#naomi solace i love you

[mediumgayitalian]

She almost runs over her guitar on her way in the driveway.

For a second, the image is so obscene that she laughs. She’d gotten her hands on a permanent marker, when she was three, scrawled her name across the body with careful hands a tongue stuck out of her mouth in concentration. The N is backwards, and she’d creatively used the soundhole as the O. Hollered for Daddy to come look, to come ruffle her hair and swing her over his shoulders for a job well done.

He’d come to look, alright.

“Well, Helen,” he’d said to his wife, scrubbing a hand over his neck, “damn thing’s hers, now, I suppose.”

He’d always warned her to be careful with it. Scolded her for every sticker she’d slapped on the neck, every painted doodle on the face. Picked it up when she left it sprawled on the couch, placing it gently on the stand. Careful as he was with all her things, with her.

It’s strings-down on the pavement, now, half-crushed under the weight of her patched pink backpack. She takes a half step forward, chipped paint of her purple toenails scratching against the wood of the guitar. She crouches down and touches it, softly, wincing at the twang of the twisted strings.

“What…”

A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks up just in time to catch the pale blue curtains swish quickly shut over the bow windows, to see the lights flick off.

Mouth dry, she touches her stomach. The swell is barely there — barely noticeable. Barely far along enough to feel the kick.

She wants to scream. She wants to run up to the door and bang on it ‘til Mama swings it open, wants to collapse to her knees and sob and beg for their forgiveness. Wants to tell them about how scared she’s been for months. Wants Mama to grip her hand in her calloused ones, sit her at the kitchen table and get her the exact type of tea that’ll settle her stomach and soothe her heartburn. Wants Daddy to smooth back her hair and press a kiss to the crown of her forehead, squeezing the curve of her shoulder. Wants Wally the cat to hop up onto her lap, mrrping and bumping his head into her sternum.

Instead, she swallows. She swings her backpack over her shoulders, picks her guitar gently off the cracked driveway, and walks straight-backed to her car. The key sticks in the lock, as it always does, and in her increasingly desperate attempts to force it open she twists the damn thing, and the key is sad and thin and bent when she yanks it out and she cries, almost, the tears build and build and build in her eyes, util suddenly she grits her teeth and decides that she will not. She shoves the key back in the lock and twists the other way, bending it back into shape, wrenching open the door and throwing her backpack in, relishing in the thunk as it hits the passenger door. With her guitar she’s gentler, barely, setting it neatly along the backseats and wrenching her hand back as hard as she can to make up for it.

She sits in the drivers seat so hard the whole car shakes. The steering wheel is warm, still, from the heat of her palms on the drive here from Molly’s house, because she’s been overheated lately. For the last four months, to be exact. Overheated and cranky and nauseous and heavy.

“Well,” she whispers, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She wraps her arms around her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut, biting her tongue as hard as she can. “It’s you and me and sheer fucking will, I guess, kid.”

She rifles through her CDs until she comes across a case with a wood-pattern print and a man with a revolver lounging across it. She pulls out the scratched disc and feeds it carefully into the player, waiting for the deep baritone to rumble through her shit plastic speakers, and listens to the first bar, the second, the third.

But this is for real, so forget about me. Eight more minutes to go.

The light doesn’t come back on. The curtains don’t flick. Her Daddy doesn’t come runnin’ out the door, screaming for her to wait. Mama doesn’t follow out calmly after him. All there is is shadow, shadow, shadow, and the shape her guitar made upside down on the pavement.

She backs out of the driveway where she tripped and fell and lost her first tooth, and drives, and drives, and drives.

———

When she was little, her uncle took her to go see Alien.

He shouldn’t have. It was far too old a movie for a kid her age, and the clerk had told him so. But Noah Solace had a penchant for being stubborn and a chip in his shoulder, so he’d taken her anyway. He should have left when the alien leapt from its nest and definitely when one of the freaky little parasites burst from the guy’s chest, but he didn’t, and Naomi had watched frozen completely in her seat, palms sweating, spine rigid, squirming at the thought of something growing inside her. Of being betrayed by something that lived in the deepest recesses of her body.

The day after she leaves home, she taps her chewed-up fingernail on the sides of the wall-phone by a rest stop. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. The Bell logo is covered partially by someone’s tag, by a curved C and bubble O B A L T. Ironically, the worn Sharpie ink is purple.

617 343 7844. She knows the number by heart. She knows the song of dialling it like she knows Jolene. Bah-duh-duh bah-duhduh duh-bah-duhduh. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three, four. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She sucks her lip into her teeth. Training her eyes on the purple COBALT tag, the obstructed Bell, the rainbow of wads of gum balled up in the corners, she presses the right buttons. Bahduhduh-bahduhduh-duhbahduhduh. Ring. Ring.

What is she doing. What is she doing.

Ring. Ring.

Naomi isn’t one for planning. She’s absent-minded, she knows she is. Flighty and distracted. Head in the clouds, never one to study. A coaster. A drifter. A real one, now.

Ring. Ring.

Hey, Uncle Noah. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I keep forgetting to respond to your letters. How am I? I’m great! I slept with a god and now I’m nineteen and knocked up and homeless, to boot. Wanna come pick me up?

Ring. Ring.

God, what is she doing. What is she doing.

Ring. Ring. Ri—

“Fuck d’you want?”

Low baritone. Gravelly. Rough, slurring. Sleepy?

“Hello? Can you hear me? Who’s this?”

Hey, Uncle Noah. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I keep forgetting to —

“Is this one’a them fuckin’ tele — fuck they called — tele…tele…”

— respond to your letters, great, nineteen knocked up —

“Tele…grams? Telefuckin…telemarketers! You one’a them fuckin’ telemarketers?”

— pick me up pick me up pick me up please —

“Swear t’a fuckin’ Jesus — I told you sons of bitches —”

— parasite —

“Ah, fuck you. You call here again I’mma fuckin’ —”

Click.

Riiiiiiinnnnnng.

She stares at her own finger on the receiver, white and bloodless. Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

You have disconnected. To reconnect your call, please —

She flings the phone from her hands, against the receiver, against the box, clink, clatter, bounce, tap tap tap tap tap tap against the pavement. Tap. Scritch. Tap tap tap. And flees to her car.

———

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

She blinks back at the yellow little fuel light, humming along to the stereo. She can push it for a while longer, probably. Maybe even to the district line.

What happens if she just drives? If she drives and drives and doesn’t stop. Lets the little light blinkblinkblink at her, keepin’ time with Reba McEntire and her dying husband. That’s the night when the lights went out in Georgia.

She’d have time to pull over, probably. Coast on the speed she was going, cut across to the gravel shoulder. There’s no one else around, anyway. She could recline her seat and cross her arms over her chest and watch the clouds through the dusty top of her windshield. Sleep through the night and wake with the mourning doves’ cooing. Then what? That’s the night that they hung an innocent man.

Walk, probably. On the side of the highway, along the stretch of dying grass and reedy weeds. Guitar on her back and backpack tucked under her arm, strolling under the balmy March sun and sing to the cawing crows, to the rushing cars. Well, don’t sell your soul to no backwoods Southern lawyer.

Someone’d pull up next to her, probably. A trucker or a group of hippies. Headed to Oregon, they might say, round glasses covering bloodshot red eyes. Need a ride? ‘Cause the judge in the town’s got bloodstains on his hands.

And she would need a ride. She’d sing for them, maybe. Pluck along to Hey Jude on her out-of-tune guitar and holler with the wind rushing in from the old broken windows. They’d know someone in Cali, of course they would, slip her their card. He’s a manager, he’s looking for some new talent. You’re just what he needs. Well, they hung my brother before I could say.

Right. A knocked-up nobody who’s paying for gas with her last few bills and the four quarters she found in a sticky mess of juice in her cup holder. She’ll go platinum, right up there with the Stones and the Roses. Naomi Solace, part-time mom, full-time country star. The tracks he saw while on his way.

She drifts off the exit to the first gas station she sees. The blink, blink, blink of the light irritates her, now.

The highway town she drifts through looks like a carbon copy of the dozens of others she’s been to in her life. The giant grey rest stop, the 24 hour McDonalds, the three separate Mattress Firms. She skips over the Buccees — the stupid mascot gives her the creeps — and pulls into the first gas station she sees. Dollar twenty a gallon. Jesus.

There’s an old man at the pump across from her. He stares as he pumps his gas. Nausea builds in her stomach, but whether that’s the gross factor or the avocado-sized mass growing inside her, but she doesn’t stick around long enough to find out. She sprints for the little convenience store at top speeds, shoving open the door and ignoring the startled cashier and stumbling into the little bathroom in the back, barely making it to the stained toilets before emptying the contents of her stomach. She can see the half-digested junior bacon cheeseburger she had for lunch. It makes her throw up more. It also makes her mourn the eighty-nine cents she spent on it. Fuck.

She walks back into the convenience store grimacing at the taste of her own mouth. Nobody tells you that mouthwash and water bottles account for approximately eight billion dollars of your pregnancy cost. Of course, Naomi has never asked, but that should be a bigger part of the condom ads.

Or abstinence ads. She’s not sure how helpful a piece of rubber is against godly sperm. Mary seemed to struggle with the ordeal. Godspeed to her — she gets why the Catholics are so bananas for her now. This shit is hard and she handled it like a champ. Good on you, Mother Mary.

“Just these?” the cashier asks hesitantly, poking at the travel mouthwash, the water bottles, the singular packaged pickle, and the tiny jar of strawberry jam. And the plastic spoon she grabs from the hot table.

“And pump number 5. Please.”

“…Twenty-three sixty.”

Gas and water and a snack.

Twenty five dollars.

She has to count out her coins, hyperaware if the cashier’s dirty look. She bites back a comment about how frustrating it must be for them to have to do their job when it’s so busy out, what with one customer. Shame. Because she’s used up her irresponsibility quota for the next few years, she reckons, so she oughtta bite her tongue.

Half her fortune poorer, she walks back out to her car. The gas nozzle is still sticking out if it. She puts it back while holding her breath — do gas fumes kill growing babies? They probably kill growing babies — and shoves open her trunk, digging around. Blanket — no. Forgotten impulse purchases from months ago — no. Umbrella — no. Grad cap — no, and also why.

Finally, she finds what she’s looking for. She climbs onto the hood of the car, digging into her jam pickle, and flips open the paper atlas, turning the many pages until the map of Texas stares out at her, huge and overwhelming.

Twenty-six dollars and forty-nine cents. That’s what she has left. ‘Round twenty bucks for a full tank — that’s what she has left. 400 miles on a full tank. Seven or so hours until she’s out of the state.

“I could leave,” she says aloud.

And go where? New Mexico? Barely. She’s nowhere near LA, she’s nowhere near New York; hell, she’s nowhere near Austin. She’s nowhere near anything. Not even the nearest Amtrak station. She could drive until she runs out of gas, leave her car on the side of the road, and walk — to where? To the desert? To some serial killer’s basement?

To fucking find Apollo again?

“This is ridiculous.”

Slamming the atlas closed, she stomps back into the convenience store.

“There a secondhand store near here?” she demands.

The cashier regards her for a moment. Taking her in, probably, her ratty jeans that she can’t button anymore, her stained pink sweater, the greasy mess of her hair. The jam sticking to the corner of her mouth and the sliver of stomach pushing over the waistband of her pants. Her peeling flip-flops.

“Not here,” they say finally. “Highway town, ma’am. Ain’t got shit but what you can see from the road. You wanna real store, you gotta head ten miles east to Blowshow.”

“There’s a town called Blowshow?” she asks incredulously.

“There’s a town called Sheffield,” replies the cashier, mouth twitching, “which no one calls Joansburg, on account that the mayor was caught with his secretary gumming his green bean behind his desk by the film crew of the local news station coming to talk about a recent policy change. It’s got a main road and a general store, and will most definitely have a secondhand store.”

Naomi nods, rocking back on her heels. “Anybody hirin’?”

“Well, I ain’t been to Blowshow since last Sunday. And even then only to come see my sister. I wasn’t lookin’ at help wanted signs.”

“There’s gotta be somethin’.”

The cashier hums. The busy themself with a stack of cigarette boxes behind the counter, fiddling with a strip of cardboard come loose.

“There’s a diner,” they admit. “Di’s. Worst turnover rate than any place I ever been to.” The glance over at her, eyebrows raised. “Frankly, you won’t last a quarter year.”

Instead of sneering something about bowing out quickly and how they must know lots about finishing early, because that’s gross and also uncalled for, Naomi simply walks out. She gets in her car and starts the engine and turns the radio to thirty, making the warbling over the speakers so warped she might as well be listening to static, and guns it east. Or what she’s pretty sure is east, anyway. It’s fifteen minutes the empty pothole roads give way to something that looks like it’s seen a person in the last forty years. A little house sits nestled in the trees, bikes strewn about the driveway. A few hundred yards down road is a jogger that she gives a wide berth. In minutes, she’s pulling into a proper town — a tiny town, with more trees than people, but a real town with a real purpose. She slows to a crawl, eyeing hand-painted banners and peeling signs until she finds what she’s looking for.

The secondhand shop is small, clustered, and smells like mothballs. A shelf of broken old toys blocks her view of the rest of it and any people that may live inside of it, so she steps aside it, stepping carefully around chipped tile and stacked up boxes, looking for the right section. (The right shelf, really; nothing in this store is big enough to be a section.)

She finds what she’s looking for in a dusty old corner near the very back. Behind a broken typewriter and an ancient fax machine, and more random wires and cables than she can count, is a little portable cassette player. A pair of wiry headphones are wound around the hunk of black plastic, foam ear muffs cracked and peeling, and the worn label on the side reads Isobel. She grabs the clunky old machine carefully, brushing the pads of her fingers over the peeling paper label, and holds it to her chest.

At home she has a proper CD Walkman. It’s pink and pretty and covered all over in shiny foil stickers, and it’s chipped on the side from when she dropped it down the stairs. It skips every sixth song of an album without fail and she has to skip three backwards and two forwards to hear it. She has a collection of CDs to go with it longer than her longest shelf, and they’re arranged by colour and favour.

On another shelf, she finds a series of chipped cassette tapes. She flicks through the selection, frowning, trying to restructure hopes that were set too high and read labels written thirty years ago.

“I’ve got an extra box of them by the counter,” says a voice, making her yelp.

“Christ alive, you could kill somebody,” she snaps.

The man shrugs. He wears the loudest shirt she has ever seen and cutoff shorts that are way too short for someone his age. There are streaks of blue in his white hair, and four sweatbands on his left wrist. Green purple grey yellow. One, two, three, four.

“I’ll take a look.”

She spends another ten minutes in silence. The box, at least, has a little more variety than the shelf, so she picks out what’s worth it. She ends up with a stack the size of her arm.

“I have ten dollars,” she lies, Mama’s lecture about showing your cards ringing in her head. “That cover it?”

“Beautifully,” says the man, shiny gold-tooth smile. His bug-eye spectacles gleam in the yellow light. He holds out his hand. “Ten bucks for the player and tapes.”

Looking him right in the eye, she hands him her last twenty-dollar bill. He glares, when he sees it, muttering something about liars and thieves. Strangely, he looks at her with a little bit of respect when he slams her change down onto the counter.

She walks back out to her car, unwinding the headphones as she does. She’s half-worried the ancient things will disintegrate in her hands, but they manage to stay whole, if a little warped. She slides in behind the wheel and pushes back the seat, settling against the itchy carpet upholstery. With a quick glance out the window to make sure there are no creeps, she pulls up her shirt, bunching it up around her ribs, and lowers the waistband of her jeans. She eyes her belly critically.

There’s definitely a bump. Not much she couldn’t explain away with a particularly filling lunch, but it’s hard and there and constantly kicking at her from inside. Slowly, feeling foolish all the while, she stretches out the headphones until both halves rest on either side of her stomach. She picks out one of the tapes, slides it in the player, and clears her throat.

“Listen, kid,” she says, trying to sound less embarrassed than she feels, “I don’t want some lame baby who doesn’t know that Tina Turner was country first, okay? That’s a — waste of my time.” She clears her throat, hovering over the play button. “I better get some engagement.”

The twangy guitar is loud enough that she can hear it through the headphones. Or maybe they’re just that bad. Either way, Alien Parasite should be able to hear it just fine, amniotic fluid be damned.

“‘Means your true love daddy ain’t comin’ back,” she sings along. She closes her eyes and relaxes against the recliner seat, bare skin tingling. “‘Cause I’m movin’ on, I’ll soon be gone. Mhm, hm hm. So I’m movin’ on.’”

At the crest of the bridge, as the guitar speeds up and beats get harder, there’s a point of pressure right above her navel. Another, a few seconds later, at her pelvis. A third right below her ribs.

“Acrobatic little freak,” she mumbles fondly, smiling at her stretched taught skin.

She adjusts the headphones, adjusts herself, and turns the music up louder.

———

next

[iwannascreameurekaa]

the urge to write an Angsty trans will fic about his mom not accepting him and titling it Pink Pony Club 😞😞😞

[puppybong]

thinking about will and his mama tonight

[frozenrose20]

Will Solace always says he's a bad singer but at the same time his father is the god of music and Naomi is a professional singer. I absolutely refuse to believe he can't sing. My personal headcanon is that he's actually a great singer.when he sang to open the doors of Orpheus flowers grew so my headcanon/theory is at when he was super young he started singing one time and it was so beautiful that it brought his mother to tears. Our lovely idiot. With low self esteem issues simply saw the tears and thought 'Oh my gosh I sing so bad my mother is crying' and he simply swore off singing ever since. if he has to sing for healing purposes he sings super quietly so no one hears him. if you do end up hearing him you'll just be absolutely blown away and brought to tears.

[anniebeemine]

It Takes A Village- Part One

Girl Dad!Spencer, they chant with fists in the air.

Summary: Spencer Reid had given up on finding love and having a family. His life is turned upside down when Naomi appears.

Age: 0-4

The fluorescent lights of the BAU flickered softly, casting a familiar, sterile glow over the desks as Spencer Reid made his way into the bullpen. The day had been long, the case grueling, and all he wanted was to drop off his paperwork, head home, and maybe find solace in a good book. His mind was already wandering toward the stacks of unread novels in his apartment when something unusual caught his eye.

A baby carrier.

It was perched right on his desk, nestled among his neatly stacked files and the coffee cup he’d left behind that morning. Spencer frowned, confusion knitting his brow. The sight was so out of place that Spencer's tired brain struggled to make sense of it. The BAU wasn’t a place where one typically found baby carriers, and certainly not on his desk. He glanced around, expecting to see one of his colleagues hovering nearby, but the room was nearly empty, save for a few agents buried in their own work.

He hesitated, his eyes darting back to the carrier. Maybe someone had left it there by mistake? As he approached, he noticed something else—a small, pink bundle inside the carrier, shifting slightly. His breath caught in his throat. There was a baby in there.

His first instinct was to look for a note, something that would explain why a baby was on his desk. But there was nothing in sight, just the carrier and the tiny life nestled inside it. A wave of panic surged through him, his mind racing through possibilities. He had no idea who this child was or why she was there. Was it a joke? A mistake?

His hands trembled slightly as he reached out, pulling back the soft blanket to reveal a tiny face, delicate and serene in sleep. The baby—she couldn’t have been more than a few months old—had dark curls that reminded him of someone, though he couldn’t place who just yet.

As the initial shock wore off, Spencer’s gaze fell on a folded piece of paper, partially hidden beneath one of his files. He snatched it up, unfolding it quickly. The handwriting was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. His heart thudded in his chest as he began to read.

Spencer,

I know this is probably the last thing you expected to find on your desk today. The last thing you’d ever expect from me. But I didn’t know where else to turn. This is Naomi. She’s your daughter.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want to complicate your life, especially with the kind of work you do. But I can’t take care of her anymore, and she deserves a chance at a good life with a parent who can provide for her. I’m leaving her with you because I know you’ll give her that. Please don’t try to find me. I can’t be part of her life—or yours—anymore.

I’m sorry, Spencer. I hope you can forgive me one day.

The letter ended there, signed simply with the name of an old fling—someone Spencer had barely thought of in months. He sank into his chair, the letter clutched in his hands as the reality of the situation began to sink in. This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t someone else’s child. Naomi was his daughter.

Spencer's hands shook as he gently set the letter aside and scanned his desk. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and concern, trying to process the shocking revelation that Naomi was his daughter. The small, pink bundle in the carrier shifted slightly, a soft, comforting sound from the baby breaking through the fog of his thoughts.

As he tried to steady himself, his eyes fell on a manila folder that had been tucked inside a binder, partially hidden behind a stack of case files. With a sense of urgency, he pulled the folder free and opened it, hoping for more information that might help him understand what to do next.

The folder was surprisingly organized. Inside, there were several neatly arranged documents. Spencer's heart raced as he flipped through them, each page providing a window into Naomi’s short life. The first section was a detailed medical history: her birth date, weight, and height, followed by her immunization records and a note about her recent check-up.

One particular page caught his eye—a list of formula brands with notes on her reactions. Some formulas had caused gas and discomfort, while others seemed to be well-tolerated. A section marked "Allergies" revealed a startling detail: Naomi was allergic to the same medication that he was. Spencer’s breath hitched; it was an eerie coincidence, but it also made him feel a strange sense of connection.

The next few pages included a list of essential baby supplies and instructions for her care, along with tips for calming her when she was fussy. There were notes on her sleeping patterns, preferences for certain types of lullabies, and even a small section detailing how to manage colic—a challenge he was unfamiliar with but was now keenly aware of.

Spencer was overwhelmed, but the structure of the folder gave him a small sense of control. It was clear that whoever had left this for him had done so with great care, ensuring that he had everything he needed to provide for Naomi.

Panic clawed at his chest. What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t prepared for this—didn’t know the first thing about being a father. The thought of trying to raise a child, especially on his own, was terrifying. And yet, as he looked down at Naomi’s peaceful face, something else stirred in him too. A fierce, protective instinct, one that told him he couldn’t just turn away from this.

But he couldn’t do this alone. He needed help.

Spencer pushed himself up from his chair, the letter still in his hand as he made his way to his  boss’s office.  His heart pounded erratically in his chest as he stumbled toward Hotch’s office, the world feeling like it was closing in on him. Each step felt like an effort, his legs heavy with a mix of fear and disbelief. The letter, a stark reminder of the life-altering revelation he had just uncovered, seemed to weigh him down more with every stride. Hotch was seated at his desk, the glow of his computer screen casting a shadow over his face as he looked up at Spencer’s sudden entrance.

Spencer’s face was flushed, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. Panic was evident in his strained breaths, which came out in short, ragged gasps. He could barely catch his breath, his chest tightening as he tried to speak.

“Hotch…” Spencer’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the blur of tears that threatened to spill over. “I—I need your help. I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

“Reid?” Hotch’s voice was calm, but Spencer could see the concern in his eyes as he noticed the expression on his face. “What’s going on?”

Spencer didn’t answer right away. Instead, he handed the letter to Hotch, who took it with a frown. As Hotch began to read, Spencer’s gaze drifted back toward the bullpen, where he could still see the baby carrier sitting on his desk. Hotch’s eyes widened as he took the letter from Spencer’s trembling hand, his gaze shifting between the letter and Spencer’s distressed face. He glanced up at Spencer, his expression a mixture of concern and empathy. Spencer collapsed into the chair, his breath still coming in shallow, uneven bursts. He buried his face in his hands, trying to regain his composure. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on him, making it difficult to think clearly.

When Hotch finally looked up, his expression was unreadable. “She just left her here?”

Spencer nodded, his throat tight. “I don’t know what to do, Hotch. She’s my daughter. But I… I don’t know how to take care of a baby. She’s only six weeks old.” 

Hotch leaned back in his chair, considering the situation. “Did anyone see her come in?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “She must have come in while we were still out on the case.”

Hotch stood up, moving toward the door. “Let’s check with security. See if we can figure out how she got in without anyone noticing.”

The two of them made their way to the security office, where the footage from the building’s cameras was stored. It didn’t take long to find the moment when the woman had entered the building, a hood pulled low over her face as she carried the baby carrier inside. She moved quickly, her face never clearly visible on any of the cameras. It was as if she had planned it that way—leaving no trace of herself behind, except for the baby she left in Spencer’s care.

Hotch frowned as they watched the footage. “We might not be able to find her,” he said quietly. “She knew what she was doing.”

Spencer’s heart sank.  He had hoped, against hope, that there might be some clue, some lead that would help him understand why she had left Naomi in his care. But it seemed she had taken every precaution to ensure she wouldn’t be found. The reality of her disappearance was setting in, and with it, the gravity of the situation.

He stared at the blank screen, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. He had so many questions—about her motives, about the timing, about everything. But as he considered the implications of forcing her to confront her decision, a realization began to form. She deserved privacy, even if he didn’t understand or agree with her choices. It wasn’t fair to drag her back into this, to force her to be a mother if she wasn’t prepared to be one. And on the other hand, it wasn’t fair for him to be forced into the role of a father without warning or preparation.

Spencer took a deep breath, letting go of the need for answers. He would respect her choice, even if it left him grappling with the unexpected responsibility. With a heavy heart, he nodded at Hotch, signaling that he was ready to move on.

“Alright,” Spencer said quietly. “I’ll respect her decision. I won’t go looking for her.”

Hotch gave him a supportive nod, understanding the weight of Spencer’s decision. “Let’s go back and check on Naomi.”

They walked back to the bullpen, where the baby carrier still sat on Spencer’s desk. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Spencer’s steps were slow and deliberate as he approached the carrier.

Hotch gently pulled the blanket away from Naomi, revealing her tiny, sleeping form. The sudden exposure to the cooler air made the baby shiver slightly, her delicate lips smacking in a tired, reflexive gesture. Hotch’s face softened with empathy as he quickly reached for a pacifier from the nearby supply of baby items.

He placed the pacifier gently in Naomi’s mouth. The moment the pacifier touched her lips, she instinctively began to suckle, her tiny gums working at the soft object. The soothing motion seemed to calm her immediately, and she settled into a more relaxed state, the shivering subsiding as the warmth of the pacifier brought her comfort.

“So what happens now?” Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hotch turned to him, his expression serious. “Legally, we have to report this. The child would either go into the system until we can locate the birth mother or any other relatives. But given the circumstances…” He paused, studying Spencer carefully. “You could take her home, Reid. She’s your daughter. If you’re willing to step up, she doesn’t have to go into the system.”

Spencer’s mind raced. Take Naomi home? It seemed impossible, overwhelming. But as he thought about it, he knew he couldn’t let her be taken away. She was his responsibility now, whether he felt ready for it or not. He had always been the type to analyze every detail, to consider every consequence, and now he found himself grappling with the gravity of his situation. The thought of Naomi being taken into the system filled him with a deep sense of dread. 

He knew all too well what could happen to children in the system. The stories he had encountered through his work were a grim reminder of the horrors that could await them. He had seen the psychological scars that children carried with them, the way their trust could be shattered and their sense of security upended. He had witnessed the impact of neglect, abuse, and the cold indifference of a system that, while well-intentioned, often failed to provide the warmth and stability that children desperately needed. The cases he had worked on had exposed him to the darkest aspects of human nature. He had seen the way people could exploit, harm, and exploit vulnerable children, their lives twisted into a series of traumas that were nearly impossible to undo. He had heard the stories of children who grew up in foster care, their experiences marked by a constant struggle for belonging, love, and safety. Each story had left a mark on him, a reminder of the fragility of childhood and the need for protection.

As he looked at Naomi, so small and innocent in her carrier, a surge of protectiveness washed over him. He couldn’t bear the thought of her being subjected to the same horrors that he had seen, of her becoming another statistic in a system that could not always safeguard its most vulnerable. He knew the emotional and psychological toll that could result from being shuffled from one place to another, from feeling like an outsider in a world that should have been a place of comfort and care.

“I’ll take her home,” Spencer said, the words coming out with more certainty than he felt. “I’ll figure it out. I can’t let her go into the system, Hotch.”

Hotch nodded, his expression softening slightly. “You won’t be alone in this, Reid. We’re all here to help. Let’s get the paperwork started.”

Spencer felt a mixture of fear and determination settle in his chest. His mind raced with questions and uncertainties about how he would manage this new responsibility. He still didn’t know how he was going to do this—how he was going to be a father to this tiny, innocent life that had been suddenly thrust into his world. But as he looked down at Naomi, still asleep in her carrier, he knew one thing for sure.

He was going to do everything in his power to give her the life she deserved.

Spencer’s hands shook slightly as he tried to figure out how to strap Naomi’s car seat into the back of his car. The piece of durable plastic seemed to mock him with its complexity. He had read countless books on a wide range of topics, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of trying to secure a car seat. The instructions that came with the seat might as well have been written in a foreign language, and the diagrams didn’t help much either.

He fumbled with the straps, his frustration growing with each passing minute. Naomi stirred in her carrier, making a small sound that tugged at his heart. He couldn’t help but feel like he was already failing her, and they hadn’t even left the parking lot yet.

After several more attempts to secure the seat, Spencer sighed in defeat and pulled out his phone. A quick search led him to a video tutorial, and he followed along step by step. It took a few tries, but he finally managed to get the seat installed correctly. He double-checked it, tugging on the straps to make sure everything was secure, then let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

He glanced back at Naomi, who was still fast asleep, her tiny fingers curled into a fist as she slept. He could see her eyes moving beneath her eyelids, soft whimpers escaping her lips as she dreamed. It was all so surreal. Spencer had barely wrapped his mind around the fact that he had a daughter, and now he was taking her home.

The drive back to his apartment was nerve-wracking. Every little sound Naomi made caused Spencer’s heart to race, and he found himself constantly checking the rearview mirror to make sure she was okay. Each sound, whether it was a slight shift or a soft sigh, felt magnified in the quiet of the car, adding to his growing anxiety. His mind raced with an endless stream of questions and concerns. What did he need to do now? How would he manage this new responsibility?

When they finally arrived at his apartment, Spencer carefully unbuckled the car seat and carried Naomi inside. The place suddenly felt too small, too quiet, as if it wasn’t ready to accommodate a baby. He had no crib, no bassinet—nothing to make sure she could sleep safely. He’d never had a reason to prepare for this, and now he was scrambling to figure out what to do.

Spencer set Naomi’s carrier down in the living room, looking around as if the answer might be hidden in the furniture. The apartment, usually so orderly and familiar, seemed suddenly alien and inadequate. His gaze settled on his bed, and he remembered something he had read in one of his many parenting books about co-sleeping being risky. But at the same time, he couldn’t exactly leave her in the carrier all night. She needed somewhere safe to sleep, and he had to act quickly. He scanned the room again, his mind racing for a solution. It wasn’t long before an idea struck him. 

e gathered some blankets and a large laundry basket from the closet, hoping they might serve as a temporary solution. With quick, determined movements, he lined the basket with the softest blankets he could find, making sure to tuck in the edges to create a snug and secure space for Naomi.

It wasn’t an ideal setup, but it would keep Naomi safe for the night. He knew he’d need to find a more permanent solution soon, but for now, this would have to do.

Exhausted, Spencer collapsed onto the couch, watching Naomi sleep. He felt like he was in over his head, but he knew he couldn’t afford to fall apart now. He needed to be strong for her, to figure out how to give her everything she needed. Hours passed, and Spencer found himself dozing off, but the sound of Naomi’s cries jolted him awake. The tiny wails filled the apartment, growing louder by the second. Panic surged through him as he tried to remember everything he had read about calming a crying baby.

“Okay, okay, it’s alright,” he murmured, lifting Naomi out of the basket and cradling her in his arms. She continued to cry, her face scrunched up in distress. Spencer’s heart ached at the sound, desperate to do something—anything—to make it stop.

He checked her diaper and found that it was wet, so he quickly changed it, hoping that would soothe her. But Naomi’s cries only grew more frantic. Spencer then tried feeding her, but she only took a few sips from the bottle before pushing it away and continuing to cry. He bounced her gently, tried burping her, even sang softly to her, but nothing seemed to work. Spencer was at a loss, his own eyes burning with unshed tears. He felt utterly helpless, the weight of his new reality crashing down on him.

After what felt like an eternity, Spencer realized he couldn’t do this alone. With shaky hands, he reached for his phone and dialed JJ’s number. She answered on the third ring, her voice groggy with sleep.

“Spence? What’s going on?” she asked, concern creeping into her tone.

“JJ,” Spencer’s voice cracked, tears spilling over as he spoke. “I need your help. I— I have a baby, JJ. She’s my daughter, and I… I don’t know what to do.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line. “Did I hear you right? You have a baby?”

“Yes,” Spencer choked out, cradling Naomi closer as she continued to cry. “Please, JJ, I need you to come over. I can’t— I don’t know how to calm her down. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” JJ said, her voice firm with determination. “Hang in there, Spence. I’m on my way.”

Spencer hung up, relief flooding through him as he clung to the hope that JJ would know what to do. He tried to soothe Naomi as best as he could, whispering soft words of comfort, but her cries didn’t ease. He paced as he waited, sniffling as he failed to soothe her. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he held her against his shoulder. 

True to her word, JJ arrived in record time, letting herself in with the spare key Spencer had given her years ago. She rushed over to where Spencer sat on the couch, Naomi still wailing in his arms.

“Let me see her,” JJ said gently, holding out her hands. Spencer passed Naomi to her, his heart heavy with guilt and worry. JJ held Naomi close, rocking her back and forth with a practiced ease. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. Aunt JJ’s here.” She hummed softly, swaying from side to side, and within minutes, Naomi’s cries began to quiet.

Spencer watched in amazement as JJ soothed Naomi, the baby’s wails gradually turning into soft whimpers. “How did you do that?”

JJ smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It’s not your fault, Spence. You’re doing your best. Babies just have a way of knowing when someone’s scared, and she can probably sense that you’re nervous. You just need to be patient with yourself—and with her.”

Spencer nodded, wiping his eyes as he took a deep breath. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this, JJ. I don’t know anything about being a father.”

JJ placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to learn, just like every new parent does. And you’re not alone. You’ve got us—me, the team, everyone who cares about you. We’ll help you get through this.” She chuckled as she placed Naomi in the laundry basket. “Raising babies takes a village, and you have one of the best out there.”

Sure enough, Spencer had all the support he needed. JJ had gone home in the morning after helping him calm Naomi, but she returned a few hours later with Will and Henry in tow. The sight of them brought Spencer a sense of comfort, like a lifeline had been extended just when he needed it most. Will carried in Henry’s old crib and JJ had a large bag filled with baby items slung over her shoulder.

“We figured you might need some of Henry���s old things to get you by,” JJ said, setting the bag down and giving Spencer a warm smile. “We’ve got more at home, but this should be a good start.”

Spencer was beyond grateful. He hadn’t even had the chance to think about where Naomi would sleep beyond the makeshift solution he’d created last night. Now, with a crib being set up in his bedroom, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

As Will assembled the crib, Henry sat on the floor beside Naomi, who was now lying on a blanket JJ had spread out. He was curious, poking gently at Naomi’s cheeks as she slept. “She’s so small,” Henry whispered, his eyes wide with wonder.

“She is,” Spencer agreed, watching the interaction with a soft smile. Despite most of the items being “boy things”—like blue onesies and trucks—Spencer was immensely grateful. The practicality and sentiment behind each item were what mattered most, and Spencer couldn’t thank them enough.

Henry gazed down at Naomi, his curiosity and fascination evident in his wide eyes. He studied her delicate features, her tiny fingers curled into soft fists, and her peaceful, sleepy expression. Spencer watched the scene unfold, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions—gratitude, awe, and a deep, newfound love for the little girl lying before him. After a moment, Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small toy car, one that was clearly well-loved. The paint was slightly chipped, and the wheels had been rolled over countless surfaces, but it was still in good shape. Henry hesitated for a second, glancing up at his father and then at Spencer before turning his attention back to Naomi.

“This is my favorite car,” Henry said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at the car in his hand, then gently placed it on the blanket beside Naomi, close to her tiny hand. “But Naomi can have it. I think she’ll like it.”

The simple, selfless gesture brought tears to Spencer’s eyes. He wasn’t expecting it—hadn’t prepared himself for the emotional impact of watching Henry, so young and yet so full of love, offer his favorite toy to Naomi without hesitation. Spencer blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay, but a few escaped and slid down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, but the overwhelming emotion was too much to contain.

“Henry,” Spencer said, his voice thick with emotion, “that’s… that’s incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”

Hotch, understanding the gravity of Spencer’s situation, had already granted him a few weeks of leave to adjust to his new role as a father. It was a small relief, but a vital one. Spencer knew that taking time off was the only way he’d be able to navigate the challenges of his new reality.

The team visited separately over the next few days, each of them bringing something unique to help Spencer and Naomi. Emily arrived with a large box of clothes for a baby girl, ranging from newborn to a few months old. “You’re going to need these sooner than you think,” she said with a grin, pulling out a tiny pink dress. “This one’s my favorite.” 

When Spencer looked exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open, Emily offered to watch Naomi so he could get a few hours of much-needed sleep. “Go on, I’ve got this,” she insisted, and Spencer, though hesitant at first, eventually relented. The nap was one of the deepest sleeps he’d had in days.

Penelope arrived a few days later, her arms full of bags containing frozen dinners. “I know you’re probably too tired to cook, so I made sure your freezer is stocked,” she explained, stacking the meals carefully. “Just pop them in the oven, and you’re good to go.”

Upon inspection, she had written the instructions on each lid along with an inspirational note. 

Derek came by with a stack of children’s books in his arms. “You’re never too young for a good story,” he said, placing the books on Spencer’s coffee table. “These are some of my favorites from when I was a kid. I figured you’s start reading to Naomi now—she’ll love hearing your voice.”

Rossi’s visit was a bit different. He brought an assortment of girly items—bows, ribbons, and even a small, plush pink blanket. “Every little girl needs a bit of flair,” he joked, showing Spencer how to tie one of the bows in Naomi’s fine hair.

When Hotch came by, he brought a few books he’d found helpful when Jack was born. “It’s a lot to take in,” Hotch said as they sat down in Spencer’s living room. “But you’ll get the hang of it. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and parenting is something you’ll learn, just like everything else.”

It was then that the overwhelming weight of everything finally hit Spencer. He had been holding it all together, trying to stay strong for Naomi, but the fear and uncertainty were still bubbling under the surface. Hotch had always been someone he looked up to, someone who had managed to balance fatherhood and the demands of their job with grace.

Spencer’s composure broke, and tears filled his eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this, Hotch,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I’m so scared that I’m going to mess this up. Naomi�� she deserves better than someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Hotch placed a reassuring hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Spencer, every parent feels that way at some point. It’s normal to be scared, especially when everything is so new. But you’re not alone in this. You have a team of people who care about you and Naomi, and we’re all here to help. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

Spencer nodded, wiping away the tears that had spilled over. “It just feels like there’s so much I don’t know. Every time she cries, I’m terrified that I won’t be able to figure out what she needs.”

Aaron gave him a small, understanding smile. “You’ll learn, Spencer. And Naomi already has everything she needs—she has you. You’re doing your best, and that’s what matters. The rest will come with time.”

Spencer looked over at Naomi, who was nestled in the crib that Will had set up. Her tiny chest rose and fell with each breath, and a sense of awe washed over him once more. He was still scared, but Hotch’s words gave him a sense of reassurance that he desperately needed.

For the first time since Naomi had come into his life, Spencer allowed himself to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could do this. It wouldn’t be easy, but with the support of his friends and his determination to give Naomi the best life possible, he knew he had a fighting chance.

The next year unfolded like a beautifully chaotic whirlwind for Spencer and Naomi. The early days were filled with sleepless nights, diaper changes, and countless moments of doubt. But there were also countless moments of joy, wonder, and discovery as Naomi grew and began to show more of her personality.

By the time Naomi was a little over a year old, she was walking—wobbling at first, but quickly gaining confidence with each step. Her laughter filled their home as she toddled around, exploring every corner with boundless curiosity. Spencer’s heart swelled with pride every time she reached a new milestone, no matter how small.

Their mornings settled into a comfortable routine. Spencer would wake up early, usually to the sound of Naomi babbling in her crib. He would scoop her up, her tiny hands reaching out for him, and they’d head to the kitchen together. Breakfast was always a shared bowl of oatmeal, something Spencer had learned Naomi enjoyed from their earliest days together. He’d feed her small spoonfuls, making sure it was just the right temperature, and she’d giggle or babble happily between bites. Spencer would carefully spoon out the oatmeal, blowing on it to cool it before offering a bite to Naomi. She would eagerly open her mouth, sometimes making a mess, but always with a smile or a babble of excitement. The sight of her chubby cheeks and bright eyes, so engaged in the simple pleasure of breakfast, made Spencer’s heart ache with a fierce, protective love.

After breakfast, it was time to get ready for the day. Spencer had developed a surprising skill in doing Naomi’s hair, carefully parting and brushing her soft curls before securing them with colorful clips or tiny bows that Emily and Penelope had gifted her. Naomi would sit patiently, sometimes holding a brush of her own, as Spencer fussed over her hair. He always made sure to give her choices in what she’d like to wear—holding up two outfits and watching as she pointed to the one she preferred, her brow furrowed in concentration.

As Naomi grew, so did her curiosity. She was always on the move, exploring every inch of their small apartment with relentless energy. Spencer found himself marveling at how quickly she learned and adapted, often trailing behind her as she ventured into new areas of their home. He would follow her, ready to ensure she stayed safe while encouraging her independence.

The days were filled with laughter and learning. Whether it was playing with toys, reading picture books, or taking walks to the park, each moment was an opportunity for Spencer to bond with Naomi and witness her development. The challenges of parenthood were many, but the rewards were even greater. Spencer felt a profound sense of fulfillment in watching Naomi grow, knowing he was providing her with a loving and supportive environment.

Reading became their favorite activity, a habit Spencer encouraged at every opportunity. He read to her during meals, while she played, and especially before bed. Naomi had her favorites—books with bright colors and simple stories—and she would hand them to Spencer with an expectant look, knowing he would happily oblige. It became their special time, a moment of calm before she drifted off to sleep. Spencer’s voice would grow softer as he read, his fingers gently brushing through her curls, and soon enough, she would be fast asleep, her tiny hand clutching a stuffed animal close to her chest.

The team remained an ever-present force in their lives, each member growing attached to Naomi in their own way. Emily was the fun aunt who always brought new clothes and toys. Penelope, who couldn't resist showering Naomi with love, would often arrive with new books or stuffed animals. Derek played the role of the cool uncle, bringing Naomi toy cars and balls to play with. He taught her how to roll them across the floor, and Spencer would often find her giggling as she tried to mimic him. Rossi spoiled her with little trinkets and treats, calling her “principessa” and telling her stories about his adventures. He’d bought a gold plated bracelet for her, her name engraved on the outside. Spencer refused it at first, but Rossi insisted. “It’s already engraved,” he said. Naomi never wanted to take it off. Hotch, always thoughtful, would visit with Jack, and the two children would play together under Spencer’s watchful eye.

The team would drop by often, sometimes just to spend time with Naomi and give Spencer a bit of a break. They celebrated her first birthday together, throwing a small party in Spencer’s apartment. Naomi had a cake—pink frosting smeared all over her face as she tried to eat it with her tiny hands. Everyone had laughed, and Spencer had taken so many pictures he’d lost count. Spencer had decorated the apartment with pastel streamers and balloons, transforming the living room into a vibrant, festive space. Naomi’s excitement was palpable as she waddled around, her giggles echoing through the apartment. Her outfit—a frilly pink dress and matching headband—made her look like a miniature princess.

 Naomi was thrilled to see familiar faces. JJ, Emily, and Penelope were among the first to show up, each bringing a thoughtful gift and a warm smile. JJ had a colorful stack of board books, Emily brought a plush toy that Naomi immediately hugged close, and Penelope had a small, handmade quilt that she had been working on for weeks.

As the team settled in, Naomi’s eyes widened with delight when she saw Henry and Jack. Though they were much older, the two boys had always been fond of her. They were enthusiastic participants in her birthday festivities, eager to play with their tiny friend. Henry and Jack took turns pushing Naomi in a toy car, their laughter blending with hers as they navigated the apartment. Naomi’s face lit up with pure joy as she played, her tiny hands clapping and her laughter ringing out each time they went around the room.

As the months passed, Spencer found that his life, once so carefully ordered and solitary, had become fuller, richer, and more chaotic than he could have ever imagined. Naomi brought light into his world, a light that radiated out and touched everyone around them.

And every night, after Naomi had fallen asleep and the apartment was quiet, Spencer would sit beside her crib, sometimes reading one last book just for himself. He’d look down at his daughter—his beautiful, strong, spirited daughter—and feel a deep sense of peace. Life had changed in ways he couldn’t have predicted, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Naomi was his world, and he was hers.

The years with Naomi seemed to fly by, each one filled with memories that Spencer held close to his heart. By the time she turned four, she had blossomed into a bright, lively little girl with an insatiable curiosity and a contagious laugh. She had inherited Spencer's sharp mind, often surprising him with the things she picked up and remembered. But more than anything, she had retained the pure, innocent joy of being a child—a joy that brought so much light into Spencer’s life.

Today, they were playing hide and seek, a favorite game of Naomi's. Spencer was “it,” walking slowly through their apartment, calling out playfully as he searched for his daughter. Naomi’s giggles echoed faintly from somewhere nearby, and Spencer couldn’t help but smile.

As he looked for her, he found himself stumbling across small reminders of the years they had spent together. Bending down to peek under the bed, he found a tiny newborn sock, no bigger than his palm. He picked it up, marveling at how small she had been once. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet also like it was just yesterday. Next, he checked in the kitchen, opening a cabinet where Naomi liked to hide sometimes. Inside, tucked in the back, he found an old baby bottle, its lid slightly askew. He remembered the nights he had spent in this very kitchen, warming milk for her when she was just a baby, pacing the floor as he tried to soothe her back to sleep.

Smiling to himself, Spencer moved on to his office. He didn’t expect her to be in here—Naomi knew it was a space her dad liked to keep neat and organized—but he checked anyway. Opening a drawer, he found a pacifier, one of Naomi’s old binkies, hidden away from when he was trying to wean her off of them. She had cried for it at first, but eventually, she had adjusted, like she always did.

Each of these small items served as a poignant reminder of their journey—of the sleepless nights, the first steps, the first words. They were memories of challenges and triumphs, of moments where Spencer had doubted himself but had found a way through, often with Naomi’s innocent determination leading the charge.

Finally, Spencer made his way back to the bedroom. He scanned the room and saw a suspicious lump beneath the blankets of his unmade bed. Smiling to himself, he called out, “Okay, Naomi, I give up! I can’t find you anywhere!”

He waited, expecting her to pop out from under the blankets with a triumphant cry. But instead, he heard a burst of giggles behind him. Spencer turned around just in time to see Naomi leap out from a laundry basket, her eyes shining with mischief.

“I win, Daddy! I win!” she chanted, bouncing up and down with excitement.

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, his heart swelling with love and pride. “Yes, you win,” he agreed, scooping her up into his arms. Naomi squealed with delight, wrapping her small arms around his neck.

As he held her close, Spencer realized that it didn’t matter who won or lost their little games. In the grand scheme of things, he felt like the true winner every day. He had Naomi—his daughter, his light, his reason for everything. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he cherished every moment, every memory they created together.

He looked into her bright eyes and smiled, knowing that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other. And that, more than anything else, was what made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

-

Part Two

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

ToA Fic Recs!!!

Tag List: @itscharliebabey

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!

I probably forgot a LOT but these are the ones I tracked down via bookmarks and frantic searches upon realizing they Were Not bookmarked rip 😔

AND ALL ORGANIZED!!!! :DDD

OneShots

Apollo & His Kids

A Heart Heavy With Memories by @summerbummin

After reclaiming his godhood, Apollo visits his children often, and on one of those visits he tells them about their mortal parents. He shows them memories of their time together. And ends up reminiscing a little more than he bargained for.

How I Met Your Mother(s and Fathers) by NebuchadnezzarII

Around the Cabin Seven table, Apollo tells each of his six children how he met their parents.

Through The Son's Eyes by @literallyjusttoa

A journey through Asclepius' relationship with his dad, from Ancient Greece to modern day.

demand nothing less (than transformation) by tissuebocks

Dad is quiet for a moment, stroking her hair. Then, with a surge of his usual flamboyant excitement: “At what time is your date?” Kayla blinks. She pulls back a little to look at Dad. He’s still a little blurry from the tears, but she feels much calmer now. “He’s picking me up at six. …Why?” Dad’s eyes—cobalt blue—sparkle. Literally. “We’re going to dress you to the nines.” (or: apollo loves his daughter. he also loves fashion. even better is when the two intersect.)

@tsarinatorment

Can't Take My Eyes Off You

Naomi Solace is performing at a black tie event, and neither her son nor his boyfriend know much about formalwear. Day 2: Black Tie Event

Fatal Flaw

Every demigod had one, and every demigod had their trial where they had to face it head on and hope they had the strength to defeat it before it defeated them. Day 24: Injuries Beyond Healing

A Right To Emotions

Apollo had abandoned his son when he needed him, and the worst thing was that he’d never realised until Nico told him. Day 30: Forgiveness In A New Day

Childhood, Or A Lack Thereof

Demigods grow up too fast. Day 23: How long does youth last for?

Memories of Sunflowers

He first met his dad in a field of sunflowers. Day 2: Alone in a Sunflower Field

Shuttered Heart

Apollo loves fiercely and his losses hit all the harder for it. It's a trait his children inherit.

Daughter of Archery

If there’s one thing Kayla knows, it’s archery. Day 17: Perfection Is A Must

Apollo & Meg

Movie Night by @falconfrost

Meg and Apollo attend a midnight horror movie showing. Everyone likes clowns, right?

yesteryear by @m-arnie-xx

yesteryear (noun) — last year or the recent past, especially as nostalgically recalled; often a period in the past with a set of values or a way of life that no longer exists. Or, There is eighteen hours, thirty-five minutes, and nine seconds, between when Meg last sees Apollo, and when Artemis sends a sign to Camp Half-Blood to tell them that he has survived and defeated Python.

lesterlicious by apopcornkernel

yazz_ • 1 week ago This dude is straight up LARPing as the god Apollo or something 4.7K likes REPLY View 25 replies

Meg & Apollo's Highly Limited Roadtrip Playlist by Curioser

Fourteen hundred miles. Four radio stations. Two friends trying hard not to kill each other, or to acknowledge the fact that in less than a week, they may never see each other again. And Lizzo. So much Lizzo.

visions of beasts by UKULELEchildren

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the dark haze. A vague smudge of purple appeared. His cloak. “No.” I whispered. “You’re dead.” What would Meg have visions about?

Apollo & Olympus

Beneath the Rhododendrons by Lepidopterrain

Carefully, she slipped past the hyacinths that had popped up around the bush like a small protective wall. They'd been the only reason she'd looked down at that spot really, and noticed the flash of gold curls amongst the pinks, reds, and purples of the rhododendrons. Artemis let her fingers linger on the petals of one of the small little guardian flowers, just for a moment. She'd never been sure if her brother had noticed just how little control he actually had over hyacinths, for a flower that was supposedly 'his.' She suspected Demeter and Persephone knew, if anyone. But neither goddess had deigned to talk of such matters with Artemis. Perhaps for the best, Artemis wasn't really sure what she would've said if they had tried to bring the subject up. There's a very good chance she wouldn't tried to shoot one of them and then escape while they were distracted. Emotions weren't her forte. She was grown enough to admit it. 

@tsarinatorment

The Older Twin

Apollo could lie all he wanted, Artemis was the older one. She’d never felt that as keenly as she did now. Day 26: Missing You

Third Strike

Zeus loved Apollo, once. His favourite son, his golden child. His greatest threat. Day 19: And So The Sun Sets

Ancient Greece

A Sun's Forgiveness by @hazardous-lightdas12

“Mortals die Artemis,” Apollo whispers. “Their lives will forever wax and wane. Like the moon. The ebb and flow of Uncle Poseidon’s waves. But us. We are eternal. You must remember that.” Her brother sounds like he has said the words to himself too many times. – Apollo does not scream when the lightning bolt strikes him. -- Alt Summary: Fathers make mistakes sometimes. Hippolytus’ father has made the teensy, easily understandable and forgivable mistake of beheading his son due to unproven and untrue allegations. Artemis grieves. Apollo tries to make everything all better, and somehow ends up making everything worse. . Zeus is so good at daddying! Admetus worries about the logistics of cow-herding

Of ravens and songbirds by Cassiethewriter

The godling whimpered and fought, and Python refused to let the hiss of frustration fall out. “Quite understandable, too.” He said, coils growing tighter and making the godling cough again. “Poor fair Leto being hunted by the issued Hera, the Queen of Olympus and the only child raised by Rhea. You heard of Leto’s suffering from day one, and sought to bring justice to it. Very brave and god-like.” Python snorted again. “But I’m afraid this is where you myths start— and end. Right here, right now. Like a moth to the sun.” Or, The battle with Python.

Phoenixrising007

Party On Olympus (gone wrong)

Mother’s hand was holding onto him firmly. Probably to stop Hermes from running down the hall and around the finely carved pillars decorating the sides of the palace. Despite the fact that if he were a mortal he would not even be walking yet, he already got himself into trouble recently.

Puppies (and why they can fix anything)

"Aww look at the puppy!” He raced forward, voice an octave higher than usual. As is normal when speaking to such an adorable creature.

Apollo & His Lovers

Naomi Solace

thinking about it, had a breakthrough by @thesungod

“I’m Naomi Solace!” “Okay?” “The singer?” Fred shakes his head, a smug smile on his lips. “Never heard of you.” “As Long As The Sun Shines? It was number 1 on the billboard for like, a month!” Hating herself, she starts mouthing the melody. There’s no way this asshole doesn’t know her stupid song. Naomi Solace meets an arrogant, young producer that she really wants to kick in the balls. Unfortunately, he seems to know what he’s doing.

Solar Powered by @curseofdelos (:D Glad to see you reblogged this hehe here's a tag :3)

Apollo, god of music, was how he had introduced himself. Naomi had assumed he was joking, and he didn't correct her. She had dated musicians and poets before. They all had an ego, and those same words would not have felt out of place from either of her exes. She merely downgraded Apollo from potential boyfriend to potential fling, and didn't think twice about it. Now though…. Now her son could heal wounds with a single touch, and her world was tipping on its axis.

Daphne

Plaything of the Gods - Daphne's Story by @the-primordial-archivist

When Apollo finally decided to wear a crown, it was her leaves that topped his head. But it wasn’t just he who wore her branches. Winners had her leaves on them too. Laurels. The symbol of victory.

Hyacinthus

You make a fool of death with your beauty (and for a moment, I forgot to worry) by @ukelele-boy

Sometimes as a god you lose track of time. With all his prophetic powers, Apollo never saw it coming.

His Flowers byshotar1s

Meg notices her servant, Apollo, is quieter than usual. Oh, the flowers in his hands explain why.

Frey

I Woo The Asgardian Hipster God by ladanse

"Another time, in a Stockholm tavern, I met this god who was smoking hot, except his talking sword just would not shut up." -The Hidden Oracle, Rick Riordan

(sidenote: WE NEED MORE FREYPOLLO)

REVOLUTION

Conversations (regarding a certain half-brother) by Phoenixrising007

Walking out of the council meeting Ares did his best to make sense of what just happened. Apollo was there. Back just like Athena said he would be. She won the blasted bet. Again.

@tsarinatorment

The Sun

Apollo plays the role of an idiot well enough that often, it’s forgotten that he’s one of the most powerful gods - and one of the most wrathful. #140: Setting Heaven on Fire

Seven Days and Seven Nights

A warning, a storm, and Will’s world gets flipped upside-down. Day 11: Storming

MultiChaps

Secrets of the Sun by @sierice and beta'd by @ukelele-boy

“No, that kid is too similar to me… way too similar... Almost like he’s…” Apollo’s eyes widened. “Like he’s you from the future?” Persephone finished. Dionysus asked incredulously, “You don’t seriously think that right? There’s no way you would ever dare to look like that!” --------------------------  This is literally just a Trials of Apollo reading the books fic. Hope you enjoy!

time eats all his children by IzzyMRDB

There is something sickly in the passage of time. Time is a rot. A disease or a plague, a festering in your very being that blurs the past until it is tainted with the present. Until the present is tainted with the future. The Greeks were well aware of this sickness, for all their depictions of time, while divine, were also rotted. AKA Apollo is the god least touched by the passage of time, yet the one most affected by it. There's so much of the present that he could change. AKA Time Travel with Post-TOA Apollo

Flowers For Apollo by @soleil-in-retrograde

As far as Lester Papadopoulos was concerned, he was seventeen years old and lived at home with his elderly mother just outside of Tampa. He had a(n older? younger? twin?) sister who visited regularly and a baby sister(?) in California who called him her dummy and would help out with his mother's garden when she visited and he was teaching piano to. He also had a myriad of cousins who went to a camp up north he wrote constantly. He didn't know what he wanted to do with the life stretching in front of him. ----- The God Apollo has a bad habit of not telling people when something is wrong. It doesn't help he doesn't quite remember until it's too late. It's not his fault.

Over The Palisade by @aeithalian

This was an old dream. He’d had it many times before. Jerry, standing before the Roman Senate.  Mars, waving his hand. A lyre, appearing on Jerry’s arm.  Jerry’s prophecy: “Crowns will fall to ash.”  Jupiter, standing between the new augur and a towering statue of himself.  Apollo, standing between his father and his son.  Olympus, Apollo on his knees, trembling, electricity jumping over his arms. A stranger’s face, dark and stony. He says something, but the words are quiet.  The doors of the Palace of the Sun. Chained shut.  Or: Apollo has been missing for two and a half years, and there may or may not be an impending apocalypse.

Sunrise by IcyDreams_and_FieryWishes

At 10,000 years of age, Apollo falls to Chaos. With the last of his strength, he sends his memories through the fabric of Space-Time. At 1 day of age, Apollo refuses to let the story be the same as last time. Vi Va La Revolution. SkyFall: Season 1, Arc 1- The Rising Sun. In which Apollo lives through his early life, forming alliances and rewriting mythological history while striving to keep his siblings and family safe from threats outside and within their home. Will he succeed? Or will Fate prevail once more? One thing is for sure, Apollo remembers. And he will take his vengeance.

@tsarinatorment

THE MUST-READ Eclipse!!!!!!

According to the prophecy, Will has to go to on a quest to Tartarus. According to Apollo, that isn’t going to happen, even if it means he has to break the Ancient Laws.

The Stolen God is a ToA/MCatGoA crossover!

Python is defeated. The prophecies are restored, and Nero has fallen. Apollo has not been seen since. His trials are over; why isn’t he back on Olympus?

@flightfoot

Memories of Godly Selfishness

Chapter 1: Apollo and Meg watch Apollo's interactions with the demigods (and Grover) in Blood of Olympus and the Singer of Apollo. They don't like what they see. Chapter 2: Apollo, Meg, and Percy watch the fight with Otis and Ephialtes in Mark of Athena. Apollo gains new perspective on gods’ relationships with demigods. Chapter 3: Apollo, Meg, and Annabeth watch the final battle against Kronos and the aftermath, with a surprise guest later on. Chapter 4: Apollo and Meg watch “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood”. Apollo gives a long over-due apology. Chapter 5: Side Story - Satyr School: Apollo teaches some young satyrs. Chapter 6: Apollo, Meg, Thalia, and Will watch Thalia's and Luke's encounter with a certain son of Apollo.

A Convergence of Apollos

Percy had been hoping for a quiet afternoon celebrating Grover's birthday with him. Then Apollo arrived, and their peaceful afternoon got a lot less peaceful. It got even weirder when two kids popped out of thin air who both seemed to know him.

@falconfrost

Apollo & The Aftermath

The Roman emperors and Python have been defeated, the oracles reclaimed, and Apollo restored to godhood. He's having somewhat of a hard time adjusting to being back among the gods, which is understandable after his six-month grow-a-conscience speedrun. But something else is rotten in the state of Olympus, and before it can really feel like home, it's going to require some serious renovation.

The Tail of A Pollo

The hunt for the Teumessian Fox hasn't been going great, but thanks to a new prophecy (of sorts), it looks like Apollo may be key to aiding the Hunters of Artemis in the beast's defeat. In like, a super badass, heroic way, of course. Actually, on second thought, maybe just imagine the monster's defeat in your head. You definitely don't have to read this. I'm certain you get the gist of it already. You can simply exit this tab real quick, no biggie. Have a lovely day!

Bad Sons by @thesungod

Hades turned to the demigods that were still kneeling. “I need to speak with Will Solace,” he said to the shocked room, in the tone he could have used to say “I came to ask if one of you could lend me a pen.” “Alone,” the god added after a moment, staring right at Nico. Or, Will and Nico go on the stupidest quest ever. And it’s all Apollo’s fault.

Curioser

Fall of The Sun

Five times Apollo fainted and one time he didn't.

The Trials of Apollo: The Forgotten Acres

When their truck breaks down on the way to New York, Apollo and Meg get a few days of downtime in a refuge called the Forgotten Acres. While there, Apollo confronts a decision he's been putting off for weeks, and finds that it's one of the hardest choices he's ever had to make.

RavenWingDark

Kill The Sun

Even restored to godhood, Apollo still wants to be around his friends and mortal family, even at the risk of Zeus'...dissatisfaction. This is the four times Apollo got away with helping his demigods and the one time he didn't.

Mourning Sun changed my brain chemicals

Percy has the Chalice and all he has left to do is hand it over to Ganymede. Then he notices Ganymede might not be the only one being mistreated by Zeus. Apollo's at brunch, too.

Series

the grace of gods is a grace that comes by violence by @californiannostalgia

Were I That Burning Star, the first fic in the series, is an absolute Must Read imo

An old panic gripped me—the breathless fear of being forgotten, being lost. Would anyone remember me when I was gone? Would someone think to lay a flower down on my grave and say some fond nothings like, “Was a pretty cool guy, that Lester,” while wiping off a single dramatic tear rolling down their cheek? Oh, who was I kidding. So what if no one remembered? There wasn’t much I was proud to be remembered by anyway. After defeating Python and bringing down Nero, Phoebus Apollo reclaims his godhood. He is glorious once more. But for some reason, he can't quite make himself go back to how things were before. (A Character Study of Various Gods, including but not limited to: Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares, Athena, Hephaestus, Dionysus, and maybe Zeus)

Gods' Eye View by @flightfoot

Carefully, I picked out Apollo’s string. It glowed vibrantly, as the strings of all divine beings do. Mine most brilliantly of all, of course, though Apollo’s always seemed to be trying to outshine it. I firmly grasped hold of it, matching its own glow with my own. Slowly, I exerted my will, my power, pressing my radiance against the manifestation of Apollo’s, slowly increasing my light until it overpowered his. Yet, it resisted me, its glow strengthening, refusing to surrender. I grit my teeth. “I am Zeus, King of the Gods, and your father. Submit to me.” ----- Zeus tries to turn Apollo into a mortal. It does not go as well as he expected. That only incenses him further.

The Hidden Oracle+1 spin-offs by @garecc

Artemis falls to earth with Apollo in the hidden Oracle. Flames streamed off her body as she fell. Features sibling banter, protective Artemis, and far too many headcanons. ON AN INDEFINITE HAITUS.

rip hiatus😔

Memories of Dust and Gold by @moodyseal holds lots a variety of fics!

Companion Fics

The Healing Sun by ReadTheBooks. Companion to Eclipse

You are Asclepius. You are 9 and just want to help people. Your father is kind, and warm, and you love him dearly. Or, a look at a relationship hindered by loss but persevering through love. Asclepius and Apollo throughout the ages.

Other, But During ToA

A Single Drachma by @tsarinatorment, podfic by @stereden

Alone. Injured. Hunted. Michael doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s running out of time, and he’s only got one shot at calling for help. He’s got to make it count.

In Dreams by @m-arnie-xx

Zoe did not like Lord Apollo. He was too arrogant, too vain, and flirted with her and her fellow hunters incessantly. He always appeared in their camp at the most inconvenient times, offering archery tips that no one wanted and being a persistent source of annoyance to Lady Artemis near constantly. Zoe did not like Lord Apollo, but sometimes, when Zoe asked a Hunter how they knew something they couldn’t have possibly found out by themselves, and they told her about their dream, she would look up at the sun, and she would wonder… or Zoe did not get demigod dreams… until she did.

Hunger Games AUs

Bloody Eclipse by AmeliaAndreas3

The Sun Must Go On by @please-help-this-little-lesbian

The Golden Gates by SAM_42

Still The Mockingjay Won't Sing by SunnySky_11

The Copollo Masterlist - Collection of Ao3 & FF.net fics of Apollo & Commodus </3 Trainwreck beloved

And of you'd like, my fics:

The Works of Apollo - Canon Compliant Fics!

Alder's Mess of ToA AUs - AUs!

Adventures in (Grand)Parenting: Featuring Koios - My obsession with Koios spawned this!

The Crew of Dodona - Pirate AU! Random fic ideas written whenever the itch strikes!

[echo-stimmingrose]

“And where have you been?”

Will freezes, feet halfway in the door, eyes locked on his brothers in what only can be described as a deer in headlights look. The standoff lasts several seconds as Will debates whether to back out the way he came or get hit by the oncoming car. Like most deers when faced with a life or death situation, he remains put as his very brief time on this mortal plane flashes through his mind.

Illuminated under a singular lamp, like their about to perform an interrogation- dramatic fucks- is Micheal with quite possibly the most shit eating grin Will has ever seen; and Lee, who's expression alone tells him he's about the get the scolding of a life time.

“Helloooo, dear brothers!” Will cajoles, plastering on as bright a smile as humanly possible. “Don’t you two just look lovely this fine morning!”

“Where have you been?” Lee repeats, undeterred by Will's poor attempt at flattery.

“I was on a morning walk!” -not a complete lie- unfortunately, stupid Apollonian traits didn’t see it that way, his traitorous voice squeaking up several more octaves than necessary as he starts to cough. Thanks a lot dad.

Micheal only grins wider, ��Nice try, we saw you leaving at eleven, Which means,” -He pauses to theatrically check his watch, despite the fact that he does not, and has never, owned a watch- “you’ve been gone a whole eight hours now!”

“You saw me leave? Wait- Have you two been sitting here all night waiting for me?”

“Not important-”

“What is important,” Lee cuts in, “Is what on Earth you could have been doing at such ungodly hours in the evening?”

“I wasn’t doing anything!” He insists with a whine high enough that all the dogs in New Jersey collectively howl.

“You we're out all night, William Andrew-” oof, Is the full name really necessary? “-No teenager who crawls out of a window, falling on his face as he does so, I might add-” Okay, rude. “-In the dead of night, is ever up to anything good”

He scolds him with a tone that could rival even his southern mama. Quite the impressive feat Will must admit (in his head of course, never out loud, Lee would like that too much). Truly he rues the day his older brother officially meets The Naomi Solace in person. Those forces are simply too powerful that if they joined it would throw off the balance of every ecosystem within a thirty mile radius. Two hawks sharing a territory while he is but a simple field mouse doomed forever under the gaze of the predators, with little places to run, always being caught. What crimes did he commit in a past life to deserve such a hellish tragedy?

Locked in another stalemate and desperate to escape the hole he's in, he takes the most logical option- not putting down the shovel of course- but scoffing at the pure audacity that they would be accusing him of the thing he very much did do.

“I am offended, at you implying that I of all people! Would be up to something heinous! I mean, ME!?!? I am a VERY good kid! I am very responsible! I am ALWAYS on time!!-”

“Can you even tell time?”

“I follow all the rules to a T!-”

“That's not even close to accurate”

“I am extremely respectful to my elders!-”

“Ha! That's funny.”

“I have never done anything against the law!-”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

The rest of the cabin starts to awaken to bear witness in what surely will be Will’s final days on this earth. None of them come to his aid of course, all finding the situation to be much to humorous. Even his patented puppy eyes fail at getting him any assistance in his battle with the all mighty tyrant that is Lee Fletcher.

He makes his way past his brothers and to his bed, doing his best to ignore them as they just swivel their chairs. Where the hell they even got those chairs he has no idea. He rips his flannel off, throwing it onto his bunk- he is nothing if not theatrical- and turns back around to continue arguing his case when the hushed snickers of his traitorous siblings increases to snorts and giggles. Micheal has all but fallen over in hysterics while Lee’s scowl has somehow deepened.

“What?”

“Rookie mistake, William,” Micheal says between guffaws, “Rookie mistake.”

He looks down to where his siblings are pointing and where should be, his neon camp shirt, is a black tee that reads ‘cabin thirteen’. “Shit.” he mumbles, cautiously looking up at his eldest brother who has a look so cross he could probably pass as a southern grandma who just got her finest china broken by roughhousing grandkids.

“I am going to have some words with that boy.” He announces, much to Will’s utter horror.

“Don’t you dare!”

“I will-”

“You are the actual worst!”

“That boy is a bad influence-”

“I hate you so much.”

“I think I will contact his sister too.”

“What the fu-.”

“Language, William.”

“Oh fuck you!” he exclaims before his brain can catch up to stop him from shooting himself in the foot and most likely condemning him to a lifetime of stable duty.

“Thats its, you are grounded, Young Man-” The tyrant declares, officially shackling him.

“What! You can’t do that!” He argues, pointlessly fighting against the chains.

“I absolutely can.”

“No-!”

“I want you back in the cabin by seven thirty each night for the foreseeable future.”

“SEVEN THIRTY!?!?” Will screams, “The campfire’s not even done by seven thirty!!!” He argues, flailing his arms as if that will help get his point across.

Lee nods, “Seven thirty.”

“I am not a child I don’t need a curfew!!”

“You are a child.”

“Are not! I’m fourteen!”

“A child.”

“UGHhhhhhhh!” He screeches, miming a crushing motion with his hands, hoping to explode Lee’s head via the force. It, unfortunately does not work.

He then decides to stand up and announce that it is breakfast time before casually leading the rest of the apollo campers out of the cabin as if he didn’t just ruin a poor innocent teens life.

“Well that was amusing,” Says his annoying younger sister, hanging back from the group, reveling way to much in his suffering.

“Shut up Kayla.”

She just grins, looking far to similar to Micheal for his liking. “I just can’t wait till he finds out about your tattoo.”

“Oh gods.”

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

So this is part of an au/verse I'm working on where basically everyone lives and they all get to be normal teens with semi normal teen problems. (It will probably end up being mostly cabin seven based cause they're my fav) It's not gonna be written in a specific order or anything probably just a bunch of one shots of things I think of. Let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions of prompts/story lines for this verse lmk.

Also Lee is supportive of Will and Nico's relationship he's just being an annoying older brother cause he can.

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Naomi Solace from @mediumgayitalian 's latest fic that I'm literally in love with <3

I used @aroaceleovaldez 's character design sheet for Naomi a little bit too cause I don't know country clothes lol but I'm really happy with how it turned out and those boots are 😙👌

the bag has a jar of jam, a single pickle [you can buy those???], one of her many cassettes and her key btw

[dr-flipflops]

OOC: Will's Lonely 18th Birthday people, as per Cresent's request. - @permetutotheworld @the-eclipse-is-in-me @fukurouonthesea Here we go :) Its sooooooo long, I got so bloody carried away, sorry guys.

*Will left another tray in front of Nico's door, a yellow sticky note on the side*

(what the note said is in italics)

*I hope you've been eating all the food I'm giving you Neeks. Ew- I'm 18 today, EW!!! I'm oooooold :( . I don't have to be a functional adult now do I? Surely, I get a pass for being neurodivergent. I hope you have a nice day INSIDE, please come out. I miss you*

*It had been a week, and Nico was still holed up in the cabin. Will had been denied access, but he'd seen Cresent and Noa go in just fine, heck even CLARISSE gained entrance. It broke something inside Will, but he shrugged it off. They were his family, of course he'd let them in. Will was just an inconvenience he had to put up with, and take care of. He'd known Clarisse for years, Cresent was his sister, and Noa was like his little brother*

*Its fine Solace, come on. Its your birthday. Cheer up. Its fine. Everything's okay.*

*Will's siblings had given him a lovely morning, and the campers who remembered and were the ones who still looked him in the eye had wished him at breakfast. It was nice. But it wasn't the same. Chiron had given him the full day empty, but he had no-one to celebrate with. His siblings all had duties, and they refused to let him work on his birthday. Everyone else was busy too. Will would usually go back to Texas for the week to be with his mother, but with Nico holed up he wanted to stay here*

*Besides, it wasn't like he wanted to celebrate it anyways. The only thing good about it was that he was another year closer to the grave. He didn't know what to do, he wished he could work, that way at least he wouldn't feel so lonely and useless. At least healing gave him a purpose and he felt good after saving someone. At least he'd feel something*

*Will lazily walked through the woods, kicking his feet, cupcake with candle in hand. He made it to his special spot on the coast, where he had the shade of the trees, and a view of the sparkling lake, but could still bask in the sun's rays without it bothering his eyes, not that it had ever in the first place. Wind whistled past, and birds sang, the sun shone golden rays that illuminated the rocks, slick with crashing waves*

*The day was undoubted perfect. Will knew it was curtesy of his father, his way of saying "happy birthday". Will was grateful, but he didn't really feel it*

*The candle glowed bright, Will cupped the cupcake in his hands and held it close*

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to meee.

*Will blew it out gently, and wished that today would be the day Nico would come out, even if it was to just say a simple hello. Tears stung his eyes and he laughed a little*

Guess I'm an adult now. huh. Never thought I'd get here.

*Will leaned back against the rock behind his perch, face tilted up as one or two tears down*

But you always knew, didn't you Lee? You said I'd make it Micheal, you were right it seems.

*Tears choked his throat, he looked up at the trees shadowing him above, and the sun softly shining through the canopies. It was like they were here, he could almost hear their voice. Almost feel the laughter of the younger ones. Gracie would've loved to meet Fay*

I wish you were here. I wish you all were.

*Something shimmer past his head and he looks to see his mother's smiling face*

*Will jolts upright*

MA!!?

Naomi: Hi Billy!!! Aw, my little William has grown up so much, 18 now! I thought you were coming home for your birthday?

Will: You-you remembered?

Naomi: no, I just happened to throw a drachma into the lake on accide- OF COURSE I REMEMBERED WILLY!!! You're my favourite son, I can't believe expect so little of your mother.

Will: Ma, I'm your only son.

Naomi: Even better! No competition. Anyways, how come you aren't home?

Will: Sorry Ma, things happened, and I got caught up in camp.

Naomi: Aw, I wanna see my son! You're officially an adult!

Will *small laugh*: Still can't drink though.

Naomi: You can drink water.

Will *groans*: Maaaaa

Naomi: Oh pish posh. Those Americanos *tuts* we're Spanish William, they don't have to know *winks*

Will *laughs fully for the first time all day*: Maaa!

Naomi *grumbles about Americans, then gives Will a stern look* : You better come home for Christmas William Andrew Solace, and you can tell that Chiron of yours to stick it where the sun don't shine if he says otherwise

Will *laughs again*: Alright, alright ma!!!

Naomi *smiles*: Seriously. Oh look at you my sweet boy. When you were taken from me, you couldn't even tie your laces, now you're 18, all grown up. *sighs*

Will: I'm still your little boy Ma, always

Naomi: Damn right you are! Don't you change a bit Billy. You've got a big heart, you dare lose it and your Abuelo will roll in the grave, and your Abuela will storm over from Spain

Will: Don't worry! I won't :) Even if the reason is my fear of Abuela's ladle.

Naomi: That woman, when she has her hands on a cooking utensil, y'all better run away or run towards the table ready to be stuffed like a Christmas hog.

Will: Yeah.

Naomi: Well, you're only 18 once Willy, I hope you have a good day!

Will *tight smile, hiding the loneliness*: Yep, terrific, look! I got the cupcakes you sent me!!!

Naomi: Aw, *someone gestures off-screen* uh huh, *back to Will* Billy, I'm so sorry, but I'm gonna have to go, there's something wrong with the sound systems, I'm so sorry. I want to talk to you more, after all, my baby is only gonna turn 18 once, its a special day! *bites lip and looks conflicted*

Will *his heart breaks. He was gonna be alone again. He makes a smile*: Its alright Ma, I've got a cupcake to eat after all! *huffs a laugh*

Naomi *blows him a kiss*: Love ya Willy! Happy birthday sweetheart.

Will: Bye-

*Naomi cuts the message*

-Ma.

*Will swallows. He was alone again. His mother had more important things to do, OF COURSE SHE DID SOLACE, SHE HAS A LIFE, grow up Will. Will took the burnt out yellow candle from the cake, and bites into it*

*It tasted like home. Tears brimmed on Will's eyes and warm memories flooded his brain at the chocolate melting in his mouth*

*Memories of Spain- the brightly coloured streamers everyone would hang around. Abuela would be cooking a feast in the kitchen , so Will would wake up to the scents of heaven filling the house and smooches from Ma. He'd bound down the stairs and promptly be told that even though it was his birthday he still had to brush his teeth. Will would get it done as fast as possible, then go and help Ma bake cookies and cupcakes. He'd go outside and immediately be pelted with shouts and cries, hugs and noogies from the neighbourhood kids. Then, after being fed like a king, at night, the family would gather and Will would blow out the candles, and cut the cake to find the clue at the center*

*He'd use the clue to find others to find his gifts, which only then he'd be able to open. The whole procedure from the candles, to the singing, to the cake, to the hunt, to the opening would be filmed. Will's beaming face photographed on his birthday every year*

*Will finished the cupcake, and found a note in the centre. Hollowness that had filled his heart swelled. It was a little heart with a smile, and a "happy birthday Billy". Will smiled through the tears, and he was almost home in Texas with his Ma. But he looked up and the empty lonely came back. He smiled a bit through the tears. At least his Ma had sent him these. Will knew he was going to find other notes in the other cupcakes, he turned the paper over and found another message: "Brush ya teeth Billy"*

*Will laughed, and no one heard*

-----

*That night, Will came back late, his siblings already fast asleep*

*He felt vacant again*

*Nico had decidedly NOT come out. He didn't see Aria's smile all day, and Noa never even said hi. Cresent, as per usual, avoided him*

*Will collapsed into bed, and curled up. Emotionally exhausted*

*He missed home. He missed his Ma. He mourned his life. He mourned the Will Solace he used to be, the one everyone sees, the one everyone wants. Campers look at him, but its not him they see, they see the Will they knew, the Will he'll never live up- hell he doesn't even remember the memories, HE DOESN'T KNOW THAT WILL. He missed Nico. He missed being loved. He missed so much. He hated this overwhelming, all consuming loneliness. It's like his life has been reset, and everyone is treading on eggshells, and he was deserted by those he loved most all over again*

*For his "special day" he sure as hell didn't feel it- DON'T BE SELFISH SOLACE. he felt nothing at all, and while that may be a blessing some days, today he hated it. Hated himself. Hated living*

*When he had gone to pick up Nico's tray he saw that Nico hadn't taken the note. He always took the note. Will didn't bother placing another one with the next tray*

*Something consumed him*

*That night, Will cried himself to sleep*

[aroaceleovaldez]

Any headcannons about Will Solace? he's an underrated bby (I think?) and I personally hc that he used to be a very moody kid but then decided to turn off all of his negaive emotions (most of the time)

oh i have SO many Will Solace headcanons built up from writing him on Deadangelos so much. Below the cut cause this is very long (and tumblr started glitching about the list format so manual it is):

- His roles at CHB are basically "Every possible medical personnel Ever™." He's camp medic, physician, surgeon, pediatrician, pharmacist, psychiatrist, therapist, dentist, optometrist, veterinarian, etc etc etc. Technically Chiron is also All Of That, but ever since Will joined camp most of the responsibility falls to him (at least in part because campers generally feel a bit more comfortable dealing with somebody their own age versus an immortal centaur), and Chiron just mentors him on it (unless they're running low on hands, in which case Chiron does pitch in, and sometimes the other Apollo kids help staff the infirmary if Will needs. In the past though it was usually just Chiron and whichever camper he pulled in that week to do first aid training with. Mr. D only really handles therapy stuff if Will isn't able to for one reason or another. Will gets very individualized training and has has own schedule separate from the rest of his cabin to account for all of that. Chiron basically personally took Will in under his wing as his apprentice and a not insignificant portion of Will's personal training is gross anatomy lessons with Chiron in the camp morgue. Will does not question where Chiron procures the cadavers for that. He probably should. They aren't campers. They are sometimes demigods, but not always. Most of the rest of camp doesn't even know there's a morgue, let alone that Will does gross anatomy dissection. It's not technically a camp "secret," Will isn't secret about it at all, but most campers treat it like it is and like to use it to try and spook new campers. The ones who find out about the gross anatomy portion and that there is exactly zero information about how Chiron is procuring cadavers are Mildly Concerned.

- Photokinesis and plague powers Will are both extremely fun. I love making him a son of Apollo Smintheus specifically and giving him pet rats and/or the ability to talk to rats and mice. He thinks they're soooo cute and is definitely the type to brag about how intelligent rats are. I also like to think he maybe had a pet snake at one point, like a big ol' boa. Will with a sunglow boa or something? yes? (I also just in general love the idea of Will's house back in Texas being a cute little ranch cause Naomi is rich and also a cowgirl and Will having a ton of different animals over the years. He probably originally wanted to be a veterinarian before he settled more on medic.)

- I just generally love playing with Will (not-so) subtly being the exact opposite of what people would expect from an Apollo kid. Initially he looks like the gold standard for an Apollo kid - sunny, friendly, chill, medic/healer, interest in science/arts/fandom, etc etc. Then you speak to him for more than 20 minutes and find out he loves snakes and rats and guts and gore and is fascinated by disease and mold. He takes gross anatomy classes taught by Chiron. One of his favorite hobbies is just dissecting stuff. He's into vulture culture. His idea of a perfect date is holding hands over a cadaver he is actively cutting into and passing the other person cool stuff he's fishing out. Also he's very vocal about thinking monsters are hot and the combo of all of that is exactly why he's into Nico. Everybody else thinks Nico's inherently cursed or something? Will doesn't mind being cursed - in fact he wants to be cursed, for science. He's swooning over the idea of Nico sacrificing him for some dark ritual in the middle of the night. He daydreams about Nico being a vampire that's gonna romantically kill him. The rest of camp is waiting for the day Will does something stupid and gets himself killed like, flirting with a monster (or the Hades kid) or something. Nico just generally doesn't know how to feel about the whole situation but is? (hesitantly) flattered?? that somebody is enthusiastic about him while recognizing and appreciating his Underworld aspects. Will is out-weirding him, somehow, and Nico never knew this was a thing that could happen.

- Related to that - I have a whole headcanon about "Bad Omen" demigods, which are basically the other main CHB cabin's versions of Hephaestus kids with fire powers being bad luck. For Apollo kids their "bad luck omen" super rare power is a plague-powers kid, and Will showed up during the Titan War, just a couple months before the Battle for Manhattan when nearly all his cabin died. He is very acutely aware of this superstition and fully believes he is a bad luck charm for the cabin and feels SUUUUPER guilty about it and so hides his plague powers. It's not that he feels bad about his plague powers specifically - he thinks plague stuff is really fascinating and his powers are cool and can be used for healing too! - he's just really concerned about how others will view him. (Very strong parallel dynamics between how Will views his plague powers vs the stigma around them & how Nico views his Underworld powers vs the stigma around them. They are handshake emoji).

- TTC implies that Apollo kids are more often than not summer-only campers, and I think it's fun to have Will's backstory being: He may or may not have "accidentally" caused a plague/pest outbreak at his old school early into the year and between that school having to shut down for a couple of months because of that and his mom maybe going on tour, they decided it was time for him to move to CHB and go there year-round. Except he goes from Texas to New York in the middle of winter and he's a son of Apollo, so he gets there and it's like sleet and slush and all cold and he's the only Apollo kid at camp and he hates it so bad. He eventually gets used to it but it is awkward when all his siblings come back in the spring/summer to find they have a new youngest sibling who's just been chilling all by himself for a couple of months. But then Austin and Kayla join so at least he's not the newest/youngest Apollo kid. (But then nearly all of Cabin 7 immediately dies in TLO and Will's right back to being in a mostly empty cabin and being in charge.)

- He definitely puts on an approachable/friendly, or at the very least calm, face 99% of the time, partially because it's expected of him and it's also maybe a little bit masking (it's a lot masking) cause he knows he can be a bit much. He is 100% the type of guy who feels like he has to solve all his problems himself and can't let anybody else know he has problems, and also that he has to help everybody else with their problems because that's his job, right? So he's constantly stressing himself out to the point of breakdown. He also half lives in the infirmary (which he totally has his own little office in) and he'll just shut himself in and spend like, a couple of days straight in there and probably not sleep. He's a workaholic just as bad as Nico and a total hypocrite about it/about overexerting one's self but he's working on it. Nico's too much of a take-no-shit kind of guy (and also him and Will are way too similar) so usually when Will nags Nico about that kind of thing it turns into Will looking in a mirror or Nico turning it back around on him and Will going "ah shit i need to take my own advice >:T"

- He's best friends with Drew Tanaka and he lets out his bitchy side when he's hanging out with her. they are bitching friends. they love to bitch. It's a great venting environment for him cause he knows Drew loves to hear him complain and talk shit so he can just let out all his pent-up frustrations and she'll just enthusiastically eat it all up. The two of them will gossip endlessly. Drew is mildly concerned about Will's romantic tastes though (again: monsters. cryptids. the Addams family. evils from the shadows. the guy from The Shape Of Water. Nico) and keeps trying to talk him out of flirting with things that might kill him. He does not listen to her.

- His only normal crush is Paolo but everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop about how Will could possibly be weird about this one (there's an ongoing camp bet with different theories). He also dated Drew for like, all of a week but they both decided they totally hated it and preferred to stay just besties (bonus points: That was what Drew considered as her passing the whole Aphrodite-kids-breaking-hearts thing. literally neither of them cared).

- I know his full name is William but it's really funny if he lies about that and his full name is actually Wilhelm, named after the scream.

- ...He is a Swiftie. He's been a Swiftie since he was younger back with like, OG-era country music Taylor Swift and he's just stuck with it.

- Trans!Will is fun and I love it lots. Drew helping him with transition stuff is also very near and dear to me.

- His crush on Nico originates from them meeting for the first time during the Battle for Manhattan. Nico's attempt at flirting with Percy misfired and hit Will instead lmao. Nico parts the Titan Army in cool thematic armor and with three gods in tow, says a dramatic one-liner, and then is super badass in battle and Will is head-over-heels for him immediately. He then proceeds to spend the next year obsessing over Nico and being tormented by Nico never being at camp and never being able to talk with him. Ergo why when Nico shows up in BoO, Will is immediately like "HOLD MY HANDS. THREE DAYS IN THE INFIRMARY. HANG OUT WITH ME PLEASEEEE-" (and that's why Will was under the assumption that Nico was actively avoiding people rather than being ostracized, cause he had heart-eyes tunnel vision). Him in BoO though really is just seeing his crush and losing all his cool.

- For some reason he is just an absolute magnet for chthonic demigods. Nico, Lou Ellen, Cecil (who i hc is a chthonic Hermes kid), etc etc. He thinks Underworld stuff is super cool though (again, see: Will being super into spooky/gory stuff/etc). Also all the ex-Titan army kids decided they were his personal body guards immediately after the war cause he was nice to them.

- He is a HUUUUGE nerd. Specifically a sci-fi and disney nerd. They're his hyperfixations (/special interests if you lean more autistic!Will) <3 His favorite franchises are Star Wars and Avatar (the blue one). He loves conceptual alien biology/ecology and could go on about it endlessly. He will also very enthusiastically infodump about Disney history (both the art/animation side and theme parks side) and other sci-fi series. Ask him about Doctor Who (you will be there for several hours).

- Will being a micro-celebrity cause of his mom is very fun to me. He's been on talk shows and stuff before cause people love how snarky this country star's kid is. He has an extremely popular Instagram and Austin uses him as clickbait in his Youtube videos extremely often (including forcing him to guest-star or do like react content and stuff) (Will is more than happy to indulge him though cause he finds it funny).

- I also love the idea that Will and Piper have actually known each other since they were little, from Tristan and Naomi meeting at some point and realizing they had kids the same age and encouraging them to be pen-pals. Once social media becomes more of a like, Proper Thing™ they become mutuals on Instagram but just use it to periodically send each other silly memes (Piper's instagram is private and basically all she uses it for is dm'ing people). It takes them a solid week of being at CHB together to realize "WAIT, YOU'RE THAT [PIPER/WILL]?!" One of their hobbies is going into the city and seeing if people will recognize them/if paparazzi will see them and making games out of it (who can ruin the most photos, what types of fake gossip can we get them trying to circulate, etc etc).

- I am a firm believer that Will is an extremely loud out-and-proud type of guy and has been for awhile (again see: him being a micro-celebrity) and he spearheads or runs a lot of pride stuff at CHB ever since he joined. If there is a pride parade/event at CHB he helps organize it. If there's a GSA club at CHB he is the head of it. He keeps pamphlets in the infirmary of queer educational material and guides to different identities and stuff and is very passionate about making people feel welcomed and comfortable. Because of this, when he found out Nico was from the 1930s and severely not up-to-date on terminology and stuff, he considered getting Nico up-to-date his greatest challenge yet. It was a personal quest for him. There was also definitely at least a week before that where Will thought Nico might be homophobic or something and was going "I CAN FIX HIM" before Nico managed to explain that no, he's... very supportive (muffled coughing coming from closet), he's just also extremely behind and doesn't know what any of those words mean, thanks. Will set up the most extensive queer crash course possible for him and poor Nico was just going "slow down please,,,," the entire time. Will gets him up mostly up to speed eventually. I just love Will being that type of guy who will start explaining misc queer history with citations at the drop of a hat. It is probably another hyperfixation of his.

- Will and Annabeth both consider Chiron an adoptive father-figure and joke about being siblings and which of them is the favorite child, cause they both know they're definitely Chiron's favorite campers. They both get him father's day cards/gifts.

[mediumgayitalian]

i was in the car today, and i started thinking about Lee and then i got really, really emotional

no dude i want to write about them so bad. i have character charts. if i can figure out how to draw (unlikely) i would have art. i have fic ideas. i want to delve into a whole ass universe of the pre-tlt apollo kids. so many of them…..

[riordanverserpdatabase]

Group Leaders:

Nico Di Angelo @king-of-the-ghosts

Hazel Levesque @gemstonequeen

Other Members

Demigods:

Reyna @reyna-dontcallmerara

Annabeth Chase @wise-girltm

Silena Beauregard @silenasblogies

Piper Mclean @miss-beauty-queen

Frank Zhang @iguanaurwayoutofhandcuffs

Zoe Nightshade @i-can-see-stars-again

Jason Grace @thalias-amazing-brother

Leo Valdez @fire-boy-official

Will Solace @i-love-neeks

Clarisse La Rue @official-drakon-slayer

Kayla Knowles @bestdemigodarcherever

Katie Gardener @kit-kat-flowers

Deities:

Artemis @my-sisters-and-the-moon

Amphitrite @the-elegant-sea-queen

Zeus @by-the-decree-of-my-bolt

Aphrodite @yes-im-aphrodite

Hades @yes-im-hades

Other Characters:

Grover Underwood @goat-boy-underwood

Naomi Solace @best-country-singer

This closed group DOES allow interactions with OCs, so feel free to message anyone you like if you are an OC account!

Please contact the group leaders to join this group officially!

[tsarinatorment]

Do you have any backstory headcanons for the other canon Apollo kids?

Not to the extent I did for Michael, but most of them I have at least something, yes!

Going in age order...

Will [disclaimer here that I do not consider TSATS canon; most of this contradicts the weird stuff TSATS tried to claim which didn't actually make any sense...] We know Apollo met Will's mother, Naomi Solace, in Austin, and I do headcanon that Will grew up there. Like most demigods, school wasn't fun for him, although Will was never actually in enough trouble that he got expelled - he was too much of a generally sweet kid for that, who got on well with the other kids in school. His home life was... fine. Naomi loves Will a lot, but trying to make ends meet with her music career whilst raising a son as a single mother was a lot (especially a son with ADHD and dyslexia) and Will often ended up not quite being given all the attention he needed at home.

However, we also know from canon that Will is an unusually powerful son of Apollo, so the monsters picked up on his scent much earlier than they usually do. His first attack was an entire hoard of snakes when he was seven, and with no-one else around close enough to intervene in time, Apollo snatched him away from the attack in person, before telling Naomi that it was probably time for Will to go to camp. She didn't protest, guiltily relieved that looking after Will wouldn't be on her shoulders anymore and that she could fully follow her music career again, and Will ended up at camp aged seven.

He remains a year-rounder because Naomi's career keeps her too busy to give him the attention and stability he should have, although they remain in frequent contact and Will has been known to leave camp for a weekend or even a week, occasionally, to stay with her while she's free between career commitments.

Austin Austin's mother, Latricia Lake, is a music theory lecturer (canon) who met Apollo while she was lecturing at Oberlin College (canon). I have her as being a guest lecturer, who moves around various colleges and universities on demand, which leaves her lifestyle rather an unstable one for raising a child. So instead of lugging around baby!Austin everywhere with her, Austin was mostly raised by his maternal grandparents (location not entirely certain but I'm kinda leaning towards Louisiana, maybe?) to give him a stable place to call home. He ended up at camp the same way most Apollo kids do - the snakes came crawling along and a satyr identified him as a demigod and brought him to camp. Austin got rather a nasty bite (or few) from the snakes on the way, which almost killed him, so his phobia of snakes is worse than most Apollo kids'. He arrived at camp in the period between BOTL and TLO, so he never knew Lee and was still a fresh camper for the Manhattan battle. He now stays at camp year-round because his grandparents are getting a little too old to really raise a hyperactive teenage boy, and Austin doesn't want to bring the added danger of monster attacks to them.

Kayla Kayla, as we know, has two fathers. She's one of the less common children of a male god who was birthed by their godly parent, but Apollo and Darren Knowles had several long conversations about it before she was conceived, because Apollo doesn't do the "drop random unexpected kids on partners" thing. Darren did really want a kid, though, and Apollo was more than happy to oblige. She calls Darren 'Da', while Apollo is 'Dad', and always knew that she had two fathers, and that her other father was an amazing archer. Darren kept her with him most of the time - Kayla's been around archery her entire life, has been shooting bows ever since she was big enough, and is well-known amongst the Olympic candidates in Canada, who are all eagerly awaiting her sixteenth birthday, when she can join their ranks - although they're a bit worried that now she's away at 'boarding school' in America, she's not getting as much training time (if only they knew!) She stays at camp all year because Darren's coaching career does take him across the country, and in some cases the world, to various tournaments, and it's safer and more stable for Kayla to live in one place. (Darren also tries not to let it reach her too much, but not everyone is particularly accepting of a girl with two fathers; she's also away from the bigotry in camp.) She will visit him as often as she can get away with, though!

Yan Yan is canonically from Hong Kong. As they're never given a gender in the books, to me they are nonbinary. They also don't have a canon surname, so I use 'Cheung', which has the same roots as Zhang and means archer! When they were twelve, their mother made the decision to evacuate them from Hong Kong due to the political unrest, and they went to live with a host family in England, enrolling in a local school. This was fine for a year, but then they found themselves being attacked by monsters and were forced to be displaced again, this time to Camp Half-Blood. Their host family knew nothing about them being a demigod - most of it was arranged by proxy of the mother of a kid the year below them in their London school. They later discovered that said kid was also their younger half-brother!

Jerry Jerry is a London kid (canon!). As 'Jerry' is usually a nickname, and considering the fact that he's British, I have his full name as being Jeremy (not that he ever goes by it) and gave him the surname Allen (meaning 'harmony'). Jerry's mum is a massive stress baker by the name of Gwen Allen. Her actual job is that she's a nurse - which is a stressful job, so Jerry was never short on homemade goodies as a kid! Jerry is a huge cricket fan, and grew up near Lords Cricket ground; his dream is to play for England one day. When he was twelve, he and an older kid at school were attacked by a monster and saved by the school's janitor, who was revealed to be a satyr. Jerry did not take well to the idea that he had to move to America for several years (not least because it meant he had to stop playing for the local kids' cricket teams, but also because it meant leaving his mum behind), but Gwen arranged everything with Chiron - and for Yan, too - and saw them off from Heathrow Airport. The pair of them were escorted by an adult demigod onto American soil, but unfortunately the last leg of their trip was rather eventful, culminating in the satyr guide that had picked them up at the airport being killed protecting them, and leaving both Jerry and Yan rather traumatised when they finally reached camp. The pair of them are thick as thieves.

Gracie I don't have much for Gracie yet - we know she's from Idaho, and at this point that's really all I've got, except the headcanon that she's a drum kid. Give her something to bash rhythmically and she's delighted! I'll work something out for her eventually, though! As for her name, like the rest of the TON trio we're not given one, so I gave her the surname 'Crowe' as an acknowledgement of corvids being sacred to Apollo.

[sapphicvqmpires]

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ Vampire Series | Shuri Udaku

✰ Masterlist ✰

Pairing - vampire!shuri x black fem!reader

✦ ˖*°࿐

✰ PART ONE - Who Are You?

— Sneak Peak - But she did not budge. Perched there, she observed you, and an increasing fear of her began to gnaw at you and Shuri seemed to sense this. She rose from her seat, advancing toward you, firmly placing her hands on the armrests of your chair as she hovered over you. Her lips were mere whispers away from yours, and the desire to both flee from and lean into her lips was a thin line in difference. You were torn between pushing her away and surrendering to the magnetic pull. Even though she had always held a certain dominance in your relationship, it was different now. It was hunter and hunted. Predator and prey. You felt so small, utterly defenseless, and you swallowed in anticipation, awaiting her next move

✰ PART TWO - Who Are We?

— Sneak Peak - You sat on the shore, watching the sunset painting the sky as the day gently faded away. Pastel hues glistened before your eyes, sparking a feeling of wonder and awe. It was a moment for contemplation, a brief respite from life's chaos where time appeared to stand still. As a vampire, you understood you would never have this experience again, and a part of you found solace in that. You were willing to relinquish these small, inherently human moments if it meant freedom from the limitations that came with being one

✰ PART THREE - Who Am I? coming soon…

✦ ˖*°࿐

Contains - smut (18+), angst, fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @shuriszn @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther @gardenof-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @marsology @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @ooglyboooglybitxh @sweetalittleselfish-honey (comment if you want to be added, 18+ only)

Writers Note: if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that I’m a vampire whore. I love everything, and anything vampires. I’ve been wanting to write vamp Shuri for a hot minute now and I’ve had this story planned out for months and I’m excited to finally bring her to life (and death, sorry for that lame joke, I just had to), but anyway, part 1 will be up before the end of the month. Thank you everyone for your patience and for supporting my work ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

Vampire Lore:

Powers Include:

Super Speed

Super Strength

Heightened Senses

Heightened Stamina

Heightened Durability

Telepathy

Dream Manipulation

Blood Tracking

Mind Control

Weaknesses Include:

Sunlight

Stake to the Heart

Decapitation

Starvation

To Become a Vampire:

Victim must be at the brink of death before the vampire turns them (turned by blood exchange). If the vampire turns the victim their self, while the victim is completely healthy, that victim will become attached to their maker (sired) until they learn to become their own

[ficsnships]

“Sometimes I forget you’ve been all over this continent,” said Nico. “I mean, I’ve been a lot of places, too, but mostly since coming to Camp Half-Blood. Do you ever miss traveling?”

“Occasionally,” said Will. “But I think it was more that I liked being with my mom. She has such an adventurous spirit. It’s hard not to feel the same way when you’re around her and she wants to go see the world’s biggest ball of twine or something.”

I love that Naomi Solace is a great mom, like I’ve always headcanon her to be. 🥹🥰

[mrkeatingsblazer]

Rick should make a pjo universe short story book.

Like pair up random characters with a member of the Seven and have them go on stupid quests and just do teenage things.

My favourite one I’ve thought of is Will and Leo going on a road trip to Austin to see Naomi preform. Will was gonna take Nico but Leo caught whiff of the fact he had two tickets and basically begged to go (I headcanon Leo LOVES country music, Naomi Solaces no.1 stan fr). Leo ends up building a fucking truck and is like “ROADTRIP❗️” Will is just like “huh” because he was low-key either gonna get Nico to shadow travel them or cash in his son of Apollo privileges and get him to drive them via the sun chariot.

The whole thing would just be a country filled shitshow and it would be amazing. They’d find themselves in a dance hall, Leo would get flung around on a mechanical bull and Will starts line dancing (of course they found themselves in a thrift shop before this after somehow destroying their clothes and they would buy cowboy boots and hats). A funny little moment would happen of a girl hitting on Will and he’s like “I have a boyfriend!!” And Leo just appears after winning the bull riding record and jumps into a hug with Will and the girl is just like “Awh sorry I didn’t know! You two are such a cute couple” and walks away leaving them flabbergasted.

They’d obviously have to fight a few monsters and maybe an enemy of one of there fathers(I can’t think of one that hasn’t already been defeated, maybe Geryon?!?). Both of them would be running around losing their shit bc neither of them are big fighters but Leo goes into his belt and starts tinkering and he just yells to Will who’s trying to hold the enemy back “Apollo kids have a good shot right” and Will’s like “Yeah but I’m not the best a-“ and Leo just throws something at him and says “shoot this!!!” And will just looks down and he’s holding a fucking gun that has celestial bronze bullets and he just blindly shoots and defeats the monster on his first shot leading him to realise that he has brilliant aim with a gun.This would send him spiralling for a page bc what do you mean he has good aim?!? He’s been horrendous with a bow all these years and all he needed was a gun to activate that power?!?

They would end up at the concert and have a blast (Leo 100% starts crying, Naomi is his Beyoncé) but Naomi would finish a song and invite a special guess out and out comes fucking Apollo. They would sing a duet (islands in the stream or smth idfk) and Will is just shocked. I feel like he would get a little sad and Leo’s just like “bruh you good?” through his own tears and Will just opens up and is like “ they seem so happy together, I wish I grew up with both of them” and Leo just hugs him as they watch Apollo and Naomi sing their hearts out on stage.

Sorry the Will and Leo Texas solidarity/bromance gets to me fr.

But like seriously this would be such a great idea!! Imagine Frank and Clarisse or Piper and Nico going on a random adventure together. It would be so chaotic.