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#and the campers know that he won’t use his powers on them since he’s not unhinged
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I just decided that Percy is immune to boiling water. Imagine a camper accidentally spilling their hot tea on Percy and being all like “omg I’m so sorry please don’t tell Annabeth” and he didn’t even notice.
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tqsg · 1 year
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i never let myself fall in love. i never let myself even think about loving someone. love was nothing but pain, nothing but anguish.
i’m not saying i feel love towards this boy. i feel something though. chiron told me his name is percy jackson. i’ve just been helping out chiron, helping this boy heal. the news about his “grand entrance” into camp has been spreading like wildfire, and let’s just say it ain’t pretty.
apparently, he beat the minotaur. yeah, that would be impressive for anyone at camp, i think. but… because of my past? holy hera… who is this boy?
he intrigues me, i’ll admit. we’ve been giving him so, so much ambrosia. even a little bit would kill any mortal. you have to be really careful when giving it out, even to someone who is a demigod.
i guess i should explain some things. hi, my name is annabeth chase. my dad is just a normal guy (aside from being a jerk that is), but that’s basically the only normal thing about me. my mom is athena, the greek goddess of wisdom. yep, the greek gods are real, surprise! they have navigated to different areas over time, until they arrived here, in new york.
i live at camp half-blood, a safe place for demigods to stay and train for battle. it’s located in long island sound, at the end of a farm road 3.14. you see, demigods are chased by types of ancient greek monsters, so we need to be ready when we go against them. the real world is way too dangerous for a large majority of us, so a lot of us stay at camp. more people than not go home when summer ends, but i don’t. i’ve lived at camp since i was seven, when i ran away from my dad’s home in virginia.
chiron, the camp director, has been there for me ever since. i honestly would trust him with my life. well, i guess i do. i think he trusts me too, since i’ve known him for quite some time now. if anyone were to be my dad, i would want him to take on that role. yes, he is the same chiron who trained the heroes from greek mythology. he migrated to america when the gods did, been here ever since.
percy keeps coming in and out of consciousness, making random noises as he does. he must be on the literal verge of death. at this point. i’m not going to let him jump off this cliff, though. not just because he’s so interesting, but because he’s a person. he, as with anyone else at camp, deserves to live a life.
he’s strong, i know that at least. how could anyone, but specifically a twelve year old defeat a horribly powerful, ancient monster? it shouldn’t be possible. my mind has been running a thousand miles a minute, ever since he has arrived. although, it always does. i have adhd, dyslexia too. a lot of demigods do. adhd helps give us fast reflexes on the battle field, and dyslexia helps us read greek. it’s wired in our brains, there to help us survive.
i won’t let myselt get attached to him, i won’t. he’s just another camper… right? he was probably just lucky. probably.
i help him sip some nectar, and then he drifts back into a state of sleep. i let myself look at him, observe him. his eyes are fluttered shut and his hair is colored jet black. he makes me almost angry. there’s no reason for it, he’s just a boy. but he does. he makes me so unbelievably rageful.
what is it about you, mystery boy? what is it that intrigues me so? and how do i make it stop?
love is dangerous, that’s something i’ve known since a very young age. love makes you do stupid things, like ruin people. like ruin lives.
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Posting snippets from that WIP challenge post one at a time, part 20
((This WIP challenge post! Back after a hiatus!! XD
Today’s fic from the random draw is #12: SU x Holes
This is some potential snippets of extra chapters of “Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother”. And that’s really all they are: snippets. XP Most are surrounding a catalyst for the actual plot starting, which I think I’ve decided are the events of the SU movie somehow starting to commence without him? (Because he’s been in Camp Green Lake since he was 14 and I timeskipped it to when he’s 16 already in what was posted.)
The longest snippet is a convo between X-Ray and Steven after Connie has randomly shown up in camp on Lion and then beat a hasty retreat after not getting the response she wanted from Steven before camp staff could see and bust her. The snippet is actually pretty long so what’s shared here is just an excerpt after X-Ray lets Steven know he saw that he was fraternizing with a definitely-not-a-camper girl and that he won’t tell if Steven tells him how the girl got there. Steven has just essentially offered the “what’s in it for me” rebuttal.
Snippet:
"I thought you might not open up so easy, even with the 'I won't blackmail ya' angle. So… I'm gonna let you in on some intel I've been hearing around the camp." He glanced to the side, then stared Steven directly in the eye. "...Look, I know how you've been getting over… fresh campers… ever since what happened with that Aden kid." He treaded uncharacteristically delicately. "...Our tent's getting a new guy."
Steven paled.
That cot had been empty since… huh, it was pretty soon after his dad's last letter before New Year's… January? February, perhaps--new campers had come into some of the other tents, B Tent or F Tent and stuff like that, and every time, without fail, no matter that they were in a different tent, no matter that they hadn't said a single word to him, the unfamiliar faces put him on edge, shook him so visibly that you could see it from half a mess hall away.
Maybe the staff noticed. Maybe the staff felt sorry for him somehow, deep down.
Or maybe, even if the better part of nine months was an awful long time for a cot to go empty around here, it just happened to take that long for it to be D Tent's turn.
After all, it wasn't like the Warden much cared if you didn't like a tentmate or vice-versa. She didn't care about your feelings. All she cared about was more holes. And an empty cot just couldn't dig them.
Cue Steven being forced to uphold his end of the bargain after receiving such earth-shattering intel, and coming out of the gate by letting X-Ray know he has magic powers. Yeah. That doesn’t sound fake at all to this troubled teenage boy who has literally never seen anything weird about this boy in front of him other than the huge pink gem in him that the camp’s staff pretends doesn’t exist.
Side note: In an attempt to be as knowledgeable as I could get about writing this fic back when I started it, not only did I use my SU knowledge, but I reread Holes, rewatched the Holes movie, and read the Stanley Yelnats guide to Camp Green Lake book for the first time. IDK how much it actually helped. XP
Home stretch!
(The complete randomly generated order is this:  9, 2, 6, 10, 18, 19, 22, 20, 15, 8, 14, 26, 11, 17, 16, 23, 21, 1, 3, 12, 24, 5, 13, 25, 4, 7 FWIW XP)
))
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choerrypuffs · 4 years
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my best friend wants to be abducted by aliens.
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pairing: son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader
genre: fluff, angst
word count: 14.6k (this was supposed to be 5k 😌)
author’s note: hi so here is renjun’s chapter to my 00 line x camp half-blood series (i’m sorry, i know it took forever)! thank you so much for all of the support, and i hope you enjoy 💞
warning: one (1) makeout session
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You are currently crouched behind a cluster of bushes, trying to get a glimpse of your targets through binoculars. 
Does that sound stalkerish? Perhaps. 
Are you actually a stalker? Debatable. 
However, no matter how suspicious it looks, your motive is pure—for the most part. 
You’re spying on Kang Daniel (son of Hermes) and Park Jihyo (daughter of Apollo), both of whom are at the Archery Range. Jihyo is showing Daniel how to shoot, encasing him with her arms as she nocks the arrow for him. The tips of his ears are so red that they could practically be a flare; you can see how flamboyant they are all the way from your hiding spot. 
You start grinning like a maniac, excited that your plan is finally unfolding. 
You had noticed how awful Daniel was at archery during a training session a couple weeks ago, and you casually suggested to him that he should ask Jihyo for some lessons. You’ve always known that Daniel has been hopelessly in love with Jihyo since the moment he saw her (it’s a child of Aphrodite thing—you can just sense it), but she’s been oblivious to it this entire time. 
Well, until now. 
Just as you guessed, sparks flew immediately. You could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. You give them a couple more passionately-charged archery lessons before they inevitably surrender to their emotions and begin to date—and your predictions are never wrong. 
“Another job well done, Y/N,” you mumble proudly to yourself, “Mom would be so proud.”
“Excuse me, ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to stop loitering by these bushes and stalking those two campers over there, or else I’ll have to report you to the camp director,” a sudden voice from behind you says. 
Letting out a loud yelp, you drop your binoculars in surprise and whip your head around to see who it is. You turn so fast that you almost fall backwards into said bushes, quickly using your palms to balance yourself. 
“Renjun, you asshole!” 
Huang Renjun, your long-time best friend and professional asshole, is standing in front of you. He’s wearing the iconic orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt with black jeans, his hands tucked inside his pockets. His dark hair is parted to one side, with a single lock of hair falling perfectly into one eye, giving him the I-wake-up-and-my-hair-is-naturally-like-this look (even though it’s most definitely not true). No doubt that he’s the best-looking person in the entire camp, but his brusque personality makes him a rose with thorns. Sharp thorns.
You often wonder how the two of you even became as close as you are. Children of Athena and Aphrodite notoriously clash due to their mothers’ history with each other. 
You met Renjun four years ago at Arts and Crafts Center, which is a hotspot for children of Athena. It was your first time at the camp, and you wanted to try making a ceramic (maybe a bowl or vase) to bring back to your family as a souvenir. Of course, you failed miserably and got snickered at by other Athena kids. Renjun, who had been sitting beside you, was the only one who didn’t laugh. He even gruffly gave you some pointers. Grateful, you complimented his painting—a mix of pink, yellow, blue, and purple watercolors that meshed together to resemble a galaxy. In return, he gave it to you.
“It’s not my best work, so you can have it,” he had said nonchalantly.
Even though it was the most beautiful piece of art you’ve ever seen, and it’s remained one of your most prized possessions to this day. 
After that incident, you basically attached yourself at the hip with him. He would constantly complain about you following him around, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. He’s been complaining for four, going on five, years now, yet he’s become your closest friend. Renjun likes act like you’re a pain in the ass (which isn’t untrue), but you know he cares about you. Even if he doesn’t verbalize it, you can tell by his actions; it’s all about the small things with him. Despite being rough around the edges, Huang Renjun is actually just a big softie on the inside. 
“—could you stop snooping around like a weirdo?” Renjun asks, cutting your trip down memory lane short.
You rise to your feet, dusting your palms off and glaring at him. “I’m not snooping around like a weirdo. I’m just snooping around on one of my projects, like a good matchmaker.”
“Sure,” he says, rolling his eyes. He leans down and picks up your binoculars, handing them to you. 
You take them and hang them around your neck. “Why are you here anyway?”
“Aren’t you the one who asked me to meet you at the Dining Pavilion for lunch?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“Oh, sorry! I lost track of time,” you exclaim. “How’d you find me?”
Renjun gives you a pointed look. “Well, seeing as how Daniel and Jihyo are your current quote-unquote project, all I had to do was figure out where they were because I knew you’d be somewhere close.”
You give him a sheepish smile. “You know me so well, Junnie.”
“The hell? Don’t call me that, it’s gross,” he snaps, pretending like he’s about to gag.
“You’re not cute at all,” you huff. 
“Neither are you,” he replies.
“You are so rude! You’ll never get a girlfriend with an attitude like that!” You place your hands on your hips.
“I’ll live,” he says, shrugging. 
You don’t know much about Renjun’s love life because he refuses to tell you anything; he’s like a stubborn clam that won’t open up. However, he’s made it very clear that he does not want your assistance when it comes to finding romance. Obviously, it hasn’t stopped you from trying, but this is one of the few things you can’t seem to make him give in to. 
Yet.
“Whatever,” you sigh. “Let’s go eat.”
The two of you walk to the Dining Pavilion, which is a relatively long walk from the Archery Range, but you make enough conversation that it feels short. When you arrive, you see that they’re serving chicken curry and rice. Your stomach growls embarrassingly loudly when the mouthwatering scent hits you, which prompts Renjun to laugh at you. You give him the middle finger and then turn around to grab a lunch tray. Once you get your food, you two sit at a table in the back. 
Before you begin to eat, you notice that your curry has chunks of potatoes and slices of carrots on it—you abhor carrots more than anything in this world. Noticing your disgusted expression, Renjun slides his plate over without even batting an eyelash, so you can pick out the carrot slices and give them to him. It’s a routine thing for the two of you, since you’re an extremely picky eater and he’s not.
After you take out all of the carrots, you begin to devour your food. You’re wolfing it down so fast that you’re basically asking to choke, in which you immediately do. A piece of chicken lodges itself in your throat, and you begin to cough violently. Renjun sighs, patting your back before handing you your cup of water. 
“I feel like I’m babysitting a toddler every time I eat with you,” he points out as you gulp down your water. 
“Thanks,” you say after you recover.
“For dislodging the food in your esophagus or calling you a toddler?” 
“Both!” you say cheerfully. 
Renjun shakes his head at you, but he’s smiling. You take advantage of his good mood by quickly reaching over and swiping a couple of grapes from the fruit bowl on his tray. He rolls his eyes when you pop them into your mouth and wink at him. 
“Um, Renjun?” A small, different voice cuts in. Both of you turn around to see who it is. 
Hwang Yeji, daughter of Iris and one of the most popular girls at the camp, is standing there. She’s fidgeting, and you can see pink dusting her cheeks. Her friends are at the table right behind her, giving her supportive looks. She smiles shyly at Renjun. 
“Can I help you?” Renjun asks, deadpanning. He isn’t rude per se, but it’s also not a friendly tone. 
Yeji slightly falters at his lackluster response. “Oh, um, I’m going to be performing at the amphitheater tonight...and I was wondering if you could come watch?”
“Why?” 
You know Renjun is asking because he’s genuinely baffled, but it doesn’t lessen your urge to want to slap him upside the head.
“N-No particular reason! O-Okay, bye!” Yeji turns on her heel and runs away. You watch her go back to her table, head hung low in defeat.
“What was that all about?” Renjun is still bewildered. 
No longer able to control yourself, you punch him in the arm. “You moron!”
“Ow! What the hell, Y/N?” he hisses, rubbing his arm.
“She invited you to watch her perform because she likes you!” you hiss. 
“What? No, she doesn’t.” He furrows his eyebrows. 
“Yes, she does! I should know of all people, you dingus. Even without powers, literally anyone else would be able to see that Yeji likes you!” You’re trying your best to keep your voice down, but he’s making it difficult for you. “You are the densest person on the planet!”
“Look who’s talking,” Renjun mutters underneath his breath. 
“I can’t believe you just blew her off like that,” you continue, not hearing what he said.
“How was I supposed to know she liked me? I’ve never even spoken to her,” he protests.
You stare at him in disbelief. “Couldn’t you tell by the context clues?” 
“What context clues?”
“Oh my gods,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.
“What do you want me to do then?” he asks tiredly. 
“Go to her performance tonight,” you say immediately, uncovering your face and whipping your head to look at him with a hopeful expression.
“I don’t really want to though. There’s no point in getting her hopes up if I don’t like her back,” Renjun states matter-of-factly.
“How do you not even have a little bit of interest in her? Look at her! She’s stunning!” You feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head.
“I’m not saying she isn’t, but I just don’t feel anything special towards her,” he explains. 
“You’re actually insane,” you say incredulously. “There’s no way someone can look at Hwang Yeji and say they don’t feel anything special.”
“If you feel so strongly about it, you could date her,” he suggests.
“No, I’ve decided,” you cut him off, slamming your hand on the table with determination. “I’m going to find you a girlfriend.”
“I’ll have to respectfully decline your services,” he answers, sighing.
“Give me one week,” you plead, “all of my matches have worked out within a week. Please, Renjun? The worst thing that can happen is that you actually like someone and you two become a couple.” 
“And what if it doesn’t work out?” He tilts his head.
“Then, I’ll drop the girlfriend topic for good. I swear on River Styx. And I’ll also give up my title as Camp Half-Blood’s official matchmaker,” you promise.
“You gave yourself that title.”
“Shut up.”
“Why are you so adamant on finding me a girlfriend anyway?” he asks.
“Because you’re so set on not getting a girlfriend, and that drives me crazy. I want to know just who on this Earth can make you feel something special, if even Yeji can’t do it. I want to crack you, like a walnut,” you admit.
“Bad analogy.”
“Yeah, it sounded better in my head.”
Renjun falls quiet, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he weighs the pros and cons of your proposition. Athena kids think way too much and way too loudly; they need to let loose and follow their hearts more.
You sit in anticipation for just a little longer before you see the tension on his face begin to dissipate and his features begin to droop. It’s an expression you know well; he’s going to let you have your way, like he always does. 
He pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “You get five days. That’s it.”
You squeal loudly, launching yourself at him so you can envelop him in a big bear hug. He grunts as he catches you, saving the both of you from toppling backwards onto the floor. “You’re the best, Renjun!”
Even when he’s irritated or annoyed, Renjun never pushes you away when you hug him. He isn’t exactly the affectionate type, yet his embrace is always so warm and calming. His words may be cutthroat, but his actions are always gentle.
He circles his arms around your waist loosely as he sighs into your hair, seemingly waiting for you to pull back to face him before he says anything. When you do, he flicks you on the forehead instead.
Okay, so you take the his actions are always gentle part back.
“Ouch!” You shrug yourself out of his hold, rubbing the probably reddening spot on your forehead.
“Payback for punching me earlier,” Renjun says, crossing his arms. “But are you sure about this?”
“What do you mean?” 
“You have a perfect record when it comes to your matches. Plus, you’re losing two out of your usual seven days. Are you sure you want to risk breaking your streak?” he asks. 
“What makes you think it’ll get broken?” you shoot back.
“I don’t just think; I know it will,” he smirks arrogantly. “That’s why I’m asking.”
You feel your left eye twitch. Riled up by his cocky demeanor, you grab your cup and chug the rest of your water, wincing like you just downed a shot. Wiping your mouth, you point your finger at him.
“Huang Renjun, just you wait. I’ll make you fall in love so hard that you’ll forget your own name.”
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ও DAY ONE.
The Athena Cabin is a marvel to you every time you enter it. Rather than a cabin, it’s a workshop and a library in one on the inside. There are beds pushed haphazardly against the walls, and if you didn’t know that this was the official Athena Cabin, you would’ve thought that the Athena children had simply just crashed at a random facility at the camp and decided to call it their place of residence. 
Renjun is still asleep, despite the commotion of his brothers and sisters running around in the library and/or constructing something in the workshop. His bed is located in the very back, hidden by a bookshelf that’s not frequented often. He’s curled up into a ball, with the blanket covering his head but you can still see tufts of his hair sticking out from under it. 
“Rise and shine!” you sing, lifting blanket off his face. 
His peaceful expression twists with discomfort as its exposed to light, and he immediately rips the pillow out from under his head and puts it over his face. He says something to you, but his words are muffled. You just assume it’s some sort of profanity. 
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty! We have business to attend to,” you say cheerfully, taking the pillow away and tossing it to the foot of his bed.
“And what exactly is this supposed business?” Renjun asks dryly, opening his eyes and squinting up at you. 
“We’re going to scout for potential candidates for you,” you answer as you grab his arm and pull him up. He reluctantly lets you, slumping forward like a limp puppet. 
“Isn’t that your job?” He raises an eyebrow, running a hand through his messy bedhead. Renjun always looks particularly adorable when he wakes up. His pajamas consist of a pair of basketball shorts and an extremely stretched-out t-shirt. The shirt is so big that it’s slipping off his shoulder, which makes him look like a little kid. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of directions, and you can’t help but grin at how cute it is. 
“Yes, but you’re a special case.” You talk to him like he’s five, running your hands through his hair and messing it up even more. Renjun scowls at you, but he sits there and lets you do it.
“Geez, who peed in your cornflakes?” you tease, seeing his stormy look. 
“You.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll wait for you outside, but don’t take too long to get ready,” you say, finally retracting your hands. “No more than thirty minutes or else I’m gonna come find you!” 
He gives you another nasty look, and you blow him a kiss before skipping away. As you head back to the entrance, you greet a couple of Athena kids who pass by. Normally, Aphrodite and Athena children stick their noses up in the air and ignore each other, but you’re such a frequent visitor that they have had no choice but to accept you. It also helps that Renjun is quite popular, so the campers that don’t like you are forced to tolerate you anyway because you’re his best friend. 
That’s another thing you don’t understand—why Renjun hangs out with you when everyone around him is practically foaming at the mouth at the prospect of being his friend (or something more). But for reasons unknown to you, he chooses to ice them out and spend time with you instead.
It’s not that you’re inherently unpopular or someone that would “tarnish” his reputation, but he could probably find someone that annoyed him less and didn’t cause as much trouble as you do. However, you’re glad that he’s choosing to stay by your side in spite of how crazy you can get, because you’re not really sure what you would do without him. 
Not that you would ever admit that because Renjun would roast you to high Olympus.  
As if on cue, you spot Renjun trudging toward you. True to your request, he got ready within thirty minutes. In fact, it only took him about fifteen. He doesn’t look very happy, but he’s always had a resting bitch face (though you’re pretty sure he’s just pissed at you right now).
Strangely, you’re a little embarrassed to see him. You’re not sure why you suddenly thought of your friendship with him and got all sappy. You’ve never really been good at handling the mushy-gushy stuff—only helping others find it.
“Let’s get this over with,” Renjun says begrudgingly when he reaches you, crossing his arms.
“Okay, well, first thing’s first,” you respond, trying to get back on track. You loop your arm through his, which prompts him to instantly uncross his own so you can cling onto his bicep. It’s such a natural action for you that you don’t even think about how quickly he accommodates you. “What’s your type?”
“Where are we going?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows as he lets you lead him around.
“That depends on your answer to my question,” you reply breezily.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the one who figures that out? You know, with your whole Aphrodite-love-sense-tingle thing.” 
You ignore his dig at your ability. “Normally, yes. But seeing as you’re incapable of feeling any emotion other than bitterness, I have to directly ask you.” 
He laughs at your comeback. “I see. But even if I do tell you my type, what makes you think she will like me too?” 
“If she doesn’t, then just woo her with your irresistible charm,” you say sarcastically. 
“My irresistible charm has a tendency to make people hate my guts, actually,” Renjun says, shrugging. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” 
“Renjun, you are fully capable of making a girl fall for you,” you chide, huffing at his negative attitude. “I’m not concerned with that. My main issue right now is finding someone that will make you care enough to want her to like you back.”
“You think so?” he asks quietly, looking down at where your hand is resting on his arm.
“Hm?” 
“I hope you’re right,” he says a little louder, dragging his gaze away from your hand and giving you a small smile. “About being capable.”
When Renjun looks into your eyes, you feel him for the first time. Your heart wrenches with his, like a knife was driven into it and something keeps twisting it. It’s an excruciating pain that makes your lungs want to cave in, a pain so unbearably sad that it makes you want to assume fetal position and bawl your eyes out, an exhausting pain that drains you of all your energy until you want to collapse, a pain that makes you hate yourself—but it’s a pain you never want to get rid of. It’s a pain that makes you happy. It’s a pain you’re willing to endure for...for...for what? 
But the pain only lasts for a moment, flashing by like lightning. As you try to reach deeper, it slips through your fingers. Just as suddenly as it hit you, it vanishes. What remains in its place is the metaphorical iron wall that you always seem to run into every time you try to look into Renjun’s heart.
You can already feel your body starting to forget the pain. It’s so fast that you begin questioning if you even truly felt it in the first place, or if it was all some fever dream. You could also be having a stroke, so there’s that.
All jokes aside, you’re not sure what you’re more surprised by: the fact that Renjun has been feeling like this or how well he’s managed to hide it. 
And you’re not sure what you’re more hurt by: the fact that Renjun didn’t tell you or if you’re the one he’s trying to hide it from.
“—hello? Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” Renjun waves his hand in front of your face. 
You jolt, blinking several times as you detach yourself from your whirlwind of thoughts. “S-Sorry! What were you saying?”
“What’s wrong?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
“Ghosts don’t exist,” you retort automatically.
“Yes, they do! How many times have I told you there’s no way that my glass bottle could’ve fallen from my bed without shattering, yet it was underneath my bed, completely and totally unsc—” He begins to protest. 
You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. Thankfully, Renjun stops rambling about his ghost story that you’ve heard about a million times and trails off. His hands slowly come to rest on the small of your back, giving you soothing pats. It makes you sad that he’s always ready to comfort you when he’s the one that needs it. Your vision gets blurry with tears, but you hurriedly blink them away.
“How can you be so smart yet so dumb?” you whisper into his shoulder, clutching him tighter.
“You know, you’re sending me mixed signals here,” he says wryly. 
You hug him for a couple more seconds before pulling back. Reaching your hands up, you cup his face. Unfortunately, you do it a little too enthusiastically and basically slap both of his cheeks. “Shit! I’m so sorry, Renjun!” 
“Ow! What is wrong with you?” he demands, wincing. His lips are adorably jutted out and his words probably aren’t as angry as he wants them to be because you’re squishing his cheeks way too hard. 
“I just wanted to tell you that I will definitely find you a girlfriend. No matter what,” you declare with determination in your eyes.
Because I don’t want you to be in pain anymore. Because you deserve to be happy. Because you should have someone to lean on too, you want to say.
Renjun is staring at you like you’ve grown another head. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you dismiss. “Now, hurry up and tell me your ideal type.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 
“Oh my gods, I’m fine. Stop with all the questions and just answer me!” you say, placing your hands on your hips.
“I think I’m starting to reconsider my ideal type right now,” he replies, eyeing you suspiciously. 
You sigh loudly. “Could you tell me one character trait that you would like in a girlfriend? Just one. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
He snorts, and you begin to grow frustrated. “Renjun—”
“Stubborn,” he answers. 
You raise an eyebrow. “Of all the things you could’ve chosen, you went with that?”
“I finally answer your question and now you’re shaming me for it?” he shoots back. 
You put your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, sorry. Anything else you can think of?”
“Unpredictable. Hotheaded. Infuriating. Nosy. Reckless. Unable to take anything seriously. No concept of personal space,” he lists them off like he’s has it memorized.
“These are all terrible traits,” you point out, frowning. 
“Tell me about it.”
“Stop messing around,” you snap, giving him a small shove. “Some positive ones, please.”
Renjun pauses. “This might take a second.”
You give him a pointed look, crossing your arms and tapping your foot impatiently. At this point, you’re not even sure if he’s just joking or if he actually means it. However, it’s the only thing you’ve gotten out of him so far, so you have to work with it. 
“Dedicated,” he finally says after some intense pondering.
You exhale in relief. “Thank gods. What else?”
“Kind. Cheerful. Carefree. Funny. Always makes me smile. Marches to her own beat. An open book when it comes to her feelings. Says whatever is on her mind without thinking twice. Gets excited about things that don’t matter. Has a wonderful laugh. Able to see the good in me, even though I’m an asshole—”
As he continues, you eventually stop paying attention to his words and watch his expression. All of his features have softened, and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He has the gentlest smile on his face as he talks, but you’re not even sure that he’s aware of it. 
You wouldn’t be a child of Aphrodite if you couldn’t recognize a boy in love, and Renjun certainly fits the bill. 
Suddenly, you feel an ugly sensation twisting in the pit of your stomach, coiling like a poisonous snake. It’s an awful feeling, and it makes you ashamed because it resembles jealousy way too closely for your comfort. You hate feeling like this, but you don’t know how to stop it. In fact, you don’t even know why you’re feeling this way. It’s foreign to you, but you know it’s not coming from Renjun. This is all coming from inside you.
“Stunning in every way,” Renjun finishes quietly. His voice is barely a whisper, but you can hear it clearly, as if it’s right in your ear. 
Digging your nails into your palms, you let out a low whistle. “That was very...specific.”
“Afraid of a challenge?” he counters, smirking. 
His banter makes you grin. It’s almost enough to make you forget the feeling in your stomach. You wonder why you keep getting worked up by yourself. Maybe the summer heat is getting to you, and you really are on the verge of having a stroke. 
“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you retort dramatically, clinging onto his arm again. “Alright, let’s go!” 
“Where?” 
“The Training Grounds!” 
“Why there?” His nose crinkles. 
“Your ideal type is as Ares kid as it can get,” you say, snorting. “So, obviously, we’re going to their turf.” 
“Ares children are obnoxious and arrogant,” Renjun scoffs. 
“And you’re a smartass, so it’ll be fine,” you say breezily. 
He rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath. 
“You’re such a drama queen. Besides, it won’t be only Ares kids there,” you point out.
He shrugs in a noncommittal manner but ultimately lets you lead him to the Training Grounds. When you arrive, as expected, it’s mainly Ares kids there. For people who aren’t used to it, the Training Grounds could be mistaken for a battle royale, judging by how vicious it can get at times. Even though it’s just a bunch of sweaty young adults angrily swinging swords at dummies and each other. 
Stroking your chin, you begin to scan the area. It’s only when your eyes fall onto Park Sooyoung, the daughter of Ares that’s infamous for making men cower to their knees, that the lightbulb goes off in your head. 
“What about Sooyoung?” you ask excitedly, tugging on Renjun’s shirt. 
He frowns. “She hates me.”
“You don’t know that,” you say.
“She tried to throw a dagger at my head once,” he states flatly. 
“She does that to everyone,” you dismiss. “I think you two would work well together.”
“Please, enlighten me.” 
“She could be the brawn to your brain. She’s super rambunctious, while you’re more reserved and can keep her in check. But she’ll be able to teach you how to live a little, and you’ll just perfectly balance each other out. You know, that whole opposites attract and enemies to lovers trope,” you explain. 
“Enemies to lovers?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yes,” you say dreamily, “You two start off absolutely despising each other, but neither of you can fight the tension building and eventually just get entangled in the throes of your passion!”
“Okay, Fifty Shades of Grey, calm down,” Renjun says, scrunching up his features in disgust. “Stop writing fanfiction in your head and come back to the real world.”
You glare at him for killing your vibe. “Just go and try to talk to her.”
“I don’t want to be mauled.” There’s actually a small glimmer of fear in his eyes. 
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not gonna kill you. At least not in front of everyone like this,” you reassure him. 
“So you’re admitting that there is a possibility she would kill me.”
Fed up, you snatch his wrist and begin dragging him. He makes noises of protest, but you keep a vice-like grip on him. Sooyoung is sparring with some of her brothers (and frankly, handing their asses to them). You’re envious of how beautiful she is even with sweat dripping from her chin and tendrils of hair stuck to her neck. Her face is flushed with effort, but it makes her look like a peach. 
However, don’t ever judge a book by its cover because she proceeds to lift one of her brothers, as if she’s bench pressing him, and tosses him aside like a rag doll. He comes flying directly toward you, but Renjun wraps an arm around your shoulders and yanks you aside with his surprisingly quick reflexes. Sooyoung’s brother lands with a hard thud, right beside your feet.
Renjun holds you tightly against him as he scowls at Sooyoung, who is smirking at him. Your heart is pounding wildly, though you’re not sure if it’s from the adrenaline rush of one of Sooyoung’s brothers hurling towards you like a projectile or the way Renjun is cradling you to him.
“Are you out of your mind?” Renjun demands, livid. 
“Sorry about that,” Sooyoung says, trying to hide her amusement. 
“No, you’re not. You did it on purpose,” Renjun snaps. 
“Remove head from ass, Huang. If I didn’t think you’d be able to get her out of the way in time, I wouldn’t have done it,” Sooyoung responds, sounding bored.
“What if I hadn’t? Your tank of a brother would’ve knocked Y/N out,” Renjun says angrily, gritting his teeth. “And trust me, she doesn’t need any more screws loose than she already has.”
“Hey!” you chime in, offended. His arm falls from your shoulders and back to his side when you give him a dirty look. He seems a little surprised, whether the reason be from your sudden protest or how long his arm’s been around you. 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sooyoung says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re here to see me, right?” 
Renjun opens his mouth to say something, but you slap a hand over his mouth. “Renjun thinks you’re really pretty and wants to train with you.”
Perhaps you could have delivered it in a smoother manner.
“Mm?” He stares at you with wide, horrified eyes. He’s trying to speak, but it’s all muffled by your palm. 
Sooyoung snorts, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Does he now?” 
“Yes. He’s just too shy to admit it,” you lie through your teeth. 
“Mhm, I’m sure he is,” she laughs. “What’s the actual reason you’re here?”
“Whatever are you talking about? That is the reason,” you answer sweetly. “So, what do you say? Wanna spar him?”
“Mmmmmm!” Renjun has you by the wrist, trying to remove your hand from his mouth, but you won’t budge. 
“You must think I was born yesterday,” Sooyoung sighs. “You’re trying to set us up together, right? Glad to see you’re sticking to your whole matchmaking schtick.”
“Maybe,” you admit sheepishly. “Also, it is not a schtick! I have a natural affinity for finding people that are compatible with each other, like all Aphrodite children, and it is my duty to use that ability in order to help others.”
Despite how proud you look, Sooyoung and Renjun exchange knowing glances, and she reaches forward and gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Stray strong, soldier.”
“Mm,” he responds, sounding tired.
You watch the interaction with a baffled expression. Neither one of them seems intent on providing any context for you. You’re hit with another pang of jealousy. 
“While it would be my utmost honor to be Renjun’s girlfriend, I will have to decline. Firstly, because I would definitely murder him by our third date tops. And secondly, because I already have a girlfriend,” Sooyoung says nonchalantly. 
Your hand goes limp and falls off of Renjun’s mouth, finally freeing him. Your jaw is hanging wide open, a direct invitation for flies. The both of you just stand there and gawk at her. 
“What?” you exclaim, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You have a girlfriend?”
Most Aphrodite kids are just naturally aware of all the couples at Camp Half-Blood whenever they see them, but you make it a point to keep tabs on them so you can avoid incidents like this while you’re trying to find matches for others. Clearly, you’ve missed one. 
“Ye—”
“Who is it?” you demand, resisting the urge to shake her until her bones rattle. “How could I not know about it?”
“Well, that was the goal,” Sooyoung explains, “we want it to be a secret.”
You’re gripping her so tightly that the tips of your fingers have turned white, though you’re sure it doesn’t bother her since she’s pure muscle. You want to know who it is so badly, but you respect her privacy, so you decide to let it go. Even if you really don’t want to.
“I understand,” you say solemnly, begrudgingly releasing her. Your body is slightly twitchy as you fight to control your need to snoop. 
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Renjun cuts in, half-joking and half-concerned. 
“Today has not gone well for me,” you sigh, spirit crushed by the sudden news and exhausted because of your weird mood swings that have been happening. “I’m hot, and I just want a nice, cold shower, followed by some nice, cold ice cream, and then followed by a nice, warm nap. We’ll try this again tomorrow.” 
“Want me to walk you back to your cabin?” Renjun asks. 
You nod, shoulders slumped in defeat. “Sorry to bother you, Sooyoung.”
“No problem. You’ll get ‘em next time,” Sooyoung says, trying to sound encouraging. 
As you turn to pitifully walk away, you notice Sooyoung and Renjun exchange another look in your peripheral. She gives him a thumbs up and he smiles wryly before he also turns to follow you.
It’s just the icing on the cake for your awful day. 
The walk back to your cabin is pretty quiet; Renjun sensing your foul mood and making the wise decision of letting you pout all by your lonesome (not that he’s much of a chatterbox anyway). You’re looking down at your feet as you walk, and he kindly navigates you through crowds and moves you out of the way when campers run by. This is something Renjun does often, since you have a tendency to not pay much attention to your surroundings on a regular basis, so you don’t even think twice about it. 
When you finally arrive, Renjun gives you a comforting pat on the back. “See you tomorrow. I’ll meet you here. Do not barge into my cabin and give me another rude awakening like you did today.”
You give him a strained smile and wink. “No promises.”
Of course, your act doesn’t fool him. He sighs. “Did it really bother you that much that Sooyoung managed to hide her relationship from you? It’s not like you to be so down after one failure.”
Honestly, that’s the least of your concerns right now. Did it hurt your pride? Yes, but you’ve recovered from a wounded pride countless times. 
What bothers you the most right now is the vile jealousy that you’ve stored in your heart. How shitty you felt when he was describing his ideal type (and how absolutely lovestruck he looked), or how bitter you were when you saw that Sooyoung and Renjun were in on something you weren’t. It eats away at you, seemingly within moments, before you even know what’s happening. But why? Where is it all coming from?
This is Renjun you’re talking about. Renjun, your best friend. Renjun, the one who’s always there for you. Renjun, the closest person to you other than your bloodline. 
Or so you thought. 
The pain that you felt from him earlier still haunts you, even if it’s faint. You’ve always seen Renjun as someone you can confide in, no matter what, yet it doesn’t appear like he feels the same towards you. In fact, an irrational part of you thinks you may be the one he’s trying to keep it from. 
And the paranoid part of you thinks Sooyoung knows about it too.
You know it’s horrible to think that, but you can’t control it. Renjun isn’t required to tell you everything he feels just because you do, not that it doesn’t hurt any less. It just bugs you that there could be someone closer to him than even you, which is an incredibly toxic mindset to have. You’re upset by the fact that you’re so possessive of him, yet you can’t seem to let him go either. 
I guess it’s alright if it’s Sooyoung, you admit to yourself, since she has a girlfriend.
You blink.
Wait, what? 
Before you can figure out what the hell your brain meant by that, you feel Renjun place his hand on your forehead. It jars you from your thoughts and you come back to reality, where Renjun is staring at you with furrowed brows as he checks your temperature. 
“Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You’ve been spacing out all day,” he says, clearly worried.
“F-Fine!” you answer way too enthusiastically. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses. “Just go get some rest.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” you nod hurriedly, giving him a two-finger salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early! Don’t oversleep!” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off, smiling. You can tell he’s still concerned, but your brighter attitude relieves him just a tad. “Oh, and Y/N?” 
“Mhm?”
“I forgot to mention one more trait for my ideal type.”
“What is it?” You wish you had never asked him in the first place. Just when your mood was getting a little better, it sours just as quickly. 
“Dense,” he adds. 
You give him a puzzled look. “Huh?”
“I want her to be dense,” he states simply. 
“No way,” you argue, when his words finally register. “How is it gonna work out if both of you are dense as hell?”
“Who knows? Maybe our denseness will cancel each other out, and we’ll fall in love instantly,” he shrugs.
“Of course. PEMDAS and shit,” you jokingly agree.
“Exactly,” he says, nodding with a deadpan expression. 
You laugh loudly—a big belly laugh that makes Renjun beam. The tension eases off his features, and he seems much more reassured. Your heart swells at how hard he’s trying to make sure you’re okay, not that he would ever admit that.
“Okay, for real now. Bye, Y/N.” He gives you a lazy wave before walking away, shattering your touching moment. 
You huff at how he turned around without even letting you respond, though you still wave back (even if he can’t see it), and go back into your cabin. The moment the door closes behind you, you make a beeline for the shower. Peeling off your sweat-soaked clothes, you close your eyes in bliss when the cold water hits you. 
As you let the water run down your body, you begin to feel more and more like a petulant child that just threw the biggest tantrum ever. You’re embarrassed that you overreacted like that and got so emotional for no reason. You chide yourself for being selfish. Just because you’re upset that Renjun doesn’t confide in you the way you do him, it doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t have someone. You should be happy for him when he finds a person he can fully open up to, even more so than you. Isn’t that what you’re trying to do for him right now? 
You shut the water off before slapping your cheeks hard, giving yourself a wake up call. Resolving to be more composed tomorrow, you decide to just take a nap for now as you change into comfortable clothes and dry your hair off. 
When you get to your bed, you see a small bowl of ice cream on your nightstand. Luckily, your shower didn’t take too long, so it’s still relatively frozen. It’s two scoops of chocolate, which is your favorite. You’re so excited that you almost miss the note tucked underneath the bowl. 
don’t know when you’re going to get out of the shower, so this might just be soup by the time you’re out. if that’s the case, drink it anyways since i went through the trouble of getting it. 
You snort. It’s so like Renjun to write a tactless note like this and not even bother signing off on it. If he’s going to be sweet, he shouldn’t ruin the moment by doing what he always does—opening his mouth (figuratively, in this case). 
But it’s not enough to wipe that big grin off your face, as you carefully fold up the note and put it in your drawer. 
He’s not cute at all.
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ও DAY TWO.
The next day is about as successful as the first one, if not worse.
You had woken up with a game plan. Before you went to meet Renjun, you drafted up a list of campers that matched his ideal type (for the most part, since he was a little too specific). The goal was to narrow it down to a couple names before trying to march in head first, since that went disastrously yesterday. 
Unfortunately, instead of things going smoothly like you had hoped, you find yourself banging your head against a tabletop repeatedly.
You and Renjun are currently sitting in the library of the Athena Cabin, having been there for almost an hour now. He’s nearly eliminated your entire list that you so meticulously curated this morning. You’re starting to wonder if he’s purposefully being difficult just to see you riled up.
Renjun watches you hit your head a couple more times before outstretching his hand, catching your forehead in his palm and blocking you from hitting it against the table again. “Stop before you bleed all over the table, and I get stuck scrubbing it out later.”
You raise your head to glare at him. “I’ll show you bleeding all over the table.”
He doesn’t even blink at your threat, infuriatingly unfazed. “Are you done with your list already?”
“No,” you grumble, “I still have some left.”
“So, if I’m not interested in the rest, does that mean we’re done for the day?” he asks.
“Haha,” you say wryly, “you wish. If you don’t pick one, then I’ll just go through the list myself and pick one that I think is the most compatible with you.”
“Damn it.”
“Okay, what about Hyun Seunghee? She’s an Apollo kid. Super talented and sweet, one of the most adorable people on the planet, and loves art just like you,” you suggest.
“Seunghee is a very sweet girl,” Renjun agrees. “But I don’t think I have the energy to keep up with her. She’s even bubblier and more hyperactive than you, and I can barely manage dealing with you.” 
Sighing, you cross out Seunghee’s name on your list while simultaneously flipping off Renjun with your other hand. “Okay, what about Lee Mijoo? She’s one of my sisters, and honestly, she’s way out of your league but I’ll keep her in the running for now.” 
You figure it’s best to not mention that, despite being way out of his league, Mijoo has expressed some very...explicit interest in Renjun before. It’ll make things awkward if they do end up talking, and you aren’t one to expose your own sister like that.
“Ew, no way, that’s weird,” Renjun says, scrunching up his nose.
“What, why?”
“I don’t want to date anyone related to you. That would make us sort of related too, and the last thing I want is to be your brother.” He spits out the word like it’s a stale piece of gum that he’s been chewing for four hours.
“First of all, slow down, tiger. You would have to marry her for us to be related. This is just a casual thing. No one said anything about marriage. Second of all, that is so mean! Why wouldn’t you want to be in-laws with me?” you demand, offended.
“Don’t most people enter relationships with the intention of spending the rest of their lives with each other?” he asks, skillfully dodging your question. “I won’t date someone if I think we’re just going to breakup down the road.”
There’s a beat of silence as you stare at him with wonder. Your lips curl into a gentle smile, and you can’t hide the adoration in your expression. Renjun truly is all bark and no bite. Who would’ve guessed there’s such a lovely and pure person behind his sharp tongue?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks warily. You swear you can see a little pink dusting the shells of his ears and the tip of his nose.
“It’s just...you’re much more of a hopeless romantic than I initially thought, Huang Renjun,” you say teasingly. 
Now, you can definitely tell he’s embarrassed. He mumbles a “shut up” under his breath, but you can barely hear it.
“Don’t put so much pressure on yourself,” you advise, “it’s totally natural to date and breakup. You can love someone with all of your heart, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be your life partner. Loosen up, my friend, and just have fun! Fall in love recklessly, and don’t think about anything else! That’s what youth is all about!”
You expect him to make fun of you for lecturing him like you’re centuries old, when the both of you can barely label yourselves as adults, but he doesn’t. 
Instead, he’s gazing at you with a deep melancholy in his eyes. You’re sitting right across from him, but the way he looks at you makes it seem like you’re galaxies away. Your gut wrenches at how hurt and helpless he seems, like he’s yearning for something that is out of his reach. 
Time seems to slow down as the two of you stare into each other’s eyes, as if you’re both entranced. It’s hard to tell how long you stay like that, but it feels like you’ve woken up in the middle of a sweet dream when Renjun finally breaks eye contact. You’re slightly disoriented, even though it’s probably only been a few seconds.
Clearing his throat, Renjun mutters, “Anyways, don’t put anymore of your siblings on the list.”
You take a moment to gather your thoughts before sighing. “Fine. But now I’ve run out of names on my list.”
“Well, gosh darn it, what a shame,” he says in a terrible Southern accent while attempting to get up. “Look’s like that’s a wrap for today!” 
“Not so fast,” you cut in, snapping your fingers at him to sit back down. “We’re not done yet.” 
He groans but reluctantly obeys, dramatically throwing his head into his arms when he does.
“Behave while I go through this list again,” you order, putting stars next to names that you’re going to force Renjun to reconsider with. 
“Now, you’re making me want to hit my head against the table,” he complains, voice muffled by his arms.
You ignore his whining, focusing on your current task at hand. Just as you finish narrowing it down to a select few, someone brushes past you and it’s like you hear angels singing. Seo Soojin, daughter of Nemesis and actual hotness personified, walks by. 
Soojin is relatively new to Camp Half-Blood, having arrived for the first time last year. You don’t know much about her personality because she keeps to herself and her tight-knit circle of friends for the most part. You know for a fact that she’s a far cry from Renjun’s type, but you’re starting to think he doesn’t really know what he wants—seeing that he shot down every single person on your list already. She will be a nice change of pace for him.
“What about Soojin?” you ask in a hushed whisper, leaning forward. 
“Who?” Renjun looks around, not lowering his voice or trying to be subtle in the slightest.
“Shhh!” you hiss, grabbing him by his shirt and yanking him forward. You pull a little too hard and end up knocking your foreheads together. 
“Ow! Why is your head made out of cast iron?” Renjun winces. He tries to lean back, but you don’t let him escape. 
“Shut up! You’re the blockhead, asshole,” you protest, getting offended for the second time. “Anyways, Seo Soojin. The girl over there. The one with the bangs, big lips, and is hot as fuck?” 
He squints, finally zeroing in on her. “What about her?”
“That’s what I’m asking you, dipshit!” 
Renjun shrugs noncommittally—an action that you’ve grown extremely accustomed to during these past two days, an action that makes you want to rip your own hair out. “She seems nice.” 
“Well, try and talk to her then,” you say, spelling it out for him. “You know, so you can see if the two of you will hit it off or not.”
He gives you a look. It’s the same look that a twelve-year-old kid gives his mother when she makes him take a picture in front of a national monument that he doesn’t know anything about, nor does he care to. However, she insists, so he reluctantly trudges over to it and takes the picture—hands firmly balled up by his sides and his lips pressed into a hard line, no matter how much his mom tells him to smile.
So, in other words, Renjun looks like he wants to crawl into a hole and die.
“Are you sure that you’re human?” you ask incredulously. You’re not even being sarcastic at this point; you genuinely want to know how he is able to feel absolutely nothing for women that could rival the goddesses themselves.
“Technically—”
“If you say that you’re only half-human because we’re demigods, you’re going to get a pen through the jugular,” you warn, pointing your pen at him. 
“Am I wrong, though?” 
“You know what I mean, you smartass. Are you or are you not capable of feeling romantic attraction towards another person?” you demand.
“I am,” he simply says.
“That’s it? That was the most robotic answer I’ve ever heard in my life!” you exclaim. 
“What else am I supposed to say?” he asks, throwing his arms up. 
“Have you experienced any blackouts recently, like woken up without memory of the past twenty-four hours? Have you checked your body for any chip implants under your skin?” You eye him suspiciously. “Been beamed up by any UFOs? Gone somewhere haunted?” 
Renjun gives you a pointed look, sighing. “While it is touching to know that you do, in fact, listen to me whenever I talk about topics I’m interested in, this is not how I wanted you to apply your knowledge.”
“You know, now that I think about it, you sure talked about alien abductions a lot,” you say, stroking a fake beard on your chin. “Could it be because you were actually abducted by aliens and got brainwashed into gathering information about us demigods, but they took away your ability to feel emotions so they wouldn’t get in the way of your mission?” 
You pause, waiting for his reaction. Renjun is very obviously trying not to smile, with his chin being propped up by his palm and his fingers covering his mouth. “Please, continue.” 
“But ultimately, that will be your fatal flaw and the downfall of your mission because you can’t empathize like humans can,” you finish dramatically. 
“Alright, let’s say I was brainwashed by aliens. Why would I then draw more attention to myself by talking about the very thing that happened to me? Wouldn’t that be counterproductive?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Reverse psychology,” you explain, “you talk about them, so you won’t seem suspicious.” 
Renjun exhales sharply before looking down at his feet. You can see his lips twitching as he tries not to laugh, though you’re pretty sure that exhale from before was a small laugh. You’re grinning, despite the fact that you’re also trying to keep up your detective act.
“I’m kind of wish I had been abducted by aliens right about now. Maybe brainwashed me would be a little more courageous,” he mutters under his breath. You’re not sure if you were meant to hear that, but you do anyways. 
“That sounds exactly like something someone abducted by an alien would say!” you say in an accusatory tone, pointing a finger at him. He rolls his eyes, but a tiny smile eventually makes its way to his lips. 
You gasp loudly, grabbing his face and pulling it towards your own. He makes a small noise of surprise, eyes as wide as UFO saucers. Your faces are so close that your noses are slightly brushing up against one another, but you’re not paying attention to that right now. 
“Or you could be a lizard person,” you whisper, “you know, the ones that people think take the place of government officials.”
“They’re called reptilian humanoids,” Renjun corrects. His breath (which smells like the blueberry muffin he had this morning) rustles your baby hairs. 
“Your eyes are glowing yellow, and your pupils are turning into slits,” you tease.
“Are they, now?” 
No, they aren’t. His eyes are a cool, icy gray, like most Athena children. It’s always been a trait you’ve been jealous of. They sparkle like stars, or freshly fallen snow. They change according to his mood too. For example, when he gets angry, there are no stars. Instead of twinkling, they flash like lightning. His eyes are truly the window to his soul; they’re one of your favorite things about him.
Renjun slightly leans into your touch, and it finally hits you how close he is. You’re cupping his face with both hands, tilting his chin up, and it looks like you’re about to...kiss him.
 It seems you’re not the only one who thinks so, because almost the entire library is gawking at you. Including Seo Soojin. She looks surprised, and slightly disgusted, by the two of you.
Oh.
You feel heat rise from your neck to your entire face.
Oh gods, they all think we’re a couple.
You recoil away from him, withdrawing your hands like your just burned yourself. “We have to get out of here.”
“What?” As always, Renjun doesn’t know what’s going on.
“Just come on,” you say quickly, grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the library. 
Your face burns for a long time after that, and you can no longer focus on anything else. In the end, you decide to call it a day after a few more half-hearted attempts to find more candidates for Renjun. When you come back to your cabin, you take another cold shower. 
You’re not sure what you’re so flustered by: the fact that you didn’t realize what you were doing or the fact that everyone in the library saw it.
Or the fact that you didn’t mind the notion of being mistaken for a couple with Renjun.
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ও DAY THREE.
You don’t meet bright and early with Renjun today. He demanded to sleep in this time, since he’s not an early riser to begin with and the past two days have sucked all the energy out of him. 
Which means you’re free until noon. You check the time—10 AM. 
Two hours to kill. 
You don’t feel like getting all sweaty and hot, so any activity outside is out. You really don’t want to be judged by more Athena kids in the Arts and Crafts Center without Renjun. So, you decide to head back to the library, despite how yesterday went.
You check out a book that goes into depth about some of the most believable conspiracy theories; Renjun actually read it a while ago (and totally geeked out about it to you), but who would have thought that you would end up reading it too? Past you definitely would’ve laughed in your face if you told her that. 
Once you get back to your cabin, you curl up in your covers and begin to read. You get about two chapters in when you hear the door open and Jeong Jaehyun, one of your brothers, walks in. He’s wearing his orange t-shirt that’s soaked with sweat, and his hair is dripping from perspiration too. His pale skin glistens, and he looks like a sweaty and sparkly vampire. 
“Hey, kid,” Jaehyun says, nodding at you. He isn’t that much older than you, but he’s gotten into the habit of calling you kid for some reason.
“This is a surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come back from training before 5 PM,” you tease.
He lets out a low whistle. “Way too hot out there. I needed to get some A/C before I had a heatstroke—is that a book in your hand?”
“What about it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
Jaehyun snorts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you near a book, much less read one.”
“Rude. I am expanding my horizons,” you retort. 
“It seems so. What was up with you and Renjun at the library yesterday?” Jaehyun plops down on the edge of your bed. 
“How do you even know about that?” you ask, wrinkling your nose. “And go take a shower first before you sit on my bed! You stink!” 
“Do I?” He waggles his eyebrows and throws his arms around you in a bear hug. You try your best to shove him off, but he has a hold on your like a python. 
“I hate you,” you say when he finally pulls back, sniffing your shirt to make sure you still smelled like your fabric softener. “Anyways, how’d you find out about the library thing?”
“Rumors spread fast around here, dear sister. But, seriously, what’s the deal?”
“There is no deal, Jaehyun,” you sigh, closing your book. “It’s all just a misunderstanding. We were joking around while I was trying to find a potential girlfriend for him there—which, by the way, is going horribly. I don’t think he feels romantic attraction properly like everybody else.”
“Oh right. I forgot you roped Renjun into your matchmaking thing,” Jaehyun says, disappointed. “Damn, and here I thought he finally made a move.”
Your head snaps up to give him a quizzical look. “What?”
“What?” He tilts his head.
“What did you mean by that, the part where you said you thought Renjun finally made a move?” you ask. 
Jaehyun stares at you for a couple of seconds, an astonished expression on his face. “Do you really not know?” 
“Would I be asking if I didn’t know?” you shoot back, annoyed that he still hasn’t answered you. 
“Gods, all this time, I thought you were just pretending like you didn’t know because you didn’t want to make things awkward,” he continues, shaking his head.
“Jaehyun, what are you talking about?” you demand.
“Renjun is in love with you, Y/N.”
You gape at him. It’s a good thing you’re already sitting down because you definitely would have fallen on your ass if you had been standing.
“Th-Th-That’s impossible,” you stammer, like an absolute idiot. “There’s n-n-no way.”
“Oh, come on, lil’ sis. He’s never even tried to hide it. He’s so obvious about it that I seriously don’t understand how you didn’t know,” Jaehyun snorts. “You don’t even need to have powers to see that he’s head over heels for you.”
“But—but how? I would’ve sensed it!” you exclaim.
“You’re so sharp when it comes to other people, but you’re dense as hell when it comes to yourself,” Jaehyun points out, shrugging. “You just never paid attention, Y/N.”
You don’t respond. Your mind is a mess, a jumbled mishmash of emotions. You’re feeling so many things right now, and you can’t pinpoint any of it.. You wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out.
“Do you like him back?” Jaehyun asks softly. 
“I—no! Of course not. Renjun’s my best friend. If I liked him, why would I be trying to find him a girlfriend right now? That’d be stupid of me. Yeah, that’d be so dumb. Why would I do that?” You’re rambling now, and it’s glaringly obvious that you’re trying to convince yourself rather than Jaehyun (and you know he can see it too).
“It doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard, though.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask defensively. 
“The Y/N I know spends all hours of the day gathering information on her potential matches and making sure even the tiniest detail goes according to her master plan that she’s already drafted inside her head. She wouldn’t be sitting here, leisurely reading a book, especially if it’s going horribly. She would be doing everything in her power to get things back on track,” Jaehyun notes. “Ask yourself. Do you really want Renjun to get a girlfriend?” 
“Wh-Why wouldn’t I?” You ask him, hoping he knows the answer, because you sure as hell don’t know. 
“Because he won’t always be there anymore. He won’t have time to let you constantly drag him into your antics anymore. You won’t be his number one anymore. His girlfriend will be his first priority, of course, as she should. Think long and hard about that, Y/N. Will you be okay with that?”
“I—” The words seem to die inside your throat as you come to realization that you might not be okay with that at all. You’ve always gone to Renjun for everything and knowing that he may not always be there makes you feel lost, like a compass without it’s True North. You’re being selfish again, but it seems like you’ve gotten into the habit of acting selfish whenever it comes to Renjun. You’ve let yourself grow too reliant on him. 
“Why do you care so much anyways?” Now, you’re deflecting. “Why did you tell me all of this?”
“Because you’re my little sister and I care about you. I want you to be one hundred percent sure of your own feelings, so your heart doesn’t get broken. The only reason I didn’t say anything sooner was because I thought you were already sure. Take some time and think about it, Y/N. It’ll be better for your friendship with Renjun if everything is crystal clear between the two of you,” Jaehyun advises, giving you a pat on the shoulder. He gets up, presumably to take a shower, and leaves.
You barely notice him go.
You sit in your bed, staring blankly at the wall, until Renjun finally arrives. He’s still a little groggy, probably having woken up ten minutes ago before coming. His clothes are a little rumpled and his hair isn’t styled, with his bangs flopping in his eyes. Normally, you would have made fun of him and mussed it up, but you have other things on your mind as of the moment. 
Like always, he can tell something is up. He gets that concerned look on his face—the one where he has a deep crease between his brows and his rosy lips are turned downwards. 
“What’s wrong?” He places a hand on your arm, lowering his head so he can’t get a better look at your face. 
Physical contact with Renjun has always been something normal for you, but suddenly, you’re now acutely aware of everything about him. You can feel the pad of every one of his fingertips on your bare skin, the warmth of his palm, and just how easily his touch makes your body relax. Even when your brain is a whirlwind of thoughts, your muscles, like clockwork, instantly loosen up with just a brush of his hand.
“We need to talk,” you say shakily, moving away from him. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes as his hand falls to his side. You feel bad, but the longer he’s touching you, the more confused you get. 
You lead him a secluded area behind the Dining Pavilion, and he follows wordlessly. He waits for you to speak as the two of you stand there. Now that you’re here, you don’t really know what to say anymore. 
“Are you in love with me?” you blurt before you can stop yourself. “Jaehyun said—”
“Yes,” Renjun answers. If he’s surprised or taken aback whatosever, he doesn’t show it. In fact, it seems like he knew this was coming. There’s no fear or hesitation in his eyes. He’s unwavering in his answer, and you wonder how he can always be so certain of his feelings. 
“How long?” you ask tentatively. 
“Probably when we first met,” he says. 
“Why?” 
“Are you asking me why I’m in love with you?” He raises an eyebrow. 
You’re not sure. You’re not sure of anything anymore.
When you don’t answer, Renjun looks at you for a very long time. “You make me happy, Y/N. No matter how shitty things get, no matter how much I want to ram my fist through a wall, I see you and it’s like I can finally take a breath again. When you smile at me, I forget about everything that was bothering me. You and your daily shenanigans are the best part of my day. You’re obnoxious and frustrating and exhausting, but I fucking love you for it. I’m at your beck and call; I’d do anything for you. Whenever you’re happy, I become happy too. Nothing else matters to me anymore. That’s why.”
“You should have told me,” you say, voice cracking. Your heart is singing with joy, and you want to cry with relief. He talks about you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and you so desperately want to be exactly that for him. You’re not confused anymore. Everything has finally become clear for you now. You truly wonder how you managed not to notice anything at all—whether it be your own feelings or his. 
“I knew it would upset you,” he murmurs. 
But then it hits you. 
You can’t even fathom how much Renjun has had to endure throughout the years. He’s loved you all this time, yet he hasn’t said a word—out of consideration for you. In everything he’s ever done during the course of your friendship, he has always put you first. Even if it hurts him, he was willing to withstand it for your sake.
Yet all you’ve done for him is force him into letting you try to find a him a girlfriend, despite the fact that he was against it, and he had to pretend like he was okay as he watched you parade around like a fool telling him to love someone else. 
You don’t deserve to be loved by someone like Huang Renjun.
You don’t deserve to love someone like Huang Renjun.
Suddenly, you begin to feel nauseous—probably sickened by guilt. Black spots dot your vision, and your legs start wobbling. Your body collapses only moments after, but luckily, Renjun manages to catch you before you can hit the pavement. 
“Y/N? Y/N? Hey, talk to me,” you can hear him say very faintly. He’s cradling you against his chest, and you bury your face in it. Your head is spinning, but you feel surprisingly grounded in his arms.
Has he always smelled this nice? His scent is a mixture of books and sandalwood, and you’re basically crushing your nose against his chest like an absolute pervert. You don’t feel embarrassed because you know you can blame it on being sick later. 
Speaking of sick, even though Renjun smells so good, you proceed to lean forward and vomit all over him and yourself.
Once again, you don’t feel that embarrassed because you black out soon after.
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ও DAY FOUR.
You wake up tucked nicely under your covers. Much to your relief, you’re also in clean clothes—your favorite set of heart pajamas. Unfortunately, that’s the only bright side to your current state.
It feels like you haven’t had a sip of water in ten years, and your lips feel like they’ve been glued together. Even the tiniest movement makes your head feel like someone is drilling into your skull. Your body feels twenty times heavier, and not to mention, you just generally feel like shit because of what happened with Renjun.
“Oh my gods, you look so creepy right now. Who just lays there with their eyes wide open? If you’re awake, you should say something,” a voice chides. Turning your head just a smidgen (and wincing because of the pain), you see your sister, Lee Mijoo. She has a glass of water in her hand, setting it on your nightstand.
“How long have I been asleep?” you ask hoarsely. 
“Let’s see. Renjun brought you back at like 2 PM yesterday, and it’s now 8 PM, so...thirty hours?” Mijoo counts on her fingers. 
“Fuck,” you groan.
“Heatstroke will do that to ya,” she says, making a clicking noise with her tongue.
“I had a heatstroke?”
“Yep. It was a pretty nasty one too. You really did a number all over Renjun’s shirt. It was like a vomit Picasso,” Mijoo says, sounding kind of impressed.
Your face burns from humiliation. 
“Here, sit up and drink this water,” she orders, helping you get up. Your head is screaming in pain, like a million little jabs to your brain. You down the water in one big gulp, not realizing just how dehydrated you were until your lips hit the water. 
“So, you and Renjun, huh?” Mijoo asks sheepishly.
If you still had water in your mouth, you would’ve spat it out. “What?”
“Jaehyun told me everything,” she explains.
Traitor, you think to yourself.
“Don’t be mad at him. Renjun looked like a kicked puppy when we saw him. There’s no way I wouldn’t have asked questions,” she says. “Did you break his heart, little sister?”
You sigh, putting the cup back on your nightstand. “I hope not. His heart shouldn’t be broken by someone like me.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means that he shouldn’t concern himself with me,” you sigh.
“Well, he does. He came to check up on you like a billion times. I had to ban him from coming back until tomorrow,” Mijoo snorts. “He’s a really good guy, you know.”
“Trust me,” you say, rubbing your temples. “I know that better than anyone.”
“So, what’s stopping you? I would be all over that.”
You glare at her before letting out another sigh. “He’s too good for me, Mijoo.” 
“That’s for him to decide, no?” She raises an eyebrow.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just saying the truth,” you say. 
“So, you won’t mind if I date him?” she asks seriously.
Your face falls instantly, and Mijoo doubles over laughing. 
“Geez, Y/N, you looked like you were about to claw my eyes out!” She wipes away a tear.
“Very funny,” you say dryly. 
“But what if I had been serious? What would you have done then?”
You don’t answer.
“I think you really, really like Renjun, Y/N,” Mijoo whispers loudly.
“I think I love him,” you whisper back.
“Then, you should probably tell him.”
“Yeah, I should,” you echo.
Ignoring the major migraine you have and the fact that you’re still a little sluggish, you throw your covers off of you. You don’t change out of your pajamas, simply throwing a thin cardigan over it. 
“Uh, Y/N, maybe you should wait until you feel be—”
“No, I have do it now before I change my mind,” you cut her off, slipping on your tennis shoes.
You hear Mijoo call after you, but you’re already out of the door. The Athena Cabin isn’t too far from the Aphrodite Cabin, so the walk is short. Much to your surprise once you’re inside, he isn’t there.
Grabbing the nearest Athena kid you see, you ask, “Where’s Renjun?”
“Um, I think he went to the amphitheater?” 
The amphitheater is a bit further, so you promptly release and thank the kid, before taking off. You’re not sure if running is recommended right after a heatstroke, but you do it anyways. By the time you get there, your cardigan is slipping off and you’re dripping with sweat from the humid summer heat. 
The amphitheater is extremely crowded, since there was probably a performance tonight. It’s actually a little hard to see over all the people. However, you find Renjun pretty quickly.
You see him standing off to the side, away from everyone else. He’s staring emptily at the stage, hands tucked inside his pockets. He looks so tired and dejected. His entire body slumps as if it’s too exhausting to stand up straight anymore. 
All because of you.
You wait until you finally catch your breath, opening your mouth to call out to him. But you don’t ever get the chance to because a girl walks up to him. You can’t tell who she is because the back of her head is facing you, and you see Renjun give her a small smile before saying something.
The girl laughs and turns her head, giving you a view of her side profile.
Hwang Yeji.
All of the courage you had inside you withers away like a dying flower.
You take a step back, accidentally bumping into someone behind you. They say something to you, but you don’t hear it at all. Instead, you turn on your heel and run. You run wildly and blindly, nearly whizzing right past your cabin. You’re barely able get back inside, eyes so blurry with tears that you can’t even see where you’re going. 
When Mijoo sees you, she doesn’t ask any questions. She just turns on the shower for you, extra hot. You step in without a word, letting the water mix with the tears running down your face. 
It’s not that you think Renjun is in love with Yeji now. In fact, you know he’s not. It’s just that they would be much better together. 
Yeji is one of the sweetest girls you know. She would treat Renjun with the kindness he deserves. She would consider his feelings first before making him do anything. She would make him happier than you ever could. They would be so compatible, and if you weren’t in love with Renjun yourself, you would definitely be trying to set the two up. 
After your shower, you change into the clothes Mijoo set out for you—an oversized sweater with cotton shorts—and miserably crawl back in bed. You’re so drained that you don’t even have the energy to drink the fresh glass of water on your nightstand. 
Everything hurt—mentally and physically. 
Your heart aches most of all. You’ve dated here and there, gone through some breakups, but nothing has ever been as painful as this. 
It’s a pain that consumes you whole. A pain that makes you want to scream but no sound will come out. A pain that makes you want to tear your heart out. A pain that makes you wish a bunch of aliens abducted you and brainwashed you into not feeling any emotions anymore.
It’s the same pain that you thought you felt from Renjun on the first day of when this all began.
And then the last puzzle piece finally falls into place.
That pain was never his.
It has always been your own.
You love Renjun too, and you’ve loved him for a very long time.
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ও DAY FIVE. 
“Come on, Y/N. At least get up to wash your face and brush your teeth,” Mijoo pleads.
You ignore her, pulling your covers over your head and turning away. It’s already well into the afternoon, but you’ve been feigning sick so you didn’t have to get up. The rest of the Aphrodite children have left and gone about their various activities throughout the camp, but Mijoo was tasked by Jaehyun to take care of you.
“If you just do that, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day,” she bargains. 
You think about it for a second before sighing, begrudgingly sitting up. You can see the pity dripping out of her eyes when you brush past her to head to the bathroom. When you see yourself in the mirror, you can understand why.
Puffy eyes, matted hair, tear-stained cheeks, and chapped lips. It’s too bad you hadn’t been wearing mascara last night because the only thing you’re missing in your hot mess look right now are those dark smudges right under your eyes.
You brush you teeth, which takes a lot more effort than you realize, and splash water on your face. Not even bothering to brush your hair, you head straight back to bed. True to her word, Mijoo doesn’t say anything else after that.
That is, until a couple hours later.
“Um, so I know I said I would leave you alone, but I think you might want to get up for this one, Y/N,” she whispers. You can’t see her because you back is turned to her, but you can tell by the tone of her voice that it’s important.
Irritated, you yank the covers off you and sit back up once again. “Mijoo, I—”
You almost choke on air when you realize Mijoo isn’t alone. Renjun is right beside her, looking not much better than you. He’s in a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair looks like he just ran his fingers through it and called it a day, and he has purple bags under his eyes.
“Can we talk?” Renjun asks. 
You hesitantly nod. 
“I’ll, uh, give you two some privacy,” Mijoo says awkwardly before turning around and running out of the cabin. 
You don’t know what to do now, staring down at your clasped hands. You hear Renjun take a step forward, and you feel the edge of your bed dip under his weight. There’s a sizable gap between you and where he’s sitting, but he’s still close enough for his scent to waft over to you. He smells wonderful like usual, and you hope you don’t stink in return.
“How are you feeling?” Renjun asks quietly.
“Like shit,” you answer honestly.
He laughs under his breath. “I know what you mean.” 
Your heart skips a beat, and you feel giddy all of a sudden when you see him smile. How did you manage to turn into a lovesick little schoolgirl over night? 
“I talked to Yeji last night at the amphitheater,” Renjun says after a moment. 
“I know,” you mutter. 
He blinks. “You do? How?” 
You’re not sure how to answer that.
“Well, that doesn’t matter right now,” he dismisses, taking in a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you that I ran into her after I checked up on you, and she invited me to watch her performance. I wasn’t going to say yes at first, but I thought it would make you happy if I did. I tried, Y/N, I really tried. Yeji’s a nice girl, but I can’t help how I feel. I love you, Y/N. It’s always been you, and it always will be. I’m not asking you to love me back. I just want to stay by your side, as your friend, if you’ll allow it. I—”
“Stop,” you interrupt, scooting closer to him and putting a hand over his mouth. “I have to tell you something.” 
Renjun gives you a bewildered expression but nods nonetheless. 
You remove your hand from his mouth, before taking in a deep breath of your own. “You’re my best friend, Renjun, and I’ve always confided in you for everything. I took you for granted, and I only thought about myself. Deep down, I think I’ve always known about your feelings and my own, but I was afraid to dig for it. I was comfortable, and I didn’t want to ruin that, even though you were hurting. I’m truly sorry for treating you that way, Renjun. From now on, I want you to tell me everything—the good, the bad, the ugly. Don’t bottle things up for my sake.”
He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop him.
“The reason why I knew you were with Yeji at the amphitheater last night is because I was there too. I went to look for you,” you finally confess. “When I decided I was going to find a girlfriend for you, I thought I would be able to step aside when you did find someone. But once I saw you with Yeji, I realized that I couldn’t do it. What I want with you isn’t a friendship anymore. I’m in love with you, Renjun. I have been for a long time, and it took me four, almost five, years to see that because I never thought to listen to my own heart until now. I don’t think I will ever deserve you in his lifetime, but I love you. I’m selfish and I’m a mess and I always cause trouble for you, but I—”
Renjun wraps an arm around your waist and tugs your body flush against his. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek as his thumb lightly runs across your cheekbone. You’re clutching his shirt like a lifeline, holding your breath, as you stare into those gray eyes.
“You,” he whispers, his lips barely brushing against yours, “are more than I deserve.”
He leans in and closes the infinitesimal gap between your mouths. He kisses you desperately, like you’ll disappear any moment, and you can feel all of the emotions he’s been locking away. His arms are wound tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap. You weave your hands through his hair, and he deepens the kiss. Your shirt rides up as you shift, and you feel his hand slip up your shirt and rest against your back. It ignites a fire within you and you want to tell him to take it off completely, but your lungs are screaming for air, so you have no choice but to pull away.
“Sorry,” Renjun says breathlessly, his chest heaving up and down, as he takes his hand out from under your shirt.
“No, I liked it,” you say, shaking your head and placing your forehead against his. “I just ran out of air.”
“No,” he disagrees, “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. It was supposed to be a sweet kiss, but I lost control.” 
He tugs your shirt back down and gently sets you back down next to him. You can’t help but giggle at how flustered he is. It’s not often that Athena children, especially Huang Renjun, loses control of their emotions like that. 
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he says wryly, rolling his eyes. 
“You know,” you say in a sing-song voice, “I still technically never broke my streak. I found you a girlfriend within five days.”
“Does it really count if you ended up being my girlfriend?” He raises an eyebrow. “Seems a little unprofessional to me.” 
“Don’t be a sore loser,” you taunt.
“You also said you were going to make me fall in love so hard that I’d forget my own name,” he points out. “And I didn’t, so that’s false advertising. Unprofessional and unethical? I could sue you.” 
“You are so petty,” you squint. “And come on! That kiss didn’t make your forget? It made me forget!”
“I don’t like you that much.” He deadpans.
“Huang Renjun, you are so not cute!” 
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4 YEARS AGO.
“It’s not my best work, so you can have it,” Renjun says, trying to act casual about it.
You look so happy that Renjun would have painted a thousand more if you asked him to. You have a smile that could make the goddesses envious, and he can barely hear what you’re saying over the thumping of his own heart. He hopes his expression looks somewhat elusive because he’s not sure how to handle himself right now. 
You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. 
Renjun feels like he’s been shot by Eros’ arrow. He used to never understand why everyone was so wary of Eros; he’s basically just a mascot for corny Valentine’s Day cards. Apollo and his children avoid Eros and his children like the plague. Though granted, Eros did force Apollo to fall in love with Daphne and then she ended up turning into a tree. So, there is a little bit of history there. Point being, Renjun just didn’t get it.
But he think he does now.
“Thank you so much!” you say excitedly, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N!”
Renjun just stupidly stares at you. He’s not even sure if he’s worthy to touch your hand, but he also doesn’t want to be rude. He carefully shakes your hand, unable to say a word.
“What’s your name?” you ask, tilting your head. 
Is it possible for a person to be this adorable? he thinks to himself.
“I’m...” 
You’re looking at him, waiting expectantly.
“I’m...”
You’re still smiling, but he can see the slight confusion in your eyes. He’s never felt like more of a moron in his life. 
“Ren...jun,” he finally says after an extreme amount of concentration. 
You beam at him, and he wonders if he’s the only one seeing the ring of light surrounding you. There’s no way you aren’t Aphrodite’s favorite child.
“Nice to meet you, Renjun! Let’s be friends.” 
Renjun isn’t sure he wants to be just friends, but he finds himself nodding along anyways. 
Fuck, he thinks, I’m in trouble.
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Note
A FMC x Lavinia hurt/comfort fic, where Lavinia comforts FMC or the other way around. I feel really lonely currently.. I'm going through a tough time and I kind of crave some comfort :/ Thank you and sorry for bothering you. Take care :3
Written by @blue-is-the-coolest-color
It felt good to be in the camper again. Between fluffy blankets and surrounded by random books Lavinia has picked up from libraries or bookstores that have interested her. It’s a strange collection, fairy tales and fiction, a few vegetarian cookbooks scattered about the small kitchen area, a few books about animals or fauna. A collection to capture Lavinia’s curiosities of this world.
Speak of the devil. Annisa had to move her arm quickly as the taller woman shifted next to her until she managed to snuggle up close against her, wrapping her arms around Annisa and placing her head on her chest. Annisa rolled her eyes affectionately as she put down the book she had been flipping through in favor of running her hands through Lavinia’s hair.
“You’re very affectionate tonight,” Annisa pointed out, though she really couldn’t blame Lavinia for a bit of clinginess. It had been weeks since they had been able to have a moment alone, but she could tell the ordeal with Rapunzel had caused something short of frustration to play on Lavinia. The girl was distant since she arrived at the camper, deep in thought at moments with her brows furrowed together and lips tight. Annisa had played it off as exhaustion after everything, but now she was a bit more worried as she felt Lavinia cuddle as close as possible.
“Thinking.”
“Ever articulate.”
Annisa teased as she started rubbing circles into Lavinia’s shoulder blades. Soothing the tension that stuck there and causing a soft sound very reminiscent of a purr to leave Lavinia’s lips. The two stayed like that for a moment before Lavinia gently pushed away until she was on her elbows hovering closely. Annisa could see the confusion and frustration in the other woman’s eyes as she waited patiently to see if Lavinia would deflect or if she would say what had been haunting her for the last hour and a half.
“Ranpuzel has killed innocent witches. Simply for being witches, and she wanted to kill me regardless of what it would do to the people of my kingdom. She even threatened the witchling, and yet-” Lavinia’s eyes narrowed slightly in a brief glare as if the reasoning of it pissed her off, “and your friends are really going to let all that go? Even though she’s proud of those she’s slain.”
Annisa listened patiently, not commenting as she felt Lavinia’s arms tense and relaxed with the statements, as if Lavinia was trying to keep from letting the anger consume her more than it has.
“We are not unalike.”
Lavinia admitted reluctantly, as if the statement was acid in her throat.
“We both grew up in less than ideal situations, used or thrown away, isolated, forced to struggle for years. We crawled out of it in different ways, killed people, did horrible things in the name of our own selfish justice or reasoned it in whatever way. We both-”
Lavinia trailed off hard and Annisa had to fight the urge to brush the long silver hair out of her face as it slipped from her shoulders. There’s a pain in Lavinia’s voice, on that Annisa hadn’t heard too often from the other girl before.
“Gothel,” Lavinia tried to articulate what she wanted to say, but it’s choked and Annisa feels her heart break at the sound.
“Lavinia,” Annisa pushed herself up a bit as Lavinia hastily rubbed at her eyes and tried to go back to how she was laying.
“Forget it, it’s nothing.”
“It’s not,” Annisa argued as she let her hands move to Lavinia’s face, trying to get the woman to look at her, “it’s hurting you, so it’s not nothing.”
Lavinia looked away, a bit of shame crossing her face.
“I was once a student of Gothel. There was a time, back when I was young, that I wanted to be strong and feared like her. Because then maybe I could hold on to the things that mattered to me, then maybe-” Lavinia’s eyes darkened and she tried to turn her head as to no look into Annisa’s eyes, but Annisa still saw the tears the threatened to spill over, “I was orphaned when I was very young, I couldn’t use magic, I was alone. Gothel had this power and I wanted her to teach me. She didn’t at first, but decided I was amusing and worth playing with. She’d send me on these ridiculous errands and I’d do an insane amount of magical research to try and convince her I was worth her time.
Then my magic appeared, my ice alignment made itself known and suddenly I was the only student Mother Gothel wanted to teach. She taught me spells she wouldn’t utter to the other witches in her coven. It felt like she had taken me under her wing. I would have done anything for her.”
Annisa listened quietly, horrified by the raw pain that had claimed Lavinia’s throat. She had known Rapunzel was a victim of Gothel, but hearing that Lavinia had also been a target caused her heart to ache for the woman in her arms.
“She told me about how she planned to kill the ice king and needed my help. I was important to this mission and she needed me to follow her orders to the T. I was so excited to help her, to make a real difference and to take down the Tyrant who abused his power and caused the mass slaughter of so many magical beings in the ice kingdom. The king liked to set up his own witch hunts where he’d release a witch he had captured into his private woods to hunt down and kill. Our plan was for me to get captured and to wait for Gothel who would come and stage a breakout. During the panic she would kill the king while I distracted all his guards with a permafrost spell I had read about in a book.
So I did my part, I let the king catch me and I lived in the dungeon underneath the castle. I waited for Gothel to appear. I waited weeks, starving in a dark wet cell. I was so hungry, I hadn’t felt hunger that strong since arriving at the orphanage. Eventually it was my turn to be hunted, and when they let me into those woods I decided I would kill the king myself. So I used an old spell Gothel had me test a while ago and I slaughtered almost all of the king’s men in the forest. And then I killed him and sat on the throne covered in blood and announced that the king had fallen.”
“Gothel had left, abandoned me there, then had the nerve to show up two weeks after my coronation and demand I give her magic in exchange for teaching me. We fought and I threw up the magical barrier around my kingdom using one of her spells for spite.”
“I guess that explains how you don’t age.” Annisa interrupted and then almost hit herself for such a sudden outburst, but Lavinia nodded.
“I don’t age because it’s the same spell Gothel uses to steal magic, only my people can refuse to give me their magic, they offer up their magic to keep the barriers around the kingdom, so I guess in a way I’m not giving them much of a choice.”
Lavinia sighed, balancing herself on one arm for a moment to run a hand through her hair.
“I let all my pain get the better of me, and I hurt more people because I was too afraid of losing my newfound power. I wanted to keep everything out, because that’s how everything could stay safe,” Lavinia shook her head, “I sound like a maniac.”
“Lavinia, it doesn’t matter what you did before, all that matters to me is that you’re trying to do better now,” Annisa flashed the other girl a soft smile, “what Gothel did to you was horrible, and you shouldn’t have had to suffer to feel like you weren’t alone.”
“But I always am, somehow.”
It’s so quiet and heartbreaking to hear Lavinia’s voice like this. Annisa’s smile dropped as she tried to process the hurt, pain, and anger flashing through Lavinia’s icy eyes.
“To have a chance like Rapunzel has been given. To actually be allowed to keep writing my story without having to hurt you more to do so. I’d have to bend over backwards to be given a quarter the chance at redemption that she’s been allowed after everything. Why? Because her story deemed her a hero despite her murders and crimes?”
Maybe weeks ago Annisa would have said something to defend Rapunzel, defend why she should be given chance after chance where Lavinia shouldn’t. Lavinia dropped her head back to her shoulder in frustration.
“...You’re mad because they won’t give you that chance,” Annisa commented as she wrapped her arms around Lavinia’s shoulders, keeping her in place when she felt her start to shift, “I didn’t think you cared so much about what they thought about you.”
“I don’t,” Lavinia grumbled into her shoulder, “but I know it would be easier for you if they trusted me to keep you safe at least. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to sneak around to see me.”
Annisa held the woman tighter, placing a firm kiss to her head as she felt her relax into her arms.
“They’re not all against you. Arin wants to give you a chance, and I could convince Oliver to as well. And you have me.”
“As long as I have you.”
Of course the melting queen would sneak in some sweet nothings while they layed there, Annisa couldn’t say she was surprised by the familiar affection in Lavinia’s voice.
“So you're using me as a pillow here all night? I’m supposed to be home.”
Lavinia smirked, wrapping her arms tighter.
“Stay, please?”
“Oh my,” Annisa pretended to swoon, batting her eyelashes, “did her majesty just say please? To little old me. What a blessing that has bestowed upon my unworthy ears!”
“Brat,” Lavinia laughed, a beautiful light sound that Annisa would kill to hear, “you’re not allowed to leave now, punishment for mouthing off to a queen.”
“You love when I mouth off to you.”
“Maybe.”
The smirk caused Annisa to blush, suggesting a far dirtier joke that Lavinia had opted out of saying.
“I wish I could stay here,” Annisa sighed as she looked up at the ceiling of the cabin, the little snowflake fairy lights making her smile, sinking her fingers into unbelievable soft silver hair as she felt Lavinia tilt to head, eyelashes brushing against Annisa’s neck in soft butterfly kisses, “I love being this close to you.”
Lavinia hummed her agreement as Annisa’s fingers scratched at her scalp and wandered through her hair.
“It’s certainly a treat, watching the Ice Queen melt just for me.”
“You’re the only person worth melting for.”
Annisa hated how her mind immediately flashed to a certain snowman character from a Disney movie. She couldn’t control the way the giggles shook her form. Lavinia propped herself up on her arm, trying to look bored but the soft look in her eyes betrayed her horribly as she watched Annisa laugh at a joke she didn’t understand.
“Remind me that I need you to watch a movie with me.”
Lavinia hummed and let her fingertips trace patterns into Annisa’s arm before bringing her hand up to her lips, pressing a soft kiss that caused Annisa to blush.
“Do you really have to leave now?”
“I guess I can spare five minutes.”
Five turned to an hour, but it wasn’t like Annisa was complaining.
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zazzander · 3 years
Text
Octavian is Commander and a General.
For more about Octavian's character see this post.
A huge issue with how Octavian is written is "show" vs "tell". We are told Octavian is a talker, that he is a schemer, but the evidence in the text indicts he's more than that.
If we look pass the rumours, the slander, and recognise that many of the characters who talk about Octavian have a vested interest in shutting Octavian down - the picture is very different.
What We Are Told
“He won’t really get elected praetor, will he?” Percy asked.
“I wish I could be certain. Octavian has a lot of friends, most of them bought. The rest of the campers are afraid of him.” - Son of Neptune
See the Dining Room breakdown to why that’s not true
Octavian & the Senate
1st Senate Meeting
Reyna scowled. “I hate senate meetings. When Octavian gets talking…”
“You’re a warrior. Octavian is a talker. Put him in front of the senate and suddenly he becomes the powerful one.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“Gee, thanks. I hear Octavian might get elected praetor assuming the camp survives that long.” - Son of Neptune, page 179
Except, Octavian doesn’t really get what he wants. The quest is still on. Frank is still a centurion.
(Admittedly, we don’t know what Octavain wants in this scene. It is perhaps jealousy, since his own quest has been denied for months and it had the potential to be just as helpful).
2nd Senate Meeting
“The camp is safe,” Octavian continued. “I’ll be the first to congratulate our heroes for bringing back the legion’s eagle and so much Imperial gold! Truly we have been blessed with good fortune. But why do more? Why tempt fate?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Percy stood, taking the question as an opening.
Octavian stammered, “I wasn’t -
“- part of the quest,” Percy said. “Yes. I know. And you’re wise to let me explain, since I was.”
Some of the senators snickered. Octavian had no choice but to sit down and try not to look embarrassed. - Page 508, Son of Neptune
Here, once more Octavian fails to sway the senate. So two for two, Octavian isn’t actually that much of a talker nor does he have that much influence. Even in his domain, where he can command an audience. Where he can use his practices speeches.
Hints at Octavian's Military Capabilities
“Hazel tried to avoid eye contact, but she caught Octavian at the head of the First Cohort smirking at her, looking smug in his plumed centurion helmet with a dozen medals pinned to his chest.” - Son of Neptune, page 85
The medals, to me, are actual evidence that Octavian is more than just a “schemer” and a “talker”. Instead, I see Octavian is a commander. A general. And you don’t put your general on the front lines, especially if they are likely to faint from overexertion. But he’s always close enough to the battle to command, to lead, to react to changes and make decisions. That’s more than can be said for Reyna.
Of course, there’s his rank too. Octavian is the senior centurion of the skilled and prestigious Cohort. This is the cohort only the best get into - and they prove they are the best by dominating the wargames. And Camp Jupiter seems like a pretty ableist place all in all. Physical excellence is a requirement. Recall, a lot of demigods have superhuman strength, speed and reaction times. Octavian (arguably) has none of those things. Yet, he’s their commander.
The Battle at the End of Son of Neptune
At the base of the aqueduct, the First and Second Cohorts were trying to encircle Polybotes, but they were taking a pounding. The remaining Earthborn threw barrage after barrage of stone and mud. Karpoi grain spirits - those horrible little piranha Cupids - were rushing through the tall grass abducting campers at random, pulling them away from the line. The giant himself kept shaking basilisks out of his hair. Every time one landed, the Romans panicked and ran. Judging from their corroded shields and smoking plumes on their helmets, they’d already learned about the basilisks’ poison and fire.
Reyna soared above the giant, diving in with her javelin whenever he turned his attention to the ground troops.
So this is arguably really bad leadership on Reyna’s part. She’s their sole commander, yet she’s up in the air as a solo fighter. Meanwhile, her legion had been shattered. The Third, Fourth and Fifth Cohorts, prior to Percy’s return, had been surrounded and had no hope of rescue. That would have cost them a lot of lives.
When the lightning stopped, the First and Second Cohorts were facing one surprised-looking giant and several hundred smoking piles of ash. The enemy’s centre line had been charred to oblivion.
The look on Octavian’s face was priceless. The centurion stared at Percy with shock, then outrage. Then, when his own troops started to cheer, he had no choice except to join their shouting: “Rome! Rome!”
Okay, this moment. Octavian has been fighting against this army for hours despite his anaemia. (Plus the minimum of four days spent in prep). Octavian is the only on the ground commander, but only the First and Second actively chose to work with him and accept his commands. Because he isn’t the praetor. If he had been, Reyna would have been free to fight Polybotes in the air while Octavian continued the ground troops.
It’s reasonable to assume that Octavian has given up on the team coming back at this point as well. Even Hazel thinks they have arrived too late.
Octavian is shocked - probably to see them alive. Then angry. Still, he accepts the cheer. He accepts that with Percy’s arrival they could actually win the fight.
Octavian is actually one of the only named characters in the thick of the battle. Despite not being a warrior, as Reyna says, he’s there - commanding. He’s risking life and limb for his people.
And that's only from Son of Neptune.
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bbygirljuvi · 3 years
Text
Gruvia Week 2021 Day 3 - Discovery
Author’s note: This emotional roller coaster turned out longer than I intended. Hope you enjoy ^^
Summary: It take place several hours after Alodron’s defeat, on the way of Drameel.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Group had stoped over in a small yard inside the forest before continuing their path to Drameel. It was the excuse they gave the army. They were campers which had been attacked by some wild animal on thir campsite. They would head to Drameel right after dressed their wounds. Aldron was just a town’s name they knew. To their surprise, army really bought that.
It was really small yard, just enough to lit a campfire. So everybody was spread around the forest. Less injuried members were gettering up wood and food to prepare dinner while Wendy was running around, healing big injuries with last drop of her magic.
Everybody was tired, injured and confused yet happy. Small victory smiles were visible on every face. Joyful whispers were rising from everywhere. Fairy tail was safe and together again.
Gray leaned on a tree which wasn’t too far away from campsite but private from other sights. He closed his eyes with a big sigh while Juvia went to get health supplies. The nauseous feeling had been crippling inside him since the event with Metro kept getting stronger and he was at his limit at this point. His head was aching, there was a still fresh wound end of the dried blood track, his left shoulder was at least dislocated and without adrenaline rush, he was feeling like fainting.
He opened his eyes with two different footsteps coming to his way. Juvia was carrying dressing matterials while Wendy was carrying a bowl of water. Both of their faces was twisted in worry. Was he looking bad as he felt?
“Gray-san what’s wrong, where did you get hurt ?” Wendy asked in rush. “Just my arm and head, not big deal” he said with a ressuring smile but nobody bought that.
Juvia was sitting in the corner, giving Wendy enough space to do her stuff. It wasn’t easy tho. He looked like a mess. She’d been aware that his condition was getting worse every passing minute as they walk but he wasn’t looking half as bad before she left, had he’s been faking it not to worry her? Her heart twitched with another wave of affection.
Wendy checked his head first and gasped a little. It was worse then she initially thought. “Do you feel dizzy or like vomiting Gray-san?” she asked. He gave a small nod then hissed in pain. That hurted, he thought.
“You’re probably having a concussion, I will heal it right away. You should still rest tho.” she said while using her magic. With that ice mage started to feel alive again. “Shit, I’m feeling awesome Wendy, you are amazing!!”
She mumbled something like thank you with one of her cute blushes on and tend towards his left shoulder, fixed it instantly too. This time Juvia talked “ We are so luck to have you Wendy-san~” she said with a bright smile. The gloom had been radiated from her was long gone. “I’m glad I can help my friends. Juvia-san what about you, Did you get hurt too?”
“No, just some scratches, Juvia is okey.”she said while giving an impish look to Gray. Which led him to blush and turn his head. Wendy didn’t know what was that about but she had a guess. “Is that so, than I’m heading to Erza-san. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need.” And left while ice and water mages were waving goodbye, warning her for not to overuse her magic.
Idiot,idiot,idiot he repeated himself as Wendy’s footsteps faded. She’s my power to live?? What will you do next time, kiss her in the battlefield? You extra little-
His inner scrolling cut short by a wet cloth. Juvia was cleaning his face. “Dressing time” she said, trying so hard not to grin like a cheshire cat. She knew it would scare him if she teased him about it longer than she already did. But remaining calm was hard when all she heard was her beloved’s voice echoing in her head. Juvia was his power to live!!
With that she bit her lower lip in an unsuccessful attempt to stop a smile from forming. Gray rolled his eyes to that but relaxed a bit. Her dramatic reactions were so familiar... Yeah, he had practically confessed but it wasn’t something new. Things wouldn’t changed between them. With that realisation he even smiled when she covered her mouth to muff her slipped out giggles.
“Oh,shut up” he said while rolling his eyes once again. But this time he was chukling too. “Juvia’s mouth is sealed.” She said while switching to his arm, cleaning the area with a bright smile. She had almost finished bandaging his right arm when he stopped her. “Wendy healed me, I should have done dressing to you first.” “Not until Juvia finishes mummifing Gray-sama” she said, pushed him back and continued her job. “Hah, I knew it, you had come out of nowhere to kill me. White mage was just an excuse, wasn’t it?” He said playfully. So he was comfortable enough to joke around again? He usually needed more time for his awkwardness to fade off. Progress, she mentally noted.
“Of course it was.” She put her best yandere impression on: “ She missed her Gray-sama too much while he was away, she come here to make sure he won’t leave her ever again!” Than laughed grisly.
“Okey, that was terrifying. You are terrifying Juvia” he played along. “Oh and you should be terrified, Juvia is dead serious, see?” she said, started wrapping his abdomen faster while touching that soft spot she knew Gray was ticklish more than she had to.
His response was immediate. “Stop, no, Juvia sto-“ his words cut off with a laughter. His eyes began to fill with the effort not to burst out. He was crawling in different shapes to save himself but Juvia was merciless. She cornered him between her body, large tree that he was initially leaning on and ground he was currently laying. And tickled him more aggressively as she finished bandaging his wounds. “I have a reputation damn it, stop.” he said between laughters and hold her wrists together in a, successful this time, attempt to stop her. But instead of trying to tickle him more or accepting her defeat, she hissed in pain.
He got up fast, questioning what was wrong while rolling up her sleeves. When he saw weird, bruis like wounds covering her whole arm, he yelped.
“Juvia!! Why didn’t you say anything?” Juvia was looking pretty surprised too. “Where Juvia had been pinned inside Metro was stinging a bit but she didn’t think it was something important...” Her voice kept getting lower once she saw his angry expression. “Your whole arm and-“ he checked under his long boots “ leg are covered in red bruises and you didn’t think it was important!?” Juvia opened her mouth but Gray was just started. “You never take care of yourself. Can’t I even trust you when you say I’m fine?” He started to unbuttoning her coat aggressively since bruises were going beyond her upper arms. He’s stripping me, she mentally noted and placed it aside for later. It wasn’t the right time, he was really angry.
“And you bandaged me with those arms! Always depriving yourself, UGH” She opened her mouth once again when he paused his silent yelling to search right ointment in first-ait bag. But before she could found an excuse, moment passed. He continued scrolling her while angrily rubbing oinment on her left arm.
“What should I do, do I need to strip you every time after a mission to make sure you are okey-“ he paused once again when his eyes slightly crossed over the scar on her abdomen, the one he couldn’t stand seeing. Oh-uh Juvia thought, knowing this would make him grumpier. And she was right, his grip tightened on her wrist. Continued his speech angrier which was about how reckless she was, how she was not listening her physical needs, how she should get her priorities right...
And at that moment, it hit her... She knew her feelings were not as unrequited as it was before. She had known it before that sweet words from several hours ago, she’s my power to live. She had known it before he had claimed her body by saying it’s his. She had known it before unpleasant encounter with Invel. She even had known it before he had promised an answer to her on starry night.
But at that exact moment, while he was grumbling about how reckless she was and angrily wrapping bandage above her elbow; she realised he may care her more than she dared to assume. And at that exact moment she felt loved, more loved than she felt her entire life.
He stopped when he saw her eyes were shining with tears. His expression softened with guilt. Lightened his grip. “I’m sorry. Did i hurt you?” She shooke her head and hugged him carefully, trying not to ruin his effort by rubbing ointment off.
“Juvia will take care of herself more from now on, she won’t act reckless, promise.” She said with a touched voice. It was obvious she was crying. “Hey, hey what’s wrong?” Gray tried to push her, to saw her face but she tightened her arms and buried her face deeper in his neck. “Nothing, really. Can we stay like this for a while please.” she said. Gray was about to object when he felt her tears in his neck, followed by a smile. That was a genuine smile. Gray had never been good at reading people’s emotions but Juvia was different. He would understand if she faked it.
So he mumbled “What is this for all of a sudden?” but still wrapped his arms around her waist, rested his blushed cheek on her hair. They were out of sight anyway.
They stayed in that position until Mirajane declared it was dinner time.
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lovelylogans · 3 years
Text
and into the nightfall, my love (i keep your heart next to mine)
warnings: lucid dreaming/sharing dreams with other people, mention of night terrors and intrusive thoughts, please let me know if i’ve missed anything!
pairing: virgil/logan
word count: 1,278
notes: this is for day 3 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “nightmares/dreams” and i have decided to write about dreams! title is from “the disease” by angels & airwaves off their album “the dream walker.” please enjoy!
Logan has earned a reputation with his fellow astronomy camp counselors as one early to sleep, late to rise, and with naps snatched in between.
The only person who can compete with him is Remy, which barely counts, as he is very open about his narcolepsy disorder. He jokes about it frequently.
Astronomy camp is slated to have campers with all kinds of sleeping habits. It's a major aspect of the territory—due to the nature of what they all study, even the campers most inclined to be early birds take on some form of nocturnality.
Fortunately for Logan, that's not much of an adjustment. He was already a year deep into his masters degree, and besides that, he had found himself adjusting to get used to Virgil's seemingly random hours of rest for a year and a half before that. Therefore, people could poke fun at him all they liked—it’s not like they really knew what Logan got up to when he seemed to be snoozing in his bunk. 
It has become much easier to pinpoint precisely when he falls asleep since he has become boyfriends with Virgil. Today, as soon as he falls asleep after a long night of teaching teenagers about supernovae, he finds himself in a field.
It’s a familiar field. The grass is much softer than grass in the waking world, with no chance of causing an allergic reaction; there is no need for a picnic blanket or towel, here. 
He knows that if he turns his head and looks toward the horizon, the sky would be streaked with purple and navy in a way that is vaguely reminiscent of a sunset, but it’s against a night sky in a configuration that could not possibly happen in the real world. 
He knows if he turns his head to examine the sky, the stars will be far brighter and far more visible than they were on an average night; it’s as if the stars have been pulled closer to earth, just for them.
He knows if he turns his head, he will see a conglomeration of flowers gleaming like tiny stars fallen to the earth, and fireflies much brighter than could be natural bobbing about, bumping into the glow-in-the-dark bumblebees that are feeding lazily from the star-flowers.
He has no desire to turn his head, though, because Virgil looks away from what looks like a book, except Logan knows that it isn’t, because sleeping brains cannot interpret letters in the same way that waking brains can. Virgil’s seemingly startled by the sudden appearance of Logan lying down with his head in his lap. 
“Hey there, honey.” He cards his fingers through Logan’s hair in greeting, smiling down at him.
“Hello,” Logan says, pleased. “Have you been asleep for long?”
Virgil hums vaguely, in the way he usually does whenever his sleeping schedule does not quite stack up to Logan’s expectations for a healthy sleep schedule.
He supposes that it would be a bit difficult to ask his magical boyfriend whose domain hovers in the land of unconsciousness to maintain a sleeping schedule suited for a perfectly normal person, though.
This field is one of Virgil’s most common locales.  He has others—a house with a bizarre conglomeration of styles in separated into innumerable rooms, a library with shelves arching dizzyingly upward with no end in sight, a lakeside picnic that seems to be on Venus, a restaurant that can serve any food you imagine with various dishes on tables that spiral out, the center of a hedge maze that is home to various living statues—but Logan likes the field. He finds it quite restful.
“How was camp today?” Virgil asks instead, scratching his fingernails through Logan’s scalp, making Logan shiver, and he closes his eyes.
“Good,” he sighs. “I talked about supernovae today.”
“Oh, cool, did you incite an existential panic talking about the death of the universe?”
“No,” Logan denies immediately. Then he thinks about it. He opens his eyes, and admits, “Well, two of them looked somewhat stressed exiting the lecture, so maybe.”
Virgil snorts, setting aside the book—it is a book cover, Logan can tell, but if one looked at where pages would normally be, it is filled with a swirling purple-and-black light that makes him headachey and see double if he looks at it too long. He turns his eyes away. These books somehow imbibe magical beings with knowledge, though Logan isn’t quite sure how. He is not magical, and as such he can’t behold these study materials without effect the way Virgil can. He is only a little bitter about it.
“Ack, sorry,” Virgil says, noticing Logan’s discomfort, and tosses the book into the air. It arcs upwards, and vanishes at the zenith of the throw—no book to come crashing back to earth. He resumes scratching at Logan’s scalp.
“How was your day?” Logan asks, looking up at the sky. The constellations are much more accurate than they were when Logan first entered Virgil’s domain when they started dating—he is always at least a little touched, seeing evidence of the influence he has on Virgil’s life.
Granted, the stars are much larger and brighter to be truly accurate, but. This is a domain where fireflies and bumblebees get along and stars are captured in flowers. Logic and accuracy don’t apply here.
“Eh, fine,” Virgil says. “Someone mixed up me and Roman’s services again.”
It is an understandable mix-up, if an annoying one. Virgil’s domain is in dreams, whereas Roman’s is in daydreams. A minute difference but a very important one—it boils down to Virgil being more powerful at night, and Roman more powerful in the day. Also, due to this dichotomy, their powers are entirely disparate.
“But I got to help them anyway,” he continues. “They’re dealing with night terrors and intrusive thoughts, poor thing.”
“Which tincture did you give them?” He asks, interested.
“If they follow my directions right and actually drank it?” Virgil says. “They should be dreaming about a nice night on the beach. Eating s’mores next to a bonfire, ocean in the background, their friends.”
Logan hums softly. “That does sound nice.”
Virgil shrugs, but he looks quietly pleased with himself. Helping people with night terrors is one of his favorite aspects of his work; Logan knows that the creation of so many domains was a struggle, for him, as Virgil had to wrestle with his own night terrors in order to gain better control.
“Would you like to visit somewhere like that?” Virgil asks.
Logan smiles, reaching up to cup Virgil’s cheek. “You can take me anywhere you like, as long as I’m with you.”
Virgil leans down, pressing his lips to Logan’s, and as Logan closes his eyes, he feels the sensation of Virgil changing their sensations—it’s a bit like being surrounded by rapidly heating, melting ice cream.
There’s the sound of the ocean in the background, and sand that is smooth and will never get entrenched in uncomfortable places, and the warmth and sound of a crackling fire, but Logan does not open his eyes.
Intellectually, he is aware that his body is in its bunk at camp. He knows that he is not actually on a magical beach. But the warmth of Virgil’s hand, the wetness of Virgil’s lips, it all feels so real.
He is kissing his boyfriend, and he and his beloved will never have true cause to miss each other, because so long as he and Virgil are asleep at the same time, they won’t be parted, even if Logan travels halfway across the world. 
A magical beach could not compare to having Virgil. It could not even come close.
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okay-j-hannah · 3 years
Text
That’s My Wife
Harry Potter : Fic
Charlie x Reader
Word Count: 3049
Warnings: SEXY TALK! Charlie is just all over you and your quidditch uniform 😂 Also I know I keep using different gifs for Charlie fics... I just look up ‘hot ginger man’ and pick one I like 🥰
Request: “Hey could I have a story where you are Charlie Weasleys wife and a professional quidditch player? In goblet of fire when they go to the world cup instead of Ireland vs Krum it's your team versus Krum and Charlie is so proud to have Weasley on your uniform and is showing you off to everyone and idk I really just think of Charlie as a very proud guy but humble. Thanks so much!” - Anon
A/N: There’s nothing quite like having your husband be your biggest supporter, especially with the Quidditch World Cup fast approaching
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Shifting beneath the covers, (Y/N) sighed as her brain began to wake up. There were a number of thumps happening outside their bedroom and she groaned.
“Charlie?”
Thankfully, a hand came sneakily around her waist, pulling her to him, “What’s the point of apparating if we don’t even get to sleep in?”
“They’re excited,” (Y/N) replied in a quiet voice, keeping her eyes closed as she turned towards her husband, “And people are a bit careless when they’re tired.”
Footsteps could be heard going down the creaky stairs and (Y/N) peered behind Charlie to see that the moon was still basking their window. It had to have been nearly daybreak for the others to be up and about.
“I’ll have to get ready anyway,” she mumbled, resting back into Charlie’s embrace, “The team wants to do warmups and standard procedure before the majority of the crowds…”
Charlie suddenly held her tighter, silencing her with a grin, “Later, sweetheart – I won’t be able to see you all day. I want to hold you for a little while before you fly off.”
She couldn’t help the giggle that escape her with him cradling her against his chest. Though the World Cup was hours away, she knew her captain wouldn’t let her out of his sight until the game started. With the narrow win England made to be entered into the cup, there was immense pressure to deliver a swift and skillful victory for the team.
Being the rising star of “Quidditch Weekly,” there was a lot on (Y/N)’s shoulders to carry the team. It was that thought that began to swell within her when a sudden shout came from downstairs.
“George! What is that in your pocket?”
Charlie laughed low in his throat, his grisly morning voice doing it justice, “Looks like mum found those joke shop toffees.”
“Nothing!”
“Don’t you lie to me!”
(Y/N) took a deep breath, allowing Charlie’s natural scents relax her; worn leather, old newspaper, rain-soaked grass. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do without him giving her pep talks between penalty shots and time outs.
More than anything she wished he could be on the grounds with the referees instead of up in the stands.
With the anxiety filling her up as it usually did before a big game, she reached for his hand wrapped around her. Lacing their fingers together, she could feel him lean into her neck and plant a kiss behind her ear.
“You’re going to be incredible, sweetheart.”
She sighed into a smile, closing her eyes once more and allowing a few more moments of peace.
“Accio! Accio! Accio!” Came from downstairs, and she laughed out loud that time.
~~~
The sun crept higher and higher as the team lay on the pitch, doing stretches. Their captain Edric Vosper was pacing along the team benches.
“England hasn’t been a part of the Quidditch World Cup since 1981,” he intertwined his fingers in front of him, “And with us scraping that win against Transylvania last month… there’s too much at stake.”
“We know, Vosper,” came the voices of some of (Y/N)’s best friends – the beaters of the team, Dawn and Indira.
“We’ve had this same speech at every practice since that win,” (Y/N) added, smirking and straightening her arm braces, “I’m not sure there’s much else you can say to prepare us.” Her fellow chasers Avery and Keaton snickered behind their hands.
Vosper seemed at a loss of a comeback, finally sitting on one of the benches, “You’re right, of course. I just had a talk with Ludo Bagman and have basically every coin in my account betted for England being the winning team.”
“Why would you do that?” Dawn cried, slumping onto the grassy ground, “I’m worried enough about the game without knowing you’ll be broke if we lose.”
“And will probably have to crash at my place for the rest of the year,” Avery rolled his eyes.
Vosper put his face in his hands and took a deep breath, making the team all refrain from smiling sarcastically. (Y/N) stood and folded her arms, leaning forward slightly to speak.
“I say we take a break before the match starts – go enjoy some time with our families until the whistle blows.”
Keaton flexed his fingers, “Yeah, if I have to practice another quaffle pass I pretty sure my fingertips will snap.”
The team all laughed, evidently trying to make it as lighthearted as possible with the amount of pressure all nestled on their shoulders. (Y/N) secretly believed that a pep talk from all their close friends and family would motivate and improve the teams morale.
But she also knew that if she voiced that much of her opinion, then the players would just tease her about becoming the next great captain for the team. And she was too good of friends with Edric to make him doubt the authority of his position.
“Hey, guys, we’ve been practicing every day for weeks,” Indira stated, pulling a knee to her chest for a stretch. “Maybe enjoying our last meal with our families would relieve some stress.”
“Why are you saying it like we’ve all got death sentences? Our last meal?” Avery laughed, leaning over to push her away playfully.
She shrugged her shoulders, “Way to improve the mood, Hawksworth.”
The rest of the team laughed again, waiting for Vosper to lift his head from his hands. When he did he focused his attention to the opposing team across the quidditch pitch. The brutal Bulgarian team was conducting a number of routines with quaffle passes and snitch spotting.
They donned scarlet robes with black and gold lettering, which reminded (Y/N) of her Gryffindor house back at Hogwarts. It made her frown to see them arrogantly flashing those colors as they sped on their similarly tinted Firebolts.
Peering down at her own uniform, she relished in the bright white and complementary cherry red accents. The proud emblem of golden dragons blazoned the front and brought a fiery desire to beat Bulgaria with every bit of will power she had.
“I think we are over exhausting ourselves,” Vosper concluded, resting his elbows on his knees. “How about this – you all are free to do whatever you please until the match, as long as you deliver the Rowntree Counter.” He stared pointedly at (Y/N), saying, “If we can execute that as perfectly as you did with Transylvania, we’ll have this game in the bag.”
With slight hesitation, she gulped and nodded. She knew there were scouts in the crowd, recruiters that were looking for talent. If she could make a spotlight of their team, they could go far in quidditch history.
It was this thought that dwelled with her as she left the pitch and made her way through the crowds to find the tent grounds the Weasley’s had rented.
She quickly found herself distracted by numerous fans; now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, she could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. She made her way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around.
Many of the campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; a tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami.
“Excuse me, miss,” came a timid voice nearby, “Are you (Y/N) Weasley?”
She turned her shoulder and saw a young girl and boy standing on their tip toes and wringing their hands excitedly.
“Yes, ma’am, that’s me.”
“The chaser for England’s National team?” the boy added on, somewhat disregarding her previous response.
(Y/N) peered down at her uniform and shrugged her shoulders, “I’m pretty sure that’s what my robes say.”
There was a squeal behind her, and then another and another. Whispers, then shouts, began appearing all around her as exclamations said:
“Is that…?”
“Mum! It’s the England chaser!”
“She was on the cover of Quidditch Weekly yesterday.”
“Do you think I could get a signature?”
“Wait… (Y/N) Weasley?”
“I don’t have a quill… would she mind using my body paint?”
And it was twenty minutes before she was able to extract herself from the growing crowd. She had signed robes, arms, books, tents, and English flags with everything from paint to lipstick. There was even a little girl that bought a miniature figurine of (Y/N) that padded along her palm, even laughing the same full body laugh that (Y/N) usually did, which she signed the back of.
She had to apologize to everyone as she pushed through, saying she’d like to get to her family before the day was through. It didn’t stop the stares, gasps, and waves, but she was grateful for not being followed as closely anymore.
A short way farther on, she saw two little witches, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls’ toes to skim the dewy grass. Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents to claim a breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn’t work.
As she neared the other side of the fields, she noticed the colors changing drastically from black and scarlet to white and cherry. This new patch of tents were all covered with thick clusters of dragon themed décor; blue, red, and white flags flew all around the campers. Dragon kites, dragon statues, dragon emblems, dragon puppets, and even dragon hide was covering most other surfaces.
It really showed the loyalty, as well as the increase of more fans trying to get her attention. One began waving a moving poster of herself crossing her arms and smiling broadly. But just beyond she noticed the exact family she was looking for.
“Charlie!”
One of the redheads sitting around the morning fire stood and whipped around to see who was calling for him. When he spotted his beloved, he called out, urging her forward.
The nearer she got, she noticed that it wasn’t just the Weasley’s, Harry, and Hermione – Ludo Bagman and Mr. Barty Crouch were there too.
“I thought you were going to be on the pitch all day!” Charlie cried, reaching her and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until after the game.”
She giggled happily as he lifted her enough that she was on her toes, “We convinced Vosper that we could use a break to gather our senses.” She nuzzled into his shoulder as they continued to hold each other close – that calming smell of rainfall and old, weathered book pages whelmed her again.
Charlie moved a hand to the side of her face where he could direct her attention to his eyes, “God, you’re so beautiful.”
She smiled, her eyes suspicious, “Even in this sweaty updo?”
“What can I say? I can’t resist a woman in uniform.” He gave her a seductive gaze and bit his lip, leaning his forehead against hers.
She moved her hands up his torso and around his neck, sighing deep in her chest, “Not until I knock Bulgaria on their ass.”
Charlie closed his eyes and breathed deeply, “You just got a whole lot sexier.” And he practically growled as he dipped for a kiss, a hungry kiss. The intensity took (Y/N) slightly off guard, accidentally pulling a moan out of her.
“Okay, woah, woah!” came the boisterous voices of Fred and George, “Lock it up, this isn’t your honeymoon.”
They could hear Ginny laughing with Bill, and Percy was muttering things like, “Right in front of Mr. Crouch,” under his breath.
“Now, Charlie,” Mr. Weasley stated in a nervously loud tone, “We’ve got guests.”
(Y/N) had to be the one to pull away, finding her breath was taken away by the moment. Charlie grinned and waved a hand over his shoulder.
“Paparazzi,” she muttered, “We’re surrounded by witnesses.”
“It would be ridiculous to hide my feelings for you, (Y/N). Why shouldn’t the public know we have a perfectly wonderful marriage.” He held her by her shoulders, “I’m proud to have you by my side, so what if the Daily Prophet knows we kiss… guess what? We’re married!”
She couldn’t help but laugh, “Still I’d like to keep a few things… hello!” Behind Charlie’s shoulder she could see the entire Weasley family, and guests, watching them closely.
Charlie twirled around and put an arm around (Y/N), “Mr. Crouch, Ludo – may I introduce my wife, (Y/N) Weasley. THE best chaser that England has known these last few years.”
Ludo Bagman, a jolly man with rosy cheeks and a boyish charm, stood immediately and came to shake hands, “An introduction long overdue I’m sure you feel as well. You know I’ve got a pretty penny on your head to get England the win tonight.”
“Us too,” Fred yelled over the many heads, “So don’t fall off your broom.”
“Oh, you’ve seen nothing until you’ve seen (Y/N) play on the pitch,” Charlie stated, leaning towards the group, “She’s like a snitch herself, whipping through the air.”
“Yes,” agreed Ludo, “The biggest hope England has had in over a decade.”
Charlie beamed, moving his loving gaze to his wife. He simply stood there admiring the praise and talent, silently wondering how it was possible she had chosen him to be her husband.
“Thank you, Mr. Bagman,” (Y/N) replied, “Though you should look at England as the team it is – I’m just one person; it takes all of us to win the cup.”
Charlie grinned even wider if it was possible. Admiration wasn’t enough to describe how in awe he was of her. It was like she was in total denial that she was plainly the one carrying the national team. Though it was incredibly endearing and only made him more in love with the fact that she was with him.
“Oh, please, don’t neglect your talents,” Ludo exclaimed, “We all know you were the one that got the qualification from the Transylvania win!”
“Even with that illegal shot by the bludger,” Ron interjected, sneaking the rest of Hermione’s breakfast sausages, “Those scheming, biased referees.”
Bill clapped his hands together, “This is exactly the problem, if we can’t find the right people to observe the field, then what’s the point of having good players? They’ll be disregarded completely with a biased referee!”
And the family continued the conversation of the prospects of the upcoming game. Percy and Mr. Weasley tried to continue remarks with Mr. Crouch before he left and shortly followed by Bagman.
And all Charlie could do was stare at his wife and wonder… wonder how he got so lucky.
~~~
She could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; Dawn and Avery couldn’t stop grinning.
The roaring voice of Ludo Bagman could be heard magically magnified across the sea of people.
“Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”
The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. A huge blackboard opposite them showed BULGARIA: 0, ENGLAND: 0.
After a presentation of entrancing Veela and a few soaring dragon fireworks, Ludo began to announce the Bulgarian quidditch team members; next came England.
“Presenting – Vosper, Frisby, Choudry, Withey, Flitney, Hawksworth, and Weasley!”
Seven gleaming robed players came whizzing out of the stands on white golden Firebolts. The Weasley family cheered and shook their top box voraciously.  
“That’s her, that’s her!” yelled Charlie, waving his English flag and pushing into Bill and Ron. His brother followed her with his Omnioculars.
“Theeeeeeeey’re OFF!” screamed Bagman. “And it’s Weasley! Hawksworth! Flitney! Dimitrov! Back to Weasley! Hawksworth! Levski! Flitney!”
The speed of the players was incredible – the chasers were throwing the quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Charlie reached over to fight Ron’s Omnioculars off him but failed as he heard the name Weasley again.
The chasers had fallen into their Rowntree Counter, their signature move. They flew into a straight dive as red, white, and blue colors came streaming out of the back of their brooms – signifying the flag of the United Kingdom.
They knocked two of the opposing Bulgarian players teetering on their brooms and distracted the beaters. Flitney passed the quaffle to Hawksworth, who kicked it around before passing it back to Weasley.
(Y/N) did a magnificent overhead kick into the hoop on the far left.
“WEASLEY SCORES!” roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. “Ten zero to England!”
Charlie jumped and waved his arms, screaming himself hoarse, “THAT’S MY WIFE! WEASLEY IS MY WIFE!”
Bill reached over and stuffed his UK flag over Charlie’s face to shut him up, and Ginny laughed, giving him her white and red rosette.
(Y/N) did a lap of honor around the field and threw a kiss towards the top box where Charlie waved his hands toward her, “I love you, baby!”
The England chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another’s minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette now on Charlie’s chest kept squeaking their names: “Flitney – Weasley – Hawksworth!” And within ten minutes, England had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the white-clad supporters.
Charlie watched as (Y/N) performed miraculous moves toward the goal posts. The continuous overhead kicks, the usage of the butt-end of her broom like a beater bat, and the intense throw of her arm was mesmerizing.
Charlie yelled and screamed until his face turned red, shouting his praise for his wife. The other members in the top box had to accept the fact that Charlie wasn’t going to shut up about his incredible player on the field.
It was just a continuous strain of, “THAT’S MY WIFE!” with a splendid look of pride and admiration on his cheery face.
“WEASLEY IS MY WIFE!”
~~~
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chironshorseass · 3 years
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“Just like in Star Wars?” for percabeth? interested to see what you do with that one!
I can’t seem to stop writing pre tlo percabeth. hmm maybe i just have A Thing for the pining.
read on ao3
Annabeth had always liked the arena.
She likes how it’s a place where she can be ruthless with no judgment. She likes the familiar feeling of sand crunching against sneakers, only to find it later on her socks, leaving an orange stain. Likes how the smell of sweat was one of hard work and perseverance. Where she can always let go, not worrying about camp problems or of the world dying, for just a moment.
Only her body and her knife. Skin glistening, straw flying from dummies.
Moving swiftly. Freely.
Sometimes, the arena truly does catch up with her. Like right now.
“Nice one, ‘Beth,” a deep voice calls, clapping one, two, three times.
Percy. Of course.
She didn’t notice that he’d been standing right behind her all this time. Panting hard, she turns to the sound of his voice.
He raises his eyebrows, eyeing the straw littered across the amber sand. “I think the dummies have a true fear for you.”
“I don’t think so. They’re dead by now.”
This is his way of asking for a truce, she knows.
It had been so long since she’d last seen him, until yesterday that is. His death is imminent, his friends count on him, her nightmares are breathed to life by the war...and all he’s done is leave the penalties aside to relax in New York City.
Just yesterday morning, they’d fought about it, like they always do nowadays. It’s only now that he’s trying to make amends, to lay a bandaid against the gaping wound of a prophecy bigger than both of them.
“I mean,” he says, scratching his curls. “They were already dead in the first place, so…”
“Are you challenging me to a duel?”
“When did I say that?”
“Well”—she spreads her arms, showcasing her destruction—“You’re criticizing my work, as though you could do better.”
He snorts, switching Riptide—in pen form—from his left hand to his right. A nervous habit of his. “So what if I am?”
“You’re kinda rusty now,” she says nonchalantly, taking satisfaction in the way his eyes darken like they always do whenever she challenges him. “You know...with all that time spent outside of camp.”
Percy sighs, shoulders slumped. The sight of him like this makes her feel a twinge of sympathy, but only a twinge.
“Look. I already said I’m sorry. I didn’t come here for you to tell me again—”
“It’s fine, Perce. I’m not that mad at you, anymore.”
“‘That mad?’” he repeats, an eyebrow raised. “Really?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, really. I let it all out with the straw dummies, see?”
“And who says that you won’t keep letting it out on me if we—hypothetically—spar?”
“Hmm. No promises.”
“‘Kay.” He shrugs. “I’m used to that, anyway.”
Annabeth could sense it now, his sarcastic wit. Sometimes, it was endearing, but other times...he could damn well use it against her. Like when they fought. Two magnets, polar opposites.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared, Seaweed Brain.”
His green eyes twinkle, the same way the sea reflects the morning rays of the sun. “Why should I be scared? We’re good at fighting.”
Silence.
Good at fighting about what? Good at fighting each other in every possible way.
His expression turns into a wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Whatever. Are you going to uncap Riptide or what?”
“Just like in Star Wars?” he asks, that cheeky grin spreading across his face again. “With the lightsaber thing or whatever?”
“Oh my gods, Percy, you’ve done this before—”
“But I always wanted to say that!”
“You’re so gonna lose.”
“In your dreams, Wise Girl.”
She wants to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. By kissing him or beating him, or maybe both.
And that’s when their dangerous dance begins.
Annabeth is the first to strike, followed by Percy blocking her knife, quicker than a hunting cheetah. Maybe he isn’t as rusty as she thought.
This changes nothing.
There’s a fire burning in his eyes, like lightning flashing by the sea. It’s too distracting, too hypnotizing, but she shakes it off and slashes, again and again. Mercilessly. Violently.
He returns the favor, and it's maddening how easily he can move with his sword, as though it were an extension to his arm, while simultaneously making her heart pound like a giant drum. And not just because of their fast-paced sparring.
“Glad to see,” she pants, “that you’ve been training.”
His sword glints in the fevered sun, and he has the nerve to laugh. “Chiron’s been keeping me busy around here.”
“No matter,” she says, blocking one especially rattling strike that she feels all the way to her bones. She closes the distance between them, partly because of her much smaller blade, and partly because she wants him to meet her eyes. “I’ll kick your ass, anyway.”
“Nice to know...” Another blow. “That you just wanted...to kick my ass.”
She comes at him again. “I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.”
They stay that way, fighting, long enough for some stragglers to keep watch. She hears the hum of demigods talking, probably about them, but she pays it no mind. It’s only her and Percy, celestial bronze clashing. Dust moves along with their feet, twirling around them in clouds.
Annabeth nearly misses his downward strike, too wrapped up in the way his shirt begins to cling to his skin, in the way his muscles flex and unflex to the rhythm of their fight.
She jumps back before she’s cleaved in two.
They're separated enough for her to catch her breath, but she doesn’t miss the smug look on Percy’s face. Even though he too, is huffing and puffing.
She glances up, noticing for the first time that they have an audience. Across the arena, Silena throws her a thumbs up while Clarisse shakes her head.
“Don’t be such a pussy!” she hollers to Annabeth. “Go get him!”
It’s enough to rile her up again. She turns to face Percy. He just grins.
“Getting tired?”
She exhales, blowing away a curl that had stuck to her forehead. “You wish.”
-
Her strike is the one that finally trips him up. Or maybe it’s her leg. But it’s no matter. Because Annabeth manages to disarm Percy, leaving him on his knees.
His face reflects light, like a shimmering pool, beautiful and mesmerizing. But she can’t think of that now. She presses her knife against his neck.
“Guess you beat me after all.”
“Yield,” is all she says.
She shifts her knife, lifting his chin up. The movement is sharp and quick, but there’s something powerful about it, the moment painted before her in a frozen orb. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. Up and down.
She can’t look away, feeling everything and nothing at once.
His green green eyes are ablaze, locked with hers. He’s glowing, she’s sure of it. Her hands shake as she watches a bead of sweat settle across his collarbones, but she steadies her knife before it’s too late.
Strong and powerful. That’s what the campers have to say about him. And she doesn’t disagree with them. But then again...he’d surrendered to her. He’s beautiful this way, she decides.
I just want to be on good terms with you, he seems to say.
But the moment is gone as quickly as it began.
She finally hears the wolf whistling, the catcalls. Sighing, Annabeth lowers her knife and extends a hand. He accepts it, standing up way too close for her liking. From here, she can make out the smell of sweat coming off of him.
“Well played, Percy.”
He nods, that troublemaker smile tugging at his lips. Her stomach tumbles, not knowing what to make of it after what had happened.
His expression transforms into something else, though. It becomes one of those easy smiles that he shares with few people, where you get to glimpse a piece of his heart, just for a few seconds.
“Uh...it was nice doing this with you,” he says.
“You mean nearly killing each other?”
“You could say that. Or…” he looks down, then glances at her briefly, nervously. “Or just doing things with you. You make sparring all the more interesting.”
She shoves his shoulder lightly, and he laughs, breaking the tension.
“I’m glad I can be interesting to you.”
His eyes soften. “You’re more than that.”
She nods. Some things never change,
“Well, then...maybe think about training with me instead of Chiron. You know, since we’re so good at fighting.”
“Will do.”
“...See you tomorrow, then,” she says.
And before she can glimpse the look on his face, she vanishes into the crowd of onlookers.
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tmntgirlie · 4 years
Text
TMNT x Reader
Prompt: It seems that a brother of your S/O has a bone to pick with you
Leonardo’s S/O
You had been dating the Fearless leader for a few months now
As every relationship, you had your ups and downs with Leo, but it generally was a very smooth relationship
You found yourself taking after some of his mannerisms
It took a turn when you began treating his brothers not only like your brothers, but how Leonardo treated them as well
You were a little bossy
Leonardo found it endearing that you mimicked him in that way, but you saw how Donatello now looked at you
He started to ignore you when you walked into the room
It made you uneasy
You didn’t realize how when you talked to them, your tone started to change
When Mikey started calling you ‘Miss Mini Leonardo’, you got the hint
You had been taking it too far
You finally approached Donatello
He refused to look at you
“Look, I know you don’t like me. The least you can do is acknowledge that I exist”
Donnie was not having it
“You fail to realize how you’ve been treating us. You may be dating our brother, but you aren’t him. We don’t need another leader in the family”
His words stunned you
Sure, Mikey had called you a mini Leo, but it finally stuck
You sighed
“I’ve been getting ahead of myself”
“It’s normal to mimic your significant other’s mannerisms, but that doesn’t mean you treat us like he treats us when we’re on duty. Treat us like family. I’m sure Leo feels the same way”
You took his words to heart
In the coming weeks, you caught yourself sounding bossy in front of them
It happened a lot
It didn’t sound right for you to bark orders at them
You caught yourself mid-sentence sometimes, took a deep breath, and changed your tone
Even Leonardo noticed, giving you small glances and smiles as he saw you disciplining yourself
One day, Donatello approached you
“Thank you for listening to me”
All you wanted was for them to like you as much as Leo did
Well, maybe not that much
Raphael’s S/O
Dating Raphael was like a dream
He doted on you, was so affectionate, he truly treated you like his Queen
Well, in isolation at least
Outside of the bedroom, he was mainly possessive of you, wouldn’t let you out of his sight
You noticed Mikey look at the two of you often
He never smiled when he did
You just figured he was jealous, wanted somebody for himself
One day, you finally asked Raph what Mikey’s deal was
He never talked to you
“He thinks you’re taking me away from him”
You take Raph away from Mikey?
You didn’t quite know what to say
After all, Mikey had spent all of his years with Raph
They grew up together, for Gods’ sake
You’ve only been in their lives for a couple months, tops
When you approached Mikey, he tried to act nonchalant about it
“What? I’m not looking at you guys or anything”
Lying through his teeth
But you were stubborn, and you didn’t back down
He finally admitted it
“I like you alright, Y/N, but I feel like you’re changing Raph”
“I’m changing him?”
“He never just wants to play videogames with me anymore or go boarding. He just wants to spend time with you”
As he continued to speak, you could sense something different in his voice
Mikey was scared he’d never have his brother again
Did you really change Raphael that much?
You didn’t know what to say to him, so you just nodded and ran back to Raph’s room
It was basically your room as well now
When you explained to him what Mikey said, you had to hold him back from charging out to talk to Mikey
“Don’t make it worse, please”
“Baby, he thinks you’re changing me. Does he really think you have that much power over me?”
You gave him a look
Yeah, you did have that kind of power over him
Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing
He sighed
“You’re right. Whatever. I guess I have been spending more time with you than with my brothers recently”
That started a conversation on what you and him could do differently
You had basically moved in at that point, so there wasn’t a time where you weren’t glued to his side
You both decided that he needed to detach himself a little from you to spend more time with his brothers
They were his brothers, after all
You respected the fact that in reality, you were just a girlfriend
They were brothers for life
Plus, there were some things you could do for him that his brothers absolutely couldn’t
Donatello’s S/O
Not a day went by that Donatello didn’t pull you into his lab to show you something new he had made
Sure, most of the things weren’t completely groundbreaking, but he usually made them for you
And you absolutely loved them
Oh, the thought that went into these things that he made for you
One day while Don was showing you this new feature he added on your phone, Leo stormed in
He was not a happy camper
He began questioning why Donnie was wasting his time making things for you when he could be doing so much more for his brothers
They had needs for new things, too
Leonardo was used to Donnie reporting everything to him, making things at his request
Now, he was constantly either with you or making something he thought you’d like
Donatello instantly got defensive, saying that everything he made for you, he made some other version for his brothers
He wasn’t picking favorites
But Leonardo was not having it
No, in his mind, brothers needed to come first
Brothers needed the most up-to-date tech and gear for the benefit of the family and New York City’s safety
Yeah, he went there
Brought up the whole safety of the city thing
You didn’t have a single word to say
You had never asked Donnie to make something only for you and not his brothers
Donnie was right- when he made something for you, he made stuff for his brothers as well
Now, we won’t get into the quality of the items
He did sometimes give you the best version over his brothers
That was Leonardo’s problem
The conversation ended with you leaving in tears
Leonardo and Donatello remaining in the lab, death glares flying all over the place
“I’ll create what I please. You may be our leader, but you’re my brother first. Respect my priorities. Just because I love her doesn’t mean I love any of you less”
He had never admitted out loud that he loved you before
Now Leonardo was at a loss for words
He had no idea you guys were in love
In his brain, he somehow thought… Something else
He really thought that you were somehow taking advantage of Donatello and his knack for tech and science
As Donatello continued, Leo caught that that was not the case
You finally came out of your room, eyes still a bit pink and puffy from crying
You really did not like yelling
Leonardo found you and started showering you in apologies
Man, could that turtle apologize
Better than YouTubers really
You accepted his apology, but sternly stated that his tone from earlier was not welcome in your ears
Leonardo nodded
“I think Don is looking for you. Don’t distract him too much”
It was a joke spoken too soon, but you let it go
You knew Donnie could make it better
Michelangelo’s S/O
Dating Michelangelo was like a nonstop party
He was always up for anything you wanted to do
A Marvel movie marathon?
Hell yeah
Playing Mario Kart until you could barely see straight?
Obviously
In the mood to be smothered in love and affection?
Mikey was your guy
You couldn’t think of a time in your life when you felt happier
Every day with Mikey was your new favorite day
A couple weeks into your relationship with the youngest turtle, you noticed one of his brothers scoff when you suggested a new activity for the two of you to try
You tried not to let it get to you, but as the weeks went on, it happened more often
Raphael, it seemed, had a bone to pick with you
At first, you thought it was the fact that you kept Mikey busy playing games with you or trying new recipes
When you offered Raphael a controller to play along, he always said no
Maybe it was just you, but it seemed like Raph flat out didn’t like you
Now, you weren’t the most confrontational person
But this was the best relationship you’d ever had, and damn it, nobody was going to ruin it for you
One day you had offered Raph the controller to play along with you and Mikey
When he said no, as expected, you huffed
“What is your problem with me?”
That was not the right thing to say
Oh, not at all
Raphael absolutely exploded on you
Rambling on about how you were a huge distraction for Mikey, how he was less motivated to train, all he ever wanted to do was spend time with you
Wasting his time with you
You could feel something in the pit of your stomach
You swore you weren’t going to cry
You were surprised when Mikey stood up for you instantly
“What are you talking about, bro? Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Why can’t you just let me be happy for once?”
Raph didn’t say anything
“Our whole lives has been training, staying secluded, staying in the sewers with nobody to talk to but ourselves. Fuck me since now I finally found someone that not only accepts me, but wants to spend time with me and loves me for me”
You hadn’t yet said that you loved him yet, but it was pretty obvious
“Be happy that I found someone to put up with me, bro”
Mikey pulled you closer to him, eyeing his brother in a way you didn’t think was possible for the youngest turtle
Was this his defensive side?
Oh, you liked that
Raphael clicked his tongue
“I guess. Good for you, Mike, finding someone to put up with you that also beats you in Mario Kart”
Mikey scoffed
“She’s just that good. She’d beat you, too!”
Raphael wasn’t having that
He snatched the third player controller and gestured at you to start the race
It definitely took you by surprise, but it really shouldn’t have
These guys were passionate, they were all each other had
You hoped Raphael wouldn’t hold your relationship with his brother against you any longer
282 notes · View notes
bipercabeth · 4 years
Text
percabeth | hurt/comfort | 3k | commissioned by @mericatblackwood 
a post-TLO fic in which we finally Let Percy Cry
Annabeth doesn’t know what to do with anger—her own or others’. She can take her problems to the sword fighting arena or bury her nose in blueprints for weeks, but she’ll still come away with a tight jaw. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands when they aren’t clenched into fists. 
So when the tendons in Percy’s hands strain around his silverware at dinner, when his eyes are downcast and he’s closed off in that I’m-angry-but-trying-desperately-not-to-look-it way, Annabeth can only fumble over a painfully casual attempt at conversation and watch as he retreats to his cabin. He doesn’t even make an appearance at the campfire. The flames have been low in the weeks following the Battle of Manhattan, but they’re rising tonight. 
The problem isn’t reading Percy; it never has been. Annabeth knows what’s hurting him and why. It’s the fixing part she struggles with.
continue on AO3 
or 
He’s been angry for the better part of a year, often because of the ambiguous impending doom of his sixteenth birthday, but not exclusively so. Annabeth caused more than her fair share of his anger, she knows. Rachel had been there to provide an escape in her place, but Annabeth supposes part of being Percy’s girlfriend means that it’s her who gets to provide solace now. Not that she didn’t before, but. There’s a deeper commitment now. He was always her person—as she was his—but it’s out in the open. She’s the first line of defense—she wants to be the first line of defense from danger, be it physical or emotional. 
So Annabeth dons her Yankees cap and sneaks to Cabin 3, replaying the conversation where Percy shrugged and said he’s fine when she tried to call him out. He isn’t fine. She knows that much. 
That doesn’t mean she expects to find him curled in on himself, bedsheets tangled around his middle. It shouldn’t be possible to look small in a twin bed, but he looks so small—not at all like the hero the other campers celebrate over the campfire. It’s a stark reminder that he’s only sixteen. 
He lifts his head when the door opens, his eyes wide. Annabeth remembers that she’s invisible and knocks her cap off her head. She’ll pick it up later. Right now Percy’s breath stutters at the sight of her, his eyes shining like open wounds. 
Annabeth can do dry anger: the cold, unfeeling rage that motivates, propels, inspires. But wet anger—the paralyzing, painful kind you cannot power through—leaves her scrambling for purchase. Annabeth is a runner. She doesn’t sit in anything. 
The sheets rustle as Percy closes his eyes and takes refuge in his bed like a dog hiding his wounded paw. Despite his efforts, he cannot disguise his limp.
“Please don’t hide from us,” Annabeth pleads. 
“I’m not hiding from you,” he says mildly, not lifting his head from the pillow. “I can’t hide from you.” 
“But you came here.” 
“I knew you would come.” Percy shrugs, casually stating as fact something Annabeth didn’t know herself until a few minutes ago. 
In this moment, Annabeth envies Percy’s connection with Grover. She would kill to have a way to funnel her emotions into Percy’s brain in a way he could understand. All the love and concern she can’t articulate could exist in the world without the struggle of finding the right words. 
Still, Percy specified her. Grover is out there at the campfire, probably sensing Percy’s pain like a twinge at the base of his neck, but Annabeth is the one Percy can’t hide from. 
The thought propels her to the edge of his bed, sitting in the curve of mattress his torso folds around. His knees press into her right thigh as he shifts to close the space between them. Annabeth realizes with a jolt that he left this space for her to occupy. 
On her other side is his face, youthful and soft in the moonlight streaming through the window. Blue light for a blue boy, swimming in blue sheets that should shelter him instead of giving him something to fist his hands in. His arms cage his chest as if his heart is trying to escape it. 
Annabeth reaches for his hand, drawing it to rest between hers. If his heart is a burden, it’s not one he has to bear alone. They held the weight of the sky once. They can handle this. 
For all their shared burdens, the one that weighs on Percy now is uniquely his. Annabeth is a hero, but not the hero. Shouldering “child of Athena’s final stand” for a few weeks is not the same as “hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap” looming overhead for four years. Percy’s very existence has been dissected and politicized since the moment he was claimed, whereas Annabeth could’ve chosen a quieter, quest-free life if that’s what she wanted. She chose to pick it up. Percy’s choice was to stand under a weight that would otherwise crush him. 
It occurs to Annabeth that everyone who has shouldered this burden before him is dead. The heroes whose birth was prophesied, whose death was prophesied, died fighting their battles centuries ago. There are no words for that. 
Words are Percy’s strong suit, anyway. He has always known what to say to calm his friends down. Annabeth can’t recall the last time she saw someone do the same for him. 
She squeezes his hand and focuses on being here, where it matters. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, knowing he doesn’t. Or rather, knowing he doesn’t want her to have to talk about it. 
As expected, Percy burrows deeper into the bed. Half his face is squished in his pillow; the sole eye Annabeth can see fixes on the empty space in front of him. He gives her a noncommittal shrug she doesn’t buy. But at least he won’t lie outright. 
Silence follows. It nips at Annabeth’s ankles, nagging her to move, to do something, but she decides to sit with the discomfort. The confession he’s suppressing is a palpable thing: Annabeth watches it stutter in his lungs and claw its way up his windpipe. Percy will tell her when he’s ready, and she’ll be here when he is.
“I’ve been having dreams,” he says, still not meeting Annabeth’s eye. That’s okay, though. He’s getting the words out. That’s what matters, right?
“What kind of dreams?” 
Percy grimaces. “Not the useful kind. Nightmares, mostly. About the war.” He doesn’t breathe between the sentences, just grits his teeth. 
“It’s over, Percy. The war is over. We can rest now,” she tries. 
“They can’t.”
Dread settles over Annabeth, but she asks anyway. “Who can’t?” 
“Beckendorf,” he chokes, his hand tightening in hers. “Silena, Castor, Lee, Michael—I killed him, Annabeth. I told the others where to go, and they died because of me, but I killed Michael.” 
Annabeth opens her mouth to interrupt, but the names keep coming. Percy steamrolls through the tears, leaving her to watch his anger limp along until it collapses into the worn bed of sadness.
“Ethan shouldn’t have been on Olympus. I should’ve hit him harder, then he might have stayed down. And Zoe—I knew she was going to die. We found out who her dad was, and I knew and I couldn’t do anything. And Bianca wasn’t supposed to stop the automation. It was supposed to be me. She could’ve come home to Nico, and maybe then—” 
“Percy…” 
He shrinks with each word, looking every inch the child Annabeth found on Half-Blood Hill: bruised, tired, and crying for his mother. “My mom died because of me. I didn’t even save her—I saved the world, because that’s what I had to do. Hades let her go, but she still died.” 
Annabeth gapes at him uselessly. To love Percy is to know intimately the amount of guilt and unearned blame he assigns himself, but that doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. 
“You saved your mom,” she reminds him. “You saved her and the world. You shouldn’t have had to do either, but you did.” 
“But I didn’t save the others.” 
“No one could’ve.” 
“I should’ve. When you fight the way I can, the people who die around you die because you can’t get to them fast enough. If I had just been faster, I...” He takes a shuddering breath. “Why do I get to survive when they don’t?” 
A lifetime of war games and war alike, and that question is the worst thing Annabeth has ever heard. Percy is just laying there, still not meeting her eye, and she doesn’t know how to help him. 
Terrified of how he’ll answer that question, Annabeth leans down to kiss him before he can. She tries to pour everything into it despite not having too much experience. Kissing Percy so far has been fun, sweet, and definitely trial and error. Nothing this desperate, this needy. She inhales him like she can steal the painful words from his lungs before he says them. 
Annabeth tastes tears and pulls back, terrified that she’s done something wrong. Instead, Percy’s hand catches the back of her neck, keeping her close enough for their foreheads to touch. It’s there, inches away from his trembling lips, that Annabeth finds the words.
“You saved me,” she pants. “From the Furies on the bus, at the Lotus hotel, when Polyphemus knocked me out—” her fingers travel to his grey streak— “when we held up the sky, at Mount St. Helens, on Olympus… Too many times to count. From the first day we met, you gave me hope.” She strokes his cheek and wipes away the tears, feeling her own eyes well up. “Every day. You save me every day.” 
Percy clings to her hand on his cheek and releases a deep breath, fully exhaling for the first time all night. “You save me just as often.”
“So let me do it now, yeah?” 
Percy looks at her, green eyes wet and wide, and nods carefully. Annabeth sighs her relief against his forehead before pressing her lips there with an aching softness. There is more to say, but she takes a moment to just hold him. The Fates deemed her his anchor to mortality, so anchor him she will. 
“You survived because you were saddled with the weight of the world at twelve years old and the gods owe you a fucking break.” She looks at the ceiling, almost daring thunder to rumble. The sky stays silent. “More campers are alive than dead after a war with impossible odds, Percy. You saved so many, but you can’t save everyone. None of them would want you to blame yourself for this. We have to honor their sacrifice—and, in some cases, their choice.” 
That breaks him. The last of his anger gives way to painful sobs, the ugly kind that squeeze your lungs like a spasming fist. In this moment, he is not the wounded dog, but rather the limp itself: the awkward cadence of his breath reminiscent of limbs struggling to hold new weight. 
“What do you need?” she asks. “What can I do?” 
The mattress jostles as Percy scoots closer, freeing up part of the bed. “Could you stay here with me? Wake me up if it gets bad? If you have to go back to your cabin, that’s fine—” 
He’s cut off by Annabeth kicking off her shoes and crawling into bed behind him. There isn’t much room on the twin mattress, but she tucks her knees into the backs of his and wraps around him, and they fit well enough. She settles quickly to avoid overthinking, glad for the excuse to be close to him. 
This is entirely unfamiliar territory, as Annabeth discovers when she tries to figure out what to do with her hands. She’s never spooned someone before. 
Percy senses her hesitation and laces their fingers, pulling her arm around his torso. Annabeth squeezes him tight, like maybe lining up their hearts will calm the frantic beat of his. Between that and her body protecting his Achilles spot, she’s got him. 
It’s a little awkward, the silence that follows. They haven’t exactly had pillowtalk before, let alone while calming Percy during a breakdown. Annabeth doesn’t know how to hold him to make all that go away, so she clings to him as tight as she can. 
“You’re like a boa constrictor,” he chuckles. It’s a wet, half-hearted laugh that tells Annabeth he still has more to say. He’s at his worst when he’s deflecting. 
Still, she moves to loosen up. “Sorry.” 
 He tugs at her hand. “No! I mean, it’s nice. I feel… safe.” He pauses, his breath deep. “I always feel safe with you.” 
Annabeth hasn’t kissed much of him apart from his lips, but she liked the comfort of kissing his forehead. She tightens her grip again and presses her lips to his shoulder, just because she can. 
“Sometimes they’re about you,” Percy whispers. 
Annabeth lays her cheek on his shoulder, trying to see his face. “What?”
“The nightmares. Sometimes they’re about losing you.” 
“Percy, look at me.”
The tension falls from his spine as he flips around, tangling further in the mess of sheets. Annabeth smooths everything out for him before laying on her back and tugging him close. He ends up halfway on top of her: his arm around her waist, her hands in his hair, their legs a tangled mess. 
She holds his face, thumbs swiping at his cheeks gently. He may be invulnerable, but he’s a fragile thing. Maybe even more so with the invulnerability. 
“Tell me about them.” 
“What? No. Annabeth, I’m not— I can’t talk about you d— about losing you. I can’t say those words.” 
Annabeth just holds his face and his gaze. “You should. Talk about it here, safe, with me, and maybe it won’t be so bad when you fall asleep. I’ll be here the whole time.” 
The tension in Percy’s body is palpable as he resists Annabeth’s coaxing. But slowly, she slips her hands to his scalp and massages him there, leeching the stress from his body as he sinks forward into her. His weight presses Annabeth into the mattress. It’s comforting, having him above her. She can feel every breath he takes, every time his heart beats in his chest. 
“We’ve almost died a ton of times, but that was always together.” He swallows, and his Adam’s apple bobs against her collarbone. “But then on the bridge with Ethan, when you took the knife…” 
Percy takes a shuddering breath. 
“Sometimes we get you to the hotel and Will can’t help. Or I can’t find Will. Or Blackjack can’t grab you. Or—” his grip tightens around her, and his tears fall on her skin. “Sometimes you, you die right there at my feet. You jump a second earlier, and Ethan hits you in the chest, and I kill him for it. I kill everyone on the bridge. Most times it’s an accident, just the river listening to me, but sometimes… sometimes I don’t know. Both scare me.” 
One of Annabeth’s hands moves to his Achilles spot of its own accord. Percy gasps into her neck, where some tears fall as well. He’d fought his way through his confession, coming from somewhere so deep inside him that the deluge of tears was unavoidable. She hopes to distract him from them now.
“You saved me on that bridge,” she reminds him, her free hand scratching lightly at the base of his neck. 
“But what if I didn’t?” he breathes. He sounds so small. 
“Doesn’t matter. You did. Anything else is a hypothetical.” 
“But in the future—”
“Uh uh.” Annabeth’s chin taps Percy’s temple as she shakes her head. “It’s like strategy. You can think and think and think and plan your whole life out, but it’s not real. You never know what’s going to happen until your feet hit the floor. Are your feet on the floor?” 
“No,” he grumbles.
“No,” she echoes. “You’re in bed. You get to rest now.” 
Percy is still for countless heartbeats. Right when Annabeth thinks he might’ve fallen asleep, he props himself up on one elbow to look at her. Even in the lowlight, Annabeth can make out his puffy eyes and wet cheeks. 
“You know you’re my best friend, right?” He sniffles, his nose wrinkling adorably as he does, and his eyes bore into Annabeth’s. “You’re my girlfriend too, but you’re my best friend first. Always.” 
Annabeth hears that statement for what it is and grins despite the tears prickling in her own eyes. “And you’re mine. Always.” 
A smile breaks out on his face like dawn at this late hour, brightening up the small space between them. Exhaustion sets in to close it, drawing Percy to settle back into Annabeth’s neck with the slow pull of gravity. 
They drift off in a bed made to be slept in alone as they share a burden made for one person. Newness tinges the corners of this memory, this moment Annabeth finds herself missing before it’s gone: Percy asleep above her, finally getting the peaceful rest he deserves. Part of Annabeth wants to stay up all night to make sure he gets the most of it, to watch his back as she promised to do, but her eyelids are heavy with sleep in no time. 
What sticks with Annabeth is this: Percy’s breath slow and steady against her neck, his heartbeat reliable as ever as it syncs with her own. The world is warm and safe despite all the evidence to the contrary, and that’s what makes this moment untouchable. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, here they are. Together in every way that matters. 
426 notes · View notes
wallstoothin · 3 years
Text
Revolution (P5/PJO)
A warm up fic that I'm too nervous to put on A03. Unedited.
At age sixteen, Akira never expected to be part of a war. But then again, life as a demigod is anything but normal to begin with. He’s not even...he’s not even anything in the eyes of the gods but for some reason he was the child of the prophecy, whatever that meant. Akira always considered it a death sentence in waiting. Aren’t prophecies once in a lifetime opportunities?
Since the age of eleven, Akira has been forced to go on all sorts of different quests ranging from petty things such as being an over glorified uber eats for a god or something like preventing a war between two different monsters. Now it was a war.
A war that could be easily prevented if the gods or even some of the camp managers and leaders just opened their eyes and look. Akira would know. He was the son of a minor goddess after all, a mother who never bothered to claim him and a camp that force him into a cramped cabin of a god who is “so kind and merciful to let someone like him inside.”
Children of minor gods are usually one that can live in the outside world without major trouble. Apparently their scent is thinner and are less appealing than children of major goddesses such as his bunkmate Ryuji, child of Hermes and sweet Ann from Aprohidites. They are his best friend and he does not envy them at all. Both Ryuji and Ann has been through s much trouble because of their parent lineage. Left alone to single parents and their own human trouble combined with their demigods' trouble. He would do anything for them. Still, it would be nice to have someone to call as family. The only reason Akira even found out about his parentage is because of Goro.
Goro.
Goro had high expectation placed under him. As the son of Zeus it was expected. But he was never chosen to be in any important quest and spend most of his time training or in his cabin. Goro was one of the first people Akira met when he first came to camp. According to gossip, Goro has been in camp since the age of seven after his mother killed himself, overpressed by the idea of raising a child of god and especially after how lord Zeus practically left the two on their own. Goro was a loner on the outside and very bitter on the inside. When Akira got his first quest a month later, Goro practically ignored him. It was heartbreaking for the eleven year old for his new friend or at least someone he consider his friend to suddenly hate him.
He really wanted to go to the outside world with him but instead went with Ryuji and Ann. When he came back, bruised and bloodied, filled with new fears and deep hatred for salt water. He hoped his time away would have let his friend cool down enough for them to talk again but as soon as Akira laid eyes on the other the boy ran straight for his cabin. It wasn’t long until Akira got his first fetch quest. This time with Yusuke, son of Apollo and Futaba the quirky daughter of Hephaestus. It was a strange team, filled with dumb fights and hiding in the bathroom but it was successful.
Goro still won’t talk to him. Instead he ended up with two Ares girls on his twelfth birthday.
It was after this quest when he was finally given a small break. At this point he was desperate. He was tired,scared and most of all he wanted his friend back. So once he was left alone after dinner, he dragged Goro by the arm from the archery ring and into the Zeus cabin.
“We need to talk.”
They talked and talked and talked way past curfew, maybe they could have reconnect months ago. If only Akira was given a chance to settle down. But now he did.
It was Goro that figured out who his parent was, Goro always did say that whenever he was around Akira he always felt safe, at home. Other people told him that too. Even Akira felt the sense of family whenever he’s with his friends.
They hit the book soon after and came up with an answer.
Epione, the goddess of soothing pain.
Akira’s power seems to work with mental pain and after going on a quest with Goro and Hifumi, he can soothe small physical pain. Anything bigger than a small knife wound would leave him passed out on the ground. But it was better than any ambrosia or nectar, it was a rewarded feeling and an especially tiring one.
It made the quest after a lot easier.
Everything breaks down around the age of fifteen, it was quiet and sudden. Akira knew of camp deserters, they all did. It is often talked about in late night horror stories. Akira may have made one or two up on his own as well. But there has been an increase in unrest between the minor god and goddess children.
“The gods are using you as their playthings aren’t they?” Ten year old Nozoki told him one day. “How long can you keep winding yourself until you break?”
He still hasn't told anyone of his talk with the gods, yet.
It was after that day that people started leaving the camp in groups.
Yukki
Nozoki
And Goro.
The older boy didn’t even say goodbye.
Was it something Akira has done?
Their last talk was another late night one. This time hanging out on the roof of Goro’s cabin. They were talking about school. Akechi was close to finishing high school and Akira was on his way to his last year. When Akechi asked of his future plans, Akira hesitated. Was there a future for him? Akira never thought he would make it this long, even then, he did not have the time to develop any hobbies or focus on school work compared to his peers. Who cared about school when the world was ending.
Maybe it was his defeated tone, he hated it at first he really did. But now Akira just accepts it as another part of life. Demigods don’t get to live long, everyone knows that, that’s why the camp was created in the first place to provide children a safe place to live and to teach them to survive. Akira who's been in and out of the camp in almost all of his teen years has a higher chance of an early death compared to his friends.
“What if everything change.” Goro talked in a low and deep voice. A tone Akira rarely hear outside of anger and battle. He must be serious. “What if we had a chance to go out into the world without any fear of getting killed or being forced by the gods to do whatever they want.”
“That’s a dangerous thought you have there.” He replied.
“Humor me Akira.”
“Well,” What kind of answers would satisfy Goro. He honestly never really bothered to even spend time daydreaming about this. What are somethings the seasonal campers talk about during dinner time?
“I think I want to go somewhere populated.”
“Somewhere populated, Kurusu-kun?”
He nodded. “Yeah like the scramble or Kyoto, maybe even destinyland.”
“Those are tourist traps Kurusu-kun.” Goro replied wirily.
“So? What I want my wallet to get tricked by the many faces of capitalism. Aren’t they places of memories. I don't mind spending my whole day in these places. It seems like fun.”
“You know, I expected someone like you to want something more dramatic. For someone who always lives in the danger zone.”
He shrugged. “Normal is Ok, I think I would like to be that mysterious man behind the bar.”
Goro actually snorted at that. “Are you even able to stay in one place for that long?”
Ok, so maybe Goro has a point. There no why he can stay in one place for so long. But if he gets to meet new people everyday it sure to be just as fun.
“-beside, I can’t see you handling alcohol.”
“Geez Goro, way to crush my dreams. I was thinking of running some kind of underground coffee bar. “
“An underground coffee bar. That sounds like you. I think I might have isted everyday.”
“Oh? A loyal customer ? Thank you for your patronage, good sir.”
“You’re very welcomed overworked barista.”
They sighed.
“Goro is everything OK?| He finally asked. “What you have been saying lately has me worried. You know the people upstairs can hear everything here right?”
“Of course, please do not worry about me Akira-kun, I’m sure you already have lots on your plate right now.”
“But I always have space in my heart for you. Please ‘kechi, I won’t tell anyone no matter what you tell me. On my life.”
“You really shouldn’t be putting your life on the line so easily.” Goro mumbled, mostly to himself but Akira heard it all anyway.
“It’s all part of the job.” He chirp back.
The next day he was gone.
A traitor everyone called him, someone who abandoned the gods to join the wrong side historically and morally. It did not take long for the rumors to start around camp.
“I’ve always knew he was evil.”
“He was always acting so creepy around Akira I wonder if he was ever planning on killing him.”
“It’s good that he left, who knows what he would’ve done if he stayed. “
It was getting harder and harder to face each day with a smile without Goro. His other friends at least one that has yet to publicly disowned Goro stayed by his side comforting him telling him that everything is alright.
But war, war is coming and Akira is expected to be in the front line as a leader. He can’t. He does not want to do this any more. Oh godly parent please give him a sign.
But nothing came.
Nothing but ruin for Tokyo.
They were
Winning
Losing
Dying
...fighting.
They were fighting for their life, each of his friends split up into different groups to try and take back different parts of the city.
Akira was tasked to find the leader of the resistance and to put an end to it once and for all, a fitting task for the hero.
It did not take long to find him, he was exactly where Akira expected him to be and exactly where Goro wanted him to be at.
“Goro,” He mumbled, approaching his enemy with his dagger clutched in his hand tightly. “I came to stop you.”
Goro turned around to face him. Instead of the camp t-shirt and ripped jeans that Akira normally sees him in. He was instead wearing a leather jacket and a collared shirt underneath his regular jeans. It was a strange combination but Akira can’t help but to think it suits Goro well.
“I’m happy you came.”
“This is our meeting place after all.”
Enough with the banter, Akira can’t afford to stall now, not when everyone is fighting for their lives.
“Goro, surrender now. I can get the gods to put you on probation or something bu-”
“You know that’s not true. Do you really think that will pay attention to a mortal even someone like you, since when have they done anything for you.”
“I-”
“Think Akira.” Goro shouted, holding on to his shoulder for dear life. “You’ve been used over and over again. We were just kids. You don’t even have a childhood doesn’t that upset you?”
It did, it still does but Goro knows that he does not like to think about that.
“I used to be so scared.” Goro’s volume went down all the way to a whisper as if talking about this of all things would finally get him stuck down by lightning. “Everytime you come home your eyes would grow darker and darker. I used to have nightmares that the darkness would eat you alive. The trauma you endured. As a son of one of the big three it should have been me.”
Akira shook his head vigorously, he could even feel some of the hair strand stabbing his eyes. It burns a bit, but that’s not important.
“No Goro! I would never wish this life on anyone. The quest, the glory. It’s not worth it! I wanted you to be safe and happy but you ignored me.”
“I know.” Goro’s hand slowly trailed down until they came right above his waist putting the two in some sort of half hug position. “I’m sorry Akira.”
Akira swallowed back a sob threatening to come out. His dagger was right there and Goro was so close and vulnerable. He could end this, he can stop this war once and for all.
“Goro please, end this war. That way everything will go back to normal.”
“You know that’s not what’s going to happen. The gods will use you again and again until you one day burn out and they choose the next unlucky kid to be the hero.” Goro paused. “Akira...why don’t you join me.”
“Hu-”
“Lots of our men need healing. With your powers you can save them! Your mother may not recognize you but we do. We can stop this cycle and give everyone a better future. We would no longer live in fear or worried over someone’s temper tantrum. Akira, I know I haven’t been a good friend to you but I can make it all up now so please.”
Goro reached out his hand and dropped his weapon.
“Join me.”
Akira dropped his dagger as well.
He knows this isn’t the right choice, if they were to fail both Akira and Goro would face harsh unimaginable punishment. But Goro along with everything he ever wanted was right there.
Akira reached out his own hands and-
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kookie-doughs · 3 years
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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS
Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.
CHAPTER 7: FIRST DAY OF CAMP
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Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Wherever we went, campers pointed at us and murmured something about toilet water. Or maybe they were just staring at Annabeth, who was still pretty much dripping wet. She showed me a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast enough. Finally we returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins. "I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly. "Dinner's at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall." "Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets." "Whatever." "It wasn't my fault." She looked at us skeptically, and I realized it might've been my fault. I may have made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures and made the ground shake. I didn't understand how. "You need to talk to the Oracle, both of you." Annabeth said. "Who?" "Not who. What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron." Percy stared into the lake, I rested my head on his shoulder wishing somebody would give me a straight answer for once. I wasn't expecting anybody to be looking back at me from the bottom, so my heart skipped a beat when I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, and their brown hair floated loose around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved as if I were a long-lost friend. I didn't know what else to do. I waved back. "Don't encourage them," Annabeth warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts." "Naiads," Percy repeated, feeling completely overwhelmed. "That's it. I want to go home now." Annabeth frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us." "You mean, mentally disturbed kids?" "I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-human." "Half-human and half-what?" "I think you know." "God," I said. "Half-god." Annabeth nodded. "Your father isn't dead, Percy. And one of your parent isn't your parent, Y/N. You are both a child of one of the Olympians. " "That's... crazy." "Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?" "But those are just— But if all the kids here are half-gods—" "Demigods," Annabeth said. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods." "Then who's your dad?" Her hands tightened around the pier railing. I got the feeling we'd just trespassed on a sensitive subject. "My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history." "He's human." "What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?" "Who's your mom, then?" "Cabin six." "Meaning?" Annabeth straightened. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle." Okay, I thought. Why not? "And who's mine?" "You grew up with both a mother and a father. So only your Olympian parent knows." "And my dad?" "Undetermined," Annabeth said, "like I told you before. Nobody knows." "Except my mother. She knew." "Maybe not, Percy. Gods don't always reveal their identities." "My dad would have. He loved her." Annabeth gave me a cautious look. She didn't want to burst my bubble. "Maybe you're right. Maybe he'll send a sign. That's the only way to know for sure: your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens." "You mean sometimes it doesn't?" Annabeth ran her palm along the rail. "The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don't always... Well, sometimes they don't care about us, Percy. They ignore us." I thought about some of the kids I'd seen in the Hermes cabin, teenagers who looked sullen and depressed, as if they were waiting for a call that would never come. But gods should behave better. Whoever my Olympian parent better suck up and claim me or I will show him. "So I'm stuck here," Percy said. "That's it? For the rest of my life?" "It depends," Annabeth said. "Some campers only stay the summer. If you're a child of Aphrodite or Demeter, you're probably not a real powerful force. The monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But for some of us, it's too dangerous to leave. We're year-rounders. In the mortal world, we attract monsters. They sense us. They come to challenge us. Most of the time, they'll ignore us until we're old enough to cause trouble—about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get killed off. A few manage to survive in the outside world and become famous. Believe me, if I told you the names, you'd know them. Some don't even realize they're demigods. But very, very few are like that." "So monsters can't get in here?" Annabeth shook her head. "Not unless they're intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by somebody on the inside." "Why would anybody want to summon a monster?" "Practice fights. Practical jokes." "Practical jokes?" "The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm." "So... you're a year-rounder?" Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt she pulled a leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. It was just like Luke's, except Annabeth's also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring. "I've been here since I was seven," she said. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college." "Why did you come so young?" She twisted the ring on her necklace. "None of your business." "Oh." I stood there for a minute in uncomfortable silence. "So... I could just walk out of here right now if I wanted to?" "It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D's or Chiron's permission." "I've never had anything weird going on. I had a perfectly normal life." "It's because you don't give much of a half-blood scent. Even Grover didn't knew you were one of us until you came here. Even now they still don't smell you." "I just... want to go somewhere... else." I could see that Percy was guilty. "They wouldn't give permission until the end of the summer session unless..." "Unless?" "You were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time..."
Her voice trailed off. I could tell from her tone that the last time hadn't gone well. "Back in the sick room," Percy said, "when you were feeding me that stuff—" "Ambrosia." "Yeah. You asked me something about the summer solstice." Annabeth's shoulders tensed. "So you do know something?" "Well... no. Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn't have much time, because of the deadline. What did that mean?" She clenched her fists. "I wish I knew. Chiron and the satyrs, they know, but they won't tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed so normal." "You've been to Olympus?" "Some of us year-rounders—Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others—we took a field trip during winter solstice. That's when the gods have their big annual council." "But... how did you get there?" "The Long Island Railroad, of course. You get off at Penn Station. Empire State Building, special elevator to the six hundredth floor." She looked at us like she was sure I must know this already. "You are a New Yorker, right?" "Oh, sure." As far as I knew, there were only a hundred and two floors in the Empire State Building, but I decided not to point that out. "Right after we visited," Annabeth continued, "the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. A couple of times since, I've overheard satyrs talking. The best I can figure out is that something important was stolen. And if it isn't returned by summer solstice, there's going to be trouble. When you came, I was hoping... I mean— Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she's got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought you might know something." I shook my head. I wished I could help her, but I felt too hungry and tired and mentally overloaded to ask any more questions. "I've got to get a quest," Annabeth muttered to herself. "I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem..." I could smell barbecue smoke coming from somewhere nearby. Annabeth must've heard my stomach growl. She told me to go on, she'd catch me later. I left her on the pier, tracing her finger across the rail as if drawing a battle plan. Back at cabin eleven, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner. For the first time, I noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers. Thankfully, nobody paid much attention to us as we walked in. Percy left me to settle at his spot while I sat at mine. Luke, came over. He had the Hermes family resemblance, too. It was marred by that scar on his right cheek, but his smile was intact. "I hope you settle in just fine," he said. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store." He had a very friendly and welcoming aura around him, I couldn't help but giggle, "Thanks." "No prob." Luke sat next to me. "Tough first day?" "I don't belong here," I said. "From what I've heard about other campers. I had a perfectly normal life. Nothing weird... I-I don't even believe in Gods..." "Yeah," he said. "That's how we all started. Once you start believing in them? It doesn't get any easier." The bitterness in his voice surprised me, because Luke seemed like a pretty easygoing guy. He looked like he could handle just about anything. "So your dad is Hermes?" I asked. He pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket, but he just scraped the mud off the sole of his sandal. "Yeah. Hermes." "The wing-footed messenger guy." "That's him. Messengers. Medicine. Travelers, merchants, thieves. Anybody who uses the roads. That's why you're here, enjoying cabin eleven's hospitality. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors." I figured Luke didn't mean to call me a nobody. He just had a lot on his mind. "You ever meet your dad?" I asked. "Once." I waited, thinking that if he wanted to tell me, he'd tell me. Apparently, he didn't. I wondered if the story had anything to do with how he got his scar. Luke looked up and managed a smile. "Don't worry about it, Y/N. The campers here, they're mostly good people. After all, we're extended family, right? We take care of each other." He seemed to understand how lost I felt, and I was grateful for that, because an older guy like him—even if he was a counselor—should've steered clear of an uncool middle-schooler like me. But Luke had welcomed me into the cabin. He'd even stolen me some toiletries, which was the nicest thing anybody had done for me all day keeping Percy's works. I decided to ask him my last big question, the one that had been bothering me all afternoon. "Clarisse, from Ares, was joking about me and Percy being 'Big Three' material. Then Annabeth... twice, she said I might be 'the one.' She said I should talk to the Oracle. What was that all about?" Luke folded his knife. "I hate prophecies." "What do you mean?" His face twitched around the scar. "Let's just say I messed things up for everybody else. The last two years, ever since my trip to the Garden of the Hesperides went sour, Chiron hasn't allowed any more quests. Annabeth's been dying to get out into the world. She pestered Chiron so much he finally told her he already knew her fate. He'd had a prophecy from the Oracle. He wouldn't tell her the whole thing, but he said Annabeth wasn't destined to go on a quest yet. She had to wait until... somebody special came to the camp." "Somebody special?" "Don't worry about it, kid," Luke said. "Annabeth wants to think every new camper who comes through here is the omen she's been waiting for." I didn't know why... but I grabbed his hand, he turned to me surprised. "I-I... Uhm, I want to get to know you better... I... I'm here if you want to talk. A-As a thank you for helping me since I got here! I-I..." He gave a warm smile and ruffled my hair. "Thank you. Now, come on, it's dinnertime." The moment he said it, a horn blew in the distance. Luke yelled, "Eleven, fall in!" The whole cabin, about twenty of us, filed into the commons yard. We lined up in order of seniority, so of course I was dead last with Percy. Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for the three empty cabins at the end, and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime, but was now starting to glow silver as the sun went down. "Percy," "Hmm?" "Are you okay?" I was about to grip his sleeve when he moved away. "I'm sorry... I'll tell you after dinner." I looked at him sadly while he thought to himself. We marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined us from the meadow. Naiads emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls came out of the woods— and when I say out of the woods, I mean straight out of the woods. I saw one girl, about nine or ten years old, melt from the side of a maple tree and come skipping up the hill. In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood nymphs and naiads. At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Four of the tables were empty, but cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. I had to squeeze on to the edge of a bench with half my butt hanging off. I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too small for a centaur. Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her gray eyes and honey-blond hair. Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over being hosed down, because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends. Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!" Everybody else raised their glasses. "To the gods!" Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and yes, barbecue! Percy sat beside other kids of the Hermes cabin. My glass was empty, but Luke said, "Speak to it. Whatever you want—nonalcoholic, of course." I said, "(Favorite Drink; F/D)." The glass filled with sparkling caramel liquid. Then I had an idea. "F/C F/D." The drink turned a violent shade of F/C. I took a cautious sip. Perfect.. . . . . I drank a toast to my loved ones. They're not gone, I told myself. I felt like I was forgetting something. Like I know I will get too them all soon. "Here you go," Luke said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket. I loaded my plate and was about to take a big bite when I noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the center of the pavilion. I wondered if they were going for dessert or something. "Come on," Luke told me. As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll. Luke murmured in my ear, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell." "You're kidding." His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn't help wondering why an immortal, all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food. Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes." I was next. I wished I knew what god's name to say. Finally, I made a silent plea. Whoever you better claim me, or I will come for you and you won't like what I'll do. I scraped a big slice of brisket into the flames. When I caught a whiff of the smoke, I didn't gag. It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies, hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have gone well together, but did. I could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke. When everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our attention. Mr. D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels." A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table. "Personally," Mr. D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new campers today. Peter Johnson and (Wrong Name)." Chiron murmured something. "Er, Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N," Mr. D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on." Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s'mores and joked around, and the funny thing was, I didn't feel that anyone was staring at me anymore. I went up to Percy. "What's wrong?" He sighed. "I... I feel like everything... All of this," He signaled at everything, "happened because you met me. When you told Annabeth about your life and how nothing had been going wrong, while I had trouble following me every step... I couldn't help but feel guilty." I knew it... He felt at fault. Taking his hand I looked at him, "I chose to be with you at the beach. I wanted to follow you. I wanted to stay with you. Yeah, troubles came and I lost everything... I would rather have you with me through that. Please?" He rested his head on my shoulder, "Yeah..." Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the conch horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. It was late at night some were asleep, while some were screaming around. I stayed up looking out the window since Luke had warned me about going out. "Long day, how was it?" Luke greeted taking the spot beside me. "Almost had my face flushed down on smelly toilets, so real fun I guess." Luke rested his back against the window and looked at the two boys wrestling each other few feet away. "You know how you told me you wanted to get to know me more?" "Yeah... I mean it. You're the first person I met here. From what I heard you helped me after getting here." "So you feel obligated to get closer to me?" He raised a brow at me with a smirk. "No, I think you're interesting. I want us to be friends. I want to be a person you can trust." "Why?" "I... don't know. I guess I just want to. I mean yeah I also low-key kinda have a crush on you but oh well." I joked. Hearing his laugh I was relieved he was a cool guy. "I'll keep you in mind." "Really now? Okay dream of me I guess." "For a 12 year old you're a flirt." He shook his head with a smile. "It's my mom, she told me the best way to make friends is by flirting. If they're cool with you flirting they're perfect candidate for a friend, if they aren't, you'll have an awkward friendship." "I don't know about that." "I know right? Imagine teaching a 5 year old how to flirt." We laughed. We continued to chat about little things until it got quiet in the cabin. Most of them were now asleep. Percy slept as soon as he lied down, after all. "Good night." Luke smiled. "Yeah, good night." I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I collapsed on the bed. When I closed my eyes, I fell asleep instantly. That was my first day at Camp Half-Blood. I already felt like I belong. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all...
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arse-crack-thistle · 3 years
Text
a firstprince meet-cute
the heroes of olympus au
in which the roman son of apollo meets the greek son of themis
Henry—the quiet son of Apollo and Centurion of the 3rd cohort—leads a team of five demigods through the Long Island woods. Their task: spy on the Greeks and bring information back to Octavian. The golden-haired boy wishes he could’ve refused, but anyone who goes against the Pontifex Maximus gets severely punished and he will not let any harm come to his legionaries. Not again.
The group weaves through the trees, dodging the sight of any patrols. Henry has no idea how he’ll get close enough to hear anything, but he might be able to interpret some battle strategy from the Greek’s night preparations. As his fellow soldiers fan out beside him, Henry inches up the hill. He’d say a prayer to his father if he thought it would help, but he doesn’t. After many unanswered prayers about his sexuality, about his rather fucked up influential family, he doesn’t bother with Apollo anymore.
Henry gestures for his right-hand man—Pez, son of Mercury and the only one who actually knows he’s gay—to peer over the hill with him; the others stay back, keeping watch. The Centurion readies an arrow just in case, while Pez has his hand on the hilt of his blade, and they watch Greek demigods reinforce their buildings, sharpen their weapons, and prepare medical tents. None of them are practicing formations, which doesn’t help Henry or Octavian at all. He has to come back with something, so he puts the arrow away and crawls forward.
This could be really stupid, but he has to try—not for Octavian but for New Rome. It’s the only place that’s felt like home to him. Back in England, there’s his grandmother, the CEO of an underwhelming home goods empire. The stuff is cheap, but they’re still the number one seller back home. His mother and brother have a part in it. His sister ran off a few years back, and he has no idea where she is or if she’s even alive. His father—or rather ex-step-father—hasn’t wanted much to do with him since about three years ago when he found out Henry’s mother had an affair at a music festival fourteen years before.
They had a scandalous divorce, covered by every major news outlet, and Henry found out his true identity when a handsome demigod knocked on his door and told him he was in danger and had to be take to California. Several monsters, a few thousand miles, and a few months with a wolf goddess later, he found himself at Camp Jupiter. Everything that happened to him up until then—the blurry images of creatures at the corner of his eyes every time he turned a corner, the dyslexia that made his passion for writing frustrating, the way he never really fit in with his family—finally made sense. He was a demigod! And when the sign of Apollo appeared over his head after he made his first bullseye at the archery range, he truly felt like he found where he belonged.
Pez whispers for him to come back, but Henry lifts a hand in warning. Just then, someone—a dryad probably—screams an alert to his enemy, and all Underworld breaks loose. His legionaries get in formation behind him, readying themselves for the Greeks. They were taught never to run from a fight, but Henry can’t allow this to happen. He’s been in enough battles to know when he can win and when he can’t. Eventually, they’ll be outnumbered because Octavian won’t send him reinforcements if he can help it. He doesn’t know how violent the Greeks will be, but if they willingly fired on New Rome when their defenses were down, then he can’t take the risk. And he won’t repeat what happened in the Titan war.
Henry orders his soldiers back, telling Pez to take temporary control of the cohort and share the minimal information they gathered with the Pontifex. If they’re to be any casualties tonight, it will only be Henry and the Greeks he can take down with him.
•••
The last thing Alex—the wise-ass son of Themis—wants to do in the middle of the night is go to a counsel meeting at the Big House. He wipes the sleep from his eyes as he walks up the creaky steps. Inside, Chiron and the other counsellors gather around a table. It’s times like this he wishes it was a year ago when the children of minor gods were left out of meetings and decision-making. But as soon as he slaps himself awake, he regains his undying need to get involved and raise hell—fair and just hell, of course.
He sits down next to Nora, the temporary head counsellor of the Athena cabin. She’s bouncing in her seat—no doubt high on caffeine and nectar and ready to get back to developing war strategy. She gives him a wink and taps her fingers like she’s back home typing on a computer. Chiron clears his throat and tells the demigods of a Roman scout team that was spotted an hour ago. Unfortunately, most of the soldiers got away, but they did manage to capture one. He’s being held in one of the Big House’s guest rooms.
Now it’s Alex’s turn to bounce. He’s been waiting for an opportunity like this. A prisoner of war means they’ll need to get information. There will need to be a lawyer present—or a lawyer in training that is. He can preside over the questioning, be the voice of justice, and maybe even get the Roman to see the right side is his. He can picture it now: Camp Half-Blood safe from the Romans and that dude reformed in his ways, joining them to stop Gaia. Yes, this is his chance to step out of his sister’s shadow.
He volunteers to mediate for whoever is charged with the interview. Alex ignores Chiron’s obvious hesitation; just because he can get a little heated—thank gods Leo isn’t here cracking a dumb pun joke at that, which would inevitably leave them both laughing on the floor—doesn’t mean he can’t be objective. So he hates the Romans’ guts and thinks they should go back to their stuck-up little camp, so what? Once he’s in the real world, going to college, running for congress like his father, he’ll have to deal with a shit-ton of people he doesn’t like. Looking at you, Bitch McConnell.
Just as Chiron decides he, Nora, Will Solace, and reluctantly Alex will talk to the Roman boy, a camper from the Aphrodite cabin bursts through the door and tells him one of the Hephaestus girls accidentally blew up a boy from the Ares cabin. Apparently, armor strapped with projectile explosives wasn’t the best idea. So Chiron declares they will talk to their guest in the morning, and in the meantime, they’ll take shifts in pairs guarding him. Alex raises his hand to get the first watch, but Chiron appoints Drew Tanaka and Connor Stoll. They both roll their eyes at the idea of being stuck together for the next few hours. Alex’s chest deflates.
Ever since his sister left—he and June are some of the rare demigods that have the same mortal and immortal parentage without being twins—the responsibility of the Themis cabin has fallen on his shoulders. He wanted it, of course, but his siblings also elected him to the head counsellor position, thinking he’d follow in June’s footsteps: ruling with truth, justice, and wisdom. Just like their mother.
Back in his cabin, Alex stares at the marble statue of her that presides over her children. Her iconic image—blindfolded, holding a sword in one hand and balancing a scale in the other—reminds him he’s definitely no June.
She was a leader of quests; Alex has never been on one. June was the voice of reason at counsel meetings; he struggles just to sit still, let alone calm a room with one enlightening sentence. When the children of minor gods were finally given their own cabins, there was no question who should run theirs. Now, he hears his siblings whisper whether they should hold another election. Gods, you call out your conservative brothers one time—it was way more than once—and suddenly, you’re imposing your opinion on everyone.
That’s not it though. Alex has never been given a chance to step up. No matter how many times he tries to convince the counsel they should establish a court system at camp—nothing settles an argument like a nice, fair trial—he always gets shot down.
Not anymore. He’s not going to sit back this time. Not when the threat to camp is this great. He’ll get what he needs from that Roman. If June were here, she would’ve been trusted to go ahead without Chiron, so Alex will do the same.
•••
Henry wakes up to angry whispers outside of his door. The twelve Greeks overtook him easily, but he did put up a good fight. At least, he did until he was knocked unconscious. On the table beside his bed, a note sits atop a plate of food.
Eat well. Hydrate. Rest. We’ll speak with you soon. -Chiron
A glass of juice spiked with nectar sits next to the plate. Why would those imbecilic Greeks give him what’s essentially strengthening serum? He intakes his surroundings: a bed, a table, a dresser, and a chair. Window to the left. Only door out to the right. There’s a clean set of clothes at the end of the bed, but Henry would rather go to Tartarus and back than put on another camp’s shirt.
He jimmies the window, but it’s locked and to hard to break. He lightly tries the doorknob, but it’s locked as well. By the sounds of it, three maybe four people argue outside his door. Romans never had this much trouble changing guard shifts. Henry fiddles about the room, looking for anything to 1. unlock the door and 2. use as a weapon. He can handle four Greeks, and he’ll do everything in his power to get back to his cohort.
Henry hears the click of the door unlocking. Gods, they’re thick, aren’t they? He grabs the wooden chair, and as the door swings open, he thwacks the person walking in with it. Just as he suspected, the chair breaks, and he uses one piece to press against the throat of the careless demigod he’s pinned to the floor.
The boy beneath him groans. He’s got light brown skin and dark curly hair, and if Henry weren’t about to kill him, he’d think he was quite cute.
“Gods, can you Greeks do anything with finesse? Even your hero, Percy Jackson, as talented as he may be, flies by the seed of his trousers.” Henry grits his teeth.
“Ha!” the boy coughs out. “Jumping to conclusions, are we? I thought you guys were supposed to be strictly trained soldiers. You miscalculated.”
He points behind him, and when Henry looks up, a girl stands battle-ready with a sword in her hand. The distraction is enough for the boy below to wrap his legs around Henry and flip them. The Greek holds a dagger to his neck.
“Listen here, pretty boy, are we going to talk or am I going to go all American Revolution on your British-ass?” He presses the dagger, and Henry yelps.
The boy’s brown eyes peer into Henry’s, and some strange part of him likes it. The Greek looks about his age and, while clearly not as capable as he, definitely has some fight in him.
“I’d like to see you try, graecus. But be forewarned, if you send me to the Underworld, I’ll drag you and your camp down with me.” He keeps his face plain and uncaring, though he can feel the heat in his cheeks. Apollo help him.
The girl interrupts them to remind her partner what they’re here to do. She sheaths her sword and closes the door.
He’s called Alex. Henry swallows. And they need information.
Alex releases him. The two get up off the ground. No one moves to sit or get more comfortable. The boys just stare at each other, long and cold.
Henry can tell this guy is a complete and total arse, and yet he can’t shake the swirling feeling in his stomach. A memory from a quest eighteen months ago flashes in his mind. In Vegas, a priest of Venus dressed like Elvis told him great tragedy would befall his love life, but with the goddess’s blessing, he’d find happiness again.
He already lost someone. The demigod who found him, Daniel, son of Ceres, his sponsor when he joined the camp, his Centurion. Everything was quiet between them—few words needed for mutual understanding. Daniel brought him fresh lavender; Henry played him a tune on the lute. But then the Titan war came. And Daniel disobeyed the Praetors’ orders to save the boy he loved. Henry barely had time to grieve before he took control of the 3rd cohort and lost four other demigods in the process. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t think of the five who died because of him. Because of love.
No. This feeling he has is the desire to beat the Greeks, nothing more. He doesn’t give a damn about happiness in love or this obnoxiously hot demigod before him. Like even as Alex breaks eye contact first, puts his sheathed dagger in his boot, ruffles his hair, puts his hands on his hips, and sighs, Henry feels nothing. Elvis can go fuck himself.
“So,” Alex says, “what do you have planned, and how can we convince you to stop? We’d really like to prevent another demigod civil war.”
Henry laughs, and even though nothing would make him happier than to stop fighting, to rest as Chiron suggested, he tells Alex, “You’re really a dickhead if you think I’m giving you anything.”
•••
“It was an accident!”
“You expect me to believe with our two camps in a centuries-long feud that the one time we let down our defenses, your lot just attacked us on accident? Right, and I suppose Pluto is actually a sweet guy once you get to know him, too?”
“My buddy Leo was being controlled by Gaia!”
“Your mate Leo should come up with a better lie.”
“You’re impossible!” Gods, Alex really hates this guy. “Nora, can’t we just—”
She shakes her head before he can finish. He’s not really sure what he was going to say. Have Drew come back and charmspeak him? Feed him to the harpies? Pin him down again? Wait—what?
“Listen, dude. We’re really on the same side here. Right now, both Greeks and Romans demigods—our friends—are fighting against a greater threat than the world has seen since the beginning of time. That’s got to count for something,” he says.
The Roman is quiet. Alex hates how he looks like a goddamn prince even after a fight. But maybe he got through to him. After all, it is true. For all the shit he talks about Romans, he knows they’re not bad, just different. They actually have more in common than they’d like to acknowledge. Jason Grace taught him that. If there was ever a Roman WASP he could get behind, it’s Jason.
So Alex tries a different approach. He gestures to the bed. “You want to?” The blond boy stiffens, and Alex clarifies, “Sit?”
“How about we start over?” He sits. Nora takes the opportunity to march to the other side and bellyflops onto the bed. “I’m Alex, son of Themis, the goddess of justice. And you are?”
He watches the Roman look from the undefended door to Alex and back again.
“You could run,” Alex says. “But then we’d have no chance to broker peace. Hera thought she could do it by trading heroes, but I think you and I both know it takes more than one person to heal two armies.”
Power swells in his chest. Alex can’t know for sure, but maybe his mother is looking out for him. This is how he can bring the demigods justice for Gaia’s destruction. June would be the better choice, but Alex is here and he has to try.
“Let’s work together. Or at least, get along long enough for the prophesized seven to come back home,” he says.
The Roman hesitates. Alex can see in his light blue eyes the number of strategies racing through his mind. But ultimately, he decides to sit. Nora snores next to them. Five a.m. and a caffeine/nectar crash will do that to you.
“So your name?” Alex asks. “It’s only fair.” Dumb pun but he winks.
The boy coughs, but then he looks into Alex’s eyes. “I’m—er—Henry, son of Apollo, Centurion of the 3rd cohort.”
so this is a little late but we’re just going to ignore that...
i just finished reading toa a couple of weeks ago, and i can’t stop thinking about it!! so when i saw the meet-cute prompt, i couldn’t resist a percy jackson-ish fic! i hope you enjoyed this little short piece. <3
rwrb romance week | @rwrb-fests
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ariihen · 4 years
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I don’t know if this is your thing or not, but could I get some brotherly Nico/Stolls headcanons, your post about them finishing the Hades cabin for him has me hooked
i got u anon, i will take every opportunity to give nico more siblings.
the stoll brothers did their best to cheer nico up the day that bianca left with the huntresses, but when assuring words like “don’t worry man, bianca will come back!” and “the huntresses visit all the time!” didn’t work, they resorted through other means. 
mainly, by letting him exert that anger. by this point i imagine the hermes cabin was still dealing with the huge blow of luke betraying camp and subsequently some campers with him. it’s not quite the same thing, but they can relate to nico. an older sibling they loved and trusted chose to leave them. they’re grieving and angry, too.
they bring him to the zeus’ fist and encourage him to scream and let it out. they egg him into swearing when they find out that bianca was fairly strict and wouldn’t let him watch things beyond pg-13.
“come on, nico, you know you want to” 
“yeah man, just one bad word. we won’t tell.” 
“rebellion, nico.”
they were pretty sad to learn that nico ran away after finding out that bianca died. i think that moment was a little jarring for travis and connor because, just like the di angelos, they’re full-blooded siblings too. they don’t know what they would’ve done if the other one died. i imagine they spent a long time trying to look for nico but reluctantly were forced to give up after a month, because that’s too long a time for a demigod to survive on their own. let alone a 10 year old who was only just learning how to. 
they’re pleasantly surprised when percy resurfaces from the labrynth with nico and welcomed him warmly. they joke about his sudden wardrobe change, but you can bet their big brother instincts reared up seeing just how much this happy little kid had changed.
they tried inviting him to sit with them and eat after the battle but nico didn’t really stick around long enough since he wanted to keep following leads about his past, but this becomes a recurring habit every time they see nico visit camp.
they’re constantly trying to encourage him to join them in camp activities, like they’re still his counsellors. they notice easily how uneasy the other campers are around nico and can see the affect it has on the kid, so it also becomes a habit to deflect that attention onto themselves so that nico doesn’t have to deal with the brunt of their focus.
more below the line because i got very carried away
and the thing is, nico notices. not at first, because he thought mischief was just in their blood like that, you know? but then he starts seeing the pattern. how the stoll brothers would act up and let him fade in the shadows so he doesn’t have to deal with people’s scrutiny.
he notices their offers to spend time with them, naturally, but given how the hermes cabin was already getting mistrusting looks from the other campers due to the situation with luke, the last thing he wanted to do was aggravate it more with his presence. so he politely and regretfully declines and goes.
after the first war, they spot nico eating alone on the hades table and pretty much invite themselves over to eat with him, cheerfully ignoring chiron’s disapproving looks in favour of asking nico to help them with their pranks.
he can summon the undead, travel through shadows, and is a proficient fighter? you can bet they want him at their side.
nico’s very surprised by how unaffected they are by his powers. most people tended to get unnerved by it and treat him accordingly, but the stolls remember the cheerful little boy who won all their valuables from them during poker and no amount of dead things was gonna change that.
plus, shadow-travel is a convenient getaway. they’re more than prepared to catch him and feed him after.
of course they do notice the colder reception the other campers start giving nico again after a while and see how badly the kid is taking it. they tried their best to help him and let him know that they were there, but were ultimately disappointed when they find out he left again.
disappointed, but not entirely surprised. because there was still a lot to fix after luke and honestly some of the kids in chb can be pretty cruel. they can’t blame nico for choosing to run away again.
they still give him a very warm reception whenever nico does visit though, as temporary as it is. connor’s the one that notices that nico always makes sure to greet them whenever he was around and he’s pretty glad to know that nico feels comfortable enough with them to check in.
i’m still on the belief that it should have been the stolls to find nico when he was sneaking up on the romans tbh. the “there are people here who care about you” line would make much more sense from nico’s former camp counsellors.
i like to think that they’re one of the first people in chb nico feels comfortable enough to tell about his sexuality and and tries not to cry when they respond by hugging him and thank him for telling them.
“want us to hook you up? we’re very good wingmen.” connor tells him
“i think mitchell from aphrodite is single” travis comments
they’re both very pleased to startle a laugh out of him. nico giggles himself silly and for a moment the stolls are reminded of the little 10 year old who toddled after them and spouted off little mythomagic facts he memorised by heart.
nico does end up helping them with pranks. he figures if the other campers were going to look at him like he was going to do something to them anyway, then he might as well earn it. 
he’s also more than willing to get them contraband outside of chb, especially since chiron basically gives him permission to do whatever the hell he wants. 
they’re probably on the very small list of people who nico’s willing to talk about bianca with, especially when the anniversary of her death approaches. especially when they helped him grieve her the first time she left, too.
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