#survival knife for camper

[kamaluhkhan]

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city. 

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over. 

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade. 

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him. 

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted. 

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time. 

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off. 

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior. 

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?” 

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.” 

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch. 

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities. 

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world. 

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —” 

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips. 

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?” 

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth? 

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink. 

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done. 

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too. 

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

 “yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too. 

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside. 

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too. 

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears. 

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies. 

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories. 

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?” 

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:  

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you. 

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking. 

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together. 

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again. 

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army. 

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts. 

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back. 

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth. 

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before. 

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl. 

luke blushes. 

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you. 

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.  

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you. 

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really. 

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules. 

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further. 

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.”  with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care. 

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him. 

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind. 

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind. 

he’ll happily yield his power to you. 

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you. 

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue. 

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt. 

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit. 

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you. 

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist. 

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines. 

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin. 

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

[ruegarding]

Hey, quick question if you don't mind me asking but what are your thoughts on Drew Tanaka as a character and how she was portrayed in HOO?

canon drew...well. i rbed this post that says "drew was not written as a character but rather a human obstacle who needed to be feminine so the ‘not like other girls’ could defeat her," and i think that summarizes it perfectly. she exists exclusively to make piper look good, which is a real shame bc drew could've been interesting. as-is, drew is not only uninteresting, piper is also uninteresting by extension. it'd be like if nancy was one of percy's greatest obstacles in tlt.

more under the cut bc i'm incapable of keeping things short.

here, in her introduction, not only is drew, a feminine girl, vain, she's also weak and unintimidating, a triple whammy right away! she has no reason to be antagonistic towards piper here, they literally just got to camp. piper's crime right now is *checks notes* not looking cute and existing next to a "good-looking guy." oh, yeah, btw drew likes jason for being hot and powerful.

this triple whammy isn't even restricted to drew, it's the entire aphrodite cabin. they all giggle when drew flirts w jason and when piper is uncomfortable being "gorgeous" and are too scared and weak to stand up to drew. the two exceptions are a guy who got in trouble for saying piper "might not be so bad" and a girl who's afraid of ugly shoes. what an uninteresting take.

anyway, moments like this

are everywhere. now, let's remember for a moment that the aphrodite cabin (including drew!) fought in a war where they were outnumbered and won. but yeah, their biggest strength is their ability to "make an orange t-shirt glamorous" bc piper is the only one out of them who can *checks notes* uhhh run? charmspeak on a quest? carry a knife? she doesn't even know how to fight in tlh! she wasn't at camp for more than two days, she never had any fighting experience! the fact that she's being called tougher than ppl who fought in a war makes me grit my teeth. and thalia was there when it happened!

and it doesn't even makes sense bc we see aphrodite like this is ttc

and she says this in tlh

(also sidenote: why is aphrodite's claiming so egregious and uncomfortable then? it's like rick has a moment of clarity and realizes he's being stupid and then immediately fucks it up again.)

this is interesting! and some of these kids (including drew!) would have met this aphrodite during the solstices. so portraying drew and the aphrodite cabin as a bunch of shallow kids obsessed w makeup that need to be saved by piper "not like other girls" mclean is so contrived. and constantly bringing up how piper's so much better than those shallow and weak aphrodite kids makes piper's entire character grating. rick brings up aneaus repeatedly throughout tlh, a son of venus/aphrodite that founded rome. why are we acting like aphrodite children are weak and stupid when we could be exploring literally anything else? like, you know, how they're traumatized?

and the thing is, he brings up silena! and it's done terribly. piper, who never knew silena and never will, lecturing drew, someone who knew silena and was betrayed by her, has always pissed me off. piper relating to silena bc she feels like she's in the same position? good, that's fine, i have no problem w this. but acting like she knew silena to ppl who actually did and then preaching abt what silena believed should've gotten her smacked (rick didn't even addressed the actual important part, which is how the other campers feel abt silena or how they feel abt surviving a war).

then when piper challenges drew, again, drew fought in a war while piper hasn't trained for a single day, why are we acting like piper could beat drew in a fight? piper can't even use charmspeak bc drew's resistant to it! that's the one advantage piper has! writing it like this comes off like piper is only strong as long as everyone else is weak. she's not rising to a challenge, her competitor is just so pathetic that she can overpower them. she didn't earn her strength. that's not good character development! so we're throwing two entire character arcs away for this!

what really gets me abt all of this is that piper didn't need to be a counselor. piper needed a place to belong. making drew nothing more than a stepping-stone was completely unnecessary, and making the aphrodite cabin weak and vain was redundant bc we already had an example w silena (and again, all the kids that fought in a war). as it is in canon, drew's character is a great example of some of rick's biggest writing flaws.

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

ahh i love your writing so much!!! are requests open?? if so id love to request more ethan nakamura >_< maybe a piece about the reader comforting him after the war? (au where he survives ofc) but honestly i wouldnt mind anything lol

loser ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

ethan nakamura x reader backtrack: "loser", bigbang inspiration: you!

in the days following the battle of manhattan, ethan nakamura was sent to the infirmary and visitors were banned from seeing him. this was probably for good reason--you bet that if campers had unrestricted access to ethan, they’d descend upon him with swords and arrows and finish off what kronos couldn’t do. unfortunately, this also meant you couldn’t see ethan at all. you didn’t even know if you necessarily wanted to see him--just thinking of him made your heart ache--but there was something that compelled you toward the big house every day, standing outside and staring through the windows at the infirmary beds lined with the injured. you often had to be dragged away from the big house porch.

after about a week, ethan was discharged from the infirmary. you now often saw him wandering around camp by himself, trying to keep his head down and avoiding eye contact with everyone. he had nobody; none of his friends from the hermes cabin were talking to him, luke was dead, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything except watch from afar. if it wasn’t for you warning the naiads to keep an eye on him, you were sure he would’ve drowned himself already.

you and ethan had so much history. you had been friends for years before everything went to tartarus. you had been the only one ethan confided in when he was feeling angry or upset about the gods. you had been the one to hold him when he had nightmares, to sing softly to him until he fell into a restless sleep. you had known before everyone else that he was planning to betray camp, to join luke and kronos. you had begged him not to go, but he hadn’t listened. you had spent hours tossing and turning in your bed, unable to sleep as your mind danced over all the memories you and ethan shared. you were the best of friends, the worst of enemies, and maybe even something more. and it had been you, in the throne room, who sang to ethan to snap him out of his kronos-induced brainwashed state. you had, essentially, saved his life. and you were miserable. you couldn’t help but feel like you had just reduced ethan to a life of being ostracized and hated; it would take months, if not years, for people to forgive him, if they even would.

maybe it’s your past together that made you so determined to stay with him. you saw how pale his face was; the bags under his eyes were dark purple, and he never showed up to campfire singalongs anymore. you couldn’t remember the last time you saw him smile.

about a month after the battle of manhattan, annabeth started building the new cabins. hades was the first; nico was more than happy to help out with some of the exterior and interior designing. cabin fourteen was for iris, cabin fifteen for hypnos. the design of these cabins were also both heavily influenced by butch and clovis, two respective sons of the gods whom the cabins were built for.

“[name],” annabeth called after you one morning as you headed to archery with your cabin. you turned around to see her clutching a folder and a bunch of paper in hand. she showed you the top piece of paper; it was a blueprint design for a cabin. “I’m designing nemesis’s cabin. do you think ethan would want to . . . you know?”

you noticed her nose crinkle a little as she said his name. you couldn’t blame her though. ethan had, after all, stabbed her with a poisoned knife. but the blueprint looked amazing; it was everything ethan had told you he dreamed of for his own cabin. “this is great, annabeth,” you gushed. “I’m sure ethan would love it. and I can ask him, but honestly. . .”

she understood right away. “sure,” she said. “no pressure.”

now, campers weren’t necessarily supposed to go into cabins that weren’t their own. you silently prayed that hermes would forgive you this one time as you made your way to cabin eleven, footsteps feeling heavier the closer you got. your breathing quickened, and your heart started thumping faster. you didn’t know why you were so nervous to finally talk to ethan. this isn’t about you, you tried to tell yourself. ethan’s cabin is finally being built and you’re just here to tell him.

ethan was right where you knew he’d be; sitting on the couch in the hermes cabin (because he didn’t have a bed, only a sleeping bag on the floor) and staring forlornly out the window, facing away from you. you watched him look sad for several minutes, barely controlling your shaky breathing. your fingers were trembling, you realized, and you squeezed your hands into fists to try to get them to stop. taking a deep breath, you cleared your throat. “if you stay cooped up here forever, you’re going to miss the construction of your cabin.”

he startled a little at your voice, before slowly turning to look at you. “what?” he muttered tiredly, face scrunched up in confusion.

“your cabin,” you repeated. “unless you’d prefer it to be a surprise. but I thought you wanted some sort of say in how the nemesis cabin looks.”

he blinked, an odd emotion crossing his face. you wondered if he was about to cry. “nemesis cabin?” he repeated.

“yeah,” you said. “are you coming?”

he practically jumped off the couch.

ethan practically fainted as he saw the base of the nemesis cabin. his hand reached for yours, pleadingly, desperately searching for something to anchor himself to. you let him grip your arm as he stared at the cabin. his face was pale.

annabeth, to her great credit, actually came over and explained to ethan her plans. she couldn’t hide the disgust or hatred in her eyes, but she actually talked to him nonetheless--you suspected someone like percy had forced her to be civil. she asked ethan a few questions about the interior and exterior of the cabin, like what kinds of designs he would like. ethan was too stunned to say anything at first, only nodding numbly, so you stepped in, trying to remember all the things he had once said he dreamed of having: “large mirrors. black floors. scales everywhere. lanterns and torches. am I missing anything, ethan?”

his mouth opened, then closed, his grip on your arm tightening. “uh, no. I don’t think so. thanks, [name]. chase.”

you elbowed him, not super subtly. “annabeth,” ethan corrected hastily.

“hm. yeah.” annabeth looked him up and down, eyes slightly narrowed. “I can do that.” she gave you a polite nod before turning around and walking off.

you were left with ethan, who was still looking dazed at the fact that there was an actual nemesis cabin being built. “what do you think?” you asked finally, a little nervously.

“I’m such a loser,” he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. “such a loser. [name]--”

“about time you realized.” you tried to make your voice light and playful. “don’t worry too much, ethan. you’re getting your cabin, after all.” you didn’t know how else to comfort him.

he blinked slowly, and you were shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes. “I wasn’t thinking--I never should have--”

you quickly shushed him, dragging him away from the construction site and toward the lake. you shooed away the naiads so the two of you could have a little privacy. you reach up and hastily brush tears away from ethan’s pale, cold face. “I know you feel guilty, ethan. you can see it on your face. it’ll be okay, all right? it’ll be fine. everything will work out. you did what was right in the end.”

he was shaking a little now, so you quickly took his hands in yours, pulling him closer to you. he clung tightly to you, as if you were the first person who has ever been kind to him. perhaps you really were. you lost track of time as the two of you stood on the dock hugging, years of memories and words unsaid passing between the two of you. presently you ran your hands through his hair, whispering comforting words to him. “it’ll be okay,” you tell him. “the war is over now. you’re safe. you did the right thing. I knew you would come back to me; I saw the good in you from the beginning.”

you didn’t even know if ethan heard or processed a word you said. all you knew was that with every whisper from your lips, his grip on you tightened, as if you were the most precious thing in the world that he could never bear to let go of.

there would be plenty more time for the two of you in the future. there would be words exchanged, fights and laughter and blasts from the past so intense and dark you might not make it out. but right now, as the two of you stood there, you were the only ones in the world. right now, this was all you needed. this was enough.

the first request I've received! thank you for loving my writing and for requesting, and I hope this met your expectations!

divider by @enchanthings

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72

[freddie-77-ao3]

For The Children That’ll Never Grow (Hope Should Have Left Humanity)

(clips)

In the Gardens of Bacchus, long after Reyna has left them, Octavian and Jason stay, drinking cold hot chocolate. Jason is putting on a show, making lightning mimic campers. At one point, he loses control, and a grapevine catches fire. They watch as it burns to ash. 

Octavian traces his spine with a finger, pulls in for a kiss, and whispers in his ear, you are capable of such beautiful destruction. 

From Octavian, it must be true. 

~~~~

On the way to Orthys, Octavian insists on sitting by his side. Jason leans into his touch. This may be the last time he sees his… his Octavian alive. 

Jason murmurs, “What if we fail?” against Octavian’s skin, barely audible in the frenzied sedan. But the way Octavian tenses means Jason knows that he’d heard it. 

Octavian swallows a lump in his throat. “It’ll end in fire. But, Jay, we won’t be the ones to burn.”

They’ll be dead. The Twelfth legion will be dead long before the mortal world begins burning. Jason’s throat bobs. “Yeah. I, uh, I love you, Tavi.”

“Love you too, Jay.” They sit in silence the rest of the drive.

They stay in silence after the drive too. When the fourteen year old is made Praetor, raised on the shield, still covered in the sticky ichor of the titans and the blood of the last Praetor. 

When Octavian has to guide him away from the bunks Jason has lived in since he was five. Has to wrangle him into the shower, carefully caressing scabs and still open cuts. 

Because these two boys are fourteen, and they love each other. These two boys are fourteen, and they have no idea what’s coming.

~~~

Sometimes, Jason likes it when he cries. The tears blur his sight, until he can pretend even airplanes are shooting stars across the night sky. 

When he wishes on them, it’s always for the same thing. For a family. For a sister (his sister, buried beneath tree branches, untouchable and locked away). A mother and a father too if he is lucky. 

~~~

Octavian lays down next to him on his bed in the Praetor’s room. He traces the nape of his neck. “You, Jason Grace, have been cursed with a great raisin d’etre. But it’s okay. You’ll live, you’ll survive.” Octavian doesn’t add that he only knows that Jason will survive longer than he will, and that Octavian will likely be dead before two years are out. Doesn’t add that from what Octavian has seen of Jason’s death, it is creeping closer, closer, close too. 

~~~

When Octavian gets cold, he gets cold. He gets cold deep in his bones, where it doesn’t leave for weeks. Jason found it funny, once, back when they were ten or so, because Octavian looked like a goddamned marshmallow, wrapped up in three pairs of pants, 2 shirts, a sweater, and a jacket. (And don’t even get him started on the socks). 

The point is, it was funny once, how much Octavian dreaded the cold. Once. Just not anymore. Because Octavian doesn’t care about the cold. Jason can see him shivering on his father’s altar at all hours of the day, but when Jason tries to persuade him to come down, he just… doesn’t. He says there’s no time.

Time for what? He had asked once, laughing. War’s over, Tavi. We have nothing but time. 

Octavian had scowled. Had told him he didn’t know what he was talking about. Then, he had pressed a knife into Jason’s hand, and told him to go stay in his room. 

Why? Tavi, we’re fine. War’s over, we survived. It isn’t over, he had responded, not yet.

~~~

"I need to sleep." Reyna admits, because she's always been able to advocate for herself. It's also her saying that she's overwhelmed, not that Octavian would judge her for simply saying it. "But call if you need me."

He won’t. Jason Grace is missing– possibly dead. But Octavian can’t tell Reyna this. Can’t tell anyone. Because that makes it all real, and if it’s real, Octavian can’t stand himself. So it isn’t real. Simple as that. 

[fanficwritingcentral]

This is Sparta! (AO3 link)

Summary: What happens when an immortal Spartan Prince needs something to do and decides that best thing is to make sure each generation of heros at least knows how to survive.

Or, Percy experiences his first Spartan training day at Camp.

Notes: This came to me with a vivid image of a grinning Hyacinthus standing in the middle of camp and Percy thinking this is the most attractive man I've ever seen and then I was like wait, why would Hyacinthus be there and then you get this.

Hope you enjoy 😘✌️.

Percy had started his first summer at Camp Half-blood after his quest (totally not thinking about the last line of the prophecy that hadn't come true yet), and after a few weeks, he finally got used to the routine things.

He'd wake up, get ready, have breakfast and then do whatever activities he'd assigned himself (yay being the only member of the Poseidon cabin).

Today he woke up like any other day, got ready like any other day and had breakfast like any other day.

He sat at his table, ate blue pancakes and let himself get absorbed in the noise of all the other campers chatting with each other at their tables (he was totally not feeling alone).

As Percy and the other campers finished their food, Chiron chimed his cup with his knife, cutting through the noise, Mr D. next to him not even twitching at the sound. "Heros, today we'll be doing Sparta day!" He announced once he had everyone's attention, "make sure to prepare yourselves and meet at the Big House in two hours time!"

All the campers cheered at the news, especially the Ares cabin who roared their approval. Soon, everyone began to chant Sparta while banging their fists on the table.

What was Sparta day, Percy thought as he looked around at everyone in confusion, and what does Chiron mean in preparing yourself. He tried to spot Annabeth at her table to see how she felt about this and saw that she was grinning and banging her fists in excitement like all the others.

Hopefully she can explain this to him after.

Hopefully.

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

"Sparta day is where we train like the Spartans used to." Annabeth said as she stood outside her cabin with Percy, making sure she had her cap, dagger and what seemed to be a golden compass that Percy had never seen her have before.

"Oh, ok" said Percy who had no idea how the Spartans used to train, "and what exactly is that like?"

Annabeth looked at him with a wild grin, "it's survival training, Lord Hyacinthus comes to camp-"

"Lord Hyacinthus?" Percy cut in, "isn't that Apollo's old boyfriend person?"

"Yes," answered Annabeth and then opened her mouth to continue on with her explanation.

But, "isn't he supposed to be a flower?" Percy asked, he was sure he knew this story.

Annabeth rolled her eyes and waved a hand, "that's old news, Seaweed brain," she said, "he got better."

"Oh." Percy didn't want to risk asking how does one get better from being a flower, he could feel Annabeth was getting a little inpatient.

"Now," Annabeth said, "as I was saying. Lord Hyacinthus comes to camp and sends everyone over 10 years old into a random area in the woods and we have until the sun sets to get back. Younger and newer campers like you are sent to areas closer and older and experienced campers like me are sent further."

Percy rolled his eyes at how proud Annabeth sounded with including herself as a more experienced camper than him. "What can we take with us?"

Annabeth patted her pockets, "only what can fit in here."

"What happens if we don't make it out in the time limit?"

"Lord Hyacinthus brings you back in front of everyone and it's the worst. Everyone knows you failed and you have to wait until next Sparta day to redeem yourself."

"Got it, get back in time or face ultimate shame."

"Exactly." She nodded.

"Thanks for that Wise Girl," Percy brushes a hand through his hair, "now I guess I need to get ready."

Annabeth raised her eyebrow, "do you know what you'll need?"

"Uh," he paused, "yes?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes, "come on Seaweed brain, let's go get you ready."

~~~~~~~~~

Percy made his way back to the the Big House with Annabeth and joined in with the crowd of campers that had gathered outside. The campers chatted about what might happen in the training and the air buzzed with their excitement.

Chiron stood in front of them all and next to him stood an extremely beautiful man that almost looked feminine, with wild hair, smooth tan skin and a perfectly symmetrical face. The man also wore a wreath of leaves on his head. Percy was sure he had never seen him before, but something about him felt familiar.

Percy elbowed Annabeth, "who's that," he whispered to her, nodding to the beautiful man with crossed arms looking over everyone with a frown that did nothing to dampen his attractiveness, "is that Lord Hyacinthus?"

Annabeth snorted, "definitely not Seaweed Brain, that's Mr D."

Percy quickly looked back at the man, "are you serious?"

"Yep," she said, "everytime Lord Hyacinthus visits, Mr D. always changes his form to that."

"Why?" Percy asked looking back at her.

Annabeth's face became a little pink and avoided Percy's eyes, "well, Lord Apollo named Lord Hyacinthus most beautiful among men for a reason."

"Do you mean Mr D. likes his brother's boyfriend," Percy whispered harshly to Annabeth, "doesn't he have a wife?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "This is the Greek Parthenon," she said with a hint of exasperation. "Everyone cheats on everyone here."

Her face flushed again as she continued, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Look, you’ll understand better once you meet Lord Hyacinthus."

Percy snorted and turned back to the two Camp Directors, "ok Wise Girl, ok."

"Attention Heros!" Chiron shouted, ensuring all eyes were on him, "Lord Hyacinthus will be here soon. Make sure you have everything you believe is necessary to survive in the woods. Those under ten years old, you will be doing your daily activities as normal with some weapons training later on with Lord Hyacinthus."

The older campers let out loud groans at these words.

"Tomorrow will be your turn as it has always been." Chiron said in a long suffering tone.

He then cleared his throat, "Now, let me go over the rules again, for the new campers, first timers and veterans of survival training."

But, just as Chiron opened his month announcing rule one, the sound of an engine cut him off. As the sound got closer and louder, Percy could tell it was the sound of a motorbike, and looking around Percy saw campers nudging each other with grins. Annabeth next to him stood straighter and her grey eyes glimmered with excitement, "is this Lord Hyacinthus?" Percy whispered to her.

"Yes," she whispered back, "now stop talking."

Percy crossed his arms and huffed, suddenly a motorbike braked right in front of where Chiron and Mr D stood. The motorbike was a pearlescent white with images of swans detailed all over it. The man on the bike wore dark blue denim jeans and a black leather jacket, his helmet glimmered gold and when he took it off, it uncovered dark loose curly hair.

"I'll take it from here Chiron," Lord Hyacinthus said with a smooth voice and an audible grin, "and Dionysus," he paused then continued with a deeper voice, "don't you look well."

Mr D smirked, "nice to see you too, Hyacinthus."

The two looked at each other for a while and as they did the temperature seemed to get hotter, the sun shone brighter and just before it started to get uncomfortable, Lord Hyacinthus turned around. "Touchy, touchy," he said laughing softly and then smiled widely at everyone.

Finally seeing his face, Percy understood what Annabeth meant. Lord Hyacinthus was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, even more than how Mr D made himself look. Lord Hyacinthus' hair curled artfully around his smooth tanned face, unblemished other than a stark white scar near his left eyebrow that seemed to go into his hair. His grin was warm and inviting and made his purple eyes crinkle attractively.

Percy felt his cheeks tingle and his face went warm as he looked at Lord Hyacinthus and knew that he was bright red. Having a quick look around, he was thankful to see that he wasn't the only one looking flustered.

"Now," Lord Hyacinthus clapped his hands and rubbed them, "who's ready for survival day!"

All the campers cheered and Percy tried to subtly rub his ears from the noise as Annabeth cheered along right next to him.

Lord Hyacinthus laughed, "Wonderful! Now before I tag on from Chiron and go over the rules that I'm sure most of you know, I'd like to shout out to my wonderful beautiful children. I love you and I'm proud of you, you're doing amazing and we'll talk later," he then made a heart shape with his hands. Percy could hear a few low groans in response and swore he heard someone say quietly "by the gods dad stop who taught you that."

The God held the heart shaped over his head and turned side to side, ensuring everyone saw it. Bringing his hands down he then continued on, "Now, for survival day rules. Rule one: you must only take what you can hold on your body. Rule two: you must not seek to harm or sabotage another camper. Rule three: you must make it back here before sunset. Rule four:," he grinned sharply, "survive."

A sharp clap sounded in the area and Percy felt a slight weight in his pocket. What is that, Percy thought and reached in to the pocket and took out a golden compass he had seen Annabeth hold earlier.

"The compass you newbies now hold," Lord Hyacinthus said while bringing down his hands, "are all pre set to point back to camp, they are only pre set for this year, next year you're on your own. Is everything understood?"

The campers screamed "YES!" collectively and Percy again rubbed his ears.

Lord Hyacinthus laughed, "Excellent! Now," he brought his hands out, "get to it." And clapped sharply again.

Percy blinked and found himself suddenly in the middle of the woods. The noise of the creaking trees, leaves rustling and bugs buzzing now surrounded him. "Ok," he said to himself, " I just have to get back to camp, easy."

He looked at the thick forest of trees in front of him, holding Riptide in pen form in one hand and the compass in the other, "just easy."

[tsarisfanfiction]

Truth Comes Out of His Well (Chapter 14)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Lee Fletcher, Kronos, Apollo, Apollo Cabin (and many more) As always, @stereden is responsible for the accompanying podfic! There is a tissue warning for this chapter, per stereden's insistence. I'd say I'm sorry, but... << Chapter 13 Listen to chapter 14 on AO3

Lee didn’t tell Tris that Kronos had lied.  Maybe it was cruel, but he couldn’t let Tris think that it was because of him, that Lee hadn’t warned Silena because if he had, Tris would’ve died.

Even if that was the truth.

Tris didn’t need the guilt from that; it hadn’t been his decision, it had been Lee’s choice to make and it was one he would take the responsibility for, if it came down to it.  If they didn’t manage to escape whatever trap Kronos was going to set.

Kronos had grilled him on Silena’s lies, the same as usual, while Alabaster continued to hold Tris at knife point, so by the time the two of them had been left alone again, Tris throwing himself at Lee for more of their pale imitations of hugs, Lee’s tears had dried.

His brother hadn’t let go of him until their next visitor, one carrying food and fresh torches to replace the ones that had almost burnt themselves out.

The fallout of Silena’s lies happened gradually.

It wasn’t usual for Kronos to meet with his demigods in front of Lee.  Sometimes he did, as a test of their loyalty, but for the most part Kronos seemed to prefer saving his truth sensing abilities for his spies.

Lee hadn’t seen Reuben in a long time, and had hoped that meant he’d been stationed elsewhere, so he didn’t have to deal with the Roman demigod glowering at him and still reminding him of Marcus, the kid Lee had never met but mourned regardless.�� He was not happy when Kronos led him into his cell, and the way he tensed must have alerted Tris, who was curled up next to him, because his younger brother raised his head and watched the new arrival cautiously.

Reuben sneered at both of them, but didn’t say anything.  His shoulder was bandaged, blood spotting through the fabric, and his arm was stuck in a sling.  Lee realised then that he must have been involved in one of the raids one of the spies had reported, and hoped none of the campers, from either camp, had been killed.

“My flying chariot,” Kronos said, his voice level but frozen cold, dangerous.  “What happened?”

Reuben sent Lee another filthy look before focusing on the titan, straightening his spine.  “As expected, we were attacked yesterday,” he reported.  “There were almost twice the numbers we had been told about – the graecus spawn of Mars were led by that bitch with an electric spear.”  He spat, carefully away from Kronos but not so carefully away from Lee and Tris.  “We were prepared for them and drove them back, only for the fucking archers to ambush us from behind.”

Lee and Tris both froze, and Silena’s lie suddenly made sense.  It was the Apollo cabin, with the Ares cabin, always was going to be, but Silena had kept them quiet as what, some sort of apology to Lee?  She was willing to throw Clarisse into the lion’s den but decided to protect the Apollo cabin?

While Lee couldn’t say he was mad that his siblings had been given an advantage and a greater chance of survival, he was still mad that she was spying at all, and that, worse, she was picking and choosing who to endanger.  Silena and Clarisse were supposed to be friends.

Then again, Silena was supposed to be his friend, too.  So much for that.

The look Kronos sent Lee told him that the titan, too, had realised the omission and why.  Disconcertingly, a smirk crossed his face, which Lee didn’t like at all.  He expected anger, not satisfaction.

“And my chariot?”

“The fucking archers,” Reuben repeated.  “Their bastard leader snuck on while the Mars spawn led a second frontal assault, and started raining arrows down on us.”

He threw something down on the ground, broken and blood-stained, but it wasn’t the sharp point of the arrow that caught Lee’s attention, but the fletching.  Feathered vanes, two red and one gold.

Lee would know Michael’s arrows anywhere.

“When I get my hands on that fucker…” Reuben snarled, and Lee tensed, even though he knew he couldn’t do anything.  Listening to his younger brother get threatened did not sit well with him at all.

“If he continues to be a presence on the gods’ side of the war, I am sure you will get an opportunity,” Kronos said mildly, and Lee hated that it was true.  He also hated that Michael was on Kronos’ radar, but he knew his younger brother well enough to know that even if he wasn’t head counsellor, if Lee was still in camp and in charge, Michael would still be causing enough of a nuisance for Kronos to get on his radar.

Michael had a talent for that.  Just ask Clarisse.

The rest of Reuben’s report was much the same; a recounting of how Michael had turned their own flying chariot into a weapon against them as the other archers rained arrows into them and the Ares campers destroyed the convoy.

They hadn’t killed anyone, though.  Injuries had happened – on both sides, Reuben made sure to specify, seeming entirely too happy about hurting Lee’s siblings and friends – and some of them seemed to be nasty, but neither side had lost any demigods.

Monsters had been a different case, but Lee didn’t mind that, not when monsters were the constant threat.  He still wasn’t sure how the defected demigods were managing to work with them without living in fear of being attacked.

Neither Reuben nor Kronos stayed in the room after the report was finished; Reuben hadn’t lied, and Kronos clearly saw no reason to believe he had.  Sadly, while Reuben stalked out of the room without picking up Michael’s arrow, Kronos wasn’t so unobservant.  He hadn’t left Lee with anything that could possibly be a weapon for a year, and had yet to slip up.  He scooped it up off of the floor, admiring the fletching for a moment, before walking out of the room.

The door slammed shut and the bolt slid into place.

Tris curled up against Lee’s side again.  “Michael’s in danger,” he mumbled.

“He was already in danger,” Lee admitted.  “We’ve all been in danger since Luke stole the lightning bolt.  Michael’s smart enough not to take stupid risks.”  There were other reasons why he might, but Lee wasn’t going to dwell on those.  He certainly wasn’t going to let Tris dwell on them.

His brother mumbled something indistinctly, shuffling in place a little bit.  Then, “he showed them,” he muttered, loud enough for Lee to hear him.  “Kronos and his followers.  They underestimated him and he made them pay.”

Lee had to smile at least a little bit at that, even if he was still worried that Michael was painting too big a target on himself to be able to keep pulling the underestimation off.  “Yeah, he did,” he still said, because he was still a little proud of him for it.

The second fallout of Silena’s lies came a few meals and bathroom visits later.

Alabaster threw the door open and stalked in, not giving either of them so much as a greeting before grabbing hold of Tris, prying him away from Lee, and hauling him bodily out of the room as the younger boy fought to get free, screaming when he realised he couldn’t.  Lee’s wrists took another battering as he tried to lunge forwards, to get to his little brother, only to be pulled up short by the restraints the same way he always was.

“Tris!” he shouted.  “Tris! ”

“Lee! ” Tris screamed back, but he was no match for the son of Hecate and was all but carried away.  Alabaster slammed the door shut behind them, trapping Lee in his room.

It was the first time he’d been left alone in the room with the door shut.

He hated it.

Tris’ screaming quickly faded away, once the door was shut, and no amount of struggling got Lee free from the cuffs.  No amount of shouting or screaming got any response, either, and Lee was left staring helplessly at the closed door, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

The last time Tris was torn away from him, it was for Michael’s report meeting, and he’d been returned quickly afterwards.  Kronos had been there, though.  The titan’s absence this time felt like a lack.

He knew that Kronos likely wasn’t around.  He’d been spending more time on the Princess Andromeda – Lee’s spine hadn’t so much as tingled when the titan had said it, so it was true – waiting for the reported sabotage attack.  It was to give the camp’s spies the illusion that the boat really was Kronos’ primary base, but Lee hadn’t really cared as long as it kept the titan far, far away from him and Tris.

Now, he did care, because he didn’t know why Tris had been taken, and if they hurt him…  Lee didn’t know why they would, when neither of them had done anything to provoke Tris being hurt, but the look in Reuben’s eyes when he’d threatened Michael, the glowers some of the other demigods had sent him when they saw him…

He was crying again, terrified of what was happening to his little brother and hating his helplessness.  Hating, hating, hating it.

When the door opened again, the bolt sliding back with a grating squeal, his heart jumped up into his throat.  Hope, that Tris was coming back.  Fear, that Tris was hurt.

Kronos’ golden eyes were the first thing he saw.  The second was the large, dark figure next to him.  Not Tris.

Then Kronos shoved hard and the other figure stumbled in, crashing to the floor the same way Tris had, that first time Alabaster had thrown him in.  The titan didn’t even bother entering the room, shutting the door without a word and trapping Lee and his new companion in together.

Lee did not like the implications.  Where was Tris?

And who had just been locked in with him?

The large figure laid down, still on the floor for several long moments, before rolling over with a groan.  Their hands were tightly secured behind their back, and the torches were bright enough that Lee could see that they were mutilated, fingers crushed.

The figure groaned again, awkwardly pulling themselves up onto their knees, and Lee’s heart sank.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see Beckendorf, really.  The son of Hephaestus was a good guy, friendly with everyone, and Lee couldn’t see him agreeing to be mutilated for a deception.  It was just that they were both prisoners, now, and Kronos’ lie to Silena was ringing in his ears, the promise that he would spare the second demigod infiltrator that had sounded so sincere, if Lee hadn’t known differently.

Beckendorf made sense.  Silena loved him; Lee could believe her lying to try desperately to keep him safe, even if it meant throwing Percy and other key demigods in the war effort in front of the manticore.  Beckendorf made a painful amount of sense, and Lee hoped he could find a way out, somehow.

Somehow.

Beckendorf groaned again, but it was quieter, and in the torchlight, his dark eyes flickered amber.  Lee suspected he had a concussion – he didn’t look overly aware of his surroundings, even if he was still able to move.  That didn’t bode so well for escaping.

Those dark eyes settled on Lee, and widened.

“Lee?” he rasped, shuffling closer on his knees. He wavered from side to side, but managed to close the distance between them in short order.  “Lee, is that you?”

Lee wasn’t a short guy.  He was considerably taller than Tris – understandable, given that Tris still had a growth spurt or two left to hit – and a similar height to Luke.  Most of the demigods working for Kronos were shorter than Kronos-as-Luke, which meant that even though he was usually trapped sitting down, Lee still didn’t feel short.

Beckendorf was a big guy.  Even on his knees, injured and concussed, Lee felt dwarfed next to him.  He knew that several new kids tended to find Beckendorf intimidating, with his build, even though he was actually one of the sweetest temperaments in camp.  To Lee, it was almost a comfort, to be in his shadow again.

“Yeah,” he said, raising his head to meet his friend’s eyes.  Beckendorf only held his gaze for a moment, before he was looking at the restraints, thick cuffs of metal that Lee had long since learned to hate.

“How long have you been here?” the other demigod asked him, wavering in place again and bracing his shoulder against the wall to stay upright.  “You look awful.”  He sounded worried, but Lee was far more worried about him.

“You need to worry about yourself,” he said.  “You’ve got to get out of here, Beckendorf.”

Despite the concussion, Beckendorf’s eyes were determined.  “You need to get out of here,” he said.

“I can’t,” Lee admitted, even though he really, really wanted to.  “They’ve got Tris.  If I misbehave…” he broke off in a choked-up sob.  “Get out, Beckendorf,” he said.  “They don’t want me dead. I’ve survived this long.  I can survive a bit longer.  You… they’re going to kill you.”

Beckendorf let out a sigh that sounded fatally amused.  “I told Percy the same thing,” he murmured.  “To run and leave me.  I hope he got out in time.”  He steeled himself, pulling himself up using his shoulder against the wall.  “If I manage it, I’ll come back for you, Lee,” he promised.  “You and Tris.”  Lee managed a thin smile.

“I’d appreciate it.”

Watching him stagger, with his ruined hands clamped behind his back and a thick, heavy metal door bolted from the outside between him and freedom, Lee knew Beckendorf’s odds of actually escaping were slim to none.

Still, he tried to send out a prayer, to Apollo, to Hephaestus.  Please, Dad, Lord Hephaestus.  Get him out.   Apollo hadn’t responded to any of his prayers since he’d arrived, so Lee was pretty certain that Kronos was somehow blocking them, but he still had to try.

Beckendorf had scarcely taken two stumbling steps towards the door when it flew open, Kronos breezing in.  He was followed by Ethan, who looked a little bit singed and disquiet, and Alabaster, who mimicked Kronos’ sweeping walk.  Like Ethan, he showed signs of getting a little too close to something that went boom.

Kronos looked completely untouched.

He was also carrying a massive scythe, and Lee had heard about Backbiter in passing, both back in camp when Percy had garbled an explanation of where Luke had gone, and also from some of Kronos’ demigods since his capture.

A single sharp gesture had the two demigods grabbing onto Beckendorf, and the concussion seemed to delay his reactions just a split second too long.  When he went to fight back, his muscular bulk a weapon even when he didn’t have the use of his arms, Alabaster whacked him in the back of the head with the hilt of Ethan’s sword.

Beckendorf crumpled to the ground, and Lee’s stomach started climbing up his throat, because he knew Kronos had no plans to let Beckendorf live, but it hadn’t occurred to him that he might kill him right there, in front of him.

Suddenly, there was a part of him that was glad Tris was elsewhere, a stroke of luck to spare the preteen from seeing someone else killed in front of him.

Neither Ethan nor Alabaster were particularly bulky; Ethan was a lithe swordsman, and Lee had yet to work out what Alabaster’s weapon of choice was, although he was clearly talented with magic.  Between the two of them they just about got Beckendorf dragged up onto his knees again.  Dazed from the blow to the back of his head, which had probably given him another concussion on top of the first one, Beckendorf didn’t even fight back.

The silver bracelet dropped to the floor, and Silena appeared.  She looked nervous, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight broadcast towards her.

“Charlie?” she whispered.  “Charlie? ”

Beckendorf stirred.  Lee couldn’t see his face, but he saw the confused tilt of his head.  “Silena?  Silena… Lee.   Silena, you have to… Lee… Tris…  Kronos has them… Save them. ”

He didn’t seem to care that Kronos was in front of him.  He didn’t seem to realise why he could see Silena, either, and Lee started to sob.  Maybe it was a blessing that Beckendorf was concussed enough to not realise she was a spy, that she was the one that had betrayed him.

“It’s okay, Charlie,” Silena said, softly, but there were tears running down her face, and there was the awkwardness of uncertainty in her voice.  “You’re safe, now.  You’re all safe.  And once this is over-”

Kronos stepped closer, forcing himself into the centre of attention.  “I hate to break up this touching conversation,” he said, “but I have one small correction to make.”

The scythe whistled through the air, coming to a halt resting next to Beckendorf’s neck.  Ethan and Alabaster both made themselves short, crouching down underneath the trajectory of the swing.

Silena gasped, and her eyes filled with horror.  “My Lord-”

“You lied to me, Silena,” he said.  “Actions have consequences, you stupid girl.  I have been generous, sparing the lives of the campers because they are only children who do not understand, yet this is how you repay me?”

“No, no-”  Her hands came up to her mouth in horror.  For the first time in years, her tears started to make a mess of her make-up.  “No, my Lord, you said- you said you’d spare-”

“So I did,” Kronos agreed.  “But tell her, Lee.  You knew, after all.”

She blinked, as though she hadn’t even noticed Lee was there.  Lee had been quite content to not be noticed.  “Lee?”

“Yes, Lee,” Kronos mimicked when he didn’t respond immediately.  “Tell her.”

There was a threat in the tone, a promise that if he didn’t, there would be a price to pay, and Lee couldn’t risk Tris.  He couldn’t.

He raised his head, and she recoiled, probably at his tear-stained face and what it meant.

Lee didn’t take any pleasure from what was effectively an I told you so.  “He lied,” he rasped hoarsely.  “He lied and he’s got Tris and I couldn’t tell you.”  It was a warning far too late to be of any good.

Kronos smirked, a far darker look than Luke would have ever pulled.  “From the mouth of our own lie detector,” he said.  “Actions have consequences, Silena.  Let this be a warning.  The next time you lie to me, I’ll burn your entire camp to the ground.”  He pulled the scythe back.  “Any last words for your betrayed love?”

“No, no, no,” Silena sobbed.  “Charlie I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.  No, please, don’t, my Lord, please-”

“Silena,” Beckendorf mumbled, and she fell silent.  “Silena, I love you.”  He raised his head and looked straight at her.  “Save them.”

The scythe fell.

Chapter 15>>>

[ask-half-blood-hill]

Meet the Demigods: Nathan Delacroix

Good morning, campers! Live from Cabin Two, it's Sephora! Today, we're bringing you a special interview on 'Meet the Demigods!' You all know him, you all adore him. He's the easy, breezy, and just so pleasing son of Zeus- Nathan!

Q1: Can you describe how you look?

"I have shaggy brown hair, blue eyes- like the sky- and pale skin. I'm about five foot ten, and I'm fifteen years old. I don't usually socialize much, but I'm not opposed to making friends. I always have emergency equipment on me, so if you're in a pinch, just holler and I'll be there!"

Q2: As a child of Zeus, what's it like being the top of the demigod tierlist?

"Expectations are really... stressful. I mean, I know I'm strong, but there's tons of demigods here that are easily stronger than I am! I look up to everyone, more than they should look up to me. My dad is King of the Gods, but please don't think of me as the pinnacle of demigod strength and status..."

Q3: What do you have in your bag?

"Survival equipment- you never know when you'll need it. Rope, matches, ambrosia, nectar, bandages, splints, money and drachmas, a celestial bronze pocket knife, a multi-tool, and a small cooking pot. What's the pot for? Boiling water to make it safe to drink."

Q4: What's your mom like?

"I don't have a mom. Actually, I have two dads- Zeus, and my mortal dad. It's not really unheard of for Zeus to fall for a man, especially my dad. He's a model, so of course he's got the attention of Zeus... I was kind of left on a doorstep and the rest is history."

Q5: Is there anyone in camp you like hanging out with?

"The Demeter kids are really cool, and calm. Aurora and I often take care of the gardens outside of the cabin, and Elliot and I go for hikes in the forest when the event-summoned monsters are gone. Lillian likes drawing, and I have tons of her doodles up in my cabin."

Q6: How do you feel about the other Big Three kids?

Jasper scares me, and he's definitely the powerhouse of every demigod here- he just hides it. Reagan is also pretty strong, and a lot more forward. She's nice, but she definitely has an issue when her strength is questioned. It comes from her home life, I know- but still... I'd stay on both their good sides. They have this sort of rivalry with each other..."

Q7: If you could design the Zeus cabin, what would you do to make it more comfortable?

"Maybe turn it from a cold marble temple into an actual cabin. Wood floors, painted walls, and statues that don't stare into your eyes when you're trying to get ready for the day. I know dad likes his presence being known but... Really, that statue creeps me out..."

Q8: I've always wondered- do you have any unique powers?

"I can turn into an eagle- the symbol of my father. I mean, I can fly without it, but it makes it easier to control, and it's a little less draining. I can't carry heavy weight though, or fight in that form. I only like doing it when I have to travel far distances safely, alone."

[nepobabyeurydice]

Athena Cabin in The Dagger & The Joyless Eye

Annabeth Chase (Anna Elizabeth Wayne): 16 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. Head of the Cabin, uses her dagger, but she's one of the more versatile fighters of the camp.

Malcolm Pace: 16 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. Second in command, uses a shotgun, but has a short knife to use once he's out. He's from a rich family, and his dad died in a car accident, so his rich, New England grandparents basically kept him like a prized pet, so he's very survivalist when he has the chance to be because he wants to be self-sufficient.

Dorian Musiyenko: 18 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. Third in command, ranged javelin. From Ukraine, his father's abusive, and he's now permanently moved into the states. His distance from the normal godly center made him arrive to camp late, after the power structure we see now was established. He has excellent oratory skills, but has no confidence to use them.

Julieta Montego: 14 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. Her grandparents kicked her mother out when she showed up with Julieta, and she was essentially abandoned at Camp Half-Blood around the time Leyah Tuiaa arrived. Her biggest dream is to be a teacher, but is pessimistic that she'll survive long enough to do so.

Sophia Anagonye: 15 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. She was raised in ARGUS under Daemon Rose (Leo Lane)'s tutelage, and escaped during her third mission with Athena's help. Her other parent, for now, remains a mystery. She's an excellent spy and tracker, and prefers her short sword.

Nestor Akimichi: 14 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. His mother is an EMT, and they have a great relationship, he's passionate about art, and although he's practically made to pursue science, he thinks it's too easy and refuses to be sucked into the evil scientist game. He uses a spear, and is one of the two people who can put up with the Victor twins without dying. He uses a xipthos

Archimedes Morales: 13 as of 'The flail of lashing hail'. No chill, he's the beloved baby of the Athena Cabin, but he also blares reggaeton at three a.m. He lives in Argentina during the school months, and is often out of sync with the summer campers. He wants to a morally neutral evil scientist, much to Annabeth's despair. He prefers to use a dagger.

Dead but mentioned:

Oscar Reis Ferraz: The boy who washed up on Circe's Island. He's a guinea pig now.

Leyah Tuiaa: The Cabin head before Annabeth, she was an excellent leader, but she lacked the knowledge Annabeth would've gained while studying the Roman Pantheon for the quest of the seven and was killed by the cult.

[happyk44]

Thinking about Jason hearing that Percy ran away from home to hide from the Greek pantheon and no one can find him but rumor has it that he's being hidden away by some powerful entities that no one, not even the gods, can encroach on without it possibly breaking out another war.

He's so jealous. He wishes he could run away. He tries to live at Camp Half-Blood because it's a little quieter, calmer. Less strict and less needy when it comes to him because to the people at CHB Jason is just the super cool son of Zeus. Some of them know about his exploits but they weren't there when he executed them so in their minds he'll never size up against Percy and he's mostly left alone.

But Camper Jupiter and New Rome keeps dragging him away and he loves them, he does, he loves his friends, his former Cohort, the wolves, his home, but he is so tired and he just wants to disappear again. Except this time he doesn't want anyone to find him.

He'll even accept stolen memories again, if it means that he isn't found and dragged into quests and fights and teaching new trainees and whatever else they can wring out of him. He doesn't feel like a wet cloth being squeezed. He used to, especially after the first war, when there was no reprieve despite what he had done. He felt like they were trying to wrong every drop of water out of him. But it was fine because he could stick himself under he tap and get full again.

Now he feels like a chicken. Cut open, skinned, with grubby hands pulling his meat apart, and dragging any sharp thing his bones to make sure they're getting every little bit of their money's worth out of his meat.

He's not inanimate like a toy soldier, he's just dead and emptied out with no way to fix himself.

He sinks into the deep shadows one night and wonders if he should just kill himself. It's not honorable, so he's never done it in the past, even when the thought used to whoosh across his mind multiple times a day and keep him awake at night, but if he's already dead then what does it matter?

As he lays on the dark grass, he twirls a butter from sinner around in between his fingers. A knife, especially a butterknife, would be weak, but there are spears in the armory. He could raise up four of them - one at his heart, one at the top two on either side of his head. One quiet swing of his hands and they all come crashing in on him. Pierced through the heart, stabbed through the brain. How would he be fixed when the two parts that kept him alive were destroyed?

Maybe he'd add a fifth spear side by side to the one at his heart. Just to be safe.

He's still considering it when the ground swallows him whole. It's endlessly dark and cool. The emptiness relaxes him. He can barely think as he falls down, down, down. He can barely feel the fall. Sensation doesn't exist in this void.

It's so quiet.

Then he hits the ground. Soft asphodels cushion him. He exhales. The sky is black and impossible to see through. There are a few sparkling lights - but nothing like the stars he's so used to it. Deep in his gut, he knows they are not stars.

They're something else.

He sits up slowly. He should be more concerned, but all he can focus on is the idea of death. That he has been stolen away to die. If he has, then he will not have to kill himself in such a dishonourable way. He'll fight just enough to make himself seem desperate to survive, but in the end...

There's no one around him though. He stands and turns around. A barn stands a few hundred feet from him with roaming cows. There are a few chickens scattered nearby. Most of them are far off in the distance. Jason can't seem them that well, little specks to his vision, but his hearing has always been better. There are rivers here, not particularly close, but somewhere. The waters rush at different speeds. There's a large building, several smaller ones encased behind a wall.

He pauses.

The Underworld. He's sure of it. But why? He can't imagine why someone here would want to steal him away, much less kill him.

He doesn't get a step forward before Pluto appears before him. For less than a second, he's Greek - casual but neat black clothes and long black hair. Then his Roman stiffness kicks in. His hair cuts short, looking soft in the quiet air. His clothes, still black, are more streamlined against him, jewelry hung around his neck and wrists. Rings and earrings adorn him.

He looks so much more handsome than Jason had ever envisioned.

"Hazel has concerns," he says. And his voice is deep and darkly melodic.

Distantly he remembers Nico telling Frank that before Mors, Pluto used to call out of the dead if they were in a place he could not easily reach, and they would come like a sailor to a siren. Hazel had agreed. While she had never really interacted with her father in death, her resurrection was not as official as it should've been. So when he spoke, sometimes she heard that siren song.

Was it because Jason was so close to death that he could hear it now? He should be questioning why Pluto wanted to do away with him, how Hazel factored into it, why now, why here - but he could only feel tense desperation for the relief from the endless pounding in his heart and shattered nature of his skin.

"She has been practicing viewing living souls, and has noticed changes in your behaviour that made her seek yours out. She believes you are going to kill yourself." Pluto eyed Jason over. "She'll be disappointed to know she's correct."

Jason exhales. "Are you going to kill me?"

Pluto stares at him. Jason feels tiny. He's always been the tallest person in the room - at least until Frank shot up to 6'3" - but Pluto is much taller, and the dark void of his eyes has Jason feeling like a child about to be scolded for trying to touch the stove.

"No," Pluto says. "Why would you think that?"

He can't answer that question so he just looks away. Pluto clicks his tongue, unamused, then grabs Jason by his jaw. He has to bend to get in close to Jason's face, forcibly keeping his eyes on him. Jason draws up to his tiptoes with Pluto's hold.

Then he lets him go. Jason's heels hit the ground.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are autistic?"

Jason pauses, then slowly shakes his head. ADHD and dyslexia are the demigod gold standard. He knows that one of the kids from the second cohort had been diagnosed with both when he was very young, long before he even made his way to the Wolf House. But that's it.

Pluto rolls his eyes. "Of course not. They barely treat PTSD there, why would they bother to give a diagnosis that requires further accomodation?" His hand is cold against Jason's shoulder as he's suddenly marched forward. The vows give plaintive calls to Pluto as he passes by. He strokes the snouts of the ones closes to him. "You're burnout. You're traumatized. You need to breathe."

Jason doesn't have a chance to say a word to any of that before he's thrown in the back of a cart. It's hitched to a large bull that immediately begins walking very briskly. He barely gets himself upright before Pluto hops on effortlessly, and the bull takes off at full speed.

The cart itself is comfortable, even as Jason topples around while Pluto somehow manages to stay perfectly upright. He holds no reigns in his hands but the bull changes direction with every quick hand motion - left, right, forward, slightly left, slightly right.

They pull to a stop in front of a small cottage. Pluto hops off and helps Jason out.

"I'm sure Hazel will be fine to let you stay in her room."

Her room is a cottage? Jason wonders.

As though reading his mind, Pluto answers with a forceful push towards the door. "She did not like sharing the main castle as Nico does. Perfectly fine, many here choose to have their own homes outside the castle dwellings."

The door opens automatically and Jason is steered quickly inside. He stumbles over his own feet but Pluto simply keeps pushing him along, unbothered and keeping Jason upright the whole way. He doesn't get a chance to steal looks at the areas they pass by - a small kitchen and living room, he thinks - before he's pushed through an open door and onto a neatly made bed.

He rolls over, breathing hard. "Wait-"

"You'll stay here until you're better. Hazel asked how she could help you if you were going to kill yourself." Pluto gestures to the room. "Separation from stress should help. It's worked with many others in the past." He clicked his fingers and a shade appeared. She was small and young, a yellow transparency to her ghostly hue before her feet settled on the ground and she solidified in a real form. "This is Aster. She once struggled with what you are going through and has offered her assistance in keeping you safe from yourself."

"Wha-"

"Hello!" Aster chirped. She couldn't have been more than ten. "Happy to help."

She stuck her hand out. Baffled by the rapid swell of Informarion, Jason dazedly shoom it, still staring up at Pluto. "I-" He let go of Aftwr's hand. He doesn't know what to say, so the truth just falls out. "I just want to die."

Aster pouted, as Pluto shook his head. "No, you want things to stop. Dying is a distant thought for you, but appears to be the only option, hence your desire." He gestured around the room again. "You will have solitude, safety, and no responsibility. You will feel better with this kind of rest."

There are so many things at the tip Jason's tongue - denial, dismissals, desperate wheezing pleas to just kill him, just get over, just let it fucking end. But the breath in his throat chokes him.

Pluto watches him. The sternness on his face crumbles a violent feeling of inadequacy in Jason's heart. It spreads fast through his veins, sinking him with a fiery self-loathing. Thousands of heroes have crossed through the Underworld, honourable and pure.

Jason is a disgrace to all of them.

Aster grabs both hands and holds them tight. The bed shifts and he blinks. Pluto is next to him.

"My daughter and my son enjoy your company. It would hurt them if they were denied it because of your loss. I do not permit speaking with lost loved ones - it has caused far too much trouble in the past." Pluto reached out and ran his hand through Aster's hair as she pressed herself against Jason's knees. "You have gone through a great many things you should not have had to go through. You have done a great many things you should not have had to do. You deserve to rest, Jason."

He startles at the sound of his name in the god's voice. It's gentler than he has heard any god speak of him before. Like his name is a precious little bird, still cosied in the nest, instead of an eagle being ordered to strike its prey.

"Do you care for my daughter? Do you care for my son?"

Jason nodded, and gave a choked out, "Yes."

"Would you wish them rest if they were on the verge of shattering?"

"Of course," he breathed.

Pluto's eyes no longer felt like the void. Instead Jason could've sworn he was gazing into the dark night sky itself. "Then allow yourself the kindness you would have given them. You all have suffered. Your pain is no different than theirs."

Aster rose to her tiptoes. "Will he be seeing Pasi?"

"Later," Pluto said. "Pasithea will assist in your understanding of boundaries and grounding techniques. But it is clear people are not your strong suit right now." He tapped Jason in the middle of his chest. "So you will be allowed to adjust here in isolation until you are ready."

Distantly it sounded... Nice. Just staying in the cottage. Not having to do a thing. No one calling out to him for assistance. Maybe he could finally start designing the shrines for forgotten gods like he had planned years ago. Maybe he could finally sleep without his head screaming incoherent thoughts.

But, "It'll just come back."

He turned to stare just above Aster's head. Hazel had a full length mirror with vines wrapped around it propped up against the wall beside two darkly stained wooden doors. His face looked different. It always looked different.

He really couldn't remember a day where his reflection looked like him and not a stranger.

"It always comes back."

Pluto shrugged. "Then you'll stay." Jason stopped, his reflection blurring at out of his head while Pluto's words echoed in his head. "Several mortals have made the Underworld their home. Typically they are partners of someone here, or our children, but a few have stayed because it is calmer, safer, quieter on their senses and their mind. Naturally you'll do some work to earn your stay, but feeding chickens and filing papers has always been well received compared to the alternative of staying above."

Jason swallowed dry. Aster squeezed his hands and smiled up at him. "I was supposed to stay here." She shrugged. "My brain is different so it was hard. But then I got sick." She smiled up at Pluto. "I think it's still very nice here either way."

Pluto patted her head. "Who am I do deny a home to those who hear the call? The Underworld is unheard by the living. So if there are living who are drawn to stay here, surely they must be allowed."

Her smile turned to a bright beam. Jason swallowed dry again.

"I-"

"You have no choice," Pluto said firmly as he stood up. "Hazel would like you safe to yourself and healthy, Nico would like you safe to yourself and healthy. So you will stay until you are safe to yourself and healthy." He leaned down and flicked Jason's forward. "There will be no complaints, pup."

It takes Jason a few minutes to stop grappling with his thoughts around Pluto's words. But finally he croaks out a dry, "Do I have to eat a pomegranate?"

Aster laughs, stifling the noise against Jason's knees. Pluto's smile is warm, kind. It cuts through the emptiness in Jason's chest. The hollowness isn't filled through, but just enough to give him a glimpse of hope.

His hand is cool against Jason's cheek. "Only if you wish it," he says with a little pat and for the slightest second, Jason feels everything in his head quiet down.

Pluto takes his leave without another word or touch. Aster pats his knees and slips out the door after him. She'll just be right outside, she says as she closes the door behind her. Jason relaxes into the soft sheets. Hazel's ceiling is bare of any decoration, matte obsidian stone.

Jason stares and stares until the darkness of the ceiling begins to melt around him like a void. The void was nice. Calm, quiet nothingness. He closes his eyes and remembers the fall down through the shadows. He wonders if Pluto will let him experience that again. His breathing is steady under his hand. The distant crawl of his own skin melts away into the sheets. It's still there but fainter, more vague.

For the first time he can remember in the whole of his life, sleep hits him in minutes.

For the first time he can remember in the whole of his, it's nothing but good dreams.

[thesummerstorms]

so as I try to make a "world state" if you will for my PJO stuff, more and more characters keep appearing. (98% of them are solidly in NPC/Crowd Scene/Lore Entry status, but still.)

So far there's:

Living:

Della Bowers- Daughter of Apollo. Stereotypically, she's an archer and a musician. She's very angry. Her entire existence was inspired by the tone of Scylla's voice at the end of "Scyllla" from Epic the musical. Oldest surviving child of Apollo from either Camp, but was "graduated" (aged out/forced out) shortly after TLO and therefore wasn't around to help her siblings for Gaea. No healing ability whatsoever, but she accidentally curses someone with plagues when she gets angry and sings hymns to her father at some point. In Annabeth Wayne verses, she may or may not be opening for Black Canary.

Cameron "Cam" Wells- Daughter of Athena. Oldest surviving child of Athena still at Camp, but she regularly pretends to be Annabeth and Malcolm's "younger" sibling. Daughter of a medical researcher who used her father's old textbooks to teach herself how to help with basic first aid in the infirmary. She doesn't actually want to pursue medicine though; that's a necessity not a choice. She's Athena cabin's unofficial reference librarian, and forms something of a trio with Annabeth and Malcolm. Currently enrolled part time in community college to prolong her ability to stay at Camp.

Gianna Benenati- Daughter of Athena. 14. Youngest Athena kid to survive Gaea and Kronos. Wants to be a textile engineer. Used to be best friends with her similarly aged sister Isra, who was killed in battle.

Hector Mendoza Parra- Son of Athena. Newest and youngest member of Cabin 6. Arrived after Gaea. Very skeptical of the whole thing. The Campers low key think his name is bad luck because Hektor was a Trojan and also look at what Achilles did to him.

Reed- Most NPC of NPCs. Son of Demeter from somewhere in the Southern USA who is good at herbal remedies and will help the Apollo kids out with handling minor illnesses and pains in exchange for them putting out a little bit of sunshine for his herb garden in the winter. Dresses in camo a lot.

Louisa Cordero & Erik Patel- Former Athena Head Counselor and her second from when Annabeth was a small child. Graduated together when Annabeth was nine or ten, but as far as she knows they're probably still both alive. (If they aren't, she'd rather live in ignorance.)

Dead:

Agatha Nguyen- Daughter of Athena. Former Head Counselor before Annabeth. Used to fight with Luke, so she and Annabeth weren't as close as they could be, but she did train Annabeth's knife skills. "Graduated" at the end of The Lightning Thief, but was killed off-screen by monsters at least by The Titan's Curse while protecting a Satyr on a mission to find a new demigod.

Ianthe & Galen Hargrove- Twin children of Athena. Around Annabeth's age. Their first summer was during Sea of Monsters, and Tantalus's presence drove them to defect with an older daughter of Morpheus to the Titan Army. Annabeth barely knew either of them. Ianthe was killed in the Battle of Manhattan. Galen is probably dead, but no one's sure.

Emmanuel Belanger- Son of Athena who left Camp and refused to fight for either side during the Titan war. Tried to hide in the mortal world, but was killed by monsters when Gaea began to rise. Thought Annabeth was Luke's spy and never learned otherwise.

Isra El-Amin- Daughter of Athena. Was the same age as Gianna. Was the cabin "Weapon specialist". Haven't decided which battle she died in. I do flip flop back and forth between her and Gianna as to who survives/dies; right now Gianna is surviving only so she and Chiara can embarrass Nico with their modern Italian slang that no one else understands.

Emily (surname?)- Daughter of Athena. Was technically "co-counselor" with Annabeth during SOM due to Annabeth's age, but was too depressed to care or intervene at that point. Died off screen between SOM and TTC.

Jessie Holt- Unclaimed. Annabeth used to wonder if Jessie was an Athena kid, and Jessie helped weave burial shrouds after the Battle of the Labyrinth. However, they weren't close. Killed in the Battle of Manhattan.

Lydia- Daughter of Apollo. Had only minor healing abilities, but was targeted and ambushed by TA demigods due to being a medic during the Battle of Manhattan. Her real love was poetry, and Cam, her best friend, is working on compiling her poems into a manuscript for the camp library.

??? Name Undecided- Son of Aphrodite. Lydia's friend and Cam's frenemy, and as a result was sometimes voluntold into using his emotion-sensing abilities to help deal with distressed patients or their more distressed siblings/friends. Also wrote poetry, but Cam thought it was pretentious and now doesn't have the drafts to preserve. Mother writes semi-famous love poems. Killed in the Battle of Manhattan.

[eretzyisrael]

by Jack Engelhard

So this time it’s not 1,000 for one. Well, that’s an improvement. This time it’s 150 Arab terrorists in exchange for 50 Israeli hostages.

To some, that’s considered a win. Hey, look, we didn’t cave completely, only partly.

Did you get back all the hostages in this deal? That would have been something. But you didn’t. Abraham was also a lousy bargainer. Maybe that’s where this starts.

Frankly, I had intended to write something upbeat, especially when my IDF brothers in arms are fighting like lions inside the belly of the beast. (My guys were the Navy.)

But like you, dear reader, I am so damn depressed. Literally, where’s the light at the end of the tunnel?

I hardly hear any talk of victory any more. Mostly, the talk I’m hearing is about those “innocent Gaza civilians” and how Israel’s NUMBER ONE priority is to keep them safe.(Not Netanyahu and the government, thank G-d - they promise to go on to the end of Hamas and called its leaders "dead men walking" just last night.)

That’s the ballgame?

Secretary of State Antony Blinken thinks hardly about anything else, which is why he keeps traveling to Israel…to press the point.

There he is again this week…also to put the squeeze on Israel for “the day after,” which is a column for later.

He’s getting ready…with Biden, and the State Department…to swamp Israel ought of existence through another two-state solution, only this time with MORE land for the Arabs.

You heard that right. More land and THIS TIME they will be happy campers. Blinken is betting on this, with Israel’s money.

Which Israeli government will push back and resist? Or will it always be back to square one?

I am not confident. History tells us that leftist elements in Israel are always ready to concede for the “sake of peace in our time.” Per Neville Chamberlain.

Will it constantly be the same merry-go-round?

Nor can I forget the peaceniks who gave us Oslo, and the man, Ariel Sharon, who brought us to this pass when he gave this good Jewish land over to the Arabs. Hence, Hamas.

In earlier columns we proved that there are no innocent Gazans. They are all the same. One part does the killing, the other part does the cheering.

Dear Israel…how often will you let them play you like a fiddle? The enemy seems always a step ahead of you. Certainly the case Oct 7. Thereafter, as well.

We’re supposed to be so smart. They never produced an Einstein, and we have won 214 Nobel Prizes to their ZERO…all for what, when it comes to our survival.

Yet so often they outsmart us. We’re told that the 150 terrorists being released are really good terrorists. Quite harmless. Yet among them, we are learning, there exists car rammers, knife stabbers, suicide bombers, and outright murderers. BUT…they have been koshered by the government because they are only 99.9 percent like Hamas, not 100 percent. They did not succeed in their plans to murder Jews.

So, as of this writing, the deal is on…that is, for this group of 50…200 more to go.

Why art thou downcast O my soul? (David)

Because I know what’s coming. Hamas is going to drag this along for two years…one gift at a time…five, 10, maybe 20 hostages incrementally.

I so terribly hope I am wrong.

They can play this game down to one hostage left to taunt us with a Shalit all over again.

Meantime, the IDF will be stymied, the leadership, stalemated.

Let it not be so.

Hamas has this all figured out. Do the Israelis? How is it that Hamas gets to call the shots? Yes, Israel should have insisted on the release of all the hostages at once.

Or else, fire and brimstone of Biblical proportions. It’s what Churchill would have done…and did. Victory at all costs.

After all that, there is this: my niece Miriam, whose children live in Beer-Sheva…anyway, Miriam sends me the talks given by the Rebbe.

I listen to them every day…and they do uplift, give strength, and optimism. There shall be no despair. Israel…the Jewish People…will prevail.

Heck, I’m trying to be upbeat. Work with me.

[snorkling-in-sodasea]

My Gripes with the Midseason Special

Yep, another post that I put down my less-than-favorable feelings about Helluva Boss. This time, it'll be about the currently latest episode, the Midseason Special. As always, any fans who love it as is should stay away from this post

So I had my gripes for a while and I finally got around to writing it down. The bummer about this is, it's actually something I would have loved seeing but I got bogged down by the spectacularly bad writing that is Helluva Boss by then. A heavy focus on Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, especially together, and minimal showcasing of Blitzo. (I don't think I'm alone in thinking that he really should have just stayed in the flashback but at least he didn't get shoved in too much outside of it)

Although Blitzo's actual screentime outside the flashback did get to me. First off, him taking his sweet fucking time shooting the entitled, creepy asshole. Seriously, he was there for freaking security; yeah, Ozzie intended Blitzo to talk Fizz out of continuing to work for Mammon but he was supposed to be security, especially as far as Fizz knew.

Yet Blitzo never shot the bastard when he started trash talking Fizz. He never shot the bastard when Fizz was very clearly having a panic attack as the rant went on. Blitzo never even shot the bastard when he gave a damn warning that he would. No, he just flat out punches the creep instead. That feels so lame! And of course, Blitzo let that creep kick the door down to Fizz's dressing room with a knife in his hands. Why would Blitzo let it get that far?

What makes all that even worse is that Blitzo was able to shot a dirty humper off Fizz while they were swooshing around in the air so you know for a fact that Blitzo was more than capable of shooting the creep before he even laid a hand or foot on the damn door. It was like the writers just wanted Blitzo to see Fizz and Ozzie be all lovey-freaking-dovey with each other and do the hypocrites joke on them

Honestly, the fact that Blitzo was so incompetent about shooting this one asshole made me feel pissed off to see Blitzo being caring for Fizz. Seriously, he had the freaking gall to ask if Fizz is okay when he let the creep trash-talk Fizz for as long as he did

That's my biggest gripe with Blitzo in the episode but I did get annoyed at him for that dirty joke at the end because why wouldn't a Helluva Boss episode end with some dirty joke if not melodramatic moment or someone being an unfunny jerkass for the sake of an ending joke? (Seriously, I started building up a decent opinion on Blitzo in Exes and Oohs, only for Blitzo to thoroughly tear it down to smithereens with that last line of his in Unhappy Campers. I seriously hate that I'm stuck with that asshole as the main character as I weather it out for my actual favorites)

My other biggest gripe is, unfortunately, Fizzarolli. Because the thing is, as much as I hated that Blitzo was forgiven by Fizz and that flashback so weakly establishing what beef they had for each other, I did enjoy Fizz's characterization in that episode. I loved that Fizz was a non-combative who needed to be protected from physical danger but he didn't let that stop him from being so damn mouthy and sassy. Seriously, Fizz was duct taped by the fucking Mafia and was threatened by Striker and Fizz still had the guts to call Striker 'fuck face' and heavily imply that his breath was bad. Even then, when he got on the field - so to speak - Fizz still did whatever he could to protect himself. He tried that horn thing he used on Ozzie in the morning, he tried using a banana peel, he ran with as much gusto as possible, and he readily provided a distraction for Blitzo to do his thing. Fizz was amazing! Even though he didn't know how to fight, even though he wasn't good at fighting, Fizz didn't let that stop him from fighting back however he could or from surviving and I loved that.

Then the Midseason Special happens and Fizz is so bizarrely sensitive all of a sudden. He was so non-combative and sensitive that it kept me thinking back to the last episode and wonder 'why is this different for Fizz? Why can he mouth off the fucking mafia but not a random asshole who clearly doesn't have a life?' My feisty jester who didn't let being physical weak stop him from fighting however he could is gone! Seriously, how am I supposed to enjoy a characterization that Stolas has already owned since the beginning of fucking season 2!?

I don't mean any disrespect for people who gone through what Fizz did in the Midseason Special, just so you know. What I have a problem with is that it's specifically Fizz who's the way that he is in this episode. I can get Fizz not being able to do a thing about Mammon, deadly sin and all, but why is he letting this random asshole get to him this much this easily? And Glitz and Glam, for that matter. Why is Fizz just letting him be bitches off stage? Season one Fizz or even just the Fizz from the very last episode wouldn't let it slide, regardless of preparations to beat them in the competition

The last gripe I could have is that Fizz and Ozzie are too soft for my taste now. It's like Millie and Moxxie if both sides were male and they actually get a conflict with some meat to it in an episode they star in, even if the conflict's definitely going to be resolved by the end. Anyways, I was okay with how their relationship was like in Oops but then the Midseason Special happens and now it's too sweet that it legit feels like cringe to me. It actually makes me miss the season 1 portrayals, where Fizz and Ozzie seemed like a villainous couple who not only enjoyed each other's company but also enjoyed being villainous together. They were an awful couple who was more awful to everyone around them but completely loving or at least caring towards each other. That was great! I would have wanted to see that! I'd still want to see the Fizzmodeus show over the Stolitz one but they're still way too sugary sweet

[survivalprostore]

Essential Survival Gear for Every Outdoor Enthusiast: A Humorous Guide

Hey there, fellow adventurers! If you're reading this, you're either gearing up for your next epic outdoor escapade or you're just lost on the internet and thought this might be about surviving your next family reunion. Either way, welcome! Today, we're diving into the must-have survival gear that every camper, hiker, and outdoor enthusiast needs. And we’re going to have a laugh along the way. Because let’s face it, surviving in the wild is tough, but it doesn’t have to be boring!

First up, the multi-tool. This little gadget is the Swiss Army Knife's cooler, more versatile cousin. Need to open a can? Multi-tool. Got a splinter? Multi-tool. Trying to impress your friends by pretending you know how to fix that thingy on your backpack? You guessed it—multi-tool. The 14-in-1 Outdoor Emergency Survival Gear Kit from our store is the ultimate multitasker. It's got everything from a knife to a bottle opener. Yes, because sometimes survival means cracking open a cold one after a long hike.Pro Tip: Make sure you practice opening it before you hit the trail. Nothing ruins a heroic moment like struggling with your tools while your friends are watching.

The Trusty Fire Starter

Fire is essential for survival. It keeps you warm, cooks your food, and scares away the creepy crawlies that want to join your camping party. Matches? They get wet. Lighters? They run out of fuel. But a magnesium fire starter? Now we're talking. It’s like having a tiny piece of Thor's hammer in your pocket.Check out our awesome fire starter kits. They’re foolproof, which is great because the last thing you want is to be that person who can't start a fire in front of your entire camping group. "Hey, remember when Dave couldn't start a fire, and we almost froze? Good times.

"Pro Tip: Practice at home first. Your neighbors might think you’re preparing for an apocalypse, but better safe than sorry.

The Unassuming Paracord Bracelet

You might think a paracord bracelet is just a fashionable accessory for your rugged outdoor look. Wrong! This little piece of fashion can save your life. Need to tie up your gear, make a shelter, or floss after eating that jerky? Paracord bracelet to the rescue! It’s like wearing Batman’s utility belt on your wrist.Our store offers paracord bracelets that even come with a built-in fire starter and whistle. Now you can call for help and start a fire without even reaching into your pack. Talk about multi-functional!

Pro Tip: Resist the urge to use it as a regular rope for mundane tasks. Save it for when you really need it. Like when you’re about to fall into a ravine. Or need to make an emergency clothesline.

The Legendary First Aid Kit

Getting a blister is not a rite of passage; it's just plain annoying. A first aid kit is the real MVP of any outdoor adventure. Cuts, scrapes, blisters, mysterious rashes—you name it, your first aid kit can handle it. Our kits are compact, comprehensive, and fit perfectly in your backpack without taking up too much space.And let’s be honest, nothing says "I’m prepared" like busting out a first aid kit when your buddy gets a paper cut from the map (yes, people still use maps).

Pro Tip: Don’t just carry it—know how to use it. Otherwise, it’s just extra weight. Maybe take a first aid class. You might even meet someone who shares your love for survival gear!

The All-Knowing Compass

GPS devices are great until they run out of battery or lose signal. A compass, however, is like the wise old owl of navigation tools. It doesn’t need batteries, it doesn’t glitch, and it won’t judge you for not knowing north from south.Our store has top-notch compasses that are easy to read and reliable. Perfect for when you’ve wandered off the beaten path and are starting to worry about becoming the next headline: "Lost Hiker Found Using Only a Selfie Stick and a Sense of Desperation.

"Pro Tip: Learn to use it properly. Or at least pretend you do while sneakily using your GPS as backup.

Wrapping It Up!

So there you have it, folks. The essential survival gear that every outdoor enthusiast needs. Remember, it’s not just about having the right tools; it’s about knowing how to use them and keeping a sense of humor when things go sideways. Because in the end, the best survival skill is the ability to laugh in the face of adversity (and your friends’ attempts at starting a campfire). Check out Survival Pro Store for all your gear needs, and may your adventures be epic and your blisters be few!

Happy Trails!

[callsign-joyride]

Don't Fear The Reaper | Daisy Jones & The Six

Camp Solstice, 1948. Dozens of counselors and campers are slain or missing. The killer would never be caught. The children who survived would never let their families return to the camp. The killer had been presumed dead for years. Until 1978.

This is a Daisy Jones & The Six slasher AU. There will be dark themes such as gore, stabbing/violence with a knife, and death. If any of these bother you, do not read further or read at your own risk. Playlist Series Masterlist Taglist Support my ko-fi

As always, my blog is not meant for minors. If you interact with my page and you have a blank or ageless blog, I will block you.

This will be cross-posted on my Wattpad blog, pedro-is-pascal.

Prologue & chapter one coming this Friday (7/21).

Tagging those who might be interested:

@kmc1989 @idontcare-11

[sol-consort]

I was so upset when I thought Grunt died because I was like “I’ve seen him in different cutscenes though what’d I do wrong???” Luckily Grunt is the goat and lived because he’s Grunt. Wish I took him on missions more but you can’t beat the Tali/Shepard/Garrus combo I rocked the entire Trilogy

I love my fatass son even if he blocks 60% of my shots by walking directly in front of my camper Shepard just right after I pull the trigger then yells at me for friendly fire WHEN HE WAS THE ONE TO WALK IN FRONT OF MY SNIPER.

anyway so, I love him so much! I was a few seconds away from opening the task manager and force closing the game bc I thought for sure he died and I didn't want to finish the unskippable cutscene. I would've kill a that rachni queen a thousand times over if it meant Grunt got to live, zero hesitation.

Thankfully his bloodied limbing body emerged eventually and I have never felt happier in my life.

I wish him and Eve had an interaction since the two of them were in the medbay during the same time but oh well. She would've definitely fell hard for my glorious beloved son and forgot about dusty crusty Wrex!

Also his email after he recovers is so

OF COURSE MY BELOVED SON, I WILL SEND YOU ALL THE SHARK VIDEOS IN THE WORLD. SHARKS ARE VERY SMOOTH SKINNED AND MISUNDERSTOOD CREATURES WHO ARE CURIOUS BY NATURE JUST LIKE YOU MY SON. I AM GLAD IT IS NOT DOLPHINS YOU HAVE AN INTEREST IN SINCE DOLPHINS ARE DEVILSPAWN SOCIOPATHS.

it is super adorable that both the animals he is obsessed with are from earth just like Shepard, dinosaurs and sharks.

Wait are turians dinosaurs who survived their own meteor radiation-

Anyway! Here is more on the game report so far. I am falling asleep as I type.

Story plot

So far enjoying everything, the story writing is amazing and the dialogue is pretty hard hitting at times. Sometimes bloated but oh well. Tuchanka felt like such a big pay off to a huge build up since the first game, the quest delivered a full course meal.

Especially the reaper fight oh god, you get to feel powerless for once with a brute after brute after brute being thrown at you and no obvious spare ammo laying around. You just have to gun it (Ha) to the controls and avoid getting sqaushed like a bug by the reaper or charged by the brutes like a football.

Cloaking is a god sent gift that spared me so many times, I pray the brutes never develop thermal vision or the braincells to employ technology that uses it.

Mordin's death hit hard man, it was so right tho. It felt like it was meant to be, I wouldn't have cared for a random salarian. But Mordin? Oh no.

The fact he sings the model of a salarian scientist during it is the knife twisting in the back after the stab.

It's so clear he is doing it to calm himself down, to not mess this up.

It's a reminder of how much he has given to science, his whole life, identity and hobbies. His music, youth and great mind. So many of his beloved students too.

And he dies correcting the mistakes of superiors playing politics who let fear cloud their judgement.

Wrex calls Shepard his sister in it, Wrex has not hit on me once, I am unbelievably thankful for his writers and so overjoyed with this lovely platonic relationship between them.

Because yes they do feel like siblings!

Still, ME1 Wrex now feels like a different person in comparison to ME3 and I am not talking about believes.

I mean he used to be less open with us, less animated and more shut on himself and brooding. Now he laughs, makes jokes and gets excited, I'm really happy for him! It's like he found his true purpose and passion in life.

Kaidan

I forgot how sappy and adorable he is, when sorrounded by badass characters with edges so sharp it could cut a paper, you get so used to them and someone awkward like Kaidan easily stands out.

He's unsure, confused and just so very human. He's still trying to do the right thing while looking at Shepard for guidance. The fact he doesn't think twice before refusing Hackett's offer to have his own ship just to be with us again.

I don't think Kaidan feels complete without Shepard. In his romance he is so sappy and adorable too, earnest and speaking from the heart. Since the first game he was one for romantics and rarely relied on sexy flirting but rather love confessions are more his forte.

I mean look at this man my heart

I he is just so fjkwkcbaoxjs <3333333 he is the softest person in this whole trilogy, even Tali and Liara are more jaded than him at times. But he still acts as if we were his first love, as if he is a schoolyard boy giving his crush flowers and asking their favourite color.

Femshep

You mentioned only playing as maleshep so I'm not sure how different our experiences are, so I will mention the things I think are exclusive to femshep here.

In the reconcile scene in ME3 where your ME1 romance takes you back after you romanced someone in the second game, they accuse you of cheating.

Apparently maleshep can say it isn't cheating because they broke up with you on Horizon. But femshape has to apologise for cheating??? It's very weird idk dude.

I installed a mod that just let me have the maleshep dialogue instead.

You can also hit on Joker when he asks you about EDI.

And have a full conversation on him being with you instead.

He rejects you and says he's not Kaidan (ouch) and doesn't date crew, he will follow you into hell but not into your quarters.

EDI doesn't wear a uniform so he feels okay dating her.

Can you hit on EDI as maleshep?

Talking about EDI, it's making me really uncomfortable how openly the game is being inappropriate about her. I get she has a hot body and that's perfectly okay, but why does every other person feel the need to comment on it and sexualise her? Like she's an object or something.

ME1 had this problem with femshep where antagonists would hit on you to show them being trashy or whatever and the paragon option is to swallow it down and keep talking while the renegade option is to call them out on it.

And in ME2, someone calls you a stripper, and a turian npc asks about your boobs.

I thought they fixed it in ME3, and true, so far, femshep doesn't get these weird comments.

But instead everything was turned on EDI and the game keeps bringing it up and it's just gross my dude. At least Shepard could tell them to fuck off but EDI can't.

James Vega is a character I really like! I loved his bro relationship with Shepard so much. Even as femshep he still says "hey man" or things like that.

But it is weird when he hits on you out of the blue without any prior interest indications. I envy the platonic bro relationship he has with maleshep, really wish femshep could have the same one.

He isn't even a romantic interest, you don't flirt with him or anything. He just hits on you sometimes. Because. Woman. Ig.

Eve opens up to you more as femshep, that was nice and made me feel better. She is one of my favs too, I love everything about her.

Thane

The Thane romance broke me oh my god.

He calls you Siha when he warns you about the citidal attack. In his romanced ending, his last ever act before dying is to literally pray for you, not for himself but for you. For his goddess to forgive you and grant you eternal love and peace, his son even joins him.

He says your heart is pure despite all, that's the goddess should keep you by her side and make you a companion to her much like you were to Thane. The moment is so touching and genuinely emotional I actually cried.

The voice actor for femshep is phenomenal in this too. You get used to Shepard's harsh and commander voice tones and suddenly it's all soft and quiet, whispery and on the blink of tears and it literally cracks your heart open and makes you realise how this big strong commander is crumbling watching the love of her life die in front of her.

And the dress looks so out of theme i know but the context to it just makes the scene even more sad.

I didn't know the citidal mission would start, I didn't know about any of this when I finished tuchanka. I just picked the prettiest red dress I could find because I was excited to see Thane again and wondering if he'll kiss Shepard again because he mentions he can't do it much bc of his sickness and would need some rest so I assume a mission or two will reset it.

So in my mind, I'm getting ready for this cute date with Thane, dolling my Shepard and all excited and happy walking to the citidal. Thinking about him and looking forward to his dialogue and make I'll take some pics with him in this pretty outfit.

But it's...he doesn't get to see it. He doesn't get to see Shepard in her pretty dress that she wore for him because she had to change into armour for the mission. Then he gets stabbed and you can't even stay by his side after he saved you from an assassin.

Btw that assassin scene was so fucking cool, it's easy to forget how badass Thane is and how deadly he can be even while dying.

By the time it's all over, Shepard had to go see him in the same red dress for their date because If I went to the Normady to change he would've already died. There is no time. This outfit that was supposed to celebrate their love has become the dress for his funeral instead, the date on his deathbed and it's squeezing my heart painfully.

Like that is the oufit of someone who thought they had more time, of someone who didn't realise how close tragedy came by.

[mickmundy]

sniper's loft bed headcanons pls 👁️👁️

omg.,., ehehe.,., i’m soo glad you asked this is something i am Not at All Insane About.,., ehee.,., and i actually think its probably for the best that i elaborate on this here since there really isn’t a graceful way to fit posts like this within a fic SKDFKSD so!! let’s get to it! starting off by saying i’ve been in and out of motorhomes, trucks with camper shells, vans, etc my entire life (though i would be doing it a lot more in my adult life if i could find ways to not have Every Bug On Earth eat me alive ;_; gwah!) so i guess i’m just a little biased for what i see In My Mind. i have yet to sketch out/floorplan out sniper’s van layout itself In My Mind but let’s just keep it vague enough to say it’s nothing flashy, but it’s cozy and Aged and… lived in! i’ve talked about it before in one of my Many headcanon posts but i think he was always taught that he doesn’t need material things and while i wouldn’t say he’s a hoarder by any means, i think he tries to convince himself everything in his home has a Practical Application just so he can justify hanging onto it! i think sniper is v sentimental and the stuff he chooses to keep might be a little “unconventional” by average standards (ie he doesn’t have lots of photos of his family, but kept his mum’s handmade quilts and his dad’s old knife and hunting rifle. also presses flowers and would keep the eggshell of when he and medic first ate breakfast in bed together, etc) but i could ALSO make a whole other post about just little knicknacks i think you’d find in sniper’s home at any given time HEHE… but i’m doing my best to stay on track so!!

i’m going to preface this with IM SORRY for the “pinterest looking ass” photos to describe what i’m talking about but just use this as a Basic Jumping Off Point. Not as the Literal Visual. work with me here… so i think sniper’s bed has LOTS of pillows and blankets. if you’ve ever slept in one of those loft bed camper van beds you’d know that those walls are cold and hard and don’t really hold heat in all that well! i think the blankets are a combination of furs he has (though he rolls up and stores them when its hot out), sherpa/wool, knit blankets and quilts, etc. all of different sizes and weights. whatever makes him comfortable! pillows are extremely worn in (as are the blankets; you could find lots of mends on them!) and comfortable just the way sniper likes them. i think he has so many layers because he sleeps naked and likes to be able to adjust what parts of his body are covered and what parts aren’t. he’s the king of sticking one of those loooong legs out of the covers, or having only his tummy covered and the rest of him exposed, etc! he likes being able to change things quickly to suit his needs. this is also great for draping something over his shoulders when he’s laying out on top of his van at night watching the stars or sitting in a lawn chair feeding hoots!

the space is small, so i think he’d also have a “nightstand” which really is just a “coffeetable book” (ie a big-ish hard cover book) of some subject he’s interested in that he’d keep pressed against the “long wall” of the camper that has just a battery-powered plastic lantern (for reading before bed ehe) on it, a worn-out old book of poetry or some kind of book he’s read a thousand times that he likes skimming before bed (this is not to be confused with the Utility Books he reads at others times about survivalism, gun cleaning, etc. this is a Wind Down Specific book), and aheh, when he starts really falling for medic, something else too… but i’ll discuss that later in my fics! ;-) if i’m being really self-indulgent i think he also has a stuffed animal from his childhood that he’s still hung onto all these years, but he keeps him stored away safely in a pillowcase because he doesn’t want it getting lost or damaged! :’( also he’s just a huge cuddlebug imo, so he likes having things he can Grab or fling his leg or arm over in his sleep (pillows, bunched up blankets, etc)! the space is small but he makes it very homey! HEHEHE