#of course there are exceptions the most obvious being percy

[nellasbookplanet]

Fantasy works commonly (though obviously not always, this is a general observation, and I'm more of a scifi enjoyer than a traditional fantasy enjoyer anyway so my pool of reference is limited) place this divide between magic and technology. The two are placed as incompatible to the point that many fantasy worlds are almost stuck in this semi historical setting, not really allowed to grow or evolve past this mythological past, as if we can’t imagine magic and technology mixing. Why would technology evolve if we have magic? The stories I think of rarely outright say this, and I think writers create these types of settings more out of genre tradition than a genuine belief in never mixing magic and technology, but it saddens me that we so rarely see secondary fantasy worlds that are futursitic, or modern fantasy worlds that aren't either an obvious mirror of our present or literally our present but with a secret magical underbelly that has had little to no impact on the evolution of the world at large.

And it just occurred to me that in critical role, the divide is more often placed between magic and the divine, while magic and technology are presented as almost one and the same, and nowhere is that more obvious than in the Age of Arcanum. The magical fey changeling of Avalir was fantasy tv personality!! Magic doesn't hinder growth or trap the world in a medieval state of nature where people become incapable of imagining technological growth due to the convenience of magic: magic is technology. Magic interweaves into their societies, their ways of life. They study it, they grow it, it doesn't hold them back any more than discovering fire or electricity held us back because it’s the very foundation of their growth. How very fitting that Corellon, god of the arcane, takes the mortal form of an aeormaton, a robot, a being we would normally consider the anthitesis of magic, but which here is the embodiement of the sameness of the two.

[mathitas]

MAY I REQUEST LIKE A NICO X READER HCS THING WHERE HE HAS A YOUNGER SISTER WHOES A LOT LIKE PERCY, JASON, AND LEO (MAYBE BIANCA TOO)???

!!

Sorry if I’m only making this now, I’m rlly busy ever since school started!

Nico Di Angelo and Younger!Sister!Reader headcanons

Honestly no one would believe you guys are siblings. Like yes, you look alike, and you’re really close, but they would never actually guess it.

You’re so different from Nico, yet it’s obvious you understand him the most.

Ever since you’ve met him you’ve always been scared you were just a replacement for Bianca. You and Nico never really talked about it, until things got too overwhelming for the both of you. Nico was trying to handle all the grief and you really just wanted to be his special little sister.

So when you open up to him, which is mostly by accident, he worries and you end up telling him everything.

He reassures you, of course he does. You would be stupid for even thinking that. You’re his little sister, his only family left (except for Hazel) and all he wanted to do was protect you and keep you by his side.

You ended up shedding a few tears, and he ended up being way softer to you the following days.

Your guys’ dynamic is truly something else.

You’re so chaotic at times, and he would seem the calm one, but we all know he really is not. Honestly, you both are so dramatic, it’s like… genuinely so funny to be around you.

Don’t even make me start about you guys fighting. Holy Hephaestus.

You’d go through Tartarus for him, and he would do the same for you. Nobody really gets him like you do, and the same thing goes for him.

At first, you had a hard time understanding him. It was truly frustrating at times. He would just not open up to you, and lie. Until he realised —well, you made him realise— that you were there to love him, no matter what.

He eventually opened up to you about his sexuality, his feelings, his past… and when you accepted him, he just never stopped counting on you.

For you, it was quite easy to open up to him, you probably did it before he did, and he was always there to listen. He wasn’t the type to talk much when you vented to him, but he would take in every information and keep it in mind. You’d notice how he changed around you, accommodating your needs, and how the people who did you wrong somehow always got punished.

You realised you had to stop telling him the names during your shit-talks sessions.

He’s very possessive and protective of you, but he calms down when he realises that people also want the best for you. If he’s not convinced, they will be going through hell just to speak to you.

You’re Nico Di Angelo’s little sister, what do they expect?

He wouldn’t trade what you have for anything else, and he’s so glad you’re here everyday. Just like you are with him.

[the-ghost-king]

since youre reading back to back, did you see any noticeable decline or improvement in quality across the series?

Yes actually! I talked about this on discord recently lol, I think out of the series Rick himself has written HoO is the weakest.

(TSaTS is actually the weakest imo, but that's because, again imo, Rick didn't even have time to write it- he was working on the show, and Oshiro being the author wasn't done entirely so the series could have a queer voice. So Rick probably just read it through once and was like "yeah this works" and they published it... that's my genuine opinion. I am also not a fan of Oshiro's work at large and this should be taken into account with my criticisms, I do not like any of their books I can tolerate Each of Us A Desert but otherwise.... I'm not a fan).

HoO has a lot of potential but it falls short just shy of all the details I think this comes down to a few things: 1) Riordan is writing from the perspective of a cishet white christian man and this is not the identity of all of the characters he's writing, 2) he did not have the skillset to write what he was writing, or he did not spend enough time reviewing/rereading the series, or 3) He tried to force too many events too close together

2) Riordan has said for the initial PJO series that it started as a bedtime story for his kids, he's gone into more detail about this over the years but essentially he's admitted that the series was read and reread again and again by his family and modified over the course of many years as he wrote it. HoO came out a little later and his kids were a bit older, from my understanding this is around the time his kids "got bored" of Percy Jackson and didn't have as much interest in it. Those family reading sessions lessened more and more and Riordan stopped getting that feedback from his kids (though his wife does still help!) and I think you can see that narratively somewhat in HoO? It's not the most obvious but PJO has a much deeper narrative on concepts like capitalism, the divine right of kings, white supremacy, ableism, etc. HoO loses some of this comparatively and I think this is because Riordan spent less time on it, those deeper themes didn't necessarily come from his kids but they did come from a deep familiarity with the world and it's characters which was likely at least partially because of the constant rereading. I don't know if he had a publisher breathing down his neck trying to crank the books out faster or what exactly went on, maybe life was just really busy along the time he was writing, I don't know why exactly but HoO had less of an eye for detail than PJO did.

1) This one feels pretty straight forward and self explanatory and there's lots of posts that go into detail on various aspects of these issues I don't feel the need to rehash those because it's what it says on the tin

3) I stand behind this actually being the biggest issue/change that caused a decline in HoO's quality - he crammed everything into too few books. HoO being 5 books is one of his longer series as he usually does books in sets of 3 or 5, but I think when you look at everything he was trying to fit together for the series 5 books wasn't enough. In most of Rick's series were introduced to narrator and the problems they're facing within the first few chapters, PJO follows this formula (it doesn't take Percy long to go to famp), MCGA (Magnus dies pretty quickly), TKC (Carter and Sadie's dad died fairly early in the series and they had to move in with their uncle), ToA (Apollo meets Meg as a mortal very quickly) - HoO does not follow this formula.

HoO gives us 2 books of "buildup", the first TLH is meant to introduce us to Jason, Piper, and Leo and it is meant to introduce us to the quest of the 7. This quest despite spurring the events of the series as a whole is actually an entirely separate quest from the quest of the 7. So now we actually only have 4 books to do the quest of the 7... except we don't because he uses SoN to introduce us to Hazel and Frank and the rest of the romans... So now we are trying to cram the end of the world (plus a side conflict with the Romans!!) into 3 books. It's definitely possible, Rick was able to do this with MCGA and TKC- however MCGA and TKC have a much smaller cast, and I think this is where HoO's downfall starts: he spent 2 books introducing characters and setting, something that would normally take Riordan maybe 15 chapters?

During those final 3 books we have multiple smaller quests that are meant to tie into Gaea's uprising: Annabeth's single quest for Athena, saving Nico from the twins, Percabeth in Tartarus, and multiple "small" quests like Leo's Archimedes Spheres, Leo getting his tool belt back, Calypso, Getting the Physicians Cure (and the mini quests that they do to get the ingredients), stopping to talk to Kym and Jason deciding to build temples, Frank reconnecting to his family's origins, Scrion, Hazel meeting Hecate and much much more. Additionally, though all this you have Rick trying to establish characters backgrounds and personalities, their interpersonal conflicts (Jason and Percy's bro-off, Leo/Sammy + Hazel/Frank love triangle-square thing, etc) and he's trying to tie all of this into "the end of the world" AND a battle between the Greeks and the Romans.

It's just way too much for 3 books to hold, it results in a failure to establish Gaea as a scary enough villian and results in her feeling weak in comparison to Kronos- almost all of TLO was dedicated to Kronos and the Battle of Manhattan, conversely despite Gaea being a larger villian (according to the what the characters and the Olympians say) we only get a handful of chapters dedicated to the final batter with her- in comparison, Annabeth's solo quest for Athena and Percabeth and Tartarus are given entire books like Kronos. Instead most of the book that is supposed to be dedicated to the final battle with Gaea is actually spent on Nico and Reyna and Coach Hedge trying to bring the statue of Athena to CHB to stop the war, and then Gaea and the Romans are kind of tacked onto the end as an after thought.

I genuinely believe HoO would have been better as a 7 book series, it breaks from Rick's typical formula but it gives more time to expand on the ideas he presents, the characters he built and their complexities as well as setting. I think TLH and SoN hold up okay if he wants to keep them as distinctive books and quests the way he did, then I think that MoA and HoH work okay as these are also divided into distinct quests (Annabeth's quest for Athena and saving Nico then HoH is Percabeth in Tartarus and the quest to meet them on the otherside for the Doors of Death, these are 2 quests happening at the same time but they tie into one another well enough that it doesn't feel overwhelming). It's the 5th book where things start to fall apart, book 5 should have been just a portion of what we see in BoO - book 5 should have been Nico, Reyna, and Coach Hedge questing to CHB with the statue as a peace offering. Then we should have gotten a book 6, book 6 should have been about the war between the Greeks and the Romans and about the battle against Gaea, or the battle of Gaea should have been its own separate 7th book. Adding two extra books on the end also gives more wiggle room for series of events that occur in the earlier books, meaning we can get more character and narrative expansion allowing for the main cast (the 7 + Reyna, Nico and Hedge) to become more complex and deep characters and it gives the opportunity for the same thing to happen with our villains (Octavian and Gaea). I don't know if Riordan didn't consider the option of extending the series out further, or if he ran out of steam and wanted to just finish up quickly.

(TSaTS conversely is weak because it has more narrative holes than all the other series and more issues with consistency, it also fails- imo- to make Tartarus as scary as it was as when Percabeth trekked it, and yes I love saving Bob as much as the next person but basically we are repeating the quest Percabeth took through Tartarus without any major variations or twists or turns.... it feels like a studio trying to copy a more successful show on a tighter budget with a worst script: IMO!!!)

So anyhow, yes there are changes in quality throughout the series but I don't find most of these changes take away from the integrity of the series as a whole. Even where HoO falls short, you can see what Riordan was attempting to make happen even if he falls just short of the mark repeatedly you can connect the dots for what he was trying to make possible and I am genuinely okay with that. ToA actually holds up really well narratively and has depth like PJO, I am not a fan of Rick's characterization of Apollo as I think he's too different from how he's depicted in the original Theoi but that's a personal issue and setting that aside I can see the quality of ToA is definitely comparative to the original series in terms of complexity, depth, and expansiveness.

I don't know how to close this out and I'm not going to try but thank you for the ask I had fun rambling about this!!

[ilikebigants]

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then Frank and Hazel happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fightingthetoxicallegations]

What are some of Theo's powers?? I love this guy lol

//OHHHH BOY hi hello welcome to my yap

SO. Theo's powers right- important to note, Theo's abilities have INSANE drawbacks. Like. Super insane drawbacks. To the point that it's barely even worth using them if at all- and they very often they're related to some weird and fucky changes in his biology, so that's fun :>

First things first, let's talk about the things that are just always there, like his misery sense — it manifests itself as a red glow enveloping any person that's feeling negative emotions, he cannot turn it off. It's why sometimes you'd see him in sunglasses, the glow just gets too bright!

Another 'ability' if you can count it as one, is the poison in his blood. It's why when he bleeds, there's a green tint to it. It can also somehow get to his sweat- it's why some of his shirts have spots that are bleached or just straight up have holes in them. He can also change the kind of poison in his system, in the future going as far as making it a poison to other animals and not humans- like liquid chocolate for example, toxic to dogs but harmless to humans ^^ on the topic of poison, he also grew fangs- or rather snake-like fangs replaced his canines, which looks... strange, to say the least. It also made his biggest salivatory gland turn into a venom gland (which, yes, he will also be able to control the kinda toxins in there as well-)

Of course he's resistant to poisons, although only the physical effects of them- so if something was meant to knock him out, it would still do that, but if something was to destroy his muscle mass, that wouldn't work and he'd be fine- essentially only mental effects of poisons work on him without destroying his body (it's why his liver's still in perfect condition!)

Okay, moving on to stuff he actually has control over, I think the most obvious one is control over poisons- any kind of them, it's like Percy's water manipulation, but with poison- if that makes sense. Along with changing the properties of the poisons! This has no particularly painful drawbacks, it's just a really basic power tbh

He could technically make small amounts of poisons from scratch, but that would take a lot of time and oftentimes it just doesn't want to work as intended and requires many corrections because it makes either too little or a completely different kind than he wanted- so that's.. fun. Takes a lot of energy out of him

THEN there's the shadow travel, but he'll take YEARS to master that one- it often takes him to different places than intended, like one time he went to Spain instead of Commodus's palace. It also often takes him to the underworld- almost always, actually, unless he has a lot of energy to spare, which isn't very common for him! So he ends up in the underworld before being able to make a second trip to the place he actually wanted to go (or not, if the power decides that it doesn't want ro take him there) a lot

He can control the Death Mist! At least to some extent- I haven't done anything with this one in a while, but it kinda gathers around him when he's stressed and stuff.. skmetimes when he doesn't wave or kick it away it envelopes him fully and he gets stuck in it for a while- but it also allows him to make physical contact with ghosts!

Lastly, the bane of his existance, something he likes to call 'the re-traumatization beam', which is essentially something that makes the person he uses it on relive their worst, most painful, most miserable memory, except- and this is the worst of drawbacks he'll ever get. Said memory copies into his mind and acts as his own. He relives it with his victim, he feels the same pains, the same emotions, the same everything. It's.. yeah, it's not very fun- gave him a lot of problems and issues about himself- also, once he starts this one, he cannot stop it, it has to run its course

I think that's all-? I know he has a bit, but most of them are just fucky biology/small background powers so yeah :> I'm glad you like my silly!! I didn't expect him to get a lot of attention lol but I love every single one of the people that follow him as he grows :D

[sophie1973]

Bloodstream (tell me when it kicks in)- Chapter 2

Well this was a labor of love (emphasis on labor) and it took forever but on the other end it is a whopping 7k so hopefully it makes up for it.

You can also read (and subscribe!) on AO3 HERE

. Manhattan, Astor’s residence - January 1891

Alex walks into the ballroom, humming softly. The string quartet is playing a piece he always enjoyed, even if he can’t remember for the undead life of him if it’s Schubert or Mozart.

He’s stopped by his hostess, Caroline Astor, and they exchange pleasantries. Her receptions are the most sought-after events in New York, not only for the fine dining and excellent champagne but it is also where you can be seen. Business transactions or illicit affairs are often concluded during those lavish soirees. Alex sometimes took that opportunity to find new clients - the fact he’d been hired to look after the Vanderbilts and Astor’s best interests rendered him a coveted lawyer in Manhattan and its surroundings. 

He notices Benjamin Harrison, but the President is not the reason for his presence tonight. In the 87 years since he was turned, he has entertained the thought several times of dabbling in politics, but that is a subject for another day.

His interest for tonight stands on the side of the dancefloor, looking rather regal in a black tailcoat over a grey silk waistcoat and assorted cravat. He is holding a glass of champagne. The gaslit chandeliers cast a pretty, golden reflection on his blond hair.

Lord Henry Fox Mountchristen-Windsor. Slayer Extraordinaire.

The youngest Hearst daughter seems to have cornered him, and if his face is all smiles and polite nods, Alex can sense his discomfort across the opulent ballroom.

Alex smiles and makes a beeline toward his supposedly mortal enemy.

This is going to be fun.

Since they met in that dark alley, he has thought of the slayer quite a bit over the past few weeks. If Alex is fully honest with himself, he has thought of Henry Fox for an unreasonable amount of time. Especially the way his body had been pliant and willing against his for a few minutes, and Alex didn’t even have to use any kind of compulsion. The way he smelled heavenly - not only the sweet aroma of his slayer's blood but also the clean linen, citrusy fragrance of his skin. It was only when he had pulled out that little pistol of his - a nice trick, Alex had been sloppy for a second and had forgotten he was dealing with a slayer after all - and took a step back that the vampire had recognized him. A distant memory of a cherished moment in his life, a photograph in a Drury Lane dressing room.

Alex has never met a slayer before—he doesn’t seek them out, for obvious reasons—except for Beatrice Fox. They met a couple of times and exchanged a few words, but he didn’t know her much. Of course, they both know what the other is, but they don’t seek each other’s company.

He knows he’s not the kind she’s hunting and is grateful for that. Word on the street (‘the street’ being mostly Percy since the others are not there to tell the tales anymore) is that she’s highly competent in her field.

And if he has a thing for competency, he doesn’t, however, have a (terminally) death wish. He does not doubt if they met in a back alley, she would kick his ass into the afterlife - and not the fun one. The one reserved for vampires and demons, where everything is bleak and depressing, and there’s a lot of screaming. That Special Hell also reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater.

Alex can tell Henry sees him arrive as his eyes widen slightly, but he schools his features just as quickly. 

Alex greets Miss Hearst just before another young man comes to claim his dance, and Alex finally finds himself alone with Henry.

“Lord Mountchristen-Windsor,” he says with a pleasant smile.

“Mr Claremont Diaz.” The tone is a bit dry, but that doesn’t deter the vampire.

“You can call me Alex, you know.”

“I’m certain we’re not sufficiently acquainted for such familiarities.”

Alex grins.

Oh yes. The British accent and posh inflections are really working for him, and so is raising the younger man’s hackles.

“Nice tie. A bit boring, though. You have something against colors?”

Henry scoffs. “Grey is a color, thank you.”

“You wore a green one at the Morgan’s last Saturday.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there,” Henry replies before pinching his lips.

Alex grins. Busted. “Oh, you noticed?  Well, I must have read it in the Home Journal.”

“No, you did not.”

Beatrice arrives, all smiles and lovely, in a pale green taffeta dress complimenting her pale skin and ginger hair.

“Mr Claremont-Diaz. How nice to see you again.”

“Lady Beatrice,” he bows, “You look stunning as always. Would you do me the honor of a dance? Unless your card is already full?” He ignores Henry’s eye rolling as Bea lets out a little laugh.

Her smile turns impish. “I’m a 27-year-old spinster, Mr Claremont-Diaz. My card is never full.”

“Well, their loss is my gain then. Can I claim the next one ?”

“Of course. Excuse me, I just noticed one of our acquaintances. I will be right back.” 

Henry takes a sip of his glass. “Your eagerness to dance with my sister is quite surprising, considering how terrified you were the last time she was in your vicinity. I remember you were rather anxious to flee with your tail between your legs.”

Alex frowns. 

“First, I don’t think you and I should discuss my tail in such a public environment,” he says, his tone slightly suggestive. He feels immense satisfaction when a lovely shade of pink invades Henry’s cheeks.

“Second, your sister might be an expert in the field, but when it comes to the dance floor, I’m the Slayer.”

Henry opens his eyes wide, his eyebrows reaching his hairline.

“That was…terrible,” he says, and Alex winces.

“Admittedly, not my best work, I agree,” he concurs, and he’s pretty sure he hears a soft snort from the blond beside him. Henry’s not looking at him, his eyes are on the crowd, but Alex can see the corners of his lips lift slightly from behind his glass as he takes another sip, and there’s a twinkle in his hazel eyes that was not there a few minutes ago.

Alex takes the opportunity to observe him. His nose is finely aquiline, with a dusting of freckles on his alabaster skin. He has a strong jawbone and lips…

Lips that are made for sin.

After 115 years of existence, Alex is comfortable enough with his sexuality to admit when another man is attractive. It took him some time (and one big crisis) to recognize he was attracted to both genders. In his defense, such inclinations would likely have had him thrown in jail (or worse) for sodomy, so he had to keep that under wraps (only June and Nora knew) and had only been able to indulge a few times in closeted establishments disguised as Gentleman’s clubs. And while it had been an exciting and satisfying experience, those quick, meaningless trysts were not really his cup of tea, especially since coffee was more his drug of choice.

So yes, he finds Henry Fox Mountchristen-Windsor attractive. Pretty is actually the adjective that comes to mind.

There’s a mole on the corner of his right upper lip, and Alex fights the sudden urge to lean and put his mouth there and see for himself if these plush lips are as soft as they look. 

Henry notices his gaze and frowns. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Alex clears his throat, shaking himself out of the stupor induced by the other man’s handsome face.  

“No.”

“Then stop staring. It is annoying.”

To this day, Alex doesn’t know what prompted him to answer like this. “Your face is annoying.”

Henry throws him an incredulous look. “Oh my God. Are you five?”

Beatrice returns at that moment, saving Alex from responding and making an even bigger fool of himself. 

He came here to push Henry’s buttons, but his conversation with Henry left him the most bemused. 

He turns and smiles at Bea, so thankful for her interruption that he thinks of sending her flowers the next day. This will undoubtedly be an unprecedented event in the history of vampire/slayer relationships.

And vampires and slayers should not have any kind of relationship.

He would do well to remind himself of that.

****

As Alex and Bea make their way to the dance floor, Henry lets out a breath. Is he relieved or disappointed that the vampire put some distance between them? He’s not really sure. 

What he’s sure of is that he’s perplexed.

The man is deeply unnerving.

He’s also deeply, deeply attractive. He’s one of the most - alright, let’s be honest, the most gorgeous man Henry has ever seen. 

Which is the crux of the problem. 

When in doubt, Henry tends to turn to his best mate, who, conveniently, is also a vampire. So there is that.

He spots Percy amidst a group of young heiresses and a few gentlemen, a likely place for him to be. His buoyant mood, cheerfulness, and eccentric clothing - tonight he’s wearing a fuschia cravat which is clashing with his ruby red waistcoat, but somehow he makes it work- makes him the center of attention, and he thrives on it. The fact that he is wealthy doesn’t hurt either, obviously. And that nobody knows he is a vampire, and that one of his most significant accomplishments has been opening shelters first in London, then now in New York, which welcome newly turned vampires and werewolves and help them adjust and adapt to their new life so they don’t become soulless monsters roaming the streets at night in search of human preys. 

To his great despair, he can’t save them all, and some don’t want to be saved, so that’s where Bea and Henry come in by trying to keep the streets as safe as possible. 

Percy notices him hovering and excuses himself to his little gaggle of admirers.

“Fancy meeting you here, poppet. How are you?” 

Henry doesn’t bother with idle chat. “Can we talk?”

Percy smiles, curiosity and mirth lightening his dark eyes. “So serious. What’s going on?”

“Shall we go on the terrace?”

“Hazza, dearest, it is January in New York. Do you know what the cold does to my complexion? We are absolutely not going outside. I’m sure we can find a nice, empty room in this big-ass mansion.”

A few minutes later, they are sitting in a small drawing room with a glass of brandy.  

“So? I’m all ears. Spill.”

Henry sees no reason to beat around the bush, so he asks, “What do you know about Alexander Claremont-Diaz?”

Percy’s eyes widen in interest. “Why do you think I know anything about him?”

“Bea told me you did. And well, you’re both vampires with ties to the High Society.”

Percy rolls his eyes at that. “That doesn’t mean we gather every Monday afternoon and gossip over blood and crumpets. This reminds me, I ordered a box of Twinings Earl Grey for you. It should arrive any day now, assuming the ship hasn’t sunk.”

Henry perks up at that because he loves his cup of Earl Grey in the morning (and in the afternoon, and at night), and the concoction they sell here pretending it’s tea is simply dreadful. 

“That’s very sweet of you, Percy. Thank you. Now answer my question.”

A sigh, and then, “He’s a lawyer, but I’m sure you already know that. He was turned at the very beginning of the century. He has a sister, June, who was turned along with him. She lives in Washington with her partner. From what I heard, he’s a decent bloke. He doesn’t kill to feed.” He takes a sip of his brandy. “That is it.”

Henry has known his best friend long enough to know that Percy is not completely honest with him, but he probably has his reasons, so he doesn’t push. He also braces for the inevitable following inquiry.

A sly grin lifts the corner of Percy’s lips. “Why do you ask?” 

And the thing is, Henry doesn’t know why he asked. He doesn’t know what it is about Alex Claremont-Diaz that is so appealing - outside of the obvious- that he has been at the center of Henry’s thoughts all these weeks. He knows it’s not compulsion - slayers can’t be compelled - so his interest (for lack of a better word) in Alex is of his own volition.

It also goes against every belief his grandmother tried to ingrain in his brain. His duty was to kill every creature that was not human indiscriminately, not caring that some of them didn’t ask for their life to be turned upside down and were victims in their own rights.  

Thanks to his parents, these beliefs never took root. If they had, Alex would be dust scattered in the wind, either at his hand or Bea’s. So would Percy, for that matter.

Thankfully, Percy is still here, and so is Alex, with glossy dark curls, whisky eyes, and a wicked, gorgeous smile, and Henry doesn’t know what to do with himself.

What to do with these feelings. He’s only met the man twice, for bloody sake. Henry’s not a blushing virgin. He’s had a few discreet and short-lived relationships, although never really anything coming close to what he read in his beloved books. He knows these are not precisely reasonable, realistic expectations, but he won’t settle for anything less. By loving men, he had already restricted himself to a life of secrets and clandestine meetings, so if he had to do it, he would do it with someone he could give his whole heart and soul to. 

Until his grandmother found out one day and called him some terrible slurs he had been too ashamed to repeat to anyone. 

After that, he had not dared entertain any idea of seeing someone, either in London or since they had arrived in New York. And after everything that had happened, it was much safer for everyone if he forwent any foolish notion of romance anyway. 

He focuses back on Percy’s friendly face and answers honestly, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, let me know when you are. In the meantime, I must mingle and persuade some billionaires to divest themselves of a few dollars. Are you coming by the shelter tomorrow?” In addition to the shelters, Percy also has an orphanage and a few other charities, and he splits the generous donations he gets between those and the shelters. 

“Yes. I promised Eloise I would bring her a copy of Sense and Sensibility. And you asked me to look over that document for the notary?”  

Percy rises from his chair with a fond smile. “Dear Haz, what would I do without you? I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He presses Henry's shoulder as he walks to the door before turning around. “You know, I’m not sure what goes on exactly in your pretty head regarding Alex Claremont-Diaz, but…maybe he’s worth getting out of that solitary tower you like to lock yourself in. I know the odds are stacked against you, considering the circumstances and the whole slayer/vampire situation, but when you think about it…you two could be making History. Even if nobody ever hears about it.”

Henry rolls his eyes. If he let Percy take charge, he would plan his and Alex’s secret wedding within the next 48 hours.  “I don’t even know if he’s into men,” he points out.

Percy winks. “Only one way to find out, darling.”

*****

Manhattan, Hearst’s Residence - March 1891

“Oh, for God’s sake, Henry, go home.” 

Henry blinks at Bea, surprised at her snapping even though he knows he deserves it.

But today is the worst day of the year. So he can be in a sour mood. He’s allowed.

He’s allowed to miss his dad and feel angry about the circumstances and how they unfolded. How they had to upend their lives because of his bigoted, evil grandmother and knowing she would get away with it because they couldn’t prove anything. They had to leave Martha and Philip behind to face her wrath, and there was no straightforward way to contact them afterward. The telegraph was still unreliable for transatlantic communication, and they could not use the telephone to call England.

He should have stood his ground and stayed home tonight, but Bea had insisted, and he foolishly thought it would help, especially if it meant coming across a certain someone—who, unfortunately, was not there.

So yes, Henry has good reasons to be mopey. 

“I’m not leaving you alone. What about your reputation?” he replies, sarcasm tainting his voice.

“I don’t give a fuck about my reputation,” Bea mutters, a bit too loudly though, as it earns her a scandalized look from a matron nearby. At least it makes Henry genuinely smile for the first time that day. “Give or take a few years, we’ll move elsewhere, and nobody will remember us.”

“Or Gran will find a way to dispose of us.”

Bea let out a small chuckle. “Cynicism doesn’t become you, brother, dear.”

“Yes, because I’m generally such a ray of sunshine. Oh hello! Lovely to see you,” he greets an older couple who stays and chats with them for a few minutes. Once they are gone, Bea turns to him.

“Just go to the library; take some time.” She puts her hand on his arm, her face softening. “I thought this would be a good idea. A distraction of sorts from this dreadful day. I don’t think Dad would want us to stay sulking at home every year.” 

He kisses her forehead, uncaring if the display of affection doesn’t follow ballroom etiquette.

“You are right, and I’m the annoying git here. I’ll go to the library. Let me know when you’re ready to leave, alright?”

Bea nods. “What do you want me to tell Mr Claremont-Diaz if he arrives?”

He frowns. “Why would you tell him anything? He’s not going to ask anyway. We are mere acquaintances.”

“I saw you talk a few times over the past few weeks.”

“Small talk. We barely exchanged a few words. Mostly because he was his usual insufferable self. We’re not best mates, and we also tried to kill each other, remember?”

“Well, that was that one time, and it didn’t seem like you tried very hard, but alright. It was just a question.”

Henry shakes his head at his sister, wondering if she’s in cahoots with Percy to bring him and Alex together for frankly incomprehensible reasons.  

“He won’t ask,” he repeats, wondering if he’s trying to convince Bea or himself. 

***

Alex spots Beatrice Fox as soon as he enters the ballroom. He grabs a glass of champagne from a passing servant and gulps it. He had worked late tonight and almost didn’t come, but the vision of blond hair gleaming under crystal chandeliers and smooth pale skin made him change his mind. Nothing of this was reasonable, and he had made a list the other day about the pros and cons of Pursuing an Actual Vampire Slayer When You are a Vampire. The pros list was an ode to Henry’s physical attributes - he doesn’t know him enough to judge his character, although he seems like a kind man if a little uptight. Then again, he’s English, which probably explains it.

The cons list has, so far, remained empty. 

To his dismay, he doesn’t see anyone fitting that description. However, if Beatrice is there, Henry must be around unless she came with a chaperone.

There is only one way to find out.

It’s not like he wouldn’t have approached her anyway. He had the opportunity to talk more with her over the last few weeks, and she’s truly lovely.

Outside of his tiny family circle, he doesn’t really care for many people, especially non-vampires. It is complicated to form an attachment to people who will start to wonder after a few years why you don’t age or will die on you after a few decades, leaving you alone once again. He knows it’s not a popular opinion, but he doesn’t see the whole ‘eternal life’ thing as an upside.

But he genuinely likes Beatrice. Even though she’s one year younger than him, she gives off that big sister feeling he has missed since June moved to Washington. So out of all the young ladies in attendance, she’s the one he will always ask to dance - never more than once, though, lest people start to talk.

She welcomes him with a warm smile, and they share some idle conversation before he finally finds the courage to ask in what he hopes is a rather inconspicuous manner. 

“Is your brother in attendance tonight?”

Beatrice looks at him with a mischievous smile as if she expected the question. 

“Do we need to have a conversation about my brother, Mr Claremont-Diaz?”

And if there’s no actual warning in her voice, Alex is smart enough to know he must be careful about what he’ll say next. 

“Please call me Alex,” he drawls with his most charming smile. Of course, she doesn’t fall for it, so he continues, “Not if it involves a pointy stick of some kind.”

She laughs.” Oh, Alex,” and he can’t help but grin. “If I wanted you dead, make no mistake, you would not be here dancing with me tonight. Which would be a shame as you are quite an accomplished dancer.”

To his utter embarrassment, he feels a traitorous blush invade his cheeks at the praise.

“And yes, Henry’s here. I believe he’s in the library. Today is the anniversary of our father’s death, and I dragged him here thinking the distraction would do us some good, but I’m afraid it was a mistake.”

Alex remembers quite well the day he learned about Arthur Fox's death three years ago and the sorrow he had felt at the news, especially considering the circumstances. He could only imagine how hard it must be for his children.

“In that case, maybe I should leave him alone.”

Beatrice stays silent for a minute, a pensive look on her face.  “You know, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…You might be the distraction he needs.” 

Alex chooses not to dwell on the feelings these words elicit in his chest. “What about you?”

“I will be perfectly fine, but I appreciate your concern.”

As the dance ends, he lets go of her and wishes her a good evening, to which she replies with a knowing smile. 

Alex is left wondering what to do. Yes, he had come tonight hoping to see Henry and exchange a few words, even some teasing, because he loves nothing more than to see the other man squirm a little bit (and also the lovely pink shade tainting his cheeks.) 

The library door is ajar, so he pushes it lightly, finding it mostly dark except for the golden glow created by the flames dancing in the fireplace. The occasional pop and hisses of the burning wood are the only sound in the room, giving it a comfortable and intimate atmosphere. Henry is sitting in front of the fire in a wingback chair with a contemplative look.

“Good evening,” Alex says softly, trying not to startle the man as he leans against the doorframe.

Henry blinks and looks towards the door. “Claremont-Diaz. Good evening.”

“Your sister told me you’d be here. And the door wasn’t closed, so…”

“You asked her?”

“Yes? Did I overstep ?”

“Damn, I’m never going to hear the end of it,” Henry mutters, and Alex pulls himself from the doorframe. This was a mistake.

“She told me about today. So if you wish to remain alone, just say the word, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Henry looks at Alex again, really looking at him this time as a fleeting emotion Alex can’t decipher crosses his face.

“I can be alone with you here,” he answers, and Alex is not sure how to take it, but it is not a dismissal, so he walks into the room and settles himself in the chair next to the young man before standing up again and pouring two glasses of brandy. He can’t speak for Henry, but he needs something to occupy his hands.

He sits back down, handing the glass to the other man, who takes it with a small ‘thank you’ before Alex takes a sip of his own and leans back in the chair. 

“You know what I said that first night about seeing your father in London and admiring him. It was true. I met him in person once and got his signature on a photograph. It was one of the best days of my life. He was really exceptional.”

“Yes, he was,” Henry breathes out, his eyes not leaving the fireplace. Moisture lingers on the corner of his eyes, and he blinks a few times as if trying to ward off the unwanted tears. Alex doesn’t say anything more, letting him set the pace of the conversation.

Which is why he’s surprised by Henry’s following words.

“How did you become a vampire?”

“Really? You want to talk about me?”

“Was my question not clear?”

“Ok, but please remember you asked for it. I’m a lawyer, so I need to talk for a living, especially in a courtroom, but outside of it, I’m often encouraged to tone it down. I have some sort of mental instability, not exactly my fault then, and you would think that when you become a vampire, that shit would disappear, but well, it doesn’t. So here we are.”

Henry’s mask of grief is replaced with one of interest, and warmth fills Alex’s chest. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Alright then. 1803, we were living in Texas with my family. My father was a politician. Fighting for his people’s rights, especially slavery and education. That did not sit well with a lot of people. One night, we were all at home, having dinner, when people barged in and shot us all. My parents died instantly, but June - my sister- and I were shot in the shoulder for her and the arm for me, so we remained alive for a while.” He stops at the complete look of horror on Henry’s face.

“Your parents died in front of you?”

“I…I didn’t see them die because I was unconscious myself, but I saw them both being shot in the chest just before I was, so I knew that there was no chance of them surviving that. But then I was sure I would follow them anyway.”

“That is…That is terrible. I only heard about what happened to my father, and it’s been haunting me for three years, so I can only imagine…”

“It was 88 years ago. Or it will be in June. So, I had some time to grieve. I still have nightmares sometimes, though.”

Alex shivers because nightmare is putting it mildly. It has been years of waking up with his heart thundering in his chest, its erratic rhythm reverberating through his entire body, his every nerve electrified with the remnants of terror that refuse to dissipate, and trying to catch his breath, feeling like he was drowning. Sweat coating his skin, leaving it clammy against the sheets. For the longest time, June had been there, then Nora as well, to help him through the residual panic and for reality to settle around him again.

But now June was in another city, and he had to navigate the nocturnal terrors alone. He was grateful they had receded slightly over the past few years but couldn’t sleep without a light on.

The irony of being a vampire afraid of the dark was not lost on him.

“Anyway, one of my dad’s close friends was there with us that night. His name was Rafael Luna. He was a vampire. When he saw that June and I were still alive, he turned us and took care of us while we were adjusting.”

He remembers the first time he woke up, the hunger and cravings, the brutal reminder of his parent’s death but no time to dwell on it because they had to learn how to feed -on people - and control the urge just to rip the throats they were feeding on before mastering compulsion and let people go. Needless to say, if June caught on to it relatively quickly, his own experience was a bit more complicated, as his vampire-heightened senses paired with his mentally challenged brain definitely made his undead life incredibly difficult.

It took him more than a year to find his footing, but he did it, making his enhanced hyperfocused mind work to his advantage for once. Also, failing both June and Raf was not even an option.

He stops talking then, taking a sip of the glass he had forgotten in his hand. He expects Henry to look bored, disgusted, or worse, with a pitiful look on his face for the intellectually deficient vampire.

Except he’s not. He’s looking at Alex with undivided attention as if Alex had just told him the most captivating story he had ever heard, like those swashbuckling novels Alex used to read when he was younger. 

Alex’s stomach flutters in quite an unusual way.

“And you’ve been a lawyer all this time? You’ve never wanted to try something else?”

“No. I’m good at it. But I never stopped and thought of what else I could do.”

“It’s not too late. You kind of have eternity in front of you.”

“Yeah…Eternity is a fucking long time, though,” he says with a laugh tainted with some bitterness. Upon seeing Henry’s surprised look, he deflects the conversation.  “So, Henry…I assume you won’t use my vampire sob story against me ?”

Henry's lips twitch softly for the first time since Alex entered the room.

“I don’t know if you ever heard this,” the young slayer responds soothingly, “but firelight is magic. It makes time stand still. When you put out the lamps and sit by the glow of the firelight, there are no more rules. You can say what you want, do what you want, and be what you want. When the lamps are lit again, time starts again. Everything you said or did is forgotten. More than forgotten, it never happened.”

Silence falls around them comfortably, and for once, Alex doesn’t feel the need to talk to break it. That being said, he disagrees partly with Henry. He doesn’t want to pretend that their time together never happened. 

“You have a way with words, your Majesty,” he finally says, his smile half playful, half admiring.

The slight twitch of Henry's mouth melts into a full smile. “We’re not even related to the Queen, Alex.”

His breath catches in his throat as a swarm of butterflies invade his stomach, and he grins. “Wait, did you just…”

Henry rolls his eyes.“Don’t make it a thing. Claremont-Diaz is kind of a mouthful.”

“Oh, sweetheart…You have no idea.”

The ‘yet’ is left unsaid but hangs heavily between them if Henry’s pink cheeks are any indication.

There is a knock on the door, and Bea appears with two coats hanging from her arm.

“Well, you too look cozy,” she remarks as she walks toward Henry, pushing back a lock of blond hair from his forehead. “And you certainly look less mopey.”

Henry huffs but gives her a fond look. As Alex watches their interaction, he’s reminded of the vacancy in his heart.

He really misses June.

“You’re ready to go?” Henry asks his sister.

“Ready if you are,” she answers with a questioning look towards Alex, who gets up.

“I suppose it’s time for me to go home as well. Lady Beatrice, Henry.”

“Good night, Alex,” Beatrice replies.

“Thank you,” Henry adds with a genuine smile, and Alex’s heart beats a little faster as he realizes something has definitely shifted between them. 

Fuck. 

****

They wait outside the mansion for their carriage, and Henry shivers slightly in the crisp April evening. Even though he’s glad to go home, he regrets the warmth of the library fire. But most of all, he regrets the warmth of golden brown eyes and heartfelt conversation. 

Bea takes his arm. “So it wasn’t such a bad evening after all,” she says softly.

He smiles. “No, it wasn’t.”

“I miss him,” she whispers suddenly, and Henry presses a kiss on her forehead.

“I think he would be proud of us,” Bea continues, her tone wistful.

“He has always been proud of us.”

“Yes, but of what we have accomplished since we got here—with Percy, the shelters, and our life.”

The carriage arrives, and the groom hands the reins to Henry. He helps Bea climb into the vehicle. “I think he would be especially proud of you and the way you’re taking care of me.” He certainly wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Bea’s maternal ways and sisterly affection. She had always been the lighthouse driving him home, helping him navigate the pitfalls, and bringing him safe on the other side.

“Oh, that’s not exactly a chore. You’re low-maintenance.”

Henry shakes his head with a smile as he sits beside her. He clicks his tongue to get the horses walking and bumps his shoulder with hers.

“I love you, you know.”

She grins. “I love you too. It’s not that late, though. Want to go kick some vampire’s ass?”

Henry’s laugh resonates in the dark street.

****

Paris, France - Champ de Mars - April 1900

“Are you seriously telling me that you hunt vampires and other night creatures on a semi-regular basis, but you’re scared of getting into an elevator?”

The iron structure stands proudly against the Parisian sky, but Henry eyes it with a wary look. It is a construction wonder, and Henry heard that its A-shaped form was an homage to a woman named Adrienne Gustave Eiffel had been in love with. He had no idea if that rumor was true, but the fairy-tale dreamer in him liked the idea.

That doesn't mean he wants to climb on the damn thing.  

“Not scared, it’s just…It’s very high.”

Alex grins. “300 meters to be exact, but we’re only going to the second floor, which is 115 meters high.”

Henry frowns, trying to stall a bit more. Not that he has any chance of succeeding. Once Alex has set his mind on something, it is an impossible task to distract him. Henry doesn’t even try. “But isn’t it closed at this time?”

Alex smiled smugly. “I have an arrangement with Gustave.”

“Darling, I’m pretty sure you’ve never met Gustave Eiffel.”

“Ok, no. But I know the next best person - the guy in charge of the visits. With a little convincing and a good wad of French money, he was extremely cooperative. I heard the sunset is lovely from up there. You’re coming, baby?”

Henry sighs, unable to deny him anything, least of all a little elevator ride, especially if it is to watch the sunset together from the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. And the excitement on Alex’s face is impossible to deny.

His vampire is nothing if not a big romantic at heart, and Henry loves him and his sometimes crazy ideas all the more for it.

They have been visiting the Paris Universal Exhibition all day, so finishing it like this is tempting.

He follows Alex to the entrance. Right now, people are leaving, and they are the only ones going upstairs. When the doors are closed, and the elevator ascends, Alex grabs Henry by the waist and pushes him against the wall. They haven’t had the opportunity to be alone all day, and Henry misses his touch.

The vampire kisses him first before letting his mouth wander along his jaw and neck, and Henry lets out a breathy sigh when he feels Alex’s fangs grazing his neck right where it is the most sensitive. His cock twitches with interest as he brings his hand to the nape of Alex’s neck, burying his fingers in the soft curls.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, darling,” he warns, panting softly. 

The suggestive smirk on Alex’s face doesn’t help to calm him down. “Oh, but I intend to finish it, if not now, within the next two hours at least.”

Henry shivers at the delicious promise, and his other hand rests on his cheek. He softly kisses the corners of Alex’s mouth, where his canines are still apparent. Alex retracts his fangs, and they exchange another searing kiss, a prelude to more engaging activities in the sanctity of their hotel room.

When they step out on the second floor, they are alone. Henry spots a round table with a bucket holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“What are you up to?” he asks Alex, melting at his partner’s charming antics.

Alex shrugs. “I just wanted a romantic interlude with my favorite slayer.”

Henry leans and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek before Alex pulls him to the rail, and they take in the stunning view in front of them.

It has been a sunny, cloudless day, and as dusk settles, they can still see all the way to the Sacré-Coeur, behind which the sun is slowly descending, illuminating the city in hues of reds and oranges, blending seamlessly with the fading blue of daylight. Much closer is the Orsay train station and the Seine and its tranquil waters, and it fills Henry with a plenitude he only experiences when close to the wonderful man next to him.

Henry takes Alex’s hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles and trying to convey his love and gratitude.

“So, was it worth it?” Alex asks with a knowing smile.

“Absolutely worth it, my love.”

Alex opens the bottle of champagne and pours two glasses, handing one to Henry. 

“To us,” Alex says, and they clink their glasses. He takes a deep breath and puts his glass back on the table. He bites his lower lip and straightens his waistcoat.

Henry raises his eyebrow at his apparent and sudden nervousness. “Something on your mind, dear?”

Alex chuckles and nods. “Actually, I had an ulterior motive for bringing you here.”

“Oh?” 

He takes one of Henry’s hands, and Henry looks down. He always loved the contrast of his smaller, pale hands against his companion’s larger, brown ones.

Alex clears his throat. “So. We are both men.”

Henry lets out a chuckle. Not what he was expecting. “An astute observation, darling.”

Alex scoffs. “Yes, not my best introduction.”

“But still better than ‘On the dancefloor, I’m the slayer,” Henry teases him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Hen,” he groans, even though his eyes flicker with amusement.  “That was nine years ago. You’ll never let me live this down, will you?”

“No,” Henry says, sipping his champagne, enjoying the effervescence and fruity taste on his tongue. It doesn’t provide the same euphoria as Alex’s kisses, but it is a close second.

“So, as I was trying to say before being rudely interrupted,” Alex continues, and Henry giggles, “It’s been nine years of pure, unadulterated happiness with you.”

Alex’s features become more serious, his gaze determined as his eyes cling to Henry’s, and Henry sobers up, feeling the atmosphere around them changing, a sudden apprehension and anticipation building at the bottom of his stomach.  

Alex entwines their fingers together, and the touch makes Henry’s blood thrum through his veins. Alex picks up on this as his eyes darken with both lust and hunger.

“I’m not as good with words as you are. I can tell you that I love you like I have done every single day over the past nine years, but those words don’t even begin to cover the magnitude of my feelings for you. It kills me that I can’t tell the world that you’re mine. Fuck, I can’t tell anyone,” he laughs brokenly. “But I need you to know that I’m yours. You can have it all.”

He fishes into his pocket and opens his hand, revealing two simple gold bands, and Henry gasps as a rushing noise fills his ears, and his heart jolts with elation.

“This ring,” Alex continues with a watery smile, “is a promise that you’ll always be loved and you’ll never have to face the world alone.”

He shows the ring to Henry, and through blurry tears, Henry can see the word ‘Alex’ engraved inside. The exhilarating feeling of Alex slipping the ring on his finger is unparalleled to anything he’s experienced. His heart hammers so hard in his chest that he’s afraid it is going to burst out and bleed all over the iron floor of the Eiffel Tower.

“I give you my love, I give you myself, the good, the bad, and what’s yet to come,” Alex says reverently. And if this is the closest to wedding vows they will ever get, Henry considers himself the luckiest man in the world.

With trembling fingers, he takes the other ring, engraved with ‘Henry,’ and gathers his thoughts, as Alex deserves nothing less than words as heartfelt as his own.  

“You are a menace,” he starts, and they both laugh at the familiar barb, which has become more of a term of endearment over the years.“I should have known you would pull something like this when you insisted on coming up here because your heart is so huge and giving, and I don’t know what I did to deserve a wonderful man like you. But I will do everything I can to be worthy of that love. I promise to support you during our shining moments and weakest hours. I’ll be listening to you for however long it takes for you to be heard. You are my forever.” 

He slips the band on Alex’s finger. “I give you my love, I give you myself, the good, the bad, and what’s yet to come,” his voice cracking as he echoes Alex’s vows. 

Alex takes his head between his hands, sealing their vows with a kiss as the sun disappears on the horizon, enveloping them in a comforting penumbra auspicious for exchanging tender words and promises of forever.    

Henry loves this man. He loves him with all his heart and soul, and he will fight anything and anyone to ensure this precious, priceless bond between them remains unspoiled and intact. And if he loves to use his words, he’s also eager to show Alex how deep his devotion runs.

It’s in the way his fingers map Alex’s body as they are back in their hotel room, perusing it like a familiar ground he knows by heart but never tires of exploring over and over again.

It’s in every gasp, moan, and laugh escaping Alex’s throat as Henry makes it his duty to find every sensitive spot, every nerve-ending lighting his body on fire before crashing together in mind-shattering pleasure.

It’s in the way that, once the passion slows down and the afterglow settles, Henry lingers above Alex, their hips still connected, and as Alex grabs his side softly to pull out, Henry makes a protesting noise, unwilling to let go yet. 

“No. Stay.”

He leans down to pepper kisses on Alex’s jaw and cheeks, blowing softly at his eyelashes and combing his fingers in his sweat-damp curls, eliciting an appreciative growl from a fucked-out, blissful Alex underneath him.  

“I just want to worship my big bad vampire husband,” Henry whispers in his ear and a bright smile blooms on Alex’s face. Henry chuckles softly as he feels the cock inside him stir with renewed interest at his words. He wriggles a bit, enjoying the feeling of Alex still nestled deep.

Alex’s arms wrap around his body, pressing their chest together, uncaring of the mess on their stomachs.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers against Henry’s lips, and they lose each other in another soft, slow kiss.

If it all ends tomorrow, Henry thinks dazedly, the look in Alex’s adoring eyes, when he gazes up at him will make everything he’s ever done worth it.  

Credit where credit is due :

1. I'm a Whedonverse girl through and through, so the Special Hell quote is from Firefly (You can't stop the signal)

2. The firelight quote is from the movie 'Firelight' with Sophie Marceau (which would make a great FP AU)

3. A special thanks to my beloved Robs @magentarivers whose lovely art inspire me (again!) for the very last scene of this chapter. It can be found here

[missizzy]

Perc'ahlia Week Day 3 Fic

Vex would later think Trinket has sensed something off about Percy from the beginning, probably without consciously realizing it. Not that she thought animals could magically sense evil things like demons, but she'd known their abilities to sense things like earthquakes and storms, things that could threaten them and theirs.

Of course he was nervous around each of their new companions when they first joined them, though he took to Keyleth surprisingly quickly. (And when Vex would've thought the opposite; her changing species must have seemed bizarre to him at first.) It wouldn't be until Tary joined them that he showed himself more used to new friends coming in. So it made sense when he was initially wary of Percy.

When the possibility of marrying Percy started feeling like more of a probability, Vex asked Trinket, on a lazy day where she could cast Speak with Animals multiple times without worry, what he thought about that. Trinket was generally happy with the idea; he knew Percy made her happy, and had become convinced he'd make a good mate, too. "I think he was a threat once, but now he just protects us, right?"

Vex regretted then that she couldn't really ask him what he meant by that; getting that sort of nuance was beyond the abilities the spell gave them. Although Trinket, since he had reached adulthood, had witnessed enough behavior from the people around him that he could usually tell the basics of what was going on. And of course, not only had he been present for the conversations they'd had with Percy when they'd been trying to free Whitestone, but he'd first seen the smoke, and then even delivered the final blow on the entity responsible when they'd first fought him.

So he might have easily just meant all that. But it was then that she also thought how how he'd constantly been sniffing at Percy and looking nervous around him during his first days with the group, and so also wondered if he'd marked Percy as a threat for much longer, for different reasons. Or maybe his having the sticks that made big scary noises had just freaked him out, and the behavior before he first fired them had been because he'd been the only newcomer to focus on.

In any case, Vex hadn't needed magic to understand Trinket's behavior when he was one of the few present when she married Percy. The way he ruffled against him and and growled softly spoke an obvious message she translated for him: Trinket would give Percy a fair chance to be a good mate, but would keep a sharp eye on him nonetheless. Of course, Percy declared himself quite glad to know Trinket was doing his part both keeping him in check, and protecting Vex.

Her thoughts about what Trinket could sense in Percy returned one more time: during her fourth pregnancy, where a constantly elevated body temperature served as an indication their fifth child might turn out to be a Tiefling. Trinket, who had already shown an ability to detect her pregnancies himself and maybe get more solicitous of her as a result, this time, on one still early day, went sniffing at her womb, then stared as her with an expression so flummoxed she very nearly laughed.

Except it wasn't entirely funny, as she then cast the spell and asked him, "You don't think I'm being threatened, do you? You've never had a problem with Zahra, not really."

"A cub's never a threat!" Trinket exclaimed. "And you don't smell like Zahra, you smell like Percy when he was dangerous. It's weird."

Most of that was reassuring, but Vex did feel the need to ask, "You won't go ask him for inflicting this particular baby on me, will you?"

Trinket seemed to have to think about that for a moment, but then said, "Not so long as he continues to be good to you and to all your cubs."

He got over the smell, after that. It was true he'd never had a problem with Tieflings, and when Gwen was born, she really was like her siblings had been to him. Vex wasn't sure if he really even understood how she was different, even if she'd cause her mother to smell different. He did seem to eye Percy a little more in the days following the birth, but if anything he was even more of an attentive husband and father than he had already been, and Trinket probably couldn't even recognize the guilt in his eyes. Bears didn't feel guilt, beyond maybe an occasional immediate and brief reaction to having gotten someone they cared about hurt.

Ultimately, by that time in his life, Trinket definitely had his own views about mates and the raising of cubs. They were ones, Vex knew, that weren't a normal bear's views, if a normal bear's attitudes towards the subject could even be called that. This became very clear when, not long after Gwen's birth, he unexpectedly found a mate of his own.

He really hadn't had much contact with other bears in general, and none for years, when a female bear wandered into the Parchwood and made it her home. Trinket actually found her by himself weeks before anyone in the Grey Hunt did, and they found it suitable to mate with each other soon after that. But then Trinket showed her Whitestone, and managed to communicate to her that he wanted them to raise their cubs together in the castle, which had confused her greatly.

"Boy bears don't do that," she explained to Vex, when they magically conversed for the first time. "I know some boy animals do that, but bears don't. My mom mated with my dad, then they went away from each other, and she raised me without him, and I can raise my cubs the same way."

It made Vex think for the first time that maybe what she'd done with Trinket, raising him so much in the world of people, especially when she and Vax had stopped living so much in the woods, had been a little bit of an extreme thing to do with a bear. Not a wrong thing, necessarily, if only because there hadn't been many options when she'd first taken him away, but still.

Eventually, the idea of having constant warmth and food available brought Trinket's new mate to the castle shortly before she gave birth. Both she and Trinket warned Vex, though, that she had no intention of being a fully domesticated bear. She even requested they not give her a name. "Animals have names when they belong to people," she said. "I won't belong to people." Vex duly instructed everyone to not name her; she could be referred to easily enough just as "Trinket's mate."

Percy had already agreed to take her in, and he even allocated the bears their own space within the castle, one that made it easy enough for them to also act as guard bears when they were there and awake. But Vex, to her own private amusement, sometimes thought his reaction to her was not unlike Trinket's friendly but ever watchful reaction to him had been.

"Well, of course I have concerns," Percy said to her. "Remember wild bears often view people as for eating, even if Trinket has no doubt made clear to her we aren't, and you even said she won't be tamed entirely. But if she has accepted we're not to be harmed, well, then, let Trinket have his mate here, right alongside yours."

She came and went as she pleased, sometimes disappearing off into the woods for days at a time. After Charlie was born, she usually took him with her, determined he would know how to live as a wild bear as well. Sometimes Trinket went with them, too, and Vex thought he looked a bit refreshed when they came back. Which kept her from minding; indeed, she couldn't help but admire her determination.

She also responded more to the advent of winter than Trinket did. Neither of them had to fully hibernate when living in Whitestone, but even as he showed all the signs of how much older than her-and most other bears-he was, she was the only who slowed down and was much less inclined to step outside the castle once it got cold enough. Which, ironically, meant that when little Vax'ildan and Charlie decided that was when they wanted to venture out on their own for the first time, it was her, sleepy and possibly also pregnant again, who stayed behind in the castle, and Vex and Trinket who walked them to the outskirts of town.

There Vex hugged her son, whispered him her various reminders all over, and told her she loved him, while the bears said farewell with soft sounds and headbutts. They stood together, listening, until their sons could no longer be heard even by Trinket's ears.

On the way, Trinket gave Vex the specific whine that had become his way of requesting she cast Speak with Animals. When she did, he said, "I think Allura was right, that I won't die until you do. I feel old, but I think I should feel older."

"Does it bother you?" Vex asked. "I don't want you to leave me ever, but if staying that long would be too much for you..."

"I don't want to leave you alone," said Trinket. "I know it'll be bad once they starting dying."

"Not all of them will," said Vex. "Some of our friends will live even longer than me. And also, I've been talking with Keyleth about Danny, and she says he might become like her, which would make him live a very long time as well. Or he might be become like me, and Charlie might live as long as him, then."

"That would be nice," said Trinket.

The spell had worn off by the time they reached the castle, with them instead sharing a comfortable silence as they headed in. They found Trinket's mate where they'd left her, still dozing away, and, much more surprisingly, Percy dozing against her.

Vex's laughter woke both of them up. Together they raised their heads, looking rather caught out. The bear only for a moment, before she lowered her head back down and returned to her nap, but Percy remained pink-faced as he hastily scrambled to his feet.

Trinket, inclined to nap himself after the day's exertions, headed to join his mate. On his way, he moved to nudge the mortified Percy, and give him a reassuring look. "He's glad," Vex told her husband, thought she didn't really need to.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

obscurial!Reader gives himbo vibes and no one can tell me otherwise

like, yeah, maybe he’s incredibly book smart but people skills? right out the window. poor man has no survival instincts. he’s been beaten and broken so many times that the need to be good outweighs anything else even if it puts him in dangerous situations. and people think the kindness comes so easy to him when his laugh lights up a room but Merlin none of them know the truth.

I absolutely love this and I’m so totally down for Himbo!Obscurial!Reader!! Like, this poor guy has been through it, just so much; physically, emotionally, and mentally, that he just wanted one good thing in his life but never had it so he instead became that good thing himself. For the most part he hides what he went through and the severity at which he suffered extremely well, whether he does so consciously or not, and to those around him except a select few wouldn’t be any the wiser to any of it. But Albus and Minerva especially have picked up on or have knowledge of what Himbo!Reader has gone through, there’s little things that give it away. Maybe it’s the semi-obvious way he flinches when someone moves too fast or when there are loud noises, maybe it’s in how he must needs to constantly be reminded to take care of himself otherwise he won’t (strictly because he forgets to, not seeing himself and or his wellbeing as a priority by any means). Or how he goes into habits of shutting himself away from others only to act like nothing of it when he comes back, waving off anyone’s concern or questions about it. Himbo!Obscurial!Reader isn’t used to anyone worrying about him or checking up on him so it’s all new for him once he starts working at Hogwarts and has the students and other staff members sticking close to him and keeping an eye on him. Minerva especially is keeping a very close eye on the Reader and has a very deep fondness for him.

I imagine Himbo!Obscurial!Reader being muggle book smart but of course being completely clueless about the magical world and everything pertaining to it due to his growing up but I absolutely think that in his childhood he found solace in reading. Books were the only thing that allowed him to experience a vast variety of whatever he wanted to be a part of and that’s what helped him along the way, it was his way of escaping and it still is. I feel like Hermione and Percy would definitely stock the Reader up on books, both magical and muggle ones. I think the two of them would feel more connected to Himbo!Reader that way. And if the Reader were to recommend any or give either of them books from his own collection they would absolutely adore it. You can bet the books they get from the Reader will be so taken care of and loved. Also, I imagine that the books the Reader reads/has are strictly story books, nothing really educational unless it’s about baking/cooking or animals and or botany, just hobby/interest related stuff. I also like to think that Himbo!Obscurial!Reader formed his own personality and way of seeing the world through the books he read (and of course from the terrible treatment he suffered) and that’s why he is more generally naive about things and just blindly getting himself into situations. It also doesn’t help that now he’s being brought into the magical world after all this time and is still trying to figure things out but he’s got a good attitude about it and his happy to go on this adventure. Not to mention he has all these new people by his side which he’s even more happy about.

Speaking of which, I imagine that Obscurial!Reader didn’t have many friends, if any, growing up so whenever he meets someone new he automatically claims them as his friend, no matter who it is. Which down the line is definitely going to cause issues but what’s comin will come and he’ll meet it when it does (spoiler: it’s more yanderes!).

Imagine everyone else’s reactions when they find out what Himbo!Obscurial!Reader had endured for most of his life?👀 All hell would break loose and the people who hurt him will surely pay for all of it, slowly and painfully.

[justonemorechapternicercy]

In the beginning, he found it hilarious how others behaved around Percy. They were like a pack of hungry wolves salivating at the sight of the most delicious sheep they had ever seen. It was kind of funny how many of them had to enjoy the hospitality of the infirmary because they did something moronic just to get the pretty hero's attention.

The difference between then and now was, of course, that Will had no real contact with Percy yet, only when the demigod was injured and half-dead.

Nowadays, he couldn’t help but find it fucking annoying when he had to watch every demigod and god vying for even a fraction of Percy’s attention, like thirsty people in the desert seeking an oasis. It helped that Percy almost never gave the impression of reciprocating in any way their interest – with the notable exception of Rachel Elizabeth Dare, who, thankfully was their virgin Oracle now, thus, out of the competition -, always friendly with everybody, but largely oblivious to even the most obvious flirtations.

Will didn’t really mind the flirting from people he knew were considered as family by Percy – Annabeth, Jason, Nico -, but when it was from beings who did not deserve even an ounce of Percy’s attention, it made him furious. Especially, when it came from his own father, Apollo. Or from that fucking feathered thieving god - or his sons.

He kind of wanted to do something that would make sure everybody knew Percy was his. Mark them. He considered biting them, but one shower, and his teeth marks or hickeys were immediately gone. Tattoo was not an option, because Percy didn't want anything else tattooed on their body, and permanent marker was tacky.

But he figured it out. He gifted Percy the sign of his mark, and his beloved wore it proudly:

A collar.

It didn't work.

He should have seen it. He really should have...

Of course, it didn't work; seeing Perseus Jackson proudly preening in a collar just made the whole fanclub want to make them wear their collar, instead of Will's. It was maddening.

But he had one thing to keep him sane: Percy. Even if everybody wanted a piece of them, Percy was loyal, and if he loved someone, he loved them. And that was the most important thing for Will.

[marquise-of-midnight]

The zodiacs signs of the pjo/hoo characters make just so much sense.

Percy being Leo, of course. It's obvious.

Piper being Gemini, once you see it you can't unsee it because she is so gimini

Jason is cancer. Argo II's mom is cancer. He is literally the most cancer character of all time.

Leo is also a cancer, I can see it. He's too emotional for not being a water sign

Annabeth cry when she sees a cute puppy of course she's cancer

Hazel is a Sagittarius. Like, of course our horse girl is Sagittarius.

Nico is an aquarius, he is too emo and like being alone too much to be something else.

Thalia IS Capricorn. (And she used to be tree so it's kinda funny that she's an earth sign)

(Frank is a exception, him being a Gemini don't seem right)

[thegirlwhowrites642]

are there any themes, motifs, phrases, symbols, narrative devices or anything else that come up multiple times in different stories you've written? what are they, and why do you think they recur in your work?

Such an interesting question! Thank you.

I think I bring back a lot the concept of finding peace in someone in the middle of chaos. It's what attracts me the most about Harry and Ginny I believe. But I think it's something that I put a bit also in Percy and Audrey when I wrote their story. And I know it's something that I enjoy using in my original work. I suppose it is something I wish for in my life.

I'm also going to add a panic attack when it makes sense because for personal reasons it's something very cathartic for me to write. In general, I tend to write a lot about dark themes, and mental health, but also always associated with the contrast of light and healing, which I think it's pretty obvious when you read Back to the Eclipse, my first, and at the moment only, complex and long fanfiction. But knowing my original writing I see simply myself following my usual pattern even in fanfiction. A bit comes from personal struggles and a bit from this fascination I've always held for the themes of light/darkness, good/bad, life/death. It's basically in anything I do just in different forms. From the fact I study law to my end-of-middle-school thesis (it's a thing in my country) that was about Sherlock Holmes and the birth of criminalistic (I was a very well adjusted 13-years-old). I also know a lot about religions for example. And you should read some stuff I wrote as a child, like, why nobody thought of bringing me to, not even a psychiatrist, a priest for an exorcism is a mystery to me.

I love family dynamics. Even when they are ugly. This is more me being Italian I think. In English literature, you have all these orphans and found family, and to be honest, I find it appealing only to a certain point. In Italian literature is all generational trauma!, how to deal with both loving and hating your family!, it's a cultural thing. And, well, not to increase the stereotypes about Italians and family, but family is very important to me. I'm sorry too, a chat between Ron and Ginny, is one of my favourite pieces of fanfiction I've written.

When the story is complex enough I very much love to put in some symbolism (you can always see it in my love for bringing back Harry's bright descriptions of Ginny). Back to the Eclipse has a decent amount of it, from dates to other details (I'm still waiting for people to tell me if they spotted some of this stuff), because I feel like a story should have layers, it should tell you something new every time you read it, it should be worthy of being read again (and because I'm a nerd who loves to complicate her life). I don't think though that I have specific symbols I bring back, I think they should be studied in the context of the specific story and characters.

At last, when it comes to narrative techniques, I have to say that I like to go straight to the point. Some writers like to indulge for pages on creating a frame for a very specific scene but, with the exception of some particular masters of the craft, they are often parts that I can't wait to finish when I read and so when I'm the one writing I don't indulge in that (it often feels like an unnecessary showing off of artistry). If it's necessary for some reason of course I write it but otherwise, I just like to get into the thick of the story.

[blunt-force-therapy]

Nah Harry Potter sucks ass as a whole and apparently you must to if your keeping lip locked with that puckered butthole of a series. Go read more books and maybe you'll see whats actually out there

It's interesting how you people assume no person who read Harry Potter has ever read anything else. That's definitely not the case here, but I won't take this opportunity to boast about how much I read even though I REALLY want to

I don't necessarily like the Harry Potter series for its quality. A lot of it was written to capitalise on the success of the previous book, and it's very clear reading it now (as if it wasn't clear to people then). Not to speak of the obvious moral and political problems that are simply never addressed or recognised.

No, the reason I like the Harry Potter series is that, when I was a child, these books, along with the Percy Jackson series and Brazilian literary classics I doubt you'd recognise, like Dom Casmurro and The Alienist, served as a form of escapism at a time when I was continuously depressed and relentlessly bullied by everyone around me. I was then able to relate with some of the characters and not see myself as completely worthless or out of place, but simply in a different place.

Things have improved since then, thankfully, but I still remained 100% a fan until, of course, JKR finally decided to ruin everything for everybody over trans people existing, and since then, I've not engaged with any official Harry Potter content, or anything at all coming from She Who Must Not Be Named, but instead decided to enjoy what the fans made of the characters that I love, because, more often than not, a fanfiction writer isn't too concerned with being aggressively racist in their work and has approximately $0 to gain from it, and, consciously or not, happen to fix many of the most flagrant flaws with the characters (except Harry. Harry is apparently untouchable and perfect in every way here).

I understand why in 2023 someone might hate the Harry Potter series, and I think hating the author is basically a requirement for anyone with empathy, but I think we could use better manners here

[timelesslords]

invisible string

read on Ao3 

Missing scene from Mark of Athena- Annabeth realizes the curse of Achilles is gone. 

Annabeth wasn't one to call fighting monsters fun, but she might just have to make an exception for ones made of tar.

Okay, so the actual monsters hadn't been fun. And really, fighting monsters was never really fun. But she couldn't deny that there was something exhilarating about fighting alongside Percy again, after so many months apart. She had been worried that they might be out of step, that the distance and the time might have weakened the bond they shared. That Percy's memories wouldn't quite be the same, or still be distant and fuzzy like Jason's. But they were as in sync as ever. As soon as the first monster had risen from the tar, all it had taken was one glance to solidify their strategy for dealing with it.

Add in Percy's new shape-shifting friend Frank for a speedy getaway, and Annabeth had the most fun she had had in months. Of course, there was still the minor issue of actually getting the ship in flying shape once they got back. And being separated from Percy again, even if it was only a few floors away, instead of hundreds of miles. And the aftermath of trying to get the tar out of her hair– that had been something Annabeth seriously never wanted to repeat. 

But something was bothering her, something she didn't have the time or mental energy to explore until she was sitting on her bunk, trying to dry her hair. Percy had fought impressively; he always did. But he hadn't been the one-man army Annabeth had gotten accustomed to, during and after the war. He hadn't been invincible.

She wasn't sure– wasn't positive– but her gut was telling her that something was off. And she thought she might know what, even though the thought of it made her stomach do somersaults. 

They were going to have a meeting in the mess hall soon, and she didn't have a lot of time. But she had to know. So Annabeth slipped out of her cabin, making her way towards the one she knew Percy had claimed an hour or so earlier. She knocked, but didn't wait for a response before opening the door. 

"Hey," Percy said, sitting up from his bunk. He looked pleased to see her, his classic troublemaker smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"Hey yourself." Annabeth said, letting herself in and shutting the door behind her. It wasn't technically allowed for them to be in the same room together alone, especially with the door closed, but Annabeth had brought her invisibility cap just in case. She could probably slip it on fast enough to avoid being caught. Probably.

Percy scooted over, making room on the bed for her. She sat down next to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. It felt so nice to just be together Annabeth almost didn't bring it up, but the long, shallow scratch on the arm holding her made that impossible. 

She traced the scratch with her finger. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet here it was, staring at her in the face.

"It doesn't hurt." Percy said, noticing her attention, but misreading her concern. 

"But it shouldn't be there." Annabeth said. 

Percy looked at her strangely, like he didn't understand what she meant. Annabeth felt a cold and familiar fear in the pit of her stomach. Ever since they had cracked Hera's sick riddle and figured out that Percy and Jason had been swapped, Annabeth had been haunted by the very real possibility that even if they managed to find Percy, he wouldn't remember her. Obviously that hadn't happened, but this wasn't a small thing either. What if Percy's memories weren't as intact as he was letting on?

"The curse of Achilles," Annabeth prompted, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, "You should be invincible." 

"Oh! That." Percy said, recognition finally flashing across his face. Annabeth was suddenly torn between abject relief and the very strong urge to yell at him for making her panic. She settled on relief. 

"I had to give it up when I crossed the Tiber.” Percy explained, “Hera– or Juno, whatever, she said it was a Greek curse, that I couldn't carry it into Roman territory."

Without thinking, Annabeth took her free hand and slid it around Percy's back, brushing her fingers over the small of his back, his Achilles heel. Percy had told her that it felt like a thousand little lightning bolts were racing up and down his skin, when she touched it. She remembered the look in his eyes when he had guided her fingers there for the first time, equally terrified and exhilarated. She got no such reaction now; just a sort of sad apologetic look. 

She pulled back her hand. Annabeth had already known intellectually that it was gone, but it still felt like something had snapped inside her.

"Oh." Annabeth said. 

"Disappointed?" Percy asked. He was studying her expression carefully, like he was trying to decipher a puzzle. 

Annabeth sighed. She'd originally started calling him Seaweed Brain because he could be so obtuse sometimes, especially when it came to reading her. He hadn't even realized she liked him after they'd kissed in that stupid volcano, for gods' sake. But the longer they knew each other, the more difficult it became for her to hide anything from him. He was actually surprisingly perceptive, especially now that he knew to be looking.

"No, no." Annabeth said, wrapping her hand in his, "I just– I don't know. It feels like a bad omen." 

"I've honestly gotten used to not having it." Percy admitted. He interlocked his fingers with hers, and Annabeth was pleased to find that they fit together as perfectly as they had before. That, at least, hadn't changed.

"You never really needed it." Annabeth said, truthfully. Percy had always been a skilled fighter. And, okay, maybe it had been necessary for the war, but only because they had been so hopelessly outnumbered. But unless they were facing 250 monsters to one demigod again, Percy could easily hold his own without it.

"You're still upset though." Percy noted. 

Annabeth bit her lip. She felt a bit stupid for it, but she wasn't really upset about Percy losing the protection. Sure, it sucked that he was a little more breakable now, but he hadn't exactly been very breakable to begin with. 

In truth, she felt worse that the connection between them forged by the Achilles curse had been wiped away. Not just her having taken that knife for him, though that was part of it. Percy had told her later that the thing that had kept him tethered to his life, to himself when he bathed in the Styx had been her. She had been his lifeline, literally. Maybe that was how she had known to take that knife for him in the first place, because that little spot had tied them together in some hallowed, inseparable way. 

And now it was gone, along with their matching grey streaks, the only other physical reminder of the bond they shared. Annabeth was embarrassed to admit how much it had upset her when the grey had finally worn out of her hair. 

"It's just... I don't know. It feels someone cut an invisible string between us." Annabeth said. 

Percy nodded, like he understood, and Annabeth knew he did. knew he was thinking of all the same things she was. As if to prove it, he took his free hand and brushed the one curl that had once been grey behind her ear. She, too, could pick out his strand of hair that the sky had marred, even if it had turned dark again. 

"I felt like that too, at first." Percy admitted, "I didn't want to give it up. I knew it was important somehow. But I also knew if I wanted to see you again, it was the only way." 

Annabeth looked in his eyes, warm and earnest, and felt something in her chest glow. It was still incredible to her that he had remembered her, despite Hera's full force. She knew it had to have been him, and just him; Hera hated her too much to leave the memory of her in his mind. 

"I guess I can deal with you being a little more delicate. As long as we're together." Annabeth said. Percy smiled, squeezed her hand.

"Delicate, huh?" 

"Like fine china." Annabeth teased, "I'm going to have to watch out for you."

"You always watch out for me." Percy smiled. 

"Somebody's got to." Annabeth said.

They sat quietly for a minute, just enjoying each other's company. 

"You're still my lifeline, you know." Percy said, suddenly, "Wiping away the curse didn't change that." 

It was Annabeth's turn to squeeze his hand, because if she tried to speak she thought she might cry. She settled for kissing him instead, slow and sweet, revelling in the fact that he was finally back with her again.

They only broke apart when Annabeth heard footsteps coming down the hall. She managed to shove her hat on just as Piper knocked on the door.

"Come it!" Percy called, desperately trying to straighten out his shirt. Annabeth bit down the urge to laugh.

"Meeting in the mess hall in five." Piper said, poking her head in the door, "You too Annabeth."

"She's uh- she's not here." Percy said. It was so deeply unconvincing, what with Percy's flushed face and mussed hair, that Annabeth actually had to cover her mouth to prevent a giggle from escaping. Piper smirked. Even if she hadn't been a daughter of Aphrodite, the scene would have been fairly obvious to most onlookers. And Piper was most definitely a daughter of Aphrodite.

"You're a terrible liar." she said, amused, "But whatever. If you happen to see her, could you let her know?"

"Yeah. Yup. I can do that." Percy said, but Piper had already disappeared down the hall. Annabeth shimmered back into view, unable to hold back her laughter anymore.

"Is she always like that?" Percy asked, his face still red. 

"Oh yeah. I think you're going to like her." Annabeth said, standing up, pulling Percy with her. They walked down to the mess hall hand and hand.

So maybe the curse was gone, and the grey streaks in their hair had faded away. But they didn't need those physical reminders of each other, not really. He had remembered her, and she had found him. They were tying new invisible strings to each other, ones that couldn't be severed by any sword, or any river or any god. 

And Annabeth had a feeling this was just the start. 

[harrypotter-imaginess]

Commission info for Love Letters from your favorite character here!

- Honestly, your probably meet him through his Dad or all people

- You meet Arthur at the store, you’re probably at a department store or the grocery store

- Maybe you work here, maybe you just come there weekly to run errands

- But you’re probably a personal shopper

- And you’re looking for something in particular, but every time you go to that section, there’s this lanky middle aged man just standing there

- And you really don’t want to get involved

- But your over active imagination gets the best of you

- What’s if he’s a widower? And he’s just not used to shopping because his partner did all of that

- Or what if he’s trying to get a gift for his new love interest and he’s just trying to get back out there

- And well, if he is a widower, and he just needs some help- shouldn’t you help him?

- Isn’t that just the right thing to do?

- So even though you don’t want to get involved, you very hesitantly approach this red haired man

- “Um, excuse me sir- but is there something I can help you with?”

- He lights up when you approach him

- Looks like the poor thing is a widower

- “Would you explain the purpose to me of this item?”

- He’s holding up a bath kit, one that comes with a bath bomb, some bath salts, and bubble bath soap

- “Um well it’s a bath kit sir”

- He looks at the package for several ing moments before pointing to the circular bath bomb

- “Is this a sweet? Is it a treat you eat when you’re in the bath tub?”

- You practically fall over yourself rushing to tell him that no, it is in fact not a treat

- “It’s like a bubble bath type of thing, you drop it into the water and it turns the bath a certain color, this ones a fortune type so after it’s done fizzing out you get a little fortune.”

- “Well isn’t that fascinating, you Muggles are quite remarkable”

- You don’t think it’s that amazing, just some baking soda and aromatics

- Also what’s a muggle? Is that some middle age slang for young people?

- You help him to the register, and you think that’ll be it, you’ll probably never see him

- So imagine your surprise when you see him again next week, this time in front of a completely different section with the same expression

- “Well hello again, can you help me with this?”

- It’s sort of a fast friendship, you learn a little more about him with each visit

- He is in fact, not, a widower

- He has 8, no 7 children

- And he works for the government

- “A glorified paper pusher really” he says, but you get the feeling he’s being humble

- “How old are you, if you don’t mine me asking?”

- You tell him and he smiles

- “That’s how old my Son is, you two would be a good match.”

- “Which one? Don’t you have seven?”

- He smiles, because you still count Fred as his child even though he’s gone, just like him

- “Take your pick, I’ve got a whole volleyball teams for you to pick from”

- You laugh

- He’s a nice guy, the exact image of what a dad is, you think

- You like him

- Arthur likes you too, he thinks you would be a good match for Percy, maybe George

- He wants to give Percy a fighting chance, he’s a good boy-

- But he’s got his nose stuck in a book most days, Arthur considers it lucky if he ever gets married

- So it’s in early winter that he drags Percy with him to the department store hoping he’ll run into you

- “Why do I have to come along again?”Percy asks grumbling as he walks beside his father

- “Because I’m buying gifts for my department-“

- “You never buy us any gifts” Charlie teases from his other side

- Arthur also brought Charlie, to seem a little less obvious about his intentions of setting you up with one of his children

- He figures Charlie is the most harmless, if you see Bill... well that would be disappointing for you

- considering he’s married and all

- And the scars might raise more questions than he’s willing to answer

- And then Ron was busy at the ministry today, an emergency or something.

- He’s already decided as he walks through the store that if this doesn’t work out, he’s bringing George next week-

- And if that doesn’t work out, well-

- Maybe Ginny would be more your type

- how solid are Harry and Ginny really

- He’s so caught up in his own mental gymnastics that he doesn’t realize one of his sons isn’t following him until he’s well inside the store

- “Where’s Percy?”

- “Oh, he left like 15 minutes ago to take a phone call for work, but I bet he snuck off to that bookstore across the street.” Charlie says casually eyeing a brightly colored display

- Arthur sighs, well he does need to get some gifts for the kids, almost Christmas and all

- “Hello Arthur, what are you dissecting today?” You ask when you see him

- “Just picking up gifts with my son-“

- A small frown lilts onto your face, his son?

- It’s only a little shift of your head and you see him

- Well isn’t he just gorgeous

- He’s got a firm build, toned arms littered with dozens of scars and burns

- His face is chiseled, with a light dusting of red hair, matching vivid hair is long and pulled into a bun

- And the deepest brown eyes you’ve ever seen

- Damn what a hottie

- Arthur should have told told you his son was a total smokeshow

- And he’s got 6 of them?!? Are they all this gorgeous?

- Arthur doesn’t miss the way you look at Charlie

- And one glance at Charlie is all He needs to know that the feeling is mutual

- Why didn’t he think of Charlie?

- Well- actually he had started to think that maybe Charlie just didn’t feel that way about people.

- And so, to be supportive, he wasn’t going to push him into any romantic relationship

- But well since he seems to find you pleasing-

- “This is my son Charlie-“ he says putting both his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and jerking him closer to you

- A light red begins to dust Charlie’s cheeks, wether it’s from embarrassment or attraction he’s not sure

- You fidget in front of him feeling oddly self conscious

- “Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N)”

- He takes you hand in his with a firm squeeze and you feel a little lightheaded

- His hands are surprisingly soft

- On closer inspection he’s got a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose

- Adorable really

- “So how do you know my dad?” He asks when Arthur is busy /giving you two time to get to know each other looking through the candle selection

- “Oh um I don’t know I guess we just became friends talking about how stuff works?”

- It’s a little weird to think about it, Arthur is your dads age, but he’s like your friend?

- It’s kinda weird tbh

- You wonder how Charlie’s digesting it but he just grins

- “Yeah that sounds like Dad.”

- It’s cute, the way he looks at his Dad

- You remember hearing about Charlie, that he works far away and that Arthur and his wife worry about him. And that he likes animals

- It’s kind of like meeting a celebrity, you know all about him

- except for the fact that he’s a wizard of course

- Well, it was nice meeting one of Arthur’s famous son’s, you suppose he’ll go back to Romania soon and -

- “I was wondering-“ he leans down, his voice low “if you might do me a small favor?”

- Your eyebrows thread together and your head tilts to the side a bit

- “It depends on what it is”

- Charlie only grins

- And so you find yourself standing in front of King’s Cross Station on your next free day, wearing a nice outfit that seems neither too causal, or like you’re trying too hard

- Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt until you see Charlie round the corner

- Well doesn’t he look absolutely delicious

- He’s wearing a crisp white collard shirt and a sweater over it, with a pair of khaki trousers

- Very dark academia

- “Sorry have you been waiting long?”

- You shake your head

- “No only a few minutes, have you thought about what you might want to get him?” You ask and he flashes a little and shakes his head

- “The best I could think of was a gadget of some kind?”

- You nod, you can work with that

- The favor Charlie wanted was pretty simple

- He needed help picking out a Christmas gift for his Dad

- Oddly wholesome in its own way

- You take him to a large department store

- “Maybe this pasta maker?”

- “No, Mum’s already got one”

- He should know, his dad enchanted it to make pasta on its own

- “Than maybe this waffle maker?”

- He shakes his head again, they had one and it did not end well

- You go to several stores throughout the day, but there’s nothing quite right at any of them

- Eventually you both slump down on chairs, untouched mugs of tea in front of you, both of you utterly exhausted

- “This is so much harder than I thought” you mumble, Arthur seems like such an easy to please person

- “I’m sorry” Charlie says, honestly the reason neither of you can pick something is because he can’t be honest with you

- Yeah his Dad loves muggle gadgets, but he loves them because he wants to take them apart, to see how it works

- And then he wants to enchant certain parts to make the contraption even better

- But he can’t tell you all that now can he?

- Not when you’re a muggle

- He sighs leaning back in his chair

- Maybe he shouldn’t have asked you for help, he saw how close you and his Dad were, like you were already family-

- But it’s unfair to you to monopolize all your free time like this-

- “It’s no problem really, this is actually really fun”

- You’re not lying, hanging out with Charlie is really fun.

- Usually spending time with people you’ve only just met exhausts you

- But being with him makes you feel comfortable, the two of you falling into a comfortable rhythm

- Guess he’s kinda like his Dad in that way

- You feel your mouth quirk into a small smile at the thought.

- He kinda looks like his dad too on closer inspection, around the jaw and-

- “Are your ears pierced?” You ask, and Charlie immediately flushes. A hand nervously fluttering to his ear

- “U-um yes, I did it when I was younger-“ he lets out a nervous laugh

- You raise an eyebrow

- “What did some girl break your heart?”

- He sputters at that

- “N-no of course not”

- You feel a wicked grin curling on your face, he’s awfully fun to tease

- “Boyfriend then?”

- He’s burning so bright red that you think steam might actually start coming out of his ears

- “N-no it was nothing like that,” his eyes are looking into his mug, fingers still twiddling with his earlobe.

- “My brother and I got them at the same time with our other friend. It was really their thing, wanting to get the piercing that is, I just joined to be apart of it”

- You can certainly see it, Charlie getting swept up in his friends things.

- “Besides this sort of thing... it doesn’t really suit me” he lets out a nervous laugh and you feel your heart swell

- “I think it would look great on you” The words leave your mouth without even thinking and you feel your face grow hot when they do.

- What are you saying!?!

- You’re embarrassed, but Charlie’s flattered.

- He’s never been the favorite sibling, he’s not as brave as Bill, or as funny as George, Percy’s the smart one, Ron’s the charismatic one, and Ginny’s the athletic one

- He hasn’t got anything to compete with honestly-

- All he can do is try to emulate his siblings, he guesses he’s still trying to figure out who he is

- Which is a little pathetic at his age- at least that’s how he feels

- But hearing you say it would look good on him- well it makes his heart flutter

- Meanwhile you’re completely ignorant to the fact that you’re making his heart race

- Completely caught up in your own embarrassment

- Geez you’re just blurting stuff out like a kid

- A lightbulb goes over your head

- “Hey I think I might have an idea of what your Dad might like!”

- You practically tug him into the the next shop, his face contorted in confusion until you show him what you thought of

- “Oh Merlin, it’s perfect”

- You’re both standing in the toy section of a department store

- Charlie’s watching the bubble machine like it’s the best thing he’s ever saw

- His dad is going to love enchanting it

- While Charlie’s asking the clerk about gift wrapping and other things you wander around the store

- Stopping when you see a rack of candles

- They’re the ‘homesick’ candles, with a scent that’s a place

- And then you see something else glint from the corner of your eye

- “Thank you so much for your help today-“

- You’re both standing in front of king’s cross again, you’re about to go home

- Charlie takes a deep gulp, if he was brave like Bill he might ask you on a date- a real day

- But he’s not

- So he’ll just thank you for your time, and ask for a business card so he can send you a tasteful gift with maybe a card asking to spend time again with you

- But before he can get the words out you thrust something out to him

- It’s a neat folded striped pink and green bag

- He takes it carefully on his hands, leading inside

- “Candles?”

- You nod

- “They’re those homesick candles, they have a scent for places, I got you London and then another one that says English country- it’s amber, honeysuckle and moss, I thought you might like it” you’re blabbering-

- There really wasn’t a need to do anything like this for him

- But well- you know he probably feels so homesick, not to mention his rowdy siblings

- So maybe this will offer him some comfort

- But he’s not looking at the candles he’s looking at something else that’s glinting beside them

- Thick fingers gently pinch the end of the thick paper square

- It’s a pair of earrings

- They’re Dragon Earrings

- “Oh that.” You look at the item with a wide expression “it’s really like a gag gift, I know you work with animals and you’ve got the piercing so-”

- Charlie’s grinning

- “You didn’t have to do all this.”

- “O-oh no, it was no big deal at all, I um- I wanted to.” You give him a shy smile and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach

- He’s never going to be as brave as Bill, or as Smart as Percy, as funny as George or loyal as Ron.

- But he wants to be kind

- As kind as you, if not more

- “No, I couldn’t possibly let you do something like this for me, especially not after all your help today”

- You feel yourself deflate, ah you were overstepping weren’t you?

- It’s just- you’ve heard so much about him and you work so well together,

- You had started to think of him as a friend

- But clearly it was too much -

- “Let me take you out to dinner sometime,” your eyes snap to his face, which is dusted with pink, deep brown eyes staring into your own

- “To repay you for all the kindness you’ve shown me today”

- You feel a smile spread across your face, arching into a goofy grin

- He’s looking at you hopefully, pieces ears burning red. A matching hopeful smile curled onto his face

- “I would love to”

[onbeinganangel]

for @skeptiquewrites who sent me a prompt from this list of kisses for me to work with! the prompt was 'we're with family and can't kiss but let's sneak into your old room for a minute' and she asked for a little bit of Perciver. this got a bit out of hand (who's surprised, not me) and it features discussions of coming out to one's family

not beta read and tbh barely edited, this is just straight out of my brain and into your eyeballs since these prompts are meant to be a warmup to working on The Big WIP, so my apologies in advance for any dumb mistakes

harder than i thought

(percy/oliver, 1.3k)

They’ve been dating for almost a year when Oliver decides he’s coming out to his parents and bringing Percy home to Glasgow for the first time. All for his birthday party, because when it comes to one Oliver Wood, it’s always go big or go home.

It’s weird that it’s when Oliver brings it up that Percy realises he’s never been to Oliver’s childhood home. Percy has met the Woods before, of course. Percy and Oliver had graduated the same year, fought the same war, and been generally inseparable way before their relationship crossed the line over from platonic to romantic.

Percy hasn’t been out to his family long either, so it all feels a little fragile, despite it being the surest thing Percy has ever had in his life. Coming out to his family had been slightly underwhelming, after all his overthinking and the practicing of his speech. He had made a big show of clinking his fork against his glass at Sunday dinner, pushed himself up with his sweaty palms flat over the dinner table and announced, as loud and as proud as his shaky voice allowed it, “I’m gay.” His mum had reacted with a casual “as long as you’re happy, love, do you want more roast potatoes? Oh, and do bring Oliver over next week” and that had been only after Bill coughed something that sounded suspiciously like “yeah, we know.” Despite the subdued reaction, Percy had felt lighter for it.

But Oliver has his own plan to air things out with his parents, and Percy will do the same as always until Oliver is ready: pretend they are just friends.

It’s not as easy as it seems. They do it plenty in public, whenever Percy goes to Oliver’s matches or they’re out with friends. But it’s different at home. It’s different because they’re too casual, both at theirs and at the Burrow now.

They wake up tangled up in one other, like one creature with too many limbs. Oliver gets out of bed first and goes for a run and Percy is up and ready to leave for work by the time Oliver is back. It’s way more than the freedom of going on dates in the Muggle world. It’s the way they brush hands softly even while doing the most mundane of things, the way Oliver puts his feet on Percy’s lap when they watch tv together, the way Percy wraps his arms around Oliver’s waist and places his chin on Oliver’s shoulder when he’s cooking or standing in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea. It’s the temple kisses, and the forehead kisses, and the knuckle kisses, the neck kisses, the kisses right on top of Oliver’s gorgeous hair that always smells fresh and minty. Percy’s fear is that he’s too used to all of that. And he’d have to survive Oliver’s birthday party and pretend they’re just friends for as long as it takes.

He takes a steadying breath and fusses with the collar of his shirt for the 900th time. It’s fair that he’s trying so hard. Meeting the parents, even if you’ve met them before, is a big deal.

“You ready?” Oliver’s voice comes from the other room.

His worry must be obvious in his face when he steps into the front room because Oliver’s mouth curls into a small frown and he says, “You don’t have to come, you know? I’ll say you’re a wee bit under the weather.”

“Merlin, no! I don’t want to miss your birthday party,” Percy argues. He really doesn’t.

Oliver crowds in on him, lips brushing Percy’s. “We can celebrate properly when we come back home,” he says, voice low, lips parting and puffing hot air against Percy’s.

“Will you behave, please? We just have to survive a few hours without touching. Stop making it harder than it is.”

“Oh, I could make it harder,” Oliver says.

“Bloody hell, you’re a hazard,” Percy says and pushes him away playfully. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Aye, let’s go.”

*

It’s nice. Nice, in the sense that Mrs. Wood hugs him as if he’s her own and asks about his parents and siblings. And nice in the sense that he can point at ridiculous photos on the walls (most of them featuring Oliver on a broom or posing with one, some featuring a rosy cheeked chubby baby) and say stuff like “Circe, is that what you looked like?” just to receive a deadly stare from Oliver.

It’s torture, though. It’s torture because more than once he finds himself reaching for Oliver’s hand or about to call him “love” before he reins it back in. It’s torture to make small talk with Oliver’s dad because Percy is saying “Yes, sir, I’m the Deputy Department Head now” and making jokes about if they ever have issues with their Floo, he’s the man to get in touch with but what he’s really thinking is “will you hate me when he tells you?”

Dinner is gorgeous and followed by a giant chocolate cake with pieces of fudge on top. Percy is fidgety the whole way through, even after a healthy dram of whisky. The quiet gets to him — a side effect of growing up in the loudest household in Britain, probably. But it’s weird, when it’s just the two of them, Oliver’s parents and his gran, and it’s weird because there’s not much to distract Percy and he just wants to hold Oliver’s hand and squeeze, and not entirely selflessly. They don’t touch but Oliver keeps looking at him, those gorgeous big brown eyes melting through every single one of Percy’s defenses and making him want to touch him even more.

He ends up in Oliver’s room and he’s not even sure how. They’d moved to the living room after lunch, with a Quidditch match on on the Wireless that Percy tried to pay attention to. The quiet had started seeping into Percy’s bones like when you walk into too-cold water at the beach.

Oliver pushes him into the small room at the top of the stairs, follows him inside and closes the door. The room is decorated in shades of blue — the walls, the duvet, the cushions on the bed, the shaggy rug — and covered in Quidditch paraphernalia — posters on the walls, more Little League trophies on the desk than he can count, more photographs of Oliver and his broom.

It’s so Oliver that Percy wants to drown in it. In all the blue of it, all the cosiness and that smell — that smell that has never left, despite Oliver not having lived at home for years. Spicy and minty and homey.

Oliver walks past him, leaving Percy at the door, still observing, committing every detail to memory and walks over to the desk, cocking a hip against it.

When Percy looks at him directly again, he’s smiling.

It feels a little like they’re about to kiss for the first time ever, excepted when they had, months ago, had been tentative and shy and had none of the fire this has. Percy crosses the room and lets himself be pulled against Oliver’s warmth. They just kiss for a while, a steady rhythm that tells Percy he’s not the only one struggling with the pretense.

“Not touching you is harder than I thought,” Oliver says against his spit-shiny lips.

Percy smiles and he sees the moment Oliver’s eyes light up and he realises what Percy is about to say, just before he says it. “Oh, Oli, I could make it harder.”

“You’re a bastard, you know?” Oliver says, but laughs.

Silence stretches comfortable, just slightly tinged with a hint of fear.

“You okay?” Percy asks, after a while, as Oliver tucks his head under Percy’s chin, his breath hot and tickly against the skin on his neck.

“Yeah. They’re not going to have a problem. They’re sound,” he says, and Percy squeezes his hand tight, watching the way Oliver’s eyes fill with apprehension. “It’s just hard, saying it, you know?”

“I know. I’ll be here,” Percy says, for lack of a better answer.

“I know.”

[broimjustagirl]

My Rant About Siege and Storm (Spoilers)

(Re-posts/re-blogs are allowed)

*please don't hurt me, I promise I am actually a decent and kind person in real life*

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED READING 'SIEGE AND STORM'. CONTROVERSIAL OPINIONS INCLUDED, NOT INTENDED TO HURT ANYONE, DO NOT HATE IF YOU DO NOT AGREE WITH ME. THESE ARE JUST PERSONAL OPINIONS. (Book 2 of the Shadow and Bone Trilogy) If you do, do not blame me for spoiling the book. If you have only watched the TV show, you might want to skip this as well, anyways, *cough*, let me begin!

FIRST OF ALL; the beginning from around the start to page 300-ish was literally so boring. Except for Nikolai of course, Nikolai is king. Also, I am not anti-Malina, but come on, some of the scenes made me cringe so hard. You got to admit, some of the Malina scenes were cringy and unoriginal.

Also, why was Mal so insecure about his relationship with Alina? Why doesn't he trust Alina enough to know that she would never cheat on him with Nikolai? (though if I were her, I would 100% choose Nikolai, not gonna lie) Mal obviously feels threatened by Nikolai (why wouldn't he? Not to hate on him) even though Mal and Nikolai's alter persona Sturmhond were literally friends. Mal obviously doesn't trust Alina, which to me is a red flag.

ANOTHER RED FLAG (in my opinion, don't hate) was the fact that he started drinking SO BADLY and STARTED SEEING ZOYA, though I have to admit that he and Alina weren't really a thing at that point, but still.

Alina has also really started to annoy me, starting at the point when she threatened Zoya. Yes, Zoya was rude to her, but why don't you believe Zoya when she said that she lost LITERAL FAMILY because of the Darkling. Why did Alina question her? She could see that Zoya was about to cry, but still decided to throw her off. I sided with Mal when he said that Alina was threatening Zoya and SHE LIKED IT. THE FRICK ALINA?

Alina is powerful, and a great main character, but she's starting to be arrogant. Seriously. (I know I was pretty arrogant as a kid, hell, I thought I was smart when I was 9 because I knew what the word 'vital' meant) But it was obvious that Zoya was super hurt, and though Alina did regret some things she said, why didn't she feel a lot empathy for her, even if Zoya was rude to me, I wouldn't continue to threaten her to leave the only home she has left. Losing family is super painful, and though I'm rude sometimes, I would never be rude someone who had just lost an aunt and a niece in a betrayal of someone she trusted (AKA the toxic Darkling, I LIKED YOU, BUT YOU CROSSED THE LINE DUDE)

Anyway, after those 300 boring pages of the Darkling teleporting like a superhero and being a legit stalker (Except for Nikolai, I love you Nikolai) THE DARKLING FREAKING ATTACKS THE LITTLE PALACE (Yes, I read spoilers about this. Yes, I was still surprised. Yes, I feel the same as when I read the Hunger Games for the first time, it's that painful)

BUT THE THING THAT ANNOYED ME THE MOST WAS WHEN ALINA WAS ALL LIKE:

'oooh Mal, i love you so much, i've always loved, *kiss here*, *kiss your jawline like a weirdo*, i kiss this, i kiss that. i've loved you forever'

AND THEN SHE'S LIKE:

'ooh darkling, let me kiss you and play with your hair, yasssssss. you're my king aleksander.' (WAIT A MINUTE, I'M CONTINUING TO READ THAT PAGE BECAUSE I PUT IT DOWN AFTER SHE KISSED THE DARKLING TO CALM MYSELF, AND WHAT THE FRICK IS HAPPENING. WHY IS THIS BOOK SO CONFUSING)

BUT DAVID HELPING GENYA WAS SO FREAKING SWEET. GENYA IS A LITERAL QUEEN.

I guess I have a problem with literally hating every single main character (Except Percy Jackson, perhaps I'm biased because PJO was the first fandom I was ever part of) like Katniss (She's a little negative and pessimistic no offense) and many protagonists from lesser-known novels. BUT ALINA, YOU GET ON MY NERVES. No offense once again. I can't name all the times she annoyed me, but trust me, there are lots.

AND YES, I STARTED GASPING WHEN NIKOLAI AND ZOYA HAD THEIR FIRST INTERACTION. YES, I KNOW ABOUT ZOYALAI EVEN THOUGH I HAVEN'T EVEN READ RULE OF WOLVES YET. I haven't even read up to the part where Zoyalai is canon, but I've read enough of Nikolai's Grishaverse Fandom Page to know that Zoyalai is literally perfect. Come one, sort of a reckless little idiot and a stern-minded ambitious queen, PERFECT MATCH. OH MY GODS, I'M FANGIRLING OVER A THING I HAVEN'T EVEN READ THAT MUCH OF.

I think Zoya was saying something and Nikolai said something to her during a war meeting and IT WAS SO EXCITING FOR ME EVEN THOUGH THAT WAS THE ONLY INTERACTION THEY HAVE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

But whenever the Grishaverse fandom mentions how toxic the Darkling is (I've just realized after reading Siege and Storm and watching the SAB TV show) they're just like:

'Mal is boring and has no personality'. GURL, THAT'S TRUE AT SOME POINTS, MAL INFURIATES ME MOST OF THE TIME, I did ship Darklina at some point, but come on, it's still pretty toxic, but it was good for a short-term relationship, but long-term....eh, nope. I've come to the point where I have to accept the fact that everyone has different opinions, so if you ship Darklina, ship it. But also realize that the Darkling was super toxic, especially when he killed the innocent people of Novokribirsk. Otherwise, I'll read some Darklina wattpad fan-fics on Wattpad. It's nice to be neutral.

Anyways, I've suddenly realized that people are getting bored of my rant because this is so freaking long, thank you for baring with me. I await the toxic and hate comments for my controversial opinions

Countess of Cats

Inferni - OUT!