#Apollo: (thinking back to the other two’s over-the-top lines)

[fujii-draws]

thinking abt that one post regarding psmd Grovyle And Dusknoir’s dramatic ass lines to the hero and partner, and Celebi’s just ‘don’t you think I’m adorable :3‘. Like god she really is balancing out these edgelords

[pumpkinbxtch]

MY LAST REQUEST 😭 I feel so bad requesting right away AGAIN but I loved your response so much I want more. I CRAVE more of it PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP MAKE A PT2 DO ANYTHING WITH THE PART 2 SLIGHTLY ANGSTY AND FLUFFY PLSPLS 😭🙏🙏❤️❤️❤️ TYSM AGAIN LIKE YOURE LITERALLY THE BEST ur single handily fueling my obsession rn this will be my last one for a while TRUST unless you say otherwise, I don’t wanna overwhelm you ❤️💔

• ° . ☆ “Free coupons, take one and cry all afternoon ” II

— apollo x mortal!reader

part i

summary: part ii, you need to read it, the link is above. run, go warnings: none a/n: really forgive me, haha. I wanted to do something very nice but, well, you'll read what I did. I don't know, forgive me 😔 I couldn't control myself HAHA Still I hope you enjoy it.

Lester was about to throw up the burger, or well, the two bites he had taken. No misunderstanding, it was good.

But you continued to check that they were well taken care of; Giving him pretty smiles and walking near him with that lavender smell of yours. Shit, he wanted to be close to you.

They were too many of you, so they had to join several tables and, among the place that was about to explode, they stood out.

A very lively table, Apollo assumed.

Percy played with his soda making swirls telepathically, Leo put his hand in and undid it, it was funny until the son of Poseidon realized that the drink was disgustingly tampered with. He didn't take a sip again. The other boys laughed.

The girls were talking and laughing and pushing each other, including Meg.

Nico picked at Percy's fries and sipped on Will's soda. Living his best life, Apollo thought.

He liked the idea of being with them and being able to take care of them (even though they beat them to the times they had saved his ass) he could now return the favor.

Oh, if only you could see it. You would be happy. You told him in almost all your lives that he was guilty of being self-centered.

Apollo found himself struggling with the thoughts of him, you weren't dead. You were in front of him.

You passed the door to the counter, holding a tray in each hand. That image flashed in his mind, transporting him back to when you used to walk around with two vases on your shoulders, dancing among the people. Some chains hanging from your neck and the jewelry clashed. You have always been beautiful. Whatever way you came back to him; Boy, girl, you were always beautiful.

��� LESTER! —He jumped out of the seat and collided with Jason's shoulder.

— All good?

No, he wanted to be with you.

— The girl over there is talking to you, — Will said with a worried look for his father.

He looked up and spotted you behind the cash register. He made his way towards you without hesitation.

—Mr. Lester, I see that you didn't wait two seconds to use those coupons.— You said with a smile on your lips. Some strands of hair were sticking out from under the cap you were wearing.

—We were hungry.

Idiot, couldn't he think of a better line?

You let out a laugh, and he leaned slightly on the bar, his stomach wouldn't leave him alone.

You leaned over the bar, closing the distance between you. The boy smelled like sunshine and some kind of sweet scent, totally pleasing to your sense of smell. Strangely, you wanted to be even closer to him, like a little impulse to be with him alone, to hug him. Were you attracted to him? But it seemed like a joke, they had only met by chance. You cleared your throat.

— Everything's alright there? — You pointed with your eyes to the table where the rest of his friends and sister were. Although this one had nothing in common with him.

You looked at him. The blonde curls mixed with the black ones making a particular blend, you wondered if it was something genetic and his blue eyes, you had seen them. You were sure.

He touched your shoulder excessively softly, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

— Excuse me?

You let out a laugh and straightened up. Again he was a little further away and you didn't like the feeling.

—I didn't hear you, sorry. Did you say?

Lester smiled.

— It's all good. If we make too much noise, we can leave.

You denied without thinking, almost as an act of desperation. You and he chatted a little more, and you told him to sit down so he could finish his meal.

Walked into the kitchen and cursed under your breath. It was inevitable, he would have to leave at some point. What if you asked for his number? The thought made you bite your lip, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt stupid. Would you look like that in front of him?

You gave him the coupons you had collected to go out with your friends for half a month, just for the sake of it? You never talked to strangers on the street, but Lester didn't seem like a stranger to you.

Apollo returned to the table and ate a chip without much enthusiasm.

Rachel glanced at Piper.

— Any problem? — Frank said drinking soda from the straw.

The god shook his head and sighed. He felt useless, helpless because he wanted to be with you, but he couldn't find a way. Maybe he could ask you for your number. Yeah! Or not?

— I think it's better that you eat. —Rachel said. As if she could guess his thoughts. Or maybe yes? He looked up and took the burger in her hands, after examining it, he handed it to the son of Hades. Nico ate it almost in an instant. And he got up again to go with you.

— Excuse me!

— Tell me — A waiter served him. Apollo felt stupid, so he ended up ordering ice cream.

He returned with the cone in his hand and a pout on his mouth.

Piper hid her giggle behind the paper menu.

The thoughts of asking for his number also didn't leave you alone, but every time you tried to approach him, something simply interrupted you.

You quickened your pace towards him. You cursed the fact that Lester's back was turned, and an arm stopped your path.

— Miss…

Again. You ended up in the kitchen, mumbling and grimacing.

Apollo also couldn't find you at any time that you could speak. He slammed his hand on the table and bumped his forehead against the plastic surface. It seemed like a joke!

Rachel shook her head slightly and stroked her head.

—Hey, Apollo.

He denied rubbing his face on the table.

Everyone wanted to ask, but the redhead put a finger on her lips.

— Apollo

— It's not Apollo, it's Lester

She understood, things weren't going well, but it was inevitable. Rachel got down to Apollo's level.

— Try it one more time, if you hate this, try it as many times as necessary. But know that you tried everything.

The god's blue eyes peered through his hair, and stood up with a sigh.

Everyone at the table pretended not to have heard, they played dumb talking about the weather.

And he tried again.

and he failed again.

You didn't feel any different, you felt like everything had been so easy until you got it into your head that you needed to be with him. You looked through the delivery window and noticed that his table was almost empty, you had worked in food chains for so long to know that they were about to leave the place. Your soul felt a despair that at the same time seemed meaningless to you.

You looked for a pen and paper, a sheet they use for receipt notes.

You wrote your number and a note: call me!, and you doodled a heart. Inexplicably, you also drew a sun. If you couldn't get close, someone else could.

—Brenda!

Your coworker stopped her pace and raised her chin. She just had a tray in her hand, perfect. You walked over to her quickly.

— Deliver this to table seven.

She nodded.

Apollo was already feeling hopeless, he drank Piper's drink and talked to her friends. During the conversation, your coworker handed the note on a small tray. Rachel looked at the paper and waited for Apollo to take it.

He did, and while he was laughing about something Frank had told him, he crumpled it up and threw the ball of paper into the metal trash can.

The redhead didn't say anything, she knew what was happening. She knew that even if she went to the boat and gave the paper to her friend, it would be something else.

The food was finished, and the rest had been pleasant.

Then everyone rose from their chairs.

Apollo looked again at the same window through which you had been spying on him, until at that same moment it was your turn to throw out the trash.

And that's how things ended.

Apollo walked away from the place, and you didn't see him leave. Both felt their spirits on the ground, their stomachs full of anxiety. It was strange, it was fleeting. But when things didn't have to happen, it was that simple. They just wouldn't happen.

At least, not in this life of yours.

Every chance with Apollo would wither, corrode, perish. It didn't matter how much they tried or struggled.

It was not going to work. At that moment, you were destined to meet but not to stay together, not even for a full day.

And how cruel because there was so much he wanted to show you.

But not now, but until 100 years later.

[tsarinatorment]

Michael Yew's Fatal Flaw

This meta is the fault of @apollosgiftofprophecy who made the questionable decision of asking about Michael's fatal flaw in my vicinity the other day.

People who have been following me for a while may recall I once answered an ask about Apollo kid fatal flaws, and mentioned Michael there. Please ignore what I said back then because I'd barely even started picking him apart to see what made him tick, and my conclusions there have since been deemed rather surface-level!

The first question, of course, is what is a fatal flaw? What makes it different from a regular character flaw? The clue's in the name, I think - fatal flaw is one that's most likely to one day result in the hero's death, as Annabeth also suggests in Sea of Monsters:

“I don’t know, Percy, but every hero has one. If you don’t find it and learn to control it … well, they don’t call it ‘fatal’ for nothing.”

Athena gives us a little more to go on in The Titan's Curse:

"In each case, your loved ones have been used to lure you into Kronos's traps. Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. You do not know when it is time to cut your losses. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world. In a hero of the prophecy, that is very, very dangerous." I balled my fists. "That's not a flaw. Just because I want to help my friends—" "The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation," she said. "Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed."

Of course, she's talking specifically to Percy about his flaw here, but there are certainly broader points to be inferred from this. When you break down all her warnings, it boils down near enough to "your fatal flaw is one you either cannot fight, or do not want to fight, because you think it is right/justified", which is interesting. It's a flaw that you don't, necessarily, recognise as a flaw, which makes it difficult to do anything about because how can something that's right be wrong?

As Athena says, the most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation - flaws that, in most situations, actually help, or are perceived to do so. These are the flaws most likely to kill the hero - and maybe others, as well.

With that out of the way, let's start picking apart Michael properly.

Generally, I see anger, pride or stubbornness put forwards as suggestions for his fatal flaw, so I'll look at each of those and see how well they actually fit. On top of that, I'm also going to explore two other contenders that I've come to notice from the hundreds of times I've re-read his scenes - protectiveness, and love.

First up, let's talk about Anger.

Anger is the one that seems to spring to mind most readily for some people (myself included), and it's hardly surprising given his introductory scene:

She was in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the new head counselor for Apollo, which looked kind of funny since Clarisse was a foot taller. Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer. Michael stood four feet six, with another two feet of attitude. He reminded me of a ferret, with a pointy nose and scrunched-up features—either because he scowled so much or because he spent too much time looking down the shaft of an arrow. "It's our loot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!" [...] I couldn't believe Clarisse and Michael standing over her, arguing about something as stupid as loot, when she'd just lost Beckendorf. "STOP IT!" I yelled. "What are you guys doing?" Clarisse glowered at me. "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk." "Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael said.

(As an aside, I love Michael's "kiss my quiver" line because hip quivers are very much a thing and if you think of his quiver as on his hip instead of his back... he's basically saying "kiss my ass" but in a kid-book-friendly way)

Michael's introduction is full of aggression - he's standing on tiptoes, getting "in Clarisse's face", and yelling at her. To make matters worse, it's in front of a grieving Silena which makes him (and Clarisse, but we've already had four books on how much Clarisse can be a bitch in Percy's opinion) look incredibly callous and uncaring. Percy's rather unflattering description about "two feet of attitude" and "because he scowled so much" adds to the overall impression that Michael's a right piece of work as well. Thanks, Percy.

It's a good introduction, though. This is memorable, as far as character introductions go (far more memorable than the first time we're introduced to Beckendorf, or Silena, etc.), and it's full of personality - personality that says Michael is not afraid to throw hands and will do it anywhere, anytime. It directly opposes him with Clarisse, but in such a way that makes them seem like similar characters, and we know anger/rage is one of Clarisse's traits as well.

This scene isn't a one-off, either. We get the full feud against the Ares cabin, which Michael spearheads:

We ducked as Michael Yew's chariot dive-bombed an Ares camper. The Ares camper tried to stab him and cuss him out in rhyming couplets. He was pretty creative about rhyming those cuss words. "We're fighting for our lives," I said, "and they're bickering about some stupid chariot." "They'll get over it," Annabeth said. "Clarisse will come to her senses."

The fact that it's Clarisse, not Michael, that Annabeth thinks is going to stand down also says a lot about how she sees the pair of them, and she must know Michael reasonably well, so this adds another note to the impression that Michael can be even more unreasonable than Clarisse (although it should also be noted that in this feud Michael is the one in the right, and Chiron has said as much to the campers, or at least the head counsellors - and of course from a narrative point of view, Clarisse is a far more familiar character for readers).

Michael himself also admits later on that he lost his temper with Clarisse again off-screen:

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

Those names certainly weren't ones for polite company - or a children's book. I think we can confidently say that Michael certainly has a temper, much like his father is legendary for.

But is it a fatal flaw? Well, sadly we have a scene that's implied to be Michael's death scene (I say implied because we never saw a body and a lot of things don't quite add up, so I prefer to think of him as not-dead, but for the purposes of this meta we'll consider it his death scene), so let's go look at that.

He struck the bridge with the butt of his scythe, and a wave of pure force blasted me backward. Cars went careening. Demigods—even Luke's own men—were blown off the edge of the bridge. Suspension cords whipped around, and I skidded halfway back to Manhattan. I got unsteadily to my feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me, His last arrow was notched in his bow.

Michael's final stand happens immediately after several demigods - including his own siblings - are just blown clean off the bridge by Kronos. Is it a decision spurred by anger after things going wrong after they were finally going right? It would make sense.

However, there is one big issue with anger as his fatal flaw. Obviously, Michael does have this temper, and it does get out of hand, but we only ever see it get out of hand in the (relative) safety of camp. The Michael we see in Manhattan actually seems very calm and in control the entire time. He's observant and quick-witted, and is the only head counsellor to spot (or at least verbalise) a potential flaws in Percy and Annabeth's plan.

"He's right," Annabeth said. "The gods of the wind should keep Kronos's forces away from Olympus by air, so he'll try a ground assault. We have to cut off the entrances to the island." "They have boats," Michael Yew pointed out. An electric tingle went down my back. Suddenly I understood Athena's advice: Remember the rivers. "I'll take care of the boats," I said. Michael frowned. "How?" "Just leave it to me," I said.

Of course, Percy being the son of Poseidon can plug that massive gap, but it took Michael asking the question for him to make the important connection that he needed to.

This calmness continues into the battle itself, as well.

Michael Yew ran up to us. He was definitely the shortest commando I'd ever seen. He had a bandaged cut on his arm. His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time. "Glad you could join us," he said. "Where are the other reinforcements?" "For now, we're it," I said. "Then we're dead," he said. [...] "We have to fall back," Michael said. "I've got Kayla and Austin setting traps farther down the bridge." "No," I said. "Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We're going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn." Michael laughed. "How do you plan to do that?" I drew my sword. "Percy," Annabeth said, "let me come with you." "Too dangerous," I said. "Besides, I need you to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. I'll distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while I keep them focused on me. If anybody can do all that, you can." Michael snorted. "Thanks a lot."

No temper tantrums, no yelling like he did with Clarisse earlier - he's matter of fact when he realises they don't really have reinforcements (not knowing, of course, about Percy's little Styx bath), he doesn't argue with Percy when Percy starts taking command. He continues to say his piece and get his point across, but at no point do we ever get the sense that Michael is anything other than perfectly in control at any point during the battle - which is not what you would expect from a rage-based fatal flaw.

For example, contrast Michael's scenes with Clarisse later in the battle:

The real Clarisse looked up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate. I'd seen a look that intense only once before. Her father, Ares, had worn the same expression when I'd fought him in single combat. "YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screamed at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!" She grabbed her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charged the drakon.

and

"I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she yelled. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?" "Clarisse!" I yelled. "Stop it. Withdraw!" "What's the matter, Titan lord?" she yelled. "BRING IT ON!" There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. The two- hundred-foot-long drakon carcass made a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives. Meanwhile, we tended our wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Long after the enemy had retreated from sight, Clarisse kept riding up and down the avenue with her horrible trophy, demanding that Kronos meet her battle.

Calm and collected whomst? Not to say that Clarisse's temper isn't understandable here, but this fits much more in line with Athena's description of a fatal flaw - one that seems justified, right, even (and later on, Clarisse gets frozen by a Hyperborean Giant, so this does come back to bite her!), as opposed to the way Michael seems to stay in control of his temper even when his siblings are being killed around him.

With all that in mind, while I willa gree that anger is a flaw of Michael's, it certainly doesn't seem to check the boxes to be a fatal flaw, so let's move onto the next one: Pride.

Pride has its roots in the same parts of the narration as anger, so this section is going to be rather shorter because I don't need to rehash all the quotes again. The main thing that stands out on the pride side of the feud, specifically, is that it's completely needless for Michael to keep agitating Clarisse and the Ares cabin.

Clarisse turned to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?" Chiron shuffled his hooves. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—" [...] "I see," Clarisse said. "And the senior counselors? Are any of you going to side with me?" Nobody was smiling now. None of them met Clarisse's eyes.

Chiron's put his hooves down on the matter - the Apollo cabin has the best claim to the chariot, Clarisse is the aggressor here. The other head counsellors all agree with that, too. Michael could, and given the upcoming war, should, ignore her and put his and his siblings' focus towards the war and not an argument he's already won.

But he doesn't. His chariot is attacking the campers - the Apollo kids aren't just defending themselves from the upset Ares kids, they're on the offensive themselves, arguably more so than the Ares campers.

As we crossed the commons area, a fight broke out between the Ares and Apollo cabins. Some Apollo campers armed with firebombs flew over the Ares cabin in a chariot pulled by two pegasi. I'd never seen the chariot before, but it looked like a pretty sweet ride. Soon, the roof of the Ares cabin was burning, and naiads from the canoe lake rushed over to blow water on it. Then the Ares campers called down a curse, and all the Apollo kids' arrows turned to rubber. The Apollo kids kept shooting at the Ares kids, but the arrows bounced off. Two archers ran by, chased by an angry Ares kid who was yelling in poetry: "Curse me, eh? I'll make you pay! / I don't want to rhyme all day!"

This feels a lot like he's trying to validate that yes, the chariot really is his cabin's, and the fact that Clarisse keeps insisting otherwise despite every non-Ares member of the camp being on Michael's side is insulting/undermining the Apollo cabin's claim.

It also sounds like he made sure to have the final word against Clarisse when she still refused to come and fight, which is a very prideful action.

"Nah," Michael said. "Left it at camp. I told Clarisse she could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But she said it was too late. We'd insulted her honor for the last time or some stupid thing." "Least you tried," I said. Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

The thing is, though, that we hit a snag with the pride theory at this point for a similar reason to the anger one - as soon as there's something bigger and more immediate to focus on, Michael sets it aside.

He gives up the chariot they were fighting over - the chariot that, rightfully, is the Apollo cabin's - for no reason other than because he knew that they needed the Ares cabin to come and fight and it was the only thing he could think of that he could do to try and change Clarisse's mind - made even more stark when compared with Michael's original, in-camp, reaction to Clarisse's declaration.

Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying." The counselors were all too stunned to say anything as Clarisse stormed out of the room. Finally Michael Yew said, "Good riddance."

It's true that Michael does get upset when Clarisse ignores his sacrifice of the chariot and still refuses to fight, but I think that's understandable given the situation (and he is, still, a teenage boy with a temper). It doesn't change the fact that he does it, however, nor the fact that Michael doesn't rescind the sacrifice and bring the chariot with him regardless, despite its potential stragetic uses in the war. Pride certainly doesn't seem to have much if any weight in his final stand, either, so I'd say that like anger, this doesn't actually fit as his fatal flaw, even if it might be somewhat of a personal trait/flaw.

At this point, it seems a little bit like a moot point to poke at Stubbornness because most of the counter-arguments for anger and pride also address this, but I'll quickly go over it anyway because this is the first one that properly shows itself all the way through Michael's appearances.

I've already mentioned the way he doesn't back down in the chariot feud, which is pride, yes, but also stubbornness - he won't leave it alone, won't let Clarisse stake her own claim on it, keeps fighting past the point of necessity over it.

But then we have his final scene, where he stands his ground. There's no indication that Michael even tried to run when the bridge crumbled.

I got unsteadily to my feet. The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me, His last arrow was notched in his bow. "Michael, go!" I screamed. "Percy, the bridge!" he called. "It's already weak!" At first I didn't understand. Then I looked down and saw fissures in the pavement. Patches of the road were half melted from Greek fire. The bridge had taken a beating from Kronos's blast and the exploding arrows. "Break it!" Michael yelled. "Use your powers!" [...] I turned to thank Michael Yew, but the words died in my throat. Twenty feet away, a bow lay in the street. Its owner was nowhere to be seen. "No!" I searched the wreckage on my side of the bridge. I stared down at the river. Nothing.

Michael completely ignores Percy telling him to run, tells him to break the bridge that he's currently on and clearly has no intentions of leaving, not with that notched arrow that he then seems to have fired, given that there's no arrow later on. This seems the closest we've got so far to a flaw that goes beyond a simple character flaw and into the fatal category.

Except.

He's a stubborn character, but just like with anger, like with pride, Michael keeps putting it aside when it might otherwise cause issues during the battle - he questions Percy's plans more than once, but despite that, he cedes command to Percy on Williamsburg Bridge, follows his orders instead of continuing with his own strategies, and generally shows that he's exactly the sort of person you want by your side/at your back when you're fighting. Michael's flexible and prepared to change and adapt as the situation does - which is pretty much the opposite of stubbornness, so while at first glance it seemed like a strong candidate it's once again contradicted by the scenes on Williamsburg Bridge.

So, that's the three usual suspects that arise from the chariot feud all falling apart once we rearch the battlefield. Michael is certainly passionate about the fight - more than once, Percy implies that he seems to actually be having a good time on the battlefield and there's no other explanation other than eagerness for this moment:

I sliced through armor like it was made of paper. Snake women exploded. Hellhounds melted to shadow. I slashed and stabbed and whirled, and I might have even laughed once or twice—a crazy laugh that scared me as much as it did my enemies. I was aware of the Apollo campers behind me shooting arrows, disrupting every attempt by the enemy to rally. Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred. I followed with the Apollo campers at my heels. "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

But despite all of this, that passion doesn't seem to be based in anger, pride, or stubbornness, despite those being the first things people seem to think of when they think about Michael - and that's why I have two more options added to the list to explore.

Moving on, then, I'll start with Protectiveness.

So, just now I said that stubbornness is what caused Michael's final moments, but is it really? It was certainly part of it, but also - as I mentioned earlier, when talking about anger, Michael's final stand is immediately after some of his siblings have been thrown off the bridge - having already seen at least one other sibling killed earlier:

Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn't see what happened to him next. I didn't want to know.

Siblings, of course, that as their head counsellor he is the one in charge of and responsible for - it's likely that he's the oldest in the cabin as well (although not guaranteed), and that these are all his younger siblings that are getting killed/seriously injured/status unknown. We're told that the "remaining" Apollo campers are running for the end of the bridge and retreating as far as possible - all of them except for Michael, who was with them to start with but stopped and turned to face the enemy.

Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but Annabeth stayed right beside me, fighting with her knife and mirrored shield as we slowly backed up the bridge.

Followed by

The remaining Apollo campers had almost made it to the end of the bridge, except for Michael Yew, who was perched on one of the suspension cables a few yards away from me. His last arrow was notched in his bow.

This is the point when Michael makes the decision that the bridge has to be destroyed, figures out how to destroy it, and basically orders Percy to do it. I've got a whole other argument about how Michael is the reason Olympus didn't fall that first night of the siege, but at this point I think it's blatantly obvious that the only thing Michael is thinking about is protecting his siblings. Why else would he put himself (tiny archer who should never, ever, be on the front lines - which is hinted at by the fact he still seeks out as high a ground as he can get aka the cables) as the rear guard, the barrier between an entire army and his fleeing siblings?

He's protecting his siblings - he's guarding their backs as they flee to safety and he's finding a way to stop them from being pursued, even if it kills him in the process. It's clearly the right decision to him, the only decision he thinks he can take - and it's textbook fatal flaw.

But before I settle on that, there's one more I want to talk about, which is really an extension of protectiveness, and that's Love.

I'll admit that love always feels like a bit of a cheat to me as a fatal flaw - it's a bit of a catch-all, in that if you argue hard enough you can pull back almost any character to love in some way (which is why Aphrodite is such an underrated yet powerful goddess), and it's nowhere near as obvious for Michael as it is for Apollo and Nico (yes I know what Bianca said, but consider: she didn't know what she was talking about. Nico's fatal flaw is a whole other meta, though), but I think it fills in a few gaps that protectiveness leaves a little open.

There's something that gets overlooked a lot when Michael gets discussed, especially the chariot feud, despite the fact that Percy outright states it.

Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer.

No sugar-coating, no forgetting about a background character that got all of two pre-death appearances - Lee was killed in battle, and Michael was the one that took over the cabin from him.

We never get any canon information on Michael and Lee's relationship, but obviously they knew each other well, given that Michael's the next most senior kid - and isn't that the kicker. Because this line tells us one very important thing: Michael had to step into his big brother's suddenly-vacated shoes in the immediate aftermath of a battle, with no time to grieve.

We even have a comparison to make right in that same scene:

Even Jake Mason, the hastily appointed new counselor from Hephaestus, managed a faint smile.

Jake's also been shoved into the same role, a role we later find out he never wanted and never recovered from - big brother's dead, your turn to step up and lead the cabin in war. Most of the counsellors are laughing but all Jake can do is a faint smile. He's not okay, and you wouldn't expect him to be - and in The Lost Hero he's even more blatant about the fact that he's not okay (same as Will, in fact) - so, clearly, Michael is not okay, either.

The chariot feud is a whole mess of emotions - anger, pride and stubbornness are ones I've already covered - but I never see anyone talk about grief, and how Michael's been forced to lead a cabin in the wake of the death of his older sibling (the first wartime promotion, really - the Stolls situation isn't quite the same), and how he has to be at least somewhat off-balance, because grief is a tricky little thing and there's no way it hasn't got its nasty little claws in Michael, and that only a few scant months - a year at most - after Lee's death, it's still very, very raw.

And there's a strong correlation between love and grief. "What is grief but love perservering?" "Grief is the price we pay for love" - there's a neverending list of sayings about grief and love.

Then there's the bridge. There's Michael putting Austin and Kayla right at the back, setting traps but a long way back from the front line. There's the way he knew that without the Ares cabin they weren't going to win so he surrendered the chariot in the hopes of getting the front line fighters to join in - the ones that will stand between the archers and the enemy, between his siblings and the enemy. There's, again, the way he stood his ground as a barrier between Kronos and his army and his siblings, even though if Percy hadn't destroyed the bridge he would've been overrun and killed (and he was in such a precarious position that breaking the bridge... well, we know what happened or do we).

But also there's the fact that Michael was fighting at all. The fact that Michael wanted to fight - when Percy gives him the opportunity to take the fight to Kronos, to fight back rather than just numbly defending the bridge/Manhattan/Olympus, Michael seizes it.

His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time.

"That was my last sonic arrow," Michael said. "A gift from your dad?" I asked. "God of music?" Michael grinned wickedly.

I followed with the Apollo campers at my heels. "Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

He's right there on the front line, it's so obvious that he's there because he wants to be, because he believes in their cause. Because he loves Apollo.

It's never said in so many words (although we know Apollo has interacted with Michael because he's given him those sonic arrows), but it's there in Michael's actions, in how he never falters in the pro-god side of the war despite losing sibling after sibling after sibling to it - Michael has to love Apollo for anything else to make sense.

It's his siblings he sacrifices himself for, but it's his father he chose to fight for. And it's both that he died for.

If that's not a fatal flaw in action, what is?

[willsimpforanyone]

Hey, could you do a story where the reader cuts and then (Will Solace from Hoo,) finds them and thats how they start a relationship? Thank you!

i can absolutely do this

obviously! this is a trigger warning! this will have descriptions of self-harm that people may find distressing! if you struggle with this, know that i understand and i love you

----------------------------------

Everything was just... a bit too much.

It felt like everyone was against me, too many eyes on me, too many intrusive questions. All I could think about was how I could relieve this horrific feeling of tightness and anxiety and utter hopelessness residing like a parasite in my chest.

I had to last the whole day, the whole day around other people and I crawl into my cabin at the end of the day. Everyone else is round the bonfire so, thank all the gods, I was free.

In the quiet of the empty cabin, I slip a small box from under my bed and pop it open. The metal glints in the low light and a sick sense of relief flares from my ribcage. I yank off my dirty jeans and ignore the slight sting from the days-old cuts.

The pain is sharp and grounding and i inhale sharply as I slip the blade over the top of my thigh. The parasitic anxiety eases in my chest somewhat, retracting its claws and letting me breathe.

Blood beads over my skin and I dab at it with the cotton pads in the little box. I repeat the action four times, finding it easier to exist with each pass of the blade and each thin red line that appears on my skin. Falling back onto the bed, I exhale in relief, mind entirely focused on the sharp, stinging pain radiating from my injuries.

The creak of the door opening sends a bolt of terror through me and instinctively, I shove my box behind me. Eyes wide and anxious, I stare at the person coming through the door of my cabin.

Will steps inside cautiously and despite my abject fear, a part of me flutters and lights up just at the sight of him. For a good ten seconds, there's nothing. Nothing happens, nothing is said, we just look at each other.

He closes the door behind him, visibly sturdying himself.

"Have you cleaned them?"

What?

"...what?"

"Your cuts." He pads closer, kneeling down in front of me and examining the bloody lines on my legs. "Have you cleaned them yet?"

Wordlessly, I shake my head, staring at him like he's grown two heads. Will stands up, examining the bathroom and grabbing the first aid kit that the Apollo cabin mandated had to be in every cabin.

The antiseptic and cotton pads get removed and he kneels back down in front of me. "This is going to sting," is the only warning I get before he starts dabbing at my cuts. I inhale sharply, fingers clenching in the bedsheets but remaining silent.

He cleans up the blood and doggedly disinfects the injuries, taping bandages over them and apologising softly every time I wince. I just watch him, confused and upset and grateful and terrified that he's going to hate me.

He even takes the blade and carefully washes it and wipes it dry so it doesn't rust, setting everything neatly back in my badly hidden box.

The box gets put to the side for now and he sits next to me, clearing his throat and looking firmly at the wall opposite us. It's me who slices the knife through the tension.

"...I'm sorry you saw that." My voice is less steady than I'd like it to be, but I don't burst into tears so I decide I'm proud.

Will shakes his head, shrugging slightly. "I've seen worse," he murmurs.

I look over at him, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Really?"

He looks like he's struggling for words, wondering how exactly to explain this, landing on the vaguest and yet simplest explanation. "...being a demigod is hard."

I nod, looking down at the floor and wisely deciding not to ask any further questions about that. Clearing my throat, I chew at my lip and glance back over.

"Um. Do you hate me now?"

The small smile Will sends my way is a better balm to my anxiety than anything else has ever been and I briefly wonder if Apollo had blessed him with a healing smile. "No, I don't hate you, I would never hate you."

"Never, huh?" I breathe a laugh. "That's a bold claim."

"It's true," he shrugs, gently nudging my shoulder with his. "Never, I'd never hate you."

His earnestness and honesty feels like a wriggling hope creeping to life under my ribcage. I can't help a smile quirking at my lips and I know he notices because he grins another world-saving grin.

"You look so nice when you smile," he hums, cheeks pink but not backing down. "I mean, you look nice anyway, but you look... even nicer when you smile."

I nudge him back, shaking my head but smiling despite myself. "Shut up."

"Nope." Will wraps an arm over my shoulder, almost protectively. "I'm gonna be nice to you forever. Shh, forever, I said it, forever."

Rolling my eyes, I lean into him. "So, do I come to you when I... need patching up?"

"Yeah, I can help you with that," he nods, then squeezes my shoulder. "Also, like, if you just want a chat. Or if you're bored. Or... to come ask me on a date or something."

"What was that last one?" I look over at him, voice teasing but also hoping that he meant it.

"Well, I don't want to ask you on a date right after... that," he flushes slightly, his smile turning slightly wobbly. "But when you're prepared, come find me, yeah?"

The fluttery hope in my chest twitches to life and bats against my heart, kickstarting something warm and sweet.

"Yeah, okay, I can... I can do that."

----------------------------------

thank you for requesting, thank you for requesting!

[genericpuff]

Soo to understand some things because i get what's happening in LO only from Tumblr;

Apparently now there are two Titan villains Ouranos and Kronos for... reasons unknown

There's a prophecy of Apollo overcoming Zeus that makes no sense

Persephone is the one responsible for winter so Rachel proves she doesn't understand the meaning of the original myth of Hades and Persephone that's a metaphor for changing seasons / life and death

Kassandra is the one to tell it even though she was cursed by Apollo her prophecies to never be believed and also she's part of the plot even though Achilles in LO is very young and she's part of the Trojan war so... Rachel messed up the time periods

Eros and Psyche believe her as well which again doesn't make any sense because Kassandra's gift was also her curse that led to her downfall

I am sure there are more but Rachel just keeps adding plots and plots to no end trying to make things more interesting apparently? Idk so far the series is an overwhelming burn out 😅

Kronos was used as the midseason finale villain for people who are on free to read episodes, Ouranos was used as the actual midseason finale villain for people who are on FastPass, with Apollo as just like, an accessory. IDK if this is foreshadowing for Ouranos to actually 'return' (literally I have no idea how Apollo overthrowing Zeus will lead to Ouranos being revived but god knows at this point) but there are definitely WAY too many villains going on for a story that's meant to be just a romance/drama series

The prophecy for Apollo overthrowing Zeus is literally just the prophecy of "descendants of Ouranos use fertility goddesses to overthrow their predecessors" (so Ouranos used Gaia to gain power over the realms < Kronos overthrew Ouranos using Rhea < Zeus overthrew Kronos using Metis, even though most of the credit technically goes to Hera for handing herself over to Kronos in an attempt to poison him under the guise of them having a "relationship"). And yeah the implication is that the fertility goddesses in LO are limited to ONE family line that's been passed down since Gaia/Ouranos like the freaking Avatar, which KINDA REINTRODUCES THE INCEST BTW-

100% , I feel like it was her attempt at giving Persephone a "flaw" but this doesn't work because we've seen Rachel retcon aspects of Persephone to make her perfect before (the green hands) and it's not cool that Rachel can only give her a "flaw" by taking away the legitimate strength of the one other character who's CRUCIAL to the original story this series is based on.

More of Rachel trying to give lip service to the myths to sound smart even though it literally makes everything fall apart

Right, and this is such a massive plothole that happens TWICE within their respective episodes

This one time Rachel described her writing process as that scene from the Simpsons where Homer Simpson tried to force two jigsaw pieces together, and frankly, I think we should have taken that blatant foreshadowing more seriously because it's clear she's just trying to make circles fit in square holes with the mess that is this narrative.

And yeah, presumably the series is gonna end by mid 2024 so the estimates right now pin the series ending in 15-20 episodes, 30 tops. I have no clue how she's going to wrap all this up when she's still establishing new things. Even experienced professional writers wouldn't bother with trying to save this wreckage as it is, it would literally be sent back to the drawing board, but it's being left up to Rachel who's NOT an experienced writer to figure out how to end it on the fly. We're not in for a good time with this LMAO

[livealittleoc-cb]

Arawn: 043 @evicted-oc

043. an empty throne room, moonlight glimmering through tall windows .

Apollo was the prince in the Kingdom of the Sun. He was next in line for the throne since his father was growing old both parents wanted to retire. He was meant to get married to a princess in a neighboring kingdom but Apollo didn't want to. He didn't like the princess and didn't even like women. But his father wouldn't listen and was more worried about future offspring and the continuation of the royal bloodline.

Arawn was the leader of the Sun Kingdom's army. He was known around as Death and was addressed as such. He was deadly and knew how to use a weapon well. He was loyal to the kingdom and it's royalty. But overall he was loyal to Prince Apollo.

Even though the two work along in the same circles they have never fully and officially met. Not until Apollo's dad introduced him to the guards. "And this is Death. Our loyal head guard of the army." His dad introduced and Apollo looked at him he melt like he melted the minute their eyes met. He looked beautiful to him. He swoon with a dopey smile until his dad cleared his throat and he squeaked standing up straighter. "Y-Yes! Um...what was it?" He asked a little confused, golden eyes looking up at him while Arawn bit back a fond smile at the short blonde.

His dad just sighed and shook his head and signaled him over to keep walking. He walked behind his parents and quickly gave Death a little wave before running after him.

And after that day, they couldn't stop thinking of the other.

And then one thing after the other they started sneaking around to meet each other.

Today they were meeting at the throne room. Death slipped out of his room and made his way to the throne room. He stood in the big window room, moonlight seeping in from the fully moon outside. It cause the jewels and gold in the room to glitter as he nervously waited for his beloved. Apollo appeared a little bit after in a beautiful dress, his freckles glittering in the moonlight, golden eyes glowing in happiness the minute he saw Death.

Death's breath catched as he looked at the beautiful man in front of him and he felt himself falling in love with him all over again. His prince was beautiful. He held his arms open for the man, said man squealing and cuddling into his chest with a little giggle. Before either of the two could say something a voice spoke. "I knew there was something going on." A deep voice rang out and the two lovebirds froze. Apollo let go of Death quickly while the taller man stood up straighter.

"I'm so sorry your hi-" The king raised his hand, Death instantly shutting up before the older man looked at Apollo.

"This is why you've been oh so interested in the royal guards, huh?" Apollo faced burned in embarressment as he looked down at his fingers. The king sighed as he closed his eyes in thought. "You're meant to be getting married."

"To someone I don't like and makes me uncomfortable."

"It's what's best for you and the kingdom."

"It's what's best for you, father! Ma doesn't even want me to marry her. She wants me to actually be happy." He said as he grabbed Death's hand and looked at his father with sad eyes. "And he makes me happy." Arawn melted as he lightly squeezed his hand and kissing the top of his head. Apollo smiled up at him as his father looked between the two.

He let out a soft sigh of defeat before nodding. "You have been happier recently. It's a nice change from how you were before." He muttered and he tightened his jaw a little looking at Death. "Take care of my son." Death nodded his head quickly wrapping his arm around Apollo.

"I would never dream of hurting him your majesty." His father nodded before his face softened looking at Apollo.

"I'll call off the engagement." He kissed his forehead softly. "Just be happy and don't let this get in the way of your king training." He said giving him a look. He nods his head quickly before turning his head to Death with a happy squeal and little bounce.

[zazzander]

Octavian: the name

I didn't need the reminder. I'd been so proud of my son, the original Octavian, later Caesar Augustus.

So names have meaning, right? Perseus was the hero that got the happy ending, which is why Sally Jackson chose it, even though Perseus was a son of Zeus not Poseidon. The original Jason was the captain of the Argo. And our Jason sailed on the Argo "Two" (too).

Then there's Octavian.

“Possibly my namesake, Octavian – Augustus Caesar. Everyone says I bear a remarkable resemblance.”

This is the first mention of Octavian's name and how it's related to the first Emperor. Now, OG Octavian was a ruthless politician, not a hero. Which is interesting, because usually if someone has a namesake in these stories it would be an actual mythological hero (Percy and Jason being examples). Not like, an actual person.

Besides, the first day of August is most auspicious - the month named after my ancestor Augustus. And you know how he united the Romans? [...] He saved Rome by becomes First Citizen. He wanted peace and prosperity, not power! Believe me, Mike, I intend to follow his example. I will save New Rome."

Unlike a lot of the other heroes with namesakes, Octavian seems to have invested himself into being just like Augustus. To follow his example.

How so? Well, reading through the lines a bit, we can guess that New Rome is mostly based off the Roman Republic's culture. It's hesitance to embrace the Greeks - for one thing. But also the fact each cohort has its standard. The fact Apollo isn't really worshipped as an important god (and his children generally dismissed as cowardly).

Going back to the original quote (at the top), we see Apollo talking about how proud he was of the original Octavian (Augustus). Despite Augustus' earlier portrayal as a powerhungry tyrant.

Which means me think Octavian's need to follow Augustus' example stems, in part, from Apollo's pride of his son. Feeding into Apollo's nostalgia.

This was a smaller, kinder, much improved Rome - the Rome we always thought mortals were capable of but never achieved. And, yes, of course we gods came here for nostalgia, to relive those wonderful centuries when mortals worshipped us freely across the empire, perfuming the air with burnt sacrifices.

Because even though Apollo says this - he's like the only god who seems to agree. At least, according to pretty much every Roman demigod who isn't Octavian.

And note, Apollo talks about the empire. Because of course he does. Under the Republic, Apollo wasn't that important. He pretty much had no Roman equivalent and that made it very hard to integrate him. The person who pressed for that integration? It was Augustus.

(The Romans had been becoming more and more interested in Greek concept for a long time. It's not like Apollo was just ignored until then. He had a Temple near Rome. But importantly none in Rome.)

But while we see a bit of Octavian trying to replicate this idealised Augustus. Of following the footsteps of his namesake. Almost like... like he really wanted Apollo to acknowledge him.

I find it really interesting as well, that we don't have Octavian's last name (I know I'm bringing it up again but it's important). A lot of Riordan's main cast have last names. And especially for Octavian, his should be just as important as his first name. He derives so much of his political power from his family yet he also talks about them vaguely.

The name he clings to is Apollo's.

Rachel Dare faced the augur, "Octavian, son of Apollo, you should take this more seriously. Even Romans respected your father's Oracle of Delphi."

"Ha!" Octavian said. "You're the Oracle of Delphi? Right. And I'm the Emperor Nero."

Octavian doesn't correct Rachel when she falsely calls him a son of Apollo. She calls Apollo his father. Even though that's blatantly wrong. Maybe that's because he'd refer that reality over the current one.

(I think Riordan has admitted this was a mistake but it's in the text so I'm going to use it!)

Regardless, like all the namesakes, Octavian's comes with a twist. Percy = actually a son of Poseidon. Jason = actually not the captain. Octavian? = actually dies young.

Brutal.

Anyway, I just wanted to talk about it. Because there's a real potential for the two of them to be compared in the eyes of Apollo. And, of course, the second Octavian really doesn't measure up.

Their former augur, my descendant Octavian, had died in the battle against Gaia. (Which I had a hard time feeling sad about, but that's another story.)

[theunholygrails]

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

[sunstone-smiles]

Can I request an apollo and blackquill fic 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 Maybe they were facing off in a game night with the fam and got too competitive and one tries to get the upper hand in a silly way 🤭

Hello Anon! Ace Attorney fics are back! I had a lot of fun with this prompt, so I hope you enjoy!

Family Game Day Shenanigans

Series: Ace Attorney

Characters: Apollo Justice, Simon Blackquill, Trucy Wright, Athena Cykes

Words: 1,973

Summary: When Apollo gets competitive about the game he Simon, Trucy, and Athena are playing together, he uses a silly tactic to try and win, but it soon backfires and turns into an all out playful battle. Enjoy!

—

The engines of the video game karts roar as they fly down the gimmick-filled track, zooming around the underwater themed corners. Apollo is on the edge of his seat as he races against his friends, twisting a small rectangular controller in his hands like an actual steering wheel as his eyes are focused on the screen. He pushes the top right button where his index finger lies and launches a turtle shell forward towards the kart in front of him, but Simon pushes the same button on his controller and activates a banana item to block the turtle shell from hitting the back of his kart. The two items collide and Simon speeds across the finish line in first place, scratch free. Right behind his character, Apollo’s virtual kart races across the finish line in second, followed by Athena in third and Trucy in fourth.

“Darn, I thought I had you that time,” Apollo says to Simon sitting on the blue couch alongside him, while Trucy and Athena stand behind. All of them wear casual clothing of shirts and sweatpants rather than their usual outfits while they have a family game day within the Wright Anything Agency. 

“Ugg, Simon won again?” Athena leans over the back of the cushions, defeated.

“He’s even better than Polly,” Trucy chimes in and leans over the couch on Apollo’s side.

“Yeah, yeah. I almost had him that time though,” Apollo huffs.

“Face it Justice-dono,” Simon glances over at him with a pleased grin, “You can’t handle the fact that I’ve gotten better than you.”

Apollo furrows his brows. “Oh please. You’ve only played this a few times. Athena, Trucy, and I play it almost all the time.”

“And yet, the results tell a different story,” the man with black and white hair smirks. 

Apollo grumbles. His competitive spirit refuses for him to lose to Blackquill’s smug demeanor. “Oh yeah? I’ll come in first next round, just you wait!”

“Whatever you say, Justice-dono,” Simon confidently smiles and turns back to the television. Apollo narrows his eyes at him, then turns back to the TV as well, determined to win this round.

They pick one of the classic cement road courses of the game to decrease the amount of traps on the track, so the results would be determined more by skill rather than luck. Then, they begin. Just like all their other matches, Simon quickly takes the lead. Chaotic items are tossed left and right for the other players to try and catch up to first, but Simon still trails ahead. As they zoom past the same corner for a second time, the game notifies them that this is the last lap. At this rate, Simon will win again. None of the items Apollo is throwing are enough to stop Simon, and he can’t get enough speed to pass him. 

Apollo momentarily takes his eyes off the screen to glance over at Simon. He sees that smug air of confidence as the prosecutor nears the finish line. The competitive spirit within Apollo boils. If he wants to win, it’s now or never.

Without really thinking, Apollo takes his left hand off the controller, while still moving his character with his right, and squeezes Simon’s side—followed by the lawyer wiggling his fingers into that same spot. The prosecutor jumps and grabs Apollo’s wrist, almost veering off the course due to Apollo’s sneaky tactic of tickling.

“Justice-dono! What are you doing!?” Simon growls as he struggles to keep his character lined up on the track.

“Oh nothing,” Apollo smirks devilishly while continuing to scribble into Simon’s side, “Just winning.” The black and white haired man tries to scoot to the side and tug the lawyer’s hand away, snarling at Apollo to knock it off while his kart veers into the grass; but they both freeze when the game suddenly plays a short victory tune, signaling the players that Apollo crossed the finish line in first place.

Apollo raises both of his hands victoriously in the air. “Yes! I won—AH!” the lawyer yells when he’s suddenly tackled down onto the other side of the couch by a growling Simon. 

“Blackquill!” Apollo panics, now realizing the consequences of his actions, “L-Look! We can talk about thi-IS! Hahaha!” he starts giggling when Simon gets back at him by tickling his ribs.

“So, you want to play dirty, huh? Fine by me!” Simon exclaims and digs even further into a squirming Apollo’s ribs, curling his fingers into stiff claws and swiping them back and forth across the ticklish spot. 

“No! Nohoho! Wahahait!” the lawyer kicks his legs and tries to shove the taller man away, which only leaves himself open for Simon to scribble upwards into Apollo’s underarms. The lawyer yelps and clamps his arms down as Simon gets his revenge for the mischievous tactics Apollo had used earlier. “Ahahathena! Truhucy! Hehehelp!”

“Buuut you’re the one who started it, Polly,” Trucy smiles.

Athena leans her arm on the back of the couch. “Yeah, maybe we’ll help later, you know, after we enjoy the show.”

“Ohoho come on!” Apollo tries to wriggle out of Simon’s hold when his other friends offer no help at all. He’ll have to take matters into his own hands if he’s going to escape this mess he created.

Through his squirming, the giggling lawyer reaches his hand up and scribbles into Simon’s ribs, causing the prosecutor to quickly grab Apollo's wrist to stop him; but now that there’s an opening, the lawyer uses his free hand to attack Simon’s other set of ribs. Blackquill reels back while holding in his laughter and grabs Apollo’s other hand away from his chest, but the lawyer swiftly sits up and pushes Simon into the cushions of the couch. Apollo lunges at the prosecutor and scribbles into his ribs with fast fingers, making Simon flinch back and try to tug Apollo away. 

“J-Justice-dono!” Blackquill growls through his teeth while the uncharacteristic giggles build up in his chest. He attempts to wrestle Apollo’s hands away, but the lawyer finds an opening and plunges his fingers into Simon’s belly.

“GAH! Mnmpfff—hahaha! Justice-donohoho!” Simon bursts into giggles and tries to squirm away from Apollo’s fingers tickling his tummy. His grip slightly weakens, but he quickly grabs Apollo’s arms and tugs the shorter man over his lap, shoving the lawyer face first into the couch. Now with the advantage, Simon scribbles into Apollo’s sides once more.

“AH! Nohot agahain!” Apollo giggles as Simon scratches his fingers up and down his torso to get the lawyer back into a giggle fit. Apollo wriggles and squirms to regain the upper hand. He reaches behind him and scribbles into Simon’s side to make the prosecutor falter, then quickly pushes himself up and shoves the taller man down onto the arm of the couch.

“Take this!” Apollo exclaims, and just like Simon had done earlier, Apollo quickly claws into his torso.

“Hahaha! Why yohohou!” Simon roars as he breaks out into more giggly laughter.

Athena and Trucy chuckle as they watch this tickle fight play out. “You know, maybe we will help,” the female lawyer smiles, “Are you ready Trucy?”

The magician giggles. “Ready!”

The girls then dash over to the arm of the couch and each grab one of Simon’s hands currently trying to shove off the lawyer. “Don’t forget about this spot, Apollo!” Athena grins as she and Trucy pin Simon’s arms over his head and hold on tight. 

Simon increases his squirming. “Noho! Don’t yohou dare!” Simon exclaims through his laughter, but his threat is completely disregarded when Apollo springs at the opportunity to sneak his hands upwards into Blackquill’s underarms.

“AH! Hahaha!” the prosecutor nearly jumps out of his skin when Apollo scribbles into his most ticklish spot, “Yohohou are gohohoing to get it!”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try,” Apollo states with a smug air of confidence, thinking that he has the upper hand in this fight. Simon squirms left and right while he tries to pull his arms out of Trucy and Athena’s hold. He twists onto his side, but he rolls a little too far and ends up tumbling off the couch onto his stomach, resulting in the girls letting him loose and Apollo getting knocked down alongside him. Simon begins to push himself up to get revenge, but Apollo lunges back at his sides before he can fully recover. The prosecutor lets out a bout of laughter and almost flops down; however, even through the Apollo’s attack, Blackquill is able to keep himself up and nudge the shorter man backwards. The lawyer topples onto his spine and lifts his head up to see a smirking Blackquill towering over him with wiggling fingers in the air. Apollo’s eyes go wide and he scrambles to escape by turning around and crawling away as fast as he can, but Simon catches his leg, causing the lawyer to trip onto his stomach. 

“Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily,” Simon snarls and yanks the lawyer’s leg towards him. Apollo desperately claws at the ground like a cat pawing at yarn to try and escape but he stops in his tracks when Simon tightly grabs hold of his ankle and starts scribbling into his socked foot. Apollo yelps and crumbles into a giggling puddle, pounding his fists on the ground from Blackquill’s attack. Simon then eyes another potentially ticklish spot and pulls the squirming lawyer closer to him to reach it. He wiggles into the back of Apollo’s knee, scribbling into the fabric of his sweatpants, which sends the lawyer into another giggle fit when Simon digs into this hidden spot. Apollo twists around to try to kick Simon away, but now that the lawyer’s on his back, Simon lunges his hands one more towards his torso.

“Last chance, Justice-dono! Surrender!”

Apollo is giggling his head off, but that same competitive spirit is telling him not to give up. “Nehehever!”

“Then you asked for it!” Simon slips his hands under Apollo’s shirt and scribbles into his ribs. Apollo attempts to squirm away, but he lets out a squeal of laughter when Simon finds an extremely ticklish area right below his ribs.

“NO! Nohohot there! Ahahanywhere but there!” Apollo erupts into hysterics and tries to curl himself on his side to escape the devilish scribbling in his most ticklish spot, “I give! I gihihihive!”

Simon pulls his hands away and Apollo flops onto his back, leaving the lawyer in a breathless, giggly puddle. The prosecutor smirks. “And that’s why you always play fair, Justice-dono.”

“R…Right…” Apollo responds winded, “No more dirty tricks.” 

“Looks like Simon wins again,” Trucy chuckles.

“Although I do have to say, it was a pretty close match up until the end,” Athena teases.

Apollo sits up and wipes away the ghost tickles while shooting the two girls a glare. “Ha ha, very funny.”

“Cheer up Justice-dono,” Simon sits himself back on the couch. “Or do you need a bit of motivation to do so?” he wiggles his fingers in the air. Apollo flinches back.

“No no! I’m fine!” The lawyer releases the tension in his muscles. “Let’s just get back to the game, and I promise no tricks this time!”

Apollo takes his place back on the couch and Simon hands him his controller that had fallen during their little scuffle. They pick the next track and start the game again, racing around the colorful course. Apollo may have not won the tickle fight or a fair match of their game yet, but the results don’t seem to matter as long as everyone’s having a good time. However, Apollo still has competitive bones in his body, so even though the results may be insignificant, the lawyer still wants to try and see if he can beat Simon in their game once and for all. 

[blue-dream-rhapsody]

Update again

Me in most of this orb trial when we get one over on Phoenix: “HAH get fucked”

Me getting spoiled about what’s really going on: oh god damn it

(Also tangent but we’re gonna be going back to Justice For All I guess bc my mom wants to, remains to be seen if she’ll sit through Big Top but if I have to churn through it by myself I fucking will. Also she wants merch?? Like honest to god??)

I was convinced Dhurke was gonna die from very early on in case 5 and I hated that (WELL LITTLE DID I KNOW)

Atishon was climbing to be among my top hated but he ended up settling at about fourth, mostly because he’s extremely pathetic

ARMIE HURT SO BAD she was so precious

Coffee bar has us like “the REAL killer was GODOT he’s BACK”

I need you to know my mom lost it for a minute straight at Shah’do biting Edgeworth’s cravat and then him being almost choked to death trying to get him freed. This is why despite loving others a lot too Edgeworth is still my favorite prosecutor bar none. Only he could have these things inflicted upon him

I realized about when Amara was revealed what had happened to Dhurke and. Proceeded to not be okay for the next several minutes as I had to point Apollo there. His realization was indeed the second time I cried thank you for asking

That said I was wrong about HOW LONG that had been true and realizing that was WORSE

Have to say though. Realizing it was Maya’s body enduring the whole cave thing was somehow funny in retrospect. Please save this poor girl

Jesus Christ though I love Dhurke. So much. Probably my favorite character introduced in SoJ like everything he did is so.

I also started putting together the Rayfa thing i think as soon as we got that photo, but I thought my mom was reaching by saying Nayna was Amara in disguise HOW WRONG I WAS

Nahyuta is pretty good with me now too, doing everything he can to protect Rayfa and also hoping somewhere inside he could be saved, also left hand behind back versus right hand over chest was on purpose right

Idk something about the whole Diego>Mia>Phoenix>Apollo(/Athena) “smile through it” line (abbr.) mixed with “A dragon never yields” and Nahyuta saying Apollo has both a dragon and a phoenix in him but that phoenix also CAME from something before him that’s more important to Phoenix than Apollo will ever know. They’re still here too.

ABOUT TIME PHOENIX ACKNOWLEDGES APOLLO FOR HIS GOOD QUALITIES it took two years and you IMMEDIATELY gave him forged evidence I could kill you

I knew even ahead Apollo would stay but it still makes me melancholic WAA is his familyyyy

TRUCY SLEEPING ON EDGEWORTH HELP

THIS FUCKING CUTSCENE dhurke’s spirit the butterfly they can’t keep getting away with this (they can. Please get away with this more)

“Should we tell them finally” YES. HAS THE TRIAL FULL OF TRUE PARENTAGE DISCUSSION MADE THIS CLEAR TO YOU YET MR. WRIGHT. (No really he’s respecting her wishes and she’s been through a lot I get it but. Please. Tell them.)

My mom realizing who the client was for the first day of the DD special episode was priceless

(Assorted thoughts with whole game Dual Destinies and Spirit of Justice spoilers under the cut)

Of course, we finished the main story DD cases before playing it so I had to kind of check myself with Fulbright and Blackquill not being fully explored chronologically. But it being Phoenix’s first trial after getting his badge back was just so good because of course an orca would be his client

In all I really enjoyed the case, I think she did too. I kinda liked that it ended with it all having been an accident (apart from the cover-up). She also definitely lost her shit again when it came down to “you loved ‘we’re gonna defend the orca in court’ now get ready for ‘time to cross-examine the orca in court’”

In all DD was fine, but not my favorite of the games

ONTO SPIRIT OF JUSTICE SPOILERS

Ahlbi feels like he could be a weirdgirl sidekick if only given the chance, we spend comparatively little time with him but I’ve found him endearing the same way I have found all the weirdgirls endearing

My mom was horrified Gaspen was the first prosecutor and meanwhile I was cackling that this man fled to a different country and spent months garnering a glowing reputation only for the man who humiliated him to show up and do so AGAIN on his new turf

“What are you going to cross-examine the dog now??” “Maybe I will, don’t threaten me with a good time”

Also we love Klavier so we kept shittalking Peeslubn as an inferior musician

Across multiple cases again and again we’ll either verbatim say the next line Phoenix says or get into thinking about the mystery and end up getting right to the next thing that comes up and I think we’re becoming the Ace Attorney

Speaking of predicting the next thing that will happen in these games—

My mom (after asking about Gumshoe and being told he’s probably not there): Will Ema be in this game?

Me: I dunno (vaguely remembering seeing her rendered in 3D so assuming so but not wanting to say anything)

Ema: (literally shows up three seconds later)

For magical turnabout though um

Nobody told me about in the recording Trucy’s smile slipping for just a moment as she realizes what she’s looking at then “entertainers should always have a smile on their face” kicks in and you see it happen in real time

Also Apollo Perceiving on her for the first time and her starting to cry in front of her brother who she doesn’t know is her brother but Phoenix ended AJAA saying he’s the only one who knows how she really feels on the inside (terrible) and something about more of her family knowing her real pain and god dammit

Rite of Turnabout was frustrating but Maya was there so I forgive it for its sins

Turnabout Storyteller though?? How fun was that shit??? Simon shot up to my second favorite prosecutor and seeing Nahyuta flustered was very cathartic, I really do appreciate one-day trials sometimes for just getting it done

We’re just starting the last main case and I can’t wait for whatever’s gonna happen

[msdrpreist]

Mentions of death, stabbing also burning maze spoilers ig

You ever wonder why the mist memories were so strong in the lost hero? Like I know they explain it being bc hera did it but wouldn't it make more sense for it to be bc hera used pipers feelings for say leo and just pasted jason over top? If we followed that then we could have it so instead of leo with the whole being alone thing it could be Jason's story.

Like he's supposed to be Percy's counter, percy has the girl, the family and had the camp where jason has what? A camp that either used him as a weapon bc of his father or a camp that doesn't trust him bc he was swapped with their friend, his two best friends rekindle their love and still no family outside of a wolf and a sister whom he hardly sees.

And maybe bc of this jason rescues annabeth from falling into tartarus and as a result falls himself and has to go through it alone. Further cementing him as separated from the others as frank has hazel, leo has piper and ofc percy has annabeth.

He goes into tartarus not knowing his powers due to memory loss and comes out so in control that things that would should have made him pass out but instead he's doing without a second thought. He's powerful and it finally dawns on the other members of the 7 just how scary he can be. Annabeth stopped percy going over the line but who would stop jason?

Also kind of following this but not really but what if jason was the one to kill octavian. Like idk jason beats the every loving shit outta him and everyone leaves jason bc noone thinks he'll kill him and then all they hear is "born a roman, die a roman" before jason just stabs the dude. Maybe electrocutes the bugger while he's at it and it's as if the penny drops and the 6 realize that jason never came back the same.

What if jason was starting to become to unpredictable and apollo let him die in the burning maze. (Idk how this one would work out logistically but where there's a will there's a way)

What if when he dies he goes to the elysium but people are afraid of him. The son of Jupiter who survived tartarus all on his own, who slaughtered krios not once but twice as he would have had to do so in tartarus as krios was one of the titans defending the open doors, the son of Jupiter who looked octavian in the eye before murdering him...

Zöe keeps tabs on him in the elysium and tells nico to tell thalia and thalia simply can't believe that the sweet little two year old boy turned out the way he did and she can't help but be riddled with guilt for not sticking around more and help him adjust to the severe loneliness and loss of identity that he would have been experiencing.

Idk where all this come from lmao just exploring potential jason stories that I can cling to lmfao

Please feel free to add on any ideas about how jason as a character could have been handled:)

@perseusjackson-jasongrace any thoughts

[the-ghost-king]

Schizophrenic Nico, here's why I think it's possible:

I want to start off by saying these are just my thoughts, there is no one way to be schizophrenic or to have schizophrenia. It's also important to note that many of the schizophrenic symptoms overlap with other mental illnesses/nuerodivergences like ADHD, Autism, Depression, and OCD which I know many people who head canon Nico as having. I'm not arguing schizophrenic Nico is more correct, more canon, or more right, but to explain some thoughts on why I think it's possible/very likely he does so I can use this for future reference in various thing.

I am using the term schizophrenia as a catchall for all "types" of schizophrenia, but not for schizoaffective disorder which I would say Nico probably doesn't have.

Children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia. It may also be possible if your mother was sick while pregnant with you, or having a father who was significantly older when he had you.

A stressful life, especially trauma, are more likely to develop schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder. It likely has something to do with excessive dopamine production, but it may also have something to do with the same genes that control the sleep-wake cycle. Schizophrenia is more common with other mental illnesses or with other nuerodivergences or developmental delays.

Common symptoms include:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions

less interest in social activities

Now what does this mean for Nico, and why do I think it's likely he has Schizophrenia?

Let's start with Nico's childhood, "children born in the winter/those who were "sickly" as babies are more likely to develop schizophrenia". Although Rick proposed two birthdays for Nico, the fandom generally accepted the January date more fully. We also know that Nico is described as small when he was younger, smallness is common in children who grow up sickly, but it is also common in children who's mother was ill while pregnant with them. We obviously don't know if Nico was sick as a kid, or if Maria was sick while pregnant with him, but again being born in the winter makes these things more likely, as well as consideration for the time period Nico grew up in and the larger variety of illnesses going around at the time. (He is vaccinated against some things though).

Trauma and Nico... do I really have to go into super detail on this one? He spent his childhood growing up in a fascist country that was extremely racist/anti-Semitic/homophobic/etc, his mom died when he was a child- in front of him, his father intentionally gave him amnesia, his sister died when he was a child, he then proceeded to become homeless living/spending lots of time with Minos who verbally (and possibly physically) abused him, becoming aware of his past memories, becoming aware of the fact that many people hated him because of his father and because they thought he was joining the other side (therefore, he was "bad"), he fought in many battles as a child, fought monsters alone, was often faced with life or death situations, went to Tartarus alone (where the goddess of misery told him he was "perfect"), was trapped in a hostage situation with little/no air for a long time while people debated whether or not to save him, was outed against his will, was freed only to travel again fighting monsters and then win a battle, was eventually made to quest with Apollo despite still having lots of healing to do in ToN. So stressful life? Fuck yeah, that doesn't being to cover it.

Genetic factors, obviously nothing here is confirmed so I'm speculating a little bit again, but the common idea in regards to Hades children through the series is that they are "bad". Mental illnesses have been stigmatized for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and often mentally ill people were made out to be weird/bad/etc. It's more than possible there is some sort of genetic factor taking place, also "having a father who was significantly older when he had you". Although I doubt godly genes work the same as mortal ones (trust me I have lots of thoughts on how god genetics/DNA work, but that's not the point right now), I think Hades being the oldest out of all his brothers and having a reputation for having "questionable" children says something... We have no information on Maria's family history at all.

As for schizophrenia often occurring with other mental illnesses and/or neurodivergences: Nico canonically is implied to have either ADHD and/or Autism, and is canonically stated to have PTSD. I think most people would agree that saying Nico has or has had depression isn't a stretch in the slightest.

So canonically we can all agree Nico has severe trauma and coinciding mental health issues/neurodivergences, so out of 4 possible issues I’ve first presented we guaranteeably have two. If I wanted to stretch this a little I would give myself a half point for him being born in the winter and a half point for the aspect of Hades genetics but I won’t do that.

On top of that schizophrenia usually appears during teenage and young adult years in people who receive diagnosis; most people live with mental illness for a few months or a few years in some cases before they're able to receive a diagnosis. Nico being 15 (16 by the end of ToN/shortly following the end of ToN) is about the age that schizophrenia would start to make an appearance. It's also more likely to be found in men, with men also noticing the appearance of schizophrenia appearing early in their lives, and experiencing more negative symptoms in comparison to the higher commonality of affective symptoms in women. That's a really complicated explanation to basically say there's 3 more things that would make Nico having schizophrenia make more sense.

Alright, let’s go back to the list of symptoms I provided:

Hallucinations

Delusions

Disorganized thinking

lack of motivation

slow movement

change in sleep patterns

poor grooming or hygiene

changes in body language and emotions/behavior

less interest in social activities

Once again, some of these are not solely related to schizophrenia and can be the result of other mental health issues, I’m just going to go down the list and add in some moments from the books in which Nico shows some of these traits/behaviors.

Delusions/Hallucinations (more later)

Our best chances for understanding Nico's thought process is in Blood of Olympus where he has a P.O.V... Sometimes Nico's thoughts do derail, or sometimes they get a little confusing, but not always, and when talking to others he is consistent and aware of what he's saying, as well as blunt. Anything "off" about his thought patterns to me just seems like ADHD..

Dietary changes (whether or not you think he has an eating disorder) are behavioral changes (I personally think Nico has AFRID)

Within House of Hades Nico's poor sleep patterns are constantly referenced, and I'll give him a pass on poor hygiene because he's in the middle of a quest but still..

I have extremely complicated feelings on what Will says here, it's possible Nico is an extremely unreliable narrator (unlikely, it seems many people are bothered by him and only maybe a handful aren't), I've also thought at many points this was Rick trying to backtrack some stuff with Nico because he realized he'd made his story a little too harsh for a kids book, it could also be Will's trauma kicking in and that happening... I'm not counting it as full proof about Nico disliking social interactions, but Nico does try to leave even after this conversation and isn't convinced to stay until the last chapter, so maybe there's something to be said about people's dislike of him for being a Hades kid- but I think it's fair to say Nico also dislikes people at least some because he doesn't have interest in trying to befriend anyone either, and is quick to assume all people dislike him (paranoia/low self esteem/and some other possible stuff). There's lots of discussions to be had about this quote and other similar ones, and I don't think a broad brush approach of "Nico good everyone else bad" is accurate it's more, "Nico is good but he fails to try and you have to work on your own mental health everyone won just go to you, and also people dislike Nico for silly reasons and need to get over themselves and make an effort too". (I'm extremely oversimplifying my thoughts and feelings to keep it brief.)

More on delusions and hallucinations:

Now I want to state that lots of schizophrenia symptoms share a lot of commonalities with ADHD and with depression, so although I might include some moments you think are just ADHD/depression I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with you but they could also be schizophrenia or coexisting mental health issues/divergences. I also went through the DSM-5 for schizophrenia (the DSM-5 is just this big book with lists and it’s how doctors diagnose any mental health issue/divergence), I also looked through the DSM-IV (an older book from before DSM-5 which is no longer really used) and the differences between the diagnosis was fairly minimal but they quit categorizing types of schizophrenia and instead rely more on a couple of word descriptions that seem more in line with a spectrum rather than a checkable box.

In order to receive a schizophrenia diagnosis, two (or more) of the following, each present for a significant portion of time during a 1-month period (or less if successfully treated), and at least one of these symptoms must be (1), (2), or (3):

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech (frequent derailment or incoherence)

Grossly disorganized or catatonic behavior

Negative symptoms (i.e., diminished emotional expression or avolition).

It’s important to note that only one of these need to be checked off/true if the patient has voices which narrate their actions/behaviors/thoughts or if the person has more than one voice conversing with each other.

Nico deals with auditory hallucinations (2), he believes the voice belongs to Bob, his titan friend he left in Tartarus:

However this isn’t and immediate diagnosis because Bob’s voice doesn’t talk to another voice(s) in Nico’s head, and we don’t know if Nico has voices running commentary on his behaviors/thoughts.

The reason I state we are unaware if Nico has commentary isn’t because Nico hasn’t said anything, but because many people with schizophrenia before their diagnosis believe the narrative voices are just their thoughts and are a normal internal monologue- usually patients don’t realize anything is wrong until the voices start providing commentary on their actions so instead of “washing the dishes now” the voice(s) might say “wash the dishes now, you’re so lazy you can’t do anything, idiot” during a period of psychosis which may help them acknowledge that the voice(s) isn’t the way most people experience internal voice(s). It is very possible Nico is unaware he is experiencing narrative thoughts and simply assumes that his experience is something most people have, but I won’t use this to argue my point because it’s not confirmation of anything.

Returning now to Bob, Nico knows he is hearing Bob’s voice but he believes Bob is calling to him from Tartarus. Now, Nico says the voices are calling to him from Tartarus but there’s no confirmation of this anywhere… What I think is happening is Nico has a guilty conscience. He feels bad for “using” Bob to get out of Tartarus and various other things, so he feels bad that he is still down there. However, we don’t really know if Bob is calling to him or if Bob is able to do that- what I personally think is happening here is Nico’s brain is convincing Nico that Bob needs him because Nico is upset with himself for not helping Bob more, but also because Nico has never “sat still” before without a quest. Nico has also always felt the want to be needed/important...

It very well could be a delusion.

Schizophrenic patients often experience delusions which make them think they are destined for greatness, or that they have some divine/high force calling out to them for help that only they can provide. It’s an extremely common thing in individuals who experience delusions, and is in fact one of the most common delusions experienced. So although Bob could really be calling out to Nico, I don’t think he is, it doesn’t entirely make sense and there’s lots of little things which point to it being not entirely real- like the fact that nobody else knows about it? Or how absolutely sure Nico is that he need to return to Tartarus? It seems like a mixture of PTSD, delusions, and trauma response (returning to the trauma), working against him. I’ll say delusion is very likely (1).

Using these two factors alone there’s sufficient evidence for diagnosis, but let’s keep going just to see.

For disorganized speech (3) this isn’t something Nico seems to struggle with, and even if he did “derailing” could be ADHD or Autism, so I don’t think this symptom pertains to him.

Changes in behavior (4), seem to all be explainable via depression and/or PTSD- he has begun to express emotion again in Tower of Nero upon learning of Jason’s death he is said to be upset by Will and he walks off to be alone, seems like depression to me. Emotional/Behavior changes from schizophrenia tend to relate more to bipolar disorder rather than a depressive disorder, so I would say if Nico has schizophrenia he probably doesn’t have emotional or behavioral changes from it. If he did he might have some catatonic behavior, but this seems to be clearing up some in Tower of Nero so I’m not super sure on that, maybe during bad periods of psychosis behavioral changes occur, but I would lean more towards this isn’t a symptom Nico personally deals with. Negative symptoms (5) tie into this same idea, it’s possible it’s schizophrenia, but it’s more likely PTSD or depression at work.

So why do I care so much about the possibility of Nico being schizophrenic?

I feel like canonically/fanonically making Nico schizophrenic does a few things, firstly schizophrenic rep in media is extremely extremely awful- can you think off the top of your head of a schizophrenic character who isn't from a horror film/a murder/a villain in their own story? Maybe, but personally I can only think of one which is Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower- and even then? That's not canon, it's only implied- and it might not even be true

Schizophrenic media representation always paints schizophrenic people as bad, scary, and evil, and although the horror genre is extremely well known for being super ableist, transphobic, racist, homophobic, and misogynistic (just the final cherry on top) having one of the first- if not the first openly confirmed schizophrenic characters in children's media not only be someone who has lots of character development, and isn't a stereotype, but also be someone people have grown up with, cared for, and sympathized with- would be extremely monumental.

People with schizophrenia and other related disorders aren't something to be scared of or to think of as bad, and often times they're more bothered by whatever they're experiencing than you are.

I don't have schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder or anything like that, but I have various undiagnosed mental health issues which often lead to me questioning reality, or having to set aside time to convince myself that no there isn't a man living in my wall... Having a character have to question those things, work through those feelings, and learn to trust themselves and care for themselves even with those difficulties would be really great to see in media, not just for people with schizophrenia but also for people with similar/related disorders who might share symptoms see parts of their own struggles in a good, educative way.

I have to finish this in two parts because tumblr keeps breaking because there's too many words in my post lmao (2nd part here)

[aknosde]

Omnes Una Manet Nox

The chronologically first installment of my Reyna Swap AU, Alea Iacta Est // Reyna Avilla Ramírez-Arellano // Fluff & Angst, but minor on the angst // the night before Reyna disappears //  tw: mentions past minor character death // light swearing // 4.4k

ao3

—————

“That went well, didn’t it?” Jason asks with that familiar, absently intense energy. They’ve just descended the steps of the Senate after their monthly meeting with the consuls.

The two consuls, in their late thirties, oversee all of Camp Jupiter. Of course, the legion manages their own grounds and budget, under Jason and Reyna’s command, but the little oversight they do get is from the consuls.

Johnson was one of New Rome’s praetors, a few years back. He doesn’t care much about the legion, being from a legacy family and largely skirting his training and service, and he never ceases to make that known. Malhill is the one that always gets under Jason’s defenses. He’s good on policy, good on veterans, good on kids, everything that they could want. But he was the legion’s champion only ten years ago. A direct son of Apollo, a talented archer but an even better bender of light, a legion praetor, and he’s had his eyes on Jason’s career since day one. Reyna’s seen the way he eyes Jason whenever she and Jason are in New Rome, already pegging him for a consul position once Jason’s old enough.

“It went well, Jace,” she says. “Your mission plan is flawless, the only thing that could make them happier is if you’d go on it.” She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth.

Her remorse is tangible, visible in the line of his spine, the way he taps the place in his pocket where Ivlivs would sit if they were not inside the Pomerian Line, the subtle flick of his wrist.

Not for the first time, she thinks about Mount Othrys. Everything it took from her. Sometimes when she sleeps–not often, but enough–it plays over in her head. But something is always wrong.

She’s leading the charge, but suddenly it’s Jason next to her instead of Michelle. Or Jason and Michelle run into the throne room, but when she closes the door behind them it locks. She makes it into the throne room, slaying all of the Dracaena, but when she enters Atlas is holding Jason over his head, instead of fighting him hand to hand. On the good nights, Michelle isn’t dead when she bursts through the door, on the bad, she watches Michelle die. The one constant is Jason, gold ichor dripping down his face in a horrific mask. When she and Jason land the killing blow, together, she can always see it.

He doesn’t talk about it, of course. Not about Michelle, not about his election, not about the mountain. But she can see it weighing on him through the big things, like how he hasn’t been out of camp borders since the battle, and the small things, like how he glances up at the stars, as if one will come down and crush him any moment.

She rolls her right shoulder, feeling the ligaments shift, as if it will rid her of the thoughts, prepare her for a topic of conversation that often hits a little too close to home.

“Did you hear how Johnson pronounced my name? He’s even worse than you.” Maybe the small huff of a laugh Jason expels is worth it. “‘Miss Ramírez-Arellano,’” she continues, in a nasally imitation of the consul.

“I don’t say it that badly.”

“You say it like a white boy who didn’t know Spanish was a language until two seconds ago.”

“Ramírez-Arellano,” he says, better than consul Johnson, but she still hates hearing it. That girl is long gone, the only thing connecting her to Reyna is Hylla, and although Reyna loves her sister, she’s grateful for the distance that keeps Hylla from being a constant reminder.

“‘We were– were very, erm, dazzled, by your most recent proposition.’” She continues the impression until they are walking through the Praetorian Gate, Jason half hanging off her shoulder and giggling like they’re thirteen again.

He has a nice laugh. A friendly one. It seems to feed off of her volume, her effort, fluctuating the longer he goes. He shouts at her to stop several times, but he’s doubled over in armor, snorting, and all she wants to do is make him laugh like this forever.

It only gets worse on the steps of the Principa, when he decides a good revenge plan is to trip her. The building is dark like the rest of the legion. Two lamps, invisible under the light of day, flank the double doors, but the light is faint and barely makes its way to the stairs, washing everything in a pale yellow. She side steps his foot–his sneakers have reflective decals on them for the sake of the gods, he’s an idiot–but he’s shifted his weight so much that he ends up tripping himself.

They stumble through the doors, still chuckling, and make their way across the great hall as quickly as possible. They must have gotten a new tender for the Principa, because the lights are off like they forgot that people actually live here. Only two people, but still. The darkness makes the place unsettling, and now she’s counting on Jason to keep her occupied. A job he seems all too willing to fulfill as he runs through the next set of doors, still in full armor, clashing against the wood.

Upstairs is worse, she decides. The abandoned lounge reminds her of her childhood living room. Any moment her father could rise from one of the low couches, ready to scoop her up and throw her in her room, that crazed look in his eye.

Something clangs and she jumps.

“What the heck is this?” Jason’s whisper-shouting when she catches up with him in the hallway outside their rooms. He’s partially on the floor–hands keeping him from being face flat–and something is crinkling under his knee.

For some reason all Reyna can say is: “Did you just say ‘heck?’”

“Shut up,” he whines, and she wishes the lights were on just so she could see his ears turning red.

“Of course, farm-boy.”

He’s sitting back on his heels now, she can see the object’s dark outline as he holds it up, rustling in his hands.

“Seriously, what is this thing?” he asks, looking up at her.

“A bag with my old clothes,” she says, squinting. “I was going to see if any legionnaires need some.”

“And you have it by your door so you don’t forget,” he says, explaining for her. In the stress of running for office, of war, she forgot the ways in which they are attuned to each other. She forgot that she doesn’t have to explain and defend her every little action to him. It’s sad that it’s taken her almost two months to remember.

He sets the bag back down, nudging it into almost its exact spot, and hefts himself to his feet with a sigh. His brow furrows once he’s standing, looking out into the middle distance, but he sees the quirk of her brow and quickly explains himself, “We have that meeting with the centurions tomorrow after breakfast.”

Jason is a social person. A true extrovert. He hates being alone, working alone, and the quiet that comes with both. So what he’s really saying is that he has work left to do and wants some company. And who is she to deny him that? “Do you want to work in the main hall, office, or my room?”

He grins, clapping his hands and then raises his palms to the sky. “Bedroom, praise Fortuna.”

“Five minutes, Sparkplug,” she says, bumping her shoulder into his own as she sidesteps him into her room. His eyes follow her as she goes, like she’s his North Star, and damn him for making her heart skip a beat, because in the empty space Venus’ words always echo. She stomps them down, before her face can fall, before the hollow silence can fill the hallway, and in their place she jams a smirk. “If you’re lucky I’ll even edit your speech.”

As her door clicks behind her she can hear him groan, “I just prayed to Fortuna.”

She stands with her hands on her hips, briefly surveying her room to decide what to do first.

Being praetor has its perks, like private bath and bedrooms across the hall from her best friend and king sized beds, but it also means she is no longer in the practice of keeping her space ready for inspections. Her comforter is pulled up, but her bed isn’t made, files are scattered across her desk and on her dresser, and her wardrobe is wide open.

She decides on doing everything at once, which involves a crooked path across her room as she shucks off armor, not bothering with her armor stand, and changes out of the nice clothes she wore to meet the consuls. All the while she turns on lights, puts on sweats, makes her bed, and tucks away files.

Jason knocks on her door five minutes later, that ever punctual bastard, just as she’s zipping her hoodie over her tank top.

“Help me, Reyna,” he says, holding a typed copy of his speech out to her in both hands like some sort of trophy. “You’re my only hope.”

She snorts, snatching the pages out of his hands. “Nice reference.”

He cocks his head to the side, brow furrowed, and she bets if he were actually a wolf one of his ears would be turned as well.

“You just made a Star Wars reference,” she says, but he looks just as confused.

“What’s Star Wars?” He asks warily.

She swears to herself in Spanish, because otherwise he’ll tease her about the legion’s anti-swearing policies, collapsing dramatically back on her bed, and sighs. “It’s a movie trilogy, wolf boy.”

“Ah.”

Another thing she forgot, apparently, is how little Jason knows about basically anything outside of camp. He says he arrived when he was three, and wasn’t even allowed into the city until he was eight, which apparently means he’s never been to a movie theater.

By now he seems used to her telling him about the more innocent aspects of the mortal world, and at the very least takes his lack of knowledge in stride. If only he would watch the movies and shows she’s downloaded on his laptop for him.

When she looks up after reading his introduction he is sitting at her desk, picking at some invisible blemish while subtly putting highlighters away, and looking around her room.

“If you start cleaning I’m throwing you out.”

He grumbles to himself, but she makes out a yes ma’am somewhere in the mix, so she decides to throw him a bone.

“If you want to occupy yourself I have a speech about legion veterans you can fact check,” she says, faux casual, not that he can tell. He needs to do something before he starts picking at his nails instead of the wood.

“Sure.”

“It’s in one of the red folders.”

“Would that be the one on the floor under your desk or the one on your dresser,” he says, sounding far too cheeky.

“The one on my dresser, and stop pretending you’re better than me, asshole.”

He clutches his chest dramatically, walking to her dresser. “Better than the best? How could I be?”

“Mmmhmm,” she responds, half ignoring him in favor of his speech, aware of the ticking clock.

It’s truly impossible for him to stay awake past ten, a fact that is only proven the next time she looks up and he’s asleep at her desk, pen still in hand and a research paper opened on her laptop. No matter how often she reminds him that the regimented lights out of the legion no longer applies to them, he just can’t seem to break the habit.

“Jason.” She nudges his shoulder, extracting the pen at the same moment so he can’t smudge her speech.

His head jerks, eyes alert, but voice groggy when he says, “What’s going on?” All legionnaires wake up in a similar manner, but for some reason it only strikes her as amusing when he does it.

She hadn’t thought of what she was waking him up for, besides a need to do it, and her mind wanders to the Forum, wondering if her favorite café would still be open at this hour. She’s starving, she realizes. Their meeting with the consuls had been pushed back and they had had to skip dinner to make it.

She grins. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”

“Roof s’mores?”

“Reyna,” he drags out the last syllable, fading it into a sigh. “That takes energy.”

“Okay, but–” She holds her hands out, weighing them. “Would you rather spend the energy to just walk across the hall and go to sleep, or climb up to the roof with me and roast us a couple marshmallows?”

Jason looks at her like is that a real question? which had been her intention. She folds her hands into a pleading gesture and pouts emphatically–he’s always more flexible when she acts a little silly. “Please, Jace. I got that cheap chocolate you like. I’ll even get the stuff myself, you can go straight up.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes and she smiles, satisfied, and already on her way out the door.

The praetorian kitchen reminds her of office break rooms on television, besides the fact that it looks perpetually unnatural, mostly due to the fact that only three people go inside–her, Jason, and the Principa tender–and it’s always pristine. The only things actually kept in there are coffee, tea, and of course: her and Jason’s secret stash of s’more supplies, buried in the back of the cabinet with the untouched bowls.

By the time she’s through the roof access door, conveniently placed to hide it from the view of anyone on the ground, Jason is already sitting by the dark spot of ash that signifies their pastime. Because, yes, they started coming up here long before either of them were elected Praetor.

He’s a dark outline against the night sky, sitting criss-crossed and looking down at the façades of the other legion buildings, and briefly she has the thought that somebody could make a painting out of this. She slides her old Camp Jupiter ID back between the lock and door jamb, willing the thought to disappear with the potential of the fire alarm going off.

She shivers as she sits next to him, nose wrinkling with the cold now that she’s fully vulnerable to the elements. Without a word Jason removes his sweatshirt and passes it to her.

“I’m already wearing one.”

“Mine is thicker, trade me.”

And because he’s Jason, she does.

It’s slightly big on her, his shoulders just a few inches broader than her own, and a forest green. On the back is a printed vine of purple flowers and a date. She recognizes it as one of the prizes of the Ludi Florae, or Games of Flora, from Floralia last year. The festival sits right between April and May, and last year’s was the grandest of all. Or so Jason says. Everyone had been anxious about Mount Othrys, and apparently all of that energy had been funnelled into the events.

Reyna herself had been busy running for praetor. All she remembers from the festival is campaigning. And Jason, running up to her looking flushed, this sweatshirt thrown over one shoulder.

“Remember when I told you that you were the best, Jace,” she says sweetly once she is safely swaddled in his hoodie. He’s right–it is thicker.

Jason grins up at her, wrapping his hands around two marshmallows. “I may recall something along those lines having been said a long, long time ago.”

“Well, I just want to inform you that I retract that statement, because this sweatshirt is ugly and the cuffs are burnt.”

The electricity that had been slowly coursing over the ridges of his fingers flares for a second, and his hands fly open as if he was handed metal straight from the forges. “Oops.” Both of the marshmallows are burnt, but his lips are turned up in a poorly concealed smirk.

“I forget you’re a heathen,” she says primly, sticking her nose in the air instead of saying any of the less wholesome options at the back of her throat.

“Does liking burnt marshmallows make me a heathen?”

She pretends to mull it over for a second, extracting the rest of their supplies. “Yes. You have to buy the next bag because you’re mean and I say so.”

She takes the burnt marshmallow regardless, sandwiching it between her own chocolate and graham crackers. Jason takes three squares of the Hershey bar he likes for absolutely no good reason, and does the same. She shakes her head. He’s the fucking all American boy who sticks with the classics even when he doesn’t know they’re the classics. She has no idea how he does it.

They don’t talk while they eat, regrettably the silence reminding her of her childhood, no matter how hard she pushes against it. She looks up at the stars, trying to forget the cold kitchen, cold house, even in hundred degree heat. It’s times like this when the ring, and the chain she wears it on, weigh heavy on her neck.

It feels like a noose right now, just as much as it feels like freedom, like power, every other second of her life. Like a sentence, compelling her to pay for her crimes, to confess to them, to wreck her world so terribly that she would lose up from down and die. A fair punishment.

“What are you thinking about,” Jason asks a while after they’ve finished. She looks at him, sitting back on his hands, looking at her, not the sky. It’s dark on the roof, but the light from the street lamps seems to center around him. It glints off his hair, visibly blond even in the night, and pours into his eyes. They’re always so blue. So blue it looks fake. But they never cease to pull Reyna in. Sometimes she swears she can see lightning arc across his irises.

He’s always asking her questions like this. Innocent and curious, no ulterior motives, no goals. He genuinely wants to know. And if she doesn’t answer, he’ll drop it, because he always does. It’s not something she’s used to, even after all these years; this place she has in his mind, if not his heart. A place of utter respect. He doesn’t question her because he knows what she is thinking, and when he doesn’t, he accepts her. Would he still, if he knew what she did to her father?

She breaks his gaze with that thought. It’s too much. “My sister,” she says instead, and it doesn’t feel right to look back. Under oath, Reyna would say that Jason is the most important person in her life. Her best friend; the person she sees every day, talks to every day, eats with and works with. He is the closest thing she has to a family here. And she– And she loves him. Maybe as a little more than a friend. But talking about her sister while looking him in the eye feels too intimate, too intense. “She would like you.”

It is something to say, simply to say something, but maybe she isn’t wrong. There is something in Jason that reminds her of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, and not in the way that haunts her nightmares and twists her sheets around her until they become bonds she can’t quite break free of. Being on Blackbeard’s crew, that’s how Reyna learned hard work, in a way she never had before. It had instilled a drive in her, to change everything, to rewrite systems, to make something so beautiful it was unrecognizable. And perhaps Jason doesn’t have that same drive, but he knows the work. He goes out of his way to do it dirty and hard and long. He refuses to take the thousands of shortcuts he’s offered. And Hylla would admire that, she thinks.

“I had a sister,” he whispers.

For a second–just a second–she’s stuck. “What?”

“I had a sister.” He picks at a loose thread on his jeans for a moment, and that’s how she knows he’s serious, because he hates ripping his jeans more than almost anything else. He’s refusing to meet her gaze. “Thalia Grace.”

He says her name soft and tender. She can imagine him, standing over a hearth, cradling the name between his palms and looking at it the same way he first looked when he was gifted Ivlivs. Big, round eyes.

“That’s really nice, Jace,” she says, because he rarely surprises her, and for once she doesn’t know what to say.

He looks up at her, smiling tightly. His eyes are sad. Is that how she looks when she thinks about Hylla?

“You can tell me about her, if you want,” Reyna says when the moment becomes two, and then three, because Jason doesn’t bring up things he doesn’t want to talk about. But Jason also has his own ideas about debt, about worthiness, and it is clear to her that he told her about his sister in exchange for Reyna talking about her own.

He smiles at her. A real smile, if small. She feels warm, and it’s not from his extra thick sweatshirt.

“I don’t remember a lot about her, but… She had black hair. So dark, like the night. And her eyes, they were amazing. Bright blue, like a perfect sky. Sometimes I can see them, in this half-memory half-dream, and they’re so strong they look like how an electric shock feels.”

“Like yours,” she whispers, and Jason hums in a way that makes it frustratingly unclear if he heard her or not. She hopes not.

“When I was little,” he continues, after another moment of staring wistfully over the Twelfth Legion, “I used to imagine she was looking for me. That one day she would find me, here, be proud of me for– I don’t know what. Love me, or something. All that stupid shit.” He trails off again, picking at his nails, but she can’t bring herself to chide him.

There are things that she knows about Jason, true as the sun rising in the east and the pull of the moon on the tides and the sound of imperial gold on whetstone. She knows that he works hard, works with the public, flushes under the compliments of people older than him because he has never had a concrete parental figure. Not even one to hate, to fear, to mourn. She knows that he never trusts praise from these people because he knows his parentage, knows they know, knows that he is connected to his father in the eyes of these people in a way he doesn’t feel himself, and never will.

Truths of Jason that are pillars in her understanding of him, that were pivotal in their relationship. But like so many supports, they were never acknowledged. Truth has no need to be stated, and she has no compellence to state that which is unnecessary. He talks of Thalia, telling Reyna that he wants his sister to want him, to find him, and to love him not because he is a son of Jupiter, but because he’s him.

She doesn’t say, I don’t care about you because you’re the son of Jupiter, I care about you because you are my best friend. And she doesn’t say, I care about you because you listen to people, because you care about them and what happens to them so instinctively that I cannot understand it. She doesn’t say, I’m proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

She doesn’t say those things because he knows them, because they are truths, and truths do not need to be said.

But still, something must be done.

She– She’s always been bad at the physical things. She can do a handshake, a fist bump, but she has never been a hugger, no matter that Jason is. She’s never managed a hip-check, or a shoulder pat, or ruffled his hair in any way that wasn’t rough and meant to hurt.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t try.

She goes slow, leaning over slightly, feels the cool breeze breaking on her knuckles. Gently, perhaps more gently than she has done anything in her life, she takes his hands, detangles them, presses her finger pads against the bleeding bits where he’s torn his skin away. She closes her hands around his own, cups them in her palms.

He looks up at her, tears welled on his water line but nothing has spilled, and she feels his hands move in her own, feels him latch on, like when they were young and late for assignments, running across the grounds and refusing to leave each other behind. She looks into his eyes, wide. Electrifying. Just like she knew they were.

She waits for the moment to stretch and break, like moments oft do. Her last move is to give his hands a squeeze, hopefully reassuring, and he gives her another small smile and moves to wipe his eyes with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, the one he’s still wearing.

“We should probably be going to bed,” she says, because she doesn’t have anything else to say. He laughs, wetly, but in that way everybody laughs when they’re told something they already know. It makes her smile; it’s special when he does it.

Everybody isn’t wrong, she thinks as she and Jason part ways outside their rooms, Jason Grace is special. But not because he is the son of Jupiter. He’s special because Reyna had never wanted friends, and here he is, her best. He’s special because he does things, normal things, and they make her smile. He’s special because he does everything in his power to ensure he deserves the love he receives. And gods, she thinks, does he deserve it.

She slips off her necklace and gets under her duvet cover, curling up and fiddling with the cuffs of his sweatshirt. Chunks of the polyester-wool fabric are hard and melted from undoubtedly unfortunate rendezvous with electricity. She finds one, right where his thumb would rest, and rubs it between her own thumb and index finger as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, she’s on a school bus.

—————

Others in this series: Amicus Certus in re Incerta Cernitur

[sparklingchan]

Chapter 4|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 1.9k+

Warnings : Fight scenes, injuries but nothing too intense.

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: The day of the Capture the flag game arrives and there’s no denying that you and Felix make a wonderful team. Somewhere in the back of your head, you make a quiet note to have him by your side even when the real quests start.

A/N : Y’all I’m so bad at writing action scenes XDD I swear I’m trying to get better at it.

Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

Game mornings have always been your favorite.

Leaving out having to wake up early, you love everything else about game mornings; the little cheer song Apollo kids go about singing, the freshly cut fruits at breakfast which are otherwise a rare sight, camp students being all nice to each other which again is kind of rare, all the Satyrs moving here and there with banners and swords and arrows. The camp feels livelier than ever.

And to Felix, this sight is a complete different world. Almost like a pleasant dream.

Felix watches all the excited kids move around the camp, the jumping Satyr, the hearty breakfast and a new, foreign glow on your face as you sit across from him, explaining the game to him once again.

"Weren't you paying attention the first time?" You deadpan when he asks you to repeat, your front teeth nibbling against your lower lip in annoyance.

Felix smiles sheepishly and tilts his head with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say 'Not really.'

You end up explaining it to him again because who could ever say no to that smile.

"So Capture the flag game is played in different ways by different Camps all around the world. As for Camp Levanter, we have a special set of rules that are to be followed."

"We're divided into two groups, which are further divided into smaller sub groups. Each group only has one purpose - to capture the flag that has been hidden at the Athena temple on the hill behind our camp. We can use dummy weapons to stop our opponents from getting to the flag first but we're not allowed to fatally hurt anyone or use our powers. Whoever gets to the flag first, wins. Do you understand now?"

Felix nods with a tense smile.

"I'm nervous, y/n." He later goes on to admit as Minho and Eden declare the beginning of the games and call over the participants near the starting line. You glance at him and he is fidgety, like a middle schooler going to his first date. He wears a loose black t-shirt with a pair of extra baggy pants and his fingers play with the blonde strands of his hair.

When he catches your gaze, he smiles ever so sweetly.

You look away.

You feel the adrenaline course through your own veins as you gently pat his shoulder, "We're gonna win this. Trust me."

The other participants soon gather at the starting line, the competitiveness very much distinct in their sharp glances and quiet snickers, a contrast to how it were this morning. You'd never been one to be nervous before and today, you feel more confident than you've ever felt before. You wonder if the boy standing beside you, with his fingers tight around the sharp wooden sword, has something to do with this sudden confident outburst.

"Alright. Everyone, get ready!" Minho grabs everyone's attention with his loud voice, "And.....GO!"

Eden blows the Horn and you turn to look at Felix, sending him a wink,

"We're winning this, Lee."

*

A few seconds into the game and you realise that Felix and you make a bloody wonderful team. He's good with the sword while you're good with the arrows, he has sharp senses while you have sharp reflexes.

Your opponents attack you at the most random, unexpected moment but the both of you happen to defeat everyone of them and move closer to the temple, climbing through the thick mountain forest.

"You know, I didn't think we'd make such a great team. " Felix admits, panting and wincing as a tree branch brushes past a bruise on his arm, "You're not that bad, eh?"

You manage to giggle just before an arrow wheezes past you, missing you by a single inch.

Your heart as if stops beating for a second.

"Shit! I thought we were leading!" You hiss, falling on the ground.

Felix gets ready to defend your vulnerable position, his sword raising in alarm.

While on the ground, you quickly grab an arrow and position your bow in the direction from which the opponents' arrow flew.

You hear crunching of leaves and branches and quiet whispering.

"They're here." Felix mutters.

The footsteps get closer and closer and before you know it, Felix is tackled aggressively onto the ground. You turn around and shoot your arrow, almost blinded by the suddenness of the situation.

"Goddamn it, Han Jisung!" Felix groans as he wrestles for dominance over Jisung, who is laughing almost maniacally.

"Jisung, I swear to-" you are about to get up and run towards the wrestling duo, but an arrow falls onto the ground, just near your feet.

Its your arrow.

"I underestimated you, y/n. You seem to be a pretty good archer." Changbin appears from behind one of the trees, a visible bruise on his cheek from where the blunt, rubber arrowhead must have hit him.

"And I, you." You respond, grabbing another arrow and stretching the string of your bow, "We're going to win this, Changbin. You might as well get going before I bruise your pretty face again."

Your words come from nowhere but a place of playfulness and competition, but Changbin's eyes turn dark.

You quickly run over to cover Felix, who seems to have gained dominance over a very tired Jisung, all of Jisung's arrows having fallen out of the case and onto the ground.

"I could say the same for you." Changbin approaches you, a wooden knife in one hand and a spear in the other.

He attacks and you dodge, smooth like a cat.

"Felix! Go! Get the flag!" You yell and hope Felix realises that Jisung is too tired to keep up a good fight, "Quick! Go now!"

Felix jumps from a panting, sweaty Jisung and runs towards the temple on top of the hill, his footsteps momentarily slowing down as he turns around to look at you, as if for reassurance.

You nod, "Go."

Your eyes turn to Changbin, who has his head tilted with a smirk on his face.

"I have always been a better runner than Felix, you know."

He tries to run past you but you grab the back of his shirt and drag him back, almost slipping in the process. Reflexively, he grabs your hand and forces his shirt out of your fist while you struggle to keep your feet flat on the ground.

Changbin is strong, you realise, extremely strong so when you try to throw in a punch, he dodges it easily.

Your brain is running wild now; your only motive being distracting Changbin from running after Felix.

"He won't go easy on you just because you've grown up together, you know." You say, almost mockingly as he tries to get out of your tight grip. You wonder if his shirt collar might tear because of it.

He scoffs, not bothering to answer but instead reaches for his wooden knife. And in the blink of an eye, the knife slashes across your forehead.

"Oh, God!" You groan, clutching the burning area on your forehead. Your body once again falls onto the ground, your vision extremely blurry.

With barely an eye open, you see Changbin run up the hill but you're quick to move and grab his feet such that he trips and falls down. You drag him down further, while he struggles to climb up.

Your heart beat is in your throat, your vision almost zero and your entire body is as if on fire. You pray to the Gods that Felix comes down the hill with the flag because in this state, you could only hold onto Changbin for so long. And not to mention Jisung who's slowly getting up with loud groans and complains falling out of his mouth.

As if on que, you hear footsteps hurrying down from up the hill and soon an enthusiastic voice follows,

"Y/n! We won!"

You wish to run up and hug the man but in your state, all you can do is let go of Changbin's leg and let out a sigh of relief, followed by a giggle.

"Told you, didn't I?"

* You often find yourself thanking the makers of Camp Levanter for making the Zeus cabin as far away from the others as possible that afternoon. It gives a much needed sense of privacy and the luxury of being able to choose when to socialize.

"I hope it doesn't leave a scar behind." You mutter to yourself, tending to your wounds on the verandah of your cabin.

You dip a cotton ball in an anti septic lotion and gently dab over your forehead, wincing when it stings.

"Need help?" You hear a heavy voice from near the staircase of the cabin and your heart jumps a little at his sight, "If you don't mind."

You run your eyes over the various purple and red marks on Felix's body and you pat the space next to you on the floor for him to come sit on.

"Your friend is dangerous." You remark when he settles down, flashing him your forehead wound.

He shrugs guiltily, "He's just a little aggressive, that's all. He'll come around."

Felix shifts in his seat and takes the cotton ball from your hand, silently volunteering to clean your forehead wound.

The sting is still very prominent, but Felix's other hand rubs comforting circles on your cheek to ease the pain.

"Minho told me that you met mom." He mutters after a few seconds, his lips turned down into a frown. Almost as if the news upset him.

"Yeah, I did." You admit as he applies an ointment and then fixes a bandaid over your wound.

"Have you never met-"

"No, I haven't. I don't know what she looks like or sounds like. My father never told me and she never bothered to show herself." Is he angry that his mother met you and not him?

You purse your lips, the sudden rise in tension making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, hey. I am not angry at you in particular." Ah, Aphrodite kids can feel auras. "I just wished she'd come to meet me as well. I don't know why she doesn't. " he mutters.

"Well," you start, "If it makes you feel any better, she did tell me that she wants you to go with us for a quest. Says its important for you to go."

Felix's eyes glimmer with a sense of relief. "Really?"

"Yes, of course and I'm sure she'll meet you soon." You reassure him, though you yourself weren't sure what Aphrodite might do. She isn't the most motherly entity, according to Hyunjin and the other Aphrodite kids.

"Do you want me to go the quest?"

You are applying the ointment on the bruise on his cheek when he decides to drop that question, catching you off guard.

"Why would my approval matter?" You ask.

"It matters." He almost whispers, "To me."

Heat races to your face at his unexpected yet sweet words. You know you shouldn't feel like this, you shouldn't get flustered because of a boy you met only a couple of days ago but under his unsettlingly calm gaze, you find yourself melting. Bit by bit.

"Okay, enough talk." You shake out of the trance, "Go to your cabin and rest. We leave tomorrow night. I hope you paid attention while Minho was explaining the quest or do I need to repeat it?"

Felix giggles, shaking his head, "I paid attention."

He jogs down the small stairs of your cabin and waves you goodbye, making his way to his cabin.

"And Felix,"

"Yes?"

I want you to come with me to the quest.

"Don't forget to have Ambrosia before bed. It'll help your wounds heal faster."

Oh, silly,silly, y/n!

[cabinofimagines]

You’ve got some really bad habits

some can be interpreted platonically, and others are not up for debate. Lucky enough, I have more than enough bad habits to draw inspiration from (that’s not something to brag about, I know.) - day

warnings : nothing too serious. things that seem quite trivial ig, but bad habits nonetheless

requests : Could you do a fic where the seven and whoever like checks up on the readers? They take care of them and their unhealthy habits?? Thank you!

P e r c y

Biting your nails

The two of you were lounging on a picnic blanket on top of half-blood hill, watching as the sun set sooner than either of you would have liked. You laid back on Percy’s arm, one hand rested on top of his chest and feeling it fall and rise with every breath.

He made a noise suddenly and raised your hand to his face, examining it closely and sighing, “You’re still biting your nails down to the nub I see.” His lips rested against the middle finger, turning his head to connect eyes with yours, “You promised you’d try not to do that anymore.”

You looked away guiltily, pulling your hand away, “I tried, but it’s hard to break a habit like that.”

He chewed his lip in thought, “Hey, my mom had the same issue, and she had this nail polish that helped her stop.” He looked back to you with a small smile, “I’ll ask if I can borrow it next time I visit!”

A n n a b e t h

swearing

It wasn’t like it was a big deal, it certainly didn’t make her uncomfortable and she actually thought it was really funny. Annabeth always looked forward to hearing which combination you could come up with next and how it would fit the situation you used it in.

But when you visited Olympus on the occasion of returning one of the gods stolen pieces and came out with more than on swear, she felt like it should be discussed where you can use this language. She was laughing a little when she reprimanded you, so you didn’t know if she was serious or not but promised anyway to watch what you say and where you say it.

F r a n k

Being late

Poor Frank must be a ball of anxiety by now, you thought. You were running late to your first date with Frank and that was not something for you to be late to. There was no excuse to use to cover for yourself. Your time management has always been a big flaw of yours.

You swung open the door to the cafe to see Frank sitting there tracing the lines of the wooden table. Apologies left your lips before Frank even knew you were there, his face relaxing once he realized you hadn’t stood him up after all.  

He laughed and assured you that he was just glad you came at all but commented on your horrible time-keeping skills. You smiled at his light-hearted nature and promised you’d work on them just for him. The occasion became sort of an inside joke between the two of you afterwards.

H a z e l

Biting your lip

It was hurting both of you in entirely different ways. For you, it was peeling your lip, causing it to bleed and become more sensitive than it ought to be. For Hazel, it was tormenting to watch the plump flesh being pulled and bit between your teeth, only to be let go with a silent pop.

She stayed quiet about it for the most part, deciding that kissing you whenever you did so and when it was appropriate was enough to stop the habit. But you did it one too many times today, causing even the good-tempered Hazel to snap.

“Good grief, y/n” she sighed exasperatedly, “can you not go one minute without biting your lip?”

You stared wide-eyed at your girlfriend, entirely unused to her scolding. You couldn’t help but laugh and lick your lips to tease her further, “What else am I to do that keeps them preoccupied?”

J a s o n

Cracking knuckles

Jason hated the sound so much. Anytime you did it, he would make a face and express how much he disliked it. It was a point of teasing at first and he made it a point to show you how much he hated it by giving you a certain look that was manufactured just for the times you did that.

It was the breaking point for Jason when you did so in front of him when you were out with Leo to buy some Christmas presents. He gave a groan and spun to look at you with that look again, “Y/n please stop doing that! At least when I’m around.” His voice softened when he saw the embarrassed look on your face. 

Leo mumbled a “yikes” and turned into the first store he saw; a boutique.

You rubbed your arm uncomfortably and whispered a small, “I’m sorry” before walking into the shop behind Leo, leaving Jason to regret the way he handled the discomfort.

P i p e r

Not being able to say no

Okay, you’ll admit that you were crying, but you weren’t going to admit why. You were supposed to meet up with Piper to play Volleyball with her and a few others, but when you didn’t show up, she got worried. She didn’t even knock which is what took you off guard.

She watched as you hurriedly tried to wipe away the tears, but they just kept coming. Piper moved to sit beside you, turning your head so she could see your red eyes, “What’s wrong? You didn’t show to Volleyball, did something happen?”

You shook your head and forced a smile, “Just tired, Pipes. I’m sorry and I’ll make it up to you.”

Her head turned in thought, eyes searching your own for an actual answer. You were about to make a joke about your tears when she spoke up first in an accusatory tone, “You know you’re not obligated to say yes to everything, right? You’re stretching yourself too thin and it’s stressing you out!”

You gaped, stammering for words but finding none. She sighed at this and collected your hand in her own, kissing the back of it, “Let’s start by not rescheduling volleyball and letting you make time for yourself instead.”

L e o 

Waiting to do things last minute

You were hurriedly throwing your things together; you were being picked up from camp by your family soon; and by soon that means that they are actually waiting at the border for you at that moment. You were mentally cursing yourself for bringing so much with you to camp, but you weren’t expecting to stay just for the summer this year.

Leo sat in your desk chair, shaking his head at your procrastination, “Y’know you could’ve at least packed the things you don’t use--”

You shoved the rest of you clothes into your suitcase and threw yourself on top in order to shut it, “You know I work better under pressure!” With one suitcase down, you moved to grab another to fill it with the rest of your belongings, “Besides, I don’t have to bring everything back home!”

He sighed and rested his head in his palm, “Okay yeah but there’s working under pressure and then there’s stressing yourself out.” But it didn’t seem like you were listening to him, too busy running through the list of things to take in your head. He resigned to letting you be for now; he would work on your bad habit when you came back to him.

W i l l

Wearing hair ties on your wrist

You’d only just woken up, barely eaten anything that morning when Will was at your table. You glanced up, startled by his arrival, and turned to face him, “Can I help you?” But his eyes weren’t on your face, but on your wrist on which held many marks from the hair tie you kept there.

He pointed, “You know that’s not healthy.” seeing your confusion he continued, “Wearing that on your wrist can actually cut off blood circulation.”

You hummed and turned your wrist as you examined the black hair tie, “Well not to sound ungrateful for the information, but I think there are more life-threatening things in my life than a hair tie.” You gave a smile and turned back to your food without another word. You then watched Will wander out of the dining hall.

You didn’t talk to him for a few days after finding all of your hair ties cut in half after breakfast.

N i c o Staying up way too late

You had no clue when the sun had set. Ever since Apollo decided to set the sun around 4-5 every day, you always assumed it was much earlier than it was. So, when Nico swung the door open to the arts and crafts center, you couldn’t tell if his expression was due to his exhaustion or if he was completely over your bad habit.

“Do you have any clue what time it is?”

You were frozen, feeling like you were caught with your hand in the cookie jar, “uh it’s 3 pm somewhere!”

Nico sighed and leaned against the doorframe tiredly. Silence overtook the room, and you knew that he wasn’t going to leave until you did too. So, you capped the paints and put away all of the crafting tools you drug out for your project. You didn’t comment on the small smirk of victory on Nico’s pale face, you’d deal with that tomorrow.

.

.

.

all fics taglist : @beneaththeiceandsnow​

frank zhang taglist : @goldglitteryfoxtrot

[antiloreolympus]

5 Anti LO Asks

1. I just saw some post about body diversity in Lo and how it is grat and that they loving it, and it was just like 5 background characters that said only one sentence.

2. I feel like a lot of the couples are kinda not interesting no matter how much drama Smyth puts into them.

HXP gross, cheating, boss and employee, awkward for the work place, too many people are involved, and still isn’t grabbing it for me. Like I know other people root for them, but I don’t, it’s hard to root for a dumpster fire.

Hera and Zesus. The constant cheating was expected, and the bad communication, but Echo doesn’t spice it up or anything I would have been fine if Echo was a friend that shit talked Zeus with Hera (I know that’s not the story but still does Rachel care about accuracy? No) even though Zeus cheats we do get to see him actually care, BUT Idk Hera doesn’t draw me in, like they both suck, but Zeus is a bit more complex for me (with the bad husband, the cheating but still caring for Hera and being jealous)

Eros and Pysch. The beginning was interesting even knowing the myth, it was getting just a little stale and then bam he finds out on accident and I lost interest. Like they talked too much about HXP too much to feel like their own thing later on and now that he didn’t complete the test right like what now. Is Aphrodite gonna get in trouble or are we gonna forget? Idk they lost their spark for me.

Minthe and Hades. Toxic relationship that needed more time to expand explanation. Like yeah we know they are/were together but like that backstory wasn’t much. Sorry #minthedeservesmorescreentime.

Daphne abs Thanos are interesting and I can actually see why both like each other, where they started and I wanna know what’s gonna happen next for them. Like they have the life and death balance that HXP wishes even. And even tho Daphne isn’t a god, she told Apollo she was gonna ruin him, she bit him, she was awesome! And it was believable too since she’s an athletic influencer. Thanos has an interesting plot line that will probably be a problem for them later but I’m excited. Like both characters affect the plot outside of their relationship AND are interesting

Aphrodite and Ares feels like RS dropped the ball with them. Why is Ares flirting with Persephone? Sure they’re open but like idk Persephone doesn’t seem like a good fit for him at all. They were set up interestingly since we knew Aphrodite was looking for him, but that one little hug scene did no justice for either character. Like we hardly see them interact positively towards each other.

Crack ship Minthe and Hecate would have loved to see! My crack fic before I think a lot of season two was out was After Minthr parties Thetis and leaves her, she doesn’t snitch on Persephone and just tells Thetis to back off, returns to work all humbled out and Hecate and her work together on just personal shit and work stuff. Minthe asks Hecate stuff on how to get over Hades and how to be better and that’s when we learn Hecate always loved Minthe’s chaos. But yeah that didn’t happen. When I saw some crack headcanon s about those two I was like “didn’t know I needed this till now”. (I was hoping Minthe was gonna be like Petra from Jane the Virgin, starts out bad, doesn’t like the main character for most of the time but still gets a happy ending)

3. i like how LO fanss defend it like "well its no more problematic than the myth its based off of!" which like sure, thats an argument to make, but idk, the original myth didnt have persephone be nearly underage with no experience so hades can take advantage of it, demonizing several mother figures for the sake of a guy, a huge class divide thats frames the rich and powerful as the oppressed to the poor, and you know, ACTUAL SLAVERY. like cmon, it's honestly worse than the OG myth in most ways.

4. youd think if hades is self aware enough to know he was the wrong party to get into a relationship with minthe in the first place, that he'd at least be a little concerned over minthe being stuck as a plant, especially when persephone almost dropped her which would have killed her. the two of them just left her alone in a dark, empty room while they went to dance and goof off, not a care in the world. he seems more relived she's out of his hair now for him to hook up w/ his intern. its so gross.

5. I hope Demeter is pissed at her daughter for just like EVERYTHING. Taking a step back, Persephone is having a grand ol time at Hades’ place for god knows how long while her mother is worried about their situation and then gets kidnapped and Persephone makes 0 effort to try and get in contact with her or anything (hey hectare you saw my mom laying low as a bird, but any chance can you try and find her again and maybe we can arrange something since the literal god of gods is out for our blood so maybe let’s get the story straight)

Demeter going against her own comfort and parenting beliefs to left Persephone like with Artemis. It’s not Persphones fault that Apollo happened, BUT Demeter probably let Persephone live there after the murders to settle some stuff out and then 1 month of living there or so Persephone runs away to live in a motel and then has a power control issue. Let’s pretend the power control issue didn’t happen yet, what the hell was she gonna tell her mother? “Hey mom Artemis’ brother makes me uncomfortable so you can find me at this motel IN THE UNDERWORLD NEAR HADES YEAH THE GUY I FIND PLEASANT LOOKING” I know Demeter is suppose to look like an over the top mom, but yeah how was that suppose to go down? If she found out her daughter was staying with hades?

Getting an internship with Hades/underworld and not telling her mom. Idk if Hera made it a secret, but again Demeter would probably want to know that stuff being strict as she is, she probably would want Persephone to excel at a job BUT maybe not with Hades idk I forget, again it just shows there no trust between either mother nor daughter. Hera also sucks for testing her friends daughter with out actually having the intention to help perpshone and test if Hades is actually okay.

After everything Demeters gonna be like “this is why I wanted you to commute, I wouldn’t have been shoved in a bird cage if you you just have just commuted to school.”

Like I know persphone has to go out and make her own mistakes, but a lot of it boils down to Persphone was a brat. She demanded she leaves and then later killed some people got her way and then went behind her back and didn’t even want to stay in Olympus. Demeter isn’t blameless in this situation but Persephone is a murderer, glorified side chick, and I just feel that all of Demeter’s worse nightmares about her daughter leaving all happened and worse