#next time they see each other on that hill is when thalia wakes up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatringboy · 3 years

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Hey there!

Saw ur post bout wanting requests and I'm happy to oblige. Percabeth is my absolute OTP and so I would love to read some fics based on them, esp when you write them soo well🥺

1.I've always wanted to read a fic where Annabeth spoons Percy! I think that wud be so cute.

2.Or would love to see a fic where one of them cant sleep at night so they go do smtg spontaneous, like stargazing or roadtrip or trip to McDonald's hehe.

3.A prompt (if that's how you take requests): "Did you just kiss my Achilles Spot?"

omfgggggg the amount of fluff i shoved into this is almost puke level. but percabeth will never get to that level. anyways i decided to do all three prompts because i couldn't pick one. enjoy!

Stargazing in Grey

Warnings: Rachel Elizabeth Dare being a little shit, but we love her anyways (so in other words, none)

Characters: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Rachel Elizabeth Dare (but only for like two lines at the very end)

Ships: Percabeth

Word Count: 1,405

Summary: Percabeth sneaks out of their cabins to go stargazing and realize (again) how much they love each other. Takes place between the end of HOO and the beginning of TOA

“You know… we could have just taken some Melatonin or something.” Percy made a confused face.

Annabeth rolled her eyes despite knowing that he probably couldn’t see her do that in the dark. “And where’s the fun in that?”

“Who are you and what have you done to my rule-following Wise Girl?” His smile was audible in his voice.

She elbowed him in the stomach and fell back onto the grass of Camp Half-Blood hill, her grey eyes searching the night sky. Constellations danced across her gaze and a smile curled over her lips. Percy’s eyes adjusted to the night enough for him to be able to see her features illuminated by the moonlight.

Gods, she’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“What was that?” Annabeth sat up.

Percy realized he had whispered his thoughts out loud and plopped himself down in the grass next to her. “Nothing! So tell me, Wise Girl,” he pointed up at the stars. “Which one is that constellation?”

She laid back down and followed his finger to where he was pointing. “Oh, that’s just Heracles.”

Percy made a gagging sound. “Oh gods not that guy!”

That was the game they played: Percy pointed out a constellation, Annabeth identified it and they repeated. Percy told stupid jokes just to hear Annabeth’s laughter and he felt like he was walking on air everytime he heard it.

This was his Wise Girl, he realized. Starting from “you drool when you sleep” all those years ago and now sneaking out of their cabins at night to watch the stars when the nightmares became too much. Everything else in his life was fleeting and frankly at the mercy of ungrateful gods, but Annabeth was his constant. She was his tie to mortality when he dipped in the River Styx, she was the one thing he remembered when Hera stole his memories and sent him west and she was the one who held his hand in Tartarus when the world quite literally swallowed him up. And now that they had survived two Great Prophecies and were finishing up the summer in Long Island before heading to New Rome, the realization of how much Annabeth completed him struck Percy in the heart. She was the one who kept him humane when he wanted to unleash his destructive powers, she was the one who treated his wounds when he hurt himself against monsters and she was the one who curled up and cuddled him when the whole world was against them.

How in Hades was he so lucky to have fallen for her and for her to have fallen right back - quite literally in their case.

When they had finished their game, Percy found himself staring at her once more. He could examine her face for years and still find new things to fascinate himself with. If he was given Pandora’s box and told that the Hope at the bottom was Annabeth, he’d rip the lid off in a heartbeat and slay all of the monsters that jumped out with her.

She yawned, pulling Percy back into reality, and stretched her arms. “We should probably head back before Malcolm wakes up and flips on us.”

Percy pouted like a child and turned over in the grass to face away from her. “No! This was your idea and I wanna stay!”

Annabeth sighed and scooted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his back. “You’re such a child, no wonder you live with your mother at eighteen.”

He wiggled a bit so that he could turn his head to glare at her. “I’ll have you know that I missed half of being sixteen and half of being seventeen!”

She squeezed the skin of his stomach to shut him up and the two laid there spooning in the grass for a bit. Annabeth could feel his heartbeat and the way his lungs expanded when he breathed and sighed at the realness of it all. For six months, she was without him. After years of fighting by his side, he had just vanished and both of them were pulled into another Olympus-Destroying calamity that they had to fix. She had found herself cursing out the gods during that time, begging to know why did it always have to be her family that got messed over by the gods? For once, couldn’t someone else take up the mantle? Thalia had died then joined the Hunt, Luke was… well, Luke and all of the other campers moved on and away as time passed if they weren’t killed by monsters. Percy was the only constant she had and Hera had taken him away. Her Percy, the one who held up the sky for her. Her Percy, the one who fell into Tartarus for her. Her Percy, the one who held her tight when a curse had taken her vision and promised to never leave her. Her Percy, the one who turned down immortality for her. Annabeth hugged him tighter and pressed a kiss to his back. She was never letting go of him again.

"Did you just kiss my Achilles Spot?" He turned his head to look at her again.

She pulled her head back and blinked. It must have happened subconsciously while she was reminiscing about the past. “I guess I did, sorry.”

He rested his head on the ground again. “No no it’s fine, I just haven’t had anyone touch there in a while. I guess I’ve always protected it from people, even after the curse is gone.”

And that was another thing. His only weakness, the small of his back, he exposed it joyfully to her. He took his life and placed it into her hands because there was no one else in the entire world who Percy Jackson trusted more than Annabeth Chase.

She untangled herself and sat up. “But seriously, we should get back before the harpies start their pre-dawn rounds. Washing dishes in lava again does not sound like fun.”

He sat up with her and brushed a stray piece of grass off of her cheek with a wide smile. There was still a tiny sliver of grey hair from when they were younger and took turns holding up the sky. “Yeah… you’re right.”

“When am I not?” She leaned into his touch.

Inches, centimeters, touching. The only thought in Percy’s mind was how soft Annabeth’s lips felt against his own and how much she smelled like fresh ink on sunwarmed paper. Was that a scent? It was now. His calloused hands caressed her face like if he let go, she would crumble into sand between his fingertips and she eagerly gripped his shirt right back. For either the third or fourth time that evening, the whole world seemed to melt away. Two heartbeats became one, two souls linked together and two bodies pressed together in such a loving embrace that even Aphrodite herself would have turned away with a blush.

They came crashing back to the real world when the sound of a camera clicked behind them. The two jerked their heads to the sound to see a familiar redhead holding up a camera.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare!” Annabeth's voice came out as a harsh whisper.

The Oracle of Delphi cackled as she turned heel and ran down the hill towards her cave. Annabeth moved to chase after her, but Percy grabbed her wrist, covering his mouth with his free hand to keep from laughing. “Let’s just get back to our cabins before she goes leaking that to Lou Ellen and Piper.”

The daughter of Athena couldn’t argue with that. They gathered themselves and made the trek back to the Athena cabin. They stood outside the door, not wanting the moment to end, but also understanding that they both needed sleep. Annabeth moved closer and pecked Percy one last time on the lips before heading inside.

Percy made the walk back to the Poseidon cabin with a goofy smile on his face and was humming a tune who’s name he couldn’t remember. His Wise Girl had broken the rules and was ready to fistfight the Oracle of Delphi to keep it a secret. He was so proud of his negative influence on her. He silently made a vow to get that picture from Rachel to hang up in his room in New Rome. It would brighten up his dorm tremendously.

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cupofteaguk · 4 years

Text

i’ve seen the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice

FROM THE PETALS COLLECTION

[pairing] :: jungkook x fem!reader

[genre] :: percy jackson au + angst

[word count] :: 7.3k

[note] :: attempted a son of hades!jungkook storyline. vaguely inspired by nico di angelo’s character arc if you’ve read the books (because coughs well this use to be an unpublished nico di angelo fanfic don’t at me LMAO), but you don’t need to remember the character slash be an expert in the story to read this fic! Also this is a friends to lovers fic hidden behind my attempt to write a story of grief. pls enjoy!

When Jungkook is fifteen years old, he arrives at Camp Half Blood with pennies in his pockets, one Kim Taehyung on his back, and monsters on his tail. There are all kinds of creatures that have been following him for weeks—some with wings, some with clubs, but all with the intent of murder in their eyes as they chase Jungkook up the hill. Taehyung had warned him about this happening, that starting this journey would attract lots of unwanted attention from lots of dangerous half-breed monsters. Something to do with Jungkook’s scent, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.

In the beginning, Jungkook hadn’t known what to expect, hadn’t known what Taehyung meant by strange creatures and a camp just for him. Even right now, as he is running as quickly as his legs can take him with his lungs feeling like it’s about to burst—he doesn’t really understand.

What he does understand is that he has been alone his entire life. With a childhood filled with no father and a frightful mother, Jungkook has grown up spending time by himself in the company of his own thoughts and emotions. With such a strange (and lacking) family dynamic, it exposed him to lots of bullying and snide comments from peers, most commonly seen during school or walks home. The first half of Jungkook’s childhood is defined by this—by the teasing for being different, for failing classes, for being awkward and shy, for never knowing his place. The second half of Jungkook’s childhood is filled with sleeping on the streets, with stealing food at convenience stores, on how he’s been truly alone since he was thirteen.

That is, until Kim Taehyung corners him at the midnight strike of his fifteenth birthday—which leads the two of them to this current moment.

Jungkook doesn’t understand much right now. All he knows is that he needs to run.

As Jungkook approaches the top of the hill, he sees a group of people surrounding an archway. They’re all bundled up in gears of shields and swords, and each of them turn towards the boys as the monster thudding grows louder and Jungkook’s calls become more clear.

Half of the group near the archway break off, immediately making their way towards Jungkook and Taehyung. There are a few questions thrown here and there, before the main objective is just to make sure the boys get to safety. Taehyung’s weight gets distributed between Jungkook and another person, and together the bigger group makes their way across the hill. They cross a tall pine tree that Jungkook hardly notices, because he’s completely out of breath, wounded across his entire body, with legs that feel like jello.

Taehyung’s weight shifts entirely to the other person as Jungkook trips and falls to his knees. Quickly, Jungkook whirls around so his butt and his arms are on the ground. With his eyes directed towards the hill, his heart crawls up his throat as he sees the monsters making their way up towards him. His body moves before his mind does, his arms moving him closer towards the archway.

Someone settles themselves right behind him. “Woah, hey.” Your voice is soft, your hand between his shoulders is comforting. “You’re okay, you’re safe now.”

“B-But!” Jungkook stammers, pointing shakily towards the creatures now growing closer and closer to everyone. “Those monsters! They’re coming!”

As soon as he says that, the monsters stop in their path, right next to the pine tree from earlier. Their collection of beady eyes glare angrily down at Jungkook, their screams are hollow cries that press painfully against his ears. This conveyance of frustration continues on for a few seconds, before one by one the monsters turn around and make their way back down the mountain.

Jungkook’s breathing is frantic, along with his heart rate, as he watches the creatures disappear below the dip. “W-What the hell…?”

You angle your head toward in order for Jungkook to look at you—you wear an expression of softness, of understanding, and Jungkook momentarily sees stars.

That, however, could have also been from the excess oxygen in him, and the fact that one of those creatures had landed a swipe to his head.

You gesture to the pine tree. “You see that tree? That’s Thalia Grace’s tree—a long time ago, she and some of her friends were trying to get here, and Thalia sacrificed herself to ensure her friends could be safe. She was a daughter of Zeus, so he turned her into a tree that would protect the camp. Monsters just like those can’t get in anymore.”

Jungkook feels the adrenaline fading, along with his ability to follow conversations. Daughter of Zeus? Like, Zeus from those Greek mythologies? The camp? Had this been the place Taehyung told him about?

It’s all too much to keep up with. Jungkook faints before he can ask his question, in which the last thing he sees is your eyes, concerned and twinkling. He passes the thudding in his heart off as pure and utter exhaustion.

Jungkook wakes up on top of a white hospital bed a few hours later, head swimming and Taehyung situated at the foot. He offers a cup of something called ambrosia that immediately clears the headache. “Woah, what the fuck?” He asks, holding the cup away from him and staring at it with wide eyes. He looks over at Taehyung. “What is this? My headache went away as soon as I drank this. Also, it tastes like banana milk. Is this a dream?” Without waiting for an answer, Jungkook leans back and takes in his surroundings. He looks to be an infirmary, beds with white sheets along the walls and light shining in through the windows. There’s a few other people lingering about, hovering over occupied beds.

“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s soft voice pulls his attention back. “We’re in Camp Half Blood. You brought us here.” Taehyung’s smile is sad, but confident. “You brought me back, even though it was my mission to bring you here. Thanks.”

Jungkook stares. “So… you weren’t lying about the camp. T-This is all real?”

It is then that Taehyung explains everything to Jungkook. Explains that the Greek gods Jungkook learned about in class are real, and that sometimes they come down from Mount Olympus to mingle with mortals—which is where their demigod children come from. Demigods are part god, and therefore have enhanced physical ability as well as some level of control or skill over the realm of their godly parent. Taehyung goes over this information as slowly and as calmly as possible, but Jungkook still has trouble processing the information. In a way, it makes sense that Jungkook would be in this position. He’s always known he was different, always felt like he could never fully belong in the mortal world he spent so long occupying. He just could never label his feelings with a concrete answer.

Until now, that is.

Jungkook decides to ask Taehyung one more question. “Why couldn’t you explain any of this to me on the way over?”

Taehyung seems to be choosing his next words carefully. “As we kept going, you were attracting more monsters. That’s something that normally doesn’t happen, unless the demigod the creatures are tracking is one that’s insanely powerful. Like, a demigod that’s born from the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades. I read accounts of what happened to us happening to other kids that were born from any one of those three gods. I figured that the less you knew, the better. A demigod who doesn’t know they’re a demigod is a much less serious threat—your scent isn’t as strong as it could be if you know about who you are.”

Jungkook ponders this. “So my dad could be Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades?” He’s definitely heard of those gods. The ruler of all gods, and his two brothers.

Taehyung presses his lips together, leaning forward in his seat so his forearms rest on his knees. “Maybe,” He says. “It’s pretty rare, though, so I don’t want to give you an answer only for it to not be true. Only time will tell.” He must see the lost, the confused, the anxious look on Jungkook’s face, because Taehyung takes a seat on the edge of the hospital bed. “Hey, JK, cheer up.” The usage of his nickname makes the corner of Jungkook’s lips turn up. “While we wait for your dad to claim you, you can stay with me in my father’s cabin. My dad is Hermes. He’s a patron to travelers, so all campers who come here are welcomed until they’re claimed by their godly parents.”

Jungkook can only manage a nod at this. He still has many questions, still does not fully understand. With what Taehyung is telling him, Jungkook is not even sure he will belong here, or if he will be ostracized once again for being different amongst the different.

But he trusts Taehyung—so he’ll follow Taehyung.

Jungkook is at Camp Half Blood for a week before Taehyung is called for another assignment. It’s due to a prophecy given by the Oracle who lives on the campgrounds—the figure grants quests to campers to undergo a series of dangerous adventures in order to accomplish something for the long term benefit of demigods, the human race, the Greek gods themselves, anything of the sort.

In the case of Taehyung, he is chosen by fellow camper Kim Namjoon to join him in and travel west and retrieve stolen items from a museum collection. It seems like an easy quest. At least, that’s what Jungkook is told.

Kim Namjoon is a son of Athena, someone whom Jungkook met a day into his arrival at Camp Half Blood—friendly and smart and answers Jungkook’s questions about mythology with ease. It had been good when Jungkook first met the former, because he had many questions, some of which couldn’t be answered by Taehyung. Namjoon is someone that Jungkook immediately grows a fondness and admiration for—only leaving him that much more confident that the quest will go smoothly.

“You guys will be okay… right?” Jungkook asks Namjoon, as the latter is shouldering his backpack. He’s not the only person seeing Namjoon and Taehyung off on their quest, but Jungkook had been one of the first people to show up. After all, when your only friend is leaving on an adventure, it tends to bring in the worry and the anxiety. “And you’ll watch Taehyung, won’t you?”

“Of course I will,” Namjoon reassures, tight smile across his lips but he distracts Jungkook with a hand on his shoulder. “Taehyung and I have been doing quests together for a few years. We got each other’s back.”

Taehyung slides in next to Namjoon, glancing over at Jungkook with all the care in the world in his eyes. “Hey JK, just promise me you’ll do your best to be comfortable here, okay? Keep trying out those different skills we were working on, okay? Your dad will claim you, I’m sure of it.”

Jungkook looks down at his fingers, wringing the hands together. “I-I’ll try my best.”

Namjoon and Taehyung exchange glances, partaking in a silent language exchange, before Taehyung looks back at Jungkook. “I know someone who can help.”

Taehyung leaves Namjoon with his backpack before stepping away from the group, making his way down the hill back towards the camp grounds. Jungkook follows shortly behind. It’s still early in the morning, most campers are inside their cabins sleeping away the mist, but there’s a small group of campers near the archery grounds. There’s some laughter as a new person steps in to ready the bow and arrow. Jungkook watches as this new archer aims as the target, pulls back the bow, and—!

“Y/N!” Taehyung calls.

The person at the archery station flinches, sending the arrow a few centimeters away from the center of the target. You whirl around, and Jungkook’s stomach drops because it’s you—the person who helped him when he more or less crashed into Camp Half Blood.

You gape, still holding the bow in your arms as your eyes narrow into a glare as you continue to stare straight at Taehyung. “Kim Taehyung! Where are your manners!” You call out. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a quest now?”

Taehyung slings an arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “I need to borrow you for a second, it’s important.”

You seem to be saying something to one of your friends, because you hand the bow to a friend before walking over to the two boys.

As soon as you reach your destination, you look at Jungkook and give him a bright-eyed smile of recognition—one that brings him back to the first time he met you, when he saw stars. “Hey!” You exclaim. “I remember you, you came in with Taehyung last week. You looked like you had been through a lot—are you feeling better now?”

“I-uh…” Jungkook tries to form words.

“He had some ambrosia, he’s fine,” Taehyung cuts in kindly, sending Jungkook a look he can’t decipher. Taehyung goes on a momentarily rant, explaining that Jungkook would just need someone to help him further adjust to life at camp, as well as help him figure out who his godly parent was.

Taehyung says a lot of words, but Jungkook isn’t entirely paying attention. His gaze is fixed on you, taking in your easy smile and bright eyes. He can feel his eyes widen and the flush crawl up his cheeks the longer he lets himself look at you—yet, he doesn’t understand what it means. He’s never seen someone like you before, in his years of school and in his years living on the streets.

“So, I just need you to help him out. Hopefully his dad will claim him before we get back.”

“That’s something to look forward to,” You reply, sounding genuinely excited for that. You turn your full attention to Jungkook this time and smile. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to finally meet you!”

He takes your hand. Fifteen-years-old, and he wears his emotions in his eyes. “I’m Jungkook.”

Jungkook is at Camp Half Blood for three weeks when he starts getting nightmares.

Not only that, but it’s the same kind of nightmare—something horribly realistic and chaotic and messy but so painful that Jungkook finds himself waking up with tears dusting itself in his eyes.

It always starts off the same: Namjoon and Taehyung on their quest. They appear to be in a room of antiques, each boy looking cautiously at the collection around them, with their backs pressed against each other. There is a low hum in his dream, where the voices emit a low frequency and sound like static—like he’s hearing the conversations underwater. Suddenly, a burst comes from above, a shatter of something in the room, a clatter of hollow bangs and clashes, and a yell. His dream always turns blurry after the fight starts, but it always ends the same—Namjoon pulling Taehyung away from a fight. And the latter is badly wounded.

And Jungkook always wakes up at the sight of Taehyung. And it’s the same question that swirls around in his mind, over and over again. Did Taehyung die on the quest?

At first, it’s easy for Jungkook to write off the dream as a dream—nothing more, nothing less. Perhaps his subconscious playing tricks on him, playing around with his fears and turning it into videos to play in his brain. But with each passing night, a voice starts to ring in his mind.

My dear boy. It’s a deep voice, husky and low and full of pitiful sadness, like it can sense the pain that Jungkook is trying to internalize. Don’t you understand? Kim Namjoon let your best friend die.

There’s something about the voice that is familiar, like he’s heard it before.

The voice plays in Jungkook’s mind over and over again, like a record, and it shakes him to the core. The potential of what the voice is and what the voice could mean frightens him, and it shows.

It shows in when Jungkook just outright misses the target with his bow and arrow in the present day. The pair of you are out on the field today, and you’re furrowing your eyebrows together.

“Are you alright?”

Jungkook stares at his arrow, somewhere flung off to the side, before his gaze shifts to you. You’re always so sturdy, so concerned, so worried for him. Besides Taehyung, who else cares so much for his safety and wellbeing—?

He stops, lowering the bow. He wears a serious expression. “Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers.

You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Of course. Is something bothering you? I know your father hasn’t claimed you yet, but the gods can be really busy around this time…”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Not that.” He steals himself for speaking the words into reality. “I had a dream that Taehyung died, even though Namjoon promised me nothing would happen to him.” He doesn’t miss the way you flinch at his accusation.

You don’t reply to him at first. You stare at him, eyes conflicted. Jungkook stares back, briefly wondering whether you’ve had the experience of knowing death. He doesn’t voice the question, choosing instead to maintain steady eye contact with your nervous expression.

“Perhaps it was just a dream, Jungkook,” You say carefully. “Namjoon always keeps his promises. He and Taehyung have been working together on quests for years. And Namjoon is the smartest person I’ve ever met. If they ran into a situation Namjoon thought they wouldn’t be able to handle, he wouldn’t even think to risk the lives of the people he’s with. He won’t let you down.” You’re smiling tightly, clearly trying to keep the tension light but Jungkook suddenly finds that his heart is not in the mood.

He wants to believe you. He wants to believe in Namjoon. But he knows what his dreams are. And that voice. These are things he cannot ignore no matter how hard he tries.

But the thing is, his dreams are real—Kim Namjoon does not keep his promise. Jungkook can see this across his face the moment Namjoon returns to camp, alone.

“Not only did they know we were coming,” Namjoon explains quietly to the camp counselors, late in the night, at a meeting spot reserved for higher ups. “They had taken over the museum a few weeks before we showed up. It was an ambush. I… I couldn’t save Taehyung.”

No.

“No!” Jungkook cries out, standing up and making his position known—loitering in the background of the meeting.

Namjoon meets his gaze from across the gap that separates them. “Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s head is spinning, his breath coming out in gasps, as he backs up slowly away from the growing crowd of camp counselors. “Y-You promised me!” He accuses loudly, pointing at Namjoon. “You promised nothing would happen to Taehyung! You lied to me!”

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.” Namjoon steps out from amongst the group of counselors, a hand out in front of him as if approaching a frightened animal. “We were overwhelmed. If I could take it back and save him, I would—!”

“Shut up!” Jungkook cries louder, running his hands through his hair. He should have known, should have known that weight in his gut was a warning and not a feeling. The tears in his eyes make it blurry to see anything to understand anything—because Taehyung is dead, along with his kindness and compassion and the safety he brought. “I hate you, I hate all of you!”

Suddenly, there’s a rumble in the ground, a shake in the Earth so intense that a hushed silence falls over the crowd. At once, the ground splits open and a roar of fire explodes up from the pit, threatening to drag in anyone who gets closer. There are screams from the campers, from the counselors, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He’s so angry, so hurt, so lost. He doesn’t hear any of it.

Until he hears your voice. “Jungkook!” You scream across the gap.

Jungkook stills upon hearing you, lowering his arms and opening his eyes. Blinking away tears, he feels his heart rate slow back down to a manageable pace. The split in the ground closes before he looks up. He sees the camp counselors up ahead, equal looks of fear and horror across their eyes.

He turns just enough to see you. You, with your wide eyes, looking confused and upset by what he has just done. And Jungkook feels nothing but disappointment. He has never done anything like this before, and he doesn’t know what it means.

So he runs away. He runs away from Namjoon and this god forsaken camp that he knows will remind him of Taehyung.

He runs away from the whispers from campers, a representation to serve that Jungkook will never truly belong here.

He runs away from you, the only other person he would think to trust from now on. He can’t handle any of this anymore.

Two weeks after Jungkook runs away from Camp Half Blood, and a shadow of a figure appears to him in the midst of the evening air. It’s a ghost with a dark twisted smile, who calls himself Min Yoongi—a king in a past life, who now resides in the Underworld as a judge for all souls.

He tells Jungkook that Jungkook is a son of Hades—which explains why he knew about Taehyung’s death, why he split the ground open all those weeks ago. There’s something borderline dangerous about Yoongi’s smile.

Every fiber and nerve in Jungkook’s body is begging him not to trust this ghost. But, of course, Jungkook doesn’t listen. He stopped listening to things a long time ago.

Besides, Yoongi soon makes offers that Jungkook cannot escape from. A way to bring Taehyung back, a way to strike revenge upon Kim Namjoon, a way—!

Jungkook blinks the thoughts away. He had dozed off again, something he’s been doing a lot lately.

“You should sleep,” Yoongi advises, his voice more of a whisper than anything else. There’s a touch of eerie to him, in his paper white skin and gray eyes.

Even though Jungkook doesn’t desire sleep, far from it, he settles with listening to the ghost anyways. So he curls up on a makeshift pillow crafted from his beaten down (stolen) leather jacket, and closes his eyes.

But instead of the previous nights, where he dreams about death and destruction, dreams up different ways Taehyung could have survived, dreams up Namjoon not caring about Taehyung’s death—he dreams of you.

Dreams about you are such a rarity now, but they always make him feel warm. Content. Almost satisfied.

In the dream, the pair of you are situated underneath a big tree at the edge of the forest. You’re in the middle of teaching him about Mythomagic—a card game he had immediately developed an interest for—and he realizes he’s dreaming about a memory this time. When he steals a look at you, he sees sunlight curling around your form, lighting up your hair and your eyes. He hears your laughter and sees the crinkle in your eyes. He can feel your happiness and the innocence in the air around you. He remembers the peacefulness, the calming nature of you.

He misses it—he misses you.

A cold chill running down his spine startles Jungkook awake as he springs into a sitting position. The fire before him has long since been put out, and Min Yoongi is floating in front of him. The latter wears a sharp look. “You’re dreaming about her again, aren’t you?”

Jungkook sighs. Good things in his life could only last for so long. He runs a hand through his hair and turns to gather his jacket into his arms. “I thought I asked you to stop peeking into my mind.”

“You were smiling,” Yoongi observes quietly.

“That’s none of your business,” Jungkook snaps.

“It must have been a good dream. I couldn’t see the contents of the dream, just the subject.”

“Stay out of my head!” Jungkook hisses, standing up and sliding his arms into the jacket.

“You care deeply about her.”

“What do I have to say to get you to stop talking about her?” Jungkook retorts hotly, feeling his temper rise. It had been a good dream. The best one he’s had all week.

Yoongi looks at him passively. “Just answer one of my questions,” He settles calmly.

Jungkook grunts. “Fine. What is it?”

“Why exactly do you care so much about her? You hardly know her.”

Jungkook slides his backpack over his shoulder. He ignores the touch of passive aggressiveness in Yoongi’s tone. “She was the only one at camp who went out of their way to make me feel like they actually gave a shit.”

“She cares more about Namjoon than you,” Yoongi interjects bluntly. “She and Namjoon have been friends for longer. She only talked to you because of Namjoon, after all. And don’t you hate him?”

“Shut up.”

“You worry she doesn’t care for you the way you do. Haven’t you wondered why she hasn’t tried looking for you?”

“Shut up.”

“She was only nice to you because Namjoon asked her to be nice to you.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jungkook explodes, turning towards Yoongi with his arm out in a striking motion. His arm cuts clean through the ghost, and he watches as the pieces wisp away into the air. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Yoongi will be back soon, probably to reprimand him, but mostly to carry on as if this hadn’t happened—to continue asking questions and continue trying to piss Jungkook off. It doesn’t matter. Jungkook could never bring Yoongi any harm. The latter is a ghost, after all.

There’s still a lot he doesn’t understand.

Jungkook calls off his deal with Yoongi shortly after the You Incident—in which a series of dreams about you sent Yoongi on an accusatory streak that sent him back to the Underworld where he rightfully belongs. It’s good because he doesn’t want a ghost meddling in his personal business, and his personal feelings.

It’s bad, however, because Jungkook no longer has an evil ghost by his side that offers up revenge.

This leaves him to do the next best thing—try and summon Taehyung.

As a son of Hades, his powers do include communicating with ghosts like Yoongi and cracking holes into the ground, but it also involves the ability to summon deceased souls. All that is required is a pit, some food, and a cantation in Ancient Greek. It’s supposed to be simple, and in a way it is.

Except when the soul he’s trying to summon doesn’t want to be found, which is exactly how it has gone with Taehyung. He’s tried to get Taehyung’s attention for weeks now, to no luck. And he’s tried everything.

Jungkook scowls to himself as he takes in the local convenience store to buy the various items he’ll need to attempt another summoning. Animal blood is one of the best tools for this type of power, but animal blood doesn’t exactly like up on shelves in aisles of grocery stores—so Jungkook has settled with fast food meals, chips, or anything cheap he can get his hands on.

He glares at the lineup of sodas in front of his gaze, trying to focus but he finds his mind wandering against through his memories, picking the ones that are most guaranteed to make him feel like shit.

His mind settles on a line Yoongi said to him countless times regarding you: She was only nice to you because Namjoon asked her to be nice to you.

His hands shake in his pockets, determined not to believe it, but finding himself pool with doubt nonetheless.

“Jungkook.”

He jumps out of his skin at the familiar voice he’s spent the past many months thinking about, as the sensation rings through his body. He experiences brief flashes of emotions he hasn’t undergone in awhile: peace, warmth, hope. He turns on his heel and can’t help the way his eyes widen at the sight of you.

The months that have passed since his disappearance really does wonders to your face. You look older. You look wary, but well prepared. Most of all, your eyes are still that bright light he remembers more often than he cares to admit. But you also look sad, like the sight of Jungkook is worse than you expected.

“Jungkook…” You say again, quieter this time.

You saying his name again brings him back to reality, brings him back to where he is and why he’s here. He doesn’t need you. Like Yoongi said, you’re friends with Namjoon—and Namjoon is the reason why Taehyung is dead. His voice sounds hollow. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same question.”

His scowl deepens as he settles for a Mountain Dew on the rack. “That’s none of your business.” He catches the hurt that flickers in your eyes, but he turns towards the cashier before he can feel sorry for you.

You trail after him. “Please don’t shut me out,” You plead gently. You stay behind Jungkook as he pays for his food. “I came here looking for you.”

“Awfully convenient—but I don’t think you should be wasting your time,” Jungkook grumbles, bounding out of the shop and stopping along the sidewalk. “Why don’t you go back to Namjoon and keep being his best friend and just leave me alone?”

A sort of realization seems to settle in your eyes, as if you’ve just confirmed something. “I’m not leaving,” You say firmly after a moment. “I’m here by myself, Jungkook. No campers, no Namjoon, it’s just me. I know you’re mad at Namjoon, and you have every right to be upset. I know why you cracked a hole in the ground. I understand all that now. But I really think you should stop blaming Namjoon and hurting yourself. Namjoon didn’t mean to let Taehyung die—!”

Jungkook whirls around, his eyes a twin set of fire. “Don’t say his name,” He snaps roughly, but falls silent when you don’t even flinch.

How could he raise his voice at the only person who has gone out of their way to ensure his safety?

He turns away. He doesn’t apologize, and you don’t ask him to.

The pair of you don’t say anything for a long moment—Jungkook just makes his way down the sidewalk and you follow along.

He stops after a moment. He turns himself just enough so you can see his profile. “Fine,” He says, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest when you flash him an appreciative smile. “I’ll let you tag along. But only because I feel bad for snapping at you. I’ve just…” He sighs. “Been going through a lot.”

You step forward to stand by his side. “We can talk about anything you want to, Jungkook. I’m still your friend.”

He swallows thickly at your offer, hoping that you don’t notice. If you do, you remain silent. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to.”

Two days after you join Jungkook’s travels, you seem to decide he is calm enough for a sensitive question. But you’re sneaky about it. You wait until the night, when both of you are curling around a fire—you in your sleeping bag, and Jungkook with his signature leather jacket makeshift pillow underneath his head. “Why are you so afraid to talk about Taehyung’s death?”

He flinches at the mention of Taehyung’s name, knowing that snapping and causing a scene would do nothing to stop you from asking the question over and over again. You had given him a few days, but something about your tone tonight tells him that you won’t take no for an answer.

Jungkook turns his head to look at you. Your eyes are flickering against the fire. “I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

You shrug a shoulder. “Sure.”

He sighs, momentarily stumped. “I’m afraid that if I admit it, or let other people admit it in front of me, it’s true and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back.”

“I don’t think Taehyung would want you to bring him back, Jungkook. He saved Namjoon that day; he sacrificed himself for a reason—!”

“Okay, my turn,” Jungkook interrupts, refusing to hear any of it. “Why are you here? Really?”

You are quiet for a second. “I was sent on a quest to come find you,” You reply after a moment. “The oracle told me about a prophecy where you were in danger. It said you had made a deal with Min Yoongi, said you were considering a soul for a soul trade to get Taehyung back. I was scared for you, Jungkook.” You sit up in your sleeping bag, leaning across the space between the two of you. “My turn. Why don’t you want to believe that Taehyung sacrificed himself to save Namjoon?”

“Because why would he do that?” Jungkook retorts back. “Why would he leave behind everything he cared about? Why would he leave me—?” The words choke in the back of his throat as his heart rams painfully against his chest, the underlying reason for his bitterness surfacing up again. He thought he had smashed his grief down far enough where it would never have to see sunlight again. “It’s nothing. I’m not playing this game anymore.”

You are quiet, watching as Jungkook curls into himself and turns his back to you. “When are you going to start letting me in?” You whisper. “I didn’t accept that quest for no reason, Jungkook, I came because I care about you. I want to help you.”

I’ve already let you in, far more than I wanted to, Jungkook thinks to himself instead, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

“I know that Taehyung would have never wanted to leave you. He cared about you a lot, and saw you as the little brother he never had. You guys deserved more time. You deserved more time to have the family you never got to have. You wanna know the last thing Taehyung said to me, after introducing us to each other all that time ago? He said that you guys only knew each other for a short time, but you were the strongest person Taehyung had known. I know how much Taehyung wanted to be there for you. But he also had other responsibilities.” Your fingers twitch as if you want to reach over and grab onto Jungkook. “Namjoon had been the leader of the quest, he was the main priority. Taehyung had to make the call. He would never have wanted you to take the guilt for a decision he made on his own.”

Jungkook hesitates, before rolling onto his back. “Why does Namjoon deserve my forgiveness?”

Finally, he spares a glance at you. You’re still looking at him, gaze sharp over the fire. It distracts Jungkook momentarily, as his mind thinks about how different you are from fire. Fire can be harsh, blunt, unforgiving, and relentless. Like him.

But you are like the sun—bright, warm, longing. You refuse to give up on him.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” You whisper. “Because everyone deserves a second chance.”

He stares at you. He doesn’t know what longing dances behind his eyes, but you seem to know, because you avert your gaze and grumble something about going to sleep.

He watches you turn to your side, and he wonders.

Jungkook has tried to summon Taehyung a grand total of ten times in the weeks prior to his run in with you. Each time is met with failure, because it seems like Taehyung does not want to be summoned which is disappointing and disheartening. To be honest, it makes Jungkook less and less enthusiastic to keep attempting something he cannot guarantee.

But as you stand next to him over an empty pit the pair of you have spent the last thirty minutes digging up, you take your hand in his. You smile at him, nodding. “It’ll work this time.”

So Jungkook pours in the Mountain Dew and dumps out the bag of chips he’s acquired into the hole. As he repeats the same cantation he’s said for the past ten times, the food starts bubbling as spirits from the Underworld fight to get a taste of the offering.

“Show me Taehyung!” Jungkook calls out, although he sounds worried and unsure.

At once, a spirit with a bright light, brighter than the others around it, shines through. It slides to the front to drink from the food at the bottom of the pit. The figure morphs and forms into Kim Taehyung.

Despite everything, despite the long hours that Jungkook has committed to summoning Taehyung, the sight of his friend does not fill him with joy. It fills his eyes with tears.

You notice, you always do. You squeeze his hand, but you also let go of him. “I’ll leave you two.”

So Taehyung talks. He talks and talks, about his quest, about his sacrifice, about Namjoon, about forgiveness.

This is something Jungkook has wanted for weeks. Yet, the longer Taehyung talks, the deeper he can feel the rifts of frustration.

Frustration at Namjoon, for whom everyone is telling Jungkook to forgive.

Frustration at Taehyung, for leaving him drowning in the sorrows of his own nightmares. For leaving him, even when he wasn’t ready to be left.

Frustration at you, for always caring about him, even when he’s sure he doesn’t even care about himself anymore.

When Jungkook releases Taehyung back to the Underworld, he feels like a hollow shell. He simply stands there, in front of the pit that brought forth his best friend. His mind is whirling with questions, with a curiosity.

You approach him slowly. “Jungkook…”

“You should go back,” He mutters.

You actually look shocked at this now. “What?”

He turns on his heel to address you properly. “Go back to camp.” He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the words come out like a snap. He tries to reprimand the situation when your face falls just a fraction. “Go back to camp,” He tries again, a little softer this time. He keeps his gaze on you, even when you look up to stare at him. “It’ll be okay. I just need a little bit of time.”

At this, you nod slowly. You try for a smile. “Come back home, okay?”

He thinks he knows what you mean, but you disappear before he can ask you.

He returns to Camp Half Blood after a few days, with his leather jacket and black iron sword. The campers that guard the border part for him like the Red Sea—with the exception of one camper. He’s an older camper, who even in the dark shines brighter than the moon overhead. It’s a son of Apollo quality. It belongs to Jung Hoseok, a camper Jungkook met when he first arrived at camp. Hoseok is like sunshine—he’s always bright and cheerful with a positive disposition.

Today, despite still having that glint in his eyes, the boy wears a much more solemn expression. Almost as if he’s seen everything that Jungkook has gone through. Or, at the very least, has heard about it. “Hey Jungkook…” Hoseok greets. He doesn’t leave much room for conversation, because he gestures past the archway entrance, down the hill, towards the Big House—the main meeting place for campers, the central point of Camp Half Blood. “She’s waiting for you.”

He doesn’t need a list of camp names to know who Hoseok is talking about. Jungkook just mumbles his thanks, trying not to draw too much attention to the flush against his cheeks as he follows the pathway down into camp. It’s late, so the grounds are devoid of people, making it easier for Jungkook to step onto the porch of the Big House.

You’re on the porch, pacing back and forth with your thumb in between your teeth and you look nervous. You’re mumbling something underneath your breath.

But your ears are just as good as your eyes, because as soon as Jungkook steps on the wood, you’re whirling around to face him. “Jungkook!” You exclaim, approaching him with tentative steps. “Y-You came back.”

He levels you with a look, feeling a bashfulness overcome him. “You asked me to,” He says. There’s a slight pause. “I told you I needed time to think, and I have. You were right. Everyone deserves a second chance. It wasn’t fair of me to go after Namjoon the way I did.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Jungkook continues to stare at you, feeling a fondness overcoming him. “Thanks,” He finally settles with. “For, you know, finding me. For not giving up on me.” He looks down, scratching the back of his neck. “I should probably go find Namjoon and apologize.”

You wave away his concern. “Namjoon is asleep.” You angle your head towards the oceanside that surrounds the camp. “Want to take a walk with me?”

So you lead him through the camp, past the cabins of campers, past the archery set, past all that, to finally the beach located along the outskirts of the camp. It’s home to many boat races, surfing adventures, and firework displays. Currently, it’s devoid of activity. Right now there is merely a wooden pier that stretches out into the ocean, one that you and Jungkook walk down before you settle down at the edge.

You pat the spot next to you, and Jungkook sits down. Since you don’t say anything, he allows himself to stare out at the horizon, and the movement of the ocean. When you still don’t say anything, Jungkook dares himself to look at you. The moonlight is cascading across your features. You look like home. You feel like home.

You look at him suddenly, and knit your eyebrows. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Oh, uh, no…” He trails off, forcing himself to look away from you. Should he tell you? Not tell you, but… “Hey Y/N,” Jungkook speaks before he can think otherwise.

You look at him. “Yes?”

Jungkook straightens his back a little. “I-I think I should tell you… I didn’t come back just for Namjoon. Actually, I came back to tell you that I, uh, well, I missed you—I mean, hanging out with you—I wanted to be a better person because of you—I mean, not just because of you, but—!”

You start to smile at that, before you do something unexpected. You lean over and kiss his cheek.

He feels like his body has just been shocked, the sensation dancing up and down his spine. “W-What was that for?” He’s trying to sound confused, but his nerves immediately start getting the best of him.

Your smile is still present, but it’s a kind smile that touches your eyes and assures him of his choice to return. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. You still wear your emotions in your eyes. That’s one that hasn’t changed over the past year.”

He scoffs, but his face feels hot and he’s sure the effect he’s trying to go for is lost anyways.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #traci writes #collection:petals

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prongsies · 4 years

Text

Star-Crossed ⁕ Chapter 2

←Chapter 1 | Master List

Two weeks have passed since Thalia’s arrival at The Burrow. By then, Hermione had joined them, staying with Ginny in her room and offering an extra pair of hands in completing the household chores that needed accomplishing as each day passes. By that time their O.W.L.s results have been delivered, Thalia receiving an ‘Outstanding’ in all – well, except Divination.

The twins’ results came in as well, the two brandishing their eight O.W.L.s - COMBINED – like a badge of honor, much to Molly’s dismay. Thalia was proud of them, though, since she knows their beliefs rest on their skills lying outside any academic-related profession – and they didn’t believe in the significance of exams. Nevertheless, she was proud of them for at least trying.

Harry arrives days later, fetched by Arthur, Ron, and the twins in their little muggle home in Surrey. When they returned, it was in the middle of Thalia and Ginny teaching Hermione how to play Exploding Snap on the floor in the living room – which Hermione had never found interest in, really – just to pass the time. This is then followed by Molly berating the twins for using Harry’s cousin as a subject of experimentation for their ‘Ton-Tongue’ coffee, which, although Harry found hilarious, earned them two days of doing all the chores.

“You’re on your own this time, lads” Thalia laughed as she pushed the twins faces away while they try to convince her to offer even just a little bit of help, “You’ve made her proper mad this time, you’re not sucking me into that punishment”

She turned back to Ginny and Ron, who were already starting a new game with Harry, before winking back at Fred and George.

“Come on, Lia” Fred said softly, sliding next to Thalia who was concentrating for the game, “just so we could perfect the Puking Pastilles before school starts”

“Puking what?” Ron interjected, earning a roll of the eyes from the twins.

“None of your business, Ronniekins” George teased. He joined Fred in trying to convince Thalia, eventually having her agree on making breakfast for all of them just because she enjoyed cooking.

“You owe me!” She screamed behind the two boys, who ran up the stairs as soon as she said yes. They shouted incoherent responses back to her, before the loud slam of their bedroom door echoed until the living room.

The Quidditch World Cup day had finally arrived, but much to everyone’s excitement, they had to leave before the sun could even cast a single ray in the sky, just so they wouldn’t have to deal with more crowd later. Ginny had been the one to wake the three in Fred and George’s bedroom, knocking loudly at the door while screaming “IT’S WORLD CUP DAY!”

With a groan, Thalia peeled herself off her comfortable bed. She peered over towards Fred and George, still asleep in theirs, before gathering her clothes and making her way to the bathroom to get ready.

Percy had just gotten out of his shower when she arrived, smiling at the sight of her all disheveled from last night’s sleep, “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes”

“Percy Weasley, are you teasing me?” Thalia mocked gasp, her hands flying straight to her hair to flatten it.

Percy laugh with a roll of his eyes before side-stepping to allow her to use the bathroom. She called back to him before he could return to his room, asking, “Are you coming with us?”

Percy looked back, “No, I’m afraid not. I have to run some things over at the Ministry before going. I’ll see you there, though”

Thalia hummed in response as she reentered the bathroom, taking a quick shower and drying her brown hair before changing into her outfit. She figured a sweater would do the trick since, well, she’d definitely sweat on their hike to find the portkey. Pairing it with some pants and boots, she exited the bathroom and returned to the twins’ room to wake them.

When she descended the stairs, she was immediately greeted by Charlie and Bill Weasley, who were both in a debate against Percy on magical creatures over the dining table, as Hermione and Ginny drowned them out with their own silent chattering.

“Pestering him again, you two?” Thalia asked Bill and Charlie in amusement, leaning down to hug Bill briefly before taking her seat beside Ginny. Percy, who seemed to be on the losing end, huffed and hurriedly finished his breakfast, before standing to leave to the Ministry. “You know you should’ve given it to him this time”

“As his older brothers” Bill shared a look with Charlie.

“Nah” They said in unison before returning to their food. Thalia soon mimicked them, scooping beans onto her plate and forking down some sausages, pairing it up with some toast.

Everyone had been well-fed as they double-checked their belongings while they readied to leave. Harry, Ron, and the twins have gotten up a bit later than everyone else, and were the only ones being waited on as they prepared.

“Ireland, eh?” Bill asked, motioning towards the green bandana Thalia had tied around her backpack as he approached her, “Care to make a bet?”

“No bets, William Weasley!” Molly scolded from the top of the stairs as she retrieves what looked like a coin bag. She paused to look at Bill pointedly, before leaving to give Arthur the bag.

“Anyway” Bill continued when his mother was out of earshot. He said confidently, “I bet you 2 galleons Krum catches the snitch and Bulgaria wins”

“Sign me up for that!” Charlie, not even trying to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping, joined them, swinging an arm over his older brother’s shoulder, “I’m going with Bill her, Lia”

“Well, I bet you Krum catches the snitch but Ireland wins”

“Impossible!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing his hands up dramatically.

“Not as impossible as Bulgaria winning”

“Placing bets already?” Arthur joined in, coming inside from the garden to retrieve what looked like his wand from the coffee table. He leaned in to talk softly to them, “don’t let your mother find out” before leaving, scurrying Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny along.

“Pretty sure you’re gonna lose mate” Fred joined in, pulling Thalia towards him by the shoulder.

“Thalia knows what she’s talking about” George continued.

They were ushered out the house by Molly, who looked far too impatient to have the three in a deep conversation with Bill and Charlie that seemed to be dragging along. With a promise from the two eldest to meet them at the World Cup, they finally left, setting foot into the hills towards where the portkey should be.

The three overtook Ron and Harry, who were following Hermione and Ginny in front of them sleepily as they practically forced themselves up the hill, and joined Arthur in the very front, conversing with him about all the other Quidditch World Cups he had been to.

Nearly an hour into their journey, Thalia started shivering from the cold. She now regrets choosing a sweater over something that could’ve been warmer, underestimating the kind of cold England had prepared for her. Since fishing for her jacket from her backpack would take too long, Thalia decided to just endure the cold for a little while longer, since Arthur had already told them they were in the site where the portkey was planted.

Looking around, a voice called their attention, “Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we’ve got it!”

Thalia looked up to see two silhouetted figures up the hill, following Arthur as he approached them. Thalia found herself beside Ginny and Hermione, who started whispering about the boy standing beside the man Arthur was talking to. They were introduced to Amos Diggory, a co-worker of Arthur at the Ministry of Magic.

“I take it you know his son, Cedric?” Arthur asked. Thalia gaze immediately went to Fred and Geroge, a smirk playing on her lips at the sight of them scowling at him. They’ve definitely haven’t forgiven him for their defeat against the Hufflepuff in their last game – especially since Cedric had caught the snitch before Harry.

“Hi” Cedric greeted sheepishly, smiling at Harry whom he seems to be in good terms with despite the loss. His eyes trailed over to Thalia, before approaching her.

Hermione and Ginny made space for him as he neared, Ginny elbowing Thalia suggestively for a moment before she was pulled away by Hermione.

“Uhm,” Cedric scratched the back of his head awkwardly, making Thalia smile, “You looked a bit cold – you can have my coat if you like. I took it off when it got a bit hot for me – it's not sweaty, though, I swear!”

Thalia laughed as the boy’s cheek flushed, making a move to accept the coat that hung on his forearm when a voice interrupted her.

“Thanks, mate, but she’s good” said Fred sternly, allowing his hand to brush the dip in Thalia’s back. In the distance, she could see Ron, Ginny, and Hermione whispering among themselves, Ron sending a wink towards Thalia, and Ginny giving her a thumbs up. These children, I swear to Merlin

“I am cold though” Thalia persisted, ignoring Fred as she reached over to grab the coat now outstretched in Cedric’s arm.

“Oh, Godric’s gracious” Fred murmured as he dropped his bag, slipping off his own coat revealing a pullover underneath. “Here”

He slung the coat over Thalia’s shoulders as he stomped back to join George and the others, scowling as they teased him over his little episode.

“He’s- he’s had a rough day – he's not really a morning person” Thalia tried to clear the air, just to make Cedric feel a little comfortable, “Thank you for the offer, though”

Cedric smiled back at her, relaxing a bit when Thalia rested a hand on his shoulder, turning him to where everyone had already gathered, circling a manky old boot which turned out to be the portkey. Thalia groaned as the boot transported them into the location of the World Cup, landing them straight onto a patch of damp grass with a thud.

She looked up to see Arthur, Amos, and Cedric descending gently from the sky, all looking at them humorously as they tried to compose themselves. Cedric was quick to help Thalia onto her feet, before skipping over to Harry to help him up as well.

They bid each other good bye soon after, with the Weasleys, Thalia, Harry, and Hermione following Arthur towards their tent. The rest happened in a blur for Thalia as she was finally able to rest on the small couch in the middle of the room, allowing herself to succumb to her tiredness as she drifted off to sleep right then and there.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Wake up, love” a voice whispered as a hand ran gently on her forehead. Thalia hummed as she forced her eyes awake, smiling as she came face to face with Fred who was knelt on the floor beside her. She sat up, stretching a bit before looking around and noticing the gazes of everyone around her, all on them.

Even Percy, who had been wiping down the table after spilling a soda moments ago, was staring at his younger brother, surprised to see him use a softer voice for once, before Arthur called him from outside the tent to introduce him to another Ministry co-worker.

“It is World Cup time?” Thalia asked sleepily, still adjusting to her surroundings after her wonderful nap.

“In a couple of hours” Fred replied, “We’ll have lunch first, of course. Dad’s brought chicken”

“Brilliant” replied Thalia stifling a yawn. She excused herself to go to the bathroom to freshen up, leaving everyone to continue staring at Fred. He occupied the space Thalia had slept in, before being joined by Ginny, Charlie, and George while the other returned to the conversation.

“You like her, don’t you?” Charlie teased, poking Fred’s cheeks as the younger boy tried pushing him away.

“I don’t” Fred slapped his hand, which grew nearer and nearer to his cheek, away, “She’s like a sister to me”

“I’m your sister” Ginny joined in in the teasing, “and you’ve never woke me up like that”

“Yeah” George added, “If you woke our little Ginevra like that, she’d be less of a grump grump in the morning”

“Shut your mouth, George. Like you’re any better”

The two continued to tease themselves as Thalia returned, a large smile on her face and her hair damp. “I’m ready to be four galleons richer once this game’s over”

“As if” Bill, having just returned to the tent, retorted, throwing an apple he had brought along towards Thalia who caught it easily. She tossed it over to Harry, who happily ate it, before joining Fred and the others on the sofa.

“Care to share what this meeting is about?”

“It’s about you losing, obviously”

“You wish, William!” Thalia exclaimed, tossing a throw pillow into his direction, which served its purpose well as it hit Bill square in the face. He had a mischievous expression on his face as the pillow fell onto the floor, before chasing after Thalia as she ran out the tent, nearly running into Arthur, who called out after the two.

World Cup time – as Thalia liked to call it – finally came, and everyone in the tent was practically bouncing on the heels of their feet as they waited for each other to finish getting ready so they could leave to go to the stadium. The tent flooded colors of green as everyone adorned scarves and hats to show their support for the Irish, except for Charlie, Bill, Ron, and Harry who all sided with Bulgaria.

“It’s your first World Cup, right?” Thalia asked, approaching Harry whose eyes looked around in pure amazement, grinning widely as the crowd around him blew horns and ignited Dr Fillibuster’s Fireworks freely. He had stopped to buy three pairs of omnioculars from a kind wizard selling them.

“Yeah, I wonder how different it’ll be from Hogwarts Quidditch” Harry replied, thanking the man after he received his purchase. He waited for Thalia who had bought four pairs of her own, before turning and smiling at Harry kindly.

“Much brutal, this is” Thalia laughed, leading Harry to where the others were after she had finished buying them. “Would you like to play professionally one day?”

“I would” Harry replied dreamily, a faint smile playing on his lips at the idea, before he frowned, “although I don’t think it’s the best option, with the war going on”

“Well, don’t forget to consider your own happiness once this is all over” Thalia advised, patting his back, “I know, however, that you’d be brilliant in whatever field you choose. Last I heard, you wanted to be an Auror?”

“Very much so” Harry scratched his nose, “But the idea of playing professionally isn’t off the table”

“Very well” Thalia grinned at him, before allowing him to join Ron and Hermione, handing them the omnioculars he had bought. Thalia handed Ginny her purchase, receiving a hug in thanks for her small gift.

Keeping one in her coat pocket, she made her way over to Fred and George to give them theirs, only to find them whispering among themselves, “Talking about me, aren’t we?” She teased.

“Talking about how much of a bugger you are, yes” Fred retaliated, capturing Thalia’s head in a noogie causing her to squeal, trying to squirm away from his grip. When she freed herself, she ran ahead towards Ginny and Hermione, who were in a conversation about house elves.

The group ascended the stairs of the gigantic stadium, going “as high as they can go” as instructed by the Ministry witch who checked their tickets.

“Blimey, dad! How far up are we?” complained Ron, already panting from the number of stairs they’ve climbed thus far. Arthur turned to give his youngest son an answer, when someone had already beat him to it.

“Let’s put it this way” The voice belonged to none other than Lucius Malfoy, sneering up at them from a couple of flights below, “If it rains, you would be the first to know”

Arthur made a move to usher the children up the stairs, not wanting Malfoy to destroy the mood they were in, when Thalia stopped to stare down at the silver-haired man with a stern glare.

“Lucius” She acknowledged curtly. The Weasleys stopped upon hearing her voice, the first time they’ve heard that cold tone she’d usually use in conversing to people in Pureblood galas. “It’s nice to see you’re going as high up as you can as well. Mother made sure we’ve got the Prime seats next to the Minister of Magic and the Bulgarian Minister. I trust, you’ll be seated with us as well?”

“Yes” Lucius snapped, arms crossed over his chest.

“Very well, I hope your prejudice hasn’t affected your intellect” Thalia replied, a smirk playing on her face, “Considering you’ve pretty much belittled your own seats in the process. Good day, Lucius”

The man kept his mouth shut in lack of anything to say, while Thalia ushered everyone else to continue their journey up, nodding at Draco and Narcissa Malfoy in greeting.

“Blimey, Thalia!” mused George, who stood next to Fred a couple of steps below her. “hearing that voice sent chills up my spine”

“It’s bloody hot, is what it is” Fred had mumbled, thinking he had gotten away unheard, but flushed at the sound of his twin snorting out a laugh, “Oh, shut it, Georgie!”

Finally, they had managed to make their way into their seats. Harry was immediately pulled away from the group to be introduced to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and to the Bulgarian Minister. The Malfoys arrived minutes later, Lucius scowling as he avoided and sense of contact with the Weasley’s group, especially with Thalia.

They cheered when Ludo Bagman had started taking over the stands, placing his wand to his throat as he announced, “Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

Master List | Chapter 3→

TAGLIST:

@elf-punk

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x oc #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines

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loving-jack-kelly · 5 years

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Percy Jackson Died

Percy Jackson died.

He was old enough, he supposed, older than so many of his friends he’d watched die, but not really old. Old enough he was tired, and suddenly finding himself in the lobby he recognized from when he was twelve years old was disconcerting but not particularly surprising.

After all, he was a half-blood, and being a half-blood often got you killed in very nasty ways.

But still.

Percy Jackson died.

Charon remembered him.

“Drown in any bathtubs recently?” he asked dryly, but he waved Percy’s apologies for not having a coin to offer him. “You paid me for passage once and it clearly didn’t stick.”

So Percy Jackson died, and he crossed the River Styx on the ferry, and this time, when he arrived in the Underworld, Cerberus was completely visible.

Last time he came to the Underworld to see Hades, he’d entered the fast-moving line and stepped into the fields of Asphodel. This time, he waited in line to see the judges.

He’d saved the world more than once, they’d better give him something better than eternal stasis.

“Percy Jackson.” Daedalus greeted him warmly, arms full of blueprints and a full toolbelt wrapped around his waist. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Before Percy could respond, he was pushed to the front of the line and was standing in front of three men he had a feeling he should recognize but he didn’t. He didn’t have to speak at all, the three judges talked to each other while flipping through papers Percy couldn’t read, and without actually acknowledging him at all, the one in the middle hit a green button and Percy found himself on the inside of the gated community he’d only seen from the outside.

Percy Jackson died and was sent to Elysium. For a little while, it held his attention. Pretty much anything he wanted, he could have. Blue Coke, straight out of the bottle, better than the blue Coke at Camp Half-Blood. Pizza just like the pizza from his favorite place to go with his mom. Infinite activities, everything he’d ever wanted to do but hadn’t been able to when he was alive. Skydiving, cliff jumping, he got to pilot a plane.

He got to see old friends. Beckendorf and Selena Beauregard, who’d found each other and were happy again. Demigods who’d died in the second Titan war who wanted to hear from him how it had ended, to know what really happened. Heroes who died in the second giant war who wanted to know everything about Camp Jupiter and all of their friends who’d outlived them. Hunters who’d died in battles he hadn’t even known about while he was still alive.

But Percy Jackson was the son of Poseidon, lord of the sea. He didn’t like being contained in one place, and even if Elysium was a paradise for heroes, it wasn’t the same as being alive.

So Percy Jackson died, and Percy Jackson was sent to Elysium, and Percy Jackson chose to be reborn.

Zak Mason was born to a single mom.

He was an ordinary baby, almost. He was born with blue eyes, but they turned brown. He laughed and cried and pooped and spat up. He started preschool with a choppy haircut he gave to himself, and loved sitting on his mom’s lap to listen to Dr. Seuss books and watching anything fast-moving and colorful on TV.

When he was six, Zak’s basketball team won against all of the other first grade teams in their town, and a big picture of his gap-toothed smile holding the trophy he’d helped win with his first three-point shot held the place of honor on the fridge for almost a year.

Sometimes, Zak Mason had nightmares he didn’t understand. Of burning pain covering his entire body, of monsters and shifting Earth and bottomless pits, of faces he didn’t recognize twisted in pain or looking down at him as he fell, of flashing swords and screams and bursts of arrows whistling towards an enemy he couldn’t quite make out. He woke up and forgot the nightmares quickly, but they always left him almost wistful for something he couldn’t quite remember, even with how terrifying they were.

As Zak grew up, he noticed things nobody else seemed to. People who were just...different in ways nobody else seemed to understand. He saw a horse with wings, flying high above the clouds while he was on an airplane. A man he swore only had one eye that winked at him when he passed him on the bus. A woman with a forked tongue poking out of her mouth on a corner who’s smile made him shiver and walk faster.

And when he was eleven, almost twelve, a man with goat legs showed up and took him away from his mom. Just for the summer, but it was still the longest he’d been away from home.

“You’re a half-blood,” the man who called himself a satyr said. “You need to learn how to defend yourself and survive.”

His mom hugged him tearfully, but helped him pack his bags and sent him away, all the way to New York from their quiet little town in Wisconsin.

He expected it to be awkward. He didn’t know anything about what this satyr, whose name was Ash, was talking about. Gods and nymphs and a camp where he would learn to swordfight and find out who his dad was? None of it made any sense at all, and so Zak spent the trip to New York dreading whatever this camp was going to be.

He and Ash walked until he saw a tree, and Zak knew, just like that, that he was home. There were plenty of trees around, but this one was tall and proud and straight, and seeing it sent a jolt of some kind of unidentifiable pride down Zak’s spine.

And Zak and Ash passed the tree on top of its hill, and Zak felt like he was home. They looked over a valley full of cabins, a lake, strawberry fields, a big blue house with a wrap-around porch, a climbing wall that seemed to be on fire, and a thick forest.

Everything that didn’t make sense on the trip here clicked in Zak’s head. This was right, this was where he was supposed to be, that was the Big House, and the climbing wall was beatable if you knew the trick, and that was the armory even though it just looked like a shed.

“How do you know all that?” Ash asked, looking confused.

Zak paused.

“I don’t know,” he said.

But this was home.

He met Chiron, the centaur, and it felt like waking up from one of his nightmares. Especially when Chiron looked at him like he already knew everything about Zak and led him around the camp he already felt like he knew backward and forwards.

He was given a space to sleep in Cabin Eleven but told he’d likely be moving soon, as his dad would claim him.

Somehow, it was instinct to head for the lake during free time and climb into a canoe. He was terrible at it, but somehow it just felt right to be out on the lake with the naiads laughing at him.

What he was good at though, was still basketball. Basketball, and archery, and he picked up how to play guitar pretty quickly, too. He loved it at Camp Half-Blood, he told his mom in every letter. He missed her, sure, but they promised he’d be able to come home for the school year.

On his twelfth birthday, a flaming lyre burned above his head.

“Hail Zak Mason, son of Apollo,” Chiron announced in a booming voice, and Zak was welcomed into Cabin Seven with open arms.

So Percy Jackson died, and Percy Jackson made it to Elysium, and Percy Jackson chose to be reborn.

And Zak Mason was born, and Zak Mason was claimed.

Zak Mason still woke up with nightmares that faded from his mind before he blinked all the way awake. Of the same burning pain, but with a face that made him smiled floating through it. Of monsters he knew by name, and names he heard in stories of heroes in the second Titan war and the second giant war.

Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena and designer of Olympus. Grover Underwood, the satyr who finally found the great god Pan. Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, and Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, and Frank Zhang, son of Mars, and Hazel Levesque, daughter of Pluto, and Piper McLean, daughter of Aphrodite.

Names that whispered “home” to him the same way Thalia’s tree did and the lake did and the entire camp did, and he wasn’t sure why.

Chiron watched Zak Mason carefully, always with an expression of almost-but-not-quite recognition. When he insulted another camper or twisted his face in a particular scowl, Chiron shook his head and turned away.

There was one name that didn’t just whisper home, it screamed it.

Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, savior of humankind, one of the most powerful demigods of the modern age.

Zak didn’t know him, how could he? He’d died protecting a group of young demigods almost two years before Zak was born.

But somehow, Zak did.

He looked in the window of Cabin Three and saw the always empty bunk bed with a minotaur’s horn hanging above it and a ballpoint pen on the pillow and he knew the stories behind them without having to ask.

He’d dreamed them, he knew it, even if he’d forgotten the dreams. Rain and lightning and a woman who disappeared in a flash of golden light, and a sword that had killed a thousand threats to people Percy Jackson loved.

Zak stared at the pen sitting on the pillow and knew it belonged in his pocket. It didn’t surprise him when he woke up with it on his own pillow the next morning, and it didn’t surprise Chiron when it continued to do so every time Zak tried to return it to the little shrine to the fallen hero called Percy Jackson.

When he practiced with Riptide in the arena, it was like every sword fighting tactic he hadn’t been able to master with any other sword came naturally.

People whispered when they saw him fighting with Riptide. Whispered of Percy Jackson, who had fought the god of war and won when he was twelve years old. Who had defeated monsters Hercules himself couldn’t. Who’d wandered Tartarus with only Annabeth Chase beside him and come out alive. Who’d stopped Kronos and Gaea and was the reason camp was so busy and full of life. Who’d given his life to save people he cared for and who’d been willing to go to the ends of the Earth or further for his friends.

And those stories felt like home in the same way camp did, in the same way all those names did and in the same way his nightmares did.

Because Percy Jackson died, and Percy Jackson made it to Elysium, and Percy Jackson was reborn as Zak Mason, son of Apollo, who would surely prove to be as much of a hero as the first body his spirit had inhabited.

Because a spirit like that of Percy Jackson couldn’t be contained to Elysium, and couldn’t be contained to one life of heroism. Not when there was the choice to be another hero whose name would feel like home in his next life when the River Lethe tried again to wipe away memories that couldn’t be erased completely.

And a spirit like that of Percy Jackson could never be anything less than a Hero of Olympus, even if it started over in a new body with a new name.

#Asper Yells #txting #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #chiron #Greek Mythology #i wrote this #pjo #hoo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic

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troyplaysbass · 4 years

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We’ll Grow Stronger Making Room and Sharing Space: 2019 In Review

It’s the end of the year and the end of the decade (more on the latter in this post). It’s the time for me to reflect on the year and think too much about lists. Some things will never change.

Music I Worked On This Year

Jeff Schaller and the Long Way Home - “Younger Years” (guitar, recording, mixing, mastering)

Apocalypse Quest - Paradoxes (mixing, mastering)

Sloth Hands - Vacation’s Over (mastering)

Apocalypse Quest - “Mediocre Boys” (recording, mixing, mastering)

Flora Self - “Didn’t See It Coming” (bass, recording, mixing, mastering)

Pelafina - “Blue and Gold” (guitar)

Apocalypse Quest - “CEO Blood” (recording, mixing, mastering)

Apocalypse Quest - ERBA (recording, mixing, mastering)

My Favorite Albums of 2019

I’ve had a one-sentence review of my number one album, Breakup Season by Future Teens, in my head for a few months: If I had heard this when I was seventeen, I might have been a better person. That sounds hyperbolic, but I haven’t been able to shake the idea. I know I could have used this album as a teenager. It’s so honest and introspective about heartbreak and sadness and dealing with those emotions in healthy ways. I’m so happy that a band like Future Teens exists. I’m jealous of the kid that hears Breakup Season this year and connects to it like I connected to The Upsides. Future Teens will be that kid’s first favorite band, the soundtrack to their formative years, their inspirations and role models. I keep likening this album to The Upsides, probably the single most influential album on my past ten years. It feels like a torch-passing at the end of the decade, and it’s all the more apt because I saw Future Teens open for the Wonder Years in October.

The rest of my list feels as varied as my year, spanning genre and scope from emo debuts to the biggest pop artist in the world. As always, I think there’s a lot to love on this list, so pick something and give it a spin.

Future Teens - Breakup Season

Charly Bliss - Young Enough

Pedro the Lion - Phoenix

The Menzingers - Hello Exile

The Mountain Goats - In League With Dragons

Jimmy Eat World - Surviving

Taylor Swift - Lover

Origami Angel - Somewhere City

The Get Up Kids - Problems

Telethon - Hard Pop

Proper. - I Spent the Winter Writing Songs About Getting Better

Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties - Routine Maintenance

Ceres - We Are a Team

Oso Oso - Basking In the Glow

Better Oblivion Community Center - Better Oblivion Community Center

The Dangerous Summer - Mother Nature

Somos - Prison On a Hill

Dave Hause - Kick

American Football - LP3

Bruce Springsteen - Western Stars

Junius Paul - Ism

The Maine - You Are OK

Nervus - Tough Crowd

Great Grandpa - Four of Arrows

Vampire Weekend - Father of the Bride

My Favorite EPs of 2019

Better Love - All I Ever Wanted Is To Be Where You Are

Mineral - One Day When We Are Young

Ruston Kelly - Dirt Emo, Volume 1

Rat Tally - When You Wake Up

Bosley Jr - No More

My Favorite Songs of 2019

Here’s a playlist on Apple Music and Spotify of songs I loved this year. It’s vaguely in order (at least the top ten or so).

My Favorite Shows of 2019

I went to 63 shows this year, 35 of which I played. Here were my favorites. These were all great, but the John K. Samson show is a contender for my all-time favorite performance. He doesn’t tour much, so make it a priority to see him if you have the chance.

John K. Samson and Christine Fellows - 11/23 at Beat Kitchen

The Wonder Years, Future Teens - 10/20 at Metro

Ruston Kelly - 11/1 at Thalia Hall

Mineral - 1/24 at Lincoln Hall

Pedro the Lion - 5/18 at The Castle Theater

Jacob Sigman, Jetty Bones - 3/29 at Beat Kitchen

The Sidekicks, Adult Mom - 7/7 at Subterranean

Spanish Love Songs - 5/19 at Cobra Lounge

Los Campesinos! - 7/6 at West Fest

We Were Promised Jetpacks - 7/13 at Bottom Lounge

My Favorite Podcasts of 2019

Two Headed Girl is the best new podcast I listened to this year. It’s a chronicle of gender dysphoria, transitioning, and marriage. Hosts Alex and Matthew Cox are unflinching in their honesty with each other about their lives, health, and feelings. It’s kind of amazing that they recorded all of this and are willing to share such a personal journey with the world.

Elsewhere in the podcast world, two of my favorite long-running podcasts hit new highs in 2019. On episode 102 of Reconcilable Differences, “Preparing the Way,” John Siracusa buys a refrigerator. The two-hour chronicle of this harrowing adventure is everything I love about the podcast format. And The Watch, Chris Ryan and Andy Greenwald’s twice weekly talk about movies and TV, transitioned from purely critique to a behind the scenes look at making a TV show as Andy called in from the set and editing room of his upcoming show, Briarpatch.

Finally, I’ll recommend Michael Lewis’s Against the Rules, a meticulously researched exploration of societal rules and the people who make and enforce them. Unlike the long-running conversational shows I typically like, the tight format and high production value make Against the Rules feel more like an audio book.

My Favorite Books of 2019

As usual, I read very few new releases this year, but the few I did read were fantastic: Hanif Abdurraqib’s latest poetry collection, A Fortune For Your Disaster, Mark Z. Danielewski’s children’s book for all ages, The Little Blue Kite, and Mischa Pearlman’s One Day When We Are Young, a retrospective on the emo band Mineral and a companion piece to their first new music in over twenty years.

The best book I read this year, regardless of release date, was The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver.

My Favorite Television of 2019

I started 2019 with the vague goal of “keeping up” with TV, but I quickly realized that’s impossible. There’s just too much great TV. With that in mind, I just want to highlight a few of my favorite shows of the year, all remarkable for very different reasons, which also happen to be short and digestible.

Fleabag - Season 2

A tour de force of emotion and energy, every episode left me thinking that writer / producer / star Phoebe Waller-Bridge might be the most talented person alive.

Watchmen

Every frame of this show is immaculate. I’m a longtime defender of the endings of Lost and The Leftovers so I had confidence in Damon Lindelof and his team to pull this sequel/remix, and my expectations were still far exceeded.

When They See Us

Ava Duvernay’s docu-drama about the Central Park Five is a heart-wrenching examination of injustice. The opening sequence alone is worth the price of a Netflix subscription.

Chernobyl

A different kind of bleak docu-drama, set on the opposite side of the world as When They See Us, Chernobyl is equal parts moving, gruesome, frustrating, and deeply sad.

And I can’t leave the TV section without giving a shout to Baby Yoda on The Mandalorian, constant cause of delighted squeals (both Liesi’s and mine) every time he’s on screen.

My Favorite Movies of 2019

As always, I'm very behind on movies at the end of year, but Knives Out is a masterpiece. 1. Knives Out 2. Marriage Story 3. The Irishman 4. Booksmart 5. Midsommar 6. The Report 7. Toy Story 4 8. Us 9. Dolemite Is My Name 10. High Life

Next Year

I haven’t made a formal new year’s resolution in quite a few years, but I do have some plans for 2020.

Pelafina will be releasing a new EP in the next couple months. More on that very soon.

The Long Way Home are deep in the process of recording our next album. That will hopefully be out later in the spring.

I didn’t make a single blog post this year, and I want to change that. I don’t have a clear structure in mind, but I just want to write more.

I’m going to listen to more jazz.

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jflashandclash · 5 years

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Traitors of Olympus IV: The Fall of the Sun

Fifty-One: Kalypso

A Stalling Resolution

Their sneak escape, if they could call it that, was the most pathetic, obvious one in the history of stupidity. They would have had better luck transporting a stack of cymbals on top of an elephant.

That’s exactly what Pax wanted: the cymbals specifically, but Kally assumed he would also want an elephant. Thank the gods Frank had left in a huff before Pax came up with any ideas.

Calex’s job was to reroute Reyna so Axel could get a proper goodbye with her, then ask Chiron to use the camp phone so he could call his parents. Axel disagreed with the first part of the plan, but liked that Calex could keep an eye on Chiron while contacting his step-dad and sister. If that didn’t take enough time, Calex would ask Chiron to come with him to check up on Vinyl’s healing process from being tossed by Python.

Merry’s job was assuring Frank wouldn’t change his mind. And keeping Frank away from Axel and Reyna. And, really, making sure Frank was the happiest Canadian he could possibly be.

Kally was supposed to escort them until the last minute, to make sure they only left the camp and no one incited unnecessary havoc.

Calex and Merry said their goodbyes in their recovery room.

Calex and Axel shook hands. They agreed with Kally: when everyone was better and Calex came back from Britain, they would have to have a proper soccer match. Pax tackled Calex into a forced hug, which left Calex frantically checking all his pockets, until he withdrew his Arsenal beanie. No one knew when or how Pax had gotten that from Thalia or how he could reverse pickpocket with a gimp hand. Maybe Kally shouldn’t have been, but she felt relieved to know he could still enact that terror on the world.

After a few threats from Lapis, Merry confirmed she’d come wherever they were hiding to help out with Hiro within the next two weeks. She would also deliver news on how Sam Datta did on his makeup final. Lastly, Merry patted Pax’s head. “Don’t go kidnapping Kallybae, now,” she teased, “I need her here, at least for a bit.”

“No promises,” Pax said with a grin.

Then Merry and Calex were off, leaving Kally to wonder, casually, if she really was about to be kidnapped again. The others weren’t in any shape to do a proper kidnapping, but she wasn’t in any shape to resist.

Pax was brainstorming theme music for their slow, slow walk. There was a ramp down the Big House’s porch for Chiron’s wheelchair, but the rest was a trudge through grass. Every jostle made her scared of ruining her skin grafts. Will had strictly told her to lay off her powers for a bit, but she couldn’t help investigating how bad her burns were. They were gross.

“Then we’ll have a heavy guitar riff that rolls with the motion of Axel’s wheelchair wheels. The double-bass drums would be thumping along to Lapis’ limp. All heavy metal. Then, during our trailer, the camera will pan out and words will flash!”

Pax put his hands on his hips and said with his deepest bravado, “Hospital Heroes: coming to save your town... Eventually.” He waved a hand in front of him to simulate the length of time.

Eventually was correct. Lapis had to push Axel in a wheelchair while Alabaster pushed Kally’s. Axel had the weird birdcage with a blanket rested in his lap. The ride was bumpy and Kally felt stupid and silly having Alabaster silently walking behind her. Claymore got the glorious job of dragging Euna behind them in a bright red wagon with a squeaky wheel. Pax—with his maimed hand and sore shoulder—skipped happily alongside the others. Without any responsibilities.

Everyone was surprised when another wheelchair raced from the cabins to intercept theirs.

Pax leaned close enough to Kally for her to feel wisps of his hair and whispered, “Wheelchair duels. Let’s do this! We have an injured Axel, and can probably get a trash can lid and yard stick for jousting. We’re sure to win.”

She swatted him away with her good arm, trying to hush him, especially when she saw Miranda Gardener pushing Sherman Yang towards them.

“Hey! Wait! I have a bone to pick with you!” Sherman shouted. For a moment, Kally froze up, thinking he was talking to her. As they got closer and blocked off their path toward Farm Road, Kally realized the child of Ares’ dark eyes were narrowed above her at Alabaster.

Miranda looked calm and… maybe relieved when she brought Sherman to a stop.

Their noisy caravan paused.

“He might need to wire you a message, since Alabaster can’t really talk right now—aye! What was that one for?”

Kally glanced back to see Lapis releasing Pax’s ear. “Lazy and out-of-date word play, Ajaxapax. I expect better.”

Squeaks erupted behind Kally. She glanced back to see Alabaster holding up his whiteboard. They’d tied it around his neck for the sake of ease. The white matched his medical smock.

He wrote, What?

Although his expression was difficult to read, since he had to move his head as little as possible, Alabaster’s emerald eyes appeared annoyed. Maybe they always looked like that.[1]

Sherman inhaled and puffed out his chest. “Thank you for shooting me in the legs four times,” he said. His tone was neutral, eyes intense.

Lapis choked back a laugh. “Holy Hun-Batz, Ajaxapax, you said this sissy-gorged camp was only for hair braiding.”

Kally glanced down at Sherman’s legs. From what she could see under his lap blanket, both were fully wrapped in bandages.

Alabaster raised an eyebrow. He wrote on his white board. It was my pleasure.

“No really,” Sherman said.

Miranda smiled softly and set a hand on Sherman’s shoulder. “He’s not being sarcastic.”

Sherman reached up to take her hand. “I don’t know what would have happened to Miranda, Matthias, or Stoll otherwise or… or if I would have killed Clovis. I know we fought on opposite sides of the war but… you’re alright.”

Both of Alabaster’s eyebrows rose. He nodded his head stiffly and wrote. Alabaster looked away as he held up the white board. I’m glad you’re both okay.

With her good arm, Kally reached back to touch Alabaster’s side. Pax had shuffled closer to lay a hand on his arm.

Alabaster shrugged them both off.

Sherman cleared his throat. “Yea, well, the Stolls left a surprise for you in your Paxmobile. As a heads up, that Praetor chick just showed up there to supervise Matthias and Tyson.”

“And she was not happy about it,” Miranda added. “She came from a weird direction and looked pissed. I hope they haven’t changed their minds now that Percy is gone.”

Kally wasn’t sure what Percy had to do with this or what Matthias and Tyson were doing by the Paxmobile. If Matthias had his way, she was sure the son of Hephaestus would be painting the van pink.

At the mention of Reyna, Axel shuffled in his wheelchair. He sat up, and for a terrifying moment, she thought he was going to try to stand. Lapis, seeming to sense the same thing, poked him in the chest bandages. Axel collapsed back. Sweat glistened on his brow as he fought to control his breath.

At Percy’s name, Alabaster’s expression turned to a glare.

“This is heartwarming and all,” Dr. Claymore growled, “but, if we get one more interruption to this happy promenade, I’m going to leave this wagon stranded here.”

“He’s just sad we didn’t attach the balloon to his wagon,” Pax explained to Sherman, holding his hands out in a what are you going to do? gesture.

Dr. Claymore shot Alabaster a look and Kally had to wonder how much Alabaster had warned Dr. Claymore about Pax’s… Paxness. Alabaster’s shrug looked exhausted and defeated.

“Hardly,” Dr. Claymore finally said.

Miranda gave them a soft smile, gave Euna’s slumbering form a worried glance, and pushed Sherman back towards the cabins. He nodded stiffly in parting.

“If Doc gets tired of pulling Euna, we could make a sleigh. Tie Axel and Kally’s wheelchairs together with Euna’s wagon at the back. Then we could lasso Mrs. O’Leary and—”

“I swear Alabaster. I’ll shoot him before the day is over,” Dr. Claymore grumbled, dragging the red wagon ahead. Kally hadn’t noticed until now that their escape was even more obvious than she could have imagined. Everywhere Dr. Claymore pulled Euna, a trail of flowers sprouted in their wake.

Something about seeing Dr. Claymore with a flower trail made Kally choke on a giggle.

They made it to the Paxmobile without anymore interruptions. A few Romans and satyrs saw them while they went through the fields. One of them—Ric?—scowled and looked like he was going to approach them, but another—Erin? A newer recruit Kally remembered being nice—dragged him away. Most of the Romans were pretending not to notice the caravan.

Kally wondered how this felt for the boys. She knew how much Alabaster hated the Romans and Greeks and how terrified Pax had been of them. Despite Pax’s attempts at cheeriness, Alabaster and Axel’s faces had gone red with each Roman’s glance. Even Lapis’ mood darkened. They were leaving their former enemy encampment beaten and broken, as heroes running like villains, with their only reward being a chance to flee. Even that was treated like a favor.

This wasn’t a joyful escape towards freedom for Alabaster, Axel, and Pax. It was a walk of shame.

With everything they’d done and how much they’d risked, her insides burned at the thought.

Before she could say anything, they crested the hill above Farm Road.

Luke, the automaton golden donkey that pulled their van at mythological hyperspeed, shined in the sun. He munched at a bucket that must have contained motor oil. Someone had attached a This ass welcomes you banner around Luke’s neck.

There was a new contraption on top of the Paxmobile. It was made out of celestial bronze and looked almost like a bike rack, but the bars came down the sides of the van, more like a cage. Her throat constricted until she saw Tyson helping to move something huge off a makeshift fork-lift and onto the top of the rack.

Although it was tightly wrapped in protective coatings, Kally caught her breath, sharp enough that her ribs hurt. It was Joey’s statue. They’d reinforced the van structure to bear the weight of the stone.

A blond chubby boy stood beside Reyna, appearing to argue with her. When he caught sight of them, he bolted forward. Kally had a surreal sense of déjà vu as Pax broke into a run towards Matthias Sverre Hanson.

“Ajax Pax, here to relax!” the Nordic boy called as he collided with Pax in the gentlest collide Kally had seen. Matthias carefully lifted Pax around the waist to spin him.

Through Pax’s laughter, his voice quivered. “Dude, you gave us ramming power. Now Joey can fight, even in statue form.”

“We figured you guys would want her, and that Hera wouldn’t want her in her temple,” Matthias said. He set Pax back on the ground. The first time she saw these two hug, Matthias had been way bigger than Pax. Pax must have gone through a growths spurt in the last few months. Matthias had struggled to move him.

The son of Hephaestus tapped his fingers together. “I heard you were doing everything you could to get the Zhang man to change his mind about letting you go. Without Percy around to argue for you guys, I’d be careful of that.”

“Percy?” Kally echoed, though immediately regretted it. Without turning around, she could imagine Alabaster’s scowl and could feel some of the hatred radiating outward.

“Yea. Something about how the gods promised Percy that they would forgive all the children that fought on the Titan’s side, and how New Rome needed to respect that promise. He said it was Pegasus dropping that the gods back out on that promise by omitting you three. He was really pissed when they found out that they banished you, Witch Boy.” Matt pointed some finger guns at Alabaster.

Tyson hopped down from the top of the van. The vehicle made a terrifying crunching noise. “Yes! Percy made me promise his friends would get away safely! Mattie said he make sure you leave safely from here!” He patted Matthias’ arm.

The son of Hephaestus almost flopped onto the ground under the motion. “You got it!” The cyclops gave everyone a huge, happy wave before walking back towards camp.

“Say hi to your chicken for us!” Pax called after.

Kally desperately wanted to know how Alabaster was reacting. He’d shown nothing but contempt for Percy, someone he blamed for the murder of many of his siblings. Kally would have to ask later. Reyna was approaching their group. Miranda had been right: Reyna did look pissed.

Her dark eyes were icy as she examined Lapis. “You weren’t part of the deal.”

Lapis snorted and would have taken a step forward had Axel not shot a hand out to block his path. Without turning from the praetor, Lapis said, “Hey, Witch Boy, Doc, can either of you drive stick?”

“I’m a Mist form. I could dissipate at any second,” Claymore said, without truly answering. He set the red wagon’s handlebar down. Euna mumbled and tried to roll in the wagon, only accomplishing tilting it slightly.

Alabaster scribbled onto his board. He’s not wrong and I don’t have a license.

“Witch Boy is too good to drive himself places. He had sexy, Hispanic chauffeurs for that,” Pax said, brushing off his shoulder, then Axel’s.

Lapis put his hands on his hips, leaning heavily on his good leg. “Ajaxapax’s hand looks like a yeti’s chew toy and Tufted Ears is about to exhaust himself from breathing too heavily in your presence.”

“I’ll remember this next time we’re all hanging out with Sapphire,” Axel growled softly. Kally glanced over at him. Axel managed to keep his chin up, but his ears were flattened against his hairline. His face was tinted red from embarrassment. One set of claws dug into the wheelchair’s armrest while the other gripped the blanket overtop the birdcage.

Reyna examined the birdcage in Axel’s lap, not seeming to notice his humiliation in her anger. “That wasn’t part of the deal either.”

Kally’s skin felt cold as she realized who, not what, was probably gagged inside the birdcage.

Dr. Claymore cleared his throat. “As thrilled as I am at the thought of getting rid of that thing, do you really want him lounging around one of your camps? If he’s under Orpheus’ curse, you can’t kill him. You know the other children will underestimate how dangerous he is. We were doing a fine job keeping him under control before some of your people attacked one of his wards in front of him.”

Kally held her breath. That was the most direct she’d ever heard someone be with Reyna. Though, most people she’d seen interacting with Reyna were other teenagers, not angry middle-aged men. Kally had a feeling Dr. Claymore could have been talking to the Queen of England and had the same level of reverence.

Reyna frowned and went to open her mouth, but Matthias raised his hand and waved them. “Yea, whatever. Reyna and Axel can go argue over who gets custody of the Plague Bringer. Meanwhile, uh, Lapis, if you’re the driver, I’ll need to talk to you about some adjustments I had to make to the Paxmobile for optimal statue awesomeness. And Doctor Dude, you’re the adult, so I wanted to go over some stuff with you too. Pax, Alabaster, and Kally can check out the gift Chris, the Stoll brothers, Sherman, and Clovis left for Alabaster.”

Lapis snorted and jammed one hand into his pocket. With the other, he hooked his fingers around the birdcage to lift Jack out of Axel’s lap. “You could have just said you wanted to give Red some time to fondle Ajaxapax and Witch Boy before they say goodbye.”

The words resonated in Kally’s head. Say goodbye. Although she had Alabaster behind her and Pax and Axel beside her, emptiness clutched her chest. Calex would be flying home to Britain soon. Merry still didn’t know where she and her brother would end up once the courts were done sorting out their family. Even if Merry were emancipated, she would have to live in New York, at Camp Half-Blood and Kally still didn’t feel like she could live here and pretend to worship these gods. Would she have to go home to Virginia, alone, and go back to school and pretend nothing happened? With all the struggles everyone else was facing, she felt guilty feeling sorry about it, but… She had no idea where the Pax boys and Alabaster would end up. Sure, Kally needed to get home and tell Mr. Paine and her family that she was alive, but would she really be—

“We are not going to fondle,” Kally said, belated. Her face felt like it was on fire.

By the time the words came out of her mouth, Alabaster was already pushing her wheelchair down to the van.[2] Matthias, Lapis, Dr. Claymore, and Jack’s birdcage were strolling further down Farm Road. Well, Lapis was awkwardly hobbling. Kally remembered Pax once telling her that you needed two feet to operate a stick shift. She wondered whether or not the boys would end up stranded a mile away after Lapis’ bravado ran out.

“You two can talk in the back of the van,” Pax called to Reyna and Axel as he hopped alongside Alabaster and Kally. “You know. If your fight needs to get private—”

Alabaster tugged Pax forward, cutting his words off. Assuming the truce between the Romans and the Triple A Chimera really was temporary, she knew who they were hunting down with a gag and a forty hour seminar on polite conversation. And, if Frank had his way, a grizzly bear.

The ache in Kally’s chest grew the closer they got to the van. The beat-up white vehicle shouldn’t have made her feel fuzzy on the inside, considering how many times she’d almost died since stepping into it. Now, she knew the logo Pax had painted over belonged to his father’s pharmacy company, and she better understood the nearly burned-off, bright, kindergarten-like letters:

Pax Extraction Team

Ajax, Axel, Alabaster

Discounts on Protection Today!

They would need to paint over the scratch-out and re-add Alabaster’s name properly.

Alongside the van, there was a red satchel that bulged awkwardly, like Santa decided to give them explosives this year. Her heart sank even further to realize Christmas must have been a few days away.

Alabaster stopped her wheelchair alongside the van. All she could do was look at the red satchel to ignore Axel and Reyna’s voices as they disappeared inside the back doors, and ignore how warm her eyes were beginning to feel. If she wasn’t careful with the teary-eyed thing, she would end up looking like a puffer fish had rolled all over her face, and she really didn’t want that to be the last impression Alabaster and Pax had of her before… before…

How long would it be before she saw them again?

Kally swallowed and went to open her mouth.

Pax held a finger up to her lips. Really, he put a hand up to her face since he couldn’t curl the other three fingers back. He gave her that devilish smirk and winked his hazel eye.

With his functional hand, he pointed to the cracked passenger window of the van.

Alabaster rolled his eyes and leaned against the side. Although he tried to look nonchalant, Kally could tell he was either resting from being out of bed too soon or getting closer to the window to listen to the conversation inside.

Kally knew she shouldn’t. Part of her insides squirmed to think of Axel and Reyna finding them eavesdropping and what the two powerhouses would do, even with Axel in a wheelchair. Hades, Axel would probably offer for Reyna to throw him and the wheelchair as violent ammo.

But, Reyna’s voice came through the cracked window so clearly, and Kally really wanted a distraction.

“—pretending not to realize it, but it’s only a matter of time before some of my enemies in the senate start asking about why my father’s ghost was haunting me. They’ll use it to get me exiled or worse.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to resign due to a suspicion. Your soldiers love you.”

A sigh. The van shifted weight as, Kally guessed, Reyna sat down somewhere. “That might change once everyone hears the Triple A Chimera escaped from the custody of two praetors. One of us will have to take the fall, and I won’t let it be Frank.”

“I won’t—” Axel cut off abruptly. He swallowed audibly before his voice came out much gentler, almost fragile. “You know, if something happens, there’s this small group of friends of mine that are thinking about starting a camp. We’re kinda rag-tag right now, but there’s a position open for a weapons instructor.”

Alabaster rolled his eyes, not pleased with that prospect. His hands clenched into fists. Instead of continuing to listen, he knelt down beside the Santa bag and dared to blindly open something from the Stoll brothers. Kally or Pax should have warned him what the Stoll brothers were like, but the singing satyr butt balloon was probably as much warning as Alabaster needed.

Pax, meanwhile, pouted. “That sounds a disappointing amount like they’re not going to make out. I heard Axel got the title of Cat Breath while they were in Xibalba. Imagine Reyna’s reaction if she smelled the Fancy Feast on him.”

Maybe she should have been more indignant on Axel’s behalf, but she was too excited about something he had said. “You’re still going to make the third camp?” she asked, trying to keep her hope from making the question too high-pitched. She’d been scared to ask about it, especially around the Romans and Greeks.

“We’re still going to make the third camp,” Pax said. “You can’t get rid of us that easily. Like I told Axel, I’m like a parasite. Besides, you owe me too many drachma and Reese’s Sticks for me to just leave, Cyclops.”

Alabaster made a startled noise and Kally guessed it didn’t have to do with her debt.

As he stood up, he pulled the Cloven Terror helm from the red satchel. The Stygian iron enlaced in the ram’s head seemed to radiate darkness. Those eyes looked so hollow without the familiar green glow. Creepy as the helm was, Kally wanted to touch it, to see if its cold, taunting voice would greet her. For a startling moment, Kally wanted to wear it.

When Kally shook off the feeling, she found Alabaster’s emerald eyes examining her. With that look of understanding, Kally knew she had shared something with Alabaster that he’d never shared with anyone else.

Pax jumped gleefully and scurried to investigate everything else in the bag. Within a second, he recoiled from the next helm.

The Leonis Caput helm, the Silver Tongued Snake helm, Axel’s Nemean lion pelt, Alabaster’s spell elements, and the pieces of Pax’s utility belt were all inside as well. There was also a note that Alabaster snatched from Pax so Kally could read it aloud. “Please don’t use these to kill us. Love, the Stoll Brothers.”

Pax mimed wiping a tear from his eye. “Weapons of murder. Such a sweet peace gesture. I wonder if we can recruit the Stolls to join our future pranking squad. I mean, camp.”

With how much the Romans feared these, Kally was genuinely impressed that the children of Hermes had stolen them back. She considered all the people and items now expected to fit into the Paxmobile: Dr. Claymore, Euna, Joey on the roof, Lapis, a half-paralyzed Hiro, Alabaster, Pax, Axel, Backbiter, this satchel with the three darker alter egos of the boys.

“Do you guys have somewhere to go? While you’re—um—we’re planning out the next camp?” She had no idea how that was going to work. This was too big a group to live out of the Paxmobile like the boys had been doing when she met them, let alone take a few hour drive without Clamore shooting Pax. If the Romans really did decide to hunt after the Triple A Chimera, they couldn’t go back to Alabaster’s ruined house. The Romans knew its location and Kally assumed his HOA wouldn’t appreciate the pieces of dragon strew across the lawn.

“After we drop by the hospital for Hiro, I have an idea.” Pax gave her his devilish smirk. “I don’t really plan but—”

Pax stopped talking. His mouth opened for a second as his eyes went wide. Then, they narrowed and his smirk took on a different quality that Kally wasn’t sure she liked. “I do plan. I am the schemiest of anti-hero schemers that has ever schemed. I do have a plan. And, it starts with this.”

Kally flinched when Pax leaned directly to her eye level, his face close enough to smell his chocolaty scent.

Kally glanced at Alabaster, panicked. This was Pax, right? Pax who never planned and was proud of it? If Pax could turn into other people to cause mischief, could Atë or Eris? Kally had no weapons on her. She didn’t know if she had the strength to conjure another sun javelin and would definitely melt off her skin graft if she tried.

Alabaster’s eyes also went wide. One of his hands had hesitantly strayed into the red satchel.

“Kalypso Kassand, I, Ajax Pax, hereby absolve you of any oath you have to me on the River Styx. You no longer need to keep my secrets under threat of an eternally damned soul, just under the threat of this sad panda face.” He reached to touch her chin. Without the ligaments to control his fingers, his caress was rougher than usual.

Kally had seen Pax’s puppy pout at least a hundred times over the last few months. This time, it felt different. The cute, happy innocence didn’t extend to his eyes.

Kally couldn’t focus on that with what he said. Her mouth fell open. The tears she’d been trying to fight back threatened to surface. All this time, she couldn’t freely talk to Merry or anyone about everything. She didn’t always know what Pax considered a secret and had to wait for his permission to tell people things, things that could have probably saved lives. The freedom, something she just accepted she’d lost forever, made her heart thud.

“Thank you,” she said. Kally choked back the tears. Her face would be lobster colored in no time. If she let herself cry, the ache in her ribs said it would hurt a lot. “However, since you tricked me into it in the first place, I want you to call off our drachma/Reese’s debt off.”

Pax’s pout morphed into a smile. “You’re wising up, Cyclops. How about we cut it in half?”

“Down by a quarter,” Kally said.

“Deal. Alabaster, what’s a quarter of a lot?” Pax asked.

Alabaster scribbled on his board. For a moment, Kally wondered if he actually remembered her debt and was doing the math. Then Alabaster flipped his board, revealing that he’d taken the time to draw a middle finger instead of just flicking Pax off with his hand.

“Aw, Alabaster, the time you took to draw that shows that you care,” Pax said.

Kally could hear the back door of the van open, letting Reyna hop out and adjust her braid in a way that made Pax do a giddy My brother got to make out and is probably unconscious because of it dance. By now, Lapis, Claymore, and Matthias were walking back towards them with the birdcage. The ache in Kally’s chest increased; their time was almost out.

Kally felt stupid asking when she would see them again. Plus, she didn’t need to leave that to their hands. As Merry and Atë had pointed out, Kally wasn’t a doormat anymore.

“You guys are Catholic, right?” she blurted.

Alabaster went to write on his whiteboard.

Pax swiped his marker.

Alabaster scowled.

“As Catholic as a Mayan-Greek demigod can be,” Pax said. Although Pax had answered for all of them, Kally had a guess as to how the god-hating child of Hecate might feel. That would need to be a discussion for a different day.

“Come over to my parents’ house for Christmas,” Kally said. Her face felt like it would melt off if it got any hotter, but she didn’t care. She was taking a stand here.

Pax’s expression softened. The darkness melted from his eyes so he could relax into a much more genuine Pax puppy face. “So we can scare your racist brother again? Kally, that’s the best holiday gift you could have given me.”

The last time she was home, Axel had terrified John, her brother, and his drunk friends with a trick of the Mist. Had that really been the last time anyone from her family had seen her? She was terrified for the inevitable “I told you so”s about getting into a white van with two random guys and disappearing for a few months.

Even Alabaster seemed to calm at her proposition. Either that or the exhaustion was getting to him. She wouldn’t know until he finished erasing and rewriting whatever he was doing on his board.

“There’s a really tough conversation I need to have with my mom about my real dad,” Kally said, trying to keep her voice even. “And it would be nice to have back up in case she gets too mad to talk to me during the holidays.

After rewriting one more thing, Alabaster finally held up his board.

We’ll be there.[3]

Kally’s heart skipped a few beats.

Lapis, Matthias, and Claymore walked back over with the birdcage. Matthias and Reyna stood on either side of Kally’s wheelchair as the boys put the red satchel into the back of the van. Fortunately, Euna woke up enough to groggily stumble out of the red wagon.

Euna paused, glancing at her sister’s statue attached to the top of the van. She reached up and touched Joey’s stone foot. Also fortunate, she didn’t seem to notice Lapis, who carefully avoided that, “damn, psychotic grass hippie.”

Kally wanted to give Euna a hug or to ask her what happened when she disappeared down to Tartarus. She wanted to tell Euna that Calex had demanded she give him a phone ring as soon as she was feeling up to talking, and that Thalia said she’d hunt Euna down to slap her for the “flower cocooning.” Whatever that was.

But, Euna’s dark eyes were so glassy, Kally wasn’t sure if Euna even knew she was awake. The eerie glow to Euna’s skin, made her look surreal and Kally was suddenly nervous to approach her friend. She wondered if Euna was aware enough to tell her father about what had happened to Joey.

Not that the Pax boys, Alabaster, and Claymore wouldn’t keep her safe, but they weren’t the most comforting.

Before Euna could disappear into the van, Kally said, as loud as she could with the ache in her chest, “Euna! Let’s get milkshakes sometime soon!”

Despite everything they’d been through, Kally knew uncomfortably little about Euna except that she liked food. Kally hoped that would be enough.

Euna’s distant gaze found hers. She gave Kally a thumbs up. “I like milkshakes.” Then she slipped into the van with Backbiter in sword form.

Lapis hopped into the driver’s seat and put Jack’s birdcage in the passenger seat. Axel made Matthias roll Kally closer so he could give her the gentlest hug from where he was propped inside. The glance he shared with Reyna made Kally wonder exactly how their conversation had ended.

Alabaster reverted Claymore to a Mist card to conserve on car space, and to prevent him from shooting Pax. Alabaster squeezed Kally’s hand.

Then, Alabaster and Pax were hopping into the van.

Pax paused in the doorway with the doors almost shut. Baller, his crazy weasel, scampered up his clothing to rest on Pax’s shoulder. He gave her a devilish smile and winked his yellow eye. “Just remember kids,” he said to Reyna, Matthias, and Kally. His gaze lingered on Kally. Reyna sighed in annoyance and Kally, similarly, had to wonder if Pax had rehearsed whatever he was able to say.

He sucked in a deep breath. “The moral of the story is: if you’re cute enough or pathetic enough, you can get away with anything. The system is broken and villains get to walk free.”

With those uplifting words, Pax shut the doors.

Reyna walked behind Kally. Kally’s throat constricted, wondering if it would be worse to have Reyna—someone who still terrified her—or Matthias—someone known for pranking—push her back to the Big House.

Reyna made the decision when she rested her hands on Kally’s wheelchair. Kally wanted to watch the van drive away, if nothing else than to make sure Joey’s statue wouldn’t flip off. The older girl didn’t seem interested in such sentimentality.

“Wait,” Matthias said when Reyna went to wheel her.

They paused and looked at the Paxmobile.

The Paxmobile made a few revving noises.

Then made a pathetic puffing noise.

Luke the donkey snorted once, seeming unimpressed with the van’s epic failure.

Another rev.

“Hansen?” Reyna asked.

Matthias grinned. “Oh, I disconnected the battery to fuck with them. I’ll give it three more tries before Axel—”

“HANSEN!” Axel roared from the inside. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY VAN!?”

“And with that, I’ve made Axel angry enough that he’ll allow Pax to come back and prank me.” He withdrew a wrench from his pocket and walked towards the Paxmobile. Matthias cheered, “Now we’ll have to see them again.”

Kally grinned. Even without Matthias’ disconnect and the promise of a chaotic, crowded Christmas, she was sure they would.

***

Okay! So I’m going to refrain from a long-winded, soppy author’s note until the second epilogue is out. For now: thank you guys for reading! T.T You’ve all been so nice and supportive, especially those of you leaving such encouraging comments and asks! I really hope you enjoyed!!! Stay tuned next week for Epilogue Part I.

I can’t believe this whole thing will be out and done at the beginning of August O.o T.T

***

Bonus:

Leo was definitely digging Brooklyn House’s set up, with the giant albino alligator, Sadie’s annoyed boyfriend, and Sadie’s panicking older brother. It was nice knowing Calypso was at camp, helping Chiron in the healing center and that he’d never need to see that creep, Pax, again. He just wanted time to figure stuff out, between Calypso’ trickery and how Pax had messed with his head. However, as he helped craft a massive carrier for all the healing vials Jazz, Brooklyn House version of a child of Apollo, had made for them, he couldn’t fight off the nagging feeling that he’d forgotten something else.

On the plasma TV hanging above a fireplace that was large enough to park a car inside, he caught the words of a local news anchor.

“—unsure if this is a runaway Christmas float, or a well crafted-prank drone—”

Leo almost dropped his contraption. “Uh, Lady Sadie?”

“Yes Commander Valdez?”

“Uh, we may have left a homicidal, flying metal dragon loose in New York City.”

“You left a what?!” Carter almost screamed from another room.

“Nothing brother dear!” Sadie called sweetly.

***

Footnotes:

[1] Mel betanotes, “Maybe it’s Maybelline.”

[2] So, in the first rendition of this, I put, “Alabaster was already pushing her down to the van.” And I realized that wording might be a bit forward/unbalanced considering how much of an audience they have and how he can’t move his mouth.

[3] No, the epilogue is not a Christmas special. XD that was Mel’s first guess.

#Traitors of Olympus #LAST OFFICIAL CHAPTER! JUST THE EPILOGUES! AHHHHHH!!!!!#PJO #HOO #TOO #fanfiction #basically everyone that's important XD #The advent of sassy Kally #I need to hold it together for the epilogues XD

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sushoii · 7 years

Text

Finally

This is the Percy Jackson story thingy I mentioned earlier, I edited it but probably not that well, sorry for the bad writing skills.

1736 words

Long into the future, you are lost on a road unused for many years, after driving for awhile you find an old farmhouse on a hill next to a large evergreen, surrounded by fields of strawberries and grapes. You knock on the door, after no answer you open the door.

Inside that farmhouse you find a man in a wheelchair who’s looking a bit old to be living alone, you ask him where you are. He says to you that you are in a magical place only to be reached by those who believe, that he can even show you something magical. He then leads you to another room, a very large room, inside the room there are multiple showcases. Standing there in awe at the sheer amount of it all, you turn around to ask the man why these are here, he tell’s you that they are his prized possessions from his favorite kids at the camp from long ago. He then exits the room to leave you be. You go to look at the showcases unknowing of where to start. You see at the end of the room the largest showcase of them all, you look inside and see a tattered old yankee cap, a rusty old pen, a satyr flute, a basebal bat, and a pair of glasses and a coin. There is a piece of firewood along with an old canadian flag, a couple gems and rare minerals, a couple of native american children books along with a dagger, and a metal dragon head. Underneath each set of item’s there is a necklace with countless beads and a picture of a tattoo. You look around the room noticing random things in the showcases, things like a silver tiara, an old Mcdonald’s happy meal box, a pair of shoes with wings, broken spear, a pair of sunglasses with one lens, and too. On the other side of the room there is a wall, on the wall there are words, almost illegible from the age. You look closer and make out the words, they are names, “Silena Beauregard, Charlie Beckendorf, Zoё Nightshade, Ethan Nakamura.” there are only few you can make out. Everything in this room confuses you, the yankee’s is a team that stopped playing many years ago, they stopped serving Mcdonald’s happy meals like those over fifty years ago, canada changed its flag a long time ago and got rid of all of the old ones.Looking around the room you see a small bookshelf in the corner, every shelf full of pictures, the pictures ranging, there are pictures of kids, pictures of couples kissing, pictures of what looks like camp counselors with young campers pictures of families, of friends hanging out at random places. On the top shelf you notice two large pictures, in those pictures are a group of about ten plus kids in front of two structures, one of the structures says SPQR, the other says Camp Half Blood. You then look down the bookshelf, noticing a set of books, you take out the first one, reading the title “Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief” becoming curious you start reading. After a couple hours the man comes back in bring in food and blankets, suspecting you’ll be here a while for the books. In the end of the first book you are highly intrigued. You ask the man if you can stay to read all the books, he says you may, he then leads you to an extra guest room for you. You stay for around two weeks. After finally finishing the last book, you walk back into the large showcase room. The elder man is sitting in his wheelchair in front of the large showcase. As you put the books away he mutters something. “I truly miss them, they were the best” You look at him confused, it then clicks. “They were all real, you’re Chiron, aren’t you” The man looks at you, his eyes wet, “Yes. Those books were written by themselves, the orginial copies, they all had ones that they kept, they were even in every cabin here” Soaking it all in, you suddenly realize how long it must’ve been since these books were written, how long has it been since they passed you ask. “Around sixty years,” he answered. “Everything in this showcase is theirs, wanting to leave me something so i’d never forget them.” There’s a wavering to his voice, as if he’s going to cry. “The gods have gone back to Europe after following the majority of the world. I’ve been left here tending to the strawberries.” Thinking back to the beginning of the series, “In the beginning you told Percy that you were to live until you were no longer needed to teach the campers?” “Yes I did say that, as you can see I am dying, I can no longer stand on my hooves so I resorted back into the wheelchair, as soon as I help the last person that I need to, I will pass.” You suddenly become very sad that it will most likely be very soon. After having read all of the books you gained a sudden attachment to all the characters, feeling as if you knew them in person, that you had gone on the adventures with them. “Who do you think the last person you help will be?” You ask. He answers very solemnly, “I do believe that the last person will be you, I can feel, in a couple months maybe weeks I will be gone. You have been the first person to come by here in over thirty years.” Weeks pass, Chiron slowly becoming weaker, you stayed to watch over him and be there for him, all of a sudden one day he says “I want to give this house to you, I could tell while you were reading that you truly began to love them, and after knowing you for long, I trust this to you.” In the end you had began crying“Okay” you answer. For the next couple months you watch as Chiron becomes even weaker than he had been that day. Slowly making memories of your time with him, and of all the stories he’d tell you. The day he passes everything around is completely silent, as if the world itself was mourning the loss. Years pass and you have published every one of the books for others to enjoy. Opening the farmhouse as a small museum for the fans of the books, they gained a large amount of fans, that also learned to fall in love with the stories and the people in them.. Although none of them know that it was all real. That all of these things were really theirs, that the man who lived in this farmhouse was indeed Chiron. Many years later, when you grow old, you close the farmhouse up, giving all of the things in it to your grandchildren whom you had told all the stories that Chiron had told you and the memories of Chiron from those short months, you trust them that they will forever believe that is was all real. But knowing that in their futures years they’ll stop believing in things, you remain worried. The day you pass is a peaceful one. After death you wake up, in what looks of what Chiron had described as Hades’ throne room. “Well finally there you are.” you hear a familiar voice. Looking up you see a man who looks like Chiron, except many decades younger, and not in a wheelchair. You look down at yourself realizing you’re as young as you were when you first met him “I have some people you would like to meet, I’ve been telling them stories of you. I’ve had Hades keep an eye on you too, making sure everything went right. I love what you did for the farmhouse and everything. You spread joy to everyone that read the books” You begin crying, tears of joy, you never thought you’d see Chiron again, in those few months you began to love him as if he was your own grandfather. “Would you like to meet them?” Chiron says holding out a hand for you to help you up. Confused, you look behind him, seeing some people that look strangely familiar but you know you’ve never seen in person. After a couple moments of silence you realize where you’d seen them before. They look as young as they did in the two large pictures on the bookshelf. “I would love to meet them” Chiron guides you over to them. By the end of the day you had learned that because of the things they did in life, Zeus and Poseidon persuaded Hades to build them a castle in the underworld where they get to live there for all of eternity with all of their memories intact after having heard about you from Chiron they got Hades to agree that you got to live down here too. After a couple days you realize Thalia was immortal being in the Hunter’s of Artemis. Questioning this you ask them, they answer that because Thalia is immortal another rule they got was that Thalia gets to visit them whenever she has time. The next day Thalia herself visits. When they first introduced you to her, you were confused because you have met this person before in life she was your best friend that used to visit.. Thalia explains that she had been watching you ever since Chiron passed, she had been there when you came to the farmhouse, that she was just in the other room making Chiron some lunch. Chiron had told her that you were there and she had left. After he had passed she had began hanging around the farmhouse, when you opened it, she had started to visit you, slowly becoming close friends over the years. One year she had disappeared, because she knew you would notice she did not age. Knowing she would meet you again she stayed away, finally being able to today. Lying in bed that night you realize that you got to ‘live’ your dream of meeting them. That finally after reading the books, you get to go on adventures with them for real, throughout the underworld, that they’re your friends. You think finally that, in the end, everything is perfect.

#Percy Jackson #heroes of olympus #sorry #it's so badly written #it's also kinda sad in the middle

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