#thalia strikes again

[thalialunacy]

Summary: On August 15th 2021, the Taliban took back Kabul and toppled the Afghan government, leaving many people - women especially - stranded and desperate to escape the country. This is a story in which John Watson, retired army doctor, is called in to assist.

(angst with a happy ending, parentlock, temporary character death, 6300 words, M)

Familiar footsteps on the stairs. He'd recognize them anywhere, any time, any circumstance.

He slides out from under the child, tucking the blanket around her with alacrity, and crosses the room. He flings open the door, and he stares.

John reaches their landing and gives him a tired, slightly sheepish look. 'Accounts of my death have been greatly exaggerated?'

Sherlock feels laughter bubbling in his lungs, stinging and copper-bright, but it doesn't come out. He just keeps staring, gaze taking in as much as he can as fast as it can. 'So,' he says neutrally, noting his heart beating, really beating, as he thought it might not again. 'This is what that felt like, then.'

[thelilylav]

The Big Three ☠️🔱⚡️

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[ma1dita]

to catch a thief

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.7k

summary: (post-TLT, sea of monsters compliant/spoilers) The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. Your reunion with Luke is nothing you both could have ever expected. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: we’re so back trouble!verse ;) sorry for the post birthday hiatus on this, hope you like it! crack banter but err... she got a lil angsty

(posted 3/22/24, semi-edited)

—

When you wake up to the gentle rolling of the sea, it feels like a comforting embrace in a distant dream. Tangled within pristine white sheets, you could smell the salt through the small opening in the bay window–though this was a far cry from a fairytale conjured by your mind.

This was your reality. 

You wouldn’t call it a nightmare per se, but the circumstances were definitely less than preferred. 

This is not the CSS Birmingham. No, that went up in flames. Retracing your steps to what led you to this—cushy cruise line of a prison, you reckon it’s been a few days now since you’ve become a stowaway, or a hostage. You haven’t quite decided yet. 

Gods, this is what you get for passing up on that summer research internship. 

Dropping off Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson at camp was supposed to be a fun walk down memory lane—until meeting with your dad, finding out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned, watching Chiron get fired, and essentially getting kicked out by the troll of a man who originally got sent to the Fields of Punishment for marketing the taste of human flesh made you remember that nothing at camp is the way it used to be.

Not like before, when you and Luke used to run it.

Your dad told you to go home and wait till you were needed. Home. Driving away from it this time around was harder than you thought it would be. You’d never been the patient type, and to drop everything just because a god told you to?

Hilarious, really.

But almost a week later, after rejoining your friends on an undead ship that you let the kids commandeer, your vital mistake was thinking that Clarisse’s quest would be a breeze. Rookie move, since the last one you were on left you almost as scarred as Luke was. Even thinking of him now, you run your thumb over the rough patch of skin on your palm. 

At the very least you hoped Tyson was okay. The last memory you have of the young Cyclops was watching him from your place on the ladder as he stopped the engines from overheating. Maybe it was the ex-head counselor in you, or your increased threshold to pain, but there was no way in hell you were leaving that kid behind.

The sound of voices from outside your door gets louder now, your throat feeling like you’ve been swallowing wads of cotton and a persistent ringing in your ear that hurts just as bad as when you watch Chris Rodriguez walk in with a plate of food. The last one he slid through the door bumps against his boot, still uneaten and he sighs. 

“So what, you’re on a hunger strike now? I forgot how difficult you could be.”

You bark out a laugh. Thankfully it’s loud enough that it almost conceals the rumble of your stomach. Gritting your teeth, you mumble, “Wish it could be an idiot strike. I forgot how much of a bitch you are when it comes to your brother, Rodriguez. How long are you going to keep me here? It’s been days.”

Your former friend rolls his eyes at your dramatics like he doesn’t hold the key to your freedom.

“Three since you woke up, actually. Come on, you’ve gotta eat, or I’ll get my ass kicked,” he grumbles. You raise an eyebrow at that, walking towards the window to dodge the uncomfortable tension that fills the room. He plucks an apple slice off your plate.

“He couldn’t splurge on a balcony view? Monsters aside, it’s not like you’ve reached full occupancy.”

“There are more mortals here than you think. To be honest, he was worried you would find a way to overthrow us,” the tanned boy admits, placing the tray on the dresser. It was always a wonder to him how you and Luke were more alike than you think, even now—even when Luke hasn’t come to see you. Talking to you reminded him that you’re both pains in his ass, and Chris was still unsure of who to be more wary of, but he’s been in charge of watching you for the most part.

“Well tell your stupid captain he has no right to be worried about me. I’d much rather try to jump if given the opportunity.”

There’s no response, so you turn to face Chris who’s eating a croissant with a bashful grin.

“Seriously dude?”

“Listen, I’m hoping if I think of the right words to say, he’ll come in and deal with you himself. Opposite sides of a war and you’re still both giving me a headache. Just like old times,” he chuckles, flakes of pastry dotting across his chest plate. Your mouth quirks into a bitter smile. Old times, when Luke would shove you if he couldn’t think of a reply fast enough. When you’d punch him to get your point across if he wasn’t listening. How a kiss could end any waging war between the both of you.

You swallow, turning slowly to watch your reflection in the glass of the windowpane.

Why hasn't he come to see you? The first day, you remember spending out on the sea—treading water with no land in sight, calling out to your friends until your voice went hoarse, but you didn’t cry. You know better than to show weakness now, even when no one’s around. Chris tells you over a gulp of orange juice that you washed up next to the Princess Andromeda on the second day like it was fate. Though fate was never truly that kind to anyone; it felt like it was laughing in your face. Knocked out cold for two days after, and ignoring all of Chris’s attempts to keep you alive in the days that followed, you’ve been in this room ever since. You barely notice Chris’s departure. 

Entering the ensuite bathroom, you splash your face and sip on water from the tap before stopping at the doorway. A shadow flits at the seam near your feet, someone standing just out of sight when you peer through the peephole.

But you know Luke’s there. Sons of Hermes have almost undetectable footsteps, however, Luke walking in and out of your life for as long as he has—there’s no inconceivable way to not know him. Perhaps you couldn’t hear the sound of his feet, but there’s a way the wind shifts your hair, your heart slowing in ease at his presence, and the scent of him reminiscent of skin kissed with the peel of an orange. The skin you used to kiss and greet and know like your own.

The shadow fades just as your hand reaches out towards it, leaving like he always does. Always out of reach.

Even as the Princess Andromeda continues to set sail upon the calm waters of the Atlantic Coast, you look out to the unending horizon and still feel like you’re drowning.

—

“Status report, soldier?”

Chris rolls his eyes, popping the last piece of apple into his mouth as he strolls into the command deck. The both of you had a flair for the dramatic—it serves as his reminder of why you two worked so well. Luke is sitting in his captain’s seat, watching the waves crash against the hull as the sun begins to set on the skyline.

“She’s angry. Anyone would be if they were locked up like that.”

“Well, yeah, but tell me something I don’t know. Something useful, Rodriguez,” Luke says, flicking his pocket knife closed. It’s still sticky with the juice of the fruit, catching onto his finger. He hisses, but then the sound of loud footsteps boom down the corridor, along with the sound of maniacal laughter as the door slams open. The two sons of Hermes look at each other curiously, knowing it all too well.

“You know, the next time you send a 9-year-old to stand guard, remember to not make it the one we used to throw into the lake,” you drawl, sauntering into the bridge and looking around until your eyes land on your ex, “and also remember that you taught me how to pick locks.”

Ethan Nakamura heaves behind you, hands on his knees before he stands to attention and salutes his captain.

“Sir, I was just following orders… and I’m not 9 anymore!” he snaps, glaring at you. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation makes it easier to get through. You thought being surrounded by the undead on the CSS Birmingham was scary enough, but standing in a room with ghosts from your past was somehow worse. Honestly, you learned a lot more by being in that room than if you were to jump ship like you wanted to.

“I taught you how to tie your shoes, Ethan. You’re always gonna be a little kid to me,” you scoff, brushing him aside and walking towards Luke, “your new digs are fancy, by the way. I could tell by all the teenage soldiers chasing me through the tourists.”

He stands up and meets you head to head, as the both of you inspect each other closely. 

It’s been a long year without you.

You look thinner. You’ve lost the softness in your cheeks and your eyes are tired. He wonders what you chose to major in, who your roommates are, if you still think of him with a smile on your face. You’re still beautiful.

“You know me, I like to travel in style,” Luke says offhandedly, a half smile on his face. For someone leading a war against the gods, he’s calm in your presence.

“Back when I knew you, we traveled in a tin can that we also called a car.”

His clothes are nicer than anything you’ve ever seen him in. He looks really fucking good, for someone on the run. It’s almost frustrating to see how brawny he’s gotten, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms. You suppose he has nothing to do now but practice and spar (that or he’s definitely flexing for you). Pulling at the drawstring of the joggers you wear, you realize his initials are embroidered on the pocket. Pretentious fuck. Did he change you once you got on board?

Chris and Ethan suddenly get the feeling that they’re interrupting something—a reunion in a blockbuster romantic movie they’ve seen the mortals play out on the ship deck’s projector on Friday nights. The two of you stand there arguing like a married couple despite the fact you are no longer lovers and the bickering continues even when more of Kronos’ army files in. You laugh again at the sight of children walking in—some strangers, others you’ve sung to sleep in cabin 11, all still children, even back from the time before when laughter didn’t have to have a reason, light and airy in the summer sun.

“You’re sick, you know that? Did you just plan to let me rot in that room until it was all over? You didn’t even talk to m—”

“Classic, you’re more mad that I didn’t talk to you over the fact that you’re a prisoner,” he seethes, but you don’t stand down—not now or ever.

“Prisoner? I walked out and none of your Boy Scouts could do anything about it!”

His face is turning red now, jaw tightening at the angst but deep down he misses this—the banter, the thin line between hate and love you both tread on. You may be a damsel. But you were not in distress.

To further prove your point, you swing an arm toward one of the boys in black (their uniforms were annoyingly corny), and they all take a step back toward the wall. Your eyebrows furrow, “What type of prison has guards terrified of the prisoner?”

He shrugs, “It was only time before you came and found me. I even gave you a bay window.”

That was not the right thing to say.

“I’ll fucking kill yo—”

“Sir? So do we try and detain her, or….” one of the demigods you don’t know interjects, and Chris Rodriguez sucks at his teeth before he responds. 

“Alright. We’ve seen enough of the show. Everyone file out and let Castellan reunite with his girlfriend.”

“GIRLFRIEND?”

“Girlfriend…”

The both of you look at each other, one in anger, the other in sheepishness now that you’re alone. It's even funnier that neither of you deny it.

“You left me there in that room, and by the sight of things around here you prefer being in the company of monsters than being with me, so by the gods, what do you want, Castellan?”

You fall into the captain’s chair exasperatedly, watching him watch you.

“I’m giving you a choice,” he says simply. “You can stay here with me, or you can go.”

“A choice? You captured me to tell me I have a choice,” you spit, as if that was the stupidest thing he could say. “You didn’t give me a choice when you left me.”

“It was a matter of the circumstances. And I didn't capture you—are you mad that I betrayed everyone or not, because I can’t really read you right now, Trouble…”

Your eye twitches and your hands are in fists across your lap. Another wrong thing to say.

“Keeping me here until I get the nerve to talk to you is not a choice, asshole. Do you think you could just hide me away until the bad part’s over? To save me until everything's good enough for you?” Your eyes catch onto the droplets of blood that fall onto the hardwood flooring near your feet. His hand is bleeding, and like it’s nothing of the sort you reach out for it.

Luke thinks that if he lets you your hand will still perfectly fit in his, so after a moment, he pulls his hand away out of your reach. Pulling a handkerchief out of your pocket (also embroidered with his initials—note to self, never let a son of Hermes have money), you stand to wrap it around his hand to stop the bleeding. You pretend not to notice his heartbeat increase through the throbbing of the cloth.

“Don’t let my actions make you believe that what we had wasn’t good, Trouble.”

“Stop calling me that. Why are they all scared of me? Why won’t you let me touch you?” you whisper, putting pressure on his finger until the blood clots. It doesn’t even hurt, to tell you the truth. Not touching you when you’re right here in front of him is a pain he can’t find the words to describe. But what he’ll never understand is that he’s right. You two were good together. You’d have him through the bad too, if only he let you.

“Because you might think you can fix me.” Or worse, you might change his mind. You don't have to say you love him for him to know it. A part of him wishes he didn’t have to do all of this to prove to you he feels the same. 

“Would you have left with me?” he mutters. A wistful look cuts through your anger and he knows he’s finally said something right. His pocket knife is on the control board and your hands drop to your side again when you realize that he may have forgotten to tell his battalion of who you are to him, but he still remembers how you like your apples cut. The silence is loud, even with the twinge that comes with the pain in your eardrum as you sway a little on your feet. Your body still knows it can relax with him, knees buckling with a false sense of security despite your willpower.

“I would've made it so that there was no other option for you but to want to stay.”

A soldier bursts through the door and apologizes for the intrusion, but the both of you have found out all you need to know. The moment is over and Percy Jackson has been captured by the army in his efforts of trying to save the day. There’s a look shared between the two of you that wonders if this will become a trend.

—

Licking your lips as your… Luke guides you out onto the main deck with your hands behind your back, you can taste the salt in your air. It’s almost as evident as the surprise in your friends’ faces when they see you alive. This time, they don’t question your allegiance but in the chaos that ensues, for a moment, you do.

For a moment, you wonder what would change if you decided to stay with him. Would the sky fall under your feet? Would the gods kneel like Luke said they would? Looking at him in your periphery, you realize it’s not what the both of you want, even if it’s the easier way out—to be together despite it all.

The two of you against the world instead of the world against the both of you.

But he won't even touch you—he’s holding you over the sleeves of your shirt, too scared of what you’ve become in his absence. You suppose you’re scared of what he’s become too. 

The realization hits that you could defect from your friends, family, and home. You could undo everything that you and your friends have worked towards. But nothing he can say will change the fact that he didn’t choose you.

Luke was right, then.

You did have a choice, one that he still forces you to make as you nod at Percy to flip his last drachma into the open water, opening a direct line of communication to your father to catch the thief—of both lightning and the beat of your heart, in the act.

You realize that if the gods were the least bit grateful that you’ve kept their kids alive for the past half-decade, perhaps fate would be on your side and Luke would still be yours. But life has a funny way of working itself out when Luke admits to the open air of another crime to tack onto his list.

“Kronos was right. I should’ve killed you, Percy.”

The son of Poseidon goads Luke into another duel and you survey your surroundings for a way out. Annabeth burns holes into the side of your head and it gets you thinking, moving faster than you have in days as you walk towards her and Grover. At the raise of your hand, the demigods holding onto the pair drop to the deck, incapacitated with illusions of madness they will never comprehend. The more of them that surround you drop like flies as Luke’s eyes flicker between you and the boy he has at swordpoint.

You’ve gotten stronger in his absence—you never needed to touch him to use your powers after all. Just waiting for the right moment to strike, attacking when Luke finally let his guard down for you. He cracks his neck, knowing you’ve made your choice, so he makes his. 

“Get them.” 

The monster scrambles across the deck but it approaches you first, clawing at the wood and barely missing your feet as you scream for help, defenseless without a sword and you hear Luke yell your name in alarm before a punching glove-tipped arrow sends it hurtling overboard.

Your eyes lock with his again as you disembark with the Party Ponies, you with your crew as he corrals the mess you made of his. It has to be the salt air that makes your eyes seem a little misty.

Your fates have always been tied. 

You protect your home, and he does what he can to protect you. Luke looks over your form like he’s checking if you’re okay, even from a distance— and it makes you wonder if this is how it's supposed to be. Someone leaving, and the both of you apart. 

It’s weird to be the one leaving this time, but it isn't as easy as Luke makes it seem each time he does it.

You avert your eyes once you see him put his hand in his pocket, him finding what you snuck in on the way to the deck. Luke pulls out a leather bracelet with a black camp bead, the one he missed in the year he’s been gone. He rolls the bead between his fingers, the thing you last touched before leaving him, an emblem of his archnemesis and the summer that changed everything—the consequences of his actions ripping you away from him. When he slides it on his wrist, it lightly clinks against the hilt of his sword, the lone clay bead a force of its own against Backbiter's reverberating power. He feels nostalgia for what could have been crawling through him—though Luke supposes he’s always been too vulnerable when it comes to you.

Is this what you’ve been feeling every time he walks away? 

It starts to rain after you leave. Luke watches his crew take cover from the downpour, running in all different directions to hide away from the storm that ravages the Princess Andromeda. 

But he stands still, looking up at the sky and hating it for how openly it’s able to cry. Luke is far away from home again—from you and it makes him wonder how much longer he’ll have to be away from you when being with you is what he truly wants.

The mission continues and the ship keeps pushing forward even as the rain washes over him, soaking through his armor and straight to the bone. Raindrops pelt through every crevice, though this onslaught is much kinder, more gentle, even when it’s angry. He closes his eyes and lets it touch his skin. 

For a moment, it feels like you. 

—

A hand penetrates the tide searching for yours, gripping onto your unconscious one. He’s spent hours ripping holes through time to try to find you, an advantage given to him in a dream by the Titan. The agreement, what keeps him from not running back to you is that you live—and as Luke pulls you out of the ocean waterlogged and turning blue, he wonders if it’s all a farce. 

Losing you isn’t worth the wrath of the gods if you’re lifeless in his arms like this. 

He shouts your name, pumping your chest with his fists and breathing life back into your lips until you cough out saltwater, head lolling against his knee. Luke’s fingers stroke your hair, touching you for the first time in a year. As life slowly brings the color back into your cheeks he silently thanks Hestia for keeping your flame alight. His soldiers call out to him from the deck, and he steels his resolve as he rows the lifeboat back to the ship. Still, Luke has to uphold his side of the agreement. 

He wonders if you’d stay. Even if he knows the answer, Luke wonders if you would ever change it for him.

—

And they tell me you are evil and I answer: Yes, I know. –Patricia Smith

 ½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[rosabell14]

An analysis of Bianca di Angelo's role in the narrative and why bad writing can screw over a character.

For someone with such a limited time in the narrative, Bianca is one of the most divisive characters in the fandom. I've been in the fandom long enough to see how much nuance the fandom lacks when discussing certain characters and Bianca is no difference. But it's more than just viewing the characters' actions in a vacuum. It's ignoring the larger narrative problems. At the end of the day Bianca suffers from one simple problem: she's barely a character outside of her role in Nico's narrative. Like it or not, her entire character exists to die and give Nico issues down the road but Riordan's writing decisions didn't do her any favours either.

I feel like this is a huge issue when it comes to the pjo fandom they often try to come up with Watsonian solutions to problems that are Doylist in nature and Bianca is one example of that.

Case in point: Riordan's shit math when it comes to the Di Angelo siblings and how it messes up with bianca's character.

So when we meet them they're 10 and 12. We learn that their memories of their past is kinda hazy and that they don't remember their parents but that they were in a boarding school, then they moved to the lotus hotel, then they were taken out of the hotel and put into Westover's. And at the end we learn that they're Hades's children born before the oath of the big 3.

Said oath happened after WW2 btw. So 1945 probably since Bianca remembers FDR's presidency.

Now in TLO we get an update on this backstory. Hades is speaking to Maria about moving his children to the underworld or the lotus hotel since Maria doesn't like the former option because the war has put Hades in a bad situation with his brothers and also the prophecy is out, the oath has been taken and they're running out of time to hide the kids. So logic says that it's 1945. And then Zeus immediately kills Maria and Hades tells Alecto to erase the children's memories and put them in the lotus hotel, and honestly? I like this version much better? Because why in the world would Hades Put his children in a boarding school for a few years and THEN hide them in the hotel after they were nearly assassinated? Why not immediately put them in the hotel?

And so we get to our main dilemma. Bianca having to raise Nico. This was already strange to me because it's not as if this is a Jason and Thalia situation where Jason was a toddler and Thalia had to take care of him. Nico is not a baby they have a two year age difference. But of course these kinds of things might matter more if you're young. Even then, in what situation would Bianca be Nico's main caretaker? They were put into a magic hotel that mind you, makes time go faster so for them it was a month or two at best and they would have been given whatever they needed by the staff? Same type of issue with Westover's and the boarding school if you want consider that canon. They would have been taken care of by the facility. They probably wouldn't even have shared classes or dorms? Or am I misunderstanding American boarding schools?

And then, Riordan's bad math strikes again and this time with the characters' ages. Because Nico's age in HoO becomes 14 which would have made him 11/almost 12 in TTC but that's not the big problem, no no no. The problem comes from his official birthday which is 1932.

1932... Which would have made him 13 and Bianca 15 by the time Maria dies. Which is hilarious because with the way the kids are written during her death scene as absolute non players with nary a reaction, you would think they were written to be toddlers who didn't understand anything that was going on.

That royally screws over Bianca as a character (and me as someone who's trying to write a story centered around her). Because her main thing. The one time she's allowed to have complexity is the moment where she talks about how she wants to be more than Nico's caretaker, and she's barely Nico's caretaker at all. The best in universe explanation I can come up for this is that this is how Bianca perceives things because that's all that she literally remembers. Those months in the hotel and Westovers.

Another time the plot kinda messes her up is at the beginning of TTC. One complaint that I often see in regards to her Is how quickly she makes her decision. She does not even hesitate. She does not even wait to see the camp. You know the place that would have taken care of her and Nico which would have meant she wasn't going to be his supposed primary caretaker anymore? She doesn't even wait to see if it was an actual good place for her brother? Spoiler alert: it's not camp half-blood at the time was not a good place for either of them really. Nico did not have a cabin at camp and people were not accepting of him. Hell, people not being accepting of hades and his children was something established since the first book.

But once again, this is a Doylist problem at its core. We need to turn Bianca into a hunter but we also need Artemis to leave so that she can be kidnapped for the main conflict, so she leaves before the hunters even reach camp. Half-blood. So Bianca as a character doesn't even get to make a proper choice between the camp and the hunters. To people who only look at characters on an in universe level, it comes off as very rash and not well thought out.

To be fair, on an in universe level, she's a kid so it's okay if she's stupid, but Riordan wasn't trying to make her come off as that way? He treats Bianca's decision as a legit serious choice and not the rash decision of a desperate child.

And once again, Bianca is here for Nico's sake more than anything. She needs to die. So she takes the statue for Nico. Which is so ironic and tragic if you decide to play it that way. That Bianca wanted to be more than Nico's sister, but her literal death revolves around being his sister. Normally I'd enjoy this level of angsty irony but unfortunately that's how the very narrative treats her as well. Even her post mortem decisions are there to maximize Nico's angst more than that they're there to say anything about Bianca herself. We need Bianca to only appear at the end of Botl so that Nico and Percy can have a conflict but it once again comes at the cost of Bianca herself coming off as callous. What's the in universe reason for this behavior? It's so stupid because in universe, Nico doesn't even take that much convincing? One conversation. One conversation and Nico was convinced to stop his efforts in reviving her. Does she just not know her brother enough? Maybe since they technically know each other for a year max. Does she genuinely think she's that easy to give up on? Is she that conflict avoidant? I actually like this interpretation and plan to use it. There's much to be done with a character who's rash and bold but an absolute emotional coward who'd try to avoid an emotionally charged conversation until they absolutely can't.

Hell even after Botl, it's the same song and dance. Hades makes an absolute vile remark at Nico's expense. TSATS makes it into a joke moment and has you believe that Hades simple said that Bianca would have been a better demigod. No ladies and gentlemen. Hades literally tells Nico that he wished Bianca had survived instead.(The fact that I still think that hades is the best godly parent just shows you how low the bar is more than anything.)

I swear to God I spent so much time racking my brain trying to understand what this could mean for Bianca's character.

This is how I basically look like trying to milk every scene where Bianca is there as a character or is mentioned for every drop of characterization.

At the end of the day, I can't blame most of the fandom for being ambivalent towards her at best. The story by design is about Nico. It's designed for you to sympathize with him and yeah if I'm to look at it from Nico's perspective. He DID get abandoned, regardless of Bianca's intentions. From his Perspective , which is the one most people would take, his sister took the very first chance she could to ditch him for people she barely knew hoping people either of them barely knew would take care of him even though they haven't even seen the place yet, and then ignored him for months while he was desperate for a single conversation with her. Honestly had Nico outright resented his sister for leaving, I think the reaction towards her would have even been worse.

(Another sidenote, my very hot tea Is that I like to believe that had Bianca lived her and Nico's relationship would have become worse as time went on and as the camp's anti hades sentiments really started taking their toll on Nico. But I'm just an angst lover)

Worse is that this story is told from Percy's perspective and these two only have like 3 actual conversations together. One of them is her dying, one is about her making her first main decision and that's at the expense of Nico who's probably the fandom favorite behind Percy and Annabeth and the other is her trying to explain her aforementioned decision to Percy and even then, she talks about it in such broad strokes. "I want to be more than X" tells us about who you one day wish to be not about who you are at the current moment. And even when we have Nico as a POV character, Bianca is only there for "dead family member" trope. There's barely any moment where Nico remembers anything important about her to give her any depth. The cards are just stacked against her. Even the people who are at the "Bianca did nothing wrong camp" are barely interested in her. I swear to god whenever an AU comes up where she's alive, the focus is STILL on Nico. Oh Nico would have been such a happy person had she lived! And Bianca? Uhhhhh she would have fucked off with the hunters I guess?

Can we talk about the hunters while we're here?

If we WERE to talk about in universe scapegoats, I'd honestly choose the hunters. Honestly I could make a separate post about how much I hate how Riordan handled them. But oh dear God the way they're presented just comes off as creepy. The way they initially (up until TOA) only go for young girls because apparently older girls aren't useful once they hit puberty and start developing feelings for people and lose themselves(TTC and Percy Jackson's Greek gods oh dear lord are they terrible in Percy Jackson's Greek gods). How they're basically the heroine dumping ground for when Riordan doesn't know what to do with a female character. How ultimately in universe, Zoe more than anyone is to blame to for Bianca's death by taking an untrained girl to a mission where she KNOWS two people would die at the very least. And she doesn't even watch her properly during the mission. Honestly I could barely feel anything about Zoe's death upon rereads as an adult for this very reason. Or how stupid it is to basically put a child in front of a candy store and expect them to make a responsible decision. Who in their right mind would have young girls as young as nine take a celibacy vow? Oh but you'll be safe with us (never mind that we're not just normal hunters here like the actual myths but actual monster hunters) and you'll totally be able to see your brother when you want (actually we barely visit camp half-blood) oh but you'll be a FAMILY with us! Except you know if you catch feelings or get assaulted(holy hell how Riordan depicts the myth of Callisto makes me want to tear my hair out of my scalp)

[willamaybeck]

pjo/hoo @/amusement park headcanons

idk i thought of this forever ago and it's been sitting in my notes forever, so here

piper throws up on a rollercoaster

percy cannot, for the LIFE of him, win annabeth a prize.

"let me show you how it's done, seaweed brain." she calculates how to throw and wins him a tiny stuffed trident.

rachel has to quickly pull grover away from his feast in the trash cans before someone sees

leo & calypso fix a broken-down ride

jason tries to convince thalia to do the bungee jump dive w him--she offers up piper instead but ends up doing it anyway

(she may or may not nearly strike percy w a lighting bolt)

hazel helps a little girl find her lost earrings and frank is basically in love

everyone realizes they "lost" percy & annabeth at the water park ;)

jason was sent to find them and boy--HE DEFINITELY FOUND THEM

frank accidently gives archery lessons

jokes about grover becoming the amusement park janitor

hazel kinda wishes nico were there but she knows he wouldn't have had fun

rachel & calypso befriend each other

piper gets a piggyback ride from leo & vice versa, as well

frank & grover are "guests" in a hypnosis performance

thalia finds this too amusing and takes pictures for the hunters to enjoy

percy & annabeth stroll around themselves for a while just being cute <33

jason mentions smth about nico being gay to piper (an aside, just a short snippet):

annabeth was trying to sneak up on piper w her yankees cap but now she stumbles back to percy by the restrooms and almost cries laughing.

"all this time we thought he had a crush on me, but it was you!"

percy is so mortified

calypso slaps percy when she first sees him (they were all kinda nervous about them meeting again, esp annabeth even tho she knew not to worry; if your bf can turn down a roman praetor for you w/o even fully remembering you, then you should be fine) but then she thanks him for leaving. he's not her happy ending, and she isn't his.

honestly, he was most shocked to see her wearing jeans

leo somehow catches a water ride on fire??

jason & percy volunteer to be in a sword fighting demonstration--somehow none of the mortal audience notices they discarded the prop swords they were given

piper & annabeth are slightly worried they're going to kill each other

calypso guarantees them this a "rather healthy" confrontation

"of course, verbal communication is the best way, but guys think differently."

grover has a picture of juniper in his wallet. rachel finds this incredibly sweet

leo jokingly volunteers to give grover's goatee a trim

no one appreciates the pun.

grover declines.

hazel almost uses golden drachmas as payment for her lunch and frank just can't help but laugh at her

jason & piper fly around the park

the aerial tramway is for chumps

piper fangirls very much upon seeing percy & annabeth's seat--midair snuggling and forehead kisses

jason calls down to thalia to be calm

she's gripping the ride so tightly

she wasn't even supposed to be IN the cart bc it's only fit for two people but rachel & grover pulled her into it

leo's super fuckn fascinated when learning to braid calypso's hair

he tries to copy piper's braids, but she has to inform him it's complicated due to her uneven hairstyle

thalia, rachel, grover, percy, & annabeth all eat lunch together and it's so comfortable.

thalia had never fully met rachel but now she's just crying from how rachel blatantly broke up w percy w/o even dating him

[graceshouldwrite]

The Most Powerful Hack to Make Your Readers Cry

You’ve seen it all: show, don’t tell, plant a visceral image in the reader’s brain of the environment/character, write a complex character arc with lots of growth and setbacks, establish deep relationships, high stakes, etc. 

All the advice for making readers cry I’ve seen so far is basically that list. But, while those things are absolutely important, I find that the thing that always does the trick, whether as a tipping point or in and of itself, is this: 

THE CALLBACK! 

Before we move on, this is an ANALYSIS heavy post, so all the book + show examples contain spoilers!!

So, what do I mean by a “callback?” Think of Chekhov’s gun, but, here, you use the gun to pierce your reader’s heart. As a refresher for anyone who needs it, Chekhov’s gun is just a rule in writing that anything you introduce in the book should play some role in the plot.

Specifically, the name comes from the example that if a reader introduces a gun in the first act, it MUST go off later, (maybe, say, in the third act). For example, in the TV show Breaking Bad, the protagonist Walter White prepares a vial of poison (ricin) that he wanted to use to eliminate an opponent early on in the series. After the assassination attempt falls through, the ricin makes an appearance again in the very last episode of the show, when Walt finally uses it to kill another opponent. 

Got that? Alright, onto the examples of successful, tearjerking callbacks: 

1. The Last Olympian (Rick Riordan); “Family, Luke, you promised.” 

Context: The character Annabeth says this line. Years ago, Annabeth had run away from home, and Luke had effectively adopted her into a found family with another kid named Thalia. Common reason for leaving home = parental trauma! Yay! He promised Annabeth that they would be each other’s “family” from now on. 

Now: Kronos, the antagonist titan, has possessed the demigod Luke and uses his body to strike Annabeth, injuring her. She’s also holding a dagger that Luke had given her when she joined his “family.”

Significance: her words + the dagger are a mental + physical reminder to Luke of his promise. They force him to recognize the sheer degree of his current betrayal by bringing him back to a different time. The fact that their found family only happened because of parental trauma bringing them together makes it worse—Luke felt abandoned by his Olympian father, Hermes. Now, he realizes that he basically did the equivalent to Annabeth by joining the titans. 

2. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo); Jean Valjean’s death 

Context:  At the beginning of the book, the bishop had caught Valjean trying to steal candlesticks to sell. Instead of handing him over to the police, the bishop told the police that he had given them to Valjean, saving him from arrest and showing him mercy. This changed his life forever, kickstarting his character redemption arc. 

Now: Jean Valjean dies surrounded by his loved ones, remembered as a benevolent man who bettered thousands of lives. He’s surrounded by light from candlesticks that once belonged to a bishop.

Context: Valjean had once taken in an impoverished woman named Fantine, showing her mercy and promising to take care of her daughter, Cosette, after Fantine died. Valjean then rescued Cosette from abusive quasi-foster parents (it’s a long story), raising her as his own daughter. This furthered his arc by allowing him to finally understand how unconditionally loving someone feels. 

Now: Valjean describes Fantine to Cosette, who never knew her mother. 

Significance: Both examples throw readers back to much earlier points in the story before the completion of Valjean’s character arc. In a way, this final scene feels like an external manifestation of his kindness paying off; both he and the reader feels a sense of accomplishment, relief, and just a general “OMG WE MADE IT.” Readers don’t feel cheated, because they were with Valjean every step of his 1,400 page arc. The weight of it all just crashes down on you...

3. Your Lie in April (anime); Kaori’s letter after she dies

Context: Kaori’s entire plot significance is that she helps Kousei, a piano prodigy who can’t play piano anymore due to traumatic parental memories associated with it, play again—but also, just to help him enjoy life again after a turbulent upbringing. She meets him a year before she dies of a medical condition, and her free spirit + confidence influences him to find beauty in life and music again. They basically do a crap ton of crazy funny stuff together lol

Now: Kaori has died, and she leaves a letter to him. Among other general confessions and thoughts, she references things they did and memories they shared: she says, “sorry we couldn’t eat all those canelés,” reminisces about  jumping with him off a small bridge into the stream below, “racing each other alongside the train,” singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as they rode the bike together, etc.

Significance: Yes, the nature of the letter is just sad because she’s revealing that she loved him all along, apologizing for not being able to spend more time with him, lying that she didn’t like him (to spare his feelings b/c she knew she would die soon), etc. BUT, these small details highlight exactly how many experiences they shared, and the depth of their relationship. Thus, they emphasize the significance of her death and the emptiness it leaves behind. 

4. Arcane (show); “I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I’m different.” 

Context: Character Jinx says this in the last episode to her now estranged older sister, Vi. Without going into the crazy complex plot, basically, orphans Vi and Jinx used to care for each other before a bunch of crap went down that got them separated. They then grew up on opposite political sides; Jinx grows up on the side of the underbelly city rebellion, and Vi grows up working on the side of the richer city that essentially oppresses the undercity. Thus begins the development of their opposing viewpoints and work environments, to the point where they always meet on opposite sides of a political battle, never able to come together as a family or understand each other again. 

Now: After a super dramatic confrontation, Jinx reveals that although she wants Vi to love her like she did before their separation, she knows it’s not possible because “[Vi] changed too.” She finishes with, “so, here’s to the new us” before blowing up a political council meeting a few blocks down filled with people Vi sides with. Oops! This cleanly seals the fate of their relationship as something basically irreparable.  

Significance: This callback isn’t through literal flashbacks or items like in the previous examples. Jinx’ lines are enough to bring back images of their childhood to the audience’s mind. Now, the audience subconsciously places this image of: 1) two sisters so different, hurt, and torn apart, right next to 2) the image of two sisters as innocent children who loved each other and would care for each other no matter what. 

Why do callbacks work so well? 

If you’ve noticed something in common with all of them, you’re right: they remind audience of a time BEFORE the characters have come so far on their arcs, developed, and put on so much more emotional baggage. 

Callbacks force the audience to SUDDENLY and IMMEDIATELY feel the weight of everything that’s happened. The character’s anguish and overwhelming emotions become the audience’s in this moment. Callbacks are a vehicle for the juxtaposition of worlds, before and after significant development. 

This works because we, as mortals, fear IMPERMANENCE the most. We fear LOSS. For us, time gone is time we will never get back; callbacks make us face that exact fact through a fictional character. A lost moment, time period, or even part of oneself may hurt as much as losing a loved one, and nothing makes humans grieve more than the realization of a loss. A callback slaps the audience in the face with the fact that something was lost; loss hurts so much because almost 99% of the time, what’s gone is gone forever. 

Of course, a good callback requires good previous character development, stakes, imagery, and all that jazz, but I thought I’d highlight this specifically because of how under covered it is. 

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

I’ve been binging general media lately: I finished Death Note, Your Lie in April, and Tokyo Ghoul all within like a month (FIRST ANIMES I”VE EVER WATCHED!!), reread lots of Les Miserables, analyzed a bunch of past shows like Breaking Bad, watched a bunch of My Little Pony, worked to fix up my old writing... and that’s not even all! The amount of times I’ve CRIED while enjoying the above media and so much more honestly just inspired this post. 

Like, no joke, my eyes were almost always swollen during this period whenever I hung out with my friends and it was so embarrassing help 

Personally, I just find that this method works super well for me, and I watched a bunch of reaction videos to these above scenes (and read book reviews on the book scenes I mentioned), and it seemed that just about everyone cried during these parts. That’s when I realizes that the callback might also just be a universal thing. 

Anyway, this post is long and dense enough as is. SORRY! As always, hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated <3333

Happy writing, and have a great day,

- grace <3

[piperscharm]

Riordanverse Characters as Quotes me & my friends have said

Thalia: “I’m a clit owner.”

Nico to Leo: “I’m getting head and you’re not!”

Nico having a crisis: “I only have taste and touch”

Will: “That’s all you need bbg”

Leo: “Hellen Keller strikes again!”

Hazel: “Race doesn’t matter, at the end of the day we’re all just colored chickens.”

Nico: “WHATS A PROSTATE?!??!”

Annabeth when Percy got the confidence to ask her out: “Finally, his dick is out!”

Percy to Reyna: “Athena and Artemis had a friendship and you came out of it.”

Piper abt Leo: “It went from hey bbg to canabalism.”

Annabeth to Leo (as she leans down to gis level to look in his eyes): “Just wait till you see a vulva, Leo.”

Rachel: “Hold on, I’m gonna birth.”

Leo in a commanding tone: “You’re gonna lick it again.”

Piper licking cake batter: “I have practice I’m a lesbian.”

Leo to his cabin: “Guys I need food… and zyns.”

Leo: “cat!”

Piper: “and how many syllables?”

Leo: “8 😁”

[g0thnico]

How I would make Nico and Percy an end game

(a very long text that I wrote at 3 am):

Before Percy threw himself into the River Styx, Nico would declare himself, as neither of them knew if this would work, so all that romantic tension that was between Percy/Rachel/Annabeth would turn into Percy/Rachel/annabeth/Nico, this would help Percy think more about his feelings about Nico, so he would be "rejected" by Rachel and still be thinking about Nico's declaration. thanks to that Annabeth and Percy would never have dated and Percy would still be thinking that during the holidays after the war in Manhattan.

Percy would be kidnapped by Hera, she would remind him of Annabeth to manipulate him, he would find Nico and remember him (even though that shouldn't happen) okay, everything goes normally, but Percy's decisive moment in his decision would be when Annabeth saw him and immediately spun him around in a judo strike. From that moment on, he understood which of the two really cared about him.

Everything would go on normally again until they find Nico in the jar, Percy rescues him and they have a talk about feelings (as much as they both hate it, Percy knew it was necessary) They kind of go into a state of "let's get to know each other before we date" and that doesn't last long because suddenly Percy is in Tartarus with Annabeth. In Tartar, Percy and Annabeth talk about this situation with Nico (he doesn't mention that Nico also likes him because Nico hasn't come out of the closet yet) and they understand each other, realizing that maybe they would be better as friends anyway, They find bob and Percy is like "did Nico say that?" And falling more and more in love. When he poisons that goddess to save Annabeth, he feels resentful when she simply acts like he's a monster and tells him not to use those powers.

On the other hand, Nico and Jason go to Cupid to get that scepter and Nico has to admit about his crush on Percy, but that's not so bad now that they're in a situationship, Cupid is kind of happy about it instead "muahahaha unrequited love! Pain! Suffering!" But he's still upset about being pulled out of the closet, but Jason accepts him and suddenly he became the #0 percico shipper.

when they meet again, after tartarus, Annabeth and Jason end up finding a way to get Percy and Nico alone to clarify things (and even kiss but that doesn't happen), Nico explains about cupid and Jason and Percy vents about Annabeth and misery.

This is a good start for them to get to know each other better and Jason was 100% trying to get them together, but it will take a while because they need to develop more to be ready to really to fall in love.

When they have to separate, when Nico stops to take the Athena Parthenon, Percy promises that as soon as this war is over, they would go on a date. and when Percy is leaving to prepare and face Gaia, he gets a lucky kiss.

(in this part I'm only going to talk about Nico because Percy's part doesn't have anything very relevant to the couple)

I don't remember exactly the order of things that happened in this book but:

Nico meets the Artemis hunters and something in him tells him to reveal himself to Thalia, after all, if her brother knows why not?

Before taking his nap, he ends up revealing he will go on a date with Percy to Reyna, he doesn't know her reaction as he went to sleep afterwards but she was like "oh, good for you man"

When he meets Hades, they have that father and son conversation and at the end he just says "...and I'm dating Percy" and hades "...the son of Poseidon? Wasn't there someone better?"

When Nico arrives at camp and Will Solace is babbling about births, and he just holds Nico's hand to place on his chest, in Nico's mind it's like "get out, I have a boyfriend" but he doesn't say that

This whole Nico arc is basically him finally feeling good enough about himself to come out to his friends and dad, but not good enough to disclose it to anyone. Still, it is a greater evolution than the original book.

The end of the war arrives and Nico is slowly turning into a ghost, Leo has died and so has Octavian, the air smells of death and victory and they need to rest.

The first thing Percy does as soon as he is free is to look for Nico, who was in the infirmary after using his powers a lot. Despite being tired, Nico never asks Percy to stop talking when he starts to tell every little thing about the battle when they were apart, and as soon as he finishes Nico lets out a "I love you, but right now I need to sleep for the next week." Percy thought he was joking when this literally happened. Reyna explained that this was normal and during Nico's nap, he planned their date.

The date: Percy was dressed up (like, with an improvised suit) and had a (stolen) rose in his hand, he took Nico to the entrance of the camp where Sally was prepared as his official driver (inside she was MY SON'S FIRST BOYFRIEND!!!) and there were snacks in the car because the trip would be long (They spent this time in the car talking about Nico's journey and how he came out to his father, Thalia and Reyna). Percy had asked for reservations at an Italian restaurant (a real one, with Italian chefs), because he remembered that Nico is Italian and he probably hasn't eaten real Italian food since he was a kid. They talk about everything, school, camp, friends, family. Until they both realize that neither of them know exactly what they want to do in the future. Nico wanted to continue life the way that is, doing missions for his father, traveling and meeting Percy (usually to save his life buuut who cares) While Percy wanted to have a normal life, going to camp in the summers to meet his friends and help the New demigods, but without going on missions all the time or risking your life, only if absolutely necessary, but still working in the mortal world (he doesn't want to go to college) and have his own house.

To conclude: they both followed their respective lifestyles, but they still met practically every day, and when they didn't, they called each other. Eventually they were falling in love. They only told a few people (Hazel, Reyna, Rachel, Annabeth, Jason, Grover, Thalia and Clarisse) and it was ok!

no one expected that this would end, But love is like that, it's very unpredictable

[starlightshadowsworld]

Jason but he was never claimed.

Everyone knows he's the son of Jupiter.

He's known his whole life.

From his mother's whispers to not cry in storms, for they were a sign of his father's love.

To Lupa's howls and harsh temperament that this was not behaviour fitting Jupiter's son.

But never was Jason ever claimed.

There was never a lighting bolt dancing overhead.

No fanfare.

No cheers.

Because Thalia had a use, and she was favoured.

The one he actually tried to save instead of turning a blind eye.

But Jason?

He was the bitter reminder of a mortal having sway over the God's.

Over Jupiter himself.

He was nothing but afaceless soilder raised to fall in battle when his time was up.

Why should the King himself care for one so... Pitiful.

So Jupiter never claimed him.

Didn't acknowledge him until Jason dare spoke out against him.

But Jupiter always knew exactly who that boy was.

He even named him.

He just didn't care.

Jason knew, had known but it was something he never shared.

It was a dark secret, a shameful one.

For you see without being claimed, Jason could never access his full power.

He heard the laughter, the mocks and the digs.

Of how could the Prince of the Sky's be so weak.

Luckily he'd never had another like him to measure up to at Camp Jupiter.

... Which lead him to the bittersweet reunion with his sister.

Thalia was every bit the striking daughter of Zeus.

She even looked like him while Jason shamefully resembled their mother.

Thalia never put him down, never even insinuated he was weak.

Even glaring down anyone she caught whispering at his expense.

But Jason could see the confusion on her face when he failed something she did like breathing.

He would just smile and try again to no avail.

He waited for the day she left him too.

It came to ahead one night when his friends were all there. Laughing and smiling till their cheeks went red.

"And the dress! Ugh it was so embarrassing." Cries Piper, setting off another wave off laughter.

"Oh man, I'm glad I didn't get a dress. I'd burn it off." Declared Thalia with a snort before lightly elbowing Jason.

"Lucky we just got the lighting treatment, ey Jason?" Jason paused, nodding immediately "right..."

Something must've shown on his face because Thalia frowned.

But the one to ask was Leo "hey yeah we never saw yours! Must've been something special for Mr Prince of the Universe himself. Sooo what it was like?"

Jason looked down.

He shouldn't say it, but they were all looking at him expectantly.

He didn't want to let them down.

... But what if they left him because of it?

Sure they fought a war together but Jason learned quickly that can sometimes mean nothing.

But lying to them almost felt worse.

"I... I don't know..."

"What? Sorry can you, say that louder? Can't hear you man."

"I don't...I don't, I wasn't..." He took a deep breathe. "I don't know what it was like because I wasn't... I haven't been claimed."

Silence.

Dread filled his bones, Jason didn't dare look up to see the disgust on their faces.

"That bastard!"

Jason blinked in suprise, hesitantly looking up.

And finding anger.

But not aimed at him.

"How... How are you... How are you still alive?!" Cried Thalia, anger blazed through her eyes.

But there was very clearly fear alongside of them.

Jason didn't understand.

"Before I got claimed I couldn't use my powers without getting tired so damn easily...and that was just your run of the mill monsters..." explained Thalia, seething.

Jason had fought "run of the mill monsters" since he could walk.

Percy clenched his fist "I knew he wouldn't keep his damn promise but... This is low even for him."

His eyes widened in realisation. And gave way to more anger.

"He knew... He knew this whole time! And he didn't do anything! We were fighting Gaea and he didn't..."

No one wanted to add on that it wasn't the first war either.

Jason felt tears well up in his eyes, he'd never known it to be an injustice against him.

He always thought he had deserved it. And he was supposed to die anyway soo... Why waste your powers unlocking his?

.... And by the look of horror everuone was giving him, Jason had spoken that part out loud.

"Jase...you are not a waste of anything. None of this was your fault." Said Piper firmly, angry tears in her eyes.

"She's right, none of this is right...which is why I have half a mind to go ask him what the Hades he was thinking..." Seethed Annabeth.

Nico nodded, his anger was quiet but simmering along the surface.

"I don't get why your so mad at him though... I should've... I should've been better." Said Jason, he'd never experienced something like this before.

If he wasn't so useless maybe his father would've cared about him.

"Besides, I already knew I was his son, that he didn't want me...I always have."

That little admission broke of all their hearts.

"That doesn't make this right Jase, and I know deep down you know that." Said Thalia, gently pulling him into a hug.

"We're gonna fix this, because you deserve it. You deserve so much and I'm going to spend every day of my life proving that to you."

"Me two."

"Me three."

They all began chiming in.

Tears spilled from Jason's cheeks, and for once Lupa's yells of them being weakness fell on death ears.

He was loved.

Jason rested his head on his sisters shoulder as everyone began brainstorming, threathing and maiming.

It was the most loved he'd ever felt.

Jason had always known Jupiter hadn't loved him back.

Would never love him back.

Jason had given up on anyone truly caring about him... And now he knew that he was loved by his little family.

It was worth more than his father's praise ever could.

"You think re-stealing the master bolt might do it?"

"Let's try to make sure we're still alive after this."

"... So that's a no?"

[vibratingskull]

Hi! I saw your open to chiss requests? I’ve just read the thrawn ascendency trilogy and I’m down bad for Somakro. Grumpy man with a loyal heart of gold?? I’m down so bad.

Anyway. Maybe a fluffy fic about Somakro having feelings for a fellow officer? Maybe he sees her help little skywalker chiri with something and his heart melts because he already respected her military prowess but she’s also good with kids??

I’d really take anything

Grumpy man being a sweetheart deep inside!!! 🥹🥹🥹 It woos me every time! Come get your glorious man and sweep him off his feet!

art by @jun-c

Samakro x F!Chiss!reader

Tags: Fluffy fluff, lil bit of childcare

Samakro types on his questis, keeping a sharp gaze on the officers under his command and Ch’eri on her chair.  When he is on the bridge nothing escapes him, he becomes an all-seeing being, monitoring his warriors and keeping tabs on everything happening. His subordinates feel him looming behind them and straighten their posture by reflex. 

The Springhawk leaves hyperspace in a resounding thud, shaking everyone present. They arrived. 

“Send me the last coordinates of the Pirates.” Samakro orders. 

He spins to go sit in the command chair and has to muster all his will to not take a step back before you. He didn't hear you approaching. You smile gently, handing him a microchip. 

“The coordinates, sir.” You say respectfully. 

Well, that was quick! 

That was instantly even. 

He takes the chip and inserts it in the port of his questis. 

“I will also need the calculations of their last 8 travels recorded, their spotted hideouts, and the audio recordings of the messages in their native language.” 

“They are all in there.” You nod. 

Oh... 

Well, it is refreshing to have officers able to think ahead. 

“I highlighted the pirates’ favorite routes and calculated some probability for their possible next spot appearance, I noticed a trend in the hours they chose to attack the Ascendancy. They seem random but there is a constant of 3 days and 5 hours between each of them, rinse and repeat 5 times then they disappear for two weeks to a month and resume.” You explain. 

Samakro looks at you, almost suspiciously. 

“And you noticed that alone?” 

“I studied the data during my break times.” 

That’s a heavy workload that you just lift from their shoulders. He and Thrawn will need to check if you are correct in your speculation but that will not take more than 45 minutes to review the data. 

“Thank you... Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)” He finally says after ogling you for several mute seconds. 

“Of course, Sir!” You stand to attention with a smile and walk away. 

He pretends to look back to his questis once again but looks at you walking away. That is not the first time you proved yourself zealous, and the Chiss expansionary defense fleet adores those types of behavior. If you are indeed right in your analysis he should keep a closer tab on you, you may become the next prized pupil of the fleet and his job is to facilitate your accession to higher ranks for the common good. 

He observes how you chuckle and give handshakes to several colleagues as you take back your place. You are visibly popular, which can also be an advantage in the future. With his gruff personality, Samakro was not really appreciated in the ranks of the Navy and counted his friends on the fingers of one hand. 

You do not seem to have that problem. 

“Skywalker Che’ri, you may return to your room and rest.” He orders, refocusing on the data. 

“O...Okay...” He hears the tired voice of the little girl. 

He sniffs, eyes on the screen when reality strikes him. 

Thalias is with Thrawn in his office! 

He spins his head just in time to see the little girl losing her balance as she heads toward the door. 

He is about to throw his questis to the other side of the bridge and lunge to catch the poor child when you pop out of nowhere and receive her little body in the security of your arms. 

“Careful there, Che’ri!” You chuckle with a bright reassuring smile, “I would hate for you to hurt yourself!” 

Samakro finishes crossing the bridge to join you both and kneels next to you. Che’ri raises her visibly tired face toward you and sighs. 

“I... I am sorry (Y/n).” she says almost in tears. 

The kid is exhausted, they had to push her limits to reach their destination. Usually, even Samakro is uneasy with the idea of overworking a child, but those pirates kidnapped several Chiss girls. 

Several potential Skywalkers... 

They NEEDED to arrive before all of them, and for that, they needed Che’ri to push past her limits. But now she is obviously distraught, and Samakro feels a pinch in his heart. 

But you simply laugh and caress her hair gently. 

“Do not be, silly. You worked really hard today! You deserve a warm dinner and a good, long night’s sleep!’ 

Samakro witnesses as you casually kiss the top of the head of the little girl. 

Where does that familiarity come from? 

But Che’ri doesn’t seem weirded out by your action and even presses her little cheek against your arm hugging her. Che’ri sighs again under the caresses on her hair, she looks ready to lose consciousness. She clearly is in no condition to walk back to her suite. 

“Skywalker Che’ri, with your consent I will carry you to your suite, all right?” He says, extending his large hand to her. 

You both turn your head to him, you with a silent approving gaze and her with drawn features and glossy eyes.  

He knows Che’ri is kind of afraid of him. He doesn't exude the calm and paternal aura Thrawn has around the girl, he is too rough around the edges to her liking. 

But she takes his hand nonetheless with a tired nod. 

“Okay...” 

You help him lift her by seizing her hips and he wraps his arms around her solidly to not let her fall. He feels her tiny arms wrap around his solid neck and her face lays on his shoulder, she hugs him like she would a plushie. You both stand back up and he heads toward the bridge door with the most precious package ever in his arms. 

“Junior Captain, I leave you the bridge for now.” He orders, crossing the bridge door. 

He doesn’t say a thing but he feels silent tears starting to wet his collar and shoulder. Poor little one... 

“Do not cry Che’ri, you did a really good job today.” Your voice rises out of nowhere. 

Samakro stops dead in his tracks, realizing you are following him. 

“Why are you here?” He demands, “I did not authorize you to leave your post.” 

You tap your chrono at your wrist with a grin. 

“My shift just ended.”  

He sniffs. 

“Then go eat and rest. I am taking care of this.” 

“Oh, so you know where her nightclothes are and where she puts her favorite plushie?” You ask with a surprised but gentle expression. 

He considers you in silence for several seconds. Did you ever give a bad look to someone once in your life he caught himself wondering. 

“Because you do, perhaps?” 

You snigger and enjoin him to follow you. 

“This way, Mid-Captain.” 

You walk beside each other, Samakro with his usual gruff demeanor and you a silent confident smile. You turn to look at him and your smile stretches more. 

“What is it, Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)?” He inquires, looking straight ahead. 

Usually, he hates being ogled like that, but this is not the effect your gaze has on him. 

Instead, he feels... Shy? Unconfident? 

Why is that? 

He is surely a little sick... 

“Nothing.” You shake your head softly, “Or rather, yes: Do you have kids Captain Samakro?” 

He feels his eyes rounding up at that question. What... What made you think it was appropriate to ask such a thing?! 

“No, I do not. I am not married.” He recovers the control of his expression. 

“Oh really? Paternity looks really good on you! You always look so... Moody but watching you taking care of Che’ri shines a new light on you.” 

He side-eyes you, looking for mockery on your face. But your red eyes shimmer with a gentle warmth and your grin is soft.  

“Although...” You take a step closer and lower your voice like you are about to share a secret, “After that scene, you may not remain unmarried for long...” 

This time he fully turns his head toward you, with an indignant expression. What got over you? 

“Do not look so shocked, Captain. What is truly shocking is that you are still single!” You raise an eyebrow with a know-it-all expression. 

“And in what way is it shocking exactly?” He demands with a haughty voice. 

“Now come on... The gruff big man with a secret heart of gold! It’s a classic.” 

“It’s a cliche!” He corrects, “And we are not in a holo.” 

“But you look like you come straight out of one!” You keep going, “You could have done modeling or acting with such a face! Oh, all the broken hearts you would have left in your trail...” 

Samakro reassures his grip on Che’ri’s body to put on a front, but inside he feels turmoil.  

Why are you complimenting him so much out of nowhere? Why would you... 

Oh for fucks sake...  

Politics. 

He sighs internally, really he can’t escape politics wherever he goes! Now it has to walk next to him in the corridors of the Springhawk... 

He is about to open his mouth to shut you down for the rest of the day when an ungodly sound resonates in the corridor. You both look at Che’ri, who seems to bury her face harder in the crook of his neck. 

“It wasn’t me...” Samakro hears her muffled little voice. 

“Oh, Che’ri...” You put your hand on her back to caress it gently, “It’s okay, dear. Wait, I think I have something in my pockets.” 

You search your pockets until you take out a cereal bar that you give to the skywalker. She eagerly takes it, opens the package, and bites into it immediately. Samakro observes the little girl’s expression relaxing as she eats the treat. 

“Good thinking Officer.” He nods to you, “You seem to have experience with children. I imagine you have one?” He throws back the question at you, see how you like it. 

“Oh no.” You chuckle, “I am unmarried too.” 

“Really?  A motherly woman like you did not find a man to wed?” He mocks playfully, raising a haughty eyebrow at you. 

But... 

For some unknown reason 

He is relieved to learn you are single. 

“Alas, I did not!” You laugh, unbothered, “All my other partners were rather immature, not husband nor father materials... Contrary to you, Captain.” 

He stops again. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Only that your time of celibacy might be more short-lived than you expect.” You grin, “People talk to me, sir. You are quite popular.” 

Great... a fat lot of good that does him! 

“I am here to serve the Ascendancy, Officer! Not to find a wife!” He clarifies harshly. 

Which prompts your grin to grow larger again. 

“This is exactly what Fleet Admiral Bak’if  said before finding a wife in his crew!”  

“I am not Fleet Admiral Ba’kif.” 

“True, but you might be our next Fleet Admiral!” You theorize, “You have all that is needed for the job: Courage, a cunning attitude, great tactical abilities, charisma-” 

“Drop the compliments.” He cuts you short, at the end of his patience, “What do you really want?” 

You consider him, mute for the first time. 

He gauges you back. If you play politics, you are way too upfront about it! Complimenting someone so much is so amateurish... 

But  

That is not what makes his blood boil he realizes. 

What makes it boil is that you may compliment him for a hidden goal and not because you truly mean it.  

He should not care. 

But the thought that all your words might be false in your head... Stabs his heart. 

He mentally shakes his head. Why does he even care what you think in the first place? 

... 

Because you are a great officer, with a lot of good qualities. One of those that are too rare. He met plenty of good officers, but rarely great ones. And seeing one playing the political game so badly, risking getting caught and destroying their own career like that is disheartening. 

Yes 

This is surely why he feels like that.. 

No possible other reason! 

You squint at him, your soft expression gone to leave the place to a more... thoughtful one. 

And to his surprise. 

You start giggling. 

You let out a breathy laugh before hiding your growing elated smile behind your hand, your red eyes shimmering like glitter and pure light. The notes of your laugh are like none other, they rise high, where the angels are. They are like a song to his ears, a delicious melody he never heard before but he feels like he has known all his life. 

Are you... Mocking him? 

Usually, he would use his Captain’s voice and shut you down harshly, disciplining you into obedience and teaching you respect for your superior.  But he feels his legs melting into jello and his heart picks up pace in some sort of panic he cannot explain. 

Why do you have such effects on him? 

“What did I say?” He finally demands, trying to sound intimidating. 

Not really succeeding. 

You take a step closer and your hand travels from his shoulder to his hand and you intertwine your fingers.  

And for some reason 

He lets you do it. 

Samakro isn’t used to small physical acts of affection. He collects partners to get his release and then they both go their merry way. He knows why he is seeking them out and they know why they accept him in their sheets, they do the deed and never speak ever again. 

It is simple and effective. 

But somehow. 

The simple act of holding your soft hand puts him in turmoil even his most kinky partners never managed to do! 

He feels his heart accelerating and his breath getting more shallow. 

This... is not an act of lust and primal carnal desire.  

But of tenderness and affection, such simple fondness and adoration.  

He should rip his hand out of your grip, he knows he should. 

But it is beyond him. 

He feels more naked than he ever has in his entire life, making his stomach twist and a strange warm sensation spread in his stomach. 

Making him feel... fluffy. 

You gently raise on your tip toe and very slowly, very gently, kiss his cheek. 

It is short. 

It is chaste. 

It is sweet. 

It is utterly devastating. 

He audibly gasp despite his best effort at the touch of your soft lips. 

Wh... Why do you make him feel like this? 

He turns his gaze to you, unsure, to discover you looking at him with pure, raw adoration in your burning gaze. 

“Let’s put Che’ri to bed, and then we will talk over a cup of caccoleaf. I will explain everything.” 

And you boop his nose with the most mischievous grin he ever saw. 

“What do you say, Mid-Captain?” You tilt your head. 

“All... All right.” He finally gulps, his throat dries like the desert. 

For some reason 

Sharing a cup of caccoleaf cup with you is the most thrilling proposition anyone ever gave him. And he had numerous proposition. 

You squeeze his hand gently in yours, your soft confident smile on your face, looking sure of yourself, you guide him yourself in the corridor. 

And for Samakro for whom getting power and obedience from his crew was his goal... 

He thinks that following someone’s else lead might not be that bad after all... 

Especially yours. 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin@ineedazeezee @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @leo4242564@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[fictionalmenaremytype]

SEASON FINALE BABY LETS GOOO!!!!!

(Percy jackson ep 8 spoilers)

I'm just gonna start by saying if Disney doesn't renue this for a second season they are stupid and will have missed out on a harry Potter level phenomenon.

- LUKE MONOLOGUE HOLYSHIT ITS GIVING GOOD KID REPRISE

- HE IS KIND OF TERRIFYING IN THAT SWORD SCENE THO

- Ares' cackle. I love him .

- Ares just threw him like hulk did loki

- annabeth having to hold Grover back is so important to me because he's wanting to help percy but Annabeth knows this fight is to the death and any interruption would just get Grover killed.

- Annabeth also knowing he needs to prove himself as the son of poseidon and discover who he is.

- "let's kick the son of poseidon into a puddle right near the sea" I now understand why Athena is battle strategy and Ares is just war.

- THAT TSUNAMI JUST PARTING FOR PERCT US ICONIC AND HE JUST RUNS AND SWOOPS AND CUTS ARES

- my only critique is that Percy never does any movements to show its his power (which ik this is accurate to the books) but it comes off a little like he's just calling on Poseidon to do stuff. I wished they had some sort of indicator that it was Percy like maybe a slight movement or having the water pull back from the puddle he fell in and into the sea.

- I did think the fight was a little quick tbh but it still worked.

- the way I screamed "close your eyes close your eyes close your eyes!" When he was about to show his true form.

- woooh Hades helm

- The cabin looks fuckung terrifying rn

- I haven't seen the end of credit scene yet but I'm predicting it's going to be Sally with Gabe's statue.

- Alecto just wanted to get tho boss his hat back!

- "please" "good luck on Olympus" I thought she was going to be nice but noooo she's still a bitch.

- Annabeth trying to stop Percy from going because they're friends now and she's worried for his safety. I love Leah she is AMAZING.

- "I'm done running from monsters" THAT LINE OMG THE WRITERS ROOM ATEEEE

- THE NECKLACE?? THE MUSIC?? "You're gonna need all the luck you can get." Is so sweet and so patronising she is perfect. Leah is Annabeth Chase she has cyclops powers and just embodies her!

- "how sure are we you couldn't explain everything in an email?" So relatable Grover so relatable.

- "I'm here to see Zeus." Lightning bolt on the table " I don't have an appointment"

- THIS SHOWS ART DEPARTMENT HOLY SHITT OLYMPUS IS STUNNING WTF

- it is so so obvious when you know abt Luke that yes trying to recruit Percy to his side.

- LUKE REALLY JUST SET ANNABETH UP TO BE THE TRAITOR THERE WHAT!

- can someone build this olympus on minecraft please I want to exploreee.

- zeus (rip Lance Reddick we miss you) just waiting on his throne is terrifying.

- The thrown room being in a thunder cloud has so much messaging behind it! It is pathetic fallacy at its finest.

- Zeus is scary. I don't like it. Literal goosebumps rn.

- "your family is a mess" you tell him Percy. Be his therapist

- WHEN HE TRIED TO STRIKE PERCY OH MY GOD POSEIDON SURRENDERING

- "your forbidden son who should've never been born" "the same as your thalia" Poseidon learnt some sass I see.

- THE GREEK IS INGENIOUS.

- "make sure I never see this one again." Well I hate to break it to you sir but you will...a lot

- "obedience doesn't come naturally to you does it?" "No...sir." "the sea does not like to be retrained." CAUSE THE SEA DOESNT LIKE TO BE RESTRAINEDDDDD

- Percy not immediately knowing Greek is such a slept upon lart of the books because they have lessons in it.

- Poseidons smile about Sally.

- "Ares is a moron." The only thing Poseidon and Athena agree on.

- Aww they finally had father son time. Its so emotional and beautiful and its made me emotional.

- the line of applause and I'm just looking for Travis and Connor.

- The hugging is a thing.

- "an accusation against clarisse." "Without proof" annabeth has a feeling!

- honestly adding Clarisse as a traitor and using that to get Percy and Luke alone makes more sense to me given that they know someone at camp stole the bolt.

- I think now is the time to say how Charlie is amazing for Luke he's so sinister when he wants to be l.

- luke making him go through the Prophecy before he reveals and percy slowly realising why Omg chills.

- the red lighting on Luke highlighting his scar.

- luke looking like he's about to cry

- "I didn't think you'd give them to Grover." "I'm here to recruit" AH

- BACKBITER CAN OPEN PORTALS NOW THIS IS A WHOLE NEW LEVEL OF OVER POWERED !!!!!

- LUKE AND PERCY FIGHT LUKE AND OERCY FIGHT.

- Is that a silhouette in the background???

- " I met your dad" THE ANGER OMG

- the fight with Ares being short is made up for by this fight. Under the fireworks? In the woods? It's stunning!!!!

- PERCYS APOLOGY OMG I FELT SO BAD FOR HIM HES SCARED AND CONFUSED AND STILL TRYING TO SEE THE BEST IN LUKE.

- YES ANNABETH. THROWING HER DAGGER AT LUKE?!? I HOPE THAT KNIFE BECAUSE PART OF ANNABETHS CHARACTER BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE SO COOL. I KNEW I SAW A SILHOUTTE

- " Annabeth?" " I heard everything" I KNEW SHE HAD HER SUSPICIONS

- " He can be very very persuasive" "I'm very very stubborn"

- MR D LOVE HIM

- "Percy? That's your name?"

- I was half expecting Dionysus to do an Oprah and say " you get out and you get out"

- Annabeth saying goodbye to Thalia is so sweet

- " and then sone place called Disney World?" She's never seen a movie she's going to be so confused. "Which kind of sounds like water land but with less trying to kill you" Yeah.

- the way he smiles at her is so cute.

- "wait did I read that wrong. What am I walking into. Is there something you're supposed to do there?" "Just be a kid"

- aww Grovers searcher licence is a flower

- "but no ones ever thought to check the seas!" Nice set up Disney I see you.

- "we meet back here next year." Well you will eventually.

- THE GROUP HUG (if we get up to season 5 I expect editors to make edits of them hugging at 16 to them hugging at 12)

- The cabin and Sally <3

- "what happened?" "It's a long story."

- WHAT JUST HAPPNED OMG ANOTHET DREAM OMG KRONOS I DONT LIKE THIS HES TOO CLOSE OMG GO AWAY DONT INVITE HIM IN HES LIKE A VAMPIRE. HES SCARY SCARY SCARY.

- "no kidding kiddo it's time to wake up." So cute.

- "grandpa." "Don't call him that."

- "Don't forget to tell your mom how much you love her today." "Kronos Lord of the titans said that?" The lying and secrets has begun

- NO GABE WOOH

- THE ENDING MONOLOGUE

- HOW MUCH DID WALKER SCOVELL GROW OVER FILMING HES SO TALL NEXT TO SALLY AND THE DOOR FRAME.

- Sally divorcing gabe is much much better than her just turning him to stone because it gives the message that she now recognises her son can look after himself and now she doesn't have to protect him anymore.

- GABE ASKING THE LAWYER HOW TO PICK A LOCK IS SO FUNNY

- I really like how it's his own hate for percy and everything percy has that gets him killed rather than straight up homicide. It really sets the idea that people like that will find their own downfall (which is ironic bc this trope is commonly used in ancient Greek tragedies)

season one of percy jackson is stunning. It's a masterpiece even with the changes and whilst there was definitely some timing issues and the cut to black became annoying, it was very, very good. If it is renewed for another season, it has a lot of potential, and I will be very excited to see how they adapt The Sea of Monsters for screen.

[rocknroll7575]

Are you prepared to see Jaune wipe the floor with some Demigod Children?

Jaune then saw Thalia and Clarisse charged in once more. Thalia was first and she thrust her spear forward, but Jaune managed to deflect the attack with his shield and then struck Thalia in the gut with the pommel of his sword, causing her to heeld over, and when Clarisse charged in and thrust her spear, aimed directly at his chest, but Jaune sidestepped the attack, turned the blade around and just like with Thalia, he used the pommel to strike her in the chest, causing her to grunt in pain and kneel on the ground.

Are you ready to see Jaune become a dad of an entire camp of literal children who always find each other in danger?

Jaune ran and kicked open the school door with Bianca on his shoulders and Nico wrapped under his arms as the fire blazed in the back, as Percy, Thalia, Annabeth, and Grover were behind him.

"Alright! Let's get out of here and never speak of this again!" Jaune cried as he ran.

Are you ready for Jaune's milf Magantizam to even affect the lovely goddesses themselves!?

Aphrodite got super close to him with a sultry smile, "Oh My~! A real knight in Shining Armor~!" She said, "Do you wish to... whisk me away to your chambers~?"

Jaune blushed a little, "Uh..."

(Don't worry, most of the Maiden Gods are off the table!)

Jaune turned around only to see the stares of Hestia and Athena. The goddess of Wisdom was glaring, Hestia smiled at him with her fiery eyes, and at that moment, Jaune felt unsafe...

(most of them~!)

And are you ready to see Jaune throw absolute hands with a Titan!?

Jaune punched the hell out of the Titan, not letting up, he struck the face, the ribs, the stomach, anything that would cause the Titan great pain.

He would not forgive him for what he did to Zoë...

Then get ready to read the amazing far-into-the-future story of...!

THE KNIGHT OF OLYMPUS: TITAN'S LULLUBY! (aka book one of the series)

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Why Are Seers Always Cursed? (3)

Wesley Weston is a son of Apollo with the rare gift of prophecy.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week 2024, Day three: Percy Jackson | Lake

This takes place shortly before Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia arrive at Camp Half-Blood, and while Wes is still in middle school, meaning it's set before the primary canon events of both series. You can also read it on AO3!

Chapter 3: Downhill Fast

First | Previous

[Warning for mild violence]

Over the next two weeks, Wes started to really get the hang of Camp Half-Blood. A few more campers had arrived, including another Apollo Camper close to Wes' age named Lee Fletcher. The two of them got on really well right out of the gate. Wes did not manage to get out of explaining to Archer that he had the gift of prophecy, but for some reason, Archer told him that it would be wiser to keep it secret from anyone outside of Apollo Cabin.

Wes wasn't sure why, but he was starting to get the sense that his ability was more dangerous than it seemed. Archer warned that people might try to take advantage of him, or pick on him because they saw him as having an unfair advantage himself. So Wes' powers of foresight became cabin seven's little secret.

Unsurprisingly, Wes demonstrated a knack for archery. He'd never done it before, but it was like the bow simply belonged in his hands. His cabin-mates were very encouraging and helped him with his form so the bowstring didn't snap against his forearm. They were also fun to play basketball with. Wes established a personal record of scoring 90 feet from the hoop. Nowhere near the cabin's record, but still basically a full-court shot.

He wasn't as good as the others in the infirmary, but he wasn't so useless that they sent him out. They mostly had him cut bandages and get things for them, which was fine by Wes. 

When it came to singing camp songs, Wes was exposed for his awful singing voice, but he was picking up the ukulele remarkably fast, so maybe he had inherited a little bit of Apollo's musical talents. Not as much as Lee, though; he was a regular musical prodigy as far as Wes was concerned. At only thirteen, he could play several instruments and his singing voice was downright mellifluous.

The one thing Wes really struggled with in the Apollo Cabin was seeing his cabin mates as his siblings. Technically they were, but Wes already had siblings. These people were basically strangers in comparison. And it didn't really help that he'd made a conscious decision not to think of Apollo as anything like a father to him back when he was ten years old. 

The Apollo campers were warm, and accepting, and he liked them a lot... but they weren't family. Not yet, at least.

Aside from that, the only thing that really bothered him about this place was the pine tree that wasn't there, the one he kept seeing on the crest of the hill.

He brought it up to Chiron once, in private, and Chiron told him that sometimes they couldn't know what a prophecy meant until it came to pass. Wes only begrudgingly accepted that answer. He didn't like it.

What was the point of seeing the future if it didn't make sense until it became the past?

That pine tree became increasingly frustrating. Even more so than the monster attacks. They weren't daily or anything, but there had been two so far, counting the drakon, and both had been taken care of with only mild injuries and no deaths. That pine tree though....

Once, when Wes saw it, there was something gold hanging in its branches, and a dragon wrapped around its trunk fast asleep. Then he blinked, and the golden thing and the dragon were both gone. Then he blinked and the tree was gone too.

At the end of the second week, there was a terrible summer storm. For some reason, while the storm raged, Wes' eyes were drawn to the top of the hill. Each time a strike of lightning lit up the darkness, the pine tree appeared, just for that instant, before vanishing again. That felt important, but Wes didn't know why.

He told Archer about it, but Archer just told him the same thing Chiron did.

He didn't like it any better the second time.

Then, one night, Wes had a dream. He dreamed about the pine tree. About lightning striking, about a hoard of monsters straight from Hades.

The forbidden child approaches, the dream told him. The forbidden child approaches.

When he awoke, he thought about telling Chiron again, but then he remembered what he'd said before.

"You can't always know what a prophecy means until it comes to pass."

Wes sure as Hades didn't know what a 'forbidden child' was, and Chiron had already said he had no idea what the pine tree meant. Maybe this was one of those things where he should just wait and see how it panned out, rather than bothering anybody with his stupid dreams again.

Although... the last time he'd had a dream like that, it had told him Apollo would visit his mom.

But Apollo hadn't been in this dream. Just that stupid pine tree and a bunch of monsters. And it wasn't even worth it to warn everybody of monsters coming because he had no idea when this was going to happen.

Maybe he should ask anyway.

"Hey, Chiron," he asked the centaur during archery practice, "Do you know what a forbidden child is?"

Suddenly, Wes felt as if he'd been struck by something heavy falling on him. He stumbled and let go of his bowstring and the arrow missed the target by a mile. As it left his bow, he could swore the whistling sound it made as it shot toward a tree trunk sounded like an apology.

"Sorry, kid," it said. "I hate to do this to ya. I can't defy my father, you understand." Then it pierced the tree trunk with a thunk.

"My, are you alright, Wes?" Chiron asked.

"I'm... fine, but my question."

"I'm afraid not," he said. "I suppose if a child were to be sired by one of the three most powerful gods they might be considered a forbidden child, since the three of them swore on the River Styx not to sire children. But no such child exists."

"What if one did?" Wes asked. "And what if they were coming here and a whole bunch of monsters were chasing them?"

"That would be preposterous," Chiron assured him. "None of those gods would go back on their word, not when it's so important for them to honor it."

"But I saw it happen!" Wes insisted. "I saw three demigods and satyr climbing that hill," he pointed to the camp's border. "I saw them being chased by a horde of monsters from the underworld. I heard the trees whisper that a forbidden child approaches. I saw it in my dream last night."

"Dear boy," Chiron said. "You may have the gift of prophecy, but not every dream is prophetic. There is no forbidden child, and no horde of monsters. I can assure you. I hope you'll be able to calm down now."

"What?"

This didn't make any sense. Chiron's advice was sometimes frustrating, but he'd never been dismissive like this. He knew what Wes could do, what he could see. He knew that prophecies should be taken seriously. So what the heck was this?

"Why don't you focus on your archery for now?"

"But...." Wes was too confused to formulate a proper argument. He shook his head, his face scrunched up in a mix of emotions. "Okay...."

Wes lifted the bow again and lined up his shot. This time, his arrow flew true, and landed right in the bull's eye. But again, the sound of the arrow taking flight was a whispered apology.

"I cannot defy my father's wishes," it said. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

That night, Wes had the same dream again. The forbidden child approaches. The forbidden child approaches.

A few days later, on an otherwise ordinary evening, while the campers were enjoying dinner, it happened. An uproarious cacophony of monstrous shrieks and bellows shook the valley. The blue sky darkened as smoke rose up from the far side of the hill.

Wes sprinted to get his bow and arrows and followed the rest of his cabin mates to the ridge while the other campers headed for the hilltop. 

They couldn't get ready fast enough.

They weren't even halfway to their positions when four figures crested the hill, three demigods and a satyr.

"Go!" one of the figures, a girl, shouted. "I'll hold them off!"

She stopped at the top of the hill, wielding a spear and a shield, and the other three kept running. She fought valiantly, slashing and stabbing at bat-winged creatures and hell hounds until they overwhelmed her, and she fell.

It was only then that the other campers finally got close enough to help her.

They were too late. Wes knew it innately. That girl was the forbidden child, and she was going to die.

Without warning, a bolt of lightning shot out of the clear blue sky, and struck the girl. Then she started to change. 

As the battle raged around her, she grew bark and sprouted branches until a tall, proud pine tree stood where she'd once been lying, half-dead on the ground. 

Wes had seen that tree before. This time, though, it was actually real. It didn't disappear when he tried to blink it away.

A pulse of light emitted from the tree, expelling all the monsters from within the bounds of the camp. Then the light faded, leaving an invisible barrier protecting all the demigods within its bounds.

Later, the three who survived explained what happened. The satyr, Grover Underwood told them all that Thalia was a child of Zeus, a forbidden child. He explained that ever since he'd found her, creatures of Hades had been chasing them. Hades himself had sent them, angry at his brother for breaking their pact.

Wes kept his anger contained until Chiron dismissed everyone. He waited until everyone else was gone. He stayed silent.

"Is something wrong, Wes?" Chiron asked, noticing that he wasn't going to leave.

"I told you this was going to happen," he said, barely keeping a lid on his rage. "I warned you about the forbidden child, about the monsters from Hades, all of it. You didn't listen to me. You told me it was just a dream. 

"If you'd just listened, we could have done something. We could have put a group of guards up on the hill. We could have been prepared for this! Thalia Grace didn't have to die!"

"I'm sorry," Chiron said. "I don't know what came over me. I knew of your abilities, and yet... when you told me about the forbidden child, it was as if... ah... I see...."

"What?" Wes did not accept this apology. He glared viciously at the centaur.

"Did you hear anything else? That day you told me about your dream, or afterwards?" 

His glare eased as he thought about it.

"Actually, right before I told you, when I stumbled and my arrow misfired, it sounded like an apology" Wes recalled. "And then again the next time I fired at the target. 'I'm sorry. I cannot defy my father,' is what it said."

"The arrow spoke to you?" Chiron repeated derisively, but he quickly shook his head with pained expression. "My apologies.

"It is the fate of all oracles that such great power must come at a price," he said. "Either one must make a willing sacrifice to balance out that power, such as the Oracle of Delphi does, living as a maiden her whole life in a cave. Or, the gift will lead the bearer to be cursed, such as Tiresias who was inflicted with blindness, or... Cassandra.

"I believe Zeus did not want the secret of his child to get out," he continued, "so he had his son Apollo inflict you with Cassandra's curse to prevent you from sharing what you knew, or rather, to prevent anyone from believing you, even if you did."

"What exactly is this curse?" asked Wes.

"That you may see the future, but that you cannot share it with anyone, for they will never believe you," Chiron answered. "It's a terrible curse. It means only you alone will ever be able to benefit from your abilities, but you cannot help others with them."

"Is there a way to break it?" Wes asked.

"I'm afraid not," the centaur answered mournfully. "A seer's curse cannot be broken. Even those who know of the curse will have difficulty overcoming it's effects. Even I... well, you've seen already. I have a strong enough will to fight my initial reaction if I'm ready for it, but my initial reaction will always be disbelief. I'm sorry, Wes."

Chiron's appraisal turned out to be right on the money. As much fun as Wes had at camp that summer, and as much as he learned and grew, his precognition became completely useless. Even his cabin-mates, who already knew about his powers, didn't believe his visions until they came true.

Sometimes people would even ignore things Wes didn't realize were prophecies. The entire Aphrodite Cabin got poison ivy, all because their counselor didn't listen when Wes said to take the other path.

The same thing happened when he went back home at then end of the summer. His mother, who always humored his hunches before, now fully dismissed them. His father would laugh like Wes was telling him a joke.

And the next summer, when he returned to Camp Half-Blood, it was the same story. 

Now that they had a magic barrier, there weren't any monster attacks to keep their skills sharp, they'd introduced regular games of Capture the Flag in the woods. It was the perfect opportunity for Wes to use his foresight to help his team win, but when none of them would listen to him, he had to go ahead on his own.

He won the game for his team, but it wasn't as satisfying as he'd thought it would be.

It was a relief when he finally went home for the summer. He wasn't looking forward to starting high school, but outside of camp, there were a lot fewer situations where not being able to tell people about his visions was a serious problem. Or so he thought.

Strange things happened in Amity Park that year. There were monsters around town that everyone could see, ghosts, rather. Not from Greek myths, but from a portal to another realm in the Fentons' basement.

Wes tried to make it not his problem, he really did.

Until the night he woke up in a cold sweat with prophetic knowledge echoing in his brain.

Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom.

But no one would ever believe him.

[asterssunzephyr]

Silena, like Piper, had told herself she wasnt going to be a heartbreaker. She told herself she wasnt going to fall into the vicious cycle of hurting people who love her.

The entire Aphrodite cabin knew of her promise, knew about Piper's promise. After Silena, they never made that promise to themself like Piper had. But Piper didnt know Silena, didnt know that she did break the promise.

Piper knew Silena died.

She didnt know Silena's heart had broken with Beckondorf's death. She didnt know Clarisse's heart had broke with Chris's mentality and Silena's death.

Piper hadnt know the hit Will had taken from his siblings deaths during the Second Titan war, she hadnt known about Will's grief from Silena's death either.

Piper didnt know Annabeth had been close to Silena, Piper didnt know that many survivors of the Titan war were close to Silena like the Aphrodite cabin. Piper didnt know that Silena too had fallen victim to the cycle of heartbreakers in the Aphrodite cabin.

So Piper promised her she wouldnt break anyone's heart.

SPOILERS BELOW

Piper broke that promise too, before Jason died. And then he died, and Piper understood every emotion that Will would vaguely hint at, or why Clarisse stared at the Aphrodite cabin and Apollo cabin with regret and self-hatred, or why Chris would frown when passing the Aphrodite cabin. or why Annie would zone out, and mumble to Percy about Silena at times (She noticed Annie mouth the name "Luke" a few times too, and she would notice how Percy's face would fall when either name were mentioned to him from her. She never asked.)

She understood now, that the curse of her cabin isnt just the heartbreak of other campers – its the heartbreak of Aphrodite's children too. Its there so that Aphrodite children know the pain of having a broken heart, its thete so that they too know what the other is going through when the curse strikes again.

And Piper wishes she never made that stupid promise, because maybe Jason would be in New Rome with Percy and Annie, at college. or maybe he'd be eating with Thalia at New Rome when the hunters would stop by with Reyna.

She wishes she hadnt been foolish like Silena.

[captainsophiestark]

So something crazy happened this week - I hit 1.5k followers! 🥳

Genuinely thank you all so much for following me and supporting my writing. When I first joined Tumblr, I truly never could've dreamed how wonderful the community, friends, and fandom I've found would be. I love you all so much!

I've never done a follower celebration before, but I really wanted to do one for this milestone, so here we are! It's D&D themed, but no knowledge of D&D is required to join in the fun.

Our 1.5k follower campaign is going to be running from today, May 29th, to Wednesday, June 6th. During that time, feel free to send me as many things off the list below as you like! Interacting with people on here is one of my absolute favorite parts of Tumblr, so feel free to come into my ask box as many times as you like 😄

I'll be tagging all posts for this celebration as #Sophie's 1.5k Follower Campaign. You don't have to follow me to participate, but it would be greatly appreciated. Without further ado, here are the actions you can take during this campaign:

Zone of Truth - Send me an ask with a game, like KMK/FMK, Would You Rather, or anything else you can think of!

Roll Initiative - Roll some dice and send me a character from the list at the bottom of this post, along with the numbers you rolled! I have prompt lists left over from my Year of Fic planning, and I'll put your character and your dice rolls togeter to write a corresponding headcanon (or possibly longer fic, if the inspiration really strikes!). Roll one of the following, some of the following, or all of the following: 1d8, 1d10, 1d12, and 1d20. You can roll with real dice or by typing "roll dice" into google! Please specificy if you have a strong preference between a romantic or platonic fic.

Nat 20 (2 left) - Send me a character I write for and a request, and I'll write you a oneshot! My time's a little limited right now, so I'm capping these at 3 total requests. In the immortal words of Brian Murphy, "Roll three Nat 20s in a row!". If you want to also roll a d20 and send me the result, I'll add a dialogue prompt corresponding with the number you rolled to the request. Please specificy if you have a strong preference between romanitc and platonic fic.

Perception Check - I have a good amount of writing queued up for my Year of Fic and a few other projects, so send me this for a sneak peek of works to come! If you want to include a few fandoms or characters you'd most like to see included in the sneak peek, feel free to do that! Just no promises that I'll have something including them to show you

Behind the DM Screen - Send me the title of an existing fic of mine, along with specific questions if you have them, and I'll give you a little info on the process of creating the fic!

Free Action - Come into my ask box and chat with me! About fandoms, cute pet pitcures, or whatever else! Anons are welcome as usual, and if you feel like you want to be recognized without coming off anon, then you can claim an emoji and use it as a signature on your asks, so I know who you are! As of now, 🥰 emoji is the only one taken

Thank you again to every single one of you who's here with me now, from the beginning of this blog or from earlier today! I'm so happy to have you here and as a part of the party!

Writing Request Character Options:

Bridgerton: Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton

Crescent City: Tristan Flynn, Ithan Holstrom, Lidia Cervos

DC: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd

Marvel: Grant Ward, Jack Thompson, Daniel Sousa, Angie Martinelli, Harley Keener, Pietro Maximoff

*Riordanverse: Luke Castellan, Thalia Grace, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Jason Grace

Star Trek: Jim Kirk

Star Wars: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala

Top Gun: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

The Vampire Diaries: Mason Lockwood, Klaus Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson, Damon Salvatore, Enzo St. John, Kai Parker, Caroline Forbes, Matt Donovan

*All characters in the Riordanverse are going to be book-based, since that's what I know best, and will be written as their ages at the end of Heroes of Olympus or older for requests involving romance

****************

Tagging a few mutuals who I've absolutely loved getting to this point with 🥰 thank you guys for being such a wonderful part of my experience in this place!

@ghostofskywalker @bandshirts-andbooks @trekkingaroundasgard @arttheclown-coveredinblood @flowers-and-fichte @everyhazyday @dawn-petrichor-world @space-helen @ro-is-struggling @writeroutoftime @shadowdaddies @hawaiianpizzaenjoyer