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#my fics: pjo
tragedykery · 4 months
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rating: T
relationships: Silena Beauregard/Clarisse La Rue, minor Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf
additional tags: Fluff and Angst, Oblivious Silena Beauregard, Feelings Realisation
word count: 6560
written for @sapphic-summer-riordanverse day 4 & 5: "fruit" + "history repeats itself"
It was comfortable to lie here like this, with her head in Clarisse’s lap, talking and eating and watching the sunset work its magic upon the landscape. She felt warm inside, giddy and content and free. Here, in this moment, she was the happiest she had ever been.
(If only she had known what was to come.)
[Silena and Clarisse go strawberry picking together.]
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meiinoe · 20 days
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chase cousins i miss them i miss them so much
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i love how different percabeth is from different male lead narrated american middle school romances from the romantic point of view. usually, the male lead has a crush on the cold and kind of mean female protagonist cause she's pretty and not like the other girls.....she's pretty and not like the other girls....thats it oops. but annabeth and percy. annabeth fell first. even though she's cold and sassy too, she believed in percy. she saw the good in him and loved him for it. then percy fell. he didnt have to worry about whether annabeth would like a loser like him. yeah, he doubted why annabeth liked him once in a while, but it was a never a question of 'does she?' its healthy. and thats what makes rick riordan one of the best middle school authors ever thank you bye
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Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time. 
It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training. 
His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.
Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.
Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”. 
He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.
Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.
Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.
With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace. 
The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.
These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him. 
He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.
 But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately” 
“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.
Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.
Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.
He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy. 
Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him. 
Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.
Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.
This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.
His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.
Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.
Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.
Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.
Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.
His father. Jason's father, Zeus. 
Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much. 
Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time. 
Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying. 
She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less. 
He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.
Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.
Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes. 
To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.
To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.
To your father, you are merely one of his many sons. 
To your sister, you are a stranger.
Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed. 
“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.
 Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.
Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.
Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero. 
The lost hero. Jason Grace.
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mediumgayitalian · 6 months
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“Oh, fuck.”
The clatter of her practice sword on the ground is almost louder than the crunch that rings out from his wrist. He inhales sharply, biting back a shout — no matter how many times it’s happened, he will never get used to breaking a bone. That shit hurts.
“Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck, Seaweed Brain, is it broken?”
“Think so,” Percy grits out. He tries for a smile, and Annabeth matches it, small and worried. He leans into the hand she cups over his cheek. “Not too bad, though. If I just dump my water bottle on it —”
“Absolutely not. Water healing leaves you achey when it rains, you know that.” Shifting to wrap her arm around his waist, she helps him stand, shouldering some of his weight like it’s his ankle that’s broken. He lets her, reaching down to squeeze the hand resting on his hip — I’m fine. We’re good. She turns her hand to wrap clasp their hands together — Okay. If you’re sure.
They walk together to the infirmary, taking their time. Aside from the pain pulsing from his arm, it’s not too bad — camp is as balmy as usual, and the spring break energy is practically visible, it’s so potent. The Demeter cabin has plants growing everywhere, flowers and fruit trees blooming as bright as a box of new crayons, and the air is filled with shouts of laughter and teasing. Annabeth’s steps fall in time with his, and she’s a comfortable warmth at his side, pressed from shoulder to hip.
“You still okay?”
“Yep.” He catches her eye, smiling crookedly at her. “Doesn’t even make my top fifty.”
She rolls her eyes, hipchecking him. “Don’t I know it, ya klutz.”
“Not sure I would call being flung from the St. Louis Arch being a klutz. Or exploded in a volcano. Or crushed under the sky. Or slashed by giants. Or chased by —”
“You’re talking, but all I’m hearing is Annabeth, please, please pinch me, as hard as you can —”
“Hey! Get those claws off me, gods you’re worse than an empousai —”
“— and when you’re done pinching me please put me in the tightest headlock you can manage —”
“I am injured! You are beating up an injured person right now!”
“— and then please just bite a chunk out of my shoulder —”
“Cut it out or I’m telling Mom!”
“Wimp,” she taunts, finally releasing him. “I don’t go running to Sally every time I lose a fight.”
“Wha — you do so!”
She ducks through the infirmary door, smirking like she can’t hear him.
“You literally — you snitched on me last week! I got grounded for two days!”
“And you deserved it,” she says primly.
He gapes. “I did not!”
“Anytime you two are done,” Kayla drawls, shoving a clipboard at them. They accept it with matching sheepish grins, cowed at her perfectly arched eyebrow and slowly tapping foot. “I got patients to deal with and older brothers to harass. Let’s get this moving.”
She is shockingly good at humbling people for a thirteen year old. The two of them turn to their clipboard, chagrined, letting her stomp away with an exasperated He’ll be with you soon! Don’t set off the sprinklers again!
“That was one time,” Percy mumbles, ears reddening.
Annabeth pats him on the back. “There, there,” she says mockingly. “The fact that it was one time definitely negates the fact that you flooded the entire Big House because you got jumpscared by a child.”
“Harley can be sneaky, okay. Let me live.”
“Literally no.”
Annabeth does most of the paperwork for him, ‘cause she’s a nerd because his wrist is far too swollen for him to write properly, so it takes maybe half the time it normally would. The infirmary is crowded as Hell, though (he knows, he’s been), so they settle in for the wait, amusing themselves by tearing little pieces off of a blank form, balling them up, and tossing them in increasingly harder places. Percy is winning 7-4, although Annabeth might just pull through if she manages to toss her paper ball into Travis’ wide-open snoring mouth.
“Hey, guys. Sorry for the wait.”
Aw. She missed. Percy was looking forward to that.
“Hey, Will.”
He drags his attention away from the son of Hermes to greet his friend, but frowns before he can open his mouth.
“Woah, dude, you good? You look exhausted.”
Will snorts. “Welcome to spring break, man.” He holds his hand out for the clipboard, scanning it briefly. “Sparring injury? Oh, thank the gods. I could use a break. Here, face me.”
He climbs up onto the minimal left over space on the cot, tucking his legs under his thighs. Percy turns to mirror him, hesitantly sticking out his arm — A break? he mouths to Annabeth, meeting her eyes over Will’s head.
She shrugs.
“Just spent four hours putting Jake’s nose back on his face,” Will mumbles, placing a careful hand on his fingertips and his forearm. Percy flinches — his skin is blisteringly hot. Like someone just dropped a hot stone onto him. “I never want to sing a skin cell hymn again in my life.” He prods at Percy’s wrist for a moment, gentle enough not to hurt. “Okay, hold still, I’m gonna fix ya right up.”
Healing hymns are familiar, by now, but Percy will never get tired of them.
The cool thing about ambrosia and nectar is that as pleasure food for the gods, it’s pleasant. It’s whatever taste you want, whatever you need to have most, you get it. But healing hymns are intentional the way nectar and ambrosia aren’t. Ambrosia and nectar happen to be healing for demigods — healing hymns were constructed to knit you back together, like you mother smoothing a bandaid over a skinned knee. They’re warm and sweet and deeply, endlessly comforting in a way most things simply cannot claim to be. They don’t feel like a medical procedure or a hasty patch job, they feel like someone gripping you tightly and promising you’ll be okay. They feel like getting carried to bed when you fall asleep on the couch. They feel like sitting down after hours of standing, like a drink of water when your throat is drier than sand. Healing hymns draw the pain and sick and ache from your body, and they feel like relief.
But this time, Percy can’t focus on it.
With every word, Will seems to get a little duller. Nothing like the horrible ash-grey he went in the war, dragging the poison from Annabeth’s body, but like his usual sunny disposition was dialed down a few notches. Enough that Annabeth frowns in concern, drumming her hands on her thighs, watching him closely.
“There,” Will says, pulling away. Percy turns his now-healed wrist, noticing the slight pant to Will’s breath, the strain to his smile. The shake of his blistered fingertips.
“You look overworked,” Annabeth says quietly.
Will holds his hands up in a what can you do gesture. “Spring break.”
“You said.”
“It’s just busy, is all.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Guys,” he interrupts, smiling tiredly, “there are two hundred ADHD demigods at this camp right now who have been trapped in a classroom for six months. There are three of us. I’m going to be a little drained; we’re all a little drained. But I’m fine, okay?” He gives them a second to scrutinize his expression, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I have been running my infirmary for years. I know how to pace myself, and I certainly know how to make sure my siblings are pacing themselves. If something goes really wrong, Chiron is a whistle away. I can go longer than you guys without sleep, anyway. Apollo kid health.”
“If you say so,” Percy says reluctantly. “I just — I can wear a wrist brace, man. Not every injury needs to be handled when it happens. You can tell people no.”
“I appreciate that, Percy, and I’ll keep it in mind. Anyways, I’ve got more patients. Stay off that wrist for the rest of the day, okay? It might be tender for a bit.”
Percy turns to Annabeth as Will leaves, frowning. He’s has never noticed the so-called spring break stress before (his camp spring breaks are usually a blast, but now that he’s thinking about it, he can’t think of a single spring break where he spent any time at all with Will, which is odd), but it can’t be good for him. There’s gotta be something they can do to ease some of the bruising under their friend’s eyes.
“I could set off the fire alarms again,” Percy suggests. “That’ll certainly get this place cleared out.”
Annabeth snorts. “I think that’ll cause more harm than good, Seaweed Brain. It’ll just fall in him to clean it all up, after.”
“Shoot.”
Percy counts nine of the forty cots currently unused. Will, Kayla, and Austin are rushing from cot to cot, handing out nectar, wrapping bandages, rattling off hymns at light speed. All three of them look exhausted, squeezing shoulders when they pass each other, knocking hips, exchanging tired smiles. This is so clearly something they’re used to.
Annabeth’s head rests on his shoulder.
“It wasn’t always like this,” she whispers. “When it was fully staffed…”
Percy exhales heavily. Yeah. He remembers. There was a lot less complication, once upon a time. The most chaotic the infirmary would get was when Lee would challenge his siblings to Hymn Karaoke — trying to heal with pop songs. There was a lot more laughter, at one point. A lot more people.
Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. It never does well to dwell, but he — gods, he wish they all had more time. To sit with it, to acknowledge…everything. Siblings. Friends. A camp that’s smaller than it’s supposed to be.
Annabeth squeezes his hand again, and he squeezes back, resting his head on top of hers.
“Hey,” she murmurs after a moment, pursing her lips at the front door. “Look.”
Slinking through the entrance like a criminal is Nico, in all his dork ass black camp shirt glory. He looks around shiftily, like he’s trying to make sure no one sees him, and when his gaze lands on Percy and Annabeth his eyes widen. Annabeth smiles at him, but it does nothing to ease the spooked look to his face, back arched like a startled cat. He turns to leave, but before he can slip back out the door —
“Nico!”
The son of Hades whips back around so quickly he brains himself on the doorframe. Percy ducks his head and bites his lip, hard, because he can feel Nico’s glare at the side of his head like the press of hot coal, and if he laughs as badly as he wants to then the infirmary is about to look like a Spirit Halloween.
Will turns back to his patient, squeezing his eyes shut and rattling a hymn off so quickly it makes a burst of light pop from his whole body, and rushes over to where Nico’s standing. He only trips over two things, which is remarkable for him. Percy would be proud if he wasn’t a little embarrassed on his behalf.
“Nico! Hi!”
“He-ey, Will,” Nico says, voice cracking badly on every vowel. Annabeth shoves her face into Percy’s shoulder, body shaking.
“I didn’t know you were coming! I thought you were in the arena all day.”
Nico shrugs, shoes scuffing the floor. “I am. I just — uh, I got hurt? So. Came to see you.”
Will’s beam is so bright it hurts to look at, a little. Percy squints and realises that’s not just the excitement, actually — he really is glowing, faintly. His hands flap slightly at his sides.
“Well, you’re in the right place, then.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, rocking back on their heels. Will watches Nico closely, biting his lip. Nico looks resolutely at the floor.
“We weren’t this bad,” Annabeth whispers, “were we?”
Percy shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way.”
“Gods. It’s so — I don’t know whether to smile or take a dip in the Lethe. It’s embarrassing and endearing at the same time.”
“Painful to watch, but I can’t stop looking,” Percy agrees.
“What’d you hurt?” Will asks, finally. “Did you pull your shoulder again?”
A look of panic flits briefly across Nico’s face until he smooths it to something neutral, aloof.
“Yep. Totally. During — sword fighting, I swung — I did this really big thrust, actually. Just — hugely powerful, training dummy exploded on impact.” He clears his throat. “Some might say too powerful. If you can imagine.”
Percy cradles his head in his hands. “Oh my gods — ”
“Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh,” Annabeth chants, “oh my gods, don’t laugh —”
A light flush dusts Will’s cheeks. He brushes a strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his earrings. “Woah, really? I’ve never heard of that before.”
Nico smirks, standing up a little straighter. “Well, it’s not the first time. I tend to go pretty hard.” Remembering his supposedly hurt shoulder, he exaggerates a wince. “Too hard sometimes, I guess. Could you do the — the energy thing?”
“Oh — gods, yeah, sorry. Hold on.” He stares at Nico’s shoulder, hesitating. “It, um, works better with skin-to-skin contact.”
“I have seen crystal vases less transparent,” Annabeth says, aghast. “In two years he’s going to remember this and try to drown himself.”
“I will be counting down the days,” Percy says gleefully.
On rare, rare occasions, the gods answer his prayers. Clearly, both Nemesis and Aphrodite are looking at him kindly today. Percy makes a note to scrape some of the good stuff off his plate for them both today. Hell, maybe he’ll skip the portioning and toss them an entire roast chicken each. Or something. They deserve it.
Will places both hands — interesting, Percy notes, his wrist was snapped cleanly in two and he only needed one hand, wonder why that was — on Nico’s shoulder and closes his eyes, screwing up his face in concentration.
“Huh. I’m not feeling much damage. You said it was your right shoulder?”
“I heal quick,” Nico says loudly. “I mean, some of the damage might have — um.” He clears his throat. His face glows a faint crimson. He clears his throat again. “Y’know?”
Will’s face is a similar shade.
“Right, right. Yeah. Um, brace yourself.”
Instead of starting to sing, Will closes his eyes, holding completely still. After a moment, the tips of his fingers begin to glow; soft, ambery yellow, flickering like lit candles. He opens his eyes again and focuses intently on Nico’s bare skin, tracing patterns around every defined muscle, leaving a trail of light behind. He lingers, for a moment, when he connects the last string of light, waiting until it has faded entirely from Nico’s skin to remove his hands and shove them in the pockets of his coat.
“That better?” he asks softly.
Nico swallows. “Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad, Nico. It means a lot that you — came to me. When you needed it.”
“I trust you, I guess.” Nico looks away. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Percy says thoughtfully.
Annabeth laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Don’t be mean.” She pauses. “Me too.”
With a sigh that can only be described as besotted, Will steps reluctantly away.
“I have patients,” he says, in the same tone of voice Percy usually says I have midterms. “So I gotta…”
“Yeah, no, go. Do your —” Nico gestures vaguely. “Doctor thing.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m gonna — go.” He turns, walking back towards a group of Hephaestus kids who appear to be tightly entangled in some kind of net. After a few steps, though, he pauses, biting his lip, then darts back over to Nico, pressing a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek — “Um, bye. Thank you for visiting. Bye,” — and then runs back over to his siblings, shy smile on his face.
Nico’s jaw is brushing the floor of his father’s palace. He stands, still as a statue, for four entire minutes.
“I think he just died,” Annabeth observes, eyebrows climbing higher and higher up her forehead with every passing second “Damn. Survived so much only to literally die because a cute boy kissed his cheek. A true hero’s end.”
Percy, because he is a kind, concerned friend, clears his throat loudly.
“Yo, di Angelo, you alive?”
Nico startles so violently he falls right over. Percy shoves his fist in his mouth to keep from cackling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Nico hisses venomously, scrambling upright. “Both of you, shut the — not a word —”
Percy and Annabeth make the mistake of looking at each other and simply erupt. Percy can’t feel his stomach. His lungs have abandoned ship. He’s glad as hell he’s in the infirmary because he is heaving for breath, tears streaming down his face, entire body convulsing. Nico stands in front of them literally shaking with rage, entire body redder than one of Apollo’s sacred cows, trying and failing to string together a threat that will ease any and all of his suffering. Annabeth screeches, almost falling off the bed as she cackles. Percy cannot even find the strength to catch her, his muscles are so weak.
“I fucking — I hate you! Both of you! You’re dead to me!”
“Your face!” Percy shrieks.
“Percy Jackson, I am going to turn you to fucking dark matter! I despise your very essence! I —” He stomps his foot. “I’m leaving, and I’m going to leave a rotting corpse in your cabin! Screw you!”
“Oh my gods,” Annabeth wheezes, digging her nails into his arm. “Oh my gods, that was —”
Percy wipes a tear from his eye. “I love being alive. I love being alive so much.”
“It really is great.” Composing herself, and biting back the leftover giggles that keep bubbling out, Annabeth looks back towards Will. He stands much straighter, now, smile back to full brightness. His siblings, too, look rejuvenated, snickering to each other and making kissy faces behind Will’s back. “So many beautiful things to witness. I’ve never seen his face go that red.”
Percy sighs. “This is genuinely going to carry me through the semester. I think his soul died a little. And Will just — gods, that kid is bold.”
“Oh says you, Mr. Do I Get A Good Luck Kiss.”
“Hey, I earned that.”
Annabeth grins, punching him in the shoulder. He grabs her wrist and tugs her towards him, chasing the curve of her smile. She laughs into his mouth and it taste like strawberries and freedom, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, to her jaw, and the side of her neck, resting there, breathing against her skin. After a moment her hands come up and slide in his hair, gently untangling the knotted mess.
“He is one thousand percent going to put a zombie in your bed, you know,” she says after a moment.
Percy snorts. “Yeah, I know.” He smiles. “Worth it.”
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demigods-posts · 6 months
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i have this weird headcanon of percy and annabeth getting married. they says their vows through sobs, hard for the audience to understand, but they hear each other clear as day. the words tattoo on their skin since they kissed underwater all those years ago. chiron officiates and announce them newly weds. they kiss. percy cries into her shoulder and annabeth holds him amid the crowds tearful applause. sally's awaiting by the door with a pistol in her hands in case a monster wants to try her. it's a beautiful sight really. and i should write this.
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valewritessss · 3 months
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Headcanon that Percy shows Annabeth the Home Alone movie because he thinks she would like the traps and all that but he forgets about the spider scene and it nearly puts Annabeth into a coma
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triptuckers · 9 months
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switching teams - percy jackson
Request: yes! "Hi there! Could I request an enemies to lovers! trope, where the reader is part of the ares halfgods." Pairing:  Percy Jackson x ares!reader Summary:  percy should know better than to try and fight an ares kid Warnings:  a lot of swearing lol, fighting, mentions of blood & injuries Word count:  1.9K A/N: can't wait to see more of dior as clarisse in the show she's such a good actress. thanks for your request, enjoy!
ever since percy got to camp a couple of years ago he's had it out for you. you don't know why, but naturally you decided to respond with the same energy.
he wants to test the ares kid's patience? fine by you.
for some reason he's always arguing with you and you're all to happy to argue back. somehow he knew exactly which buttons to press, how to get on your nerves.
there's always tension between the two of you, which reaches a high during war games like capture the flag. this time is no different.
you're part of team red, following clarisse's lead. percy is on the blue team.
not that it matters, your team is unbeatable. you're proud of your cabin for coming up with the best strategies. you and clarisse always draw up new battle plans, surprising the blue team whenever they think they cracked your plan.
and today you're going to win again. you know it.
you've been walking through your part of the forest, getting rid of any kids of the blue team you run into.
after a while, you think they've all said to each other to avoid certain parts of the wood, given that you don't see anyone for a while.
then you hear talking in the distance. smiling, you grip your sword tighter and creep closer to them.
'let's move, c'mon, these are y/n's parts of the woods.' says one of the kids. you recognise him as someone from the hermes cabin.
'right about that.' you say, jumping over a fallen log and blocking their path.
all three kids widen their eyes and you quickly count their weapons and cabins. two from the hermes cabin and one from athena. a combined total of three swords and a spear. you'll need to take out the athena kid first, they might be able to analyse your fighting style if you're not fast enough.
'I told you!' says one of the hermes kids as you charge them.
you were right, you can tell by the way the athena kid's eyes follow your movements they're trying to analyse your moves. but you catch them off guard and give them a hard shove after kicking one of their legs to the ground.
you make quick work of the hermes kids just in time for your team to run past, carrying the blue flag. you grin at sherman when he runs past with the flag.
'you know what to do!' he says with a wink.
you nod and take off. you're the best sprinter and best swordsman of your cabin.
the plan was simple. once your team got the flag, they would run through your favorite parts of the woods. you would hear them, join them and then run ahead of them, getting rid of any blue team kids in your way and clearing the path for your team.
so that's exactly what you do.
you run to the river, getting rid of any blue team kids you see.
when you see the river in the distance you can't help but to feel a sense of pride. you won again.
but before you can reach the river, something hard knocks you on your back.
before you can get up, someone appears above you, pointing his sword at you and smiling. it's percy. this fucking kid.
you lash out with your sword but percy is quick to block your blow.
'got ya!' he says.
'no you don't.' you say.
he may be pointing a sword at you, but you're not defenceless. with one swift motion, you kick percy's legs, sending him to the ground.
you're quicker, rolling over and pinning his hands to his side. there's no room for him to kick you with his legs.
percy's fighting to get his sword but this time you're stronger. this time, you smile.
'you need to be quicker.' you say. 'and you need to understand we will always win capture the flag.'
'we can still win.' percy argues.
'no, you can't.' you say. 'you're the strongest swordsman on your team. and I've got you pinned to the ground.
'so you admit I'm a stronger swordsman than you!' says percy.
'I said on your team.' you say.
you look up when you hear people cheering in the distance. your team has reached the river, with the blue flag.
'looks like we win again.' you say.
percy looks annoyed. 'get off me, the game is over.'
'say please.'
'fuck off.'
'say please and I'll get up.'
percy rolls his eyes and sighs. 'please, y/n, will you get off me?'
'because you asked nicely.' you say, pushing up off the ground, making sure to accidentally put your weight on percy's legs.
without looking at him again, you take off to celebrate the win with your team.
the next time you're playing capture the flag is three weeks later. you're excited to keep your winning streak going.
just as you've finished putting on your armour and checking all of your weapons, you see percy putting on a chest plate with a red mark on it.
'hey!' you say, getting his attention. 'you're not on our team.'
'yes I am.' he says. 'I already talked it over with clarisse.
'no the fuck you didn't.' you say.
'y/n!'
you look over your shoulder and see clarisse looking at you. she's your best friend, you always train together and she's a great team captain. but this?
'he's on our team.' she says.
'why?'
'because you two are the best swordsmen at camp. it's the logical choice for capture the flag. work together.'
'I will not-'
'not up for discussion. he's on our team, deal with it.'
you turn to percy, walking up to him and giving him a look of pure malice. 'just because you're on our team does not mean I won't hesitate to fight you.' you say.
'no maiming. no killing. especially not your own team members. those are the rules.' says percy.
'I don't care.' you say. 'don't get in my way.'
you hear percy mumble 'fucking ares kids' as you walk away to get into position before the game starts.
as soon as the starting signal sounds, you head to your favorite spot in the woods. there were always some blue kids who thought they could get lucky, but they always run into you.
you're waiting there, your eyes on the path, when you suddenly hear footsteps behind you.
you're just in time to turn around and block the other person's blow.
'you!' you say as you recognise the eyes looking into yours.
'me.' says percy.
'I'm on your fucking team you idiot!'
'I recall you saying it didn't matter.'
'piss off!'
'no.'
percy takes on a fighting stance. he better be fucking kidding. he wants to fight? fine. you can give him that.
'I want to teach you how to become better.' he says.
'at what?'
'sword fighting.'
that's it. it's one thing to attack you from behind. another to tell you he wants to teach you how to be better.
percy knows it's bad fucking luck to claim he's better at fighting than an ares kid. but you've got a tell, and it will get you killed some day.
'you have a tell. let me teach you how to avoid it.'
the nerve he has.
with two quick strides you're in front of him, bringing your sword down on him with all of your strength.
percy blocks it, but his arms are straining underneath the weight of your blow. you really are good.
he swings his sword to your left side but you jump aside and aim the next blow at his legs. he jumps over your sword and kicks you out of the way.
you spin around and attempt to drive your sword through the exposed part of his arm. percy gets out of the way, but only barely.
'you're using your father's strength to guide you.' he says, grunting in between blows of your swords hitting each other.
you don't respond, choosing to save your strength and focus on trying to hit him.
'you're faster than me. you could win.' he says.
fuck him. you are going to win. how dare he question you like this? how dare he question your fighting skills?
you take a step forward, ready to end this fight. but percy kicks your leg out of the way and pushes you, sending you backward.
'you step before you strike.' says percy. 'with your right foot.'
what the fuck?
'I have to give it to you, it took me a while to realise it.'
'been watching me, have you?'
you start to circle him, looking for an opening to strike.
'yes. now start avoiding the step before you strike.'
'I don't need a poseidon kid to teach me how to fight. you're doing this to distract me.'
'is it so hard to believe I actually want to help you? clarisse is right, we'd make a good team. you're almost as good as I am.'
'I can never be a team with someone who insults me to my face.'
'right. never claim to be a better fighter than an ares kid. noted.'
you race forward and strike percy, hoping he doesn't expect it.
he does. he easily blocks your attack.
you're furious. no one is better than you. certainly not percy.
you let your rage take over, going in for another attack, subconsciously taking one step before striking. percy kicks your foot.
you're breathing heavily. he wants to teach you? fine. you keep your footing in place as you strike, catching him off guard.
percy is too surprised and is too late to block your blow. you slice through his upper arm. it's not a very deep cut but it still bleeds. you smile as you see the blood start to slowly trickle down his arm.
you strike again, but only nearly hitting him. you can teach him as well. for instance, his weak point is his legs. you sweep them out from under him. percy falls to the ground as you point your sword to him.
'you're beaten.' you say.
'and you listened to me.' he says.
you hate to admit it, but he did have a point. once you focused on not taking a step before striking, you were able to beat him.
you reach out with your other hand.
percy is eyeing your hand suspiciously.
'I'm pulling you up.' you say. 'the fight is over. I won. I'm not striking an unarmed, beaten opponent.'
percy takes your hand and allows you to pull him to his feet.
'thought you didn't like me.' he says.
'I never said that. you annoy me. but ares kids respect good fighters. you're a good swordsman. and you were right. I have a tell.' you say.
'did you just admit to liking me?' says percy, smiling.
'I also said you're annoying.'
'but you like me.'
'doesn't make you less annoying. now come on, we have a flag to capture.'
the two of you take off to rejoin your team. during the fight, something had changed between the two of you. if percy could point out a flaw you didn't know you had, you're curious to see what else he knows about you that you don't know about yourself.
maybe it's a good thing he convinced clarisse to let him join your team.
A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max
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neo-kid-funk · 4 months
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A scene from and if I stare at you, baby, will you stare right back? Written by the most amazing @rafyki
Note: FYKI this one for you!!! Your writing is sosososo good and this fic literally made my brain fuzzy so thank you thank you for being awesome!!! Hope you like it 🥹💖
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gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
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𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉 𝒷ℴ𝓎
IM BACK FOR LUKE BITCHES
Masterlist
SMUT. 18+, mdni ! friends with benefits
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“Ugh, what is up with you and him?” One of your sisters asked, suddenly coming up to you after Luke had left your side.
“Luke?” You questioned, glancing back at him walking away.
“Uh, yeah! You both are always together, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re fucking him.”
She didn’t know the half of it.
“What? He’s just a… sweet boy.”
She didn’t know about the times you sneaked off with him during activity nights, or bonfire nights where everyone else was out of their cabins.
You two always disappeared together, giggling as you made out pressed against a tree, his hands roaming under your shirt, his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight.
She didn’t know about when you both skinny dipped in the lake, as he held you in the water, both of your naked bodies pressed together.
And she sure as hell didn’t know about the night where he thrusted into you until the mattress broke, one hand on you and the other on the wall. He looked down at you, listening intently to every little noise that came out of your mouth.
Or about those nights where you listened to his breathy little moans, kissing his neck, leaving hickeys that you had to apply makeup over every time you made them, jerking him off underneath the cover.
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ginnyluna · 3 months
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This short Valgrace fic by @reddamselette gave me so many emotions in barely three paragraphs i was a mess. also, i tried to draw the ending i really did, but it was never good enough to match the writing, i guess you guys will just have to go read it
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thefreakingbear · 2 months
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luke “where my hug at” castellan
luke ‘the manspreader’ castellan
luke ‘holding your things above your head so you have to jump to reach them’ castellan
luke ‘the super senior’ castellan
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percyluvr · 7 months
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helloooooo!!!! can i request a percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader headcanons?? it would be pretty interesting to see hera having a child tbh
thank you if you do 💛
percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader summary: hcs for percy with a daughter of hera
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when he first met you he was kinda worried bc he has beef with hera
but he's also confused bc wasn't she not supposed to have kids??
he expected you to be just like your mom
and you lowkey were
but you were a bit less.. uptight
but at the same time, u cant really blame her, her husband literally cheats on her so much
BUT ANYWAYS
i think u'd be so caring to him and he would love it SO MUCH
since hera is the goddess of marriage and childbirth, u would lowk take care of him like hes ur son
but like not in a weird way
u just care ab him so much that u baby him all the time
since both of ur cabins are always empty except for each other, u have sleepovers all the time
u have a pretty close relationship w ur mom, esp because ur her only demigod kid
percy isnt really jealous per say, bc he's decently close w poseidon, but like
he wishes he was that close with him
hera visits u in ur dreams a LOT bc she just loves u a lot
zeus is mad but she dgaf cuz ur her only daughter
and only kid
so obviously she's protective
esp when u tell her that u and percy r dating
shes at camp the next day asking u to introduce her to him
which ur like "mom pls y'all have already met"
and shes like "yes, but never when he was ur bf"
so u just go along w it bc u love her
they're lowk beefing bc she doesnt want u to get hurt
but as time goes on she realizes how much percy loves u and cares abt u
and she thinks ur the cutest couple ever
she is ready for yall to get married bc shes gonna throw the most extravagant and perfect wedding
and shes so excited esp bc ur the only kid she's going to be able to do this for
have i mentioned that she loves u a lot?
ANYWAYS
yk how in like house of hades and i think chalice of the gods when percy looks at annabeth and is js like "i cant wait to marry her and have kids"
yeah, hes like that but 300000x
and he's so excited bc he knows that ur gonna be SUCH a good mom
people always think ur weak bc ur mom "lets herself get cheated on"
or whatever dumbass shit they be saying
but u prove them wrong
mothers r fr the most powerful people in the UNIVERSE
and ur basically a mother bc u take care of everyone at camp
ur always at the infirmary helping the apollo kids bc its just in ur nature to love taking care of people
and percy always comes in with even the smallest little injuries
and it just warms ur heart to know that he wants to come see u even when ur working
u take care of the little baby pegasi too omg
gn thats so cute
imagine if blackjack had a lil baby pegasi and u took care of it
and percy is just like
melting
ur so sweet to them even if theyre "just horses"
it makes him so excited to have kids w u
whenever u see a little kid
or like a younger camper
u always tell him that u cant wait to go to new rome uni and then get married and have kids w him
the two of u are just so excited for the future with each other fr
i just think the two of u would be taking care of the pegasi and u would fall asleep in the hay after staying up talking
big surprise for the kids that have riding lessons that morning...
yall werent embarrassed tho cuz u have no shame fr
well, u have shame
percy has none
not the point.
everyone at camp sorta sees u as a mother and they always come to u
lowk camp therapist
bc they NEED one real bad
but it doesnt bother u bc u love to help them
ur always trying to fix problems at camp
and its very upsetting for you when you cant, and percy is always there to comfort u
ur lowk a meddler like ur mom
but its okay bc ur just worried about ur friends
i think that u would maybe have some soothing powers kinda like a hypnos kid, where u can like calm people down or put them to sleep
i also think that percy would suffer from panic attacks after his nightmares
so after he has a nightmare, you're there and if you can't soothe him with your words you just use ur powers
u can't stand to see him like that
it just upsets you so much
percy is so grateful for ur powers, but hes even more grateful for you
i think ur a lot more relaxed than most people at camp
and u dont really see the point in doing dangerous things for fun
which is different for percy, but he really does like it
he likes that he can just go to you and ask to relax and ur always down for that
its a change of pace that is definitely welcome and necessary in his life
ur definitely more of a rational thinker than him, so u stop him from doing some pretty stupid things
but u would never stop him from having fun
or doing thing that are important to him
ur relationship is lowk the blue print
yall just take care of each other fr
and ur like an old married couple which u two get teased ab
but u dont care
cuz u cant wait to get married lol!
a/n: this was a vv interesting request to write and i honestly loved imagining what a child of hera would be like so thank u for the req!
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poppitron360 · 2 months
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Hi guys the world is a fucked up place but don’t think about that think about Jason getting Reyna to teach him Spanish so that he can propose to Leo in his own language.
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johnconstantinesdick · 7 months
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I get the criticism of the Hunters of Artemis from a narrative perspective—it sucks that it essentially boots interesting female characters out of the story—but it always baffles me when people viciously hate Artemis for *checks notes* doing damage control.
Like. Thalia explicitly goes with Artemis to avoid the prophecy, and I definitely think that’s the reason Artemis tried so hard to get her to join—hell, you can view the hunters trying to recruit Annabeth as a way to get Thalia to join. And Bianca? You can’t convince me that Artemis didn’t guess there was something up there and react accordingly.
If Percy or Nico were even a little bit girl-adjacent you bet your ass she would be all over them to join. No one actually wants to risk the Great Prophecy happening, and Artemis is doing a hell of a lot more to stop it than anyone else.
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mediumgayitalian · 5 months
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“What are your parameters for loving me?”
Careful to keep her head locked forward, Naomi glances over at her son. Will’s picked-bloody fingernails scrabble at the worn bandage around his wrist, twisting until his knuckles turn white. The car shakes with his violently bouncing leg, out of time with the shuddering engine and rumbling dust roads under the wheels.
“There aren’t any.”
“There have to be — some.” The bandage is longer than she thought, unspooled in his lap. He winds it back up again quickly, hands blurring; darting around his wrist, tapping on his knees, flexing and locking, flexing and locking. “I mean, what if I became a misogynist?”
She snorts. “I think you’re good, honey.”
“No, Mom, what if? Think about it for real. You’d stop loving me, right?”
“I might knock you around a bit, but it’d pretty hard to stop loving you completely,” she teases. She pinches the stubbornly-clinging baby fat of his cheeks between her knuckles, ruffling his hair when he ducks away.
“Seriously, Mama.”
“I dunno, Will. I’d send you to work for your Auntie Di for a while, probably. Reckon she’d straighten you out good.”
“Okay.” He nods, twice to himself, chewing on his lip. The bandage is wrapped around his elbow, now, pulled tight enough that she can hear the groan of his joints. “Okay. What if I killed someone?”
“Be a pretty hefty secret for the two of us.”
“An innocent person. Cold blood, just because I wanted to.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I could, Mom. People are — unpredictable.” He picks at a hole in his shorts until it’s wide enough to slide three fingers through, pulling the bandage in after them. It looks yellowed next to the green of the fabric, worn. “Sometimes you think you know someone but you don’t.”
“I know you.”
She pushes on her turn signal, slowing to a near stop. Will’s twitching fingers unconsciously synch up, cri-tap, cri-tap, cri-tap. The rusted rims groan as her tires amble around the bend, quieting as she lurches forward. They both duck as she hits a pothole, narrowly avoiding the warped ceiling.
“Cold blood, Mama.”
“I’d — it would scare me, I guess.” The next few potholes are smaller — she can avoid them with some manoeuvring. A mouse darts out onto the road, rushing out from the surrounding cornfields, and she slams on the break, thrusting her arm out to the passenger side. Will’s hands come to cup over her forearm as he slams into it, grunting softly. The mouse sprints across the rest of the road, tail swishing behind it, disappearing into the stalks. She settles back into her seat, brushing across Will’s seatbelt as she does, and presses the gas again. “More for you than of you. For what would happen if someone came knocking.”
“You wouldn’t report it?”
“No I wouldn’t report it, Will, Jesus.”
“But I — but I did something evil.”
“This is a hypothetical, baby.”
“And in the hypothetical. You’re —” He scrubs his hand down his face, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re a good person. You have — morals.”
“I’m a person, Will.” The GPS beeps at her — twenty-five miles to the Tennessee border. “And I’m a mother before that.”
“So if I — you would just — just like that? You’d — forgive me?”
“I’d love you,” she corrects.
“But you wouldn’t forgive me.”
She shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”
“So how do you know you’d still love me?”
“Because there’s nothing you could do, baby. I mean it.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Not even if I was a bully? Or a landlord? Or if I — liked boys?”
He says it quickly, or tries to, but he stumbles over his words, tripping over the syllables. Naomi sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it hard.
“You would still love me, if I — if I —”
Keeping her movements steady, she removes her boot from the gas. Will glances, fast, at her tightening knuckles on the steering wheel, looking quickly away. She guides the car to the shoulder of the road, pulling into park, and kills the engine, unclipping her seatbelt and turning ninety degrees to face her son. Will crowds into the corner of the seat, hunching in on himself, shoulders tense and curling, hair failing over her lowered head.
“Oh, Will.”
His body shakes as she pulls him into her, hands trembling so bad they spasm, twitching out of the fists he makes. She shifts until both of her arms wrap tightly around her torso, ignoring the burn of the trench, tucking his forehead into her collarbone, dropping her lips to press against his temples, his cheeks, the crown of his head.
“It’s okay, baby.”
“It’s — not. I’m still, I can still —”
“Sh.” His tears drip onto her shirt, her skin. He chokes back a sob and she tightens, reflexively, pulling his whole body even closer to her, somehow, making space for his too-long legs, knees hitting his chest, feet dangling off the seat, gearshift shoved into his thigh. His chest heaves with the effort of keeping his cries locked up in his throat, hidden behind clenched teeth, squeezed shut eyes. His fingers cling onto her shirt, twisting the fabric so hard it warps. Her own fingers clutch desperately at the ridges of his spine, the inside of his elbow; squeezing, holding, bruising. His voice is rough as raw grit and reedy as pond scum, barely above a whisper.
“I like boys, Mama.”
“I heard you.” She rests her forehead on his shoulder, her own breaths shuddering. “I heard you, sweetheart.”
“I like — a boy.”
“Okay.”
“For a long time.”
Her swallow constricts her throat, shoving the air back in her lungs. How long, she cannot bring herself to ask — when was it, exactly, that he decided he could not trust her with this? When did she lose that privilege? Was it when he started protecting her from the pain in his life, or before? When he lost everyone close to him at once, or when he broke down and told her about it? When was she no longer the person he ran to when he was scared, nervous, afraid?
He used to come to her for everything.
“I love you,” she whispers, voice wet as it slides against the lump in her throat. She squeezes him again, and this time, he squeezes back, pressing his face into her skin. “Will Solace, you are what keeps me going, do you understand that? Come up here, baby, look at me.”
His eyes aren’t hers. He takes after his father, really; after his older brother once upon a time. But he speaks like she does and smiles like she does and stands like she does, and when he cries he gets that same look, like the ocean has emptied itself inside of him. She cradles both palms to his wet cheeks, thumbs pressing under his eyes, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.
“Fifteen years long you’ve been the light of my life. I need you to understand that, Will. I have never loved anything like I love you and there will never be anyone who comes even close. There is no hypothetical, no situation, no anything that could change that. There are no parameters. None. You understand me?”
“Everything stops,” he croaks. “Everything has a limit.”
“Not me,” she says firmly. “You ain’t a baby no more, baby, but you’re gonna have to pretend for a moment that I know everything again. I am telling you that there is no boundary. And I am not giving you the option to disagree. You are my son and my sun and that’s final, Will. That’s final.”
His face crumples. She pulls him close again, sighing, letting him curl up in his lap like he’s ten years younger than he should be, instead of the ten years older he acts. She runs a hand through his knotted hair and another down his back and presses her lips to his temples, holding him every place she can reach, and rocks them, even though there’s no room to do it, humming slow and low under her breath.
“We’ll get there,” she promises, tapping a beat on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Okay?”
He nods into her neck. “Okay.” His voice is small but not cowering, thankfully; small like he’s hiding in her instead of from her. She fights the urge to sag into him, to burst into tears of her own.
“I love you, Will. No matter what and forever.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
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