.”

Cabal’s Ruin? Keyleth wanted to say, just to prove that they had broken her security enough to know—but it was too late. They were already at the ballroom doors, and thank god it wasn’t like a ball in fairy tales, where they would be announced at the door, or Keyleth would just about have died.

It was awful enough. There were so many people, milling around in clothing that cost enough to feed a small country, and Keyleth recognized enough of them at a glance to know that they had probably collectively starved several small countries, or would within the year, and wouldn’t care. They were all drinking champagne and making small talk, and around them were a dozen glittering chandeliers and enough gold to bankrupt another, medium-sized country. Not, Keyleth knew, Raishan’s taste—fuck, did that mean Thordak was here, too?

Then again, they did have quite a prize in the vaults below.

She didn’t need Ripley’s nudge to trip against the first waiter she saw, and spill champagne down her very cloth-free front. It was barely even an act.

“Honestly, dear,” said Ripley, sounding more like an irritated schoolmarm than someone who would ever call someone else ‘dear.’ “Do you have the faintest sense of the dignity of an occasion?”

“I am so sorry, ma’ams,” said the waiter. He pointed back towards the lobby door, his own shirt stained gold as well. “There’s a bathroom right out there and to the right, if you need it. Please, let me get you a finer drink as an apology. A rosé? Or we have a fine old Chanteau, put down in 1927.”

“Thank you,” Keyleth said before Ripley could say something snide.

Ripley saved it until they were back in the hallway. “Well, they certainly know we’re here, now.”

“Like we needed them to,” Keyleth snapped back. “Or did you want them wondering why you appeared at the front door and never in the party?”

Ripley just rolled her eyes, and took the lead as they walked—not crept; never look like you don’t want to be caught—down the opulent hallway.

“If you didn’t want to come,” Keyleth hissed, hopping a step to keep up with her, “you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to let someone else kill—quiet.” Ripley caught her by the arm and pulled her flat against the wall just before a T-intersection.

Keyleth fumbled a compact mirror, very quietly, from her pocket, and angled it stealthily at her side. She caught a glimpse of the same uniform the guard at the door wore—black; Security. Two of them were coming down the intersecting hall.

There wasn’t enough cover here, and they had gone in the opposite direction as the bathrooms. Keyleth glanced at her “partner.”

Ripley already had a pistol in her hand, from where, Keyleth didn’t know. How, she didn’t know. There had been an X-ray weapons scanner carefully concealed in the front door. Keyleth only had a couple shocks stored up in her tazer-bracelets.

Keyleth tugged Ripley’s arm to get her attention, and pointed at the gun. Too much, she mouthed silently.

Silencer, Ripley mouthed back, raising one eyebrow like she was genuinely surprised Keyleth was this stupid.

Bodies, Keyleth replied, because I don’t want to kill random guards just because they get a half-decent paycheck here would be ignored, and was too long, and probably wouldn’t work out anyway.

Then she gave up and, as Security’s footsteps approached, pushed herself over Ripley’s front (hiding the gun) and kissed her on the lips.

She caught the older woman by surprise. Ripley’s mouth was open to retort something else.  Keyleth leaned into it with what she hoped was a convincing moan. Her fists bunched in the fabric of Ripley’s dress—much more modest than her own, but it felt just like it looked, like fabric made of midnight.

Ripley’s arms came up around Keyleth’s shoulders and there were two soft thumps behind her. One of the gods stopped halfway through clearing their throat.

Keyleth pulled away, wiping her mouth, and looked behind her. Both guards were on the ground, a woman with a neat hole in her head and a man gurgling and choking as blood spilled out of his throat. He was trying to reach for the radio on his hip, but his arm twitched uncontrollably.

Ripley stepped around Keyleth and him a second time, a would to match his partner’s. Her gun was perfectly silent.

“That wasn’t necessary.” Keyleth felt the bile rising in her throat, and the tears in her eyes, and hated them both. Hated field missions in general and this one in particular, hated every reason that she had to be on it, and hated that she couldn’t handle any of it.

“You are utterly naïve,” Ripley sneered. She peered around the corner for more guards, gun still in her hand. Her carefully coifed bun was mussed from where Keyleth had pushed her against the wall. “The elevator shaft is this way.”

“You—”

Before Keyleth could finish her insult, the supposedly solid ground shook beneath their feet. Of course, both women knew full-well there was a complete Chroma Conclave facility beneath this building.

It shook again, harder this time, as if the source was moving closer to the surface. A little more to the south, though. There was the faintest echo of an explosion.

“Percival,” Ripley said with a snake-like smile, as Keyleth breathed a relieved, “Percy.”

They both took off running down the hall.

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Break My Heart: Chapter 6 (A Solangelo Fanfic)

And here we have part one of the final day in the infirmary, as well as the end of the first act of this fic. I’m actually really proud at how soon I managed to update this. I’m putting this down as a victory.

I hope you enjoy!

Read on Tumblr: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five 

Read it all on AO3

Preview:

“Why do I need to bother with that?” Nico asked, obviously not interested, but continuing to drink his smoothie.

“I don’t know, do you ever want to grow?” Will asked him honestly. “I’m not the one who’s going to be responsible for stunting your growth at two inches.”

“I am not that short,” Nico said with a scowl.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you from all the way down there.”  

Suddenly a pillow was smacked against his head and Will was sent sprawling on the ground. 

“I never liked Annabeth…I…I liked Percy Jackson.”

               Will liked to think that in general his ADHD wasn’t as bad as say, Antonio who had a hard time keeping still, or Violet who would talk your ear off in a million directions. However, his brain shut down and went into full impulse mode. He grabbed Nico’s hands and blurted out,

               “You liked Percy Jackson? Me too! What was it? The green eyes? The curly hair—oh! Oh! It was the sexy intense bad-boy expression right?”

               When Will finally actually looked at Nico, he was outwardly staring at Will, as if Will had just offered to take Nico unicycling over burning coals while singing God Save The Queen backwards and in Spanish while in matching tutus. Will’s face burst into heat as he let go of Nico’s hands and stared up at the ceiling, trying to collect himself and the shattered illusion that he wasn’t an absolute wreck of a demigod.

               To Will’s shock, Nico stifled a chuckle. He tried to hide it for a few moments before bursting into gut wrenching laughter, laughing so hard that he was wiping tears from his eyes. It took him a few tries to collect himself, but by that point Will was smiling along with him.

               “Sorry, sorry, that just really took me by surprise,” Nico admitted, his low voice still warbling with the remnants of his laughing fit, fanning his face which had taken a pink tinge. “If I had to answer though, it was because he is a hero. The first one I ever saw, and I thought he was the coolest person I had ever met in my whole life.”

               “Percy Jackson is a pretty cool dude,” Will promised him seriously. “Decently crush worthy.”

               “But...you know…I accepted it, and when I did that I kind of grew out of it, if that makes any sense. So there it is, my tragic first love story,” Nico said, seemingly resigned about what seemed to have been a great ordeal. Will didn’t know much about Nico’s actual Tragic BackstoryTM, but he had heard whispers. What Nico was saying had probably been harder than he was letting on, and Nico was brave for that. It made Will admire him more…in a very platonic way obviously.

               “Was that what you were talking about with him?” Will asked as he rested his hands on his knees to keep from doing something stupid again.

               “Well, I admitted after the battle what I basically just told you but…he wanted to talk. Mostly apologize for things.”

               “For what?”

               “Well, for example he tried to kill me a few times, or at least made a serious attempt once and then wanted to kill me a few other times,” Nico said with a very nonchalant shrug. Will stared at him, and then realized that though sometimes with Nico it was hard to tell, Nico definitely wasn’t joking.

               “Wait, he seriously tried to kill you? And you still liked him?” Will asked as he squinted at Nico.

               “He also thought that I had betrayed him at that point, but yeah. Choked me out and everything.”

               “Nico, seriously, you still liked a guy who tried to kill you?”

               “I’m working on the self-worth thing,” Nico half-whined, rubbing his temples, before looking at Will with seemingly saintly patience. “Listen, that doesn’t come over night. I’m not the main character of some shitty novel. We’re demigods and besides that we’re Big Three kids. Sometimes baser natures take over and we just react. I know that better than anyone. I know those aren’t great excuses, but that’s what happened. Percy apologized for that stuff and I forgave him, that simple. We’re going to try to work on being friends, and that will be nice for a change.”

               “I’m not going to say I understand, but I trust your judgment on that,” Will said, feeling oddly defensive of Nico and the situation he had been put in. But he had also been friends with Percy for years, and knew it wasn’t his nature to just lash out either. The grey area Nico was describing probably really did exist, and Will would just have to trust that they had worked through it. “Still, I’m sorry you were put in that position. That must’ve sucked.”  

               “Yeah, it really did,” Nico admitted, and Will could tell that it was hard for Nico to explain how bad it must’ve been. “I never really wanted to…come to terms with my feelings. Gods, that was part of the reason I was always getting into these giant messes. But running doesn’t suit me, Jason and Reyna both helped to show me that, and…you seem so happy being out. At peace. To feel peace…I would like that. Talking with Percy today was my third real step.”

               “Third?”

               “First was telling Percy how I felt. The second was…” Nico stopped himself and looked away quickly. “Forget it.”

               “Was it becoming friends with me?” Will asked teasingly, pointing at himself. When Nico didn’t respond Will felt a large smile break out across his face. “Aw, Death Boy, that’s so nice. I think I’m going to throw up kittens and rainbows.”

               “Shut up,” Nico grumbled, still refusing to look at him. “You are out and friends with…with gay people. I just thought it would be a good idea to have an ally is all.”

               “Well I’m happy,” Will promised him. “That’s a great honor that you’ve bestowed upon me. I’ll take it very seriously.”

               “Gods you are such a weirdo,” Nico said, looking annoyed.

               “But you are friends with this weirdo.”

               “Nope. Nevermind. I’m not.”

               “Sorry, you can’t just take back the friend check I’ve already cashed it in my friend bank and it’s nonrefundable,” Will said with a shrug and a sympathetic look. Nico just scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide his yawn. “Tired?”

               “Yeah…I guess that conversation took more out of me then I thought,” Nico actually admitted which maintained Will’s smile.

               “I’ll let you rest then,” Will said as he stood up. “And I’ll let you know when dinner’s coming.”

               “Hey…Will?” Nico asked as he pulled up his covers. “Thanks for…not freaking out or anything.”

               “No problem.”

               The first thing that Will did as soon as he left the infirmary for that evening was to high-tail it to where Lou Ellen was standing by the edge of the campfire pit, wrap his arms around her, and scream into her shoulder while jumping with her up and down.

               “Oh my Gods what is happening?! Who broke Will Solace?” Lou Ellen cried out as Cecil looked on at the outburst with amusement. Will let her go and tried to compose himself, but found it much more difficult than he had been expecting.

               “I think I figured out my dream,” Will told them both before clarifying, “well, I can’t tell you what maybe I think it’s about because privacy issues but I think I figured it out.”

               “Uh, wow, vague answer much,” Cecil noted, eyebrow raised at him.

               “Sorry, sorry, I’m just so relieved,” Will said as he stretched, letting his sweatshirt sleeves dip and pressing up on his tippy toes. He felt the evening air cool and sweet against his face, the scent of campfire and cut grass and deep woods a gentle and wonderful in his breath, and it was all wonderful. “I feel refreshed.”

               And he ought to. He figured out what had been weighing on him for two whole days. Obviously what Nico had not wanted to do anymore was keep his sexuality a secret. Will was comforting him like a friend and Nico was ready to move on. Obviously. This was it. No more reason to push, no more reason to worry. Done. Finished. Will had figured it out. Will wasn’t going to fall in love and get his heart broken, nope, Will had taken on a role of dear friend and confidante. And if those thoughts sounded like he was just trying to fool himself, Will was just facing reality. Reality. Yep. Nothing else to see here.

               “Not to rain on your parade but…there was kind of a situation,” Lou Ellen said regretfully, patting Will’s shoulder.  

               And that’s how Will ended up waiting outside the Aphrodite Cabin with two bags of makeup that had been responsible for the simultaneous makeovers of the dumb campers who had dared to steal them from the cabin; i.e. the Stolls, Alice and Julia, and Antonio. Will hadn’t needed to know that Aphrodite Cabin and Hecate Cabin had a collab on some hexes and makeup, nor wanted to see what that would create, so not he was not happy. Not a single bit. In fact it was safe to say his good mood was completely ruined.  

               This was especially the case when Drew walked up, obviously pissed but still making her tee shirt and jeans look fabulous. She glared at him darkly, as if he insulted her by just being in her presence.  She immediately crossed her arms over her chest, showing off her rings on her fingers and turned up her nose at him.

               “Piper,” she muttered under her breath. “That little no good thieving—“

               “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Will interrupted, earning another seething glare. “I’m just as happy about this as you are, trust me. If I could, I would ignore the situation. But obviously that isn’t working for either of us. So how about we do this instead? Do you want to tell Piper why we don’t get along, or should I. Because if we don’t she’ll keep trying to make peace between us, and we both know you don’t want that.”

               “Oh please, sweetie. I don’t care about my dirty laundry, not enough to give my meddling sister ammo to use against me,” Drew sighed softly and sweetly, her lips colored a bubblegum pink. Will gritted his teeth, knowing that she was attempting to goad him. Ammo? Him? Was that all he was to her?

               “Fine, I’ll take responsibility since you are incapable of doing so. A running theme I’ve found,” Will snapped, trying to channel his most calm and composed self but finding it difficult. “Not caring about actual leadership, not helping your siblings in any meaningful way, not actually coming up with a good excuse for hurting me just blaming everything on an outdated hazing ritual—“  

               “What you saw was what you got, honey,” Drew said as she motioned to herself before crooning as if he was a child, “is Silly Willy still all sad because he got dumped.”

               “Yes Drew. I was sad for a while, but I’m not sad anymore about anything but you. Forgive me for thinking that maybe, just maybe, that we had something worth a damn and for knowing that you are more than some Empousa with a better hairstylist like you like to make everyone think you are, but seeing that the image of the impenetrable Drew Tanaka is more important than anyone else will ever be,” Will just sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes. “Your act didn’t work, no one followed your lead, and now you’re knocked down a few pegs and just looking for cheap shots. Honestly Drew, you just exhaust me. Take your makeup and let it rest.”

               “Why? So you can go back to your boyfriend who you’ve got all holed up in the clinic?” Drew asked angrily, her perfectly plucked eyebrow twitching. He took satisfaction with the idea that he had needled her just a little.

               Will felt his rarely there temper begin to boil over.

               “Drew, seriously, you either drop this or prepare yourself. Choose your words wisely,” Will growled at her, feeling his battle honed instincts begging to be kicked in. Will wasn’t a fighter, not by nature, but he certainly wasn’t a push over. He had just about had enough of Drew’s bad attitude.  

               “Make me,” Drew challenged him, seemingly just as ready as he was.

               “Apollo versus Aphrodite, next game of Capture the Flag. And you can tell Piper how she got herself into this mess when Clarisse la Rue and I kick your butts into next year,” Will announced to Drew and anyone within ear shot, his control cracking like ice on a warm day.

               “I don’t know what’s happening but hell yeah!” shouted Mark Wilkinson, one of the Ares kids from across the green as he dragged a dozing Clovis from where he had fallen asleep. Clovis’ slumbering body knocked over a couple spears which sent the child of Ares swearing like a sailor. Will pressed his palm to his face.

               “Shit Solace, I'm proud of you. Way to finally stand your ground, and what a way to cash that favor I owe you for Ellis. Ares cabin is with you all the way," Clarisse said as she grasped his arm before walking away with her posse of siblings following close behind, giving hoots and hollers to Aphrodite Cabin. Piper hadn’t looked up from where she was resting her head against the table the whole breakfast, and the rest of the cabin was looking pretty pissed at Drew who primly tore apart her toast as if she had no clue what was happening.

Will collapsed back on his seat heavily. This sucked, and Will wasn’t happy. He had every reason to be, but he wasn’t.

"You didn't follow your What Would Grandpa Vernon Do rule, did you?" Cecil asked him suspiciously from the seat across from Will. “That was impulsive, even for you.”

Will winced at that as he toyed with his beads. Will had grown up tucked away from most of the world with his Grandparents in a place called Abundance, Texas. It had been a wholesome normal upbringing by any stretch of the imagination, until he had almost died in a monster attack. The ruse was that his mother had wanted a stable life for him, away from fame and touring. And thought it was definitely a part of it, it was mostly because of the horrible things that lurked in big cities and the bad things that kept happening.

His grandfather was the town's patriarch. A stern, but caring man who had raised Will alongside his Grandma Florence. He could almost see his grandfather in his mind's eye, tapping his booted foot, crossing his arms over his pastor garb, narrowing his grey-blue eyes and drawling, "what in God's green earth do you think you solved with that little temper tantrum William Elijah?" 

He missed him, and Will swallowed that tinge of homesickness as he considered mental Grandpa’s advice.  

"That's the problem, as my pastor he would probably admonish me for giving in to my anger and not listening to my good sense. As my Papa, once, he almost stabbed a man with a spork when the guy said something disparaging about my mom. And when I mean almost, I mean it was in his hand and prepared to be plunged," Will explained as he mimed the action of Spork-Assaulting to Lou Ellen and Cecil before sighing. "Do you understand my problem? Papa sent me mixed messages."  

“Will…” Lou Ellen said to him, tapping her black-painted nails against the picnic table, obviously trying to find a way to help but seeing nothing.  

“Can I count on Hermes and Hecate? I know Piper’s going to recruit Jason and Percy, and she’s in talks with Athena Cabin. And I also know that Jake Mason owes Annabeth after she found those scrolls for him so I think Hephaestus is going to them too.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I’ll talk with the Stolls. But considering last night’s debacle, you got an ally with Hermes Cabin,” Cecil promised him and offered a fist bump.

“I don’t like the way Drew talks to you, I think some pig bombs are in her future,” Lou Ellen said with another fist bump, before returning to her table with a wave. Cecil turned around and relayed his news to his siblings who began happily discussing plans.

               When Will finally got to the infirmary after dealing with his siblings, he felt like he had already been through a whole day. His favorite patient, i.e. his only patient, was sitting in bed reading. Will smiled at Nico, but quickly noted the shadows like rims under his eyes, filled to the brink with darkness.

               “Didn’t sleep well?” Will asked him, thankful to focus on something that wasn’t himself. “Nightmares?”

               Nico shrugged and closed his book, which seemed to be his answer. Will tried to read the title but it took a few moments for the words to come together into something he could actually understand.

               “Tolkien, eh?” Will asked him. “Going with a brother of mine is always a good choice.”

               “J.R.R. Tolkien was a son of Apollo?” Nico asked, seemingly startled by that revelation.

               “Is it that surprising that a man that obsessed with poetry and language could be a son of Apollo?” Will pointed out to him as he took his hand, feeling out with his powers for Nico’s state. “Unlike our father, some of us have to be half way decent at it. So? What do you think? Like it so far?”

               “I think I do, a lot of the names and words keep making it difficult,” Nico admitted before huffing, sounding very frustrated. “My dyslexia isn’t usually so bad.”

               “You are also sleep deprived,” Will pointed out to him. Thankfully the darkness hadn’t built back up in his system, though he wasn’t about to talk to Nico’s ear off about the absorption qualities of magic muck. He checked Nico’s wounds and saw that the steady doses of ambrosia and nectar had healed up his outward injuries, with a day of rest and food, Will might even able to confidently discharge Nico the next morning. “Good, besides the sleepiness. I had the nymphs fix you up something for breakfast.”

               Will offered the bottle of smoothie he had kept in the fridge. Nico took an experimental sip before finding it palatable enough that he didn’t try to kill him.

               “What’s in this thing? Besides strawberries.”

               “Well besides our camp-grown strawberries, it has quick oats, banana, yogurt, milk, and honey in it. It’s a good recipe and has everything you need for the most important meal of the day in drinkable form,” Will pointed out as he sipped his own smoothie. “I figured smoothie breakfasts would be a good way to go for a while, I’ll print out the action plan I made for you, but basically the gist is to get you to gain healthy weight in a way that won’t make you want to kill someone. Three meals a day, and post work out snacks since I know that as soon as you get out of here you are probably going to be hitting the training fields. I’m sure it’ll feel a bit like bootcamp, but as soon as you are in a healthy weight zone it’ll just be about maintenance.”

               “Why do I need to bother with that?” Nico asked, obviously not interested, but continuing to drink his smoothie.

               “I don’t know, do you ever want to grow?” Will asked him honestly. “I’m not the one who’s going to be responsible for stunting your growth at two inches.”

               “I am not that short,” Nico said with a scowl.

               “What was that? I couldn’t hear you from all the way down there.”  

               Suddenly a pillow was smacked against his head and Will was sent sprawling on the ground. Will leveled a halfhearted glare at Nico, who sat as proudly as any king upon his throne, looking at Will from over his sharp nose as if he were a mere peasant who had dared to insult his royal person. Will just shook his head with a smile before pulling himself up on his feet.

               “Oh, hello,” a voice greeted. “Am I interrupting something?”

               Will looked over to see Jason Grace standing in the hallway, carrying a backpack. Good looking guy, though, not Will’s type at all. Maybe it was the blonde-blue-eyes thing, since Will couldn’t really ever see himself flirting with a dude who could be his cousin (not that they weren’t related as all Greek and Roman demigods were technically somehow related but not physically and genetically…it was all rather confusing and everyone just chose to ignore it for their own good). It might have also been that, though Will knew that Jason had loosened up quite a bit since he had first been introduced at CHB, he was still a rather serious and honorable guy, both perfectly fine qualities but Will had always preferred boys who knew how to cut loose and joke.

               Like Nico di Angelo? His brain unhelpfully supplied.

               Shut up, you. We’ve solved this. Don’t do that.  

               “Nothing important,” Nico told him, cool and composed.

               “How is he doing, Will?” Jason asked, intently scanning Nico’s face as if searching him for illness and disease and injury.

               “I’m right here, Jason,” Nico said crossly before Will could answer the question.

               “And I trust Will, who is not only a counselor but also the head healer of the camp to give it to me straight. Unlike you, since I actually know what you are like,” Jason pointed out to Nico’s chagrin, who slumped back in his bed with a pout.

               “Damn Romans and their regard for authority,” Nico muttered under his breath. “You are just as bad as Reyna.”  

               “Nico’s actually doing much better,” Will said holding his hands out and waving Nico down. That seemingly defused the other’s annoyance. “His infections are gone and the darkness isn’t going to make him disappear if he isn’t stupid about it. Like I was just explaining to Nico, we’re mostly going to be focusing on maintaining health and gaining weight once I release him.”

               “If you could give me the plan too, I would be really grateful. Just so I can make sure this one stays on track,” Jason said with a jerk of his head towards where Nico was sitting, blowing bubbles into his smoothie, obviously ignoring the two of them. “It’s important to keep Nico honest, otherwise he’ll just avoid.”

               “You see Will, everyone lies, but people only get up in your business about it if you are a child of Hades. That’s what I learned,” Nico told Will bitterly. “Double standards, all of them.”

               “I didn’t come to argue, just know I care,” Jason said seemingly giving up for the moment, before turning to Will as he sat down on Nico’s bed. Nico made a show of glaring and looking like he was about to hiss at him, but there wasn’t much actual heat in it. “Talking about arguing, I heard about what happened with Drew, Will. Can’t say I’m not sympathetic. Just wanted to let you know that before our team wins at Capture the Flag next week.”

               “Capture the Flag?” Nico asked, his interest piqued. Will groaned, his nightmare still seemingly unfolding no matter where he went.

               “If you were really so righteous you would join my team. They already have Percy and Annabeth. Why do they get you too?”

               “Boyfriend duty,” Jason said and Will made a face. Nico was still obviously confused, and Will decided for the sake of everyone it was just easier for him to get it straight from the horse’s mouth.

               “Basically me and Drew got into it last night. The challenge was put forth,” Will explained the less gruesome version to Nico.

               “I can’t believe you used to go out with her,” Jason said with a shudder, shattering Will’s hopes of keeping it less gruesome. Nico blinked, obviously absorbing the information slowly.

               Will looked at Jason Grace for a moment. Somewhat hurt, somewhat surprised that a guy so powerful and with so much prestige could be so utterly clueless. Then again, considering Jason’s infamous love triangle situation, Will figured that love wasn’t Jason’s strong suit. It wasn’t Will’s either, but still. Any guy who was dumb enough to get himself into a love triangle and then stay in it for a while because he was indecisive wouldn’t get it.

               “I went out with Drew because at the time I liked Drew. Even if our relationship is over and Drew is difficult I was always true to myself,” Will told him sternly and completely unamused, donning his head counselor tone. “I know everyone would like me to be happy about this, but I’m really not since I basically fell right into what Drew wanted. I’m going to work things out with her somehow, either on or off the Capture the Flag game, but in the meantime, I don’t appreciate the implications of what you just said. You owe me an apology. Now.”

               Jason was staring at him with outward shock like Will had just slapped him in the face with a dead fish. Will realized that Phoebe was right, he did the authority of a praetor when it came to Romans. If only he could shock his siblings into silence too. Nico’s mouth twisted into a savage sharp grin that cut wide and wild across his face and sent pleasant shivers down Will’s spine.  

               “Jason, you might want to apologize. Not only does Will historically have no fear when it comes to Big Three Kids, but he’ll also be the one stitching up your team after we kick your sorry butts,” Nico di Angelo announced, propping his feet on Jason’s lap, looking like a cat who had gotten the cream. “Will’s my ally, so I’m going to be his.”

               “Singing Sirens, di Angelo is on our team! Yes!” Austin cried, and Emma, Violet, and Antonio who were peaking in from down the hall began jumping up in down and slapping high fives. Someone began blasting DJ Khalid from the front, and Chiron’s voice echoed as he tried to reprimand over the music.

               “I really walked myself into that one, didn’t I?” Jason said, looking legitimately sorry and with a small nervous grin. “I’m really sorry, Will. Seriously. When Piper decides to skin me, will you consider healing me?”

               “I’ll even do it free of charge and with a complimentary lollipop,” Will said with a smile of his own. Nico reached over to pat Jason’s shoulder and Jason accepted it like a good sport. Maybe this wasn’t going to be all bad, Will thought to himself. Just maybe.

[jflashandclash]

Attrition of Peace

Eighteen: Kalypso

The Return of the Paxmobile

(or: Dananananana Dnananana Paxmobile!)

 Everyone was laughing as they ran out of the club. Pax scrambled to pull his shirt back on. Axel surprised her and Euna with a quick front flip as they ran. He laughed like a maniac and Kally realized Merry’s power had affected more than the Heroes of Olympus.

The outside cold snapped Kally more into reality. The gleeful tears that streaked down her cheeks now turned to trails of ice. She’d been in a sound booth tucked into one of the walls with protective Plexiglas. Apparently, it wasn’t uncommon for the merfolk to splash the electronics whenever they disliked a song so everything had been waterproofed. Also effective for, In Case of Percy Jackson. Despite that, Merry had taken over the music halfway through with her jacket, allowing Kally to dance in the isolation of her box without any responsibilities.

“Okay, Merry, I owe you an apology,” Axel admitted. “I didn’t think whatever idea you had was going to work. I mean… the Diet Cokes?”

“The sacrifice to Dad,” Merry giggled. “I ain’t that powerful.” Calex carried her bridal style as they ran down the alleyway. She kept throwing her head back and forth, like she was still dancing to the music, making it as difficult for Calex to carry her as possible.[1]

Merry had collapsed in the club. That party had completely drained her. Kally had seen Merry talk her way out of tons of exercising in gym class and wasn’t used to Merry looking so exhausted. Now, she kept giggling nonsensically, waving her fingers haphazardly to a beat no one could hear, nuzzling up against Calex’s chest, and mumbling the words to Bollywood songs. The grin on her face was absolutely silly and contagious.

“You two—” Merry flicked her hand at Pax and Axel, making Kally duck to avoid being struck. “—are great at the whole war thing, but you’re not very god at peace, are you two?”

Pax laughed and stated, “No, all we’ve ever known is violence,” in the least comforting manner he could.

The image of Pax’s bedroom fluttered to the surface of Kally’s memory—the corner with the chains, clubs, and whips. All the mirth flushed out of her. Instead, she thought about laying beside Pax on his bed, and about what Pax must have done to make Frank flustered the other day. Did other demigods have this problem? Worrying about their traumatized not-boyfriends making out with unwary praetors?

“Merry, that was brilliant, though you’re a mad woman,” Calex said, interrupting Kally’s thoughts on her muddled emotions.

They turned out of the alley onto the main street. Axel slowed them to normal walking pace to draw less attention. The sky was dark now—as dark, Kally figured, as the sky could get in Brooklyn. It gleamed with an ominous orange haze that washed out most of the stars, like Hephaestus was hammering away new New York Part II to impress Athena somewhere nearby.

The streets were busy with the night crowd. Some people made Kally happy that Euna had Backbiter and that someone as intimidating as Axel was leading them.

Now that they’d left the energy of the club and were walking, Kally could feel herself shake in the cold. Merry was the only one with a real jacket in the group. Calex’s beanie and scarf couldn’t have kept him that much warmer.

“Why did you need me to shoot Percy?” Calex asked.

Merry giggled. “Oh, that wasn’t for the plan. I just thought Pax would get a kick out of seeing Percy fall in love with Jason.”

Calex’s jaw dropped. Axel choked on a laugh. Pax burst into one. Even Euna cracked a half-smile, though Kally thought Euna’s grin might have been in reaction to her own musings due to the distant glint in her eyes.

“You had me shoot at the SON OF POSEIDON because this idiotic block might get ‘a kick out of it?!?’” he demanded.

“Yes.”

“M-Merry, you’re am-mazing,” Pax said, wiping happy tears from his eyes. “I g-give you 10 out of 10 on app-preciating your efforts—HUNNIE! BALLER!”

Before Calex could drop Merry on the sidewalk or toss her into Pax to knock both of them over, a shriek erupted from a passing group of girls in high heels and boys in button downs. “Ew! Rats!”

Two furry creatures darted through their prancing feet and, upon reaching Pax’s legs, scampered up his pants. Once they reached his belt, they burrowed under his shirt, incurring several shouts of glee and pain.

“Ow—ow! Ha ha! Ow! Guys—I missed you—aye! Who fixed you up, Hunnie?!” he asked.

Axel smiled. Then his eyes widened. “Wait—Ajax, if they’re here—”

“We can have weasel death battles again!” Pax exclaimed, and hugged a squirming bulge along his waist.

“That… too, but it means—”

“That means the Paxmobile is nearby!” Pax scrambled to withdraw the two weasels from his shirt. As he pulled them out, they wriggled and bit as his arms. “Ow—ow—go forth my—ow—pretties! F-find us our mobile home!”  

 Kally wasn’t sure how much time passed before Sam Datta’s taxi-van stopped. They’d tried walking after Hunnie and Baller for ten minutes before calling Sam, all of them shaking from the cold and exhausted.

Sam was a little skeptical about letting a pair of weasels direct their movement, but the skepticism turned to wonder when Pax handed him a pocket full of denari and drachma.

“Is this… pirate edition Monopoly money?” he asked. He glanced in concern to where Merry, Calex, and Euna had immediately collapsed in the back seats. Merry was out after a delirious greeting, “vanakkam.[2]”

“It’s what Frank and Jason had in their pockets,” Pax said, hopping in the passenger seat. “So, they’re probably made out of gold. Can you imagine if New Rome was using monopoly money though?” Pax shook his head. “We could use inflation to destroy their economy. Mu ha ha.”

Sam shrugged. “That credit card from earlier didn’t bounce yet. Did you guys beat up her stalker and their cavalry reinforcements?” He pointed a thumb at Kally.

Kally frowned. She wished that wasn’t the story they’d gone with. She sat in the middle with Axel.

“We showed them how to party,” Merry sleepily murmured from the back.

Sam shook his head. Despite the late hour, his eyes were still lit up with excitement. “Hey man, I want details. I’m not driving you places for monopoly money and Mr. Stoic’s angry glare. Now, before I hear how you kicked mythological ass, I’m not going to get dive bombed by like, a dragon, this time, am I?”

Kally thought about Festus, the bronze dragon that Leo had.

“No,” Axel said with firm confidence.

At the same time, Pax said, “Possibly.”

Sam’s eyes sparkled more. “Ah, awesome. Well, I hope you can make sense of my biostat notes, because you’re going to help me study between story time.”

 Pax sat in the front to watch the weasels dash across the dashboard and verbalize their movement to Sam. Axel sat up, alert, and vigilantly scanned the horizon.

Kally wanted to stay awake, to make sure they didn’t derail too far from Camp Half-Blood to find the Paxmobile, though it would be nice to have their own transportation. Honestly though, Kally didn’t know if they were going away from Camp Half-Blood, considering her lack of knowledge about the geography of New York.

Apparently, something about the weasels’ dance across the dashboard was mesmerizing enough for Kally to nod off. When she felt the car roll to a stop, she could smell the cloy mix of spicy chocolate and sweat in her nostrils. Her face and right arm felt toasty despite the cold of the van. Kally glanced up, looking past a torn and bloody Camp Jupiter shirt to where Axel was staring out the window.

Her face was pressed against Axel’s chest and his arm was loosely around her shoulder. When he noticed her wake up, he gave her a soft smile, ruffled her hair, and removed his arm.

Kally’s face felt even toastier.

For a disorienting moment, Kally had a weird flashback to her brother, John. Before he’d became a total jerk, when Kally was really little, he used to help carry her inside the house whenever she fell asleep on long car rides. Sometimes, she’d pretend to have fallen asleep, just so John would complain about how heavy she was while tossing her over one shoulder.

The memory faded when Axel startled and shouted, “STOP!”

Sleepy grumbles erupted from the back.

They squeaked to a sharp halt. From the ease of the break, they couldn’t have been going that fast. From what Kally could see in the scattered street lamps, they were in a suburban neighborhood, with concrete sidewalk forming a horseshoe in a cul-de-sac. They’d braked at the entrance of the cul-de-sac.

The houses were nice, middle-income family homes, bigger than Kally’s house, but she was used to her friends’ houses being bigger. Each had about an acre of land, with minor landscaping and a few scattered trees.

There wasn’t anything that should have made Axel shout for them to stop. Except maybe Hunnie and Baller. They were going nuts and doing flips. One scratched at the front windshield while the other sprinted in circles around the dashboard.

“Unicorn or something?” Sam asked, ducking his head back and forth like he might see something.

Axel pointed to the last house in the cul-de-sac.

Amidst the overgrown grass of that last house, there was indeed a unicorn grazing in the grass. Kally was relieved to see the sputtering rainbow sparkles erupt out of the red and black stallion ahead. Vinyl was okay and happily munching on the lawn.

A white, dented pharmaceutical van was parked in the house’s narrow parking lot.

Kally hoped that was their Paxmobile, and not Lapis and Hiro’s. But she could see the faintest hint of paint on the side, from where the Pax brothers had scribbled Pax Extraction Team. A weird nostalgia hit her as she thought about playing card games with Pax’s holographic deck in the back.

A golden donkey poked its head out from the other side of the Paxmobile: Lucius the Golden Ass.

“That’s just a deer du—oh.” Sam’s eyes went wide. “Oh, man, are most deer secretly unicorns? Have I hit a unicorn with my car before without even knowing it?”

He edged the taxi forward at a slow roll.

Axel shot forward and grabbed Sam’s shoulder. “I said stop.”

The taxi halted again. “Are unicorns deadly?” Sam asked, wide-eyed.

“Very,” Pax said absently. “I heard they eat human livers.” He sat rigidly in the passenger seat, leaning forward slightly. He bounced slightly back and forth in a motion recognized as his I want to hop but I’m sitting.

“Krios and Luke only told you that so you’d stop asking for one,” Axel said. His normal sigh didn’t follow. Instead, his gaze was steady. The Mist fluttered for a moment, and Kally could see his pupils had widened, leaving a thin rim of his iris, like a cat ready to pounce.

“There’s a rune barrier around that house,” he said. Kally didn’t see anything, but she assumed this was a true sight thing.

“Like..?” Pax asked.

“A child of Hecate rune barrier,” Axel clarified.

Pax went silent. Kally thought he might break his seat if he bounced anymore. She could imagine the internal, chibi version of Pax clawing at his seatbelt, squealing, “Release me!”

Something small and ghostly darted from under the Paxmobile, gliding bouncily towards their taxi, like the most menacing of specter bunnies.  

One of the weasels on the dashboard made a loud squeak and phased through the windshield. Kally blinked, watching as the remaining one bit and attacked the glass in attempt to follow after.

“Wow! Your ferret can—”

The weasel left in the car shrieked at Sam before continuing to attack the glass.

“Weasel,” Pax corrected absently. He looked stunned as he watched their weasel scamper up and intercept the approaching white figure.

“Baller does that sometimes,” Axel said. His posture was rigid. He absently grabbed at his belt, where a weapon should have been. This was the tensest Kally had seen him since he interacted with Aphrodite. “Kally, wake up the others. Everybody needs to get out.”

As soon as the doors opened, Hunnie darted off to join Baller in attacking that floating spectral thing. Once Pax remembered to remove his seatbelt, he bolted after them. Merry wouldn’t budge. Calex, sleepily, had to carry her out. None of them wanted to wake up Euna. They took Joey’s old piece of advice about throwing things at her, mostly crumbled up pieces of Sam’s notebook. Fortunately, she didn’t assault any of them on waking. She just glared.

Sam said he’d wait at the bottom of the cul-de-sac until he heard everything was okay. He hefted up his biostats book and cracked it open for some studying. “Unicorns and golden donkeys make the perfect backdrop for studying. Besides, knowing my luck, you’ll make the house explode or something.” He made it sound like that really would be lucky. Kally was starting to wonder what this guy did on weekends, other than pick up random kids with stolen credit cards and take them to strange houses by weasel direction.

As they walked up the small incline of the sidewalk, towards the house, Axel seemed deaf to Calex’s questions about where they were and what they were doing and why they weren’t at Camp Half-Blood yet. Though his questions quieted to glee at seeing Vinyl in the yard.

Ahead of them, Pax reached the three battling creatures and dropped onto the pavement, crying, “Nietz! Nietz!” Kally thought neats was a weird thing to call when being overrun by—

“Oh gods,” Calex groaned, “Are there really three of those damned things?”

When she got close enough, Kally recognize the small specter to be another weasel, this one albino. The three weasels decided Pax’s body was a battle ground, bounding over his limbs, hiding, and ambushing one another.

Tears streamed down Pax’s cheeks as he scrambled to snatch up the albino weasel. “Axel—Axel, it’s Nietz! Do—do you think—”

           They were at the house’s property line when Axel knelt down. He touched a part of the concrete, and a green rune appeared on the ground, glowing dimly. “It’s an alarm ward,” he said absently. He clenched his jaw.

           The three weasels bound away from Pax to scamper around Axel’s legs. He reached down to pet the white weasel, who dropped onto its back and curled to bite and scratch his fingers. “Hey Nietzsche,” he greeted with a soft smile. He stood up, inhaled shakily, and said, “Whoever lives in that house will already know we’re here. Let’s check to see if everything is in the van. I want to be armed. Just in case.”  

 Thanks for reading :D Are you ready to meet the new Seventh Traitor of Olympus?

[1] My niece does this when you carry her and it is terrifying since you never know when she’ll drive to dive out of your arms.

[2] Greeting in Tamil.

[fanficcianawrites]

FIC: Potions and Promises (Perc’ahlia, one-shot, ficlet)

DISCLAIMER: Usual disclaimers apply. TITLE: Potions and Promises PAIRING: Percy/Vex (Critical Role) RATING: T for general combat violence and some strong language SUMMARY: Percy needs Vex to be okay. Vex needs Percy to not die. AUTHOR’S NOTES: This is a thing I’ve had in my head literally since December, I just never got around to writing it, and when I finally did, I couldn’t get the second part of the fic right, so I scrapped it altogether after a week of trying to figure it out, and let this just be a ficlet for the main thing I wanted to write in the first place, hence how short it is. Also, I had it in my head that it was only Vex and Vax who went to confront Raishan in the nest, so suspend that part of the canon happenings for just a bit. Also also - I’m not saying I’d love it if this is a thing that happened this week on the show, but I’d love it if this is a thing that happened this week on the show.

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“Vex! VEX!”

Vax’s panicked voice sounds a world away, a distant echo desperately trying to be heard over the ringing in her ears. Vex cringes and winces as she tries to push herself up off the ground on shaky, aching limbs. Her skin smarts and stings. Her head is swimming. Her vision is blurry. Her lungs feel as though they’re on fire, and coughing throws those flames up into her throat.

Vax’s knee almost rams into her side when he skids to a stop beside her. She feels his hands on her, trying to be careful as he urgently tries to turn her over onto her back. She coughs as she goes, and she thinks there’s blood coming up, but none does.

“Thank the gods,” Vax sighs as he helps pull her up off her back as carefully as he can and wraps her up in a hug, “I’m sorry.” He kisses the top of her head, relieved. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Sputtering against the dust that seems to be coating her insides, Vex waves him off. “Don’t be,” she tells him, “You didn’t know she’d go that far.”

“I had to do something,” he says as he helps Vex onto her feet, “She was -”

“I know, dear,” she replies, cutting him off, “I know. We’ll talk about it later.”

A huge impact rocks the ground beneath them, and Vex stumbles a little, nearly knocked off-balance again but for Vax’s clutch on her tightening. Through the rubble and dust and heat and debris, Raishan rears her head, the rest of her silhouetted in the smoke.

“So…” the dragon rumbles, and Vex swears she’s sneering at them, “This is how it is to be then.”

“It was always going to end up like this,” Vax shoots back, having to raise his voice over the din of the chaos around them, “You knew from the very start you would not be coming out of this alive! Just like we knew you would not let us live once we had taken out Thordak.”

Over the earring, she can hear several voices calling out, desperate, panicking, urgent. It helps for a while, and somehow Vex finds the strength to stand just a little straighter.

Raishan makes a sound like some sort of laugh. “Letting you live past Thordak was not part of our bargain,” she reminds them.

“Neither was letting you win!” Vex answers. The effort it takes her to be heard over the noise jolts some ache in her side, and she winces.

Raishan notices. A flash of white and sharp tells them the dragon is absolutely grinning now. “And what hope could you possibly have, little half-elf?” she says, reaching out a claw, poking at Vex’s chest enough to knock her back a step or two, even with Vax’s grip, “Look at you - bleeding and aching and hurting, pieces barely able to stay together. Do you honestly think, with what little strength and magic you might have left, if at all, that you can finish me off?”

“Absolutely,” Vax challenges, “Because you see, Raishan, we have something you never did.”

The sinister smile creeps wider across Raishan’s massive maw as she leans down, in, forward. “Oh?” she laughs, “And what might that be?”

Some ache in Vex’s ribs throbs, but it only makes her grin up at Raishan as she replies.

“Friends.”

As if on cue, Percy and Keyleth leap down into the hole, Keyleth conjuring a lightning storm right onto Raishan, Percy firing off an explosive shot into the side of the dragon’s head. They land in separate distances just as Raishan shrieks in pain, her great head rearing. As Vex watches, an axe soars through the air and embeds itself in Raishan’s neck, causing the dragon to roar some more. Grog suddenly jumps into view, aiming for the handle of his axe. Both of his massive hands grasp it as he comes down, the blade tearing into Raishan’s flesh. As Raishan comes swinging back down, she opens her jaws.

“Take cover!” Vax yells, his wings launching him up into the air as he pushes Vex out of the way. She has no time to react, and rams into the solid form of Percy, who takes less than a second to grab her and pull her away with him into a crevice and away from Raishan’s acid.

Percy helps Vex into the small space as Raishan lets out another spew of rancid fluid, his back turned outwards. “Are you alright?” he asks.

Vex nods. “Yes,” she says, panting. But as she shuffles to be less uncomfortable, that pain in her ribs bursts and blooms, and she yelps, cringing.

“No, you aren’t,” Percy says with a click of his tongue. He pats around his person until he finds a bottle, which he uncorks and shoves into Vex’s hand, closing her fingers over it. “Here, take it. It’s my last one.”

The healing potion is halfway up to Vex’s lips before she registers his words. “Y-your last one?” she stutters, eyes wide at Percy. “Percy, no.”

“It’s a greater healing potion, it should help significantly,” Percy tells her, as if this is Vex’s problem, “Take it.”

But Vex tries to give it back to him. “Percy, I can’t take this,” she tells him, “You need this.”

“No, Vex,” Percy replies, his hand in her hair, “I need you to take it. Please.”

“But Percy, it’s your last one!” Vex argues, but Percy shakes his head, and closes his hand around hers on the neck of the flask.

“I will be fine, dear,” he says firmly, “But I cannot...I don’t…” He sighs. “I cannot lose you again. I’ve watched you die once, I don’t think I could handle a second time. Please, Vex.”

She wants to retort, wants to tell him that those are all things she can say to and about him as well, but the desperate, begging look on his face tells her he won’t suffer more arguments. Instead, she pulls him to her and kisses him, hoping it will be enough to convey everything she needs to tell him. She wants to make it last, and the way his grip on her changes, warms and keens to her makes it harder to stop, but she has to, even if it doesn’t feel quite enough. She keeps him there even after the kiss ends, touching her forehead to his. The hand she has on his cheek can feel him smiling.

“Stay alive, please,” she murmurs, thumb absently running along his cheekbone.

“I can’t promise that, dearest,” he tells her honestly, and Vex tsks.

“Try, Percy, please. Promise me,” she pleads, giving the healing potion a tiny shake, “Promise me and I’ll drink this.”

Percy smirks a little at her. “Drink it and I will promise,” he shoots back.

Vex clicks her tongue at him, but he raises his brows in expectation. Vex rolls her eyes at him, but downs the potion. It burns a little on its way down, as it always does, but the effect begins to take hold almost immediately. The warmth spreads into her quickly, soothing the throbbing in her head, the stuffiness in her lungs and the pain in her ribs. She can’t help the sigh that escapes her at the relief the potion brings.

“Better?” Percy asks her, hand in her hair gentle.

She nods, acquiescing to his main point. “Lots,” she tells him, inclining the lip of the empty flask at him, “Your turn, darling. I drank. You promise.”

Percy lets out a soft chuckle. He takes her hand, clasps it gently against his chest. “I promise,” he starts, “to do my utmost and very best to stay alive.”

Vex lets out a noise of exasperation, but just then, something explodes somewhere behind Percy, sending rubble and dust up and over them. Percy instinctively bends lower in an effort to shield Vex. Any retort Vex might have had is thrown out the window, replaced with the urgency that comes with remembering where they are, what they are in the middle of.

“It’ll have to do,” she says, and grabs him by the collar to kiss him again, “Now go give that bitch a piece of our minds. I’ll catch up.”

Percy cocks his gun. “Are you sure?” he asks her, and this time when Vex nods, it is with far less pain.

She pulls an arrow from her quiver and nocks it on Fenthras. “I’m sure,” she answers, adjusting her position so she can quickly jump out of their little hiding place.

Percy gives her a final cursory nod before leaping to action, guns drawn and firing. Vex watches the shadows on the wall, waiting for her opportunity.

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