#but Percy probably would’ve found him annoying anyway

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

Instead of the “Jason vs Percy” rivalry we should have gotten Annabeth vs. Jason but instead of a fight for power it’s them having a battle of autism cause their special interests were Greek myths vs Roman myths.

Jason calls a Greek god by their Roman name and Annabeth pops up out of nowhere and goes “erm, actually”

The 7 is talking about some landmark and Annabeth and Jason start arguing about which pantheon it was dedicated to.

“It’s amazing right? It was dedicated to Athena.” “Erm, it was actually built for Mars…”

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #30

Orion Amari x MC

A/N: Lovely Julian Bennett belongs to the even more lovely @slytherindisaster

Word Count: ~ 4.000

___________________________________________

Chapter 30: Making Amends

The conversations with Orion and Skye kept gnawing at Lizzie over the next few days. In their own ways, both of them had made it clear to her how important it was to get back on track; not only for herself, but for the general good of their team as well.

Thinking about what they had said, Lizzie realised how much of an open door they had been pushing; there was nothing she wanted more than things to return to their normal state, so she could have all of her friends back. And if making amends would help increase her performance, all the better.

There wasn’t much she could do about either Rowan or Orion at this point, so Lizzie had started thinking about how to get back into Charlie's good books.

Skye had suggested a gesture of goodwill to make him listen to her and after contemplating her advice for a few days, an idea had started to form in Lizzie’s mind.

After sending a few owls back and forth, she now found herself in the hallway of the Eastern Tower. She had been standing in front of the portrait hole hiding the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room for quite some time now, engaged in a heated discussion with the Fat Lady, the occupant of the picture guarding the portrait hole.

“I really don’t see the problem,” Lizzie rolled her eyes; she had forgotten just how many times she had done this in the last half hour. “I don’t even know if he’s in. Can’t you just go inside and have a look? Or ask another portrait for all that it’s worth?”

The Fat Lady huffed indignantly, fluffing herself up to an even greater volume than she held anyway. “And leave my post unguarded? No way, young lady. I still don’t understand what a Hufflepuff is doing here in the first place.”

She gestured at Lizzie’s attire dismissively. It was the evening before the match and the pre-match party was scheduled to start immediately after dinner. Lizzie was already dressed in her yellow jersey from last season and a black letterman jacket bearing her name and number on the back; it had been a combined birthday gift from her friends back in November.

Lizzie buried her hands in the pocket of her jacket now, feeling the rough parchment of the letter she was carrying. “I told you, I’m looking for Charlie.”

“From what I hear, you have a match against my House tomorrow,” the Fat Lady squinted down at her suspiciously, “you have no business here.”

“Your House?” Lizzie asked with an amused undertone. “You’re a portrait, you are just guarding the entrance.”

“Careful missy,” the portrait puffed and slung her pink feather boa over her shoulder; it made her look like an inflated bird of paradise. “I’ve guarded this Common Room a lot longer than you are around; these are basically my children!”

Knowing that a fight wouldn’t help her much, Lizzie hung her head and sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” she tried a different approach. “I really just want to apologise to my friend.”

Lizzie pinched the bridge of her nose; this was taking a lot longer than she had anticipated. The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention; Percy was walking down the corridor towards them, his arms stacked with way more books than what looked comfortable to carry.

“What are you doing here?” he barked at her haughtily; Lizzie had to stifle a laugh at the show the little boy she’d known for ages by now was putting on. He had always been a little bit more stuck up than his brothers, but this new persona he was putting on since coming to Hogwarts certainly wasn’t the most pleasant one.

“Hey Perce,” she greeted him sardonically. “You’ve been to the library?”

“I asked you a question,” Percy insisted. The way he was acting up was too comical for Lizzie not to chuckle; angry red spots appeared on the boy’s pale cheeks.

“This is the Gryffindor Common Room,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “Last time I looked, the Hufflepuff Common Room was down in the dungeons.”

Shaking her head, Lizzie rolled her eyes at Percy. “You don’t say, Percy. Do you know if Charlie’s in there?” She pointed her thumb towards the entrance.

Percy sniffled at being laughed at by her. “No, I don’t know if my brother is in the Common Room.”

Slowly but surely, Lizzie was getting annoyed by the constant delay. “Well, could you go and have a look please?”

“What business do you have with him anyway? I don’t think he wants to talk to you.”

Lizzie crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at Charlie’s younger brother. “Don’t you think that’s best for him to decide?”

Percy opened his mouth to shoot back but got cut off by the familiar figure of Julian Bennett approaching them. The Gryffindor Beater raised his eyebrows at the unusual gathering in front of him.

“Hey, Lizzie,” he greeted her with a pat on the back. “I didn’t expect to see you here; isn’t the pre-match party going down soon?”

Julian’s casual demeanour felt awkward to Lizzie; they hadn’t really talked to each other since her falling out with Charlie, but she was glad for it all the same. It was nice to see a friendly face that was wearing crimson-and-gold for a change.

“Julian, thank Godric you’re here; finally someone with a bit of sense.” Her eyes were shooting daggers at Percy, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I’ve been looking for Charlie for some time now; do you know where he is?”

“What do you want from him?”

“There’s some things I wanted to get out of the way before tomorrow.” She ran her finger along the edge of the letter in her pocket.

Julian nodded. “I see; let me see if I can round him up.”

He turned to the Fat Lady. “Gryphon,” he told her the password, much to the dismay of Percy. But Julian simply ignored his complaints and vanished behind the portrait.

“Was that so hard?” Lizzie couldn’t help but mutter under her breath.

Only a few moments later, the portrait swung aside again and Julian emerged with a scowling Charlie in tow.

Still miffed at the situation, Percy made no move to leave, so Julian simply shoved him back into the Common Room to give Lizzie and Charlie some space.

When they were alone, Charlie looked her up and down dismissively. He raised his chin defiantly. “What do you want?”

Lizzie glanced at the portrait of the Fat Lady, who seemed to be awfully interested in her fingernails all of a sudden. “Could we go someplace more private?”

But Charlie merely crossed his arms in front of his chest. “No,” he brushed her off brusquely. “Listen, I’ve got to prepare for tomorrow; say what you came to say or leave me alone.”

Lizzie tried not to be discouraged by his resentment; she couldn’t even blame him for it. If she were in his place, she probably would have acted the same way.

“Tomorrow is what I want to talk to you about, in a way,” she sighed, inherently hoping he would listen to her apology. “We’ve never faced each other on the pitch while fighting, we were always seeing eye to eye. I don’t want to start this now.”

Charlie’s arms were still crossed but Lizzie could see a bit of tension leave his shoulders; maybe there was a bit of hope to set things right.

“So?”

She drew a deep breath. “I know I acted like a total idiot and I want to apologise; I should never have doubted you and your intentions and it was very wrong of me to lash out at you for trying to cheer me up when I didn’t even tell you how upset I really was. I was hurt and confused and none of this is your fault and for the record, I’d happily play with all of the magical creatures for the rest of our time here with you because without you, it’s not the same.”

The words had stumbled out of her mouth in a quick rush without giving her the opportunity to breathe in between her sentences; she was too afraid to forget something.

After she was done, Charlie just stood there with an unmoving expression on his face. The longer he didn’t say anything, the more scared Lizzie got that he wouldn’t accept her apology.

But then, the smallest of smiles tugged at Charlie’s lips. “Did you rehearse that?”

Lizzie blushed slightly as relief that he didn’t dismiss her right away washed over her. “Maybe,” she admitted sheepishly. “Listen, Charlie, I’m sorry for how I behaved; I miss you. I miss spending time with you, I miss all your random dragon facts you’re throwing at me and I miss you setting my head straight when I need you to. I don’t want to go out and play against you tomorrow when we can’t look each other in the eye.”

Charlie’s freckled features went soft at her admission. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I know you’d never use me or my feelings for your own advantage; it was wrong to assume that.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you for saying that.” He looked at her for a moment, contemplating. “I can’t say what I said was a lie, though. You did change a lot this year. But that’s not what rubbed me the wrong way,” he quickly added as she winced.

“What stung was the fact that you were trying to hide these changes,” he explained. “You didn’t trust me enough to be honest with me.”

“I was scared to tell you because you know me better than anyone else does,” Lizzie replied quietly. “I was afraid you’d call me out and tell me all the stuff I didn’t want to hear.”

“Oh, I certainly would have,” Charlie confirmed matter-of-factly.

“Of course you would have,” Lizzie sighed. “Who knows, maybe the outcome would’ve been better if I had been honest with myself in the first place.”

Charlie shrugged. “Maybe, but we’re not going to find out now. What’s done is done; no use fretting over the past, like my mum always says. But in any case, I’m glad you plucked up the courage to acknowledge your mistakes. Perhaps there’s still more of the old Lizzie in there than I thought after all,” he said with a small grin.

It lessened a little as he continued, “Just don’t lie to me again, please. If you can’t even trust your friends, you’re truly in a really bad place.”

Her eyes were serious as she placed her hand on his forearm. “I promise, no more lies; you can trust me, I’m done running from my problems.”

She reached into the pocket of her jacket and procured the letter she had kept hidden. Smoothing the slightly crinkled envelope for a second, she held it out to Charlie.

“See, I even brought you a present.”

Charlie took it from her with a surprised face. He turned the heavy envelope around, raising one eyebrow as he discovered the logo of the Ministry of Magic printed on the back of it.

“What is that?”

“That,” Lizzie grinned broadly, “is my official offer of peace.”

Charlie looked at her sceptically.

“That was Skye’s idea,” Lizzie added with a shrug. “She thought you’d might give me a chance if I bribed you with something nice.”

Charlie shook his head as he broke the red wax seal. “Just when I thought I’d seen it all… “

His voice trailed off as he started reading the contents of the letter. Eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open, he read the letter two more times.

“Is that… “ he started croaking before clearing his throat. “Is that what I think it is?”

Lizzie tried her best not to look smug but she couldn’t help the wide grin that had appeared on her face watching Charlie read the letter.

“It is,” she confirmed. “Fresh from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It arrived this morning.”

One of the Christmas presents she had gotten from her father this year had been a special one; working for the Ministry, he had gotten wind of an internship place being open with some of the Ministry’s dragonologists; they were supposed to conduct a study on the mating behaviour of Welsh Greens over the summer and were looking for helping hands.

Knowing her interest in Care of Magical Creatures, her father had put her name down without telling her, presenting her with the acceptance letter on Christmas Day.

Lizzie knew she owed her father big time for helping her realise her plan in such a short span of time; he had moved heaven and hell and deployed all of his Ministry contacts to make sure the name on the internship letter had gotten changed.

Charlie was still in a bit of a shock as he looked from the letter to her and back again.

“But this is your internship,” he whispered hoarsely, “you have been talking about this for months. These spots are so rare; are you sure you really want to give it to me?”

Lizzie nodded in confirmation. “Yes, I am. This is my way of saying sorry; and you deserve this spot a thousand times more than I do.” The way she smiled at him was uncharacteristically shy for her somehow. “Besides, after the career advice session I’m not sure I want to go down the magizoologist route anyway.”

“You don’t?”

A blush spread on Lizzie’s face; admitting her career plans out loud for the first time sounded foolish to her ears. “I thought, I might perhaps want to try going for a professional Quidditch career.” She strongly hoped Charlie wouldn’t laugh.

But he only winked at her with an encouraging grin. “As far as I can say, you’d definitely have what it takes, chipmunk.”

As he heard the stupid little nickname leaves his mouth, Lizzie’s mouth curved into a brilliant, hopeful smile. “So you officially accept my apology?”

He waved the letter in her face. “You bet I do. I might even take you out for dinner now.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making Lizzie giggle.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, I found this amazing new place the other day. It’s called ‘The Great Hall’; it’s usually a bit crowded this time of the day, but I hear they have amazing sandwiches.”

Lizzie felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders as they both started laughing at the same time. All the resentment that had been brewing between them had vanished in an instant and it just felt normal again; it was the best feeling Lizzie could have imagined.

“Do I get a hug now, or what?” Charlie laughed and opened his arms for her.

Without hesitation, Lizzie stepped into them and let herself be enveloped by one of Charlie’s bear hugs she had missed so much.

“Good to have you back,” he whispered against her hair, making her smile broaden until her cheeks hurt.

“Aw, look at the two of you,” the dreamy voice of the Fat Lady, they had completely forgotten about, suddenly broke the atmosphere. “Young love, finally reunited again.”

Charlie let go of Lizzie and they both stared at her reproachfully. “We’re only friends!” they spoke out in perfect unison. Sharing another glance, they both exploded with laughter. Lizzie would say this sentence a thousand times and more if it only meant she had her friend back at her side.

The traces of laughter still hanging onto his face, Charlie stepped towards her and offered her his arm like a gentleman would to his lady; still chuckling, Lizzie took it.

“Now, milady, let’s go get some food.”

*

The Great Hall was already packed with students when they arrived. Lizzie’s arm was still linked with Charlie’s as they were laughing and joking with each like nothing had happened. She could have let go of him, of course, but she just enjoyed being back in his company way too much.

As they entered the Great Hall side by side, Lizzie didn’t fail to notice the whispers and sideways glances they were drawing from several of their peers. Although the rumours had stopped when the frosty atmosphere between them had become public knowledge, they hadn’t been set right either.

But Lizzie chose to ignore the raised eyebrows and scowls directed at them this time around; she straightened her back subconsciously as they walked through the space between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and let it all wash over her. She was done bothering with what people who didn’t even really know her would think; the ones she cared for knew the truth and that was all that matters. She had been worrying about other people’s opinions far too much these last few weeks.

When they reached where the rest of the Gryffindor team was sitting, Charlie sat down with them, gesturing for her to join them, but Lizzie declined the offer. She was glad their fight was over, but she didn’t want to push her luck; sitting with the players of the opposing team on the evening before the match maybe would have been a bit too much.

“Alright,” he shrugged as he sat down in between his team mates. “See you tomorrow on the pitch then.”

Lizzie smiled broadly. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Let’s see if you still think so after I’ve caught the snitch,” Charlie smirked. “But don’t worry, you can have it afterwards, as a consolation prize.”

The other Gryffindors snickered as Lizzie raised her chin defiantly. “Careful Weasley, pride comes before the fall.” But her eyes were sparkling in anticipation of the challenge.

Leaving the Gryffindor table behind, she walked over to her own House Table. She had seen Penny and Rowan sitting a bit further ahead; Lizzie hadn’t really sat with them during dinner in the last couple of days, especially not without Skye joining them, but her dark haired friend was nowhere to be seen.

Walking up to the two girls, her eyes drifted to the head of the table where Orion was sitting with McNully. She had seen him watching her when she’d entered the Great Hall with Charlie; she knew the fluttery feeling inside her stomach didn’t solely come from the anticipation of tomorrow’s match.

He and Murphy were undoubtedly discussing the last details for tomorrow, but as their eyes met for a split second, Lizzie offered him a small smile. It was gone almost too quickly to see, but she knew he’d caught it by the way the corners of his own mouth curved slightly upwards. He gave her the hint of an acknowledging nod before he turned his attention back on his and Murphy’s tactical discussion.

Lizzie was glad he had encouraged her to make amends with her friends; not only because she wanted them back, but also because it made her feel closer to him again.

She braced herself for the next part; Charlie was done, so now onto the next.

Approaching Rowan and Penny, Lizzie put on a markedly cheerful smile, trying to mask the touch of apprehensiveness she felt at her next task. “May I sit with you?”

Rowan just looked at her silently, her eyes unreadable behind her glasses.

Penny however, immediately moved over to make room for her on the bench. “Sure, go ahead,” she beamed up at her. Inwardly, Lizzie sighed thankfully; at least Penny seemed to be as eager to return to their normal state before the year was done than she was.

“We were just discussing if we might need something else for the pre-match party later,” she explained, pointing to a checklist spread out between their plates. “You’re coming, aren’t you?” she asked somewhat hopefully.

“Of course I am,” Lizzie smiled in return. “I’ve never missed one so far, have I?”

In truth, nothing was further from her mind than attending a party right now; the thought about being in a crowd that was working itself up in their excitement for the season finale made her stomach churn. But in a way, popping in to the pre-match parties had somehow become part of her own pre-match ritual; Lizzie wasn’t really superstitious, but figured this maybe wasn’t the best time to meddle with established routines.

Trying to take her mind off the prospect of the party, she poured herself some pumpkin juice. “Sounds like you’re excited for tomorrow.”

“You bet!” Penny beamed at her. “I can’t wait for the match to start! Hufflepuff is playing for the Cup the second year in a row, it’s time to bring it back where it belongs. Gryffindor is a really tough opponent, though; it will be a tough match, but you’ve trained so hard, I’m sure you’ll come out on top…”

When Penny noticed her rambling, she blushed slightly and shut up. Lizzie watched Rowan from across the table; she had been remarkably silent since Lizzie had joined them.

“What about you, Rowan?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Rowan quickly looked up from her dinner. “What about me?”

“You’re coming to the match, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know yet,” Rowan mumbled evasively, pushing her food around her plate while avoiding Lizzie’s eyes. “The O.W.L.s are so close now and I’ve still got so much more to study and revise.”

But both of them knew, this was only partly true. The two of them had lived in some sort of tentative truce the last couple of weeks, each keeping her distance from the other in a way. But the Quidditch pitch was Lizzie’s terrain; Rowan coming along would be a step back into a normality that Lizzie wasn’t sure they would achieve again; but she sure was hoping so.

“Listen,” she sighed. “I know it’s been weird between us ever since… you know.” Lizzie was struggling for words; she just couldn’t bring herself to actually ‘you caught me and Orion making out’ out loud. It was a thought she’d probably never get used to.

“What I want to say is, it would mean a great deal to me if I knew you’d be there tomorrow. You never missed a single match, you were always there to cheer me on.” She offered Rowan a weak smile. “I’m only half as good without you.”

To her surprise, for the first time in ages, Rowan smiled back at her. “That’s nonsense and you know it; you’ll be brilliant no matter who is watching.”

Lizzie grimaced, but secretly, Rowan’s kind words felt like balm for her soul. “Please don’t try to prove me wrong by not coming.”

“Alright, I’ll be there. But be damned if Gryffindor wins and my precious study turns out to be wasted,” she added with a joking threat.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you down!” A wide, relieved grin spread on Lizzie’s face; she instantly felt a lot lighter. “Skye and I have been practising some new moves, the lions have no chance at all.”

“Where’s Skye anyway?” Penny now piped up. “I haven’t seen her for some time now; I thought she was with you.”

Lizzie’s brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t seen her since class, why?”

“She got a letter earlier and seemed really rattled while reading it. She went all pale and ran off before I had a chance to ask what’s wrong; no one has seen her since.”

Lizzie didn’t like the sound of that at all. She was nervous enough as it was herself, Skye freaking out at the last minute was the last thing they needed. If she had been missing for quite some time now, there was no way to tell if she had worked herself into one of her states again and Lizzie had the very distinct feeling she should go and check on her friend immediately.

Luckily, she had a very good idea on exactly where to find her.

[annabethy]

23 on the prompts?

paper cuts

in which annabeth gets a paper cut, and percy is there to save the day.

By the time it was noon, Annabeth has already almost cried about twenty times. Every single thing she did seemed like it wanted to make her life miserable. Percy disagreed with her, but Annabeth isn’t going to listen to her asshole husband who is the sole reason she’s acting this way in the first place.

With every additional month of pregnancy, Annabeth has learned that the hormones seem to grow exponentially. It wasn’t very fun in her opinion, and neither were the constant thumps against her ribs. She swallows hard, pausing against the kitchen counter to try and catch her breath. Percy, who was sitting on a stool at the island, raised an eyebrow, fingers rummaging through the mail.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

Annabeth frowns at him pointedly, not enjoying the knowing smile he gives her. “I’m sad.”

“I can see that,” he says, chuckling under his breath. “Why are you sad?”

“Your child is making my life miserable.”

“My child?”

“Yes.”

“Only mine? Not yours?”

“My child would never act out of line.”

Percy snorts. “Okay. Sure.”

Annabeth smiles for a second until a sharp kick brings her face falling again. Percy pauses to look at her, and he appears mildly concerned for her. She can’t even muster up the strength to reassure him that she was okay until the continuous wave of pain subsided again.

“You sure you don’t need to go lay down for a bit?”

“I’m sure,” she says, but she’s still leaning heavily onto the counter.

“I can go with you,” he offers.

“I don’t need to.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

“Jokes on you,” Annabeth manages, “I’m always about to cry.”

Percy pouts and opens his arms towards her in invite. She walks around the granite countertop and into his arms. She stands between his legs, her stomach protruding into his space, and wraps her arms around his torso. He kisses the top of her head, always so much taller than her, and she feels comfort envelop her.

“How are my two princesses doing?” Percy whispers, kissing the tip of her ear.

“Overly emotional today.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Annabeth nuzzles her nose into his neck, inhaling deeply. He had just taken a shower, and he smelled so much like the place calls home. “You can hug me.”

Percy squeezes her tighter. “Already am.”

They stay like that for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms. Annabeth probably would’ve fallen asleep if she hadn’t been standing up, but the way that Percy’s hand is moving up and down her back soothingly has her eyes struggling to stay open anyways. She allows her mind to drift off, thinking of what the future holds for the two of them.

Pregnancy was definitely not her favorite thing in the world. People say it was amazing, but Annabeth highly disagrees. Perhaps she’d feel differently after the baby comes, but for right now, she is so excited for it to be over.

On the other hand, she supposes she does know why people love pregnancy. It’s not so much the process as what it is that they get out of it. In a few months, she’s going to be holding the tiniest baby in her arms, and Percy’s going to be right over her shoulder, kissing her on the cheek and telling her how proud he is. It hasn’t even happened yet, but she just knows that she’d be willing to do everything over again just to experience that moment.

“Come on,” Percy says, breaking the silence and nudging her gently with his elbow. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Nooo,” she protests lightly, leaning further into him. Her words are muffled against his chest. “I like it here.”

“At least to the couch? You’re falling asleep.”

“No I’m not,” she says, but she can barely bring herself to open her eyes.

Percy forces her to settle back onto her feet anyways so that he can hop off the stool. He picks up the mail that had been splayed in front of them, and Annabeth catches a quick glimpse of her name that has her reaching out to take it from his hand. Percy lets her have it, moving away from her to grab a glass of water as she opens it. She sticks her thumb in the edge of the envelope, pushing it to rip the paper, and the paper glides straight through her skin.

Annabeth inhales sharply, and that has Percy’s head snapping to face her. Her lower lip quivers as she looks down at the paper cut now lining with blood.

Percy’s already heading back to her side, alarmed. “What happened?”

She tries to tell herself it’s just a papercut. It doesn’t even hurt much besides the underlying sting, but she’s already cried twenty times today and she knows it’s about to be the twenty-first time.

Percy picks up her hand to hold it in front of his face, and he looks at her in understanding. “Paper cut?”

She can only nod and cover her face, embarrassed. She is painfully aware of how ridiculous she looks, whining over the tiniest of cuts, but the more she tries to avoid it, the more the tears want to fall. Percy, the person who was always too sweet and understanding, lifted her easily onto the table and brought her hand back to his line of sight.

“I’m being stupid,” she says through a ragged inhale. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not being stupid,” he assures.

“I’m crying over a paper cut.”

“It happens.” Percy settles her hand onto her thigh and brings her face to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss onto her cheek. “Let me bandage it.”

Annabeth struggles to get herself under control, silently cursing the tiny parasite inside of her, as he brings himself back with a band aid. It has a bunch of small rainbows printed onto it, which brings the faintest hint of a grin back to her face. Percy unpeels the paper from it before wrapping it around the tip of her finger.

“All better,” he says, kissing her fingers one by one. “No more paper cut.”

“I love you,” she laughs wetly. She wipes her face and sniffles, wrinkling her face as he kisses the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry you have to put up with me.”

“I love putting up with you.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.”

“Wish you would,” is his witty reply. Percy bumps her shoulder with his. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“If I were you, I’d be annoyed that my wife was crying all the time.”

“It’s not all the time, and besides, it just means that we’re getting closer to having our own family.” Percy gives her the widest grin she’s seen, and it melts her heart into a puddle. “Isn’t that so exciting?”

“You’re so nice to me.” Her eyes are burning slightly, but the tightness in her throat has made a welcome disappearance. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.”

“What? When did you do that?”

“I said it in my head earlier because the baby was kicking me.”

Percy shakes his head and leans his forehead against hers, smiling. “You’re such a little troublemaker.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, but you already knew that.”

Percy’s hand resuming gliding up and down her back as he looks at her like she’s the only thing in the world. “And I love you for it.”

Annabeth knows that she is so lucky. She has found this man in such a crazy world, and she fell in love with him. Somehow, he fell in love with her too, and now they were having a family. He didn’t care that she was constantly crying, even if it was over something as silly as getting a paper cut.

He was going to be such an amazing dad. There’s so much that she wants to tell him as he stands there in front of her, but she is so overwhelmed with right now that she doesn’t think she’d be able to get it all out.

Instead, she says, “I love you so much.”

“I know.” Percy kisses her once. “I love you more.”

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E96 (February 25, 2020)

Tonight’s guests are Taliesin Jaffe and Liam O’Brien!

Announcements: The Chicago live show and C2E2 are imminent! The live show will be on Thursday night, but an hour earlier than usual, at 6 PM Pacific/8 PM Central! Liam will be at the live show, but unfortunately has to leave C2E2 early and won’t be able to make it on Sunday. On Friday, the first behind-the-scenes video for The Legend of Vox Machina animated series was posted on YouTube, introducing the writing team!

Episode 96: Family Shatters

Stats for this week’s episode! Of the 16 times Caleb has cast Teleportation Circle, the M9 have remembered to contact someone prior to their arrival 7 times. Of those 7 times, they were successful at contacting someone at the location only 3. Taliesin: “We’re playing this game like Skyrim, we’re just going through people’s houses breaking pottery.” Caduceus got the straw hat that he gave to Clarabelle in episode 31, about 188 in-game days ago. There were 17 cow-related puns. Dani: “Is that above or below average for a Critical Role episode?”

“Clay was kind of built relatively quickly. I didn’t give Matt a ton to play with. I gave him the order in which they left, I gave him Clay’s attitude and his impression of his family members, which was usually just one sentence, and some basic idea of what their power set might be if they had one. I always thought of him as, from a family perspective, of what would have happened to Percy if nothing went wrong.” He was happy to be the one to run the family business and just hang around at home and run the shrine. “I think the rest of the kids’ wanderlust probably put them at odds quite a bit.” He liked being able to play that conflict and show what Caduceus was like when he was annoyed. Cad took after his father, the girls generally wanted to leave, and Colton is “just sort of a doofus.”

Caleb was an only child, so seeing this many kids was a lot. “They clearly had their grudges and their different dynamics with each other, but that’s normal, for sure. Caleb’s very unfamiliar with it.” He also keeps looking at Nott and thinking about how everything he’s doing is about wanting to rebuild his family, whereas Nott is so conflicted about going back to hers. “He doesn’t understand it, but he doesn’t want to push it” or judge her for it. “I thought I had a really defined direction at the start of the campaign, but my seven best friends have knocked it silly.”

What’s keeping Cad with the Nein? “Caduceus is not ready to go home at all. He’s not done with his walkabout. He feels like he wants to see a bit more. He feels he has an intense debt to pay. He feels he has a mission to see everybody else through, at the very least. Or at least he’s telling himself that. So he’s saved his home, or at least he thinks he’s saved his home, and his family’s all right, so now it’s debts that must be paid. He’s not somebody who thinks you can just get off the bus.”

“Caleb was going to ask [the hag] about the ability to travel backward through time, not really believing that she could do that, but was still like, show me what you’ve got.” Even if she’d said it, he would have thought she was a liar. “Probably would’ve offered to kill the M9″ in exchange, then would’ve turned around to hit her with a surprise Disintegrate. Liam notes repeatedly that nothing could possibly have been as cool as what Laura wound up doing.

On the Nein not worrying about places Cad considered sacred ground, Caduceus “is fine with conflict. He doesn’t even really have to have conflict, he could assert himself if he were so inclined. It’s that he’s aware that there are limits to what these people can do. It’s very much the philosophy of ‘children and drunks can do no wrong’.” He’s picking his battles.

Was there a defining moment where Caleb started seeing the Nein as family? No single moment. “It’s like love by a thousand cuts.” Liam notes that he’s still not sure how Caleb would react if he suddenly had the means to carry out his plans. “He’s got the recovering-addict mentality.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Pumat! (CriticalHitical, photo by Minniemooncos on Twitter)

Taliesin notes that Caduceus is definitely feeling more connected to the group. “If anything, Caduceus is really embracing his role as the spiritual guide to the group. He feels like he really has a lot to offer from that perspective of being the roving therapist. Or at least, he thinks he’s a roving therapist.” Liam notes that Cad is the most mysterious of the group to Caleb. “He’s the most religious character I’ve ever played, too. He’s fun! He really came together very nicely.”

On Caleb being more lighthearted on occasion: “He’s been out of practice being a human being for a long time.” The Nein’s brand of ridiculousness is rubbing off on him.

Why hasn’t Cad been pranking the Nein? “They don’t treat him poorly in that way yet. Siblings, man. I have quite a few siblings, and there is an energy. It’s the same way like when you’re around your parents, you revert to a 15-year-old.” Same with siblings. “There’s just something-- just the urge to torture them is so overpowering.” The moment he got the whistle, he knew exactly what he was going to do with it. Liam was reminded of Taliesin’s real-life siblings while watching these interactions in the game.

On Caleb’s laying on compliments for the Traveler: “The thing about time travel is it’s so implausible. It’s so implausible that I could see us finishing this campaign and Caleb will still have it in the back of his head for the rest of his life. But maybe Artagan could help with that. He certainly sees the potential in Artagan, and it was a balance between wanting to support everything Jester has devoted her life to, so it just felt like everyone was ready to write it off. Life is often like this, life isn’t what you thought it would be, it is what it is. Let’s not damn this yet, let’s feel it out. And if I can use this situation to possibly eradicate ultimate evil, that’s a win.”

Cad found it tough to have family and friends in the same room and play both roles. “I don’t know how much it came across that he was trying to keep them, not necessarily separated, but ‘family, guys, guys, family, ANYWAY.’” He did want to get his family on their way as quickly as possible. Cad is the equivalent of his early 20s, so something like 85-120 years old for a firbolg. 

Liam is asked about the conversation between Caleb and Yasha on watch several episodes ago. "You know what one of the best parts of that scene that played out was, is about 20 minutes or 30 minutes before that happened, I texted Ashley at the table and said, ‘Want to take watch? I have nothing planned, it could be fun.’” He wasn’t expecting it to go that far. “I think he had such an extreme reaction because he felt that he had done a good job of hiding things, and he was suddenly worried that he was transparent, that everyone had been able to read him this whole time when he’d thought that he was-- well, he’s a little in love with Jester Lavorre, and has been for a while, uselessly in love with her. The waltz was probably a little pebble. And in that moment-- this doesn’t play out verbally too much in the show, but he just was worried that this thing that he’s never going to admit to because it’s useless, she’s finding herself, and has her whole life ahead of her, and has other people around her who care about her and are a whole lot better for her than he is. And he’s aware of the way those two [Fjord and Beau] feel as well. It’s just there in the background fucking up his shit. It’s really just a problem. Big fucking problem.” 

Fan art of the week: a gorgeous Clay family portrait! (by Teaweltzer on Twitter)

On Clay being absent for the renewal of his home: “I don’t think his arc’s ending off-screen. I think his arc ends when he comes home to see what’s become of it.”

Is Caleb worried about Beau since the confrontation with her father? “Of course he is. She’s ignoring all the advice that she gave him. He doesn’t like to see her that hard on herself when she’s so competent and probably the backbone of the group. It’s the most judgey Caleb’s been of anybody, really, but he’s very aware of the pain of family and personal stuff. She knows her, and even though he broke his shit in half, he could still see the dynamic in the room when we visited his family, so he feels for her. We need you and we love you and we will miss you, you don’t fucking get to go.”

Each of the temples has a secondary god; what was the Blooming Grove’s other god? “The Blooming Grove is for the Archeart because it is a gift of beauty. It’s the Allhammer, the Changebringer, and the Archeart. It’s kind of a powerplay from the Wildmother, in my opinion. They’re all three based off of very specific types of funereal practices that are common throughout the world.”

Caleb saw giving over the transformation spell to Essek as a returning of one of his many favors. “Caleb likes Essek a lot. They’re like two highly gifted kids at school together. And, you know, he’s quirkily charming and handsome. There’s just no reason not to, in his mind. Outside of the M9, he’s probably the only person that Caleb would see as a friend that he’s made. Everyone else is just sort of scenery around the M9.”

What’s next for Cad? “It’s a little bit of finding himself, or at least finishing himself would be the way to put it.” (cue snickering from off-camera) “He’s also vaguely aware of some of the things that are going to possibly emotionally damage the party on the horizon, and he wants to be ready to deal with, in vague order, whatever’s going to happen to Jester, and then whatever’s going to happen to Fjord, and then whatever’s going to happen to Nott, and Yasha, and Caleb. He doesn’t know how to deal with what Beau’s going through. It’s the one thing he has no experience of, because he has no experience with that family dynamic. When he met people with that family dynamic, it was always at the end of it.”

Some fans sent in death whistles. Brian encourages Taliesin to play one on the plane.

The hat for Calliope was a last-minute thought. The flute could also have gone for Colton, depending on “who I could sneak up on”.

Caleb took a symbol of the Archeart from the Labenda Swamp. “I think it was familiar to me. I think I might have either correctly or mistakenly thought it reminded me of the woman who helped Caleb in the Sanatorium.”

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/81198748

Chapter 73

Arthur had no chance to see who attacked him. Also, he was much too concerned with his own feelings to take notice of his surroundings. Just cut and run, he had thought. And smile along, always smile. And then, one moment after the other, he felt a stinging pain in his left upper arm. He turned around, but slower than he had attended. His body didn't obey him. Then the world continued to turn around him. Shortly, he panicked. Did he blow his cover? Finally, he felt how his strength left him, sinking down on the street. A blink of an eye later he passed out.

When Arthur awoke, he stared at the wide cloudy sky above him. Dawn was breaking, and he found out that he couldn't move. Startled, he began to tear at his fetters, but it was in vain. He was left to look at them in disbelief. Someone had done a competent job. Arthur stretched himself as good as he could, regretting that this guy didn't have the decency to give him a mattress before tying him onto a rock. Even though he was joking about it in his head, he didn't feel like laughing.

Once again, he had risked everything he had been fighting for in the last few weeks, and this time he was sure he'd pay for it. Often enough he had gotten away with it, but this time he had a very bad feeling. He recognised that he was in the Garden District and somebody had decorated his rock with lit up candles. Reasons enough to abandon all hope. He had seen multiple cultists in this district, with rituals that made him sick at the mere thought. What god would he be sacrificed for, he asked himself without being interested in the answer. Arthur hoped they'd choke on it. That'd be funny for once, he thought giggling hysterically. “I'm sorry, Percy...”, he whispered. “I fucked up.”

“Ah, Mr. Hastings, I hope you've been sleeping well?”, suddenly an amused voice asked. At least one of us has fun, Arthur stated to himself. He nearly twisted his neck to look around. The sight made him wince. “Nick?” His voice was a terrified rasp. The other man leaned against a rock, watching him with glowing red eyes. Arthur saw surprise and curiosity in his expression. He would've almost called it innocent, if there hadn't been these concerning circumstances. “No, but well-nigh”, the stranger said quietly. “It's interesting that you see our connection.” “Well, I'm afraid one of you is a copycat.” “You will understand soon”, the other man assured him. “Oh, Mr. Hastings, I'm sorry I have to do this to you, but you've been indeed very, very unwise. Downers don't belong in this town, you should know that.” “I'll keep that in mind, thanks”, Arthur said with sarcasm, “Now if you'd kindly untie me, I'll take the next train right to the mainland.” The stranger laughed. “You're charming, really. But I'm afraid it's too late for that. You had your chance, you know? You were gone already, but then you came back. You just can't say goodbye and I understand, it's such a jolly place, isn't it?” His grin caused a cold shiver run down Arthur's spine. “What do you mean? I never left the town. I wanted, but sadly my train got delayed.” That seemed to entertain the other man even more. “You know, I understand you. Truly, I do. And you know what? I make you a present. I give you one last date with the love of your life. How's that?” He didn't sound sentimental saying that. If he cared at all about Arthur's feelings, he didn't show it.

“Where is he? What have you done to him?” Arthur once more tore at his fetters. The other man watched his efforts without concern. “He's alright and I advise you to not chance that, otherwise I might change my mind and take care of you myself.” Arthur didn't understand. “What do you want from us?” The man eyed him. “Only you, Mr. Hastings. Only you.” Arthur was now certain that he dealt with a lunatic. “Foggy Jack.” It was worth trying. “You are Foggy Jack.” "I have many names...", the stranger said quietly. "People have to give things a name. Downers, Skippers, Wastrels...everything they don't understand. I'm just a man, Mr. Hastings. And so are you." He eyed Arthur and perhaps even looked sympathetic. Arthur sniffed a chance. "Then we can get along! We don't have to do this!" Foggy Jack gave him a pitiful look. "I'm sorry, but there's no way around this. Tell yourself it was worth it...that's your only option..." He raised his eyes to the horizon. His expression became sentimental this time.

"What have I ever done to you?”, Arthur desperately shouted at him. “I never stood in your way! As you said, we're both outlaws here, we're equal..." Foggy Jack broke out in laughter. "Do you think I'm a Downer?" Arthur snorted. "Of course, no one off Joy would be so insane!" The man didn't look offended. "That's fair", he said quietly. "Seems like in this town the winner is who's most insane." "And Nick?”, Arthur brought it up again. “What did he do to deserve this?" His mind began to create a full picture. The murders...the mauled corpse of Kitty Bates...Virgil's blood... He suddenly felt cold. The man smiled. "He's an eccentric individual, my Nicky...He deserves the world." "Then leave him alone!", Arthur shouted again. "As I said, you will understand", the stranger said with emphasis. "Now, it was nice chatting with you, but I'm afraid we've come to the end of our time." The way he said it made Arthur's stomach turn. Was that...could that be...?

Foggy Jack got up from the rock and busied himself with gagging Arthur. Arthur in turn tried his best to bite the other man's fingers, but to no avail. His attacker was too careful and probably experienced to be fooled like that.  When the work was done, Arthur fought down another panic attack. He was glad that the crazy killer at least cared enough not to choke him. Then uncomfortable silence ensued. Jack spend the silence looking at a point in the distance, something he awaited eagerly. Arthur sucked in the air when he saw another man approach, dressed in a black suit and with an eerie shimmer on his face.

“James, you wanted to see me?”, Nick asked a bit out of breath. He had hurried to come here after finding the message in his dressing room behind the stage. Jack cupped his face with his hands and looked him deeply into the eyes. He liked the glow they had. “Nick, what happens now is very important, do you hear me?” “Okay?” Nick didn't quite understand. “Did you take your Joy?” “Yes.” “Not too much?” Nick shook his head. “One.” Jack smiled. “Very good. Do you remember the gift you once made me?” “Gift...” Nick blinked. The memories...they were foggy. Then he touched his chest. “Yeah...” Jack nodded. “Now I'll give you something just as precious.” “Another gift?” Nick furrowed his brows. “Something even more precious than my last one”, Jack described to him, giving him a meaningful look. “Something you lost...” Jack turned around and gestured Nick to follow him. Nick saw the light that flickered around the rock and he also saw that someone was lying on it. Curiously, he came closer, reaching out for the seemingly lifeless body. When he noticed that the chest was still moving, he winced and stopped. His hand remained in the air, doubting, his eyes searched for the face of the stranger. Suddenly he looked into brown eyes, his expression just as startled as the other man's was.

“Arthur?”, Nick whispered. Looking back at his mentor, he saw the man return his gaze with an approving nod. "The man who broke your heart, right here. We thought he'll leave the town...He said he had so many important things to do...but all the time he was here, just not at your side..." Arthur's throat made a sound. He didn't recognize himself if he had been shouting or sobbing, but the gag obliterated the difference anyway. What remained was an opaque, doleful sound that made Nick wince again. "Oh, dear, is he begging for your love now?", Jack sneered. "Should we let him explain why you weren't good enough for him? Why he wanted to live a better life than the one at your side? Should we allow him to stab another blade into your heart? Nick, look at me." Nick who wasn't able to tear his gaze away from Arthur finally obeyed. "Don't make the same mistake again! You lost so much to him and he doesn't care!" Another muffled sound came from Arthur. Jack gave him an annoyed glance. "You did everything to gain his heart but he took it from you! Today I'm giving you the chance to get back what's yours! His heart will be with you forever!  We'll keep it next to mine, so we can always remind ourselves to never give our heart away again...."

Nick looked back at Arthur who didn't like how the other man eyed his chest, as if he was looking for a certain spot. He also didn't like the glow in Nick's eyes. It could be the candles that gave his eyes an orange shimmer, but combined with the outfit it created a picture that made Arthur gasp in despair. Why did he never notice? How long had Nick been under Foggy Jack's influence? And was he really innocent?

“Did you bring it?”, Jack asked when Nick was finished observing his new gift. Arthur noticed how he kept Nick from thinking for himself, how Nick looked up to him, asking for his advice. The rockstar acted slowly, as if he was controlled, but not clumsily. If anything, he didn't make any superfluous movements. He was probably very focused. So, perhaps not high. Still, Nick was clearly not himself and Arthur hated to watch how Nick obeyed to Jack, fetching something out of his pocket. It shortly flashed, making Arthur blink. Then he felt hot and cold at the same time, because Nick held a little knife in his hands and looked up to Jack who gave him another approving nod. Jack put a hand on Nick's shoulder and gently pushed him to the improvised altar. Arthur cramped and tugged at the fetters again.

Nick seemed to ignore Arthur's desperate calls. He also avoided his eyes, rather stared at the uncomfortable spot on his chest. The knife came closer until it was only millimetres away from his shivering body, as if Nick would take measurements. Arthur closed his eyes. Then he felt Nick's hands on him and opened wide to look at the man. Nick still didn't return the gaze. He simply opened the buttons on Arthur's jacket, one after the other. Arthur almost laughed. One last date with his lover! How he had missed that! If only he could convince Jack to leave them alone for a bit. Arthur winded, blinking away tears. Soon, Nick had removed the annoying cloth and his fingers ran over Arthur's skin. Then he let his hand lay on his chest. He certainly felt his heartbeat, Arthur thought. By now he had lost his strength to scream. Nick positioned the knife again. Suddenly, he looked him in the eyes and Arthur stared back. Like this, they remained for an unexpected long while. Nick seemed to feel doubt, his look became fearful.

He turned back to his mentor. “I can't...”, he whispered. “Yes, you can”, Jack answered. His voice was full of confidence. Arthur was afraid that even he would kill for such a voice. But Nick shook his head. “I have never...” “Yes, you did”, Jack said, “and you left your work for everyone to see.” Arthur cramped. Nick froze and looked at Jack, less horrified than confused. “Do you remember where you left him?” Nick seemed to brood over it. He looked at his hands, than back at his mentor. “Virgil...”, he whispered. “You held him in your arms”, Jack explained as if it was the most beautiful thing he ever did. “And all people found him like that, in your arms. It was so touching.” “I...I...” Nick sobbed. “You showed him your love. He betrayed you, he payed for it and you forgave him.” He pointed towards Arthur. “Now it's time to forgive him, am I right?” Nick shivered. “It's fine, Nick. I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of. Once you have his heart, you'll feel the warmth of it in your hands. Arthur won't leave you again. We'll keep him and you can always come back to him.” Nick hung at his every word. “And the body, well, I'm sure you'll find a good spot to honour him.” Nick's gaze wandered along the wide meadows, stopping by the red glowing Nonsuches. “See, it's all there in your head”, Jack concluded.

Nick ran a hand though his hair, then turned back to Arthur. Arthur made another noise, this time it was merely a whimper. He could see his own chest raising and falling. He also felt how his skin touched the cold blade of the knife. Finally, Nick tightened his grip and lifted it up. Arthur froze and pressed his eyes shut.

He felt a tug at his wrists and suddenly, he was free. For a short moment he was baffled, but he used his luck to attack. Nick had covered him good enough so that Jack didn't notice what happened until the Downer had already jumped at him. Arthur had no strategy for this, only pure violence. He dragged Foggy Jack to the ground, held him down with his knees and pressed his upper arm against the killer's throat. He was afraid he couldn't keep him under control like this forever. “Nick, help me!”, he shouted. Where was he? Did he run away?

Nick watched the scene that unfolded, paralysed. It had felt right to free Arthur. He didn't have the heart... Did he really do it already? He had felt nothing but fear at the thought. And the smell of blood had occupied his mind. He didn't like that smell. But now James was in danger and he couldn't let that happen.

Nick set himself into motion and grabbed Arthur to pull him away. “Let go of him!”, he rasped. He managed to tear Arthur away from James. The man jumped back at his feet and shoved Nick off. “You're just as crazy as him!”, he screamed into the eerie, glowing eyes. He barely noticed the sadness in them. “Arthur...?”, Nick said quietly. “Leave me alone!”, the other man continued to scream, slapping his hand away. Arthur panicked. Jack was about to recover and moved to get up. Nick scared him too, and so he turned away from him and fled as fast as he could, off this awful place. “Arthur!”, Nick shouted after him. “Arthur, wait, I'm not like him! I...!” But Arthur vanished in the darkness and Nick couldn't sense him. He could be everywhere. Also, Nick's tiny bit of courage was already used up. He was paralysed again, unsure if he even wanted to flee. He watched James getting back on his feet and fear spread in his body. He knew he had made a horrible mistake.

“James, I couldn't...”, he whimpered. Jack massaged his throat. “You couldn't...”, he repeated, and his voice had lost it's approving sound. “I told you how much he means to me! You should've known! You...!” “You blame this on me?”, Jack snarled. “After everything I've done for you, you embarrass me like that? Don't you listen to me?” Nick sobbed. “You took Morrie away from me! And Virgil! And now Arthur!...How could you?” Jack glared at him. “You're right. I was so blind. You're not like me and you never will be! I can't believe I wasted so much time on you! Stupid, sentimental me! But now, now you've come to the end of your time!” “No!” Nick overcame his shock and ran away, down the same slope that Arthur had taken, the same that Nick had climbed up full of anticipation a few moments ago.

“You can't hide from me, Nicky, I can sense you!”, Jack yelled after him and Nick knew he was right. They were connected. For some time past they were able to feel each other out. They couldn't exist without each other. It made it more painful to be hunted by him. Nick felt like a part of him was ripped out of his body. He still continued to run, down the slope and into the wide field, where Nonsuches faintly lit up the road and clouds of think fog covered the grass here and there. Neither the fog nor the high grass could hide him. Eventually exhausted, he crouched under a rock that was big enough to cover him. It at least made him feel safer. Gasping for air, he noticed he still held the scalpel in his hands. His fingers curled tightly around it. It was his only chance. He felt James come closer and waited, shivering, fighting the urge to flee. It would be no use. James wouldn't stop.

Soon, he heard his footsteps. The grass was quietly rustling. Someone else would've failed to hear it, but the Joy had sharpened Nick's senses. He froze when James came to a halt right at the other side of the rock. Then Nick heard nothing but his own quick breath. “Are you waiting for me, Nicky?”, Jack whispered. “Do you want to fight? Oh, I've been looking forward to see you fight! You learned so much, you know? But it was no use...” Nick didn't want to fight. His only chance was one fast stroke, so he sneaked around the rock while Jack was still talking to him. He found his mentor turning his back on him. When Nick lifted up his hand, however, he turned around. His expression was mocking and Nick himself felt ridiculous. He was still too far away to attack him and ended up standing there like an odd living monument.

“You still have my gift”, Jack noticed. “Do you want to kill me with it, Nicky? Can you do it?” He came closer while he spoke, eyes fixed on Nick's. Nick trembled more. He had to do it now. Now! But what chance did he have? And it was James...His helper, his friend, his manager...This could only be a nightmare. Jack grabbed his arm, shattering all chances. “No, you can't”, he concluded. “I knew it! You just can't do it! There's no use in teaching you!” With the other hand he took the scalpel away from him. “You don't deserve this!” Nick's eyes welled up. “I told you...”, he whispered. “This always happens to me. I disappoint everyone who loves me. I chase them away. It was naïve of me to think it would be different with us...” He sobbed. “I loved you! And I'm sorry that I'm not good enough for you!” Jack lifted his eyebrow. “Please, could you do me a last favour?”, Nick went on. “Just one moment, please, pretend this didn't happen. Let me believe I didn't lose you too. Tell me it's gonna be okay.” He widened his arms. “Please, hug me one last time.” Jack looked actually blindsided. Nick's behaviour confused him and it made him wonder if he wronged him... If he wanted a hug, he could get it, right? What of it! Slowly, he opened his arms. Nick gave him a questioning look first, then he dashed into the embrace. Jack curled his fingers into Nick's hair. It felt good to be so close to him. It was the last thought he had before he lost consciousness.

Nick pulled the syringe out of James' neck and gently lowered the limp body into the grass. He positioned the knife and made his first cut with shaking hands. He would show him his love, honour him and make him a monument. He'd keep his heart forever. Warm blood covered his fingers. The beating of his heart was so disturbing. Nick wasn't used to this. He wondered how long his heart would keep on.

“Hey, what are you about?”, someone yelled at him. Nick jumped. His senses had been focused only on James. He looked up to a man. A very tall man in a blue uniform. Immediately, he pulled out the scalpel. His hands were full of blood and his eyes full of guilt. “It's Foggy Jack!”, the Bobby howled. “I got him! Don't let him get away!” Nick ran away head over heels, but it had become darker. All he saw was blackness and the many furious voices of his pursuers came closer.

[cabinofimagines]

Troubles

Percy x Reader (college au)

Fluff | Smut | Angst

A/n: So I finally finished this piece of shit. I don’t really like where it went but it’s cool I guess. This is in response to 3 whole requests we got ages ago. Also guys please remember requests aren’t open yet. It’s on our nav page; what’s open and what’s not I mean. -Day

_ _ _

i.

Staring up at the towering buildings of the main hall only intimidated you more than you already were. You gulped as you watched packs of friends roam about the campus, chattering about who they were rooming with during the overnight orientation, “Jamie said she’s rooming with a guy named Matthew-- I guess they don’t care who stays in the same room?”

“No shit, Kyla, we’re in college now. They don’t give a shit what we do in our spare time.”

You stifle a laugh at the passing conversation, knowing better  than to assume that the school doesn’t care what you do. You grimance once more at the mass of people, but pull yourself together and step into the main hall.

The inside was a lot more intimidating than the outside of the building. People of all ages huddled around in groups, overbearing parents hovered over their grown kids, various people already huddling together in packs, and younger youth were already being recruited into sororities and frats. You stuck to the walls and made your way to a long, but ever-moving line of new students who were being randomly matched with others in a room.

Your mind wandered at the thought of rooming with a stranger, even if it was just for a night it wasn’t something you were particularly fond of doing. You had to do it at some point if you were to live on campus in a dorm, but even then you would be matched based on personality and living habits. The line was getting increasingly shorter and your heart was pounding harder the more you thought about the outcome of this experience, would you meet your best friend and decide to choose one another as actual roommates? Or would you have the worst experience of your life tonight?

“Name?”

A overly cheerful voice broke through your melancholy thoughts, you crack a quick smile at the older female, “Y/n L/n.” You watch as she shifts through a few papers with scribbles of various names until she makes a hum of achievement, marking your name out with a black sharpie and handing you a brass key.

“Here’s your key, don’t lose it or the fee is $150!” She shooed you on and greeted the next person as soon as you shifted to the side. You sighed and shoved the key into your front pocket, the space being so small you were sure that it wouldn’t fly out randomly.

Before you head to your room you decided that you should save the trip and collect your things from your car before going to find your room. You packed as lightly as you could, but still managed to bring a suitcase with you, full of clothes and bedsheets for the night since it was a required thing. Although as you trudged up the stairs because the elevator was broken, you were regretting being so prepared.

You hauled ass all the way to the fifth floor, losing a lung or two on the way up. Finally arriving on the fifth floor landing you took a breather, leaning against the railing and catching your breath. You hear a small chuckle beside you, passing by you from the hellaciously steep stairs you had climbed moments ago.

You managed to pick your head up long enough to see a mop of black hair bob past you and into the hall of the dormitory. You shake your head; damn athletes. You gather your bearings and forge onward down the hall to which the mop of hair went. You strolled past the doors, some open as chatter filled the hall, and others were shut and silent as the dead. Your eyes scanned the numbers, anxiously looking for three digits. 539.

The door was open and there was a deep voice mixed with a few others emanating from the room. Your heart stopped, how many roommates did you have? You step inside cautiously, rolling your luggage into the room and setting it by the door. The room was spacious and separated by another door that led to your roommate’s room. There was a baren bed, a large desk, and a large window on the wall adjacent from the door.

The voices went quiet suddenly, having heard your footsteps and the wheels of your suitcase they must’ve realised someone else had arrived. You see a mess of curly brown locks appear from the doorway that separated the rooms, “Oh shit, it is.” He said suddenly, disappearing back into the room to talk further about your sudden appearance. You raise your brows at his words, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a strong stance.

Before you could make a move to ask the boy why he said what he said, another voice sounded out, “Great job, Leonidas, gotta fuck up my experience too, huh?” You hear a smack echo through the room followed by a whine of pain. You see the boy stumble out of the room, grumbling an apology to you before he left.

The owner of the other voice you presumed, walked through the doorway only seconds after the curly one left. You sucked in a breath at the sight that blessed your eyes, his messy black hair fell over his sea green eyes, flying out of his line of sight moments later. He stood tall and lean in gray jogging pants and a white t-shirt, basketball shoes untied like he had just slipped them on. What deemed you speechless was his smile, a goofy yet charming lopsided smile that graced and enhanced his features.

“You’re the person on the stairs, aren’t you?” He said with a chuckle, smoothing his hair back from his face, but failing as it returned into it’s messy state.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

He laughed and leaned back against the doorway slightly, “The person that was by the staircase catching their breath.”

You merely nod, too flustered to answer him verbally. The fact that his first impression was that you were out of shape absolutely sucked, even if it was true.

“I’m Percy, “ He said with a wink, “Probably the best roommate you’ll ever have.”

You cock a brow at his words, crossing your arms challengingly, “What makes you say that?”

He smirked and stepped closer, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Because I’m going to make sure you have the time of your life.”

ii.

By the time sophomore year came around, the two of you were close to inseparable. One could almost never be seen without the other unless it was during classes you didn’t have together.

Although how exactly you got to the local pizza place in town discussing Criminal Minds and Law & Order you weren’t exactly sure. Somewhere between his constant whining about how hungry he was and his consistent begging, you found yourself stuffing your face with pizza while you listened to him gush about the many crime shows he watches.

“But then,” He paused, taking a big bite of his slice, “Reid just like,” another bite, “figured it out because he has photographic memory-- which is like so fucking cool-- and solved the case.”

You nod along, interested in the story and the babbling boy in front of you, going on what should be his seventh tangent about each of the cases in the many episodes he’d watched. It was cute that he was so invested into these shows and even invited you to watch a few episodes with him tonight to which you gladly obliged.

You grin as he finishes off his pizza, blindly looking for another slice but finding none, “Did you eat all the pizza?” he quirked an eyebrow in your direction, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He didn’t give you time to answer as he stood from his seat, offering a hand to you, “I didn’t want any anyways.” He said with a chuckle and a teasing glint in his sea green eyes.

You huff at his remark, standing up with the help of his hand, “You can put away some food, that’s for sure.” you grumbled under your breath.

He flicked your forehead suddenly, “I don’t waste food.”

You laughed lightly, rubbing the sore spot as you spoke, “It’s getting dark, we should get back and actually attend some of tonight’s activities.” You spun around to leave with him in tow, but managed to run straight into an older woman who looked far from kind.

She gasped as if she were doused in hot coffee from your run in, holding her hand to her chest and staring at you in disbelief. You fumbled to apologize, but naturally they made the incident a lot worse than it actually was. They spoke loudly for the rest of the pizza place to hear, “You teenagers think you can just push an elder out of the way?! Unbelievable, this new generation is so disrespectful!”

You bit your lip in thought of what to say. You wanted to argue back and clear things up, but that would only further her idea of generational disrespect. Not once did her purple coated lips stop moving, spouting more and more unrelated nonsense about such a simple situation.

“Ma’am, you’re the one who walked into the exit door rather than the entry door. This wouldn’t have happened had you simply read the sign on the door.”

You shifted your eyes to an annoyed Percy who gave the lady before him a dead gaze, something that would’ve intimidated you had you not known how friendly the male actually was.

The lady opened her mouth again, but Percy interrupted her, “They said sorry, what more do you want? You’re the only one being rude here.”

She left without another word, shimmying away with a few grumbles. You gave the ebony haired boy an impressed look, “Well, well, “ You teased, “You could've scared me off with that look.” He snorted at this, “What look?,” his face broke out in a lopsided smile as he held the door open for you.

You mimicked him the best you could which elicited a chuckle from Percy, “I don’t look like that.” You scoffed and bumped his shoulder with your own, “You’ve got a case of the resting bitch face. Or is that your courtroom face?”

You laughed loudly, making your way back down the street to campus with him. The sun was already setting, the orange and red hues highlighting the towering buildings and bathing the world around you in various shades. Your breath hitched lightly, heart picking up pace unexpectedly. He looked breathtaking to you, his messy hair was brushed away from his face and exposed his forehead, his tall nose scrunched up slightly as the cool wind blew, and his lips were turning an angry red from his constant biting. He looked like a god-- way too good to be true.

He met your stare with his own, pausing his steps and gently tugging you back to him by the arm. He raised a brow at your words, taking a moment to think over what to see, “It’s not, but should it be?” He genuinely seemed interested, “Or was I too scary or whatever?”

You shrugged and managed to tear your eyes away from his being, looking off at the passing cars, “No you just looked so serious, I didn’t know you for a split second.” You look back and flash him a small smile, but avoided prolonged eye contact in fear that your heart would hammer against your chest harder than it already was.

He let out a small giggle at this, catching you off guard. You could gain whiplash from the duality this man has. He hooked arms with you, forcing you to start walking with him and his ridiculously long strides, “Cool, Dr. Leener said that I needed a more serious look when prosecuting.”

You look up at him at this, “How else would you look in a situation like that?”

He used his free arm to reach up and scratch the back of his neck shyly, “Uh I was joking about the case a little too much.”

You pause at his confession, cracking up slightly, “Dude I’m honestly not even surprised.”

Iii.

Dust fell from the ceiling as you carefully swung your legs over the brick wall, landing on the cement flooring of the abandoned building. You threw a glance over your shoulder and laughed when you saw Percy’s long legs struggle to get a grip on the wall you just came over. You sat back, enjoying the view of his suffering a little too much.

Once he finally made it over after five grueling minutes of his lanky legs trying to get over the wall, he landed next to you with a sigh, glaring at you with a slight unknown pout. He dusted off his navy hoodie and black jeans, “I’m so glad I have such a loving and kind-hearted best friend.”

You beamed at him, batting your eyelashes at him in jest, “And I’m so glad you recognize it!”

You pat yourself off, trying to rid yourself of all the dirt that covered your sweats and your ‘junior squad’ t-shirt. You felt hands on your back suddenly, causing you to jump and turn around too quickly, elbowing Percy in the rib accidently.

He whined and held a hand to his chest, slumping against your figure dramatically, “I’ve been stabbed!” He gasped, “there’s been another victim!”

You shove him onto his feet, “Shut up you idiot!” You hiss, eyes scanning the barely visible room surrounding you, “Let’s just hurry up and satisfy your sadistic interests before we get caught.” You shuffled away from the tall boy, squinting your eyes to adjust to the lack of light in the room.

“Use your flashlight, dumbass. You aren’t a cat.”

The bright blue light of Percy’s phone flashlight blinded you, him shining it right in your face to make a point. You swatted at his hand, causing him to drop his phone. The heavy device clattered across the cement, the flashlight facing towards the ground. He squeaked at this, carefully stepping around the space as he muttered curses towards you.

You shiver, a sudden gust of wind reminding you that winter was just around the bend and the fact that you also had not grabbed a jacket before your little adventure outside. You’d much rather be in your room, binge-watching all of your favourite shows instead of the dreaded math homework that is due tomorrow morning at eight a.m.

An audible crack echoed throughout the area followed by a dramatic gasp. Your eyes flicked towards the noise stepping carefully over until you came in contact with Percy’s side, “...fuck” he whispered to himself.

Just then another source of light shone over the two of you, momentarily blinding you for the second time that night. One arm latched around Percy’s, using him as a shield as the other hand came up to block the light out. You could feel Percy tense under your touch, his posture straightening a little as if he was trying to appear larger than the possible threat approaching.

“What are you kids doing here? This is a crime scene, off limits to the public until further notice,” The booming voice instructed, “That includes you, Percy Jackson.”

Percy seemed to chill out at the call of his name, a lopsided smirk forming on his lips, “Lieutenant Brunner! You shouldn’t be out here, this is,” He cocks his head to the side, “ a crime scene after all.”

Your jaw dropped. Lieutenant Brunner was infamous for the many cases he’s solved locally and nationally, but you had thought he was out of commision due to the injury that left him paralyzed from the waist down. Yet here he was, obviously still solving cases despite his disability. It was actually inspiring to see someone still do what they love despite all that has happened to them in the past.

The man sighs at this, his wheelchair squeaking lightly as it pressed on toward the two of you, “Percy,” he scolds, “this isn’t the greatest place for dates, I thought you had class? Or did you forget that too after you stopped volunteering?”

The younger male’s smirk faltered slightly at this, but he quickly recovered, “Cut me some slack, it’s hard being a college student, I just wanted to blow off some steam with my favorite.” He enunciated that he was talking about you by placing a hand on top of your head.

You didn’t know what to make of this situation, but you thought it best to stay quiet seeing as they knew each other well. You were embarrassed to say the least, Lieutenant Brunner was a local at the cafe you worked at and he was always very nice to you and your co-workers, you really hoped he didn’t recognize you here of all places.

Lieutenant Brunner sighed deeply, beginning to turn away from the pair as if he hadn’t even seen you, “You both should head back to campus, I won’t tell the others I saw you here. I’ll just say I was simply investigating a suspicious noise, nothing more.”

You nudged the tall boy’s side, signalling him that this was the plan you should go with. However he didn’t seem to take that into account, “But I wanted to investigate too.” You roll your eyes and nudge him a little harder this time,pleading with him, “Can we please just go?”

Percy went silent for what felt like forever, but then he moved down suddenly, picking up his phone and revealing the cracked screen. He groaned and interlaced his fingers with yours suddenly. Your heart skipped a beat as he tugged you along, walking towards the exit this time instead of scaling that godforsaken wall. He simply saluted the wheelchair bound man, “Love you, Lieutenant Brunner!”

You hissed, tugging him along and muttering swears and curses at the ebony haired boy by your side. Once you were in the clear you removed your hand from his and stopped following him, your heart still pounding at the sudden form of affection. He slowed to a stop and looked back with a lopsided smile, “At least it wasn’t the authorities!”

You gave him an incredulous look, “It was Lieutenant Brunner. Did you forget who solved nearly every case you’ve been studying in your classes?” You bring a hand up to your forehead, still not fully believing what just happened. You got caught at an active crime scene by a notorious investigator and were just let off the hook without repercussions. What the fuck.

You locked eyes with him, walking forward and poking him with an accusatory finger, “And he knew you? Care to tell me how?”

He licked his lips and caught your finger with his hand, intertwining your fingers once more as he explained himself, “I used to volunteer at the police station when I was still in high school-- well it was more like an internship, but Brunner was my mentor sort of.”

He chuckled at your gobsmacked expression. He flicked your bottom lip playfully, causing you to close your mouth and threaten to hit him with your free hand. He laughed and nodded in the direction of his car, “Come on, I bet we can still catch some of the Law & Order SVU marathon if we hurry.”

“I still can’t believe you know the THE Lieutenant Brunner.”

iv.

The warmth from the sunlight illuminating your rather spacious dorm was enough to put you back to sleep. Lately you haven’t been able to get much sleep due to the many different responsibilities you had as your education progressed. But to just lie here in Percy’s embrace as he tried his very best to do as you said and go over his key points for his mock trial, everything seemed to fade out.

Senior year has been hellacious for the both of you seeing as both of your studies required a lot of work from you. You’ve passed most of your classes and only needed to repeat a few due to not passing with the required grade level your major allowed. Percy has become the top of his class however, surpassing even his upper classmates in some of the hardest classes. He was really smart and has just the amount of charisma to sway the jury in his favour, but you didn’t know how he made it this far with his hatred for studying.

He let out another groan, “This is so dumb!” He pouted and covered his face with the stack of papers in his hand, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders and shaking you slightly for emphasis. You rolled your eyes at his antics, he’s such a drama queen it’s ridiculous.

You lean away from him slightly, reaching for the papers hiding his face and freeing them from his grasp. You look over them quickly, focusing on the key points of the case and highlighting them with a blue highlighter from his stash of writing utensils. You elbow his side, eliciting a grunt from the overdramatic male, “Exactly how many murders can the suspect be linked to?”

He blinked, once then twice, giving you an unsure look he answered, “28..?” You purse your lips at his answer, “It’s exactly 24. There were 28 victims in total.” He sighed deeply, hiding his face in your shoulder and whining out that he was sort of right. You chuckled and shook your head at his actions, patting the back of his head and running your hands through his soft locks.

You decided to ask him something easier, something along the lines of vital information. You clear your throat and peer down at the papers in your hand, scanning for something a little easier for him to remember. With a sigh you ask yet another question, “What is the time span of the murders and reported sexual assault?”

He’s quiet for a short moment before answering confidently, “The suspect started off with sexual assault on teenage boys in 1970 but then started killing his victims at the end of 1970.” You were surprised at his detailed answer, but he left out a few important facts. You began to correct him when he surprised you once more, “The murders didn’t stop until mid 1973 when he was caught dousing 14 bodies in gasoline in a rented boat by the owner.”

You smile unknowingly at this. He truly was one of the best in his class and deserved every bit of recognition he got. You wondered what he could do if he fully applied himself and studied more, but the male was still hella smart and talented, it’d probably intimidate his peers if he used all of his talent at once.

“Perfect response”

His head lifted suddenly, hitting you in the jaw and causing you to jump away from him a little. He yelped and adjusted himself so he could properly assess your injury, cupping your face and sputtering apologies as he examined.

Your breathing became uneven at his touch, holding your face so close to his own. The hit didn’t really hurt as much as it had shocked you, jolting you from your thoughts with a nice accompanying knock to the jaw. You snickered at his reaction, finding it cute and funny how much he worried over his accident.

He cracked a smile once he heard your stifled laughter, “Hey, I was just making sure you were okay.” He defended, “But was I really spot on?!”

You nodded, eyes crinkling as you laughed at him, “Yes it was perfect” you managed to get out.

He merely chuckled at this, still cupping your face with one hand as the other held him steady in his position. But then his face dropped into a more serious one, watching you laugh as his heart gradually picked up pace. A million thoughts were running through his mind, but only one was clear to him.

He really wanted to kiss you right now.

The thought excited him. He was excited because he finally understood why his heart constantly did backflips when you smiled at him or why it broke when you were stood up by your dates. Even if he didn’t like the thought of you with someone else, he couldn’t pinpoint his feelings as anything more than overprotectiveness. But now he knows… and he’s more scared than ever.

Scared because he could potentially ruin a great friendship and lose the best roommate he’s ever had. Scared because there was the slightest chance that you didn’t return the feelings and only viewed him in a platonic light. And scared because he’s never felt this strongly about anyone before.

You take notice of the lack of laughter and turn your attention towards the ebony haired boy wearing a variation of his famed “courtroom” face. You pause when you notice his eyes hovering over your lips and his face getting closer with each second. You wanted so badly to close the distance, but you were afraid you were somehow misreading the situation. It was pretty obvious he wanted to do something similar to what you wanted, but there was this small part of you that stayed in denial.

When you could feel his hot breath against your lips, that’s when you knew that your assumptions were right. The faint brush of his lips caused goosebumps to rush down your spine, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

Percy stumbled back, muttering something incoherent to himself as he stood to look for his shoes. You sat in the same position, appalled and slightly hurt by his actions as it seemed he wanted to be anywhere but near you in that moment.

“I forgot I made plans with Jason and Frank later, I can’t ditch them again or they’ll never let me live it down,” He rambled as he slipped on his shoes and snagged his keys of the side table. You sat in silence as he rushed to leave your comfortable dorm, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words.

The door flew open and out went a panicked Percy, mumbling a farewell before the door clicked closed.

v.

It had been more than a week since your almost kiss with Percy and ever since then he’d been avoiding you like the plague. Even when he did interact with you he would keep it short and tense, a shy barrier rising between you for the first time in forever. You would try to bring it down by asking him the usual questions, asking him if he wanted to binge any of his favourite crime shows, but he would brush you off and claim he was too busy.

It had bothered you greatly, to the point where you were forgetting small things like when your massive chemistry research paper was due. Stressed was an understatement of how you felt at the moment. The paper was due in two days and you hadn’t written a single sentence down on your word document, the blank page staring you down and reminding you of your problems.

Percy wasn’t much better off.

The past few days have been an argument between his mind and heart… and also Frank and Jason. He had been avoiding you ever since he realized how much he actually cared for you, more than a normal friend should. Staying over at Frank and Jason’s dorm became a regular thing, only swinging by his own dorm when you were passed out on your desk to gather his things.

It hurt him to see you like this. A bad yet old habit of yours was overworking yourself because you either procrastinated until the last minute or you were determined to finish before anyone else. It took time to get you out of this habit and damn it didn’t take any time for you to slip back into it.

Frank sighed for what seemed to be the 20th time in ten minutes. He gave a disappointed look to Percy who had asked to stay yet another night at their dorm room, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Percy shrugged, “I mean it’s fine, the couch isn’t that uncomfortable y’know--”

Jason rolled his eyes, interrupting with a groan, “He meant you can’t keep avoiding Y/n, Percy!” The blond was a little more than fed up with the longing stares the dark haired male was throwing your way anytime you were around. It’s time that Percy grow a pair and confess how he really feels about you, regardless of how you may or may not feel, he needed to get this off his chest.

Percy was quiet, fiddling with the hem of his gray Ramones t-shirt. He knew Jason was right, but it was terrifying to even think about losing you, and if he confessed he was for sure that he’d lose quite possibly the love of his life.

Frank massaged his temples in thought, “I promise you won’t regret telling them, you won’t lose them or anything like that.” He paused, his next words holding impact, “But you might if you continue on like this.”

Percy nodded, his heart lurching at the true words that slipped past Frank’s lips. He checked the time on his phone, the lock screen photo of you and him covered in paint, smiling at the camera caused a small smile to spread over his tan face. He dropped his things at the door, eliciting a combined groan from each of the roommates. He spun on his heel and walked out, completely taking the others by surprise as he booked it down the stairs.

“He could’ve taken the elevator.”

“Let him be dramatic, Frank.”

It was around 1:30 am when you were startled awake by the sound of keys in the lock. You had fallen asleep in the living room once again, your laptop light illuminating the room in a low white haze. You nearly screamed once you realized that you had still yet to finish the report for Biology class tomorrow morning, but settled for a dramatic face palm.

The door clicked open, but you didn’t bother on checking who it was because you knew it was your roommate coming back for something he forgot. You leaned back against the couch staying still and hoping he’d leave you alone unlike other nights where he’d move you to your bed. It was a sweet gesture, but the first couple of times it really freaked you out.

Although this time he didn’t walk straight to his room like usual, instead he opted to sit next to you on the couch. He whispered your name, moving to see your face a bit better.

You squeezed your eyes shut, honestly just wanting nothing more than for him to leave you alone right now. If he even attempted to move you to your bed, you just might throw hands at his tall ass. You tensed as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest and swinging your legs over his lap.

You probably shouldn’t have, but you freaked out suddenly, “Nuh-uh you are not putting me to bed, I have work to do.” You grumble, glaring and pushing yourself away the best you could. He blinked, “I wasn’t going to,” He began, “I just wanted to hold you again.”

Your eyes widen slightly, “Well it’s about time you acted like a best friend.”

Percy lets out a silent laugh, his gaze cast downward, “I know I’m an ass.”

You hummed, crossing your arms over your chest. You wanted an apology and you were going to get one. You glance at him, from the corner of your eye, “Good for you.”

He pauses, running a hand through his messy waves and leaning against the armrest, “Y/n, I’m really sorry. Seriously.” He watches with sad eyes as you turn away from him, rightfully upset with him. HIs shoulders slump. He really shouldn’t have acted this way, he should’ve just taken the leap and admitted his feelings.

WIthout a reply, he parts his lips to plead once more, “Y/n I--” You yawned, shaking it off and keeping up your role. Percy cocked his head to the side, noticing how tired you look and how red your eyes have gotten from the lack of sleep. Instead of using his words, he substituted it for a chance to cuddle you close.

It was late. So late that even the group of freshmen that played around outside have decided to call it a night. Plus you were super tired and you haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a while. So when strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you into an equally comfy lap, you were more than halfway asleep. You twisted your body to mold against Percy’s, “This isn’t over, Perce.” Slurred words leaving your lips as you melted into his embrace.

He chuckled, busying himself with tracing the outline of your features, “Whatever you say, babe.” He shimmed into a more comfortable position before dozing off himself, the sweet dreams uncomparable to the moment at hand.

vii.

It was bright, a little too bright for your eyes after just waking up. “Damn”, you thought to yourself, “I forgot to close the curtains again.” You rub your eyes sleepily and stretch slowly with a yawn, building up the will to get up and close the curtains for a few more minutes of shut eye.

You push yourself up, but find yourself locked in a strong grasp, a groan filling the air as you tugged against the grip. You froze, slowly craning your head to see just who was holding you this saturday morning.

Dark lashes fluttered against puffy cheeks, brows knitted together as incoherent mumblings left his pouty lips. It was Percy, his hair messier than usual. You smile lightly, lying down to face him and take in all of his features. With your faces merely inches apart you were able to fully take in the beauty that is Percy Jackson.

It never occoured to you how handsome he really was. I mean, many have pointed it out and even used you to get closer to the handsome law major, but it never really hit you. So as you lay there with a fluttering heart, you got to see every detail of the man that had stolen your heart without a second thought. There was a tiny cut on his cheek from the many fights he’d gotten in back in his highschool days, a small scar above his left brow from falling off his skateboard at the age of 14, and a tiny mole just under his lower lip.

A small laugh escapes you, leaning in to brush your nose against his own. The action proved to be too much when his eyes began to open. Sleepy sea green eyes met your own accompanied by a grin, “morning” he rasps out.

The corner of your lips lifts in a smirk, a hum coming from you as you snuggle closer to his chest. HIs chest rumbles with his light laugh, “I see your attitude is gone.” You bring a hand up, pinching his nipple and causing him to yelp and push you away, “Ow! Okay okay it’s just dormant i guess…”

You chuckle and worm your way back into his grasp, “I’ve missed you.” His heart skips, bringing a hand up to your face and steer it in his direction. He leans down, stopping half way to ask, “Is it cool if I… kiss you?”

It was a simple question, one that took your breath away at that. You hesitated, your brain trying and failing to come up with a response. So you did what you could.

You tug his shirt, smashing his lips to yours in a sweet and delicate kiss. His eyes grew wide, not expecting such a response, but decided to roll with it and kiss the person that had him completely whipped for the past two and a half years.

He pulled away with a giggle, “Damn that was worth the wait.”

“Wait what?”

.

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.

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[ilu-writes]

Endurance

Days and Nights (solangelo)

Rating: G | Warnings: None

AO3 | FF.net |

Prev | x | Next

I genuinely can’t think of a summary for this but. They get competitive, and there’s a race, and it’s pretty cute, and also Nico discovers the biggest flaw in seeing a sweaty Will. 

“What… are you wearing?” Asked Nico, hoping his tone didn’t sound too insulting, but also not really caring. Will Solace was standing in front of him, wearing a tank top, shorts, trainers, and an orange sweatband across his forehead.

“They’re my gym clothes,” said Will, brightly.

“We don’t have a gym here.”

Will gave him a look, like, seriously?

“I know. But they’re also my running clothes.” He tugged at the shirt, which said sun, sweat, and sand in bold letters, like that would make anymore sense to Nico. Sure, he knew that normal people had ‘running gear’, but here at camp, they basically only practised in their normal clothes or some armour.

Mostly he was just trying not to look at Will’s exposed arms. Or legs. Or anywhere that wasn’t his face.

“Alright,” he said finally, deciding not to push it. “So, what, you’re going on a run?”

“Yep.” Will raised his eyebrows. “Why is that such a weird concept?”

“I just don’t see why anyone would go on a run without having to, that’s all.” Nico shrugged. Will snorted.

“Oh, of course.”

Nico frowned. “Of course what?”

“Of course you’d be confused by me going on a run,” clarified Will, smirking now. “Pretty much the only exercise you do these days is training. With your sword, more often than not. Can you even use a bow?” He tilted his head towards the archery range, and Nico folded his arms, not wanting to admit that he was almost as bad as the blonde when it came to archery.

“That’s because all the other types of exercise suck,” he retorted, scowling. Sword fighting was fun, and came easy to him thanks to the tough training he’d gone through. Everything else seemed like a waste of energy, because he was already pretty good at them. He didn’t see the point in doing them while he was still technically ‘in recovery’ after the whole statue thing.

“All exercise is good for you,” Will said, briefly switching into Doctor Mode, before rolling his eyes. “Plus, running can be fun.”

“It’s sweaty and gross.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Will picked up his water bottle off the side, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I was just coming to tell you that apparently Coach Hedge is coming back to Camp for some meeting in the next few days. I figured you guys were close, right?”

“Right,” said Nico, although he wasn’t sure how to talk to Hedge now that they didn’t have the whole trying-to-save-the-world thing to bond over anymore. Really, he just wanted to know that the satyr was settling into a relatively quiet life in LA with Mellie and the kid, but he doubted it. “That’s great news,” he said, anyway.

Will hummed in what seemed to be agreement, before holding his hands up. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your sword play,” he said, backing away. Nico furrowed his brow.

“I’m training,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “If I recall correctly, my ‘sword play’ saved you from getting killed by six Romans not that long ago, if you’d remember.”

“Please,” Will scoffed, “I would’ve been fine. They wouldn’t’ve been able to catch me. Know why?”

“If you say because you run-“

“Because I run regularly,” finished Will, looking smug. Nico gave him an exasperated look, which only seemed to fuel his amusement. “Come on, you’re just sulky because you aren’t a great runner. It’s fine.”

“That’s not at all true-“

“Hey, don’t worry about it. We all have flaws.” Will gave him a sympathetic smile, although the laughter in his eyes gave him away. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m a great runner,” said Nico, which was true, assuming he wasn’t exhausted from sleep deprivation, oxygen deprivation, or any other kind of vital deprivation, really. Will just raised an eyebrow.

“Sure.”

“I am,” insisted Nico, before wincing a little as his own tone. He constantly found himself surprised by Solace’s willingness to tease him- everyone else seemed to treat him like some scary presence who could decapitate them the second they said something wrong. And he could, but he probably wouldn’t.

“If you’re such a great runner, fine.” Will folded his arms, locking their eyes together. “Come with me. We can have a race, see who’s actually better.”

“No,” said Nico, although he was sorely tempted. Will raised an eyebrow.

“Scared?”

“No, but I did put on all this armour just so I could train, and I intend to use it,” he pointed out, gesturing to himself. Will gave him a once over that made butterflies resurrect in his stomach.

“That’s fair, actually,” the son of Apollo noted, and Nico resisted the urge to make a snide comment. “Alright- tomorrow morning, then. I usually go for an early morning jog in the summer.”

“I usually go for an early morning nap, but I guess I could make an exception,” conceded Nico, after a second. “Tomorrow morning, then.”

“Great, I’ll get you up. Five o’clock, sharp.” Will grinned, like that was a normal and not at all sadistic thing to say.

“Five?”

#

After a tiny bit of back and forth, Nico managed to push back the run until six am, but unsurprisingly his alarm going off still made him wanted to reconsider his life choices and then kill himself anyway.

He let it ring for a solid five minutes before the sound got too annoying for him, and he caved and got out of bed. He didn’t have any special running gear like Will had, and frankly you couldn’t pay him to wear any, so he just pulled on his usual black jeans and t-shirt.

When he opened the door, he found himself wincing at the light outside. Surely, surely, it was too early for the sun to already be up already, but he could clearly see it rising over Half-Blood Hill. Will, wearing yet another brightly coloured tank top and shorts, wasn’t helping.

Maybe he should’ve worn sunglasses.

“You look cheery,” beamed Will, who looked way too awake for this time of day.

Nico barely supressed a groan. “It is way too early for this.”

“Come on, I do it every day!”

“You’re a masochist.”

Will’s eyes glinted as he moved out of the way of the door. Nico took a moment to genuinely consider just conceding and going back to bed, but… he’d kind of staked his honour on this. Plus, he was already awake.

Sighing, he stepped outside and let the door close behind him. “Fine. I’m awake. Where do we run?”

“We have to do stretches first,” pointed out Will, brightly. “Otherwise you risk pulling a muscle.”

“I’ll take the pulled muscle.”

Will’s expression still didn’t falter as he started to do stretches, leaning side to side like he was in a yoga video. He shirt rode up his stomach every time he did it.

Look at his face, Nico reminded himself, although that was arguably even more awkward given how Will was moving. After about a minute, Will straightened up and put his hands on his hips. “Are you really not going to stretch?” He asked, his cheeks already slightly pink.

“Nope.”

Will gave him a once over, and for a second Nico thought he was going to call out the jeans, but then he shrugged. “Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you pull a muscle.”

Nico just folded his arms. “Where are we running?”

“Usually, I got around the camp borders and up to the strawberry fields,” explained Will, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But since we’re racing, I figured we skip the fields and stop at the lake.”

“Sounds good,” said Nico. The place where they kept the canoes wasn’t that far away. Maybe they’d be done quick enough for him to go back to sleep before his day officially begun.

Will moved to stand next to him, like it was a proper race. He counted them down, and on go, Nico propelled himself forward as fast as possible.

Maybe running wasn’t all bad, he allowed, as he sprinted around the camp. There was something refreshingly distracting about the feeling of the wind against his face, and the ground beneath his feet. It lacked the thinking skills that sword fighting did, but maybe that was a benefit – it certainly had been while he’d been training with the ghosts.

Back then, he’d been so focused on everything – the fresh loss of his sister, the realisation he was completely alone, Percy Jackson – it had been easy to throw himself into the intense training without having to think. It had also made him easy to manipulate, but he tried not to think about that too often.

He interrupted his own thoughts as he realised he’d reached the lake, slamming to a stop. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t paid attention to any of the run.

Glancing around him, he realised that Will was a surprising distance behind him, clearly running as fast as possible. Had he really been running that fast?

“Gods of Olympus,” gasped Will as he came to a stop, doubling over to press his hand to his side. “You weren’t kidding.”

“I never kid,” said Nico, which wasn’t true, before frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yep,” Will said, in what was clearly meant to be a reassuring tone, but the fact he was still panting and didn’t straighten up kind of nullified it. “You’re just… really fast.”

“I’m a good runner,” said Nico, shrugging.

“I thought I was a good runner,” said Will. “You- you are some kind of superhuman machine.”

“We’re all super human here,” pointed out Nico, before bending over a little so he was more on Will’s level. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Will straightened up, brushing his hair out of his face, and forced a smile. “I’m fine. You just winded me a little.”

“You are an awful liar,” noted Nico, and something in the other boys face flickered.

“I’m not lying,” he said, his expression morphing into one of surprise. Nico raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, you are,” he said flatly. “What’s actually up?”

“Nothing,” said Will, but he seemed to deflate. “I just thought I was getting pretty good at running.”

“You are pretty good,” said Nico, surprised. He hadn’t expected the problem to be self-consciousness. “I’m just-“

“Better?” Suggested Will, with a wry smile.

Nico paused for a second. “I have better endurance,” he said, finally. “I trained with ghosts. They have a lot of… methods.”

“Ghosts?” Repeated Will, looking surprised, but Nico didn’t really want to go into that now, so he glossed over it.

“I learnt how to pace myself. It’s all fun and games being able to go fast, but if you can only sustain it for a few minutes- it’s useless.”

“So, like, the tortoise and the hare,” said Will, before sighing. “It’s fine, I’m just being silly. I’m just- it’s fine.” There was a pause, and Nico gave him a pointed look. He didn’t know how to prompt people to talk to him, he’d never been good at it, but he hoped the look would be enough. It seemed to be, because after a few seconds, Will cracked. “I just- you have your sword fighting, and most of my cabin has their archery, and Lou Ellen has their magic- and I don’t know, I feel like all I’m good for is healing.”

“Healing is useful,” said Nico, before wincing internally at how awful that sounded. The look on Will’s face suggested he knew it, but he still appreciated the effort.

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean- you’re skills are useful, they just aren’t… physical.”

“Maybe I want some physical skills as well,” suggested Will, looking mildly amused, and Nico shuffled awkwardly.

He had an internal debate with himself, but his irrational side won. “I mean, if you really want- I could teach some stuff,” he said, and then rushed on. “Like- some kind of weaponry. And how to, um, increase your endurance and stuff. If you want.”

Will looked surprised. “You don’t have to- I’m just being whiney, you don’t have to go out of your way to try and help me.”

“It’s not out of my way,” Nico said immediately, before mentally yelling at himself to be more subtle. “I just mean- it’d be fun to have something to do, you know? Since I’ll be here for a while. If you’re up to it, I mean.”

“I’m up to it,” said Will, still looking slightly bewildered, but clearly warming up to the idea. “It sounds fun.”

“Great,” said Nico, awkwardly.

“You can’t teach me archery, though,” Will added, grinning at him. “It’s useless. I gave up a long time ago.”

“That’s fine, believe me, I won’t be teaching anyone archery for a while,” Nico assured him, unable to stop himself from smiling too. He glanced towards the cabins. People would probably be waking up soon. “Race you to the pavilion?” he offered, and Will’s expression changed to one of fear.

“Oh gods, no.” He shook his head, wrapping his arm around his stomach. “One round of physical torture is quite enough, thanks.”

[flightfoot]

A Convergence of Apollos Chapter 4

Percy’s POV

We caught the subway to the Empire State Building.

I know, I know. We could’ve just walked, it wasn’t THAT far. But none of us felt like hauling an upset metal bird around farther than we had to. Plus, while I felt great (that rain did wonders for my energy), and Grover and Meg looked reasonably energetic, Apollo was BEAT. He’d been so excited about the new clothes he’d crafted... and had crashed a few minutes later. I’d thought I’d have to carry him to the subway, which would’ve been hard since I was already carrying the birdcage. I guess summoning all those things took a lot out of him.

Some other passengers looked at us disapprovingly as we hauled our bird cage around. I guess they didn’t like how rough we were being with our ‘pet’, but after what the Celedon had put us through, I REALLY didn’t care.

Apollo collapsed on a nearby seat, breathing hard. He didn’t look sleepy at least, just exhausted.

Was all of this tiredness just from playing the lyre?

Then again, I didn’t know what he’d been doing BEFORE he materialized in the park...

Now seemed as good a time as any to find out.

“Hey Apollo?”

He looked up at me wearily. “Yeah?”

“How DID you wind up time traveling anyways?”

He let out a long sigh. “Meg and I were looking through Tarquin’s Tomb-”

“Who’s Tarquin?”

“The last Roman Emperor. He was SO bad, he was overthrown and the Roman Republic was instated.”

Apollo continued, “Anyways, we were looking through his tomb for the Sibylline books, which contain a lot of ancient prophecies. I always thought they’d been burned, but apparently not. At least, not all of them. We didn’t really know where to look, so Meg and I just kinda wandered around trying not to die.”

I nodded sagely. “Always the best plan. Dying sucks. No blue food in Elysium.”

Ok, so I didn’t actually know whether that last one was true. But considering how happy the dead were with simple Happy Meals, I figured that they didn’t have very good food down there.

Apollo laughed, a bit more life returning to his face. I grinned back at him. Was this really the same person who’d proclaimed that heroes were for running the god’s errands? He just seemed like another kid, like another demigod, fighting beside us and trying not to let anyone he cared about die, or die himself.

I still didn’t get how a god could change so drastically, but maybe... maybe they really weren’t that different?

This kind, dorky teen... maybe this side of Apollo was hidden away in the present Apollo too.

I hoped so.

Apollo chuckled, “Well, I don’t know about THAT, but I agree about dying. Pretty sure my sister would charge into the Underworld herself, drag me back, then kill me again for dying on her.”

Yes, that did sound like Artemis.

“ANYWAY, getting back on track here, we searched the tomb for awhile with no success.”

“Unless you call ‘getting chased by your nose moss’ a success,” Meg cut in.

“Eurynomos,” Apollo corrected.

“Whatever.”

“So I asked my magic prophetic arrow where I needed to go-”

I knew I shouldn’t interrupt, but I HAD to ask. “Magic prophetic arrow?”

“The Arrow of Dodona. It talks in a fake Shakespearean accent and insults me constantly. It’s quite annoying. Plus I’m the only one who can hear it, so I look like a crazy person when I consult it.”

Well, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of. Heck, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of TODAY.

“The arrow told me to go to a particular room and find a cloth woven from Fate’s threads. We searched around for awhile and found it tucked away in a chest. Then SOMEONE-” Apollo glared at Meg, who looked back, completely unperturbed, “-thought it was a brilliant idea to grab hold of something woven by the Fates themselves. I grabbed onto Meg, we vanished, then fell onto the ground with a bad case of motion sickness. And, well, you know the rest.”

I frowned. “Do you know how to get back to your time? WHETHER you can get back?”

Apollo closed his eyes, his brows furrowing. “I- I hope we can get back. No, we MUST get back. Our friends need us! I have to believe that the Arrow set us on this path for a reason.”

“Wow, you have a lot of faith in that Arrow,” I observed.

Apollo laughed wryly. “Nope. But if I allow myself to believe that we’ll never get home and that all our friends and family will die, I’m going to panic.”

Oh. Fair enough.

I decided to change subjects.

“So anything you can tell me about what’s gonna happen? Anything that will help?”

Apollo was quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally he spoke.

“First of all, you should know that I’m only from two years into the future. It’s going to be a BUSY two years. And I don’t remember that much. I wasn’t paying much attention to the world around me all of the time. Also, shoving four thousand years of memories into a mortal brain REALLY doesn’t work well. I’ve forgotten a lot, and what I DO remember isn’t always useful. But I’ll try to help.”

“Typhon was freed, and we gods left to fight him - well most of us, anyway. We didn’t succeed against him until Poseidon joined the fight.”

Apollo looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe that you were the one to convince him to intervene. I don’t remember how you persuaded him, unfortunately.”

He continued while I mulled that over, “Typhon was a distraction. While he kept us gods busy, you demigods defended Mount Olympus from Kronos’s forces.” 

He frowned, looking at me, “I don’t remember a lot of details, but I remember this much: the fight started a few days before your birthday, and ended ON your birthday. You’re the child who reached sixteen, but NOT the Hero of the Prophecy. LUKE was the hero. He chose to save Olympus at the last second.”

Wait, what? “Uh, Apollo, you realize that I’ve never actually heard the full prophecy, right?”

He blinked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You should probably learn it then. If I remember right, it goes:

A half-blood of the Eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen, against all odds.

And see the world in endless sleep.

Hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.

A single choice shall end his days,

Olympus to preserve or raze.

Well that didn’t sound great. Then again, prophecies rarely did. 

I pressed Apollo for details, wanting every bit of foreknowledge I could get. “What choice did Luke make? What endless sleep? What’s the cursed blade?”

Apollo shook his head. “I’m sorry Percy. I don’t remember.”

Looking at his mournful face, I believed him.

“So what else CAN you tell me?”

He hesitated for a moment. Carefully, he asked, “Percy? Do you remember how I mentioned Thalia’s brother?”

I nodded. How could I forget?

“Well, the reason he and Thalia were separated, the reason she was led to believe he was dead... is because he’s ROMAN, not Greek.”

What?

The confusion must have been clear on my face. Apollo elaborated, “We gods change to fit the culture we’re in. The longer and deeper the impact of that culture on us and the more different that image is, the more we differ. For most of us gods we default to Greek as our sort of ‘base’ form, but we have Roman forms as well who can look act differently. We sometimes have kids while we’re in Roman form. Those kids don’t go to Camp Half-Blood. Instead they travel to the Wolf House, where Lupa decides whether they’re strong enough to train. If she accepts them, then she’ll train them off and send them towards Camp Jupiter. If not... well... let’s just say that Lupa isn’t kind to the weak. And she doesn’t mind the taste of demigod flesh.”

I felt slightly ill. “How many does she... erm... usually fail?”

Apollo thought for a moment. “You know, I can’t actually remember her failing anyone in recent decades. I wasn’t paying much attention to Camp Jupiter though, so I can’t say for sure.”

Well that was comforting.

“Anyway, Hera was FURIOUS when Jason was born. Bad enough Zeus cheated on her with that mortal, but to then go back a few years later and have ANOTHER child with the same woman? He went too far. Jupiter, Zeus’s Roman form, gave Hera - or rather Juno - Jason’s life, even naming him after her favorite mortal as an attempt to appease her. Because naming one of his kids in her honor went SO WELL with Heracles. Luckily she took a liking to Jason. By ‘taking a liking’ I mean that she told his mother to hand him over to the wolves when he was two years old. Both she and Thalia assumed the wolves had killed him. No one corrected them. Greek and Roman demigods were supposed to be kept separate.

“But why?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we be stronger together?”

He tilted his head towards me, giving me a small smile. “Indeed you would be - if you could stop fighting.”

I frowned. “Why would we fight each other?”

“Greeks and Romans have a long-standing grudge against each other,” Apollo explained. “It didn’t help that some gods and goddesses did NOT take the Greek-to-Roman transition well. Most notably Athena.”

Annabeth’s mom?

I leaned forwards slightly. Annabeth would DEFINITELY want to know about this, if she didn’t already. “What happened to Athena?”

“The Romans stripped her of her status as a war goddess, reduced her to a goddess of crafts and wisdom, and stole her most sacred statue. They tried to break Greece’s spirit by stealing the Athena Parthenos. They succeeded, but they made a powerful enemy. Athena has NEVER forgiven the Romans for disrespecting her like that. She’s pushed the two sides to fight ever since, hoping that the Greeks would crush the Romans. There’s already a natural animosity between the two sides, it doesn’t take much of a push to get them fighting. After the Civil War, which had Greeks and Romans fighting and killing each other, we gods decided to interfere to stop our children from murdering each other. Athena disapproved of course, but she was outvoted. We increased the level of Mist around your groups, erasing all memories of the others existence from your minds. We kept an eye on any quests where you guy were likely to pass close by, increasing the Mist whenever you almost stumbled across each other. It worked! ... For a while.”

“What changed?”

Apollo grimaced. “Great-grandma started waking up.”

“Who?”

Apollo shook his head. “I don’t want to say her name. Best not to attract her attention. Ask Annabeth. She should know.”

I filed that info away for later. “What’s so terrible about your great-grandmother waking up?”

“She wants to destroy all of humanity and all the Olympian gods. She actually had some kids, the Giants, who she made for the sole purpose of destroying each of the Olympians.”

“She had kids JUST to use as an army?”

“Yep.”

“That’s messed up.”

“I’m not going to disagree with that.”

“Anything special about these Giants? Are they just like the Titans, but bigger?”

Apollo looked pained and... guilty? “It’s worse than that. The Giants can’t be defeated by a mortal or a god working alone. They can only be killed by a god and a mortal working together.”

My heart sank. “So the gods obviously teamed up with all of us demigods and helped us send them packing, right?”

“Well...” Apollo rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “You see... Father thought that maybe if we gods holed up and didn’t interact with the mortal world, that great-grandma might settle down. She didn’t.”

“Gods disobey Z- your father all the time, though! They helped, right?”

“I... guess so?”

“You guess?”

“I was kinda hiding for most of the war, so I was out of the loop.”

I frowned. “Why were you hiding? Shouldn’t you have been helping fight the Giants?”

Now he REALLY looked ashamed. “I... may have had a role in making things more difficult. Unintentionally, of course.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, he did. “One of the Campers at Camp Jupiter was a descendant of mine named Octavian. He told me that he’d make Rome strong, like it was back in the old days. That he’d make sure I was honored as one of the most important gods, above even Zeus! I liked the sound of that. I gave him my blessing. I ignored his hatred of the Greeks and his growing instability. He told me what I wanted to hear, so I ignored the warning signs.”

Apollo avoided my eyes, but kept on talking. “When Camp Half-Blood sent an envoy to Camp Jupiter, it looked like things would go well... at first. Then an Eidolon, a spirit, possessed one of the Greek demigods and forced him to fire on the Camp. The Romans assumed that the diplomatic envoy was a trick and promptly declared war on the Greeks. Luckily they didn’t know exactly where Camp Half-blood was. All of the Seven had to get out of there in a hurry.”

I frowned. “The Seven?”

Apollo blinked. “Oh yeah. You guys don’t have that prophecy yet. It went like this:

Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,

To storm or fire, the world must fall,

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death

“The ‘world falling’ sounds pretty bad,” I observed.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “It’s not, actually. This is one of those cases where the prophecy is PURPOSELY deceptive. ‘The world’ is great-grandma, it’s foretelling her defeat. As for the Seven, they are you, Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Frank Zhang, Hazel Lavesque, and Jason Grace. Frank, Hazel, and Jason are Roman.”

I wasn’t thrilled about being part of ANOTHER prophecy, but at least I’d survive past sixteen. 

Apollo continued his story. “We gods are reflections of the culture we come from. When our two groups of children started fighting, the Greek and Roman sides of ourselves started fighting too. Gave most of us SPLITTING headaches, incapacitating us. Well, except for those of us who were either exclusively Greek or Roman, or who were pretty much the same in both forms. So most of us couldn’t help even if we wanted to. But I had an additional problem.”

Apollo stared at his feet. “One of the Praetors, Reyna, was pretty reasonable. She tried to rein in the Legion. But then she had to leave, and OCTAVIAN took control of the Legion. He took my blessing as a sign that whatever he had planned had my full support. He thought that the best way to ‘solve’ the gods’ headache problem and ‘save’ New Rome, was to wipe out the Greeks entirely. Father blamed me for Octavian’s poor decision, and decided to blame me for basically the entire war.”

He smiled bitterly. “I think he just wanted to scapegoat someone, pin the blame on anyone who wasn’t him. Him sticking his head in the sand had made things way more difficult than they needed to be, and he didn’t want to look weak or stupid. Not after the embarrassment of the Second Titan War. He was SO angry with me. But he couldn’t harm me on Delos, mine and Artemis’s birthplace. Being on Delos also protected Artemis and I from the incapacitating headaches. We sat out the whole war there, until the Greeks and Romans made up. That united us gods’ essences, allowing us to FINALLY recover enough to fight back. All of us gods rushed in to fight off the Giants with you Seven, defeating them easily. Then Father called me forwards, blamed me for the war, and sent me to Olympus. I can’t remember anything else until six months later, when I awoke, mortal, hurtling out of the sky, and landed in a dumpster.”

I winced. Sounded like gods weren’t necessarily any more caring towards their divine children than their demigod ones. 

Apollo’s voice cracked, self-loathing seeping in. “I discovered just how BLIND we gods had been! Some Roman Emperors managed to make themselves immortal. They’ve been plotting their takeover for MILLENNIA. They helped fund Kronos’s army and Octavian’s attack on Camp Half-blood. They’ve been kidnapping young demigods and raising them to serve in their army.”

The subway started to slow down. “What do I need to know?” I asked hurriedly. I had a nagging sensation that I wouldn’t get to talk to Apollo much longer after this.

Evidently Apollo felt the same way, as he spoke hurriedly while the four of us (plus the bird) departed the subway and headed towards our rendevous with the current Apollo.

“If campers start to go missing a few months after the Second Giant War ends, it’s probably due to the Grove of Dodona regrowing itself in Camp Half-blood and calling for help. Nero tries to burn the grove and attacks Camp Half-Blood with the Colossus Nero. The Cave of Trophonious is in Indianapolis. Georgina was being held prisoner by Commodus. If that happens in this timeline as well, you’ll need to break into Commodus’s palace to rescue her. She also might be my daughter, not sure on that one. And- and then there’s-”

His voice cracked, ”There’s Caligula. His forces attacked Camp Jupiter shortly after I consulted Trophonious. Leo flew away to warn them. Meanwhile, Meg, Grover, and I left to rescue Herophile, another one of my Oracles, who Caligula had locked up. But we needed to retrieve his sandals in order to navigate the Labyrinth - that’s where she was being kept, yes it came back, no, I don’t know how. That’s when everything went wrong.”

A small sob escaped Apollo’s throat. “Jason, he- he’d gotten a prophecy MONTHS ago, saying that we’d only succeed if he and Piper came with Meg and I on our quest, but that either he or Piper would die. He decided right then that it WOULDN’T be Piper. He fought off Caligula long enough for us to get away, but died in the process. Crest - he’s a Pandos - he helped us get away. He helped us the next day too. He held off Medea, stopped her from destroying me, at the cost of his own life. We would’ve been finished if not for-”

Apollo startled, wide-eyed. “The Silver Wives! The Meliai! If we had just waited until they’d woken up, Crest would still be alive!”

He grabbed me urgently. “Percy. There are several special seeds that Meg’s family had been working on for MILLENNIA. They’re at her childhood home, Aeithales. Meg MUST be the one to plant them. Only she can make them grow. Wait to attack until those dryads are awake if possible. They’ll be invaluable.”

I nodded. “I will.”

Apollo let out a breath of relief and let go. 

The four of us rounded the corner. I saw the god Apollo pacing around by the Empire State Building, waiting for us. And beside him...

Mortal Apollo stood still for a moment, slack-jawed. Then he came to his surges and surged towards the second figure desperately, the three of us following in his wake.

[braveskyered]

Knights (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

The guilt remains, and Arthur knows that even though he's married now, he cannot bring himself to go back to introduce his side of the family. So he hides them, instead. Just what did the Mystery Skulls do...?

Part 3: So Long Since I’ve Wrote About It

The next day came by, and Arthur woke up in his warm soft bed, happy that he didn't have a nightmare this time. He looked to his left, and didn't see Elaine beside him. He isn't surprised, considering the circumstances.

Arthur got off from bed and attached his arm, which received many upgrades compared to the model he had back when he left Tempo. Now, his left arm received a skin covering that left it nearly indistinguishable from a real arm unless one examined it up close, which helped make him feel less self-conscious about it. Ever since Arthur left his old life behind, he never liked being outside that much with his old prosthetic, fearing that someone would stare and eventually recognize him. He even went so far as to avoid wearing orange vests like he used to, instead opting for ones with darker colors such as brown or black. He dressed in a white shirt like he usually does with dark burgundy pants, before donning the vest in question. He stared at the mirror hanging on the wall and nodded to himself.

You are okay, Arthur. You will be fine. You live for them now.

He didn't want to go back. Not now, not ever. Not when he has a wife to be with...

“Arthur, could you tend to Percy real quick? I have my hands full with Gwen. He's already been fed and changed, so I think he just wants to be held by you.”

...and two babies to take care of. He went to the other side of the room and gently lifted the three-month-old baby boy from the crib. He saw Elaine's figure poke out from the bathroom door and take a box of wet wipes from the dresser nearby before going back in. With the tiny babe safe in the crook of his arms, Arthur left the bedroom, went to his work desk down the hall, and sat down on the chair. He then grabbed a small book that held the logo of a horse's head behind a shield with a sword from the stack and opened it, then slowly went through the pages of his diary entries, casually reading through some of them.

I don't know why, but Elaine gave me this diary for my birthday. She said that if I write down the things that trouble me, I can be less stressed about it or something like that? Honestly, if I wrote all my troubles down, I'd probably fill this book twice or more by now.

He flipped a page.

I've had this for a few months now. I guess it's helping. Writing out my thoughts and then processing them has helped me plan out on how to deal with this. It helped sort out the dreams, too.

He skipped past a few pages.

I'm worried they'll find me, I left without them knowing. I don't want to go back. Lewis hates me and I'll just be in the way. Vivi wouldn't give up until she found me. I don't want Mystery to track-

He skipped many pages to avoid that entry, suppressing the fear while trying to stop his hand from shaking.

He looked at an entry that held handwriting that wasn't his.

I love you, my star. ★

What is Elaine doing writing in this? I guess I shouldn't complain, though. It's really sweet of her. I guess she's serious about us being together? I mean, it's most likely that. I DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE WITH HER.

I got separated from Elaine while we were at the show. I could've sworn I saw Lew-

...before quickly skipping all the entries past it until he reached a blank page for his next entry, and started to write the words.

It's hard to believe that Gwen and Percy are over three months old now. Other parents weren't kidding when they say that kids grow up quickly. They still like hearing me hum the chorus of Lewis's song. I wonder if he'll forgive me for using it as a lullaby. I doubt it, but I can't recall any other song that will work for them besides the noise from the dryer. So far, the New Year is off to a good start.

Arthur set the pen down. He first used the diary to write down things that trouble him, but over time, he came to write down things that also made him happy, the events he had with the family he married into that made him slowly fall for his wife, even though there were some bumps and secrets to show between the two of them. Then came the children, and Arthur would write down multiple child care tips he learned from doctors or parents that were already experienced with handling them.

For Arthur, a part of him still has a hard time believing that he is a father to three-month-old twins. If someone were to tell his twenty-two year old self that he would be married with children at twenty-five, he wouldn't have believed it for even a second.

When Arthur first met Elaine, it wasn't love at first sight, but he did have an admiration for her spirit. Recalling the memory from three years ago somewhat fondly, Arthur held his son gently, holding out a finger from his left hand for the baby to wrap his fingers around.

“Holy...! Either the mechanic at that dealership is an idiot or they actually sabotaged the thing! What the hell?!”

Arthur stood back with Elaine beside him as the two watched another of the latter's relatives, an older woman with short black hair, examine the van's engine in more detail. It took less than a minute for Arthur to find the woman intimidating, and it wasn't even directed at him! He stepped back slightly to remain behind Elaine, the woman's niece.

“Look at this!” she gestured at the engine, “It's just as the kid says, there's so much crap in these pipes that it'll take hours to get it all out! I'm surprised the engine didn't overheat and break apart when our regular brought it in! Ugh! The idiots at that used dealership used the wrong kind of silicon sealant...!”

“Still, this is a problem, Aunt Morgan,” Elaine shook her head with her arms crossed with concern, “His son is pretty tall, and they've spent at least three months looking for a vehicle like this after their last one got totaled before then. I mean, we can clean it out, but wouldn't that be somewhere around the thousand dollar range if we did that? We don't have a spare engine to replace it either, and that would cost around the same even if we did. And last I checked, our regular doesn't have that kind of money.”

Morgan sighed irritably, “I'll think of something. I'll go talk to your mother and see if there's anything we can do about it. At the very least I'll have to see if I can convince our regular to file a claim or even a police report against the dealership for attempting to sell a tampered car. I don't trust them to clean it, but I do want them to pay for it since it's their goof up.”

Elaine glanced at Arthur for a moment, then back to her aunt, “Might be a good idea to keep Uncle Miles on speed dial if it somehow goes to court by them.”

“Oh, trust me, I intend to do that from the get go,” Morgan shook her head, wrote down some notes, and turned to Arthur, “As much as I disapprove of having strangers coming in here, I must thank you for finding this issue for me. I would've eventually found it, but you did save us some good time.”

Arthur gripped his left wrist, not trusting himself to say anything, so he nodded. Elaine turned to him in concern, glancing at his arms and then at his face.

“A man of few words, huh? You're an interesting one, I'll give you that,” Morgan let out a sound of her being a little annoyed, then started to leave, “I'm going to go submit the report in my office. Elaine, go talk to Mom and see how we can repay this guy for his help, she wanted to talk to him, anyway.”

“Yes, Aunt Morgan,” Elaine nodded as she and Arthur watched Morgan go to a door leading to another room, “Sorry about her, she can be a bit hot-headed at times. Mama Vivienne should still be in her office, so... why not come with me and we can talk? I'd like to get to know you more, it's not often we get a man who's great with machines around these parts, if you pardon the pun. Well, that, and there's something she wanted to ask you.”

Arthur glanced at Galahad's cage and his bag, considering it. Looking out at the sky, the sun is just about to set, and it will be night time within the hour. If he doesn't find a motel soon, it'll be too dark to safely walk outside.

Elaine seemed to have picked up on this somewhat, “If you need to take your hamster and bag with you, you're welcome to. Or we could leave them in the office for Aunt Morgan to watch over. She won't mind if it's only for a little while. If worse comes to worse, I can also ask my father to drive you home if you like.”

Arthur flinched slightly when Elaine said the last part, causing the latter to furrow her brow. He recognized that kind of reaction, since Vivi was always great at finding minor tells that say otherwise. If she's perceptive like Vivi is...

“I'll be fine,” Arthur shook his head, “You don't need to do anything.”

Elaine's look of concern did not leave as she slowly held out a hand and smiled, “Then at least come talk to Mama Vivienne? It's not good for a king's man to keep a lady knight's time without seeing her.”

Arthur stared at her incredulously. Did... did she just... make a pun out of their names?! It caught him off guard, and he couldn't help but laugh. He took her hand, the smile still on his face.

The motel can wait.

A gurgle interrupted his reminiscence, so he looked down and saw Percy looking up at him with his pale blue eyes, wrapping his small hand around Arthur's finger. Arthur carefully caressed the little boy's blond hair, musing at how much the child resembles him, while having his mother's pale blue eyes and a white lock of hair like she did. In contrast, his daughter Gwen resembled Elaine, having completely black hair with no white locks. Other than inheriting his gold-colored eyes, Gwen didn't resemble her father at all.

Regardless, Arthur loved them both equally and smiled ruefully. He knew that he didn't deserve having his newfound family. He remembered being so scared when he first learned that he was going to be a father, but after Gwen and Percy were born, most of that fear went away as love for his children bloomed.

...Uncle Lance would have loved them.

Arthur shook the thought out from his head. Although he missed Lance, he knew that as soon as Lance caught wind of his location, so would Vivi, Mystery, and... Lewis. Arthur did not want to expose his children to them. Not with them being so young. Or ever if he can help it.

The only form of communication Arthur gave Lance were one sided letters. He would write a letter, saying that he is fine, say that he is sorry for leaving, and request Lance to not look for him, even though he knew very well that his uncle – or anyone for that matter – would ignore that part. He would travel to another city during his occasional trips around the country to investigate or hunt ghosts with Elaine and her family, and drop off the letter with the address to Kingsmen Mechanics in a public mailbox with the appropriate postage and without a return address. Elaine always made Arthur stay at home on the more dangerous jobs, so every now and then, she would drop off the letters he wrote in his place.

Arthur will never get a reply because of this, but he felt it was for the best. He made sure to never send a letter while in Cantabile or in a neighboring city, nor send them from the same place twice in a row. Sometimes he would wait for as long as four weeks before sending another letter during one of the trips. He didn't bother sending letters to the Yukino family or the Peppers, there was no point, even though he's pretty sure they would wonder how he is. He wonders if they missed him at all.

He let out a sound through a wry smile. As if they would want him back. He knew that he is no longer wanted by them, not after what happened.

Arthur thought about telling Lance about his marriage or the birth of the twins, but decided against it. The less chance about anyone from Tempo knowing about them, the better. Granted, it wasn't because he thought they would be endangered by either Mystery or Lewis if the kitsune and wraith did know, far from it. However, he did fear that it could cause a fight that would result in death on either side, and even though he is hated by them now, he did still care about their well being.

Percy started to fuss a little, snapping Arthur out of the gloom. He didn't smell anything, and Percy's clothes felt dry. Elaine said said that he's recently fed, and she never fails to tend to him after to make sure he doesn't have gas. Maybe he's too warm or cold? Arthur got up from his desk to pick up one of the spare blankets he kept nearby and swaddled his son in it in the manner his mother-in-law taught him.

The baby boy quieted down, but not completely, so Arthur held his son to his chest and started to slowly hum the lullaby he used when soothing the twins to sleep. He never actually sang the lyrics he barely recalled in the haunted mansion that Lewis's singing ghosts used when he first encountered them, but the chorus the Deadbeats sang remained deeply ingrained into his mind, into his deeply wounded heart.

*

This time I might just disappear...

Whoa-o-o-oh

This time I might just dis-

Oh mo mo mo mo

Oh mo mo mo mo (Oh yeah)

Oh mo mo mo mo oh

This time I might just disappear...

Whoa-o-o-oh

This time I might just dis-

Oh mo mo mo mo

Oh mo mo mo mo (Oh yeah)

Oh mo mo mo mo oh

*

Percy stopped whimpering, much to Arthur's relief.

“I still find it amazing that you can get him and Gwen to calm down with that,” Arthur looked up and saw Elaine with their daughter Gwen in her arms, “Every time I try to sing them a lullaby, it's like a roulette. Sometimes they sleep, most of the time they just cry. Am I so bad,” she chuckled, her last words more being a statement of fact than a question.

“I'm... sure they'll take to it when they're older,” he grinned nervously.

Elaine rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head, “What say we get the day going? Another day, another car to repair for you, and another monster hunt for me.”

Arthur nodded. While this isn't exactly like the times with the Mystery Skulls years ago, Arthur would be lying if he said that he preferred staying out of the paranormal entirely. He remembered being so afraid of everything around him, and he remembered Vivi and Lewis usually dismissing his fears, while convincing him that everything will be fine... until the cave that is.

For the Knights family, it's their duty to protect their home from any malicious beings that tend to emerge in Cantabile, so unlike the Mystery Skulls, they actually have active experience in dealing with things from monsters to ghosts and from dark creatures to demons. Because of this, during the times some of the family members (primarily Elaine and her aunt and cousin, Morgan and Eleanor respectively, who usually go off on their own) were required to travel and Arthur came along with Elaine to help with maintaining her equipment, Arthur actually felt... safe. The protective wards that Elaine kept in her van worked wonders, and he was never possessed by spirits or kidnapped by crazy cult members since then.

Well, he was kidnapped once when the two went on a date before Elaine was to start another job, but...

That also happened to be the day that he learned the secret the Knights keep to themselves.

Despite the inhuman screech, the knife didn't come down to his heart. He heard people scream in fear and in pain until it suddenly went silent.

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, and saw that he is still alive, still in his body, and still injured. The chains binding his arms, legs, and neck had broken off, allowing him to crawl out of the ritual circle with a bloody pentagram drawn on it alongside many other runes he didn't have time to identify. He tried to examine his surroundings, and through the dim candle light, saw the bodies of the cult members crumpled to the ground. Were they knocked unconscious or–

His heart skipped a beat when he felt something sticky on the ground when he crawled past a downed cult member.

– or dead? He then noticed that something is looming over him, the sound of something rattling and ringing, and went white with fear.

The giant skeleton spirit towered him from behind by several meters, being visible from the floor waist up. A purple light is shining in its left eye, a color that Arthur is all too familiar with. If Lewis truly became a demon, then...!

Was that thing summoned by the circle? Arthur looked down and saw that the monster was outside of it. Thankfully, it seemed to ignore him at first, growling at the cultists. One thing's for sure, Arthur didn't want to find out what exactly that monster is. He needs to find Elaine and get out of the cave while they still can. He wasn't ready to die yet, not when he still has sins to atone for.

Arthur had been dating Elaine for six months now, and had only just started having the confidence to take part in paranormal investigations again. The first few went okay, and when the two went to investigate this, they weren't expecting for there to be a secret cult trying to summon forth a demon made from the spirit of many dead soldiers that never received their last rites. If that giant skeleton monster happens to be the demon in question... Shaking off some of the pain, he struggled to stand up.

“Arthur...”

He looked behind him and saw the giant skeleton hold a hand out to him, looking desperate. It had to be a trick. There's no way this monster is friendly, and Arthur didn't want to risk staying to find out. If he doesn't run now...

“My knight, please!”

Notes: Arthur has become so fearful of the Mystery Skulls that he cannot return home. How does Elaine feel about this?

And the Knights are more than just a family of mechanics, it seems.

To pull off the lullaby yourself, you simply hum the chorus of Ghost, just slower than the usual beat. It's quite soothing, to be honest...?!

Knights Part 4

[mvndrvke-archive]

☯ + significant annoyance @ nico? 😉

send me ‘☯ + a scene from my characters canon’ and i will drabble it from my character’s pov.

in which luna ghostwrites the last half of blood of olympus to make it gayer. and yes, these chapters are written from nico’s pov but fight me ( blood of olympus, pg. 416, 424 )

this probably ignores everything ever and doesn’t follow the prompt in the slightest but HERE WE GO–

Okay, so maybe they’d all been right. Maybe shadow travel wasn’t the best idea– no, he knew it wasn’t the best idea– but he had a mission to complete, an army to fight, a knot in his chest that he didn’t know how else to get rid of except by taking down as many Romans as he could. So what if he dissolved into dust? Maybe it would be worth it. Then at least he’d be a hero, and not Death Boy. 

He nearly hurls the second he reforms by Thalia’s tree. His hand just about goes right through the bark. He takes a few moments to breathe before he gets up unsteadily. He’s got stuff to do, he’s got things he needs to take care of– 

“Nico?”

He spins and nearly takes Will Solace’s head off with his sword. 

“Put that down!” Will puts his hand up, alarmed, as Nico lowers his blade. Nice is all Nico can think as he stares at Will. He’s got golden hair, and kind eyes that are looking at him with a combination of worry and confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Moment ruined. It’s the question of the week, question of the month, question of the year. Wherever he goes, those words seem to follow him. What are you doing here? What the hell does it look like he’s doing?

“Me?” he snaps, immediately annoyed by the question. When did he lose his right to be at camp? Maybe he never had it. Will’s tone only makes him think that he’s once again unwanted. Shocker. “What are you doing? Getting yourselves killed?”

Will argues back, and Nico thinks his eyes might stay pointed towards the back of his head if he rolls them any more severely. If lives hadn’t been on the line, he might’ve found Will’s sense of authority charming. But when it was directed at him? Suddenly it’s a lot less cute. 

He almost– almost– gets back into Nico’s good graces. Will touches his hand, which, gross, but he’s willing to forgive that slight. 

“But if you’re planning to shadow-travel to that command tent, forget it.”

Oh, he’s ready to send this kid on a spontaneous field trip to meet one or both of their dads, depending on which direction he kicks him. 

“Excuse me?”

Will isn’t scared of him, which just annoys him even more. What’s the point of being a child of Hades if you can’t intimidate people? That’s one of the big perks of the whole thing. “Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel.” Traitor. “You can’t try that again.”

He rolls his eyes. Like the son of Apollo knew anything about shadow-travel. “I just did try it again, Solace,” he says scathingly. “I’m fine.” If fine was nearly dissolving into nothing and never returning to the land of the living? Yeah, he’s fine. Moving back in with his dad permanently was exactly his idea of a hard day’s work. 

“No, you’re not. I’m a healer.” You’re a jerk is what he nearly says, but he bites his tongue. “I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it.” Again, gross. “Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight.” Don’t call me out like this. “But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back.” Will sounds concerned, even under all the authoritative shit on top of it. “You are not shadow-traveling. Doctor’s orders.”

His lip curls in another snarl. “The camp is about to be destroyed–”

“And we’ll stop the Romans. But we’ll do it our way.” His way sounds idiotic, but he tunes that part out, just a little bit. No one’s ever acted like this with him, unafraid of his abilities and agonizingly determined to be in charge. But of course– “–no more shadow-travel.”

Ruined it. “But–”

“No.”

He pouts like a child. Maybe he’d been wrong about Will. Maybe he wasn’t the easygoing, popular dud of a human being he’d thought he was. No, this was Will as he really was– certain of himself, authoritative, confident. Tall, and blonde, and–

No. No, he’s still mad at him, and he’ll remain that way until he dies, which may very well be soon considering how his day’s been going. “Whatever,” he says. “But we have to hurry.” It’s not enough. He’s being too nice. He scowls at Will. “And you’ll follow my lead.”

“Fine,” Will says. Nico smiles, just for a second, before smacking the look off his face. He’s mad at Will. His attitude and his determination to be in charge and his annoying level of caring– he stops thinking about it. He rolls his eyes at Will, turns, and starts towards the camp.

There was only so much power he could exert before his body started to break down completely, and if he was being honest, he’d hit that point about two shadow-travel trips and a summoned skeleton ago. He watched the skeletons of dead Romans come crawling out of the ground before his head started spinning, and he half-stumbled directly into Will Solace. 

Great, he thinks. Now I have to deal with this. 

If he had the energy, he probably would’ve been embarrassed to be tucked securely in Will’s arms. He sags against him instead, trying to focus his eyes for a moment. He feels the color rise in his ears. It’s nice, almost– 

“You idiot.” And it’s gone. He scowls at Will. “I told you no more of that Underworld magic.”

That Underworld magic. I’m a prince of the Underworld, thank you very much, he wants to say. “I’m fine,” is what comes out of his mouth instead. He practically spits it. 

“Shut up. You’re not.” 

A wave of annoyance shoots through his body, which is still being held up by Will’s arm around him. He’s leaning against him, and doesn’t straighten. He needs the support, and if he wasn’t so angry, it’d actually feel kind of reassuring. 

He is angry, though. Will forces him to take a piece of medicinal gum– what the hell is that anyway?– and he chews it angrily. The others come back, they talk. He’s barely paying attention, he just focuses on how annoyed he is at everything– at Will, at Octavian, at the Romans, at the fighting, at himself. 

He barely realizes Lou Ellen’s addressed him. “Thanks for the skeletons,” she says. “Great trick.”

“Which he won’t be doing again,” Will chimes in, tone severe and almost warning. 

Like he could stop Nico if he tried. He shoves Will away from him, lip curling in what’s almost a snarl. “I’ll do what I need to.”

Will rolls his eyes. Nico feels ready to punch him. Someone caring about him wasn’t rare anymore. Jason cared, Hazel cared, Percy– well, he stops himself from thinking about Percy. He’s already mad, he doesn’t need to make himself upset on top of it. Will’s standing here in front of him, looking at him like he’s a child insisting an R-rated movie isn’t going to give him nightmares. 

“Fine, Death Boy.” Nico’s whole body tenses. It hurts, for whatever reason, to hear Will call him that. Other people call him Death Boy, sure, but he’s learned to tune it out. He’s learned to ignore it, embrace it, lock it away in a little box in his brain of cruel nicknames he’s been called a hundred times before. But Will saying it stings. His hands curl into fists at his sides, and the trembling in his shoulders isn’t from exhaustion anymore. “If you want to get yourself killed–”

“Do not call me Death Boy!” It’s so easy to snap. He’s too quick to anger, he’s too impulsive to stop himself, he’s too emotional, but he doesn’t care. Because it hurts, and his voice shows that. The look on his face shows that. He doesn’t know why it hurts so much for Will to say it, but he’s ready to fully fight him over it. He opens his mouth, inhales, points an accusing finger at him– 

“DROP YOUR WEAPONS!”

Octavian’s voice makes a shiver go up Nico’s spine. His hand drops, and his lips purse as his nostrils flare. He takes all of his anger, all his embarrassment and shame and annoyance, and he focuses it in the pit of his stomach. The grass around his feet wilts. The Romans chose the worst time to catch them. He turns to face Octavian, who looks at them like he’s won the damn lottery, and clenches his fists. Octavian looks at his horrible, dog-headed monsters. “Tear them apart.”

He lifts his sword. Good. 

[blue-hippogriff]

Exhausted

Hey guys, this is a fanfic I wrote a while ago and I would love for you guys to check it out!!

Percebeth, rated T (only some cute cuddles ;) )

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12581830/1/Exhausted (pls ignore my account name, long story) OR just read it here :)

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03:24 AM

She was exhausted. Again.

She lost track of time. Again.

Percy was most definitely going to lecture her about working overtime. Again.

She will be physically unable to leave a more than a meter from her bed tomorrow morning and blame herself for it. Again.

It was a horrible cycle.

But Annabeth couldn't help it. Architecture was her life and soul, her dream since she was a little kid. When teachers in school asked what they wanted to be when they grew up, the most common answers were 'princess' 'nurse' 'doctor' and 'ice-cream tester'. This is why Annabeth did not get offended when the kids threw her confused (and some dirty) looks in her direction when she stated that her dream job was to become an architect.

The idea just appealed to her in so many ways. She knew from a young age that she was in fact smarter than most kids, although sometimes she wouldn't even know where all the knowledge was coming from. It was like someone had inputted this extra piece of brain in her, just to store enough information so people could classify her as smart. Smart, but not stuck up. She hated the stereotypical idea of that intelligent people also possessed the quality of being cocky and arrogant. Sure, she tends to get a little…aggravated when people answer in the wrong tense or misspells a word, but surely that small habit can't place her in the 'stuck-up' category of their society?

Annabeth sighed out loud as she kicked of her heels and her sore feet were freed from their captive. Her toes were sore and her heels were rubbed red from wearing those blasted heels for a whole day. She limped slightly as she made her way through the narrow but long corridor, motivating herself that a big, comfy bed was within a few footsteps. She squinted at her watch, the only light source was the moonlight coming through the two small windows in the living room of the apartment.

03:28 AM. Shit. Percy's probably already drooled half a gallon of drool onto her pillow already.

Percy.

He's been swimming around in her head the whole day. Since she is working in her office in New York nearly all the time now – leaving at 6 in the morning and not returning till late- their time together was getting cut down more and more. Percy worked as a trainee lifeguard at their local pool and the staff and customers loved him to bits. Who wouldn't like a funny, caring, talkative 18 year old goof? Although Annabeth suspected, no, knew for a fact that those giggling high school girls were drooling over his looks, and not his not-so-funny jokes. (On second thought, if Annabeth was a giggly high school girl, she would most definitely drool over Percy, just maybe not so noticeably.) Although she was happy for both of them to have found a steady job for themselves, she missed him terribly when he wasn't around her.

There were no words to describe her feelings for Percy, and you would rarely catch Annabeth speechless. He was truly the best boyfriend she could possible ask for, sometimes if she looked at him for too long, she would start questioning him whether he was real or not. (And he would laugh at her and then would kiss her.) He stuck with her through thick and thin, and Annabeth constantly reminds herself that this was the scrawny, annoying 12 year old kid that showed up at Camp Half Blood and drooled in his sleep (Old habits stick around forever, they say).

Just the mere thought of Percy plastered a wide grin on Annabeth's face, and she speed-walked the rest of the way to their bedroom. She gingerly creaked open the door, just enough to admire the scene of Percy laying on their bed, hands sprawled on their pillows, and sheets tangled in his long legs. He always sleep shirtless and only left his boxers on, complaining that it got too warm at night. Not that Annabeth was complaining of course. This way, she could look at his abs and V-line without any hassle.

She chuckled and shook her head slightly at how childish he looked in bed, his mouth half open and drool on the edge of his lips. She tiptoed inside the bedroom, grabbed her towel, her pyjamas and undergarments and headed straight for the shower. The quicker the shower, the quicker I get to cuddle with Percy, Annabeth thought.

After her short, warm shower, Annabeth was finally ready for bed. She felt clean and refreshed, she had thrown on a loose tank top and some cotton shorts as pyjamas and felt extremely comfortable. But the hot steam from the shower had made her drowsy, and the drowsiness very quickly turned into exhaustion. She left her towel to dry in the drying rack in the bathroom, hastily brushed her teeth and stumbled back into the bedroom. She tried her best to wake Percy up as she crawled into the bed beside him, resting her head on his bare chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. She untangled the sheets with her legs and pulled them up so only her lower half of her body was covered. She planted a soft peck on Percy's chest which caused him to stir in his sleep.

'Sorry, did I wake you?' Annabeth asked after kissing his chest again.

'I was supposed to wait for you anyway, so great timing.' Percy replied while pulling her in closer to him. She didn't need to look, she could hear the smile in his voice. He was always smiling nowadays. It was a great change after the events of Tartarus. For the first few months, they would have the same continuous nightmares night after night. She would wake abruptly from her slumber, sweat dripping down her forehead and her palms sweaty. On the worse nights, she would bite her knuckles until they drew blood in order to withhold her loud sobs. The fact that she needed Percy by her side each night to chase away the nightmares, Annabeth hated herself for being so dependent on him. She would constantly scold herself for showing a sign of weakness. She knew Percy had it as bad as her, maybe even worse. Yet each night he would still remember to call her to tell her goodnight and sometimes they even Iris Messaged till morning. But those days were over. Now, since they lived together, the nightmares were slowly fading away. She was extremely grateful for Percy, to be able to fall asleep peacefully each night in his warm embrace.

She was broken away from her trail of thought when Percy moved his arms to pull the covers over them, tucking them in.

'I can feel you shiver in the middle of night,' Percy explained while tucking a golden curl behind her ear. He was fully alert now. 'Do you want me to get the extra blanket from the closet?' He asked, searching Annabeth's eyes for an answer. The concern and sincerity in his eyes made Annabeth's heart melt inside her body.

'I'm fine Seaweed Brain,' Annabeth said as she shrugged off the covers off her and Percy. 'I'd much rather freeze to death than to drown in your sweat.' She joked playfully.

'Oh come on, I'm practically naked and sweat can't even drown you.' He said while pulling the covers up again, this time snug under Annabeth's chin. 'And I don't want to have to look after 'Sick Annabeth' for week.' Annabeth rolled her eyes affectionately at his statement.

'Percy, I'm not cold.'

'But you will be,'

'Not in this exact moment in time,'

'Better safe than sorry.'

Annabeth made an annoyed huff and threw the covers off the bed. They landed on the wooden floor with a soft thump. After a heartbeat, Percy then let out a soft, quiet but hearty laugh he had tried to hold in. Annabeth soon joined in with her quiet giggles and soon the soft covers on the floor were forgotten. Once they calmed down from their laughing fit, they settled into a comfortable silence for a while, both with happy smiles on their faces and staring up at the ceiling.

You know in the movies, whenever a character comes up with a mind-blowing idea, a little lightbulb appears just above their head? Well, Annabeth would like to consider her sudden idea as a 'lightbulb idea'. A mischievous ghosted her lips and disappeared just as quickly as a loud sigh escaped from her lips, breaking the silence around them.

'You know what Percy? You're right.' She said dejectedly.

Percy raised an eyebrow and his face contorted into a confused expression. '…I am?' He was not used to Annabeth saying 'you're right' to him often, this time he didn't even know what he did.

'Yeah, you're right. I get extremely cold during the night-'

'Then why'd you throw our sheets-'

He was stopped mid-sentence when Annabeth shifted from her spot from the bed until she was straddling him.

'Pity I don't have anything to warm myself up with…' She replied slyly while running her index finger along Percy's chiselled jawline. Realisation hit Percy like truck and he would've smacked himself in the face if his hands weren't already travelling up to Annabeth's hips. He swiftly flipped them over so he was hovering about two inches above her.

'I know a guy who does the job nicely,' He growled, already dropping kisses down her neck and collarbone, yanking her tank top out of his way. Annabeth hands travelled to his soft, raven-black locks, messing his hair up even more and let out a content sigh as Percy sucked on a sensitive spot just below her ear.

03:55 AM

At that particular moment in time, Annabeth was no longer exhausted.

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any feedback or constructive criticism is welcome, I really want to improve my writing and other people's opinions matter alot to me :) feel free to ask me anything and message me!! muchos gracias~

F <3

[nevillelongsbottom]

i didn’t finish it and i don’t know if i ever will but i was writing a dystopian hp au and the plot was shit and not-thought-about so also nonexistent but the characters? they were my faves?

percy as the mafia boss, head of the entire city; he’ll give you a playful smile at work in his office that he’s demanded even though he doesn’t fucking deserve one, and the next day you’ll see him on the street in his billowing coat with his eagle-head walking stick and you know he’s away for business; he’s quietly threatening but with enough time for everyone, with the time to work for the city and for the greater good (the greater good), and plenty time to worm his way into almost 2 years’ worth of maternity leave for audrey

speaking of audrey: her, dean, and seamus are known as the “arsonists” - they’re in charge of the bombs, of the making and defusing, and they’re just straight-up besties. they go for pints after meetings and go over to each others’ houses no matter how long the train journey, and stand and concernedly chew their thumbs while one of them is on their belly trying to deal with an IED, and laugh afterwards anyway. they’re also The Crew for draco’s mental health, because they keep checking on him obsessively. audrey’s their most experienced, their technical goddess, bald-headed and black-clad wearing doc martens and the one out of her and her husband who looks like she could actually beat someone’s head in - she’s, in all honesty, probably more terrifying than him, but not to seamus and charlie, oh no. charlie’s raising animals in his backyard living with luna and rolf and they’re infamous for being three absolute nutcases, but charlie’s sweet and he’s in charge of their little crazy bomb department. seamus, of course, is their little irish firecracker who gets sent in to actually do things, and when the day’s over, he pops in to the hospital to give dean a grin and a hand before he even thinks of heading home.

fred and george are in charge of the media - you say something that rubs them the wrong way, you’re getting smeared in the papers the next day. they��re not to be messed with, under any circumstances; they’re nice, though, and spend a lot of their time just wandering around. george can usually be found with his wife angelina and a huge shaggy black dog; fred can be found exactly where you least expect him.

draco’s a tired boss who just needs a lie down and wants his boyfriend neville back at home, not out training new recruits fucking hours away. he and harry don’t talk often enough, and he’s sure that harry is just a fucking slacker underneath it all, him and his annoying little redhead right-hand man ron. he feels like it’s him having to make all the executive finger-pointing decisions, and he’s always half-asleep at meetings from stress and drinks ungodly amounts of coffee and charlie often wonders whether or not he should get someone to just follow draco around and make sure he’s still alive there. he’s a defect, too, from the other side; nobody’s sure whether he’s safe, really, even though fred and george took him under their media wing, boosted his profile, trusted him expressly because harry told them to. he ignores the hecklers. 

now, i didn’t finish - so there were lots of characters out there who probably would’ve gotten their say, eventually. dean and hannah are in the hospital and work almost non-stop, but dean’s always got the time for seamus at home; hannah’s intense, sweet but hardened because she’s seen everything before, but if you need a tea break, she’ll let you have one if you can afford one. ron is, obviously, harry’s right-hand man, and i imagined hermione as working closely with him, too - don’t know about ginny and bill, but they probably both would’ve been somewhere in charge of the city, too. ginny probably kicks butt, and she’s probably good friends with audrey. i don’t think i had any solid plans for anyone else, save maybe the quidditch players, but yeah.

i’m prolly not gonna write it but i just loved the characters you know? 

[millie-with-a-y]

let the two blond ones fight, they're an invasive species. nerd v nerd combat

Instead of the “Jason vs Percy” rivalry we should have gotten Annabeth vs. Jason but instead of a fight for power it’s them having a battle of autism cause their special interests were Greek myths vs Roman myths.

Jason calls a Greek god by their Roman name and Annabeth pops up out of nowhere and goes “erm, actually”

The 7 is talking about some landmark and Annabeth and Jason start arguing about which pantheon it was dedicated to.

“It’s amazing right? It was dedicated to Athena.” “Erm, it was actually built for Mars…”

[1asbrightasthestars3]

YES YES YES

Instead of the “Jason vs Percy” rivalry we should have gotten Annabeth vs. Jason but instead of a fight for power it’s them having a battle of autism cause their special interests were Greek myths vs Roman myths.

Jason calls a Greek god by their Roman name and Annabeth pops up out of nowhere and goes “erm, actually”

The 7 is talking about some landmark and Annabeth and Jason start arguing about which pantheon it was dedicated to.

“It’s amazing right? It was dedicated to Athena.” “Erm, it was actually built for Mars…”