Shakespeare

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Two people, both alike in golden blood,

In fair Camp where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break new love,

And monstrous blood makes civil hands unclean.

From the pants of these two adversaries 

A pair of star-crossed lovers attempt to survive;

Whose misadventures piteous overthrows

Doth with their life calm their parents the heck down.

The fearful passage of their death-marked love,

And the continuance of Uncle Rick's rage,

Which, by neither Olympus or Tartarus could remove, 

Is now right in your hands;

The which if you patient eyes read,

The fandom's toil shall strive to mend.

Percabeth OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now