#and until percy comes back they hold the fort down together

[ladynicte]

Concept, that during the months where Percy went missing, and the whole Camp was searching for him 24/7, Nico just sorta developed this habit of waiting around Percy's door.

Nico is not really used to spending time in Camp, he doesn't really spend time at Camp at all, and sure, he could go with Dyonisus, or Hestia, but he doesn't wanna bother.

Nico knows, they can tell Percy's dissapearing has really started to affect him.

And sure, he's got his own Cabin now, and he used to be so excited about that, but he's found out, he doesn't really like spending time there, to spend time alone with ghosts and bones, he could just go back home.

But still, Nico doesn't want to leave.

Because, what if they manage to find Percy, or he contacts them somehow, or some other threath comes near Camp, and maybe, just maybe, Nico still has this little hope, that the next morning the doors to the Poseidon Cabin will just suddenly open up on their own, and Percy will come out of them, yawning, with his hair all messy, asking for breakfast.

He knows that doesn't happen, and will never happen, but sometimes, Nico allows himself to dream.

And, Nico knows he could actually just enter the Cabin, it wouldn't even be trespassing, not really, either way, it was Percy who first asked him to stay there with him, who first begged him to stay there, before dissapearing.

But, Nico had said no back then.

And, regardless of whether Percy is there or not, it doesn't really matter, his essence of sea salt is everywhere.

Everything on his Cabin is so quintessentially him, and Nico knows, he knows he could never get too close, he could never allow himself that much indulgence, because otherwise, his bones and blood might just boil, and there will be no more coming back from there.

Nico knows he could get lost on Percy Jackson, and if he does, there will be nothing left to salvage of him, afterwards.

So Nico must tread lightly, stand right in front of the ocean, without ever walking in.

Which, to him, translates into appearing from one of his long travels to Camp Jupiter, jumping out of a shadow, and just sitting down, right in front of Percy's Cabin door.

Nico only allows his back to hit against it, he sleeps with his head between his hands, on top of the blue marble, and that's it.

That's as close to Percy as Nico will ever allow himself to get.

And on the other hand, there's Annabeth.

Annabeth, who's dying of worry, who's hair is greying once more because of it, who feels like everything in the world is her responsibility, and Annabeth, who for the love of all The Gods, just cannot find her boyfriend.

She doesn't let other people see her like this, (Or, she tries to not let other people see her like that, at the very least.) But still, she misses Percy.

Is not just the prophecy, or the end of the world, is not just that the Camp needs both their leaders, and is not just that it's a necessity.

Is that she loves Percy and she can't see him.

So, when she's sure everybody else is supposed to be asleep, and she's breaking the rules once more, just for him, she sneaks out of her Cabin, like any self-respecting Athenea Cabin Leader, shouldn't do, and she runs to the Poseidon Cabin.

And at first, she's not sure if it's the Mist, or it's the darkness, or if she's way too tired, and way too overworked, and her eyes are starting to deceive her, but she's sure she sees it.

A little dark shadow, cuddling to the door, like a puppy begging to be let inside, in the middle of a storm.

Against her own instincts, she decides the best tactic is to approach it gently, later on, she's thankful once more to her mother.

Because, Annabeth doesn't know what Nico di Angelo would have done to her, if she suddenly ambushed him while he was dead asleep.

They decide not to talk about it, Annabeth notices the trees and grass around them starting to die, she wonders if Nico can kill even the plants buried deep under the sea.

She doesn't ask.

Instead, they both sit in silence together.

This is probably the most accompanied Annabeth has felt in ages, which is really odd, because sure she knows Nico isn't a bad person, but he still scares her, like the night, and the spiders, back when she was little.

Nico understands neither of them wants to leave, but he would, if only he wasn't so damn tired all the time, he knows he shouldn't shadowtravel so much, but if his body, and his health, are the toll for finding Percy, then so be it.

This pattern repeats every night ever since.

Nico sleeps on the entrance to Percy's door, but never goes in, Annabeth always finds him, but she never speaks.

Eventually, Annabeth starts noticing the way Nico's bones pop, barely visible underneath his dark shirt, or the way his eyebags seem heavier and darker, like a growing bruise on his face every night, the way his veins show through his pale skin, and the way he never eats, well, anything at all, really.

And just the same, Nico notices her grey hairs, the chunks of it that just randomly fall off due to stress, her dirty clothes, the way she can go almost a week straight without remembering to shower, or brush her teeth, the bruises on her body, thanks to all the excersice she's forcing her body to stand, the eyebags that only grow, and grow.

They both know they need to actually sleep at some point.

And sleep for real, not just pass out from exhaustion on Percy's floor from time to time.

Nico has never been the sort to blink first though, so Annabeth understands, negotiations here, are gonna have to fall onto her.

She tells Nico that they need to sleep, like actually quality sleep.

Nico only nods, he doesn't look like he's paying attention to her, but Annabeth's brain has already come up with the most pragmatic, and powerful strategy, to achieve what she wants right now.

Annabeth stands up, and goes back to her Cabin, not without first warning Nico that she will be back in five minutes.

Nico doesn't look like he believes her. Annabeth understands he has got no reason to believe her, it makes the strategy all the more important.

But first, not without terrorizing herself with what she's planning to do.

She sneaks back into her bed, and quietly opens the tiny backpack, that her dad helped her put together, back in their house, before she arrived back home.

She grabs her precious little bag, she opens it, and she sighs.

Annabeth shuts her eyes, and forces herself, to carry her own plan to fruition.

She comes back to Nico, with Percy's shirt, well-carried, on her hands, well, one of his shirts, his preferred Camp Half-Blood shirt.

Percy had given it to Annabeth, before she left to go live with her dad, as a sorta remember-me-by, and Annabeth had never taken it out of its package, for anything at all.

She took it everywhere with her, like a sacred symbol, of some sort of home.

And Annabeth couldn't lie, and say she wasn't scared, mostly, because Nico's stare scared her a little, she thought, if anybody would be able to call her bluff, it wouldn't be Percy, it would be Nico.

(Annabeth was also sure, Nico had a completely clear sight from birth, but that was neither here nor there.)

Her fear wasn't of Nico, though, her fear was on holding the shirt, and not being able to let go.

Of holding onto it, and ruining it, with her strong warrior hands, and her desperation, that ran organs-deep, because she knew the logical outcome here, once she grabbed it, it would eventually stop smelling like Percy, and she would hate it, and then, the illogical outcome she feared so much, that if she lost this one shirt, she would lose all connection to Percy.

And that, would kill her.

And then, it would be like she had never even met him, gone with the wind, lost at sea, like a dream, she would be left with no way to prove, she once knew a boy named Percy who saved the world.

Who loved her just as she loved him.

After that, what would Annabeth even do with herself, anymore.

That all is completely irrational, Illogical, and impossible, Annabeth understands that too, so she forces her legs to keep on moving.

She stops before Nico, and presents the shirt to him, and it isn't lost on Annabeth, the way Nico almost backs off in surprise, and the way his lips open, just ever so slightly, and the way his one visible eye gets wide, and the way Nico's cheeks get this sorta, cutesy rosey, tint to them.

And she's sure she understands, but she cannot make herself deal with that right now.

She tells him "Let's find neutral territory for the moment." She's not sure if she knows what the moment even is.

But still, Annabeth grabs his hand, and against all odds, she's surprised, as Nico allows her to, and she has to force herself not to shiver, because Nico is cold as a corpse, and Annabeth knows way too well, just how quickly corpses get cold.

Nico knows it far far better.

Nico notices. He already knows. He always does.

He doesn't judge her for it, he hates himself too much for it.

Annabeth stops them on a grass patch, some pond nymphs near by, and she can see the nymphs snarling at Nico, and for some reason, she feels so angry all of a sudden, because Annabeth knows, it's not like Nico has ever actually done anything to them.

Annabeth is suddenly reminded of her first big fight with Hera, of screaming at her face, that Nico did belong, back then, it felt so instinctively true.

Now, Annabeth could see the way the Camp died away at his presence, the way the rest of the kids never approached him, unless they needed Nico's help for something.

And yet, Nico did always help them.

Before Annabeth can catch herself, she's already running towards the nymphs, her fists raised, and she knows there was a time where not every single little thing, disturbed her like this, but Nico just grabs her arm, and this time, Annabeth can't hold back the shivers because he's so so cold, and so strong.

Nico quietly tells her, for all to hear "They are just scared, it's fine."

Annabeth knows she can't blame them, because she's scared too, and Nico knows it.

Annabeth slaps her head, forcing herself to back down, she makes herself keep glaring at the pond, but her angry stare just doesn't hold, as she slowly, but surely, forces the shirt done her frame.

Annabeth wants so badly to hold onto it and make it eternal.

The shirt is old, it's only a little oversized on her, it smells exactly like Percy, exactly like the sea.

She's a strong girl, Annabeth doesn't cry, but if she does cry, Nico isn't gonna tell on her with anybody, either way.

After a while, where nobody says anything, where Nico only stares at her:

Annabeth lays quietly on the grass, her eyes wide open, on the moon, and she spreads her arms wide, she can hold them open for an eternity, if that's what it takes until Nico accepts it.

It does feel like an eternity, a little bit like holding the weight of the world in her shoulders, before Nico, looking like a mysterious shadow, slips into her arms.

They don't talk about it, but they can hear their hearts beating way too fast, and way too loud.

Nico has his arms tightly wrapped around her waist, and Annabeth has got to remind herself, that he's holding onto Percy's shirt, not onto her, there's a part of her, that's curious to see, to try to test Nico's limits, to toss the shirt at a fire, and watch Nico chase after it.

But she loves this damn shirt far too much to ever do something like that.

Slowly, Annabeth lowers her own arms, and she's holding onto Nico's hair now, his head heavy between her hands, and Nico is holding onto Percy, which leaves Annabeth wondering, what exactly is her excuse then, in their situation.

At some point, her eyes close, and she doesn't even notice it.

It's the first night of true sleep Nico has gotten in a really long time, for once, not searching for Percy even in his dreams.

The next morning he has breakfast, that he doesn't really eat, but he stays, and it occurs to Annabeth, that Nico staying anywhere, was everything Percy had ever wanted.

She would have to brag about it to him, once Percy got back.

Percy and Nico never admit it out loud.

They understand they are doing something odd.

But Annabeth keeps wearing the shirt, and Nico keeps falling asleep by her side, and there's no excuse to it, anymore, they both can tell the shirt has long since, stopped smelling like Percy and sea salt, and started smelling like shampoo, and Nico's rotten corpse, and pomegranates essence.

Somehow, Annabeth finds, she doesn't hate it that bad.

Nico despises it, but he can't let go of one of the very few soft things he's ever known.

And that's fine, because Annabeth keeps laying with her arms open without asking any questions, and Nico keeps falling asleep, while holding onto her waist, without offering any explanations.

They both know it will never be the same, not ever what they are actually craving, and searching for, because this whole situation has only made them hunt for Percy even harder.

But they can still keep each other company, until they manage to find Percy, somehow, that is.

Annabeth is surprised to find that now, instead of dying, the grass underneath Nico grows mushrooms.

Nico is too.

[annabethy]

Um, How about... Percy comes home from a tired day at work and Annabeth is there to cheer him up....

in which Percy’s crying, and Annabeth always knows how to help,, percabeth

Percy’s always felt as though he wasn’t cut out for a job. He tries hard enough, but he struggles to handle the dedication that comes with it, and the constant remarks from his superior. Usually he is able to brush it off with a smile, but today is not one of those days.

It starts early in the morning when he’s stuck in traffic and only builds from there. He gets yelled at immediately upon walking into his work building. Everything that can go wrong does go wrong – he blames Murphy’s law ­— and by the time an hour past the end of his shift rolls around and he’s ready to leave, he is on the verge of tears.

The ride home is uneventful. Percy doesn’t even put on any music, preferring to sit in silence and get his emotions under control because he is well aware of who is waiting for him at home with a smile on their face, and he doesn’t have it in him to ruin it just because he’s had a bad day. He throws on as much of a smile as he is able to muster, but he doesn’t even look in the mirror because he knows that his eyes betray it all. Still, he is able to hold the tears from falling down.

All hopes of maintaining his composure go flying out the window the second he unlocks the front door and sees Annabeth sitting in the middle of the living room, surrounded by blankets and pillows she’s pulled from their bedroom.

Percy doesn’t intend on bursting into tears when he sees her, but something inside of him breaks. It’s a reaction he couldn’t hold back. Maybe it’s because he knows he can’t hide it from her no matter how hard he tries, or maybe it’s because he trusts her enough to not hide how he’s feeling. He doesn’t have time to contemplate it anyways because Annabeth’s wide grin quickly falls into a look of concern, and his heart shatters into two knowing the stress he’s causing her.

“Are you okay?”

Percy turns around to shut and lock the door, wiping at his eyes once before turning around. “I’m okay,” he manages to say, but the way his voice wavers gives him away.

She struggles to stand up off of the ground, but her legs are tangled in blankets and her center of gravity is already off as it is, so he moves to her instead. Annabeth’s hand reaches for his and tugs. He reads her wordless request and settles down onto the floor.

“You’re crying,” she notes, low and alarmed.

Her thumb flicks away the tears as they fall one by one. It brings him a semblance of comfort, but it also makes him feel guilty. She’s been home alone all day waiting for him to get off of work, and now that he’s finally home, he’s crying over something he can’t even put into words. She shouldn’t have to worry about him when she has enough to worry about as it is.

“I’m okay,” he repeats, whispered. “It was just a really long day.”

“What happened?” He tries to smile through the tears, sniffling slightly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, kissing her knuckles softly. “Tell me about you. How are my two favorite girls?”

Annabeth frowns but crawls towards him slightly. She pushes his shoulders back so that he falls against the front end of the couch before she gets on his lap, facing him, and settles her arms around him in a hug. Her face rests against the crook of his neck, and he tightens his grip on her.

“Your two favorite girls want to know why you’re sad.”

Percy chokes out a laugh, but the tears just fall harder. It’s a bit humorous that he was able to hold himself together until the moment that he saw her when the whole point was to do the exact opposite. “I don’t know,” he tells her. “Just a bad day at work.”

Annabeth pulls back to pout, and Percy caresses her round stomach, stifling a genuine smile when he feels the kick back against his palm. “Tell me about it?”

Percy would, but he knows he can’t. The second he starts to speak about it, he just knows it’ll get to the point that he can’t breathe. He doesn’t want to put her in a position like that, even if he knows she won’t mind. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he says to her.

“I want to help,” she says softly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek where another tear falls. “Please?”

“You’re helping just by being here.” Percy kisses her properly. “You’re all I need.”

Annabeth hums in disagreement and reaches out for something out of his vision. He doesn’t turn his head, knowing she’ll show it to him soon enough. She ends up leaving his lap for a second, forcing Percy to let go of her reluctantly, but she’s back a second later with something in hand that makes him roll his glossy eyes fondly.

Annabeth waves the stuffed animal around in her hand. “It’s an octopus!”

“I can see that,” he says, accepting the gift she shoves into his hand.

She forces her way back onto his lap, twisting slightly onto her side so that she can lay on top of him without her stomach being squished between the two of them. The toy is snatched from his hands and pushed inside out, changing the previously blue octopus with a smiley face into a red frowny-faced octopus.

“Sad Percy gets the sad octopus,” she says, waving it in his face. She makes the octopus kiss him on the nose before giving it back to him. When he doesn’t move, she nudges him gently. “Play with the octopus, Percy. You’ll feel better”

Percy turns it around so he can pretend it kisses her back on the nose before setting it down on the floor and tugging her in closer. “I love you,” he whispers into the top of her head.

“I love you more,” she says, deciding to pepper kisses anywhere on his face and neck that he can reach. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s alright.” His words come out muffled against her head. He lifts his head to smile at her, but the smile still isn’t reaching his eyes. He’s absolutely exhausted from the tears alone. His hands caress up and down her back. “I just need to go to sleep for a bit, I think.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while, instead staring at him while he does his best to look anywhere except at her. He looks around the living room as her eyes burn holes into him, and his attention is brought back to the mess of blankets and pillows.

“I like what you did to the place,” he says lightly.

“I thought we could make forts when you got home.”

The statement makes his heart stop as he looks back at her. Her eyes look sad and concerned, and another wave of guilt washes over him. “Let’s make a fort then.”

She shakes her head no.

“You had this planned already,” he says. “I’d feel bad if we didn’t.”

“We can make forts tomorrow,” she tells him earnestly. She nuzzles his neck with her nose. “Let’s just go to bed and snuggle until you feel better instead.”

He’s about to give in, but then he decides against it. He’s happy as long as Annabeth’s happy, and if she wants to build a fort, he thinks he can put up with it just this once. He kisses her once and says, “Let’s make a fort, and then we can watch movies and cuddle in it all night, okay?”

And so they do.

It doesn’t take long for Percy to be glad that he made this decision. Just seeing her smile and do her excited waddle as she goes to grab a stretchy blanket puts him in a happy mood. Percy highly suggests marrying your best friend because this… It’s otherworldly. Marrying his best friend means he gets to go home in the worst possible mood and have the entire day switch around at the sound of her laugh, and the soft brush of her fingers against his.

Later when they’re both beneath the precariously built fort, Percy doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy. Tears begin to well in his eyes again, but this time, they’re of love and joy. They’re on top of piles of pillows, both snuggled up to fit under one blanket, he can hardly remember what had upset him in the first place. Annabeth’s head is on top of his arm, out like a light, and Percy can’t resist kissing her softly on the lips. Her lips twitch up into a subtle smile, but she continues sleeping against him.

She’s able to make him feel better with nothing more than a single touch, and he knows that he has it lucky. In only a few months, something that is much closer than it feels, they’re going to have a baby, and he just knows that she’s going to be so loving and perfect.

“You’re going to be the world’s best mommy,” he whispers, though he knows she won’t hear it. He doesn’t mind though, because he’ll tell her again tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that. He loves her more than life itself, especially on days when life seems out to get him because she makes it so that everything is okay.

When he falls asleep himself, it’s with a smile on his face, and his heart bursting with love.

[bbyannabeth]

a little misunderstanding can hurt a lot

uh this was sitting in my drafts even tho i posted it to ao3 already? okay... anyways here u go

read on ao3

the turnaround had happened so quickly. one second, annabeth was elated, sitting in his bed as he went to make them hot chocolate, thinking about how percy was so impossibly caring and loving, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. and the next second, she had felt a tiny, sharp stab on her calf. she reached down under the sheets until her fingers found the small piece of metal. she picked it up, holding it in her palm to inspect it, and her stomach dropped.

it was an earring. a little stud with a light pink gem. she stared at it, unable to stop her anxiety from rising.

annabeth didn’t wear earrings. her ears weren’t even pierced. so why was there one in the sheets of his bed?

she racked her brain, trying to think of any possible conclusions. everyone who knew percy said he was the most loyal person they knew, so him cheating didn’t seem possible. but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t think of any other reason to find someone else’s earring in his bed.

footsteps approached the room and annabeth’s hand closed around the earring, as she steeled her nerves. percy pushed the door open with his foot, carrying two mugs. there must’ve been something easily readable in her expression because his eyebrows furrowed as he set the mugs down on his nightstand. “what’s up?”

annabeth opened her hand, revealing the pink stud on her palm. “this was in your bed,” she said, careful to keep her voice level. percy stared at it for a second, blinking. annabeth braced herself for whatever excuse was about to come.

“oh!” he exclaimed, taking it from her hand. “that’s where that was, she’s been looking for this!”

annabeth swallowed, dropping her hand into her lap. “she?”

he smiled, seemingly unaware of her unsettled anxiety. “the other night, estelle and i had a movie night and a sleepover with a whole fort and everything. yesterday morning, mom realized she only had one earring in.”

estelle, annabeth thought. his seven year old sister. of course.

“oh,” she said, nodding slowly.

percy, still oblivious to her mood, closed his fist around the earring. “is the back somewhere in there too?”

annabeth blinked. “i don’t know, i didn’t really look,” she said quietly, moving back and lifting the sheets. it took a minute of them searching, but sure enough, the little silver backing was there too.

“let me go give this to mom real quick,” he said, leaving the room. annabeth covered her hands with her face, exhaling. how had she not thought of his sister? when she heard him returning, she quickly dropped her hands.

percy re-entered his room, shutting his door behind him and crawling into his bed. he grabbed the two mugs from before, handing her one. “m’lady,” he said.

“thank you,” she whispered, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic. percy finally realized something was wrong as he heard her voice. his eyes flickered over her face.

“you okay?” he asked. annabeth shrugged. percy quickly set his mug back down and wrapped an arm around her waist. “what’s wrong?”

oh nothing, she thought. i just briefly thought you were cheating on me, only for me to be a complete idiot in the end.

annabeth bit her lip, handing her hot chocolate back to him for it to be set back down. once both of their hands were free, he held her closer and annabeth melted into him, ashamed to ever even think he would do something like cheat.

“you remember how i told you luke cheated on me?” she whispered. percy nodded, unfazed by the mention of her ex boyfriend. annabeth took a small breath. “well, i found out by finding another girl’s underwear in his bed.”

her gaze dropped to her hands, not wanting to look him in the eye. “and it’s stupid but when i found that earring… my mind assumed the worst and…” she shrugged halfheartedly, unable to finish the sentence.

“oh, beth,” he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her head. “i’m sorry.”

annabeth looked up at him. “you don’t have to apologize, you did nothing wrong,” she said quickly.

“i know,” he said, lifting a hand to tuck hair behind her ear. “but still. i’m sorry you ever had to go through that. you didn’t deserve that.”

tucking her head back into the crook of his neck, annabeth nodded slightly. “i’m sorry i even assumed that, though. i know you would never. my mind still just... went there, though.”

“no, baby, it’s okay. i understand why you assumed the worse after what happened to you, it makes sense. i’m not upset with you for thinking that.” he pulled back and cupped her cheeks, making their eyes lock. “as long as you know i would never even think of doing something like that.”

he said it so seriously, with such finality, annabeth almost teared up. he made it so easy to trust and believe him wholeheartedly. “i don’t deserve you,” she whispered.

percy’s eyebrows furrowed like she’d said something crazy. “you deserve the world,” he said easily, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

she stared at him. i already have it, she almost said. but a confession that deep after less than two months of dating scared her, regardless of how true it was. instead, she smiled a little and quietly said, “thank you.”

he brought her face closer and kissed her, allowing warmth to overcome her body. when he pulled away, percy smiled. “okay, no more sad. we have hot chocolate and movies and cuddles and we’re okay, yeah?”

and as crazy as it was, he was right. she was okay now. moments earlier, she had been expecting this amazing thing they had built to crumble beneath them and instead, they were okay. happy, even. “yeah,” she smiled.

less than a minute later, they were cuddled up together with his tv on and their mugs in hand. he’d let annabeth pick a movie first and because she loved to see him suffer, she’d picked a scary movie.

“that’s fine,” he said. “it just means you have to hold me when i get scared.” which she had been planning on doing anyways.

hours later, percy was drifting in and out of consciousness when annabeth decided it was time to sleep. “sleep,” he mumbled. “yes. good.”

“very good,” she agreed softly, shutting off the tv, leaving them in darkness. as tired as he was, he still made the effort to pull her closer and adjust them until she was comfortable. with her head buried in his chest, she felt more at peace than she ever had, maybe in her entire life.

“goodnight, perce,” she whispered.

“night, beth,” he murmured. “love you.”

annabeth’s eyes, which had been closed, popped open. he hadn’t seemed to realize his confession as she felt his breathing slowly begin to even out. for a second, she’d wondered if she’d imagined them. maybe she was already asleep and she was dreaming?

but something told her that wasn’t the case, and he had actually just told her that he loved her. annabeth bit her lip as a smile grew on her face.

she could easily pretend this never happened and let him have the chance to say it when he was fully awake, or better yet, she catch him off guard by saying it first. but instead, the idea of teasing him relentlessly about this being the first time he said those words sounded much more appealing.

“i love you, too,” she murmured into his shirt.

when they woke up the next morning, it took annabeth approximately two minutes to crack, telling him about what he’d said the night before. (he was hardly embarrassed though, considering she said it back right after she told him.)

[iprobablyshipit91]

How To Save A Life

Genre: action / romance / fluff

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word Count: 2,901

Warnings: violence, graphic injuries, war, swearing

A Fred lives au because I will never accept that he died in the battle 💕

Harry Potter Masterlist

The air explodes.

You don’t even have time to think. One second your laughing as Fred makes fun of Percy for telling a joke for the first time in his life whilst duelling a death eater, the next your flying through the air, holding onto the stick of wood in your hand with all your might. Landing flat on your back, your momentum keeps you sliding until you hit a stone wall where your head thumps sickeningly into the pillar. Dazed, you lie still for a moment, your brain catching up to what is happening.

You can’t hear anything save a ringing in your ears and the world is hazy above you. Thick smoke swirls filled with debris and dust that permeates your lungs and chokes you with each breath making you desperate for water. You slowly stretch your arm out to the side, fingers dancing around, feeling for the boy who was by your side just moments ago but only groping mid air.

Your hearing comes back so suddenly it’s like someone switched the volume off mute and instantly the sounds of screams and bangs come from all around the castle. You gingerly move your legs and sit up, feeling muscles protest and a spot in your ribs burn whilst something warm and sticky runs down your cheek. To your left, a strangled cry comes and you turn quickly to see Percy on top of another body with red hair and your heart stops.

“No. No, no, no,” you mumble, staggering to your feet, ignoring any and all pain as you slip over blocks and dust to his side. You vaguely register half the wall is missing, the castle open to the night sky but the scene in front of you demands your attention, though it brings bile to your throat. Fred is sprawled out, half under the rubble, his left leg at an angle that makes your stomach twist and piece of jagged metal protruding from his shoulder.

You pull a crying Percy off your boyfriend as you scramble to feel his neck. His stillness terrifies you but a faint pulse beats against your fingers and you feel relief flood through your body. He will be okay, you tell yourself. You can save him now. You just need to focus.

“Percy, get me some Dittany.” You say, taking a deep breath and assessing where to start fixing him first. His leg is a mess but mending bones is not your forte and it isn’t life threatening. It can be fixed later. He’s bleeding far too much from a number of wounds and you start to tear his robes away to better see the damage.

“Dittany? But where would I...” Percy worries and you look at him in exasperation.

“ARE YOU A FUCKING WIZARD OR NOT? SUMMON SOME FROM POMFREY’S STOCK!” You yell angrily at him, not having the time and patience to deal with his dithering while you keep working on Fred who coughs weakly, his eyes fluttering.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” he winces and you try to smile back although you’re sure it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m pretty sure you could have picked a better time and place to strip me though, darling.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him, turning instead to Harry, Ron and Hermione who are muttering behind you.

“Block the corridor. I need five minutes. Please?” Your eyes are desperate and they nod mutely, faces white and expressions solemn as they move to defend from any further attack.

As you turn back to Fred, Percy presses a vial of Dittany into your hand and seems to finally have got the presence of mind to conjure up some bandages which you accept gratefully. You start to clean the dust and grime away with your wand and pour drops of the potion onto his worse wounds, ensuring the skin stitches itself back together and the bleeding stops. Percy follows behind, fumbling with bandages and sealing them to ensure they stay in place. You can hear Fred’s grunting at the pain as you do each one, but you try to ignore it as much as possible, focusing as hard as you can on the task at hand.

“Did it knock the handsome out of me?” Fred asks, grimacing in pain, as you continue working. You finally manage a real smile, despite it being small.

“Nothing’s strong enough to do that,” you murmur and Fred relaxes a little, his eyes closing as you put the potion to one side.

“Y/N,” Percy says looking towards the metal still sticking out of his shoulder. “Do we pull it out?”

Your eyes rove over the wound, slowly oozing blood that you know is going to be a thousand times worse the second the metal is removed. Your mind is going a mile a minute trying to work out how best to fix him.

“We could try vanishing it?” You suggest nervously, with no idea if it will actually work. “That at least wouldn’t hurt him and cause any more damage. We’ll need to move quickly though. He’s already lost too much blood.” You look at his pale face, the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose so much more prominent with his sickly pallor.

Percy nods and grips his wand tightly. You take the hint and get the Dittany ready, but you know it won’t be enough this time. Percy’s wand swishes in a familiar motion and the metal is suddenly gone and your hand is tipping the potion into the gaping wound before you can even register what you’re seeing. Fred yelps frantically in pain as Percy drops his wand to hold him still. His blood covers your hands and clothes, shiny red until you feel that it’s all you can see, your eyesight blurring with the tears running down your cheeks. Despite it all, you continue to let the potion run into the vast hole in his shoulder though it’s killing you inside to cause him this much pain.

The blood flow finally starts to ease and you pick up your wand, blinking away your tears and start to stitch him up as neatly as you can with shaking hands.

“Consarcino,” you whisper over and over again, your wrist flicking back and forth over the wound to try and hold it together. Your strangely grateful for all the mishaps he’s got in before now with his twin, meaning you’ve had this spell memorised and well practiced with the numerous times you’ve patched them up over the years. Still, you breath a sigh of relief as the final stitch goes in, this being by far the worse wound you’ve fixed. It’s short lived however, when you notice how still and pale Fred is.

Your heart beats double time, your wand slipping from your fingers as you frantically fumble for his pulse again, but this time come up short. Percy is yelling something but you can’t hear it over the blood pounding in your ears. Your mind is racing, trying to think of any spell that can help fix this, to reverse what is happening but there is no magic that can restore life and so you do the only thing you can think of. Crossing your hands over his heart, you press his chest rhythmically.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

The burning in your ribs returns tenfold, not giving you the option of ignoring it anymore. You press on though. This pain is nothing compared to what you’ll feel if Fred doesn’t wake.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.

“Percy, he needs blood. Try to summon some blood replenishing potion,” you cry, not stopping your movements despite black spots now appearing in your vision.

Twenty eight. Twenty nine. Thirty.

You tip his head back, pinch his nose and breath into his mouth. The pain in your ribs intensifies somehow but you force yourself to watch his chest rise then fall, before repeating the motion and moving your hands back to his chest. You have no idea if you’re doing this right, so long ago you did some muggle first aid training. You keep going though, unwilling to accept that Fred Weasley is destined to die today.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

You watch Percy tip some potion down his throat and close his mouth, forcing him to swallow.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen.

What was it that Snape said on how quickly that potion takes effect? Something about different blood types working at different speeds. You pray he has the fastest.

Twenty. Twenty one. Twenty two.

“Don’t. You. Dare. Die. On. Me. Fred. Weasley.” You grunt out as you continue pressing on his chest, looking for any sign of life before moving back to his mouth. Out of the corner of your eye you think you see his fingers twitch and so you start the process all over again.

One. Two. Three.

Fred’s eyes suddenly snap open as he sucks in a deep breath and the relief that sweeps over you is almost flooring. He coughs a little before his eyes flutter back shut. However you can see the rhythmical rise and fall of his chest and the small frown creasing his forehead from pain. He’s alive and you intend to make sure he stays that way.

“We need to get him proper medical help,” you whisper, eyeing the blue and purplish bruising slowly appearing on his ribs and arms between the barely healed lacerations and burns littering his skin. Percy nods mutely and conjures a stretcher, although it takes him a few tries as his hand is shaking so much. You carefully remove the rocks still pinning his legs down and somehow help Percy move him on to the stretcher. You’re starting to feel dreadfully lightheaded and can only assume adrenaline is keeping you going at this point.

“Pomfrey has set up in the Great Hall,” Percy says. “We should take him there.”

You nod in agreement, forcing yourself to focus as Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly join you.

“Is he...” Ron starts, then falters. Clearly unsure what to ask.

“I’ve done what I can,” you say slowly, hearing the pleading note in your own voice that begs him to understand. You’re not a healer by any stretch, sheer determination to keep Fred alive pushing you through.

“She was amazing,” Percy interrupts however standing up and levitating the stretcher “Fred’s strong. He’ll pull through,” he adds determinedly, as if he can save him by pure thought power alone.

You start to stand too, your wand drawn ready to defend Fred and Percy, when pain radiates through you from your ribs. The black spots in your vision multiply as you sway on the spot and soon they’re all you can see and you feel yourself falling to the floor as distantly someone shouts your name.

________________________________________________________________

Your senses come back to you slowly. Firstly, you hear a buzzing sound, like being in the Great Hall at breakfast time when everyone is chatting away. The thought makes you happy, it’s one of your favourite places to be after all. Why is it so dark though, you wonder, and why does it smell of smoke and burning? You’ve never known the house elves to burn a single thing before.

The next thing you notice is a hand in your own. The persons thumb, swiping back and forth along your knuckles slowly. You frown as you try and place all the broken pieces and work out what’s going on.

“Y/N?” A voice suddenly says, the thumb stopping its movements as the fingers grip a little tighter. That voice is one you’d recognise anywhere and your heart gives a little leap. Fred.

“Come on sweetheart. Open your eyes,” he coaxes and your brain suddenly clicks as to why it’s so dark. Trying to open your eyes though is a effort in itself. You’ve never known them feel so heavy.

“Please baby. I need to see those beautiful eyes.”

You’re turning to mush at his words but you keep fighting and at last your eyes flutter open, your vision completely filled with his chocolate brown eyes brimming with concern.

“Y/N,” he breaths and leans forward, engulfing you in an all consuming hug. You close your eyes, turn your face into his vibrant red hair and take in his scent as images suddenly race through your mind. The battle, the explosion, the boy you love laying in the rubble, broken, pale and still.

“Freddie. I thought I’d lost you,” you croak out, your voice sounding so raspy. Fred pulls back and gives an uncharacteristically small smile. You start to push yourself up against the wall behind you, wincing at the soreness in your ribs, and notice that you are in fact in the Great Hall where it is a flurry of activity. Injured people on stretchers like your own lie neatly in rows, people at their bedside either healing or praying or grieving. You look back at Fred, his arm is strapped across his body to stop any movement and his shoulder is heavily bandaged. He seems to be sat oddly with his left leg stuck out straight but then you notice the splint that’s tightly bound to it. His skin is still littered with marks and burns, though most of them look days old rather than the fresh wounds that you remember. Most of all though he’s alive

“Yeah, well, you got your own back,” he jokes, though half heartedly as he lends you an arm to help you sit a little more comfortably then sets about conjuring a glass and filling it with water. “Imagine my distress when I wake to find my girlfriend missing from my bedside vigil and laid out unconscious on the stretcher next to me.”

You roll your eyes at him whilst gratefully accepting the water and draining it in one long gulp.

“Is it still...” you start quietly but Fred interrupts, shaking his head and smiling again.

“It’s over. Harry beat him,” he laughs. “We both missed out on the grand finale, love. I’m told it was excellent.”

You nod slowly, taking in this new information, a smile creeping onto your face. The wizarding war is finally over. No more hiding. No more praying you’ll make it out alive. You’re sat with the man you love more than anything in the world without the wolves howling at the door.

“So... what’s the damage?” You ask him, carefully.

“You’ve got a concussion and had three broken ribs that Madam Pomfrey has fixed. She said one punctured your lung but she’s fixed that too although it was much trickier. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while...”

“No, Fred. I mean what’s the damage with you,” you interrupt with a smile.

“Oh,” Fred says. “I’m fine, darling. Don’t worry about me.”

“The way your arm and leg are wrapped up would suggest differently,” you quip dryly. Fred sighs before reluctantly going into detail.

“I’ll be fine. Apparently I broke my leg in more than one place which is why I have the splint. They’re all fixed but multiple breaks make it a bit weak. You fixed my shoulder up well enough, I just need to keep my arm in this for a few weeks, make sure it really heals.”

“I did a bad job didn’t I?”

Fred groans a little, clearly not wanting to get into this topic with you.

“Not bad per se but Poppy was muttering something about Dittany only going so far,” Fred grins but falters at your expression. He reaches forward to grab your hand again. “Hey, don’t look so glum, if you hadn’t done what you did, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

You give him a small smile but still feel a twinge of guilt that you can’t shake. Fred sighs and keeps going.

“Percy told me what you did, how you did that muggle thing to keep me alive while the blood replenishing potion worked. How you managed to breath into my mouth with a punctured lung I’ll never know,” Fred replies, half exasperated, half admiringly. He leans forward and kisses your hairline, lingering for a few seconds before whispering into your skin. “I owe you my life, Y/N.”

“Just continue to let me be a part of your life,” you whisper back. “It’s all the thanks I’ll ever need.”

“Done.” Fred chuckles whilst manoeuvring himself around slowly to sit next to you and wrapping his arm around you. “Although I think you’ll find it’s you that’s stuck with me, love.”

“Meh, same difference,” you shrug, snuggling deeper into his side as he kisses the top of your head.

“Yes well, you might not think that seeing as I come as a package deal. Crazy family all included. All of which are especially grateful to you too by the way. Honestly, mums going to go crackers when she sees you’re awake. You’re definitely going to be her favourite daughter-in-law!”

You blush at that, snuggling deeper into Fred’s chest. You’re not sure if he actually meant what he implied in the offhand comment but the thought of marrying him one day and being Y/N Weasley brings you more joy than you could ever imagine. For now though, you’re content to sit in the arms of the man you love and have a moment of peace.

[carewyncromwell]

NEXT PART OF THE “PIRATES AU” GO TIME! For the previous part, click here, or you can also browse the entire tag for this AU here! Featuring in this section, once again, is ma cherie @cursebreakerfarrier’s girl Juliette “Jules” Farrier. <3

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had been glad for the rumbles of thunder and the terrible fog that rolled in that night. She knew Governor Farrier would want to quickly make an example out of Orion, and she needed any excuse she could scrounge up to belay his execution date so that she could figure out a way to get him out that wouldn’t either 1, put him in too much danger, or 2, make her lose her position as Commodore. If she got on the wrong side of the law herself, she’d lose the one advantage she had -- namely, the authority and power needed to keep Orion from harm.

What Carewyn could not have expected was the sound that soon accompanied the rumbles of thunder -- cannon fire.

Port Royal was under attack.

A large ship, nearly the size of the Dauntless that somehow seemed to glide in as quickly and silently as the fog, with a blood-red-stained hull and an intricate “R” chiseled into the left side of its bow came into port, and out of it came a mass of filthy, terrifying pirates all wearing dark red tunics. They held torches, pistols, and cutlasses, and they descended upon the island like a swarm of blood-stained rats.

Carewyn immediately ordered a counterattack. Sending out several battalions to protect the Governor’s mansion and the townspeople, she then stayed behind at the fort to lead her soldiers in an offensive against the ship the pirates had come from. The assault went on for almost an hour, but somehow, no matter how outnumbered the pirates were, their advance toward the fort never seemed to halt -- and somehow their numbers never seemed to dwindle...

In the brig, Orion could see the attack in the distance from the tiny window in the far upper corner of his cell. Anyone who wasn’t part of the Artemis’s crew might’ve hypothesized that these pirates had come after Orion, but Orion knew better. Murphy was far too strategic to just barrel into a busy and well-guarded town like Port Royal, and he and the rest of the crew would’ve never done something so dangerous and destructive, if nothing else, than because they’d know he wouldn’t approve. More importantly...Orion could see they were attacking the fort -- where Carewyn likely was at that very moment.

It was a struggle for Orion to try to keep calm. Whenever he was under a lot of stress -- and, to a lesser extent, whenever cannons were fired around him -- it was always rather difficult for him to find and keep his center. His heart rate would pound way too fast and he’d be unable to breathe fully or steadily and he’d have to hold his own hands in a vain attempt to keep them from shaking.

He had to get up there -- and yet his thoughts and his heartbeat were just too loud and too fast in his head for him to think. At several points the Revenge fired cannon balls right at the brig and smashed down walls, but they never managed to explode in a place Orion could use to bust his way out. He tried to meditate and clear his head -- place his faith in Carewyn, that she’d be safe -- just so that he’d be able to think clearly enough to summon up a means to actually help...but he found himself stuck in a terrible cycle of anxiety he couldn’t break free of.

Center yourself -- center -- Carewyn -- find your center -- balance -- calm -- Carewyn, please -- she’s all right -- center yourself -- no, she’s not -- no, she’s not -- find your center -- breathe --

Orion had good reason to be worried -- for when the pirates reached the fort, they cut down every soldier in their way, all with seemingly little effort. When they arrived, Carewyn also realized who it was that was attacking them.

Carewyn’s blue eyes widened upon the dark red tunics worn by the pirates at the head of the charge.

She knew that uniform only too well. It perfectly explained their ruthlessness -- and worse, despite their clear advantage in numbers, her soldiers were still somehow outmatched...

She dashed over to Percy, who had been firing at the pirates with his rifle, and seized his shoulder.

“Percy -- lead the new recruits in a retreat,” she said urgently.

Percy looked up in alarm. “Retreat? We’re abandoning the fort?”

“I care less about the fort than I do our men’s lives,” Carewyn said fiercely. “Get them out of here -- I’ll cover you.”

“But -- ”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant!” she cut him off sharply. Seeing the conflict and worry in his eyes, she then gave his shoulder a squeeze and said more softly, “I’m counting on you. Look after them.”

Percy couldn’t seem to summon any response. His freckled face was very white and scared. Nonetheless, he eventually managed to swallow back the lump in his throat and give her a fervent nod. He then immediately rushed off to gather the rest of his regiment.

“Fall back! Fall back! Stay together!”

Carewyn couldn’t hide the fear she felt herself as she turned her back on Percy and the other soldiers, unsheathing her sword and strolling leisurely into the throng of red-garbed pirates. They attacked her all at once, and within moments, she was fighting all six of them, ducking their blows and slashing into them with ferocity.

By her own design, the Commodore of Port Royal fought the crew of the pirate ship Revenge completely single-handed.

Not long after the seven pirates had swarmed the fort, they seemed to just as abruptly withdraw. No one knew why until Charlie and Bill -- hotly engaged in fighting a handful of pirates who had been ransacking houses -- caught sight of the red-garbed group who was retreating.

‘That must be the Captain!’ thought Bill.

At the head of the group was an older graying pirate dressed in a black coat much more ornate than the rest of his crew’s and a wide-brimmed red hat, which made him look like a silent, hungry vulture among a sea of red. His face was oddly placid and coolly smiling in response to all the chaos, even as he barked around at the rest of the pirates.

“Enough! Fall back now! We have what we came for!”

There was a roar of raucous delight from the rest of the crew, and they just as quickly flocked to the older man’s side.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed angrily. “No way am I gonna let you all walk off that easily -- !”

Before Bill could stop him, he charged at the group of pirates. One of them -- a female pirate, to Bill’s surprise, with a mane of long dark red curls and very cold almond-shaped blue eyes -- immediately unsheathed her own sword and the two began to fight. At last Charlie managed to stab her in the chest, making her collapse in a heap --

It was when she fell back that Charlie saw what the brown-haired female pirate to the pirate captain’s left was carrying over her shoulder -- the prone form of someone dressed in Navy blue and loosely flying ginger red hair.

“CAREY!” screamed Charlie.

Three other pirates immediately descended on Charlie with their cutlasses, slashing at his chest and his long ponytail. Charlie was soon completely overwhelmed in battle, unable to push past them. He tried to keep Carewyn in sight, but she was disappearing over the horizon --

Bill’s heart leapt into his throat as he chased after the group of pirates, his own sword high. His white robes were torn and covered in blood, but he didn’t care -- he couldn’t let them take Carewyn --

With a roar of fury, he went straight for the woman holding Carewyn. He slashed her shoulder, making her crumple in on herself with an angry cry -- Bill seized the back of Carewyn’s jacket, to pull her away --

“AAAARGH!”

Searing pain wrenched through Bill’s back, and in an instant, he was yanked backward away from Carewyn and thrown to the ground. Blood pooled out of his left side as someone stomped their foot on top of him with such force that he was slammed into the brick.

“ACK!”

“Don’t bother getting up, holy Father,” said a very cold, and yet scalding female voice. “We are demons you cannot defeat.”

Bill gritted his teeth in pain as he struggled to get to his feet.

“No -- “ he choked, his eyes flaring with righteous anger. “No, you -- you can’t have him -- !”

The captain raised his eyebrows in a cruel kind of amusement. “‘Him?’“

The brown-haired woman, who seemed to have completely shaken off the injury Bill had inflicted on her, gave a hard, forced-sounding laugh. The woman on top of Bill pushed down into him harder, making him gasp in pain.

“Heed this warning, boy,” she hissed right in his ear. “Stay away from our flesh and blood, or we’ll happily slash open your flesh and spill your blood in full.”

Her dark red curls had dropped into his line of vision -- Bill’s face contorted with confusion -- wait -- hadn’t Charlie already -- !?

“Stop playing with your food, Pearl,” said a younger, scathing male voice somewhere behind her. “We’ve got what we came for, so let’s leave this hovel behind.”

“Don’t tell me what to -- ”

“Fall back, Pearl,” the captain repeated very coolly. “Let the holy man be. Better that he learn the sting of failure that comes from doing the Lord’s work sooner rather than later.”

Bill made one last valiant attempt to get up, but the woman called Pearl kicked him in the back of the head with the metal heel of her boot and his mind went black.

Port Royal was absolutely devastated by the aftermath of the attack. Not only had their town been largely trashed, but their local hero had been stolen from them by the very pirates she fought single-handedly to give the rest of her soldiers the chance to escape from. All three Weasleys took what had happened very hard, all feeling ashamed and responsible for not having been able to protect Carewyn, who they saw as family to them. Percy immediately put his efforts toward helping the remaining officers put together a search party, but both Bill and Charlie feared that the Navy would never be able to find her. The Revenge was a ship of legends that seemingly appeared in and out of the fog like a ghost and only made berth on an island that supposedly nobody could reach unless they somehow already knew where it was. And given that it was an island inhabited by pirates, it was unlikely to be a place the British Navy could easily find.

Fortunately for the Weasleys, there was another person who was worried about Carewyn and was determined to do whatever had to be done to rescue her -- Jules Farrier. And so she charmed her way into the brig, slipped the watching guards some drugged drinks, and then picked up her skirts so she could dash down the stairs to the lone cell she knew was still inhabited.

Jules found Orion Amari sitting cross-legged in the corner of his cell. His eyes were closed and his hands were clasped in his lap. The wall behind him had been broken open at the top, but the jagged hole wasn’t wide enough for him to slip through.

The Governor’s daughter bent down, grabbing onto one of the wooden bars of his cell so she could look through them at him.

“Captain Amari,” she said urgently.

Orion’s head twitched. Although his expression was as unreadable as ever, his shoulders were tenser than normal as he slowly opened his eyes.

“...Miss Farrier,” he said, sounding far less surprised than he probably was. “I hope your Mr. Weasley is well.”

Jules flushed a little at the mention of “her” Mr. Weasley, but was too focused on the task at hand to care.

“Captain Amari, Carey’s been kidnapped.”

Orion’s expression abruptly tensed. His dark eyes went very wide and he froze up like a deer in the headlights.

“What?” The word came out so quietly and shakily it was like it was only said by a shadow of his actual voice.

“It was the Revenge,” said Jules, as Orion quickly shoved himself across the floor so that he could also grab onto the bars and peek through them at her. “They stormed the fort -- they trashed everything, but didn’t take anything except her. Bill and Charlie tried to stop them, but -- ”

“You can’t fight those men,” Orion cut her off very lowly.

He closed his eyes again -- he was breathing as deeply as he could, as if he were trying to keep his heart rate down.

“...There are tales, about the curse that plagues the Revenge’s crew. Some say they cannot be killed. Some say they’re not even human. Some say that they’re more dead than alive, and yet they walk among us all the same...”

He clasped his hands together, his dark eyebrows knitting together over his eyes.

“Carewyn was able to escape their curse, when she and Jacob fled all those years ago...and knowing Charles Cromwell, he couldn’t stand the thought of any member of his family living free -- of the curse...or of him.”

Jules’s eyes narrowed. Carewyn had never told her much about her grandfather, but considering she was more than experienced dealing with a family member who tried to dictate how she should live her life, she completely understood why Jacob wanted to get himself and his sister away from that.

“The Navy’s sent out search parties, but we all know that they won’t find her quickly. But you care about Carewyn -- she told me she helped you, and that you let her escape. You have a ship and a crew -- and since you’re a pirate, you’d probably be able to find out where the Revenge makes berth, right?”

Orion opened his eyes at last. His gaze upon Jules’s face was very unreadable.

“Finding Carewyn I believe I could manage,” he said levelly, “were I not currently imprisoned.”

Jules’s lips spread into a wry smile as she rose to her feet and reached into her sleeve.

“These might help with that,” she said coolly, dangling the ring of keys off of her pointer finger.

Getting Orion out of his cell was the easy part. Another pair of men had come to take the place of the original guards and found them passed out on the floor, just before they caught sight of Orion and Jules darting around the hall. Soon the bronze bell was clanging, signalling a prison break, and more soldiers arrived. At one point Orion even had to pick Jules up bridal style so they could jump down a set of stairs. Just when it seemed they might get captured, though, who should come to their rescue, but --

“Bill!” breathed Jules in relief.

Bill kicked the last soldier off the wall and whirled around. Orion quickly put Jules down, and Bill immediately swooped down on her, clutching her shoulder and searching her face for injuries.

“Are you hurt? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Jules, “but Bill -- what are you -- ?”

Bill gave her a grim smile. “Same reason as you, I reckon.”

His brown eyes flickered over to Orion, narrowing slightly as he straightened up.

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, Amari,” said the priest, “but if Miss Farrier got you out, I imagine she convinced you to help us find out where Charles Cromwell took Carey.”

Orion inclined his head. “I understand that you don’t trust me, Bill Weasley, but rest assured, I don’t want Carewyn in the clutches of Charles Cromwell any more than you do.”

Bill still looked very suspicious; Jules brought a hand onto his arm and gave it a squeeze through the sleeve of his robes.

“Bill, we can trust him. He cares about Carey -- I know she’d trust him, if our places were switched.”

Bill deflated slightly under Jules’s hold. He stared down at her for a long moment; then, with a swallow, he turned back to Orion.

“...Carey never has trusted easily,” he said quietly, “so if you think that’s true, and if you trust him...then I will as well.”

His silent stare seemed to add, ‘For now.’

The three were abruptly startled to attention by the sound of a loud CRASH. They dashed around the corner, to find a large piece of the lowered wooden gate on top of a group of stunned soldiers and another ginger-haired man climbing casually through the hole over to them.

“Charlie?” said Bill, taken aback.

Charlie grinned at Bill and Jules. “Hey, lovebirds! Guess we must’ve had the same idea -- though I’d planned on shaking the bloke down for information, not set him loose...”

He cocked an eyebrow at Orion.

“But oh well -- is he taking us to Carey?”

Orion inclined his head to Charlie like he had Bill, his dark eyes very calm but still narrowed seriously.

“I am returning to the Artemis and aim to go after the Revenge. If you wish to assist me in that, I would be very grateful. If you wish to join me in it, however, it would be far more dangerous -- even more so than what you’ve already done.”

Charlie’s grin grew a bit more cocky. “Look, mate -- Carey is my twin. Not by blood, but she’s my twin all the same. She’s family. There’s no way in Hell I’m not going to help her, if she needs me.”

Bill glanced at Jules. He agreed with Charlie 100%, but Jules going would be very different than either of them. She hadn’t been in the Navy -- she wasn’t trained with a pistol or sword.

Nevertheless Jules looked back at Bill with a perfectly fearless expression.

“Us too,” she said firmly.

Bill’s eyes rippled with emotion around his broadening smile. Juliette Farrier truly was the bravest, most wonderful woman he’d ever met in his life.

Grinning, Charlie turned back to the broken gate.

“Now then, you’d best get those swords out -- there’ll no doubt be a party waiting for us, if we head for any of the docks. I hope your ship’s not too far off, Amari.”

Orion’s dark eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Not at all,” he said levelly. “The Artemis’s best aspect is her ability to hide in plain sight.”

“Good.”

Charlie unsheathed the sword at his side. The heavy iron hilt was beautifully melded into a stylized dragon.

“Never thought I’d get such good use out of this baby, when I made it,” he said with another cheeky grin as he held it aloft.

Orion, Bill, Charlie, and Jules dashed for the northern-most dock. It was largely deserted except for what looked like a single, abandoned ship -- but, as it turned out, that was merely an illusion. Orion Amari apparently had a good friend in Tortuga who specialized in old magics, and after he’d been kind to her, she’d cast a spell on the Artemis that gave it the ability to disguise itself as an innocent-looking merchant ship. Once Orion used the word necessary to remove the illusion, both the Artemis and its crew reappeared, and they made ready to board. As Charlie had predicted, however, a whole slew of soldiers had come to stop them -- among them, the final Weasley brother, Percy, who was the last one left standing after Orion, Charlie, and Bill had taken out the rest of the battalion and Orion had made it on board the Artemis.

Unlike Bill and Charlie, however, Percy refused to trust Orion -- he was a pirate, just like the ones who’d kidnapped Carewyn. He’d kidnapped her himself, even if Carewyn managed to get away. If Bill and Charlie went with him, they’d be labeled as pirates too -- if Jules went, then the Governor would hunt all of them down and probably kill them, just to get her back.

“I know you want to help,” he told his brothers sharply, pointing his pistol at them but only by protocol, “but let the Navy handle this!”

“The Navy can’t find a pirate island!” Charlie shot back impatiently. “Charles Cromwell is ruthless, Perce -- if we dally around waiting for the Navy to find her the ‘upstanding way,’  Carey might be dead by the time we reach her!”

“And if you do this, then you’ll have nothing left to come back to!” said Percy. “You’ll be tarred with Amari’s brush, Charlie -- you and Bill, and Jules -- you’ll be criminals! You’ll have no future, no home -- no chance at a normal life, ever again! You’ll be hunted down like animals! The Navy will hunt you down -- the thing you fought for! The thing we fought for! The thing Carey and I still fight for! Is that what Mum and Dad would want? Ginny, or Ron, or Fred and George? Is that what Carey would want -- you throwing away your entire lives and futures!?”

Percy’s hand holding his pistol was shaking. Bill’s lips came together very tightly.

“Percy,” he said very softly, “we can’t let Carey stay in the clutches of Charles Cromwell. That man slaughtered his own daughter and her husband, all because they wouldn’t bow to his will. Carey was lucky to escape him, when she had the chance. I’m sure she’s known her whole life that he might catch up with her and dreaded that moment every single day...and yet she kept it all to herself, because that’s what Carey does. She takes every knife she can herself, so we don’t have to.”

Jules looked from Bill to Percy, her brown eyes narrowed in determination as she nodded in agreement.

“We can’t leave her, Percy,” she said firmly. “Once Carey’s safe...whatever happens next...we can deal with the consequences.”

Percy stared up at them, his freckles very stark against his deathly pale face. His eyes darted from Charlie to Bill and back.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered.

Charlie stubbornly turned away and strode right up the gangplank onto the Artemis’s deck. He stopped to Orion’s right, but avoided eye contact with anyone on board.

“Charlie -- ” pleaded Percy. “Don’t do this -- think of Mum -- think of us -- ”

Jules headed up the gangplank too, turning back to look at Bill. Bill turned away from Percy. 

“Bill -- ” Percy said again. “Don’t -- please -- ”

Bill bowed his head.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bill!”

Percy’s voice came out as a despair-filled, choked yelp of pain. The sound clearly affected Bill, judging by how he shut his eyes tight. Jules reached out as if to take his hand, but Bill plowed up the gangplank, unable to face anyone, as the gangplank was raised and the Artemis immediately set sail.

Charlie escaped into the rigging and sat in the crow’s nest alone for the next hour. Bill went to the far side of the deck, grabbing onto the railing in a vice grip and hunching over it as he struggled not to cry. Jules came up beside him and, her own eyes full of pain, she rested her head and shoulder against his, desperate to show any support she could.

As much as they all knew they had no other choice, if they wanted to save Carewyn...it didn’t make the schism between the Weasley brothers any less searing and painful.

[andrewmoocow]

Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 5: Never Again (originally posted on November 16, 2020)

AN: Good to see you all again my dear readers! How have things  been? Am I being too intrusive? Well, doesn't matter! It's good to be  back in business after a few weeks, so let's just cut to the chase, shall we?

--

"So  how much of this show is actual camping?" HYDRA Bob asked Peridot as  they, along with Deadpool & Lapis, watched Camp Pining Hearts  together at the X-Mansion while surrounded by massive amounts of snack  foods and garbage. "A fair bit, but pretty much everyone comes for the  romance," Peridot answered. "Yeah," Wade stated. "like your crippling yaoi addiction."

"What is yah-oy?" Lapis asked while  mispronouncing this new word just as Pearl came in with a broom. "You really should learn how to pick up after yourselves as guests." The Gem  grumbled while sweeping up crumbs off the carpet. "Hey, wise up Pearl,  I'm basically an honorary member!" Deadpool remarked. "Hey, Flat-Top,  gimme a refill on my coke here!"

"And you should also treat the  people housing you like friends, not your servants." Colossus reminded  them, just as disgruntled as Pearl, while he gave the Merc with a Mouth another bottle of pop when suddenly, Xavier came in. "Ah, Professor!  Would you be so kind as to help us teach Wade here some manners?"

"It's alright, Piotr." Xavier calmed the metal mutant down. "Although Mr.  Wilson here can be a bit of a nuisance, we do need all the help we can  get to rescue Steven and Kitty."

"Thanks for the save Cap'n." Wade  grinned at the aged mutant when someone knocked at the window. "Hey,  anyone in there?!" the voice of Spider-Man called from outside, latching  upside down onto the glass. "Peter!" Pearl exclaimed. "Long time no  see. How are the other Avengers doing?"

"The big six are off in  space right now, and the reserves are holding down the fort for now."  The web-slinger answered as he opened the window and leaped through it.  "When your message reached us, I was the first to take it and brought  along a few pals who might be useful."

As Peter finished talking, a  silver and blue blur burst through the front doors, stopping to reveal  itself as Quicksilver. "Pietro, good to see you!" Colossus exclaimed.  "Must mean Wanda isn't too far behind, da?"

"You are correct."  Scarlet Witch answered as she followed her brother. "Hello again Crystal  Gems." She greeted the Gems. "Hello to you and Pietro too, Wanda,"  Garnet replied as she stepped into the room. "It certainly has been a  while since Thanos. I hope you both are well."

"Oh, never better  Garney!" Quicksilver responded as he sat down between Peridot &  Lapis to watch Camp Pining Hearts with them. "Ooh, I love this show! I  always felt Pierre & Percy have really good chemistry."

"Thank  you for agreeing with me good sir." Peridot added pridefully. "Oh, quit with the shit already!" Wade interjected crossly. "No one ever talks about Pierre and Paulette!"

"You take that back, you crimson clod." Peridot snarled threateningly at the mercenary and soon, an  intense shipping debate between the two began. "Oh, this could take a long while." Pearl sighed in exhaustion.

"I just watch for all the crazy shenanigans these campers get up to." Spider-Man gave his opinion while snatching some snicker-doodles from the ottoman.

--

"Come on, work!" Kitty groaned in frustration as she continuously tried and failed to break her and Steven from their imprisonment without using her mutant powers. "If only I could find a way to break this collar, then  we'd get outta here easier."

"Why don't I give it a shot?" Steven  suggested, deciding to use his shield to cut the bars apart. However, that failed as well. "It's hopeless. If I didn't come, then maybe we wouldn't be stuck here."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up like that  Steven." Kitty comforted her fellow mutant. "I'm sure the Gems are  already on their way to save us, so try and keep your chin up until  then." She implored Steven, but he remained downtrodden. "Let's face it;  we're here because of my mom."

"Oh, mother issues?" Kitty  realized. "I get it. That's perfectly normal. But you can't always let  the sins of the parent bring you down." She assured him. "Yeah, sins  like taking part in universal genocide before realizing that wasn't good  and instead doing things far worse than that." Steven grumbled, much to  her surprise. "Whoa okay, didn't see that coming!" Kitty exclaimed.  "Far worse how? Did she actually murder someone?"

"She  deliberately left tons of Gems and other races to die for her just  because she was bored of being Pink Diamond, let two of my friends to be  imprisoned for thousands of years, forced Gems who cared for her to  suffer from her faked death and who knows what else!" Steven complained.  "And then there was that whole thing with Magneto."

As if on cue,  the aforementioned leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants stepped into  the brig to interrogate them. "I see you've been making yourselves at  home while you could." He declared before grabbing Steven by the shirt  collar through the cell bars. "Tell me boy, why do you have her  gemstone? Was it passed down to you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."  Steven answered. "When I was born, my mom died to give birth to me, and I  got her gemstone and all her powers as a result. She also left me with  all her baggage from ages ago, including when she was once a member of  the Great Diamond Authority."

"Great Diamond Authority?" Magneto  wondered, and Kitty seemed just as confused. "Yeah, I have to agree.  There are more Diamonds out there?"

"That's not important right  now," Steven said before Magneto set him down. "Still, why go after me in particular? We're both mutants. We should be on the same side!"

"You already know about how Rose abandoned me at Auschwitz, but the Gems only told you half the story," Erik revealed, turning away from Steven  & Kitty in the process. "My part of this tale is far more complex  than you realize. Like many a Jew during the war, I was prosecuted by  the Nazis for my religion and sentenced to death. But I was a special  case."

--

Heavy rain poured upon  Poland in 1944 as a large group of imprisoned Jews marched sorrowfully  through Auschwitz, their world nothing but drab colors aside from the  bright yellow Star of David on their clothes signifying their religion.  All around them, more of their people were forced to perform possibly  lethal jobs for their superiors and be treated horribly should they fail  to work or try to resist.

One young man in particular named Erik  Lehnsherr watched just as miserably as his fellow Jews and began to  notice that many of the other prisoners had brands on their arms. As  soldiers began coldly leading their prisoners away from the group,  Erik's parents Edie & Jacob were forcefully separated like the rest  from their son, with Edie being particularly hysterical about having to  leave her child.

Erik raced after his parents in an effort to see  them one last time, but the gates closed before he could get a chance,  and another Nazi grabbed the boy to keep him under control. However,  something miraculous happened. When Erik fruitlessly reached out towards  the gate, it began bending towards him. Another Nazi aided his fellow  soldier in detaining the boy, and two more raced towards him as the  fence began twisting more and more.

Erik's mutant powers awakened  that day as the gates were ripped open with a mere stretch of his hand,  but he was quickly stopped with the butt of a gun to his head from a  fifth soldier. "Bring ihn zu Dr. Schmidt." that soldier commanded his  subordinates. The four Nazis nodded and dragged the unconscious boy  away, to where his destiny would soon be realized.

--

"And  that's where you first met his mom, right?" Kitty asked her captor.  "Yeah, I don't think we need to hear how she ditched you again."

"As I stated, the story is much deeper than that," Magneto said. "Allow me to continue."

--

Soon,  HYDRA had come to assist the Nazis in stopping the Howling Commandos  and the Crystal Gems from instigating the Auschwitz breakout. As Rose  began fighting off soldiers, she began counting off the fleeing Jews.  "Let me see how many we got," Rose muttered while trying to do a  headcount. "Agh, there's too many of them! I can barely keep count when  I'm surrounded like this!"

"Less than a million!" Garnet counted  for her leader with her future vision. "However, there are still a few  that we were too late to save, namely the Lehnsherr family. Klaus  Schmidt is holding their son Erik."

"Klaus?" Rose soon came to a  realization. "That was the boy in the office! I have to go ba-" Before  Rose could finish, a HYDRA enforcer took advantage of her letting her  guard down and fired with an anti-Gem weapon, poofing her form.

"Rose!"  Pearl exclaimed while rushing to the deactivated gem lying on the  ground. While Captain America covered for them with his shield, the Gems  made a hasty retreat. "But what about those other Jews?!" Amethyst  exclaimed. "A few prisoners should take this from here." Garnet  answered, just as the Sonderkommando charged at their captors with guns,  knives, axes, and grenades.

Inside the building where Klaus  Schmidt was stationed, the mutant Jew slithered around the hall to avoid  being caught again. Nazis raced outside to combat without once taking  notice of the boy making his escape. Taking a moment to peek outside the  window, he noticed the Gems escaping the concentration camp and  furrowed his brow angrily. "Sie haben mich verlassen."

As the  warfare continued, Erik quietly made his getaway with his newly awakened  mutant powers and used a wrecked chain fence to fly himself away from  Auschwitz.

--

Many years later in  1963, Magneto was holding a demonstration in New York to make a speech  about the superiority of mutants when she showed up again. Rose Quartz  had decided to show her face to him again after leaving him to rot all  those years ago in Auschwitz, and only now, she shows up with an excuse  to try and make peace.

"You can try to rope yourself into my good  graces all you want Gems," he growled, preparing to fight the Crystal  Gems. "But nothing can ever change the past!"

Ripping a nearby  water tower off its supports, Erik prepared to smash it on top of Rose,  Garnet & Pearl, but then came a loud shriek coming from the Irish  mutant Sean Cassidy, aka Banshee. "Top o' the mornin' to you ladies!"  Banshee exclaimed and let out another scream that brought the master of  magnetism to the ground. "Now Neal!"

"I got you!" the Indian  pyrokinetic Neal Shaara, or Thunderbird to his teammates, boomed while  turning his body into plasma and landing a few hits on Magneto, but the  German fought back by expanding a force-field that pushed him back.  "Longshot, Angel, Mimic, it's all you now!"

"You got it!" Longshot  replied while standing on a rooftop with Mimic and Angel Salvadore and  preparing to throw a large knife at Magneto. "Just got one shot at  this." He muttered to himself just as Amethyst hopped up behind him.  "Hey, what you guys doing?" she asked the three mutants, catching  Longshot off-guard. "Do you mind squirt?!" Longshot barked, but then he  noticed her gem. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know those three, right?"

"We  can discuss it later!" Angel said while sprouting fly-like wings and  flying off. "Hey, wait for me!" Mimic exclaimed, copying his teammate's  power by growing insect wings of his own and soaring after her.

"You  guys wouldn't happen to be like ol' Maggy over there?" Amethyst  continued asking Longshot, who harshly shushed her while trying to keep  his concentration. "Okay, sheesh!"

"Now Longshot!" Banshee  exclaimed as he let out a loud shriek at Magneto to knock him  off-balance, allowing Longshot to fling his knife at the evil mutant.  But Erik stopped the blade before it could reach his face with his  powers and threw it right at Pearl with a wicked grin.

"Pearl,  no!" Rose cried out as she dove in front of her confidant, letting the  knife stab her instead, causing her to ultimately poof and retreat into her gem.

"Rose!" the remaining Gems shouted, racing to protect  their leader's inactive gemstone from Magneto. "Well, that should do  nicely for now." He snidely muttered. "But know this Crystal Gems, we  shall meet again someday soon. Even if we have to wait years to do so!"

With  that, Magneto zoomed off into the sky and left the Crystal Gems &  the X-Men below. "So, sorry about letting your boss end up like this."  Longshot nervously apologized. "That was my knife he threw at her after  all."

"It's alright. Rose will recover soon." Garnet assured the mutant. "By the way, I didn't get your name."

"Call  me Longshot, leader of the X-Men!" Longshot proudly replied. "These are  my teammates; Banshee, Mimic, Angel Salvadore, and Thunderbird. We're  all mutants."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Thunderbird greeted,  extending a hand to Pearl. "Mutants? I think I remember meeting one, centuries ago." Pearl replied, shaking Neal's hand. "You wouldn't happen  to know anyone named En Sabah Nur?"

This revelation caused the  X-Men to gasp in shock. "Wait, you met Apocalypse?!" Mimic cried. "Let  me guess, you guys know him as a real bad guy?" Amethyst quipped. "Yeah,  he's about yay tall, superiority complex, total Darwinist." Angel  replied. "Come along. We can tell you more about him."

"And maybe  we'll introduce you to the professor too." Banshee added happily. "We'd  be glad to meet your professor." Pearl agreed, and Garnet & Amethyst  nodded as well.

--

"So that's how the  Gems met Xavier!" Steven realized. "But how come you remember that last  bit happening? You left after poofing Rose."

"Don't think about  it." Magneto assured him. "And now that I have you in our clutches,  watching Doctor Doom experiment on you will be so satisfying."

"But still, you can't just vent your vengeance on a kid!" Kitty exclaimed.

"Yeah,  this isn't what Xavier would want!" Steven replied, forcing Magneto to  drop his stoic façade. "He knows you can be better than this, barring  the terrorism. You're both on the same wavelength when it comes to  protecting mutants, but kidnapping one of your own for your own sake is  just wrong!"

"Y'know, that does seem like something Charles would  say. Though he would've said it better." Magneto relented, pressing a button on the cell to let Steven and Kitty out. "Fight them off while  you still can children. I shall take the blame myself."

"Okay Steven, let's get outta here!" Kitty declared excitedly. "And no matter what happens, I got your back!"

"Actually  Kit, I think I got yours." Steven replied, just as another door opened,  and Mystique stepped into the brig. "Erik! Why have you let the  prisoners out?" she asked Magneto. "It was the boy who convinced me."  Erik revealed. "As it turns out, he's quite good at turning people to  his side."

"Well, you're too late child." Mystique said to Steven. "We have finally landed in Latveria."

--

The  Crystal Gems, X-Men, Fantastic Four, X-Force, Spider-Man, Scarlet  Witch, and Quicksilver all marched to the Blackbird, ready to go out to  Latveria and save Steven & Kitty. Human Torch and Cyclops were in  charge of piloting the plane while Xavier planted his wheelchair in the  back.

"So tell us what we're in for Reed." Garnet asked Mister  Fantastic, who gave a sharp sigh of regret. "You should know by now that  Doctor Doom is our family's greatest adversary. Intelligence on par  with my own, mastery of the mystic arts, psionic abilities, the works."  Reed explained. "But what I'm sure you probably don't know yet was that  we knew Doom long before he turned out like this."

--

"Victor,  have you gone mad?!" a younger Reed yelled at his college classmate  Victor, who was standing in front of a large machine generating an  unstable portal. "This machine is highly unstable and could explode at  any moment!"

"I do not care what it takes, Richards!" the man who  would be king of Latveria cried as the machine was on the verge of  self-destructing. "This is the only way I can see my mother again!"

"Hey  Stretch, we got everyone outta here!" Ben Grimm, back then a normal  human being instead of a large rock creature, called for his classmate  while he, Johnny and Sue burst into the laboratory. "You gotta come with  us!"

"No Reed, we can see our mothers again, together!" Doom  tried convincing his rival. Reed hesitated for a moment, weighing his  options between escaping with his friends or getting to see his late  mother Evelyn again. But as he made his decision, he turned away from  Victor. "I'm sorry Vic. But I've moved on."

"How dare you?!"  Victor screeched, while his four contemporaries fled the scene. "Don't  you dare run away! We could've been something more!" Just then, the  portal machine has just about reached its boiling point, and caused the  lab to explode with Doom inside. The last thing he said before the room  collapsed on him was a scream of "RIIIIIIIIICHAAAAAAAARDS!"

--

"Never  saw him again after that incident. Ol' Iron Mask got expelled, then he  just vanished offa the face of the planet." Ben regaled in the present  day. "That is until he re-emerged as some young upstart billionaire  named Victor Domashev, who funded the space flight that made us into the  Four we are today."

"Hey guys, less backstory, more blasting  off!" Amethyst snapped her fingers. "Pretty sure Steven might be on his  way to being dissected by now!"

"Yeah, and a certain author friend  of ours wants to get this out as quickly as possible." Deadpool agreed,  his medium-aware comment inciting odd stares from the others. "Can we  move onto the next scene already?!"

--

As  Mystique had declared, Steven was now in the European country of  Latveria, famously ruled by the Fantastic Four's arch-nemesis Victor von  Doom. He and Kitty were led through the aesthetically medieval capital  city Doomstadt, where its citizens whispered in German, Hungarian and an  unknown third language reminiscent of the latter dialect.

"Victor, we have brought the child. And an unwanted guest." Mystique announced  in front of Doom's castle as they crossed the drawbridge. The castle was  guarded by numerous robot soldiers that bore Doom's face, all of them  giving Steven cold and unfeeling glares as he was finally brought before the man who's face the robots bore.

"Steven Universe." Doctor  Doom boomed, resting on his throne while the boy was handcuffed in front of him. "I have heard much about you these past few months child. Erik,  I must commend you for getting the job done, although I've heard of  your possible betrayal and won't tolerate it." Then Doom turned to  Mystique. "Thank you Ms. Darkholme for alerting me of this before you  arrived.

"You are most kind Doctor." Mystique thanked him with a bow. "We hope you return your end of the bargain and grant us mutants  sanctuary in Latveria."

"Raven, you must listen!" Magneto cried to  his second in command. "This boy calls himself a mutant, just like us!  We can't just let Victor experiment on him like this. What if he has  something else planned?!"

"SILENCE!" the king of Latveria roared.  "It seems this child has made you soft Mr. Lehnsherr. No matter." He  rose from his throne and stepped towards Steven & Kitty to give them  a good look. "He shall become useful to me soon. And as for the girl, take her away."

"Yes your Highness." Mystique complied, snapping her fingers to have Juggernaut take Kitty away.

"Hey,  put me down!" Kitty hissed, struggling to break free from the massive  mutant's hands, which was easier said than done since her powers were  still restrained. "Don't worry Steven, I'll find a way to save you!"

"Ah  shaddup!" Juggernaut groaned loudly, stuffing a big finger inside the  smaller girl's mouth to keep her quiet when Mystique put a hand on his  bicep. "And what do you want Bluey?"

"It's about Erik. We may  resort to terrorism to fight for mutant rights, but I think allowing a  child to be experimented on may be going a bit too far." Raven whispered  to Cain while they moved farther away from Doom. "Besides, he is a  mutant much like us."

"So I've heard." The Juggernaut muttered. "But shouldn't he count more as an alien because his momma was one?"

When  the Brotherhood mutants left the throne room, Steven was left all alone  with Magneto and Doom. "What do you want with me Doom?" Steven asked the king. "Was it really necessary to have the Brotherhood kidnap me  when you could've had your robots do it?"

"Why I couldn't have  just sent my Doombots doesn't matter." Doom declared. "But what does  matter is what I want to do to you. You see, you're special Steven, as  you probably know. A being who's a mixture of human and alien DNA, and  that alien DNA might prove very important to me." He explained to  Steven. "I wish to use those genes for my own ends. Perhaps make an army  of similar beings, or perhaps become part-Gem myself to gain ultimate  power! Which is why I chose you in particular."

"Doctor, an  invading ship is approaching Doomstadt." A Doombot announced as it  walked into the throne room. "Shall we send out the reinforcements you  selected?"

"You may, #1961." Doom replied, pressing a few buttons on his arms that opened a door, and behind it were four supervillains.

Trapster, a man in goggles with a container of glue-like substance on his back, attached to a hose with a gun at the end.

Mole Man, a deformed midget in a green suit with a blue visor who was holding a staff in his hand.

The  Puppet Master, a bald, dark-skinned man accompanied by a pair of  human-sized marionettes in the shape of the Human Torch and the Thing,  that he controlled with a special remote.

And the Wizard, a purple armor-wearing supergenius who floated in the air with special anti-gravity discs.

"Frightful  Four, it seems we have some uninvited guests." Doom revealed to the  four villains. "I insist you deal with them at once, while I make my  little guest here at home."

"Yes Doctor." The Frightful Four said  in unison, then the marched out of the throne room to battle. Once again  Steven was alone in the throne room with Victor & Erik, and the  former was all too eager to get things started.

"Now then, shall we begin testing?" Doom asked Steven maliciously, and Steven replied with a very nervous gulp.

--

After  three months of work, it's finally done! We're getting close to the end  of this guys, and I couldn't be more excited. But for now, I think I'm  gonna take a little break to focus on college stuff for a bit, and I'll  be back soon with not just a new chapter, but also a brand spankin' new  Steven Universe tale I've had on the brain for a while. It's an AU  rewrite of Steven Universe Future aptly named Steven Universe: Alternate  Future. If you want to know more about this upcoming series, I've  already got an entire episode list on my DeviantArt page along with  drawings of some original characters created for it. Until we meet  again, toodle-oo!

In Loving Memory of Sean Connery

1930-2020

& Alex Trebek

1940-2020

[thejudgingtrash]

Now hold up I would personally love to hear a full rant on this supposed adaptation I have never heard of until now. Like, legitimately, I wanna know what you have to say about this cause you seem to be one of the most valid PJO blogs

Uhhh what??? Me one of the most valid PJO blogs??? What kinda crack have you been smoking WHAT afahsgjskdh.

But still thank you 😊🥺🙈

Alright, you wanted a rant. You got a rant. Fuck the positives let’s just straight up jump into my aggression.

WARNING: Massive rant with a lot of swear words. If you can’t handle the heat, feel free to ignore this. I personally haven’t worked in Hollyweird, but I had some behind the scenes stuff here in Europe going on for a short period and also the trusty words of my college professors. So here will be a lot of prediction and speculation involved. Yes, I know that I’m a huge hypocrite for voicing my opinions based on stuff that hasn’t been pushed through in months and that I could be easily proven wrong in a few weeks/months. Still thank you should you actually take the time to read through this tomfuckery.

If things are wrong, please DO correct me!

Links to further reads will be included partially.

TL;DR: Keep your hopes to a low, stop harassing people online and mAnAgE yOuR eXpEcTaTiOnS!!111!!

Okay. First things first:

DISNEY

DOESN’T

GIVE

A

SINGLE

FUCK

ABOUT

YOU

Disney is a fucking multi-billion dollar corporation with many, many, many studios, stations, brands and franchises worldwide. The Percy Jackson franchise is a dime in a dozen. Disney doesn’t give a single fuck about the PJO fandom in general.

Disney doesn’t give a fuck about you 20-something year old with your 9 year old blog discussing which toilet paper brand Percy uses. And Disney also doesn’t give a fuck about you 16 year old, writing the worst fucking Solangelo fanfic I’ve read so far on this hellsite. Like goddamn.

Trust me, they know you are interested. They know they got you hooked. They see the numbers, they see the like/reblog ratio, they see the Twitter engagement. They see you with #disneyadaptpercyjackson. They see the petitions, they see how excited you were for the musical. You don’t get to be a gigantic conglomerate like Disney with playing stupid.

Also to you fuckfarts saying oH nO I wOn’T wAtCh It I dOn’T cArE aBoUt NeW sTuFf. Congrats dipshit. You are STILL alerting followers and people about what’s happening and creating more buzz, giving more awareness and adding to the transaction costs. You really cheated the system, you little edgelord. Again:

You are nothing but a number. You are a fucking walking dollar bill. You are a consumer waiting for a new shiny product to fill the void in your life for 45 minutes weekly or by two hours at some point.

The PJO movies 1. & 2 happened for a reason. Because Fox saw a popular book series á la Harry Potter, Twilight (and The Hunger Games) and wanted a piece of that action. They wanted your fucking money. Them entirely fucking up and ignoring Riordan’s advice is on them of course. But still. The movies happened. (And also saw people saying they were flops. Reception wise: hell yes. They are awful adaptations (not per se awful movies, there’s a difference). But money wise?? They made together over 245 million dollars in profit. Of course, that isn’t today’s Marvel level but it’s still fairly decent. Also don’t forget that the second movie still got greenlit. Interest was still there despite part one. You disliking something doesn’t turn it into a flop)).

Again, Disney doesn’t care about you. THIS is what Disney cares about:

1. MONEY

2. PROFIT

3. ENGAGEMENT

4. TOTAL GROSS

5. CONVERSION RATES

11. …. “Artistry“

So in terms of money, we gotta speak about the on-going woke culture. You know, lgbtqia+ stuff, poc representation and all the good shit we want and need in our life, right?

Well, I got bad news for ya. Disney being money hungry has its massive downsides. Because where is the money? In the east. Well and what happens if we include the woke stuff? Possible censorships (even retroactively! You know Gravity Falls went through that), bans, etc.

So all of you talking about representation and artistic vision and being bold and brave and blablabla… Throw that into the fucking trash. We can probably be glad if we get Grover back as the token black kid and a few other minorities sprinkled here and there. Open gay Nico? Doubt it. Your afro-latino Percy head canon? Definitely keep that but unlikely to be realized. And also, if you think that Annabeth wouldn’t get turned into the blandest whitest “I dOn’T nEeD nO mAn“ radfem, I got some bad news for ya…

The likelihood of everything being dumbed down, toned down with the exception of a few adult jokes or being even partially censored (depending on certain regions) is very, very high.

Also what makes you think we’re even getting close to the Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo saga? I doubt you will see The Seven for a long time unless Riordan really says fuck it and throws his final ace card into Disney’s filthy greedy mouth.

So if Disney doesn’t have the fandom’s interest at heart, what are they interested in? Well… MONEY. Also NEW engagement. They know your funky ass is going to tune in. They know people will pirate the shit (Me waving like a maniac), they all KNOW that. Again, they aren’t stupid.

So: MORE engagement. MORE money. How do we get even more engagement? By luring new people into the fandom. Who is most likely going to get lured into a family friendly show/movie series because let’s not forget that we’re talking about Disney+? The targeted audience of the books. Who is the targeted audience of the books? MIDDLE SCHOOLERS. 11 to 14 year olds. Disney wants those kids’ (well their parents’ hard earned) money. They want to sell products, in that case books + Disney Plus subscriptions + possible merch. There you also have the likely future rating for the fucking show. Sorry to disappoint everyone that was hoping for gritty Game of Thrones filled with 12 year olds (like seriously wtf?).

Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about the outlook on the show/movie and Riordan’s influence that you people clearly overestimate.

How much power or say does Rick Riordan actually have?

ZERO. ABSOLUTELY NONE.

He’s in the worst fucking lose-lose-situation you could imagine.

Disney owns the books and Fox owns the movie rights. Wait. Fox got bought. By whom you ask? DISNEY, what a coincidence! In Rick Riordan’s own words:

Disney has him by his fucking balls and could crush them at any minute. And if you think, that Disney is letting go of that sweet sweet intellectual property you are fucking mistaken. Riordan isn’t a J.K. Rowling who OWNS the Wizarding World. You have no idea what Disney are capable of with massive lobbying that goes so far to influence copyright laws in the States (LINK)

So you can stop harassing him about a fucking Netflix adaptation as well! Or petitions that do nothing but annoy people.

These negotiations take up YEARS to get the simplest stuff done. No need to shit your pants whenever Riordan’s tweeting stuff.

Still: would Disney be fucking mad to do this without him? Absolutely!

Should Disney involve him to prevent a PJO movie 2.0 scenario?

Yes, they definitely should!

But CAN Disney do this without him?

OF COURSE THEY CAN! THEY OWN EVERYTHING.

In Riordan’s own words:

Read carefully what he has written. He doesn’t say he’s going to halter productions, he’s saying HE WON’T BE A PART OF IT. This also makes me curious about WHO approached WHO in the first place (my guess Disney tried to make some amendments because Fox ain’t shit and trying to alienate the author again would be a goddamn stupid move). Disney has the fucking film rights. Of course they can pump out shit without involving him. They could pull a Fantastic Four (the awful 2015 version) just to keep the rights and for the fuck of it.

There are the following possibilities with Riordan’s involvement:

1. Riordan as a producer: Dude’s gotta be loaded. We know that. But backing the production costs many, many, many millions and I don’t know if he’s THAT loaded. Also film producing isn’t his forte.

2. Riordan as a screenplay writer: Now we’re getting closer to something. Yes, many productions these days have authors directly involved which is great! But also can go the other way around (J.K. Rowling and her Grindelwald fiasco. Author’s do NEED to learn when to stop intermeddling with their franchises, just saying) Book writing and screenplay writing are two very DIFFERENT disciplines. You don’t have the liberties of book writing when it comes to film. The screenplay is the guide for the entire production, the visuals, the set design, the whole atmosphere of the product, the very first thing that needs to be done so that directors, designers and lastly the casted actors know what they have to do. Everything has to come to a point in a very short time and there are many, many, many versions of a screenplay before a final raw draft gets handed out. If that isn’t in Riordan’s interest (which I can completely understand) then that’s simply not happening

3. Riordan as a guide: Directors, screenplay writers, etc. sit down with Riordan on a regular basis to show him the written screenplay, which actors they have in mind, the whole vision and he has a mini veto right.

If you ask me, a mix of scenario 2 and 3 is the most likely to be the most successful. That means, that Riordan needs to have a good faithful team, that sticks closely to the source material. That isn’t guaranteed! Again: look at the PJO movies. But of course, we don’t know the internals of these meetings.

So… now the final part. The whole fucking “Animation vs. Live action“ debate. Well, both sides have their pro’s and con’s. And both sides are filled with a bunch of fucking morons. I won’t try to get you to either side.

But to those that want are begging for a live action version with age-appropriate actors I have the following to say:

FUCK

YOU

IN

PARTICULAR!

WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT CHILDREN TO GO THROUGH THE HELL THAT IS DISNEY AND THE SHADY SHIT GOING ON THERE SO THAT YOU CAN BE ENTERTAINED FOR SOME MERE MINUTES?!

Oh my god…. You people REALLY really want a fourth wave Me Too movement in 15-20 years. Not every Hollyweird kid has a helicopter parent hovering around them on set and many do get abused/robbed by their parents. And the people involved in the production! Of course, animation has still a chance of this happening but the risk is somewhat lower when it just comes to voice acting.

Tbh, I actually wouldn’t mind an aged-up cast again just to prevent this as best as possible. Unfortunately, child actors will always be needed.

I have nothing much to add to this, I’ll just drop a link to an old small post from me about that right here (LINK)

Personally I lean more towards animation but in the big picture I won’t care. (Also the whole animation is for kids and dumbs down the whole narrative for PJO is fucking stupid, boo boo the fool. You being in your late teens/twenties and grown out of the targeted audience is the cause of nature. Animation can be mature or would you show Attack on Titan or South Park to your 8 year old cousin?)

I’ll be just tuning in to see if this is as messy as I’d expect it to be or to be pleasantly surprised.

Also again: this process is a long one. It’s going to be exhausting, depressing, demanding, pushing.

From the meetings now that will take a very long time, to a screenplay, which can take YEARS in finalizing, to hiring staff, location hunting and set design (should they go the live action route), to casting, to costume design, to rehearsing/production, to filming, to dispersing, to editing, to fx, to finishing, to marketing, to publishing, NOTHING IS SET IN STONE! This is a very, very, very, wanky process despite contracts and everything on paper. Let’s not forget, Disney can afford some good lawyers.

And even if everything goes as smoothly as possible. Higher up people could see the final edit of everything with editors having scenes close to the books in an a/b/c/d cut and some producer says NO! I want an c/a/b/d version that again fucks up the dynamics of the books. Or something terrible: everything is shot and done and THEN it get’s postponed. Or even fucking worse: SHELVED to be NEVER RELEASED. Aka Henry Selick’s career after Coraline (Coraline from 2009 is STILL his latest release because of his fucked up Disney contract and them cancelling his shit). Millions of dollars wasted and we won’t get to see ANYTHING. This is all very possible and happens constantly in the film business AND at Disney. This is nothing new.

And there’s nothing we can do about it. No one cares about Riordan, no one cares about the books, no one cares about the fandom.

DISNEY holds the cards. DISNEY gets to decide. Neither Riordan, nor you nor me hold ANY power in this.

So kids… what have we learned today? In conclusion:

Keep your hopes to a low, stop harassing people online and mAnAgE yOuR eXpEcTaTiOnS!!111!!

That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say.

WHEW.

[c-is-for-circinate]

Okay, by popular demand...

(This is not a fic.  This is simply a set of highlights around the prologue/introduction of what would be a fic, if my brain worked and I could write and I actually wanted to bear the shame of having my first an only proper CritRole fic be a crossover with the Dragonriders of Pern.)

There are many, many ways Vox Machina could exist in the 2000+ years of Pern’s known history.  This is what happens when Keyleth of High Reaches Weyr is born, the only daughter of Weyrwoman Vilya, rider of gold Aramenth, and Weyrleader K’rrin, rider of bronze Zephrath, in late fall of the year (or, as they say on Pern, fall of the turn) 998, precisely ten turns before the fifth Pass of the Red Star is expected to send Thread down across the planet for five decades to come.

In 1004, there are four turns to go until Thread is due to fall again, and it feels like forever. 

In the deep tropical heat of Ista Island, Vex and Vax sneak through the deep undergrowth that’s been allowed to spring up in the past two centuries, hide in the tiny narrow places where only a pair of skinny agile little eleven-turn-olds could could go.  They giggle together, and Vex finds the wild redfruit trees and overgrown berry patches, and they sneak back to their mother grinning and covered in dirt and sticky fruit juice at the end of every day. That’s how the look on the day they steal out of the jungle to find an enormous bronze dragon sprawled on the hard-packed dirt around the cothold, and a tall, imposing man they barely recognize talking to their mother in the doorway.  His frown gets even deeper when his eyes settle on them. “I’ll speak to the Lord Holder about seeing that greenery is cleared soon,” the man, who’s bronzerider S’dor, who’s their father, says.  “It’s a hazard that close to a hold, during a Fall.” “It’s not dangerous!” Vax protests, and Vex looks longingly and desperately at their little patch of beloved jungle, and their mother says, “now, children,” and the man who they’ve seen every handful of turns for all their life so far who is their father says, “Elaina, you can’t pretend this isn’t their best chance to become something that matters.” “How do you know they’ll be any good for your dragons at all, if you disapprove so much?” their mother asks quietly, and their father smiles smugly, proudly, and says, “They’re my children.  The dragons will take to them.”

In the high, windy northern peaks of High Reaches Weyr, in the middle of nowhere at the top of the world, Keyleth stands on top of the ridge surrounding the great Weyr bowl, on top of the Eye Rock with her arms raised up to the sky, and closes her eyes, and imagines she can fly. She is not quite six yet, and strong arms catch her easily as she leaps down from the Star Stones, before she can crash and fall.  Her mother chuckles in her ear, and her mother’s dragon chuckles in her head, just as it’s been for her entire life, just as it must always, always be.

In 1005, there are three turns to go, and it feels like the shadows are lurking right around every door, nipping at every heel, hurry-up, hurry-up-get-ready, hurry-up-hurry-up-before-it-goes.

In the tiny little Healercraft cothold outpost a day’s walk out from Telgar Hold, on the edge of the great grassy plains that blanket the middle of the continent, Pike waits for her grandfather to get home with her lip bitten between her teeth and her heart in her throat.  There have been bandits on these plains as long as she can remember--as long as Wilhand can remember, as long as anyone can remember.  What are they going to do when the empty sky opens up and they aren’t safe any more? Pike is fifteen and alone, and she re-labels every pot of numbweed and vial of felis in their stores, and cooks much too much for dinner for even the two of them, and eats almost none of it, and lingers too long packing up the rest to store, and waits, and waits, and-- “Hey, this the one?” asks a deep, rumbling voice she’s never heard before, and there’s a scuffle by the door.  Pike goes to answer it with a bread knife in hand almost as long as her forearm and finds the tallest, broadest boy she’s ever seen, carrying her bloodied grandfather in one arm. “What did you do to him?” Pike demands.  She barely comes up to this boy’s chest, but that just means she’s at good stabbing height for the softer things farther down, and she’s spent half her life learning every detail from her grandfather to tell her what those soft things are. “Nothing!” the boy protests.  “Nothing, I swear it.”  He’s lying, Pike thinks, but there are bruises across his face and he’s slurring his words, and Wilhand is waving weakly at her to put the knife down, and the night is closing in cold and fast. “Well you can’t stay out there,” she says, and sweeps them both inside as if Thread’s due in a few hours instead of a few turns.

In the warm, safe halls of High Reaches Hold, surrounded by fur and velvet and wood and thick, safe stone walls, Percy lays on his stomach under a table in the Lord Holder’s private library, surrounded by scrolls and hides and actual bound-paper books, and reads, and listens, and learns. He is nine, and that is more than old enough to eavesdrop on “Well, if it’s too dangerous even to travel, we’ll never get the younger ones fostered out when they’re old enough,” and lay out his maps of Pern, and plan.  The Smithcraft Hall will be too far to travel overland when Thread starts, if they wait for him to be old enough to apprentice ordinarily.  This safety isn’t forever.  They’ll need to take advantage of what they have while they can.

In 1006, there are two turns to go, and nothing will stay still, not people or dragons or time, not anything.

“Scanlan...” says the Masterharper, exhausted and despairing and not moved one whit by Scanlan’s broad grin.  “Fine.  You’re too good a Harper not to promote you and too terrible an apprentice to let you stay around here and corrupt the younger ones.  You’re a journeyman now.  Go...go journey.  Somewhere.  Anywhere.” “Anywhere?” Scanlan asks, glint of mischief and joy in his eyes.  The Masterharper sighs. “I will make two requests of you, Scanlan, just two,” he says.  “The records all say we have less than two turns of freedom before the Falls start up again, and while the Lord Holders and the Weyrs have been hard at work for a decade making sure the larger holds and crafthalls are ready, the First Dragon only knows what it’s like in the smaller cotholds they’re sure to have lost track of.  When you inevitably slide your way into those little holds, can you please make sure they’re keeping to the Teaching Ballads and understand their duty?” “Secondly, can you check in, just, half a dozen times a Turn, at least, please?” he asks.  “Whenever you come to a Hold or Crafthall large enough to host an actual, stationary Harper, can you send word that you haven’t died terribly in a ditch somewhere?”  He pauses, and then adds, “Or if you have died terribly in a ditch somewhere, so we can at least warn others away from the ditch?” “Your wish is my command, oh Masterharper-of-mine,” Scanlan agrees grandly.  “After all, it’s only my duty as a Harper.” He doesn’t bother to wait for further instruction; the Masterharper knows better than to waste his time giving it.  Scanlan already knows where he’s headed.  There’s a tiny band of traders heading out of Fort this afternoon, too small for anyone as grand and self-important as a Craftsmaster to pay attention to.  Dranzel will be happy to have a Harper along to do a bit of tuning on the road.

“No,” Vax says, and only that, only no, and Vex grabs his wrist and his hand and tries not to cry.  Their mother’s cothold and half the jungle around is scorched bare, a clear line of sight cut down straight to the coast and the little cove where the pirates left trash and bodies when they took lives and everything else worth taking.  It must have been so much easier to notice the little settlement from the water, with all the greenery so obediently slashed back. “We’re done,” Vax says, “I’m done, we’re done with dragonmen, they let this--” “No,” Vex says, now, pulling all her grief and horror and despair and fear and fury into a tight, tiny little ball right in the center of her chest, small enough to carry.  He’s right, but it’s the middle of winter, a month before Turn’s End, and they might have the skills to get by on Ista Island for the three days it took a dragon to find them again, but not up north, not right now.  He’s right but they’re thirteen, and Vex only knows so much about surviving away from people, and Vax doesn’t know anything at all besides theft and stealth and secrecy. He’s right, but Thread is due in two turns, maybe one, a turn and a half, who knows?  It will scorch them down to the bone, as dead as Mother, if they’re caught out in it.  It will scorch holds and fields just like this one if there aren’t dragonriders to fly it. “One more clutch,” Vex says.  Weyrwoman Tirelda’s gold is due to fly any day now.  It’ll be spring, by the time the eggs hatch and she and Vax are rejected again.  It’ll be warm enough to go north.  They’ll be fourteen by then.  “Just one more.”

[phykios]

the marble king, part 5 [read on ao3] [rated m for Adult thoughts]

“We sail East,” she said, indicating their direction on the crude map she had drawn in the dirt of Piraeus Harbor, “following the path of the Argo as it sailed towards Colchis. Once we have passed through the straits of the Bosphorus , then we shall turn North, hugging the western edge of the Pontos Axeinos as we travel to Olbia.”

Percy frowned, squinting, leaning in closer in his crouch so as to see better. “Olbia? I have never heard of that place before.”

“Few have,” she said. “It has been abandoned near on a thousand years, which will make it the ideal place for us to rest a while once we have arrived. From there on, we will travel upriver on the Danapris , for roughly three days' time, until we come upon the rapids.”

He started. “Rapids?”

“Yes, Perseus, rapids,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You know, the portions of the river which are suddenly much faster than the parts surrounding it?”

“I do know what rapids are,” he snapped. Moreover, he knew how dangerous rapids could be, both within the river and without it. “You never mentioned that we would have to navigate through rapids.”

“What, are you so worried that your powers will fail you so far from the sea?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed. Oceans were, certainly, more his forte, but he could more than handle a mere river. “I simply would have liked to know beforehand that I must sail through rapids.”

“I am telling you beforehand.”

He scowled. “How many?”

“Seven.”

“Seven?!”

“And you will not have to sail through them; we will portage our ship around them, as the Varangians did.”

He stared, perturbed. That was her foolproof plan? To carry their boat from one end of the river to another? “You do know that will put us in considerable danger, yes? What is to stop us from being attacked by some wandering barbarian?”

Her lips twisting, he could sense that he had won a point in their little repartee, much to her frustration and chagrin. “As I have said,” she spoke through gritted teeth, as though he were an imbecile, “the river road has long since fallen out of use. We will just have to pray that we are lucky.”

Raising his eyes to the heavens, Percy was starting to wonder if Annabeth was not, as she claimed, truly a daughter of Athena. “We will have to be more than lucky,” he said. “You know that your route will take us straight through the heart of Ottoman territory.”

If they followed her plan, then as they sailed the Bosphorus, they would have to travel right past Constantinople and the Golden Horn--not only that, they would have to travel unseen and undetected, for Prosphorion was surely littered with Ottoman ships and soldiers. For all their talents and strengths, should they be spotted by an enemy sailor, the two of them simply could not hold back an entire navy.

“Then we will rest at Sigeion the day before,” she determined, drawing a short, thin line in the sand, “and proceed after sunset. Once we have traversed the straits, we can keep to deeper waters until we pass the mouth of the Istros .”

The Istros was quite far along up the coast, a fact with which, he knew, she was well acquainted. Did she expect him to be able to create fire on their vessel so that they could cook fish, in order to avoid making camp on unfriendly land? “This is insane,” said Percy. “Your plan is--lunacy, Annabeth.”

When she raised her head to look at him, his breath nearly caught in his throat.

He had, as of late, come to the unfortunate realization that the woman who traveled with him was quite lovely. More than lovely, in fact; she had always been rather pretty, but in the short time they had been together, he was beginning to truly understand just how beautiful she really was. In fact, though he would be loath to admit it out loud, for even though the gods had vanished, he knew all too well what the consequences of such a brash action would be, he would go so far as to say that she was, perhaps, even more beautiful than any of the sea nymphs whom he had romanced in the past.

The sea nymphs all tended to favor his own coloring, with deeply tanned skin and glossy black hair. Annabeth, by contrast, had long, blonde locks, which, even dirty as they were, shone gold in the sunlight, neatly woven and pinned up to the back of her head, stunning in its simplicity. Surrounding her face, little gilded wisps of hair would escape her braid in the oppressive humidity, tightly coiled. Her skin was smooth, her mouth a comely shape, her neck long and graceful as a swan, and he knew firsthand just how strong she was. Those slate grey eyes peered at him, ringed with long, soft lashes, such a strange counterpoint to the hardened desperation which shone from them, wrinkling her forehead.

“I know of no better way to Svealand,” said she, the breath almost barely leaving her body. “If we were to travel over land, we would still encounter the Ottomans, or the Latins, or the Franks, or whatever trouble the Fates would see fit to send our way. This way, on the Danapris, is the fastest, safest road I can imagine; well worn but out of fashion, we can follow the river all the way to the Northernmost seas, and then make our way to my father’s home. And,” she blushed, and Percy was once again transfixed by her visage as roses, red and soft, blossomed on her cheeks, winding their way down her neck. He swallowed. “I thought--I mean, with your skills at navigation, I assumed--”

She did this for him, he realized then. She had selected a route which she thought would not only remove as many obstacles from their path as one could possibly account for, but would also grant him some measure of comfort and power in this strange land and even stranger time. The dissolution of their rivalry, the end to their parents’ legendary feud, she had taken it to her heart.

He blushed in turn, his pulse racing. “Right,” he said, his tongue dumb in his mouth. “Yes. Of course. I can… yes.”

It was no longer a simple question of whether or not he could, but rather a question of how skillfully he would. Annabeth was counting on him to see her safely home, and he would be damned if he let her down now.

Though, he did have one additional concern. “Will our ship be able to sail upon the river?”

As one, they both looked towards the little monoxylon which bobbed in the harbor. The little ship, which Percy had privately taken to calling the Empress , was as crude as crude could possibly be, given that they had crafted it in a matter of days, helped along by some of their divine talents. It was, in all honesty, barely more than a dugout canoe, with a very primitive sail and rudder attached, but between the two of them, it had been solidly made. She was a sturdy ship, and fast, though that was, perhaps, more a function of Percy’s skill as a sailor than any testament to their combined aptitude for mathematics.

All water gave him strength, but no water sustained him more than that of the sea, which was at once his birthright and the source of his power, so despite any perceived bravado on his part that he may or may not have displayed, the thought of sailing so far upriver was… unsettling. He never liked to be far from the sea if he could help it.

“I don’t see why not,” she said, shrugging, seemingly unconcerned, though not well enough, as he had become so attuned to her body that he could see the tense line of her shoulders. “The Norsemen would sail their longboats back and forth with all of their crews and cargo; ours should be considerably less trouble, no?”

Well, she was not wrong. “Very well,” said Percy, standing up from his crouch, reaching for the sky as he stretched. With a satisfying pop of his spine, he sighed, dropping back onto the balls of his feet, looking down at Annabeth, who stared up at him, her cheeks still flushed. “Shall we proceed?”

Standing as well, with a swipe of her foot, she erased her map. “We shall.”

And thus, they were off.

***

With the wind at their backs, Percy was able to shave roughly a day’s time off of their return journey to Sigeion, though, as they did not have an estimated time of arrival, he supposed, in the grand scheme of things, it did not matter much. The only tangible outcome at this time was that it put them in the path of the Ottomans that much sooner.

As before, the sea was uncomfortably empty. Not still, for the water was ever flowing, the waves ever undulating, nor entirely devoid of life, for there was still fish a plenty to be found and eaten, but empty in the sense that some vital or integral component was missing from the whole. The winds and the waves were still there, but they felt incomplete, almost, the colors not quite as potent, the salty tang not quite as strong. It was as though he were left alone in someone else’s home after they had stepped out for a moment, a strange glimpse into a world in which he did not truly belong. All around him, the sea birds stood watch, gazing on him with cold, sightless eyes, watching impassionate as he passed beneath their gaze, heading ever eastwards.

With little fanfare, they passed over the spot where poor Helle had lost her life, as Annabeth was entirely embroiled with her weaving. He had not liked to watch her sulk, so withdrawn after they had departed from Athens, that he had given her something of a silly task to keep her occupied, and asked her to make them some more rope. Rope was never a thing to have too much of out at sea, and it gave her something to do with her hands. If he was being honest with himself as well, he would admit to enjoying watching her face as she wove, her furrowed brow, her pink tongue poking through her lips.

Making camp once again at Sigeion, Annabeth laid herself down for a nap in the shade of a tree near the shore, extracting a promise from him that he would allow her to take the night watch as they sailed that evening, for Percy had, by his own admission, been running himself somewhat ragged these past few days. The sea gave him power, yes, but he was not as infinite as he claimed, and even he required rest from time to time. However, as they cast off from shore that night, he found himself loath to wake her as she slipped into a deep sleep, for once not tossing and turning from the horrors that plagued her dreams, her face slack with exhaustion.

It was merely one more night. He would persevere.

And, perhaps, he thought she might not wish to see Constantinople like this.

Even in the dark, the broken walls were lit up with torches, the towers raised with poles of black horsehair, flying alongside red flags adorned with yellow crescent moons. It must have been time for evening prayers, for the singer’s voice carried past the walls of the city and over the still waters, hauntingly beautiful as always. How strange, he thought, that he could not find it in himself to hate this sound, even though the men who sang it had taken his city for their own.

It was well into the dawn when at last, Annabeth awoke, her eyes slowly fluttering open. “Good morning, your majesty,” he could not help but jest from his position at the rudder, injecting as much humor into his tone as he could.

“Percy,” she mumbled, sleepily indignant, as she rubbed her face. “You promised you would let me take the night watch.”

“I did,” he agreed, thinking quickly, for he did not want to show his hand, “but we caught an excellent wind last night, and I did not want to miss it. I swear to you, as soon as we sail into the Pontos Axeinos , I shall relinquish command and take my rest.”

“See to it that you do.” She yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “Where are we?”

“We are coming up on the end of the straits,” said Percy, adjusting the length of a rope. “If this wind continues, we should pass through to the sea within the hour.”

“Excellent.” Making her way from the other end of their ship, she came up beside him, leaning over the edge to peer at the water as it rushed beneath them. She adjusted remarkably well, he thought, for someone who was not used to sailing; on a vessel this small, people were prone to all manner of seasickness. “How fast can this thing sail, do you reckon?”

He frowned. “I am not certain,” he said. “Why?”

“We will need to make all possible haste if we are to survive the Symplegades ,” she said, with an unconcerned air.

“The Symplegades ?” he asked.

She fixed him with a strange look, but one with which he was intimately familiar; it was the look that she gave him whenever he had done something she found particularly foolish. “The clashing rocks?” she said, as though that offered clarity.

He did not recall such a thing, and he shook his head.

“Honestly, phykios , how is it that you were able to slay the Titan king, and yet you still somehow lack the most basic knowledge of our history?”

“Because I know that you will tell me of it,” he quipped.

Her face twisting, she turned away, reaching for her unfinished project. “Then allow me to enlighten you; the Symplegades are the rocks through which Jason and his Argonauts sailed on their journey to the court of King Aeetes.”

“And why, if I may ask, do we need to make all possible haste?”

“The rocks strike one another whenever a ship passes between them. The boats are either crushed between the stones, or they are smashed upon the beaches when they are caught in the monstrous waves.”

“How wonderful.” Now that she had said it, of course, he did start to recall the particulars of that story. “Jason escaped unscathed, did he not?”

“He sent forth a dove in his place to measure the speed at which they must sail, and then he matched it.”

“Excellent. And you have a dove, I suppose, tucked away in your skirts for this very purpose?”

She glared, harrumphing, her lips turned in a frown as she diverted her attention back to her ropes. “Legend holds that the rocks were permanently frozen after Jason made his escape, but you know as well as I how these things come round again. Monsters never truly die, and as the cycle must always continue, surely these perils will as well.”

Peering over the edge of their boat, it did not look as though the water were any more or less dangerous than at the other end of the passage, held in the grip of the Ottoman navy. Nor did he hear any odd sounds, no noises which were not the gentle susurrations of the waves, or the cries of seabirds, or the billowing of their sail. If there were enormous, thundering rocks at the mouth of the Bosphorus, he could see no evidence of it.

Before very much longer, the coasts surrounding them began to widen, edging away from their craft as the land gave way to the mouth of the Pontus Axeinos . Annabeth lifted her head from her weaving, making her way to the bow of their boat. “Here,” she said, “we shall soon be upon the rocks.”

She gave no order for him to speed up or slow their pace, so onwards they continued, steady, serene.

“Any moment now,” she murmured. “Any moment.”

Percy tensed, preparing himself, Annabeth’s strong rope twisted in his grasp.

“Be ready!” she called back to him, all her attention focused ahead.

“On your mark,” he replied. Whatever their animosities, at this time he would happily defer to her command.

They sailed onwards.

They met no resistance.

Confused, Annabeth looked back, glancing behind them. Percy looked as well--they were well past the mouth of the straits, heading unimpeded in the open waters.

“Shall I turn North?” he asked.

“I…” Disturbed, nearly pale despite the warm dawn light, she looked back and forth, from bow to stern, searching for a solution which simply did not present itself. “Yes,” she said, after a moment. “North.”

“Very good.” And he pulled the rudder, changing their course.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Where were the rocks?”

“Well,” Percy said, slowly, unwilling to upset her further, “you did say that the rocks were stopped. Perhaps they never came back to life.”

She fixed him with a look he could not bear to see on her face; bewildered and hurt, desperate and angry, a mosaic of sorrow and confusion crossed her lovely features. “Have you ever known a monster to stay dead?” she asked. “Any one at all? Pasiphae’s son returned to fight for the titans. The Furies chased you across the peninsula, even after death. Why should the Symplegades be any different?”

With nothing but a thought, he commanded the vessel to sail itself for some time, for he was very tired, and he had been promised a rest. “I do not know,” he said, settling down on the least lumpy pile of their supplies for a morning nap. “My father’s court deserted, your mother’s temple neglected--who is to say that the monsters have not abandoned us as well?”

Hearing no answer, he closed his eyes, letting the motion of the waves rock him to sleep. As he drifted off, he thought he heard the strangest sound--a mighty boom , like the crack of thunder, though he could not sense any storm on the horizon. Perhaps, however, he was merely imagining things.

***

Percy had never traveled so far North in his entire life, and he did not enjoy it. The air seemed colder, almost, and harsher, the sun beating down on them, and yet providing no warmth nor comfort. Even the stars at night were strange, for while he saw the constellations of his youth-- Chelae , the claws of the scorpion, Cynosura , the dog’s tail, and, of course, the Huntress herself--but he could not see them as clearly as he once had. As the words on a paper scroll or a wax tablet, the stars would rearrange themselves before his very eyes, forming shapes he could not identify, until his vision swam and his heart would ache too deeply to continue looking.

All that, and the ever-present threat of the Ottomans, of course.

Yet Annabeth was right, as she often was; once they passed the mouth of the Istros, the Ottoman presence noticeably dropped, until, after an entire week had gone by without a single hint of another ship in the horizon, Percy had to admit that they were well and truly out of that particular danger, though he could not even begin to imagine what might lie ahead.

It was many days until they reached the ancient settlement of Olbia. He had tried to keep count, but the days slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving him adrift in the sea of time. Perhaps it had been months since the fall of Constantinople, or merely days. He could no longer tell.

That night, once again, they made camp in the long shadows of an abandoned city. Their fire flickered against a squat stone wall built into the side of a hill, its vaults and ceilings long since destroyed. Percy took one corner, and Annabeth the other, sharing their meal of bread and fish. They had been sailing for so long, even he was beginning to feel it, his muscles so sore and aching that he almost could no longer feel them. When he glanced at Annabeth, she looked very much the same, staring into the heart of the flames with an almost empty, vacant gaze, the flickering lights reflecting dully off her golden hair. She was exhausted. They both were.

“Some water?” he asked.

She shook her head, so minutely that were it not for the flames, he would not have thought she moved at all.

Several days earlier, they had put to port in a town along the coast, a little seaside trading post with a white castle resting on top of the nearby cliff, a town which Annabeth had thought was called Mavrokastron or Moncastro or something similar to that. Having not heard Italian in several weeks, it had been something of a shock to the system to hear it spoken this far from Constantinople, though he was pleased to see that his rudimentary language skill had not yet been forgotten, as he was able to purchase a few more supplies for the road ahead. Being the son of a very famous fisherman, Percy could very easily be relied upon to provide the two of them with meat should they require it; things like bread and cheese were somewhat more difficult to procure on their own when constantly on the move. Acting on a whim, he had, with his leftover funds, purchased some dried fruit as well, something to save for a particularly hard day. Looking at Annabeth now, it seemed her hard day was well upon her.

“Here.” He passed her the food parcel, laying it at her feet. “Help yourself to some figs.”

She did not pick it up. Were it not for the fact that he could very clearly see her breathe, see her blinking, she may as well have been a statue, propped up against the wall.

Percy looked down to the shore, where he had tied the Empress to a nearby tree. She bobbed sweetly against the gentle tide, her sail fluttering in the nighttime breeze. “I think,” he said, carefully, for he knew from past experience that suggesting things contrary to Annabeth’s grand plan could result in disaster, “that we should take one more day here.”

No response.

“Just one, mind you. I could do a few more repairs on our ship, catch some more fish--and I can almost certainly promise you that we will need more rope.”

Still, she said nothing.

“Very well,” said Percy. “I shall take your silence as assent, and shall begin work on the morrow.”

“Fine,” said Annabeth, her voice barely more than a puff of wind.

“Oh, so she does speak! And here I thought that you were so repulsed by my very presence that you could not bear to engage me in conversation.”

“I am not ignoring you,” she said, “I am merely tired.”

He snorted. “Indeed. You must be exhausted after all that sailing you did.”

At any other time, Annabeth would have seized upon the chance to trade barbs with him, unable to resist the siren song of taking her mortal enemy to task. But not tonight, it seemed.

“What is it?” he asked.

An Annabeth who would not rise to his bait was a disturbing sight, indeed. He would rather have a traveling companion who would not cease in her berating, her irritation with him, her constant, acerbic comments towards his parentage and his intelligence, than this corpse who sat before the fire.

“I thought…” she murmured.

“Thought what?”

With a sigh, she tipped her head back against the wall, watching the smoke rise. “I truly hoped she would be in Athens.”

“Your mother?”

She nodded. “I--I think I knew, deep in my heart, but I did not want to believe it. When you told me of your father’s empty halls, I had this… sinking feeling, in my chest, this feeling that something was wrong.” Bringing her hand to that offensive spot, she closed her eyes. “I did not realize what it was until we had passed through the clashing rocks unharmed.”

“Realize what?”

“That you were right, Percy. The gods, the monsters; they have all of them abandoned us.”

She had admitted that he was right; once upon a time, he would have thought there could be no greater reward, but now he would have given much for her to take it back. “You do not think it to be a coincidence?”

“I do not see how it could be otherwise,” she sighed, folding her legs beneath her. “I cannot remember the last time I went so long without encountering a monster of some manner or another. The two of us, together? It should, in theory, present an irresistible target. Do you not remember our first quest together?”

Despite the myriad and multitude of terrors that they had encountered as children, thrown together by a cruel twist of fate, time had transformed a few of the horrors into fond memories. “How could I forget? We had barely left the borders of camp before the Kindly Ones descended upon us.”

Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but he thought he saw her lips quirk up in a smile. “And we destroyed that poor man’s wagon.”

“Smashed it to bits,” he confirmed. “The first of many.”

Annabeth, almost reluctantly, chuckled. “We have shared many an adventure, haven’t we?”

“And once again, we find ourselves on another epic quest.”

“But it is not merely another quest,” she said, her face once again sad and drawn. “There is no hero’s reward waiting for us at the end this time.”

He raised his water skin at her, in toast. “Here’s to your safe delivery, then, as that is all the reward that I shall require.”

“Well,” she said, reaching for the parcel of food at her feet, “my father is not without money. Should he still live, I am certain he would be happy to provide you with some measure of compensation.”

“Wonderful. Perhaps by the end of our journey, I will divine what to do with it.”

She hummed, thoughtful as she nibbled on a bit of dried fig. “What will you do,” she asked, “after we reach Svealand?”

Laying out his sleeping roll, he shrugged. “Become a sailor, I suppose,” he said, “if I cannot find Chiron and his students. Or perhaps I shall make my way to Aachen after all; Iason and Reyna promised me I would always have a place with the Legion.”

“You and your precious Legion,” she scoffed, though there was something darker underlying her tone, something cruel, and hateful.

“What you have against the Legion, I shall never understand,” he said, resting his head on the grass. “They are a good people; what’s more, they are our friends and allies.”

“The Legion were the ones who stole the Parthenos ,” she said, bitter as sour fruit. “Just one of the many, many insults they have levied against my mother over the years.”

“Those men have long since passed,” said Percy. “Whatever your feelings towards them, the Legion of today is a far, far cry from the men and women of Troia .”

Her brow furrowed, she shook her head, incredulous. “They stole you , Percy.”

“They did not steal me, they found me,” he corrected. “Were it not for them, I would have died a thousand times over.”

“And as thanks, you begged them to brand you as a slave, I am sure.”

In truth, he had not had much of a choice in that matter. It all had happened so quickly; one moment, he had fended off an invasion of giants, and in the next, their augur had grabbed a hold of his arm, and the mark had appeared in a flash of light and pain, indelible proof of his service to Rome. In time, he had come to accept it as part of him, and to ignore it as such. “This is just their way, no more or less strange than our yearly talismans,” he said, though he had a feeling such a weak argument would do very little to convince her.

“It is not the same,” she insisted. “A necklace can be removed. You are marked for life, and as a romanus .” And at that hateful word, she spat into the dirt.

“There is much worse that I could be than a soldier of Rome, Annabeth,” he said, quietly, for that was what he was still, was he not? Though he no longer fought with the Legion, he had spent his last years as a soldier for another relic of the once great empire.

She tilted her head, almost curious, were it not for the mocking gleam he could detect in her eye. “What would they offer you to betray the Hellenes , hm?” Folding her hands in her lap, she leaned forward, a cruel smile stretching across her pretty face. “A province to govern? A seat in the Imperial Senate? Or perhaps a pretty Roman bride, awaiting you in your villa in Aachen? On your return from Svealand, will you find Reyna at your hearth, or any other Roman lady?”

It was not an unfamiliar accusation. Similar taunts had been levied at him before, by his less understanding comrades at camp. “No,” he said, dully, “I am not interested in a Roman bride--nor is a Roman bride interested in me.”

Her brows shot up. “Now that,” she said, “I cannot believe. You mean to tell me that you spent so many months among the Legion, and yet not one girl thought to snap you up as a husband?”

As a child of the elder gods, Percy was set apart from his peers in a few small, but rather distinct ways. There were certain powers he possessed, certain tricks and charms that he could utilize, and certain statuses that he would not claim that he did not enjoy, from time to time. Unfortunate as it was, for womenfolk, they often found themselves in the unenviable position of having to secure for themselves a good man for a husband, one who could provide status and comfort both, and all the women Percy knew were very, very clever. They knew what to seek in a partner, and they tended not to be shy about their intentions. More than once had Percy been approached by one of his fellow campers, who thought that she might cultivate quite a match for herself, as surely a son of Poseidon and a hero of Olympus should make for an excellent husband. Alas, once they had discovered that he had little more to offer than a mortal fisherman could, they elected not to pursue him further.

On the whole, he did not mind it terribly. He did not speak of it often, but he had always wished to follow in his mother’s footsteps, and marry for love, rather than for politics or protection. Had he been married to a woman he did not care for in that manner, he predicted that he would be a poor husband indeed. It would not be fair to either of them, he thought, unless he was as truly devoted to her as she was to him.

“I was no more a choice for a woman of the Legion than I would have been for a woman from the agoge ,” he said finally, after some time. “And there is none that I have known, either.” He smiled, indulging in a memory.

She raised an eyebrow. “You have never lain with a woman?” she asked, voice dripping with ill-concealed contempt.

“No mortal woman, no.” For he had had the good fortune to romance a nymph or two, a goddess here or there. There had been Calypso, on the island of Ogygia; Thetis, in the court of his father’s palace; a nereid or two with particularly pretty smiles and delicate wrists. The immortal women he had known did not require much of anything from him beyond his time and his affection, which he was more than pleased to provide… and occasionally his tongue, as well.

“But a mortal man?” asked Annabeth, well and truly curious now.

He froze.

Percy was not ashamed of much in his life, and he was most assuredly not ashamed of the time he had spent with Iason. He had been a good man, handsome and strong, and he had found Percy equally as beguiling as Percy did him. Theirs had been more than a mere soldiers’ romance, and he held no shame in his heart at the things that they had done to each other. Yet for some reason, he did not wish to divulge this information to Annabeth. It was not, he knew, because he thought she might shame him for his choice of sexual partner; at the agoge it was quite common to hear of a man lying with another man, or a woman with a woman. As their ancestors had done, mighty names such as Achilles, or Sappho, or even the gods themselves, so too did the half-divine children of the Hellenes not always limit themselves to the opposite sex.

No, he did not wish to share his name, because he did not want to hear her heap further scorn on his Roman allies.

“Yes,” he said. “I have.” And that was all the information he shared.

“I see,” said Annabeth, coloring lightly. “You are one of those sorts of heroes, then.”

He started, something hot bristling in his stomach. “How do you mean?”

“Like Achilles and Patroclus,” she said. “Or Alexander and Hephaestion.”

Who would feel shame, to be included among such vaulted company? Certainly not Percy. “And if I am?” he asked, raising his head. “Would that present a problem for you?”

If it did, perhaps she would get her wish, and would leave her to travel alone after all.

“Don’t be foolish,” she said, with a withering glare. “Of course not. I simply… did not realize.” She was flushing again, visible even against the dim firelight. Annabeth, he had noticed, tended to blush with the whole of her, her body curling in on itself, crossing her arms and looking away from him. “I--find it difficult to believe, is all.”

“What?”

“That you did not pursue a relationship with Rachael.”

Confused, he sat up, frowning. “You know she is obliged to be a maiden, yes?”

“I meant before then.” Beneath long lashes, she glanced at him for a single, sweet moment. “I know you two were close before she became Apollo’s priestess.”

They had been, the summer of the great prophecy. Struggling beneath a burden to rival that of Atlas, Percy had sought some measure of escape from the camp and from his destiny, an escape which Rachael had provided to him. She had granted him a dream and a fantasy, a small sliver of hope in a time when all those around him had been sure that he would perish come summer’s end. Even Annabeth would sometimes look at him as though she were preparing to weave his funeral shroud once more.

That summer, things had been very strange between the two of them, Percy and Annabeth. She had been struggling, he knew, to come to terms with the deep betrayals that Lukas had committed, and she had not been as kind to Percy as, perhaps, she had meant to be. He had forgiven her for it, of course--he in turn had not always comported himself so properly--for they had both borne their respective weights, and had not always supported each other as friends and allies should. More simply put, Rachael had been there for him, when she had not.

“No,” he said. “We had considered it, but…”

But Rachael had been cleverer than he, and had eventually turned him away, with a knowing grin, bidding him instead to seek out someone else.

Someone whom he had known since he was a boy. Someone who had weathered all sorts of storms by his side. Someone who had defied her mother and declared her allegiance to him, should the gods ever force their children to fight against one another. Someone who even Rachael could see that he had long admired.

Lying back down, raising his eyes to the stars, he said, “I did not feel for her as she did for me,” a simple summation for a complex time, and one which he prayed she would understand, and then leave it be. “And so we remained friends.”

And, well, he had thought, after the war, after the funeral games for those who had fallen in battle, once peace and serenity had returned to their borders… he had wondered. Perhaps he had even hoped.

Unfortunately, not four months later, he had gotten entangled with the Legion. By the time he made his way back to Chiron and the Hellenes , it appeared that Annabeth had grown to hate him even more strongly than she had when they had been children. For her, the Latins were an even more hateful enemy than the children of Poseidon; one could, apparently, be overcome, but both together? Unthinkable, in her eyes. And so these two, thrown together by circumstance, had been pulled apart, until the distance between them was so great, he had been sure that Annabeth had been lost to him forever, and had thus let her go.

Then, of course, the Fates had seen fit to bring them together again--though, for what purpose, he could not possibly imagine.

For a few minutes, there was silence between them, no sound save for the crackling of the fire, and the quiet movement of the waves.

Then, Annabeth said, “Hm.”

Percy turned his head towards her. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing.” With efficiency, she spread out the remains of their fire, so that it would burn itself out while they slept, and set about unrolling her own bedroll. “I was merely thinking that I would have won the pot, is all.”

Oh, he did not think he liked at all what she was implying. “The pot?”

She stilled, her bedroll unfurled halfway. “I’ve said too much.”

Unfortunately, she did not need to say much else. “The Stolls, I presume?”

Annabeth smiled at him, though it reminded him more of a pained grimace.

Rolling his eyes, he flopped back down.

“It was a very eventful summer,” she said. “You cannot blame them for attempting to lift our spirits with a little harmless fun.”

“Need I remind you that everyone was under the impression I would not survive the war?”

“And yet, here you remain.” A little ungracefully, she stretched out next to him, giving a great, massive yawn, and he turned towards her. “A gift for which the men of the Legion were very grateful, no doubt.”

His eyes widened. “How did you--”

She glanced at him with familiar contempt. “If you had lain with someone from the agoge ,” she said, as though she spoke to a simpleton, “everyone would have heard about it before breakfast the next morning.”

Ah, the children of Athena. Impeccable logic, as always.

“Very well,” said Percy, his cheeks heating up. “Since I have divulged such personal secrets, it is only fair that I am privy to some in return, no?”

Snorting, she turned over on her side, away from him. “I agreed to no such terms.”

“Come now, Annabeth,” he whined. “That’s not very sporting.”

In truth, he had spent many years wondering what sort of man had caught her fancy, after the likes of Lukas, whose appeal Percy understood all too well. He’d spent too many years in her orbit to not want to know what kind of a person could win her heart. Now that they had reestablished their acquaintanceship, would anyone blame him for mere curiosity?

“Give me a secret worth sharing, then.”

The moon, bright and beautiful, hung low in the sky. By the light of the fading fire, her hair shone like copper, her shawl settling around the curve of her shoulder, her hip, fabric folds like the stars of a constellation whose shape he had only just discovered. For one single, delirious second, he thought--he considered telling her the truth, a truth so deep and powerful, yet unknown to him until this very moment. The truth, that his youthful admiration had become his first love. The truth, that though it had faded alongside their friendship, it had never truly gone away. The truth that now, in this moment, as he lay next to her on their bed of grass and earth, it blazed with more passion than anything else he had ever known.

He swallowed.

“If you had asked me to, I would have followed you to the Morea,” he said, “and supported your claim to the throne.”

After a second, she rolled over to look at him. Her eyes were dark and piercing in the moonlight, her gaze enchanting and unreadable.

“Is that sufficient?”

He may as well have just come out and told her that he loved her. It felt like he was admitting the same thing.

Her mouth twisted, not quite a smile. “And they all claimed that you were no strategist,” she said.

That was… not the reaction he had expected from her. “How do you mean?”

“Ingratiating yourself to your future empress; very clever indeed, Perseus.”

“I am being sincere,” he said.

“And I do not doubt it. You would have pursued an action that you know would have resulted in a great reward, had we succeeded.”

Frowning, he lay down on his back, closing his eyes. “That is not why I would have done it.”

The silence stretched between them, long and empty. She must have fallen asleep, he thought. He could open his eyes and see for himself, but he stubbornly kept them shut. For whatever reason, he could not disturb the fragile space between them, every hard won inch, he knew, so easily shattered by a misspoken word or an imprecise countenance.

So softly, he thought he might have imagined it, he heard her say, “Clarice.”

Slowly, he turned to look at her.

She lay on her back as well, her gaze pointed squarely at the stars. The fire had nearly burnt out, but her skin and hair still shone in the moonlight.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked.

“The first person I had relations with was with Clarice.”

He blinked. “Clarice.”

“Yes.”

“The daughter of Ares.”

“The very same.”

Of all the revelations he thought she might share, he had not been expecting that one. “You know I have to ask.”

The corner of her lips quirked up in a smile. “She was stronger, but I was faster. Her hands, however--very big.”

Percy had seen Annabeth throw men twice her size across the arena. He had seen Clarice shatter shields with her magic spear. The thought of the two of them, together, in that manner, was…

He shifted, attempting to find a new and more comfortable position for his hips. “Athena and Ares,” he murmured, half in a daze. “Who would have thought?”

“And not just her--Yekaterina as well.”

“Really.”

“Mmhmm.” He could not see in the dim light, but he thought she might have been blushing again.

He chuckled to himself, smiling. As she knew him of old, he knew her, and he knew that she was not one to divulge such details so lightly. Despite his pride and his self-assurance, it was always a deep, deep comfort to know that there was someone else who enjoyed the company of men and women both. To think, despite all their differences, how similar they were in their fundamentals still.

“Thank you,” he said. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And without much further ado, he turned over, and he went to sleep.

Immediately, he knew he was dreaming.

No longer in the shadow of the ancient stone wall, now he lay upon rich velvet rugs and brilliantly ornate pillows, woven with thread of gold and silver, the fabrics dyed deep blues and purples. All around him was the scent of saffron, mint, and honey. And the woman next to him… the woman next to him…

On the top of her golden head rests an equally golden crown, studded with precious gems of red and blue and green--the tiara of the Basileia , he knows it to be. She smiles at him with her silver eyes, her ruby lips and pearly teeth, lifting a delicate hand to him. Just below her ears, from which dangle a pair of lustrous, jeweled earrings, her hair comes down in two long, thick, even plaits, over her shoulders and her breasts, which Percy now realizes are bare. He and the mighty Roman Empress Ana Zabeta, for that is surely who she is, lay side by side, she entirely unclothed save for the crown on her head.

“My love,” she murmurs, trailing her fingers up his arm, “why do you hide yourself from me? Do you regret this time we have together?”

“No, my lady,” he finds himself replying, not in control of his actions in this fantasy. “Of course not.”

“Then come closer, phykios , and kiss me.”

And he would not refuse an order like that.

Her lips taste of wine and honey, her skin is smooth as marble. Acting on an instinct he did not know he possessed, he brings his hands to her small breasts, rolling a nipple under his thumb, and is rewarded with her ardent sigh, a deep, throaty moan which vibrates into his own mouth. Braver now, he crawls on top of her, and knows he has done the right thing by the smile which presses itself to his chin. Then he is the one who is kissing her neck, and he travels further down, a road map of her body, kissing every inch of her he can reach.

“Yes,” she whines, so sweetly, the further down he goes. He kisses the skin at her hips, squeezing the soft flesh of her ass, and she moans again, sweeter than any music. “Yes, Percy,” she cries as he brings his mouth above her center, pressing his nose into the beautiful golden curls there, and breathing deep. “Percy,” she groans, “Percy, Percy--”

“Mm?” He muttered, his face mashed into the dirt.

“Percy.”

He blinked, the cold sunlight streaming directly into his eyes, disorienting. “Wuh…”

“Wake up.”

Raising his head a little, he was greeted by the Annabeth more familiar to him, who was busy starting up their campfire, her curls thrown wildly by the morning wind. “You said that you wished to make repairs to the boat this morning, did you not?” she asked.

“Ahm--yes, I--let me just…” It came to his attention, suddenly, that he was quite erect, his cock pressing into his bedroll, and he was liable to try to make love to this cloth if he were left alone with his thoughts for a minute longer. “Let me… relieve myself. Yes.”

She grunted, entirely absorbed in her task. Thank the gods for the gift of half-blood focus, he thought.

With an odd sort of waddle, he made his way over to a small group of trees. When he was certain she could neither see nor hear him, he freed himself from his trousers, working quickly to bring himself to completion, among the sounds of morning birds, the scrape of his fingers on tree bark, his choked, bitten off groans as he fought for his silence.

It did not take him very long.

[empathy-lynx]

The Mark of Athena Timeline (SPOILERS) -Made by Yours Truly-

2010 (Year 5 in Riordanverse)

June [MOA BEGINS]

• 25th (right after the ending of SON) - the Argo II arrives; Annabeth gets reunited with Percy; they have a welcome feast in New Rome and the Prophecy of Seven is briefly discussed; Leo takes Octavian aboard the Argo II; Reyna talks alone with Annabeth; possessed Leo attacks New Rome and the Argo II and its 8 man crew (Coach Hedge included) escapes somewhat safely, with Hazel on Arion on the ground; evening = after Leo does a damage report, they land in Salt Lake City to make a pit stop (as well as pick up Hazel) to get the supplies they need; Annabeth, Percy, and Frank leave to get tar, while Leo and Hazel leave to find Celestial Bronze, and Piper stays on board with Coach Hedge and an unconscious Jason; Hazel and Leo encounter Nemesis, who gives Leo a fortune cookie, telling him to open it when he really needs her help but says that it will have a high price; then they come across Echo who is trying to save Narcissus; Leo distracts Narcissus and the Nymphs with the help of Echo, while Hazel retrieves the Celestial Bronze; Leo and Hazel run back towards the Argo II to escape; when Jason wakes up and the groups return, they have dinner and discuss what to do and where to go next

• 26th - they land in Topeka for final repairs; Percy rides Blackjack and Jason and Piper ride Tempest to the Topeka 32 mile marker and talk to Bacchus; he tells them to find and talk to Phorcys about info on Gaea, then leaves; two eidolons possess Percy and Jason fight, possessed Percy knocks possessed Jason out, then Piper distracts possessed Percy long enough for Blackjack to knock him out; Blackjack then takes the three of them back to the ship; evening = the crew discusses events that happened, then Piper uses her charm speak to make the eidolons swear on the River Styx to leave and never come back; middle of the night = Percy has a dream of the muskeg incident, increasing his fear of drowning/suffocating, then the dream changes to the twin giants Ephialtes and Otis saying they’re gonna attack Rome on July 1st, then he sees a jar which is holding Nico captive; Annabeth wakes him up and takes him to the stables, they talk briefly about the past and their godly parents, then they fall asleep

• 27th - morning = Frank finds them in the stables, saying everyone was worried; they discuss Percy’s dream of the twin giants and Nico, then land in Atlanta; Percy, Frank, and Hedge find Phorcys at the Atlanta Aquarium, as well as Keto who takes Hedge on a different “tour”, and Phorcys reveals that there is a map in Charleston to the Athena Parthenos; he then leads Percy and Frank into a trap, which they shortly escape from when Hedge returns, and they all return to the ship, setting course for Charleston; on the way, they discuss where the map might be held, and Jason suggests Fort Sumter; evening = Annabeth has flashback of her last conversation//argument with her mother, then helps Frank out of some chinese handcuffs

• 28th - once they dock in a harbor in Charleston, Annabeth, Piper, and Hazel go search for the Ghost of the Battery, while Jason, Frank, and Leo go to search the museum for any sign of the map to the Athena Parthenos, and Percy goes into the harbor to see if there’s something to be done about the sea creatures in Atlanta; the girls find out the “Ghost” is actually Aphrodite, and they talk with her, confirming that the map they seek is in Fort Sumter right before they see Roman eagles closing in on them; as they race back to the ship, Octavian and some other guards block their path, Annabeth throws her dagger in the water, and Percy comes to the rescue; Annabeth quickly goes into Fort Sumter and finds the map that will lead them to the Athena Parthenos; they escape from the Romans and begin their journey across the Atlantic; evening = Leo and Hazel share a flashback, discovering her first love Sammy is Leo’s bisabuelo (great-grandfather); night = when they come out of the flashback, the ship is getting attacked by a sea monster; Leo, Hazel, and Frank get thrown overboard

• 29th = the three of them wake up in the ichthyocentaurs’ (fish-centaurs) realm, talk with them, then return to the ship; the crew discusses what happened, as well as the Mark of Athena quest Annabeth has to do alone; Piper and Jason clean up & fix the lower deck and talk until dinner

• 30th - morning = the crew wakes up to a cruise ship passing by and realize they are nearing the entrance to the Mediterranian Sea; Piper and Jason talk with Hercules and he sends them on a “quest” to go get Achelous’ other horn in order for their ship to pass through; they end up getting it, and going back to Hercules; evening = Hercules asks for the horn, but Piper refuses him, then buries him under a mountain of food; her and Jason fly back to the ship and the crew flies through the clouds into the Mare Nostrum; night = Percy sleeps while Jason takes first watch while they’re in the air; Percy has a dream of the twin giants talking to a figure, saying the crew will reach Rome by the next day if they get past the “golden boy”

~

July

• 1st (Jason turns 16) - 4 a.m. = Jason wakes Percy up to say it’s his turn, as they’re now in the water; Percy wakes Annabeth up and tells her about his dream; he then makes the ship stop, feeling something is wrong, then another ship comes out of the fog and rams into the Argo II; they’re attacked by Chrysaor, a.k.a. The ”golden boy”, and his crew of half-dolphin pirates; cue Percy saying their captain is Dionysus, Piper and Hazel “turning mad” by him, and Frank turning into a dolphin; the crew flees, and Percy fills the pirates’ ship with Diet Coke, offering it to Dionysus as tribute; midmorning = the crew arrives in Rome; Percy walks with Annabeth toward the beginning of her quest, Frank, Hazel and Leo go to see if they can find Nico with Hazle’s senses, and Piper and Jason stay with the ship; Annabeth’s POV = noonish = Percy and Annabeth have lunch and meet Tiberinus and his wife Rhea Silvia (mother of Romulus and Remus); they give Annabeth a ride to the beginning of her quest; she starts her quest, entering beneath the city and going deeper underground; she enters a shrine to the god Mithras, and is confronted by ghosts of his followers, and fools them into thinking she knows all; she collapses the room and escapes, but falls down a small pit, breaking her ankle in the process; after making a make-shift cast, she continues; she comes into a room filled with webs, and realize there are millions of tiny spiders following her; she runs as quick as she can, coming to the edges of a chasm, and weaves a bridge of sorts across, then burns it, the spiders no longer following her; she comes into a large room, seeing several beautiful tapestries as well as the Athena Parthenos, then meets Arachne, “the weaver”; Leo’s POV = Leo, Frank, and Hazel make it to the Pantheon, finding a secret passage; they realize there are eidolons following them, and quickly escape into the passage; they enter a room with multiple duplicates of Archimedes' inventions, including some automatons; while exploring, the eidolons possess some automatons and quickly knock out Frank and Hazel, while Leo escapes into a control room; he finds a master control panel, but doesn’t know the combination, and uses Nemesis’ fortune cookie to get the password; he ends up being able to trap the eidolons inside the machines permanently; when Frank and Hazel come to, they find Nico’s sword and figure out it was a trap leading them down there; Piper’s POV = back at the ship, Piper and Jason are having a picnic and Piper finds out it’s Jason’s birthday; Percy returns shortly after, and tells them what happened with Annabeth; then Piper looks into her dagger to find a way to the giants, then sees the vision of the three of them going down a spiral staircase; they go and find it, Percy going down by himself first, coming back up saying he found something weird; ;they all go down and they find out it’s a nymphaeum; cue the three of them almost drowning before using the cornucopia to replace the “evil” water with fresh water, afterwards the nymphs telling them the location of the twin giants; the three of them find the hideout, Percy distracts the giants while Nico escapes; while fighting, the giants say Gaea will rise in a month; Jason fights Otis, Percy fights Ephialtes, and Piper defends Nico from the released animals and monsters; the giants get defeated, but reform immediately (has to be killed by god and hero together); then Bacchus shows up, but refuses to help until Percy and Jason “entertain” him; they fight in the Colosseum, the boys nearly defeating the giants again, with Bacchus finishing them off; Bacchus then gives the location to rescue Annabeth and the crew heads towards her, on the way Nico telling them the locations of the Doors of Death: Greece, and Tartarus; Annabeth’s POV = Annabeth tricks Arachne into making her own trap (giant chinese handcuffs), with her thrashing around, beginning to collapse the floor beneath them; the Argo II breaks through the ceiling and makes quick work of getting the Athena Parthenos loaded up; Arachne falls into the pit, and Annabeth heads towards the ladder, but gets pulled towards the edge y a strand of web attached to her foot; Percy grabs her hand and he’s holding them by his fingers on a ledge; he then tells Nico to lead the crew to the Doors of Death in Greece and that him and Annabeth will meet them on the other side; Percy then lets go, him and Annabeth falling into Tartarus; Leo’s POV = back on the ship, all the crew feel like they could have done something to save the two, but Nico tells them even if Jason or Frank could fly to them, they were too far down and they would’ve been sucked in too; Nico also says Percy is the most powerful demigod he knows, and that he’ll keep himself and Annabeth safe; they then discuss their course of action and fly off towards Greece

[MOA ENDS]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MOA Prophecy

Wisdom's daughter walks alone,

The Mark of Athena burns through Rome.

Twins snuff out the angel's breath,

Who holds the key to endless death.

Giants bane stands gold and pale,

Won through pain from a woven jail.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PJO Timelines (links to TLT Timeline)

The Lost Hero Timeline

Son of Neptune Timeline

House of Hades Timeline (not yet linked)

Blood of Olympus Timeline (not yet linked)

[multifandom-damnation]

They watched Grog cut down enemy after enemy with his axe in a wall of carnage as he laughed.

They watched Vex fire arrows from the sky like a goddess, hidden in the tree brouths and darkening sky.

They watched Vax dodge the bullets fired his way from his friend’s own creation and fling his daggers into enemy skin.

They watched Keyleth survive attacks and cast spells like she had never been knocked down.

They watched Scanlan’s grin grow as strong as the spells he was casting as he cleared out the battlefield alone.

And Percy… They watched him fall.

I’m sorry you guys, I really tried to make this good. As soon as I watched the ep I knew I had to write something but guys… I’m sorry. It’s not very good. I’m so annoyed haha, this took ages. A lot of the dialogue it from the actual ep (all of it I think??) and I know it’s gonna be shitty so maybe just take that into account before you read it xx

They watched him fall.

They watched him fall the first time, watched the necklace break and shatter, watched him get back up. Watched his hands shake so badly his shots missed, watched him growl in silent fury.

The second time, they watched as Ripley shot him with his own creation, watched as he fell to his knees, then face down, watched the burning holes Ripley fired meet their mark, piercing into him, Orthax raking his claws of shadow across his chest. Watched the blood pool around his body like a cape and head like a halo he never asked for.

They watched as his body stopped moving, watched his chest stop rising. Kynan reached for him, turned him over, watched as his eyes stared blankly at the sky. The trickle of blood running along the side of his face and into his hair, dying it red.

Keyleth screamed as Vex flew down on her broom in a fit of fury and fear. Grog roared bloody murder at the spot Ripley once stood, Scanlan with his hands in his hair and silent tears down his face. Vax stood, motionless, in the centre of the crevasse, daggers dangling limply in his fingers, his legs giving out and falling to his knees as he stared at the women he loved most running over, crying next to their friend.

Scanlan moved to grab his sword, Grog yanking the Chain of Returning back a little harder than was necessary, catching his axe in a bone-shattering grip. Keyleth stands, shaking hands covering her face, Vex next to Percy on her knees in the glass, checking his pulse and shaking him. “Can you do anything? As a Paladin?” She cried to her brother, who just shook his head and placed it slowly in his hands.

The zip!, had them turning to where Scanlan and Grog stood. Grog’s axe raised high above his head, froth foaming and falling from his lips. Scanlan’s hand was up, purple energy crackling around his fingers as they watched a purple bubble form around Ripley, encapsulating her in Otilukes Resilient Sphere. She looked around, placing her hands up against the sphere. “What? What the heck is going on?”

“You can curse,” Scanlan snarled, walking closer towards her. “It’s ok. You’ve killed one of us.” He turned back to his group, his friends, his family, now minus one. “Everyone gather around her.” He shouted, waving his sword to get everyone’s attention.

Looking up in shock and horror, Vex shook her head. “I’m not leaving Percy.”

“I’m going to drop this thing, and we’re all going to fucking kill her together.”

“No…” Keyleth mumbled, shaking.

Vax finally brought himself to his feet and turned his back to his brother, dead on the ground, and faced the bitch that took his family from him. “Yes, we are.”

Ripley fired at the wall, throwing everything she had at the barrier, to no effect. She slammed her shoulder into it, shouting, raked her fingers across it, nothing. The dark shadow of Orthax rested below her, under the sphere, trying desperately to get to her.

Scanlan slowly walked over to her, sword in hand. Vax started walking as well, Keyleth catching up and reaching down with a shaking hand to place hers in his. Grog readied his axe. “Vex!” Scanlan shouted.

“No, I’m staying. I’m not leaving Percy.”

“But- “

“I’ll shoot her at a distance!”

Grog put his body right against the orb, Keyleth on his side. Scanlan made his way closer, calling out over his shoulder. “Vax, you with us?”

A moment of heart-wrenching silence and Scanlan almost turned back, “Yes.” Quietly, a breath on the wind, but full of fury. Kynan walked over and joined them as well, as far away from Percy as possible, on the other side of the orb, hands folded on his chest, head bowed.

The bard looked around at the rest of his family. “Ready?”  Keyleth’s hands were shaking, but she turned to face Scanlan when he spoke. Her eyes brimming with free-flowing tears.

Grog snarled. “When you are.” His axe was raised high, and his eyes were red with an unbridled fury.

Scanlan met the eyes of his family, met the tearful eyes of Vox Machina and with whatever energy he had left: “For Percy.”

With her hands pushing against the orb, Ripley tried with all her might to get free, but her spells wouldn’t work, her bullets wouldn’t pierce, her sharp words were dull, her screams fell on deaf ears.

“Percy’s killing you right now,” Scanlan told her, meeting her eyes and her awful twisted grin, teeth too sharp and eyes too brave. He would have to take care of that, the determined look that fooled her into believing that they would ever let her leave the island alive after what she’s done. “Not us.”

He dropped the spell, and they all attacked.

They watched her as she fell in a tangled heap of blood and vines and arrows, watched as her now detached arm fall by her head as Vax sliced if from her body, watched her insides spill out from Grogs cut in her navel, watched her neck snap from Keyleth’s Grasping Vine, watched the blood leak down her face from the bleeding de Rolo crest Scanlan had carved into her, a permeant memory of who she had taken from them.

The shadow of Orthax shudders, wavers, then dissipates, leaving the battlefield silent and frightfully empty.

The twins scouted the cave a mile off. Keyleth cleaned Percy’s cuts, washed away the blood he seemed to be drowning in and weaved flowers through his hair. Grog collected the guns from the corpses littered around the battlefield, standing on their heads until the skulls crumpled like tin-foil. Scanlan came back with a hard onyx figurine in his hand, Kynan walking shyly behind him, and the gnome looked like he was on the edge of screaming.

The twins returned, both trying to hold back tears, Vax with his arm slung around his sister and her head on his shoulder, just as Scanlan summoned the mansion and they all made their way inside with Percy resting in Grogs arms.

It was Vax who shyly suggested that they have a blanket fort, that they all sleep in together with the others’ breathing and heartbeats loud and strong in the room, comforting each other if one woke up screaming from a nightmare with Percy’s name on their lips.  The servants brought all the blankets and pillows they could find and a long ornate table. They put Percy on the table, and Vex covered him with a blanket, a pillow behind his head, and they could almost pretend he was just sleeping, would wake up once Vax stuck a slimy finger in his ear or Grog poured ale on his face.

Fireflies danced above their heads as they fell asleep, and they stared at them in an effort not to reach a hand out to grab their friend, who was just sleeping if they pretended hard enough.

The walk through the sun tree was fast, but the walk to find Pike was agony.

Percy was slung over Grog’s shoulder, the rest of Vox Machina trailing like an armoured guard around them. Whispers, gasps, crying, screams, muttered prayers, half-hearted laughter, begging Pelor to bring Lord Percival back, and Vox Machina stopped and spoke to none.

Serenrae’s temple seemed so far away.

A guard stopped them, eyes bright and mouth a large cheerful grin that reminded the group too harshly of Ripley’s twisted smirk. “You’ve returned! I- “His eyes drifted to Percy’s limp body hanging off Grog, and the words died in his throat before he could say them. “Oh.”

Vex rubbed her arms and leaned forward. “Someone should get Cassandra.” She said quietly, fighting back the tears.

Pikes face once they reached the temple made Grog bite his lip hard enough to taste blood, for Vax to look away, for Scanlan to say nothing.

“I knew something was wrong.” She whispered, brushing hair out of her face. “Where is he?��

They found Orthax feasting on the tattered and ruined soul of Percy and Keyleth severed the thread. Pike called for Serenrae. Vex begged him to come back to them.

The ceremony was hard, it was long, it was horrible, but with a torrent of crows and Vax’s wings outstretched over Percy’s prone body as though they were his own, Percy took a breath, and the holy light lifted filled the room as he opened his eyes.

He was tired, so very tired, and it had felt like a century since he had seen his friends with a beating heart of his own, but they only said it had been a day? It didn’t feel like a day. His eyes were heavy, his lungs filled with jagged glass, and Percy had the suspicion that if they were to open him up to look, he would be filled head to toe with bullets and black glass.

Even Vax who Percy knew didn’t like him- couldn’t stand him, who Percy cared very much for but hoped that Vax wasn’t foolish enough to care the same for him, was looking down at him with tearful relief with his hand in Percy’s hair and his fingers pulsing with holy light. Percy thought it must have been bad.

Cassandra came in soon later and he could almost imagine he had seen her a few days ago and not the years it felt like.

Using his gun as a crutch, he hobbled his way towards the castle, the imposing white towers blocking out the sun.

They watched him sit quietly while they talked, watched the cogs turn in his head to formulate plans, watched him start to say and stumble. Grog took a step behind him so he would hit the Goliath instead of cold hard ground and Keyleth put her hand on his arm to keep him steady.

Gilmore handed back their items and yawned, stretching his hands above his head. “Is there anything else you want me to look at before I go to bed? Because- it’s late.”

“What time is it, Shawn?” Vax asked calmly, looking at Percy out of the corner of his eye.

Looking up at the sky, Gilmore tilted his head. “Nine?”

“Nine,” Vax repeated quietly, looking at his sister, who nodded. Then louder: “Percival, you should go to bed.”

Percy sighed, pushed his hair out of his face. “Soon. I am not quite ready for sleep, and we have a lot to talk about.” They watched ideas of the up-and-coming battle flit between his quickly darting eyes and watched his lips tighten. “We need to have a discussion. Perhaps in the morning?”

“Yes,” Vex sighed, quietly, walking towards him and placing her hand on his other arm. “We should sleep. You should. You look very tired.” It was meant to be soothing, but she felt- the others watched- him flinch, a fleeting look of fear crossing his face and gone in an instant.

“We can have this conversation tonight; I’m just going to be feeling miserable for a while.” Desperately searching for any reason to not be alone, not to be secluded, isolated in his room with memories and him after being reunited with his family after an eternity, and his eyes searched their faces for any trace of pity, any form of giving in.

Shaking her head, Keyleth looked him in the eyes, and Percy looked away. “I don’t think that’s a wise idea.”

He tried, he really did, and they watched him fight, even though his eyelids were dropping and his head was sinking down to rest on his chest, watched him stumble and lean back on Grog, watched him try desperately to keep all his friends with him. But he needed sleep.

His voice quavered, and he blocked out the rest of the conversation, his head clouding with the never-ending darkness that filled him the last time he slept, those years he spent with his eyes closed and his heart stopped. His eyes opened, the darkness gone, caught the last snippet of the conversation. “It’s true, but Percy needs to get the fuck to sleep, seriously.” Vax placed his hand under his chin, lifted his face, his wings blocking out the sun from hitting Percy’s face.

Vax watched the human’s mouth open and close, words stuck in his throat. “I must admit, I… fear sleep at the moment.” Vax rubbed his thumb across his friend’s jaw as he took a shaking breath.  Percy’s eyes met his, tired and fearful.

Blocking out the rest of the others, Vax moved his hands to his shoulders, blood speckled, the fabric tarnished and unravelling, and squeezed. Percy slowly looked at him with eyes almost begging him to understand. “Nobody wants to talk to you right now. We want you to go to sleep. We’re going to go have a drink and a fabulous time. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Stumbling back to his room, Percy mentally kicked himself for not insisting he stay, not forcing himself to go with them to whatever bar they found in Whitestone, not staying in the company of his family after so many centuries of being alone with… him.

He fell face first in bed, fully dressed, fully armed, and fell into a dreamless sleep filled with the horrifying darkness and heartbreaking silence that filled with nothing but the familiar dark cackling and his pained screams, could swear that someone was waiting for him in the cold, empty, dark.

His friends came home that night, slightly drunk and tired, tiptoeing by his door as if they would wake him up, Vex sneaking in to replace his note, Vax to check his pulse and his body for holes, Keyleth to brush his hair out of his face and to tell him to get some sleep, they would be there in the morning. Cassandra entered at some point in the night and didn’t leave until many hours later, but they didn’t question it, and found Percy in the morning under the covers, in his favourite pyjamas, his guns where he is most comfortable and his clothes folded neatly or handing up in his closet.

Even the deep angry, red speckled holes in the fabric seemed to be stitched back together.

They kept their eyes on him afterwards, always had him in their sight. Even after the meeting with Rishan, his attempt at pious and calculated words failed him, his voice heavily laced with tiredness and his body giving up on him, using Grog to stand upright.

But they watched him fight, during the battle with the Frigid Doom. His shots went wide often, his aim off and scattering against the icy wall behind. His thoughts were muddled and he wasn’t sure what to do when Yenk climbed up the wall to tear into him, bleeding dark red onto the platform.

Even so, Percy reasoned with the green dragon and bargained, words strong and determined although inside, his tongue was tied into a knot, his stomach a heavy lead weight and his heart a painful stab wound as his clouded mind struggled to form the right things to say.

Back at the castle, he’d fall asleep standing, swaying into Keyleth or Grog only for the Goliath to carry him back to his bed. His mind was always going as fast as his bullets from the barrel of his gun, plans and strategies rolling around like rocks down a mountain, tumbling over each other in a panic to reach the bottom first, his words faster than his lips and his brain even faster still, Scanlan playing a tune on his shawm or his flute until his eyes fluttered closed. Keyleth would gently guide him back to his room with his half-closed eyelids, Vex would whittle arrows while Percy made bullets until his fingers were numb, Vax sat quietly with him, back to back, touching for the first time willingly and openly since the tomb as they cleaned their weapons and whispered about memories, Cass working him to the bone in the study until his hands were covered in charcoal and ink, wax caked under his nails from the wax seals and his hair a mess from where his sister had been running her fingers through it.

Every night, he still dreamt of the millennia he spent with Orthax, the terrible pain as he writhed and screamed in the smoky black grasp with the claws that pierced his skin and poisoned his blood with corruption, spirit tattering like parchment set aflame and the laughter/screaming of the voice that haunted his dreams for years. Sometimes he dreams of the Briarwood’s and the begging and screaming of his siblings, his parents, his caretakers, the glint of Sylas’s teeth and the bubbling laughter of Delilah as she hung off of her husband’s arm, purple death swirling around her fingers. Other nights it was Ripley, with her questions and her fingers and her tools, her smile as sharp as the dagger in her hand and her mind as strong as the chains that bind his legs and his arms.

It took a long, long while, but after a time, he stopped waking up screaming, stopped missing as many shots. His gun stopped giving off as much smoke with every fire. He stopped falling asleep on his feet. Vox Machina watched their brother grow stronger again, watched his change, watched him be the brave de Rolo he always was.

They watched him rise.

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Break My Heart: Chapter 11 (A Solangelo Fanfiction)

It’s here, finally! I hope you are all ready, because I know I am! Just a reminder, this fic is only very slightly canon divergent (Will having visions of the future, and I take a few liberties with some of the time line). Just a head’s up as a reminder for that. 

Read on Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Read on AO3

Preview:

“Really Nico? You can’t kill Leo!”

“Can I disembowl him?”

“No.”

“Skin him?”

“No.”

“Tear out his still beating heart and sacrifice it on the altar of my father? Use his blood as finger paint?”

“No Nico, though I give you an A for creativity.”

“This is why I hate this place,” Nico snapped. “All of you are so sensitive about perfectly reasonable things like manslaughter.”

The infirmary that day was empty, and the emptiness was eating at Will until it was nearly impossible for him to function. If he had something to do, then the silence would have been bearable. Will often found that keeping one’s hands busy was the secret to keeping the mind off of unpleasantness. But Will, as always, had terrible luck. So therefore, he was bored and dwelling on things that were probably left alone. Will spun in his chair, playing with the beads on his necklace nervously as he turned. Kayla looked at him from the desk, unimpressed with his fidgeting as Austin tapped out the bass line of Feel Good Inc with pens on a nearby chair while he listened to music on his ipod. Finally Will put his feet down, literally, stopping himself mid-swing. Both his brother and sister stared at him as Will placed his hands on his knees and offered up a sigh of defeat.

“Nico’s totally avoiding me isn’t he?”

“Took him long enough to admit it,” Austin noted as he popped a headphone from his ear. Kayla just primly rested her head on her hands and seemingly waited for Will to continue. Will groaned and leaned back.

“I thought I was just imagining things!” Will complained as he squinted up at the ceiling. “I don’t even know what I did. I thought our date went really well, he even agreed to go on another one! Gods, I must have done something. Maybe I was too hasty. What if I just was being an idiot and assuming things? Oh Gods what if he thinks I’m doing some weird peer pressure thing to him—?”

“Alright, slow down,” Kayla said as she held out her hands. “How about we don’t go into Apollo Panic Mode and try to think.”    

“Don’t tell me not to go into Apollo Panic Mode! You were just in Apollo Panic Mode when you thought Holly and Laurel shot better than you at archery!”

“Okay that is neither here nor there, let’s deal with your problems before you drive everyone crazy!”

Will had the urge to whine. To say he didn’t want to, to throw a hissy fit and then bury himself under some covers and avoid the world. Maybe binge on chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with Lou and Cecil, maybe watch some bad TV dramas with Nyssa and Billie, maybe he could cry on Miranda’s shoulder, throw rocks into the lake with Clarisse, rant to Butch or Pollux, hide in Hypnos Cabin and just nap his days away, cry into the phone to his mom or his grandpa. There really were innumerable options in front of him. Honestly, he was a lucky guy. He had family. He had so many wonderful friends at camp. This bud, this fledgling relationship with Nico hadn’t even made it to autumn so it had to be doomed. What would be the point of trying to continue on with it?

               But Will also wanted to kiss Nico. At least once.

               “I don’t really know what happened. Everything seemed fine at the campfire. But after that…I don’t know, he’s just been distant. Like, he used to follow us along to our activities and he’s not doing that anymore. Maybe I just was going too fast for him, maybe I was just too overeager,” Will admitted softly, flicking a paperclip.

               “Well, maybe the best thing is to give Nico space,” Kayla offered sympathetically. “I mean, it’s not like he’s out to the whole camp. Maybe he’s just processing.”

               “Yeah,” Will said, attempting to brush aside the disappointment. He supposed that rushing forward foolheartedly probably wasn’t the best idea sometimes.

               “Doesn’t your counselor meeting start in a little bit?” Austin asked him, and Will mustered up his best smile.

               “Yeah, I should head over. Hold down the fort for me alright?” Will asked his siblings who both nodded. Will tried to ignore their all-too-understanding looks as he left.

               Ever since the influx of cabins and campers that had occurred post-Titan War, they had moved head counselor meetings from the Big House to the Pavilion. Will was sure when most of the campers left camp the next week and fall really descended on Long Island, they would move back. But for now, the audience of counselors ranged from longtime campers such as himself, Jake Mason, and Pollux, to newcomers like the Victor siblings, recently claimed Paolo, and newly elected Butch and Piper. It certainly made for an interesting hodge-podge. Noticeably Nico was absent. Percy and Jason, who both occupied cabins of only themselves sat together playing paper football while Piper observed and added commentary to the ongoing battle.

               “Where’s Nico at?” Katie asked in their direction as Clarisse unslung Clovis from her shoulder and placed him on the table where he snoozed contentedly in his sleeping bag.  

               “He got a Iris message from Camp Jupiter. Something about the assembly I think Hazel wanted his opinion on,” Percy said with a shrug before seeing Annabeth approach with her arms full of blueprints he got up to help her. Though Annabeth made a show of looking irritated, she allowed Percy to hold some of her things. Will tried to ignore the mix of relief and disappointment he felt.

               The rest of the counselor meeting, as usual devolved rather quickly. Annabeth was presenting to the counselors the different plans she had worked up in order to provide new cabins for the newly claimed campers. Hermes Cabin on the whole was fully throwing their support behind any measure that would get kids out of their already overcrowded cabin as fast as possible. While cabins like Demeter cabin (who were also speaking for the dryads) were against clearing any more forest than necessary, and Hephaestus argued about the onus of construction work that would be placed on them. The different types of arraignments were also a point of contention. Hypnos Cabin, a new cabin that was boasting already three campers with more likely to come from other countries argued the necessity of space (with a rather impassioned Clovis who only fell asleep once), while Paolo, Chiara, and Damien who were all by themselves seemed to be fine with the tree houses or tiny houses plan.

               By the end of the meeting, no compromise had been met. But at least the plans were out. Each Cabin was ordered to take a poll of their occupants and choose the plan that they all liked the most before they would reconvene. After the meeting, Will stayed with Annabeth to help her clean up while the others all went to make sure their younger siblings hadn’t caused any damage.      

                “Will, I don’t understand how you expect the additions to make sense if we allot more space then this,” Annabeth said as she pointed out to the plans for the tiny cabins. 

“And I’m just saying, we don’t know how many children these minor gods have. I feel that it would be premature to commit to a tiny house design without considering that,” Will told Annabeth with a sigh. “Everyone deserves a little space for themselves. I mean, we barely go a week without the Victor sisters almost setting their cabin on fire as it is.” 

Annabeth looked at Will, grey eyes glinting. Her gaze was serious, as always, and Will met it. He liked Annabeth a lot, but sometimes found her to be a little on the intense side. A little too all or nothing. But her penchant for ass-kicking was something that Will admired, even if it was his butt she wanted to kick. She sighed, seemingly content for the moment and leaned back. She massaged her temples and Will found himself moving close and offering his hands. Annabeth gave him a weak, grateful smile before sliding a chair close to him. 

Just pressing his fingers against Annabeth’s temples gave Will the sensation of a tightening cord ready to snap. The start of a tension headache. Will pulled off her hair tie which was doing her head no favors and placing it on his wrist before slowly focusing on pressing the pads of his fingers against the back of her neck and pulling up to her head. He spent time to gently add pressure and release, and become acquainted with Annabeth’s muscle movements. Then, once that was all established, he began rubbing little circles from the base of her skull to her ear, applying pressure on the scalp, and massaging temples and forehead, his power welling up and soothing. 

“You have the most convenient power,” Annabeth muttered as her head fell foreword to allow Will to rub her neck and massage the back of her head.

“As convenient as a certain wisecracking aqua boy we know?” Will asked amused as he worked out a specific knot. Annabeth, like most children of Athena, kept all their stress in the head and neck. Considering their mother’s history with headaches, it wasn’t all too surprising. “I think not.” 

“I don’t think you have much interest in the ocean, how useful would you find Percy’s powers?” Annabeth asked with a raised brow.

“True, true. But does the interest occur as a correlation or causation when the power is present?” Will offered. Annabeth was seemingly struck by this line of thought, tapping her foot as her eyes glinted. 

“It’s never occurred to me,” Annabeth muttered under her breath. “It’s fascinating to think about, really. The implications I mean.”

“I’m not sure the others would think of a lack of free will in the same regards,” Will chuckled. 

“I’ll have to run this by Malcolm. He’s always thrilled to have a sound board on philosophy. I don’t tend to have much of a sustained interest in the subject,” Annabeth said as she stretched, and Will handed back her hair tie.  

“Well, I try not to think about things like that too much,” Will admitted as Annabeth stood up and cracked her neck. “In our lives, big questions don’t often beget rewards.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Annabeth said as she looked out towards the camp finishing tying up her hair. Will watched as her curls bounced, rather cutely Will had to admit. “I sometimes wonder how much our parents have to do with our natures.”

Will didn’t have much to say about that. Will had never even met Apollo before, only seen him flash by in his chariot during the Battle of Manhattan. He had received a letter from him once, a few birthday cards, had gotten claimed by him. All of these were more than some demigods ever received, but he still had no real clue of what his father was like. He had heard the stories from Percy and Thalia about his father’s bombastic and dramatic nature. Had spoken to Rachel briefly about her relationship with Apollo as the god of prophecy, though since the last war Apollo had gone silent. A punishment by Zeus still probably in the works. At times Will wondered if he should be worried for Apollo. Well, certainly he was worried since Apollo was the sun god and the world couldn’t survive without the sun. But Will found he really couldn’t worry about Apollo as his actual father, because Apollo wasn’t in his life. He was just a flash across the distant sky.

Will wondered how much of him was like Apollo. Will knew he shared a smile with all of his siblings, habits, tastes. Will really doubted Apollo ever concerned himself with Will Solace and his siblings, but he had never been able to say that to any of them. After all, when Lee and Michael had died, not once did Apollo make himself known. Did Will have that ugly selfish side of him somewhere deep down? Will hoped not. He really did.

“I hope they don’t have much,” Will finally concluded, seemingly surprising Annabeth in his answer. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

“I know what you mean,” Annabeth admitted before finishing placing her blueprints in her box. “Tell me something, what’s going on between you and Nico.”

“Uh, what do you mean?” Will asked, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation to another topic that Will didn’t really want to think about at that moment.

“Listen, me and Nico have had our own issues, but we’re good now. He’s been doing really well since he began tagging along with you and your cabin. But Percy mentioned to me that Nico’s been kinda down lately…and that has to be more so than usual mind you if even Percy’s picked up on it. So I was just wondering if you and Nico had gotten into a fight.”

“We didn’t get into a fight,” Will said as he nudged a leaf with his sandal before sighing. “I asked him out on a date.”

“Oh. Oh,” Annabeth said, obviously taken aback. “You asked Nico on a date? I mean—you know—”

“Yeah. I uh…I like Nico. A lot,” Will told her as he watched the leaf be dragged across the dirt by a breeze. “We went on one date, and I asked him on another. He’s been acting weird since then.”

“Okay, this…this all makes sense to me,” Annabeth told him as she shifted her weight between her feet obviously deep in thought. Will swore he could see the gears clicking and moving in her head, as she catalogued everything she knew into different places. “I do have to say, I didn’t think that after Percy he would go with a guy like you. Even though he swore up and down that Percy wasn’t his type, I kind of expected him to go with a guy more like Percy. Maybe a Hermes Cabin kid or an Ares Cabin kid.”

“I know,” Will said with a chuckle as he picked up Annabeth’s box. “I told him something similar.”

“If it means anything to you, I think you are good for Nico,” Annabeth said as gave him a look and Will handed her box to her. “I think you and Nico are pretty similar in some ways. It makes sense that you guys would get along.”

“You think so?” Will asked Annabeth curiously, and she just shrugged.

“I don’t really buy the whole opposites attract thing. People are always saying that about me and Percy, but me and Percy are a lot alike. Like, I don’t think I could date a guy who is okay just sitting around doing nothing. Percy may put up the front, but he’s always ready to go all in with me no matter what. And I’m always willing to do the same for him. I think that’s important, and that’s just one example. You and Nico are both serious when it comes to your responsibilities. And if anyone has seen either of you interacting with your siblings, you would know you guys were on the same wavelength,” Annabeth explained. “But of course, Nico’s a different person than you so you would need to take that into consideration.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you told Nico that you like him?”

Will stopped midstep.

“Told…Nico?” Will repeated, dumbfounded.

“Nico’s dense, Will. But more than that, he psyches himself out constantly. Nico’s probably thinking all sorts of worst case scenario stuff right now. You need to set the record straight, tell him that you like him.”

“Oh my gods you are so right. I haven’t been following my own advice,” Will said in shock before tossing Annabeth a smile. “Though there is nothing straight about this situation.”

“Holy Hera, really Will? Really?” Annabeth asked with her patent Chase glare.

“You really can’t blame me, you totally walked yourself into that one,” Will said with a wink.

“Stop flirting with me and go talk to Nico. You have to.”

               “I do. I have to go tell him,” Will realized, his heart racing so fast in his chest that he could hear it in his ears. “I have to tell Nico that I like him.”

               “I agree—”

               It was at that moment that an ear-piercing scream came from the center of the camp. Annabeth dropped the box, and Will and her raced to the center of camp. Nyssa was comforting a nearly hysterical Harley on the ground as Nico held up a scroll that had seemingly floated in on the breeze. A holographic Leo Valdez, riding on Festus’ back with a brunette beauty by his side like the cover of a terrible romance novel for moms had appeared at the center of campus. The image spluttered and faded with static but by the time Will and Annabeth were within hearing distance Will caught,

               “Love ya guys! Adios amigos, oh! And get ready for a taco party when I return!”

               And with that the imagine cut out, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. Nico pulled his hand down which had been shaking and nearly crushing the parchment in his hand but Will clearly saw that Nico was shaking—no, seething, no erupting with rage. His usually colorless eyes were terrifying black pits, his teeth were gritted, and he was steaming up the late summer air with puffs of cold.

               “I am going to murder Leo Valdez,” Nico announced his murderous intent before the various witnesses. Some of them nodded obviously very understanding of the sentiment, others like Percy and Jason face-palmed as the chaos continued to erupt.

               “Uh…maybe I’ll tell him later. When he’s feeling less…homicidal,” Will told Annabeth as he swallowed.

               “Probably a good idea,” Annabeth noted before jogging off to inform her cabin of what had just gone down.

“Why is he so angry?” asked Sherman and when he received the weird looks he shrugged. “Just because I’m a child of Ares it doesn’t mean I’m always angry without a reason. For example I’m always mad at Ellis because he’s a dumbass all the time.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Ellis grumbled, casting Cecil a look as Cecil cackled under his breath. Lou Ellen jabbed him in the ribs 

“I think that’s why,” Lou Ellen pointed out. 

Harley was still crying against Nyssa’s shoulder softly. Nyssa and Jake Mason sat red eyed and shocked. Nico was pacing beyond as Percy attempted to reason with him quietly. It all felt rather like some kind of late season twist like you would find in a show DeGrassi or Glee or any other trashy high school drama. But Will had to hand it to Leo, he definitely knew how to announce his comeback.  

“Nico, I know you would probably feel much better if you went all stabby mcStabberson on Leo with your scary stabby sword, but has it occurred to you that it would just kill Leo again?” Percy asked him, half-understanding, half on the verge of nervous laughter. 

“Oh but I do. I do want to kill Leo and make sure he stays dead this time,” Nico said with glee before bearing his teeth. “He. Made. My. Sister. Cry. I can’t let him keep breathing. I have my honor to uphold, so I need to utterly destroy him.” 

“Really Nico? You can’t kill Leo!” 

“Can I disembowl him?” 

“No.”

“Skin him?”

“No.” 

“Tear out his still beating heart and sacrifice it on the altar of my father? Use his blood as finger paint?”

“No Nico, though I give you an A for creativity.” 

“This is why I hate this place,” Nico snapped. “All of you are so sensitive about perfectly reasonable things like manslaughter.”

“Stop being a murderous whiny baby!” Percy told him. 

“Why don’t you make me you—“

The Grecian swear Nico used was so foul that Nyssa yelped and clapped her hands over Harley’s ears. Will lunged forward and grabbed Nico’s shoulder and physically got between both Percy and Nico before they could do something stupid like bring the whole camp down around their ears with their collective power. Sherman and Ellis looked rather disappointed, but Lou Ellen and Cecil held them back from joining the fray.

“Okay that’s enough!” Will demanded. “Nico you come with me. Right now—don’t even think about arguing with me so don’t open your mouth a single centimeter. If you do I swear you’ll be speaking in limericks for the next month Apollo protect me! Percy, go cool down in the lake!” 

“Where are we even going?!” Nico demanded as Will grabbed his arm and trudged with him through camp. Will didn’t dare look back, or else he would definitely lose his nerve. No matter how brave he wanted to feel, the cold emanating from Nico like an air-conditioner on full blast was very intimidating. Finally they got to the nearly deserted training grounds. Will pushed Nico in front of a training dummy and handed him a sword from the rack.

“There. You want to stab, stab the dummy. Get out your anger,” Will ordered as he pointed to the dummy, hoping Nico wouldn’t decide that he was a better dummy to stab. Nico stared at Will incredulously before turning to the training dummy. The first few thwacks were half-hearted, but Nico’s hits soon took on a savage angry edge. Every hit Will could imagine bone breaking or puncturing muscle or tearing of skin. Eventually Nico had to slow down, breathing heavily and still glaring forward while not giving Will any sign of his weakness as he went through positions seamlessly, but he was no longer 10 below.

“This is stupid,” Nico spat towards the very beaten practice dummy.  

“I don’t understand why you are so angry, but you are and here we are,” Will said as he sat on a log.

“You don’t understand,” Nico growled, whirling on Will. “Leo is out there trapezing around and you don’t understand?”

“He’s alive! You should be happy. You even said that he would be coming back,” Will said as he threw his hands in the air. “Honestly, Nico. What is going on with you?”

“Happy? Happy that…that idiot died, leaving only pain for those who loved him and thought he was dead, only to send some sort of half-baked message like that?” Nico demanded of Will. “What about my sister—my sister who agonized over Leo? Why didn’t he rush back for her? Or his siblings? Or anyone else?”

“He obviously went back for that girl.”

“Ha. He went back for Calypso. How fitting. The two of them ducking their fates and riding off into the sunset,” Nico said as he stabbed at the ground angrily as if imagining their faces there.

“So that’s it? You’re mad because of that? You aren’t mad because he hurt your feelings?” Will asked him calmly, brushing aside the fact that Nico was saying that somehow Leo had gotten Calypso, the famed nymph, to fall in love with him. Now that was a story Will wanted to hear at some point, if Nico didn’t kill him first.

“I don’t have any feelings,” Nico snarked as he threw the sword he was holding back in the pile.

“Nico—”

“Gods, why can’t anyone just stay. For the sake of the gods, why does everyone just have to go and—“ Nico muttered under his breath before grinding his teeth. “But obviously I’m just crazy, right? Everyone just loves me. No one was ever uncomfortable with me and wanted me to leave, right? Everything is just peachy keen. It’s just all in Nico di Angelo’s head, he’s just some wacky child of Hades, he’s just crazy. He’s not allowed to be hurt, or angry, or anything because he’ll just blow everything for everyone with his uncontrollable powers.”

“Nico, is this about the battle? What I said to you?” Will asked, totally floored at the sudden change. There was a growing pit in his stomach, as flashes of childbirth, Half-Blood Hill torn by the battle, and a pale and ghostly Nico di Angelo came back to him. “When I was telling you to stay?”

“Just forget it—”

“No, I won’t,” Will said firmly. He swallowed, trying to work past the suddenly lump in his throat. Will was ashamed and he could barely breathe. “I…I’ve never meant to tell you that how you felt wasn’t valid. How you feel is important to me. Really, it is. I’m…I’m so sorry that the way I said things made you feel otherwise. Oh Gods, I’m a total asshole. You must think I’m an absolute asshole.”

“Wait, what’s happening—are you crying?” Nico demanded, sounding horrified.

“No,” Will lied, equally embarrassed as he rubbed his face. Will was just as horrified at his sudden show of emotion as Nico was, his face was hot and his tears were warm and he wanted to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. “Yes.”

“Oooh my gods, di immortales, please, please stop crying,” Nico begged Will. “Oh gods I hate it when you cry. Please stop crying. This is my fault, it has to be my fault.”

“No, it’s my fault! It’s all my fault because I’m an idiot,” Will said impassioned at his utter stupidity. Suddenly everything was so clear to him. Nico wouldn’t break up with him because of anything that Nico found wrong with Will. It would be because Will was too caught up in himself and what he was feeling to be good for him. “I haven’t considered your feelings, not really, this whole time and I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I…I forgive you,” Nico said slowly, but with feeling. “I do.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Will asked him softly.

“I…no…kind of…it’s complicated,” Nico said as his hands hung by his sides limply. “I just…I had a lot of fun on our date, Will. But I…there’s probably other people that you would rather go on dates with and…you are so nice to me. I just don’t want to feel like I’m being a burden on you.”

“Nico?”

“Yeah?”

“You aren’t a burden on me. I didn’t go on that date with you because I’m nice. I went on that date with you and I want to keep going on dates with you because I like you.”

Will woke up feeling chilled, sighing heavily. He didn’t want to get up yet, as his blankets and quilts were so utterly and deliciously warm, but finally Will forced himself out from the bed. The air was chilled, and Will enjoyed the scent of autumn was on the wind as he walked to the infirmary. It wasn’t like there was anyone in the infirmary, but there was a Keurig, and with a Keurig there was coffee.

He sat at the stoop of the Big House, sipping his coffee and watching the sky turn pearly, the edges just beginning the lighten in dawn. The sun was calling to him, and he waited patiently for it to rise as his coffee wafted and steamed in the air.

“Good morning Will,” Chiron said, hooves clopping as he stood beside him.

“Good morning,” Will greeted the teacher. “It’s a beautiful sunrise isn’t it?”

“That it is,” Chiron hummed, taking a sip of his own coffee as he rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “It has been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a sunrise, but I find no better company than the one I share with right now for it.”

“Now you’re just buttering me up for something,” Will said with an attempt at teasing, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He let his smile fall from his face, and continued to gaze ahead thoughtfully as the sky began to turn orange, brushstrokes of red deepening against the darkness and brightening with a shock of color. From there one could see the horizon stark against the sea, opening up the world to a bright new day. Will was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely caught what Chiron was saying to him.

“Will, I believe I heard something about you and Nico,” Chiron said, and Will frowned as he wished he hadn’t heard Chiron at all.

“Oh,” Will said slowly, resisting his urge to blow bubbles in his coffee, however Will couldn’t bring himself to be rude to Chiron or duck the question. Chiron, who had let Will stay, who had taught Will how to suture a wound and perform an appendectomy and who seemingly knew Will better than he knew himself was someone he couldn’t lie to that easily. “Uh…yeah, that’s not happening. I kind of messed everything up, as usual.”

“As usual? I was under the impression that you only truly attempted to romance one girl previous,” Chiron said with an arched brow.

“Uh…Chiron, please, if we could avoid any blows to my ego I would be real grateful,” Will drawled slowly.  

“I didn’t mean to—” Chiron cut himself off and seemingly reformulated whatever he wanted to say, his hind quarters shifted and plodded nervously on the ground. “I do not have extensive experience with romantic issues. Granted, the only romance that I’ve been involved with is the romance of other demigods with each other, and even then I preferred to stay out of it. Forgive me for my lack of tact.”

“You are forgiven,” Will promised Chiron immediately, not having it in his heart to hold that against Chiron. “I guess I just don’t really know what to do. I made my feelings as clear as possible, but Nico just kind of…well, he freaked out and ran off. Maybe I was just too forward, but what else could I have done? I wanted him to know how I feel, but I’m sorry if I sprung it on him. Though, I don’t think he’ll appreciate my apology after my sudden declaration of love.”

“Love? I see, love.”

“Yeah.”  

“I have to admit,” Chiron said as he obviously hid a smile, “that part of you is from your father. No one has more of a penchant for sudden declarations of love than he does.”

“Oh, great, and those seem to always go so well for him,” Will grumbled under his breath. “Well, thankfully my track record isn’t that bad. No one’s turned into a plant yet.”

“Well, this is also true,” Chiron chuckled before placing a hand on Will’s shoulder. “But as I was saying before, if I may give you some advice Will? In manners of the heart, it is valid to plunge forward recklessly. Some people can’t do that, and must take a moment to stop and think. Give Nico time to think.”

“You think he might come around? Or at least forgive me?” Will asked, recalling Nico retreating back to his cabin after his declaration without a single word, just a pale white ghost. As far as Will knew, he hadn’t once emerged from the cabin the whole rest of the day or night, and as far as anyone could tell he may or may not have even been at Camp Half-Blood anymore.

“I can’t say. But I’ll have you know, I’ve given this advice to your brothers before.”

“Great, which ones?” Will asked as he watched the waves crash against the shore from the distance, the waves of long grass being tussled gently.

“Michael and Lee, at different times of course,” Chiron said, the look on his face fond and gentle. Will had meant his comment as a joke, but suddenly he felt that lump return to his throat. Michael and Lee were hardly ever talked about by anyone, except to talk about how they died. Will had almost forgotten that they had lived outside the sacred place in his heart he had built for them. “Wait for Nico’s response patiently, Will. Wait for him, and listen to him well when the time comes. And when it does, you will choose how it plays out for you. But know that I am rooting for you, Will Solace.”

Will smiled the best he could before he finished sipping his coffee and promised that he would talk to Chiron later. He returned the mug to the proper sink before deciding that the best thing he could do would be to head back to his cabin. He could wake up his siblings, get going on the day—

“Will.”

Will yelped, tripped on a tree root and promptly wiped out. He groaned as he managed to pull himself up, before looking back to see Nico staring at him half-emerged from the shadows. He was pale except for the shadows that ridged around his eyes, he looked generally grungy like he had been for a long and sweaty hike in the woods, his clothing was disheveled and slightly torn.

“Oh my gods, you look terrible,” Will blurted out.

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Nico said with a grimace that pulled hard as his lips.

“What happened?” Will said, seeing blood dripping down his arm.

“I…uh…went for a run.”

“A run?” Will asked with a raised eyebrow. “And you got this beat up during a run?”

“I also might have run into a flock of Stymphalian birds on this run,” Nico explained. Will just sighed, put his head in his hands for a moment as he attempted to collect himself before pulling up to his feet.

“Well, come on then. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Nico was quiet as he let Will lead them back to the infirmary. Nico took a shower in the bathroom while Will collected the supplies he would need for the first aid. None of Nico’s various scrapes, bruises, or cuts would need healing magic, but they did need disinfectant and gauze. Will worked robotically as he tended to Nico’s wounds. When he offered the unicorn draught, Nico didn’t complain, but when Will began lining up other products and ordered Nico to wash his face Nico was hesitant.

               “Stop grumbling and rinse,” Will ordered, and Nico splashed his face free of the suds.

“I don’t understand why we’re doing this,” Nico grumbled as Will pulled back the headband to keep his hair from getting any wetter before drying his skin and then patting on the toner.

“Because a good skin care routine is important and will keep you from looking like death warmed over,” Will told Nico a matter-of factly as he grabbed the eye cream. “Close your eyes.”

“It’s cold,” Nico commented suspiciously, though he allowed Will to continue without biting his fingers off. “What does this have to do with healing?”

“In the humble words of a wise person, treat yo’self.”

“But isn’t ten steps excessive?”

“Okay, unless one is a certain gorgeous child of Aphrodite, bless her heart, one does not have perfect skin. We work for perfect skin. It’s a necessity.”

“You are just a vain child of Apollo. Normal people do not care about their skin this much.”

“Ha, please. Don’t make me laugh,” Will commented as he finished putting on the moisturizer. “There, you look like a human again.”

“I’m not a human though, neither are you,” Nico commented wryly as he pulled on his shirt.

“Then we are just both vaguely human shaped and we have a charade to uphold,” Will told him as he put away his things into their various shelves.

“You know, I didn’t really know what to expect when you told me to come here,” Nico said as he swung his legs, not unlike a child would. “I didn’t really know what to think about you either. You weren’t scared of me, you were easy to talk to. You were funny, but you took what I had to say seriously. When I found out I might have a chance, you know, when you were joking with Antonio that one time, and when I saw Nyssa and Billie together, I freaked because I was so surprised and happy. It’s stupid, but most of the people I like end up hating me so I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t worth it giving it a shot. Percy told me that sometimes you just got to dive in, but I can’t really do that. Whenever I do that someone always gets hurt. Eventually…I don’t know how or when, I’ll hurt you. I’ll be selfish and I’ll hurt you. But…but for some reason I felt like you might be able to handle it but then I suddenly got so terrified that I…so I…godsdamnit I’m not making any sense am I?”

Nico was glaring at the floor ferociously, as if the floor had just insult him, his father, his sister, and his dog. Will sat next to him on the bed, at the creak of the springs Nico looked up.

“I like you, Nico,” Will said, because that was all he could say. He looked towards Nico, hoping that a fraction of what he was feeling was being conveyed to him somehow. His words weren’t enough, but maybe the rest of it could be.

“You said that before,” Nico said with a glare and narrowed eyes.

“But I do,” Will argued. “I really, really like you.”

“Did you not hear anything I just said,” Nico demanded with a huff.

“I did. And I know, Nico. I already know that you’ll probably hurt me and I might hurt you, but I still like you,” Will promised Nico firmly. “Trust me, I know it better than anyone. I’ve been agonizing over that for a while now, but I’m ready for whatever happens, because I like you. Do you like me?”

“I…I do,” Nico answered.

“Then do you want to go out with me?” Will asked him curiously.  

“If you go out with me, I’m going to need a little bit of time…before we tell everyone. Just so I can get used to it,” Nico warned him.

“I can wait,” Will promised, grasping Nico’s hand. Nico squeezed his hand in return.

[rosyredlipstick]

Rental Love* (9\10)

(*Read Terms & Conditions)

-

Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email solace.w@fastmail.com if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one. Read Part One Here Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Nico had always enjoyed breakfast with the group.

Reyna and Drew - with Annabeth now - always insisting on some health food craze Persephone was too happy to accommodate, Leo and Piper getting their fingers hit with Allegra’s wooden spoon as she mixed up the chocolate waffle batter with skilled air, Jason beside Hades, falling asleep onto the older man’s shoulder with Hades only too happy to allow the action. Thalia and Rachel, grinning, as they took quick photos of the younger boy, Hazel giggling from under her hand and Frank’s arm over her shoulders. Percy, a foreign but quickly adjusting presence in their house, insisting on adding drops of blue food coloring to a batch of the pancake batter even as Grover and Juniper outright laughed at him. Even Jules-Albert, usually too busy admiring Hades’s vintage cars, joined them for the morning, following Allegra’s strict orders with swift air.

Nico leaned into Will’s side, Will’s arm thrown over the back of his chair, and felt very warm.

A cup was sliding in front of him, Mitchell grinning down at him, a pitcher of juice in his hands.

“Cute,” He remarked, winking at Will as he poured another glass.

Will smiled in thanks, accepting the glass. Nico’s shoulder, pressed into his side, increased in pressure as Nico leaned in even closer.

Mitchell caught the action and smirked as he walked away, the pitcher still in his hands. Nico tried to keep his glaring to a minimum.

Will caught it too, but said nothing even as he smiled into his drink of juice.

Allegra and Persephone finished up cooking breakfast - Persephone always liked to help out when they had company - and Hades helped serve everyone, a big, happy smile in place.

Hades, Nico had noticed long ago, was always happiest when his house was full.

Jason noticed Nico’s plate, piled with pancakes and, from Will’s insistence, a small pile of fruit. A compromise they had settled on in the past few days.

“What,” Jason’s voice was full of glee, “no Pop-Tarts? That’s a first.”

Vaguely, Nico was thinking of his Pop-Tarts in a way someone might reminisce upon a lost lover. He missed them.

Nico sighed, gesturing towards his plate. “I guess this is somewhat healthier.”

“Pop-Tarts have fruit in them though,” Leo added thoughtfully, “The strawberry ones should be fine.”

Will was clenching at the table, “Oh my god.”

“Right?” Nico was happily agreeing.

Will was glaring at Leo, “Are you where he gets this?”

Leo gave him an innocent look, “Me? Please. We all know who the true leader of the Pop-Tart cult is.”

There was a beat of silence as both Leo and Nico’s eyes slid over to the accompanying person.

“Piper.” They agreed together, the girl giving them no attention as she cut into stack of pancakes. There were a lot of them.

Piper was the true leader of the Pop-Tart love in their group. Nico knew, with incredible certainty, that if someone where to look into her backpack at that exact moment, at least three silver packets would be tucked away in the fabric. She was a true champion like that.

Will’s head fell back to the back of his chair, staring at the ceiling. “You’re all disgusting.

“Pop-Tarts have no good nutritional value.” Reyna was frowning down at them, taking a bite of her yogurt. Persephone had ordered it special for her once they found out she was coming.

Will went practically lax with relief. “Thank the gods, someone with sense. And a will to life.” He leaned forward, “Have they always eaten so incredibly horrible?”

There was a beat of silence, like Reyna was mentally going through their meals.

She chewed through a bite of granola as she did so. “They like to participate in food challenges.” She finally said, Will’s face going pale. “Like those, eat a five pound burger in under an hour and win a meal and tshirt? Yeah.” She shuttered, as did several other people at the table now listening in, “Do you know how many of those food challenges are in New York?” She gave them all a stern look. “A lot.”

“Piper’s the best at them,” Nico added on, “When I had to tap out on that nine scoops sundae one, Pipes just kept going. Totally won too.”

Piper gave him an appreciative nod, holding up her pancake slice in toast. Nico nodded back. They had shared a bond, after that.

“Jason made a tshirt quilt all of our accomplishments,” Leo looked strangely proud, pulling out his phone to show everyone a picture. Persephone leaned in to look closer.

She was nodding in approval. “You kept the edges very straight, very nice.”

Jason blushed, waving off her praise. Jason had worked on that thing for two straight months in their living room - it had been a mess of scissors, fabric, and needles for weeks afterwards.

Will had been still at his side for the past few moments, his face still pale.

“That’s….horrifying.” Will finally got out. Reyna nodded in agreement.

“I went along with them to one of them - tacos, I believe.” Her face went thoughtful, “Jason won that one, I think. 26 tacos.”

“Piper sat out, they were out of tofu.” Jason added on, “She totally could have taken us all.”

Piper smiled, knocking her shoulder into the other boy’s. Their flirting was so weird, sometimes.

Reyna was still observing Will with that look on her face. “You should come along next time.” She said after a long moment, “They usually do it once every month or two. Should be coming up soon. Would be nice to have someone with...sense, as you say.”

It...was coming up soon. They were thinking of doing some burrito challenge Leo had found. It was also planned for the end of January, long after Will would be hanging around.

This was also, strangely, the first time Reyna had ever offered to hang out with, even in a group, one of Nico’s boyfriends. She notoriously disliked most of the guys Nico chose.

Percy perked up from down the table, “That sounds so cool! I’ve always wanted to do that!”

Annabeth wrinkled her nose, “Gross, Seaweed Boy.”

“You guys should totally come next time.” Jason offered, his eyes sliding to Nico’s for a fraction of a second he grinned at them both. “It’s fine, and we could always use more free tshirts.”

Percy beamed at that, grinning slightly.

Nico felt bad, suddenly, that after the mess he’d made in high school, that Nico had gotten most of the friends. Jason, Hazel, and Reyna, of course, and by extension Piper, Leo, and Frank, with Piper and Jason’s siblings.

Percy had never had trouble making friends, no, but there was nothing like the people you grew up with - the ones who saw you through your terrible hair dye phases and still teased you for it.

Maybe it would be good, for both of them, that he was invited to these things again. Percy had always been a good friend, despite it all. And Bianca had always laughed at his dorky jokes, the few times Nico had invited them all over before.

It would be good for them, he thought

They finished eating - Will’s horrified shutters kept to a minimum - and it wasn’t long before their plates were clean, and the conversation slightly lulled.

“What are we doing until the party?” Hazel asked as she began collecting dishes. At the sink, Frank was rolling up his sleeves.

There was a moment of silent as they all thought it over. Last year, they had all relaxed at the pool for a few hours in the afternoon, the year before that they had watched a few movies. There was so tradition for this part. Well, if you didn’t count -

“Everyone else is getting here around seven.” Piper examined her nails, a picture of nonchalance. “We have time, you know.”

Shoulders tensed, eyes flashed, hands clenched. The tension in the room suddenly shot up a few hundred degrees, leaving everyone - all except one - glaring at each other.

“Um,” Will was glancing around, unsure but on edge. It felt like someone was going to suddenly pull out a knife, and they’d all jump in a choreographed fight Will had no idea about. At his side, Nico’s hand twitched towards his side, and suddenly that idea seemed a lot less ridiculous. “What are you talking about? Time for what?”

Reyna, tall and elegant even with a scrap of yogurt at the corner of her mouth, leaned forward to take a long drink of her ice water. All eyes were on her, breath baited.

She finished her sip, leaning back into her chair. “Oh, it’s nothing.” Her eyelashes swept across her chest as her eyes dipped down to the table. After a moment, she was meeting their eyes, her gaze dark and serious through her eyelashes. “Just a snowball fight.”

The air snapped back to its previous tension like a whip. Nico’s knuckles were turning white as he clenched the table.

“Game starts in ten.” Reyna’s announcement was all the prompt they got, and suddenly they were all stumbling to their feet, running to get winter gear and boots and start making their forts before the game began.

“You guys are crazy.” Will let out a breath as they all stood, the words coming out of him like a confession.

Nico’s hand clasped him on the shoulder, mostly just to pull him along as he hurried to grab their coats. “Keep saying that and I won’t let you on my team.”

“Oh?” Will gave him a look, “And what team is that?”

Nico’s eyes flashed, “The winning team.”

“This is insane.” Will was wide-eyed, “You guys get like, entirely too serious about this. Honestly, about everything. Your family is crazy. First, gingerbread house making, and now this. You guys are way too competitive like, to a weird level.”

Nico snorted, “Are you going to keep complaining or are you actually going to help out here?”

Will’s eyes were still a bit wide around the edges as he crouched down to help Nico roll some balls of snow. “Hades brought out a rule book.”

“It’s lamented,” Nico added helpfully, “so the snow doesn’t ruin it.”

“You guys are the craziest family I’ve ever visited, you know.” Will added thoughtfully.

Nico hummed. Hades and Persephone were extra as hell, and his friends were pretty crazy as well.

Will was still speaking, “I...like it. I like your family.”

Nico paused for a second, glancing up at the other boy. “Oh?”

Will was now focused on his task of rolling out snowballs, his eyes glued to the snow. “Yeah.”

Nico cleared his throat, glancing around before standing. “We should go. Um, join the game. Usually everyone’s in the front courtyard.”

Will was silent for a few seconds, his eyes on Nico’s face like he was looking for something there. After a moment his shoulders fell, and when he spoke his voice was quiet. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Nico lead the way, sticking to mostly creeping behind the trees and piles of snow as they headed towards the front. Beside him, Will’s usual chatter was absent.

Nico felt like, for some odd reason, he’d messed up something back there. Like there was a scripted line, or a choreographed step, he’d totally missed out on.

From the slight curve for Will’s mouth, maybe he was thinking the same thing.

At his left, a blonde ponytail was disappearing around a wall of snow. Nico tensed up, the hold on ammo tightening.

He pulled down Will’s shoulder as he fell to a crotch, his eyes narrowing. After a quick minute of this, Annabeth stood from where she had hidden away, running to the middle of the clearing.

Nico jumped to his feet, his snowball already flying through the air as he got into position. Bulls-eye.

She paused, glaring at him, before dashing off again. Her first or second hit then - the fatal third hit would have had her scowling and stomping away. She had twenty seconds to run off to safety.

“Nice,” Will nodded in approval. Nico’s ignored the bubble of warm that inflated in his chest at that.

The game was intense, as usual. Every step had to be occupied with a careful step - it wouldn’t be the first time they resorted to traps - and a glance over the shoulder. Even Will fell into the tension, his steady hand carrying a tight grip on Nico’s wrist as he guided the other boy forward.

There were a few close calls - almost stepping out in the open when Thalia and Reyna crept by, nearly getting hit as Drew pelted their tree as she ran by.

“Let’s split up,” Nico nodded towards the thinning hiding spots. “I’ll meet you back here in twenty - try and get Reyna out, if you can. She’ll win it all on her own if she has to.”

Will nodded gravely, scooping up a handful of snow as he dashed off. Nico smiled slightly as he ran off.

It was nice, having someone who got into this as much as his friends did, complaints and all. Really, Will had thrown himself into this arrangement. He was....good at this. At being a boyfriend.

Nico supposed he had to be. It was his job.

But was it really?

Really, his job was carefully written out in the folded contract Nico had gotten a copy of. Going along with family traditions, sure. That was one. Three forms of public physical affection, yes. Even playing the part of a boyfriend, someone who knew Nico intimately, yes.

But was participating in an annual snowball fest, as earnestly and seriously as he was, included? Or their midnight talks - so soft spoken - were those? Those grins, those looks, the way Will would trace his fingers over Nico’s skin when they were alone - that wasn’t....Will hadn’t signed up for that.

Nico hadn’t paid for that.

He was thinking this, frozen against the trunk of a tree, all of this, when it kind of came to him.

When he realized that this wasn’t a job. Not all of it. It couldn't be.

Nico was frozen there for a few minutes, a shocked with his revelation, until he forcibly shook himself out of it. He...couldn't think about that right now. Not right now.

He ran away, chasing off one of the girls, unidentifiable under all their winter gear - either Rachel or Juniper from the red curls peeking out from under their hat - but returned to the tree trunk after only a few minutes. Will would be back, and the game over soon. They were all too competitive for these games to last too long. Hiding and talking with Will - they had probably missed most of the action. Nico didn't regret it.

Only a few minutes later, Will was back, breathing a bit heavy, his eyes a bit wide.

"I think I just saw someone, like, die from the force of a snowball." Will informed him, leaning against the tree.

Nico cracked a smile, "Who threw it?"

"Reyna, I think? Hard to tell."

Nico whistled a bit, "That would do it. She was on the softball team in high school. Pitcher."

Will winced, "Maybe I did just witness a death."

"Probably."

Will spoke up at Nico glanced around again - it wouldn't do good to have any sneak attacks.

"It is always this intense?"

Nico shrugged, his gaze still off and away. “We used to have these all the time and they were fun, but most of the time everyone would get bored after a few minutes. But one year Reyna proposed boys versus girls and....” Nico shook his head, a bit incredulous. “It was the most intense game we’ve ever had. Everyone went crazy.”

Will snorted, which should have been unattractive. Nico’s eyes drifted down to his coat, covered in two separate hit marks.

“You’ve been hit twice.” Nico observed.

Will cursed and bent down to make another snowball. “Piper and Thalia got me - they’re out for blood.”

Nico hummed, crouching down to make his own ball of snow. Perfectly round, the snow pure and white.

It looked even more perfectly as it smashed into Will’s back, the snow painting out across his back beautifully.

Nico was smiling sweetly as the other boy turned slowly, betrayal written all over his face.

Will touched the snow on his shoulder, looking down to the melting snowflakes in disbelief. “You…”

“You owed me,” Nico finished for him, still smiling, “Remember? When we made a snowman - sorry, snowwoman - you said I could get a free hit. Remember?”

Will was speechless.

“I think you’re out, sweetheart.” Nico turned and pointed towards the side of the yard, where Hades and Persephone were perched happily, watching the game with hot chocolate and cider. At their feet, Grover sat smiling with a steaming cup, Frank was cheering for someone - probably Hazel - and Drew was frowning with snow in her hair. “You should go join them.”

“I...can’t believe you,” Will told him, blinking. The melting snow started sliding off his back. “We’re dating.”

“Everything’s fair in love and war.” Nico was full on grinning now, his hands deep in his pockets.

Will was glaring at him, “You can take out that love part, I should break up with you right now.”

“Go for it babe,” Nico grinned sunnily and, without giving it much thought, leaned in to peck the other boy on the cheek. In the moment, it felt right. Afterwards...

They both froze almost immediately. In front of him, Will’s cheeks were burning a harsh red not due to the cold weather, and their eyes were matching wide.

“I, uh -” Will stumbled on his words before going quiet, staring at the other boy.

Nico was speechless.

Why...why the hell did he do that.

Will’s cheek had been warm and soft under his lips.

Fuck. That was why.

Nico’s mouth fell open, his breath icing white in front of him. He didn’t know what to say.

A hand shoved at his shoulder, knocking him out of the moment.

“C’mon lovebirds!” Leo was dashing off, throwing a grin over his shoulder. “Don’t just stand around!”

Nico let out a breath, nodding. He turned back to Will, who was still waiting.

Will cleared his throat, “I guess I should go sit with everyone else.”

“Yeah, uh - “ Nico gave him a casual shrug, “Root for me?”

Will rolled his eyes, successfully setting the mood back. “Like I ever would after you betrayed me.”

Nico gave him a soft smile as the other boy turned to head over to the out zone, Persephone and Hades waving happily.

As he walked away, Will’s fingers came up to crush his cheek, still burning red.

Nico noticed this.

And then he promptly forced himself to Stop Thinking about it as he ran off, trying to keep out of sight from the girls team. He could...freak out about this later. For sure.

Will sat there, his eyes following Nico, only cheering when Rachel managed to get him with a snowball to the shoulder, and Thalia with a hit to chest. He only had one hit left.

He dove behind one of the walls - probably made by Frank, he was good at strategy like that - and began rolling up more snowballs. It only took a few minutes of this before he was joined.

Jason was breathing heavy as he leaned against the wall. He and Leo had come running.

“Reyna just got Mitchell out when he pelted Rachel,” Jason informed him, “It’s only us left. Against who?”

“I just got Hazel out.” Leo winced, “I really think she’s going to like, poison me later tonight.”

“Nah, Hazel’s more of a hands-on kinda gal. A stabbing, if anything.”

“Reassuring.”

Another person was diving for shelter under their wall, bringing a flurry of snowballs flying in his wake. It was Percy, barely missing a snowball flying straight for his arm. They all winced.

“Got Juniper,” He was panting, “It’s only Annabeth, Reyna, and Thalia left.”

“Piper?” Jason cocked his head to the side, peeking above their wall to throw a few more snowballs. The girls must be getting a bit too close for his liking.

“Mitchell got her a few minutes ago.” He grimaced glancing over their wall. “It looks like we’re trapped.”

“We’re not going to win this.” Nico informed Jason and Percy as they huddled under their snow wall. Before them, the girls were relentless.

“Yeah, big surprise.” Leo rolled his eyes as he fiddled with the slingshot he’d made with two sticks, some duct tape, and a piece of rubber. Not bad, either. “We haven’t won in three years.”

“This was suppose to be our year.” Jason reflected on, his eyes to the sky even as he rounded out another few snowballs.

“You say that every year.”

“Well, men.” Percy gave them all a fierce look, looking a bit ridiculous in his blue pom-pom hat, bright yellow scarf he’d stolen from Hazel’s closet. “This is the end. But damn it all if we don’t do out with honor.”

“Bro.” Jason was teary eyed.

Percy only nodded gravely, “Bro.”

There was a beat of silence, mostly just a sigh from all of them as they accepted their loss, before Leo spoke up.

“At least I'm going out with my hot piece by my side,” Leo announced, slapping Jason’s ass. Jason blushed sweetly, making both Percy and Nico gag into the pile of snowballs. “Speaking of hot pieces, where’s Will? I thought he was still in.”

“Pelted him in the back as revenge.”

“Oh, nice.” Leo responded, having Nico glance over just in time to watch him pull Jason in a fierce, passionate kiss. Nico sighed in frustration, turning back.

“We’ll go out together. It’ll be like the end of Les Mis but gay.” Leo reflected as he pulled away, gathering all the snowballs he could to prepare.

Nico scoffed as he did the same. “Please, Les Mis was so gay. Read the book.”

Jason gave Leo a strange look, “What do you mean?”

“You know, when that one dude joins Aaron Tveit when he’s about to get all shot up in the barricade and like, they hold hands and die together? It was so sad, you cried.”

Jason was nodding, “I cried a lot during that movie. Remember Anne Hathaway? God.”

“Focus,” Nico hissed, “you guys can talk about this later!”

They snapped back to attention and started gathering all they could carry.

And finally, with their arms heavy with rounded snow, they nodded to each other, stood, and ran.

Predictably, they didn’t last long. Even with their arms overflowing with ammo, they were no match for the combined efforts of Reyna, Annabeth, and Thalia.

They fell with honor - and grace, Leo would add snickering as he poked Jason’s shoulder - Percy would reflect on as they all melted in front of the fireplace. There was still snow in most of their hair, and Persephone had demanded they leave their snow covered clothes in the entrance area, so they were mostly stripped down to the bares, covered in blankets.

Leo was down to his boxers, having simply stripped off his snow painted jeans and sweater. It was a good idea, Nico was realizing as the snow began melting into the fabric of his clothes, setting the cold close to his skin.

They began to break off in bits - most everyone getting up to change into spares of clothes. Finally, Nico picked up his head from where he had comfortably tucked it into Will’s neck. Will gave him a curious look.

“We should go change. Get ready.” He sighed, “We’ll have to help set up for the party soon.”

Will picked himself off the ground first - they had been comfortably curled by the fireplace, nearly the last in the parlor now with the exception of Grover and Juniper dozing on the couch.

He held out a hand, and Nico pulled himself up. Once on his feet, neither of them let go.

Nico gave him a small smile, “Let’s get ready to party.”

Nico wondered, very softly in the back of his mind, if Persephone and Hades even knew what the meaning of simple was.

That’s what they had promised the party to be. And Nico was an idiot for ever believing it.

He should print out the definition and frame it for them - they could hang it up in the living room, in that empty section of wall next to the door. It would be a perfect reminder there, lest they ever forget.

Because this...this was not simple.

He should have known.

Their entire basement had been outfitted for the night - silk ribbons - never streamers, nothing as simple or obvious as streamers but goddamn silk ribbons - hung from the ceiling, along with clear balloons filled with multicolored glitter. The bar was ready, drinking and glasses lined up, and a full catered buffet was along the wall. Large speakers hung from the walls. A live band. There was a candy table, with personalized favors.

A photobooth was in the corner, laughter drifting from the small box. The basement was already decently full, and people were still arriving by the carful.

This. Was. Not. Simple.

Nico only let out a breath, clenching at Will’s hand in his. Will’s eyes were shining at he looked around, his eyes catching on everything and gleaming. Under the different colored lights, Will was grinning like movie, laughing like the best song Nico'd ever heard. 

Okay, Nico briefly reconsidered his stance, maybe it isn’t that bad.

Hazel had invited everyone, it seemed. Every few steps he spotted a familiar face, eyeing his and Will’s entwined hands with interest. Piper, with wicked grin, only waved as they passed, staring at both of them as they walked by. They killed some time like that - Will navigating Nico's friend group and extended like a pro. 

Leo, draped over Jason and probably already drunk, whistled as they walked by. “Looking good, di Angelo!”

“Fuck off, Valdez!” Nico didn’t bother looking over his shoulder for that, settling for a simple middle finger in the other boy’s direction. From the bound of laughter that followed, it wasn’t as effective as Nico had hoped.

Nico lead them around the party, saying hello to most everyone he hadn’t already seen before. He steered clear of the Stoll Brothers, not needing to get involved in whatever they had planned, and eventually lead them over to one of the corners. He needed a break.

Nico winced against the loud music, his hands twitching up. He forced them to his sides, despite the want to cover his ears against the pulse of the bass. It was nearly shaking the walls.

Will leaned in with a concerned look, “You okay?”

Nico nodded, looking away. He didn’t like parties, usually. They were loud, hot, with everyone pressed against him, and he usually had a sensory overload if he stayed too long in the middle of things. He'd have to make up some excuse to escape and calm down in a few minutes. 

Will gave him a look, a steadying hand curling around his wrist. “Follow me.”

Nico was already trying to pull his wrist back, “It’s a party, we don’t have to-”

Will didn’t wait for him to finish, only readjusting his hold and pulling the other boy out of the basement. Nico didn’t argue after they hit the main staircase, climbing up to the second flood.

Another staircase - not Nico’s room then, where he had been expecting.

They hit the third floor, and Will lead him directly into the library, turning on a lamp as he pulled them to a couch. They were alone, of course. No one would be in a library during a party.

No one but them.

Nico fell to the cushioned seat, beyond thankful. Already, his chest was beginning to ease, the cotton in his mind beginning to ease. Parties made him twitchy.

Will settled next to him, his feet curving under him. He settled the blanket from the other night over his legs, leaving out the edge for Nico to curl against. He did so happily.

There was a moment of silence, Will pulling out his phone, and Nico bit his lip, his head clearing up with the silence. He sat up, avoiding Will’s eyes.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Nico shrugged, looking away. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

Nico could hear Will’s phone click off. Will shifted his weight, “What?”

“You can go, it’s fine.” Nico waved his hand through the air, “Go have fun. It’s New Year’s Eve. I hear there’s a party downstairs.”

Unsteadily, Nico’s eyes slid to the other boy.

Will smiled slightly at Nico’s lame joke. Nico kind of loved that about him.

“If it’s okay with you,” Will began carefully, “I’d be okay staying here.”

Nico bit his lip again. “The party is always really fun, honestly. I just - I don’t like them sometimes. But they’re fun, really, you shouldn’t miss it.”

Will leaned in, his hand coming up to circle Nico’s cheek. Slowly, so Nico could pull away if he’d want (he didn’t), Will turned Nico’s head to face him head on, his eyes serious but soft.

“Nico,” Will’s eyes dipped down, giving Nico a front row seat of his long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Usually, the closer to a person you got, the more flaws you could spot. Oily pores, zits, stray hairs, whatever counted as aesthetically displaying, Nico guessed. But, of fucking course, this didn’t apply to Will Solace. Fucking of course.

Nico could count Will’s freckles, this close. It wasn’t helping his heart.

Will continued speaking, repeating his name. “Nico,” smiling slightly, Will’s thumb traced his jawline. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now then here, in your library, with you.”

Nico swallowed, “Except home, right? With your family?”

Will didn’t look away. “Counting home. Nowhere else, Nico.”

He took a quick breath.

That meant something. They both knew it.

Nico wanted to kiss Will, at that moment. Wanted to kiss him as Nico, a single as hell literature nerd with a crazy family and friend group to match. He wanted to have a first kiss with Will. He wanted that.

A bell tolled right then, making them jump apart, not just ruining the moment - hitting the moment front on, seventy miles an hour, backing it over again as a statement.

Nico was leaning back, letting go of a breath he didn’t remember let build. A smile cracked at the corner of his mouth

Will was glaring at the grandfather clock in the corner, still going off with the hour, and Nico let out a small laugh. The moment was gone.

“It’s ten.” Nico’s eyes slid over to the table as their side, the teal book still in place where he’d left it. “We have some time before midnight. Do you wanna, uh, pick up where we left off?”

Will broke his glare with a clock, nodding a bit eagerly. He resumed his position from before - his head on Nico’s knees, a blanket over his shoulders as Nico rested the book in his lap. A bookmark held their place, and he cracked open the book to resume.

Nico took a breath, his free hand falling into Will’s curls, and began to read where they had left off.

“But first, to Aulis. Aulis, a jutting finger of a land with enough shoreline to beach all our ships at once…”

Will’s eyes were fluttered shut, but he was not asleep. That was obvious from the tear sliding into the corner of his face.

“It’s so beautiful,” he only said, “and they love each other so much. Gods.”

“It is,” Nico agreed, grabbing his bookmark to slid it back into place. They only had a small section of pages left - the ending was coming, soon. Will gave him a questioning look at his action.

Nico nodded to the clock, “It’s almost eleven thirty. We should rejoin the party.”

Will blinked in surprise, “Oh,” He began pulling the blanket off of himself, “You’re right, I didn’t realize.”

Nico agreed - he hadn’t realized the time had passed so quickly. He checked his phone and, predictably, there were a few texts flashing back at him. One of concern from Jason, some suggestive emojis from Leo and Piper, a question of his whereabouts from Reyna. What he expected, basically.

Nico placed the book to the side, standing and stretching. They’d been lying for an hour and a half - his legs were starting to cramp.

Will was staring at he did so, stumbling up to follow his action, but Nico wasn’t turned to see it - it, being Will’s lingering gaze, his bit lip.

Nico only half-turned back, his hand extended. “Coming?”

Will took his hand, and had to resist the urge to reply with something sickly lovesick.

The party was, of course, still in full-swing - probably due to the Red Bull and vodka shots Jason was lining up on the bar counter, in addition to the loud, poppy music. Top 40. Will must be in heaven.

Jason gave him a considering look as Nico came up, handing over a bright blue drink with red cherries, the glass icy and cold. It was sour. Nice.

The other boy cocked his head in silent question, his gaze still meeting Nico’s even as he handed off another drink. Nico nodded, slightly, and both boys accepted that.

Nico wasn’t really a dancer at parties - mostly preferring to observe and become one with the wallpaper, but enjoyed to watch others make a fool of themselves. The Stoll Brothers always had such a nature talent for it.

Will and him finished their drinks at the bar, soaking in the atmosphere of the party.

There were a few more minutes until midnight when he checked his phone, only a few snapchat notifications blocking up his screen. He checked them - all from the exact party he was at, one from Hazel of him and Will taken from a distance only captioned kiss him!!! with a few bubbly hearts drawn around them. He glanced around for his sister, not immediately finding her anywhere, and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Will was smiling beside him, laughing as Leo, now dancing on a table, began stripping to the apparent delight of the crowd. Over the cheering, some were throwing dollar bills. Good. Maybe he’d stop pursuing Nico into paying for their McDonald's. (Which okay, it wasn’t Nico’s fault that Leo was the only person he knew with low enough standards to not mind McDonald’s once in awhile. Or once a week. Or twice a week. Listen he fucking loved trash fast food okay this is over -)

Gods. Will would probably, like, cry if he knew how much McDonald's Nico ate. Nico had the app. He kind of wanted to tell him, just to see what would happen. Something spectacular, probably.

Nico turned to the other boy, maybe to tell him of the Mcdonald’s thing just to see what would happen, but the words died on his lips. Will was a lot closer then he had been expecting. Around them, the crowd was getting more excited.

“One more minute until midnight!” Someone was yelling nearby, nearly drowned out by the pounding music.

“You’ve still got one kiss.” Will’s breath was barely close enough to brush over Nico’s lips, and wasn’t that just sweetest thing Nico had ever tasted, Will’s warm breath, ghosting over Nico’s chapped, reddened lips. He had been biting them, unsure, all day - now they were particularly sensitive.

“Per my contract.” Nico breathed out, his wrists coming up around the other boy’s waist. It felt almost natural, at this point.

The crowd around them was getting even more rowdy by the second and, in time, they began yelling out the countdown.

10

As if perfect choreography, they both took a small twin step forward, their bodies pressed together not by convenience despite the thick crowd, their breathed mixed together by want.

9

Will’s bend down to run his nose up the line of Nico’s throat, and Nico, without thinking, lifted his chin so he could have better access.  

8

Will pressed a small kiss to the under of Nico’s jaw, and Nico’s hand came up to the back of Will’s neck. It fit well there, like it was meant to.

7

Nico’s cheeks burned the color of the scarlet fireworks soon to be lit off in the air, and Will’s lips found a matching tint.

6

Will’s hands came up to cup Nico’s face, soft and hesitant, like Nico was something to be handled with care, like Nico was something that mattered.

5

Nico bit his lip and stared into his Will’s eyes, as wide and open and vulnerable as his own.

4

This part wasn’t in the contract.

3

This part wasn’t planned for.

2

Will’s eyes were the first to flutter shut, but Nico was the first to start leaning in.

1

The entire deck was filled with kissing couples and friends; nearly all tipsy on alcohol bought for the occasion. Percy and Annabeth, of course, were kissing, and probably not stopping soon. Leo was being showered with overdramatic kisses by a few drunken partygoers, one looking suspiciously like Jason, with most of them not even landing on his lips. Piper, rolling her eyes fondly, pulled in an ecstatic looking Stoll Brother. Her brother, on her other side, was attached to the other Stoll brother - neither of them being very distinguishable from only their wild curls.

Hazel and Frank, neither whom were much fans of PDA, shared a sweet, chaste kiss that would have given anyone looking automatic cavities.

Even Reyna, who usually saw herself above things like this, laughed and shared a quick peck with Jason’s older sister, Thalia.

And Will and Nico, with nearly no one around them now, remained pressed together during the next minute. They didn’t seem to notice the countdown ending, or the eruption of literal fireworks blasting over their heads, not even when another couple knocked into them roughly, a rougher apology only following.

They only noticed each other.

Nico was noticing how Will shuttered a bit as Nico pulled on his hair a bit, and the strong lines of the other boy’s chest.

Will was noticing how Nico’s breath would hitch as Will’s hands smoothed over Nico’s chest, and how Nico’s hand tightened on his hips as Will pressed them impossibility closer.

Only each other.

They laid there in bed that night, both still a bit reeling after that kiss, even when they’d been separated by Piper’s sharp laugh, too close, as she teasingly pointed out their heavy necking session. Even when they both awkwardly pulled apart from each other, their movements jerky and unsure, and pretended to enjoy the rest of the party.

Nico, of course, was determined to go about it the correct way – which happened to be completely ignoring what had happened. He had no idea where his phone was – it happened to be tucked inside one of the couch cushions he’d had a minor freak out on afterwards where it would remains for several more hours – but if he had it, he would see the few increasingly drunken texts from Jason, along with one from Leo and a voicemail from Piper, each demanding to know when he’d actually started dating his date-for-hire.

Nico was grateful for the little things, and the fact he didn’t find his phone until tomorrow evening, as he would have thought of nothing else for the entire night, was one of them.

He went about his bedtime routine, refusing even to turn his back to change his shirt despite his burning cheeks, mostly because he hadn’t the night before and he was trying to convince himself that everything was the same as before.

Of course it wasn’t, and Will’s eyes would still linger nonetheless.

They laid next to each other, just as stiff as the first night, and it was horribly silent for a long few minutes as each refused to speak or relax. They both stared at the ceiling, the lighting dim, and felt unsure.

“You know, um.” Will began, “I was just thinking over the contract. It’s so extensive sometimes I forget what’s in it, like one of my political science friends wrote it up for me – I’m really bad with this kind of stuff, you know – anyways, sometimes I forget everything that’s in it and –“

“Will.” Nico interrupted, sitting up and facing the other boy in the dark. “Spit it out.”

“The contract covers holiday events and traditions.” Will blurted out, following Nico’s example and sitting up. “Like, if your family has a holiday tradition I’m obligated to go along with it and everything.”

Nico frowned at the other boy. “Why are you telling me this? You’ve been going along with all our stuff.”

Will sighed, a bit frustrated, mostly embarrassed by gods know what. “It means…” Will hesitated for a second, “It means that the New Year's kiss would be covered by that. It’s like a tradition everywhere, right? So like, it wouldn’t count towards your…allotted amount.”

Nico gave himself a moment to process that. “You’re saying I still have one more kiss left? “

Will bit his lip, looking unsure once again. “Yes.” He seemed to decide. “You still have one more kiss left. If you want it.”

“Oh.” Nico only said, blinking. “Oh, that’s…good.”

Will turned away, focusing on his knees. “Yeah, um, so like if you want another display of PDA for your family. Or, um. We could always do it, um. We could do it now if you want.”

Nico seemed to be in the business of one worded responses nowadays. “Now?” He questioned, his voice high. His mind, short-circuiting, could only think of the fact that he just brushed his teeth.

“Yeah, uh,” Will sounded even more unsure than before, badly covered up by forced nonchalance. “It could, um, help us with our chemistry. So like, they see we’re compatible.”

“Chemistry?” Nico only repeated dumbly, his mind racing.

“Yeah.” Will nodded, seemingly running out of words. “Yeah, uh. Yeah.”

Nico took a moment to gather himself and all the information just thrust as him. “Okay.” He only breathed out after a long moment. “That sounds good.”

They sat there, now facing each other in the dim light.

Nico bit his lip, his confidence from only a few hours ago seemingly left behind in the old year. He leaned forward just a bit, unsure whether to close his eyes, and that queue seemed to be all Will needed.

The other boy leaned in, probably too quickly, and brushed his lips against Nico’s, the movement in itself labeled hesitation.

This was so much different then everything they’d had before – the chaste peck in front of Nico’s family, the teasing kiss for Nico’s friends, different even from the New Year's kiss they’d shared hours before.

This was –

This was what a first kiss was.

Will’s lips were warm against Nico’s, soft and still holding an element of uncertainly as he pulled away, his nose brushing against Nico’s as they stayed in position, both breathing a bit too rough for the modest action.

And Nico considered what would happen next.

They’d pull away, eventually fall asleep to the awkward air. They’d wake up tomorrow and avoid each other’s eyes and go through the day as a couple. They’d pack tomorrow night and be on a plane the next morning. Nico would probably never see the other boy again. Nico would probably never kiss the other boy again.

Nico’s shut his eyes, and Will was still close enough that Nico could feel his breath against his face at every exhale.

If this was the last time Nico was ever going to kiss Will, it wasn’t going to be like that.

He opened his eyes, them alight with a certain determination as he reached out and settled his hand on the back of Will’s neck. He pulled the other boy in, making his last kiss count for something more than the obligation Will had signed away on.

It wasn’t as dirty as before, nor as chaste or as sweet or funny as it ever had been.

It was a kiss where Nico was memorizing the way Will opened up eagerly to him, the way Will lightly bit at his bottom lip, the way Will’s hand automatically came up to mirror Nico’s on his neck.

Will leaned back, taking Nico with him, and pressed back as Nico poured more of himself into the kiss.

Unknown to each other, each boy was desperately trying to seer the memory of the kiss into their minds, desperately accounting for every detail, because each boy was certain it was the last.

They woke up the next morning, avoiding each other eyes, and went about.

At the bottom of the staircase, Will grabbed onto Nico’s hand just as Persephone would sweep into the room, and he’d hold on too tight.

And Nico did the same.

Tonight, they were to pack and separate their clothes and belongings. Will would be packing a new soft, feeling sweatshirt, a carefully folded certificate with a sticker of wax, a small boot shaped mug long since cleaned, along with a horribly ugly neon-haired child’s toy, and tried not to think about how he’d be feeling when he unpacked it.

Notes:

will that's the worst excuse to kiss a boy i've ever heard how dareee you hashtag spoilers for a 150 year old book\musical lol also MORE SONG OF ACHILLES READ IT PLS also hades and persephone will use eVERY OPPORTUNITY THEY CAN to be extra as hell trust me i love family !!!! and friendship!!! wholesome relationships!!! i had to google food challenges for this. have you ever seen the show 'man vs. food'? no? u lucky soul. u lucky, lucky soul. also the midnight nye kiss was maybe, like, the third scene I wrote for this fic. it's been a-brewin' for awhile. next: feelings!!! ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS JFC. CONVERSATIONS ABOUT FEELINGS. EMOTIONS. jfc. almost the end. it's been a crazy, nerdy ride y'all and seriously, i've loved it. thank you thank you THANK YOU for all your incredible support. I started this fic as a really lonely, kinda depressed university student on my own for the first time and now, because of this fic, I'm made a ton of great friends and improved my writing so well. thank you so much y'all for reading or liking or commenting or messaging me on tumblr or following. if this fic helps ya even fraction of what it did for me, even if it just brightens an hour of your day, then I'll count it as a roaring success. thank you. <3.

[jessieleaf]

Episode 99 reaction

Like everyone else, I have lots of feelings. I will most certainly go in order for this. First off, Pike is fucking amazing. Skipping ahead a little, I loved that Tary got full control over the house. It lets him legally decide what to do and it legitimizes his control. Now his father can't really say no since Tary is the one officially letting his family stay in the house. Sleepover part 2. Joke all you want about Vax and Keyleth being weird with animal forms, I personally think it's cute and harmless and they do what they wanna do behind closed doors leave them be. Also Pike got to be apart of the pillow fort this time. I'm going to draw all the things. The next morning's conversation. Holy moly I knew that it would be bad, but Matt's face, that silent rage that grew as Tary talked. That was scary and I'd hate to get on Matt's bad side that was scary. Tary also coming out with everything he has learned and wanting to right the wrongs his Family did? I...like man I love how much he has developed. And then going through what everyone has taught him? I can kinda see how Vax can be like a father but Grog kinda stumps me...but everyone else was dead on and then....Percy...like we all knew but to hear him confirm it was...that was excellent. I was very happy to see Howart finally come around. I'm glad there was a concession on his part. There was nothing he could do and he needed to accept it. The deed was done and he probably got the best he could have given the circumstances. Moving on, I was really sad to hear Tary say he wanted to stay, but I also perked up at that, because that would either mean another new character from Sam, or it meant...Scanlan. That whole deception thing threw me through a loop. I thought it was him with an illusion coming down the stairs, but Matt was playing him, so I didn't suspect...until he finally mentioned the origins of his name. Then I knew. Man...As soon as Vex knew, he...that little move to Modify her memory? No. You've been using that spell on the regular. You've been wiping minds and changing people's thoughts to get what you want and it's become second nature. And now you use it in the people who trust you the most. Who accepted you despite all your faults. Your family...the girl who looked to you like a father. Glad you didn't succeed. But the intent was there and Vex was hurt by that. You are in for something when that girl snaps, and trust me, it's gonna hurt worse than most. So everyone comes out and there is now a realization from Grog and Pike. And silence. You could feel that energy, it was palpable though the screen. Grog then seeing Lionel with Scanlan? That. Is. Fucking. Terrible. You can argue that Vox Machina replaced Scanlan with Tary, but that is so not true and they've made it abundantly clear what Tary is to them and how unlike Scanlan he actually is. So Grog now feels betrayed. After he stuck up for Scanlan, this is how he is treated? Like he could be replaced with another Barbarian who is also a Bard? Grog helped bring you back, he respected your privacy for a while. He wanted to give you space. But now it looks like you've replaced him with a better version So now we can get into everyone's reactions. Tary, who is indifferent, focuses more on how accepting Vox Machina are of Lionel than they were of him. Vax was...well Vax had forgiven Scanlan long ago and was elated. He knew they'd meet again and wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to catch up. Keyleth recognized the tension and was probably the most outwardly angry, but it was still pretty subdued and she was probably a little bit in shock. Percy trying desperately to maintain the high ground. Like Grog, and probably the rest of VM, he felt betrayed but was having a hard time trying to figure out why he wasn't more angry. He was even trying to sort out his thoughts and seek advice from his significant other. The comment about Sybil was amazing and a great gut punch. His gradual coming to terms will probably lead him to forgive a lot sooner but the way he left that tavern speaks volume for how he will treat Scanlan in the future. Moving on to the silent crowd...Pike and Grog. Scanlan knew that they'd be difficult to crack so he didn't address them first. He saw their silence and accepted it for a while. But Grog's seething rage as Lionel sat down to drink with him? That was so palpable, I was leaning closer to the screen the whole time. Then, as soon as that Awkward fight came to a head with some strange moves from Lionel, It shook Grog enough to take him out of his rage and send him away. CAT! C-A-T! That was everything. That broke my heart. Pike dragged Scanlan. She dragged him so hard and I applaud Ashley, that girl can do no wrong. Scanlan was right about a few things when he left, but Pike deserved none of that. She hadn't done anything to have Scanlan inflict those hurtful words on her. She called all of his bullshit and took him down. Good on her. Nothing is forgiven, but at least they understand one another and can work from a common ground of understanding. And lastly...the other amazing Liar in the group. Vex, so clearly acting as if she forgave him, fooling her brother, fooling her significant other...but she is so broken. She has to be. Scanlan insulted her personally. He has been on her mind for so long and as soon as he shows up he wants her to forget? To cover up his ruse? Oh man that was the final nail in the coffin for me. She was acting through the whole ordeal that she was trying to forgive, and it may turn out that she does. But...I can't see that happening. He came back and the first thing he does is try to modify her memory. A family member. Someone she thought he trusted. Someone she looked to for advice sometimes. Someone who she loves. He tried to break all of that with a single spell. I'm...to me that is the worst betrayal. He never apologized for that. He assumed Vex was fine, with her open attitude and jubilant words, welcoming him back. But I see a Vex haunted by that moment, a Vex reliving the words he said when he left. I see a Vex hiding it until something snaps and she goes beserk on him. I don't see the forgiveness lasting. I see a broken girl desperate to try and hold things together. I Can't Wait. Now, as for the rest of the stuff that happened, we now have the beginning of the final arc. With no message from the Raven Queen, Vax has begun to see the fates beginning to align. Scanlan is back and Vecna's ritual has now been successful in another temple. Who knows what has happened in that two week span. We also have Vex and Percy with a little secret. Pregnancy? Marriage? I wonder what those two are keeping from everyone else, and why Vex has chosen to keep it from her brother. Lionel was perfect, I applaud tonight's guest and found his performance immensely entertaining. Sam was freaking phenomenal. He hit all the right story points and played all of his cards as best he could. He performed at 110% and evoked so many emotions. Thank you man, and you and Matt are terrible people who toy with our minds. Sigh Ok I'm done.

[attilarrific]

HI I’M BACK.

Uh, sorry. I lack discipline, who’s surprised. Which reminds me, I need to actually take my iron pills, so that I stop needing to sleep fourteen hours a day. I’m gonna do that in just a minute. (I should really just start keeping them in my bedroom, I only ever remember once I’m comfortable and don’t want to get up.)

Anyway, because @acommonrose​ is a horrible enabler, I’m now semi-plotting out a really long fic that’s, like, serious. Where serious things happen. This is not my forte, so I genuinely have no idea how much I’ll write before I get fed up/bored/frustrated/distracted, but. It’s more CR fic, those of you who followed me for that may rejoice (or not), and it has soulmates (but kind of in a...subverted way) and also Vesh and way more plot than I’m actually comfortable trying to write. It also takes place in an AU where VM never joined up and started adventuring together, and instead are separated into a few disparate groups.

But I did write the entire prologue tonight, for fun (which makes word count, yes), and the ENTIRE THING is under the cut, because I feel bad it’s been so long since I made one of these posts. I’m not modeling appropriate habits.

I don’t know if I’m going to finish this, but treat it is as a fun blurb for a fic that might happen. (Scanlan, tragically, does not appear, but I promise he’s in the fic eventually.) And, hey, it’s a lot more unedited writing than I normally show anyone who isn’t Rose, so really, all of you are very special. Every one of you.

Snippet ENTIRE PROLOGUE under the cut, for obvious length reasons.

The road, somewhere between Westruun and Kymal:

Pike wakes up screaming, incoherent, and not even sure why. She’s vaguely aware of Grog’s hands on her shoulders, shaking her, and she can hear his voice shouting her name, but she can’t see him—she can’t see anything past the blackness, past the destruction, past the end of the world that’s coming for them all—

Pike.

She knows that voice, knows it better than her grandfather’s or Grog’s or the sound of her own breathing, even though she rarely hears it.

Breathe, child.

She tries and chokes, coughing hard. Vaguely, in the background, she feels an enormous hand slap her briskly on the back. When she tries to speak, she chokes again, swallowing until her throat hurts less. “Where?” she says, her hands reaching out in front of her, trying to grasp a weapon. Someone—Grog, it must be Grog—takes them both and holds them tight. “Where’s it coming from?”

Emon.

“Emon,” she whispers. “What happened?”

But Sarenrae is gone, and her vision clears—Grog, above her, cradling her in his arms, holding her tight, silhouetted against the setting sun and the embers of their dying fire.

“Pike?” he says. “Buddy?”

“I’m back,” she says, to reassure him, focusing her eyes on his. “I’m back—oh, Grog.”

And he holds her tight while she sobs desperately into his arms, one huge hand like a warm hat on her head as he wraps his arms around her. “Did you have a bad dream?” he says quietly, sounding confused, once she’s calmed down again. “Was it about that demon that killed you? I have bad dreams about that sometimes.”

“No,” she says, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. She touches the band around a wrist like a talisman, wiggling a finger under it so that she can just feel where she knows the first letter of the name is. Then she touches her holy symbol, closing her eyes and praying. Sarenrae doesn’t speak this time, but she feels the warmth and light of her presence. “No, it wasn’t a—I felt it, through my connection to Sarenrae. There’s something—something’s gone terribly wrong. We have to go to Emon.”

“Okay,” Grog says immediately, without asking, and she smiles. Her best friend, her brother.

“There’s going to be a hell of a fight,” she says.

“Oh,” he says. “Hell, yeah.”

An inn, on the Silvercut Roadway:

“I feel like you don’t need another one,” Percy says, sounding amused, his chin in his hand as he watches her. He’s still on his first ale, which just goes to show his terrible judgment.

“I feel like you’re not my real mom,” Keyleth retorts, sticking her tongue out at him.

“You don’t know that,” he says, smiling at her. “Maybe I left before you were born.”

“Maybe you—hang on. That doesn’t make any sense.”

He laughs, opening his mouth to say something probably disparaging, and then there’s a muffled boom and the ground shakes beneath them. He frowns, reaching a hand out to steady her as she practically pitches off the bench. “Earthquake? I didn’t think we got many earthquakes.”

She swallows, trying to push down the sudden spike of nausea. “Didn’t feel right for an earthquake.” She rubs her forehead. “Let’s go outside a minute.”

Percy grabs her arm when she wobbles, catching her weight and helping her walk out the door. “I feel like you definitely don’t need another one,” he says, his voice warm, and she makes a face.

“Shut up,” she says, and then she sees the horizon and her mouth drops open. She feels Percy come to a halt next to her, staring in the same direction.

“Is that…Emon?” he says, sounding horrified.

There’s a column of black smoke rising into the air, muddying the sunset.

Keyleth sits down hard, feeling the reassuring thud of hard earth underneath her, Percy’s suddenly lax grip falling away from her arm. “But we just came from there,” she says numbly.

“What happened?” Percy says, and she just shakes her head—no, I don’t know; no, I don’t want to know; no, make it stop; no.

“We have to go back,” she says, and she doesn’t have to look up to see him nod.

Underground, in a beholder’s cave, outside Vasselheim:

Vax feels like the cave is still echoing with his words, Take me instead, you Raven Bitch, but maybe that’s just his imagination. His sister—his sister, his heart, his life—is lying still and limp, her head in Zahra’s lap, her back arched over the cold stone cave, while Kash bends over her, clutching his holy symbol. The scars on his arm are still glowing, dimly, with an ugly red light.

“Kash,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Kash, please—” His voice breaks, and he presses his lips together. He tastes salt from a tear he hadn’t even felt fall.

“Shut up,” Kash says. “Shut up, stupid, I’ve got this.”

“Shh,” Zahra says, one of her hands brushing hair out of Vex’s face. Vax wishes she wouldn’t. It makes Vex look too clean, too put together. Vex’s hair is always a mess, always falling into her eyes, it should still be— “Shh,” Zahra says again. She breathes in, a harsh, gasping thing that Vax can hear, and he realizes that she’s crying too.

“I’ve got this,” Kash repeats. “Come on, come on, come on, Vex—”

And Vex’s eyes open and breath fills her body.

“What happened?” she says, her eyes meeting his.

Zahra breathes out, and it catches on what sounds like a hysterical laugh. “Hello, darling.”

“I feel so cold,” Vex says, looking up at him.

Vax puts a hand on the side of her throat, just to feel her heart, the way it’s beating, gloriously, and says, “You were knocked out,” because he can’t bring himself to say anything else.

“Kash?” Zahra suddenly says sharply. “Kashaw?”

Vex pushes herself up a little, bracing on her elbows, and Vax tears his gaze away from her beautiful, vibrant face to look across at Kash, who’s—who’s fallen back, his face white and his whole body shaking violently as he stares sightlessly into the distance.

“Kash,” he says, reaching a hand out to grab his shoulder.

Kash flinches away from him, hard, but his eyes focus again, and his throat works as he swallows several times, staring at them.

“What is it, darling?” Vex says. “What’s going on?”

Kash licks his lips, but he can’t seem to say anything.

“Kash,” Zahra says again, and Vax can feel the fear building in him again. He’d thought his body was made of relief, in that moment when Vex came alive again, but it’s washing away with each horrified blink of Kash’s eyes.

“She’s here,” Kash croaks out, finally. “She’s here, I let her in.”

“Who’s here?” Vex says, but Vax already knows.

She’ll destroy the world, Kash’d said, and he hadn’t cared, had said, Do it, do it, do it.

“Vesh,” he says faintly. “We let Vesh in.”

“She’s here?” Zahra says.

After a long moment, Kash shakes his head. “No—no, not Vasselheim, it’s too—there’s too many gods here. Too much power. She’s somewhere else.” He blinks again, looking away, at the wall. To the east. “She’s in Emon.”

[paulblofish]

For the lovely anon who asked “can you write jercy when they are secretly dating and decide to come out under ridiculous circumstances” on @pjofluffguard ! Hope this is what you wanted! (hah take that @ ashlee and dan we’re fighting back) 

See, the thing about secretly dating was that you had to be conspicuous. And although Jason and Percy seemed to think conspicuous was their middle name, having gods for fathers really didn’t help their case.

When Percy first asked Jason to be his boyfriend, when they were tangled up in a makeshift fort on Percy’s bed in the middle of the night, a lightning storm appeared. Jason couldn’t stop grinning, and couldn’t stop saying that yes, of course, there was nothing in the world he wanted more (“shut up Jason, you’ve said it five times already, we’re already together”) and just outside the camps weather-protected walls rain pelted the earth relentlessly.

The first time Jason hugged Percy, long before they started dating and just when Percy started to realize that a lip scar was the most beautiful thing in the world, faucets in the bathroom a few yards away started to go haywire. A poor, unsuspecting Hecate kid got a jet of water right between the eyes.

The first time they kissed, lake water jumped so high that it touched the sky, and together, the water and air raged the first bad weather seen inside the camp’s borders in years.

Today, the wind brushes the top of the water as the two boys walk along the beach, touching the the waves in the same soft way that Jason rests his hand on Percy’s arm.

“We can’t hide this forever.” Jason is adamant, but he keeps his voice lowered in case more campers decide to come down this way. “I really want to be able to do this -” he leans in and kisses Percy, soft and quiet, and the wind picks up a little more, “-in front of everyone else. Our friends deserve to know. Leo, Grover, Annabeth, Piper, Nico … I hate lying to them all the time.”

“I know but, we’ve been together, like, what, three months now? And honestly, telling everyone that we’ve been hiding for three whole months will make them flip. I, for one, do not want to be on Leo’s bad side when the guy can literally set himself on fire.”

“Okay, but then what? We never tell them and then live our entire lives in secret? What about when we’re adults? Then what?”

“Listen, you know better than anyone that our friends have really good aim, Brick Boy.”

Jason opens his mouth to complain, but Percy shushes him. “I know, I know, I kid. But really, Jace, we’ve got to catch them off guard - and, actually …. You know, I think I’ve got the  perfect plan.”

A groan. “This doesn’t involve me cleaning up after your mess, does it? Because that seems like what I always do whenever you make plans.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you’re here for.” Percy winks at him and starts to saunter off, but the wind knocks him back into his boyfriend. Jason rolls over Percy, pressing him into the sand, aa he presses his face into his neck.

“Take that back!” Jason’s voice is muffled, but Percy’s loud laughter isn’t. Next to them, the tide curls back in delight.

The plan, as it turns out, is just as stupid as Jason suspected. It involved public humiliation and the need for several bedsheet togas. As head counselors, it was their duty to meet with the other heads and teach a piece of history to the younger campers at campfires. Usually, this involved a small lecture from Travis until nobody could sit still any longer and the marshmallows were handed out. Tonight, though, is a full-blown, costume-clad play about the Trojan War. The play is supposed to be ready to go in a few short hours, and practice is in full swing.

“This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,” remarks Clarisse, throwing her spear to the ground. “I say we forgo it and just read again.”

“Shut up, Odysseus. You’re just jealous because you don’t end up with me in the final scene.” Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Besides, this is literally the most famous story in Greek history. We can’t just read it, we have to act it.”

“I never knew you were so passionate about theater, Percy,” Chiron says, watching from the sidelines.

“Yeah, well,” Percy rubs the back of his neck, avoiding Jason’s eyes. If all goes well, the play should end with the two of them running into each other’s arms as the curtains close. They are, after all, Helen and Menelaus, the duo that not even a whole war could rip apart. And if they performed an unscripted kiss at the end, then it would be a perfect plot to reveal their secret to the whole camp.

Time flies, and soon enough dinner has come and gone. Behind the scenes, Piper finishes pinning Percy’s dress together. “Are you okay?” she asks. “You look really nervous. Do you want to sit out? Or switch characters? Is it because you’re wearing a dress?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Okay, good, because honestly you look really good in this dress and I’d hate to take it off.”

“Do I? Like, look good in it?”

Piper waggles her eyebrows at him. “Why, who are you trying to impress, lover boy?”

“No one, I mean -” Percy stutters, because how did she know that he was thinking of Jason?

“Sorry, that was mean of me. Come on, let’s get into position, we’re about to start.”

Percy walks over to where Jason is sitting in a tin foil crown. “Hey,” Jason grins as Percy takes a seat in the throne next to his. “Are you okay? We can still call this off, you know. We don’t have to do this. Sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you into this.”

“No, it’s fine.” Percy’s face is set. “Besides, I pushed you into the whole play thing, too. We can do this.” Percy gives Jason’s hand a quick squeeze as the curtains part.

The play runs relatively smoothly, without too many props falling down. The campers love it, and the actors are having fun on stage as well. Everyone laughs as Percy twirls so that his skirt flares out, and he has to hold back a smile himself when he sees Jason’s cheeks turning pink. When Will, dressed as Paris, ‘kidnaps’ Percy later in the play, Jason can’t help the tiny flare of resentment he feels toward the Apollo kid before laughing it off.

By the time the Trojan Horse comes onstage (Chiron himself, much to everyone’s glee), both Percy and Jason start to feel nervous. All too soon, the Greeks have won, Rachel and Connor are covered in ketchup and playing dead on the ground, and it’s time. From his position as narrator, Mr. D drones on about the Greek’s victorious arrival home. It’s time.

Percy takes a deep breath, then throws himself across the stage. Jason turns around, a big smile on his face as Percy collapses in his arms, far more uncoordinated than the real Helen of Troy ever would be. He meets Jason’s eyes, and winks, standing up straight in order to kiss him. Jason responds immediately, arms looping around Percy’s back as cheers erupt around them.

They pull apart, already breathless, and look around them. Though the audience is on their feet and clapping, the entire cast is gazing at them open mouthed, all except for Nico and Annabeth who exchange smug, knowing smiles.

“Also,” Percy begins, knuckles white from gripping Jason’s arms so long, “We’ve been dating for like, three months, and didn’t tell anyone because we’re horrible people. So yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair, causing Piper’s carefully arranged flowers to come out. “I should not have said that. Jason, let’s leave right now because Leo looks like he wants to kill me.”

Instead, Jason laughs, hooking an arm under Percy’s legs and lifting him up. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, Helen.” Jason leans in to kiss him again, and stands on his toes, willing the wind to pick them up. The cheering has become louder, this time joined by all all of friends below them.

As they clear the top of the stage, Jason calls down one final line. “Just a disclaimer, guys - this is not how it actually went. Menelaus couldn’t fly, and therefore I’m a lot cooler than him. Bye!” He shoots up further, towards the lake, far away enough that the now thunderous applause could no longer reach them.

“Everyone is totally going to murder us once you land,” Percy says, laughing.

“Good thing I can stay up here for a long time, then.”

This time it’s Percy who lifts his face up to meet Jason’s, and this time, there are no young campers they have to censor themselves around.

Just outside the camp’s borders, water swirls and thunder rumbles.