#superior Jason Grace

[bookworm-2000]

I really just saw a post that said Percy would beat Jason in a sword fight unless Jason dropped to all fours and went absolutely feral.

Like bitch?

Please. (In the nicest way possible ❤️)

My baby’s been training since he was two years old. You think CJ would accept anything less than complete perfection??

Yeah, no.

Jason would /cream/ Percy in a fight, with or without their powers, which EVERYBODY would know if Rick had written Jason to his full potential ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you for coming to my TED talk xx

[somewhereincairparavel]

i will forever be confused over how people ship brason. Jason made out with a stapler at TWO years old, it was his first love. The stapler left a permanent mark on jason's lip, if that isn't romantic idk what is. Stapler x Jason supremacy >>>>>

[int3r3st1ng]

HOO

Since the series has brought the PJO books back to life, I was suddenly struck that I needed to get this off my chest.

I read the HOO books years ago, after the PJO books as well, and I liked them. Unfortunately, there were many parts I disliked.

This post will probably infuriate so many people and I will be referencing to future books, but I'm not interested in angering you, I'm more interested in what your opinion is after reading mine.

Don't write hate comments and don't strart hating my opinion just because I don't have the same one as you.

Battle with Gaea:

This was the biggest let down.

The battle with Kronos was gorgeous. It was beautiful with a great build up and so many emotions. I adored that entire battle. It literally lives on an invincible throne in my head.

I had high hopes for the battle with Gaea, after all she is more powerful than Kronos, right? It must be harder to defeat her, right? She has to fall to storm or fire, right?

Wrong!

Piper, don't worry I like her character, has so much dam power in her charm speak that she can put a primordial goddess to sleep. Unfortunately, I explicitly remember the prophecy not even mentioning her.

"To storm or fire, the world must fall"

Then Leo and Jason were fire and storm, but I'm pretty sure that "Stormbringer" is Poseidon's title. I get that Percy isn't always meant to be the hero, but he learnt that lesson. He wasn't the hero in his own book series. He stepped back in the Mark of Athena so Annabeth could be the hero. He knew that he couldn't always be the hero, so why did Rick make his arc be he has to learnt he isn't always the hero?

To be honest, I think that if Rick had written it that Piper didn't lull the goddess to sleep, but the seven all fought together again, that would have been better. Imagine the seven all working together. Imagine Percy and Jason creating a storm together. Imagine Leo ending Gaea in one fiery end.

It is honestly such a shame that nothing can shine on this fight, not when it will always live in the shadow of an undefeatable throne.

Ships:

(Not exactly sorry for what I say)

Percabeth, although cute, is not a perfect ship. They are not the "It" couple and they most certainly not what I would look for in a relationship. I don't want a girlfriend/boyfriend who gives me a nickname that constantly downgrades my intelligence. I don't want a gf/bf who judo flips me onto hard gravel. I most certainly don't want a bf/gf that is scared of me. I don't hate Percabeth, but Percy and Annabeth deserve better. Percy deserves someone that he knows he can talk to about Gabe while Annabeth, even if Percy chose her and gave her love, first needs familial love before romantic love.

Jasper/Jiper, was so bad. Jason got with Piper out of duty and they did break up in the end, but Rick got them to get together in one book. Secondly, Piper is so possessive and obssessive. I don't hate either characters, I just feel that Leo x Jason would have been a much better ship because at least Leo doesn't have fake relationship memories. For Piper, I would give her a girl. First, they would complete the quest then Piper settles down with a girl, like Rick did in Trials of Apollo, which I'm really happy about.

Frazel is cute. I thought the ship was adorable, but once again it felt like Rick was focusing on ships too much. They've known each other for two-three months and are dating by the end of a week. Not how I would plan that. I once again think that them getting through the entire quest would have been much better.

Caleo, in my opinion, is the worst. Leo wanted romantic love to fill the void he felt due to his lack of familial love. Why the hell did Rick think that giving him a love interest was a good idea?! Leo felt like the seventh wheel so Rick should've fixed that by, like, making the other seven want him around. You know, like a family? As for Calypso, I believe she should have either joined the Hunt or she was an asexual lesbian. Either way, I believe she would want to experience the real world before trying a relationship.

Solangelo was, quite frankly, my least favourite. Look, I love Nico and Will. Both are cool characters with so much potential, but it once again felt rushed. It felt wrong that Rick had Nico get over Percy only to get with Will like a week later. Secondly, Will and Nico didn't fit like yin yang. I know you're all thinking "Hey! That's my ship you're sinking!", but you have to admit that Will saying that the loneliness Nico felt at camp was fake. Nico was literally avoided because of his dad. The hell you mean, Will? I believe, Will and Nico shouldn't have gotten together. Nico should have gotten with someone else while Will explored his bi-ness.

Friendships:

There were so many friendship potentials.

Percy and Leo 1. Percy's burn proof-ish 2. Sass 3. Literally both met Calypso so why did Leo hate Percy when he left for the same reason? 4. Should've talked it out and figured it out 5. Bonded over having excellent mothers

Nico and Percy 1. Rick you butchered this entire relationship 2. Percy did trust Nico and had this relationship that essentialy said "The only person who gets to kill Nico is me" and even then Percy wouldn't have killed Nico 3. Took a dam prophecy to save Nico 4. Saved each other's lives 5. Deal with shared trauma 6. Like, cousins? You gave Nico and Jason time, can you please give Percy and Nico some time. They deserve to talk things over and figure things out 7. Percy did what he could for Nico to stay at Camp 8. Percy's response to Nico's accidental trick was completely fair because would you trust the guy who said they would help you but (accidentally, which Percy didn't know) led you to a death trap? 9. Top two most powerful demigods 10. Literally my fav characters (until the Nico fanbase made Nico feel so overrated, still love him though)

Leo and Annabeth 1. Two badass geniuses 2. Two book smart people on a giant boat 3. Both searching for love (Annabeth was hurt by her family and Leo lost his) 4. ADHD madman and ADHD Annabeth "Stay up till 5AM to work" Chase 5. Where was the friendship between the smartypants?

There are more but these are my top 3 platonic relationships that Rick would have explored.

Thanks for reading! You can say your opinion, but no hate comments.

[levforfakes]

that most gorgeous brown eyes/staring into your soul meme but its leo and jason

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

One of the things which really annoys me about Dick Grayson’s characterisation by both DC and the fandom is how they treat his being Romani (I say this as a gypsy from the circus myself) also before people cancel me for saying gypsy - I am not American and it’s not a slur where I am from. I am a gypsy myself so please don’t freak out about my using this term which feels comfortable and accurate to me

I know this is a common complaint, but being a gypsy or Romani is such a niche ethnic identity, and so often I see people treat it almost like a nationality. For example, the idea that Dick Grayson grew up not knowing English is so bizarre to me… of course he knew English, he may be Romani and speak it, but he is also American. The shopkeeper who he is buying food from doesn’t speak Romani, nor do the local authorities whose permission we need to even put on a circus/fair, so it makes sense that he’d speak English to them. He works in the circus: his family’s livelihood depended on his being able to draw a crowd - if he can’t interact with the people he’s taking the money from, how does he expect to make it in what is essentially a customer service job (I speak from experience here). Also, historically, by the late 18th century, the vast majority of Romani-speaking gypsies also spoke another language as a first language, and by the 20th century, I could argue that this is about 99.99999% of us, if not all.

The other thing I often see is how Dick Grayson is portrayed as being the Bristol-raised kid who doesn’t understand Jason’s Crime Alley upbringing. And yeah, whilst Dick lived with Bruce from a young age, and might (even based on his personality) have a better chance of mixing with the rich kids, let’s not act like Dick didn’t know struggle as a kid. Even if his parents were fairly comfortable economically, he spent at least half the year living in a trailer/vardo, which people associate with being working class. All gypsy kids are taught to fight from a very young age because whenever we pull on somewhere to open (aka put on the show), we expect a hell of a lot of racism from the locals, which often included getting jumped, often by multiple older gadja/gorja/non-gypsy children - and hell, even adults! As well as knowing how to defend ourselves, this also leads to a lot us developing a bit of a defence mechanism wherein we can talk ourselves out of a situation, or endear ourselves to people quickly in the first place so we don’t get fighting (keeping us safe, and keeping us in the good graces of the locals so we can continue earning a living there) - perhaps this could be explored as part of the reasoning behind the famous Dick Grayson charm? Anyway, all this to say, Dick would fully understand what it’s like to be the poor outsider who has to fight at every corner just to exist, and justifying his existence to others who view themselves as his ‘superiors’.

My final complaint is a small one: every single gypsy I know grows up absolutely BELTING Cher’s ‘Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves’ and the fact that I’ve not seen Dick pouring his heart into that song, screaming the words ‘I was born in the wagon of a travelling show’ is honestly a hate crime which must be fixed immediately.

[stove-top96]

Water Colour Eyes

Chapter 01

Y Batfam x Gn Reader

Featuring: platonic Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (no Jason in this chapter)

2.3k words

Im very new to tumblr and was recently inspired by @acid-ixx to try writing my own story, please go easy on me but any and all advice will be greatly appreciated. (Im still trying to figure out how this app works but I know the basics). The only knowledge I have of working in a restaurant is bistro huddy.

Rubbing your temples you could just feel the headache forming. It was going to be one of those shifts, the kind that drags on and on. Standing behind the hostess stand shuffling through the reservation book scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Flipping through the pages only pausing once you spot his name “Bruce Wayne”. That name became a fixture in the book, always booking at 6:30 and specifically requesting you as his server. Within the past 2 months he’s definitely become your regular, and although he is technically your only regular, he just has a certain quality that sets him apart from your co-workers regulars. Sure he’s a pleasure to have as a customer, always punctual, kind, and very generous with the tips. There’s just something you can’t quite place your finger on, he tends to get a little personal. He started calling you by your first name, and always asked you about your life. But you’ve always chalked it up to him being a ditzy guy who’s never been told no. Even if he carries himself with a certain air, alluding that he knows much more than he lets on. it seems like no one else questions it, so why should you? Regardless, his tips were good enough to let him call you by your name and ask you about your personal life.

La Vie Royale was always busy on Fridays. Swarming with creeps who always stared too long, and buzzing with heiresses who always had something to complain about. For being Gothams richest they almost never tipped well, and when they did it was some lonely wealthy old weirdo on a date with their sugar baby. Co-workers weren’t much help either, specifically the superiors always criticizing and critiquing never bothering to hide the contempt in their voices when speaking. The Kitchen was like another world, one you weren’t welcome in. The other servers stayed in their lane, and always kept to each other. That’s what it’s like for every newbie who somehow snatches Gothams richest billionaire for a regular. The only saving grace was the hostesses who, like you, were at the bottom of the La Vie Royale food chain.

Glancing at the clock reading 5:47, plenty of time to mentally prepare for dealing with Albertine while you serve the playboy billionaire. Albertine was possibly the worst manager for the night, she’d always get so on edge when she’d find out he was dining here for the evening. Glancing over and you can see her talking to one of the other servers, eyes locked on you. God, you could just feel that headache getting worse, and after a long day of classes you pray he’d be a no show for once. Wishful thinking though, the best you can hope for is getting through this shift without a lecture. Rather than contemplating how dreadful this shift will be at the hostess stand, you might as well look busy and get a head start on your side work.

Once the minute hand hit 30 like clock work, Bruce Wayne walked in. Smiling at the familiar face of the regular, this time he wasn’t alone. Three young men walked in right after. Raising an eyebrow, they were clearly in the same party. Why didn’t his assistant say he’d have guests when they booked him the reservation? Looking more closely at the boys it’s clear they also have that odd quality in common with Mr Wayne. One looked barely out of high school, and had been scrolling on his phone with a smirk on his face. The youngest, likely in middle school, had an aura that demanded a respect unfit for his age. The oldest, probably in his mid twenties, seemed to have a natural charm to him. You had always known Wayne had his fair share of children, he talked about them often although you could never put a name to a face.

“Wow Mr Wayne, you finally brought some guests with you today” you tease as you greet the group and check them in for their reservation. you hear a chuckle and glance up to see Bruce’s smile, it’s warm and reaches his eyes. “Well I figured it was about time I took my kids out with me”. Giving a polite nod and smiling as he introduces his kids. “I see, your table will ready in a few minutes, we didn’t expect you to bring any guests tonight” Mr Wayne huffs eyeing the oldest “I apologize it was a last minute change in plans, Dick was visiting and insisted on going out” The oldest Dick chimes in “you’ll still be able to fit us in right?” His voice is calm, like he knows the answer and just wants you to hear you talk. “ I’m sure we can, I’ll just have to go clear the table” eyes glued to the reservation book, moving some other reservations around to accommodate the new change. Something a restaurant as refined as La Vie Royale would never do, although Albertine and every other superior insisted that Mr Wayne be accommodated in any way possible. He brought good press, and according to a rumour amongst the staff he even considered buying it a while back. Giving the group a polite nod as you rush off, to clear the other tables. Missing the brief dejected look on the oldest boy's face.

Albertine noticing the Wayne family standing alone makes a beeline towards them. “Have you been helped yet?” She asks in a voice the family could only describe as sickly sweet. “Yes our server is just clearing the table” Tim’s voice monotone, not even bothering to glance up from his phone. Albertine pauses, eyes widening for a split second then back to the false smile “I see” she says as if contemplating something before walking away, sending a sharp glare in your direction as she does. The interaction not going unnoticed by the Wayne’s. “you will be at fault if they get reprimanded” Damian pipes up glaring at Tim. Staring down at the younger Wayne, “she’ll find something to get mad at tonight no matter what” he argues back, knoe he doesn’t have the best excuse. A small feeling of guilt starts to bubble in his chest. Tim realized his slip up too late. It's likely you’ll get yelled at for keeping such “prestigious guests waiting” once they’ve finished with their meal. Glancing at Dick’s and Bruce’s faces, it’s clear they’re planning ways to ease the consequences you’ll likely face later tonight. Tim glances back down to Damian only to find his glare still present.

“Thank you for your patience” your voice pulls them out of their trance, calming down the rising tension. It reminds them of why they came tonight, to see you. Oblivious to their true intentions you smile, grabbing the menus “follow me”. As you lead them to their table Bruce and Tim make note of how many others are sitting in your section for the night, some of them they recognize from galas others are unimportant. however your section is completely full. Finally reaching their table, it isn’t Bruce’s normal table much to his disdain; he doesn't have the vantage point to subtly watch over you. Although one thing he can see from his seat is that horrid woman glaring at you, waiting for the chance to take you away from them only just to scold you. After dropping off the menus and giving a rundown of the night's specials, you leave telling them you’ll be back in a few minutes for their orders. As you walk away Bruce notices your manager snapping with her hands and glaring at you with that permanent scowl on her face. She motions for you to follow her to the back.

After witnessing that interaction the boys are only left to imagine what she’s yelling at you about. Most of the family members are able to hide their contempt after seeing your manager's rude behaviour, the witch’s actions will likely dictate the mood for the rest of the night. Dick is the only one visibly upset, Blüdhaven has been so chaotic recently getting to see you tonight had been the only thing that kept him from falling apart. Now because that wicked witch of the waste is on some power trip, whatever lecture she’s giving you right now will weigh on you the whole night, leaving you to be even more reserved than you already are. How is he supposed to be a good brother to you if you don't let him in?,The rest of the family comes to a similar conclusion. It's clear that this job environment is an unhealthy one, they would rather you work somewhere else, or better yet not at all. The only reason they’ve allowed you to work here for so long is because it’s the most practical way to grow closer to you. Once they’re further along with the plan, you won’t ever have to step foot in this place again.

“Sorry about the wait” your voice soft, eyes not meeting theirs, face carrying a faint frustration. their prediction clearly came to fruition, much to the family’s displeasure. “What can I get y’all to drink” you smile, attempting to remain composed as you take their orders. A quality of yours the family admired, although they often wished you’d take your mask off and allow yourself to be vulnerable around them. But for now they’re your guests, not your family. Writing down their order smiling the same forced smile “perfect I’ll be right back with those” once again walking away. “Why can’t that women understand they’re not meant to handle that much pressure, it’s absurd how she expects them to perform optimally now” Damian voices his opinion, his expression unreadable to most but it’s evident to the family he’s unbelievably angry at just how much you let that women affect you. “Why can’t you just fire her, it would make our baby bird's life much easier” Dick who is also in aggrence, his protectiveness evident in his voice. Dick’s question goes unanswered. Truthfully even if some of the family tries to dénie it, the reason they kept all these horrible coworkers around you was selfish. They wanted to push you to your limits, before they swooped in to save you.

3 minutes is the standard time for a table to wait for drinks. However with the Waynes your managers instilled into the whole staff that they never wait for a table, 1 minute 50 seconds is their standard for drinks and 25 minutes for food. With Albertine breathing down your neck, having 4 other tables to attend too, and a pounding headache. there’s not much keeping you from breaking down. The only thing you want right now is your bed, but that won’t happen for at least another 4 hours depending on when you're cut. At least Roa clocks in at 7:00, which is in roughly 10 minutes. Finishing off the drinks with Bruce’s red wine, you push down your stress and prepare to head over. “Here you go” you place everyone’s respective drinks in front of them. “Is everyone ready to order” hand instivily reaching for your notebook, but remembering what Albertine told you in the back “if you want to look somewhat professional at least memorize their orders, no notepad” you stop yourself, and pray they don’t order anything too complicated. “I’ll have the 8oz steak, medium rare” Burce’s order wouldn’t be a problem, he always got the same thing. “Can I get the Coq au vin” the oldest boy orders, who you’re pretty sure is dick. Tim goes next “I’ll get the boeuf bourguignon”, he has a satisfied smirk, probably because he has the best pronunciation so far. “may I have the ratatouille” The youngest orders, clearly annoyed by his brother’s antics. “Perfect I’ll go ring those in”, mumbling their orders to yourself as you ring them in, thankful they didn’t ask for any accommodations or changes you should be able to remember them just fine.

“They won’t make a mistake will they?” Dick asks, stressed at the fact they didn’t grab their notebook. “They shouldn’t, although if you ordered what you originally wanted they definitely would have” Bruce’s answer’s straight to the point. Although there’s a subtle praise in his wording, appreciating how they eased your workload. “It’s despicable just how much they're overworking them here” Damian's scowl seems to be permanent as he watches you attend to other tables, he knows it’s your job but they’re the Waynes they should be the only table you attend to tonight. That good for nothing manager who cares far too much about their opinion can’t even get that one thing right. “You got that right, and with how the night’s going I bet they’ll only check on us two times, three if we’re lucky” Tim’s voice piss’s Damian off even more, even if it is in agreement. “You don’t actually mean that” Dick pipes in,his voice radiating a sense of distress. “Of course I do, look at them. barely keeping it together” Tim points out. It’s true the tension in your shoulders is evident and your mask is already slipping, the worst part there’s almost nothing they can do besides tip you. Although even that doesn’t feel like enough. The server’s here tip out not only to the hostesses and busboys but also to the back, additionally you all have to pool your tips and split them evenly amongst the staff. This fact does nothing but motivate the Waynes to get you out of here as soon as possible.

23 minutes tick by, as the Wayne family watches you talk to other customers, complete your side work, and narrowly avoid another scolding from that damn manager. It bothers them that Tim was right, accepting that tonight is just an evening of observing you rather than growing slightly closer. It's moments like these that makes Bruce wish his name wasn’t as influential as it is. Thankfully you approach them once again with their meals. Although, the stress on your face is more prominent than earlier, the smile is even more forced, with the way you carry yourself you’re clearly being pushed to the limits. “Here you all go” even your voice sounds so much more tired, compared to when you were greeting them. At least you got their order right, not that any of them would say anything if you didn’t. “Anything else I can grab you?” You ask, so considerate they really should be the ones taking care of you, but all in due time. “I believe we’ll be alright” Bruce replies, not wanting you to strain yourself even more.

Only approaching them once as they ate, only to ask them if everything was to their liking. They knew it was protocol to ask each table that question, but they still wished you’d approach them, and initiate a conversation about anything but the food. As they ate in silence it’s clear tonight they didn’t make as much progress as they’d like. Maybe Bruce should have kept these outings to himself for a little longer. Or perhaps they should go on a day Jacques is the manager, he tends to be somewhat more lenient. Whatever the case may be this evening has been bittersweet for the entire family, and they’ll plan accordingly for next week to make up for the lost progress. Because that’s what family does for each other, they go above and beyond.

Next

[willczek-art]

NPMD Tarot - The Hierophant

Others from the series: The Devil, The Lovers, The Star, Strength, The World

Symbolism + some WIP/alternatives are under the cut C:

My intuition put Grace as the High Priestess, but from what I've read it's more about spirituality and intuition, while the Hierophant is all about strong traditional beliefs and ruling/leading, so it fits her way better! :D

Left side/Beginning has the dance cancellation sign, since that was her mission and Max was her first victim, while on the right/Ending is Jason and the Black Book, her mission and source of power has changed.

Halo= superiority, holy mission, Red as a sign of danger/death to come (which is why the light it's only on the boys)

She's sitting on what's supposed to be the bleachers C:

Doodles:

[sacrifical-lamb-core]

Jason Graces first quest was when he was 6. He went with two, much older demigods.

They made his life hell, angry that this kid, this weird, still sorta feral kid who so desperately wanted their approval was with them, hindering them. Jason still wasn’t perfect, wasn’t polished enough and people expected more from a son of Jupiter, even if he was the age of your average 1st grader. But they also hated how Jason got a quest only 2 years after showing up at Camp, most people never got that lucky. He’d probably get many more. They sneered at him, guessed he was lapping up the attention . What kid wouldn’t want to be given such special treatment?

They pushed him around, left him as monster bait, and anytime he did something good (which was often) they laughed about how they were going to take the credit. Any failure was blamed on him.

Jason felt weird about it. They were his superior, and talking against them was breaking the rules. The wolf house and camp Jupiter both agreed that rules were essential and Jason had to follow them. But this felt so, so unfair. He was used to unfair though, used to older kids using him as a punching bag. It happened all the time, for 2 years. He didn’t know if the wolf house was any better. But this was what happened to sons of Jupiter, right? He was meant to be strong.

But it was hard… so hard. He wasn’t going to nope, or cry, Lupa lurked in his brain and snarled and bit whenever he tried. Lupa lived in his head and kept him in line, that’s what it felt like. The memory of the wolf house acting like a guard.

The quest was successful, and all three of them were heroes. Jason was told that many more quests were to come. This is how you make a hero. A hero of Olympus and a worthy son. A worthy champion.

You can’t make a hero child without rebuilding. This rebuilding requires breakage.

[prlssprfctn]

Being Robin is an art, in a way. It is hard, and it is always about keeping a balance — being graceful as a cat and yet, hold a power of a lion. Being flashy in all these colourful patterns and, at the same time, completely invisible for enemies.

When Bruce picks up Jason, he thinks he will need some extra training. He doesn't expect Jason, a street kid, to have the same mannerism Dick, the child of the circus, had. And he doesn't - not fully, at least - but the way Jason just... disappears in a way, making himself stealthy and invisible, is incredible. It is natural.

(It is... a talent?)

He is so great that sometimes Alfred and Bruce don't notice him until he wants them to notice him!

'You are good at this, chump,' Bruce compliments him once.

Jason tilts his head, seemingly confused.

'Huh?'

'Enemies never notice you, despite how bright your suit is,' Bruce points out proudly. 'Even I fail to find you in the room sometimes.'

Jason lets out a quiet "a-ah" in realisation and just shrugs.

He is always so humble, this kid.

Red Hood is not exactly humble. He knows his worth. He doesn't fail to remind others of his superior trainings or to mock the weakness of his enemies. But even he refuses to accept this exact compliment.

Why, though? He is tall, bulky — double-fridge, really — and his armour is bright red, and still... and still, people fail to notice his presence most of the time. Isn't it just great?

'Despite how huge you are, you are stealthy enough to match the style of my assassins,' Talia tells him; she is not exactly as beaming as Bruce was, but there is still a hint of respect in her voice. 'It is impressive. Though, I don't appreciate being caught off the guard.'

Jason huffs.

'Yeah, alright. Put a bell on my neck or something — it is not like I am trying to scare you.'

Talia tilts her head but doesn't comment further.

At that moment, Jason fears she knows. She knows exactly why he never accepts these kinds of compliments or where this skill comes from.

'You know, when I first got into Robin suit, Bruce said that he knew someone, who was as good at being invisible on the streets as me,' Stephanie tells him once, when they sit on the coach of the living room, waiting for others to return from the kitchen. 'Never figured out he was talking about you until I saw you scaring the shit out of others by your random appearances.'

Jason hums.

'Crime Alley kids' thing, am I right?' She elbows him, half-amused, half-bitter.

And Jason thinks, yeah. Exactly that.

Because it was never natural for him to take no place in the world — he just taught himself how to. How to make no sound, how not to irritate some men, who gradually got drunker during the day, while passing by the same streets, how to keep himself safe by being an empty space. People can't get angry if they don't see you. They can't kick you out, either.

(He perfected this skill so much that at some point he embraced this emptiness, right after his death. So, maybe it was his fault that Bruce scrapped away everything that was left of him, maybe-)

'Let them think that it is a talent,' he advises, instead.

Whatever makes you look valuable enough, his inner voice adds helpfully. Whatever makes you special to be kept around.

'Yeah. Sounds good to me.'

Jason hasn't lived on the streets for decades now, but he never grew up its habits. He doesn't think he ever will.

And it is... fine.

Because that is just who he is. Who he always was.

[novaursa]

Flames in the West (a marriage and a lannister)

- Summary: During the royal hunt in honor of Aegon's second nameday, you insult a lion and gain his attention.

- Pairing: trag!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: a sad lion

- Next part: a proud lion

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The courtyard of the Red Keep was a whirlwind of banners, fine carriages, and knights in gleaming armor. At the center of it all stood Lord Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, who was charged with the unenviable task of greeting each arrival. His sharp eyes scanned the line of approaching carriages with the efficiency of a man accustomed to tedious obligations.

But even Otto wasn’t prepared for the arrival of House Lannister.

The first sign of their approach was the resounding blast of horns. Not one or two, but at least a dozen golden trumpets heralded their entrance, echoing across the courtyard and turning heads in every direction.

“Oh, gods,” Otto muttered under his breath, already suspecting who was responsible for the fanfare.

Moments later, the gilded Lannister carriage rolled into view, its wheels polished to a blinding shine and pulled by a team of pristine white horses adorned with crimson plumes. The Lannister sigil—an enormous roaring lion—was emblazoned on the doors, glinting in the sunlight as though to declare its superiority over every other house present.

Jason Lannister, naturally, was the first to emerge, stepping out with the practiced ease of a man who knew he looked good. His attire was a masterpiece of crimson and gold embroidery, and his golden hair practically sparkled under the midday sun. He turned to offer his hand to you, his wife, who accepted it with a regal grace that belied your amusement at the spectacle.

You descended from the carriage in a gown that shimmered like molten silver, embroidered with subtle accents of red and gold to signify both your Targaryen and Lannister heritage. Your silver hair was artfully arranged, and the faintest smirk tugged at your lips as you caught the subtle twitch of Otto Hightower’s jaw.

Behind you, a retinue of Lannister knights dismounted in perfect unison, their crimson cloaks billowing dramatically in the breeze. Servants scurried to unload chests of gifts while the horns sounded again, as though the first round hadn’t made enough of an impression.

“Lord Jason,” Otto said as he stepped forward, his tone polite but clipped. “Princess Y/N. Welcome to King’s Landing.”

Jason grinned, bowing slightly but with enough flair to make it clear he thought himself an equal to the Hand. “Lord Otto! A pleasure to be here. I trust our arrival wasn’t too… overwhelming?”

Otto’s eyes flicked to the trumpeters, still lingering nearby as though waiting for another cue. “It was certainly… memorable.”

Jason beamed. “Good. That was the intent.”

Otto turned his attention to you, inclining his head. “Princess. It’s an honor to welcome you back to the Red Keep.”

“Thank you, Lord Otto,” you replied, your voice calm and measured. “It’s good to see the capital again.”

“And to bring a lion with you,” Otto added, glancing pointedly at Jason.

“Ah, but not just any lion,” Jason interjected, stepping closer with his characteristic charm. “A lion with a dragon by his side. Surely a sight to behold, wouldn’t you agree?”

Otto’s smile tightened, though his tone remained diplomatic. “It is… certainly unique.”

Behind you, Martyn Lannister leaned toward one of the knights, muttering, “Unique? That’s the kindest way to describe this circus.”

Jason, oblivious to the quieter commentary, turned to the growing crowd of onlookers. “A fine gathering of lords and ladies! I must say, the Red Keep has outdone itself. Though,” he added, glancing around theatrically, “it could use a touch of something more.”

You elbowed him lightly, your smirk widening. “Behave, Jason.”

He grinned, leaning closer to murmur, “Never.”

As Otto led you and Jason toward the entrance of the Red Keep, Jason couldn’t resist continuing his commentary.

“I must say, Lord Otto,” Jason began, gesturing around the courtyard, “the arrangements are splendid. Though I do hope the feast matches the grandeur of our arrival.”

Otto shot him a sidelong glance. “I’m sure it will meet your expectations, Lord Jason.”

“I’m sure it will, too,” Jason replied breezily. “After all, nothing but the best for my dear sister-in-law.”

You shook your head, though you couldn’t entirely hide your amusement. “Jason, must you antagonize everyone we meet?”

“It’s not antagonizing,” Jason said with a grin. “It’s making an impression.”

“And what impression do you think you’ve made on Lord Otto?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jason tilted his head, pretending to think. “That House Lannister knows how to arrive in style.”

Martyn, who had caught up to you by now, chuckled. “And here I thought the lions were the loudest thing about this family.”

As the Lannister retinue finally moved inside the Red Keep, whispers and laughter rippled through the crowd left behind.

“Did you see the carriage?” one lady murmured to her companion. “It looked like it belonged in a legend.”

“And the trumpets,” another said, giggling. “I half-expected a bard to jump out and sing his praises.”

Otto, still in the courtyard and watching the Lannisters disappear into the castle, let out a long sigh. “Why do the gods test me so?”

One of the stewards beside him coughed. “Perhaps because you always rise to the occasion, my lord.”

Otto shot him a withering look. “Or because they enjoy seeing me suffer.”

Back inside, Jason walked beside you with a swagger that bordered on absurd, whispering, “We’ll be the talk of the wedding. Just you wait.”

You shook your head, though your smirk hadn’t entirely faded. “We already are, Jason. For better or worse.”

“Better,” Jason declared confidently, his self-assured grin firmly in place. “Always better.”

The Lannisters had been shown to their chambers in the Red Keep, a sprawling series of interconnected rooms overlooking the Blackwater Bay. The sunlight streamed through the tall windows, glinting off the crimson-and-gold banners the servants had hastily hung to make the family feel more at home. Jason, ever the gracious lord, immediately began inspecting the accommodations as though he were the one hosting.

“These chambers will do,” Jason declared, running a hand over the polished oak table. “Though I must say, a few more lion sigils wouldn’t hurt.”

Behind him, Tyland Lannister entered the room, his measured steps and sharp gaze a stark contrast to Jason’s dramatic flair. He carried an air of cool amusement, as though he had been expecting this exact scene to unfold.

“Jason,” Tyland said, his voice dry, “must you always critique the Red Keep as though you own it?”

Jason turned, grinning. “I’m not critiquing. I’m offering suggestions. It’s called improving the ambiance.”

“Improving,” Tyland echoed, setting down a satchel with a pointed glance at the lavish furnishings. “The royal palace. Of course.”

Meanwhile, you were busy adjusting your cloak, preparing to leave the chamber. Jason caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately turned his attention to you.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stepping closer.

“To greet my sister,” you replied, smoothing the fabric over your shoulder. “I’d like to see her before the festivities begin.”

Jason frowned slightly. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” you said firmly, though there was a faint smile on your lips. “You’ll only cause a scene. Stay here and make sure Tyland doesn’t redecorate in your absence.”

Jason sighed dramatically, but Tyland chuckled. “Don’t worry, my lady,” he said, inclining his head. “I’ll keep him in check.”

You gave Tyland an approving nod before glancing back at Jason. “Try not to antagonize everyone you meet.”

Jason placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “When have I ever done that?”

“Every day since I’ve known you,” you said without missing a beat, earning a laugh from Tyland as you swept out of the room.

As the door closed behind you, Jason turned to Tyland, gesturing grandly at the room. “So, what do you think? A bit drab, but we can work with it.”

Tyland ignored the question, settling into one of the plush chairs by the hearth. “Never mind the drapes, Jason. How did the trip go? I’d imagine a pregnant wife doesn’t make for the easiest traveling companion.”

Jason’s expression shifted immediately, softening into something resembling concern. “She handled it well,” he said, though his tone betrayed a hint of lingering worry. “I made sure she was comfortable the entire way.”

Tyland raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Comfortable? You, the man who insisted on a carriage gilded in gold and a parade of trumpets to announce your arrival?”

“That was for us,” Jason said defensively, crossing his arms. “For her, I made sure we stopped frequently, kept the best blankets, and even sent riders ahead to arrange the finest accommodations.”

Tyland smirked. “And let me guess—she found all of that unnecessary.”

Jason sighed, sinking into the chair opposite his brother. “She’s impossible to please sometimes. She even complained about the carriage.”

“What about the carriage?” Tyland asked, genuinely curious.

“She said it was too shiny,” Jason said, throwing up his hands. “Too shiny! Who complains about that?”

Tyland chuckled, shaking his head. “Your wife is a Targaryen, Jason. She rides a dragon. Do you think she cares about shiny carriages?”

Jason huffed, leaning back. “I was just trying to make her comfortable.”

“And yet, she still made it here without strangling you,” Tyland quipped. “That’s an accomplishment.”

Jason shot him a look, though there was no real malice in it. “She appreciates my efforts. Deep down.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Tyland said, his tone light with amusement. “And I’m sure she also appreciates how you hovered over her like a worried septa.”

“I did not hover,” Jason protested, though his tone lacked conviction.

“You absolutely hovered,” Tyland said with a grin. “I can already see it—you fretting over every bump in the road, asking her if she’s comfortable every five minutes.”

Jason opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. “Alright, maybe I hovered a little,” he admitted, running a hand through his golden hair. “But can you blame me? She’s carrying my child, Tyland. I just want her to be safe.”

Tyland’s grin softened into something closer to a smile. “It’s good to see you taking this seriously, Jason. Even if you’re doing it in the most Lannister way possible.”

Jason laughed, shaking his head. “Well, she deserves the best. And I’ll make sure she gets it—even if she insists on teasing me the entire time.”

Tyland raised his goblet in a mock toast. “To the lion and his dragon. May you survive each other.”

Jason clinked his goblet against his brother’s, his grin returning. “Survive? Tyland, we thrive.”

Servants darted between chambers, arms laden with silks, flowers, and enough candles to light up the Seven Kingdoms. But your focus was singular as you made your way to your sister’s chambers, one hand on your swollen belly as the weight of your pregnancy reminded you with every step.

When you reached the familiar door to Rhaenyra’s rooms, the guards opened it without question, and you stepped inside to find your sister standing near the window. The light streamed in, catching the silver in her hair, which cascaded over her gown.

At the sound of your footsteps, Rhaenyra turned, her face breaking into a radiant smile. “Y/N!” she exclaimed, crossing the room in a few quick strides to pull you into an embrace.

You returned the hug as best as you could, given your condition, before stepping back with a faint sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you, Rhaenyra.”

“And you,” she replied, her gaze immediately dropping to your belly. Her expression shifted from joy to mock alarm as she tilted her head. “Gods, Y/N, you look like you’re about to explode!”

Your eyes narrowed, though there was a faint twitch of a smile on your lips. “Charming as ever, I see.”

“I’m serious,” Rhaenyra said, circling you with the keen eye of someone inspecting a warhorse. “How are you even standing upright? That poor carriage must have creaked all the way from Casterly Rock.”

You sighed, lowering yourself into a chair by the fire. “The carriage was fine, thank you. Jason, on the other hand, was insufferable.”

Rhaenyra smirked, taking the chair opposite you. “Oh, I can imagine. Let me guess—he stopped every hour to make sure you were comfortable?”

“Every half-hour,” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “And that’s not counting the times he insisted on rearranging the cushions or interrogating the servants about the road conditions.”

Rhaenyra burst into laughter, shaking her head. “I can see it now—Jason hovering over you like a fretful old septa. Poor man probably aged a decade on the journey.”

“Poor man?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I’m the one who had to listen to him. Every bump in the road, every creak of the wheels, he’d ask, ‘Are you alright, my love? Is the baby alright?’ By the time we arrived, I was ready to throw him out of the carriage.”

Rhaenyra’s laughter grew louder, and she leaned back in her chair, clutching her stomach. “You’ve married a lion, Y/N, but he sounds more like a worried lapdog.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. “He means well. But by the gods, if he brings me one more blanket I didn’t ask for, I might actually breathe fire.”

Rhaenyra leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And how are you managing being surrounded by his family? I can only imagine what it’s like with a castle full of Lannisters.”

“Imagine a room full of golden-haired jesters who think everything Jason does is a stroke of genius,” you replied dryly. “Even when it’s not.”

“That sounds… exhausting,” Rhaenyra said, smirking. “But at least you’re here now. And we’ve both got weddings to deal with.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Yes, but only one of us has to fit into a gown for the occasion.”

Rhaenyra’s laughter echoed through the room again, and she reached across to squeeze your hand. “You’ve always had the sharpest tongue. I’ve missed this.”

“So have I,” you admitted softly, squeezing her hand in return. “But let’s not make a habit of reminding me how large I’ve grown, shall we?”

Rhaenyra grinned. “No promises. After all, what are sisters for?”

The Great Hall of the Red Keep was a spectacle of light and sound, the flickering glow of thousands of candles reflecting off silver plates and goblets. The tables were piled high with roasted meats, exotic fruits, and delicacies from across the realm, while minstrels filled the air with lively tunes. Laughter and chatter echoed as lords and ladies from every corner of Westeros celebrated the union of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Ser Laenor Velaryon.

Jason Lannister, of course, had found his way to the heart of the festivities. He stood by your side, his scarlet doublet catching the light as he scanned the royal table with a grin that could rival the brightest sun. You, meanwhile, stood with a slightly weary expression, one hand resting on your swollen belly as Jason prepared for his grand approach.

“Come, Y/N,” Jason said, gesturing toward the head table where King Viserys sat beside Rhaenyra. “Let’s go congratulate your sister. And, of course, remind everyone that I’m part of the royal family now.”

You rolled your eyes, though there was a faint smirk on your lips. “Do you always have to make everything about you?”

Jason grinned, offering you his arm. “Not everything. Just most things.”

With a resigned sigh, you took his arm, and the two of you made your way toward the royal table. Heads turned as you passed, whispers trailing in your wake about the golden couple of Casterly Rock—though whether those whispers were admiring or exasperated was anyone’s guess.

“Ah, my daughters!” King Viserys exclaimed as he spotted the two of you approaching. His face lit up with genuine joy, and he rose from his seat, arms outstretched. “Come here, both of you!”

You smiled warmly, stepping forward to embrace your father. Jason, not one to miss an opportunity, followed closely behind, his grin widening as Viserys clapped him on the shoulder.

“Your Grace,” Jason said, bowing slightly. “A magnificent celebration, as expected.”

“Jason,” Viserys said, laughing. “You’ve been part of this family for a year now. There’s no need for formality.”

Jason straightened, his smile turning even brighter. “Of course, Your Grace—Father.”

You shot Jason a look, suppressing a laugh as Viserys chuckled, clearly amused. “Father, is it? Well, I suppose I should get used to that.”

Rhaenyra, seated beside the king, leaned over with a smirk. “Jason, you do realize that sitting at the royal table doesn’t automatically make you royalty?”

Jason placed a hand over his heart, feigning mock offense. “Princess, I’m wounded. I’m simply here to celebrate this joyous occasion and bask in the presence of such esteemed company.”

“Bask?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “More like bask in your own self-importance.”

Viserys laughed heartily, gesturing for the two of you to sit. “Come, sit with us. It’s been far too long since I’ve had both of my daughters at my side.”

Jason all but beamed as he pulled out a chair for you before taking the seat beside you. He sat straighter than usual, clearly savoring the view from the royal table. Servants immediately approached, filling goblets and offering platters of food.

“This is quite the view,” Jason remarked, glancing down at the hall where the lords and ladies of Westeros feasted below. “I could get used to this.”

“You’re not supposed to get used to it,” you said dryly, spearing a piece of roasted pheasant with your fork. “We’re guests, not new monarchs.”

Jason leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But don’t I look the part? Golden-haired, impeccably dressed, sitting beside my beautiful wife—who happens to be a princess.”

“You look like a man who’s about to spill wine on his doublet,” you retorted, smirking.

Before Jason could reply, Viserys turned to the two of you, his expression soft. “Y/N, it warms my heart to see you here. And Jason, I must commend you for taking such good care of my daughter.”

Jason straightened even more, puffing out his chest slightly. “It’s my greatest honor, Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra, overhearing, leaned closer with a sly grin. “And yet, Y/N seems to do most of the work keeping you in line.”

“Marrying a dragon does require a certain level of resilience,” Jason replied with a wink, earning laughter from both Rhaenyra and Viserys.

As the feast continued, Viserys raised his goblet, the hall falling silent as he prepared to speak. “Tonight, we celebrate not only the union of Rhaenyra and Laenor but the strength of our family and the alliances that bind us.”

Jason raised his own goblet enthusiastically, cutting in before Viserys could continue. “And may I add—a toast to the dragons and lions, for there is no force greater in all of Westeros.”

The hall erupted into laughter and applause, though you shook your head, muttering under your breath. “He’s impossible.”

Rhaenyra leaned over, smirking. “You married him. That makes him your problem.”

Viserys laughed, clapping Jason on the back. “Well said, Jason. Well said.”

Jason grinned, clearly in his element. “Anything for family, Your Grace.”

As the night wore on, the royal table became the heart of the celebration, with Jason at the center of every jest and toast. And while you occasionally rolled your eyes at his antics, you couldn’t deny that his enthusiasm was infectious. For all his dramatics, Jason Lannister was exactly where he wanted to be—by your side, among the family he had claimed as his own.

The feast continued in full swing, with the sounds of music, laughter, and clinking goblets filling the Great Hall. Jason, his confidence bolstered by the royal table’s attention, had somehow engaged Lord Jasper Wylde—known for his dour personality and penchant for legal minutiae—in a heated and thoroughly absurd debate.

“I’m just saying,” Jason declared, waving his goblet for emphasis, “a lion would undoubtedly defeat a stag in combat. It’s not even a contest.”

Lord Jasper frowned, his bushy eyebrows drawing together. “A stag is agile and strong. Its antlers are formidable weapons.”

“Formidable?” Jason scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Against what? A blade of grass? A lion would have the stag pinned before it even knew what hit it.”

Viserys chuckled into his goblet, thoroughly entertained, while Rhaenyra leaned toward you, murmuring, “This is what he chooses to debate?”

You smirked, though your amusement was tempered by the growing discomfort in your lower back. “He could argue with a rock if it insulted his pride.”

“Well,” Rhaenyra whispered, “at least he’s amusing.”

Jason continued, gesturing grandly. “And let’s not forget, lions hunt in prides. Imagine an entire pride of lions against one lonely stag. The poor creature wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Nature has its balance, Lord Jason,” Lord Jasper replied, his tone bordering on exasperation. “The stag may not always win, but it has its strengths.”

Jason grinned. “Strengths? The only strength a stag has is being delicious on a plate.”

Laughter rippled through the royal table, but your faint smile faltered as a sharp pain rippled through your abdomen. You inhaled deeply, gripping the edge of the table.

Rhaenyra’s sharp eyes caught the movement. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You forced a smile, though it was strained. “I’m fine. Just… a bit uncomfortable.”

Jason, oblivious, leaned closer to Lord Jasper, his grin widening. “Let’s settle this once and for all. Your Grace, what do you think? Lion or stag?”

Viserys chuckled but raised his goblet in mock surrender. “I dare not get involved. Both are noble symbols of their respective houses.”

Jason huffed, turning back to Lord Jasper. “See? Even the king agrees it’s—”

“Jason,” you interrupted, your voice unusually sharp. “I think we have a more pressing matter.”

Jason turned to you, his brow furrowing. “What is it, my love? Another ridiculous argument you’d like me to settle?”

You shot him a withering look as another wave of pain hit. “Unless you’d like to debate the speed at which our child plans to arrive, I suggest you stop talking and start helping.”

Jason blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to dawning realization. “Wait… now? You mean… now?”

“Yes, now!” you snapped, gripping his arm as the contractions intensified. “Unless you think I’m doing this for fun.”

The realization hit Jason like a thunderbolt. He shot to his feet, knocking over his goblet in the process. “She’s in labor! Someone do something!”

The hall fell silent for a moment before erupting into chaos. Servants scrambled, lords and ladies exchanged startled glances, and Rhaenyra stood quickly, her expression a mix of concern and amusement.

“Jason, calm down,” Rhaenyra said, trying to steady him. “She needs to be taken to her chambers.”

“Yes, of course,” Jason said, his voice an octave higher than usual. “To the chambers! Quickly! Why is no one moving fast enough?”

Martyn, who had been sitting a few tables away, appeared at Jason’s side, grinning like a cat who’d just caught a mouse. “You’re going to faint, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” Jason snapped, though his pale complexion suggested otherwise. “This is my child we’re talking about. My heir. My—”

“Jason!” you snapped, your tone cutting through the chaos. “Less talking, more moving.”

Jason immediately snapped into action, barking orders at everyone within earshot. “You! Get fresh linens. You there, fetch a maester. And you—why are you just standing there? Move!”

Rhaenyra helped you to your feet, her arm steadying you as Jason darted ahead, clearing a path through the crowd like a lion defending his pride. Viserys, watching the scene unfold with a bemused expression, raised his goblet again.

“To my future grandchild,” he said, chuckling. “May they inherit their mother’s patience.”

As you were escorted toward your chambers, Jason alternated between fretting over you and yelling at anyone who didn’t move fast enough.

“Careful with those stairs!” he barked at the guards. “Do you want her to trip and—”

“Jason,” you said through gritted teeth, “if you don’t stop shouting, I will have this child right here just to spite you.”

Martyn, following close behind, burst into laughter. “I think she’s serious, cousin.”

Jason ignored him, turning to the maester who had finally arrived. “What do we do? Is everything ready? Does she need—”

“She needs calm,” the maester said firmly, glancing at you with a reassuring nod. “Let’s get her settled first.”

You shot Jason a look as you reached your chambers. “See? Calm.”

Jason nodded rapidly, though his fidgeting hands betrayed his nerves. “Right. Calm. I can do calm.”

Rhaenyra smirked, patting his shoulder as she guided you inside. “You’d better, Jason. The real work hasn’t even begun.”

And with that, the doors closed, leaving the Great Hall buzzing with laughter and speculation about the dramatic arrival of House Lannister’s newest lion—or dragon.

The Great Hall of the Red Keep was still in a chaotic state following Jason’s dramatic outburst. Servants scrambled to clean up spilled goblets and toppled chairs, while guests exchanged amused whispers. In one corner, an elderly Lannister aunt appeared to be having her own kind of meltdown.

“This is why she shouldn’t travel in her condition!” the aunt wailed, clutching at her pearls as she swayed dramatically. “What if something happens? Oh, the baby, the poor baby!”

Tyland Lannister, ever the pragmatist, stepped in to steady her. “Aunt Cecily, I assure you, everything is under control.”

“Under control?” Cecily repeated, wide-eyed. “Did you not hear her screams? This castle is cursed!”

Tyland pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath before speaking in a soothing tone. “She wasn’t screaming, Aunt Cecily. She was simply… forcefully communicating with Jason.”

Cecily clutched his arm tighter. “That poor girl. Married to him and now this. It’s too much, Tyland. Too much!”

“I assure you,” Tyland said dryly, “she’s handling it far better than Jason is.”

At the far end of the hall, Queen Alicent sat beside her father, Lord Otto Hightower. Her expression was calm, though her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her goblet as she glanced toward the scene of the commotion.

“Do you think they’ll survive each other?” Alicent asked, her voice quiet but laced with amusement.

Otto didn’t look up from his wine, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Which ones?”

Alicent tilted her head toward the door where Jason had disappeared moments ago. “Jason and his wife.”

Otto let out a faint snort, though he quickly masked it with a sip of wine. “The question isn’t whether they’ll survive each other. It’s whether the Red Keep will survive them.”

Alicent smirked, leaning closer. “You seem to be in a rare mood tonight, Father.”

Otto glanced at her, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile. “It’s hard not to be when watching a Lannister unravel in front of the entire court.”

At a nearby table, Laenor Velaryon sat beside his sister Laena, the two of them thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. Laenor leaned back in his chair, his goblet of wine untouched as he watched the chaos unfold with sparkling eyes.

“Now this,” Laenor said, grinning, “is how you make a wedding memorable.”

Laena smirked, resting her chin on her hand. “I don’t think Jason intended for his wife to go into labor during the feast.”

“No,” Laenor admitted, laughing, “but it’s still the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all night. Did you see his face? He looked like someone set his hair on fire.”

Laena chuckled, swirling her wine. “It’s a wonder he didn’t faint. Though I suppose he’s too vain to collapse in public.”

Laenor clinked his goblet against hers. “To Jason and his dramatics. May their child inherit all of it.”

“And to the poor Maester Mellos,” Laena added with a grin. “May he survive the night.”

At the royal table, King Viserys was in rare form, laughing heartily as he recounted the scene to a nearby lord. His cheeks were flushed from the wine, and his eyes sparkled with genuine joy.

“Did you see him?” Viserys said, shaking his head. “Jumping up like a startled rabbit! ‘She’s in labor!’ he shouted, as if the entire hall couldn’t already tell.”

The lord chuckled, nodding. “It was certainly… memorable, Your Grace.”

“Memorable?” Viserys repeated, raising his goblet. “It was hilarious! My son-in-law has a flair for theatrics, I’ll give him that.”

Rhaenyra, (who returned to the feast and was seated beside her father and Laenor once again) smirked as she sipped her wine. “Jason does have a way of commanding attention.”

Viserys turned to her, grinning. “And what about your sister? Calm as a dragon in flight. She barely flinched.”

“That’s Y/N for you,” Rhaenyra replied, her tone fond. “Always the steady one.”

“Well, she’ll need to be,” Viserys said, chuckling again. “Married to him.”

As the hall gradually settled, the minstrels resumed their lively tunes, and servants brought out fresh trays of food and wine. The lords and ladies returned to their conversations, though the topic of Jason and Y/N’s dramatic exit remained the highlight of the evening.

Tyland finally managed to guide Aunt Cecily back to her seat, where she continued to mutter about curses and carriages. Alicent exchanged amused glances with Rhaenyra, while Laenor and Laena continued to laugh over their shared goblet.

Viserys, still in high spirits, raised his goblet once more. “To family!” he declared, his voice carrying across the hall. “May they bring us joy, laughter, and a little chaos!”

The hall erupted into cheers, and though the feast continued, it was clear that the night’s true entertainment had already taken place.

[stressedanime]

my new favourite headcanon is ace jason grace, and i think it would just fit so well into his character so lemme explain (also creds to @snoelledarts who helped me write this)

As we know, his overall character arc is about struggling against the expectations put on him because of his birthright, being the son of Jupiter. 

This presented itself in two ways: The inherent stigma of being the son of Jupiter/Zeus, and the pressure Camp Jupiter had placed on him to be a perfect soldier/leader

To talk about the stigma first, I want to focus on Jason and Piper’s interactions with Achelous, because it really makes my heart hurt for him.

“Poor thing. Another girl stuck with a son of Zeus.” “Wait a minute,” Jason said. “It’s Jupiter actually. And how does that make her poor thing?” - pg. 335, the Mark of Athena

To summarize: Achelous describes to Jason and Piper how Hercules' died, how he took after Zeus by having affairs and flirting with anything that moved. Then, after catching wind of her husband's infidelity, Hercules’ second wife killed him out of jealousy. Then Achelous warns Piper about Jason being a son of /Zeus/. 

Piper doesn’t even look at Jason after this. She fears for herself, and for what Jason could possibly do just because of his birthright. How do you think that affected Jason at this moment? The horror and fear that he could hurt the people he loves? That it could be inevitable for him to follow in his fathers footsteps? Especially when Piper doubts him at that moment, how could he also not doubt himself? 

Even though at the end of this conflict she shows her dedication and belief in him, that she believes he is better than the people he’s related to, I fear that the doubt was already planted in his head.

Moving onto the pressures that the Romans placed on him, I think it’s important context to look at what happened BEFORE he made it to CJ 

When he was abandoned by his mom at the Wolf House, she promised that she would come back to him, but she never did. 

His mother’s unkempt promise was at the core of who he was. He’d built his whole life around the irritation of her words, like the grain of sand at the center of a pearl. People lie. Promises are broken. That was why, as much as it chafed him, Jason followed rules. He kept his promises. He never wanted to abandon anyone the way he’d been abandoned and lied to. - pg. 31, the Blood of Olympus

So from the absolute beginning of his time in the Legion, he felt a strong need to follow rules, even though another part of him so desperately wanted to break free of them. 

And we know he struggled against the expectations about being a son of Jupiter because of the glimpses we get about his time in the Legion.

This had been the story of my life, he thought bitterly. Everyone had always watched him, expecting him to lead the way. From the moment he’d arrived at Camp Jupiter, the Roman demigods treated him like a prince in waiting. Despite his attempts to alter his destiny–joining the worst cohort, trying to change the camp traditions, taking the least glamorous missions, and befriending the least popular kids–he had been made praetor anyway. As a son of Jupiter, his future had been assured. - pg. 30 the Blood of Olympus

But I want to look at these expectations in a slightly different lens than just being destined to lead. Specifically, I want to look at this in terms of hegemonic masculinity, which is a specific social identity or performance of masculinity that is virtually unattainable. 

This masculinity was very likely part of the pressure that the Romans put onto Jason. This includes the idea that men, ‘real men’, need to be physically superior, money makers, have political power, be conventionally attractive, and use those looks and charms and status to have sex, like a Real Man™️should. 

You just KNOW that these warped ideals, mixed with the expectations of being the son of JUPITER aka horny menace #1 created some fucked up ideals in his head and pressure from others about how he should act.

All of this leads me to the conclusion that an ace Jason Grace would be a natural, and fitting identity, as well as add so much depth to his character

First of all, realizing he’s ace would be a huge relief

Apart from the “oh i’ve finally found language that describes me and my experience” (bc i feel like he’d hear one of his friends mention it during conversation and he’d be like what’s that? and then when they explain it he’d be like huh. interesting. very interesting. and then go home n scour the internet for resources to explain more)

There’d be that part of him that’s like, relieved that there’s a piece of him that inherently separates him from Jupiter’s legacy, in both the way way that Achelous outlined, and the one forced on him by the Romans

Jason who rejects that side of being related to his father, to being Roman, to being this glorified version of himself that doesn't exist. Jason who gets to relax and live without the fear that he's anything like his father. 

Also, this could work completely with how his and Piper’s relationship played out. They truly did love each other despite the godly meddling, but their circumstances didn’t set them up to last.  

And maybe… maybe their relationship worked so well for Jason, because of Piper's sexuality. 

Piper isn't really into guys like that (Jason maybe being an exception because of the memories from hera or because of specific circumstances/the kind of person Jason is), and Jason isn't really... into people like that and so he doesn't see anything weird about how Piper is either?

They're both not correct about their sexualities and maybe trying to cover it up which is what made their relationship kinda functional for a while because neither of them were pushing for anything super romantic or over the top or sexual

I feel like I could even pull from the Cupid scene to support this

If this invisible guy was Love, then Jason was beginning to think love was overrated. He liked Pipers version better - considerate, kind, and beautiful. pg. 289, the House of Hades

Considerate is SUCH a specific word choice. Especially when we know that considerate is the antithesis to everything Jupiter is. 

AND it’s the antithesis to everyone else in Jason’s life. Do you ever think the Romans were ever considerate to him? Likely not. They just expected him to perform, like a son of Jupiter should.

Therefore, his relationship with Piper was perfect for him, because she didn’t see him as a son of Jupiter. She saw him as Jason Grace, her best friend.

And if he ever does find a partner, he’d have the confidence and ability to be upfront about his sexuality because he won’t be pressured by expectations like that again. 

The relief of knowing intimacy looks a little different for him, and the relief of like, letting people be gentle and soft, with him and that’s all that’s expected. That's all he needs, and no one else feels he needs to go further either. He can just breathe.

That’s what Jason Grace deserves.

[olailamajnoon]

Dick starts training to become a ballerino (yes, that is what a male ballerina is called ;)) supposedly for a "mission" but secretly because Cass is doing it. he doesn't know why, but it's important to him to be the most "graceful" person in the family, and the fact that Bruce goes wild over Cass' ballet recitals makes Dick remember his gymnastics competitions when Bruce would come and sit ringside and clap. so Dick is like "i can do ballet, watch me bro" but it all goes horribly wrong when Bruce comes to one of his practice recitals and Dick's practicing with 6-year-old girls in front of an empty hall, but then it only gets WORSE because behind Bruce comes Tim with a camcorder with one of those zoom lenses, and behind Tim is Damian, and behind Damian is Steph, and Cass, and then the worst thing happens because JASON is here too. Jay doesn't say anything, only cheers, they ALL cheer for him when he goes en pointe but he knows he will never live this down because on all sides of him there are little sparkly girls in shiny tutus, and they're not doing it as well as him, but he's not taking any pleasure from showing them up.

Only Damian is cheering unironically, he doesn't see anything wrong with competing with kindergarteners because he doesn't register kids as kids, so later he compliments Dick saying "your form is superior to all your classmates" and No One is able to stop laughing except Jason. Jason opens a bottle of champagne and toasts Dick with a straight face and Dick wants to hit his head with the bottle and there's a sparkle in Jay's eyes because he knows it.

Dick abandons ballet after that. The memories are too close to the surface.

[somewhereincairparavel]

Literally where do people get the idea that Jason was full of himself and that he thought he was better than Percy? This is legit brought up in so many 'why-i-hate-jason-grace" arguments it just screams lack of reading comprehension and obvious Percy bias saltiness. Like just say you are bitter that Jason is written as percy's equal and that you want Percy to have nobody rival him 💀

Never once in his povs did he ever think about how much better he was, on the contrary it's just him not feeling good enough about himself. He and Percy NEVER said anything bad about eachother.

His and Percy's rival is just a joke between two powerful demigods who have rival dads, that's literally it. Even if Jason did indeed think he's better, so what about it? What's the big deal?

he has worked hard and accomplished great things, so he has like, every right to be confident in his power, stop acting like hes all weak and inferior when he canonically killed a titan with like his bare fucking hands till the point Krios swore vengeance on him. No he's not "weak" or morally inferior to Percy as a person. You are merely trying to cope. Not to mention the way people judge a character's worth SOLEY based on their abilities is a huge red flag in itself, but that's a discussion for another time.

he shouldve canonically had more achievments and power than he originally got in the books as a son of jupiter. but rick made Percy too OP and fumbled jason for the sake of keeping percy's spotlight intact. Has it ever dawned on people that Percy is shown to have cool abilities like bending tears but Jason is never shown to have abilities like controlling lungs? Yeah, that's authors privilege for ya.

Y'all put Percy in an obnoxiously high pedestal and that's not a good thing. It diminishes his flaws and makes him appear so saint like and Gary Stu even though he's not. the fact that ppl get so sensitive over their rivalry and try to belittle jason by making up scenarios (like claiming jason thinks he's superior and shit) and go around saying that to ppl to reduce his value DESPITE being well aware that he has like enough hate already, is so insanely petty. BOTH Jason and Percy deserve equal amounts of respect.

God forbid a teenage boy say he's better than the other as a joke, he's such a terrible, stuck up, and shitty person who deserved death for that, isn't he?

[highmidvoiddemon]

Name Battle: Jason

Who is the Superior Jason? If all the Jason's were thrown together and forced to fight, would be win and be chosen to represent all fictional Jason's?

[starlightshadowsworld]

Frank, new Praetor: Anyone have anything to say before we go to our next topic?

Solider: Yeah, I’ve got one. I saw the list of students accepted into New Rome University this year. And I believe two of them should be removed at once.

Frank: Okay, slow down. I’ve got the list here in front of me. Who are they and what have they done that makes you think that?

Solider: Don’t pretend you don’t know. They’re Greek the fact they’re on the list at all is an insult to us.

Frank:…You’re talking about Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase?

Solider: I don’t care what their names are they need to be removed.

Frank: You should care. You and everyone else in this room wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them. And while it was short lived, Percy was Praetor. And I recognise you, you voted him in.

Solider: That’s before I knew he was a lying Greek. Besides if we’re playing that card they shouldn’t be accepted in. The rules are that one must serve 10 years off service before being allowed in New Rome.

Frank: I’m aware. Myself, Praetor Ramirez-Arellano as well as the centurions made a decision to allow both of them entry as an exception.

Solider: We can’t have exceptions! If we let them in we’ll have to let them all in! You can’t make up such a rule.

Frank, calm but firm: You’re superiors have made their decision, stand down.

The solider is mad and advances over to the podium Frank is standing on and lighting strikes the ground before them.

The solider jumps back in alarm while Frank shakes his head fondly as the very irritated ghost of Jason Grace appears before them. His very real gladius pointed at the soilders neck.

Jason: Move so much as a finger and you’ll lose the finger.

Frank, amused: At ease, Former Praetor Grace.

Jason, sheaths his weapon and salutes to Frank in respect: As you wish.

Solider puts on a face of fake terror.

Solider: Oh sir Grace, it’s terrible this false Praetor is trying to allow Greeks into our esteemed University.

Jason: What a wonderful idea.

The Solider stares at him in shock while Frank fights to keep a straight face.

Jason: An esteemed educational institution such as New Rome University should strive to teach, to learn and to listen. By expanding our knowledge and resources through sharing with others and offering them a place to learn and share.

Jason: I can’t think of anything better, can you?

Solider:…Yes sir that is a wonderful idea.

Jason: Besides, I personally vouched for those students in question. You wouldn’t be questioning my authority, would you?

The solider goes pale.

Solider: No sir, I wouldn’t dream of-

Jason: But you are. I appointed Praetor Zhang and here you are undermining his authority and credibility as your superior.

Jason: To undermine him you are undermining not only my authority but Praetor Ramirez-Arellano and Former Praetor Jackson. For that our rules state I should have you executed.

Solider: No, please! I’m sorry!

Jason: Don’t apologise to me, apologise to your Praetor. Your fate is up to him not I.

Solider: Praetor Zhang please accept my most humblest of apologises. I questioned your judgement and that of my betters, I won’t make such a mistake again.

Frank: I…I accept your apology. But take this as a warning. I accept debates on my choices but there are lines I won’t have crossed.

Solider: Thank you sir.

Jason: You should be grateful. You should all be grateful that you have a kind and understanding man leading you all.

Frank: Let this be a lesson to you all, and when Percy and Annabeth come to New Rome remember they are treasured friends of ours. I won’t tolerate any cruelty towards them. If that’s all we will go to our next order of business.

-Later-

Frank: You didn’t need to go that far.

Jason: Unfortunately I did. You are kind Frank and you are a great leader. You’re what this place needs but being a leader is not an easy path.

He sighs sadly.

Jason: I hate to resort to such threats and words but sometimes it’s all they’ll listen too. There’s a reason this place fell to Octavian so easily.

Frank: I understand. Thanks by the way for showing up. I told Reyna to let me do this one alone but…

Jason: You did well but there’s a reason this job was never for one. She’ll appreciate the time out but don’t be afraid to ask us for help. We’re all here for you.

Frank: I’ll remember that. Since your here could you explain this one thing for me.

Jason, chuckles: Of course.

[queenjunothegreat]

Aaaaand I'm back for Day Two! Today I got to write for REYNA which is very exciting because I've never written for her! I've actually been REALLY nervous about writing for her, in her upcoming HoJ debut, so I'm kinda glad I was able to break the ice with this silly, unimportant little fic that got WAY longer than it was supposed to be lmao. Also! Fun fact! This fic's working title was "*Jason Voice* Hey There Demons. It's Me Ya Boy." Just so you all know.

Without delay, may I present day two: Comfort Zones and Ice Cream Cones

Reyna watched the exchange with arched eyebrows until she heard quiet snickering at her side. She turned to see Piper standing there, her mouth curled up in a devious smirk and her eyes shining with delighted mischief. “You did that on purpose,” Reyna accused. Piper was completely unrepentant. “Obviously. Leo’s gonna be swooning like a Victorian lady about this for weeks. He owes me big time.” Reyna snorted out a half-aborted laugh before she could stop herself and Piper grinned at her. She stuck out her hand in an offer to shake. “Piper McLean.” She took the hand. “Reyna.” “Just Reyna?” “I mean no offense, but I doubt you'd be able to pronounce it. I've made Jason swear to never attempt it in my presence ever again.” Piper giggled and Reyna stifled the urge to puff out her chest like a peacock. “Just Reyna then,” Piper agreed. *** Reyna is introduced to Jason's friends, and perhaps bites off a little more than she can chew. Ao3 Anniversary Collection Day 2: Angel/Demonverse

To say that angels and demons were diametrically opposed and inherently incompatible was, in all honesty, narrow-minded and short-sighted. To claim that one group was superior to the other was even moreso. There were, of course, people who subscribed to that line of thinking – Octavian, for example, came to mind without much effort – but Reyna liked to think herself above those kinds of prejudices. She knew that they all served the same goal of balance in the mortal world. Truly, angels and demons were one in the same, two sides of a coin: Order and chaos. She knew this to be true, and would stand by those truths to her dying breath. 

But there was a reason the two groups preferred to keep to themselves. Reyna liked structure, as did most every angel she knew. She liked organization and discipline and rules. She liked knowing what was expected of her and how she was expected to do it without having to overcomplicate everything. Similarly, most demons found themselves chafing under those same rules and hierarchy. There were, of course, exceptions to the rule – Annabeth was so resolute in her routines and rituals that she was sometimes mistaken for an angel – but in general the two groups rarely meshed well.

Jason Grace was an exception to this rule.

He himself preferred to work under the same rules as Reyna, but she had never met an angel who delighted in the chaos of demons half as much as he did. For the first thousand years she’d known him, that wasn’t the case. In fact, he’d been closer to Octavian’s ideology than anything else. Then, he met a pair of demons, and his whole demeanor shifted. He was still her best friend, and she his, but there was more to him now. He smiled easier, laughed louder, and there was a sparkle in his eye that had never been present before. He’d wanted to introduce her to the pair of them, but she’d heard quite enough of his stories about them to know that she wasn’t interested.

But even immortals have their limits and after two and a half centuries of watching Jason fraternize from the sidelines, she finally gave in. She was, admittedly, a little curious about anyone who could have such a profound impact on the angel she called brother. Still, she didn’t have to be happy about it.

“Where are they?” Renya demanded, narrowing her eyes at Jason. “We were scheduled to meet nearly half an hour ago.”

Jason shrugged, clearly unbothered by the delay. “They’re demons, Reyna. Punctuality kind of goes against their whole ‘harbinger of chaos’ thing.”

“And just how long are we meant to wait for them? This is inconsiderate on their part.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“And not one I make an effort to employ.” Jason said nothing, he just raised his eyebrows, amusement written on his features. She cut her gaze away from him and crossed her arms. She could almost feel the way her wings wanted to puff up and flutter in outrage, but they couldn't. They were stuck in the human world, which meant she had to keep her wings folded up all neat and tight and out of the way, regardless of her discomfort. Another reason to dislike their outing. “Why do we have to meet here, of all places?”

“Demons can't get into Heaven, and I don't particularly enjoy visiting Hell,” he said easily. “Besides, humans are fun. Watch this.”

He pointed across the street, and as she watched a shiny silver coin materialized out of thin air on the sidewalk right in front of a toddler and his mother. The little boy gasped loud enough for Reyna to hear and pointed at it, shrieking, “Mommy, look! A coin! It's heads up just like you said!”

“Oooh, it is!” the mother agreed. “That means it's lucky. Go on and pick it up.”

Gleefully, the child did as he was told and carefully stashed the coin in the big front pocket of his overalls. Then he tugged on his mother's hand and they were walking down the street again, happily chatting back and forth. 

Huh. Reyna had never really spent all that much time among humans. She did her missions, of course, but she rarely dawdled once she was done. Were humans really so easy to please? Her gaze fell on another one, a haggard- looking young adult who trudged their way along like the weight of the world rested on their shoulders. She crooked her pointer finger in a ‘come here’ gesture, and she felt the sharp tingle of a Miracle zing down her arm. 

There was a crisp autumn breeze that carried with it a large dead leaf, and it curled around the human's legs for a moment before coming to a perfect stop right in front of them. They paused, staring at the leaf for a second, then glanced up and down the street as if go check if anyone was watching before crushing the leaf underfoot with a loud, satisfying crunch. Their whole face split open in a grin and they continued on their way, though they held themselves a little straighter now. 

Reyna’s lips quirked up at the corners and she could practically feel the shine in her eyes. Her gaze darted back to Jason who was looking at her with unmasked amusement and affection. She looked away again, cheeks going warm. “I concede your point,” she huffed. 

Fortunately, the demons arrived before Jason could speak. She heard them far before she saw them, the two of them racing down the street, laughing and shouting at one another. They were both remarkably short, but that didn't seem to matter much in terms of speed. Right before they made it to where Jason and Reyna were patiently waiting, one of them (Piper, if Reyna was remembering their names correctly, and she always remembered names correctly) tripped the other and Leo practically somersaulted to land on his face at Reyna’s feet. 

He quickly scrambled to sit up properly so he could glower up at Piper. “You suck. Like, so hard. I hate you.”

Piper tilted her head back and laughed And Reyna found herself almost startled at the sound. She didn't often allow herself to delve too much into fanciful comparisons, but she couldn't help but think about how much Piper’s laughter and the bright glint of her sharp teeth reminded her of the Heavenly Chorus and their gleaming golden harps. She desperately shaved the thought to the side and hoped she hadn't revealed too much of her daydream on her face. Fortunately, it seemed that everyone was too busy with Leo’s impromptu tumbling routine to pay her much mind. 

“Are you okay?” Jason asked with a gentle smile, crouching down at his side.

Immediately, Leo’s expression warmed from his earlier irritation at Piper and he gave Jason a wide, goofy grin. “Never better.”

Jasmi's eyes crinkled at the corners before he noticed a bright red scrape on Leo’s chin that was sluggishly bleeding. He frowned and cupped Leo’s jaw so he could rub his thumb across it. “You’very got something– Here, lemme just–”

Leo visibly shivered as Jason's divinity coursed through him, healing the minor wound. Then he just looked up at Jason with gooey affection. “Thanks, Superman.”

Reyna watched the exchange with arched eyebrows until she heard quiet snickering at her side. She turned to see Piper standing there, her mouth curled up in a devious smirk and her eyes shining with delighted mischief. “You did that on purpose,” Reyna accused.

Piper was completely unrepentant. “Obviously. Leo’s gonna be swooning like a Victorian lady about this for weeks. He owes me big time.” Reyna snorted out a half-aborted laugh before she could stop herself and Piper grinned at her. She stuck out her hand in an offer to shake. “Piper McLean.”

She took the hand. “Reyna.”

“Just Reyna?”

“I mean no offense, but I doubt you'd be able to pronounce it. I've made Jason swear to never attempt it in my presence ever again.”

Piper giggled and Reyna stifled the urge to puff out her chest like a peacock. “Just Reyna then,” Piper agreed. She cocked her head to the side and gave Reyna a curious look. “Jason talks about you a lot, you know.”

Reyna nodded. “Based on how often he talks about you, I had assumed.”

“How come it took you so long to agree to meet us? Leo’s practically been gagging for it since day one.” 

Reyna smirked and raised her eyebrows in challenge. “Do you mean to say you weren't?”

Piper flicked her eyes down and to the side, now looking a little self-conscious. “I… kind of assumed you didn’t want anything to do with us because of the whole demon thing. I didn’t say anything to Leo because I didn’t want to disappoint him, or whatever.”

Reyna felt guilt claw at her chest. Piper wasn’t entirely correct with her assumptions, but she wasn’t entirely wrong either. She’d refused Jason’s invitations to introduce her many, many times and it was largely due to her assumptions that she would find little satisfaction from communing with demons, despite Jason’s insistence that she would have a nice time. But she doubted Piper would really want to hear that, and there was another reason she’d refused. “I’m afraid that I don’t really get out much, and I even more rarely stray from Heaven.”

Piper nodded in understanding, but Reyna couldn’t help but wonder if she also understood the unspoken things, too. “I get that. Jason was the same way when we met him.” She gave Reyna an almost shy smile. “Do you… think you might be willing to tear yourself from upstairs a little more often? I could really use someone to talk to when Leo and Jason start third-wheeling me.”

Reyna’s heart thumped in the back of her throat and she felt her cheeks warm, but she continued to smile. “I think I would like that very much.” 

She glanced over to where Leo and Jason were still talking to one another, completely absorbed in their conversation. They were staring at one another while Leo chattered, flapping his hands around to emphasize his point while Jason just stared down at him in adoration. As she watched, she could see the faintest glimmer of Jason’s wings – unseen by any but the divine – arched high and encircling them in a little dome. Her eyebrows immediately shot up towards her hairline, and she resisted the urge to awkwardly clear her throat at the sight. My, my. How forward of you, Jason Grace.

Instead of embarrassing herself, she turned to Piper and offered her an arm. “Might I ask for your assistance in something? Something of a more personal nature.”

“Uh, sure,” Piper agreed, linking her arm with Reyna and allowing herself to be escorted away from the sordid display. 

“As I spend little time on Earth, there are a few things that I don’t have much experience in, and there is one in particular that I am interested in,” she lied. “I was wondering if you would guide me through the experience.”

“Yeah, sure,” Piper agreed eagerly. “What is it?”

“Ice cream.”

Piper’s eyes practically gleamed in delight. “Oh, absolutely. Come on, I’m gonna show you the best ice cream place in town.”

Now Reyna was the one allowing herself to be escorted, or rather dragged away. It was a bit unseemly, but she didn’t think she minded too much. No, she thought as she stared down at her and Piper’s interlocked hands, she was more than happy to see where this led.