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beuatifulbuttercup · 7 months

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Godly Parent Swap AU: The Di Angelos

Plot bunnies are fun, lack of motivation is not. Also this wasn't beta read so proceed with caution.

(also heads up I low-key don't remember much about HoO and TBOTL. The HoO is literally so bad I remember nada from that)

Maria Di Angelo had two lovers in her short but impactful life, Hypnos and Hecate. Hypnos took the form of a rich business man from northern Italy. They had a brief fling when Maria was rebelling from her parents resulting in Bianca. Later on Hecate became a much more long standing lover. She was incredibly intrigued by Maria as she was clear sighted. Nico was created sorta like how Athena's kids are created but out of magic. Nico isn't old enough to remember his moms' relationship. Bianca is, Hecate treated Bianca like her own daughter. Hypnos gave Hecate a ring with poppy petals in it to give to Bianca. Hecate was on thin ice with Zeus. She had sided with Hades, twice now she had joined Zeus' opposing side. The oracle at the time visited Hecate at Maria's place. Zeus didn't like that for a couple reasons.

1.) Jealousy, Zeus had many lovers at that point but he couldn't be happily in love (lets be quite frank he wasn't possibly capable of that either way)

2.) Hecate had been neglecting her duties as the goddess/titaness of the mist to be with Maria, Bianca, and Nico.

3.) She's a loose cannon in Zeus mind. He needs to show her where she belongs.

Hecate was going to allow Maria and her children to live at Hecate's palace in the underworld. She said that there maybe she could protect her(Maria's but they were practically Hecate's as well) family. Maria denied. Zeus attempted to strike the Di Angelo's with lighting. Hecate was quick and put a barrier around Nico and Bianca but Maria was killed. Hecate was distraught and went to Hypnos and they both quickly discussed a plan. As they were both chthonic deities they devised a plan to bring them to the underworld.

The oracle at the time visited Hecate. She explained that the Di Angelo siblings, especially Nico, were going to be crucial in future events. She advised against it saying that fate was powerful and not to be tempted. Hecate, in an act of pure rage, desperation, and heartbreak, cursed the oracle. This curse is slightly different than the original one in cannon. Hecate has always been one of the scapegoats of the gods. As long as the chthonic gods were treated like, for the lack of a better term, shit the oracle would never move on.

So like in cannon Bianca and Nico are dropped off in the Lotus Casino for the next 80 years. In this time Bianca is practically raising the hyper Nico. Bianca would sing him to sleep every night and always managed to calm him down when he had nightmares.Hecate would often use her magic to watch after Nico and Bianca. Nico had a brief obsession with magicians, he could have sworn he made the mythomagic card on his nightstand move. Bianca and Nico get pulled out of the Lotus Casino and go to their cannon military school. They meet Grover who becomes friends with them.

They meet Annabeth, Silena, Beckendorf, Percy, and the huntresses the same day they get attacked by the manticore. Nico is treating this like the best thing to ever happen to him and Bianca is constantly pulling Nico back so he doesn't get injured. Percy shields them from the manticore and Nico looks star struck. Bianca can't lie and say she's not impressed. Annabeth gets tackled off the cliff and Zoe insinuates that it's because she's a daughter of Aphrodite. Percy get's pissed and almost throws one of his knives at her. Beckendorf explains to the two what is going on. After being offered, Bianca becomes a huntress of Artemis so she can experience freedom in her life. Apollo takes them to camp.

During the capture the flag game Bianca gets reprimanded from Zoe for checking on Nico to make sure his helmet is on right and runs off to join the huntresses. Percy and Thalia roll their eyes at Zoe. Nico sticks with Percy until he tells Nico to go with Austin, son of Demeter, and Jake, son of Aphrodite and stay at the far border. Nico witnesses Silena and Chris get into an ugly fight. It starts with Chris accidentally zapping Silena with a good chunk of lighting. Then Silena douses him with water. Chris shouts at her saying if she was as good as she thinks she is Annabeth would till be here. Percy looks down and fiddles with his knife before looking at the three boys. Percy pats Jake on the back and ruffles his hair. Nico doesn't know why but he felt a feeling of almost jealousy.

Bianca watches as the oracle and Zoe walk towards each other. Bianca makes eye contact with the corpse and sees a flash of white and hears a scream for a brief second. She's brought out of that by the prophecy that the oracle gives out. She leaves with Thalia and Zoe as the other two huntresses that were supposed to go with them were pranks by the Stolls with a poison ivy shirt. Zoe reasoned that two of the lines of the prophecy were already completed. Phone was lost in a land without rain and Dahlia perished at a parent's hand. She argued with Thalia that perish didn't mean die in the prophecy, it meant ruin. Dahlia was a daughter of Demeter and she couldn't continue the quest due to poison ivy, a plant. The two other girls didn't really believe but they continued anyway.

Nico was there with Beckendorf while Percy and Silena went to sneak out. He had them promise they would bring Bianca back safety. The three older campers all had a silent conversation with their eyes. Silena crouched down to Nico's level and put her hand on Nico's shoulder, she promised that they would try. They said goodbye to Silena and Percy before Beckendorf picks Nico up and takes him back to the Hermes cabin.

During their quest Percy gets a dream from Nemesis, his mother. She is trying to convince him to join her and Kronos. The entire time she prevents Percy from waking up. Then Percy hears a sweet voice almost singing to him. He starts envisioning the people he loves the most, Sally, Grover, Silena, Beckendorf, Annabeth. He's able to stand up to his mom and wake up to Bianca singing to him with her hand on his head glowing. Bianca's eyes were closed but they shot open as Percy woke up and she gasped. Bianca and Percy were the only ones up besides Zoe who was on guard duty but wasn't next to them. Bianca and Percy have time to talk with each other. Bianca admits to having insomnia ,which was why she saw Percy having his dream, and never really being able to sleep since she entered the Lotus Casino. Most of the time when she did fall asleep she'd get these dreams of her mother screaming as she saw a bright white light and heard a loud boom. Percy snorts and says that those sound more like nightmares. Bianca shrugs and explains that nightmares are still dreams so she tries not to let them control her. Percy admits that he often gets nightmares that he will join Kronos and have to fight against his friends. He says that if everyone else thinks he's evil they won't care to listen that he's not. Bianca shrugs and says she doesn't know how anyone can see him as evil if he's willing to die for Annabeth. It's a sweet moment, and one of Bianca's lasts.

Meanwhile, at camp, Nico was getting along great with the Hermes kids. He mostly stayed with Grover but when he wasn't with him he was with his cabin mates. His cabin counselor, Micheal, was an amazing prankster. Micheal quickly explained that the only cabin off limits was the Dionysus cabin. When Nico asked why Micheal simply responded with "it's basically kinda like nepotism." Nico's first encounter with the Dionysus kids was withl Will Solace. He was climbing the rock wall with Nico and was partnered with Cecil. Will was sipping on a Diet Coke while holding onto Cecil's rope and Cecil climbed. Kayla, daughter of Hermes, gave Nico the thumbs up and he began to climb. Nico's hand got burned and he fell down the wall. Before hitting the ground he landed on a vine. Will had created many vines that swirled up-wards to catch Nico before he hit the floor. Nico was able to thank him, barely.

Just like in cannon, Bianca dies to get Nico his mythomagic statue. It was the only one he didn't have. Percy begged her not to go and Silena even tried using her water in her water bottle to grab her but it didn't work. Bianca Di Angelo was dead. For the first time in what felt like ever, Nico couldn't sleep that night.

When Percy, Thalia Annabeth, and Silena get back to camp they tell the cabin counselors what happened. Nico asks where his sister is and Silena takes him outside. Grover, Annabeth, Percy, and Beckendorf spied on their conversation. Nico cries and does the usual cannon stuff. However instead of disappearing with a crack something somehow more dramatic happens. His eyes start slowly glowing green and his hands had purple swirls around them. As he cries the glowing gets brighter and brighter until Silena has to turn away. When the glowing stops she turns back and Nico is gone. The patch of grass he was on was now dead. Beckendorf reasons that he is a son of Hecate since her kids tend to be the only ones who glow colors other than yellow. Percy crosses his arms, Bianca was a daughter of Hypnos though, he was sure of it. Silena asks if they should tell Chiron. Percy shakes his head, if he's missing and a child of a chthonic goddess everyone will think he joined Kronos. He doesn't want to put Nico through that.

The next time we see Nico is in the labyrinth. Silena, Beckendorf, Chris, and Clarisse are on the quest. Rachel also tags along. Nico has his Stygian iron sword since he's still the son of the chthonic deity. Silena was the one who promised to keep Bianca safe in his mind. The Minos stuff happens and Nico has gotten a few dreams from Hecate. She was mostly apologetic for everything that happened in Nico's life. Hecate wants Nico to join Kronos like she did but she understands that he might not want to. She stares stories of when Bianca and Nico were younger in Italy. Nico didn't know how to react after finding his godly parent was Hecate. She was goddess and Maria was a mortal woman. His internalized homophobia was one big jumble of confusion. When Nico brings Bianca back she admits she's going to get reincarnated and to not blame Silena or Percy for her death as she chose to make that decision.

Nico teleports to Silena's house for her birthday. Her dad asks who Nico is and Silena explains he's a friend from camp, he doesn't ask anymore questions. Nico tells Silena of a way that she could even the playing field against Luke/Kronos. She could bathe in the River Styx and become mostly invulnerable. He explains that this is what Luke did and that Hecate mentioned it in one of her dream hijackings. Silena asks what would the steps be in doing this and Nico explains she needs her mother's blessing. Silena looks at him before asking if he saw who her parents were. Poseidon and a mortal man. Nico tenses up before blushing and apologizing. She shakes this off and asks if Chris and Percy should do it. Chris because he's a son of Zeus and Percy because he's by far the best fighter at camp. Nico accepts this.

Battle time! Nico shows up with eyes glowing and magic chanting. He turns hellhounds into ants in not time flat. He puts a magical shield over the Apollo kids' healing area so they can heal without being attacked. Their arrows still go threw these shields so Clarisse instructs them her siblings to heal and shoot. Nico also raises the dead as Hecate is the goddess of necromancy. He disappears and reappears in the middle of battle thanks to the mist.

After getting their mother's blessing Chris and Percy both try to bathe in the River Styx. Percy goes first and they(being Percy and Chris) quickly think that Nico betrayed them and was going to hand them over to Hades. Percy get's a little carried away and Chris has to physically stop him from hurting Nico. Nico explains that he didn't know and that it must've been a trick from Hecate or something.

Nico is still the tide turner in the Battle of Manhattan again. He manages to convince Hecate to switch sides and bring Hades to the main battle. Nico keeps fighting and saves so many people no one can doubt his allegiance to the camp. They win and as Silena makes the gods respect ALL the minors gods and their children the curse is broken. Silena thanks Nico for all his help and gives him a hug. Nico helps design the Hecate cabin.

Nico gets kidnapped by Hera and plopped into Camp Jupiter. There he sees Percy who he doesn't recognize. Percy drops his smirk for a millisecond but Nico catches it. Nico thinks he recognizes Percy but can't quite place it. He also notices that Percy now had a prosthetic arm and leg. He finds out that Piper, daughter of Hades, disappeared. He joins the fifth cohort with Gwen, Dakota, Hazel(unclaimed), Percy, and Leo(Bellona). Jason, the praetor, is impressed with Nico's sword fighting skills but says they're too barbaric for his liking. Nico gets claimed by Trivia and all the romans are shocked as Trivia is a virgin goddess. Percy nearly threatens to kill Octavian after he said that Nico must be a monster. After their war games Vulcan shows up. Nico doesn't know why but he gets a sense of dread seeing him. He claims Hazel and sends Nico, Leo and Hazel on their quest to Alaska.

Aaaaand that's all the I got for this little plot bunny. Partly because as I said before I don't remember much of the HoO and partly because of lack of motivation. Ima quickly sum everything up in a neat little paragraph.

After the Argo 2 arrives with Piper, Reyna, Frank, and Thalia Nico gets mad at Frank for bombing New Rome. Nico is the most vocal next to Thalia to save Percy from the jar. Nico watches as Leo and Piper fall into Tartarus. When he gets back to camp he goes to the infirmary to check on Silena and Beckendorf who were injured. He runs into Will who asks Nico to sign his cast. They haven't spoken since they were like ten.

That's the stuff I have down on the Di Angelo family. I'm going to make more mood boards of them. (The Bianca one I made is probably up there as one of my favs.) Pls if you wanna learn more about any other character pls, pls, pls don't be afraid to ask! My asks are always open.

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #Bianca di angelo #cabin 20 #godly parent swap #holy shit this post is long #and I didn't even explain the hoo series #fuck you plot bunnies

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yourthirdparent · 2 years

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jason but he's actually the son of jupiter and venus. like jupiter had an affair with venus and jason was born out of it but jupiter was already in hot water with juno cuz of the beryl thing and adding another affair would make it all worse so he pretends that he just had another kid with beryl cuz he thinks that'll make it like Not As Bad and he even has beryl convinced (btw the gods carry their kids regardless of their sex or the sex of their mortal partners. like poseidon carried percy apollo carried kayla jupiter carries jason). jason finds out pretty quickly cuz he bleeds ichor and its kinda hard to be like "just demigod things :)" when your blood is literally golden

anyways so the quest of seven rolls around and jason just Pretends to be a demigod so he can go along with the rest of the crew so he can make sure they all stay safe. oh but he's not a demigod so who's the last of the seven? easy. nico. he was there during the doors of death thing, why shouldn't he be part of the crew yk? anyways he asks nico to take part in the seven quest in his place and nico agrees and when they have to send someone off to take the athena parthenos to chb jason heads off with reyna and jason just like flies himself reyna and a 40 foot statue lol and he and reyna actually rebuild their friendship from before the swap (the issue that drove a wedge between them was actually the fact that she thought he had changed so much that their bond could never be the same and she was right in a way but they're just as close as they were before. the issue wasn't piper cuz jason and her never dated in this au because that'd be fuckin gross. piper actually dates leo in this one. refer to that one post about piper and leo dating and how it ties into piper's lesbianism and leo's desire to just be close to someone for details) and she finds out that he's actually a god whoopsie and they take the statue to chb

pretty much ends a decent bit like hoo actually does but the gods actually offer the heroes of the prophecy gifts and because jason was Also a part of it he gets one too along with reyna but jason requests mortality

anyways by toa he's just vibing living his life as some guy and then lester shows up and he's like "jeez dad punished you too? what'd you even do to deserve that?" and jason's like "united the camps, saved the world, asked to be mortal" so like they both became mortal at the same time for opposite reasons and they learn like opposite messages from it cuz while apollo's like "wow being mortal sucks ass, i suck ass, i should try to be better for the demigods" jason's like "holy shit this is so much better than being a god. also i like who i am and could maybe afford to not be perfect now." and then jason fucking dies.

#anyways #jason grace #pjo #hoo #toa #allfatherly guidance

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shiftereris · 2 years

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Do yall think theres a child of Apollo who can tell when those are lying? Or a child of Hermes who can fool anyone? or maybe those rolls are swapped?

#pjo headcanon #riordanverse #pjo

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rabbitlegs · 2 years

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more KvC posting~

Some chars have alt costumes that replace them with a different character. This is intentional in the case of characters like Hikaru, Posion, Bill and Unknown Soldier - their palette swap versions get to be alts - but there's some less obvious ones too.

Other ideas: Your favorite Belmont as a Richter alt, your favorite Snake as a Naked Snake alt, Ken as a Ryu alt, Morrigan as a Lilith alt, Apollo Justice as a Phoenix Wright alt (w/ Trucy replacing Maya), Roll as a Mega Man alt.

#parodius #contra #metal gear #mgs #metal gear solid #metal gear rising #raiden #gray fox #hikaru #akane #bill ryzer #lance bean

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alternate-kiza · 2 years

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Low: So are we really going to wait for others?

Apoo: Yes we are

Kid: Luckily we don’t have to wait long, there here.

Killer: Hope you guys weren’t waiting long.

Drake: Not at all

Law: Judging by Zoro’s face something happened.

Zoro: Killer had to stop us for crêpes.

Killer: They were good though.

Zoro: They were good.

Apoo: So are you going to introduce us.

Killer: No

Zoro rolling his eyes: Zora and Kira

Law: Not going to point.

Zoro: Why would I, it’s pretty obvious who is who.

Apollo: What are your names?

Zoro: I thought we established who was who.

Zora: Well you can’t expect stupid people to understand.

Apollo: I heard you!

Kira: You can’t say that to her.

Apollo: Thank you

Kira: Can’t you see, she’s clearly blind.

Apollo: Hey!

Part 1: https://alternate-kiza.tumblr.com/post/682588627872759808/apoo-so-we-finally-meet-our-gender-swap

#one piece #scratchmen apoo #x drake #diez drake #eustass kid #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #one piece killer #killer one piece #roranoa zoro #gender swap #incorrect one piece quotes

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willsimpforanyone · 2 years

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• Please , can we have a Leo Valdez x Apollo kid reader ?

you may indeed!

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leo was bad at archery

just so bad

truly, truly awful

but it was mandated

everyone had to learn to fight with different weapons

and leo had been assigned archery

he couldn't hit a target from five feet away

it didn't help that he always ended up next to this incredibly cute apollo kid that had perfect aim

you were so good and so cute and oh gods you were so annoying

you had this stupid little smirk whenever you hit a bulls-eye and it infuriated leo to no end

once everyone got a little more familiar, you'd start to make little comments

little jabs at his aim, his stance, everything

and it wasn't like he could say anything about your archery

so he devised a plan

he spent a whole night creating an archery machine that could fire arrows at whichever target he pointed at

it had pinpoint accuracy and could hit a bulls-eye from a hundred metres away

he sauntered up to the archery range the next day with his contraption under his arm

the stupidly cute, cocky apollo kid was already there, lining up a shot and loosing it just to the left of the bulls-eye

he waved

'well hi there, how ya doin' today?'

you eyed the machine suspiciously

'...fine, i'm fine. what the hell is that?'

he laid it on the ground in his lane and pat it affectionately

'this, hermosa, is my way of passing this archery class'

you rolled your eyes at the nickname but your attention was absolutely focused on him and the machine

leo felt a little flushed under your attention but also kind of liked it?

'so, what does it do?'

he knelt down by it and looked up at you, grinning as he pushed the button

the machine almost unfolded and took shape

you took a half-step back, looking impressed and also slightly alarmed

'does not answer my question, what the fuck does it do?'

leo stood and pointed at his target

an arrow whistled through the air and landed dead in the centre of the target

your eyes were wide and leo relished the look of surprise

you stammered, face swapping between leo and the target

'i don't think that counts, you didn't actually shoot the arrow'

leo winked

'it counts. or at least, it doesn't not count. all i have to do it shoot ten arrows and have them land in at least the inner two rings and i pass. no one said i had to actually use a bow'

'he's right'

chiron's voice made you both jump

you whirled round

'what? i learnt how to shoot the perfect shot, he gets a machine to do it and somehow, that's equal?'

leo scoffed

'well you hardly had to learn, you've got apollo powers'

you stepped towards him

'and you're a hephaestus kid, machines aren't exactly tricky for you'

neither of you noticed chiron walking slowly away

'everyone else can shoot an arrow like a normal person, why do you get to use an overgrown catapult??'

'because i'm good at this! i can't shoot an arrow for shit, so i did the thing i'm good at and now i can pass this stupid class that i got stuck with'

you were face to face now, only a few inches between you

'the hell you mean you're stuck with? was this that insufferable to shoot a fucking arrow? to be next to me this whole time?'

leo faltered

'...i-i mean... you weren't... i didn't mean-'

'what, leo? what is your problem?'

he froze

you were so close

he could see the exact colours of your eyes

and oh my gods you were so gorgeous

'...leo? are you gonna say anything?'

he shook his head and closed the few inches between you, sealing his lips on yours

you gave an adorable 'mmmpf!' noise

but you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him closer

you broke away after a moment

'still insufferable?'

he grinned

'a little less so'

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i hope you enjoyed!

#leo #leo valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagine #child of apollo!reader

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ashenberry · 3 years

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me n my friend made a silly roleswap au back in like. January. Apollo and Klavier are swapped but they keep their personalities.

[image ID: an eight page comic featuring various characters from Ace Attorney

1: Trucy and Klavier are behind the defence attorney bench. The text below it reads “I believe this brings the cross-examination to a close. Trucy perks up as Klavier looks downward, as the text continues with “This court will now declare a verdict for the defendant—Wocky Kitaki,” It’s then cut off by Trucy sighing, and a loud scream that shocks Klavier

2: Trucy, who is crying, is held at knifepoint by Mr. Hat. He says with a black speech bubble “Nobody move! There will be no verdict in this court. Not yet.” Klavier, confused, responds with “HUH?” He starts sweating and whispers “What are you doing? You don’t think anyone’s gonna fall for this do you?”

3: Apollo Justice, motion blurred, starts rushing towards Trucy with an outstretched hand, which shocks both her and Klavier. His scream trails off the page. Mr. Hat jumps away from him with Trucy and says “If you don’t want to see me give this pretty little girl a new smile, do as I say! Adjourn the court for 20 minutes!” The Judge, worried, responds with “Consider it adjourned!” Apollo waves his hand at them wildly, his other hand now on the bench

4: Taking place “immediately after”, Klavier walks through a door, and Trucy exclaims “There you are!” She follows it up with “Did you like my little trick (tongue-sticking-out emoji)” He responds with “I can’t believe it worked. Why did you even do that in the first place?” She responds “‘Cause you’re drowning out there man! Completely off your game. What happened! You were so on top of everything yesterday!”

5: Klavier starts scratching the back of his head, uncertain, “I don’t know. Maybe we’re wrong? Maybe Wocky is really guilty.” Trucy responds “Don’t say that! You just gotta keep digging! It’s like what daddy always says! Just keep bullshitting!” Klavier, now serious, then asks “Wasn’t that man disbarred”, to which Trucy retorts with “Yeah but it wasn’t for bullshitting.” He then asks “What is forgery if not bullshit?” Trucy’s swearing is censored.

6: Trucy waves her hands and says “That’s besides the point!” She points at a nervous Klavier and tells him “YOU—are holding back! I know you see it too! Something’s just not adding up! Your just afraid to go for it!” She puts down her finger and continues “You’re a performer! Trials are a performance! Just! Keep! Bullshitting!” Her swear is censored again. Klavier looks to the side, uncertain, and the background in his panel is grey

7: Klavier looks at Trucy and mimics her hands, telling her “C’mon I can’t just “wing it”. It’s a court of law Trucy.” She rolls her eyes and smugly retorts “Oh please—It’s a court of clowns! Piano man.”

8: She gives him a thumbs up and says “Alright? Sweet. Now if you don’t mind me—” She starts walking through a door and waves goodbye ”—I’ve gotta apologise to prosecutor Justice. He looked really upset.” Klavier is sweating. End ID]

Thank you @violet-ruu for the id!!

#TO QUOTE MY FRIEND #“Roleswap but they’re the same person just slightly different jobs”#It’s funny Sue me #aa4 spoilers #apollo justice #Apollo justice spoilers #Klavier Gavin #Trucy Wright #my art uwu #ace attorney

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be-a-snake-stab-your-brother · 3 years

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Re: the Hawkeye trailer and the Steve Rogers musical...

I'm just imagining our favorite 100-something year old crumudgeon ex-assassin getting stuck in Midtown for some reason. Maybe he's on a Wilson family outing in New York. The boys want to see Times Square, but Sam has to head uptown for a press conference at the Apollo and Sarah's across the river catching up with friends in Jersey.

Ugh. Jersey.

And so Bucky's stuck on babysitting duty, stuck in the horror that is 21st century Times Square, a place he would never go of his own volition. Behave, Sam had told him before heading uptown. Grab a picture with Elmo, he had smiled, clapping Bucky hard on the shoulder before disappearing into Times Square Station.

Damnit.

Bucky supposed it could be worse. He could have had to go to Jersey.

And he's behaving. Really. The Winter Soldier would already have punched out at least two Elmos and knived a suspiciously aggressive Big Bird. Okay, so maybe he elbowed the yellow monstrosity with his vibranium arm when the bird-man (why was his life full of people overly-obsessed with birds?) tried to corner Bucky and the boys into taking a photo. And maybe AJ and Cass had asked, Uncle Bucky, what's wrong with Big Bird, as the gargantuan lout doubled over, trailing greasy feathers into an overcrowded Starbucks.

That guy? Bucky had pasted on his most charming smile, dropping his consonants in a pale imitation of a long-forgotten accent. Probably ate something from one of those sketchy hot dog carts, he pointed across the street. (Bucky would have doubled over, too. Six bucks for a Nathan's, un-frickin-believable. Hydra should have subjected him to that to begin with and saved them all the time and trouble.)

He steers the kids up 7th avenue, past a throng of humanity crowded around a pan flute ensemble battling with some break-dancers, hanging a left onto 44th, doing everything in his power to traingulate a wide course around the Applebee's that so proudly announced itself on 42nd Street.

Applebee's, he scoffs. Christ. These tourists come all the way to New York to eat at freaking Applebee's.

And that's when he sees it looming on the horizon. The bright, bumblebee banner accompanied by a tinny rendition of some third-rate Sousa march, the whole thing engulfed by a small army of tourists taking selfies as if their lives depend on it.

Rogers: The Musical! The facade proclaims in impossibly patriotic lettering.

"What the fresh hell is this?" Bucky mumbles, eyes rolling so hard he thinks they might come out the back of his head. (Not possible, an unhelpful voice reminds him. Hydra tried that. Multiple times.)

"Woah, Uncle Bucky!" AJ exclaims, tugging at Bucky's sleeve, pulling him towards the florescent, gaping maw. "I thought Steve Rogers was on the moon?"

I wish I was on the moon, Bucky grits internally as AJ and Cass whip out their phones almost as fast as the Winter Soldier could pull a knife, snapping photos of the cast, of characters that look suspiciously like Sam and Rhodey and that bastard Stark, rest his soul and all the rest of them. He does a quick once-over of the mural. No sign of a metal arm and the only person with long, dark hair seems to be wearing some freaky set of golden horns.

Bucky counts it as a win.

He stares at the eyesore of an advertisement as the boys continue to take videos and photos and livestream superhero poses and whatever else kids their age do on the internet. (He still isn't entirely sure what the hell a TikTok is and doesn't want to know). Bucky situates himself behind a seven-foot high replica of the damned shield that's been erected in front of the theater. It's enough cover to not be caught on camera, but good enough vantage to keep an eye on AJ and Cass.

He needs a plan. And not a Star-Spangled one.

On one hand, (Heh...hand. You're becoming a regular comedian in your old age, Barnes.) burning down the theater is probably on the exhaustive list of actions that would get his pardon immediately revoked. But that's only if he was caught. Which he wouldn't be. He was better than that, he was the damned Winter Soldier, after all.

Bucky rubs at his forehead, cursing under his breath in Russian. No, scrap that. Arson was never his preferred method and he doesn't want to put a whole bunch of underpaid, overworked actors out of a job. He's an (ex)criminal and an (ex)terrorist but he's not an absolute asshole.

So. Nothing illegal (it's not illegal of you don't get caught) and no one can get hurt (but everyone's gonna get hurt watching this thing. Me in particular).

"Uncle Bucky!" Cass calls. "Want to take a selfie?"

He'd rather buy one of those six-dollar hot dogs and swap tongues with Elmo. "That's okay, kid. Knock yourselves out." The last thing Bucky needs is his ugly mug in front of Steve's shitty musical blasted across the internet.

God damnit, Stevie.

A quick search on his phone provides some measure of relief. Rogers: The Musical isn't set to open for another few months and tickets are already sold out for the next year. Bucky's certain Sam could get them in (hell, Sam will probably get a gold-plated invitation to opening night), but it allows Bucky time to make a plan, maybe even arrange a convenient disappearance into the wilderness for a while. He can say he's getting back to nature as part of his recovery. Or something like that. The Alaskan tundra can be very nice in winter, he supposes.

Several months later, Captain America - aka Sam Wilson - attends opening night of Rogers: The Musical with his family in tow. Sarah is resplendent in a long, shimmering violet dress, smile wide, eyes twinkling as she talks to reporters about her nonprofit ventures in Louisiana. AJ and Cass, all dolled up in their miniature tuxedos, can't stop tugging on each other's sleeves as they walk down the red carpet to the flashes of paparazzi, striking Captain America poses to the delight of the gathered crowd.

And if Bucky is somewhere up in a forgotten projection booth, having easily evaded multiple layers of federal and private security, tapping his foot along with "Star-Spangled Man with a Plan?"

No one would ever have to know.

#i saw the hawkeye trailer and this is the only thing i could think about #bucky barnes #sam Wilson #sarah wilson #aj wilson #cass wilson #crumudgeon somewhat murdery bucky is my favorite bucky #also as a jersey native i am allowed to shit on jersey #i was possessed by thr holy spirit of writing.good lord #this is my first shot at bucky please.be kind

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letapollojusticesayfuck · 3 years

Note

"the way you flirt is shameful." Klavier (klapollo) and ema ?

"short fics," I said, like a liar.

anyway please enjoy almost 2k of Klapollo Nonsense.

Send me a random line of dialogue and some characters, and I'll write a short fic!

---

Another grey morning, another lukewarm cup of coffee. Apollo pulls his coat a little tighter around him, scowling at nothing in particular. It’s just his luck, isn’t it, that this week’s defendant is a fisherman, accused of murdering their boat’s captain out on the docks.

It’s also just his luck that it’s March, and he hadn’t even thought anyone would be out on the water this early in the year. Shows how much he knows about the fishing industry.

He jumps when an arm lands around his shoulders, and has to fight to keep his awful beverage from sloshing entirely out of its styrofoam cup. With an irritated huff, Apollo turns to reprimand his unexpected company, but the words die in his throat when he looks over to see Klavier Gavin—and, more specifically, the woolly hat perched on his head. It appears to be lovingly hand-knitted, in a shade of purple he’d swear he’d seen in scraps of wool lying around the office in previous weeks. It also happens to be emblazoned with Gavin’s ridiculous logo, the angular G as distinctive as ever.

“Uh…” he says instead, eyebrow raised in what he hopes is a skeptical, yet bewildered expression. He’s not sure he succeeds with that, though, considering the way Gavin’s casual smile crooks up at the edges into a more genuine grin.

“Ja, Herr Forehead? How goes the investigation?” Lazy curls of steam rise from the stainless steel travel mug clasped in his hand, dissipating into the pervasive fog that’s blanketing the docks. Typical. Apollo considers asking him if he’d like to swap drinks.

“Cold. Damp. And is this a good time to mention that I’m allergic to shellfish? I think that’s probably an important detail, considering….this.” he replies, poking an errant mussel with the point of his dress shoe. His dress shoe that he’s for some reason wearing to a crime scene out by the harbour, because Apollo has misplaced ideas of professionalism, apparently.

“Ach, it’s not that bad! For one, you have my company to brighten up your day! And for another thing...I have news for you about the case.”

“Really. And it’s not just going to be something that you’ll immediately rescind in court tomorrow?”

“HerrForehead, what kind of prosecutor do you take me for? We’re on the same side, you know—both seeking the truth.”

“That’s cheesy as anything.”

“But correct! Anyway. FräuleinSkye has just uncovered something tangled around one of the fishing lines on the boat, and she’s attempting to piece it back together. If you hurry, you might get a glimpse before it goes straight into the evidence dossier.”

Apollo hmms, considering. He’s not sure he wants to just take Klavier’s tip-off; it could be seen as collusion under some circumstances. But he’s really not accomplishing anything on his own, and any new evidence could help him prove Annette Sloop’s innocence.

He also realizes, belatedly, that Klavier still has his arm around his shoulders, and that he’s been unconsciously leaning into the warmth of the taller man’s down jacket.

“Okay, sure—it’s gotta be better than anything I can find here,” Apollo decides, and tries to subtly extricate himself from Klavier’s grasp without drawing attention to the fact that he’s actually found some kind of comfort in their proximity, that he’s really not particularly enthusiastic about losing his human space-heater.

Luckily, Klavier realizes that he’ll have to grant Apollo his freedom if he wants the shorter man to be able to take advantage of his newly-gained intel, and drops his arm back to his own side. Apollo stifles a shiver as the cool, damp air rushes back against him, clinging to his skin with a pervasive chill.

He’d assumed that Klavier had business to take care of on the dock, so the fact that the prosecutor follows him as he boards the fishing boat takes him by surprise. What also takes him by surprise is the intensity of the fishy aroma around the vessel, something that Apollo really should have considered as a factor beforehand. He wrinkles his nose and tries to breathe shallowly—and when that doesn’t work out, he buries his nose in the collar of his jacket.

And that brings with it its own set of problems, because somehow the short amount of time his jacket was in contact with Klavier’s own was enough to allow the other man’s sandalwood cologne to seep into the thin fabric. Apollo wishes this wasn’t his life. Isn’t this the kind of stuff teenagers write about?

Luckily, his panicking is cut short by Ema Skye clearing her throat from the other end of the deck, midway through spreading fabric scraps onto a plastic folding table. She appears decidedly unimpressed, but waves them over.

“Justice. I take it you were informed of the recent developments by the fop here?” she remarks, as disinterestedly as possible for someone who’s practically vibrating with the excitement of being able to do something actually forensically significant.

“Er...yeah, Klavier told me that you’d found something?” Apollo replies, trying to look as though he understands more of the situation than he actually does. He thinks he pulls it off. If not, Ema doesn’t comment on it.

Klavier, however, smiles impossibly wide at Apollo’s words, and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s because he’d called the man by his first name, as opposed to his more professional title. A slip of the tongue, nothing more! And yet…

If it’d get a reaction like that, Apollo might start using Klavier’s first name significantly more often.

“Oh, come on, do neither of you actually care about this T-shirt I found? This apparently-bloodstainedT-shirt?” Ema taps her foot against the plank wood of the ship’s deck. Apollo breaks out of his thoughts with just about enough time to look marginally interested in the new evidence—which he hopes is convincing.

And it’s not that he doesn’t want to solve the murder! It’s really just that—well, Klavier is just there, being distracting, like he always is—except it’s worse, recently, somehow. Apollo swears he used to be able to spend time focusing on other things, that he wasn’t always this preoccupied with what the prosecutor was doing, where he was standing, if he was looking at--

“Oh, for God’s sake. The way you flirt is shameful,” Ema says, entirely exasperated. She also seems to be looking at Apollo, for some reason.

“Are you talking to me?” he asks, confused. The detective rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically, visibly resisting the urge to throw up her hands.

“You, him, both of you! This used to be almost funny, you know, watching Gavin be all glimmerous in your direction and seeing you shut him down. But recently you’ve been playing into it and—you know what? I’m done! You don’t get to listen to my stunning forensic breakthroughs until you’ve sorted your shit out, because I just can’t be doing with this. It’s ridiculous. Why can’t you just act like adults?”

The outburst is followed by Ema Skye whirling around, the sensible shoes she’s wearing clacking against the ship’s deck. Halfway to the door to the crew’s quarters, she remembers that she’s left all her forensic materials spread out next to where Klavier and Apollo are standing, and backtracks with increasingly evident frustration.

“You know what? I’m not leaving! You two—off my ship!Go figure yourselves out, and I won’t tell you about this case-changing evidence until you’ve stopped acting like this.”

Apollo’s a little taken-aback—not the least because he doesn’t think that he’s been doing any flirting, especially not with Klavier. He’s been hiding his feelings far too well for that—right?

Klavier looks at him and shrugs, motioning with his head that they should retreat the way they’d arrived. It’s not necessarily the most dignified thing, climbing off a boat in shame after being reprimanded by the detective on the case.

Once they’re back on “solid” ground (as solid as one can call a fishing boat’s dock, anyway), Apollo turns to Klavier.

“So, what was that about? I’ve never seen her that angry.”

Interestingly enough, color rises to Klavier’s cheeks. “Well...I think that, perhaps, she’s...misinterpreting the situation?”

And if Klavier’s strange statement hadn’t been enough to tip Apollo off that maybe something strange is going on here, there’s the familiar pinch of warm metal against his left wrist, his bracelet constricting at the taller man’s fib.

And—they know each other well enough, by this point, that all Apollo has to do is level an unimpressed stare in the prosecutor’s direction, and deadpan “Klavier” with all the air of a man who is taking no bullshit for an answer, for him to deflate and give up, shoving a hand in his back pocket awkwardly.

“Ugh. Okay. Erm. So, HerrForehead, this wasn’t...exactly...unprovoked. It’s possible that FräuleinSkye has been on the receiving end of many conversations about how I would like to….uh…”

It’s quite something, seeing Klavier at a loss for words. Apollo hadn’t thought that the former rockstar could look as awkward as he does now, the hand not trapped in his pocket fiddling with a loose strand of his hair.

He really, really tries not to think about how endearing it is.

Klavier seems to have reached a point, however, where he’s just decided to say things and worry about the consequences later. So Apollo’s contemplations are brought to a screeching halt when the man sighs, flips his hair, and stares at him straight-on, enunciating with perfect clarity:

“Apollo Justice, would you like to go out with me? On a date? Because I must say, I’ve been trying to find the best way to ask you for a while now, but unfortunately all I’ve succeeded in doing is, apparently, annoying the FräuleinDetective until not even Snackoos are a valid enough weapon.”

And—this isn’t the setting Apollo had pictured, in his often-hastily-repressed daydreams about Klavier asking him out. For one, he’d not quite imagined the quantity of fish, or the less-than-steady footing. But Klavier looks so earnest about his request, and Apollo can’t deny the way his heart’s skipped a beat, the way he’s almost petrified to say anything just in case this isn’t real—and so, he takes a deep breath, steps forward, and twines his fingers with Klavier’s.

“You know what? I’d love to. I’ll go anywhere you’d like—with the exception of a sushi restaurant” Apollo smiles, hesitantly at first, and then more genuinely as he sees the softly disbelieving expression on Klavier’s face.

“Really?” the prosecutor asks, and isn’t that incredible—that Klavier Gavin had been worried about being turned down. Apollo can’t quite believe it himself, yet.

“Yeah, really,” he says, smiling up at Klavier, who beams down at him in return. He feels the other man squeeze his hand briefly, and can’t quite contain the impulse to lean in closer to him, consciously this time, sharing both warmth and physical contact in a meaningful way.

When they return to the fishing vessel, Ema takes one look at the two of them and narrows her eyes, proceeding to mime nausea at the way they’re still holding hands.

However, she does follow through on her promise—and by the time they’re ready to leave the crime scene, both Klavier and Apollo are fairly certain of the next day’s trial’s outcome—as well as of the location of their post-trial dinner date.

#lucy's thoughts #my writing #klapollo #thank you for the prompt!!#mogoliz #ask #asks #ask game #sorry these are taking me ages!!#you might have noticed that they keep getting away from me #also i am going to be on an island for five days starting tomorrow #so i will be very slow in answering the other two i've got sitting in my inbox #just know i am getting around to them!!#i will just have to write them out on paper rather than on a laptop #and then type them up later

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aknosde · 3 years

Text

Omnes Una Manet Nox

The chronologically first installment of my Reyna Swap AU, Alea Iacta Est // Reyna Avilla Ramírez-Arellano // Fluff & Angst, but minor on the angst // the night before Reyna disappears // tw: mentions past minor character death // light swearing // 4.4k

ao3

—————

“That went well, didn’t it?” Jason asks with that familiar, absently intense energy. They’ve just descended the steps of the Senate after their monthly meeting with the consuls.

The two consuls, in their late thirties, oversee all of Camp Jupiter. Of course, the legion manages their own grounds and budget, under Jason and Reyna’s command, but the little oversight they do get is from the consuls.

Johnson was one of New Rome’s praetors, a few years back. He doesn’t care much about the legion, being from a legacy family and largely skirting his training and service, and he never ceases to make that known. Malhill is the one that always gets under Jason’s defenses. He’s good on policy, good on veterans, good on kids, everything that they could want. But he was the legion’s champion only ten years ago. A direct son of Apollo, a talented archer but an even better bender of light, a legion praetor, and he’s had his eyes on Jason’s career since day one. Reyna’s seen the way he eyes Jason whenever she and Jason are in New Rome, already pegging him for a consul position once Jason’s old enough.

“It went well, Jace,” she says. “Your mission plan is flawless, the only thing that could make them happier is if you’d go on it.” She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth.

Her remorse is tangible, visible in the line of his spine, the way he taps the place in his pocket where Ivlivs would sit if they were not inside the Pomerian Line, the subtle flick of his wrist.

Not for the first time, she thinks about Mount Othrys. Everything it took from her. Sometimes when she sleeps–not often, but enough–it plays over in her head. But something is always wrong.

She’s leading the charge, but suddenly it’s Jason next to her instead of Michelle. Or Jason and Michelle run into the throne room, but when she closes the door behind them it locks. She makes it into the throne room, slaying all of the Dracaena, but when she enters Atlas is holding Jason over his head, instead of fighting him hand to hand. On the good nights, Michelle isn’t dead when she bursts through the door, on the bad, she watches Michelle die. The one constant is Jason, gold ichor dripping down his face in a horrific mask. When she and Jason land the killing blow, together, she can always see it.

He doesn’t talk about it, of course. Not about Michelle, not about his election, not about the mountain. But she can see it weighing on him through the big things, like how he hasn’t been out of camp borders since the battle, and the small things, like how he glances up at the stars, as if one will come down and crush him any moment.

She rolls her right shoulder, feeling the ligaments shift, as if it will rid her of the thoughts, prepare her for a topic of conversation that often hits a little too close to home.

“Did you hear how Johnson pronounced my name? He’s even worse than you.” Maybe the small huff of a laugh Jason expels is worth it. “‘Miss Ramírez-Arellano,’” she continues, in a nasally imitation of the consul.

“I don’t say it that badly.”

“You say it like a white boy who didn’t know Spanish was a language until two seconds ago.”

“Ramírez-Arellano,” he says, better than consul Johnson, but she still hates hearing it. That girl is long gone, the only thing connecting her to Reyna is Hylla, and although Reyna loves her sister, she’s grateful for the distance that keeps Hylla from being a constant reminder.

“‘We were– were very, erm, dazzled, by your most recent proposition.’” She continues the impression until they are walking through the Praetorian Gate, Jason half hanging off her shoulder and giggling like they’re thirteen again.

He has a nice laugh. A friendly one. It seems to feed off of her volume, her effort, fluctuating the longer he goes. He shouts at her to stop several times, but he’s doubled over in armor, snorting, and all she wants to do is make him laugh like this forever.

It only gets worse on the steps of the Principa, when he decides a good revenge plan is to trip her. The building is dark like the rest of the legion. Two lamps, invisible under the light of day, flank the double doors, but the light is faint and barely makes its way to the stairs, washing everything in a pale yellow. She side steps his foot–his sneakers have reflective decals on them for the sake of the gods, he’s an idiot–but he’s shifted his weight so much that he ends up tripping himself.

They stumble through the doors, still chuckling, and make their way across the great hall as quickly as possible. They must have gotten a new tender for the Principa, because the lights are off like they forgot that people actually live here. Only two people, but still. The darkness makes the place unsettling, and now she’s counting on Jason to keep her occupied. A job he seems all too willing to fulfill as he runs through the next set of doors, still in full armor, clashing against the wood.

Upstairs is worse, she decides. The abandoned lounge reminds her of her childhood living room. Any moment her father could rise from one of the low couches, ready to scoop her up and throw her in her room, that crazed look in his eye.

Something clangs and she jumps.

“What the heck is this?” Jason’s whisper-shouting when she catches up with him in the hallway outside their rooms. He’s partially on the floor–hands keeping him from being face flat–and something is crinkling under his knee.

For some reason all Reyna can say is: “Did you just say ‘heck?’”

“Shut up,” he whines, and she wishes the lights were on just so she could see his ears turning red.

“Of course, farm-boy.”

He’s sitting back on his heels now, she can see the object’s dark outline as he holds it up, rustling in his hands.

“Seriously, what is this thing?” he asks, looking up at her.

“A bag with my old clothes,” she says, squinting. “I was going to see if any legionnaires need some.”

“And you have it by your door so you don’t forget,” he says, explaining for her. In the stress of running for office, of war, she forgot the ways in which they are attuned to each other. She forgot that she doesn’t have to explain and defend her every little action to him. It’s sad that it’s taken her almost two months to remember.

He sets the bag back down, nudging it into almost its exact spot, and hefts himself to his feet with a sigh. His brow furrows once he’s standing, looking out into the middle distance, but he sees the quirk of her brow and quickly explains himself, “We have that meeting with the centurions tomorrow after breakfast.”

Jason is a social person. A true extrovert. He hates being alone, working alone, and the quiet that comes with both. So what he’s really saying is that he has work left to do and wants some company. And who is she to deny him that? “Do you want to work in the main hall, office, or my room?”

He grins, clapping his hands and then raises his palms to the sky. “Bedroom, praise Fortuna.”

“Five minutes, Sparkplug,” she says, bumping her shoulder into his own as she sidesteps him into her room. His eyes follow her as she goes, like she’s his North Star, and damn him for making her heart skip a beat, because in the empty space Venus’ words always echo. She stomps them down, before her face can fall, before the hollow silence can fill the hallway, and in their place she jams a smirk. “If you’re lucky I’ll even edit your speech.”

As her door clicks behind her she can hear him groan, “I just prayed to Fortuna.”

She stands with her hands on her hips, briefly surveying her room to decide what to do first.

Being praetor has its perks, like private bath and bedrooms across the hall from her best friend and king sized beds, but it also means she is no longer in the practice of keeping her space ready for inspections. Her comforter is pulled up, but her bed isn’t made, files are scattered across her desk and on her dresser, and her wardrobe is wide open.

She decides on doing everything at once, which involves a crooked path across her room as she shucks off armor, not bothering with her armor stand, and changes out of the nice clothes she wore to meet the consuls. All the while she turns on lights, puts on sweats, makes her bed, and tucks away files.

Jason knocks on her door five minutes later, that ever punctual bastard, just as she’s zipping her hoodie over her tank top.

“Help me, Reyna,” he says, holding a typed copy of his speech out to her in both hands like some sort of trophy. “You’re my only hope.”

She snorts, snatching the pages out of his hands. “Nice reference.”

He cocks his head to the side, brow furrowed, and she bets if he were actually a wolf one of his ears would be turned as well.

“You just made a Star Wars reference,” she says, but he looks just as confused.

“What’s Star Wars?” He asks warily.

She swears to herself in Spanish, because otherwise he’ll tease her about the legion’s anti-swearing policies, collapsing dramatically back on her bed, and sighs. “It’s a movie trilogy, wolf boy.”

“Ah.”

Another thing she forgot, apparently, is how little Jason knows about basically anything outside of camp. He says he arrived when he was three, and wasn’t even allowed into the city until he was eight, which apparently means he’s never been to a movie theater.

By now he seems used to her telling him about the more innocent aspects of the mortal world, and at the very least takes his lack of knowledge in stride. If only he would watch the movies and shows she’s downloaded on his laptop for him.

When she looks up after reading his introduction he is sitting at her desk, picking at some invisible blemish while subtly putting highlighters away, and looking around her room.

“If you start cleaning I’m throwing you out.”

He grumbles to himself, but she makes out a yes ma’am somewhere in the mix, so she decides to throw him a bone.

“If you want to occupy yourself I have a speech about legion veterans you can fact check,” she says, faux casual, not that he can tell. He needs to do something before he starts picking at his nails instead of the wood.

“Sure.”

“It’s in one of the red folders.”

“Would that be the one on the floor under your desk or the one on your dresser,” he says, sounding far too cheeky.

“The one on my dresser, and stop pretending you’re better than me, asshole.”

He clutches his chest dramatically, walking to her dresser. “Better than the best? How could I be?”

“Mmmhmm,” she responds, half ignoring him in favor of his speech, aware of the ticking clock.

It’s truly impossible for him to stay awake past ten, a fact that is only proven the next time she looks up and he’s asleep at her desk, pen still in hand and a research paper opened on her laptop. No matter how often she reminds him that the regimented lights out of the legion no longer applies to them, he just can’t seem to break the habit.

“Jason.” She nudges his shoulder, extracting the pen at the same moment so he can’t smudge her speech.

His head jerks, eyes alert, but voice groggy when he says, “What’s going on?” All legionnaires wake up in a similar manner, but for some reason it only strikes her as amusing when he does it.

She hadn’t thought of what she was waking him up for, besides a need to do it, and her mind wanders to the Forum, wondering if her favorite café would still be open at this hour. She’s starving, she realizes. Their meeting with the consuls had been pushed back and they had had to skip dinner to make it.

She grins. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”

“Roof s’mores?”

“Reyna,” he drags out the last syllable, fading it into a sigh. “That takes energy.”

“Okay, but–” She holds her hands out, weighing them. “Would you rather spend the energy to just walk across the hall and go to sleep, or climb up to the roof with me and roast us a couple marshmallows?”

Jason looks at her like is that a real question? which had been her intention. She folds her hands into a pleading gesture and pouts emphatically–he’s always more flexible when she acts a little silly. “Please, Jace. I got that cheap chocolate you like. I’ll even get the stuff myself, you can go straight up.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes and she smiles, satisfied, and already on her way out the door.

The praetorian kitchen reminds her of office break rooms on television, besides the fact that it looks perpetually unnatural, mostly due to the fact that only three people go inside–her, Jason, and the Principa tender–and it’s always pristine. The only things actually kept in there are coffee, tea, and of course: her and Jason’s secret stash of s’more supplies, buried in the back of the cabinet with the untouched bowls.

By the time she’s through the roof access door, conveniently placed to hide it from the view of anyone on the ground, Jason is already sitting by the dark spot of ash that signifies their pastime. Because, yes, they started coming up here long before either of them were elected Praetor.

He’s a dark outline against the night sky, sitting criss-crossed and looking down at the façades of the other legion buildings, and briefly she has the thought that somebody could make a painting out of this. She slides her old Camp Jupiter ID back between the lock and door jamb, willing the thought to disappear with the potential of the fire alarm going off.

She shivers as she sits next to him, nose wrinkling with the cold now that she’s fully vulnerable to the elements. Without a word Jason removes his sweatshirt and passes it to her.

“I’m already wearing one.”

“Mine is thicker, trade me.”

And because he’s Jason, she does.

It’s slightly big on her, his shoulders just a few inches broader than her own, and a forest green. On the back is a printed vine of purple flowers and a date. She recognizes it as one of the prizes of the Ludi Florae, or Games of Flora, from Floralia last year. The festival sits right between April and May, and last year’s was the grandest of all. Or so Jason says. Everyone had been anxious about Mount Othrys, and apparently all of that energy had been funnelled into the events.

Reyna herself had been busy running for praetor. All she remembers from the festival is campaigning. And Jason, running up to her looking flushed, this sweatshirt thrown over one shoulder.

“Remember when I told you that you were the best, Jace,” she says sweetly once she is safely swaddled in his hoodie. He’s right–it is thicker.

Jason grins up at her, wrapping his hands around two marshmallows. “I may recall something along those lines having been said a long, long time ago.”

“Well, I just want to inform you that I retract that statement, because this sweatshirt is ugly and the cuffs are burnt.”

The electricity that had been slowly coursing over the ridges of his fingers flares for a second, and his hands fly open as if he was handed metal straight from the forges. “Oops.” Both of the marshmallows are burnt, but his lips are turned up in a poorly concealed smirk.

“I forget you’re a heathen,” she says primly, sticking her nose in the air instead of saying any of the less wholesome options at the back of her throat.

“Does liking burnt marshmallows make me a heathen?”

She pretends to mull it over for a second, extracting the rest of their supplies. “Yes. You have to buy the next bag because you’re mean and I say so.”

She takes the burnt marshmallow regardless, sandwiching it between her own chocolate and graham crackers. Jason takes three squares of the Hershey bar he likes for absolutely no good reason, and does the same. She shakes her head. He’s the fucking all American boy who sticks with the classics even when he doesn’t know they’re the classics. She has no idea how he does it.

They don’t talk while they eat, regrettably the silence reminding her of her childhood, no matter how hard she pushes against it. She looks up at the stars, trying to forget the cold kitchen, cold house, even in hundred degree heat. It’s times like this when the ring, and the chain she wears it on, weigh heavy on her neck.

It feels like a noose right now, just as much as it feels like freedom, like power, every other second of her life. Like a sentence, compelling her to pay for her crimes, to confess to them, to wreck her world so terribly that she would lose up from down and die. A fair punishment.

“What are you thinking about,” Jason asks a while after they’ve finished. She looks at him, sitting back on his hands, looking at her, not the sky. It’s dark on the roof, but the light from the street lamps seems to center around him. It glints off his hair, visibly blond even in the night, and pours into his eyes. They’re always so blue. So blue it looks fake. But they never cease to pull Reyna in. Sometimes she swears she can see lightning arc across his irises.

He’s always asking her questions like this. Innocent and curious, no ulterior motives, no goals. He genuinely wants to know. And if she doesn’t answer, he’ll drop it, because he always does. It’s not something she’s used to, even after all these years; this place she has in his mind, if not his heart. A place of utter respect. He doesn’t question her because he knows what she is thinking, and when he doesn’t, he accepts her. Would he still, if he knew what she did to her father?

She breaks his gaze with that thought. It’s too much. “My sister,” she says instead, and it doesn’t feel right to look back. Under oath, Reyna would say that Jason is the most important person in her life. Her best friend; the person she sees every day, talks to every day, eats with and works with. He is the closest thing she has to a family here. And she– And she loves him. Maybe as a little more than a friend. But talking about her sister while looking him in the eye feels too intimate, too intense. “She would like you.”

It is something to say, simply to say something, but maybe she isn’t wrong. There is something in Jason that reminds her of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, and not in the way that haunts her nightmares and twists her sheets around her until they become bonds she can’t quite break free of. Being on Blackbeard’s crew, that’s how Reyna learned hard work, in a way she never had before. It had instilled a drive in her, to change everything, to rewrite systems, to make something so beautiful it was unrecognizable. And perhaps Jason doesn’t have that same drive, but he knows the work. He goes out of his way to do it dirty and hard and long. He refuses to take the thousands of shortcuts he’s offered. And Hylla would admire that, she thinks.

“I had a sister,” he whispers.

For a second–just a second–she’s stuck. “What?”

“I had a sister.” He picks at a loose thread on his jeans for a moment, and that’s how she knows he’s serious, because he hates ripping his jeans more than almost anything else. He’s refusing to meet her gaze. “Thalia Grace.”

He says her name soft and tender. She can imagine him, standing over a hearth, cradling the name between his palms and looking at it the same way he first looked when he was gifted Ivlivs. Big, round eyes.

“That’s really nice, Jace,” she says, because he rarely surprises her, and for once she doesn’t know what to say.

He looks up at her, smiling tightly. His eyes are sad. Is that how she looks when she thinks about Hylla?

“You can tell me about her, if you want,” Reyna says when the moment becomes two, and then three, because Jason doesn’t bring up things he doesn’t want to talk about. But Jason also has his own ideas about debt, about worthiness, and it is clear to her that he told her about his sister in exchange for Reyna talking about her own.

He smiles at her. A real smile, if small. She feels warm, and it’s not from his extra thick sweatshirt.

“I don’t remember a lot about her, but… She had black hair. So dark, like the night. And her eyes, they were amazing. Bright blue, like a perfect sky. Sometimes I can see them, in this half-memory half-dream, and they’re so strong they look like how an electric shock feels.”

“Like yours,” she whispers, and Jason hums in a way that makes it frustratingly unclear if he heard her or not. She hopes not.

“When I was little,” he continues, after another moment of staring wistfully over the Twelfth Legion, “I used to imagine she was looking for me. That one day she would find me, here, be proud of me for– I don’t know what. Love me, or something. All that stupid shit.” He trails off again, picking at his nails, but she can’t bring herself to chide him.

There are things that she knows about Jason, true as the sun rising in the east and the pull of the moon on the tides and the sound of imperial gold on whetstone. She knows that he works hard, works with the public, flushes under the compliments of people older than him because he has never had a concrete parental figure. Not even one to hate, to fear, to mourn. She knows that he never trusts praise from these people because he knows his parentage, knows they know, knows that he is connected to his father in the eyes of these people in a way he doesn’t feel himself, and never will.

Truths of Jason that are pillars in her understanding of him, that were pivotal in their relationship. But like so many supports, they were never acknowledged. Truth has no need to be stated, and she has no compellence to state that which is unnecessary. He talks of Thalia, telling Reyna that he wants his sister to want him, to find him, and to love him not because he is a son of Jupiter, but because he’s him.

She doesn’t say, I don’t care about you because you’re the son of Jupiter, I care about you because you are my best friend. And she doesn’t say, I care about you because you listen to people, because you care about them and what happens to them so instinctively that I cannot understand it. She doesn’t say, I’m proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

She doesn’t say those things because he knows them, because they are truths, and truths do not need to be said.

But still, something must be done.

She– She’s always been bad at the physical things. She can do a handshake, a fist bump, but she has never been a hugger, no matter that Jason is. She’s never managed a hip-check, or a shoulder pat, or ruffled his hair in any way that wasn’t rough and meant to hurt.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t try.

She goes slow, leaning over slightly, feels the cool breeze breaking on her knuckles. Gently, perhaps more gently than she has done anything in her life, she takes his hands, detangles them, presses her finger pads against the bleeding bits where he’s torn his skin away. She closes her hands around his own, cups them in her palms.

He looks up at her, tears welled on his water line but nothing has spilled, and she feels his hands move in her own, feels him latch on, like when they were young and late for assignments, running across the grounds and refusing to leave each other behind. She looks into his eyes, wide. Electrifying. Just like she knew they were.

She waits for the moment to stretch and break, like moments oft do. Her last move is to give his hands a squeeze, hopefully reassuring, and he gives her another small smile and moves to wipe his eyes with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, the one he’s still wearing.

“We should probably be going to bed,” she says, because she doesn’t have anything else to say. He laughs, wetly, but in that way everybody laughs when they’re told something they already know. It makes her smile; it’s special when he does it.

Everybody isn’t wrong, she thinks as she and Jason part ways outside their rooms, Jason Grace is special. But not because he is the son of Jupiter. He’s special because Reyna had never wanted friends, and here he is, her best. He’s special because he does things, normal things, and they make her smile. He’s special because he does everything in his power to ensure he deserves the love he receives. And gods, she thinks, does he deserve it.

She slips off her necklace and gets under her duvet cover, curling up and fiddling with the cuffs of his sweatshirt. Chunks of the polyester-wool fabric are hard and melted from undoubtedly unfortunate rendezvous with electricity. She finds one, right where his thumb would rest, and rubs it between her own thumb and index finger as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, she’s on a school bus.

—————

Others in this series: Amicus Certus in re Incerta Cernitur

#there's more info and clarifications in the end notes of ao3 so check those out #but i'm always happy to answer any questions about any of my writing #especially this series #chart writes #fic: Omnes una manet nox #jason grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #Reyna!Swap au #alea iacta est #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo fic #hoo fanfic #hoo #pjo #pjo fanfic #tw death mention #reyna ramirez arellano #riordanverse

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pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid · 3 years

Note

The Hermes kids probably swap out the Apollo kid’s regular sheet music for Never Gonna Give You Up instrumental sheet music 🤚

THE BIGGEST RICK ROLL FOR THE YEAR.

This was an incident that would go down in CHB’s history.

Prank wars turned into a real civil war. Between Cabin 11 and 7

This gave rise to the annual CHB sports tournament.

Camp Jupiter heard about and thought it was a cool idea so they helped CHB make an arena.

The events include: A marathon, relay, Climbing the Lava wall, javelin throw, archery, and Lastly capture the flag.

It takes place once a year.

Even the CJ campers can participate. And some people can even come watch it.

Honestly this would be so cool

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bevioletskies · 3 years

Text

(and i’m lost) in a daydream

summary: Napping together, in Klavier’s opinion, is one of the most romantic things a couple can do. But, he has to admit, staying up all night with Apollo to talk about nothing in particular is pretty good, too.

word count: 5.4k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day six of seven (prompt: "sleep"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings, but doesn’t reference any specific plotlines otherwise. Fic title is from the song Daydream by The Lovin' Spoonful.

“Why are your feet still so cold? You’ve been lying here for like, ten minutes already!”

“Don’t question my blood circulation, baby, it’s rude.”

“I - what?” Apollo shook his head incredulously as he snuggled deeper into the mattress, pointedly moving his feet away from Klavier’s. “You know what? Never mind, I’m not even gonna ask. Just when I think I finally get you…”

“I’m an enigma, liebling. Hard to understand,” Klavier deadpanned, adjusting the covers so Apollo was snug underneath his duvet, weighted blanket, and faux-fur throw. Apollo seriously questioned how his boyfriend’s skin could be anything but blazingly hot with enough sheets on top of him to legitimately smother someone.

“You? You’re about as deep as a puddle on a freshly-paved road.” Klavier pouted exaggeratedly; Apollo leaned over to kiss his trembling bottom lip with a teasing grin. “Kidding, kidding. How could I possibly question the depth and breadth of someone who writes songs like 13 Years Hard Time For Love and Gonna Lock U Up? Clearly, Guilty Love is your magnum opus - ”

“You are so mean to me,” Klavier whined, wrapping his arms around Apollo’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “How are you still one of my favorite people in the world, achtung.” Laughing, Apollo buried his face against Klavier’s neck. “But...you’re not wrong about Guilty Love. It’s obviously my best work.”

“I prefer The Guitar’s Serenade myself,” Apollo mumbled into his hair, slowly detangling himself from Klavier so he could get a good look at him. He felt deliriously tired for some reason, like he’d been worn out to the point of restlessness. Strange, considering it was just like any other day; there was nothing that would’ve made him more exhausted than normal. Klavier seemed to be that way, too, blinking sleepily at Apollo with a wide grin, more lazy than flirtatious. “...hi?”

“Hallo.” Klavier kissed him again. “We should sleep, it’s late.”

“It’s barely ten,” Apollo pointed out.

“It’s late,” Klavier repeated, throwing an arm out across the pillows. Apollo took that as his cue to move in closer once more. “Some people need their beauty sleep, Apollo. We can’t all be fresh-faced, rosy-cheeked engels like you.”

“Now I know you’re tired, ‘cos that was complete crap,” Apollo said, poking Klavier in the cheek. “Have you seen this pimple on my chin? Look, Klav. It’s big enough to have its own legal system.” Klavier half-snorted, half-yawned. “Why’re you so tired, anyway? I thought you said you had a power nap at work, which is definitely not something you should be doing.”

“Herr Edgeworth can manage without me for twenty minutes, ach,” Klavier said derisively. “And I like a good nap, but it’s no substitute for sleep. And besides, it’s...it feels nicer, going to bed, when I have someone to share it with.”

“You are nauseating,” Apollo informed him, kissing him more intently this time. “...but I get what you mean.” He pulled back, swallowing. “Trucy and I were talking the other day about, like...stuff we missed out on by not growing up together. Y’know, family trips, home movies, falling asleep in the same bed...or, at least, that’s what I think it’s like. I wouldn’t know.”

Klavier went silent for an unsettlingly long time. “...it’s not all bad. Having a sibling. Until you look back on it and start to question all the...you know what, never mind.” He shook himself before he could finish his sentence. “You make a pefekt older brother, baby. Though you’re more like a little big brother, now that she’s taller than you.”

“By half an inch!” Apollo protested loudly, prodding Klavier more insistently now. “Look, her dad has the height gene - ”

“And your dad had the ‘loud voice’ gene, I hear.” Klavier took Apollo’s hand in both of his and brushed a kiss across his knuckles. “Well, thanks to you, mein kleiner sirene, I’m definitely awake now.”

“Asshole,” Apollo said affectionately. “So, what, you wanna get up or something?”

“Nein, not at all.” Klavier rolled onto his side, bringing Apollo’s hand to his chest. Apollo could feel Klavier’s steady heartbeat beneath his fingers. “Let’s just...hang out, ja? We can talk until we fall asleep, just like we used to when you were working in Khura’in. Or, more recently, just the other day.”

“Emphasis on ‘day’ - we were s’posed to be helping Ema finish the decorations for Kay’s surprise party!” Apollo spluttered. “That was not a good time to take an accidental nap.”

“Well, entschuldigung for wanting to reflect fondly on a nice memory we shared,” Klavier griped, poking Apollo in the stomach. “For a moment there, I forgot I was dating the most pedantic man on the planet.”

“We’re lawyers, we’re pedantic for a living.” Apollo poked him back. “Hell, you got mad at me just the other day ‘cos I accidentally swapped two of your face serums or whatever - ”

“My skincare routine is a delicate ecosystem, baby, you can’t just move things - ” Klavier then cut himself off with a long exhale. “Nein, nein, we’re not getting into this again. I don’t like being mad at you. It’s unfathomable, really.”

Humming, Apollo used his free hand - the other was still being held against Klavier’s chest - to gently run his fingers through Klavier’s hair, brushing it out of his face. It was silky smooth and tangle-free, naturally; Klavier had a whole wealth of products he used on his skin and in his hair to maintain their quality. He still hadn’t forgiven Apollo for telling him that his own skincare routine consisted of nothing but St. Ives’ apricot scrub and Ponds cold cream (“At least let me buy you an actual cleanser, ach. And don’t tell me you don’t wear sunscreen!”).

“What’re you thinking about?” Klavier said quietly, finally releasing Apollo’s hand so he could cup his jaw, his thumb brushing across Apollo’s bottom lip. “I can practically see the little hamster wheel turning in your head right now.”

“Shut up,” Apollo murmured, playfully nipping the tip of Klavier’s thumb with his teeth. “I’m not thinking about anything, actually. Which is kinda nice, not gonna lie. I don’t have, like, a million pieces of evidence flying around in my brain for once.”

“The benefits of date night after a trial is over, ja?” Klavier said. “We can enjoy each other’s company without...conditions. Though to be fair, you were right when you said we shouldn’t spend nights together while we’re working the same case. Separate the lover from the lawyer and all that.”

Apollo groaned. “I hated that saying when you came up with it, and I still hate it now.” Laughing, Klavier moved closer, neatly tucking his head underneath Apollo’s chin. He pressed a kiss to Apollo’s collarbone, winding his arms around Apollo’s waist. “One of the many things I gotta put up with, I guess.”

“You love it,” Klavier mumbled against Apollo’s chest. “You think I’m so clever - ”

“Rewind to about five minutes ago when I said you’re about as deep as a footprint on a hardwood floor,” Apollo said wryly, pinching Klavier’s waist so he would look up; Apollo ducked down to kiss him. Grinning, Klavier deepened the kiss, letting out a pleased hum as he did so. “...I don’t totally mind putting up with you, though. Wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“I’m still not completely convinced you aren’t here for my mattress and heated floors.” Klavier began pressing open-mouthed kisses along the crook of Apollo’s jaw, savoring the smell of Apollo’s shampoo as he went. “From what you’ve told me of your apartment, it sounds like an absolute nightmare. A complete schreckgespenst.”

“Gesundheit,” Apollo murmured, tilting his chin upwards to give Klavier better access to his neck. “Yeah, my apartment sucks. The only reason I’d want you to come over is so you can finally meet my cat. Hell, he’s a nightmare and a half on his own.”

“Is this the same cat I’ve heard you refer to as your son?” Klavier asked, sitting up slightly. “The one who you said eats more expensive food than you do - ”

“One and the same,” Apollo replied with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, fine, you caught me. I’m only dating you ‘cos you have air conditioning, a flatscreen TV, and food that isn’t frozen.”

The laughter that escaped Klavier’s mouth was near-hysterical; his exhaustion was getting more and more obvious by the minute. “And here, I thought you actually loved me. My mistake.” His laughter was swiftly cut off by Apollo’s lips on his, his breath hitching when Apollo quickly turned them around so he was now straddling Klavier’s hips. “So was I right after all - ”

“I can’t believe we have the exact same stupid sense of humor, you make me so angry,” Apollo said breathlessly between kisses. “God, I love you. You’re the worst. The absolute worst - ”

“You and your mixed messages.” Klavier moved his hands from Apollo’s waist to his backside, gripping him possessively; Apollo’s back arched at his touch, anticipatory. “Your thoughts are as confusing as your logic, you know that?”

“This is the part where you say ‘I love you, too’, not ‘I think you can be stupid sometimes’, you asshole,” Apollo retorted, grinning.

Klavier leaned in close, his lips brushing against Apollo’s ear, his voice low and warm and more than a little bit sensual. “Ich liebe dich mehr jeden Tag.” Apollo shivered with pleasure. “Ich kann nicht ohne dich leben. Liebst du mich?”

“Ja,” Apollo whispered, kissing Klavier yet again. “You know that I do.”

_____

Fifteen minutes later, Klavier reluctantly detached himself from Apollo long enough so he could get up and crack open a window; his bedroom had gotten noticeably warmer, and it wasn’t just because they’d spent the last ten minutes making out like teenagers with a limited window of opportunity.

“Warm,” Apollo grunted, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt. “It’s so warm - Klav, can we please get rid of at least one layer of bed covers already? I have no interest in getting roasted anymore than I already do.”

“Fine, fine.” Klavier rolled up his faux-fur throw, then disappeared briefly into his walk-in closet so he could set it aside. When he returned, Apollo was sprawled out like a starfish on top of the duvet, his fingers and toes brushing the edges of Klavier’s California king bed, staring up at the ceiling with an exhausted, yet blissful smile. “Er...you okay, baby?”

“Excuse me for enjoying the cool air,” Apollo huffed, smirking when Klavier crawled on top of him once more, knees braced on either side of Apollo’s hips. He automatically reached up to run his hands along the sides of Klavier’s waist, his touch warm through the thin fabric of Klavier’s t-shirt. “...hi. Can I help you?”

“Nein, you’re just fine where you are.” Klavier leaned down to kiss him, then rolled onto his side, letting out a contented sigh. “What do you think, are you good to sleep now?”

Apollo snorted, nudging Klavier’s thigh with his foot. “You’re the one who has a self-imposed bedtime, you tell me.”

Klavier propped himself up on his elbow, then ruffled Apollo’s unstyled hair, sweeping it out of his face. “I was thinking about what you said earlier, actually. About the things that you and Trucy missed out on sharing together.”

“...ah.” Apollo’s expression grew serious. “What about it?”

“Do you think…” Klavier hesitated. “It’s just, you grew up as the younger sibling. Not by much, natürlich, but you were still the younger one. Do you think you would've preferred being the older sibling instead?” He let out a bitter laugh that made Apollo’s heart ache. “Not that I’m projecting, of course. Nein, not me.”

“Oh, Klav,” Apollo sighed, wrapping his arms protectively around Klavier’s shoulders and pulling him into his chest. “And...I dunno, I don’t think it’s really comparable, you know? Nahyuta’s barely a year older, while Trucy’s a whole seven years younger...besides, it really comes down to personality and, like, compatibility. Would I be the same person if I grew up with Trucy instead of Nahyuta? Probably not. Hell, definitely not.” He then snorted. “I mean, for one thing, I wouldn’t be living in the mountains.”

“I’m still not convinced when Herr Sahdmadhi tells me he doesn’t have any other pictures of you two lying around,” Klavier chuckled, his laughter causing the mattress to tremble. “Papa wants to take up scrapbooking, by the way, and he’s been asking me if I have any gut photos of you. Ach, it’s like my parents already decided you were their son-in-law the moment we started dating.”

“I think it’s sweet...a-and a little intimidating,” Apollo admitted. “No pressure, right?” Still, he snuggled in even closer, legs loosely wrapped around Klavier’s hips. “But your parents are great, I’ll see if I can find some photos for your dad. I'm sure I’ve got something in those boxes I brought back from Khura’in that I never bothered opening.”

“Sounds like someone needs to do a little spring cleaning,” Klavier teased. “But danke, baby. It’ll certainly be interesting, seeing our childhood photos side-by-side. Me with my hot pink braces, you with your...what was it, pet rabbits?”

“So many rabbits,” Apollo said forlornly. “We didn’t have the means to stop them from, y’know. Procreating. So, uh, think I’ll stick with my neutered cat any day.”

“Did you have a favorite?” Klavier asked; he seemed much more relaxed now, though Apollo couldn’t help but wonder about his earlier comment, if it was worth mentioning at all. “I had a favorite hündchen. She was very stupid.”

“Nice way to talk about your favorite childhood pet,” Apollo snorted. “Though I frequently brag about how much of an asshole my cat is, so I guess I’m one to talk.”

“Nein, like - she was the kind of dog who ran into glass doors and barked at her own reflection,” Klavier explained, biting back another laugh. “Her name was Sascha, and she was this darling cream-colored retriever who loved to sleep on my legs every night. I would always wake up with numb toes.” His smile then turned sad, melancholy. “The first time I tried a weighted blanket after she passed, I...I almost cried. It had been so long since I had that feeling, you know? Like someone was hugging me while I slept...keeping me safe.”

“Babe,” Apollo said softly, gently cupping Klavier’s face.

“Mir geht's gut,” Klavier reassured him, placing his hands over Apollo’s. “It’s a nice memory, that’s all.” He cleared his throat, making small, soothing circles on the backs of Apollo's hands with his thumbs. “So, your favorite häschen?”

“Well, they were wild rabbits, so it’s not like they were ‘ours’, exactly,” Apollo said thoughtfully, leaning into Klavier’s touch. “We didn't give ‘em names or identifying marks, so we got them mixed up all the time. But there was one little guy who was a real piece of work. If I didn’t feed him fast enough, he’d bite my fingers. I had a weird soft spot for him.”

Klavier raised an eyebrow. “...you have a strange relationship with your pets, liebe.”

“Hey, maybe he was my favorite ‘cos he reminded me of me,” Apollo said defensively. “Just like how your favorite dog liked sleeping on your legs. You sure like hogging the bed, after all - which is an incredible feat, considering this is a California king.”

“True,” Klavier agreed. “You do remind me of kätzchen, sharp nails and all.”

“I accidentally cut you with a broken fingernail while holding your hand just one time,” Apollo sighed. “So, do you have pictures of Sascha? I’d love to see her.”

“At my parents’ house,” Klavier said, smiling softly. “I’ll have to break out the photo albums the next time we drop by.”

Humming, Apollo lowered his head to Klavier’s shoulder, half-burying his face against Klavier’s neck. Klavier’s hands moved to Apollo’s back, tapping out rhythmic patterns along his spine. They stayed like that for a while, quiet, almost zen-like, with the occasional breeze whistling in through the open window. Finally, after a few peaceful minutes, Apollo began to shiver, the hairs on his arms and legs prickling from the cold. “...it’s getting pretty windy now. Maybe it’s time for us to actually try to sleep?”

After closing the window, the two of them got back under the duvet, Klavier playfully prodding Apollo’s bare legs with his literal cold feet. Apollo countered him by aggressively poking Klavier’s cheeks with his frozen fingers, only stopping when Klavier begged for mercy. “You’re a cruel one,” Klavier sniffed despite the fact Apollo was now rubbing his face to warm him back up.

“And you’re such a diva,” Apollo said affectionately, pecking him on the nose. “Remember that one time we went to get poké and they didn’t have furikake? You honest-to-god pouted like a kid who didn’t get their favorite ice cream flavor.”

“I know what I like,” Klavier huffed. “And speaking of which, between the way you talk about Mikeko and the way you talk about me - are you sure you actually like us, schatz?”

Apollo softened somewhat. “To borrow a phrase from you - you know you’re, like, one of my favorite people ever.”

“I would hope so,” Klavier murmured, nudging his face against Apollo’s neck. His fingers then slipped underneath Apollo’s t-shirt so he could feel his warmth, feel the softness of his skin. “That’s something my parents used to say, actually. Back when they were in school, when they wrote each other love letters. ‘You are my favorite star in the sky’, Mama would write.”

“Did they end up keeping those letters?” Apollo asked. “It almost sounds like you’ve read them.”

“Nein, I could never,” Klavier protested. “It’s their private correspondence, after all. They just read me some of the nice bits, the poetic parts. I’d write you a poem myself, if I didn’t think you would absolutely hate it.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t hate it.” Apollo kissed the side of Klavier’s head. “I’m just not big on performative romance, y’know, big displays of love that seem to be for people that aren’t part of the relationship. But this right here...it’s more my speed.”

“I can tell,” Klavier hummed, kissing him. It wasn’t long before the two of them found themselves distracted again, caught up in each other’s embrace. Despite seeing plenty of each other over the past few days, Apollo couldn’t help but - privately - admit that he’d missed being able to see Klavier as his boyfriend, not his rival. Every time Klavier smirked at him from behind the prosecutor’s bench, he had to remind himself that he usually preferred to kiss him, not slap him. “...we’re never getting to sleep, are we?”

“Keep your shirt on, Gavin,” Apollo mumbled against Klavier’s lips.

“Not what I meant, but I like where your mind is at,” Klavier teased. “Besides, a bit hypocritical of you when you have your hands on my ass, ja?”

Apollo quickly withdrew his hands as if he’d been burned, ducking down underneath the sheets so Klavier couldn’t see how red his face had become. “Sh-shut up. It was just more convenient to hold onto than your waist, that’s all!”

“My ass is more convenient than my waist, you say? That’s a new one.” Klavier pulled back the duvet with a mocking grin. “Ah, there’s my favorite forehead. Where’s the rest of you, hm?”

“I hate you so much,” Apollo groaned, reluctantly crawling back out. “Why do you even start calling me that, anyway? It’s not like we were talking about my forehead, it was the location of Dr. Meraktis’s bullet wound!”

Klavier looked at him thoughtfully, his head cocked. The dog-like resemblance was becoming more and more apparent by the second. “Honestly? I don’t actually know. All I know is, I wanted to give you a cute nickname, and it just...stuck for one reason or another. And you have to admit, your hair makes your forehead quite...prominent.”

“Cute nickname?” Apollo repeated.

Now Klavier was staring at him more incredulously than anything else. “...I know we’ve talked about this before, but could you really not tell I was flirting with you from the start? Granted, it wasn’t meant to be anything serious until after our first case together, but still.”

“Oh,” Apollo said faintly, slumping back against the headboard. “I, uh...I honestly thought you were just making fun of me.”

“Achtung,” Klavier remarked, trying his hardest not to laugh. “Maybe it’s time we take a trip down memory lane and see what you thought I was doing. For my curiosity’s sake, if you don’t mind.”

Apollo yawned and stretched. “Hell, why not? It’s not like we’re sleeping anytime soon...apparently.”

_____

Thirty minutes later, the two of them were sitting cross-legged on top of Klavier’s duvet, trying their best not to touch anything with their still-wet nails. Apollo wasn’t a fan of having painted nails - not that he didn’t like nail polish itself, it was more the fact that chipped polish bothered him - but he liked letting Klavier do them, liked the feel of his boyfriend’s soft, gentle fingers as they tenderly held his own.

“Wait, wait, wait - you only said that you didn’t think Athena was my type ‘cos you wanted to know if I was single?!”

“I thought that was obvious,” Klavier said, sighing. “How are you so clever and so unobservant at the same time, ach. My boyfriend, the walking contradiction. The man who helped rebuild an entire legal system, the man who can’t tell when someone is asking him to dinner. You truly are a wonder, liebe.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me - ”

“My mistake, clearly. I should have just walked right into Themis, wearing a neon sign that says ‘Ask Me About My Romantic Feelings for Apollo Justice’.” Klavier snorted at the incredulous look on Apollo’s face. “What, too subtle?”

“I just can’t believe you were into me for that long,” Apollo admitted, his voice small. “Like, if you really thought I wasn’t interested...why didn’t you just...stop?”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Klavier turned away for a moment to delicately blow on his nails, pointedly avoiding Apollo’s eyes, then reached for his bottle of Seche Vite. “Remember what you said to me once? About...feeling your feelings before realizing you even have them. After all, it’s not like feelings are just something you can turn on and off, like a switch.”

“I got pretty good at doing that, actually,” Apollo muttered. “Compartmentalizing, I mean.”

“That’s not the same, though, is it?” Klavier said gently. “Pretending not to love you and not loving you are completely different things. I could act like a carefree flirt all I wanted, but...at the end of the day, my heart was always set on you.”

Apollo bit back a grin. “You are such a sap, sheesh. But I hear you. Sorry I made you wait around, I guess.”

“Don’t be,” Klavier murmured. “I’m just glad we got here in the end, you know?”

“Same.” Apollo leaned in to kiss Klavier chastely on the lips, both of them still taking care not to touch each other or the bed. “So, now that we - ” But before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a short, but loud grrrrr. “...Klav?”

“Achtung,” Klavier said, staring down at his stomach in surprise. “I guess we should’ve ordered more dumplings, after all.”

“Or you shouldn’t have let me take the last one,” Apollo pointed out, laughing. “Okay, okay, after we’re done here, we’re raiding your fridge.”

Another fifteen minutes later, they found themselves sprawled on top of Klavier’s duvet once more, this time with two empty bowls that once held ice cream sitting on his bedside table. Apollo’s eyes were closed in contentment as he hummed a little something - some strange combination of The Guitar’s Serenade and something else he couldn’t identify - only for him to jolt slightly at the feeling of Klavier’s cold fingers on his skin.

“Ah - babe, your hands are freezing - ”

“Sorry.” Klavier didn’t look all that sorry as he pressed a sticky-sweet kiss to Apollo’s stomach. “What’s that you’re humming, liebe?”

“I...I don’t actually know.” Apollo furrowed his brows in confusion. “It feels like something I’ve heard over and over again, but I couldn’t begin to tell you what it is. Weird, huh?”

“It almost sounds like…” Klavier then began to hum it himself, tapping out the rhythm on Apollo’s thigh. “...like a lullaby of sorts. Maybe that’s why you’re mixing it with The Guitar’s Serenade.”

“A lullaby?” Apollo repeated. “Wait, you don’t think it’s something that...I mean, Mom told me this story the other day that…” He swallowed thickly. “...she said my dad used to sing to me, like. All the time. Apparently, Mom would come home from work and find him making dinner, and he’d have me on his back in one of those baby wrap things, and he’d just be...singing. Bouncing up and down to the beat to make me giggle.”

Klavier placed his hands over Apollo’s heart, lightly resting his chin on top of them. “That sounds like a wunderschön sight to come home to. Your papa must have been an amazing man.” Apollo shot him a rueful smile, running his fingers through Klavier’s hair. Then, after a moment’s consideration, he separated a portion of it from the rest and began to braid it almost mindlessly, instinctively, resuming his quiet humming. “Ah - you know how to braid hair?”

“Muscle memory,” Apollo explained, continuing to braid. “I liked keeping my hair short, but Nahyuta experimented with growing it out all the time. Aesthetics and beauty are a big part of Khura’inese culture, so he liked switching things up, even though we were never around anyone but...but Dhurke. I learned how to do braids and buns and stuff so he could have a different hairstyle every day.”

“Maybe I should seriously get you to do my hair sometime,” Klavier mused, right as Apollo tied the ends off. “We’ve got that work event next month, maybe then.”

“Hey, I’m no expert,” Apollo chuckled, leaning back to rest on his elbows and admire his handiwork. It wasn’t quite as neat as it used to be, but even in the middle of the night, even with his sloppy attempt at a simple braid, Klavier was still one of the most beautiful people Apollo had ever seen. “But if you let me practice on you, maybe I will be.”

“As long as you don’t pull all my hair out while you’re at it,” Klavier said, preening.

Apollo continued to laugh; then, his expression grew sober. “...is it weird that I think about, like...if I should miss my dad or not?”

Klavier frowned. “Why is it weird?”

“Because I shouldn’t have to think about it, right?” Apollo said, shrugging. “Like, either I miss him...or I don’t. And it’s not like I can tell Mom, ‘cos she loved him, and she misses him all the time, but I...I…” He inhaled sharply. “...I didn’t know him. Not really. So, uh...how do I miss someone I never knew?”

“Well...maybe it’s not about missing him, per se,” Klavier offered. “Maybe you just...miss that you never got to know him. That all your mama’s stories are just that - stories, not memories. And you wish you had the chance to make your own.”

Apollo shot him a soft smile. “You got all of that out of one train of thought, huh? Though...you might not be wrong. It’s kinda like the whole ‘what if’ with growing up with Trucy versus growing up with Nahyuta, y’know, only with...with my dad. What if things had gone completely differently? Would it be better, worse?”

“You seem to be thinking about family quite a lot these days,” Klavier commented. “What’s on that beautiful mind of yours, hm?”

Apollo shook his head. “I meant what I said earlier - nothing, really. It’s just the kind of thing my mind comes up with at - well, it’s not that late, but still.” He then bit back a smile. “Would be, uh. Would be kinda nice, though, wouldn’t it? If that really was dad’s lullaby I was remembering, that I still - that I have a piece of him still with me?”

“Natürlich,” Klavier agreed. “You should sing it to your mama next time you see her, see if she recognizes it. Even if she doesn’t, it can become your version of The Guitar’s Serenade, for just the two of you.”

“I’d like that,” Apollo said quietly. Klavier squeezed Apollo’s thigh, then shuffled back up the bed so they were face-to-face, kissing Apollo chastely. “Hm...your lips are cold, too.”

“You could warm them up for me,” Klavier murmured suggestively; once again, it was his turn to grab Apollo’s backside, pulling him closer and closer until their chests were pressed against one another, his knee sliding neatly between Apollo’s legs. Apollo groaned at the cheesy line but continued kissing him regardless, his lips parting slightly so he could deepen the kiss. “What happened to us having the same stupid sense of humor, baby?”

“You still make me so mad.” Apollo captured Klavier’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging slightly with a wicked grin that made Klavier shiver. “It’s funny, whenever I complain about you to someone else - ”

“Which I suspect happens often,” Klavier commented.

“ - they always ask, ‘so why are you with him, then?’.” Apollo released him, nudging his nose affectionately against the underside of Klavier’s jaw. “And usually, I give ‘em some bullshit excuse. No need to tell them more than they have to know, y’know? But the actual answer’s pretty simple.”

Klavier smoothed Apollo’s hair away from his forehead, his thumb tracing a line across Apollo’s freckles. “Tell me.”

“Because it just...makes sense. Which doesn’t make any sense at all.” Apollo’s smile was so warm, so open, that Klavier felt as if he was falling in love all over again. “You get what I mean?”

“I get you, liebling,” Klavier said fondly, capturing his lips once more. “I’ve got you.”

_____

Sugar, sugar...oh, that night, in your embrace…

Apollo violently jolted awake at the sound of his ringtone, nearly tumbling right out of bed in the process. Groaning, he blinked blearily into the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, then threw his arm out in an attempt to grab his phone from his bedside table without getting out from under the covers. Instead, he ended up hitting something else entirely.

“Ach! Apollo, what are you doing?”

“Crap - sorry, Klavier,” Apollo winced, sitting up properly so he could rub the sleep out of his eyes. He then turned to pick up his phone, letting out an annoyed huff when he realized it was just an unknown number. “Great, spam calls. And at this hour?” He paused. “Wait...what time is it? Shit, it’s - Klav, it’s almost eleven!”

“Perfekt,” Klavier sighed, rolling back over and pulling the duvet over his head. “Another seven hours, bitte.”

“No, i-it’s eleven in the morning!” Apollo shook Klavier’s shoulder. “Babe, we gotta get up!”

“Why?” Klavier said, yawning as he reluctantly opened his eyes. “It’s the weekend, süßer, relax. Neither of us has anywhere to be, ja? I missed my morning run, sure, but considering we didn’t fall asleep until...ach, three? Four? I’m in no mood to work out.”

“But...shouldn’t we…” Apollo was swiftly interrupted by his own yawn. “...fine, fine, you have a point.” He collapsed back into bed, defeated. Grinning victoriously, Klavier pulled him closer, fitting him snugly underneath his chin. Apollo braced his hand against Klavier’s chest; his heartbeat was steady, comforting, beneath Apollo’s fingers. “Seriously, though, let’s never do that again.”

“I don’t know about that,” Klavier hummed. “Personally, I thought it was a night to remember.”

“A night to remember, not a night to repeat,” Apollo muttered. Klavier merely laughed, dropping his head to rest on top of Apollo’s, briefly turning to kiss his forehead. “Klavier…”

“I mean it, liebe,” Klavier murmured; Apollo felt his own eyes drifting shut at the sound of Klavier’s low, soothing voice, his muscles relaxing as his body melted against Klavier’s familiar embrace. “We have nothing to do today. Sounds like the right time to take a nap, don’t you think?”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get a few more hours,” Apollo mumbled into Klavier’s chest. “Early dinner after we get up?”

“Someone’s optimistic,” Klavier chuckled, rubbing Apollo’s shoulder. “Sure, baby. Now go back to sleep, okay?”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my sixth entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the fifth of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. This is definitely the most plotless fic out of the seven, which is just fine by me, since as I've mentioned before, I love writing dialogue between these two - especially when they're together and get to lovingly snark on each other. It gives me a chance to slip in some little headcanons here and there without worrying about connecting it to the actual plot. For some reason, I have this really vivid image in my mind of Jove holding Apollo on his back while singing along to the radio and working in the kitchen; I think it would be adorable (and a little heartbreaking).

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you’re all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #this one is no plot all soft lmao #i keep wanting to make longer versions of all my klapollo week fics whoops

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