circle weaving

anonymous asked:

Kaz and inej beauty and the beast au, is that a thing? If not you should consider writing it haha

*rubs hands together* 

Disclaimer: no animal transformations written below

  • Kaz is an arrogant lord (because he’d rather drop dead than be a prince) who scams and manipulates the other lords for his own benefit and to expand his influence
  • until one night a wizened old woman comes to his manor and offers him a single geranium for his hospitality for one night 
  • Kaz instantly rejects the offer and belittles the woman, but his words suddenly die in his throat when the woman reveals her true self: Zoya, the ethereal and sublime sorceress who’s intent on teaching Kaz a lesson 
  • she dooms Kaz and the rest of his subjects - the Dregs - to live a cursed life until the person to instill love in Kaz’s heart arrives
  • meanwhile, in a nearby provincial town, Inej Ghafa just wants to read and be in peace (because she doesn’t want adventure, she’s perfectly content to be with her family lbr) 
  • especially with her wise and innovative acrobat father who she adores with all her heart
  • however, her little town thinks she’s strange and almost a ghost, and whisper she’s possessed by a vengeful spirit lying in wait to ensnare somebody, because they can never hear her - not her steps, not her until she speaks 
  • although the townspeople all grudgingly agree that she’s the most beautiful girl for miles 
  • Pekka, a well-known huntsman, thinks so and is set on making Inej his wife 
  • Inej when Pekka calls her beautiful: “That’s a lazy way to describe me.”
  • and when her father’s horse comes running back to her one morning without her father, Inej sets out to find him the dark depths of the forest
  • she comes across this wild, unkept estate that looms over her and finds her father trapped in a dungeon there 
  • and then she comes across a young man that walks stiffly with a cane and has a hat pulled over his eyes, who says that he’ll let her father go if she’ll take his place
  • Inej takes heart that her father is safe from harm and soon meets the other enchanted individuals in the manor 
  • Matthias as the grumpy Featherduster 
  • Nina as Mrs. Potts!!!
  • Kuwei as Chip
  • while Kaz casually freaks out over how to approach this new girl that might break his spell 
  • when Inej finds the dying, glowing geranium inside a bell jar in the west wing, Kaz panics and yells at her to get out 
  • after she flees and Kaz saves her from the wolves surrounding the forest, Inej tends to Kaz’s wounds and gets to really look at him for the first time 
  • his legs are mangled and torn, and a black substance is creeping under their skin up to his waist
  • and when Inej turns him over, she sees his eyes fully for the very first time, and they’re made out of glass, and a scrape on his arm reveals that part of him is cogs and springs 
  • “The one who cursed me poisoned my legs and said that I wasn’t fit to walk amongst any of the good men in Ketterdam. Then she said that wasn’t a good enough punishment, and so she made me half machine, because she said I didn’t belong with humans with such a cold heart.”
  • Inej oils his joints and mixes poultices to help Kaz heal and for the next few weeks, he notices how she exudes kindness and acceptance and everything that he doesn’t deserve
  • while Inej observes that Kaz, although he may feign indifference and aloofness, he’s actually not an evil presence and shows her nothing but truth instead of gilded lies (a privilege compared to what she got in town) 
  • Inej! in that iconic!! dress!!!!
  • Inej realizes - from the mirror Kaz gives her - that her father is in danger because the townspeople don’t believe his claims of his daughter being locked up by a monster
  • so Kaz lets her go, knowing the geranium’s petals will fall off before she returns
  • and Inej very faintly kisses him on the cheek before she leaves so he has to bite his lip to keep from screaming
  • Inej’s plan to drive away the crowd backfires when she shows them Kaz in the enchanted mirror and speaks of him with a fond and warm tone that makes Pekka Rollins’ eyes narrow and his fingers clench into fists 
  • Pekka grabs the mirror and gets the whole crowd in an uproar about the demon boy that’ll slip through the town and steal away babies, to how he’ll scrape their coffers bare, to how he’ll kidnap more girls like Inej to break his spell 
  • Inej and her father are trapped in the cellar of their home, but Kuwei, who slipped into Inej’s dress pocket when she wasn’t looking, gets them out 
  • Cue the townspeople fighting against the enchanted Dregs in Kaz’s manor
  • Pekka, armed with a musket, finds Kaz in the west wing, and Kaz doesn’t mope; he’s seen Inej and her father on horseback far off in his window, coming towards the manor, and he’ll be damned if he lets her see him die so easily 
  • the mirror from Pekka’s belt falls to the floor and shatters in their struggle
  • the two of them circle and weave around each other in a deadly dance, and both of them sustain serious injuries 
  • Inej runs up to the west wing to see Kaz hanging off the balcony, his legs now completely black and useless so he can’t stand up 
  • she sees a flash of lightning illuminating Pekka’s musket end raised high in the air, intent on smashing Kaz’s fingers to pieces so he’ll fall 
  • and she doesn’t think she moves 
  • she scoops up a jagged mirror shard from the ground and stabs Pekka hard in the stomach multiple times until he gasps and falls off the balcony
  • Inej hauls Kaz up and looks in horror at his cogs whirring slower and slower, his legs now twisted to odd angles and unable to move, how his glass eyes blink more slowly when he turns to look at her 
  • “You came back.” 
  • “I’d have come for you no matter what. I’d have crawled to you even if I couldn’t walk.” 
  • Kaz smiles faintly at this, closes his eyes, and the cogs in his body whir to a stop 
  • and Inej’s throat constricts, ready to let out a scream of anguish
  • but before the first shriek escapes her lips, she sees a beautiful black-haired woman appear out of nowhere and stoop low to Kaz’s pale face 
  • “Dramatic to the end.” she mutters, lowering a hand over Kaz’s forehead. “Cutting it a little close, don’t you think, Brekker?” 
  • Kaz opens his eyes and smirks weakly at the sorceress. “I’m always a lover of drama, all powerful Zoya. And I don’t see you trying to snatch my life away when you’ve just made me live again.” 
  • “You found love, but you can never learn manners, can you, boy?” 
  • “Trust me,” Inej says with a laugh, getting over her shock and helping Kaz stand by letting him lean on her. “That would take a miracle to happen.”
  • Kaz looks up at Inej and smiles crookedly. “You know, magic doesn’t solve everything.”

deetledeet  asked:

Dude I'm 90% sure some matrix glitch happened to me today. I don't know how to explain it I was at my little sis soccer game and laid back on my blanket to look at the sky. I saw about 20 birds way up high that looked like seagulls, but we live on the Arizona Utah border so they couldn't have been. I pointed up and said to my husband "do you see those birds?" And I looked at his face, but when I glanced back up they were gone. If it'd been 3 I'd assume they flew a different direction. But 20??

(cont.)  I don’t know what to think of it. They were flying really really high in circles weaving around eachother. It was almost like the light was reflecting off them but I figured it was their white bellies. I scanned the sky all over for them after literally looking at my husbands face for 1.5 seconds. My finger was still pointing up and they weren’t there anymore.

-that’s actually really freaky sounding.

Originally posted by dbareactions

Let's just take a moment to appreciate Lysaedion in Eos

“He dared another step closer, not caring who watched on the deck or in the rigging or in the armada around them. Color bloomed high on those beautiful cheekbones, and it was an effort not to stroke a finger across them, then his mouth. To taste her skin. But he’d take his time. Enjoy every moment, as he had told her to do. Because this would be his last hunt. He had no intention of wasting each glorious moment in one go. Of wasting any of the moments that fate had granted him, and all he wanted to show her. Every stream and forest and sea in Terrasen. To see Lysandra laugh her way through the autumnal circle dances; to weave ribbons around the maypoles in the spring; and listen, wide-eyed, to ancient tales of war and ghosts before the roaring winter fires in the mountain halls. All of it. He’d show her all of it. And walk onto those battlefields again and again to ensure he could.” 

 “Open your gods-damned eyes,” Aedion snarled. She snarled back but cracked open an eye. “You made it this far. Don’t die on the rutting beach.” The eye narrowed—with a hint of female temper. He had to get the woman back. Let her take control. Or else the beast would never allow them near enough to help. “You can thank me when your sorry ass is healed.” Again, that eye watched him warily, temper flickering. But an animal remained. Aedion drawled, even as his relief began to crumble his mask of arrogant calmness, “The useless sentries in the watchtower are now all half in love with you,” he lied. “One said he wanted to marry you.“ A low snarl. He yielded a foot but held eye contact with her as he grinned. “But you know what I told them? I said that they didn’t stand a chance in hell.” Aedion lowered his voice, holding her pained, exhausted stare. “Because I am going to marry you,” he promised her. “One day. I am going to marry you. I’ll be generous and let you pick when, even if it’s ten years from now. Or twenty. But one day, you are going to be my wife.”Those eyes narrowed—in what he could only call female outrage and exasperation.He shrugged. “Princess Lysandra Ashryver sounds nice, doesn’t it?” And then the dragon huffed. In amusement. Exhaustion, but … amusement.” 

 I love them

I really don’t think people understand how much I loVE Oikawa’s dynamic like this man is MANIPULATIVE in this most unnerving way like its something that is borderline sadistic but wholly good natured because when he does it it’s often to bring out the best in people ya know… To bring them out of their slump but like DUDE

Like his whole body language and the way he flips the switch between intimidating and upfront to this regular teenage boy is ALARMING. HE EVEN MANAGES TO MANIPULATE AND ADAPT TO COLLEGE VARSITY PLAYERS. COLLEGE. ADULTS.

And it’s not just figuring out their spiking styles and who the set to its also about making them LIKE you. Making them TRUST you. And it’s interesting to see that with Oikawa because you honestly cannot tell if he is genuine or not. Like of course it’s genuine but it’s always like this voice in the back of your mind like “what’s the deal with this guy”

Like the ENTIRETY of Aoba Johsai team tRUSTS him. And I can’t help but wonder how he went about that. Even with Iwa like… can you just imagine as his manipulation skills sharpened he just starts weaving circles around him. AND NOT IN A BAD WAY but man is this SADISTIC. BUT ITS SO INTERESTING. How easily he can pick up on people’s emotions. The only ones who can even be considered apt enough to rival him in this is Kenma and Akaashi. Like the first time he matched Neko it was literally like a shock because he couldn’t READ him. It was arguably the most confusing match on both sides because their most intellectually apt players where stuck at a standstill. Neko eventually won because one area Kenma has Oikawa beat is that he can bottle his frustration like a pro. Oikawa can too but his threshold is much thinner than Kenma’s.

And he was even more in disarray when they Fukorodani like Akaashi was playing off Bokuto better than Oikawa played off Iwa. It was thrilling. But the only reason Aoba won was because Bokuto’s emotions truly got the best of him and he just became plethora of emotions that Akaashi could not pick up all at once. Of course this was 2nd year, so by their 3rd year they had gotten better at finding ways to harness it all.

But yea I just find it so interesting and it’s weird how people don’t talk about this often. OIKWAW IS MANIPULATIVE and it’s FASCINATING

Evenings (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by dailyfantasticbeastsgifs

For the wonderful @bringmetomnow who requested: Newt is watching reader caring for his animals (them being best friends) and he is so full of love that he just blurts out he loves her? Lots of fluff and touchy-kissy stuff.

Words: ~1200

Rating: You may overdose on fluff…sorry not sorry. <3

Hope you enjoy!

Evenings were Newt’s absolute favorite.

It became tradition that the two of you would savor each other’s company over a candlelit dinner before setting to work feeding and caring for the creatures in the case, the night ending with you both usually falling asleep on the cot in the small shack while working on writing and illustrating Newt’s magical beasts manual. Though you would always scold him with well-intentions to eat a proper meal before he got lost performing the neverending tasks in the case, Newt knew you were just as eager to see the creatures and care for them as needed.   

Currently occupied with the task of constructing a new Occamy nest to accommodate for some new hatchlings that were on the way, Newt couldn’t help but ponder if he would ever gather the courage to tell you his true feelings for you one of these nights. He bit his bottom lip in concentration as he wrapped the tubular vegetation into tightly weaved circles, layer after layer.

He paused abruptly at the sound of your melodious voice that drifted through the doorway, the sound almost hypnotic, drawing Newt out of the humble shack to find you tending to the Bowtruckles that riddled the small tree, peeping anxiously.

“I’m here, it’s alright,” you hushed lovingly, successfully calming and quieting the chirping beasts as they acknowledged your presence. “Now let me see that limping leg of yours,” you cooed, reaching out a hand with your palm faced down, coaxing a little green creature to scurry across your fingers and perch on your knuckles, it’s left twig-leg dragging along. You gave a sympathetic pout, already reaching for the bandages and miniature splint you had prepared. “Oh you poor thing, hold still…”

His nest-building task long forgotten, Newt rested his chin in his hand as he leaned an elbow against the Eurumpent’s wooden platform, observing you from a comfortable distance.

The magizoologist listened in satisfaction as Graphorns snorted while gorging themselves on the recently thrown meal in the sandy enclosure, the Nundu giving a mighty growl from its rocky perch as the Mooncalves emerged from their burrows to chirp and blink their large blue eyes at the ascending moon, such harmony between every creature that made pride swell in Newt’s chest. The creatures that resided here were his best friends, but with your involvement, they all had become family, your influence rejuvenating the warmth and spirits in the case of creatures.

He watched as you ever-so-gently wrapped the carefully crafted splint around the small Bowtruckle’s leg, tongue poking out in concentration as you secured the bandages to keep the injured limb in place, but allow for movement at the joint. Newt saw how precise and cautiously aware you were of the precious life in your hands, your appreciation and love for the creatures apparent in your daily actions of maternal maintenance and caregiving.

Newt couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as you gushed over the gleefully squeaking Bowtruckle, giving small praises. “There we go, good as new,” You commented encouragingly, gingerly setting the Bowtruckle down onto a low branch, You giggled at a Billywig that buzzed by, twittering merrily as it circled your head a few times, sending your H/C locks flowing in a brisk breeze before whizzing away toward the Erumpent enclosure. It lead your gaze to your favorite wizard who strode toward you, looking to you in admiration.

A sense of adoration washed over Newt as he observed the way you interacted with his creatures, all of whom he now called “our” creatures since you had stumbled into his life. Your E/C eyes sparkled in the bright sun rays that beamed down and coated you in a heavenly glow, as if to purposely flaunt you as the main exhibit.

You, his favorite creature of them all. And you were his.

Newt was fully aware he was smitten. Completely, unashamedly, uncontrollably in love to where he devoted every smile, every breath, every heartbeat to you and you only.  

“I think the Bowtruckles really like me now,” you whispered secretively with a smile as you looked up to Newt with an endearing expression of excitement. “And I finally got the Niffler to give me back my earrings, though I still can’t find my—”

Though he mentally reprimanded himself for it, Newt had stopped fully listening to your ramblings to admire the look of enchantment you possessed in the presence of the creatures as well as himself, gazing up at him with captivating E/C eyes that reflected such compassion and joviality.

He figured you must have noticed the dreamy glaze over his herbal eyes as you paused in your small speech, expression turning to one of humor, though your brow furrowed in slight concern. “Newt, everything okay?”

Oh, the way you looked to him with so much fondness and devotion. Newt’s floodgates opened, the words spilling from his mouth, wholehearted and sweet like dripping honey, “Merlin’s beard, I love you…” His lean arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up into a spin that made you squeal in surprise and giggle in delight.

As soon as Newt set you down his hands flew up to delicately caress your face. He tenderly kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, trailing up your jaw to the shell of your ear, effectively showering you in affection that made your chest bubble in pleasure.

“You are…so…perfect,” he murmured sincerely between kisses, your cheeks flushing in response to such bold flattery. You faintly pondered what brought on such spontaneous demonstration of passion from the otherwise timid wizard, though you certainly weren’t about to complain. You couldn’t hold back the giggles that erupted from the sensation of Newt’s cinnamon-dusted amber curls sweeping against your skin as his freckled nose brushed against yours lovingly.

His eyes reflected a much deeper, passionate green, like that of churning ocean waves in a thunderstorm. “What ever did I do to deserve such a goddess?” He purred fondly, more to himself than anything else as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear and continued to study your features as though you were fine art.

You shook your head with a chuckle at his breathless, revering words. Giving it careful thought, you answered truthfully, “You exist, and that’s more than enough for me.”

Newt gave a slow exhale of awe as he attempted to form some sort of response, finding himself at loss for words. A grin cracked across his freckled face as he chuckled elatedly, seafoam eyes shimmering with mirth as he engulfed you into a warm embrace, nestling his head into the crook of your neck.

A smile of satisfaction pulled at your lips as you inhaled Newt’s comforting scent of fresh soil and rainwater, with a touch of vanilla. You rubbed soothing circles along his back, feeling his arms hug you tighter as you pressed your lips to his exposed neck with soft murmurs of your own reciprocations interweaved with sweet nothings.

You felt Newt’s unmistakable smirk of contentment against the curvature of your neck as he sighed fondly, freckled fingers tracing down your spine as his eyes fluttered shut blissfully. The night peacefully drifted on, the two of you snugly relaxed in one another’s embrace as polar-white stars shimmered from above, bathing the contents of the case in divinely pale light.

Evenings in your arms became Newt’s absolute favorite.

I hope you enjoyed!

A big thanks to those who like/reblog and leave such encouraging comments, they make my day! Thank you so much! 

Tags: @maybe-maj

The Circle of Life

Remember when the Red Skull’s daughter rescued Frodo?

Who’s best friend was was Magneto…

Who was enemies with Captain Picard…

And when he was younger was turned into stone by the White Witch and revived by Qui Gon Jin…

Who later met Bolivar Trask…

Who Katniss tried to kill…

Who dated Rocket Racoon…

Who was in the Guardians of the Galaxy with Uhura…


Who married the Incredible Hulk…

Whose girlfriend is Arwen…

Whose dad is Agent Smith…

Ta Da!


Originally posted by hugtae

(Maybe late night studying at the library isn’t so bad anymore.)

slightly inspired by the prompt: “since there’s only one can of energy drink left in the store, which we both need to survive the disgustingly boring lecture we just discovered we both have, how about we share it”

word count: 3,050
note: hi, this is kristen’s first attempt at a scenario aka please excuse this mess. I just love the idea of college!jungkook and I finished this at 3:31am and I’m extremely saddened that this is not real life. shoutout to heungtanbts for unknowingly contributing to this by writing lovely scenarios, which gave me the final push of motivation & confidence to write/post my own!! (check her out)

Keep reading

Lazy Mornings - Gavin x Reader

For the lovely anon that requested an RT member x Reader smut and fluff!! 

Be warned there is smut under the cut ;) 

You feel two arms slide around you, pulling you back against a bare, warm chest. Smiling as he buries his nose into your neck, running small circles into your hipbone, weaving his hand underneath the t-shirt of his you’d stolen to push against your bare skin. He presses small, wet kisses to your neck, biting down at the junction of your neck and shoulder with a fervour that makes your shiver delightedly.

“Gavin…” you manage to moan out as he grinds forward into you, pressing his morning arousal into your backside as he grins against your neck. You turn over quickly, throwing one leg over his waist as you bend down to slowly press your lips to his. He groans into your mouth, slowly moving his mouth over yours as his hands come up to stroke your thighs.

Keep reading


Imagine with me, if you will.

Imagine with that deep faculty that built worlds for you as a child.

That, if you try, even now, can make trees speak and rivers laugh.

Back and back. Beyond the ages of Iron and Bronze and Stone.

Into the Golden Age, and this is not the age of metal-glint.

Oh, no.

This is the age of honeycomb and honeydew, of mead-blood and winedark sea. Of nectar and ambrosia and the golden apples of Idunn and the Hesperides.

Drink with me, all flushed and rolling, all whispering, all gorged on godflesh and wreathed in smoke. Swallow it down as it boils and bubbles in the belly and bowels. 

Falling back and back, dizzy and something lifting in your chest, something peeling back, the muscles of your face shifting, baring your teeth in a smile so very eagerly shared by all the others in the room.

Perhaps they have hair like snakes, faces all ash-white and blood-daubed; ochre-bodied, painting fingers that writhe and twist in strange and potent shapes that leave electric blue-traces across your vision.

Did you think you were the only one? The only child of this ancient knotted line; your breath like all the winds flasked in skin, all tied together with thread? 

And now you are undone, the storm unleashed:

And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.  -  Kubla Khan, Coleridge

Imagine then. Imagine, yes.

Imagine the salt on the wind, the iron in the blood. The crackle of flame.

He waits beside the fire, there in the bloodlight of womb, there in the centre of the very heart of big bellied verdant Mother.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

The antlered shadow there, scalp festooned with the roots of the bone-tree, stretching up and down into darkness, wreathed in laurel and vines. There, all enmeshed, lie serpents and eagles, black-eyed and unblinking in their wisdom.

He throws the bones, carves the lots; weaves a cat’s-cradle out of his own viscera. She nourishes him there. in the darkness. Enfolds him as he tends the flame that he brought from the stars with a word that is not a word..

Such a handsome beast is he. Such a monstrous uncreated coming-together and breaking apart of vision and form. Did you think yourself the only one, when he still remains buried here in dark earth?

Well, did you?

The shining colours of his guts; with one deft pull he snares you; ten thousand masks cast out by his shadow; plays you like a lute, like a liar strumming a lyre.

Down and down. There lies his spear, his club, his bow, his skull-breaker, his arrow of gold.

Down and down, in fire and flux, in ice and pestilence. There he sits, in the age of honey and amber. Even the rocks groan and bleed at the pulsing of his drum, as he bores his way down through the top of your head, as he kisses, wakens the snake and she rises to meet him

The secret centre. He drinks from the freezing fount and transmutes it to intoxicating gold. 

Poisoner and poisoned.

Pharmakon. Body and blood. He gives himself to us, so to be devoured, to ignite the fire in our breast and bellies.

A mocking smile, echoed from the other end of time:

Do this, in remembrance of  me.

We, the hunted, lay ourselves prostrate, as his curved bone knife cuts us free, hands roughly kindling organs, filling them with light and darkness. With solemn mockery, he cleaves the stone of our heart in two; we are to bleed forever, to stream back across the tracks, to this, the place beyond beginning and end.  

Bones disarticulated and dismembered, we are naught but hide and flesh to be stitched together with thorn, scratched and cut down to the bones, our marrows stuffed with secrets.

Burns us black, so he does, until we all go up in smoke; draws us in, holds us there, and then expels us as changed breath and a gesture, so we rise and stream forth from that place; almost to see her emerge from the darkness, this lady of feline grace and hawkish beauty, this leader through the labyrinth.

We do not imagine her, flanked by kings of beasts, heavy pawed and golden. Do not see her in feathered cloak and covered in gleaming jewels. Do not see her place her hand upon his shoulder, and watch him strengthen, watch the weariness we never saw was there, the loss of what he gave for us, be banished once more. We do not see her give him the cup, the mark of her eternal favour.

For this is just postulate. Just a might be. 

Isn’t it?

Stain the walls with your indifference
I’ll tread the path of silence
Stepping soundlessly through my raging
You buried deep beneath.

I’m walking circles
Weaving the lies you left in blossoming flowers
Cultivating a world where
The breeze whistles your voice and
The birds are singing your lost sentiments.

By the softly streaming riverbed
I’ll carve your name into the stones -
Find me curled within
The morning dawn of your arrival.


| weave the circle | for modern witches; those who are kissed by the devil & kiss right back

“I myself have seen this woman draw the stars from the sky; she diverts the course of a fast-flowing river with her incantations; her voice makes the earth gape, it lures the spirits from the tombs, send the bones tumbling from the dying pyre. At her behest, the sad clouds scatter; at her behest, snow falls from a summer’s sky.” 

I’m Right Here

So this is a mortal kind of AU

“I’m right here! I’m right here! I’M RIGHT HERE!” Annabeth cried out in anguish. Tears hurdled themselves in heavy streams down her cheeks. She went in to swipe everything off his stupid, solid desk, but her hands passed right through as she knew they would. It infuriated her even more, made the cries rush out faster. Her breaths were labored, her head was pounding. She slid down the blue colored wall, pulling at her hair like a mad woman.

“I’m right here, Percy.” She bubbled out through the sobs. Her head felt like a mess, every little thought and emotion was jumbled together.

She didn’t know why this was happening to her. She shouldn’t have died. She shouldn’t be here in Percy’s room as a… as a ghost. At least that’s what she thought she was. All Annabeth remembered was driving. Driving to Percy’s and then… and then there was a crash. She’d first appeared like this, like a ghost just outside of her mangled body that laid more or less in the front seat of her car. There were police cars and ambulances. A man shaking his head saying something about how young she was…

She didn’t control where she went or when she went in this form. She’d just pop into places without her consent and always it was to see some kind of aftermath of her death on her loved ones. It was like the fates decided to play some extraordinarily cruel joke on her.

She was now in Percy’s room. The hardest place she’d been yet.

Percy sat in the black, spinning chair that normally occupied Annabeth’s body, not his. She’d spin as he talked or listened to music or attempted to do homework. She had laughed in that chair a thousand times, smiled a million times in that chair, but never did she tell him I love you. Never did she realize those smiles and laughs were an ‘I love you’ in their own, but neither did Percy. She realized that now, how much her heart ached and yearned to tell Percy she loved him. And now it was too late.

Percy sat in that chair, his head in his hands. She could hear his sobs, each new wail a knife to her heart. It physically pained her to hear them. She was right here. Why couldn’t he just see that? Why? Why? WHY?! She was just two feet away. She was right beside him, like she had been all his life.

His cheeks were rosy. His body rose and fell. His face was stained as her own.

“Please, Percy. Please, I’m right here.” She managed to choke out in between coughs that erupted from the consistent cries.

“Please.” She begged, so desperate, so absolutely hopeless.

Annabeth stood from her position on the floor and hugged Percy from behind.

“Please, Percy. I’m right here.” She whispered into his hair, no longer even feeling. All feelings had been drained out of her by a starving black hole. Despair circled and weaved its way around her heart, in and out. She was encompassed by a shroud of darkness.

Still his body shook.

“A-Annabeth. I loved you. I-I l-l-loved you so much. And I never told you.” Percy was barely capable to sputter that out.

“I loved you too, Percy. Percy, please I’m right here and I love you. I love you with a burning fire in my heart. And it’s so fierce. Percy, please. Please. Just, please.” Her throat felt hoarse. More tears fell, dripping softly like snowflakes onto Percy’s gray sweatshirt. Annabeth loved that sweatshirt. It was the same one he had lent her during October at the football game. When things started to be more than friendship between the pair.

A light, tender knock came from Percy’s door.

“Sweetie, it’s mom.” Sally’s watery voice came from the other side. It was clear that she was holding her own cries from falling from her mouth.

Percy gasped and gasped, trying to even his breathing. He wiped his red rimmed eyes with shaking hands and stood up on even shakier legs. His long stride got him to the door in just a few steps.

Sally was there, dwarfed by Percy’s size. Her tattered green pajamas hung limply on her body. Her mouse brown hair was pulled into a messy bun and her body sagged in tiredness.

Not even a moment after opening the door, Percy collapsed into his mother’s arms. Both of them fell to the floor, kneeling on the soft, tan carpet.

Their sobs synchronized and despite Percy’s weight and size, Sally held him up as if he was just a pillow. It looked as if all of Percy’s strength had been sucked out by the same black hole that drained Annabeth of everything, not that that hole would keep her feelings for long. No, they were just starting to rise right back to full intensity.

“M-mom. I was going to tell her. That’s why I called her over. I was going to tell her I loved her. It’s my fault.” Percy pushed himself away from his mom, pure horror crossing his face.

“Oh my god. It’s my fault she’s dead.” He whispered terrified. He looked at his hands as if he wanted to jump out of his own skin in disgust.

Sally was furiously shaking her head. “No! No, baby, it’s not your fault at all. It was a drunk driver that killed her, not you.” She frantically rubbed circles into her sons back in a small attempt to comfort him and rid him of such incorrect and destructive thoughts.

He choked on another sob before saying, “Mom, it is. If I hadn’t asked her to come or If I went to her house she’d still be here. I just want her here, mom. I just want her here. Why can’t she just be here?” Each fiber of his being was breaking down with each broken word. He was just as desperate as Annabeth for each others contact.

“I am here, Percy. Why can’t you see that?” Annabeth wondered allowed. She shook his shoulder, hoping for some sort of reaction. Even just the hint of acknowledging her presence. “Percy. Percy! PERCY!” Her volume raised higher and higher each time she called his name.

“Percy, you want me here and I am here! I’m right here! Look at me. Goddammit, look at me Percy! I’M RIGHT HERE!” Her voice was gone by now, nothing more than aching screeches. She was so frustrated. Percy begged for her and she was here.

“I SAID I’M RIGHT HERE!” She pounded on the wall, no noise escaping. She pounded harder. Nothing happened. She kept on pounding and Percy kept on sobbing. She was right here. Percy, she was right here.

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